NOTE: Alright, sorry if that last chapter was a bit dull this one is...probably no better. I just need to wrap up the Fitz case since I did start it, and now of course I have to fix some other things. However, hopefully I'm back on track after this and I can actually introduce a proper villain soon. :)

Chapter Twenty

"Peter, I will admit that I don't know DC very well yet, but I'm still fairly you're going the wrong way."

"I know where I'm going."

"Are you sure?" Neal asked skeptically as he looked at his phone. "Because according to my GPS the Federal Building is back that way."

"I know where I'm going." Peter repeated.

"Fine. Don't ask for my help when we end up in the Potomac."

When Peter didn't comment further Neal gave up on trying to get him to explain what was going on, he'd been oddly quiet since the arrest and he was continuing that streak now. Sitting the passenger side of Peter's car Neal just stared out the window at the historic city. They did eventually end up at the Potomac river, but they manged to safely cross over it rather than Neal's prediction that they'd drive into it. Pulling into the parking lot of the East Potomac Park Peter pulled his cell phone out. Opening the glove box Peter placed his phone inside and looked to Neal, silently suggesting that he do the same.

Deciding against arguing Neal added his own cell phone to the glove box. Closing the box Peter wordlessly got out of the car and started to walk over towards the path that lead to Hains Point. Getting out of the car as well Neal caught up with Peter and walked with him to the Potomac river. Peter rested his forearms against the railing and stared out over the river at the Capitol City. Neal leaned against the rail as well but he was looking at Peter instead. He had come to the conclusion that Peter had left their cell phones behind so that Frost couldn't as easily listen in on them. Peter didn't say anything at first, clearly debating the pros and cons of whatever it was he had to say.

"Does the name Carl Matheson mean anything to you?" Peter broke the silence.

"No." Neal shook his head. "Should it?"

"He tried to kill you."

"What?"

Peter turned his attention away from the city and over to Neal. Seeing his concern Neal stayed quiet while Peter recalled his evening with Frost, starting with the knife Aurbrey had found and finishing with his agreement with Frost to keep Matheson a secret. Neal rubbed at the slash in his arm as he listened to the latest story as to how it had gotten there. Peter had never believed in the fence story and hearing about the attack Neal found that he wasn't all that surprised either.

"I agreed with Frost not to tell you simply because I didn't know what he'd do if I didn't." Peter finished the story. "I can't make my mind up about him."

"Do you think it was an honest case of wrong place wrong time or do you think he used me as bait?"

"…I don't think you were bait." Peter admitted after a moment's thought. "Frost has the resources to set a proper trap if that's what he wanted to do. If Matheson had been his main target he would have descended on him with surgical precision, you would have never even known he was there let alone have gotten close enough to get hurt."

"That's an excellent point. In that case I'm still inclined to believe that he and Bryant mean well."

"Mean well?" Peter repeated. "They almost got you killed."

"But they still got me home alive."

"They lied to us both."

"How well would the truth have worked out for Frost that night he brought me to your place?" Neal continued to play Devil's Advocate.

"You're suggesting this is my fault?"

"I'm suggesting that Frost looked at all his options and took the one that he felt best served his goal of make a us a team."

"He chose poorly." Peter said darkly.

"Only because Aubrey found the knife." Neal smiled.

"You and Frost are more alike than I like to admit." Peter sigh. "You both truly believe that something isn't wrong as long as you don't get caught."

"You know it's a good thing you didn't take that bet about Aubrey," Neal mused "I'd owe you a thousand dollars."

"This is serious, Neal."

"I know, but I also think it's a big step that Frost would trust you with the truth as well as trust you not to tell me…kind of a misplaced faith obviously, but still progress."

"He was extraordinarily drunk."

"Another good sign…sort of."

"How is that in anyway a good sign?"

"For one because it shows that he does feel remorse, although I think we need to work on helping him cope with it better, and second he let you see him vulnerable. I doubt that's an honor he's bestowed on very many."

"I would have been happier with the honor of just getting the truth the first time around, rather than honor of making sure he didn't spend the night pass out on his bathroom floor."

"Did you spend the whole night with Frost?" Neal asked surprised.

"I did." Peter admitted.

"You're such a softie." Neal teased.

"I couldn't just leave him like that."

"Of course you could have, but the fact that you didn't tells me that there is hope for the four of us yet."

"Assuming he doesn't send us both to Guantanamo Bay for me telling you all this."

"I don't think that's likely." Neal chuckled.

"We'll see."

Neal smiled and turned around to lean his back against the railing. He stretched out his injured arm and took notice of the fact that his hand wasn't cramping up. It was a relief to learn that he'd earned the injury honestly rather than just getting caught on a fence like a wayward horse. With the chaotic dreams revealed as memories he felt more control of the symptoms. Peter looked at Neal and noticed him opening and closing his hand.

"You're really okay with all of this?" Peter asked seriously.

"I am. I'm glad Frost told you, and I'm glad you told me."

"I am too."

"Were you considering not?"

"No. I just wasn't sure that I'd be happy that I did or if I was going to have to help you run from the CIA if you had decided you were done with Frost."

"You'd do that for me?" Neal beamed.

"I would…but I wouldn't have been happy."

"I bet not." Neal chuckled.

Peter managed to smile. After a few minutes of silence Peter decided against diving any deeper into what happened with Frost. Neal followed along as Peter headed back towards the car. Along the way back to the Federal Building Peter talked mostly about the kind of paperwork he was expecting to see on his desk in the morning concerning the Fitz case.

Neal took it as a good sign that Peter was willing to talk about FBI work. Getting back to the office Neal went with Peter into his office to avoid the egregious amount of mundane filing that had been discussed along the way. Peter had barely sat down when the intercom buzzed to inform him that there were two gentlemen from the National Art Gallery to see him about security at an upcoming event. Beyond the doubt in the secretary's voice about the men being who they said they were Peter knew that Elizabeth would have told him if the Gallery were she worked had any intention of contacting him.

"It's Frost and Bryant isn't it?" Neal chuckled.

"Twenty-four hours without them, that's all I ask." Peter sighed.

Peter told the secretary to let them in since there was no sense in trying to keep Frost out. Dressed in an untucked button down shirt and jeans Frost entered the room with his usual exuberance, he had a crutch under one arm to help with his aggravated ankle but he seemed to be in good spirits. Bryant didn't look like he'd gotten much sleep and he was keeping closer to Frost's side than usual.

"National Gallery?" Peter asked disapprovingly. "You know this is the FBI, you can just tell people here you're with the CIA."

"Unlike you FBI guys who are constantly flashing your badges we Spooks like to keep a little more low profile."

Peter looked over the six foot tall, crutch welding, one eyed man with obvious military background standing in his office in casual dress pretending to be an Art Gallery curator.

"Mission accomplished." Peter said drily.

"Okay, so I'm not at the top of my 'spy craft' today." Frost admitted.

"What do you want?"

"We came down here for a few reasons, partly because you two don't have high enough clearance to visit our office, which I'm working on. But mostly because we wanted to congratulate Neal on his first official collar. Congratulations, Neal."

"Thanks."

Neal suddenly found himself under the powerful scrutiny of Frost's good eye. Neal didn't blink or back down but he did find Frost's sudden attention unnerving. Neal hadn't meant his response to be quite as cold as it had sounded, but he found that now that he was looking at Frost he was more upset about him lying to him than he'd previously thought.

"Peter told you." Frost stated knowingly.

"He did." Neal confirmed.

"Everything?"

"Everything."

"Damn." Frost swore in frustration.

Neal held his breath not sure what was going to happen next. He hadn't expected Frost so sound so upset. Frost shifted his weight onto his crutch so he could fish into his back pocket. Neal furrowed his brow as Frost pulled out a wad of folded bills and handed them to Bryant. Taking the money Bryant flipped through it as he counted to himself.

"That's just rude." Frost complained to Bryant.

"Last time you were ten short."

"It's all there." Frost assured looking hurt.

"What is going on here?" Peter demanded.

"Remember that hundred I lost to Bryant when Aubrey found the knife? Well I bet him double or nothing that you'd keep last night to yourself."

"You really thought I'd keep the truth from my partner?"

"I really thought you'd never admit to spending the night babysitting me." Frost clarified.

"Thank you for that by the way." Bryant said honestly.

"Another part of the reason we are here was I was going to tell Neal the truth myself. Once the hangover passed I realized you were right, Neal does need to know what he's dealing with when he's with us, as do you. But now that that's all settled…" Frost reached into his back pocket again and brought out two credit card sized pieces of dark blue plastic with an iridescent hologram of an eagle stamped on them "here, takes these. *Don't* lose them."

"What is this?" Neal asked as he tilted the card to admire the high detail hologram.

"They are your passes onto JBAB."

"JBAB?"

"Joint Base Anacostia-Bolling, it's Navy/Airforce base. The four of us are going on a trip and Bryant and I do not fly commercial."

"Whoa, wait, a trip?" Peter asked nervously. "Where are we going?"

"Boston, Massachusetts or as I like to call it 'the scene of the crime'."

"Scene of crime? You mean…"

"The Isabella Stewart Gardner heist."