"I think I need to go to Pittsburgh."

Hughes picked up the file Peter had handed him, opening the cover. "We do have people there," he said.

"I know," Peter agreed. "But there are some things we just can't get from photos and e-mails."

"So give me the short version."

"This Wallace guy has some interesting financial transactions recently. He also has some ties to people in the security system industry."

"Both places."

"Both cities. The police file from Pittsburgh doesn't have all of the company and employee details, but there's reason to believe Wallace might be connected."

"Any lead on the actual pieces?"

"Not yet. But we have a… resource looking for some street help there." And for all of the times Mozzie had come through with information, despite his peculiarities and paranoia, Peter wasn't betting against him this time.

"The Pittsburgh office might have some contacts."

"Definitely, and I'd like to use them. But this didn't become a Bureau case until the second theft, when it crossed state lines. No one in Pittsburgh is up to speed."

"All right," Hughes agreed. "The SAC there owes me a favor or two. I'll call ahead and get the process started for you. Just try not to smash their turf too badly."

"I'll tread lightly," Peter promised. "But there is one more thing."

"Which is?"

"I want to take Caffrey with me."

Hughes leaned back in his chair and sighed. "That opens a whole new can of worms. The field office there might not be happy having a convicted felon brought into their house."

"I know, but I think it's important. Reese, Neal is the one who got us this lead through Dr. Hunt. And if we need to set up a meet to try and get the stolen artifacts, he's the one most knowledgeable about them. If Wallace is there, and involved, we have some leverage to draw him out. But if Neal is here, we at best lose time, and at worst might lose the chance to nail this guy."

"All right, I'll try to smooth the way. Call the marshals service and see what it takes to get Caffrey out of state."

"Already did. The paperwork is on the way over."

The older man raised an eyebrow in amusement. "Taking a bit for granted, aren't you?"

"Only that you'd make the right decision for this case."

Hughes laughed. "Flattery will win you some points this time. Just keep me informed. And don't lose Caffrey somewhere along the way. That kind of headache I really do not need."

"Me neither," Peter replied. "I'll keep track of him." He got to his feet and left the office, heading for the floor.

In the bullpen, Jones and Diana were gathered near Neal's desk, watching as he sketched something.

"Art class time, children?" Peter asked as he walked up.

"Neal's rendition of what these fragments would look like as a whole piece," Diana explained.

Peter looked in, studying the drawing. "Impressive," he said, actually meaning it. The bits and pieces came together into a stately pottery piece. Just like the puzzle Dr. Hunt had talked about.

"Just think, if they could find some whole pieces like this," Neal mused.

"Then there would probably be even more people trying to steal them," Peter said. "Anyway, wrap up what you're doing. I'm driving you home."

"Home?" Neal asked, puzzled.

"Yeah, you need to pack a bag. You and I are going to Pittsburgh." Neal actually looked surprised, and Peter worked hard to suppress a grin. He just loved it when he could actually shock Neal with something.

"I actually get to go out of state?"

"The marshals are sending over the paperwork, and Hughes approved it," Peter replied. "Just don't make me sorry about this."

"No, you won't be sorry!"

Peter turned to the other two agents. "You know what to follow up on here?"

"I have the other financial information coming in," Jones said.

"And I'm working on the warrant for Wallace's New York office," Diana added.

"All right, then let's do this," Peter said. "I feel like we're finally getting close."

"Will you please stop that!"

Neal stopped drumming his fingers on the arm of the seat and looked up. "Sorry."

They were sitting in the lounge area at the gate at LaGuardia, waiting for the flight to Pittsburgh to be called. As usual, the flight was delayed. And Neal had been alternately pacing, tapping his foot, drumming his fingers…

"Want to tell me what the problem is?"

"Maybe I'm just excited about getting out of New York."

"No, when you're excited, you talk my ear off. I know it's been a while, but you're acting like you've never been on a plane before."

Neal turned to look out the window, his fingers starting to move – until he caught himself at the last minute and pulled his hand back.

"Look, I thought you'd want to go," Peter said. "If you don't…"

"It's not that," Neal said quietly, staring at his feet. "It's just…" He hesitated, drawing in a shaky breath. "You might remember what happened the last time I was supposed to get on a plane," he finished, his voice barely a whisper.

Oh, shit. Peter reached a comforting hand over to the younger man's shoulder. "Neal, I didn't even think about that."

"When you said Pittsburgh, I just thought you meant driving at first."

"I guess I thought about nearly four hundred miles in a car with you…"

"And figured I'd talk your ear off the whole way?"

Peter shrugged, a small smile crossing his face. "Something like that."

Neal managed to return the smile. "I'll be all right, Peter. Really. Once I actually get on the plane and we take off. I mean, I used to do this all the time."

"Did it a lot when I was trying to find you."

"Apparently not often enough."

"But look what you would have missed if I hadn't caught you."

"Sure, four years in a cell, orange jumpsuits – orange is so not my color, Peter. Bad food, instant coffee."

"I was thinking more about the last couple of years," Peter said, a hint of humor in his voice.

"I was getting there. I've been shot at, tasered, kidnapped, beaten up…"

"So, nothing but regrets?"

Neal grinned, his hands finally relaxing. "I guess there have been a few good things."

"I let you eat my breakfast cereal."

"And Satchmo likes me."

"He's a dog. He likes anyone who scratches his ears."

"So if I scratch your ears…"

"Don't even think about it."

Neal laughed and leaned back in the chair. "Thanks. I needed that."

"Any time. You sure you'll be all right with this?"

"Well, if I'm not, I'll try to not puke on you."

"That does not fill me with confidence, Caffrey." Neal just grinned, so Peter continued. "Anyway, this will be an adventure."

"It's been great so far. Loved getting groped by the TSA guy."

"That was a security pat down."

"Right. He had his hands all over me, Peter."

"Maybe you looked suspicious."

"You had all the paperwork from the marshals," Neal argued. "And I was with you!"

"Maybe I thought you looked suspicious."

Neal rolled his eyes and started in on a story about a flight in Europe, and the flight attendant who had been so… attentive. Peter was only half listening, his own thoughts intruding. He really hadn't thought about what the idea of flying might mean to Neal right now. It was something that probably should have occurred to him. El would have thought of it, if he'd had time to talk to her about it. At least his partner seemed a little more relaxed now, and if they could just get in the air…

"What? Wait – the Mile High club?"

Much to Peter's relief, the flight to Pittsburgh went off without a major hitch. Well, as long as you ignored the fact that the flight departed two hours late, which seemed to be pretty par for the course for New York airports. They probably could have driven…

As predicted, Neal had relaxed once they were actually off the ground. The fact that a couple of flight attendants had stopped by frequently to bask in the flirting probably didn't hurt. With the aisle seat, Neal had even gallantly helped load luggage into the overhead bins for a family with several small children, and an elderly couple who said they were traveling to meet their first great-grandchild.

Once they landed, the car rental process had been reasonably painless. Though really, how many times should he have to say he was declining the insurance…

The rental navigation system was different than what he was used to, so he even let Neal play around with it. "Try to find the Wexler Museum," Peter said, pointing at the unit.

"Not the hotel?"

"The Wexler is having an open house tonight. We might be able to make it for a little bit, do a little unofficial looking around before it becomes official tomorrow."

"What's the open house for?"

"A visiting exhibit of relics from the Acropolis."

"Ah, Greece. You're hoping maybe our Egyptian fan likes other Mediterranean history as well?"

"Well, that would make it easier," Peter admitted. "But probably hoping for too much. No, I was just thinking it would be nice to see the place without officially announcing the visit."

"Undercover, nice. They won't be on guard with their answers."

"They will be on guard around the artifacts, however," Peter warned.

"Well, if any go missing, it won't be me!" Neal objected. He smiled, holding up the GPS unit. "Got it," he said. "Here we go."

The open house was festive, but fairly standard for such an event. Peter even wondered if all of these museums managed to use the same caterer – same basic hors d'oeuvres, same uniform for the servers, same cheap champagne…

Obviously, he'd been to too many of these types of events.

Neal, of course, was in his element – even if he had complained about going right to the museum without a chance to change. It was actually quite fascinating to watch, the way the younger man could mingle, become part of any conversation, pick up information.

Within half an hour he'd found Peter and pointed out several weak points in the security for the Acropolis displays. Peter made a note to talk to the curators in the morning. You'd think they would have learned after the recent thefts…

"Really, Peter, one room? Is that the FBI travel budget, or do you really think I'd run if I was next door?"

"I think I have to justify the travel expenses," Peter replied, tossing his bag down. "Hey, at least there are two beds. You could have been sleeping on the floor."

"That's got to be against the rules," Neal grumbled. He dropped his bag onto the bed near the window.

"What's the matter? Were you expecting one of your flight attendant friends to show up?"

"No, I was not expecting company. Just a little privacy."

"Cowboy up, Caffrey," Peter said, laughing.

"I really hate that phrase."

"I know."

Neal scowled at him. "Sometimes you have a real evil streak, Peter."

"Shocked?"

The scowl turned into a laugh. "Nope." Neal dug into his bag, laying out pajamas and pulling out his toothbrush. "So what's the plan for tomorrow?"

"We need to check in with the local Bureau office – courtesy call, since we're in their jurisdiction. Hughes asked them to get copies of the police reports, so hopefully that's done. Then back to the museum."

"I didn't see Wallace there tonight."

"No, I didn't either. Of course, we got there late."

"Or maybe he's only interested in Egypt."

"Maybe. We'll take a look at everything tomorrow, see what comes up."

"So what are we doing tonight?"

Peter grinned and reached for the television remote. "Monday Night Football," he announced, clicking the power button. "The Giants versus the Eagles, a classic. And I made sure the hotel got ESPN," he added, scanning the channels.

Neal sighed and dropped the toothbrush. "Maybe I'll just be downstairs in the bar."

"The game will be on there too."

"But there's alcohol down there, which will make it easier."

"Oh, good point!" Peter clicked the television off and shrugged out of his jacket, dropping it on the bed. "Nothing goes better with football than a good cold beer."

"Well, if you're going to the bar, maybe I could just stay…"

"And miss a classic game?" Peter pushed Neal toward the door. "Come on. You'll thank me for this later!"

The police report was brief, with few extras attached, and nothing beyond what he had already seen – about what Peter had expected to find. Entry had been achieved through a back fire exit that had been certified as locked and secured by the day guard when he went off duty at 6:00. The night guard made no mention of the door in his log entries. The room with the Egyptian artifacts had been physically checked at midnight, and again two hours later – when the theft had been discovered. The alarm system had been bypassed, though the report contained no details.

Neal would probably have some ideas once they got to the Wexler – officially - this morning.

The agent assigned from the Pittsburgh FBI offices at least turned out to be pleasant and competent. Paula Clarkson was nearing retirement after a long career with the Bureau. Her desk was a hodgepodge of photos - children, grandchildren, pets – but her mind was clear of clutter. She had visited the Wexler after getting the call from Hughes and retrieved lists of security contractors and employees. She had preliminary reports waiting when Peter and Neal arrived.

Neal found the first link in a report he was reviewing – a contractor working for the security company that had installed a new system for the Wexler just a few weeks before the Egyptian display opened. The same man had worked as an independent contractor in New York.

And happened to be married to the half-sister of one Jeff Wallace.

An official visit to the museum led to back-stage access, and similar lapses in security to what they had seen at the Wentworth. It still wasn't enough to arrest Wallace, but they were getting closer.

A call from Neal to Gayle Hunt put the final pieces in play. She agreed to travel to Pittsburgh to take part in the grand re-opening of the Egyptian artifact display with 'new' pieces. Some of those pieces were the fragments she had already provided, and the name 'Dr. Gayle Hunt' on the announcement guaranteed the event an academic validity that would, hopefully, draw out the thief again.

Neal would create the other 'ancient artifacts' to fill in the displays. That required a visit to the local home and garden store for some terra cotta pottery – and a hammer to break it with. An art supply store provided the other tools needed. Clarkson managed to get a small conference room reserved for the next week, and it became a workroom.

And when Neal stepped back and let the agents see his work, Peter had to admit it was hard to tell the real artifacts from the forgeries until he picked up a piece and felt the difference in weight. From behind a glass case, no one would know the difference.

Everything was in place by Thursday and they flew back to New York for a few days. By Tuesday they were back in Pittsburgh, preparing for the Wednesday gala. This time Neal managed the waiting and the flight with no trepidation.

And he got his own hotel room.

The reception went off as planned, complete with Gayle's presentation. And afterward Peter understood why Neal admired the passion she had for her work.

The best news of all was that Jeffrey Wallace showed up, and was very interested in the displays. Neal encouraged the interest, posing as one of the exhibit curators.

Wallace's interest was shown again the next day when a representative of the museum's security company called to schedule an impromptu 'inspection' of the systems – which had been carefully restored to the pre-theft status.

The overnight surveillance Thursday night was a bust, as was Friday. And the surveillance van in Pittsburgh, borrowed from the local police, was even more claustrophobia-inducing than the one in New York.

Saturday night was more successful…

The black-garbed visitors arrived just before 2:00 on Sunday morning. They made it past the initial security, into the museum, and as far the room housing the Egyptian display before the lights came on and law enforcement personnel swarmed in. By noon on Sunday the thieves had cut a deal and named Jeffrey Wallace as the man behind the thefts. In turn, he folded and disclosed the location of the stolen artifacts by that night.

The paperwork took most of the day on Monday, and that night Clarkson took them out to dinner to celebrate the successful end to the case. Peter and Neal returned to New York on Tuesday morning. After the good work in Pittsburgh, Peter gave them the rest of the day off.

Neal spent the time working up his courage, and then calling Gayle Hunt to arrange for the return of the artifacts she had loaned them.