Sorry for the delay in updating; I've been sidetracked and playing various video games. Anyway, many thanks to MaraudingSnitch1314 for her review that reminded me that I haven't touched this file in forever. Without further ado, on to the next chapter!

I didn't own WC for the past two chapters, I still don't own it.

Neal searched his brain for a way to convince Peter, or even Hughes if he had to, that this case wasn't good. For the second time in his life Neal couldn't come up with a plan before he reached the top of a set of stairs. Or the bottom as the case may be.

Neal walked down the familiar stairs, taking his time with what could generously be described as a leisurely pace. A less generous person would compare his obvious reluctance at reaching the first floor to a man going to death row. For Neal it was essentially the same.

His mind raced for ways he could talk his way out of the situation. He could feel the cold metal of the ancient key digging into his leg through his pocket, or maybe he was just imagining that. But either way, he had still had no plan and he was fast approaching the ground floor.

He mentally ticked off the usual, airtight responses: He was with friends wouldn't work; it really didn't apply. He couldn't just say he was curious; he knew the contents that he was allowed to see of that box well enough. He couldn't blame it on chance, an opportune moment and a good dose of curiosity; his mother wasn't exactly careless. He couldn't say that the box just popped open or something; she would see through that immediately. He couldn't have mistaken the key for another; assuming that did happen, it would be like confusing an elephant with a gnat.

He reached the bottom step, and then firmly planted both feet. She wouldn't know if he waited just a bit longer…

"NEAL!"

Okay, maybe she would. And damn it, he didn't have a plan yet.

He forced his feet to move down onto the ground floor and over to the door of the living room…

Neal shook his head to clear it of the dusty memories and walked into the glass-walled office. Peter rolled his eyes and grumbled about something for a minute before being silenced by a stern look from Hughes.

Peter rose to his feet. "Can I go now?" he asked impatiently. "I have paperwork to be doing."

Hughes pointed at the door. "Go ahead," he sighed, his tone more than a little resigned. After Peter had left, he turned to Neal, Jones, and Diana. With a sweeping motion he indicated that they should sit. When they seemed fairly comfortable he said, "Okay, Caffrey, what do you know about Sorivelli?"

Neal took a deep breath and started talking, leaving out those parts that were entangled in his own history. Mentioning some of those might get a little out of hand.

…

When Hughes dismissed them, Neal jumped out of his seat, almost before the words were out of his boss's mouth.

Hughes raised his eyebrows.

"I'm going to go get Peter some coffee," Neal said smoothly, the words barely registering in his brain before he said them.

Hughes nodded. "Maybe that'll put him in a better mood."

Neal grinned. "You know how he likes his Italian Roast. Do you want me to get you some too?"

Hughes shook his head. "No thanks. I'm good right now." he motioned vaguely to a steaming cup on the table in front of him. "Just hurry, and don't go out of your radius."

Neal automatically made a face at the reminder and slipped out of the room. Hughes hadn't seen the way his hands were shaking; Neal was certain of that. He forced himself to keep an unhurried pace and smile and wave at the various people he passed by.

It was only when he was out of the building that he allowed the familiar facade to drop. No one took a second glance at him as he searched for a way to get out of the case.

He bought the coffee and took his time getting back to the building. However, he was still drawing a blank on any helpful ideas by the time he was standing in front of the federal building.

He turned around before anyone noticed where he was heading and pulled out his phone.

"Yes?" Moz asked after picking up on the third ring.

"We got a Sorivelli case. Any idea on how to convince Peter to give it back to Organized Crime?"

"Hey, calm down," Moz soothed, obviously catching how Neal's voice steadily rose. "We'll think of something. Just get through the day, and I'll meet you at your place when you get home. I'm heading over there right now. Do you want me to arrange for protection for June?"

"Yeah. I think that would be best. Could you keep an eye on El too?"

"That was my plan. Mrs. Suit doesn't know anything about this yet, does she?"

Neal sighed. "Not really, and I'm not sure Peter is going to want us to tell her."

"I'll figure something out," Moz promised. "See you when the Suit sends you home."

Neal took a few deep breaths to compose himself as he walked back towards the building. By the time he reached Peter's office he was sure that no one would be able to tell how uneasy he was about taking this case.

Peter glanced up from the various papers strewn across his desk when Neal entered. He pointed at a chair in front of his desk and went back to the papers.

After a few minutes of silence (other than the sounds of paper being carelessly moved and thrown around) Neal firmly set the cup of coffee right under Peter's nose.

Peter grabbed it immediately and took a huge gulp, swallowing quickly as the hot liquid burned his mouth. His expression softened slightly and Neal treated it as a smile; it was as close as he was going to get at the moment.

"What's up?" Neal asked.

Peter scowled. "El and I had plans. A lunch reservation at a fancy restaurant, and then various other things throughout the day. We haven't been spending a whole lot of time together, and a grateful client recently gave her a rather large check."

Neal nodded. "I see. This will just irritate you more, but I don't think we should take this case."

Peter passed a hand in front of his eyes. "And why shouldn't we?"

Neal swallowed. "I know Sorivelli, and his case doesn't belong with us. It should go right back to organized crime."

Peter shrugged. "We've solved cases for organized crime before. What's so different about this one?"

Neal shook his head. "Peter, if we take this case Sorivelli will kill everyone close to us and then... well, they'll never find the bodies."

Peter frowned. "Neal, how do you know Sorivelli? He doesn't sound like someone you'd know."

Neal opened his mouth and closed it several times. Peter shook his head. "Caffrey, just go get some mortgage fraud cases done or something. We'll come back to this case later. I'm not in the mood to deal with you."

Neal stood up. So that was a no. Peter was going to take the case whether his consultant liked it or not.

"You're going to regret taking this case," he warned over his shoulder before slipping out the door.

He made his way over to his desk to find his phone vibrating. He smiled to himself as he picked up; Moz must have found something to keep Peter from taking the case already.

"What do you have?" he asked as he picked up.

"Hey son, how have you been? Haven't heard from you in a while. What are you and the FBI up to? They aren't looking into me, are they?"

Neal swore. "Sorivelli."

As usual, review please? And hopefully now that a friend is bribing me to get this finished I will be able to update more freqently(no promises though, especially since I'm working backwards)