A/N-The italics in the beginning is a flashback. Just thought that would come in handy…
A/N2- all you guys that voted in my poll are awesome! And you know what? VIRTUAL PARTY AT MY PLACE! With free virtual cake, cookies, ice cream, and a plan of world domination involving bubble wrap, pudding, and grammar.
A/N3- (yes, there's a third one) I love all you guys who reviewed my story so far! And I would give you all a virtual hug but you might not want to be touched by a random girl you don't know.
Anyways…chapter 6!
Neal sipped his espresso while vainly trying to hide the look of disgust from his face. Mozzie always told him that he was a picky coffee drinker and Neal was determined to prove him wrong and how do you do that? Practice. Neal scrunched his face as he took another sip from his cup of mud. Maybe if it was more…European. Except Neal was already in Europe and, so far, their coffee was nothing to be proud of. Perhaps a different part of Europe then. The conman glanced up as the chair in front of him scrapped against the concrete.
Blue eyes met unfamiliar brown ones.
"Hello," Neal said after a moment hesitation. "Please sit."
"Thank you," the stranger said in accented English as he sat down comfortably in the patio chair.
"From around here?" Neal asked, recognizing his accent.
"Vhy, yes," the man smiled approvingly as if he was surprised of Neal's deductive skills of placing an accent he'd heard for over a month now. The conman wasn't sure if he should be insulted or not. "So, vhy are you visiting the fine country of Austria?"
"Business," Neal answered with shrug. "Bridges don't build themselves these days."
"Really? You build bridges?" The Austrian asked in interest. "I have a cousin who's helping to build the new bridge. Perhaps you know him? His name is Alexander."
Neal laughed, buying himself enough time to think of a story. He hadn't even been aware that a bridge was being built. "Alexander is your cousin? Whoa, did not see the family resemblance. He's a great guy, but gets distracted real easy. I swear, half my job is keeping him on task," he added with a fond chuckle.
The Austrian laughed quietly. "You're a fine liar."
Neal froze for a half a second before constructing his face into a slightly puzzled expression. "Pardon?"
The Austrian laughed. "Oh, I could get used to you! You're just so…refreshing."
"Glad to be of service?" Neal offered, ignoring the growing bad feeling in the pit of his stomach.
"I truly hope so," the Austrian said. "Neal Caffrey." Neal blinked. Random stranger knowing his name—definitely not good. "You see, I've heard about your vonderful heist of the Manteca Jewel and you've caught my attention. Mostly due to the fact that I vas going after it as vell, but that's neither here nor there." Neal made an apologetic gesture. No harm in trying to get on his potential-assailant's good side. "So, your probably vondering vhat the man who knows your name and real job vants."
Neal nodded. "It's crossed my mind."
"I vas about to take a new job and when I suddenly realized that I vas in need of a forger," the Austrian studied Neal, "such as yourself. I trust you can do forgeries on paintings as vell as stones?"
Neal had a feeling that the Austrian already knew the answer, but replied anyway. "Yes."
"Good, good," the Austrian said pleasantly. "So."
"So." Neal wasn't going to say it if the Austrian wasn't. The conman honestly had been planning on going back to Paris with Kate and pawn off the jewel there, but this Austrian did not look like a man to cross lightly.
"Vould you like to join in?" Neal hesitated as he thought over his answer. "You'll get paid vell," the Austrian assured him. Neal bit his lip. He did have to pay off his dept to Loney…and if he did whatever the job was then he could have enough money to actually buy Kate's anniversary present. She liked it when he did that. Besides, this just sounds like a one-shot deal…
"I'm in," Neal finally said. The Austrian grinned.
"Is it normal for someone to be out this long?" a nervous voice whispered. Kind of sounded like Steve. Wait…why was Steve in my dream? Well, more of a memory, but still. The concept is the same…
"He's been through a lot. God knows what Badeni did to him," a hoarse British voice answered. Hmmm…that sounded more like Hank. Good old Hank. Emphasis on the 'old' part.
"Yeah, I can't believe Badeni managed to break Neal's ribs," a contemptuous voice said…ok that had to be Tommy. Geez what was with everybody intruding in his dream…memory…whatever. He didn't bust into their dreams. It's called common courtesy.
"Cracked. Badeni cracked his ribs," Hank corrected. Ouch. Badeni broke some bloke's ribs. Poor guy.
"Ok, he should be waking up soon," Steve said worriedly. "We gave him enough pain killers didn't we?"
"Probably too much," Hank said. Neal absentmindedly began to hum "Le Café" under his breath. Instantly, the voices above him stopped conversing.
"Huh…he's singing."
"Actually, he's humming."
"About coffee?"
"Apparently."
"At least we know he's awake. Neal? Neal, can you hear me?" Hank asked a little louder.
Hank jumped back in surprised as Neal opened his mouth and belted:
"Pour bien commencer,
Ma petite journée,
Et me réveiller
Moi je pris un café-"
"Let's just pretend that's a yes," Tommy suggested with a laugh as the conman continued to sing. Neal cracked open his eyes to see Hank nod his consent while Tommy and Steve were being reduced to giggles.
"Hey, Neal," Steve greeted, seeing Neal's blue eyes open. "How do you feel?"
"Great…" Neal said honestly, then his brow furrowed. "But a little ticked off that Badeni showed up and made Peter and everyone think I'm a no good traitorous criminal…but besides that I feel…great… Unarabica, Noir et bien corcé."
"Note to self," Tommy said with a grin, "Don't get Neal high."
"Hey!" Neal shouted indignantly. "I take offence to that!"
"People not wanting you high?" Steve asked curiously.
Neal contemplated that for moment. "Yes."
"Alright then…So," Tommy began with a mischievous glint in his eye. "What's the most embarrassing thing that has ever happened to you?"
"Tommy!" Hank scolded. "That is hardly fair."
"Oh c'mon! Tell me that you're not interested."
"I'm not interested."
"Well, you hardly count, Hank," Tommy said dismissively.
"Once," Neal began, "in ninth grade, I was in the guys locker room-"
"Neal!" Hank interrupted. "Stop. Talking."
Tommy pouted. "You're no fun."
Neal giggled. "You're pouting!"
"Am not."
"Are to."
"Am not."
"Are to."
"Am-"
"Hate too break up this little...get-together," Badeni said as he burst through the break room door, with his loyal lapdog at his heel," but Neal and I have business to discuss,"
"He's hardly in the condition for you and to discuss your 'business' with him," Hank said angrily. "You and Don can come by later."
Badeni gave Hank a pitying smile. "Hank, I think you're forgetting who is the employee and who is the employer. Besides, you all seemed to have patched up Mr. Caffrey just fine." Badeni gestured towards Neal's bandaged chest. "So, Don, I'll leave it to you to explain to Mr. Caffrey vhat he needs to do to…appease me. Steve, come vith me. It's time to put your hacking skills to good use." Neal watched as Don nodded eagerly to Steve and Badeni's disappearing forms. Kind of like a love-sick puppy. There was suddenly a very bad covered up laugh as Don turned and glared at Neal. Uh oh.
"Did I say that out-loud?" Neal inquired, more puzzled then worried.
"Yes," Don said shortly.
"Ah…" Neal digested that information, "my bad. So, you have something for me?" Don stiffly opened up the box. Huh. He should take up yoga. Do that whole relax and become one with your inner self deal. Neal saw Don's knuckles whiten. Ah. Must've said that out loud to. The FBI would have a field day if he continued accidentally saying his thoughts out loud.
"Here it is," Don presented without ceremony, apparently deciding to ignore the doped up conman's commentary. "The Emperor of Spain's statue." Neal attempted to focus on the dragon statue, but had no luck. His eyes seemed determined to stay hazy, no matter how many times Neal blinked. The conman felt Don's eyes burning a hole in him as if waiting for a response.
"Huh," Neal offered.
"You were expecting something else?" Don asked coolly, his eyes not wavering from Neal's.
Neal tried to think…what had he been expecting? It was hard to put two and four together in his drugged up state. Slightly confused, he attempted to put together a halfway intelligent answer. "A painting of some sort. Not a statue that could take weeks to forge." Hmm… not bad…almost sounds like something I would normally say. Neal was also quite pleased to note that he didn't say that aloud either.
"I'm sure you're supposed to just start on it," Don said stiffly.
Well, that seems pointless. Every forger knew that the most difficult part of a forgery was the surface detail. If Badeni wanted him to do any part of the forgery, it would probably be the detailed surface, not the typically unimportant starting block. "But who's going to finish it?"
"Uh…me," Don said as if it were obvious.
"Oh! So you're the forger that the FBI caught," Neal said in a sudden revelation.
"They did not catch me," Don snapped.
"That's right. They only caught your forgery," Tommy mocked. Don gave Tommy an offended look.
Neal puckered his brow, but was silently pleased that everything seemed less sluggish. Now, what would high me say right now…? "Well, that's not much better." Hank and Tommy grinned at Don's frustration. Neal silently patted himself on the back. If Hank and Tommy didn't know he was acting then there was no way Don would. Of course, Hank and Tommy could know he's acting and were deciding not to inform Don of that little tid-bit, but he still wouldn't have anything to worry about. Unless, they're waiting to talk to Don away from him. Then he would have to—Neal intentionally halted his thoughts in their tracks. Geez, since when have I been so paranoid? I've been hanging around Mozzie too much. It's bad for my health. Of course, Moz insists that it keeps him away from prison. Even though it's looking like I'm heading there anyway, Neal thought glumly as he remembered all the betrayed looks the federal agents had when he left the room with Badeni.
"So…get started," Don ordered.
Neal blinked. He'd forgotten Don was there. "No."
Don gave Neal an incredulous look. "Why not?"
"It's hot, Don!" Neal whined. He planned to use the 'I'm too high to do anything' card for as long as possible. Neal watched in delight as Don sighed in exasperation. Oh, this is going to be fun.
~O~
Steve followed Badeni's leisurely pace worriedly. Anyone else would think that a leisurely pace was a good thing—those naïve people would probably think it meant no worries, no problems. Those people would be dead wrong, pun intended, at least when it applied to Badeni. The angrier Badeni grew, the calmer he appeared. So right now, this calm, leisurely pace meant one thing and one thing only. Something, or more likely someone, has ticked Badeni off and the boss in a bad mood never boded well for any of his employees…or henchmen Steve added silently as they passed yet another brainless goon with a gun.
"So," Steve started timidly trying to sound casual, "what's wrong?"
Badeni shot the hacker a sideways look. "Vhat gives you the impression that something's wrong?"
Steve shrugged jerkily. "I have picked up something since I began to work for you."
"I hope you picked up something after five years," Badeni said sardonically as he burst through the doors leading to the main office area. "I need you to hack into this." The Austrian gestured towards an ordinary-looking computer. Actually, it wasn't even a computer. It was a laptop.
Steve tried to ignore the FBI agents' glares. "What's so special about it?"
Badeni snorted. "You don't actually expect our lovely friends," he gestured towards the agents, "to not hide their most valuable information. Do you?"
"Hiding in plain site," Steve said appreciatively. "clever."
"I'm glad you think so," Badeni said. "Now hack."
Steve nodded briefly as he sat down in front of the computer.
~O~
A Federal Agent silently watched as the hacker attempted to hack on the arguable most important computer in the FBI Headquarters. If he succeeded in obtaining the information in there or worse changing it…the federal agent bit their lip to stop the thought process from continuing. That won't happen, the agent thought, but no matter. If it does…the agent patted the detonator button hidden inside their jacket pocket comfortingly. If it does happen, then I can always resort to plan B…
Well, that ended differently than I expected. Hoped you like the drugged up Neal bit!
Yeah, that French song that I have Neal singing is about the 'evils of coffee' and I just couldn't resist putting that in here. Just type in 'Le café' on YouTube and it should pop up. I highly recommend you listen to it. It's really catchy.
Oh and REVIEW!