Note from the Phoenix: If any of you are wondering how I update so fast it is because I'm waiting on a gallbladder surgery and I can't work until it's over and I'm healed. So I literally have nothing better to do. So enjoy, but don't get too used to this pace of updating. Once I'm back at work I'll have less time to sit with my laptop developing carpal tunnel syndrome...:)

White Collar: The Eye of Sita

Chapter Two

"Nice. Peter, I'm impressed."

Neal walked into the spacious suite that the D.C office had provided. The modern decor was minimalist, but still managed to not feel cold. The lush white carpeting gave way to a set of glass french doors that opened up onto a planted patio. There was a breathtaking view of the Washington Channel and the flowering trees that lined its banks. Neal walked up to the well stocked bar set in the right wall and nodded in approval.

"This hotel makes me feel like a high class escort." Neal smiled mischievously. "I'm going to go find a Senator, bring him back here, and run a Badger Game scam."

"This is your best behavior?" Peter asked darkly.

"I was kidding. This is a vacation, lighten up."

"Vacation for you, thankless work for another department for me."

"Anytime you get to spend your nights in a place like this it's vacation, even if it's a working one."

"Don't get too comfortable here." Peter warned.

"Too late."

"And don't you dare bring anyone back here." Peter continued. "It's a set up suite for DEA stings, the whole place is wired for surveillance."

"Did someone from Art Crimes call in a favor with the DEA or did you?"

"It's nearing election time, there isn't an extra hotel room in all of D.C available on such short notice."

"Someone went to a lot of trouble to get you down here in a hurry." Neal mused. "You have to tell me what this is all about, the curiosity is killing me."

"I'm just following orders."

"Wow...spoken like a true Fed, or a war criminal."

"Neal." Peter growled.

"Alright, alright," Neal held his hands up in a gesture of peace "I'm sorry."

Peter looked like he was going to say something else, but instead he just carried his luggage into one of the bedrooms. Neal was particularly interested in a black case that Peter seemed protective of, even if he was trying to be nonchalant about it. It was a little larger than a brief case, but still held the standard rolling combination lock on it. It wasn't something that Neal could remember seeing with Peter before, but it had scratches and wear on it that showed it wasn't new.

Neal hadn't brought much along with him, he had mastered the art of packing light during his years on the run. Peter had come along with him to the apartment and had been surprised by how quickly Neal was ready to leave. He had seemed anxious in the apartment and despite Neal's record speed packing Peter was definitely in a hurry to leave and rushed him out the door.

"Toothbrush." Neal muttered to himself.

"What?" Peter asked as he came back into the main room.

"I forgot to bring a toothbrush."

"Amazingly enough I think they sell those here in D.C."

"Excellent. Disaster averted."

Peter made a slight noise of irritated frustration and started pacing around the room like a tiger that had just been introduced to a new zoo habitat. He had been quiet during the ride down, but that wasn't unusual. However, it was still clear that he didn't want to be in D.C and that he was hating each second with every fiber of his being. Neal didn't like it when Peter was on edge, it always placed him on egg shells as well.

"Are you sure I can't help you on this case?" Neal asked trying to be helpful.

"I don't even know what it is yet."

"So other divisions of the F.B.I can just commandeer you for cases whenever they want without giving you details?"

"I haven't been 'commandeered'." Peter corrected.

"You clearly don't want to be here."

"I don't like this city, I left for a reason."

"That's right," Neal said as he remembered "you started off your career in the Art Crimes division here in Washington. What made you make the change to White Collar and New York?"

"Politics."

Neal was a little taken aback by the sudden aggression in Peter's voice. He had started getting the feeling hours ago that Peter knew more about this mystery case than he was letting on. He had proof of that now. Peter put his hands on his hips and became lost in thought, or at least that's what it looked like. Experience told Neal that now was not the time to press Peter for more information.

"Well, you know where to find me if you need my help." Neal forced a smile. "Speaking of which, the Smithsonian doesn't close for a few more hours."

"Have fun."

"Why don't you come with me?"

"I should go touch base with the D.C office." Peter said evasively.

Peter turned and disappeared back into the bedroom where he'd left his luggage. He came back out with the black case that had caught Neal's attention. When Neal saw he was going to head for the door he casually placed himself in the way. Peter stopped and tried to stare Neal down.

"Neal..."

"It's nearly four o'clock, they'll be going home for the day by the time you get to the office in this traffic. The Natural History Museum is open till seven thirty, and you can walk to it from here in ten minutes. We've been in the car for the past five hours a little walking around will do you some good."

"I can't." Peter insisted. "You go."

Staying between Peter and the door Neal slipped his hands into his pockets and studied his friend. He'd never been good at hiding his stress, but today it was emblazoned on his face. Neal didn't like it, but he wasn't sure what he was dealing with yet. More and more he was starting to think that one of his past crimes was about to bite him in the ass courtesy of the D.C Art Crimes division.

"What?" Peter demanded in irritation. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Nothing." Neal replied innocently. "I just can't believe you're passing up a chance to see the Hope Diamond."

"I've seen it." Peter shrugged. "It's not all that exciting."

"How can it not be exciting?" Neal asked incredulously. "Peter, it's the Hope Diamond."

"It's a gaudy blue rock."

"It's an immortal piece of history."

"I just don't see the world the same way you do." Peter sighed in exasperation.

"Obviously."

"Look, Neal, do whatever you want." Peter said dismissivly as he pushed past Neal. "I have to go."

"'Do whatever I want?'." Neal repeated in shock. "Are you sure you mean that?"

Peter didn't reply, he was already heading out the door with the case. Neal was left standing in the middle of the lavish hotel suite with a concerned expression. He glanced down at his anklet, the orange light told him that he wasn't on any kind of radius. It would still record where he was going, but it wouldn't keep him from going anywhere. It wasn't like Peter to allow him so much freedom, particularly in a new city full of priceless treasures.

"Something is very wrong here..."