Note from the Phoenix: Daniel and Neal's first heist is directly based off a real life heist that took place in Paris. I changed the dates since this was a recent heist, but a lot of the details are the same. Of course I had to fill in some gaps since the thief has not been caught.

Thanks to Buttermilk for helping me out with French wine and Paris in general!

White Collar: The Eye of Sita

Chapter Twelve

"I can't believe it...Pairs." Neal beamed. "You can just reach out and touch history here."

"Great." Daniel said with little enthusiasm.

Neal didn't even notice how tense Daniel was in the new city. He was far too preoccupied with the sights, sounds, and smells of the busy city. Although he'd spent most of his life in the desolate suburbs of Texas and the isolation of Robert's mansion, he always felt most at home in a crowd. There was just something about being around the chaos and energy of a big city. Everywhere he looked Neal discovered the living representations of the things he'd only read about in Robert's library.

Daniel scanned the street with a different kind of eye. He was on high alert for potential marks and anyone who might be a threat. The magic of the city seemed completely lost on him. Neal had never even been out of Texas before and finding himself practically on the other side of the world was exhilarating.

"Did you know that this city is practically unchanged since 1860?" Neal asked as he carefully memorized the near by archway so that he could paint it later.

"Yeah, fucking fascinating."

"You're such a philistine." Neal sighed. "This is the heart of the art world. Moiturier, Desportes, Moreau, Dupre, Monet, Bourdelle...all French."

"You forgot Matisse. Who is the real reason we're here."

"There is so much more to learn here than just the heist. Robert is helping us see the world, you know we'd both be stuck in Texas for the rest of our lives without him. He's giving us an amazing opportunity here."

"Don't fool yourself, Neal, we are nothing more than Caffrey's dogs. He just sent us here to fetch."

"You don't really believe that do you? Daniel, we're his family."

"You want to test that theory?" Daniel hissed. "Try getting arrested while we're over here and see what happens. Trust me, we are easier to replace than help. That's not what a family is."

"Daniel?" Neal asked confused. "You've never been so hostile towards Robert before. What's wrong?"

"A real father wouldn't dump you in a foreign country with no money, no place to stay, and no way out."

"He's teaching us to be independent."

"You're sixteen, Neal, you're not meant to be independent yet. About all I can say for Caffrey at this point is that at least he didn't send you alone."

"What happened on your sixteenth? Where did he send you?"

"New York."

"I'd love to see New York." Neal smiled. "I bet I could love New York."

"Crowded, cold, heartless city." Daniel spat. "I'll never go back."

Neal was confused by Daniel's sudden aggression, it wasn't a side of him that he'd ever seen before. He had noticed that as time past Daniel was becoming more rebellious, but now he seemed truly angry. Neal walked by his side as they came to a large stone fountain in the middle of a square. The fountain had detailed sculptures of cherubs and angels playing in the spray.

"Stay here." Daniel demanded. "I'll be back in a few hours, don't wander off too far."

"Where are you going?"

"I'm going hunting. We need a place to stay."

"Why can't I come?"

"This is a one man con, stay here."

"I can help you, trust me."

"No." Daniel said firmly. "Just stay out of trouble."

"I'm not as young as you think." Neal growled. "Stop treating me like a child."

"You are a child." Daniel hissed back. "This is the real world out here, Neal, back home you were a big fish in a small pond. Here you're little more than food for the sharks."

"I can take of myself."

"As long as Caffrey isn't around I am in charge and you'll do as I say or so help me God I will lock you up in some basement for the next two weeks until it is time to go home."

"If you suddenly hate Robert so much, why go back at all?"

"I still need him, besides I'm not going to leave you alone with him."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"For someone so smart how can you be so naive?"

Daniel didn't even give Neal a chance to answer the question, he just stalked off into the crowd. Suddenly alone in the foreign city Neal felt a pang of anxiety, but he wasn't sure if it was from being so far from home or from Daniel's odd behavior. Looking around at all the tourists Neal quickly shrugged off his uneasiness. Daniel hadn't said anything about not hunting while he was away, and in Paris Neal felt like a wolf among sheep.

Neal began prowling the surrounding area. Even within just a square mile there was plenty to see and do. He quickly discovered that it was better to pretend to be a Canadian that spoke no French than to speak French with an American accent. During his exploration Neal managed to pick up a bottle of Chateau Latour 1970, a bottle that was on the borderline of being a collector's item. Believing more in the spirit of drinking wine rather than letting it turn thick on a shelf he set himself up at a small cafe to enjoy the rich wine.

It was near noon when Daniel arrived back at the fountain. Neal was lounging at the cafe across the way with more than half a bottle of Chateau Latour in his veins. Feeling no pain Neal watched as Daniel started to become increasingly agitated with not finding him. Neal tried to get up, but fell back into the patio chair with Paris spinning around him.

"Daniel!" Neal called out.

"Neal?"

"Over here!"

Daniel turned around and rushed over to Neal. Neal had the bottle of wine on the table, but he was civilized enough to be pouring it into a glass. He'd ordered far more food than he could eat and most of the plates on the table were still untouched. Daniel looked Neal over disapprovingly and pointed at the vintage bottle of wine.

"Did you steal that?"

"I did. You want some?" Neal smiled as he picked up the bottle to pour another glass. "Ran a Missionary Double Back on this little shop."

"Give me that." Daniel took the bottle and tossed it in the trash.

"Hey," Neal protested drunkenly "that was really expensive."

"And here you are drinking it out in the open."

"No one seemed to notice."

"Get up."

"Can't."

"I shouldn't have left you alone." Daniel sighed.

Daniel reached into his back pocket and pulled out a large amount of bills. He estimated how much the food on the table cost and then doubled it. Tossing the money on the table he slipped in under Neal's shoulder and helped him stand. Daniel lead Neal away from the more crowded area to a deserted back alley. Neal suddenly doubled over and retched violently.

"That Latour is strong stuff." Neal giggled. "I probably won't be able to move tomorrow."

"It will serve you right."

"When did you suddenly become no fun, Daniel?"

"When one of us had to become the adult."

"I'm plenty adu..." Neal stopped as he threw up again.

"Yeah, vomiting Chateau Latour 1970 in a back alley in Paris. Your Momma would be so proud."

"I told you never to mention her." Neal snarled.

"You haven't talked to her in what...four years? Does she even know you're still alive?"

Baring his teeth at Daniel in animal fury Neal launched himself at him. Daniel easily stepped to the side and grabbed Neal by the collar. Daniel held Neal at arm's length easily as Neal continued to try to get to him. When Neal didn't stop struggling against him Daniel suddenly let go. Stumbling forward drunkenly Neal fell to the cobblestone street. Unable to get back up he just rolled over onto his back and looked up at Daniel.

"Are you going to calm down?" Daniel asked without sympathy.

"I don't feel so good..." Neal admitted.

"I hope you learned something."

Neal smiled and tried to answer, but he blacked out. The red rays of sunset were painting the room when Neal woke back up. He wasn't sure how Daniel had managed it, but he was laying on an antique couch in a lavish living room. Looking out the old style windows Neal could see the Moulin de La Galette windmill which had inspired countless artists over the years. The windmill told him that they had ended up in Montmartre. Neal smiled, Renoir, Monet, Van Gogh and Picasso had all lived in Montmartre.

Daniel's voice speaking in hushed French caught Neal's attention. Despite the pounding headache Neal sat up and looked over the back of the couch. Daniel was speaking with an older gentle man, thanking him for something. The man leaned in and kissed Daniel's cheek. Daniel turned away, but allowed the intimate contact. The man trailed his hand down Daniel's chest slowly before turning and leaving. Neal had read that the French were affectionate, but he hadn't realized that they were that 'touchy'. Once the man was gone Daniel sighed heavily and dragged his hands through his blonde hair.

"Daniel?" Neal asked in concern.

"Neal." Daniel turned and smiled. "Feeling any better?"

"I am...sorry about attacking you like that."

"It's okay, you were pretty drunk."

"I'm still a little tipsy." Neal admitted. "Who was that guy?"

"He owns these flats, rents them out to tourists. He's going to let us stay here for the next two weeks."

"Really? This place is amazing." Neal said as he got to his feet and walked over to Daniel. "What is it costing us to stay here?"

"Don't worry about it." Daniel shrugged. "I've got us covered."

"Your shirt is buttoned wrong." Neal pointed out. "I don't remember it being like that earlier..."

"Are you hungry?" Daniel asked as he corrected his buttons.

"Not really, but this is Paris so I'm not about to pass up a chance at the food."

"Okay, let's hit a cafe. We can lift some cash along the way."

"What do you think I've been doing all day?" Neal reached into his back pocket and pulled out a large amount of francs.

"You're way too good at that." Daniel smiled.

"The French are pretty good at it too." Neal chuckled. "I had some fun letting the locals lift emptied wallets from me. Two of them were able to do so without me noticing."

"You really do enjoy all of this don't you?" Daniel asked seriously. "It's not just about money, is it?"

"It's never been about the money. I see it as another form of art, and I can appreciate other artists."

"You're so strange." Daniel sighed. "I want a steak and a beer, do they do that here or do they only serve snails and shit like that?"

"France has been raising cattle longer than Texas has."

"That doesn't mean they're better at it."

"I'm sure we can find you something. This is Paris after all."

"So you keep telling me."

A week in Paris went by all too quickly for Neal. Before long they needed to get down to serious business on getting the Matisse. At first Daniel had insisted on doing the heist alone, however Neal told him that nothing was going to keep him from the action. Eventually Daniel realized that the Art Museum was a two person job at the least any way.

In the few days before the actual break in Daniel and Neal took turns visiting the museum next to the Palais de Tokyo. One system at a time they started to dismantle the security. They kept close tabs on any repair work to ensure that the museum hadn't gotten around to fixing the bugs they had introduced into the system. Rather than fix the expensive equipment they simply added a few lazy night guards for the time being. It only took two nights of recon to find that the guards spent most of their time playing cards and drinking with one another downstairs.

When the night finally arrived the only things that stood between the young thieves and the treasure trove was a pad lock and a pane of glass. Daniel picked the lock easily. It took Neal's athletics to climb up the court yard tree and make the dangerous leap over to the balcony on the second floor. He'd then lowered a rope to allow Daniel to join him.

There was no lock on the outside of the window, it was held closed by a bar that could only be removed from the inside. The caulk however was old and they were able to simply carve the glass out. Neal was thin enough to slip in through the open pane and remove the bar so that Daniel could come in the now open window. Once inside Daniel went directly to the Matisse and pulled out a razor blade.

"Are you insane?" Neal hissed quietly as he grabbed Daniel's wrist.

"What? This is what we came for."

"You're about to put a knife through a Matisse!"

"How else are we going to get it out of here?"

"Just back away from the painting, okay? Let me handle this."

Daniel looked around nervously. He could hear the guards laughing down stairs. Neal rummaged through his back pack and pulled out a small kit. With the alarms disabled he was able to bring the framed work off the wall. Working carefully he disassembled the frame and pulled the nails out of the canvas.

"Hurry up, Neal." Daniel pressed.

"Relax, this isn't one of your smash and grab jewelry heists. This needs to be done carefully to avoid damage."

"Just get it done."

"Almost there."

Neal peeled the Matisse off the stretching frame where it had been since 1906 and gently rolled it up. Daniel snatched the painting from Neal and put it in his back pack. Grabbing Neal by the back of the collar he started to lead him back to the open window. Daniel was out on the balcony when Neal hesitated and looked back into the gallery.

"Come on, Neal, we got what we needed, let's go."

"Wait...why are we just taking the one?"

"Because this is the one Caffrey wants."

"I want some of the others."

"Damn it, Neal." Daniel growled. "This is not the time or the place to get greedy."

"It's not about money, Daniel." Neal said defensively. "If I have originals to study up close I can improve my own paintings. I have to be able to touch them, photos just aren't enough."

"Forget that. Neal, let's just go."

"You can go, I'm going to stay. I'll meet you back at the flat."

"Neal, no!"

It was too late, Neal was back in the artistic candy shop. He went up to each painting and carefully contemplated its value as an art subject. Neal chose several paintings that were not the artist's most famous works, but gave the best representation of their style. He carefully removed a Braque, a l'Estaque, a Modigliani, and a Picasso for good measure.

"Neal, that's enough...we need to get out of here. They will make sure we are murdered gruesomely in prison if they catch us."

"Just one more."

"How about this one." Daniel grabbed the nearest painting.

"No, don't take that one." Neal stopped Daniel.

"Why not?"

"It's not real, it's one of Robert's."

"How can you tell?"

"You see this pattern in the brush strokes here?"

"No."

"Upside down, backwards 'RC'...it's his signature."

"Whatever, just get what you want and let's go."

Neal took down one last painting and removed it carefully from the frame. When Neal had his back turned Daniel slash Robert's painting with his razor before he placed it back on the wall. It was near sunrise when Daniel was finally able to pull Neal out of the Museum. They didn't have time to put the window pane back like they had planed. Using the rope that Neal had placed they hit the ground running.

The papers actually described their night as 'the heist of the century' with the art taken worth nearly ninety million pounds. Despite Daniel begging him not to Neal had gone to the museum the next morning and was amused to see that it had been shut down for the day due to 'technical reasons'. The head of the neighboring gallery, Pierre Cornette de Saint-Cry had made a statement to the press that the paintings were 'unsellable' and that the thieves were 'imbeciles'. Neal had smile, nothing was 'unsellable' and he didn't mind waiting ten years to fence them. He figured he'd need at least that to study them. All in all Paris had been well worth the trip.

"Neal?" Peter's voice invaded the memory. "Neal?"

"Hmm?" Neal asked.

Neal had not been willing to share the story of his first, and perhaps his greatest heist with Peter. Having been reminded of it he'd become lost in the memory and had been sitting silently for the past few minutes. When he hadn't continued with his story about his sixteenth birthday Peter had been forced to encourage him.

"You were going to tell me something about going to Paris?"

"Oh right," Neal smiled "Paris was nice."

"Nice?"

"Very pretty."

"What happened over there?"

"Nothing special."

"Neal..."

"I lost my virginity to a high pric..."

"Okay, enough about Paris." Peter interrupted quickly. "Back to Texas, what pushed Daniel into murdering Robert?"

With his mind taken off good times Neal instantly sobered. Peter could see the chance in Neal's eyes and didn't pressure him. Neal found his pulse racing at memory that he had tried to put behind him for so many years. Neal closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"You think you can know someone, you think you can trust them, but you can't. You can never predict how someone will act, or what they'll do, how far they'll go when pushed."

"I take it you never felt that Daniel would hurt Robert."

"It wasn't just Robert," Neal whispered "Daniel tried to kill me as well."

"Why?"

"Daniel and I had been in the same house together for years, but we had been living in two totally different worlds..."