A/N: Wow! I am utterly blown away by the response that this story has sparked so far. It's barely been up for two days, and it has already become my most-alerted story to date. The sheer number of profile views that I've received since posting is utterly staggering to me. I want to give a HUGE thank you to everyone who left such wonderful reviews (:, as well as everyone who favorited and alerted and anyone at all who has read this. I appreciate you all so much, and you have no idea what it means to me. I want to hug every one of you.

Little side-note: the title "In My Veins" comes from the song that I streamlined throughout the writing process. Random fact.

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CHAPTER TWO: The Second Ring

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The phone picked up on the second ring. "You made the right choice, kid."

Neal gritted his teeth, a sour taste in his mouth. "Cut the crap," he snapped into the phone. "What are you doing here?"

"Now, Neal, is that any way to talk to your father?"

"I don't know, I never really had one to practice on."

A pause on the line. "Okay, I deserved that. Now can we talk like adults? I came to New York to see you."

"You're a wanted criminal," Neal reminded him. "Do you think that I haven't looked into you since I found out the truth? I could call the feds on you right now, and you wouldn't make it out of the city."

"You're not going to do that," his father said with absolute confidence. "Not before we have a chance to talk. I want to see you."

Neal bit back a bitter response. It was his turn to hesitate, taking a deep breath as his mind ran back to June's advice from the night before. He made a decision. "Okay, fine. We can talk. But we're going to do it on my terms this time, not yours. You upset my landlady last night."

His father laughed. "Son, that woman would probably take a bullet for you. You're lucky."

"I know," Neal said simply. "Now, if you want to talk, this is how it's gonna go..."

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Twenty minutes later, Neal arrived home to find June waiting for him. "Well?" she asked when he walked through the door. "What did you decide to do?"

Neal sighed. "I asked Peter for the weekend off," he shrugged, "and I have a meeting tomorrow morning, at the end of my leash. I'm gonna see him, whether I'm ready for this or not."

June took his hand. The look on her face was motherly and proud, and it started a warm swell in Neal's chest. "I'll help you with whatever you need," she promised. "I used to help Byron back in the old days when he was running cons."

"Yeah, only this will be real," Neal reminded her.

She nodded. "Yes, it will. Did you happen to tell Peter why you were taking the weekend off?"

Neal frowned, thrown off by the abrupt switch of topics. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Well, you are going into this more or less alone. I'd feel a lot better about the situation if I knew he had your back, on the off-chance that things go badly. I would if I could, but these bones aren't as young as they used to be..."

"I don't want him involved in this, not if he doesn't have to be," Neal insisted. "If things change, it might be another story; but right now this is something that I have to deal with on my own."

She sighed. "Whatever you say, Neal; but I think you should reconsider. Peter is your friend, you know. He can help you."

"I know. It's because we're friends that I don't want him involved. Trust me, it's safer this way."

June didn't look convinced, but she didn't seem inclined to argue with him, either. After a moment of quiet that bordered on awkward, she clapped her hands together once. "Alright," she said. "We have one whole day to come up with a plan for you; let's make it count. And I hope you don't think I'm being shallow, but Byron had a particular suit that I'd like to give to you for the occasion; it was his favorite for clandestine meetings."

Relieved that she wasn't going to press the issue of telling Peter, Neal grinned as he followed her upstairs. "I do always say, 'dress to impress'," he said, only half joking. He wasn't about to admit it, but there was still a little boy inside of him that did want to impress Nicholas Caffrey.

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Peter and Elizabeth were only halfway through their Sunday morning breakfast when the agent's work phone rang. He made a face as he checked the time - almost ten o'clock - and the caller ID. It was Diana. With an apologetic glance at his wife, he answered the call. "You'd better have a good reason for interrupting my meal," he warned, doing his best not to sound irritable. Diana wouldn't have called without a reason.

"Caffrey's outside of his radius."

Peter's spoon clattered back into his bowl. His heart sank; so much for another quiet day with his wife. "For how long?" he demanded.

"Only a few minutes. He hasn't moved very far, either; just enough past the boundary to set alarms ringing. It's almost like he doesn't know he's doing it."

"No, this is Neal we're talking about," Peter shook his head, a useless gesture over the phone. "He knows."

"But why would he stay there if he knows he's out of bounds?"

Peter frowned thoughtfully. "Diana, do you remember the very first case we worked with Neal?"

"Yes. Why?"

"How did we catch the guy?"

"...We followed Neal into his hideout," she recalled, her voice rising.

"Exactly!" Peter praised. "He knows how to get our attention; my guess is that something is going down right where he's hanging out."

"What's the order, boss?"

"Scare up a team and take a ride down to his location. Not close enough to spook whoever he's with, but close enough to assist if needed. I'll be down at the office in five..." It was only then that he caught Elizabeth's raised eyebrow and crossed arms. "Um, Diana? I'm gonna have to meet you on location."

"Forget to talk to Elizabeth?"

He cut his eyes towards his wife. "Yeah."

"Understood. I'll head out right now and meet you there, alright?"

"Thank you." Peter hung up the phone quickly and turned to his wife. "Caffrey's outside of his radius," he explained with a nervous chuckle.

"I heard.

Peter cringed. "I've gotta go down and check it out... But it won't take long, I promise! An hour, maybe two at the most..."

"Go," Elizabeth sighed, waving her hands to shoo him off. "But if you take any longer than that, I'm leaving you for Jones. Got it?"

Peter grinned; if she was teasing him, she couldn't be too upset about the interruption. "Thanks, hon. I'll be back soon, I promise."

"Might as well bring Neal with you, if you don't have to arrest him," Elizabeth called after him as he headed out the door. "Tell him he owes me a bottle of wine for this!"

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Neal arrived nearly an hour early at the warehouse where he and his father had agreed to meet. He pushed up the cuff of his sleeve to check the antique Rolex on his wrist - a gift from June for the occasion - and frowned at the time displayed there. Nine o'clock. He sighed, tugged the cuff back into place with more force than necessary. This, he realized, was going to be a long wait.

Vibrating with nervous energy, he paced the length of the wide, empty room as far as his anklet would allow. He'd calculated his radius when he first received the tracking device, and he knew that his leash ended someplace in the middle of this concrete floor.

Counting to himself, Neal concentrated on making smooth, measured steps back and forth across the room, the whole time running words over in his head. He'd repeated the things that he was planning to say so many times that he was practically sick of them, and he experimented now with different phrases, new variations of the same sentiments. One after another, he discarded each new idea and returned to his original plan. For a moment, anyways. There were so many things that he wanted to say. So much that he could say, if only he had the time. But there would never be enough time in the world for all of this.

He had to stop thinking so hard; it was going to drive him insane before the man ever showed up. Neal stopped pacing and took a few deep, even breaths. He adjusted his cuffs again, re-buttoned his suit, and straightened his dark tie. Next, he removed his hat, considered it with narrowed eyes. He liked the hat since the beginning; it had become a part of him now, as much as his startling blue eyes or his pickpocket's hands. But it felt wrong to wear it for this, somehow. He knew that he looked younger with the hat off, more vulnerable; and he wanted his father to see that the child he'd abandoned had never really disappeared. With great care, he left the hat in a corner and resumed his pacing.

Hands running through his hair, Neal re-arranged his thoughts again.

A/N: Thank you for sticking with me so far. The third and possibly final part should be up in a few days! :D