Past Haunts: Chapter 17

I too think that El would be more dangerous to deal with than Peter right now:) Imagine her going all mother bear on him :) Mmmmm, happy thoughts:)

Ok, so what I said in the last chaps A/N still and always stands. Not ok for anyone to go through anything like this...

Enjoy:)

Warnings: -_- really guys? you should know the warnings by now...

Disclaimer: I don't own white collar, just this plot line and OC. *sigh*

Tailing, Plans, Phone Calls

Mozzie was currently following a certain scumbag around New York city. As soon as he had left the Burke's home he went to Thursday, his favorite, to come up with a plan. He couldn't simply sit here, and if he knew Frank, he knew the disgusting excuse for a human being was planning something. So the next day, Mozzie went all out spy and tailed for all he was worth. Frank at first just seemed to be wandering, as though he knew he was being followed, or expected to be at least.

The man went around to, seemingly, sight see, but he finally came to his destination. Mozzie full on hit the brakes, nearly bumping into the people walking right behind him. Frank had stopped outside of the Bureau! And as a seasoned, (not old, well seasoned), con, Moz could tell when someone was casing a target. What he didn't see, however, was the slimey smile that crawled its way across Frank Smithson's face. Soon. He'll pay. Soon.

To say that Neal was dumbfounded was an understatement. His day went from horrible to overwhelmingly incredible all in a matter of hours. Once he had extracted himself from the Burkes, he had to convince them that he really needed too get back to work on the Degas. Unsurprisingly, El and Peter stayed really close to him the entire time, and I mean really close. El was back in the stool she was sitting on the other night, but this time it was considerably closer. Peter was 'relaxing' in his least favorite arm chair watching the game, but they all knew he was watching Neal. The con appreciated the gesture, but it was making him a bit uncomfortable.

"Um... Peter, El, you know I'm okay, right? You can do what you want; you don't have to watch over me like a hawk." He said all of this without turning around, and yet he could see them flush slightly and release some of the tension in their shoulders. El came up behind him and rubbed his shoulders lightly.

"Well, Sweetie, I guess you're right. I'll be upstairs napping, but don't be afraid to wake me if you need anything." He turned and flashed her a genuine smile.

"Thanks again, El. For everything." She couldn't resist, and soon Neal was wrapped up in her strong arms. This time though he was chuckling instead of having an emotional breakdown.

"El, let the kid breathe! He still has work to do!" Neal held in a full out laugh, when he heard Elizabeth snort at her husband.

"I don't see you doing anything important, Mr. FBI Agent." Peter had no response but to imitate a fish. "That's what I thought. Don't let him bully you, Neal. You come get me, if he does." Neal glanced back at Peter's aquatic life impression and bit his cheek to keep from laughing again.

"Will, do Mrs. Burke."

When Elizabeth reached their bedroom and shut the door, Peter walked up to stand behind Neal. The forger had dome a significant amount of work and was nearing the finishing touches before the aging process. (A/N: had to make him super speedy painter so he could be done in the time frame I set; besides he get forgeries done in one night on the show, this can't be that unrealistic in that regard) Peter would never admit it, but Neal was a brilliant artist, and his work blew him away. He would never claim the title of art connoisseur, but he could certainly appreciate good work when he saw it. The agent sighed and checked his watch.

"Neal, I have to make some phone calls, but I'm gonna be right upstairs, alright?" Neal completely turned to face Peter and pointed at him with his paint brush.

"Peter, I am fine. You can leave me alone for a few minutes, and I can assure you I won't have another mental breakdown. Do what you have to do, or need I remind you I am not a five year old?" Peter raised his hands in surrender and backed off to call the office and check on their progress. As he left, Neal let himself escape for a while into his own work.

Peter spends way too much of his time on his phone. Neal shook his head as he saw the clock said forty-five minutes had passed. They must have had some sort of complication. Either that or they found something really, really interesting. A vibration against his thigh jolted Neal from his wandering minds musings. He had been about to plug in El's hair dryer ( A/N: Let's get something straight. I don't know how to forge paintings. Well! Now that that's out of the way...Enjoy) , so he quickly set it down and grabbed his phone, before he missed the call. He really hoped it wasn't Alex calling about a botched job; she was the last thing Neal needed right then.

"Hello?" There was silence on the other end, almost to the point where Neal was going to hang up. Then it felt like a bucket of ice water was dumped on him.

"Matty, you didn't pick up last time I called. I thought I was going to have to come over there and check on you and your little FBI pet." He couldn't breathe. How the hell could he have forgotten about the horrible man on the other end of the line? Oh right, probably because of the emotional upheaval of feeling what it's like to have a family again after years of Frank Smithson's fists. Neal snapped out of it when he heard a growl come from the other man.

"Answer the question, Matty!" Wait, what? Neal shook his head; he had to focus to have a conversation with his enraged uncle. Just hearing his voice brought his stuttering back up.

"I-I'm sorry... what qu-question?" His voice quivered slightly, then he began to tremble when another growl crawled over the wires toward him.

"I asked, you retard, what you had been doing over at the FBI's house. Obviously, you've been having too much fun, if you're forgetting to answer your phone. Do I have to come over there and straighten things out for you?" Neal clenched his eyes shut at the images that assaulted him. He would be a bloodied pulp on Elizabeth's kitchen floor. He vaguely heard the sound of approaching feet, but at the moment couldn't place it.

"N-no, Sir. You d-don't. I've be-en working on the c-case. With P-Peter, Sir." There was a incredulous huff.

"Yeah. I'm sure that's what you've been doing. You don't really think he keeps your pretty face around, because he thinks you're smart, or he likes you, do you?" Neal was starting to feel nauseous. What Frank was implying... "Now, shut up, and actually listen, Matty. You will finish up this case as fast as you can, then get your lazy butt back over here. You have a lot to catch up on." Click. Just like that. Just like that, and he was back in hell. He held his head in his shaking hands and tried to breathe. When he did open his sapphire eyes again, it was to find Peter staring at him, looking livid.

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And you guys already know 'bout my offer to do prompts. :)