Chapter 6

First thing in the morning, Neal walked into Peter's office.

"Peter, about the painting-"

"The one from yesterday's case?" Peter questioned, barely looking up from his computer.

"Yeah."

"Don't worry about it, the security team are tracking it down for us," Peter responded.

"Really?"

"Yeah, looks like you won't be needed for this one. And I'll handle an arrest when they locate the thief." Peter smiled like this was good news.

Neal felt something coil and squirm in his gut. Yes, he had come up to try and get Peter to pull out of the case since the CIA was involved but, he hadn't expected Peter to cut him out. He had done it so easily too, as if Neal had more to work on than cold cases, and worst of all, he had done it without talking to Neal first. He hadn't even suggested leaving the case to the security team the previous day.

Neal found himself wondering what he did wrong, only to recall Elizabeth getting kidnapped by Keller because he had a priceless treasure.

His decision had gotten her kidnapped. When he told them about what his asset had done, the CIA had placed two choices on the table: turn the treasure in for processing or use it to track and bug criminals. With the growing practice of paying for arms in priceless art, the Nazi treasure would have made a great way of tracking arms dealers, terrorists and the like.

He had picked option two, worried that turning the treasure in would somehow blow his cover to Peter and Mozzie. All he thought he had to do was place a few bugs on the paintings before Mozzie sold them and send his share of the money back to the CIA. But the manifest had complicated that plan; it really would have been nice to have known about that before he made his decision, and he was left trying keep his cover intact and Neal Caffrey in New York.

There was always a price to pay for bad decisions.

Chuck's eyes were swimming. His job was to look at image after image of people moving in, out and around the building where Amber Blackman lived, to scan the surveillance and see if he recognised or flashed on anything. It was tiresome and dull.

Especially when he was itching to know where his lovely wife had been the previous night.

"Whoa," he breathed as Sarah walked out of the bathroom dressed in a sky blue blouse and black pencil skirt. Oblivious to his admiration, she moved to stand before the mirror and work her hair into something that could pass for a bun. "What's the occasion?"

"I'm meeting someone for coffee," she responded, checking that everything was just-so.

"Who?"

"Hmm," she thought about what to say before saying it, "just another woman married to a spy. She wants to talk."

Chuck perked up at that; he loved meeting new spy couples!

"Really?"

Sarah smirked at the interest in his voice. She also knew how dull his current task was but, there was no one else who could do it. She walked over to where he was sitting and planted a kiss on his lips.

"We're meeting like two normal women," she said, "which means no husbands."

Chuck mused on that for a moment, slightly dazed by the kiss. There had been something different about that one, something light. It lacked the heavy weight which seemed to be pressing itself over their relationship lately.

"And before you go getting any ideas," Sarah added, "she might not be a spy but, she does know how to catch a tail. And her husband is a scary guy who doesn't want spies following his wife."

"You wouldn't let him hurt me," Chuck said pleasantly and with certainty.

"It'd be better if there was no reason for him to come after you in the first place," she responded on in a slightly scolding tone.

Chuck just nodded in response. He was used to people coming after to him by now and knew that sometimes it just happened without being his fault.

"Stay in the hotel room Chuck," she told him before she left. Chuck rolled his eyes in response, even though she couldn't see it, and turned back to the surveillance.

Neal knew that his days in the White Collar division were numbered. The result of his commutation hearing had already been decided. On that day, Neal Caffrey would be free and Bryce Larkin would get a new mission. But, leaving while Peter wasn't talking to him didn't feel right.

He moved silently down the rows of files, looking for the ones relevant to the current cold case Peter had placed on his desk for him to look at. Diana was also there, looking for something.

She thought she was alone, until he reached over and pulled a file from before her.

"Neal!" she cried, jumping back in fright.

He paused with a fleeting thought wondering what he had done now.

"Where did you come from?" she asked him, quickly recovering her cool.

"Peter's been wondering that for years," he quipped in response, knowing that the FBI didn't have anything on Neal Caffrey before his eighteenth birthday. It made him an enigma and a mystery, someone worthy of interest. "What would he think if I just told you?"

"Not what I meant," she said with a smile.

"I think I solved the case I've been working on," he said, "I just wanted to check a few things." He motioned to the folder in his hand.

She moved to leave but paused.

"Peter says that we're no longer working the painting case," she asked, "any idea why?"

The words felt like a stab to his gut. It made sense as Peter passed the case to the security firm but, why? He didn't know the security firm was CIA and so it was just a routine, slightly more stimulating than mortgage fraud, case to him. The only explanation he could come up with was that Peter didn't want them working it for some reason. Like, maybe because Neal Caffrey; the man who brought Keller into his life and had gotten his wife kidnapped, would be working with him. Maybe this was some kind of punishment.

"You okay?" Diana asked when he didn't response.

Neal tried to get rid of those thoughts. They weren't working that case, which was what he wanted, so it didn't matter why and it didn't matter if Peter didn't like him.

"Yeah," he responded. Except, it did matter. For some reason, what Peter thought of him was important.

What could he do to get his trust back?

Neal's phone rang moments later, like an answer from heaven.

"I flashed," Chuck reported, "I know who stole the painting."