Chapter 9

Peter requested the rest of the day off for him and Neal and then marched them all out of the building. Sarah and Chuck took a taxi while he drove El and Neal.

The drive would have been silent, if it wasn't for El.

"So, Neal, when did you join the CIA?" she asked as soon as Peter pulled out onto the road.

"Hon," Peter said in a warning tone.

"What?" she responded, innocently, "I already know so, why can't I ask?"

"I'll answer if you tell me how you two met," Neal said from the passenger seat. Peter hadn't wanted him sitting behind them and, in his words, wanted him where he could see him.

"You already know that," Peter responded in a grumble, "and I'm not telling it again."

Neal shot him a glare and then turned back to El. She was less likely to lie to him, considering she wasn't a trained spy.

"He's right. Peter didn't tell me he was CIA until we were married," she said.

"Fine," Neal said with a theatrical sigh. He decided to believe them. Besides, he knew as soon as he answered her question, they would both have more. "I was recruited during my junior year at Stanford."

Neal and El jolted forward as Peter slammed on the breaks, trying to avoid hitting the stopped car in front of them.

"Careful!" Neal warned in fear.

"What?" he questioned, "you went to Stanford?"

Neal smirked. Just as he thought, Peter had more questions.

"And here I thought you knew everything about me," he taunted. It was somewhat of a nasty thing to say but, he couldn't help it. Peter didn't trust him, Peter lied to him and he had to go along with whatever he said in order to keep cover.

"I know everything about Neal Caffrey," Peter responded, something unidentifiable in his voice, "and next-to-nothing about Bryce Larkin."

From the back seat, El glanced between them. Something had changed. She didn't know what or if it was a good thing but, for the first time since the treasure and Keller, they were actually talking about themselves. Sharing.

"What was it like at Stanford?" she asked, hoping that Neal would be willing to share that.

"I assume it was like college," Neal responded cheekily, "but it was fun, for a time." And then he frowned, a shadow crossing his face.

"Okay," Peter said, sensing the need for a change of subject, "so the painting stolen is one of yours, ironically enough."

"That's what happens when you paint to hide government secrets," Neal pointed out. He was still proud of the things he had pulled off as Neal Caffrey, the impossible and unbelievable. Besides, he had only taken things, not lives, and so the end justified the means.

"Tell me more," El prodded as this was interesting. She wondered if Neal would be more willing to share the spy life than Peter was. If she could get him to watch over Peter, in the FBI and the CIA, then maybe she could rest easier at night.

"Can't. It's confidential stuff," Neal responded before changing the subject to the people of the White Collar office. He jokingly theorised which ones might also be spies, drawing Peter and El into the conversation in order to keep them from asking any questions about his past.

Peter led them into the house and into the basement. Sarah clutched at her gun nervously while Chuck stayed close to her. El just smiled and Bryce watched everything with veiled curiosity.

Peter pressed his hand to a plank in the wall and, a moment later, it slid up.

"A secret door," Chuck squealed. Like Chuck, Bryce was highly impressed although he didn't show it.

"I'm supposed to be stationed here for a long time," Peter explained as they walked through a short, metal tunnel. "So, they set me up with a base, named 'Homestead'."

"You called a secret base 'Homestead'?" Bryce said disapprovingly in the same way Neal insulted Peter's suit and ties.

"What did you call yours?" Peter asked, turning to face him. Bryce's lips twitched.

"I don't have one," he grumbled, "they didn't think I'd be here long enough and then they said that I proved I would be okay without one until commutation."

"Peter's fine with sharing," El said, placing a hand on his shoulder while Peter made disapproving squeaks. This was his secret base! And it was really only one room.

It was an octagon-shaped conference room with a single computer terminal and screen, along with a table just big enough to seat them all and an armoury decorating the back wall.

"Wow," Chuck said in praise, "think I could get one of these?"

"You already have Castle," Bryce reminded him, "if anyone here's getting a base, it's me."

"And what would you tell Mozzie?" El asked him, effectively giving him pause.

"Mozzie wouldn't know."

"Now, you can't guarantee that," Peter said, sitting down.

Bryce was silent for a moment, considering this.

"Fine. I'll just use your base then."

Peter gave him a scolding frown which he ignored. If either of them closed their eyes, they could almost imagine they were back in the FBI conference room, talking over the latest case. Really, the feelings of familiarity were enough for Bryce to overcome the awkwardness of being under the Burke's house in a CIA base and for Peter to overcome the feeling of having Neal sitting across from him in his CIA base.

Peter's scolding frown turned to a curious one. Until know, he hadn't thought of adding Bryce Larkin, CIA agent, to the list of things he knew about Neal Caffrey. But, he found himself adding it.

Neal Caffrey is also Bryce Larkin, CIA agent.

Bryce thought he was used to a life where everyone hid under assumed names. He just never thought Peter Burke, FBI, would be one of them. Let alone that he was Kieran Ryker, Sarah's old handler.

Small world.

Earlier he felt betrayed, now the words 'small world' seemed to sum it up nicely. He was okay with it.

"So, what secret does the painting hold?" El asked him with rapt attention.

A smirk danced over his lips.

"Wait, hon, didn't you already suggest that it was connected to the Intersect?" Peter commented.

El looked over at him and held his gaze as she explained, as if she was talking to a child;

"I did, but now I can actually ask. So, no need for guessing."

"What do you mean, 'connected to the Intersect'?" Bryce questioned, glancing at Chuck who shrugged. It was the first time he was hearing this.

The painting had nothing to do with the Intersect.

"We assumed that you hid something related to the Intersect in the painting, since you did send it to Chuck," Sarah said.

"The painting leads to-"

"Chuck!"

"Where Bryce stores the stuff Neal Caffrey steals," Chuck continued, Bryce's cry not enough to sway him from explaining.

"Allegedly! Allegedly!" Bryce chanted, glancing over at Peter. Whether he was also CIA or not, Neal didn't give up information to the FBI easily.

"Sorry," Chuck said and the repeated it all again with the word 'allegedly' in-between. Bryce didn't miss the way El's and Peter's lips twitched into smiles. Meanwhile, he was mortified.

"Alright," Peter said, holding up a hand to stop anyone else from interrupting. "So, our thief is either after Neal's stash or believes the painting has something to do with the Intersect."

"We came up with the theory that they're running out of time," Bryce pointed out, motioning between himself and Chuck. Peter cocked an eyebrow, silently questioning 'why' and Bryce explained, "Neal Caffrey's commutation is coming up. After that, I'm back in the worldwide spy game."

"I flashed on one Sidney Ward," Chuck said. They took a few moments to check into Ward's file, during which El decided to go back upstairs, and quietly ponder their next move.

Bryce started fiddling with his hat, twirling it unconsciously as he thought. He could use Mozzie to contact Sidney Ward but, he didn't want to use Mozzie for this. It was too close to his spy identity for his comfort. Jimmy the Snitch wasn't a good choice either, no one told him any good information unless they were a fed looking to trap a criminal.

His hands stilled and he pondered those words; 'trap a criminal'.

They didn't know whether Sidney wanted Neal's stash or the Intersect but they did know that he wanted the painting.

"But, he already has the painting," Chuck pointed out.

Bryce smirked and, across the table, Peter found himself mirroring it.

Peter knew that look as Neal's, 'I have a plan', look.