Neal watched Mozzie and Scott at a distance as they were walking toward their meeting point. It really was a kid, twenty tops, about to be arrested by Peter any time soon.

"So, that really was Neal Caffrey at the party?" the kid said.

"In the infamous flesh."

"I knew I recognized him. So, you work for him?"

"Work with him," Moz corrected him. "Kind of like a mentor. He learned everything from me."

"So, then, how come I've never heard of you?"

"Exactly." Not everyone searched for fame a glory. And who was the best? The one the authorities never knew of, or the guy stealing so much it was hard to miss his existence.

Neal saw a face he recognized from Diana's file. Carlisle. He called Mozzie.

"You're being followed. Look to the southwest." He saw Moz turning the wrong way. "Your other southwest, Moz."

"You know, in my defense, I always carry a compass."

"It's Carlisle. You need to stall him."

Moz hung up and talked to Scott and then walked to an ATM machine. He was going to pull a Scrooge McDuck. Mozzie had found an unpatched security flaw in their firmware, a few months ago, which gave him admin access. It was a nice way to make big withdrawals. Or, as Mozzie used it for, making the machine spit out a vast amount of money, spraying it on the sidewalk, making people rush there.

Neal waited in the most likely place the kid would come running. And soon after, he did.

"Slow down," he said to him as he passed. Scott stopped and turned. Neal just kept his hands in his pockets and walked along by his side. "It's New York City. Once you get some distance, it's better to blend in."

"Sorry. I don't think clearly when people are trying to kill me." So Mozzie had told, or had he just been terrified?

"Never say you're sorry unless you're running a con."

"Whatever. Is the FBI here?"

"No." Neal pulled him aside. "But you should turn yourself in."

"You're Neal Caffrey. Are you really telling me there isn't another way?"

Neal wished there were. And knew there was. But… He saw Carlisle reaching the corner of the block.

"Get in here," he said and pushed him inside the shoe- and watch- repair shop they stopped outside. He took him as far back in the store as possible. He got himself a copy of a random key he did not use for anything, to be an ordinary customer. Carlisle was obviously not in the mood or with the resources to do a thorough search. Scott was smart enough to keep his mouth shut.

When they got out on the street twenty minutes later, he called Moz to let him know where they were and that all was fine.

"Are you aware that I work for the FBI?" Neal asked the kid.

"I guessed. Now I know. Why do you do it?"

"Do you know who that man was who chased you, that you ran from?"

"No, but he looked ready to kill me."

"He is. He already tried once."

The kid's eyes went wide.

"Wha… whe… The drink at the party? The one you pushed out of my hand."

"Yeah. I saved your life, and you stole a motorcycle as a thank you."

"I didn't know you saved my life. But what was I supposed to do? Stay when I learned the house was full of feds? It made it so much more fun to take the bike and go."

"You steal without doing your research, kid. You stole a bustier filled with stolen diamonds. It was a bad move, and now someone wants you dead. If you turn yourself in, you'll live."

"Maybe. But what happens when I get out? They'll know where to find me." The kid sounded desperate, and Neal did not blame him. "Neal, please…"

"What do you want me to do, kid? I can't make Carlisle go away."

"Where are we going, by the way?"

"Home to my place."

"You're not going to turn me over to the FBI?"

"I've not decided yet."

When he opened the door to his apartment, Sara and Mozzie were already there.

"Ah, I knew you would decide wisely," Moz grinned.

Neal saw that Sara would not call all this wise.

"Kid, relax. Drop your backpack and go out on the patio for a while, will you?"

Scott did so.

"You brought a wanted fugitive into your home," Sara said, hands on her hips.

"It wouldn't be the first time," Moz said in his 'defense.'

"Not helping," Neal told him.

"And Peter doesn't know he's here," Sara continued.

"What is she doing here?" Moz asked.

"I was here to surprise Neal with dinner."

"Surprise."

"Peter doesn't know he's here yet," Neal told Sara. "I'm still deciding what I'm gonna do with him."

"He's one of our own, Neal. We have to help him. It's part of the code. Besides, I kind of like him. He reminds me of a young—"

"Don't say it."

"...me."

"What do you think?" Neal asked Sara.

"Why are you asking her?"

"I think you should help him."

"Brilliant woman."

Sara glanced at Moz and clarified:

"I think you should help him get out of trouble and then convince him to turn himself in."

"Okay, that's absurd," Mozzie said. "Give him a chance to live a life, make his mark on the world."

"This is your chance to show him there's another way," Sara insisted.

"Well, I'm not exactly a role model."

"You're probably the closest thing he has."

Scott walked back in from the patio, drying off his false beard. It made him look younger and far more vulnerable.

"I need your help," he said with s sigh. "I never stole from anybody who didn't deserve it. Never hurt anyone. I figured you, of all people, would understand that."

Scott was disappointed, Neal understood that. He did not care if he made a young fan disappointed. He was ten years older than the kid and role models did what was the right thing to do.

He looked at Sara who encouraged him to go on. Mozzie, well, he knew what Mozzie thought.

"All right, let's focus on the first part," Neal said. "We need to figure out how to get Carlisle off your back. Take a seat, kid."

He guessed he would have to regret not calling Peter instead. Look at it from the positive side, he at least considered the option. It was progress.