Peter was not surprised to see Neal on the sidewalk. On the contrary, the kid's tracking data was the reason Peter got there in the first place.

He surprised Neal by coming from behind, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"Out for a stroll?" he asked, snatching the kid's umbrella. "Taking in the sights?"

"Peter—"

"Imagine my surprise when I checked your anklet and found out that you were right outside Carlisle's office."

"I can explain." I'm sure you can, Peter thought.

"Starting with Robin Hoodie. Is he in there?"

He had hoped that whatever plan Neal had been cooking it was to catch Scott, not to aid him. But this, knowing Carlise was just…

"I think it's better if I don't answer that," Neal answered.

So Robin Hoodie was in there, with his pet convict's help and blessings, most likely.

"Better for you or for me?"

"For Scott." Oh? How was it better for that brat? "Look, I've got a plan, okay? And part of that plan is contingent on you not knowing what it is."

Peter stared at the young con man. What was going on in that man's mind? What could he not tell? What loophole had he found now?

"I'm not the Sheriff of Nottingham," he said.

"Did I miss a conversation?" Neal did not know what Diana had told him in the van outside during the party for that motorcycle. She had asked if he was the Sheriff of Nottingham if they were hunting Robin Hoodie. For Peter, the sheriff in all adaptations of the story he had seen, was not a good guy.

"I'm not the bad guy," he clarified. "But Scott can't be allowed to run around like this. He's gonna get somebody hurt, starting with himself. I need to bring him in."

"I know," Neal assured him. "Give me an hour. After that, I think I can get him to turn himself in to you."

"You think?" He could not just stand there, hoping for the best.

"I know." He sounded convinced. Neal's phone pinged. "Look, I have to go." The kid gave him a pleading look that asked Peter to please let him finish what he started.

"I'll be waiting right here," Peter said. "When you come back, you better have him with you."

"Thank you."

He watched Neal disappear inside the office building. So, their suspect was inside that building. No matter Neal's competence in getting Scott to hand himself over, Peter was not going to risk that he got away.

He called Jones.

"I know where Robin Hoodie is right now and maybe an hour forward. I need a team to secure the perimeter around an office building. Just in case." He gave the address.

"Sure, Peter, we'll get there right away."

"Thanks, Jones. I appreciate the backup. No need to rush here. I'm not expecting any...trouble." Trouble was just what he saw. Carlisle was returning, and Peter was sure it was not part of Neal's plan. "On second thought, go ahead and rush."

"Got that, Peter. That address it's Carlisle's office building, right?"

"Yeah."

Peter looked at Carlisle walking inside. He took a deep breath. If he aided Neal without breaking the law, it was no harm done. He followed inside.

"Mr. Carlisle!" The man stopped and turned. Peter flashed his badge. "I have a few follow-up questions from our meeting the other day."

"Can it wait?"

"No. It can't."

The man sighed and then smiled.

"Of course. Come, we'll go into my office."

"Down here is fine."

"But the whiskey's upstairs. I insist." The man chuckled, and Peter chuckled with him. And he could come up with no excuse not to follow the man upstairs.

"And I insist right here is fine." All he could do was play a stubborn, annoying federal agent.

"Agent Burke, right?"

"Right."

"Unless I'm under arrest, I'll answer your questions in my office." Not a hint of a smile. Peter met his eyes. There was no way out now.

"After you." If Scott and Neal were up there, at least he could save them from Carlisle's wrath.

The elevator seemed to come all too fast.

They did not say anything on the way up. They stepped out of the elevator, and Carlisle walked ahead inside his office.

"Now, what is it you wanted to discuss?"

Peter scanned the room for any signs of the kid and the brat.

"I wanted to talk to you about that diamond heist."

Carlisle walked straight to the bar and got himself a drink.

"Thought this was about some kid running around robbing people."

What had they been up to? Then Peter saw the safe, and he understood it all. He could not help smiling all over his face.

"It was," he said. "But it got me into thinking what could possibly be in this monster safe of yours."

"I guess you'll never know."

"You're right. Because it's uncrackable, right?"

"Completely."

Peter brought out a pen and put it in the crack between the door of the safe and its frame, swinging the door open. And there was the bustier with diamonds and all. Neal had made Scott return it to get his target off his back. And to bust another camel.

Carlisle's face was absolutely priceless.

"You must have left it open by accident, then."

"That's impossible."

"Those look like the diamonds I was talking about. You're under arrest, Mr. Carlisle."

The man had not quite landed yet.

"Those— those aren't mine." He hasted back to his desk, taking a deep sip from his drink.

"Oh, you're alleging that a thief broke into your office to crack an uncrackable safe to give you millions of dollars in diamonds?" Carlisle glared at him and placed his glass on the desk. "Hands in the air."

"All right. All right. Okay." But he only got one hand in the air. The other crept down under the desk'

"Unh-unh-unh," Jones warned him, coming up from the side with a drawn gun. "I wouldn't do that if I were you." Carlisle gave up and raised both hands in surrender. "Sorry I'm late. Damn, that's a hell of a view."

Peter looked out too, and then smiled at his crook.

"Oh. You're gonna miss this one."

By sheer luck, they had not run into Jones and his team on the way down. They had heard him in time and had had the time to hide. They exited the building at last.

"I would like to go put on something a little less breezy," Sara said.

"Yes," Neal agreed and stopped by her side for a quick kiss.

"Go talk to him," she said, and their lips met for a second before she hurried away.

"Thank you."

Scott was waiting for him. They looked at each other.

"So, what are you gonna do now?" he asked.

"Oh, come on. You didn't really think I was gonna turn myself in, did you?"

"I was hoping you would."

"Would you have when you were my age?"

"No, I wouldn't have." They both chuckled, but Neal wanted to keep the focus. "But this isn't about me. It's about Peter Burke. He's the smartest man I've ever known. He caught me, and he will catch you. Only question is when."

"Nobody's that good."

"He is, Scott. If you turn yourself in now, he'll make you a deal. It's the best deal you're ever gonna get." The kid was way too young and inexperienced to understand, he saw that. "You know what? Keep running. Always looking over your shoulder, never slowing down long enough to share your life with anyone. Because you know that the second you do, that is when he will catch you. Let me help you, Scott."

The kid looked at him. It was hard to tell what he thought. But his eyes slid over his shoulder towards the front doors of the building.

Neal turned and saw Jones leading Carlise out in cuffs with Peter close behind. Then Neal realized that Scott was gone.

He just wanted to scream, to cry, anything!

Peter saw him.

"Where's Scott?"

Neal did not answer. He could feel Peter's eyes on his back as he took in the situation and searched with his eyes around after the kid.

"Peter… I'm…"

What did he see in his handler's eyes? Compassion? Peter pat him on the shoulder.

"Let's go back to the office."

"Can I walk back?"

"Sure. Want company?" Peter asked. "I ask as a friend," he added.

"No. I… I need a bit of time on my own."

Peter saw Neal return to the office. He walked right up to Peter's office. The kid looked miserable.

"Any sign of Scott?" Neal asked.

"Nothing. He's gone completely to ground."

"I screwed up."

"Yes, you did," Peter said, nodding. Those were the facts, pure and simple. "But you helped get Carlisle off the streets. That's a good win."

Neal jammed his hands in his pockets. The praise did little to change the kid's mood.

"I actually thought I was getting through to him."

Peter chuckled a little.

"Disappointing, isn't it?"

"Mm."

"You think they're listening, and then they go off and do the opposite of what you say." Peter sipped his coffee.

"Now he could be anywhere."

"He really could," Peter sighed. Then he saw something and almost dropped his mug. Neal turned his head too. And up the stairs from the bullpen came Robin Hoodie led by Jones. "But he's not." Peter smiled. This was a good day.

He rose and left the office with Neal. In cuffs, it was hard to look cool, but Scott did his best.

"He said he'd only turn himself in to you," Jones said and shoved Scott a bit forward in his direction before leaving.

The younger kid glanced at Neal and then looked him up and down.

"So... This is the guy who caught you?"

"Believe it or not, yeah," the older kid answered.

"Glad you're here," Peter said. "You still have the pieces you stole?"

"Depends. Which pieces do you know about?"

Peter glanced at Neal, who smiled. Peter chuckled.

"The more you cooperate, the better deal I can get you," Peter said. "You're gonna have to serve some time."

Peter watched him consider this.

"I know," he mumbled, less cool.

"Can I, um..." Neal asked, gesturing towards Scott.

"Yeah." Peter left the two and returned to his office. It was not that he did not hear what they said from there, but it was as much as he could give them.

"So, what made you decide to come in?" Neal asked Scott. The young kid shrugged.

"Because stealing stupid things from rich people was already getting boring," he grinned, and the two shared a smile. "Or because what you said got to me. Whichever makes you feel better. Thanks for the help."

He held out a hand with the other cuff dangling open. Neal did not look overly impressed, and Peter just sighed.

"Anytime," Neal said and shook his hand.

Peter remembered when he had driven Neal to detention after their long questioning session how he much more eloquent had shown him the same skill. This was too much bragging.

"Jones, could you cuff him again?" Peter said, coming out from his office.

"Real cute," Jones huffed, not amused. "Let's try it again." Jones locked the cuffs again. He led the young criminal away. "Unless you want me to cuff you on the back, you stop doing that, understand?"

He and his pet convict watched them leave.

"Give him some time," Neal said. "People don't change overnight."

"Believe me, I know. I work with living proof of it." He put an arm across Neal's shoulders. "But they do change." The kid needed to know that, to be reminded that his handler saw it.

"You're not the Sheriff of Nottingham."

"I know," Peter confirmed. "I'm thinking more King Richard the Lionheart."

"I'll go with that."

Peter smiled. He felt rather proud of himself. Neal had done so much good this day, and he would not be prouder if it were his own son.

"Good."

Neal sat on his bed and looked at his new passport.

"Victor Moreau," he said, tasting the name. He had to live with it. Many got names they did not like, but they grew in to it. "Vic," he tried. "Vic Moreau." He rose to look into the mirror. "Moreau. Victor Moreau. Nice to meet you."

There was a knock on the door.

"Just a second." He pulled at the painting by his bed, which hid a secret compartment, and put the passport there.

Sara did not wait. She opened the door when he barely got the painting closed.

"Surprised?" she asked.

"Happily."

"It looks like I caught you mid-something."

"I was just about to take a shower." He took the towel.

"Oh. Is that a statement or an invitation?" They kissed.

"Yes. Yes," he answered the question.

"I'll meet you in a sec."

"All right."

He walked to the shower. He really loved this woman. How could he leave her? There had to be a way. There always was another way.