Sara couldn't afford a cab, and Neal was not allowed to use them, so they picked up the belongings she had at the hotel, checked out, and started to walk.

"It's not that I'll be really poor," she said. "I have some treasures tucked away."

"Like art from sunken Nazi U-boat?"

She giggled.

"No. Just a little jewelry. I had most of my money on the bank. And I really like my jewelry. I don't want to sell them. And it feels so unfair! I have worked hard for them. I've earned the right to have some expensive items in my life."

Neal nodded. Sara was panicking, seeing all her hardly-earned backup plan and safety net disappear.

"Your world has turned upside down," Neal said, repeating Peter's words to him when he got arrested. "It's as frightening as falling off a cliff. You'll find your footing again."

"Neal, I'm not really in the mood for any 'Eat, Pray, Love' now, alright?"

"Alright."

"Can't you tell me some story? Something that makes me forget all this. And that this box is damn heavy."

"Shall I take it?"

"No, no, I'll manage; just tell me something."

"Like?"

"Like when you were arrested the first time."

"It was like falling down a cliff, diving into the unknown, with little options to control any of it."

She glanced at him.

"I guess you found your footing again."

"I did. Peter helped me."

Neal wondered if she would be asking more along that line.

"Did you know that I met Peter for the first time when he chased you?"

"No. You did?"

"He called Stirling Bosch concerning a certain Raphael, and it was my case, so I met him at his office. He wanted to know if I had any leads, which I didn't at the time, I must admit. He pointed at the board with your photo in the middle and said that he suspected that that guy might be the one who stole it. Gave me the name of 'Neal Caffrey' because he figured that was your real name." Neal chuckled at this. "Neal Caffrey is your real name?" she asked.

"It is my real name."

"So Neal is the name your mother gave you?"

"I don't know if it was my mom or my dad who came up with it, but it's the name they reported in for me officially, yes."

"Then, why can't I find anything on you before you're eighteen?"

"You've been checking up on me?"

"Not recently." She shrugged a little and smiled, embarrassed. "But I chased a certain Raphael."

Neal considered if and what to tell about that. He wanted Sara to know, but somehow, he felt he owed Peter to tell him first.

"Maybe I'll tell you the story another day. What did Peter say about me?"

She smiled.

"He was certain that he would catch you. And he was impressed by what you had done in such a short time."

"He was?" Neal felt as if Raphael himself had seen his artwork and took notice.

"Yeah," Sara nodded and chuckled. "Me too. Why shouldn't we?" Neal was humble enough not to answer that. "What's it like to be cuffed?" He glanced at her and smiled. She must know. Sara was cute when she blushed. "I meant on the back. For real."

"Uncomfortable. And you're dependent on people around you if you stumble."

"Like a cop."

"Or a fed. Or a prison guard."

"Were you cuffed in prison, too?"

"It happened."

"You don't want to talk about it?"

Neal shrugged.

"It's part of my life. If I can't share it with you, I don't see who I should share it with."

"With Peter?"

"He knows more about these things to start with. It's not the same thing. Did you know they try every way they have to restrain someone in their training as agents?"

"No, do they? So Peter has tried what it's like to be cuffed?"

"So he says."

They had reached June's house.

"It's amazing these houses are still around, considering all the skyscrapers," Sara mused. Neal could do nothing but agree.

"Sorry," Neal said, helping Sara carry her stuff up the stairs. "The place is a little bit of a mess."

He pushed the door open.

"Neal, what would you estimate the value of—"

"Moz." He was sitting with his back to the door, with the screen of the treasure in clear display. Something Neal guessed Moz would never do again.

"Oh! Sara." The lid was closed within the blink of an eye. "Hello. Welcome."

"I hope we didn't interrupt you," she said.

"I was, um...looking at porn." Neal gave Mozzie a glare for that reply.

"At the dining room table?" Sara asked. "Of someone else's home?"

"Well, you live your life. And... I see now you're living in mine. I wasn't informed you were moving in."

Because you're not living here, Moz, Neal was about to say but changed his mind.

"She's not moving in. You heard about the Manhattan Mutual hack?"

"Of course. It was a masterstroke. Whoever's behind that shredded paper mask is a bona fide genius."

"Thank you, Moz. Sara got cleaned out. She's staying here until the money's recovered."

"Oh, so we have a roommate."

"'We'?" Sara asked. "I was unaware it was a package deal."

"It's..." Neal started, but it all turned very awkward.

"I'm gonna put some things away," Sara said and picked up two of her bags. "You two can chat." She walked to the back room.

"Porn? Really?"

"I panicked."

"I couldn't put her out on the street."

"Neal, this is hardly the time to revitalize chivalry," Mozzie almost yelled. "What about the Four Seasons?"

"It's a little out of my price range."

"When we get to sell our treasure, there will be countries in your price range. We have secrets here." Yeah, on a computer, with a password. A password Sara had no reason to try and break.

"All right, relax. As soon as we catch this guy, everything will get back to normal."

"Did you miss me?" Sara asked, returning to the room.

"Uhm, Sara, Neal and I were discussing your predicament. And I would like to offer my assistance."

"So, you want to get rid of me."

"Po-tay-to, po-tah-to."

Neal was about to object. He did not want to get rid of her. And not like this.

"Let's do it," she said. "Let's solve the case." She sat down by the table.

Mozzie looked at him.

"All right," he agreed. No matter what, that was what both Sara and Mozzie wanted. "The thief parked the take in a Swiss bank under an alias: Cameron Duponte."

"Duponte is a specter," Sara said. "The FBI barely knows where to start."

"Oh, that's where we have an advantage over the feds," Moz said. "We have a keen grasp of the criminal mind. Okay, say I've stolen an incalculable fortune and secreted it away," he continued and placed a hand on the laptop. "And every few hours, I go online to ogle my prize."

"Let's say you do that," Neal said and glared at Mozzie, and then sent a quick look at the laptop and then at Sara. Mozzie stared back, not getting it at first. Naturally, Sara picked up on the silence and what was not said between them. Mozzie should worry more about himself than about whether or not Neal would expose anything.

Mozzie removed his hand to the back of the chair instead.

"What's the worst thing I could see?" he asked.

"The treasure disappearing."

"Right. Now, if Uncle Sam can't get at Duponte's account, who can?"

Neal saw the picture.

"Duponte."

"But he doesn't exist," Sara objected.

"Not yet," Moz agreed.

"We can create him," Neal said and felt that tingle of excitement that made him enjoy being a con-man.

"We can go into a local branch of his bank and pretend to be Duponte," Moz said.

"They'll have security questions."

"That's just a hiccup," Moz shrugged. "We could trade his data for our data."

"Once we get control of the account..."

"We start spending," his friend ended the sentence.

"The thief has to come out of hiding to stop us or watch his money vanish."

"So..." Sara raised her hand. Chuckled. "We're talking about international bank fraud..."

"Well..."

"...Federal grand larceny," she continued, "synthetic identity theft—"

"Don't forget conspiracy," Mozzie added, who did not see the issue Sara was pointing at.

"Okay. All in hopes of convincing some psycho to come after us?"

"Concisely stated," Moz smiled.

"Look, you said if we don't catch him soon, the money's gone," Neal said. He knew that this was wrong if you asked Peter, but…

"Okay, it could work," Sara nodded.

"It will work." That Mozzie was sure of. Yeah, there was no reason why it shouldn't work.

"Then there's really only one question," he smiled towards Sara. "How are we going to spend a hundred million dollars?"