Neal knew he was in trouble. Peter emphasized that by taking him to a hearing room. The same room Peter had questioned him in after his first arrest six and a half years ago. He wondered if his handler remembered. As an FBI agent, he questioned suspects in this room all the time.

"Sit down." Neal did, and Peter turned on the equipment. Neal got a silent stare across the table, Peter holding his watch, the one he had turned off when he was not supposed to. "Why did you run? Talk."

"Keller escaped. I went after him."

"You had a dozen federal agents at your side. Why did you cut your audio feed and your GPS? What did Keller want with you?"

"You were right. He thought I had the treasure. I led him to the palace, the kind of place he'd believe I'd hide it, I turned on the GPS so you could follow me—"

"After you escaped," Peter pointed out.

"Otherwise you would have shown up before I got there," Neal returned. "Keller would have fled. Peter, it worked. We had him."

Peter was silent, letting it sink in. He nodded.

"Until she took a shot at him."

"I don't know why she did that." That was the only part of the story where he did not need to use another perspective on things. Peter knew, though.

"Maybe because someone put a six million bounty out on Keller."

"Six million?"

"I guess we're not the only ones who want him."

"Guess not."

Peter sighed and rose.

"Bring her in," he said, with a glance at the observer's window. "Give me your foot." Neal pushed his chair back and rose. He put his left foot on the edge of the seat as he put his suit jacket on. Peter put the anklet on. "You can go."

Outside the hearing room, he met with Raquel and Diana. For being a shooter, Diana had been surprisingly liberal, not cuffing her.

"You had me, Caffrey," Raquel said.

"Look, Peter's a good agent. He wants Keller more than you do."

"That bastard took my scarab."

Not entirely true. He thumbed it in his pocket. He sent Raquel a smile that puzzled her. Then she got it and smiled back. The next thing he knew was her hand grabbing his neck, pulling him into a kiss.

He was glad he happened to have the scarab in his right pocket so he could pass it to her pocket where nobody was watching.

She let go of him. He watched a strong, independent woman.

"See you around, Raquel."

Peter took his pet convict to a hearing room. The kid had formally run, and he could not just overlook this. He needed to make it formal.

"Sit down."

Peter turned on the equipment. How long has it been since the first time? More than six years. Was the kid any wiser? "Why did you run? Talk."

"Keller escaped. I went after him." A simple and truthful answer, but:

"You had a dozen federal agents at your side." The man had no reason for doing what he did as Peter saw it. "Why did you cut your audio feed and your GPS? What did Keller want with you?"

"You were right. He thought I had the treasure," Neal said. "I led him to the palace, the kind of place he'd believe I'd hide it, I turned on the GPS so you could follow me—"

"After you escaped," Peter pointed out.

"Otherwise, you would have shown up before I got there. Keller would have fled. Peter, it worked," the kid insisted. "We had him."

What Neal has done was typical for him. And the kid was right; it had worked.

"Until she took a shot at him."

"I don't know why she did that."

"Maybe because someone put a six million bounty out on Keller."

"Six million?"

"I guess we're not the only ones who want him."

"Guess not."

For once Peter figured that Neal had told him the whole truth. He sighed and rose.

"Bring her in," he said to the observer's window. "Give me your foot." Why did he never feel comfortable with putting that thing on Neal? He was fully aware that the man was a criminal. "You can go."

Outside the hearing room came Diana with Raquel. Neal met them in the doorway.

"You had me, Caffrey," he heard Raquel say to the kid.

"Look, Peter's a good agent," the kid told her. "He wants Keller more than you do."

"That bastard took my scarab."

Peter rolled his eyes. Then he stared at the two of them kissing. What was going on? She was kissing him, why? After, they looked at each other as if they made love!

"See you around, Raquel," the kid said and continued down the corridor. When he met Peter's eyes through the glass wall, he just made a foolish grin and shrugged as if he didn't get it either.

Raquel waited in front of them and Peter got his bearings.

"Sit down."

Neal barely got to his desk before Sara walked out of the elevator and into the office.

"Sara. What are you doing here?"

"Peter called me in."

"Oh." He glanced in the direction of Peter's room, but he was still questioning Raquel, of course.

"To make a statement about my meeting with Keller," Sara clarified. Neal did not like that his first thought was that they would talk about the treasure.

"I'm glad you're safe."

"I had a long talk with Mozzie. Your secret's safe with me, Neal."

He was glad to hear it, but it sounded like a final goodbye.

"I hope you don't forget everything between us."

"Well, no. Not everything," she smiled. "I won't forget about that Raphael you stole."

Neal grinned.

"Allegedly."

Jones turned up by his side.

"Miss Ellis, glad you could come."

"Jones, you know you can call Sara."

"Sara. Come, let's go to the conference room and get that statement done."

Peter read Sara's statement later. El rang.

"Hello, hon," he answered.

"Hello, hon. Will you be home for dinner?"

He stared down into the statement.

"No, I'm sorry."

"It's alright."

"Can you help me explain something to me?" he asked on an impulse. "I'm reading Sara Ellis' statement of her meeting with… a bad guy. A man presenting himself as Agent Sloan from Interpol. According to her, he said something like, 'We've been following Mr. Caffrey ever since we learned of the suspicious events surrounding Vincent Adler's death. The fire and the sub, that's public knowledge, but Neal Caffrey's extravagant lifestyle while serving time is something we think you can help shed some light on.'"

"So this guy thinks that Neal has the treasure and tries to find it through Sara?"

"Yeah."

"But Neal doesn't have any extravagant lifestyle, does he?"

"Compared to what he should have if he only lived on what the FBI pays him, yes, he does have an extravagant lifestyle."

"Has it changed since the sub?"

"No." That he was sure of. "But he walked around with Sara and spent a lot of borrowed money to bring out another bad guy not long ago."

"How come he can afford it in the first place?" El sidetracked.

"He moved into a home with a fully stocked wardrobe. He managed to get clothing funded by the FBI for an undercover job, meaning he just changed the colors of his shirts." El giggled. "You know Neal."

"Yeah, I know Neal."

"He bought a bakery, so he had hidden assets, and if I'm not mistaken, he still earns money from it."

"Oh, he does. I use that bakery all the time for all kinds of events."

Peter wondered for a second if this in any way could be troublesome for them. He had to deal with that later.

"Well, anyway, what bothers me with this statement is…"

"Yes?"

"You go for the former girlfriend to get some clues to a hidden treasure. You corner her and make sure that she thinks that Neal and herself will go to prison unless she gives him something as proof of her cooperating. And she gives him something about that time she and Neal were spending money, useless information."

"That's good, isn't it?"

"Sure, but if she had nothing to hide, why give him anything at all?"

She was silent for a moment. He could almost hear her smiling.

"Oh, honey, you have no idea what you do to protect those you care for when they are threatened."

So, there were still feelings between Sara and Neal? Or did she care for him even though she left him?

"Is it as simple as that?"

"It could be. But if you think that Neal has the treasure and Sara knows about it, why don't you ask her?"

Yeah, he could. He should, really.

"You know why I don't ask her."

"Mmmhmm, then why mull over her statement?"