White Collar Fic: Too Good To Be True (IV + Epilogue)
Notes: AU, Neal never ran after Kate. This is the final installment of this story.
Previously:
Part 1 - The FBI suspects Neal is planning a heist
Part 2 - Neal plans a heist
Part 3 - Neal goes on a stakeout
========
Despite Peter's threats, he couldn't hold Neal in custody forever. There was no evidence against him and Neal had a rock solid alibi, courtesy of the FBI. After hours of interrogations, Neal was released. It was already afternoon by the time he finally made it home. He had barely slept the previous night. All he wanted was a hot shower, a change of clothes and at least eight hours of uninterrupted sleep in his own bed.
But, entering his apartment, he found Mozzie sitting on his couch, wine glass in hand, waiting. Neal wondered how long his friend had been sitting there. "Good of you to finally show up."
"Yeah, I was busy, Moz"
Mozzie didn't ask any more questions. It was normal to disappear and lay low after a big score. "We have a problem."
Neal looked around his expansive living room. "Where's the painting?"
"Your suit friend had our Milkmaid moved to a more secure location, before I could get to it."
"He's not my friend." Neal wasn't that surprised at the news, though. Given Peter's line of questioning that day, he had figured Peter suspected he still intended to go after the painting. "So, where is it?"
Mozzie put down his glass on the coffee table. "It's in a vault in the FBI's crime lab. In the Federal Building."
"Well, I'm not going back there." Neal said with finality. He was going to bed.
"Oh, no, no, no, no, no." Mozzie jumped up to intercept him. "Neal, that painting will be returned to the museum any day now. We're both going there, this evening. "
"We?"
"I can't do this on my own, Neal. They've got a Kaso 260 in there."
"I'm burned, Moz. The place could be crawling with White Collar. I'll be arrested the minute I set foot in there."
Mozzie looked at Neal with a calculating look. "I think I have a solution for that. We do need an in however."
"Wait." Neal checked his pockets and produced the card Peter gave him. "How about this?"
========
The FBI crime lab was located in the basement of the Federal Building. Mozzie and Neal had timed it so they entered shortly after 6:00pm, lowering the chances they'll run into many people, but ensuring there will still be somebody around.
Mozzie wore a suit for the event. Neal wore blue overalls with yellow FBI lettering on the back, an FBI baseball cap pulled low over his face. He was carrying a box of rolled-up paintings, which also helped obscure his face.
A young woman wearing a white lab coat stopped them by the entrance. "Sorry, we already closed down for the day."
"Agent Donatello from Albany," Mozzie said by way of introduction. He glanced down at the business card Neal had given him. "Uh.. Agent Burke told me I should put these in your evidence room."
"It's right down there." The lab assistant pointed down the hall. "But Agent Burke was here just a moment ago. Let me see if I can catch him."
Mozzie's smile froze. "Yeah.. that's, that's an excellent idea. George, why don't you put the evidence down there, I'll go with.."
"Agent Ross"
"Right, I'll go with Ross."
Neal waited till they both disappeared around the corner, before he hurried down the hall. The door to the evidence room was open. He peeked in and saw that the coast was clear. Locking the door behind him, he quickly got to work.
The room wasn't very big, and the safe took up most of one wall. He set the box he was carrying down by the safe, and carefully took out his tools. He didn't have much time, but there was no way he could hurry this, and nothing he could really do if he was caught at this stage. And yet, he lived for times like these.
After ten minutes of holding his breath, he finally got the safe open. It took another nerve-wracking minute to locate his Vermeer. He removed it from its case, and unrolled it on a nearby table. Then he unrolled his own forgery next to it. Neal stopped to admire his handiwork. He knew he was good, but even he thought he outdid himself this time.
The only difference between the two was the cut Mozzie had made when he started cutting the painting out of its frame. Taking out a retractable blade, Neal carefully cut the canvas of his forgery, copying Mozzie's cut of the original. Then he rolled his forgery up, and inserted it back into the case, and into the safe. He then rolled up the original, dropping it into his own box, and quickly put back all his tools.
Mission accomplished.
Or not.
Neal could hear Peter's voice down the hall. "I never spoke to any agent Donatello."
He looked wildly round the room and his eyes lit on a door on the far side. Taking one last look to make sure everything was as neat and clean as when he had come in, he grabbed the box and made a quick dash for it. He managed to pick the lock and slip inside just a second before Ross and Peter entered the room. It turned out to be a very small closet. He could still hear Peter, muffled on the other side of the door. He couldn't hear Mozzie, which meant he very probably had made a run for it. "You said he had an assistant with him?"
"Yes, young guy, with a box of paintings. Probably saw the room was locked and left."
"Good. This room is to remain locked at all times. Nobody comes in without accompaniment"
Peter tested the safe door. It was still locked. "Can you open the safe, please?" He noticed the closet door and checked that too. It was also locked.
"Agent Burke?" Ross called him by the open safe.
Peter crossed back to check the evidence he had brought in yesterday. He unrolled the painting, checking it from all sides. It looked untouched.
Neal stood with his ear to the closet door. He waited a full fifteen minutes after the room had gone silent, and then, far less triumphantly than he originally intended, he let himself out of the closet, and out of the building.
Mission accomplished. It was time to celebrate.
========
Epilogue, two weeks later
Mozzie was not celebrating. He and Neal were sitting in Neal's living room, looking at their newly acquired painting.
"You know this painting is now worthless," Mozzie broke the silence.
"It's not my fault the FBI lab rats can't tell a real Vermeer from a fake." Neal was practically beaming.
Mozzie turned to look at him. "Neal, you're a great con-man, but you don't do humble. Your suit friend-"
"He's not my-" Oh, whatever.
"-had it authenticated. And I heard the Dutch authenticated it too." They sat there for a moment, taking in the painting, before Mozzie exploded once again. "I told you not to do too good a job!"
"Not how *I* remember that conversation," Neal mumbled under his breath.
"What?"
"Never mind. Moz, look on the bright side."
"When have I ever done that? The client wants to know why his Milkmaid is now hanging in the Rijksmuseum. His *FBI authenticated* Milkmaid." Mozzie accentuated every word with a jab of his finger in the air. "This has ruined our reputation. *My* reputation."
Neal tried to look properly chastised, but failed. Secretly he wondered how difficult it would be to steal that certificate of authenticity. It would look so good hanging on his wall. By his Vermeer.
========
Author's notes: I hope you enjoyed this final installment. To all those who commented on previous chapters - I cannot tell you how much I appreciate it. This is my first real fanfic, and your support encouraged me to write and write fast :-) I hadn't planned on finishing it up so fast. I apologize again for splitting up the story, but I figured that if I don't start posting, I'll nitpick my story to death and never get around to writing it.
Previously:
Part 1 - The FBI suspects Neal is planning a heist
Part 2 - Neal plans a heist
Part 3 - Neal goes on a stakeout
========
Despite Peter's threats, he couldn't hold Neal in custody forever. There was no evidence against him and Neal had a rock solid alibi, courtesy of the FBI. After hours of interrogations, Neal was released. It was already afternoon by the time he finally made it home. He had barely slept the previous night. All he wanted was a hot shower, a change of clothes and at least eight hours of uninterrupted sleep in his own bed.
But, entering his apartment, he found Mozzie sitting on his couch, wine glass in hand, waiting. Neal wondered how long his friend had been sitting there. "Good of you to finally show up."
"Yeah, I was busy, Moz"
Mozzie didn't ask any more questions. It was normal to disappear and lay low after a big score. "We have a problem."
Neal looked around his expansive living room. "Where's the painting?"
"Your suit friend had our Milkmaid moved to a more secure location, before I could get to it."
"He's not my friend." Neal wasn't that surprised at the news, though. Given Peter's line of questioning that day, he had figured Peter suspected he still intended to go after the painting. "So, where is it?"
Mozzie put down his glass on the coffee table. "It's in a vault in the FBI's crime lab. In the Federal Building."
"Well, I'm not going back there." Neal said with finality. He was going to bed.
"Oh, no, no, no, no, no." Mozzie jumped up to intercept him. "Neal, that painting will be returned to the museum any day now. We're both going there, this evening. "
"We?"
"I can't do this on my own, Neal. They've got a Kaso 260 in there."
"I'm burned, Moz. The place could be crawling with White Collar. I'll be arrested the minute I set foot in there."
Mozzie looked at Neal with a calculating look. "I think I have a solution for that. We do need an in however."
"Wait." Neal checked his pockets and produced the card Peter gave him. "How about this?"
========
The FBI crime lab was located in the basement of the Federal Building. Mozzie and Neal had timed it so they entered shortly after 6:00pm, lowering the chances they'll run into many people, but ensuring there will still be somebody around.
Mozzie wore a suit for the event. Neal wore blue overalls with yellow FBI lettering on the back, an FBI baseball cap pulled low over his face. He was carrying a box of rolled-up paintings, which also helped obscure his face.
A young woman wearing a white lab coat stopped them by the entrance. "Sorry, we already closed down for the day."
"Agent Donatello from Albany," Mozzie said by way of introduction. He glanced down at the business card Neal had given him. "Uh.. Agent Burke told me I should put these in your evidence room."
"It's right down there." The lab assistant pointed down the hall. "But Agent Burke was here just a moment ago. Let me see if I can catch him."
Mozzie's smile froze. "Yeah.. that's, that's an excellent idea. George, why don't you put the evidence down there, I'll go with.."
"Agent Ross"
"Right, I'll go with Ross."
Neal waited till they both disappeared around the corner, before he hurried down the hall. The door to the evidence room was open. He peeked in and saw that the coast was clear. Locking the door behind him, he quickly got to work.
The room wasn't very big, and the safe took up most of one wall. He set the box he was carrying down by the safe, and carefully took out his tools. He didn't have much time, but there was no way he could hurry this, and nothing he could really do if he was caught at this stage. And yet, he lived for times like these.
After ten minutes of holding his breath, he finally got the safe open. It took another nerve-wracking minute to locate his Vermeer. He removed it from its case, and unrolled it on a nearby table. Then he unrolled his own forgery next to it. Neal stopped to admire his handiwork. He knew he was good, but even he thought he outdid himself this time.
The only difference between the two was the cut Mozzie had made when he started cutting the painting out of its frame. Taking out a retractable blade, Neal carefully cut the canvas of his forgery, copying Mozzie's cut of the original. Then he rolled his forgery up, and inserted it back into the case, and into the safe. He then rolled up the original, dropping it into his own box, and quickly put back all his tools.
Mission accomplished.
Or not.
Neal could hear Peter's voice down the hall. "I never spoke to any agent Donatello."
He looked wildly round the room and his eyes lit on a door on the far side. Taking one last look to make sure everything was as neat and clean as when he had come in, he grabbed the box and made a quick dash for it. He managed to pick the lock and slip inside just a second before Ross and Peter entered the room. It turned out to be a very small closet. He could still hear Peter, muffled on the other side of the door. He couldn't hear Mozzie, which meant he very probably had made a run for it. "You said he had an assistant with him?"
"Yes, young guy, with a box of paintings. Probably saw the room was locked and left."
"Good. This room is to remain locked at all times. Nobody comes in without accompaniment"
Peter tested the safe door. It was still locked. "Can you open the safe, please?" He noticed the closet door and checked that too. It was also locked.
"Agent Burke?" Ross called him by the open safe.
Peter crossed back to check the evidence he had brought in yesterday. He unrolled the painting, checking it from all sides. It looked untouched.
Neal stood with his ear to the closet door. He waited a full fifteen minutes after the room had gone silent, and then, far less triumphantly than he originally intended, he let himself out of the closet, and out of the building.
Mission accomplished. It was time to celebrate.
========
Epilogue, two weeks later
Mozzie was not celebrating. He and Neal were sitting in Neal's living room, looking at their newly acquired painting.
"You know this painting is now worthless," Mozzie broke the silence.
"It's not my fault the FBI lab rats can't tell a real Vermeer from a fake." Neal was practically beaming.
Mozzie turned to look at him. "Neal, you're a great con-man, but you don't do humble. Your suit friend-"
"He's not my-" Oh, whatever.
"-had it authenticated. And I heard the Dutch authenticated it too." They sat there for a moment, taking in the painting, before Mozzie exploded once again. "I told you not to do too good a job!"
"Not how *I* remember that conversation," Neal mumbled under his breath.
"What?"
"Never mind. Moz, look on the bright side."
"When have I ever done that? The client wants to know why his Milkmaid is now hanging in the Rijksmuseum. His *FBI authenticated* Milkmaid." Mozzie accentuated every word with a jab of his finger in the air. "This has ruined our reputation. *My* reputation."
Neal tried to look properly chastised, but failed. Secretly he wondered how difficult it would be to steal that certificate of authenticity. It would look so good hanging on his wall. By his Vermeer.
========
Author's notes: I hope you enjoyed this final installment. To all those who commented on previous chapters - I cannot tell you how much I appreciate it. This is my first real fanfic, and your support encouraged me to write and write fast :-) I hadn't planned on finishing it up so fast. I apologize again for splitting up the story, but I figured that if I don't start posting, I'll nitpick my story to death and never get around to writing it.