That hug was almost more than he could bear. This time it was returned. It was for a moment but his arms wrapped around Peter in a sweet embrace. They didn't have long, even this long was putting his cover at risk. At the very least it didn't seem one sided. Peter was lingering almost as long as Neal was.
Finally there was an uncomfortable clearing of his throat and he pulled back. Shoving his hands in his pockets, Neal had to stop. He wasn't going to be able to be on the run and hide if he got too comfortable with being Neal Caffrey again. Part of being Neal Caffrey, of being himself as he wanted to be, was being by Peter's side.
Rubbing a hand along the back of his neck, Neal nodded and managed to even lead the way. There was a place with a faulty camera that he doubted had ever fixed it. It was one of his choice places in the upper east side for burn phones. Soon enough they came upon a small convenience store with dozens of signs crowding up all the windows.
"Here we are." Neal didn't want their lunch to be over, but soon enough it would be.
"Stay here." Peter went into the shop and bought two burn phones. He also made sure to buy a charger for each of them. He didn't know about the shop or the cameras. If anything, he wanted it to be him caught on the video footage, not Neal. As he walked out, he realized he didn't want their lunch to be over either. It meant that they were parting ways and he wasn't ready to do that yet.
Heading out of the store, he looked left and right before facing Neal. "Let's go somewhere that we can open these and exchange phone numbers." He hated to say it, but he was thinking like a criminal. "There are a few fleabag hotels that will work. They're not far from here." They weren't exactly in the nicest part of town.
Reaching out, he wrapped an arm around Neal's shoulders, pulling him close. He was brief, before letting go again. He didn't mind being touchy feely.
That little bit of a criminal that Peter could be was something that always amused Neal when they'd worked together. The man had spent so long fighting crime that he knew it better than almost anyone else. With Neal's input, tweaks, and practical experience, they could have made a dazzling pair in the underworld. As it was, they were a great pair when working the legitimate angle.
"Well, well, well, you started paying attention," Neal said, poking Peter in the side. He wanted to stay like this forever. Step out of being Michael Stanton and into Neal Caffrey again. "Lead the way then, criminal mastermind."
At this point, he should have already wrapped at the museum, gone to his Smithsonian funded hotel, and hooked up with Mozzie. The fact that he was late wasn't going to go over with his friend well. When Moz learned where Neal had been? They were going to have it out. For now though, he was going to soak in these last few minutes.
There was a chance he wouldn't see Peter again like this, even if he tried to stick to the plan. There were still risks.
That tiny little bit of criminal in Peter had emerged a few times on cases. He didn't do it often, but he did do it. And he'd learned it all from Neal. Sometimes when you need to solve a case, you do what you need to do. He had learned a lot from Neal. Once, he did think about them as a crime team. In the end, though, he couldn't do it. He was too honest. Working the solving crimes angle just felt more real to him. Still, it didn't mean he didn't like it when they did play criminals.
"I learned a thing or two. I had a very good teacher." He winked at Neal and led him down the street and around a corner. After a few minutes of walking, they ended up at a motel nobody would ever look for them at. He rented a room for one night under a false name and paid in cash. Heading up to the room, he opened the door and went inside. "Lock it," he said sternly. There were risks. And he was trying to help negate some of them.
The room was small and not decorated very nicely. It put the flea in fleabag. Shrugging off his jacket, he pulled a chair and sat down at the small table inside. Pulling a knife out of his pocket, he began to open the burn phone package and set it up. "We'll program the numbers into our phones but no names. Okay?" He looked up at Neal, a dark look in his eyes. Maybe, just maybe, he cared a lot more for Neal than he was saying. Maybe he was taking this more seriously than even Neal was giving him credit for.
"I promise you, Neal. If this doesn't work, I... I'll see you again. I have to." He swallowed and went back to working on the phone.
Neal hadn't even gone in. No sense in being seen together and recognized later. Once Peter had come back out and around the side, the two of them went back indoors. Up two flights of stairs, with bare bulbs blinking all the while, it wasn't an impressive room by any means once they were locked in. Neal was already flipping the metal bracket and hooking the chain as Peter made his suggestion.
"Come on now. It's me." There was a grin. He knew what he was doing. Taking a seat at the edge of the bed, he was already going at his own phone with a pocket tool. Okay so maybe he wasn't totally on the up and up but really, it was smart to carry tools of the trade! "I won't be calling anyone else so I don't think names are needed."
Names, pictures, anything that constituted normal interaction couldn't happen. One whiff of Neal Caffrey before Peter said it was safe and they were going to to never meet again without bulletproof glass between them and a prison phone to talk on. Glancing at Peter, when he thought the older man wasn't looking, Neal felt his heart break just a little.
This wasn't how this weekend was supposed to go! And now, all he could think about wasn't the Hope Diamond. It was Peter Burke.
As Moz would accuse him of later, it was always Peter Burke these days.
"You can't." That was firm and just as stern as Peter's words before. Neal just couldn't stand the thought of his friend in trouble. As he said the next words, it took careful control to mask the pain and guilt in his voice. Peter might even have caught the waver in Neal's tone as he would say 'felon' aloud. "They catch you and you won't even have Sterling and Bosch. You'll have a charge of aiding and abetting a felon."
Peter smiled over at Neal on the bed. "So I'll be the only contact in your phone. I feel special, Neal. Thanks." And yes, he did notice Neal was on the bed, but he kept those thoughts to himself. No, there couldn't be any interaction. No texting. No pictures. This couldn't be a regular thing. Hopefully, he would be able to convince Hughes and this was all moot.
He sighed as he plugged in the charger and set up the phone. He knew the stakes. He knew how important this was and what risks were involved. That didn't stop him. If anything, it only made him want to work harder. It wasn't just his life that was on the line. It was Neal now. Neal was the target he needed to protect.
"You're not a felon, Neal. You ran, but you haven't stolen the diamond yet." Pocketing the phone, Peter stood up and moved over to sit beside Neal on the bed. "They won't catch us because we can do this, Neal. We have the edge on most criminals." He sighed and wrapped an arm around Neal's shoulders. "You're not a felon. Not to me."
"Isn't running enough?" They put his face on the news, isn't that the treatment felons got? "Yeah, well you're the only one."
Neal slumped a bit against Peter's shoulder. For someone so young, Neal Caffrey felt like he had weight on his shoulders that men twice his age had never experienced. Everyone saw him as a con man. Even now, despite the plans they were making, Peter did too. He mentioned the diamond again and Neal didn't bother to argue. Not that he was agreeing he was there to steal it, though he was, but because he knew he'd earned this.
Neal had earned losing everything that mattered to him. He never should have kept that treasure. The moment he found the room, he should have called Peter. Everything would have stayed the same. Now even the man he trusted, the only person Neal even missed any more, well. He might have said Neal wasn't a felon but he still thought he was willing to be a thief.
And the worst part was, Neal was willing to be just that. That lack of credit was as much as he deserved.
Gentle hands rubbed Neal's shoulder, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. "It's different, Neal. Kramer was involved. You ran because you had to. And we'll make them see that. I promise you, I will help you take care of this." He sighed and clutched the younger man to him, never wanting to let go. "Running because you have to isn't the same as running because you want to."
The man was so young and yet had seen so much. Peter didn't envy Neal at all. He'd seen and done some things in his life too, but nothing compared to Neal. Neal's living made Peter look like he was only fifteen. His eyes closed and he breathed in, smelling the scent of Neal's shampoo mixed with a hint of cologne. He wanted to breathe it and memorize it, as if making a memory for himself.
"No matter what, Neal. I... I believe in you." He kept his arms wrapped tightly around Neal. Gently, he rocked the younger man against him. "You're a good person, Neal. You..." He sighed. "I trust you with my life. You know that, right? I would take a bullet for you. And I know you'd do the same for me. I Lo... Uh. I love having you around." He smiled and reached up, gently running his fingers through Neal's hair.
That new and additional level of affection didn't go unnoticed but Neal wasn't about to complain either. Mozzie was funny about sharing glasses, much less touching in any capacity. A tactile and social creature by nature, ending up as isolated as he'd become was breaking him slowly. Tears wouldn't be shed but Neal was damned close. As Peter held him, he could actually feel the burning of water in his eyes.
"Shame the whole lot of the FBI doesn't think like you. You'd probably have a lot more help and a lot more consultants if you were running the place."
There was that familiar humor again. Anything to avoid feeling real, actual feelings. Neal had told himself to stop feeling much of anything a long time ago. It was a forced lightness, they both knew it, but it was like Neal compulsively couldn't stop himself from doing it. He'd already screwed up the heist royally with his feelings, he couldn't let it get any worse.
Then Peter went on about trust and believing with him and his resolve began to fade fast. Damnit Caffrey, keep it together. He was caught up in his own strangled emotions enough that he didn't quite catch the stumble through phrases regarding love.
"I know you would. I know Peter." There was relief to his voice to hear it aloud and to know Peter knew it was a two way street, that whole willingness to dive in to the line of fire. "I'm going to do my best to prove to you that you don't have to regret feeling that way."
Peter wouldn't cry. He was good at consoling. He'd done it for El many times. He'd even done it for Neal once or twice. His mind went back to memories like Kate and Sara. No, the only people who had ever seen Peter cry was El and Diana. He could count on one hand the amount of times that he had cried. The only reason Diana had seen him cry at all was when El had been taken. He was the comforter. And right now, it felt good to console Neal.
"Never know, Neal. Maybe they do and they just don't say anything under Hughes. Diana is one that felt that way." He smiled down at Neal, fingers running through his hair and gently massaging his scalp. He chuckled, enjoying Neal's humor. While Neal might be one who didn't share his feelings, Peter didn't mind with people he trusted. He wasn't a touchy, feely type of guy, but he didn't want to hide from Neal.
"Neal, I've known you a long time." He smiled. "I will never have any regrets about you." And that was the first time Peter really lied to Neal. He lied because yes, he did have one regret. He'd had conversations with El once or twice regarding Neal. He had a good idea what she thought about Neal, but nothing had been set in stone.
Regaining the composure he'd lost, Neal blinked back tears. He didn't want Peter to see him as anything less than calm, collected, and in control. Sitting up a little straighter, he summoned back that charm and confidence. Hearing positive words about Diana certainly helped in that regard.
"Make this work Peter. I'm tired of being just a wanted man."
He wanted to go back to being classy, intelligent, and needed. There was a time where all of his talents were needed by the right people and Neal could be himself without, mostly, repercussion from the law. Yes he was here to steal the diamond, but only because he'd lost that legitimate direction the moment he fled Manhattan.
Now that he was upright and the plan was in place, Neal knew it was time to part ways. Time and, well, if they didn't soon Neal was going to be too much of a head case to talk to Mozzie that night. Standing, abruptly and awkwardly, he looked between the phones in their hands.
"Anything else I should know before I disappear again?"
There was a good chance he wasn't going to show for dinner. Not that he was going to tell Peter that. He just knew he might lose the last of his resolve to go into hiding somewhere far away and safe.
Peter stood up, taking a deep breath and exhaling it slowly. He would. He would do his damnest to make it work. Because anything less just wasn't acceptable. Neal was much more than a wanted man. And he was more than some investigator. Sara had been great. He owed her a lot. And yet, he needed the FBI.
The crap he spewed about change had been true, but hollow to him. Anywhere less than the FBI made him feel unhappy. Neal helped him to see that. He shouldn't just cut and run. He needed to fight for his job. Neal hadn't been there to help him before. Now, he saw it and he wasn't going to go without a fight.
"Don't let Mozzie change your mind." He knew that Neal would leave and then go tell him he wasn't doing the con. Or, he really hoped that Neal wouldn't do it. "I'm going to trust you, Neal." He reached out and took Neal's hand in his. "I'm not going to say anything to anyone about the Hope Diamond. Okay?" He raised an eyebrow at his former partner. He wouldn't say anything and he hoped he didn't read about it in tomorrow's paper.
Peter made sure that the phones were programmed correctly, testing them before they parted ways. He looked up at Neal and there was something in his eyes that he just knew this was it. Neal wouldn't be coming for dinner. El would be hurt, but it had to be done.
He looked down at Neal's hand in his. He almost didn't want to let go. "When I go home, I'm going to call Diana. Tomorrow, I'm going go try to talk to Hughes. If you need me, at all, you just call me." He sighed and stepped up, hugging Neal tight. "This isn't the end, Neal."
By the time they had pulled apart from that final hug, the veneer smile Neal used to bluff confidence was right back in place. He needed time to clear his head before going back to meet with Mozzie. His emotions were twisted up and had, in the span of just a couple hours, left him so confused that his initial resolve to steal the diamond and make a break for it was waning.
"Can you do one thing for me Peter?" Neal was already pocketing his programmed burn phone in a hidden compartment inside his jacket. "Can you thank Diana and... tell Elizabeth I'm sorry."
What he was sorry for wasn't exactly explained out but the Burkes ought to have known. For everything. For not showing for dinner right on down to El's abduction and the subsequent invasion into their lives on his account. Even now, when he was considering going back on his con, he couldn't quite do the right thing. He couldn't stay and he couldn't do what it took to prove to Peter he could be a good man.
The best he could do was resist the urge to go down as the only man who'd ever, allegedly, stolen the Hope Diamond.
It wasn't the end but it could just as soon be if their plan didn't work out. The end of Peter and Neal anyways.
"I better go." Before it gets any harder. "Call me when you know something."
Neal hated to walk out on Peter like that but both men knew they had no choice. No more hugs, no more touching even, because Neal thought it might kill him, and as suddenly as they'd crossed each other's paths in the Met, they were alone and apart again once more. Neal disappeared within steps of getting back onto the street. He knew he had to be a ghost, even from Peter's searching, if this had any chance of working.
--
Later, back in his room the Smithsonian had rented, then he fell apart. The phone he'd been regularly carrying buzzed on the dresser but he ignored it. Mozzie could wait. After three splashes of cold water weren't enough, Neal outright lost his temper. The champagne bottle he'd bought the night before to celebrate the con was given a look of pure hatred before he dramatically wiped all his con materials to the floor in one moment of utterly annihilated composure.
Finally there was an uncomfortable clearing of his throat and he pulled back. Shoving his hands in his pockets, Neal had to stop. He wasn't going to be able to be on the run and hide if he got too comfortable with being Neal Caffrey again. Part of being Neal Caffrey, of being himself as he wanted to be, was being by Peter's side.
Rubbing a hand along the back of his neck, Neal nodded and managed to even lead the way. There was a place with a faulty camera that he doubted had ever fixed it. It was one of his choice places in the upper east side for burn phones. Soon enough they came upon a small convenience store with dozens of signs crowding up all the windows.
"Here we are." Neal didn't want their lunch to be over, but soon enough it would be.
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Heading out of the store, he looked left and right before facing Neal. "Let's go somewhere that we can open these and exchange phone numbers." He hated to say it, but he was thinking like a criminal. "There are a few fleabag hotels that will work. They're not far from here." They weren't exactly in the nicest part of town.
Reaching out, he wrapped an arm around Neal's shoulders, pulling him close. He was brief, before letting go again. He didn't mind being touchy feely.
"Come on. We have work to do."
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"Well, well, well, you started paying attention," Neal said, poking Peter in the side. He wanted to stay like this forever. Step out of being Michael Stanton and into Neal Caffrey again. "Lead the way then, criminal mastermind."
At this point, he should have already wrapped at the museum, gone to his Smithsonian funded hotel, and hooked up with Mozzie. The fact that he was late wasn't going to go over with his friend well. When Moz learned where Neal had been? They were going to have it out. For now though, he was going to soak in these last few minutes.
There was a chance he wouldn't see Peter again like this, even if he tried to stick to the plan. There were still risks.
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"I learned a thing or two. I had a very good teacher." He winked at Neal and led him down the street and around a corner. After a few minutes of walking, they ended up at a motel nobody would ever look for them at. He rented a room for one night under a false name and paid in cash. Heading up to the room, he opened the door and went inside. "Lock it," he said sternly. There were risks. And he was trying to help negate some of them.
The room was small and not decorated very nicely. It put the flea in fleabag. Shrugging off his jacket, he pulled a chair and sat down at the small table inside. Pulling a knife out of his pocket, he began to open the burn phone package and set it up. "We'll program the numbers into our phones but no names. Okay?" He looked up at Neal, a dark look in his eyes. Maybe, just maybe, he cared a lot more for Neal than he was saying. Maybe he was taking this more seriously than even Neal was giving him credit for.
"I promise you, Neal. If this doesn't work, I... I'll see you again. I have to." He swallowed and went back to working on the phone.
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"Come on now. It's me." There was a grin. He knew what he was doing. Taking a seat at the edge of the bed, he was already going at his own phone with a pocket tool. Okay so maybe he wasn't totally on the up and up but really, it was smart to carry tools of the trade! "I won't be calling anyone else so I don't think names are needed."
Names, pictures, anything that constituted normal interaction couldn't happen. One whiff of Neal Caffrey before Peter said it was safe and they were going to to never meet again without bulletproof glass between them and a prison phone to talk on. Glancing at Peter, when he thought the older man wasn't looking, Neal felt his heart break just a little.
This wasn't how this weekend was supposed to go! And now, all he could think about wasn't the Hope Diamond. It was Peter Burke.
As Moz would accuse him of later, it was always Peter Burke these days.
"You can't." That was firm and just as stern as Peter's words before. Neal just couldn't stand the thought of his friend in trouble. As he said the next words, it took careful control to mask the pain and guilt in his voice. Peter might even have caught the waver in Neal's tone as he would say 'felon' aloud. "They catch you and you won't even have Sterling and Bosch. You'll have a charge of aiding and abetting a felon."
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He sighed as he plugged in the charger and set up the phone. He knew the stakes. He knew how important this was and what risks were involved. That didn't stop him. If anything, it only made him want to work harder. It wasn't just his life that was on the line. It was Neal now. Neal was the target he needed to protect.
"You're not a felon, Neal. You ran, but you haven't stolen the diamond yet." Pocketing the phone, Peter stood up and moved over to sit beside Neal on the bed. "They won't catch us because we can do this, Neal. We have the edge on most criminals." He sighed and wrapped an arm around Neal's shoulders. "You're not a felon. Not to me."
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Neal slumped a bit against Peter's shoulder. For someone so young, Neal Caffrey felt like he had weight on his shoulders that men twice his age had never experienced. Everyone saw him as a con man. Even now, despite the plans they were making, Peter did too. He mentioned the diamond again and Neal didn't bother to argue. Not that he was agreeing he was there to steal it, though he was, but because he knew he'd earned this.
Neal had earned losing everything that mattered to him. He never should have kept that treasure. The moment he found the room, he should have called Peter. Everything would have stayed the same. Now even the man he trusted, the only person Neal even missed any more, well. He might have said Neal wasn't a felon but he still thought he was willing to be a thief.
And the worst part was, Neal was willing to be just that. That lack of credit was as much as he deserved.
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The man was so young and yet had seen so much. Peter didn't envy Neal at all. He'd seen and done some things in his life too, but nothing compared to Neal. Neal's living made Peter look like he was only fifteen. His eyes closed and he breathed in, smelling the scent of Neal's shampoo mixed with a hint of cologne. He wanted to breathe it and memorize it, as if making a memory for himself.
"No matter what, Neal. I... I believe in you." He kept his arms wrapped tightly around Neal. Gently, he rocked the younger man against him. "You're a good person, Neal. You..." He sighed. "I trust you with my life. You know that, right? I would take a bullet for you. And I know you'd do the same for me. I Lo... Uh. I love having you around." He smiled and reached up, gently running his fingers through Neal's hair.
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"Shame the whole lot of the FBI doesn't think like you. You'd probably have a lot more help and a lot more consultants if you were running the place."
There was that familiar humor again. Anything to avoid feeling real, actual feelings. Neal had told himself to stop feeling much of anything a long time ago. It was a forced lightness, they both knew it, but it was like Neal compulsively couldn't stop himself from doing it. He'd already screwed up the heist royally with his feelings, he couldn't let it get any worse.
Then Peter went on about trust and believing with him and his resolve began to fade fast. Damnit Caffrey, keep it together. He was caught up in his own strangled emotions enough that he didn't quite catch the stumble through phrases regarding love.
"I know you would. I know Peter." There was relief to his voice to hear it aloud and to know Peter knew it was a two way street, that whole willingness to dive in to the line of fire. "I'm going to do my best to prove to you that you don't have to regret feeling that way."
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"Never know, Neal. Maybe they do and they just don't say anything under Hughes. Diana is one that felt that way." He smiled down at Neal, fingers running through his hair and gently massaging his scalp. He chuckled, enjoying Neal's humor. While Neal might be one who didn't share his feelings, Peter didn't mind with people he trusted. He wasn't a touchy, feely type of guy, but he didn't want to hide from Neal.
"Neal, I've known you a long time." He smiled. "I will never have any regrets about you." And that was the first time Peter really lied to Neal. He lied because yes, he did have one regret. He'd had conversations with El once or twice regarding Neal. He had a good idea what she thought about Neal, but nothing had been set in stone.
"Shhh, Neal. It's okay."
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"Make this work Peter. I'm tired of being just a wanted man."
He wanted to go back to being classy, intelligent, and needed. There was a time where all of his talents were needed by the right people and Neal could be himself without, mostly, repercussion from the law. Yes he was here to steal the diamond, but only because he'd lost that legitimate direction the moment he fled Manhattan.
Now that he was upright and the plan was in place, Neal knew it was time to part ways. Time and, well, if they didn't soon Neal was going to be too much of a head case to talk to Mozzie that night. Standing, abruptly and awkwardly, he looked between the phones in their hands.
"Anything else I should know before I disappear again?"
There was a good chance he wasn't going to show for dinner. Not that he was going to tell Peter that. He just knew he might lose the last of his resolve to go into hiding somewhere far away and safe.
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The crap he spewed about change had been true, but hollow to him. Anywhere less than the FBI made him feel unhappy. Neal helped him to see that. He shouldn't just cut and run. He needed to fight for his job. Neal hadn't been there to help him before. Now, he saw it and he wasn't going to go without a fight.
"Don't let Mozzie change your mind." He knew that Neal would leave and then go tell him he wasn't doing the con. Or, he really hoped that Neal wouldn't do it. "I'm going to trust you, Neal." He reached out and took Neal's hand in his. "I'm not going to say anything to anyone about the Hope Diamond. Okay?" He raised an eyebrow at his former partner. He wouldn't say anything and he hoped he didn't read about it in tomorrow's paper.
Peter made sure that the phones were programmed correctly, testing them before they parted ways. He looked up at Neal and there was something in his eyes that he just knew this was it. Neal wouldn't be coming for dinner. El would be hurt, but it had to be done.
He looked down at Neal's hand in his. He almost didn't want to let go. "When I go home, I'm going to call Diana. Tomorrow, I'm going go try to talk to Hughes. If you need me, at all, you just call me." He sighed and stepped up, hugging Neal tight. "This isn't the end, Neal."
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"Can you do one thing for me Peter?" Neal was already pocketing his programmed burn phone in a hidden compartment inside his jacket. "Can you thank Diana and... tell Elizabeth I'm sorry."
What he was sorry for wasn't exactly explained out but the Burkes ought to have known. For everything. For not showing for dinner right on down to El's abduction and the subsequent invasion into their lives on his account. Even now, when he was considering going back on his con, he couldn't quite do the right thing. He couldn't stay and he couldn't do what it took to prove to Peter he could be a good man.
The best he could do was resist the urge to go down as the only man who'd ever, allegedly, stolen the Hope Diamond.
It wasn't the end but it could just as soon be if their plan didn't work out. The end of Peter and Neal anyways.
"I better go." Before it gets any harder. "Call me when you know something."
Neal hated to walk out on Peter like that but both men knew they had no choice. No more hugs, no more touching even, because Neal thought it might kill him, and as suddenly as they'd crossed each other's paths in the Met, they were alone and apart again once more. Neal disappeared within steps of getting back onto the street. He knew he had to be a ghost, even from Peter's searching, if this had any chance of working.
--
Later, back in his room the Smithsonian had rented, then he fell apart. The phone he'd been regularly carrying buzzed on the dresser but he ignored it. Mozzie could wait. After three splashes of cold water weren't enough, Neal outright lost his temper. The champagne bottle he'd bought the night before to celebrate the con was given a look of pure hatred before he dramatically wiped all his con materials to the floor in one moment of utterly annihilated composure.
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