White Collar Big Bang: Open And Shut, Chapter 4
See Chapter 1 for header info
Chapter 3
June was still up when Neal tiptoed in late at night. She was already in her nightgown, sitting in an armchair, reading a book. She looked up at him with a smile, but then noticed the suitcase he was holding. A dreamy look overcame her, and Neal realized with a twinge of guilt that he hadn't thought to ask if he could take the suitcase. Like everything else in 'his' apartment, he assumed it was there for his use.
"I hope you weren't waiting up."
Whatever memories it had brought up, June quickly recovered. "Did I ever tell you about the time we went down to Memphis, Byron and I?"
Neal noticed her lack of denial and grinned. "I'd love to hear about it. I'll just-" he lifted his suitcase; "I'll just bring this up and take a quick shower."
Neal opened the door to his apartment, and once again came to a halt. The girl of his dream was standing there. She wasn't wearing anything fancy, pants and a long shirt, all black, but as far as Neal was concerned, she shined. She put down the wine bottle she'd been examining when he walked in and shot him a calculating look. "I believe you have my wallet."
Neal shut the door behind him, a slow smile playing at his lips. "How'd you get in?" June would have mentioned something if she knew a girl was waiting for him.
"Oh," she flipped a thumb behind her, towards the patio. "The door was open, I let myself in."
"I see." He put the suitcase down on the floor.
"Do you? See, there was something about you didn't make sense-"
"Just one?"
"So I looked you up, Neal Caffrey."
She moved over to him.
"Found anything interesting?"
She poked a finger in his chest. "There's very interesting rumors flying around."
"About me?"
"They say you fled with a multi-million dollar art treasure, and that the FBI only managed to retrieve a tiny portion of it."
"Really?"
"You wouldn't know anything about that?"
"Not on record, no." Neal shrugged.
She nodded approvingly. "So I put two and two together."
"Got to any interesting conclusions?"
"You're an FBI snitch."
Neal frowned at the term. "I may help the FBI, but I never snitched."
"Call it what you may," she waved that off. "What do you get out of it?" She reached for his suit, feeling the material. Her eyes found his. "Money?"
There was no reason to hide anything anymore. "A get out of jail card." He lifted his pants leg to show his anklet. "Of sorts."
"Interesting." Her eyes looked him up and down. "I have this rule; I don't hang around with snitches. Particularly ones who intend to hand me over to the Feds. "
"And yet you're here," Neal pointed out.
"True. You see, because I think you're playing them."
"And what makes you think that?"
"The Feds never showed up at the Astoria. They haven't put up their wanted posters all over town. I don't think they know about me."
Neal shrugged. "Nobody said I have to tell them everything."
"No.. but I bet they'd really love to get their hands on me now."
Neal chuckled. "Oh, yeah."
"So I thought I'd come here and take a look. See who Neal Caffrey really is," her hand swept out to encompass the entire apartment. She motioned towards the painting. "You've got quite the talent."
Neal ducked his head in mock humility.
She turned to examine it, reaching out to touch it. "Do you plan on finishing it?"
Neal was never one to miss an opportunity. "How about right now?"
Jen shot him a surprised look. "What, now?"
"You've got something else planned?"
She shook her head.
With a quick grin, Neal went to get his brushes. "So.. Jennifer Heisner.. is that your real name?"
"Call me Jen, and it’s as real as it’s going to get."
Neal grinned. He deserved it.
*****
The birds were singing outside when Neal woke up, feeling better than he'd felt in years. He reached for the sleeping girl next to him. His hand brushed through the air and hit an empty pillow. His eyes snapped open with a start and he propped himself up on one elbow to look around. Jen wasn't there.
"Jen?"
There was no response.
His apartment was small, and a quick search showed him he was indeed alone. Had he dreamed it all?
Running a hand through his hair, he walked back to his bed. The easel was there, the finished painting showing Jen's face smiling back at him. He hadn't dreamed it after all.
A note was taped to the easel. "Had to go. Park at noon. -J"
He unstuck the note with a shake of his head, and a quick smile. So she didn't completely disappear. But which park?
Neal's phone rang. Note in hand, he went to go find it. He hoped it was Jen, but as it turned out, it was Mozzie.
"Hey, Neal."
Neal had only one thing on his mind. "She came back, Moz!"
"She.." Moz wasn't following. "Who?"
"Jen." Neal reread the short note. He loved her handwriting.
Mozzie didn't sound as ecstatic as Neal. "Jen?" The name didn't mean anything to him. But then realization struck. Jen. Jennifer. The girl he'd supposedly been looking the last few days. This was impossible. "You mean the same girl who tried to shoot you?! "
"But she didn't."
"With a gun, Neal. And she maced you. And you have no idea who she is," Mozzie tried another tack.
"Oh, but I do, Moz, I do." Neal waved Mozzie's concerns away. Jen was the love of his life. "You should get to know her, Moz, you'll like her."
Mozzie's answer was inaudible.
Neal disconnected the call, his mind already busy with more important things. He knew exactly which park.
*****
"Caffrey, heard you were pretty busy over the weekend," Clinton stopped Neal at the entrance to the White Collar division. "Good job."
Neal grinned as modestly as he could. "Thanks, Jones."
"You weren't the only one who spent the weekend slaving away for the FBI. Here take a look at this." He was holding a black & white picture of a New York street.
Neal looked at the picture, then back to Clinton. "What am I supposed to be seeing?"
The FBI agent tapped his finger against the photo. "Recognize the bike?"
Neal reached for the photo and squinted at it. Yes, he did recognize the bike. "Is that the same-"
"Yep." Clinton smiled. "We've got her."
Neal's heart skipped a beat. "We did?"
"Well, we're one step closer now. This is from a traffic cam next to the Dobbler Gallery, right about the time it was hit."
The gallery was hit a week earlier, and now the FBI had positive indications that Jen was involved. Not good.
Peter stopped by both men. "Now that we've cleaned up Memphis, it's time to clean up New York. So what do you think now, Neal? Do we have a new thief in town?"
Neal dropped the picture. "Looks like it."
Peter picked up on Neal's lack of enthusiasm. "Oh, somebody's stepping on your turf?"
Neal shrugged. "She doesn't seem big-time to me."
"We'll see about that." Peter's instincts were usually right, and they were telling him that this time they might be on to something big.
The next few hours seemed to tick by ever so slowly. The team briefing focused mostly on the Zorro case, the agents now enthused about the possibility of finding their thief, but there were other cases on the docket. Neal was assigned a hefty pile of paperwork on a new insurance scam. It didn't make the time go any faster.
Neal was going to ask for an early lunch, so he could meet Jen on time, but the Feds had other plans for him. Peter called another meeting just before lunch, to review the case again. Neal listened attentively, unobtrusively glancing at his watch every five minutes. He hoped Peter wasn't going to go into overtime.
He sighed with relief when he finally heard Peter say, "OK, people, let's break for lunch."
"Finally," Neal muttered under his breath. He quickly got up, and headed out, only to be brought up short by Callaway. "Neal. Peter," she nodded to Peter, who was just coming out of the conference room. "I just had a long talk with SAIC Johnson from the Memphis office; he was quite impressed with you two. Good job."
Neal and Peter exchanged a glance. "Thank you."
"Mind walking me through the case?" Callaway motioned them to her office.
Peter smiled. "Sure." With a suppressed sigh, Neal dutifully followed Peter.
*****
It was fifteen minutes after twelve when Neal arrived at the park, breathless. It was the same park where he first met Jen. Even now, in the middle of the day, it was mostly empty, but there were still a few people about: a mother with baby stroller, a couple of older men sitting on the bench, a bored ice-cream vendor, but no Jen. Damn. And he'd been so sure this was the park she'd meant.
It shouldn't be like this. They were meant for each other. She'd come back to him, surely he should know how to find her again.
He was about to turn away when she stepped out from behind a grove of trees. "Not the best idea to keep a girl waiting on your first date."
Neal lifted his hands innocently. "My boss held me up."
"Hm." She kissed him. "You don't seem like the guy who cares about what his boss says."
"I don't. Usually. But these are not usual times." Before Jen could contemplate that further, he reached for her hand. "How about I make it up to you for being late?"
A few minutes later Neal and Jen were sitting on one of the wooden benches, ice cream cones in hand.
"It's been years since I've done this." Jen laughed delightedly.
He grinned at her, but then turned serious. If it were up to Peter, Jen would be in jail right now. And Peter could be extremely single-minded when it came to catching criminals.
Jen noticed the change. "What?"
"Peter is already on the lookout for your bike."
She caught a drip of her cone and licked it off her hand. "Peter?"
"My FBI handler." Neal could feel the ice cream turning bitter in his mouth. Peter was so much more. The FBI agent had been so proud of him in front of Callaway. Not that Neal had ever been accused of being humble, but even he had felt a bit uncomfortable as Peter heaped more and more praise on his partner's shoulders. And now, here he was, sharing an ice cream with the same woman Peter was chasing.
"I see." She didn’t seem concerned. "Well, I already dumped it."
Neal's glance was enough of a question.
"After I realized you're working for the Feds."
"You don't trust me." With all the guilt he felt about going behind Peter's back, he was still surprised.
Jen didn't seem put out by Neal's accusation. "You would have done the same."
Neal had to admit she was right. He finished off his cone and took a look at the time. His lunch break was almost over. He caught an ice-cream drip off her chin and leaned in to kiss her. "Will I see you tonight?"
She smiled mischievously. "I've already got something planned."
"Something interesting?"
She slowly finished off her cone, and gave him a calculated look. "Maybe."
She seemed to enjoy piquing his curiosity. Neal would have probably enjoyed trying to guess, but time was pressing. "What is it?"
"Not something I'm going to tell an FBI snitch."
She'd said it with a smile, but the words still stung. He didn't want Jen to see him as the FBI consultant, the rat who was willing to help the FBI catch other criminals just so he could feel the warm sun on his skin again. He wanted her to see the real him. The Neal who for three years thumbed his nose at the authorities as they chased him around the globe.
"You know.." Neal leaned in closer. "FBI snitches can be very useful."
"Really?" She pulled back and considered him. "Maybe you'll show me someday."
"When will I see you?"
Jen shrugged. "I'll have to lay low for a few days."
The offer was out of his mouth before he could think it through. "Why don't you lay low by me?"
"In the FBI's backyard?" She glanced at him with a raised eyebrow.
Neal grinned. "The best place to be."
Chapter 5
Chapter 3
June was still up when Neal tiptoed in late at night. She was already in her nightgown, sitting in an armchair, reading a book. She looked up at him with a smile, but then noticed the suitcase he was holding. A dreamy look overcame her, and Neal realized with a twinge of guilt that he hadn't thought to ask if he could take the suitcase. Like everything else in 'his' apartment, he assumed it was there for his use.
"I hope you weren't waiting up."
Whatever memories it had brought up, June quickly recovered. "Did I ever tell you about the time we went down to Memphis, Byron and I?"
Neal noticed her lack of denial and grinned. "I'd love to hear about it. I'll just-" he lifted his suitcase; "I'll just bring this up and take a quick shower."
Neal opened the door to his apartment, and once again came to a halt. The girl of his dream was standing there. She wasn't wearing anything fancy, pants and a long shirt, all black, but as far as Neal was concerned, she shined. She put down the wine bottle she'd been examining when he walked in and shot him a calculating look. "I believe you have my wallet."
Neal shut the door behind him, a slow smile playing at his lips. "How'd you get in?" June would have mentioned something if she knew a girl was waiting for him.
"Oh," she flipped a thumb behind her, towards the patio. "The door was open, I let myself in."
"I see." He put the suitcase down on the floor.
"Do you? See, there was something about you didn't make sense-"
"Just one?"
"So I looked you up, Neal Caffrey."
She moved over to him.
"Found anything interesting?"
She poked a finger in his chest. "There's very interesting rumors flying around."
"About me?"
"They say you fled with a multi-million dollar art treasure, and that the FBI only managed to retrieve a tiny portion of it."
"Really?"
"You wouldn't know anything about that?"
"Not on record, no." Neal shrugged.
She nodded approvingly. "So I put two and two together."
"Got to any interesting conclusions?"
"You're an FBI snitch."
Neal frowned at the term. "I may help the FBI, but I never snitched."
"Call it what you may," she waved that off. "What do you get out of it?" She reached for his suit, feeling the material. Her eyes found his. "Money?"
There was no reason to hide anything anymore. "A get out of jail card." He lifted his pants leg to show his anklet. "Of sorts."
"Interesting." Her eyes looked him up and down. "I have this rule; I don't hang around with snitches. Particularly ones who intend to hand me over to the Feds. "
"And yet you're here," Neal pointed out.
"True. You see, because I think you're playing them."
"And what makes you think that?"
"The Feds never showed up at the Astoria. They haven't put up their wanted posters all over town. I don't think they know about me."
Neal shrugged. "Nobody said I have to tell them everything."
"No.. but I bet they'd really love to get their hands on me now."
Neal chuckled. "Oh, yeah."
"So I thought I'd come here and take a look. See who Neal Caffrey really is," her hand swept out to encompass the entire apartment. She motioned towards the painting. "You've got quite the talent."
Neal ducked his head in mock humility.
She turned to examine it, reaching out to touch it. "Do you plan on finishing it?"
Neal was never one to miss an opportunity. "How about right now?"
Jen shot him a surprised look. "What, now?"
"You've got something else planned?"
She shook her head.
With a quick grin, Neal went to get his brushes. "So.. Jennifer Heisner.. is that your real name?"
"Call me Jen, and it’s as real as it’s going to get."
Neal grinned. He deserved it.
*****
The birds were singing outside when Neal woke up, feeling better than he'd felt in years. He reached for the sleeping girl next to him. His hand brushed through the air and hit an empty pillow. His eyes snapped open with a start and he propped himself up on one elbow to look around. Jen wasn't there.
"Jen?"
There was no response.
His apartment was small, and a quick search showed him he was indeed alone. Had he dreamed it all?
Running a hand through his hair, he walked back to his bed. The easel was there, the finished painting showing Jen's face smiling back at him. He hadn't dreamed it after all.
A note was taped to the easel. "Had to go. Park at noon. -J"
He unstuck the note with a shake of his head, and a quick smile. So she didn't completely disappear. But which park?
Neal's phone rang. Note in hand, he went to go find it. He hoped it was Jen, but as it turned out, it was Mozzie.
"Hey, Neal."
Neal had only one thing on his mind. "She came back, Moz!"
"She.." Moz wasn't following. "Who?"
"Jen." Neal reread the short note. He loved her handwriting.
Mozzie didn't sound as ecstatic as Neal. "Jen?" The name didn't mean anything to him. But then realization struck. Jen. Jennifer. The girl he'd supposedly been looking the last few days. This was impossible. "You mean the same girl who tried to shoot you?! "
"But she didn't."
"With a gun, Neal. And she maced you. And you have no idea who she is," Mozzie tried another tack.
"Oh, but I do, Moz, I do." Neal waved Mozzie's concerns away. Jen was the love of his life. "You should get to know her, Moz, you'll like her."
Mozzie's answer was inaudible.
Neal disconnected the call, his mind already busy with more important things. He knew exactly which park.
*****
"Caffrey, heard you were pretty busy over the weekend," Clinton stopped Neal at the entrance to the White Collar division. "Good job."
Neal grinned as modestly as he could. "Thanks, Jones."
"You weren't the only one who spent the weekend slaving away for the FBI. Here take a look at this." He was holding a black & white picture of a New York street.
Neal looked at the picture, then back to Clinton. "What am I supposed to be seeing?"
The FBI agent tapped his finger against the photo. "Recognize the bike?"
Neal reached for the photo and squinted at it. Yes, he did recognize the bike. "Is that the same-"
"Yep." Clinton smiled. "We've got her."
Neal's heart skipped a beat. "We did?"
"Well, we're one step closer now. This is from a traffic cam next to the Dobbler Gallery, right about the time it was hit."
The gallery was hit a week earlier, and now the FBI had positive indications that Jen was involved. Not good.
Peter stopped by both men. "Now that we've cleaned up Memphis, it's time to clean up New York. So what do you think now, Neal? Do we have a new thief in town?"
Neal dropped the picture. "Looks like it."
Peter picked up on Neal's lack of enthusiasm. "Oh, somebody's stepping on your turf?"
Neal shrugged. "She doesn't seem big-time to me."
"We'll see about that." Peter's instincts were usually right, and they were telling him that this time they might be on to something big.
The next few hours seemed to tick by ever so slowly. The team briefing focused mostly on the Zorro case, the agents now enthused about the possibility of finding their thief, but there were other cases on the docket. Neal was assigned a hefty pile of paperwork on a new insurance scam. It didn't make the time go any faster.
Neal was going to ask for an early lunch, so he could meet Jen on time, but the Feds had other plans for him. Peter called another meeting just before lunch, to review the case again. Neal listened attentively, unobtrusively glancing at his watch every five minutes. He hoped Peter wasn't going to go into overtime.
He sighed with relief when he finally heard Peter say, "OK, people, let's break for lunch."
"Finally," Neal muttered under his breath. He quickly got up, and headed out, only to be brought up short by Callaway. "Neal. Peter," she nodded to Peter, who was just coming out of the conference room. "I just had a long talk with SAIC Johnson from the Memphis office; he was quite impressed with you two. Good job."
Neal and Peter exchanged a glance. "Thank you."
"Mind walking me through the case?" Callaway motioned them to her office.
Peter smiled. "Sure." With a suppressed sigh, Neal dutifully followed Peter.
*****
It was fifteen minutes after twelve when Neal arrived at the park, breathless. It was the same park where he first met Jen. Even now, in the middle of the day, it was mostly empty, but there were still a few people about: a mother with baby stroller, a couple of older men sitting on the bench, a bored ice-cream vendor, but no Jen. Damn. And he'd been so sure this was the park she'd meant.
It shouldn't be like this. They were meant for each other. She'd come back to him, surely he should know how to find her again.
He was about to turn away when she stepped out from behind a grove of trees. "Not the best idea to keep a girl waiting on your first date."
Neal lifted his hands innocently. "My boss held me up."
"Hm." She kissed him. "You don't seem like the guy who cares about what his boss says."
"I don't. Usually. But these are not usual times." Before Jen could contemplate that further, he reached for her hand. "How about I make it up to you for being late?"
A few minutes later Neal and Jen were sitting on one of the wooden benches, ice cream cones in hand.
"It's been years since I've done this." Jen laughed delightedly.
He grinned at her, but then turned serious. If it were up to Peter, Jen would be in jail right now. And Peter could be extremely single-minded when it came to catching criminals.
Jen noticed the change. "What?"
"Peter is already on the lookout for your bike."
She caught a drip of her cone and licked it off her hand. "Peter?"
"My FBI handler." Neal could feel the ice cream turning bitter in his mouth. Peter was so much more. The FBI agent had been so proud of him in front of Callaway. Not that Neal had ever been accused of being humble, but even he had felt a bit uncomfortable as Peter heaped more and more praise on his partner's shoulders. And now, here he was, sharing an ice cream with the same woman Peter was chasing.
"I see." She didn’t seem concerned. "Well, I already dumped it."
Neal's glance was enough of a question.
"After I realized you're working for the Feds."
"You don't trust me." With all the guilt he felt about going behind Peter's back, he was still surprised.
Jen didn't seem put out by Neal's accusation. "You would have done the same."
Neal had to admit she was right. He finished off his cone and took a look at the time. His lunch break was almost over. He caught an ice-cream drip off her chin and leaned in to kiss her. "Will I see you tonight?"
She smiled mischievously. "I've already got something planned."
"Something interesting?"
She slowly finished off her cone, and gave him a calculated look. "Maybe."
She seemed to enjoy piquing his curiosity. Neal would have probably enjoyed trying to guess, but time was pressing. "What is it?"
"Not something I'm going to tell an FBI snitch."
She'd said it with a smile, but the words still stung. He didn't want Jen to see him as the FBI consultant, the rat who was willing to help the FBI catch other criminals just so he could feel the warm sun on his skin again. He wanted her to see the real him. The Neal who for three years thumbed his nose at the authorities as they chased him around the globe.
"You know.." Neal leaned in closer. "FBI snitches can be very useful."
"Really?" She pulled back and considered him. "Maybe you'll show me someday."
"When will I see you?"
Jen shrugged. "I'll have to lay low for a few days."
The offer was out of his mouth before he could think it through. "Why don't you lay low by me?"
"In the FBI's backyard?" She glanced at him with a raised eyebrow.
Neal grinned. "The best place to be."
Chapter 5