Chapter Text
It was mid-morning, and Neal was enjoying a leisurely stroll through the busy streets of New York City. He'd picked up a paper by the vendor, and now he stopped by a sidewalk cafe and ordered something to drink. He figured he's catch up with Mozzie at his regular spot.
Until his coffee came along, he opened the paper. He's been out for close to half a year now, but he still couldn't get past the small joys of sitting down to eat whenever and wherever he felt like it, enjoying the warmth of the sun at his back, the throng of people passing by on the sidewalk, the-
"Well, well, well. If it isn't Neal Caffrey."
His little ritual of Thanksgiving was rudely interrupted by the appearance of agents Berrigan and Jones. Neal wondered how long they've been following him. The two agents closed around him, ensuring he couldn't make a run for it. Not that he intended to.
"If it isn't Burke's minions. Again." Neal folded the paper over and dropped it on the table as he graciously waved them to sit down. "Don't you have better things to do on such a fine day, than be out harassing the innocent residents of our fair city?"
Diana scowled at that as she took a chair. She reached over to flip the paper open. It was the New York Times Arts section. "I wouldn't say innocent."
"I've done my time. Paid my debt to society. I'm just like every other New Yorker now."
The female agent rolled her eyes. "Hardly. You're an ex-con."
"And we're not so sure about that ex part," Jones added as he pulled out a chair too.
It was a game Neal would have preferred not playing today. The FBI had not given him a moment's peace since his release. They were constantly showing up at the most inopportune moments, calling in him for interrogations, leaking his name and picture to journalists. But it didn't seem as though he had any choice.
He made a show of looking around. "Where's Peter? Or is he parked around the corner?"
He didn't get an answer. Instead Jones glared at him. "This is not a social call, Caffrey. The Met's going to open a new Renaissance exhibit next week."
"I've seen the ads." Neal gestured towards the paper on the table. "Though I'm sure Peter didn't send you here to update me on-" His phone started ringing. "Excuse me."
It was Mozzie, and before Neal could say anything he broke into a rant. "Neal! You brought suits to *my* cafe!! Suits, Neal!" Neal was sure the feds on the other side of the table could hear Mozzie perfectly well. "Where am I going to-"
Neal shut the phone with a quick "sorry, got to go," and turned back to the two agents with a smile. "So, you were saying about the exhibit?"
Diana picked up the conversational thread. "We know you visited the museum recently, Caffrey."
Neal shrugged it off with another smile. "Is that a crime?"
"It is for you, the museum's got a restraining order against you. You could go back to jail for this."
Another innocent shrug. "It's a crime to live in this great city and spend Sundays at home."
"You can go to the park." Jones pointed out.
"I'm sure you didn't come here to discuss my recreational habits."
Jones smiled a tight smile. "No, we came here to tell you that we're watching you."
They were interrupted by the waitress, who put a steaming mug of coffee in front of Neal. "Your cappuccino, Sir."
Neal thanked her with a smile. The waitress smiled back, then turned to the two agents. "Can I get you anything?" They didn't.
The waitress walked off to attend to the next table over, drawing Neal's attention after her. Diana shook her head. "Did you tell her where you spent the past four years, Caffrey?"
Neal replied with a flippant "I'm not sure it's come up in conversation yet." It seemed the two agents had something to say about everything he did, and he didn't appreciate the attitude. It reminded him too much of his prison days. He reached for the paper, fully intending to get back to reading it. "Now, if you'll excuse me, my coffee's getting cold."
Diana smacked the paper down. "We know you were checking out the Met. You go after that exhibit, we'll make sure you're put away for a long, long time."
"You think I'm going to.. " Neal looked positively hurt by the accusations. "All this because I visited a museum?"
Diana looked like she had run all out of patience. "All this because you're an art thief, Caffrey, and it's obvious your little jail stint wasn't enough." She got up, an unspoken signal for Jones to do the same. "Remember, we're watching you."
"Wait. Ok, look.. " Neal leaned forward with a conspiratorial whisper, forcing the two agents to lean down to catch his words. "Maybe I did hear talk of a hit going down next week." He straightened up. "I could help you catch them."
Jones looked as skeptical as he sounded. "You want to *help* us?"
"I'm a law-abiding citizen." Neal held out his hands in a gesture of innocence.
"Right." Diana looked him up and down. "Why didn't you report this to the police."
"I don't like police stations."
"You like the FBI offices better?"
"You've made it clear I'm your main suspect. And I'd really like to avoid hours of interrogation this time around." He paused to emphasize his next words. "I'd like to stop this crime just as much as you do."
The feds exchanged a look. "Come down to the bureau tomorrow morning. And you better have real intel."
Neal smiled. "I'd never lie to you."
Jones snorted.
Neal waited till they disappeared down the street before he picked up his paper, dropped a bill on the table and left the cafe, leaving his coffee untouched. This time he made sure he wasn't being followed.
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Mozzie caught up with him a few blocks down, and he was not happy. "What were you thinking?!? That cafe's burned. I'm going to have to reschedule my Wednesdays now."
Neal glanced at his friend with an indulgent smile. "We've got other problems, Moz. The FBI thinks I'm going to hit the new Renaissance exhibit at the Met."
That stopped Mozzie in his tracks. He gave a quick look around to make sure nobody was eavesdropping before he whispered, "We *are* going to hit it. Why do they.. " He trailed off, and before Neal could answer his unspoken question, he realized the answer. "They caught you casing the museum."
"Peter's good." Neal was willing to give him that.
"I told you it was risky. Neal, I've already got a buyer!" Mozzie was quickly moving into panic mode again. "And he's not going to be happy if we pull out now."
"We don't have to pull out."
"And.. and what, we're going to go in with a suit target on our backs?"
"No." Neal grinned, enjoying the moment. "We get the FBI to steal it for us."