A/N: Thanks for the comments. I'm trying to write this whenever I get some time and inspiration. Obviously, my continuity with the show breaks off after the second episode, Threads.

"This is where you live, Lysette?" Peter asked. He didn't know why he bothered to be surprised. Where else would Neal Caffery's child live but a big Victorian pile directly on the sound that looked like the setting of some movie about modern princesses?

"No, silly. Auntie Em lives here. We lives in the back," Lysette answered. "Want to see Auntie Em."

"You have any clue who Auntie Em might be?" Peter directed the question at Neal.

Neal shook his head slowly. "Kate, for obvious reasons, distanced herself from her family. I never heard of an Auntie Em."

Peter wasn't all that surprised that Kate kept secrets from Neal. Hell, she kept a whole human being a secret. He approached the door after getting Neal to agree that it would be safer for Lysette if they stayed in the car.

A well dressed woman in her late forties, with gleaming long dark hair answered the door. "May I help you?"

Peter flipped out his badge. "Peter Burke, FBI. There is a little girl…"

"Lysette? Is Lysette all right? What about Kate?"

After an emotional reunion, Lysette went off to eat cookies. "My name is Mary Welles. It used to be Mariska Ivanov."

"You are Kate's aunt?" Neal asked. Mary nodded.

"I got away from my family when Katya was still a baby, but I tried to keep in touch, to make sure she was all right. When Kate broke away we saw each other more often. We had to do it quietly, we were both trying to keep under the radar of my brother.

"When Kate realized she was pregnant she was desperate. Try not to be angry at her for deceiving you, Neal. She was petrified. She didn't know what you would do if you found out and she was trying to keep off Aleksandr's map. That's when she came to me. My firm has an office in London. We used that as a cover."

"Lysette wasn't born in London?" Neal asked.

'She was born right here," Mary answered. "It was torture for Kate to be so close to you and not be able to see you. As soon as the baby was born and Kate was able to drive she went to see you."

"She looked exhausted and red eyed. She said it was because she came straight from the plane."

Mary nodded. "It was a hard year. We thought it best if she and the baby lived out here. My housekeeper is trust-worthy and could help her with Lyssie, she was close enough to visit you, and close to enough to put in appearances in her old life."

"So what happened?"

Mary's mouth narrowed. "Aleksandr's lackeys realized something was off, that Kate's life didn't make sense. They must've followed her back here, told Aleks about Lysette. God knows how long he sat on the information before he snatched Lyssie to make Kate do his bidding."

"When he snatched them why didn't you do something?" Neal asked. His voice was cold, Peter thought, colder than he'd ever heard it. "Did you ever think of what could be happening to them?"

"Of course I thought," Mary snapped back. "I've been working every contact I had to get them both back safely. How did you end up with Lysette and not Kate?"

"Apparently Kate caused a distraction to help Lysette escape. She taught Lysette to ask a police officer to contact me," Peter said.

Mary reached into a side drawer and produced keys. "You will need some things for Lysette. I'm sure she can show you the path down to the cottage."

Kate pressed a hand against her mouth to insure that she wouldn't accidentally make a sound as Aleks pressed the dagger closer to her throat. He needn't have bothered. She'd calculated the odds. Burke would be packing, but she doubted the FBI was letting Neal carry heat, not that he was much good with guns anyway. Mary kept a gun in the console table, but she couldn't see well enough to judge when Mary was near it. It would be Burke against Aleks until Aleks' goons burst in. There was far to great a chance that Lysette would be caught in the crossfire. Or Neal.

It had been four years since she heard Neal's voice out in the open like that, not over the stupid phone at the prison. She swore she could smell the sandlewood scent of him, her hand pressing against the wood of her temporary prison unconsciously. And Lysette. Her heart tugged as she heard Lyssie run into the room and assure Neal and Burke she could lead them to the cottage. Her bright little girl. The plan had worked; Lyssie was safe and with her father.

Some crazy part of her wanted to laugh. Although she had indulged in happily ever after daydreams of a couture clad Caffery family living happily ever after, she'd always planned on a breaking in period. She couldn't quite imagine Neal coping with fatherhood. Hopefully that mansion he conned himself into came complete with maid service.

"This it," Lysette announced unnecessarily as they arrived at the small clapboard cottage. A room that ran the width of the cottage served as kitchen, dining, and living room. A glassed in porch held shelves of sewing equipment. Three doors lined the back wall of the room; Lysette's room, bathroom, Kate's room.

It was a wreck. Cushions were off the sofa, sewing supplies were tossed from the shelves, kitchen supplies littered the floor. Someone had tossed the place in a hurry. "Mommy be mad," Lysette sad sadly.

Seeing that Neal was in a Kate induced coma and therefore what be of no use, Peter searched a closet until he found a stash of canvas shopping bags. "Here you go, sweetheart. Why don't you get some more toys? You'll get bored with just lion to play with."

Any clue Kate might've left him was lost in this disaster, Neal thought. He opened her closet and took down two suitcases, then thought again and headed back for the kitchen.

"What are you looking for," Peter asked as Neal ripped through the cabinets until he found a stack of cookbooks, until he found a late 1950s edition of the red and white checkered Better Homes and Gardens book.

A yellowed piece of paper fell out, along with a manilla envelope.

" 4-19-58

My darling,

Last night was lovely. A perfect kind of old New York night; I almost expected we'd have to go to a speakeasy for a cocktail! And while your choice of a place for a nightcap was unexpected, what a treat to see Senator Kennedy enjoying a cheeseburger. You would think that the noise of the street outside would be overwhelming, but I could hear everything perfectly. Soon I'll be back in Sycamore, but I'll forever be yours."

"Did the note come with the book?" Peter asked.

"It's a clue," Neil answered, distracted for a moment. "She left us a phone number. 212-794-1958."

He knew he was going to regret asking. "How did you get that, exactly?"

"Old New York. What's the classic New York area code?"

"212," Peter answered.

"Sycamore is an old telephone exchange, 79. And the rest of the number is the date," Neal kept staring at the note. "Peter, the Howard Johnsons on Time Square is closed, isn't it?"

"Howard Johnsons?" Peter asked. "Oh, JFK's favorite cheeseburger. I get that one. Question, Neal, do you and Kate ever communicate by simply saying what you mean?"

Neal gave him a half smile. "Sometimes."

"Well, she has a notarized document in here stating that you are Lysette's father and giving you custody should she be unable to attend to Lysette. Very practical."

Peter helped Lysette back into her car seat as Neal came out carrying two suitcases.

"Lysette has that many clothes?" Peter asked.

"Kate will need things when she gets back," Neal answered. Peter didn't tell his de facto partner that he had a feeling the chances of Kate coming back were growing slimmer.

"You little fool," Aleksandr spat at Kate as they stood in Mariska's living room. "You have brought the FBI down on us all, for what? Love of a gigolo?"

Kate seethed. "It's your inability to run a simple con that has endangered us all," she spat back. "You aren't half the man my grandfather was."

The snap of flesh against flash happened so quickly no one actually saw it; suddenly Kate simply was flying through the air, only coming to rest when her head struck the side of the coffee table.

All she knew for a moment was color and sound, and then a rush a feeling like a freight train crashed down on her head. The taste of iron filled her mouth. Somewhere, her aunt was screaming. She pushed up on her hands and struggled to her feet, unwilling to let her uncle see her flinch.

"Watch yourself, Katya," Aleks said and left the room, "You have much to lose.". Kate allowed her knees to buckle as Mary drug her towards the sofa.

That bastard was going down, Kate thought. She'd show him the definition of family.