Windstar: This is a little different from my usual gig, and I don't know how long it's going to last. Still, I think I do like the characters so far. This story takes place through a variety of time frames, the most prevalent is an ongoing arc that takes place thirty-three years after season two. Just so everyone is aware, that means that things have changed. They are different. People have grown up, there are new characters, there are new people, it's a different world!

That being said, there are character deaths. Some are obvious: June is not around when she is one-hundred-and-eight. Sorry, but that's not realistic nor is it plausible. It's unavoidable.

Secondly: There are a huge amount of flashbacks and time shifts. They will be clearly marked, but this story takes place after the death of a major character. Because of that, there are a lot of memories and events that are going to be told that lead up to the 'present day' setting. Please keep that in mind.

Thirdly: Seriously, this takes place thirty-three years in the future. There are going to be new characters, and a lot of them. All of the original cast members have a strong presence in this story, but there are OCs. Dodger and Oliver are my characters, and if someone wants to use them or what not that's fine and they can - just please give credit where credit is due. Thanks!

Summary: Neal Caffrey and Peter Burke started out as the thief and the fed. Now their partners and allies. As the years melt away things, some enemies can't be hidden for ever, and some sacrifices are forced to be made. The thing is: Neal never wanted to die, even if he will always be remembered.

Chapter One: The Artful Dodger

The black Lamborghini drove at a moderate pace down the streets. It was a 2008 Estoque, but despite that it still earned heads turning as it drove by. It was hard to not look at the sports car, the sleek shape and shiny rims made it the most interesting thing on the block that was for certain. The windows were tinted, but from the outside looking in it seemed clear that the driver wasn't one of those elderly people who finally raised enough money to put down on their dream car.

Quite the contrary, the driver was relatively young. Some of those who got a good look at the driver (and there weren't many since most were too concentrated on the car itself and couldn't care less about the operator) would scoff and say that he was just a spoiled rich boy. If that was the case though, certainly he could have done better then a car that was thirty-five years old.

There were newer and better looking gas efficient cars out there that everyone was driving these days, and the Estoque certainly wasn't the most distinctive car by any stretch of the imagination. Few who knew much about it though, would question the surprise it had when seeing it. After all, it was a concept car for years, and when it finally was released in 2014; it only sold around four hundred world wide before stopping the line.

The driver continued onwards, either used to or oblivious towards those who were rubber necking to follow his path. The car was gorgeous and he certainly had to have noticed eventually the looks he was getting as he drove, but it didn't seem to effect him any.

He flicked his directional on and made a smooth turn onto Lafayette Street. He continued on in that fashion until he was just passing through the federal plaza, then he stopped. Pulling into a parking spot that conveniently was available not too far away from his destination, he shifted into park and hesitated for a moment in the vehicle.

He glanced towards the front seat where a black, brown, and white dog was sitting quite comfortably on the floor, and he sighed slightly. "You think they'll even let me in the building?" He asked softly. The dog didn't reply, but he did sit up some to get a better look around. Seemingly uninterested in what he saw he flopped back down in his spot and gave his owner a bored look. "Yeah, you're a lot of help." Sighing though, he cracked the windows just a bit, and gave the dog a scratch behind the years. "I'll be back in ten minutes, keep an eye on Elise alright?" The dog licked his fingers and he pulled he keys from the ignition.

Opening the door he slipped outside and locked it before heading into the twenty-sixth building. Walking inside he signed in as a visitor and headed towards the elevator that would take him the rest of the way in his journey. He had recognized the security guard, Bobby, and the man had let him by without so much as a question or a bat of the eye. He simply mentioned it had been a while and it was good to have him back.

He didn't say anything about that though, and shifted on by without much of a response. As he waited in the elevator, alone, he couldn't help but notice just how poorly he was dressed and his mind instantly went to the list of possible reactions that he'd gain from it. Bobby hadn't commented, but he probably wouldn't. He was a nice man and kept his thoughts to himself half the time.

Still, he certainly wasn't as presentable as usual, and he was suddenly overcome with the intense urge to just hide in the elevator and take the next one down. He didn't want to finish this trip. It was too much too fast. Never mind the fact it had been over six months since the last time he'd been here, never mind the fact that it had taken weeks of talking with his Uncle until he was finally coerced into returning...it was still too fast.

The doors opened before he made up his mind though, and as he looked across the hall to the other elevator, he knew that he didn't have much of a choice. He'd probably get caught on his way out anyway. Besides, when had he ever been a coward? Taking a deep breath, he stepped out into the hall, and glanced awkwardly into the large office space that extended out past the glass doors.

Moving forwards, past the sign that signified this space as the White Collar division of the FBI, he kept his face as calm as possible and made it to the first desk there. It was a young woman that he had known for a few years now named Madeline. She was nice enough and smart enough he supposed, but he never cared much for her or anything else. She was simply very good at paperwork and getting things done on the book keeping end.

She looked up and stared at him in stunned surprise, and he forced himself to smile slightly at her. It was an expression that hadn't come easily since...what had happened. He did attempt though, and she could see that clearly enough. Her eyes became awash with sadness as she looked at him though, and the familiar hatred of pitying and the like suddenly overcame him. He forced himself to swallow the emotion though.

"Good morning Madeline, how are you?" She looked at him for a moment, her mouth opening and closing in such surprise that it took her a moment to reply.

"I'm fine, Dodge, what are you doing here?"

"Is Ollie in?" He asked as quickly as he could, feeling the irrational urge to turn and run as fast as he could.

"Agent Burke is in his office, the director is here as well." That wasn't exactly expected, and he winced ever so slightly. He wasn't sure how he felt about seeing both of them so soon. Still, he knew he had to get over this, he knew he had to move on.

"Thanks." He started to head through the office space towards the office at the top of the stairs. It had been so long since he'd last been there, but these steps were memorized. He'd played on them as a child, and he'd grown up under the tutelage of the FBI and all those who were involved with them. This was as much a second home to him as anything else, and he'd separated himself from it for far to long. At least, that's what his Uncle kept telling him.

He took a deep breath before ascending the stairs and peering in through the glass walls to look at the man he'd long considered a best friend. He was the youngest leader of a division in the FBI yet, and yet he had one of the best closed case ratio of anyone around. He was brilliant at what he did, which was probably the result of also growing up on the curtails of the FBI since he was a child.

He took a deep breath and moved forward, knocking awkwardly on the door and waiting for a response. He was slightly happy about the fact that the Agent couldn't see him from where he was (shamefully) hiding behind the wooden structure. Still, he knew it wouldn't last long.

"Yeah, come on in." He took a deep breath, before slowly pushing the door open and looking at the man before him in awkward silence. He took a moment to look up, he was pouring over some document or other, but when he hadn't said anything he glanced to see who'd entered, and froze.

Agent Oliver Burke had never been too good at hiding his emotions or keeping a straight face. He was terrible at poker and lying and he was awful at doing anything that had to do with deception. That was the only thing that really held him back as he was rising through the ranks of the FBI. This was no exception to the rule.

Looking at the tall dark haired man in his doorway, all of his emotions flushed to his face and he looked completely flabbergasted. He didn't seem to know what to say in the least and so he took to simply gaping at the figure as it shifted awkwardly.

"I...Leo's watching Elise, so I can't stay long, but I thought I'd let you know I was back in town." The darker haired man mumbled slightly as he moved his weight from one foot to another. His words seemed to shake the Agent from his revere because suddenly he was on his feet.

"Where the hell have you been?" He moved around his desk and made his way towards the slimmer and much lankier man that was still standing firmly in the doorway. Oliver glanced past him to see the entire bullpen looking up at them and he tugged the other farther in the room so he could shut the door.

"Around."

"'Around?' It's been six months Dodger! We've been looking for you everywhere! Did Mozzie help your vanishing act or was that one all on you?"

"A bit of both I guess, I didn't mean to make you worry."

"Worry? Dodge, you tried to kill someone!"

"I didn't kill him." His tone changed sharply, and his eyes narrowed towards the Agent. He knew he should have come. He knew this was a bad idea. He should have just left and never come back, he should never have attempted to get redemption or family restituted.

"You brought a gun into an interrogation room and threatened him." It was a weak amendment on Burke's part and the scorn was still there. "Dad had to cover for you, and then you vanished and completely through egg on his face. What on earth was going through your head?"

"Wilkes murdered my father, I was thinking of blowing his brains out Ollie."

"Why didn't you?" The words were soft spoken and almost subdued. For a moment, the dark haired man could see the best friend he'd known and loved for years. The Agent dissipated into the person he'd always considered a younger brother, and he thought back to that day to try to recall the exact emotion that was coursing through him when he had that gun aimed at Ryan Wilkes's face.

"Dad didn't like guns...he didn't like violence...he wouldn't have killed Wilkes." Oliver rolled his eyes.

"If you had been killed instead of him, Neal would have shot him and you know it. He may not have liked guns, but he did try to get revenge when it suited him. Why didn't you shoot Wilkes?" Dodge sighed slightly and ran a hand over his eyes.

"I don't know. I didn't come here to talk about what happened."

"Six months ago you up and left without a word to anyone and you thought you could come back here without saying anything about what happened?" The Agent raised his eyebrows and crossed his arms over his chest. "DJ, your father was shot and killed right in front of you, you went to avenge his death, you didn't do it, and you vanished for six months. I think there's a lot that you should talk about." The older man shook his head.

"Not now. I don't want to talk about it right now." Silence filled the room. Neither said anything for a long while. Oliver leaned back against his desk and got a good look at his best friend and companion. They'd grown up together, and he'd even been named accordingly.

He had always suspected that it was a bit of harmless planning behind his father's back that got him named Oliver. He could actually envision it now. His Uncle Neal and his mother sitting around for a cup of coffee one morning while Dodger was playing on the floor, and suddenly Neal turning and teasing her that she should name her son Oliver Twist. Somehow his father had gone along with it and there they were, the modern day Artful Dodger with his friend Ollie. His father could never deny his mother anything, and the name had to have stuck.

He'd long since heard his father's rendition on how Dodge had gotten his name though, and it wasn't hard to realize earlier on that between the two of them: Dodge definitely had the cooler father. How often do you get to hear first hand accounts of art thieves and forgeries? There was certainly a fair amount of embellishment he was certain.

They grew up on stories about Neal's capers and his father's attempts to catch him. They had been raised on the lives of their parents and how they had formed an unusual partnership. The history between their two families was rich with detail and so many fun memories. It was hard to distract yourself from the past and the present.

Dodger was three years older then Oliver, and Ollie remembered always thinking that he got away with murder half the time. His father liked to remind him when it was convenient that Neal had the maturity level of a twelve year old and that DJ only got away with it because Neal didn't see any fault in the situation. Needless to say, Ollie spent a great amount of time over at the Caffrey residence and all but begged Neal to adopt him on occasion.

They grew up pretty well though, their childhood being one of fun and entertainment. They were quite possibly the most loved children in the country, and it showed. They were spoiled and doted upon and their parents loved them more then anything else in the world. Ollie couldn't have asked for a better situation.

It was Dodger who had all the bad luck though. For as fun and as loving as Neal was, he was a criminal in his past life. He had enemies and sometimes they came back to haunt them. Like when Keller came and tried to talk to DJ while he was walking home from school. Or when his mother was killed in a hit and run accident. Or when his father was shot to death by the man suspected of murdering his mother.

There were other instances, and other times, all of which the Burkes had been there for the Caffreys. It just turned out that things never went the way that they wanted them to go. After Neal had been killed, everything seemed to have changed.

Dodge no longer came around, and then he was just gone. Six months had passed and it was hard for Oliver to look at the Artful Dodger and not see the obvious signs of change that had occurred in his brother over the separation.

He had most certainly had lost weight. His hair was longer then it had been in ages, his clothes were unkempt. He hadn't shaved in a few days. He looked tired and hungry and just plain down trodden. He'd lost the one person he'd cared about more then anything else in the world, and he couldn't get the revenge that he'd wanted. For some reason, something had held him back. Maybe that was worse. Maybe that was much worse.

Oliver sighed heavily, and ran a hand through his hair. "Where are you staying the night?" He asked softly after a while. The other shrugged.

"I was gonna stop by Grandma's, see if Cindy would let me in..." He rubbed his arm self consciously. That had been another harsh blow to their family. When June had died. She had been such a pivitol part of their family structure and their upbringing that when the kindly woman finally passed nothing seemed like it'd be right for a while.

Oliver could clearly remember the defeated look that was on his impenetrable Uncle's face as he wept openly for the loss of his beloved landlady. The woman had taken him in when he'd had nothing and had loved, cared, and helped him and those he considered family for years. Her death had come about when DJ had been eighteen. At ninety-three years old, the old woman had finally said her last goodbyes.

Her home had been left to Neal and her eldest granddaughter, Cindy. After Neal had passed though...Dodge had never been back. As far as Oliver knew, there was no one living in the mansion now. Cindy didn't want to stay there any longer. She said the house had always been more of Neal's home then anyone else's, and she didn't feel comfortable staying there when it was only her.

"No one's there anymore. Come on home with me, we can head to June's tomorrow and open the place up if you like." The other winced ever so slightly.

"She's okay though...right?"

"Cindy? She's fine, she just didn't want to stay there anymore with you to look after, you big blockhead. I think she moved in with her husband and they're trying to work out their marriage. I don't know though. Come on man, it's a big house. You don't really want to stay there by yourself tonight do you? Mom's making a pot-roast, let's go back to their place eat some dinner you can spend the night and we can open up June's on Saturday."

Dodger was silent for a long while, before sighing and nodding. "Fine. I should get going though, before I get an animal cruelty report on Leo down there. Do you think Aunt El and Uncle Peter will mind him being here?"

"Leo's fine, you know how they love to have him. You can ask dad yourself though, he is just down the hall." Ollie motioned to his right, and DJ glanced in the general direction of the office.

"I don't know what to say to him."

"Say you're sorry. That usually helps." The darker haired man just shook his head.

"How do I tell him I'm sorry that I didn't murder someone in front of him?"

"Man, Neal was his best friend. He knew you were grieving, he doesn't blame you. He wanted to shoot Wilkes himself. Trust me, it'll be fine. Come on, go talk to him. I can go with you if you want?" Dodge was already shaking his head though.

"I've distracted you enough for one day, thanks for the offer though, but you should get back to work." Oliver shrugged.

"If you walk out that door...am I going to see you again?" DJ tilted his head slightly.

"Yeah, I'll meet you at your parents' at seven or so. I'm going to go see your dad...see ya Ollie." The younger man nodded ever so slightly, and waved him off. He watched in silence as his friend opened the door and slipped out. The bullpen glanced towards them once more, but he ignored their looks and just kept his eyes on the retreating back of the man he'd long since considered an older brother.

This uncertain person didn't resemble the friend he'd grown up with. He'd known the other for thirty years, they'd spent every spare moment with each other. Never before had he seen his friend so completely unsure of what path it was he was supposed to take now.

He'd always known how dependent Dodge had been on his father. It wasn't hard to see why either. DJ had been just across the street when the black van had come out of no where and slammed into his mother. He watched as she slowly bled to death, broken and bloody in the street. Dodger had only been seven or eight, and Ollie personally couldn't remember exactly what had happened after the accident.

He'd been too young to recall the details, but he did know that ever since the moment that DJ had witnessed the death of his mother, he'd clung to his father's side like glue. Neal had always let him and had never once chastised or tried to get him to stop. He probably encouraged it, and it was obvious that he didn't mind spending time with his son.

Now though, DJ had witnessed both his mother and his father's deaths. This time he didn't have anyone he could cling onto. He was just as lost and confused as anyone else, and he was having a hard time getting his feet back on the ground. Ollie could only hope that the planted firmly sooner rather then later, because he honestly didn't want to attend the funeral of his best friend any time soon.