Notes: Although this story is part of a series, it can stand on its own. In the pre-series Caffrey Conversation AU created by Penna Nomen, Peter recruited Neal in 2003 when he was 24. In exchange for a confession and help in recovering stolen items, he was given immunity for past crimes and started working for the FBI as a consultant. Readers new to this AU may wish to refer to the notes at the end of this chapter for additional background information. An Evening with Genji takes place in the winter of 2004 after The Queen's Jewels. Neal is working as a consultant at the White Collar Division of the FBI while attending his first semester at Columbia University for a dual master's in art.

Chapter 1: Clouds of Gold

Federal Building. November 30, 2004. Tuesday midday.

Something was going to drop.

On his way back to the bullpen, Special Agent Peter Burke spotted Neal Caffrey, full-time FBI consultant, part-time Columbia grad student and now juggler badly in need of assistance, exiting the elevator. Neal was carrying an oversized evidence box in front of him, shopping bags dangling from both arms, while a garment bag was slung precariously over his shoulder and in imminent peril of falling to the ground.

"Training to be a packhorse?" Peter asked, rescuing the garment bag from his shoulder.

"I didn't realize the evidence box was going to be this bulky—or this heavy—when I offered to pick it up," Neal replied with a groan. "NYPD must have stuffed it with iron ingots. Next time I'll let the courier handle it."

"Character-building," Peter said as he dropped the bag off on Neal's desk. "We make all probies carry their share of evidence boxes around the city. Now you won't feel like you missed out on one of life's great experiences." Peter pointed to the garment bag. "Is this . . .?"

"Yes," he said, his face brightening, "along with these other boxes. It was ready yesterday, but this was my first chance to pick it up."

"And just in time. El showed me an article about the gala in the society column this morning. Quite the affair."

"What's this about a gala? Going high society on us, Caffrey?" Agent Diana Berrigan had strolled over and couldn't resist the opportunity to rib her favorite target. "Don't tell me the FBI is subsidizing your attendance."

"No need," Neal said smugly. "You remember Keiko from Thanksgiving?"

"Sure, she and Aidan sat with Christie and me at dinner."

"Her father is one of the powers that be at Azuma Bank. They're holding a gala tonight at the Plaza Hotel to celebrate the return of a pair of seventeenth century Japanese screens. Keiko gave Fiona and me tickets."

"Are these The Tale of Genji screens that were recovered last month in Boston?" she asked.

"That's right. They'll be placed on permanent display at the bank. The gala is a benefit for Japan Society."

Diana picked up the newspaper on Neal's desk and pulled out the Arts section. "Hmm… 'An Evening with Genji. Azuma Bank will host a benefit gala of unparalleled elegance at the Plaza Hotel which promises to be the social highlight of the season.' Not bad, Caffrey. Oh, listen to this: 'The sumptuous screens portray scenes from the life of the eleventh century Japanese courtier Genji. Strikingly attractive, Genji was a master of the arts and a great lover.' " Diana eyed Neal speculatively. "So, is Genji your role model?"

"I'm merely practicing due diligence," Neal said earnestly. "The gala will provide excellent job training. I need to be able to project the correct panache when I'm undercover as the idle rich."

"What about when you go undercover as a sanitation engineer? Don't you need to research that? The sidewalk outside my apartment could use extra help."

Peter smiled and withdrew upstairs as Neal and Diana continued to tease each other. This was Neal's first full week back at work after an attempted frame attempt had nearly ended his career at the FBI, and Peter was pleased at how quickly he'd adjusted back to the White Collar routine. Neal wasn't even complaining about the paperwork. In a few short weeks they'd leave for Hawaii where Peter's brother Joe would marry Neal's aunt Noelle over Christmas. In the meantime, Peter was confident that a normal caseload would smooth out any lingering rough patches from November.

WCWCWCWCWCWCWC

Neal splurged on a taxi for the ride to his apartment in June Ellington's mansion. Attempting to ride the subway with all his purchases was not the way to start the evening. When he arrived home, he found June in the living room. Neal stopped to greet her before heading upstairs.

"When do you need to leave?" she asked. "Will I have time to see you?"

"I wouldn't leave without having you sign off," he assured her and dashed upstairs to make the transformation. Thirty minutes later, showered and changed, Neal walked back down the stairs and struck a pose for June in the foyer.

She stood back and appraised the look for a long minute before proclaiming, "You were born to wear a tux."

"You approve, then?'' he asked, flashing a wide grin.

"It fits you perfectly. Ralph Lauren?"

"Calvin Klein. June, I can't thank you enough," Neal said, kissing her cheek. "It's beyond a doubt the most magnificent Christmas present I've ever received. And thank you for not making me wait till Christmas to open it."

"With your aunt Noelle's wedding coming up, there's no need to wait, and I'm especially glad you have it in time for the gala tonight. Byron always said that a man needs to own a minimum of one tuxedo." June stepped back with a smile. "He liked to wear one when we went out dancing. Seeing you in one brings back happy memories."

"I'm a poor substitute, but you'll have to let me have the honor of taking you out some evening."

"That will be a pleasure, sir." June said. "In the meantime, we need to toast your new tux. Do you have time for a cocktail?"

"Of course." Neal accompanied her into the living room and walked over to the carved oak wet bar. "What can I make you?" he asked. "Your standard?"

"Please," she said, sinking into a velvet sofa, "and put on some music. You know what I like."

Neal walked over to the stereo system and inserted a Frank Sinatra CD. While Frank crooned "The Good Life," Neal prepared two martinis and offered her a glass. "To you, June. And thank you for allowing me to borrow your Jaguar tonight. Not only are you supplying the threads but also the wheels."

"There's no reason to let it languish in the garage," she said, taking a sip of her drink. "Tell me more about this gala you're attending and, more to the point, about your date. I haven't heard much about Fiona."

"She's from London, studying part time for her master's in art history like me. By day, she works at Weatherby's auction house."

June tapped her forefinger impatiently on the arm of the chair. "All very well, but I need more than her resume. Tell me about Fiona the person. Paint me a picture."

Neal put his glass down on the side table. "How about an Impressionistic rendering? Her hair is the color of the finest flaxen honey. She has the nose of an elf-maiden on a spring night, eyes the color of Irish moss under a brilliant sun . . . Shall I go on?"

June nodded in satisfaction. "That's much better. You should bring her over sometime so I can meet her."

"That's a promise."

"And who's escorting Keiko?"

"Aidan. The two of them have become very close. Aidan's also studying for his master's in art. I've mentioned him to you—he's my fencing partner."

"Ah yes, he's the one who refuses to wear a tie, isn't he? How will he manage on such a formal occasion?"

"Honestly, I don't know." Neal shrugged. "It will be a true test of his affection for Keiko. She came to me last week for assistance in persuading him not to wear his hoodie. I wound up fencing him to determine whether he had to listen to our advice."

"Do I need to ask who won?"

"Perhaps he lost to save face? In any case, he's now resigned to wearing a tux."

"The Plaza should be resplendent at Christmas time. Byron and I attended many a charity ball there. The decorations were magnificent." June put her glass down and gazed off in the distance, her expression softening.

Neal pictured her and Byron waltzing on the ballroom floor, a big band playing in the background. "The two of us should go there. We could go to the Rose Club at the Plaza. They have live jazz on Tuesday nights." He grinned mischievously. "Or would you rather have afternoon tea at the Palm Court?"

"Oh no, I'm much more a mellow jazz woman than a tea sipper. You're on, Mr. Caffrey."

The Plaza Hotel. November 30, 2004. Tuesday evening.

As the parking valet whisked away June's Jaguar, Neal and Fiona walked up the red-carpeted stairs and through the opulent entrance into the Plaza Hotel. "You look radiant," Neal told Fiona and he wasn't overstating it. She was wearing a gold-beaded mesh cocktail dress which set off her blonde hair. With the heels she was wearing, she was almost as tall as him. "That emerald necklace is spectacular."

Her eyes dancing, she said, "I thought you'd appreciate it. Mr. Branson at Weatherby's let me borrow it for the occasion. And may I add, you look positively smashing."

He shrugged casually. "Just something I pulled out of my closet."

"In that case, you must let me inspect your closet sometime."

They'd arrived at the Plaza to find the gala in full swing. Neal gazed appreciatively around the hotel. This was a lifestyle he could get used to. When he pulled up at the Plaza in June's Jaguar, it felt like he and Fiona had stepped into a fantasy land. The Terrace Room shone brilliantly, the light from the crystal chandeliers reflecting off a thousand smaller tapers. The hall was ablaze with a kaleidoscope of elegantly attired women, some of whom wore kimonos. It was as if the attendees were floating among clouds of gold like the scenes from The Tale of Genji on the screens.

The only comparable event Neal had ever been to was one at Cannes. That had been a few years ago, and he'd attended with an ulterior motive. The jewels he was seeing on the women now would have made the old Neal's eyes gleam with anticipation. In his new incarnation, he would refrain himself to simply admiring them and not calculate their value.

Neal took a couple of martinis from the silver tray of a passing waiter, and they proceeded to stroll among the well-heeled.

"I've never been anywhere so grand," Fiona murmured to Neal. "Was Keiko able to talk Aidan into wearing a tux? He's going to feel out of place otherwise."

"She and I both had to work on him. You know how he feels about her, but Aidan considers formal attire to be jeans without holes in them. The trump card was when Keiko said her father would be offended unless he wore a tux. Aidan hasn't met him yet and is already stressing."

"Neal?"

At hearing his name being called, Neal stopped and spun around. "Sara!" he exclaimed.

"Sara!" Fiona joined the chorus, greeting Sara as if they were old friends. "This is a pleasant surprise."

"What are you doing here?" They all said at once and burst out laughing.

"You start, Sara," said Neal. He hadn't seen her for over a month, not since she'd moved away to London.

"I'm here representing Sterling-Bosch. We were the insurers for the screens and facilitated their recovery." She slanted her head, giving Neal the once over, a smile on her lips. "You're looking very James Bond tonight, and Fiona, you could be out of Goldfinger. I love your dress."

"How do you two know each other?" Neal asked.

"Sterling-Bosch handles the insurance for Weatherby's," Fiona said. "We became friends when we worked together on insuring some of the more valuable items put up for auction. Now it's your turn, Neal. Where did you two meet?"

"Sara used to work at the same company as my cousin Henry. We met last spring." Neal turned to face Sara. "I thought you were still working in London."

"I am, but Sterling-Bosch brings us back for quarterly meetings. When this came up—"

"You must introduce me to your friends, Sara." A man had walked up, carrying two glasses of wine. Tall with light brown hair, he had a rugged look and athletic build which Neal supposed some women would find attractive. Was this Sighin' Bryan, the guy Sara was dating?

"Fiona, Neal, this is Bryan McKenzie. He works with me at Sterling-Bosch."

Fiona introduced herself to Bryan. "I've seen you at Weatherby's, but we haven't had a chance to talk."

"Neal Caffrey, a pleasure." Neal offered a particularly gracious smile as he shook hands.

"So you're Neal Caffrey, the FBI's new wunderkind. Sara's told me about you." Bryan looked to be about ten years older than Sara. Last summer she'd made a big deal out of the fact that she was a whole six months older than Neal. Apparently she had a hang-up about dating younger men. No worries with Bryan on that score.

"Fiona, how do you and Neal know each other?" Sara asked.

"We're both pursuing master's degrees at Columbia and are taking the same seminar."

As they were talking, Keiko approached with Aidan. "May we join the party?"

Keiko had chosen to wear a long black chiffon dress with a bolero dove-gray jacket, a far cry from the Bohemian grunge attire she normally dressed in at Columbia. Aidan was fidgeting uncomfortably in a rented tux. What had he done to his tie to mess it up so badly? Neal sighed. He should have recommended a clip-on after all.

When the others began discussing how the screens were recovered, he pulled Aidan aside. "You want my help with the bow tie malfunction?"

"Bad?" Aidan passed a hand over his red hair as if smoothing it would help the tie.

This was not the time to be kind. Keiko's father could show up any moment. "Grotesque is not too strong a word."

"I can't help it. The collar's cutting off my breathing," he complained, yanking at the offending shirt. "How do people stand these things?"

"You're supposed to cowboy up," Neal said pointedly. "Here, let me help." A couple of swift manipulations later and he nodded with satisfaction. "Remember, this is for Keiko. Hands off the tie," he added as Keiko mouthed a silent thank you in appreciation.

The emergency repair proved to be timely since it wasn't long before Neal noticed a distinguished-looking man, impeccably tailored in formal tails, approaching them. "En garde," he muttered to Aidan and nodded in the man's direction.

Swallowing, Aidan squared his shoulders as Keiko said, "All, I'd like to present my father, Atsuo Nakahara."

After the introductions were made, Bryan spoke up, "I've long been an admirer of Japanese culture, sir. I've trained in many of your country's martial art techniques."

Keiko's father gave a slight bow and expressed his gratitude to Sterling-Bosch for the recovery of the screens. Turning to Neal, he added in Japanese, "Keiko told me you're fluent in our language and how much she appreciated your help in settling in. She was very nervous when she started classes and you made her feel at ease."

Neal murmured polite thanks in Japanese and exchanged a few pleasantries. Not his fault Mr. Nakahara preferred speaking Japanese with him. If Bryan glowered at the attention he was receiving, so be it.

When Mr. Nakahara left, Aidan told Neal in a low voice, "Very smooth. You'll have to teach me some of those phrases. I've a feeling I'm going to need all the help I can get."

Shortly afterwards, Keiko took Aidan over to meet her mother and Sara and Bryan wandered off to the buffet. Neal and Fiona resumed their stroll in the hall. The crowd around the screens had grown so large, they decided to postpone viewing them till later and opted to visit instead the exhibits on various aspects of Japanese courtly life which had been set up along the sides of the hall.

Neal was pleased at how well the conversation with Sara had gone. It proved he was over her, not that there had been much to get over. Last summer in Baltimore they'd watched the Fourth of July fireworks together, and he'd begun planning his own fireworks with Sara. His emotions were starting to run as hot as that fiery red silk dress she was wearing tonight. But all that came to a fizzling halt when she'd informed him she was dating Bryan and being transferred to London. She'd moved on and so had he.

"Where did you learn Japanese?" Fiona asked.

"My mom taught me a few phrases when I was a child. For a while we had Japanese neighbors. I went to school with the daughter and also became friends with her father. He barely spoke English so we traded lessons."

"I'd love to travel the world. That was one of the reasons I accepted the offer from Weatherby's. They have branches in Asia as well as Europe." She hesitated and slanted him a glance. "I have to ask . . . Were you and Sara a couple? From the way she looked at you, I wondered. Not that it would be a problem. I like Sara."

"No, we never dated. We saw each other over the summer since we were both volunteering at a shelter for runaways. Shared some lunches, but we're very much in the friend zone. Sara's dating Bryan now. Do you know much about him?"

"I've only seen him at Weatherby's a few times. I don't believe he comes to New York very often, but his name often appears on our internal bulletins. He's been involved with some of the most significant recoveries of art works Sterling-Bosch has made. I'd no idea they were a couple. Sara hasn't mentioned him to me. "

"He was her first mentor at Sterling-Bosch. They started dating in the fall."

"Hmm. A workplace romance, that has to be complicated. Still they make a handsome couple."

Neal and Fiona had stopped to watch a demonstration on calligraphy in a cordoned-off section of the hall when Neal noticed Aidan making his way toward them through the crowd. "You're missing out on fantastic sushi. Keiko's still there. She sent me back to alert you."

As they headed for the buffet, Neal was exasperated to see Aidan once more fiddle with his collar. He was going to wreck his tie again if he continued.

Laughing, Fiona pulled Aidan's hand away but it was too late. The damage had already been done.

"I knew I shouldn't have bothered with this monkey suit." Aidan took a stab at stuffing the ends of the bow into place.

"You're only making it worse," Neal grumbled. "This is my last rescue."

"That's much better," Fiona said. "Neal, you could give a demonstration of the refined art of bow-tying. Aidan's not the only one here who could benefit."

They finally reached the buffet after stopping to listen to a discussion of court musical instruments where Neal almost gave up of ever being able to drag her away. Once they'd feasted to their satisfaction on sushi and assorted other Japanese delicacies, they headed to the dais to view the stars of the gala—the pair of folding screens. The six-panel screens had been placed on tables on a raised stage at one end of the hall where guests could view them with ease. Their sheer size was impressive with each screen being close to six feet high and twelve feet long. They were lavishly painted in gold with vibrant scenes from The Tale of Genji appearing to float among clouds of gold.

"I love this scene," Fiona said, pointing to one of the panels. "It depicts a concert given by Genji's ladies at his mansion. Didn't he supposedly teach them all how to play?"

"I believe so, and you can see his son tuning a koto in the same scene."

"At the demo they described the koto as being the instrument of romance at the Japanese court. The Tale of Genji itself is such a romantic story." Fiona paused examining the screens to turn to Neal. "Do you consider yourself a romantic?"

"I've been called that, but I'm not sure that it's all that accurate. How about you?"

Fiona looked thoughtful and shook her head slowly. "Realist, maybe? Or pragmatist?"

"Anyone who sings like you do has to have a romantic side. It may simply be hiding now. Once you find your Genji, it'll come out."

"You mean, you're not my Genji?" Fiona's tone was light as she challenged him.

Neal arched an eyebrow and moved closer to her. "Do you want me to be your Genji?"

Fiona hesitated, her expression unreadable. What her answer was going to be Neal would have to wait to find out because Keiko was waving to get their attention as she rushed up. "A demonstration of how to dress in a twelve-layer court kimono is starting in a few minutes. Fiona, would you like to see it? Sorry, Neal, it's for women only."

"Do you mind?" Fiona asked.

"Not at all," Neal said, "as long as I get a full report afterwards." Once the women left, he dragged his wayward thoughts from Fiona and Genji musings back to the screens. He'd read The Tale of Genji years ago and now tried to match the scenes with what he remembered. The style of painting made the observer feel like a voyeur peering inside the room partitions and spying on the occupants. The screens within the rooms had been painted with Chinese-style monochromatic ink landscapes, making a marked contrast to the vivid colors surrounding them.

"The colors are breathtaking, aren't they?" Turning around Neal found Sara had come up behind him.

"Yes, as bright as your dress," Neal said. "It's good to see you again, Sara. I've missed my lunch partner. How are the Thai restaurants in London?" Before Sara had moved away, they'd met for a few lunches at a Thai restaurant near the Federal Building. That was back in the days when Neal thought they had a future together.

Sara smiled. "None as good as the Bangkok Inn."

"You and Bryan may want to go there while you're here. How long will you be staying?"

"Almost two weeks. In addition to the meetings, I'll be attending a round of training workshops. How's life in New York treating you? It's been only a short time since we saw each other, but you seem different."

"Hopefully in a good way?"

She considered him thoughtfully. "Maybe it's just the tux. That and speaking Japanese," she added, an impish smile passing over her face. "Very impressive, Mr. Bond."

"If you persist in casting me as James Bond, who will you be? Tiffany Case?"

Sara's eyes lit up as she laughed. "I like that! I could play a diamond smuggler with no trouble at all. As I recall, didn't I trick you in the movie and make off with the diamonds?"

"Ah, but then I stole a moon buggy and not only saved you at least twice but also prevented a worldwide nuclear catastrophe." It was easy to fall back into their light banter. After the awkwardness when they parted, Neal was glad to see that was behind them and they could enjoy each other's company once more. It wasn't long before Bryan walked up to join them. "What are you two laughing about?" he asked as he put an arm around Sara.

"Just comparing notes on Thai restaurants," Neal replied casually. "I'll place my money on New York having the best."

"I can't speak for New York, but the restaurants in London are a poor substitute for genuine Thai cuisine," Bryan said. "Once you've traveled to Bangkok, you won't be satisfied with anything less."

"Bryan's being unfair," Sara said. "We've dined at several that I thought were outstanding."

"I stand corrected," Bryan said, smiling at her. "Your Japanese sounded quite fluent, Neal. Did you live in Japan?"

Neal deflected. "Is that where you learned martial arts? Sara told me you're a master."

"Yes, I studied extensively both in Japan and China." Bryan launched into a long description of various fighting techniques, making Neal feel like he'd landed into a kung fu movie, before he switched to questioning him about his work at the Bureau.

Neal found himself wanting to evade all of Bryan's questions with noncommittal responses. He had the uncomfortable feeling of being grilled although on the surface Bryan's questions were innocuous enough. Neal directed the conversation away from himself and onto the screens.

"They'd been stolen in Boston where they'd been taken for restoration work," Bryan said. "A collector later bought them, not knowing their provenance. When he offered to have them exhibited at a museum, we were able to identify them and return them to their rightful owner."

"How was the authentication carried out?" Neal asked out of genuine curiosity. Soon he'd need to choose a topic for his master's thesis, and art authentication would be particularly relevant to his work with the FBI. Sterling-Bosch was the insurer for many of the largest museums in the world and authentication was an essential element of any appraisal.

"For paintings Sterling-Bosch employs museum experts for verification." Sara said. "We also have independent experts who are called upon. In the case of these panels, experts at the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum were used. Bryan manages many of the authentications in Europe for us."

While they talked, Bryan kept an eye on the crowd, scanning them no doubt for clients. "Sara, there's someone I'd like to introduce you to. You'll have to excuse us. We're going to be staying in town for several days. Perhaps we can meet for drinks sometime."

Sara and Bryan walked off together. Watching them, Neal thought how well they fit into the gala crowd, moving with grace and assurance. Bryan had a commanding presence. It was understandable why Sara was intrigued by him. But there was something about Bryan Neal didn't like. Probably just sour grapes, he thought ruefully. For Sara's sake he really should make an effort to give the guy a break. No more Sighin' Bryan comments.

Neal returned to his study of the paintings, walking around to the back of the screens to examine the framing technique. In a small alcove several feet away to one side of the stage, two young Japanese guys were sitting at a table holding an animated conversation. Their faces were flushed and their voices loud. From the number of glasses on the table, plainly they'd taken advantage of the free bar.

Neal paid little attention to them while he studied the screens until he heard Samurai bonds mentioned. What they were discussing set off warning bells. They were speaking Japanese and obviously not concerned that he could overhear them. Was that just the liquor talking or were they serious? Neal walked back in front of the screens so that he could monitor their conversation without being observed. Shortly afterwards, Fiona rejoined him.

"Did you enjoy the demo?" he asked.

"I'm ready to get one of my own! Every once in a blue moon Weatherby's acquires an old kimono to auction. We've always displayed them flat, but this has given me a new appreciation for how the design correlates to the folding technique. It reminds me of folding a piece of origami. You should be excellent at folding a kimono, Neal. Ever wear one? No doubt you'd be quite dashing although I must say I prefer you in a tux."

While he and Fiona chatted, Neal continued to listen to the conversation going on behind the screens. Were they actually going to rob the bank?

Notes: Thanks for reading! Neal's floating among the clouds at the moment but that won't last for long. In next week's chapter, Samurai Bonds, Mozzie gives unwelcome advice, Neal discusses what he overheard with Peter, and a new case begins.

If you'd like to see photos of the cast members and other visuals, visit the Evening with Genji board on our Caffrey Conversation Pinterest site where both Penna Nomen and I pin illustrations for our stories. I'll update the board with additional pins when I post a new chapter.

Penna and I share a blog, called Penna Nomen & Silbrith Conversation where we post about our stories and adventures in writing. FanFiction doesn't allow links in notes, but I've added links to both our blog and our Pinterest site in my profile.

Thanks to Penna, creator of this AU, for acting as beta reader and awesome co-conspirator for this story. If you'd like to catch up, the series begins with Caffrey Conversation where Peter recruited Neal in 2003. My first story, Complications, describes how Neal was admitted to Columbia. In this chapter reference is made to the fireworks which went off between Sara and Neal last summer. That sizzling account can be found in Caffrey Disclosure. We date all our stories so you can keep track of the order in which events occur.

Background on the Caffrey Conversation AU for new readers: Our 'verse differs from canon in that Neal never was sent to prison and the characters are several years younger. The personalities of canon characters (Elizabeth, Mozzie, Diana, Jones, Hughes, June, and Sara) are the same. In canon, Neal's only relatives to be mentioned are his father and mother. In ours, his mother Meredith has a twin sister named Noelle who is a psychologist. She met Peter's older brother Joe, an architect in the spring of 2004 and they plan to be wed during the Christmas holidays shortly after this story. Henry Winslow is Noelle's son and nearly three years older than Neal. He works at a private investigation and security company named Winston-Winslow (usually referred to as Win-Win). The other Caffrey and Winslow relatives are not mentioned in this story. You can find the entire cast on our Pinterest site.

Disclaimers: White Collar and its characters are not mine. Any depictions of real institutions and locations are not necessarily true or accurate