Notes: Happy New Year! This sort of counts as a New Years fic as KeJae and I decided to release these fics into the wild on the same day; New Years Eve (or day or whatever. Timezones). We both decided to do a story with a focus on Peter's skills at discerning Prada handbags, which is only mentioned in the show. We both decided to also go with a White Collar/Chuck crossover with Neal being Bryce Larkin.

Unfortunately, the second part of that took over my story so only the first bits have focus on Peter's skills. Oh well, I still think there's a good story here for anyone who likes White Collar and Chuck crossovers.

Peter Versus the Secrets in the Fake Bag

Peter was a little spaced out as he walked down the path behind his wife. Around them, people hurried from store to store. Peter didn't know how people could consider shopping 'fun'. It was mostly walking around and looking at things.

However, he promised El he would assist her with picking out a dress for an upcoming event and a couple of gifts for her workers who would be putting in the tough hours with her. Both were jobs that had to be done along with the client's job therefore Peter hadn't seen his wife in a while.

He gave in to the shopping request in order to spend time with El.

"Not much longer now," El informed him, giving him a smile which said she was proud he had lasted so long without complaining. "We should pick up something nice for dinner."

Not having to cook sounded good. Peter hoisted the bags hanging of his arms, preparing to power through the last bit.

El pulled him into a store selling scented bath lotions and things. She looked around and then gasped.

"Susan!"

A larger woman standing nearby in a white skirt and blue shirt turned to look at them. She grinned, curly brown hair bouncing around her cheeks.

"Elizabeth! Is that you?"

The women embraced and El asked how Susan had been.

"Oh, none too bad. Check out what I just scored." She held up a light blue Prada bag. "It was on special, a bargain."

"That's amazing!" El crowed, happy for her friend.

Peter, however, frowned. He stepped forward and stared at the bag. "Can I see that a moment?"

"Really?" Susan questioned in a huff. She turned to El, like it was a shock that Peter would talk to her.

"Peter, hun? What is it?"

Peter pointed to the metal bands holding the handles to the bag and the zipper. The bands were slightly discoloured from rubbing, revealing silver underneath gold paint. They had been badly painted to match the zipper.

"It's a fake."

Susan sucked in a breath and immediately denied it. It was a good price, sure, but she had still spent a couple thousand on it.

Peter was glad to see El wince at the mention of the price. He wouldn't have to worry about his wife buying overpriced fake handbags anytime soon.

"Where did you get this?" Peter asked. Closer inspection found that the company's logo was off as the spacing between letters was too small and the tag on the inside wasn't printed the same way it was printed in every Prada bag. Instead of 'PRADA MADE IN ITALY', he read 'Made in Italia, PRADA'.

Neal stared at Peter and then leaned over to Diana.

"Did he really just look at a handbag and realise it was fake?" he stage-whispered to her.

Peter shook his head while a couple of the younger agents chuckled. Jones smiled from across the table from Neal.

"Of course he did," he said in a proud voice. "Do you really just look at a painting and realise it's a forgery?"

The agents gasped like they were kids on a playground rather than grown people in a meeting. Neal grinned at Jones like the good-natured conman he was.

"Of course. But that's paintings and not handbags."

"I already told you, 'ask what I know about a Prada handbag sometime,'" Peter reminded Neal. It had been during one of their first cases together when he had said something to that effect. "Now the time has come. We've arrested the seller but now we need to cut off the supplier."

"The seller has given up their provider in order to make a deal," Hughes announced. "We are volunteering agents to conduct the raid. As such, Agent Burke will be giving a presentation to those agents on spotting fraudulent Prada products."

"This is going to be interesting," Diana announced.

"I've never bought my wife a fraudulent handbag so this will be handy knowledge for anyone with a partner," Peter pointed out.

"As long as you don't point to anything already in the closet," Neal added with a shake of his head. "They don't like it when you do that."

A couple of the agents laughed.

"FBI, nobody move!"

Neal winced slightly at the banging of doors opening and the rattling of the large, metal and automatic warehouse door opening. Agents swarmed everywhere, guns ready and with orders to round everyone up.

The people in the warehouse went down without a fight, outgunned and out-manned. Neal followed Peter through the building and up the stairs to the office where the head of the operation was. Peter didn't wait, he kicked the door open and ordered the man inside to freeze.

The man did, frozen pulling a wire-like object out of the seam. Neal recognised it instantly as a device for storing digital information.

"Oh great," Peter sighed. This had just gotten complicated.

Neal told Mozzie about the case the night after they were debriefed.

"It's brilliant," Mozzie crowed. He tossed his hands in the air and started pacing the room as he spoke. "The bags are shipped all around the world as cheap knock-offs and the information gets to where it needs to be while the person in charge gets a cut from the handbag sales. No one looks any deeper than cheap handbags because that's a crime in of itself-"

"Forging a handbag is not the same as forging to work of the great masters," Neal pointed out.

Mozzie fixed him with a glare. "Some fashion today is equal in complexity and commentary as great works. People are more likely to spend life savings on a fancy bag rather than an expensive painting, Neal."

Neal rolled his eyes. He might wear nice suits, thanks to June, but he still preferred the work of the great masters, and a few unknowns, to clothing.

"What was the information being ferried?" Mozzie asked earnestly, stepping up to the table where Neal was sitting.

"No idea. The FBI crew haven't been able to crack the encryption."

Mozzie snorted. "Of course those suits aren't able to figure out information like that."

Neal decided not to remind Mozzie that the FBI did have an entire division dedicated to computer crimes who should be able to crack an encryption. After all, he had Mozzie right where he wanted him.

"I'm glad you think so." Neal pulled out a small flash drive and placed it on the table. "Because Peter wants to see what you can pull off it. Ask Sally if you have to."

Mozzie stared at the little flash drive. "Really?"

Neal nodded. "The FBI has reached a dead end. Peter's calling in CIs. Officially, that means me. Unofficially, that's you."

There was a slight hesitation before Mozzie picked up the drive. "I'll do my best," he said. That also meant that he would be sweeping the drive for GPS, listening bugs and whatever else he had a procedure for.

"I've got it!" Sally cried out, rousing Mozzie from his sleep and out to where the computer monitors were. Mozzie stared at files upon files of information.

"Excellent," he said, rubbing his hands together. It had taken less than 24 hours to crack and Mozzie was certain that spies themselves couldn't do it faster. "How about we take a look?"

"Of course," Sally agreed, beginning to open the files.

The hum of computers was the only sound in the room as Sally and Mozzie tried to make sense of what they were seeing.

CIA mission reports. They were official enough to have the classified details blacked out.

Usually, Mozzie would be jumping for joy. However, Sally summed up his feelings with a curse and a, "they're always closer than you think."

And weren't they just? Because included in the files Sally was flipping through, were reports form an agent situated in a very familiar FBI office. They had a dry sense of humour but the histories of the agents and the assessments of their characters matched exactly with Peter and his team in the White Collar FBI office.

"The spooks are spying on the Suits," Mozzie breathed in shock. Whomever the spook was, they probably knew him by appearance by now.

Mozzie had a tough choice ahead of him. Give the files to Neal and let him walk into the proverbial lion's den or deliver them himself. Possibly to the Super Suit, Peter's boss, and Neal at the same time.

Would they off them just for having this information? Mozzie was probably going to find out.

"Sally, help me put some safeguards in place, please."

Sally looked shocked that he was going to deal with this but did as he asked.

Neal was confused when Mozzie insisted on showing the FBI what Sally had uncovered himself. He didn't tell Neal any of it, beyond a 'you need to be careful'. It made him wonder what information had been on the drive.

Maybe something about a criminal in the FBI? Maybe on their floor?

Mozzie looked around as they exited the elevator and stuck close to Neal. Neal knew enough to realise that Mozzie was using his body to hide from the cameras while also not engaging any of the agents in small talk. His instructions to Neal had been to keep moving and make his way up to Reese Hughes' office.

Despite what Mozzie thought about the FBI, he did respect Hughes. The old Special Agent in Charge had used the system in his favour, even against the FBI if need be.

Once they were in Hughes' office and the curtains were drawn, Mozzie pulled out the drive.

"You need to keep an open mind," he said as he passed the drive to Hughes. "For you might not like the harsh truths hidden inside."

Peter rolled his eyes. "Cut the melodrama, Mozzie."

"I'm serious, Suit!"

Hughes, who had opened the file and realised very quickly what he was looking at, chose that as his moment to comment, "Peter, Neal's little friend is correct. This is serious."

"Really?" Peter and Mozzie said in unison. Mozzie leaned back and crossed his arms with a grin.

"Nice to see the suit element understand what this means."

"I understand completely," Hughes said without a smile. He turned his monitor screen so Neal and Peter could see what the drive contained. "Someone in our office has been passing information about us outside. This is a serious breach of security."

Neal's heart froze and then thudded quickly as he realised that he was looking at his own reports. The ones he had made out to General Beckman about his missions here in New York.

How had they gotten into the hands of the bag forgers? How was the White Collar office going to react?

"At least they're reporting to the CIA and not somewhere overseas," he said. Mozzie and Hughes both looked unimpressed and Neal quickly added, "I mean, it could be worse."

"At least we intercepted it and shut them down," Peter said. "Is this an issue?"

"Peter, we have a spy in our midst. Until we uncover who, every one of our cases could be compromised. I know that you are most certainly not the spy but, you are the only one who I can say that about."

Unaware about Neal's sinking stomach, Hughes went on. "I will be making contact with an old friend of mine. Hopefully that will get us some answers and perhaps we'll even be able to purge this spy from our office."

Mozzie was grinning proudly while Peter's lips were twisted in a tight frown. Neal didn't know what to think or how to feel.

Even though he understood Hughes' actions, which were sensible considering the circumstances, it felt like a slap in the face and a rejection.

Offices were a great place for gossip and it didn't take long for the news of the spy in White Collar to make the rounds. Diana commented that in any other office, it would have parted the agents through suspicion. However, in their office, it became a game.

A game of 'guess the spy'. Jones believed it was because they all trusted each other too much to let something like this bother them.

Despite being twitchy whenever the 'game' was being played around him, waiting for his name to come up, Neal quickly realised that the agents were only naming other agents. People they trusted and believed were on their side were the ones named. Those whose reputations couldn't be hurt by friendly bantering about them being the spy.

A week later and Neal was still twitchy, but for a different reason. He felt like he was pulling away from the other agents. He wasn't named, despite throwing a few names out himself and he felt increasingly guilty about spying when they knew he was there.

When Neal was twitchy, his friends could attest to the terrible quality of his plans.

Peter received the call near to 3am on a Sunday morning. Neal Caffrey's anklet had been deactivated. By the time they reached Junes', Neal was nowhere in sight.

The apartment was untouched and Neal's stuff was still there. Peter stationed an agent who brought Mozzie in when the little guy turned up at Junes, who had been completely unaware of his missing friend until the FBI picked him up.

It became very clear that Neal was gone and no one had any clear answers as to how or why.

Neal's flight landed in Burbank. He smiled as he got off with his one carry-on bag and played polite with the air hosts and hostesses. There was a taxi waiting, ready to take him to his destination.

The Burbank Buy More. It was the easiest way to contact Chuck, although he hadn't thought he would ever see his college friend again. Faking his death had gone a long way to ending their association with each other.

Between facing Chuck and going back to the FBI; Neal made his decision the moment he disabled the anklet. He could deal with being ostracised by Chuck's team and had dealt with it in the past. However, he couldn't deal with being ostracised from Peter's team. The times he had been under suspicion, the side glances and way everyone assessed everything they said and he said, it was tiring.

At least he was in public for this, giving Chuck and the rest of the team time to gather their thoughts before dealing with him openly.

Neal waved off the 'welcome to the Burbank Buy More' and the 'can I help you?' to the staffs' obvious delight.

"Wait a second... Bryce Larkin?"

Bryce turned and looked down a small amount into the face of Morgan Grimes.

"You're the manager here?" he questioned, neither confirming nor denying the accusation.

Bryce then saw something he hadn't seen outside of pictures from Chuck. Morgan's wide toothy smile.

"It is you! I knew it! Have you come to give us a mission?"

"No. I came to see Chuck. Are you going to stop me, considering I'm the guy who wrecked his life and all?"

"Not since Chuck explained the whole spy thing and how you got him expelled to protect him from the CIA, brilliant idea by the way."

"...thanks?" This was stranger than having someone copy-cat his thefts. He didn't think he would see the day when Morgan would praise him. "What's the catch?"

Morgan puffed his chest out. "A little manoeuvre called 'the magnet'."

"The-?" Bryce stopped talking as he felt something press up against his back.

"I distract you while Casey sneaks up behind you," Morgan explained. "I'm 'the Magnet'."

"You're the distraction," Bryce sighed at Morgan.

"He's very good at it. Like how I'm good at this."

"Ow," Bryce stated in an annoyed tone as Casey twisted whatever he was pointing into his back. "That doesn't feel like a gun."

"It's my price checker," Casey said in a pleased tone. "What makes it truly special is what is inside."

That was probably a gun.

"So, move or you'll shoot me?"

"We just want to get you to Castle in one piece. Chuck already flashed and Morgan helped to confirm that you're who you look like."

"Gee, thanks."

"Considering we thought you were dead, you better be thankful," Casey grunted.

"He wants to shoot you on sight," Morgan clarified.

Bryce sighed. "Yeah. I got that." It was par for the course with Casey.

Bryce was not surprised to see Beckman on the screen as he walked into Castle. Casey grunted and shoved him forward before taking his seat at the meeting table. The area was artificially lit by overhead lights and the computer screens. The areas not lit were dark. It made Bryce ache a little for windows open to the sky and light.

"Agent Larkin," Beckman said with her eyebrows knitted together. "You abandoned your post in New York without warning."

Time for business. Bryce kept his face in a small, frustrated frown as he focused on something that irritated him.

Something like how his reports ended up in the hands of forgers.

"We are looking into it," Beckman informed him when he demanded an answer to that.

"It's made the FBI aware of the presence of a spy among them-"

"They're the FBI," Casey snorted.

Sarah looked apologetic as she added, "I'm sure you would have been able to convince them that there was no need to investigate further."

Bryce resisted the urge to roll his eyes. At least this justified his frustrated expression. "The FBI is not stupid. There's at least one agent who could figure out that I'm the only person not mentioned in the reports. Plus, if the person I'm thinking of assists him, then it's only a matter of time before I fall under suspicion."

"I admit, Agent Burke might pose a problem. He often moved faster than expected in some situations during your previous missions in the guise of Neal Caffrey." Beckman let out a long breath. "At this moment in time, you are to remain in Burbank, Agent Larkin and wait for orders," she emphasised those last three words as it was something he should have done before catching a flight from New York to California.

Bryce felt a sting of relief at those words. He wouldn't have to go back and face Peter's disappointment. "Of course. I'll hang around here then."

Bryce kept an eye on what was happening in New York. It didn't take much to figure out what the FBI knew because they had agreed to share information in this case. Hughes was in contact with Beckman.

Unfortunately, this made it difficult to know if it was Beckman or the files which gave up his name as the spy. White Collar now knew that the spy's real name was Bryce Larkin.

Bryce hadn't decided if he was relieved or frustrated that they didn't connect this name to Neal Caffrey. Neal went missing around the time they discovered the spy's name after all.

Except, White Collar was investigating the possibility that Neal had been a victim of some kind of foul play. His disappearance coinciding with the information leak made them think that someone was trying to keep Neal silent.

Bryce spotted Chuck's reflection in the computer screen long before he spoke.

"Hey Bryce," Chuck said. "So, you've been down here a few days."

"Catching up," Bryce explained as he sat back. The nails on his hands had been chewed down to the wick and he would need to use the nail kit at the bottom of his bag if he wanted them to look as impeccable as always when he left.

"So, you left New York because you were spying on these people and now… you are still spying on them?"

"Stay out of it Chuck."

"We're going to Italy for a mission. Want to come?"

"I can monitor the situation from here if you want."

Chuck turned away and gave a shrug to Sarah before they left.

When they returned a week later, high off a job well done, Bryce was still sleeping down in Castle and monitoring the FBI situation. They had managed to discover and shut down the leak in the CIA but Bryce's position was still up in the air.

The higher ups were not happy he had taken things into his own hands, not for the first time, and messed up the mission. This time, Bryce wasn't in New York to fix things so he was being left out of discussions, 'until you can come up with something constructive' as General Beckman put it.

Chuck had seen this kind of behaviour before. He recalled a time in Stanford when Bryce had spent most of the time locked up in their dorm, playing computer games. Bryce had interacted with Chuck, since they shared a room and where friends, but everyone else was sidelined as Bryce only emerged for lectures and classes. Mostly Chuck recognised it because he tended to do something similar whenever things went horribly wrong in his life. Or when a new game came out however Bryce was obviously indulging in the 'life gone horribly wrong' version.

"He really seems to care about these people in New York," Chuck pointed out to Sarah one night.

"He did work with them for years. I guess he may have gotten attached and built a life." Even as she said it, she sounded hesitant as if she couldn't believe it. When Chuck still didn't settle down, she added, "everything's on file. Maybe you should take a look."

Chuck did.

El wasn't surprised when her phone rang with an unknown number. What surprised her was when she answered it and confirmed that, yes, she was Elizabeth Burke.

"You know Neal Caffrey?" the voice asked.

El's heart sped at the sound of Neal's name. It had been almost two weeks since Neal had disappeared and the FBI was on the verge of saying he cut and run, even though Peter suspected something more.

"Yes! Do you know where he is?"

"Yeah. He's kind of camped out in my secret spy base." Pause. "Wow. That felt weird to say. I promise that's not a code for anything, it's really a spy base, although I did buy it from the CIA so it's more my team's base than the CIA... um... anyway, yes."

"Where? My husband's going crazy searching for him! Are you Bryce Larkin that spy my husband says is in the White Collar office? If you've hurt Neal-!"

"He's fine! I never thought I would be mistaken for Bryce though. Maybe I should explain. Neal is Bryce. Bryce Larkin. We went to college together. When his reports were intercepted, he decided it would be a good idea to extract himself. Our boss is kind of mad about that."

Neal was Bryce? The spy? El supposed it made sense. He certainly had the skills for it and would explain why he could use a gun, a skill Peter had found baffling.

"Why would a spy have a cover as a criminal, on working with the FBI?" El asked.

"Honestly, I don't know why Bryce does half the things he does. There's no denying he's a good spy. From what I can tell, no one has figured out that he's Bryce, even though he vanished around the same time the reports surfaced."

El has no idea if that was true but the person on the other ended sounded confident as he said that, a contrast to how he sounded at the start of the call.

"Oh. How is Neal, I mean, Bryce?"

"Bryce is sitting around. He plays mission control for us and sometimes disappears but it's a little difficult to get him out spying when he's technically on the run. I have a plan though."

"Do I get to share this plan with my husband? I'm sure you're aware that he's Special Agent Peter Burke of the FBI and Neal's partner."

"I am. That's why I called you. Bryce spent a lot of time at your place as Neal so I'm guessing you were friends?"

"As much as you can be in our situation. Neal's like family."

"Excellent." Chuck outlined his plan and El agreed to it on the spot. It wasn't a plan which required much from her but it meant that Bryce would be returning to White Collar.

Bryce sighed as Chuck came into the room.

"Can whatever it is wait?" he demanded to know.

"Nope," Chuck said in a smug tone. "We've got a call."

Bryce had to admit, he was slightly curious. "'We' do?"

Chuck didn't answer and Bryce was forced to follow him if he wanted to satisfy his curiosity. He walked out into the meeting room to see a surprised Elizabeth Burke sitting on her lounge room couch, grinning widely and waving as she saw him.

"Mozzie's going to be so jealous," she said in lieu of greeting him. "I'm calling a CIA base."

"Actually it's independently owned," Bryce said.

"She knows," Chuck informed him. He was still grinning, even as Bryce glared at him.

"You told her? Do you know how much trouble you've caused?"

"I'm not the one who abandoned his post in New York," Chuck responded with a shrug. "Besides, I hope the CIA has given up trying to control me and my team. We've kind of proved that's a bad idea time and time again."

"I guess even the CIA can learn," Bryce muttered before turning his attention to the screen. "Where's Peter?"

"He doesn't know about this. Chuck thought it would be best if it was just me and him talking to you for now."

"I have an idea," Chuck announced, "and I need you on board before I pitch it to Beckman."

"And should you refuse to listen or refuse the plan without good reason, I'm telling Peter and we're flying down there."

Bryce turned to Chuck. "You brought her in to threaten me, didn't you?"

"Backup is handy in these situations, now, my idea…"

Peter didn't even make it to his office before Hughes was barking his name.

"Wow. What happened?" Diana questioned. Peter had no idea but figured it couldn't be too bad, unless Bancroft was hiding in Hughes' office.

Before he could enter, a man with short and curly dark brown hair popped out.

"Agent Burke?" he questioned. "Hi! I'm Agent Carmichael. I work with the CIA and escorted Agent Larkin in this morning."

Peter remembered that they were supposed to learn the spy's identity sometime soon. No one wanted to provide any kind of date or time frame so he wasn't too surprised at the appearance of this other agent.

"Nice to meet you."

"Same, same. I mean, I've heard stories and I think you're cool, unlike Casey-"

"He probably has no idea who John Casey is, Chuck," a voice called from inside the office. As soon as he heard it, Peter knew why the person wasn't coming out. "Or what he thinks of the FBI, despite how vocal he is about his opinions," his voice was tinged with distaste.

Peter was tempted to push his way into the office to confirm his suspicions but managed to wait until Chuck moved out of the way.

His eyes quickly snapped to the figure leaning up against the wall, a smirk on his face.

"Neal?" Peter put the pieces together quickly, feeling like someone had slapped him in the face with it. "You're Bryce Larkin."

Bryce's smirk twitched lower and wider, into a nervous grin.

"Sorry I couldn't tell you. Part of the job."

"Like the nice suits?" Peter questioned. Bryce was in black slacks and white shirt. Although the vest was nice quality, the jacket hanging over his arm was 'Fed quality'.

"Oh no. Those were real. I miss my suits but I need to see if June's okay with me wearing them as 'Bryce'." Bryce scratched at his arm beneath the jacket. "These suits itch. Sorry Chuck, but you have terrible taste."

Peter glanced back in time to see Chuck roll his eyes. "I'm guessing you've heard this complaint a lot?"

"Bryce hasn't stopped complaining about my suit since we got on the plane." He leaned forward and added, "I think he's trying to distract himself from having to face you all again."

"This suit is uncomfortable," Bryce grumbled. "And I swear Casey destroyed my old suit in revenge because I didn't actually die again."

"Actually it was Sarah. But yeah, she was mad."

"Oh." This seemed to be news to Bryce. He turned to Peter. "Do you want the jacket for target practice? Apparently it helps since I never realised Sarah was mad."

"Sarah?" Peter questioned.

"Chuck's wife, not our Sara." His eyes widened. "Maybe I should give this jacket to her for target practice. She's probably going to want to shoot me when this gets out."

"Agents," Hughes said, getting their attention. Before him were the forms Bryce had already filled out and a badge for him. "Take a seat or stand but be listening. Agents have changed agencies before-"

"Like how you used to be in the NSA," Chuck pointed out, wilting a little under the glare from Hughes for interrupting.

"However, we have not had an agent change into the office he was previously monitoring."

Peter thought that was a nice way to say 'spying'. He wouldn't have cared to think of it, even though the spy had turned out to be Neal.

"I'm sure it'll be fine," Chuck insisted.

"That remains to be seen," Hughes countered in a serious tone. "There will be a probationary period-"

"I'm going to be a probie?" Bryce gasped. "Come on, Hughes. I know how everything in this office works."

Hughes fixed Bryce with a glare as he repeated, "there will be a probationary period where you'll work directly with Agent Burke. He says it, you do it. It's the least you can do after running out on us and causing us to waste resources trying to locate you. Burke seemed to think you were in trouble."

Peter frowned because it was true. "I didn't know he was the spy so I thought the spy had done something to him."

"Been listening to Mozzie, huh?"

"He was insistent that you wouldn't leave without him. We do need to consider the assessments of people around you."

Bryce grinned for a moment, the grin fading as he recalled that he would have to explain himself to Moz.

Peter brought Bryce back into his office. Bryce sat in the chair he had occupied many times as Neal. This time, instead of playing with rubber band balls or pen and paper, he sat straight and tried to ignore the feeling of being interrogated.

Peter waved his hand. "Alright, talk me through this."

"This?"

"This 'Agent Larkin' thing. How'd it happen?"

Bryce frowned but he owed Peter some kind of explanation. They would be working together, even if Bryce had been demoted to 'probie'. He was still Neal Caffrey and could spin the story without worrying about giving away any information that was classified.

He told Peter about going to Stanford, meeting Chuck and being recruited into the CIA. He told Peter about how he got Chuck kicked out when the recruiters looked Chuck's way. He glossed over the missions and mentioned the relationship he had with Sarah back when they did missions together.

Bryce had to talk about dying since it was kind of important. Casey had shot him for stealing government secrets and Bryce had brought Chuck into the work. He spoke about dying again as that was when the CIA decided to place him on standby as Neal, in prison.

"And then you escaped and made your deal with us," Peter sighed.

"My bosses were annoyed but agreed that it would be helpful to have someone inside the FBI," Bryce explained. Partway through the information dump, Peter had passed him a pen and paper so he was scribbling while he spoke. "I have to say, I didn't think I would enjoy this work was much as I did. And it wasn't as difficult to accept Chuck's idea to hand me off to you as it might have been beforehand." It was difficult to believe the White Collar office would want him back. At least it seemed Peter had his back so hopefully that would keep the other agents from making too big a deal about this.

"You realise you're on paperwork for this first week at least," Peter pointed out. "And you need to complete the work you skipped out on when you ran off to California."

"Do I still get a desk?" Bryce asked.

"Of course."

"Consider it done."

"Confident, aren't you, probie?" Peter questioned in a joking tone. While he was relieved that Bryce was okay, more than okay, he was a FBI, Peter was going to get as much mileage out of the probie jokes as he could.

"I'm still one of the greatest conmen and forgers," Bryce pointed out. "Can't fake skills like that."

"Good. Because you're going to need every ounce of Neal Caffrey's confidence to get through the next few hours," Peter said, moving to open the door of his office. The intention was clear, it was time that Bryce Larkin introduced himself to the office.

Chuck watched as Hughes gathered his agents and introduced him and Bryce to the group. At first, the FBI agents reacted with amusement. Chuck was surprised that they thought it was a joke. At least, until Hughes and Peter both confirmed it.

Neal Caffrey was really Agent Bryce Larkin, who would be joining their office.

Bryce gave them a quick overview of his career. He summarised it by really only saying that he was recruited at Stanford, was a spy and became Neal Caffrey and now would be joining the FBI because the CIA didn't want him anymore.

Chuck ignored the looks he got when Bryce said that comment, which was technically true. Beckman did say that the CIA didn't know what to do with Bryce Larkin and so she had been open to the suggestion of transferring him to the FBI.

It seemed the agents would move past whatever negative feelings they currently had for Bryce as they were willing to defend him from the CIA now.

"What about Agent Carmichael?" Jones asked.

Chuck snapped to attention at the name of his spy identity. "I'm only staying for a few days. To make sure Bryce gets settled in."

"It's New York, Chuck. I have lived here from time to time."

"I know. But you do have a habit of disappearing off the face of the Earth when it suits you." Judging by the amused grins, the people agreed with Chuck.

Bryce shrugged. "Can't argue with you there."

"So Chuck, you've known Bryce since Stanford?" Jones asked.

"That's right."

"What was he like?"

Chuck thought about it. That was a tough question. Mostly, "we were friends." This did not satisfy the agents.

"We were friends and everything else is a very long story," Bryce interrupted, keeping Chuck from answering any of the other questions.

It was morning a few days later when Peter got off the phone in his office with a potential case. As he went down the stairs, he spotted Bryce walking in and grinned.

"You're going to love this one," he commented, spinning Bryce towards the door.

"What is it?"

"A jewellery store that received a shipment of fakes."

Bryce let out a low whistle. This was going to be an interesting one.

Peter knew he would like it. "You're going to confirm that they're forgeries and then we're going to investigate."

"I'll tell Mozzie to get some wine," Bryce said. "We'll probably spend the whole night figuring out how we'd do it."

"I guess Mozzie took the news well then?"

"He doesn't approve, he thinks my talents are wasted in the FBI. However, Chuck helped him agree that the CIA wouldn't be good for me either." Bryce realised something and added, "also, he's going to claim that he was right about me being taken since I spent those missing weeks in a CIA base, underground and not really allowed to leave."

Peter rolled his eyes. "He's going to claim the CIA kidnapped you."

"Something like that," Bryce sighed. "Chuck didn't help with his story about the last time I escaped a CIA facility."

Peter raised his eyebrows. That was something Bryce had skipped over when telling him about himself.

"I'm not going to tell you," Bryce said, holding his hands up. "Mozzie only knows because Chuck told him. It was not one of my better escapes. Let's just go find us some precious stones."

"And a thief," Peter added as recovery was only part of their job.

They opened the doors to Peter's car and hopped in.