A trademark grin played at the mouth of a particular reformed con artist. Things had gone as planned, though it had been tight. Very tight. In fact, it was one of the more close stash-n-dash jobs he'd done. Of course he was normally never worried too much, it wasn't difficult to get in and out, but the issue had been Peter. The damn guy, he was good, and he didn't want to jeopardize their relationship. Thankfully the agent had taken the bait and locked him away in the holding room, too far away from the penthouse to be considered a suspect should anything...strange..happen right? Like perhaps replacing a very valuable Degas with an expertly made fake. No way he could have gotten it done, at least thats what Peter would believe, and thats all that mattered. Thank the Greek Gods Mozzie had been able to jam the elevator, otherwise things would have gone very differently. Still, it was over now.

Neal made his way into a shop and grabbed a bottle of wine before heading back to June's.

"Hello June." Caffrey smiled with his usual air of regality as he set the bottle on the table before her.

The woman happily accepted it with pleasant surprise. She had just been sitting at the patio table enjoying a book and the gentle breeze when her mischievous casanova had slipped in. He was a good man, despite his history and questionable hobbies.

"How was work today?" She asked as she watched him pour her a glass. For some reason Neal was never afraid to tell her how he really felt. As long as it didn't put her in any kind of danger.

He tilted his head to the side a little with a bit of an exasperated gleam in his cerulean eyes. "It was good. A bit...eventful, but good." He smiled. He narrowed his eyes a little in amused confusion as the woman before him laughed just a little with another drink of her coffee.

"What?" He questioned, trying to place why she would giggle at his statement.

She raised a brow and leaned forward, all kindness and knowing in her expression. "I know that look. Byron invented that look.." She paused to laugh again and admire the man before her. "I'm sure your heart raced today at some point. But I won't pry, the less I know right?"

Neal hung his head for a brief moment before smiling back at her in defeat, she was sharp that was for sure.

"I don't know what you mean." He confirmed with a smirk and a perfectly timed wink. "I'll see ya June."

With that he stood, adjusting his suit just slightly to fix the bunching around his shoulders from leaning in his chair.

"Wont you stay? It's a nice evening and I know how you like to unwind after work."

He shook his head politely. "Nah, thanks. I'm a bit tired, like I said, eventful day." With that he gave the woman a kiss on the cheek and turned to head back inside and to his room.

"Alright, goodnight dear."

"G'night."

It was just shy of three a.m when Neal woke up, drenched in sweat despite sleeping shirtless and having the bedroom window cracked open a good two inches. A groan escaped his body when he tried to turn over, there was no helping it, he had to get up and replace his sheets, they were soaked. Figuring he was just experiencing a freak effect from the wine, he made his way to the kitchen sink and grabbed a glass of water. The coolness soothed his throat which he hadn't realized was tight and felt swollen. Could it be...that he was getting sick? Not him, not the infamous con artist that evaded the FBI easily for years. Easily enough that is. Neal Caffrey didn't get sick, it just didn't happen. He was the epitome of health, fit, showered every day, exercised with how much he walked back and forth around the city, and ate a healthy enough diet. Still, this felt like more than a bad batch of wine. With that thought in mind he made his way over to the thermostat that hung on the wall. The numbers showed him that his home was a comfortable sixty-eight degrees. Hardly warm enough to cause him to break out in a violent sweat while he slept. With a sigh he rubbed his head. His body felt heavy, his neck was sore, so without caring to change the bedding, he just fixed his blankets and flipped his pillow, not bothering to cover up. Laying on top of the bedding was soothing, the window cooled the surface and beckoned him to sleep once more.

Six-thirty came around faster than he'd hoped, this time however he found he was freezing. Chills rattled through his body as he pulled himself to his feet. Dizziness barged into his head as an unwelcome guest.

"Damn..."He muttered under his breath and decided that the best fix for this would be a hot shower and some fresh coffee. Opening the door to the bathroom was comforting as most of the heat from the vent was trapped inside. He shivered as he took a look at himself and found he was definitely flushed. Not only that but his normally smooth skin felt oily and clammy from last nights sweat.

With a faint squeak, the knob for the tub turned and unleashed a refreshing stream of warm water. Carefully stepping into the shower Neal absorbed the warmth that massaged his sore muscles and allowed himself to relax.

The loud thrumming of water falling against the tub and the not so warm water that drowned his flesh came to his attention, opening his eyes he let the light adjust in his vision. Confusion flooded his mind as he realized he was sitting at the bottom of the tub, body more sore than ever and leaning against the cool wall. He didn't know how, he didn't know when, but at some point he'd fallen asleep. Quickly he clambered back onto his feet and turned off the water before it got any colder. Shivering a bit he stepped out and wrapped himself in his towel. Panic set in as he rushed out of the bathroom to be greeted by much cooler air and his clock. Looking at the time he panicked even more. It was seven-forty-five. Meaning he had less than twenty minutes to get ready and get to the office.

After scrambling to get dried off, dressed and presentable he dashed out the door.

"You're late." Peter halfway scolded, but was more curious as to why. This was Neal. He wasn't the 'late' type. Because 'late' raised questions, and there was nothing Caffrey hated more than questions.

"Yeah.." Neal responded but in his jumbled up mind he just sort of smiled awkwardly and couldnt get any explanatory words to surface. Peter tilted his head just a little and did that 'thing' with his mouth that was a dead give away that he was suspicious.

"You wanna tell me why?"

And there were the hands on the hips. They were bound to show up, like the trademark of a disapproving parent looming down at a kid who skipped class. He was such a stiff, but Neal had grown used to it for the most part.

Neal shook off his headlight stare and came up with a worthy excuse.

"Yeah sorry, I spilled coffee on my suit this morning and had to change."

Peter was not convinced. Neal took a hitched breath and broke eye contact glancing around the room attempting to seem casual.

"And that took you so long because...?"

Peter just had to pry, he couldnt accept a perfectly believable answer. Neal was not in the mood to play con man for once, he felt like trash and just wanted his fed friend to give him stats on their case.

"Well its a vintage Devore and a gift from June, I had to take it to dry cleaning."

Peter raised a speculating brow but just sighed, nodding ever so slightly in acceptance. He turned and made his way towards the stairs, expecting Neal to follow, which he did. Taking a seat beside Jones and across from Diana, Peter began to brief them on the case and the latest findings. Neal leaned back in his chair and found it very hard to focus. On and on, case this, fraud that, undercover here, wingman there. It just wouldnt end. Suddenly peters stern tones snapped him out of his daze.

"Am I boring you?..." He questioned. Neal blinked a time or two and sighed, leaning forward.

"No, No. Just thinking about the case."

Jones was curious, Neal wasnt on his game today, so that meant he was up to something. Didnt it?

"Good then you can tell me what I was just saying."

Again, not in the mood. Neal lifted an annoyed hand and locked eyes with his handler. "Are we in elementary school?"

Peter was not pleased.

"What did I say?" It was more firm this time, a demand. Neal looked away with a huff, Peter wanted to take it as a respectful submission but if he knew Neal, he knew it was more of a gesture that said quite plainly 'piss off'.

"Should we leave you two alone?" Diana asked, her tone sliced the surrounding air and Jones knew it was time to clear out.

"Yeah. Give us a bit." Burke agreed, never taking his eyes off Caffrey.

Silence was thick until the door closed with their coworkers finally on the other side, then again for a minute or so.

Finally the tension broke through to Neal. "What?"

Peter sighed and stood beside his delinquent and looked down upon him with not angry, but prying eyes. "Out with it."

Neal sent his hands out suggestively. "What do you wanna hear Peter." It wasnt common for Neal to lose his cool, collected charm. He wouldnt have been able to con his way out of anything today, not with how he was acting.

"Youve had nothing but attitude all morning, and I can tell something is wrong." He explained, this time taking a seat beside his friend to seem less of a threat. " Neal I'm here for you."

Caffrey sighed once more and debated telling Peter.

"If you dont tell me I'm gonna assume you are caught up in something illegal...and your better judgment is getting to you." The older man smirked which got him a highly irritated look from Neal. "What?" He snickered just a bit, trying to play good cop.

Realizing that this was Peter and Peter never quit, he decided to save himself an extra headache.

"Ive been...feeling a bit off today okay?" He managed to say, but with that decided he needed to get back to work and moved to stand. He may have left the room had Peter not placed a firm hand on his shoulder, gesturing for him to take his seat.

"Off?"

"Yes, off." There was another hint of impatience.

"Neal..." Pause. "Are you sick?" Burke asked with surprise. Neal just sort of crumbled beneath the assumption. The very sound of it was embarrassing, why did the man have to know everything.

"No. No, of course not. I just added a bit too much creamer to my coffee. I'm fine." He persuaded. Peter decided to let up a little and allowed the man to stand. Neal seemed relieved, like an animal escaping the clutches of a predator.

"I'll see ya after lunch." Neal said and managed to pull off his suave grin, briskly leaving the room without a sound.

Peter watched him as he left, still curious.

That evening Neal showered again, for good measure and to wash any invasive bacteria from his body. He made some basic soup and tried to eat but his appetite just wasn't kicking. Though he managed to down a few bites before dumping the rest. Once nine p.m came around Mozzie decided to let himself in, finding his friend asleep against the table and his left hand resting in a goopy pool of burnt sienna.

"Neal?" He addressed, said man gasped and pulled his face from the table, a red imprint left on his skin from the prolonged contact. "I'm guessing you didnt drink yourself to this state?.." Mozzie suggested as he pointed out Neals mostly untouched glass. Welcoming himself to the table he picked up the bottle of Chateau and poured himself some.

"Moz?" Neal questioned.

"I think so?" He responded which earned him a bit of a glare. "Trying out finger painting?"

Caffrey finally noticed the paint all over his hand and grimaced, taking his rag and attempting to get the majority off.

"Sorry Moz. Guess I was tired." He laughed but was surprised in himself.

Neal stood and moved to the bathroom to wash his hands better and use a dab of paint thinner to erase the evidence from his fingernails.

"Whatcha need Mozzie?"

The bald man shrugged and seemed perhaps offended. "Nothing mein friend. Just came by to take up in leisurely conversation"

"You mean drink my wine."

"You say po-tay-toh I say po-tah-toh..." Again with a shrug. Neal just shook his head in grim acceptance, Mozzie was a different one, that was for sure.

"Look I'm gonna get some rest, I'll see ya tomorrow Moz." Neal dismissed with a content grin.

Mozzie nodded and grabbed the bottle before he left, that man was lucky to still have his liver intact with how much he drank in his down time, which was all the time. Neal breathed a heavy sigh at being alone once more, was best to keep his problems to himself.

...

By the time sunrise painted pink and orange on the horizon, Neal had already been awake for two hours. Coughing hard enough to make his body tremble and his head throb. He'd made a pot of coffee to try and sooth his symptoms but it did little more than burn his already hot throat. He couldnt go in to work like this, Peter would be on him like a cat on a mouse. He could just imagine Elizabeth fretting over him like a sickly child.

He raised an exhausted arm and scratched the back of his head, he needed a remedy and fast. Just then though a knock rapped at the door, tension like a tought rubber band settled upon him. Ready to snap at any slight movement.

"Yeah?" He called out as he shuffled around, quickly putting on his suit but omitting the jacket.

"Its me." Peter replied. Shit. He couldnt afford to be sick, he wanted to work on these cases, he couldnt smooth talk anyone and keep up his reputation like this. Being sick would get him out of the office and on Peters radar even more.

"Oh. Hey."

Pause.

"You gonna let me in Neal?" The man questioned from the other side, Neal groaned under his breath and opened the door.

"Yeah sorry I was, I was cleaning up a few things. Mozzie was here last night and left a mess. Aha." He greeted and allowed his friend inside. Peter made his way in and set down a coffee hed picked up for the kid.

"Ah thanks."

"Thought I would pick you up today, ya know. Maybe clear up some things. Im sorry I was on you about yesterday."

Neal shook his head and smiled, accepting the coffee. "No, don't. It's fine."

Peter seemed content with his response and changed the subject by taking a peek at Neal's most recent painting. "Not plotting to use this for anything illegal right?" He laughed.

Neal shrugged and smirked just a little, he wasn't denying it. Peter's face twisted into an accusing kind of serious and raised a brow, his felon just snickered and shook his head.

"I'm just messing with you, come on."

"Mmhm..." Peter returned the grin and shook it off, Neal always kept him on his toes, that was for sure. Caffrey coughed a little under his breath, doing his best to fight down the incurable itch that was crawling up his throat. He moved to his room and grabbed his jacket as an escape, but as he set down his coffee and slipped his arms through the sleeves a violent cough ripped through his chest. It didn't stop there, he hadn't had a fit since earlier that morning and had been hoping that the coffee had satiated it, but the attack did just that, attacked. After he didn't stop Peter became suspicious and made his way to his friend.

"Neal?"

"Yeah, I-I'm okay.." He managed between coughs, finally he was able to stop and breath for a moment. Eyes red and watering, deep shaky breaths filling his battered lungs. A few straggler coughs made their way out but it seemed that they they were finished, for the moment.

"You sure?" Peter continued. Caffrey just smirked and tried to play it off.

"I'm sure. Just some coffee down the wrong pipe."

Peter nodded and sighed in what almost sounded like relief. "Shall we?"

"Yeah, yeah."

The two unlikely partners joined each other in the walk to the car and left for work.

...

The morning was rough, he had to duck to the bathroom a lot, and without people noticing. When they did notice, he needed excuses. Getting some fresh air, checking the break room for a snack, picking up ink replacements for his pens but the reasons were running out.

The smooth talking con was again in the bathroom, only this time he wasn't just skipping out to cough his chest out, but this time he was loosing his breakfast. A mix of coffee and a breakfast muffin certainly didn't mix well a second time. He braced himself on the stall walls with trembling arms, nausea wasn't something he was familiar with, again, he didn't get sick. In fact, last year he didn't even come down with a sniffle, he was the height of health 99.9 percent of the time. Too bad he was sitting at that left over 1 percent now. Neal stared down at the toilet with glazed over eyes, he wanted nothing more than to sleep but he couldnt just leave. He and mozzie had things they were working on and if anyone found out he was sick that would definitely put him on the map. People checking in on him, doting on him. In a way it was nice to have people care, but only when he wanted them to. The feeling of his stomach sitting at the base of his throat was driving him mad and he fought down a whimper but as he did that dreadful cough played its way back to the stage and with it's attack came anything that may have been left inside. He clamped his eyes shut to try and defeat the light headedness he was suffering from, but as he did so he heard the familiar creek of the bathroom door opening. He caught his breath in his throat and breathed as quietly as he could. Murdering the trigger like feeling in his stomach that was ready to fire once again.

Once he heard whoever it was move into a stall, he made for his escape. Rushing to the sink he turned the water on and grabbed a paper towel to wash his face but ended up dry heaving several times.

"Neal?"

Said man jumped in surprise when Jones walked in. He stopped in his tracks seeing the flustered man before him.

"Jones." Neal smiled the best he could which wasn't necessarily the class act he normally fancied.

"You okay?" Jones was prying, but he was easy enough to shake. After some awkward short chit chat Neal strode out the door, embracing the chance to breath in peace.

"Neal?"

Damn it what now. Neal, with an unmasked wash of irritation spun around and stared his handler in the face.

"What." He snapped. "If you're gonna ask if I'm okay don't bother."

Peter narrowed his eyes and placed a hand on his hips as he took a breath to calm his temper.

"I wasn't. I was going to tell you I found a lead in our case. But now I'm wondering if I should be asking." He countered, Neal paused a bit, dumbfounded. He'd lost his cool, not good.

"Uh, No. No I'm good. Sorry just uh, burned myself on my coffee."

Peter was not sold.

"In the bathroom."

Pause.

"Y-eah." Neal couldn't keep eye contact, he was cornered, and his brain wasn't willing to cooperate in getting him out of it.

Another few still seconds went by as Neal refused to look his boss in the eye, whereas the other had no quarrel with gazing down at the man.

"You're flushed. You sure everythings g-"

"It's fine." Neal quipped again. Peter took an aggravated sigh and a slight step back to rest his stance at an angle.

"Neal Caffrey." He mused. This caught Neal's attention, making him bring his head up and tilt it just enough to seem accusing. He didn't like the smirk Peter was wearing. "Come with me." He ordered and Neal had no choice but to follow. He took the young man outside and once they were in his car, the agent brought a hand up and placed it firmly to Neals forehead without any warning.

"Peter, what are y-" He protested as he pulled away.

"That's what I thought. You are sick." Peter deduced with a disapproving sigh.

"No, I told you. Just didn't like the coffee."

"You said you burned yourself."

"That too."

"Jones texted me and said you were acting strange."

Neal shook his head slightly and rested his head against the seat, turning to look out the window in defeat. Soon after however he turned his attention back to Burke.

"Well what're you gonna do. People get sick sometimes even con artists..."

"What cant sneak your way out of it?" Peter teased, but shrugged and looked away when Neal sent visual daggers in his direction. "Alright, alright." He laughed. "I'm sorry youre not feeling well."

"Thank you." Neal replied firmly.

With that he moved to exit the car, but simultaneously Peter started it.

"Don't get out, I'm taking you home."

"What?" Neal jabbed, he kept his eyes on the man beside him and waited.

"You cant work in your condition, besides you'll get everyone else sick too. "

"Peter you can't bench me just because Ive got a bug, it'll be gone tomorrow."

"Well good, then you can come back to work tomorrow."

Exasperated Neal again rested his head against the seat, and found himself peering out his window. Time seemed to fly quickly as they drove through the city, despite heavy traffic it didnt take long to get him home. The two walked into the apartment, Neal a bit begrudgingly. As they did however they were greeted by Mozzie who was listening to mozart and sipping a glass of Chardonnay, a book labelled Conspiracy Theory Facts.

"Moz, what are you doing?"

"Whys the suit here? Arent you guys normally out ridding the world of morally decent men by this hour?"

"Criminals, yes." Peter smiled and slapped a firm hand to Neals back, causing the man to cough hard several times. Mozzie blinked in surprised and slight concern. "Neals sick." Peter grinned. "He needs to rest, cant work till hes better."

"Neal?" Mozzie wondered in a disbelieving voice. "You've only been sick like-"

"I know...Moz. Its fine. Peter just likes to play mother hen."

The older man turned to give Neal an annoyed glance, of course the younger sent it right back at him.

"I cant have you on cases if youre gonna cough all over our suspects."

"Well good, I can get things done that I normally never have time for." His notes were matter of fact and sharp.

Peter plastered a knowing smile across his often stern features. "Yeah, as long as its in here."

"What?" Neal questioned. Turning his gaze back to his handler once more.

"Yep. I'm placing you under house arrest until you're well." Peter informed, making Neal gawk at his words. He couldnt be serious could he?

"Come on Peter I-"

"Nope."

"But I have-"

"No."

"Peter can't-"

"Neal." The man warned, Caffrey backed down and sighed, of course causing him to cough several times leaving his throat sore and his head throbbing.

"As much as I'd love to stay and watch this patriarchal drama unfold, I have somewhere to be." Mozzie added, causing some awkard vibes between the felon and the Fed.

"Yeah, see ya later." Neal said as he guided his friend to the door and watched him leave, then sharply jerked back around to face the agent. "House arrest are you serious? I'm not a child Peter."

"Of course not, for a child it would be called being grounded."

Neal, annoyed, took a seat at his table. He was feeling too miserable to argue and his nausea was making a nasty come back.

"I want you well Neal. Elizabeth will be worried. I'll be sending a doctor by to check on you and make sure this isnt anything serious."

"No."

"Excuse me?"

Neal sat back in his chair. "Why are you so worried about me? In just a criminal working for the agency until I can get this anklet off and get back to work."

"That's the fever talking. I'll see you later Neal, doctor should be by before 4 this afternoon. Let him do what he needs to get you well, thats an order." Peter added, he knew Neal, hed do anything to get a clean bill of health, including conning a doctor.

"Him? You couldnt even get me a girl?"

Peter raised an amused brow. "Women have a tendency to cave under the charm of Neal Caffrey, so no. I know the guy, he's good. Let him treat you."

"Only if I get a lollipop and a sticker at the end."

Peter laughed at the sarcasm this man was able to dish out so easily. If he didnt know any better, he'd say his pet casenova didn't much like doctors.

"You know...I was a doctor, I could-"

"I'm gonna pretend I didnt hear that. Bed Neal. Promise."

"Yeah, yeah I promise." The young con accepted and showed his friend out. "Have a good day Peter. Dont fret about me too much.."

Peter called back with amusement lacing his tone. "Goodbye."

Neal hung his head out the door. "I mean it! You'll get wrinkles!"

"Bed Neal!"The words thundered back with an echo as the man was getting further away. The blue eyed man sighed and closed the door. A nap didnt sound bad, perhaps it would sooth his upturned stomach and kill off his migraine.

...

Light penetrated his eyes as he slowly came to, his head heavier than lead as he lifted it from his pillow. His stomach felt better, but with how much his head hurt he could have sworn he had a hangover. Each movement ached like he'd had his skull in a vise grip for the last week. It was then that he realized why he was awake, someone was knocking at the door...rather relentlessly. Mozzie?

He forced himself from his bed and moved to his door and pulled it open. "Mozzie I thought you-" he began, that is until he realized that it wasnt mozzie at all. Instead he found himself looking up at a very tall man with looks almost as good as his own. With green eyes and thick brown hair the man was probably quite popular with the ladies. He wore a pair of beige slacks and a blue dress shirt with a tie so Neal was sure this was the man Peter had mentioned. Did that mean...?

A quick glance at the man's watch informed him that it was currently 3:45 in the after noon. Somehow, he had slept for roughly five hours. He couldnt believe it, and for a moment forgot how to speak.

Neal huffed out an apology and greeted the man before him.

"Sorry, I thought you may have been a friend I was expecting. Can I help you?"

The taller of the two politely nodded. "Yes. William Hoist. I'm looking for Neal Caffrey?"

Neal took in a sharp breath through his teeth and tilted his head. "Sorry, cant say I know him. Good luck finding your guy though." Caffrey evaded and began to close the door until the man held out a hand and stopped it half way.

"So...if youre not Neal Caffrey, then who are you?"

The convict sighed, fighting down a very urgent cough. "Nick Halden."

"Good then you wont mind my intrusion." William stated as he rather quickly pushed through the door, forcing Neal out of the way to avoid taking it to the face. He watched in disbelief as the intruder placed a rather large leather bag on the table, not minding the glass of wine he had to move.

"Um actually I do mind." Neal retorted as he opened the door wider, suggesting the man leave. William just sort of chuckled under his breath and sat back in one of the chairs.

"Have a seat Caffrey. Peter told me several of your aliases as well as excuses you may have to dismiss me."

With this Neal rolled his eyes just a bit and closed the door quietly, not bothering to ignore the raging cough that surfaced as he did so. Peter had been serious huh. Honestly getting a home visit by a doctor was weird, who did that anymore? Either way, this was a real pain.

...

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