Okay… so I can't keep guessing in my canon series of tags ('Collar Stays'), because I want to keep those true to the series (mostly!). And it's a long time until summer and I really want to guess… so here goes. Thanks to Petruchio for the title… my own little amusement. Shakespeare is good for quotes.

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WHITE COLLAR: SEASON 2.6: You Lie, In Faith

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Neal opened the door of his apartment and managed not to slam it shut behind him. Damn it, Peter. You couldn't even give me a chance. Not a shadow of a doubt in your mind –

He stopped abruptly when he saw the card on the table, the key weighing it down. A frown creased his forehead as he read it, and he stared in puzzled thought. 'You'll thank me'… who was playing with him now? And what would he find?

The con man almost laughed. His absolute first thought was that it could be a trap, and that he should call in the team. The team. Right. I've been working with the FBI for too long. I was beginning to believe they'd actually care if I walked into a trap right now. Hell, Peter would probably be relieved if I got myself killed. Looking up, he saw the reflection of a very angry young man in his windows. The reflection stared for a while, before giving him an exasperated look. Okay, so maybe not relieved… With a resigned breath, he pocketed the key and left for the storage unit.

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Fifteen minutes later he turned the key and walked into the large, dim storage room. For a moment his eyes refused to adjust, or perhaps simply refused to see.

A King's ransom. A treasure. All of it, far more than he had seen in their short visit to the ship, more than he imagined possible.

At first, all he could do was turn and stare, not even able to catalog it with his usual quick mind. He glimpsed a painting that he was sure he had seen in an ancient book… a necklace that could have been from the Portuguese crown jewels stolen by pirates in the 1700's… but it was all too much, far too much. He couldn't quite believe it wasn't a wishful dream, but he wasn't waking up. He turned again.

A swelling joy began somewhere in his chest and was rising fast. It was safe! Not destroyed. All this beauty, all this art… All of it. It was safe. The world hadn't lost some of its most precious things; shining proofs that man was more than a worm crawling on the face of the earth.

Wait till Peter sees this –

He turned again, and his eyes widened slightly. There, between two stacks, was the one treasure in this whole of massed wealth that he recognized. The one that he had searched for. That he knew exactly the value of. Blue eyes grew brighter as he smiled a strange smile, almost unbelieving, certainly unsure, but hopeful beyond anything else.

He stood, holding his breath, a sculptured addition to the horde, until the pounding of his heart made it difficult for him to hear the name he whispered softly, almost fearfully.

"Kate?"

The woman stepped out of the shadows and came to him slowly. "Surprise."

He reached out hesitantly, touched her shoulder with his fingertips, and then pulled her into his arms with an almost animal gasp. "God, Kate. I thought you were dead. But I knew, I was hoping, somehow –"

She pulled back, touched his lips with her finger to quiet him. "Shh." She gave a smug little grin and kissed him. Then he seemed to come to himself, and kissed her passionately, his fingers threading through her dark hair as he wrapped his other arm around her, seeming unable to hold her tightly enough. For a time they embraced, until Neal stopped, looked at her again, taking her face in his hands as if he would memorize every detail of her. His eyes filled as he shook his head.

"I thought – I thought you were dead. Why didn't you tell me? How –"

"Easy, handsome," she said softly. "I couldn't let Adler know. I had to follow what he was doing, and if he knew I was alive –"

"But you could have sent me something, some clue…"

"Not with Burke watching your every move." She looked over his shoulder as if the agent would materialize right there in the storage unit, and a bauble caught her eye. "Look at this!" She slipped from his arms and pulled him over to a vase draped with jewels. "Can you believe this one? Look at the size of it." Holding a sapphire the size of a quail's egg, her eyes were bright and excited, and she looked almost like a child on Christmas morning.

Neal grabbed her by the arms and turned her to face him, trying not to scream. "Kate. I thought you were dead. Can you imagine how that felt? I… I thought I'd never see you again..."

The woman pulled back slightly and looked at him. "I wasn't trying to hurt you, Neal. I was trying to get past Adler. For us." He frowned, and she looked surprised. "Can't you believe me? Just look around you!" She made a sweeping gesture. "What else would I have to do to prove it?"

A strange echo in his mind made him blink, and he spoke more softly. "I just can't believe you're here."

She laughed happily and kissed him again. "Well, I am. At least for a few minutes."

"What?" The shock in his face was almost painful. "What do you mean? We can –"

"Neal. Easy. We're not out of the woods yet." She rubbed her hands across his chest. "Until this cools down a little, I need to make myself scarce, and we can figure out the best way to move it all again. The FBI is watching you like a hawk, as I'm sure you know. Besides, there are some goons who think I owe them a percentage of all this, and they're trying to find me."

With that expression, if it were another era, he would have drawn a sword. "Who? We can –" he kicked himself mentally as he realized there was no 'we' to back him up now – "I'll protect you." And then, his con man senses finally kicking in a bit, he added, "And why do they think you owe them?"

She laughed. "You don't think I managed all this myself, did you? Although I did do most of the arrangement…" She took his face and kissed him. "I learned a lot from you." Backing away, she spun slowly, taking in the treasures surrounding them. "The most amazing heist ever." She laughed again, grasping his hands and swinging him around with her in a circle.

Neal couldn't help but laugh with her, then hugged her again, hard. "Where will you be?"

"I'll find you. It's safer."

"Kate…"

"Neal." She tapped the end of his nose with her index finger, and smiled. "Trust me, I'll be back." Her eyes grew serious for a moment. "I really am alive." Then she kissed him again, long enough to prove it. She giggled and slipped out the door, pausing only to throw a golden chain studded with emeralds into her bag. Looking back over her shoulder, one blue eye winked. "Just in case!"

Then she was gone.

Neal looked around the room, at the treasures there, and stared at the door. Did that just happen? Was she really… his fingers strayed to his lips, and he could still feel her warmth on his skin. In his pocket was the card, the key she left him. It was real. She was real. She was alive… and everything could go back to normal.

Whatever that was.

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Elizabeth watched as Peter tied his tie in the hall mirror. He tried twice, swore softly, and looked like he might strangle himself when she calmly walked over, took his hands away, and tied it for him. He gave up trying to glare and sighed as she smiled up at him. "Thank you."

She gave him a grin. "No problem, sweetheart." They had been up late, Peter telling her the details of what had happened at the docks the day before, telling her in painful detail of his suspicions and Neal's angry exit. Then he had been awakened early by a nightmare, and she had been unable to sleep again. Instead, she stayed awake, keeping an eye on him.

She checked her hair in the mirror and picked up her bag, hesitating just a moment before asking. "Will you see Neal at the office?" His shoulders dropped as he turned to look at her.

"I called while you were in the shower and told him to stay away today."

"So you talked?" She sounded so hopeful that he felt like a heel.

"No. I left a message with the guard posted at June's."

"Oh." Elizabeth was trying hard to stay out of this, hoping that, like so many times before, Neal and Peter would find their way through to the other side. "Well, maybe it's good for you two to have some time, then…"

"Yeah. Like four to ten years." He pulled on his suit coat and straightened his collar.

"Peter…"

Her husband looked at her, and his gaze softened. "El, I just don't know what to think."

"I know."

He leaned on the wall. "Alex was with us most of the time."

"And Mozzie, well… Mozzie wouldn't do that."

Peter couldn't help but chuckle at her confidence in the little con man. "And I suppose Neal is innocent as the driven snow as well?"

She looked up at him, her eyes flashing just a bit. "You know how I feel, Peter. I don't think Neal was pretending all this time. I have a little more faith in my ability to read character than that –"

"But El. Con man!"

"And I have far more confidence in your ability to read a suspect. Peter, you know how hard he's been working with you."

The agent sighed. "I would like to believe –"

"No, no you wouldn't. You're afraid to believe, because you don't trust yourself. You know how close you two have become, and you're afraid it's affecting your judgment. You're making him guilty until proven innocent, because you're afraid you'll overlook something just because it's Neal. You're being as hard on him as you would be on yourself… because frankly, you're afraid that you failed him somehow. That this is your fault." She stopped, softened her statement by walking to where he leaned and kissing his cheek. "Sorry. That was harsh."

He pulled her into a one armed hug and kissed her head. "Only because it might be true." They looked into each others eyes for a long moment, and he shook his head, leaning it back against the wall again. "I tell you, El, when he told me he had a room full of his own paintings, I actually was thinking how nice it might be to put a showing together for him. You know, to give him a focus that used his artistic talents, got him some attention for them. Then he goes and burns them all to cover the robbery –"

"Wait." Peter stopped at her interruption, looked at her again. Elizabeth was frowning thoughtfully. "When was it he told you he had a room full of paintings?"

"Day before yesterday, when –" He stopped, looked at her, brown eyes wide. "Damn."

"What?"

"I had no idea about those paintings. Why would he have let that slip if he were planning to use them as cover? If I didn't know he had a pile of painted canvases, I wouldn't have put it together…"

Elizabeth nodded comprehension. "You're right! There's no reason… so how did they get there?" She looked uneasy, and Peter's response was quiet.

"Someone wanted him framed." Peter stared at the wall, then wrapped his wife in a hug. "It's a possibility. It's certainly possible... Thanks, El." He brushed a kiss over her head. "You are, and always will be, my best consultant."

"And such a bargain," Elizabeth smiled up at him. "I'll collect later." They kissed, and she cupped his cheek in her hand. Softly she whispered, more seriously, "Good luck, hon."

"Thanks. I'm pretty sure I'll need it."

"And Peter? For my sake? Try to take it easy... on both of you. You're both good men."

He opened the door and their eyes met, the mutual warmth undeniable. "I'll do what I can." A warm smile lit his eyes. "Love you."

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In the early afternoon Elizabeth Burke walked across the small park, bag in hand. Someone had left a message for a lunch appointment, and she was pretty sure she knew who it was. As she reached the table beneath the trees, she opened the bag, took out two sandwiches and two cups of tea. By the time she was done, a man was sitting across from her.

"Excellent taste, as usual, Mrs. Suit."

"Thanks, Mozzie. I had to guess." She passed him a napkin. "Is Neal okay?"

"I was hoping the Suit knew something. I haven't talked to him since…"

"Oh." Elizabeth sounded disappointed, and bit her sandwich thoughtfully. "It's just so hard to watch, every time they're at odds... Moz? Do you think they'll be able to get past this one? Or are they just fated to keep on banging heads, over and over… until someone finally breaks? It seems that every time..." She put down her sandwich and stared at it for a moment.

The little man took a sip of tea and shrugged. "Men at some times are masters of their fates; the fault, dear Elizabeth, is not in our stars, but in ourselves…"

Elizabeth looked at him and couldn't help but smile at the distorted Shakespeare, sipping her tea. Then she took a deep breath. "Who'd want to frame Neal?"

Moz snorted. "Who wouldn't?"

"I mean it, Mozzie. Who would go to these lengths…" Her gaze grew distant as she paused, thinking of conversations she'd had with her husband about this very subject. "Someone who knew him this well. I mean, the paintings… someone would really have to know that he had those, that he painted enough to…"

Mozzie stared into his cup as if he could read the future in his tea. He took a deep breath and blew it out. "Someone who knew him really, really well, and really, really wanted billions of dollars in treasure." He locked eyes with Elizabeth and the words tumbled out quickly. "I sincerely hope it isn't who I think it may be."

They stared at each other for a long minute, before El replied with a sigh. "Thus we play the fools with the time, and the spirits of the wise sit in the clouds and mock us." They smiled at the Shakespeare lightly before looking away, each in their own thoughts of what might be; each concerned not only with two distinct individuals, but with a broken partnership.

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...You lie, in faith; for you are call'd plain Kate,
And bonny Kate and sometimes Kate the curst ...

unsure, the author asked humbly for her readers opinions…