A/N: Hello. This is my second story. If you have been reading my other story, Growing Pains, you will need to be aware of a few contradiction. First, you will meet Neal's mother, and her name most likely won't be the same as it will be in Growing Pains. Second, Gale takes no place in Growing Pains. And third, in this story, Neal's mother had a few boyfriends in the years while Neal was growing up, but in Growing Pains, she has stayed single. Thank-you, enjoy. –A

Chapter 1: Stranger

Neal Caffrey was walking, coffee in hand, to his place of 'employment.' This man was a convicted felon. He had escaped the super-max he'd been damned to for four years with three months left on his sentence. Why would someone so smart pull a stupid move like that? Simple, Kate. Kate Moreau had been the young con's true love, but she dumped him with four and a half months left. Her weekly visits were the only things that kept Neal sane. He knew he had to find her. The young man broke out. He had literally walked out the front door. When he got to the building she'd been staying in, the only thing he found was an empty Bordeaux bottle. The young man had missed her by two days. Agent Peter Burke, the only fed to ever catch the elusive con, found him again. Running had earned Neal another four years in the super-max. Neal found a security fiber for the new Canadian hundred on the agent's jacket. He agreed to meet Neal back in prison in one week. The two cut a deal. The con was released into the custody of the FBI with a GPS tracking anklet locked on his leg, creating a leash of a two mile radius. He was often referred to as Peter's pet convict.

Neal didn't particularly want to go into the Bureau at the moment because Peter was seriously pissed at the young man. The agent had accused his partner of stealing the greatest treasure in the world. Neal knew where it was, but he wasn't the one who'd stolen in. That's why he had the coffee. It was some of June's Italian roast, Peter's favorite. It was Neal's pathetic attempt to soften the agent up.

Lost in thought, the con didn't notice a strangely dressed girl staring at him under the pretence of reading a newspaper. People all around the handsome young man were staring, befuddled by the girl's appearance. She was wearing a pair of cameo knee-length shorts and an old black tank top. On her head was a blue cameo fishing hat which covered her long, curly, brown hair. Large white sunglasses stopped the world from seeing her eyes. Rather than sensible shoes, she wore brown flip-flops.

A feral smile lit the odd girl's obscured face. It was beautiful and dangerous at the same time; her teeth were straight, white, perfect. She walked toward the con man. As she neared him, she looked away, purposely bumping into Neal. Her hand reached into the man's pocket, grabbing at a wallet. She went to pull it out when a hand closed around her wrist.

"Nice try, kid," they young con said.

"It's been a while, stranger," she responded with a perky smile.

"Do I know you?" His brow was furrowed slightly as he thought.

"You should," she told him matter-of-factly, pulling off her hat and glasses, and turning to face Neal.

Realization lit his face. "Gale."