STRONG TIES

AN: I just finished watching the season 2 DVD of 'White Collar' and it's got me thinking of an White Collar/NCIS crossover. In my AU Neal and Tony are childhood friends. They were in military school together. They each went their own ways in life, but stayed in touch. Neal, of course, not letting Tony in on his 'entire' life. Now NCIS is in need of Neal's kind of expertise.

I wrote this story like I was going to divide it up into chapters and post it. But I decided instead to just post it as one story. I also left the ANs at the beginning of the chapters just because I felt they provided the required explanation.

But mostly I wrote this story to explore a buddy relationship between Tony and Neal, and I think it worked out pretty well. Enjoy.

"I know a guy, Boss." Tony replied hesitantly.

"Okay," Gibbs nodded. "…Get him in here."

Ziva stood and grabbed her coat, ready to follow Tony out of the building.

"That's gonna be kind of difficult." Tony admitted.

"And why is that, DiNozzo?" Gibbs irritation was beginning to show. "Either get him in here, or we go with something, someone else. What's the problem?"

"He's in New York and he can't exactly…leave." Tony said.

"And why is that, DiNozzo?" Gibbs practically growled. "What is it you aren't telling me?"

Tony took a breath and rattled off what he had been so very hesitant to tell Gibbs. "My friend's name is Neal Caffrey. We…We met in military school and stayed friends after. He moved all over the US but we always kept in touch. Anyway, he dropped out of school. That was why he was in military school. But he got kicked out of there, too. He got into some 'less than legal' stuff. He has a great mind, Boss. His IQ was off the charts. He loves art. He can look at anything and reproduce it. It's a great talent…which led to…."

By this time a picture of Neal was plastered on the plasma.

Gibbs read from the screen. "….being caught by Agent Peter Burke of the White Collar Crimes unit in New York for art forgery and theft."

Tony nodded. "He…Neal's a good guy." He paused. "I mean aside from the theft and forgery thing."

"Uh, huh." Gibbs said, warily. "So, why is it he can't come to D.C.? Is he still in jail?" The info from his file was not as complete as Gibbs would have liked.

Tony sighed and waited for his headslap. "He's kind of confined to a 2-mile radius of the FBI's main office in New York. He wears an anklet. He's serving out his sentence as an FBI Consultant for the White Collar division."

Tony was not disappointed. "We want the piece, examined, DiNozzo! NOT stolen. Not forged! Examined."

Tony nodded, rubbing the back of his head. "I understand that, Boss. But if anybody can find a hidden message in this thing, if there is one, it'll be Neal."

Gibbs sighed and looked at to the 4th floor landing, dreading his talk with the director. "Look, I gotta go convince Vance this is a trip we NEED to take on the government's dime." Gibbs started toward the stairs. "Your friend better deliver. Go down to Abby and have her wrap the painting and ship it to the New York office. Vance will call and make all the arrangements."

-New York-A few hours later-

"I just got a very strange and disturbing message from a Leon Vance, the Director of NCIS in Washington, D.C. He said he needed to have a painting examined and that you are they guy to do it."

Neal seemed to have no expression.

"What exactly does that mean? What's going on?" Peter questioned. "And why did this come to me? Hughes approved it and forwarded all the information to me. He said the director asked 'specifically' for you. He said an Agent Gibbs and an Agent DiNozzo would be flying in, in a day or two. They had already sent the 'evidence' ahead so we would have a head start on examining it, some sort of hidden message it's supposed to contain."

A small smile crossed Neal's face, but disappeared quickly.

"I saw that, Neal. If you're running another scheme, if this is some kind of joke. I…I'll send you back. I promise you I will. And I'll make sure you spend every day you have left in solitary." Peter threatened.

Neal grinned again. "It's nothing like that, Peter."

"Then what IS it like?" Peter asked, hands on hips, waiting for an answer.

Neal just looked at him for minute. "What is that, the hands on the hips thing? Is that something they teach in FBI school? Rule 1…" Neal said using an authoritative voice. "…put your hands on your hips and you will intimidate your suspect and foil their fiendish plans."

Peter removed his hands from his hips.

"Is that like an FBI superpower?" Neal chuckled. "Now all you need is a cape."

"Get out of my office! Go!' Peter said, clearly annoyed.

Neal chuckled as he left the office. His expression changed as soon as he left. He would be very glad to see Tony. It had been a few years. But still, his visit had Neal worried.

WC/NCIS WC/NCIS WC/NCIS WC/NCIS

"I need this place clear, Mozzie." Neal said. "Anything involved with anything you're planning needs to be out of here. Gone!" Neal said helping Mozzie rid the place of any 'evidence' of any schemes. "Tony has a photographic memory, and he's like a dog with a bone."

"He's a fed." Mozzie said, putting the gathered items into a bag. "How bad…?"

"Peter knows 'Neal the con.'" Neal replied. "Tony knows 'Neal the man.'"

"Oh." Mozzie said, getting Neal's point.

"Oh, is right." Neal said. "And when Tony comes to my apartment, that's what he's gonna see, not the con."

"You mean, he doesn't know?" Mozzie asked, surprised.

Neal sighed, then nodded. "He knows. I never told him. But he knows. He 'investigates' for a living."

"What kind of investigations?" Mozzie asked, a little afraid for his own cover.

"He's been a detective with the police. He does crime scene investigations now." Neal explained, giving the highlights.

"Oh CSI, I can appreciate that." Mozzie zipped the bag as Neal looked around one last time. "The attention to detail…."

"Okay," Neal said, satisfied. "…we're clear."

Mozzie left soon after, taking the items with him.

WC/NCIS WC/NCIS WC/NCIS

Peter had the painting unwrapped and had it lying on the table in their meeting room when Neal came in the next morning.

"Well, Neal, here it is, just arrived today." Peter said as soon as Neal walked into the room.

Neal looked carefully at the subject. It's called The Scream, or, more accurately, Der Schrei der Natur (The Scream of Nature). It's the popular name given to each of four versions. They were created as both painting and pastels, by the Expressionist artist Edvard Munch between 1893 and 1910. Each shows a figure with an agonized expression against a landscape with a tumultuous red sky. The landscape in the background is the Oslofjod, viewed from Ekeberg, Oslo, Norway. This one is a pretty clever one, actually."

Neal straightened up and looked at Peter. "I would have to compare it against pictures of the original. But…what exactly are they looking for?"

"They were 'appropriately vague.'" Peter said.

"Which is 'fed speak' for they don't know what they're looking for." Neal stated.

"Pretty much." Peter started to pace. "These guys, these navy cops. I checked them out. Agent Gibbs is pretty tough. He's…he's a Marine, no nonsense kind of guy." Peter explained. "And this Agent DiNozzo is his second in command. They have a high success rate, Neal. I get the feeling you don't fool around with…."

"I got it, Peter." Neal said, looking up from studying the painting.

"This Gibbs is a bad ass, Neal." Peter restated, so Neal would get the point. "I don't need to be looking bad in front of a sister agency.

"Understood." Neal replied. He was still unsure of telling Peter about knowing Tony. He just had to be sure he was not messed, inadvertently, of course, in any military business. The thought of Tony possibly being after him for something, too, made him very, very uncomfortable.

WC/NCIS WC/NCIS WC/NCIS

"Mozzie, just…just check it out for me." Neal pleaded.

Mozzie looked at his friend. He had never seen Neal quite so rattled before.

"Look, it's just that I know Tony. I know how his mind works." Neal said pacing his room. "If he has something, if he 'thinks' he has something, he won't let it go."

"Okay, Okay." Mozzie relented. "I'll check it out. But I can't see how our… 'recent activity' had…."

"Just check, Moz, okay, just check."

Mozzie got up to leave. He nodded and then headed out the door. Moz called a couple of hours later. They were in the clear with the military. Nothing to worry about there, Moz had told him. Neal collapsed onto his couch, thoroughly relieved. Now, he could really enjoy Tony's visit.

TBC

Chapter 2

AN: Some of you may recognize the name Hastenburg and the painting referred to as 'Young Girl With Locket' from Season 1. I did an Internet search. It gave me only a picture of the painting and a name, C. Hastenburg. So the history of the painting and the artist himself are completely made up. Enjoy.

Neal watched, somewhat amused, as Peter paced his office.

"You're gonna sweat through your suit." Neal said as he watched Peter.

"That noticeable, huh?" Peter replied as he straightened his tie. He continued to pace. "Military…all that 'Sir' stuff, it just reminds me of my Dad. Yes, Sir. No, Sir. I was the only kid at my school who 'didn't' call their dad, Dad." Peter straightened his tie for the millionth time.

"I didn't know your dad was military."

"He wasn't. I mean, not really." Peter replied. "He did his tour, like most young men did in his generation. It's just, when he came home, he kept the hair cut. And he kept the discipline."

Neal nodded. "You know…I really should tell you…."

"They're here." Peter said.

Neal looked at Peter, noting his nervousness. "You're meeting a fellow fed, not asking Elizabeth out for the first time." Neal paused. "Look Peter, I really need…."

"Can it wait, Neal?" Peter asked as he watched a junior agent point Gibbs and DiNozzo in the direction of his office.

Neal sighed, then muttered.. "You'll find out soon enough."

Peter introduced himself to Gibbs and DiNozzo. He then introduced them to Neal. They all shook hands.

"Let me see it." Tony requested, looking at Neal.

Neal sighed. He propped his leg up on a chair. The anklet showed under the hem of his pants.

By this time Diana and Jones were in the room and quick introductions had been made. Everyone in the room looked at Neal and Tony, very confused.

Tony smiled. "So what, when you go out of your invisible fence, it zaps you?"

"Oh, hilarious, you're a real comedian." Neal smiled. He paused. "It's good to see you again, Tony."

"You too, Neal." Tony said as they quickly embraced.

"So, you two know each other?" Peter observed addressing both Tony and Neal. "You should have told me." He said to Neal as an aside.

The others in the room were still getting over their confusion.

"I tried, but…" Neal started.

"Later, Neal." Peter said, ending the conversation.

"We met in military school. I was a couple years older. He…" Tony explained, reading Peter's reaction. "…we became friends. I decided to work within the law. He decided to…color outside the lines."

"I like the way you put that, great metaphor." Neal replied to Tony.

"Thank you." Tony replied.

"You were in military school!" Jones and Diana said almost simultaneously.

"Top of his class in firearms." Tony added.

Jones, Diana and Peter looked at Neal on that one. Neal shrugged. "I don't like them. That doesn't mean I don't know how to use one."

"Stroll down memory lane on your own time, DiNozzo." Gibbs said, finally speaking up. "We have a job to do. We don't have time to waste."

"Sure, Boss." Tony replied to Gibbs. "What about it, Neal?" Tony asked, referring to the painting.

They all gathered around the table where the painting lay. "Well, as I told Agent Burke before, it's one of 4 works entitled The Scream. They were created as both painting and pastels, by the Expressionist artist Edvard Munch between 1893 and 1910. Each painting shows a figure with an agonized expression. The landscape in the background is the Oslofjod, viewed from Ekeberg, Oslo, Norway. And this is a pretty good reproduction. But that's all it is, a reproduction. No real value in the painting itself, the paint and style used are way too modern. It's a knockoff, a pretty clever one, but still a knock-off."

"Why a clever one?" Tony asked.

They matched the paper in look, but not in texture. There are brushstrokes here. Those are not visible on a lithograph." Neal explained. "Munch made a plate and reproduced his works. But he made only about 7 prints. The plate was destroyed. The lithographs are the only ones 'thought' to still be in circulation. The originals are in private or museum collections."

"Thought to be in circulation, so they could still be 'out there.'?" Gibbs speculated.

Neal nodded. "They could be, Agent Gibbs, but it's unlikely. Collectors pay millions, museums know that. It is most likely they spend their days locked up in safes. They are probably only brought out for special viewings."

"Well, agents, we found a dead Marine with this painting in his trunk. We need to know if it's worth dying for." Tony explained their current case.

"Well, like I said, it's fake. It's a damned good fake, but it's still a fake." Neal replied.

"But good enough to fool a novice?" Gibbs asked.

"Definitely." Neal replied. "The last original sold here in New York for close to 120 million."

"Wow, really?" Tony asked.

Neal nodded. "But somewhere, somebody down the line is going to see it's fake. There's going to be a trail. There is no honor among thieves. You put a gun in a guy's face and threaten to kill him. And he will tell you pretty much anything you want to know to save his own ass. The guy at the bottom of the food chain has a target on his back really quick. He needs to authenticate, and so will everybody up the line. This piece wouldn't fool many people at all."

"Is there something hidden in it?" Tony asked. "I know a lot of artists sign their work." He looked pointedly at Neal.

"Tony, I…."

Tony nodded. "We'll talk about it."

Neal nodded and continued. No one else in the room had a clue what was going on between Tony and Neal. They all looked at each other in confusion.

"That's true, forgers do tend to make a special 'mark' on their work." Neal examined the painting closely. "I am not really seeing anything here. But…that doesn't mean much, necessarily." Neal picked the painting up. "Have you taken it out of its frame?"

Tony shook his head. "Our forensic scientist said she would not take a chance on destroying a work of art. Especially when she found out we had called in an expert."

Neal nodded. "That's good." He said as he carefully separated the piece from its frame. "It's the custom of the wealthy to hide the good paintings behind the bad ones. They also hide other valuable things too. Auctions of said painting have discovered many an historical document." Neal then examined staples on the frame. "There are two sets of staples here. Someone has stretched this canvas over the original."

Everybody was silent and Neal carefully separated the layers, exposing the painting beneath.

"Well," Neal said, when the painting was revealed. "…this would definitely be worth dying for."

TBC

Chapter 3

AN: I am basically repeating the AN from chapter 2 here. So, short and sweet, I could find no information so I made some up.

"What is it, exactly?" Peter said. The subject was a young girl with a dark back ground. It seemed rather unremarkable.

"Why is it so…special?" Gibbs asked.

"It's not really that nice a painting." Tony agreed.

"It's a Hastenberg." Neal nodded. "It's called very simply, 'Young Girl With Locket.' It is pretty unremarkable. But it's the story that makes the painting valuable. If it's real, it is one of the few known portraits done of a young princess. She died only months after this painting was completed. The necklace was her favorite. It was buried with her. It was a valuable piece, worth, in the 1600's a few thousand. The family crypt was robbed only days after her funeral. Her coffin was opened, along with several others. It was estimated 5 million dollars worth of jewels were taken, today's value."

"So, what is the painting worth?" Peter asked.

"I can't give you an exact figure. But I would guess over 10 million, just because of the rarity." Neal stated.

"How many are there?" Gibbs asked.

Neal shook his head. "I'm not sure. Evidently Hastenburg found the girl beautiful. He painted several portraits and just gave them away. Art researchers have said 5. Three are accounted for, museums and private collections. But those other two…."

"What about the jewels?" Tony asked. "Have any of the jewels surfaced?"

"Not in the past 100 years. Last heard, they were part of an English monarch's private collection. The locket anyway, but you can bet a painting is not far behind." Neal replied.

"Why is that?" Peter asked.

"Hastenburg is rumored to have sketched the locket in detail on the back of one of the paintings. This could be used to authenticate the locket. But there is no guarantee the sketch is even legible at this point." Neal said as he studied the painting.

Everyone in the room was silent again as Neal scrutinized the artwork.

"So, is…?" Tony asked, breaking the silence.

"The canvas and paint are right for the period. It shows the proper amount of aging." Neal observed out loud. "It is a technique Hastenburg used, though he used several." Neal turned the painting over. "What the…canvases are not this thick."

Neal looked at Tony and held out his hand. Tony produced the knife from his belt buckle and gave it to Neal.

"Rule number 9." Neal stated.

Gibbs nodded and smiled.

Peter looked at them all in confusion.

"Never go anywhere without a knife." Gibbs and Tony said in unison.

They all turned their attention to Neal who was carefully removing this last canvas from its frame, using the sharp blade to separate the edges. He then pulled back a second layer, a backing. There was a faint drawing on the back of the original painting.

"Wow," Neal said after he had separated the two layers. "…this is an original, no doubt now. This second canvas was put on to hide the sketch and to protect it."

Neal laid the painting on the table.

Tony got up and was staring intently at the painting.

"What is it?" Neal asked. "What do you see?"

He took out the mini CSI kit that he carried. He unzipped the pouch and took out gloves, a pair of tweezers and a magnifying glass. He put the gloves on and used the tweezers to pluck a tiny white fiber off the front of the painting. He grabbed a piece of paper and turned it over. He laid the fiber on it. He then pulled loose fibers from the 3 canvas. He laid those fibers down for a comparison.

"Do you see what I'm seeing?" Tony asked after looking at them through the magnifier. He handed the magnifying glass to Neal.

Neal studied the fibers. He looked up at Tony with a big smile on his face.

"Care to share with the rest of the class, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked, irritated.

"This one was stuck to the original painting. It has a security fiber running through it." Tony replied.

"As in money?" Gibbs asked. "So, our art thief is also a counterfeiter."

"Maybe not." Neal replied. "The painting might have been just a vessel to carry the paper."

"Then why not use dogs playing poker as your vessel?" Gibbs asked.

"Because you want the emphasis to be on the painting, not the paper." Neal explained. "If you passed a cheap painting around like it was something valuable, people would go looking for the value. But if you pass a good knock off around…."

"…people are looking at the painting, not what's behind it." Tony said.

"But that doesn't explain the actual valuable painting." Pete stated.

"Either someone doesn't know their art history, or they didn't bother to look." Neal guessed.

"So this Marine, in D.C., most likely not an art connoisseur, wants the paper." Gibbs replied as he and Peter studied Tony's find.

"Then, whoever killed him, they didn't take the painting. But they removed the paper." Tony replied. "Our Marine had outlived his usefulness it seems."

Peter nodded. "His job was to make the delivery, which he did. He then gets shut up permanently. No loose ends."

"You can't move many sheets in any one painting." Neal pointed out. "The painting would be too heavy and it would be too thick. I'm guessing two to three sheets which would make a few thousand dollars in one hundred dollar bills." Neal paused. "If this is a small operation, there may only be a few paintings floating around."

"If it's a large operation…." Gibbs started.

"…which it most likely is. The equipment is expensive. The papers are hard to come by, and the inks are very difficult to reproduce. Once you get the right formula…you don't want to just print only a few pages. You're not even covering your overhead that way."

Gibbs and Tony nodded.

"So, we go back to D.C. and follow the money trail. At least we know what we're really looking at here." Gibbs replied. "I'll get our people working on it." Gibbs began to make the phone calls.

TBC

Chapter 4

AN: I addressed Neal's past 'before Caffrey' years. I gave a name based on the actor's initials, B.S.M.

"So, this is it, huh?" Tony said, looking around Neal's apartment.

"My humble abode." Neal replied.

Tony looked at him. "Hardly, not in this house with this view…" Tony continued to look around. "…and this wine collection."

"I bought the wine." Neal stated. "The FBI pays for the apartment, utilities, etc. Then I got a per diem for food, etc."

Tony got serious. "You didn't con that sweet lady did you? Tell me you didn't con June."

Neal shook his head. "She knows she should be charging 4 times what she charges me. She knows I'm a con, and she knows I wear an anklet."

Tony looked at him.

"She likes me."

Tony sighed. "Of course she does."

Neal approached the subject carefully. "I'm not on your radar…am I?"

Tony didn't answer immediately. "Should you be?"

"No."

"Good, because you're not." Tony replied as he sat down on the couch. "But don't give me a reason to start looking. I'm here to see you, Neal. I want to just catch up with an old friend."

Neal sighed in relief and sat down beside him. He looked at his friend. "Gibbs is every bit as scary as you said he was."

Tony nodded. "But Diana…she doesn't look lethal. And are you sure she…plays for the other team?"

Neal nodded.

"Such a shame, she's a beautiful woman." Tony got up again. He went outside to enjoy the view.

Neal followed him.

"This place is amazing." Tony was silent for a moment. "What are you going to do after this?" He asked, meaning Neal's agreement with Agent Burke.

Neal considered Tony's question.

"I mean, you've seen it from the other side now." Tony explained. "You're not planning the con. But you get to figure it out. It was really nice to see you 'in action' by the way."

"You too…" Neal replied. "…and to answer your question, it does have a certain appeal, for sure. I still get the rush of adrenaline without the risk of jail time." Neal replied.

Neal stood silent for a moment.

"When I started this, Burke was…he was just a way for me to get out of jail." Neal said, staring out at the view. "I never intended to get to know him, much less like him. But I do like him. And he has a great wife, Elle. And they have the coolest dog."

"You've been to his house?" Tony asked, surprised.

"Yeah, the first time I had just made the agreement with him, and he had just gotten me released." Neal stated. "I just wanted to…."

"Know your enemy." Tony replied.

"Something like that." Neal conceded. "And he likes me. I just…."

"Once you get past the con…and the charm. We both know how superficial that can be."

Neal nodded.

"Once you get past all that, there really is a genuine person underneath who is truly worth knowing."

Neal smiled and ducked his head.

"How did Burke handle you in his house?" Tony asked, knowing he would love the answer.

"He was pissed." Neal said. "No, he was beyond pissed." He paused. "But Elle, she liked me immediately. She stood up for me. Peter told me to get out and Elle said I could stay."

Both men stood silent for a moment.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Tony asked.

Neal remained silent.

"Imagine me cruising through the FBIs Wanted postings and seeing a 'Neal Caffrey' who looks suspiciously like the guy I knew as somebody else. Imagine then when I looked up this Neal and found out he didn't exist before you turned 18." Tony said.

Neal went back into his apartment. Tony followed. He got two wine glasses out of the cabinet and poured them both some wine. He sat both glassed down on the table.

Neal sat down and took a sip before he spoke. "What was I supposed to say, Tony? We took such different paths in life. I found out you were in the academy and then when you went to work. I was so proud of you, making detective after one year."

"You kept up with me?" Tony asked smiling.

"It wasn't hard. It seemed you were in the papers every other week." Neal replied. Neal got up out of his seat. He went to the china cabinet by his kitchen table and removed a panel. He reached inside the opening and brought out a photo album. Neal laid the album on the table. He replaced the panel, then picked up the album again and handed it to Tony.

"What's this?" Tony said as he opened the book.

Neal was quiet as he watched Tony look at it.

"I don't know what to say, Neal." Tony said after he had looked at the whole album and closed the cover.

"I was so proud of you, of your accomplishments. But I knew you wouldn't feel the same." Neal explained. "I mean, we couldn't have taken more different paths. I had to do what I knew. And I knew art. I had a talent for it. I could paint. I had a good eye for that stuff. I just…."

Tony started to speak, but Neal silenced him.

"I mean, I know you know my past. I know you know all about me, my aliases. When we would move…when mom would get a few job, it was just easier to re-invent myself. I wasn't even sure I remembered my given name…it's been so long."

"Does Agent Burke know?"

Neal shook his head. "He knows Neal Caffrey didn't exist until I turned 18, that's it."

"You need to tell him…everything."

"I know." Neal replied.

"Do you trust him?"

Neal nodded.

"Then tell him."

TBC

Chapter 5

AN: I am a little behind on my WC viewing. I have not seen all of S3. So if this is posted before I see it, please forgive the inconsistencies. Since, according to season 2, Neal's past before age 18 is kind of dubious. I am going to make up a past for him.

Neal looked very preoccupied to Peter. He seemed to be staring off into space. He then blinked, coming back to the present. Neal had been thinking about what Tony had said since hehad left June's. Neal knew Tony was right.

Peter sat down on his couch, beside Neal. "You called me and asked to come over, but…."

Neal nodded. "I know."

"Is this about Agents DiNozzo and Gibbs…the painting?" Peter asked, trying to figure out why Neal was being so quiet.

"It's about Tony, indirectly." Neal replied. "He reminded me of something I should have done a long time ago."

"And what is that?" Peter asked.

"I know you knew my dad was bad cop. And you couldn't find any information before the age of 18 for Neal Caffrey. It's all true." Neal paused. "My dad was a detective in Philly in the 70's. He was a good cop, at first. When he first came out of the academy, he was the best…honest, the whole bit. But there were detectives in his department who dragged him into illegal activities. He started small, stealing confiscated items from the evidence lock up. But he graduated quickly. Meanwhile….

"Neal, you don't have to…." Peter replied, seeing Neal struggling.

Neal shook his head. "Tony is the only one who knows that whole story. It's painful and it's humiliating. But you need to know."

"Neal, you don't…." Peter repeated.

"I do. You and Elle have opened your home, your lives to me. And I haven't been open at all. I want to change that." Neal said. "I want you to know how much I appreciate you letting me in like that."

Peter understood. He nodded, and Neal continued.

"Like I was saying, Dad would come home and tell Mom he was getting raises he was doing well on the job. She believed it all. She believed everything he said. And I was too young to know any better. I just knew Mom and Dad appeared to be happy. I had the American dream as far as I was concerned." Neal paused. "One day, I come home from school, I was 6 ½ and I see my dad being led away in handcuffs. I went up to the officers and told them to leave him alone. I started kicking and punching them. My mom had to pull me off. I didn't understand what was going on." Neal sighed. "It turned out my dad had been under investigation for over a year. He had not known it and had continued to conduct his illegal activities. It took a year because they wanted to make sure they busted all the rotten cops at one time."

Neal got up from the chair. Peter took the time to go into the kitchen and grab them both a beer. He handed one to Neal before he sat down again. Neal took a swallow or two before he sat back down.

"We lived in a nice little tight-knit community, all cops and former cops in the neighborhood. In a day's time we were treated as pariah. It…Mom and I were not guilty of anything, of course. But we bore the brunt of the backlash. Dad had been carted off to jail to await trial. But before long we were getting things spray-painted on the house. The other cops and their wives avoided us. I got beaten up at school, on a regular basis, for being the kid of a bad cop. Mom lost Dad's pension. In less than a month we didn't have any money to our names. The landlord had served a foreclosure notice. And Mom had pulled me out of school. She was tired of seeing me coming home with bloody noses and black eyes."

Peter just sat and stared at Neal trying to absorb all he was hearing.

"I was born Matthew Steven Bernard. But when we moved Mom changed our names. We lived in Texas, Amarillo, for a while as Rita and Sam Greene. Then we moved again. Mom found a new boyfriend. A long haul trucker, his home base was in Las Vegas. By this time my dad, his name was Martin Gerald Bernard. He was sentenced for many counts of theft and I don't know what else. His sentence was 50 years."

"Was?" Peter asked.

"He died in prison. Someone found out he was a dirty cop." Neal said. "He was killed while working in the prison laundry. One of the other inmates had stabbed him with a sharpened end of a toothbrush. This guy had been sent to prison by my dad on a wrongful conviction."

"Neal." Peter said, expressing his sympathy.

Neal shook his head. "By this time I was about 10 years old. And I hated my father. I hated all cops. I thought that they were all bad. I figured they all were just waiting for the right opportunity to be 'on the take.' So, anyway, Vegas lasted about 3 years. This guy turned out to be a pretty good guy. But he was rarely home, so Mom got bored and left. We then went to Baltimore. We had changed our names again by this time. We lived with mom's sister for a while there. She was sympathetic and went along with it. She told everybody, outside the family, that we were cousins in from out of state, visiting. They all bought it. After that things went downhill for my mom. She got involved with losers who got her hooked on alcohol and heroine. After that when we moved, it was to escape police on drug charges or to escape abusive boyfriends, sometimes both. And each of these moves came with a name change. So, at an early age I learned to forge driver's licenses, birth certificates. I made us both up passports, just in case. But it was not…to be criminal. It was to survive. Each school I went to needed certain things. My mom would call the school and ask what was needed. I would go to the public library and study the document. I would then reproduce it."

Peter nodded, he had no idea Neal had had such a hard life. He waited for Neal to continue.

"I had, I think, about 20 aliases before I turned 18." Neal rattled off a list of names. "Then when I turned 16 I decided to get a part time job. Mom was with another loser who didn't like me. I wanted to be out of the house as much as possible, so I got a job delivering pizza. I had stolen an old clunker from a half-blind, senile old man who owned a junkyard not far from where we were living. I knew he would never miss it." Neal paused. "It wasn't long before Mom and her loser boyfriend started living off me, taking my money. He would slap me around when I refused to give it to him, and she would let him."

"Neal!" Peter said, shaking his head.

"I had dropped out of school a few years before that. We moved so often, and I could never catch up. We never stayed in one place very long, so making friends was hard."

"So, how did military school come about?" Peter asked.

Neal smiled. "My mom's parents stepped in on that. They found out the type of life I was living and didn't approve. They said for Mom to live that way was fine, that was her choice, but they didn't approve of me living like that. So, they found us, I think we were in New Mexico at the time. They brought me to a school in Maine, near them so they could keep an eye on me. But I had seen too much of life. I was so far behind in all subjects. But I got caught up, and Tony helped. He stepped in. He recognized the anger in me. He had felt it, too. He knew where I was coming from. He understood how I felt. But, it…it was just too little, too late. I had lived that horrible lifestyle for so long. I didn't know what it meant to have just simple things. Like my own bed. I didn't know what it meant to sit down and have a meal, to carry on a conversation. I had been so busy all my life trying to keep one step ahead of the curve. As far as I was concerned everybody wanted something, you just needed to figure out what it was. I did well for a while. But I got kicked out after about 3 years. I found my mom again. I didn't want to go back. But I didn't have anywhere else to go. It was then that I started the pizza thing. I moved out shortly after the incident with the boyfriend. I moved away, out of state, and I changed my name again. I, again, made myself the necessary papers and got another job." Neal paused. "I had always visited art exhibits. It kept me out of the house. I would set for hours and draw. Then I would go home and try to paint from memory what I had seen. I got really good at it. I started selling my paintings to support myself. I never made much, but it helped. A little while later some people of a not-so stellar-reputation recognized my talent. I got involved in increasingly illegal stuff. Then, on a whim, I moved to New York. The rest, as they say, is history."

"Wow, Neal." Peter said. "I don't…."

"I know." Neal replied. "It's a lot. I owe Tony so much. He was really my first true friend. It wasn't long after I met him I spilled my guts to him. I told him everything. He…he didn't run away or judge me for my past. He didn't think I was a bad person because of the things that had happened to me." Neal paused. "He just…he didn't care. He didn't give a damn about my past. He just accepted it all. He accepted me."

"So, if he…." Peter asked.

Neal smiled and laughed. "Don't worry. If he caught me doing anything illegal he would nail my ass to the wall."

Peter looked at him unconvinced.

Neal handed Peter the scrapbook he had shown Tony earlier. "I didn't tell Tony anything about my life after I left military school. But, I would send him postcards. Short little messages, I just wanted him to know I was okay. Then when I got an email address, it made things a lot easier. But I still never told him about…what was really going on." Neal confessed. "I never figured I'd have to. I knew he would find out. He was an excellent police detective before he joined NCIS. He's like a dog with a bone. That is one of the annoying things you two have in common."

"One?" Peter said, he closed the album and set it aside.

"He is every bit as good an agent as you are." Neal continued. "He has your integrity. He's so 'by the book' it's scary. And…and this is the best part…he remembers that he is not just dealing with a crime, a list of charges, he's dealing with a person. People tend to lose sight of that."

Peter nodded, he appreciated the comparison.

TBC

Chapter 6

Agents Gibbs and DiNozzo were waiting for Peter when we walked into his office.

"Agent Burke…" Gibbs started as Peter invited him and Tony to take a seat. "…we would like to thank you for letting us 'borrow' Mr. Caffrey. We have all we need and will be heading back to D.C. in a couple of hours. We have turned the painting over to you to return to its rightful owners. We just need to solve the death of our Marine now. I thank you, again, so much, for all your assistance."

Peter stood, prompting both Tony and Gibbs to stand. They shook hands all around. Gibbs then turned to leave the office.

Tony looked at Gibbs. "I just need a few minutes, Gibbs." Gibbs nodded and left.

Tony then turned his attention back to Peter. "Neal really likes you. I know that." Tony paused, his green eyes seeming to penetrate Peter's soul. "And I really think you like him. I mean genuinely like him."

Peter nodded, unsure of what Tony was getting at.

"He's come a long way from the angry kid I met in military school. And I know he's put a lot of that behind him. I just hope, now that you know the whole story, you can help him put it all behind him."

"How did you…?" Peter asked surprised.

"I encouraged him to talk to you, to tell you everything." Tony admitted. "I know why he kept things from me. I don't like it. But I know why. I understand why, and I have forgiven him for it." Tony paused. "He's not going to lie to you, Peter. He'll always answer your questions truthfully. But I have learned you do need to know which questions to ask."

Peter nodded. He was truly beginning to understand that.

Tony stuck out his hand again. They shook hands. "It was really nice meeting you. I am glad you are the one looking out for Neal." Tony paused. "Would it be okay if I called you and checked up on Neal?"

Peter hesitated.

"I talked to Neal about it. It's okay with him." Tony explained. "I'll be talking to him pretty often, too. Like I said, I'm glad you're looking out for him."

"Working with Neal has been an…experience." Peter admitted. "And you are right, I do like him. He's given me a new prospective…on a lot of things."

Tony smiled. "Neal is worth the effort, Agent Burke. I think you believe that too, or you wouldn't have kept him as your CI."

Peter nodded. "He is most definitely worth it."

THE END