Warning- Spoilers for late season 3 & early season 4. If you don't know who Ellen Parker is, don't read.

A/N- In "Diminishing Returns", Neal says that he grew up in witness protection under the name Danny Brooks, and in "Stealing Home", he mentions that he learned to play pool at the age of nine because there was a pool hall on the way home from school. We also know from "Forging Bonds" that Neal was accomplished at street cons and forgeries before he met Mozzie. This is my take on how he might have learned some of that stuff.

Disclaimer- I don't own White collar.

Gathering his courage, the young boy eased open the door and ducked inside. The interior of the pool hall was dark, smoky, and cool, in direct contrast to the blistering sunlight outside.

Danny felt like he'd entered a whole new world. Players, predominantly men, lounged around tables or against the bar. They smoked and drank, both things that Danny hated at home, but something about how they held themselves was different. Sure, there was the occasional soul hunched over their drink like it was all they could see in the world, just like Mom on her bad days, but the others-

The others had grace.

Right then and there, Danny decided that he would learn that grace, that confidence, so that he could be the one who looked like they fit no matter where they were.

"Hey, kid." It took Danny a minute to realize that he was being addressed. The speaker was an older man, silver-haired but still imposing. He stood alone at one of the pool tables, cue in hand.

"Does your momma know you're here?" the man asked condescendingly.

Danny just shrugged, not wanting to get into it.

"You should go on home," the man said, not terribly unkindly. "This isn't a place for kids. The arcade's next door."

"I know," Danny said simply. Ignoring the man's instructions, he stayed put. He sensed that the man was evaluating him, sizing him up.

After a moment, the man nodded and gestured for Danny to come closer. "Grab a stool. How old are you, kid?"

"My name isn't kid. It's Danny. And I'm nine."

"Well, Danny-who's-nine, what brings you to this den of thieves?"

"Thieves?" Sure enough, when Danny's hand shot to his back pocket, it was empty. The eight dollars he'd saved from his lunch money was gone. However, rather than upset, he found himself delighted. "Teach me how to do that!"

The man looked at him like he was crazy. "Why does a nine-year-old boy want to learn how to pick a pocket?"

"Why not?" Danny challenged. "It's a neat trick."

The man let out a booming laugh. "I like you, kid, but I'm not dumb enough to teach some squirt that I don't even know how to pick pockets and then just let him loose."

Danny sagged on his stool, disheartened. The man must have noticed, because he continued, "But, 'cause I do like you, I'll teach you an even more valuable skill."

"What?"

He smirked. "The great game of pool."

Danny looked at the table critically. "What if I can't reach from the ground?"

"Then maybe you're too young to be here." The words hung in the air, heavy and stifling as the haze of cigar smoke.

Danny felt his back straightening to grant him a few extra inches, his chin rising defiantly as he gave the man a bright smile.

"Don't you worry about that," he said, trying to imitate the man's confident ease. "I'm old for my age."

The silver-haired man laughed, breaking off to cough deeply. "You're a card, kid. The name's Cal. Grab a cue."

Danny did, the small gesture of acceptance filling his heart with so much happiness that he thought his chest might burst.

"Keep your eye on her. Back and forth, round and round. She's running circles, 'round you, Danny!"

A moment more of blurred movement and the cards and Cal's hands, scarred but still graceful, came to a halt. He was an old pro at playing Find the Lady. Danny's eyes narrowed as he inspected the backs of the cards. He chewed on a nail for a moment before coming to a decision.

"You cheated."

The older man raised an eyebrow. "I cheated? Prove it."

Danny glared at him and in one smooth movement, flipped all the cards so that they faced up. To no one's surprise, there was a pronounced absence of queens.

"You cheated," Danny repeated, his bright blue eyes still slits. "I want my ten bucks back."

Cal grinned wickedly. "No can do, kid. You didn't find the queen."

Danny's mouth opened as if he was going to argue, but he stopped himself. For the merest instant, his companion thought he detected a glimmer of mischief. But the boy's face settled so thoroughly into an expression of disgust that he wondered if he'd imagined it. "I don't know why I even talk to you," he said angrily, standing to push past his friend and mentor.

Cal might have been old, but he wasn't stupid and he wasn't slow. His hand snaked out, lightening fast, to catch Danny's fingers as they reached for his wallet. "Nice try, kid," he said, shoving him away affectionately, "But you got to work on subtlety."

Danny grinned, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Thanks a bunch, old man. I'll get right on it. Listen, I gotta go. Ellen's probably expecting me for dinner, like, an hour ago."

Cal rolled his eyes and twirled his pool cue expertly. "Get out of here, kid. And hands off the wallet. You want to pull that, pull it on some sap. Not me."

"Sure thing," Danny said innocently. "Saps only. I promise." The boy grabbed his long-since discarded cue, dropping it onto the rack. He darted through the sparse crowd, receiving a quick word or a slap on the back from most of the regulars before scampering out into the early St. Louis evening.

Cal shook his head slowly and ran one hand through his silver hair. Even after a few months, it still tickled him that a kid like Danny would be interested in learning from a tired old grifter and his friends.

He really did have skill, though. For a little kid, his sleight of hand was almost true magic. His pool game was still a little rough, but he was improving rapidly. Perhaps his most impressive skill, though, was his conning. Danny knew just how to play people. He was especially good at using his looks and age to allay suspicion. Most of the time he emanated a vibe of good-natured mischief, although Cal knew that when he looked his most innocent, he was the most dangerous of all…

Cal cursed and slapped his pocket, but he already knew that his wallet was gone. The cheeky little brat must have grabbed it when Cal had been preoccupied with only one of his hands.

To the older man's surprise, while the wallet definitely wasn't there, something else was. He fumbled with it for a moment before pulling out a smooth paper rectangle.

He held it up to light for a moment. Grudgingly, a smile tugged at one side of his mouth. It was a playing card. A queen.

The missing Lady.

Danny ran down the sun-kissed sidewalks, ducking around pedestrians, spinning past bike messengers, his prize clutched in his hand. He had every intention of returning it to Cal the next day. (Minus his winnings. He had found the Lady, after all.)

Still, it was a heady feeling to know that he'd done it, he'd tricked the teacher, he'd beaten the best.

The rush faded slightly as his course brought him nearer and nearer to the apartment. His watch said that it was already seven.

Considering that Ellen had told him quite clearly that he was to be home for dinner at half-past five, he was so dead.

His pattering feet brought him to a stop outside a low, unassuming brick building. Danny stowed the wallet carefully in his backpack and moved forward, passing the dull metal numbers beside the door, the list of tenants with the names peeling off. The elevator was still broken, so he clattered up three flights of stairs and burst through into a dimly lit hallway.

Normally, it would have been completely deserted. Ideally, it would have been completely deserted. However, due to some odd reason, such as a young boy showing up over an hour later than he had promised, it was not.

A woman stood outside apartment 306, her arms crossed in front of her chest. Danny froze as she glared at him.

"Get inside," she said.

Danny obeyed immediately. He knew better than to test her patience when she was that angry. He slipped into the apartment, dumping his backpack as she followed and shut the door.

"I'm really sorry," he began, hoping that he could do a quick damage control and escape to his room.

Ellen raised one hand, stopping him. Although she was a short woman, she still struck quite an intimidating figure, her hair pulled back into its customary tight French braid, her cheeks red with anger.

Danny carefully placed himself in front of his backpack, as though shielding its contraband contents.

"Do you have any idea how worried I've been?" Ellen asked dangerously. "You said, you promised that you would be home by 5:30. Do you know what time it is, Danny?"

Danny pretended to check his watch and be surprised by what he saw there. "Ellen, I'm sorry, I didn't know it was so late…"

Ellen's dark eyes flashed. "Don't give me that sh- that stuff, Danny. I know that you knew exactly what time it was. Don't even think about lying to me. Where were you?"

Squirming under her fierce glare, Danny admitted, "I was hanging out with a friend." It might not be the whole truth, but it was the truth.

Ellen, having once been a police officer and still possessing the same keen instinct that made her such a good one, picked up on the difference. "A friend? Really. Then what exactly are you hiding in your bag?"

The nine-year-old wanted to groan. Of course Ellen's sharp eyes had picked up on his too-casual positioning. "What do you mean?" he asked innocently. "What's wrong with my bag?"

The older woman didn't even bother arguing, just held out one hand. Danny reluctantly handed her the backpack. She carefully opened it, digging through the collection of books, papers, and other assorted school supplies.

Apparently no one was listening to Danny's frantic prayers, because she quickly discovered the leather wallet.

"Danny, what's this?" she asked, her voice sharp enough to cut teak. "Where did you get this?"

He wanted so desperately to lie, but he knew better. "I took it," he whispered.

"You mean you stole it?" Ellen said pointedly.

"No!" Danny said quickly, his voice high and panicked. "It was just a joke! I was going to return it tomorrow, I swear!"

Ellen opened the billfold and examined the cards inside. "Do you know this man?" she asked, examining a scratched driver's license.

Danny nodded miserably, but she hardly seemed to notice, concentrating on plastic card in her hand.

"Fake," she murmured after a moment.

In his surprise, Danny forgot his fear and apprehension. "What do you mean? How can you tell?"

Ellen dug in her pocket for a minute, extracting her own wallet. "Look at this. This is my license. Can you see the little seal there? Now look at his."

Danny studied the side-by-side cards for a moment. "The colors are off."

"Exactly," Ellen said, having apparently forgotten the argument just like the boy next to her. "Whoever made it was pretty good, but they got the base mixed wrong. If the ratio is off, it won't look quite right."

"That's not his name either," Danny said, pointing.

Unfortunately for him, the slight reminder seemed to jog Ellen's memory and she scowled. "And how exactly do you know his name?"

Danny flushed. "He told me that his name was Cal. He's always over at that one pool hall."

"Show me," Ellen commanded, gripping his arm.

Cal leaned against the bar, sipping scotch and shuffling an old deck of cards. The bartender, Max, had graciously agreed to open him a tab even without his card because he was, after all, there every single day.

Unusually for a Friday night, it wasn't particularly crowded. The pool hall was large enough and seedy enough that besides the regulars like Cal, there was usually a steady stream of strangers. Or, from another point of view, a steady stream of marks.

But for tonight, only two of the tables were in use and Cal sat alone at the bar nursing his drink while Max was cleaning behind the bar and wiping glasses.

The old grifter glanced up as the door opened. To his surprise, a middle-aged woman, short but fit looking, stepped inside with a very abashed looking Danny.

The woman examined something in her hand and glanced once around the nearly-deserted room before zeroing in on Cal. She half-turned, making sure that Danny was following before making her way briskly over to the bar. "Excuse me," she said in a very no-nonsense tone of voice.

Cal carefully set his drink down, turning to face her with his most charming smile. "Can I help you, Ma'am?"

"Yes," the woman replied, her manner not changing a whit. "Danny?" she said, turning to face the boy.

Cal could practically see the kid's awkwardness hovering over his head. He shook his head once, dark curls bouncing, and held out his hand. In it was a wallet that Cal recognized as his own. "I, um, took this from you. And- and I'm really, really sorry about it."

His voice was repentant enough and earnest enough that Cal didn't believe a single word. The kid was just too damn good of a con to be that sincere.

The woman, who Cal guessed was probably his mom, seemed to be having the same thoughts. "And you won't do it again, will you, Danny?"

The frown was real this time. "No. I won't."

Cal smiled slightly and took his wallet. "Don't worry about it, kid."

Danny's mom pursed her lips slightly but nodded. "Danny, go wait by the door. And if you move an inch, you're grounded for a month."

The kid nodded seriously and obeyed, pausing once he was out of the woman's field of vision to throw Cal a cheeky wink.

Cal acknowledged it with a barely perceptible nod and waved Max over.

"A drink for the lady, please, Max," he said gallantly.

"No," the woman said firmly. "I'm good."

Cal caught Max's eye and shook his head slightly before turning back to Danny's mom. "Your son is quite the troublemaker, isn't he?" he commented lightly.

To his surprise, the woman flushed. "He isn't my son. He… You could say I'm a friend of the family."

Cal accepted that easily enough. "Well, ma'am, he's lucky to have someone like you looking out for him. He's a good kid, if a bit of a rascal. I'm not pressing charges, if that's what you're worried about."

She scoffed. "I never thought you would. Somehow I doubt that the kind of man with a fake ID would go to the police for anything."

Cal's heart sank. "I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about, Miss…?"

"Call me Ellen. And don't give me that bullshit. I was a cop for eight years. I know how to recognize a fake ID."

"I suppose you would," Cal said calmly. "But you haven't gone to the police. So what do you want?"

"I want you to stay away from him," Ellen said bluntly, her eyes sharp as daggers. "He's an impressionable boy, and the last thing he needs is someone teaching him how to pick pockets."

"For the record," Cal retorted, "He just showed up one day. And I did not teach him to pick pockets. He just seems to pick things up."

Ellen went red with anger but rather than starting to yell, she just sank onto one of the bar stools. "He really does, doesn't he?" she said tiredly. "God knows, I do my best, but he's so headstrong. His mother is no help either. I love him like he was my own, but I just don't know what to do with him some days."

"Where's his dad?" Cal asked curiously. Danny had never volunteered any personal details, preferring to hear stories about Cal's old cons (though he edited them somewhat).

Ellen just shrugged. "As good as dead."

Cal understood. He'd seen a lot of those situations over the years. "If it helps any, I'll tell Danny to stop coming around. He'd probably listen, but he wouldn't be happy about it."

Ellen glanced over her shoulder, checking on the slight form slouched miserably by the door, far out of earshot. "Honestly," she admitted, "As much as I don't like it, it's probably best if you don't. At least when he's here, I know that he's not wandering into somewhere dangerous. I pride myself on being a pretty good judge of character, and I don't think you'll let anything happen to him."

"None of us would," Cal said gently. "Danny makes friends easily. No one would ever want to see him get hurt."

Ellen looked him in the eyes. "That's good. Because I will be holding you personally responsible for anything that happens to him when he's here. But if he gets hurt or gets in trouble, then I will personally hunt you down and shove one of those pool cues up your ass. Got it?"

Cal had an uncanny survival instinct. He nodded once and kept his mouth shut. He had absolutely no doubt that Ellen was completely sincere about her threat.

Ellen smiled and rose from the stool. "Good. It was nice to meet you, Mr…?"

"Calder Morais. Everyone calls me Cal." As he gave up his name, he wondered vaguely if she would bother to look up his record.

Ellen held out a hand for him to shake, but instead he caught it and kissed it. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Ellen."

She rolled her eyes. "Same to you, Mr. Morais." She gently pulled from his grip and crossed to Danny. The boy followed like a leaf in her wake as she swept out the door.

Slowly, Cal opened his wallet. To his surprise, not a dollar was missing. He thought for a moment, then pulled out ten dollars and set it aside. After all, he had found the Lady.

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