A/N: This Spring Break chapter is set in March, 2005, after "The Mirror" by Silbrith in this same AU. Neal has completed a dangerous op and needs to unwind. He thinks he just wants peace and quiet, but he'd be bored without a little mystery, right?

I'll try to make each vignette friendly for new readers to the AU. In the end notes for each chapter, I'll provide more background about the characters and references to other stories in the AU in case you want to visit (or revisit) those older scenes.

FBI Manhattan White Collar Division. Thursday afternoon. March 3, 2005.

Agent Peter Burke stayed busy with meetings throughout the day so that he wouldn't hover but he kept checking the time. At two o'clock he walked over to Neal Caffrey's desk. "You okay?"

Neal saved a document and stopped staring at his computer screen. "I've always said mortgage fraud cases were the most boring thing at the Bureau, but I may have underestimated medical reimbursement forms."

"All you have to do is stop taking crazy risks. No trips to the hospital, no more paperwork." Peter said it calmly, because he knew Neal had been on edge leading up to Tuesday's op. Two days later they were both finally starting to relax. Rather than rehashing their arguments about those crazy risks he'd mentioned, Peter simply said, "You're working half-days the rest of this week, remember? Ten to two. Time for you to head out. Those forms aren't going anywhere."

"Unfortunately," Neal agreed. He powered down the computer and grabbed his jacket.

"You're going to take it easy this afternoon, right?" Peter prompted.

"Sure. I'll spend some time at the loft before heading to tonight's class." Neal was in his second semester of graduate school, studying art history and visual arts.

After a year of working together, Peter could usually tell when Neal was trying to con him. The vague answer, the smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, those were all clues that Neal wasn't as calm as he pretended to be. The stress of being deep in a con in order to convince a ruthless criminal that they were alike did a number on his psyche. Thus the insistence that Neal ease back into the office routine. Hopefully being around his friends at Columbia would help thaw out the emotions Neal had frozen to get through the op.

Aloha Emporium. Thursday afternoon. March 3, 2005.

After changing out of his suit into jeans and a Columbia sweatshirt, Neal was restless. Instead of pacing in his loft at June Ellington's mansion, he went to the Aloha Emporium. Settling in at an empty table in the cafe section of the Hawaii-themed shop, he ordered a cup of Kona coffee, and started to review the latest assignment for his Computational Art class.

His mind, however, kept returning to a comment June had made on his way out. She'd mentioned that his birthday was coming up and asked if he had plans.

Neal leaned back and ran a hand through his hair. He really wanted to skip the whole birthday thing this year. Given a choice, he'd like to relax and not have a bunch of family and friends staring at him, willing him to be merry. Next year, sure, he'd do the party thing again if that's what they wanted, but right now he needed a break.

How could he convince Henry of that without setting off alarms about his state of mind?

It wouldn't be easy. The tradition of Henry planning surprise birthday celebrations had started eight years ago when Neal turned eighteen, shortly after running away from home. His mother had broken WITSEC protocol to contact her family and asked for help tracking down the runaway. The end result had been twenty-year old cousin Henry finding Neal in Chicago, but Henry also had demons he was running from. Instead of returning to their homes, they'd spent the next few years on the road, living hand-to-mouth and eking out a living as con artists, pick pockets, gamblers, musicians… The list went on and on.

That first birthday they'd spent at an amusement park, and the celebrations had grown increasingly elaborate from there. But maybe this year Neal could get a head start. If he made his own plans now, he'd have the upper hand for once.

Right. What did normal people do for their birthdays?

Neal looked around and saw Angela. She was about as normal as his friends got, and she shared his frustration with Henry's bossiness. She'd be the perfect accomplice for this.

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Angela Caffrey saw her cousin Neal enter the Emporium, but she remained behind the counter balancing the shop's books. He'd helped her get the part-time job here after she started graduate school at Columbia this semester. It had been a little over a year since they'd first met as adults, right after he started working for the FBI.

When Neal waved a hand in front of her face she removed her headphones and turned off her MP3 player, but not fast enough to keep him from recognizing the song. He raised an eyebrow. "You okay?"

"Just some failed plans for spring break bringing me down." She glanced at her MP3 player for a moment before continuing. "Over the summer when Henry had us posing as rock stars - that was the only time I've ever been to Las Vegas. I thought it'd be fun to go back, spend some time in the resorts, try out the gourmet restaurants and even try my hand at gambling. The problem is, when I mentioned it to Michael, he took it the wrong way." She could feel her cheeks warming at the mention of Neal's fellow art student and her new boyfriend. "When I asked if he'd like to go to Vegas with me over spring break, he thought I was proposing we hit one of the quickie wedding chapels. He kind of freaked out."

"That's why you were listening to 'Cry' by Faith Hill?"

"I go for country music when I'm sad."

"Spring break's the week of March 14, right?"

"Yeah. It was always something I looked forward at the University of Washington." She smiled at the happy memories. "My freshman year some friends and I went to the Skagit Valley Tulip Festival. The fields of flowers were glorious, and we spent a day there and then went up to Victoria, BC for a few days. The next year there'd been a record snowfall and the ski resorts in the Cascades were still open, so we headed into the mountains. The year after that we went to the Washington coast, hitting some of the cute little towns like Ocean Shores and Pacific Beach. Last year we went hiking in the Olympic Mountains; it has a rain forest, you know. The scenery was amazing."

"I didn't realize you were so outdoorsy."

Angela shrugged. "I prefer living in a city, but for vacations I like to get back to nature sometimes."

"No Girls Gone Wild moments, then?"

It took an effort not to snort. "Can you imagine what our grandfather would say? What about you? Any memorable spring breaks?"

"Not really. There wasn't money for stuff like that when I was in high school, and I skipped the undergrad experience."

It wasn't a surprise when she thought about it, but still Angela couldn't help exclaiming, "You've never had a spring break! Oh, we have to fix that. What are you going to do this year?"

"Well, nothing. I mean, it's a little late to ask for a week off of work. I just thought I'd take a long weekend. My birthday's the Monday after spring break."

"You can combine them, I suppose." She paused. "Unless Henry already made plans?"

A stubborn look flashed across Neal's face. "He hasn't mentioned anything. Besides, like you said, it's my first real spring break. Anyone would understand I want to make my own plans for that."

She grinned at the thought of their older cousin's reaction. "Yeah, maybe that'll work, if you make those plans fast."

"You'll help, right?" Neal waited for her to nod. "Your previous vacations sounded good, but I'd rather stay local. What do people do for spring break around here?"

"Oh, there are lots of options. Atlantic City, for instance. Or if you want to follow my old routine of heading into the great outdoors, go up to the Catskills maybe. The resort you went to for that case in January, that sounded fun."

Neal looked thoughtful. "I could make something like that work. What if I arranged a trip to the Catskills for you, me and Henry?"

"I get to come along?" Angela hopped down from the stool behind the counter and hugged him. "I'd love it!"

"One thing, though. Once I tell Henry about it, he may try to take over. He's used to dictating what we do - thinks it's his right because he's the oldest. Just remember this is my plan, and you're on my side. Got it?"

She gave him a sharp salute she'd learned as an Air Force brat. "Aye, sir! You're in charge of Operation Spring Break."

Burke residence, Brooklyn, NY. Thursday evening. March 3, 2005.

"Are you okay, hon?" Elizabeth Burke asked her husband midway through the meal.

"Huh? Oh, yeah. Sorry." Peter looked at his wife apologetically. As patient as she was about the demands of his job, he should pay attention when she described her day.

"Still worried about Neal?"

He couldn't deny it. El knew he'd woken from nightmares the last two nights. His mind still wouldn't let go of all the things that could have gone wrong during the op earlier this week. "Hughes reminded me it's been more than a year since Neal's firearm certification. That means it's expired, and I need to get him recertified by the end of the month or there will be a reprimand because he took a gun into the Met Tuesday for that showdown with Keller."

El frowned. She'd been present last spring as Neal flashed back to a childhood incident when he'd witnessed a shooting. "Neal hates guns. I can't imagine he'll want to go to a firing range for certification."

Peter nodded. "It also goes counter to my goal of not stressing him out."

"I wonder…" El trailed off, seeming lost in thought for a moment. "Could you schedule it for when Henry's back in town? They're so competitive, maybe if they were both at the firing range it would seem more like a game."

"Good idea. He mentioned he'll be back for Neal's birthday, but we didn't have time to discuss how long he'll stay or what he has in mind. Did he talk to you about it when he was here?" Henry had stayed at their home when he came to New York recently in order to surprise Neal.

"No, but both of you were so upset about Neal's plan to fake his death. Everything else took a back seat to that."

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Elizabeth kept a straight face until Peter took Satchmo out for a walk. Then she indulged in a pleased smile. She'd told Peter the truth. It wasn't until after Henry left New York that he called her to discuss Neal's birthday.

The party last year for Neal's twenty-fifth birthday had involved bringing the young man back into the arms of family members who hadn't been in his life since he'd gone into WITSEC as a young child. Henry's goal had been for Neal to become comfortable around his family, and it had worked. By the end of the year he'd been completely at ease spending the holidays in Hawaii with the Caffreys, Winslows and Burkes when Henry's mother Noelle Caffrey Winslow married Peter's older brother, Joe Burke.

This year, Henry had something different in mind. He wanted it to be a surprise for both Peter and Neal, but had asked for El's help in bringing everything together. She picked up her phone to leave a message for him. The firearm certification was a twist they hadn't accounted for.

Henry Winslow's apartment, Baltimore, MD. Monday evening. March 7, 2005.

Henry opened a beer and plopped down on his sofa. It had been a long day at Winston-Winslow, the elite private investigation and security company his great-grandfather had started forty-some years ago. At first Henry had resisted joining the family business, but he had a gift for investigating that couldn't be denied. Today had been the kind of day he hated, spent mostly in meetings.

After ordering a pizza, Henry turned his attention to his side project: Neal's birthday. June had confirmed by email that she'd reminded Neal of the upcoming birthday, and Elizabeth had been rallying the forces on her side while still keeping her husband in the dark. Angela was the biggest wildcard, and he called her to check in.

"I'm not sure about this," Angela said when he mentioned Project Happy Birthday. "Neal's getting really excited about his plans."

"That's good," Henry said. "We want him to be happy."

"But he wants to choose what we do."

"Exactly. That's my gift to him. He gets to choose."

Angela huffed. "But we're following your script. All that stuff you wanted me to tell him, it led him to pick what you wanted."

"No, it led him to pick what I knew he wanted. Entirely different. We're simply helping him discover what he wants."

"I don't want to lie to him."

"You won't have to. Other than that subterfuge with Michael, pretending things are strained between the two of you, you're not misleading anyone. Everything you told him about your past spring breaks was true. There's nothing wrong about you bringing up the subject to get his reaction."

"What if instead of picking the Catskills, he'd offered to go along to Vegas with me?"

"Then we'd have gone to Vegas. That was always a contingency in my plan. Like I said, we're doing what Neal wants. I'm simply facilitating behind the scenes."

"I wish I could be sure of that. It still feels like you're using that master's degree in psychology to manipulate us all."

"You're being paranoid," Henry insisted. There was a knock on his door. "That's my pizza. I'll catch up with you again later."

He was putting the leftovers in the fridge when Peter Burke called. "Listen, Henry, the CEO of Win-Win contacted us today. He wants to come up to New York to strategize on the Vincent Adler case, and mentioned he'd like to do some team building with us."

"Yeah, Allen mentioned that in a meeting today."

"He says he wants to schedule it for March 21. Neal's birthday. You really want Neal to spend his birthday in meetings?"

"No, I wanted to take him to Vegas for a long weekend, but he decided to make other plans. He told me I can join the road trip up to the Catskills, and that you're assisting in his attempt to overthrow all my ideas."

"I get that you're used to planning surprises for his birthday, but he's an adult now. You gotta take his wishes into account, you know."

Henry sighed. "Yeah. I'm not gonna get in the way of this trip up to the Burke family cabin. He's convinced me that this is what he and Angela both want."

"You can drop the put-upon act. This 'team building' Allen mentioned has your fingerprints all over it. You wanted to control at least one aspect of what we do on Neal's birthday. What exactly do you have in mind?"

"When I talked to Neal yesterday, he was kind of stressed about the firearm certification. We know he'll ace the test, but holding a gun will trigger memories of the shooting he witnessed as a kid. I'd like to be there for the certification. If he's competing with me to see who's the best marksman, he'll be less in his head and more in the moment, and then I can stay the night in his loft to make sure he's okay afterward."

"The team building event is a marksmanship contest?" Peter asked.

Henry smiled. He'd done some research into the location the Manhattan FBI team used for their certification. As innocently as he could manage, he said, "I'd like to do something else afterward that would be fun for Neal with some of his friends from work. Are there any options near the firing range? That way it would seem more random and not like something we planned specifically for his birthday."

"As a matter of fact, last year Neal noticed something connected to the range that he wanted to try, but we didn't have time. It could be ideal for a team building event." Peter got more and more excited as he described exactly what Henry already had in mind.

Peter Burke's car, upstate New York. Thursday morning. March 17, 2005.

Peter and Elizabeth Burke sat in the front seat of his car, with Angela sandwiched between Henry and Neal in the back seat. Having picked Henry up at the airport, the plan was to drop the cousins at the Burke family cabin, and then Peter and El would continue to Albany to spend a couple of days with Peter's parents. They'd return Sunday evening for the trip back to New York City.

Neal was pleasantly surprised at Henry's peaceful acquiescence to the spring break plans. Sure, he'd complained a bit when Neal first made it clear that he was in charge this year, but ever since then Henry had gone along.

It had been easy.

Too easy?

Neal pondered that while the others described the cabin to Angela. They were telling her how Peter's father and uncles had purchased the cabin decades ago, for their families to share. These days Peter's mother Betty kept the schedule of who was using the cabin when.

More than three weeks ago, Neal had called El to learn how to reserve the cabin. If it had been booked, he'd have looked into one of the Catskill resorts instead, but that would have put a strain on his budget. El had put him in touch with Betty.

During a pause in the conversation in the car, Neal said, "When I called Betty, she mentioned how lucky it was that no one was using the cabin this week. She said it tends to be in high demand over spring break, but this year everyone had made plans elsewhere."

"You're right," said Peter. "Usually one of my cousins books the cabin for spring break. I guess their kids are getting to the age where they want to do something on their own, instead of a family vacation."

Elizabeth immediately jumped in with a reminder to her husband about needing to stop at the grocery store on the way so there would be fresh food. She looked a little flustered.

Interesting.

Normally he left conspiracy theories to Mozzie, but this time Neal believed something was up. Someone was manipulating things behind the scenes. And Henry was the master manipulator.

When they stopped at the grocery store, El and Angela were eager to go inside and pick out food for the cabin, and Henry insisted he needed to have a say.

Neal pulled Peter aside before they followed the others into the store. "When you get to your parents' house, would you ask Betty how long ago Henry asked her to reserve the cabin?"

Peter frowned. "I thought you called Mom to make the reservation."

"I did, but I'm starting to think that we've been bamboozled. If I'm right, Henry's been working with Betty and Elizabeth to plan a trip up here before the idea ever occurred to me."

"You think he manipulated you into coming here?"

"He'd probably say he anticipated me. I'll work on getting the truth out of him over the next few days. It's possible Angela was an accomplice, and she might give him away. If you look into it while you're in Albany, we can compare notes."

Peter agreed, and then they joined the group inside. Henry was advocating stocking up on hot dogs and marshmallows and cooking all meals over a campfire, but Neal sided with Angela on more healthy options. As long as they promised Henry didn't have to cook, he gave in to most of their preferences with minimal grumbling.

The remaining area of dispute was over the cabbage. "It's St. Patrick's Day," Angela insisted, gesturing toward her green blouse. "We're Irish. It's traditional. It's the least you can do. I mean, look at you. Blue jeans and red sweatshirt. You're not even making an effort. Shameful," she added in an imitation of their grandfather's occasional brogue.

"We're not making the cabin smell like boiled cabbage," Henry said. "If you want green, pick up some of that green beer."

A fan of neither boiled cabbage nor green beer, Neal intervened. "How about a Guinness onion soup to go with our steaks?"

When the cousins agreed to Neal's compromise, they were finally ready to check out. Less than thirty minutes after they left the grocery store, they arrived at the cabin. Neal wasn't the only one surprised to see another vehicle there. "Isn't that Dad's truck?" Peter asked as he parked.

Luke and Betty Burke stepped outside the cabin to hug everyone. "Welcome to the Burke family cabin," Betty said. "We wanted to make sure everything was in order."

"Yeah, and we brought someone who wants to spend the weekend with you," Luke added. "Barclay!" he called. A black Lab ran over with a rope in his mouth. "He's a sucker for anyone who'll play tug-of-war with him."

Neal had met Luke and Betty's Lab over Thanksgiving. He crouched down to greet the dog and then took hold of one end of the rope. Barclay started pulling and Neal's shoes slid across the new grass. "Whoa. Let me get some leverage here." He stood up and braced his feet before tugging again.

Luke patted Neal's back. "You've made a friend for life."

It seemed to Neal it was only a minute later that he gave up and let go of the rope, but when he looked around all of the groceries and luggage had been carried inside. "C'mon, Barclay. We'd better see what they're up to." The interior of the cabin was rustic with modern touches. Polished wood floors, log walls, big windows with spectacular mountain views. Two plaid sofas flanked a massive fireplace, and shelves around the fireplace held games, toys and books. There was also a TV over the mantle, and Henry was reviewing the cabin's collection of DVDs.

"A lot of those movies look new," Peter told Neal in a low voice. "Could be one of my cousins brought them up on a recent visit, but it's possible Henry requested things he wants to watch."

"Or wants me to watch," Neal agreed. "What are they? Spy thrillers?"

"Kids movies. Disney stuff mostly, and some old classic cartoons."

An intriguing clue, but it was still too soon to guess what what Henry was up to. "Where's everyone else?"

"They led Angela upstairs." There were three small bedrooms on a second floor. "Dad's showing off all the features he's added over the years, and El's telling the story of the Halloween prank we played on my brother the last time we brought you up here."

"The reverse Goldilocks con," Neal said with a grin. "That was a good one."

Burke family cabin, upstate New York. Thursday afternoon. March 17, 2005.

Betty fixed everyone lunch, but after they'd eaten she and her husband Luke left, with Peter and El following. Neal and Henry showed Angela the highlights outside the cabin, including a picnic table and the hill where they'd gone sledding the first time they'd been here.

From the picnic table they could see a lake, and Angela wanted to walk down the trail that led to the water.

"Good idea. This way," Henry turned and walked back toward the cabin.

"But…" Angela traded looks with Neal. "Why's he going in the opposite direction?"

"C'mon!" Henry yelled at them.

"Let's see," Neal suggested, and they hurried after the oldest cousin to find him tugging at the door of an old shed. Neal remembered that it held sleds and skis and ice skates. None of those were of any use with the early spring that had banished snow weeks ago.

"A little help here?" Henry said, as the warped door seemed stuck in place.

The three of them pulled at the door and when it was open a few feet Henry went inside. "Yeah, I thought I'd seen this last time." He was reaching up toward the ceiling, and Neal realized a rowboat and oars were suspended above them.

Neal reached up to help and soon they had the boat on the ground.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Angela asked. "It looks kind of old."

"The Burkes wouldn't keep it around if it weren't seaworthy." Henry picked up one end, instructed Neal to grab the opposite end and told Angela to bring the oars.

"I thought you'd like this," Neal teased as they walked back to the trail. "Michael's a rower. Show an interest and you can patch things up with him."

Angela looked at him wide-eyed. "M-Michael?" she stammered. "But we're… I mean, we already…"

"Already got over that Las Vegas misunderstanding? Good." Neal gave her his most innocent smile, but he was thinking, Gotcha. Yeah, that bit about Michael and Vegas had been an act.

"Keep up!" Henry ordered. "We're wasting daylight." He sped up their pace, making it difficult to talk. They were all panting when they reached the lake.

Neal bided his time. Several minutes into their boat ride he said, "You should have invited Michael along. He could have shown us how to work these oars."

"This is a family vacation," Henry said. "And I know how to row a boat. Winslows are born sailors."

"Okay, but there's no sail on this thing," Angela pointed out. "And it isn't Michael's kind of boat. His scull is more streamlined, like a kayak. Are you sure this isn't leaking?"

"Seems dry to me," Neal assured her.

"Were there life jackets in that shed?" she asked.

"Don't you know how to swim?" Neal asked, concerned that they'd brought her into something she wasn't comfortable with.

"Of course she can," Henry said. "She was right there with us, running around in the ocean in Hawaii."

"That was warm," Angela noted, "and we don't know how deep this lake is."

Neal glanced back at the shore, where Barclay was patiently waiting. The dog was getting smaller as the boat took them away from shore surprisingly fast. "Maybe that's far enough, Henry. You know how to turn this thing around, don't you?"

"I'm not an idiot. I know how to turn around a rowboat. You just -" he leaned over sharply to the side and rowed with just one oar.

"Henry!" Angela shrieked as the boat tipped, taking on water.

"Henry!" Neal yelled a moment later as the boat turned over, and it dumped them in the lake with a resounding splash.

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They righted the boat and helped Angela back aboard, and then Henry and Neal tugged it back to shore. The snow might be gone at their elevation, but the water was still cold. They dashed back to the cabin for warm showers and warm clothes. Angela sat on a sofa in a big flannel shirt she'd found in one of the closets, holding a cup of hot chocolate that Neal had made for them while Henry started a fire. Angela hadn't packed a hair dryer, assuming the cabin would have one. She was towel drying her long, dark hair, and it became increasingly frizzy. She glared at her cousins and told them in no uncertain terms that laughter would not be tolerated.

Soon they were all huddled around the fireplace. Henry sat on the floor, and Barclay rolled over beside him, clearly expecting a belly rub which Henry administered with gusto.

"You have any pets growing up?" Neal asked Angela.

"Not really. Moving from one Air Force base to the next made it difficult to have pets. Goldfish were about it. How about you?"

"Nah." Neal's mother had been increasingly challenged to take care of him. As much as he'd loved dogs, a pet had been out of the question.

"Henry did," Angela said, to Neal's surprise. "A golden retriever named Lulu."

"Mom named her," Henry added.

"Why didn't you tell me you'd had a dog?" Neal wondered aloud.

"I could tell you'd wanted one. Didn't want to make you feel bad by going on about the fact that I had it better than you did."

When they were warmer, they fixed their St. Patrick's dinner of steaks, salad and onion soup. Henry drank one of the Guinness beers, and Neal poured wine for Angela and himself. "This reminds me of a story," Neal said. He adopted an Irish accent and told - with a few slight embellishments - a story he'd heard about the time a family friend had volunteered to babysit all three of them on St. Patrick's Day.

Henry had been five years old at the time of the story. The more he heard, the more he remembered, and he contributed to the embellishments. Angela had been less than a year old, and had never heard the story of how her screams had terrified their babysitter. "You stole a car when you were two?" she asked incredulously.

"Days away from my third birthday," Neal pointed out, "and it was a mistake. I didn't mean to put the car in gear."

They were doing the dishes when the cabin's landline rang. There were no cell towers out here. Their phones were turned off to conserve the batteries, and they'd given the cabin's phone number to anyone who might need to reach them.

Neal answered and grinned when he recognized the voice of the caller. "Angela, it's for you."

She grabbed the phone, "Hello?" When the caller responded she turned her back on the others for a bit of privacy. Her voice lowered, she said, "Hi, Michael," and sounded a little breathless.

"Her boyfriend. And you didn't take advantage of the chance to hassle him?" Henry shook his head at Neal. "Watch and learn. Hey, Michael!" he yelled.

Angela covered the phone. "Hush!"

"Ohhh, Michael," Henry called out, batting his eyelashes, and holding his hand over his heart.

"Cut it out," Angela insisted. "Sorry, not you, Michael. My cousin's being juvenile."

Henry made kissing noises.

"Shut up," Angela said. "Go away."

Neal laughed at them, but twenty minutes later regretted not supporting Angela when the phone rang again and it was his girlfriend, Fiona. Both Henry and Angela were catcalling and generally making it impossible to say or hear more than a few words. When he finally ended the call he rolled his eyes at them. "Really?"

He'd learned his lesson. He set his alarm clock for a ridiculously early hour in the morning. As soon as it sounded he silenced the clock, and then snuck downstairs to make a call. Moving with the stealth of a cat burglar was a skill he'd mastered years ago, and he didn't let any of the creaking stairs give him away.

Peter's parents' home, Albany, New York. Thursday evening. March 17, 2005.

Peter half-listened as El described the argument between Henry and Angela in the grocery store, and how Neal had mended things.

"Classic middle child, as my father would say," El said about Neal.

Betty nodded, comparing the scene to ones she'd experienced in her many years as a school teacher. She'd taught fifth grade and was comparing three young adults to ten-year-olds. "Did you want to reserve the cabin?" she suddenly asked.

Peter had been paging through the calendar that was attached to the refrigerator with magnets. This was where Betty logged the requests for the cabin. "Maybe. I should see when I can get some time off."

El raised a brow at that. Peter generally had to be dragged kicking and screaming into taking time off, and he knew she'd quiz him about that later.

For now he returned to the kitchen table and took the beer his father offered him. "What did you think of Henry, Mom?"

"Smart. Maybe too smart for his own good sometimes. He likes to complicate matters, to keep things interesting. Loyal. He'd do anything for his family and friends."

"A lot like Neal," Peter added. He let El pick up that thread as she compared the two young men. After a while he added, "It's fascinating watching them together. Sometimes it's like they can read each other's minds. Did you notice that, Mom? When we were in Hawaii?"

She shook her head. "I can't say I did, but often we were all in such a large group you couldn't observe much of the individuals."

True, but thinking back, Peter remembered times that Henry had pulled Betty into side conversations. He bided his time. The puzzle pieces were slowly coming together, but it was too soon to push for answers yet.

It was early the next morning, when he'd just padded down to the kitchen to make coffee, that his cell phone buzzed. "Neal? How are things in the cabin?"

Neal told him about the adventure on the lake, about dinner and the phone calls.

Peter laughed at the descriptions of the heckling. "That brings back memories. I used to do that as a kid when Joe was dating."

"Whatever Henry's doing, I'm increasingly certain that Angela was in on it. I don't think she's lied to me, other than the part about being on the outs with Michael. I haven't called her on it yet, not directly. When Henry gave us a moment alone I mentioned I had a question for her about this vacation. I timed it so I couldn't actually ask anything. My theory is that she's feeling guilty and will give it all away in a day or so. She's just too basically honest to pull off something like this for long."

"She pulled her weight on the Masterson sting," Peter pointed out.

"Yeah, but she didn't like Masterson, and anyway, she wasn't exactly lying. She was being herself, or a rock star version of herself, under a pseudonym. Listen, I don't have a lot of time before they wake up. Did you learn anything on your end?"

"I looked at the calendar where Mom logs the cabin reservations. She writes them down with whatever's at hand. Any given pen or pencil usually wanders away from the kitchen after a couple of weeks and she'll find another one. I can say with relative certainty that she wrote down your reservation around the start of the year, the same time my cousin always calls to reserve it for Thanksgiving. My working theory is that Henry made the request when were in Hawaii, and she wrote it down as soon as she got home."

"In January. If he was planning that far ahead, imagine how much time he's had to perfect this scheme."

"And complicate it," Peter added, thinking back to what his mother had said the night before. "Remember that Henry likes to complicate things. Simplicity might be your best weapon."

"Like sword through a knot. If I can't unravel things, I may turn to my fencing skills. Thanks, Peter."

Only ten minutes later, his phone vibrated with another call from the cabin. "Forget something?" he asked.

"Yeah. Peter, what we were talking about earlier… I forgot to mention…"

"What?"

"Don't tell anyone else yet, okay?"

"Sure. Just us for now, until we get this figured out," Peter promised, but his gut was warning him something was off. "Before you go, I should have warned you about something. I noticed Barclay wasn't wearing his flea collar. There tend to be a lot of fleas around the cabin this time of year. You said Henry'd spent a lot of time with him yesterday?"

"Umm. Yeah."

"You may want him to give Barclay a flea bath. There should be some powder in the coat closet. And if a lot of that powder gets on Henry, that would be a good thing, if you know what I mean. If you see either of them scratching, look for that powder."

"Right."

"And don't tell him about it. You know how the power of suggestion can be."

"Yeah, I know."

"All right, then. Don't get too caught up in Henry's schemes. You're there to have fun, remember."

"Yeah, sure. Listen, the others are coming downstairs. I need to go."

"Talk to you later," Peter paused and waited until the line went dead, "Henry."

Had it been Henry both times? He and Neal were so practiced at impersonating each other, it could be nearly impossible to tell them apart on the phone.

Burke family cabin, upstate New York. Friday morning. March 18, 2005.

Henry told himself that Peter had guessed it was him calling, and this torture was all a mind game. So what if Barclay was scratching his ears? Dogs did that all the time.

But he was so itchy. He couldn't stop thinking about it. He stared at the coat closet, trying to remember if he'd seen the flea powder there when he'd hung up his jacket yesterday. Would they think he was nuts if he insisted on giving the dog a bath?

"Henry, you still with us?" Neal asked as he slid an omelet onto a plate.

Henry was clutching his coffee mug with both hands, so he wouldn't start scratching. "Just give me a minute." He strode over to the coat closet. If he could just find that flea powder and make sure it was there, he could quiet his mind. Coats, boots, hats, mufflers. "Where is it?" he muttered. He didn't see any boxes of anything.

"Need help?" Angela was at his elbow, speaking softly. She thought this was a ruse to give her some directions Neal wouldn't overhear.

He probably should have some instructions for her, but he couldn't think of anything except how much he itched and how much Peter Burke annoyed him right now. Had he lied about that flea powder, or had someone moved it? He almost ran his hands through his hair, but stopped. No spreading fleas to his head. He closed his eyes and tried not to groan. Now his scalp itched. He walked back to the table and started eating his omelet.

"This is fantastic," Angela said to Neal. "You're a great cook."

"Glad you appreciate it," he said.

Henry stopped shoveling the eggs into his mouth and took time to taste his food. "It's pretty good."

"What is it with you this morning?" Neal asked.

Henry sighed. "Barclay isn't wearing a flea collar. Maybe we shouldn't let him outside."

"Of course he's wearing a flea collar."

Henry glanced at Barclay. Nope, that was not the standard white flea collar his dog had always worn. "What, is it invisible or something?"

"No, the flea repellent is in the collar you see. Elizabeth told me about it once. The kennel where they board Satchmo sells them - designer flea collars. She gets them for her sister's dog and for Barclay, too."

Henry started to relax. The itching eased a little. "Good. It would be a shame to lock him inside when he likes romping around with us so much. Tell you what. Finish your breakfast, and when I come back we'll follow one of those trails that lead up the mountainside. I've heard there's a great spot for picnics up there. Angela, you'll pack a lunch for us, right?"

"Sure but where are you going?"

The itching had subsided significantly, but he knew what it would take to completely rid himself of the sensation. "Just gonna grab a quick shower."

As he bounded upstairs he could feel their questioning glances. By the time they got back from their hike they could very well be dirty and sweaty and in need of another shower, but he didn't care.

His plan was still on track, he told himself, even if Peter Burke had won this round of mind games.

WCWCWCWCWCWCWC

"Do you have any idea what that was about?" Angela asked Neal.

He shook his head. "None." That had been weird, but at least it gave him time alone with Angela. "Listen, Henry keeps interrupting us before I can ask you something. It's about this vacation. You said you were on my side."

"Yes, I'm so sorry, Neal."

"It's okay. I know what he's like."

"He said we weren't manipulating you. I was supposed to plant some ideas to get you thinking, and then we'd go with whatever you wanted. He said he wasn't doing anything other than smoothing things along." She'd rushed through the confession and paused to take a deep breath. "It all sounded reasonable at the time, but now I think there's more going on."

"If I'm right, Elizabeth is in on it, and maybe Betty, too."

"And June," Angela added.

"She reminded me my birthday was coming up," Neal remembered.

"Until yesterday I thought that was her only involvement, but I made sure to reach him first when we picked him up at baggage claim, in case he had any last minute adjustments to the plan. He was on the phone, and I heard him saying goodbye to June."

"The plan is still in play? What more is there, beyond getting us all where he wants us?"

"He has an agenda he's ticking off in his mind. Activities, foods, I don't know most of it. I'm supposed to follow his lead and help make sure we're all having fun."

"You thought the boat tipping over was fun?"

"God, no." She narrowed her eyes. "Did you think it was fun?"

Even though he hadn't enjoyed it at the time, it was kinda funny looking back on it now. Peter had certainly chuckled over the story earlier this morning.

"You do," she accused.

"Your scream could probably be heard in the next county."

Angela walked over to the sofa and picked up a pillow. "Say that again. I dare you."

The pillow fight that ensued was still going on when Henry returned. He joined in, with Barclay barking joyously.

Peter's parents' home, Albany, New York. Saturday afternoon. March 19, 2005.

With only one phone in the cabin, located in the open concept first floor, it was no surprise that Neal didn't find the privacy to call back until Saturday afternoon. He filled Peter in on what they'd been doing.

Before Peter responded, he had to ask, "Neal, do you remember the name of the bar in St. Louis? The one where we had the meet with that crew of thieves?"

"Yeah, Shirts and Skins. Why?"

"And the leader of that crew was named…?"

"Roland Villiers. Peter, it's not like you to forget…" It didn't take Neal long to catch up. "Worried that I'm Henry?"

"We've gotta come up with a code phrase so I can be sure who I'm talking to. How many times did you call me yesterday?"

"Once. How many times did you think I called?"

"I was pretty sure it was Henry the second time. He probably hit redial to find out who you'd called and then tried to fake it. Did my story about Barclay having fleas get into his head?"

"Oh. That explains what was up with him. Yeah. I gotta hand it to you. That was a simple, but brilliant move."

"Like I told you, simple can be powerful." Peter had gone out to the back porch to take the call. Elizabeth and Betty had gone shopping, and Luke had been watching a basketball game on TV. Now Luke opened the sliding door and sat on a chair next to Peter. The game must be over.

"Anyway, it's clear that Henry conspired to take charge of this vacation, getting me here and arranging activities, but I can't figure out his end goal. Like Angela said, he has an agenda he's ticking off, but I don't know why. And he's taking photos like crazy. Says he's going to add them to the album you all gave me at Christmas."

Peter chuckled. "I'm surprised the camera survived the dunking in the lake."

Neal drew a sharp breath. "He didn't bring it to the lake. It's the only time he hasn't had it with him. Do you think he overturned the boat on purpose?"

"You weren't exaggerating, the rowboat really flipped completely over?"

"Upside down, yeah. Dumped all three of us in the lake."

At the comment about the rowboat flipping over, Luke stopped watching the birds flocking to the feeders and turned his attention to Peter, who nodded at his father and said to Neal, "That's about as stable a rowboat as you can get. I flipped it over once, when my brother was driving me nuts, and I had to put a lot of effort into it. It's hard to believe someone as knowledgeable about boats as Henry would flip it accidentally."

When the call was over, Luke said, "What's going on up at the cabin?"

If this had been a case at the FBI, by now Peter would want to talk it through with someone in the office. It wouldn't hurt to get a second opinion now. He didn't share his theories about what Henry was up to or why. He simply described what the cousins had been doing since arriving at the cabin.

Luke listened quietly for the most part. When Peter mentioned the board games the cousins had played Thursday and Friday night, he commented, "Those were your favorites."

Peter nodded in acknowledgement. He'd enjoyed those games as a kid. That's why they were always stocked in the cabin. They'd replaced the games many times over the years as pieces wore out or got lost. The boxes had looked new again on Thursday. "This morning they watched cartoons." He listed the ones Neal had mentioned.

"Saturday morning cartoons," Luke said. "Those were the ones you always watched. Every Saturday you were down in the basement, watching Speed Racer and those others."

"Yeah, those are good memories."

"I could tell. I looked out the window when I went to the kitchen for coffee, and you were smiling as you listened to Neal telling you about it."

Finally it clicked. Peter thought he knew what Henry was trying to achieve, even if he didn't know why.

"Betty's in on it," Luke commented. "She's had a lot of phone calls with Henry these last couple of months. I figure she's the one who told him what your favorites were."

"Did you take those games and DVDs up to the cabin with you on Thursday?"

"Yep. Betty ordered them online a month ago, at least."

"And Henry asked you to leave Barclay at the cabin?"

Luke nodded. "He wanted a dog there, and you didn't have space in your car to bring Satchmo along."

It didn't take long to confirm his theory once the girls got home. Peter said he needed to run something by them, and they sat in the breakfast room while he laid out what he'd discovered. When he reached the end he said, "Mom, why is Henry taking his cousins through a greatest hits of my childhood?"

Betty smiled. "If you were to ask Henry, he'd say it's complicated."

"Trademark Henry response."

"Yes, well I've been talking to him a lot." Betty laid a hand over his. "You always had Joe. It would be hard for you to imagine what it's like to be an only child."

"All three of them are only children," Peter said. "Well, at least that's how they were raised." Of course it was more complicated than that, but Betty was right. Each of them had been raised alone.

"It wasn't so hard for Henry and Angela. They had each other and bunches of cousins on their non-Caffrey sides of their families, but Neal…" She stopped short of mentioning WITSEC and how that had isolated Neal. "Well, his childhood was far from what it should have been."

She didn't know half of it, and it wasn't Peter's secret to share, so he stayed focused on the present. "I get it. Henry wants all of them, Neal especially, to relive the childhood they should have had. But why use my childhood as his model? Was that your idea?"

"No, Peter. Don't you see? What seems boring and ordinary to us, it looks magical to Neal. Your life is an ideal for him, a picket fence fantasy. If you asked him what he thinks childhood should be like, he'd say yours."

Elizabeth nodded. "And Henry knows you're like a father to Neal, but you lack the usual shared experiences of a father and son. This way, you have more in common."

"Why keep it secret, though?" Luke asked. "Seems to me Peter is the expert on his own childhood. Why not ask him about it when Henry planned all this?"

"I'd disagree with you there," Betty said. "Kids forget a lot, and aren't very objective. I'd say their parents are the experts on their childhood."

"I see your point," said Peter, "but Dad's right, too. Why keep me in the dark? That was intentional, right? He told each of you not to tell me what he had planned."

Both Betty and Elizabeth indicated he was right. El added, "He mentioned that you see each other at work every day and Neal might notice if you were hiding something from him."

"Possible," Peter said.

"You still think there's something more," El said.

"Yeah. It's never that simple. Not with Henry."

Burke family cabin, upstate New York. Saturday evening. March 19, 2005.

In the evening the cousins built a campfire and did some stargazing. "That's Perseus," Neal said. He shrugged at Angela. "Ursa Major, Ursa Minor, Bootes and Perseus. That's the extent of my expertise with constellations. Those are the ones Peter pointed out last time we were here. He's the expert."

Angela pointed out a few more she recognized, and Henry opened a bag of marshmallows to start roasting.

Neal's mind kept going back to the fact that Peter was the expert on stargazing. How many times had Peter come to mind while they were doing stuff on Henry's agenda? When they played Clue, Neal had guessed that had probably been a game Peter loved. And those cartoons. Speed Racer made him think of Peter's propensity for driving too fast.

Was it a coincidence? Naturally the Burke family cabin would be filled with reminders of Peter and all the other Burkes who had spent so much time here over the decades. There weren't a lot of coincidences, though, not when Henry planned things. He'd have considered the implications of being here and doing these things. It was like the goal was for Neal to have more in common with Peter.

"I know why we're here," Neal said.

"Is this a theological insight?" Henry asked.

"No, it's a Henry psychological mind-game insight. You brought us here to relive moments of Peter's childhood."

Henry shrugged. "You like coming here because it makes you feel like a member of the Burke family. I'm just facilitating that. Over Christmas, Betty told me about some of their family trips to the cabin, and that provided me with plenty of activities to choose from."

Angela sat back and stared at Henry. "It's that simple? It's never that simple with you. There has to be more."

"She's right. If that's all you were up to, why not tell us from the beginning? There's no need to keep that a secret."

"No?" Henry prompted. "Tell me, now that you've figured it out, how do you feel?"

Neal and Angela glanced at each other.

"Feeling clever, right? You figured it out on your own, no help from me." Henry blew on a perfectly roasted marshmallow to cool it, then popped it in his mouth.

"No help from you," Neal concurred, "but not alone. Angela helped."

"Nice bit of bonding there, with the two of you trying to figure out what your wiser older cousin was up to."

"I wouldn't say wiser, old man," Angela objected.

Ignoring her, Henry added, "And Peter helped. He's running a parallel investigation in Albany, of course. What could be more fun than that?"

"Solving a mystery with Peter," Neal said. "That's what you wanted me to do."

"That's your birthday gift to Neal, isn't it?" Angela asked. "A mystery. Clues. Suspects who'd been seen conferring with you. That's kind of brilliant."

Henry smiled proudly.

"I mean, it's still annoying as hell," Angela continued. "The way you manipulated us all. Making us keep secrets from Neal."

"But in the end you had fun," Henry said. "The hikes, the picnics, the games and cartoons. You loved every minute of it."

"I'd have loved it even more if I didn't have the guilt of hiding things from Neal."

"And the rowboat," Neal added. "Don't forget that. Peter figured out you tipped it on purpose, because it had taken a lot of effort to tip it when he wanted to dunk his brother."

"You did that on purpose?" Angela asked.

"You have no proof of that," Henry protested. "That's pure conjecture."

"Anyway, Peter already got in a little revenge for us." Neal explained about psyching Henry into thinking he had fleas.

Angela stopped glowering at Henry and was giggling by the time Neal finished the story and Henry complained about what he'd endured. She started roasting a marshmallow and said, "I guess I'll forgive you. Let's start over. No more agendas or copying what others have done here. We're three cousins roasting marshmallows over the fire." She smiled. In the flickering light of the fire her expression looked slightly evil. "Time for ghost stories."

"No!" said Henry. "No way."

"Why not?" asked Neal.

Now Angela looked smug. "Ghost stories freak him out. Once our parents took us on a camping trip together. The ghost stories started, and he got more uncomfortable by the minute."

"Then I told a ghost story that scared you silly," Henry countered. "By the end you were hiding behind your dad."

"I loved every minute of it. You're the one who had nightmares."

"That must have been quite a story," Neal said. "Do you remember any of it?"

"No!" Henry said again.

"It's been so long." Angela thought back. "It was about a boy who lived in a haunted house. Only he didn't know it was haunted. He kept seeing a younger boy who knew his way around and acted like he lived there, but of course that couldn't be. At first he thought it was a real kid messing with him. Then he realized no one else could see this visitor, and thought it was an imaginary friend. But one day he described this friend to his mom and she started crying and said he was dead…" She trailed off, looking up at Henry with wide eyes. "Oh, I never realized."

"The ghost was me?" Neal asked.

Henry took a deep breath. "After the Marshals took you and your mom away, we were supposed to forget about you. I was young enough, they probably assumed I'd forget if they just stopped talking about you. But sometimes I'd have these dreams, or even walking around the house something would trigger a memory of your last visit. I was certain they were real memories, and not my imagination, but it was weird that no one else seemed to remember you. One time when I told Mom about those memories, she cried. I had started thinking you had to be a ghost. I spun this theory that I'd had a baby brother who died in a tragic accident that was so horrific no one would talk about it. When I figured out you were alive in WITSEC, it was a huge relief. You weren't dead, and I wasn't crazy for remembering you."

Neal thought back to a comment Henry had made when he'd broken his arm last year and the painkillers had kicked in. "You said I'd haunted you. I didn't realize you meant… you know…"

Angela cleared her throat. "I propose a new family tradition. No ghost stories. When we roast marshmallows around a campfire, we will tell vampire stories. I'll start with one of my childhood favorites: Bunnicula."

A/N: The next chapter will be posted in a few weeks, and will feature Neal's actual birthday and the team building event with Winston-Winslow. My thanks to marvelous beta reader Silbrith for her support and suggestions as I finally kicked off these vignettes. Look for the first chapter in her next story to be posted about a week from now. It's titled Arkham Files: Visions from Beyond.

See my profile here and "The Penna Nomen and Silbrith Conversation" blog for more about the CC AU.

See the Caffrey Conversation AU Pinterest board for pictures of the characters, and the Caffrey Vignettes board for pins specific to these chapters.

If you want backstory for this AU, below I've provided basic info about the characters and the stories that are referenced in Spring Break.

Characters:

Neal Caffrey in this AU is about to turn twenty-six. He went into WITSEC at the age of three, and within a few years his mother started drinking and dating an abusive boyfriend. The boyfriend got revenge when she broke up with him by abducting nine-year-old Neal. The abductor shot a friendly stranger who tried to intervene, leading to Neal's abhorrence of guns. In the fall of 2004, Neal enrolled in Columbia where he is getting a dual master's degree in Visual Arts and Art History.

Peter Burke in this AU is thirteen years older than Neal. He was named the leader of the Manhattan White Collar task force in December, 2003. In that same month he went to St. Louis for an undercover op, where he encountered Neal. Their conversation in St. Louis led to Peter recruiting Neal into the FBI as a consultant.

Elizabeth Burke in this AU is the wife and event planner we know from canon, but it's several stories into the AU before she starts her business.

June Ellington is Neal's landlady, as she was in canon. In this AU we were able to meet her husband Byron before he died.

Angela Caffrey is Neal's younger cousin. She took a semester off from college when her father died, but finished her undergraduate degree at the University of Washington at the end of 2004 and then moved to NYC to get a PhD in ethnomusicology at Columbia. She loves organizing things, and works part time as a bookkeeper for the Aloha Emporium, which is owned by a friend of Mozzie's.

Henry Winslow is Neal's older cousin. He works as an investigator at Winston-Winslow (Win-Win), has a circuitous mind, and is pretty good at imitating Neal. He majored in psychology, but dropped out of college for a while; it's during that break he found runaway Neal and they hit the road.

Luke and Betty Burke are Peter's parents. Luke worked in construction, and Betty was a schoolteacher.

Joe Burke is Peter's older brother. He's about ten years older than Peter, and at the end of 2004 he married Henry Winslow's mother: Noelle.

Stories:

Peter recruited Neal into the FBI in the first story of this series, titled "Caffrey Conversation" (it's the name of the first story and also the name of this AU). When Peter asks Neal to name the bar and villain from St. Louis, those are references back to this initial story.

Neal's initial firearm certification takes place in the story "By the Book" after he takes away a character's gun in an op on New Year's Eve.

Neal's flashbacks to his abduction start in "Caffrey Conversation" and continue in "Choirboy Caffrey" and "By the Book." He remembers the whole experience in "Caffrey Flashback."

When Neal is overwhelmed by the flood of memories in "Caffrey Flashback," Peter takes Neal, Henry, Noelle and Elizabeth up to the Burke family cabin. That's the first use of the cabin in our AU, and that's when Neal and Henry go sledding. Several characters return to the cabin for Halloween in "The Woman in Blue" by Silbrith. At that time, Peter shows Neal the constellations named in this story, and Peter, Neal and El play a trick on Joe and Noelle by convincing them there is a bear in the cabin.

Henry was mentioned in the first stories but doesn't make an appearance until "By the Book." That's the story in which he breaks his arm and says he was haunted by Neal. His ability to impersonate Neal is featured in "Caffrey Flashback" and "Caffrey Disclosure."

Angela first appears as an adult in "Caffrey Flashback," and has a role in several subsequent stories, particularly "Caffrey Disclosure."

Neal, Henry and Angela are featured as children in the short story "Caffrey Envoy." That story includes the full account of them terrorizing their babysitter on St. Patrick's Day, including Neal's first car theft.

Neal, Henry and Angela posed as rock group Urban Legend in a sting against the founder of Masterson Music. Urban Legend is mentioned in earlier stories, but the sting is featured in "Caffrey Disclosure."

Neal took the entrance exams for Columbia in the short story "Complications" by Silbrith.

Neal started dating Fiona in "The Woman in Blue," the same story in which Michael is introduced. Michael starts dating Angela in "The Dreamer" by Silbrith.

Luke and Betty first appear for Thanksgiving with Barclay in "The Queen's Jewels" by Silbrith. They return for Christmas and the Joe-Noelle wedding in "Caffrey Aloha."

The photo album the others gave Neal was a gift in "Caffrey Aloha."

The stressful op involving Keller that occurred shortly before this story opens is featured in the story "The Mirror" by Silbrith.

The question of whether Neal is an only child or has a sibling is quite complicated; Neal learns the truth at the end of Caffrey Disclosure, and he shares that info with rest of his family in "Caffrey Aloha."