Hey everybody. Before you start reading I must tell you that English isn't my first language so I hope you don't mind the mistakes I make. If something really bothers you, you can message me or review this story. I'll try to correct all the biggest mistakes I make.

Yeah and if you like it please review and tell what you think of it. If you review it I'll update sooner and keep on writing the story.

Neal took a step away from his painting and observed it with contentment. He had been working on this Monet for a long time now and finally had the outcome he'd wished for. Neal smiled widely and stepped back to the easel to sign the painting. He grabbed the paintbrush but was suddenly startled by someone forcing his door open.

Neal turned quickly to see who was entering and saw at least five FBI agents coming running inside his attic guesthouse. The FBI agents were pointing guns at him and someone ordered him to drop the brush, go down to his knees and put his hands behind his head.

"W-What's going on?" Neal mumbled as he raised his hands slowly. Then someone else stepped to his apartment. It was agent Ruiz. What was Ruiz doing here? He ran the organized crimes unit. Why would he show up in Neal's apartment?

Behind Ruiz came Peter. Peter wasn't looking at Neal, he kept on staring the floor like it was the most interesting thing he'd ever seen. Neal looked back at agent Ruiz questioningly.

"Neal Caffrey, you are under arrest. You have the right to remain silent", Ruiz started taking great pleasure in every word as he walked to Neal and grabbed the younger man's hands roughly pulling him back to his feet and cuffing him.

Neal's eyes widened. What had he done now? The answer was simple. Nothing. Neal hadn't done anything illegal for a long time now. Well nothing the Feds could have him on anyway.

"What is this?" he asked puzzled. No one answered. "Peter?" Neal pleaded and got Peter to raise his gaze and look straight into Neal's bright blue eyes. The look on Peter's eyes got Neal stumbling. There was nothing more in the look but anger and on top of that only huge disappointment. It was like Neal would have let Peter's trust down. Big time. This was something serious. And Peter didn't have a doubt about who'd done it. He was sure it had been Neal this time.

"But I didn't do anything", Neal whispered but nobody heard him.

Ruiz was too busy enjoying himself and telling Neal his rights. "Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford a lawyer, one will be provided for you at government expense."

Ruiz wasn't listening to Neal. But neither was Peter. Peter just didn't want to hear. His consultant. His partner. His friend. What the hell, Neal had been so much more to him. He had been Peter's little brother. His son. His best friend. And then Neal had just destroyed everything. He had let Peter down.

•••

"I have the right to know what you're arresting me for!" Neal demanded as two agents started dragging him away from the apartment. Ruiz waved a hand to the agents to stop and smiled to Neal.

"Oh right sure. As if you didn't already know what you've done. You are our prime suspect in a theft and forgery of a painting from Met. Garden at Sainte-Adresse by Claude Monet. I'm sure you know it." Neal's eyed widened and he looked at Peter pleading.

Peter scowled at Neal and opened his mouth for the first time: "And our only suspect. We know you did it."

•••

Neal cursed himself for not covering the painting he had been working on when Ruiz spotted it and smiled even wider.

"Well what do we have here?" He walked to the easel and examined the painting. "I suppose this is a Monet too."

One of the agents looked at the painting and confirmed Ruiz's guess: "Mm yeah it's a Monet. Called Bridge over a Pond of Water Lilies."

Peter lowered his gaze back to the floor. This looked really bad for Neal. He was apparently forging more Monets than just one. And Peter got even more nervous realizing that the original painting of the Monet he was looking at Neal's apartment was hanging at the Met. Maybe it wouldn't have been there much longer if they hadn't caught Neal this early. He had probably been planning another theft ever since he succeeded in the first one.

"Take him to the car. Mine", Peter told the agents that had a firm grip on Neal's shoulders and arms. "He was my partner. I trusted him. And now I must be the one sending him back to where he belongs. Back to the prison."

•••

EARLIER THE SAME MORNING

Peter was going to stop at a coffee shop and get coffee for him and Neal. They both had a day off today but Elizabeth had asked Neal for a lunch to the Burkes' and Peter thought he would go get Neal from June's apartment and they could spend the day together. On the way he got a phone call. It was Hughes.

"Peter, I'm really sorry I have to bother you on your day off but there has been a robbery at the Met. You need to go there right now." Peter sighed but had no chance but to agree.

"And Peter", Hughes continued, "you shouldn't take Caffrey with you. The detectives already there say it's his MO and it seems like an simple case."

Peter dropped the phone in surprise. He didn't believe Neal would have done it. He wouldn't have thrown away everything he had accomplished. Or would he? Peter just didn't know anything anymore. He had to see the crime scene and the evidence first. Then he could decide what to think about it.

Peter drove fast to the museum and was taken to the crime scene. There was a painting on the wall that looked perfectly like the painting Peter had seen when Neal had tried to teach him something about art and shown him the most famous paintings from the Met. But now the original Monet was gone and that painting on the wall was a forgery.

One of the officers at the scene told Peter quickly all the details. Last night someone had turned the Met's security camera pointing to the Monet off and known all the blank spots of the cameras. The con must be someone who knew Met very well. The officers were able to find a fingerprint, which was at the moment being compared to the database. But Neal's MO was all over the scene. And according to the FBI database he was the only con artist anywhere close to New York good enough to make a forgery that perfect.

"Damned Neal what have you done?" Peter thought desperately as he drove to the FBI office.

Peter had been sitting in his office for only some minutes when Jones hurried to his door and stepped in without knocking.

"It's his. The fingerprint is his. Caffrey did it."

•••

Neal was pushed roughly to the backseat of the Taurus and cuffed to the door handle so he couldn't run. Two agents stayed outside the car guarding him so even though he could pick the handcuffs he still could not escape.

Neal didn't remember if the cops had always been so rough on him and treating him almost violently. He had hurt his elbow pretty badly when the agents had dragged him down the stairs.

June had been downstairs talking with some other agents and Neal couldn't see her face. He knew she wouldn't be as disappointed in him as the Burkes were. Her husband had been a criminal so she wouldn't hate him even if he would go to prison. But Peter would. And the worst thing was that Neal had no idea how he would make everybody believe he didn't do it. He really didn't.

Really hope you liked it but please review even if you didn't so I can get some feedback. The second chapter is almost finished so updating won't take long.