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Psychic in the City (Chap 4/2+6)

Title: Psychic in the City
Fandom: Psych, White Collar
Characters: Shawn, Gus, Peter, Neal, El, Mozzie, Diana, Jones with cameos from Henry, Juliet & Lassiter
Word Count: 1028
Rating: PG-13
Overall Summary: Shawn tags along when Gus goes to New York City for a convention. He takes the time to look up old friends.
Chapter Summary Shawn and Neal learn they have a stalker
Notes: I honestly don't know the inspiration for this but I wanted to have the two meet as teens after leaving home. There are many conflicting dates regarding when Neal was born, but one of them only makes him a month younger than Shawn so I used it. I'd also like to thank my three betas snowflakie06, slytheringurrl and the_moogie

Due to an error on my part, there are only 6 chapters, not 7 in addition to the prologues.

First Prologue Second Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3




Jones came up to the apartment to wait with them until the detail to watch the house was in place. Of course he wanted to know how they had met and they had to tell the story again.

“Go on and tell Diana,” said Neal. “You’ve probably been trading theories.”

“Yeah, and an art museum was nowhere on the list.”

His phone rang and Jones had a brief conversation before ending the call. “Okay, time for me to go. Diana or Peter will be by later to bring your phones.”

“Thanks, Jones.” Neal escorted him to the door. “If we come up with anything, we’ll let you know.” He closed the door behind the agent.

Shawn was about to say something, but Neal held up a hand to stop him. He then counted down from five before opening the door to reveal Mozzie poised to knock.

“I waited for Junior Suit to leave,” he said as he made a beeline to the wine. “I came over when I heard what happened at the Met. You guys got national coverage.”

“My dad called from California.”

Mozzie nodded that he heard, but didn’t comment as he poured himself some wine. “So, did Suit take you downtown and interrogate you?”

“No, he did not.” Neal eyed Mozzie’s hand and the other man put the bottle down on the counter.

Shawn and Neal then took turns relating what happened, up to and including the photo.

“This is not good. You’ve been stalked, tagged and taunted.”

“I’m not wildlife, Moz.”

“This guy is good,” said Shawn. “He pulled this off spur-of-the-moment. There was no way he could have planned on us going to the museum, unless…”

“He bugged us somehow,” finished Neal. “But even so, the Met was closed at the time last night and had barely opened when we got there.”

“It could be that he’s had the idea to do this for some time and just waited to use it.”

Neal looked at Mozzie and Shawn knew they probably had planned lots of heists that had yet to be carried out. “What’s the deal with this chalice thing, anyway? It’s not like it’s the Holy Grail.”

Neal and Mozzie shared a look.

“No way! What? Did Dr. Jones donate it to the Met when he came back?”

“It’s not the real Grail…”

“It’s only a model,” Shawn couldn’t resist.

“When it was discovered in the early 1900s, that’s what the inner cup was called. It’s been dated to the first half of the 6th century so it can’t be the Grail.”

“So who would want this? Did he take it for himself or is he going to sell it?” questioned Mozzie.

“What are the odds that he’s had a buyer lined up and it coincides with framing Neal?” Shawn wanted to know.

“What I don’t understand is why me?” Neal complained. “OK, I get why it could be me, but what grudge could this guy have?”

Mozzie’s phone pinged and he pulled it from his pocket and checked the screen. “Oh, no. He’s found me! How did he find me? No one should be able to find me!”

“Breathe, Moz.” Neal took the phone from his hand and looked to see what could have caused such panic. It was a photo of a much younger Neal and Shawn from Chicago. He mutely passed the phone to Shawn.

“C’mon, it can’t be that--” He saw the photo. “Crap.” He studied the picture to place where it had been taken. “It’s that restaurant by the museum, the one we’d stop at every once and awhile.”

“Yeah. Narrows down who stole the chalice.”

“I’m gonna guess this has something to do with why you left so suddenly.”

“I was hired to recreate some documents.”

“You can say ‘forge’. You are among friends.”

“That was the word they used. And since that was the term, I didn’t make an exact copy. When I learned what it was for – who it was for – I took off. I think he’s done a couple of stints in prison since then, I’m aware of at least one while I was…making a name for myself.”

“That could have pissed him off, easily,” commented Shawn. “Now you’re both out and both on the same continent so he came for you. I think we need to call Peter.”

“No, we should wait until we have more proof.” He looked to Mozzie.

“I’m with Shawn on this. All three of us are involved now. The guy’s waited 20 years, he won’t care who gets in his way.

“What’s the name?” Shawn asked.

“Mark Ridley.”

Shawn knew that name. The guy had been on Lassiter’s Wall of Crime. “Seriously? You crossed the guy all that time ago and literally lived to talk about it?”

“It was all circumstances and fate. Believe me, those first months were lived in fear, constantly looking over my shoulder. I didn’t relax until I heard he was in prison. At that point, we were into the con with Adler. I was comfortable, secure.”

“You conned that Ponzi guy?”

“We were doing a long con and he caught on.” Neal was short, effectively road-blocking that avenue of conversation.

“Give me your phone.” Shawn held out his hand to Mozzie.

“It’s bad enough the Psycho from Chicago has my number, you want the Suit to know?”

“Like you were going to hold onto the phone after this,” Neal stated.

“Point taken.” Mozzie handed his phone to Shawn. “I don’t like how well you know me.”

“Yeah, you do.”

Shawn dialed Peter’s cell. “Shawn, what’s going on?” he answered.

“We were brainstorming when he sent another photo on Mozzie’s cell,”

“Mozzie’s?”

“Yeah. He must know that you have our phones and knew that Mozzie would come by.”

“Oh, that must’ve put him into a panic,” Peter chuckled.

“Yep. He wanted to go deeper than the Marianas. You’d better get over here before he decides to deep-six the phone.” Way to carry a metaphor!

“Okay. I’ll stop by the lab and get your phones before heading over. And, Shawn?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks. I don’t think Neal would have called.”

“Right. See you soon.”

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