A/N: Let me just say this: the title is not just a mash-up of the two shows' names. It's significant. Eventually.

"You have got to be kidding me."

Neal turned his head to frown at Moz. "What?"

Moz shook his head, pointedly not looking in the same direction he just had been. "It's nothing, just I-- I thought I recognized someone."

Neal turned to look. "Who?"

Moz sighed, shoulders sagging. "My cousin."

Neal blinked, staring between the crowd of people in front of them and Moz. "Why is that such a big deal? Who is he?"

"Name's Sam Axe. Used to be a Navy SEAL. Everyone always liked him better than me. Why the hell is he in Chicago? Why now?"

Neal's eyes were still scanning, trying to figure out which person Moz was talking about. "Where's he from? What's he do now?"

Moz glared at Neal. "Sure, why don't we just play twenty questions. He's from Miami. I don't know what he does now. I just now he's a wash-out drunk. Likes divorced women."

Neal raised an eyebrow at Moz. "Everyone liked him better than you?"

"I know, right?" Moz exclaimed. Finally, he pointed. "That one. Grey hair. Talking with the tan dude standing next to that hot chick."

Neal looked and whistled. "Wow."

Moz frowned at him. "Oh, please, don't. Please, please, please, please..."

But Neal was already walking away. As he approached the trio, he watched them intently, trying to decide how best to strike up a conversation. Moz's cousin and the stern looking man seemed to be in a heated argument, the women piping in vehemently every now and again. Before Neal could figure out the best approach, however, Moz bolted past him, straight for his cousin.

"Sam!" Moz exclaimed, sounding thrilled. Sam Axe turned, surprised.

"Mozzie?" he asked. "Or what are you going by these days?"

Moz nodded. "Still Mozzie. What are you doing here in Chicago? Thought you were in Miami!"

Neal walked up behind his friend, amused by the poor acting. Sam didn't look convinced either.

"I thought you were in New York," Sam threw back. Moz shrugged.

"We're on vacation."

Neal snorted. Vacation. Peter would've loved that description of what they were doing. In a smoldering annoyance sort of way.

"Who is this, Sam?" the tanned man asked, brow furrowed. The woman was also watching Moz and Neal scrutinizingly. Neal gave her his trademark smile and was surprised to find her glare only intensified.

Sam gestured at Moz. "This is my, uh, cousin. Mozzie. At least, that what he goes by. Not sure who his friend is, though."

"Neal Caffery," Neal replied, stepping forward and sticking out his hand. Sam's eyes flicked down to Neal's hand and then back up to Neal.

"The Neal Caffery? Art thief and forger?"

Neal smiled, letting his hand drop. "Guilty as charged."

"Sam..." The stern man's tone was warning, urgent.

"Yeah, Mike. Uh, Mozzie, it's good to see you but we're kinda..."

"Busy," Moz finished for him, nodding. "Totally understand. Go ahead, we'll be out of your hair."

"Wait," Neal interrupted. "You didn't introduce your friends to us." He threw on his best charming face, indicating the woman and the stern man. Sam glanced at his friends and the man frowned, but sighed.

"My name's Michael. This is Fiona."

Neal nodded, satisfied. "Good to meet you. Maybe we can grab a drink together while we're all in town."

Michael didn't look convinced. "Yeah. Maybe."

Moz was getting twitchy. "Yeah, sounds like a plan, we have to go now. Come on, Neal."

Neal allowed Moz to drag him away, but he kept his eyes on the trio. There was something about them... Neal wasn't going to let this one go.

A/N: I'M SO FREAKING EXCITED ABOUT THIS! I don't know about you...

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