InsaneJournal

Who: Neal Caffrey & Ernie MacMillan
What: Perusing the city
When: A day or so after the monsters are gone
Where: Upper East Side towards Midtown Eastish
Warnings: Minimal; mentions of the monsters, etc.

If there was one way ensure Neal didn't confuse this city with the real city of New York, locking himself down in his apartment because actual and literal monsters had taken over the city was it. At first he'd kept to the villa, but after they'd breached the lobby, he rarely left the apartment and had fashioned a barricade that also served as a trap for any sudden knocking down of the door. Neal didn't do well when he felt caged, so as soon as it was confirmed that the monsters had disappeared, he bolted out of the apartment like the massive bolt of lightening that seemed to finally put an end to the entire ordeal.

The monsters may have disappeared, but the destruction they'd left behind certainly hadn't. Windows that weren't boarded up were smashed through, and the streets looked trashed. It was hard to see a city, or a version of the city, that he loved so much like this, but with all the extra hands assisting in clean up, he had to think that it would start looking back like itself in time. Barely here a few weeks and being stuck inside for most of that time meant that he didn't have too many connections outside his roommates and the handful of people he'd spoken to after his initial arrival. Rebuilding wasn't necessarily his strong suit unless it involved rebuilding or remastering a work of art, but he figured he could help out here and there.

Even though Neal knew that this wasn't really his city, he still couldn't help feel a pang of sadness as he walked the familiar streets and avenues. He hadn't dared walk past June's or the Burke's because he didn't want to face the possibility that the homes weren't there at all. Being here, he realized just how much he missed his friends and found family.

For the afternoon, he spent some time in Central Park and browsing through The Met to eye the damage there. Security had definitely taken a hit, and he was able to walk freely through the galleries, his fingers feeling itchy at just the thought of how easy it would be to walk out with a canvas under his arm. There were a few pieces he admired and some that had taken damage that made him almost sick to his stomach. One piece in particular that he'd always fancied, a Matisse, caught his eye and the wheels in his head began to turn with a plan. Oh, how dangerous was it for Neal Caffrey to be in New York with out his Jiminy Cricket conscious on his shoulder.

He left the Met without any stolen goods, for now, and wandered up Park Avenue and came across a Argosy Book Store, rare book shop that looked more or less abandoned. An idea began to formulate in his mind, and a grin spread across his face as he stared up at the shop.