Let Your Heart Hold Fast: Bicycles, Weddings, and Kittens


This story takes place in the "Let Your Heart Hold Fast" universe. For those of you who haven't read it, you can find it on my profile page. Otherwise, just know that Neal is six years old in this story and has been adopted by Peter and Elizabeth. Everything other than Neal's age is as close to canon as I can make it.


Neal had never been more excited in all of his six years. He woke up earlier than either of his parents, making sure to make his bed as neatly as he could. He also spent several minutes picking up his art supplies and rearranging his art cabinet.

Once he was done cleaning up his room, he walked quietly into his parent's room, hoping that one of them would be awake. Unfortunately, they were both still soundly sleeping, although he had no idea how his mommy could sleep when his daddy was snoring so loudly.

Not knowing what else to do, Neal climbed up on the bed, intending to crawl up next to Elizabeth. Not really giving it much thought, he climbed up over Peter's legs as carefully as he could. Right when he was almost up at the top of the bed, his feet became tangled up in the part of the comforter that had been pushed away by Peter, causing him to fall directly onto him.

"Oof!" Peter groaned as he rolled over into the fetal position.

Elizabeth sat straight up in the bed and looked around wildly in an attempt to figure out what had happened. After seeing her husband squirming in pain, her eyes landed on a very subdued and guilty looking Neal.

"Neal? What are you doing, sweetie? What happened to Daddy?"

"Good morning, Mommy," he said with a grin and a giggle. "My legs got all tangled up and I fell on Daddy."

"Peter? Are you okay?" Elizabeth asked, once she noticed that her husband was squirming a little less than before.

Peter took a few deep breaths and then rolled back onto his back. "What are you doing, Neal? It's only five-thirty in the morning. And why did you kick me in the groin?"

"I didn't mean to, Daddy," Neal explained. "It just happened when I fell on you."

"Well, you wouldn't have fallen on me if you were still in bed where you belonged," Peter said grumpily.

"Did you have a bad dream, sweetie?" Elizabeth asked the still grinning Neal.

"Nope," Neal laughed. "I just woke up early because today is going to be the best day ever."

Peter groaned again at Neal's words, but stopped when Elizabeth glared at him and poked him in the shoulder.

"It is going to be a great day, Neal, but it's still awfully early. What do you say we try to get a little more sleep first, okay?"

"But, Mommy, if we wait, the one I want might be gone. We need to go now!"

"Neal, the store doesn't even open for four more hours," Peter explained. "And I doubt that the bike you want is gone."

"But, what if it is?" Neal whined.

"If it is, we'll just pick out another one," Peter said, trying to keep the frustration out of his voice..

"I don't want another one," Neal cried. "I want that one!"

"El, do something," Peter said as he looked at his wife in frustration.

Elizabeth sent another glare to her husband, before pulling Neal up onto her lap. "Neal, you're getting yourself all worked up over something that hasn't even happened. Let's try to calm down a little, okay? We'll try to sleep a little longer and then after breakfast we'll go get your bike."

Neal knew better than to argue. "Okay, Mommy," he said. "But can I sleep with you? I already made my bed."

Elizabeth pulled back the blanket and motioned for Neal to climb in bed as Peter rolled over on his side, hoping to be able to fall back to sleep. After a few minutes of wiggling and squirming, Neal finally seemed to settle down and Peter was finally able to try to go back to sleep. Just as he was drifting off, he felt Neal moving again. Seconds later, he gasped when Neal's ice-cold foot somehow found its way up under his shirt.


After several hours, Peter was the first one to wake up. When he realized that it was only eight o'clock, he thought about going back to sleep. He changed his mind, though, when he realized that Neal's knobby knees were poking him in the back again. He was always amazed at how active the little boy was even in his sleep.

Once he pulled himself out of bed, he turned to look at the still sleeping duo. Elizabeth was turned onto her side, her face relaxed with an obviously content look. Neal was sprawled out on his back with one hand firmly holding onto a lock of his mother's hair. Peter noticed that his eyelids were partially open and his eyes were moving rapidly back and forth, causing him to wonder if the boy was dreaming.

After watching Neal and Elizabeth sleep for a few seconds, he went downstairs and started a pot of coffee. He was glad that it was a Saturday, especially after the week they had at the office. Their latest case was fairly intense and involved a few really nasty people. Peter couldn't wait to be done with it, actually.

After making a quick call to Diana to see if anything had come of the Friday night stakeout, he sat down and drank his coffee. He was on his second cup when he heard voices upstairs, followed by the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs. Seconds later, Elizabeth walked in carrying a still sleepy-looking Neal, whose hair was sticking up in all directions.

"Morning," he said as Elizabeth sat Neal down in his chair.

"Good morning," she answered, giving him a kiss on the cheek. "What do you want for breakfast?"

"I thought maybe we could just grab something on the way to the store," Peter suggested. "There's that new little diner right there on the corner, remember? Jones said they had great omelets."

"That sounds great," Elizabeth said. "I'll go get ready, if you want to get Neal ready. But, maybe give him some fruit or something first, okay? His stomach was growling rather loudly when he woke up."

Peter quickly cut up a banana and spooned a small amount of yogurt on a plate for Neal. The boy's eyes were slowly closing and his head slowly drifting downward.

"Hey, little man, are you awake?"

Neal's head bobbed to his chin, but then he brought it back up, looking at Peter with half-lidded eyes. "I'm awake, Daddy, but my eyes won't stay open," he whined. "I think I need some coffee."

"Mommy wouldn't be very happy with me if I let you have coffee, bud. Plus, that's the last thing someone as energetic as you needs."

"I won't tell her, Daddy. I'll keep it a secret, I promise."

"No way, buddy. Now, eat up, so we can go get ready."

Neal picked up a banana slice and looked at it closely. "This isn't how Mommy cuts up my banana," he said. "I don't like it like this."

"Neal, the banana tastes the same no matter how it's cut up. Just eat it."

Neal looked at Peter grumpily. "It tastes better the way Mommy cuts it," he declared after taking a bite. "And she cuts out the brown spots."

Peter rolled his eyes, but grabbed the plate and quickly cut out the small brown spot. "There," he said as he pushed the plate back in front of Neal.

"Mommy puts the bananas in the yogurt, too," Neal said.

"I think you can put the bananas in the yogurt, can't you? After all, you're six years old now."

"I could do that when I was five, Daddy," Neal answered. "But, it tastes better when someone else does it."

Knowing that this particular conversation could go back and forth all day, Peter picked up the plate and mixed the yogurt and bananas together. "There, now eat up."

Neal still wore a frown on his little face. "Mommy gives me a special spoon, Daddy. I don't like this one."

"Neal!" Peter said loudly. "Just eat!"

Neal jumped slightly at the loudness of Peter's voice and quickly started eating. Peter was relieved that the boy was finally doing what he was told, but he felt guilty for raising his voice. He felt even worse a minute later when Neal, who was staring forlornly into his yogurt, said in a quiet voice, "Mommy never yells at me."


Fifteen minutes later, Peter led a very subdued six year old up the stairs and into the bathroom. He attempted to brush through Neal's thick hair without hurting him and then watched closely as Neal brushed his teeth. Once the teeth were done to his satisfaction and Neal's hair was behaving as well as it could, Peter led him into his room to get dressed. Helping Neal with picking out his clothes was definitely in Peter's top ten list of dreaded tasks. The boy had definite ideas of what he wanted to wear on any given day and Peter had realized that there usually wasn't much point in arguing with him. He had learned the hard way that the best plan was to pick which battles were worth fighting.

Trying to get Neal in the appropriate mindset, Peter started talking about how much fun it would be to ride his bike up and down the sidewalk and in the park. Neal had been so excited when Elizabeth had suggested buying him a bike. His friend, Caleb, had recently gotten a bike for his birthday, and Elizabeth had noticed how Neal had looked at the bike longingly. When she suggested the idea to Peter, he had thought it a great idea, too. He remembered how much he had loved his bike when he was a child, and he wanted the same for Neal.

Reaching into Neal's dresser, Peter pulled out a t-shirt and a pair of shorts.

"Here you go, Neal," he said as he put them down on the bed. "Mommy's probably almost ready, so let's hurry."

Neal eyed the clothes on his bed and then turned, walked to his closet, and pulled out a button-up shirt and a pair of khakis. "I need to look good today, Daddy. This is an important day."

"Neal, we're going to a department store and picking out a bike. It hardly calls for such dressy clothes."

Peter's statement didn't deter Neal in the least. Instead, he dressed as quickly as he could, missing a few buttons along the way, and then went back to his closet to pick out a tie. Peter watched as Neal put the tie around his neck and tightened it. He couldn't keep from smiling at the sight of Neal's shirt buttoned up wrong and his tie hanging crookedly.

Once Neal put his socks and shoes on, he reached for his favorite fedora, causing Peter to groan. The kid looked like a miniature Dean Martin.

"Neal, do you have to wear the hat?" Peter tried, knowing that it was pointless.

"I told you, Daddy…..I have to look my best today."

"I know, I know," Peter sighed. "It's an important day. Come here, so I can fix your shirt."

Neal walked over to Peter, waiting patiently while the man re-buttoned the shirt and straightened the tie. Peter could tell that Neal was thinking seriously about something by the way his tongue poked out of the corner of his mouth a little.

"What are you thinking about, Neal?" he finally asked.

"I was just thinking that you should wear a hat, too, Daddy. Do you want to borrow one of mine?"

"I think I'll pass, bud. Hats just aren't my thing."


Elizabeth thought that Neal looked absolutely adorable, of course, causing Peter to roll his eyes for what seemed like the twentieth time that morning. Once they arrived at the diner, he felt like rolling them again and again, as person after person commented on how adorable Neal looked in his hat. He, of course, thought the kid looked adorable, too, but he would never admit it out loud.

After they were finished eating, they drove a mile down the road to the department store that Elizabeth liked to shop at. Neal could hardly contain his excitement and Peter could barely contain the headache that was blooming from all of the excited squeals coming from his son. He had to scold Neal several times for running too far ahead of them in the store, so by the time they were in the sporting goods department they were all three in testy moods.

Neal's testiness immediately evaporated at the sight of the bike that he so desperately wanted. He declared loudly that it was the best bike ever made, causing several near-by shoppers to laugh at his exuberance.

With Peter's headache worsening by the second, he eagerly searched for a salesman. After a few minutes, he returned to the bicycle section with a young man in tow and showed him which bike they wanted. The young man wrote down the serial number and then went back to the warehouse to find the bike. Ten minutes later, he walked back out, without the bike.

"I'm sorry, sir," the young man said. "We don't have any more of that particular bike left."

Peter and Elizabeth exchanged a nervous look, both obviously dreading Neal's reaction to that news.

"Maybe there's another bike you like?" the young man asked Neal.

"I like this one," Neal said matter-of-factly.

The salesman looked at Peter and Elizabeth, not knowing what else to do. "I could order one," he told them. "It will probably get here in a week or two."

"I like this one," Neal said again.

"Sweetie, isn't there another bike you like? How about this red one?" Elizabeth tried to get Neal to check out the other bikes, but the boy wasn't budging.

"I want this one, Mommy," he said. "It's green and it has black handles."

"I'm sorry, kid," the salesman said. "We don't have any of those left."

"That's okay. I'll take this one," Neal said, still holding onto the bike.

By this time, Peter could tell that Neal was getting mad and he knew that he needed to put a stop to it. "We'll just take this one," he told the salesman.

"I can't sell you that one, sir. It's a floor model."

Peter could literally feel his blood pressure rising. "Why can't you sell the floor models?" he asked.

"We have to have approval from our corporate office," the young man informed them nervously.

"Well, perhaps you can do that, then," Peter suggested.

"We don't usually do that on the weekends, sir," he answered.

Before Peter could say anything, Neal stepped up to the salesman, standing with his feet spread apart and his hands on his hips. "Mister, my Daddy is a FBI agent, so you better do what he says before he arrests you."

"Neal!" Peter said loudly. "That's enough."

"But, he's not doing what he's told, Daddy," Neal whined. "How come I get in trouble when I don't listen, but he doesn't?"

"I'm not his father, Neal. And he's a grown man. And you need to be respectful, little man."

Neal stepped back over to the bike with a pout on his face. The young man looked nervously at Peter, thinking that he looked much more intimidating, now that he knew he was an FBI agent.

"If you'll excuse me, sir, I'll go and talk to my manager. Maybe we can work something out."

Peter watched as the young man scurried away nervously, making him feel even guiltier. Turning to look at Neal, he could feel his blood pressure rising again. "Neal, that was uncalled for, little man. He's just trying to do his job and you were rude to him. I expect better from you." Turning to Elizabeth, he continued. "Maybe we should just leave and come back when Neal's learned to be more respectful."

"No!" Neal cried. "I know how to be respectful, Daddy. I just thought that if he knew you were important, he would let us have the bike."

"Neal, sweetie," Elizabeth said. "When he comes back, I want you to apologize, okay?"

"Okay, Mommy," Neal answered sadly.

A few minutes later, the young man returned with an older lady following him. "This is my manager," he said quickly. "She's going to see if she can help you."

"Thank you," Peter said. "But, before we get into that, my son has something to say."

They all watched as Neal stepped forward, shyly. "Mister Salesman? I'm sorry for being disrespectful. My Daddy won't really arrest you."

"You really want that bike, don't you?" the salesman asked Neal.

"It's the bestest bike ever!" Neal answered.

"Well, thank you for the apology, kid. I wasn't really worried that your dad would arrest me, but he is a little scary when he's mad. I hope you're not in too much trouble."

Neal looked up at Peter and then turned back to the salesman. Leaning forward, he whispered loudly into the young man's ear. "He's not really scary," Neal admitted. "But, I let him think he is anyway."

Everyone around him heard what Neal said, causing them all to laugh…..except Peter.


After talking to the manager for several minutes, who instantly fell in love with Neal, they came to an agreement over the bike. Peter and Elizabeth agreed to buy the bike "As Is," which voided out some of the warranty on it. They were satisfied with the deal and minutes later, Neal was the proud owner of a new green and black bike. He couldn't wait to get home and ride it, so he was disappointed when Elizabeth wanted to do a little more shopping in the store.

By the time they left, Neal's impatience was annoying both Peter and Elizabeth. At one point, Elizabeth had had enough, surprising both Peter and Neal with her sternness.

"Neal George Caffrey-Burke! If I hear one more word from you about going home and riding your bike, you won't be riding it at all for a couple of days. Now, I need to go to one more department and then I'll be done. If you behave, we will be on our way home in twenty minutes, and you can ride your bike. If you don't behave, we'll be on our way home in twenty minutes and your bike will be put away until Tuesday. Your choice, Neal."

Peter could tell that Neal didn't like either of the choices, but he wisely kept his mouth shut. True to her word, Elizabeth finished her shopping quickly, and within twenty minutes they were on their way home. Once they parked in front of the house, Elizabeth turned around to face an uncharacteristically subdued Neal.

"Thank you, Neal, for behaving and letting me finish my shopping. Now, what do you say we get out and give that bike a whirl?"

Neal eagerly climbed out of the car, anxious to learn how to ride his bike. He wasn't too happy when Elizabeth told him to go inside and put on some play clothes, but he did as he was told. Five minutes later, he bounded out of the door to where Peter and Elizabeth were waiting on the sidewalk. Stopping in front of the bike, he suddenly looked unsure of himself.

"I'll hold the bike while you climb on, Neal," Peter said with a smile.

Neal looked nervously at the bike, which suddenly looked so much bigger than it had in the store. "I changed my mind," he said. "I don't want to ride a bike."

Elizabeth knelt down in front of Neal and pulled him in closer. "I know it's a little scary, sweetie, but you can do it. And I know you'll be great at it."

Neal stepped closer to the bike and looked up at Peter. "It's okay, little man," Peter said. "I won't let you fall, I promise."

Without a second thought, Neal climbed up onto the bike. "I'm ready, Daddy, but don't let go, okay?"

"Never," Peter answered.


Author's note: Well, I couldn't help it. I just had to play a little more in the "Let Your Heart Hold Fast" universe. It seems I just need a 'little Neal' fix every so often.

As you can probably tell by the title, I'm not yet done with this story. I imagine it will probably be 2-4 chapters long, but no promises. I know there will be at least one more chapter, though.

Thanks so much for giving it a read. If anyone is confused by the dynamics of this story, I respectfully suggest that you read "Let Your Heart Hold Fast" which can be found on my profile page. It would probably help to explain a lot, lol.

Again, thanks for reading. I would love to hear your thoughts on the story.