Summary: Neal thinks he has mice…Read and find out more! (Based on a true story!)

Genre: Suspense/Humor

Disclaimer: I don't own anything but the idea since it happened to me just this morning! (07/30/10)

Neal—Me

Mozzie—Younger twin brother, Ray

Elle—Mom

Peter—Dad

June—June

I Heard Them!

June was out of town at a family reunion out in Florida; leaving Neal Caffrey, her tenant, home alone on his first day off.

Neal lied in his bed with his arms tucked behind his head, still clad in his pajamas made up of a white v-neck and blue flannel sweats. His dark hair was a mess, and his glazed-over, blue eyes were glued to the ceiling above him. His mind was on Kate and flashing back to the day she was murdered. He replayed the moment in his head over and over again, not being able to allow himself to forget.

It's all my fault. He told himself, his eyes beginning to burn with the memory.

However, he was immediately snapped from his thoughts when he heard a strange noise from beside him. It sounded as if something wet had popped, and the liquid was foaming out. The young man scrunched his face up in disgust as he imagined what the noise was similar to; popping a pimple, a water balloon full of murky water that's been popped with a needle, an egg sack that had just burst open.

Again, he was pulled from his ideas when he heard the strange foam-noise a second time. He sat up and looked around where the noise had come from; but, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. He lied back down, only to have his pure silence interrupted by the strange sound, a third time.

He wiped his eyes and climbed off his bed, not forgetting to reach for a nearby flashlight. Hesitantly, he reached for the sheets that hung over the bed frame—they concealed the underside and where he believed the noise had been coming from.

Please don't let it be maggots or spiders…He begged to himself inwardly. Peter knew that he hated guns, but what he didn't know about the consultant was that he had a phobia of insects and bugs.

On the countdown from 3, he ripped the covers up and turned his flashlight on as to look around. However, besides old forgeries—he couldn't let them go, they were some of his best pieces that he got to keep—and shoes; there was nothing unusual. Slowly lowering the sheets, he assumed it was nothing.

Suddenly, he heard a strange ticking noise from beside him. Since he was already on the ground aside his bed, the only other place that the noise could be coming from was the walls. Don't tell me I have rats…! He quickly pressed his ear against the wall and listened to the soft ticking noise. He remained there for a few minutes before deciding to call up Mozzie.

Mozzie answered it almost immediately. "Neal? What are you calling for? Don't you get the day off today?" Neal heard a gasp. "The bureau turned against you; didn't they? And The Suit, I was beginning to like The Suit!" Neal tried to talk, but was cut-off by his short friend once more. "Don't worry, I'll be over in a few. Just hang on." He said and hung up the phone with a click.

Neal stared at the cell phone in his hand, dumbfounded. He shrugged and sat on the couch as he waited for Mozzie to show up. While he waited he reluctantly noticed the ticking noise growing louder.

It was 10 minutes before the bald man knocked at his door. Neal got up to answer it saying, "Moz, Thank god you're here. I-"

"I knew this was going to happen the day I first heard you were released into the FBI's custody, I knew." He bellowed as he stormed in, obviously frustrated at the bureau and especially his friend's handler, Peter. "Listen, I've already got your new alias made; your name's Matt Donovan, you work at Best Buy as a geek, and you just recently had your wisdom teeth removed, so you get a few days off to recover." He said as he walked over and handed the young man the folder containing everything on his new identity.

"Moz, I didn't get fired from the bureau.." Neal explained, setting down the folder onto the table. "I called because I think I have mice."

"Mice? Neal, you called me because you think you have mice?" Moz said, turning around to look at him in disbelief.

"Yeah, I need another opinion. Here, just listen." He said, motioning for his friend over to the wall. Mozzie slowly walked over and pressed his ear to the wall. They both listened quietly to the noise. Mozzie moved from the wall and straightened up. "Tell me about this. From the beginning."

Neal gave details on how it started with a strange pop and foam noise about an hour before he arrived. Mozzie was confused about the foam noise. "Like a bubbling noise?" he asked skeptically.

"It sounded like suds, I don't know!" Neal said, feeling himself getting more and more annoyed. He leaned against the wall next to the door with his arms crossed.

Mozzie pressed his ear against the wall a second time and listened some more. "It's getting louder." He commented.

"You think?" Neal said facetiously.

Mozzie looked at him with a sarcastic smile and returned his attention to the wall. "Well, that's weird…"

"What?"

"I don't hear the mice talking."

Now it was Neal's turn to be confused. "What?" he asked, moving off the wall.

"The mice." Mozzie said without moving his ear off the wall. "They normally talk to each other."

"You've got to be kidding me." Neal sighed, leaning back.

"They do!" Mozzie repeated. "But, I'm not hearing anything."

Both were silent for a few minutes. Suddenly, the shorter man jumped up and started shooting at the wall randomly with a pistol he kept in his pocket. Neal jumped back. "Moz! Moz! Moz!" He called with his hands in front of him, hoping to get his friend to stop shooting at the wall.

He stopped after a few shots. "I heard them." He sighed, putting his gun away. Neal watched him incredulously. Moz felt the stare and looked at him after readjusting his shirt. "What?"

"How long have you been carrying that on you?" Neal asked.

"Oh, you mean this?" He said reaching for his gun.

Neal stopped him. "I don't need to see it again." He sighed. "Better question; why do you have that?"

"In case your friends in the FBI—or Alex—turn against us. I don't want you to be empty handed."

Neal shook his head with a smile, not even knowing what to say. Mozzie changed the subject. "Anyways, it looks like they'll have to tear this wall down."

Neal's eyes widened. "No! We can't do that; not yet. If June finds out—" Neal imagined the look on June's face if she discovered they had vermin. He shook his head. "No, we have to do this quietly. Isn't there anything else we can try?"

"Well, we can call The Suit." Mozzie suggested indifferently.

Neal pouted. He didn't want to disturb his partner at work. Not yet, at least. "Nah, let me try something. Hold on." He said, picking up his cell phone.

Elle hummed to herself as she and Satchmo did laundry. In reality, Satchmo just sat on his blanket in a light doze. Elle was in the middle of folding one of her husband's shirts when she heard the phone ring. She got up and quickly answered it with a polite, "Hello?"

"Elizabeth?"

"Neal! How are you? Don't you have the day off today?" She asked sounding as friendly as ever.

"I'm good. Today's been slow…" He lied. "How are you?" He asked. Elle was about to say she had been busy cleaning the house and she wanted to invite him to dinner, but she was cut-off when she heard a familiar, one of a kind, voice in the background. "Neal? Is that Mozzie I hear in the back?" She asked, now confused.

"Yeah," he sighed. "Hey, do you know who Peter calls for home repairs?"

Elle suddenly felt concern. "He doesn't call anyone. He's the handyman of the house. He does all the repairs himself." She answered. She heard him swear silently in the background. "Neal? Is everything all right?"

"Yeah. Mozzie just spilled some coffee onto June's carpet." He lied smoothly. She heard the short man yelling in the background. She was about to ask if he was sure everything was okay when he said, "Thanks anyways, Elle. Sorry for calling." He apologized.

"No, it's fine. You should call me more often; I get bored sometimes when Peter's not home." She said in a mock pouting-tone.

She heard him laugh. "All right, Elizabeth, you have a good one." He said, sounding as if he were smiling over the phone.

She smiled. "You too. Bye." She hung up and set the phone back on the receiver. She turned back to Satchmo, who woke up from his light daze and looked up when she did. She set her hands on her hips and. "Hmm." She said, pressing her lips at the retriever.

"Let's hope your father isn't busy."

"All right, you ready?"

"Neal, are you sure this is going to work? I mean, it sounds like a good plan, but I don't know…"

"C'mon, Moz. Sometimes you've got to just go for it."

"Says the man who's been caught twice."

Neal lightly kicked Mozzie in the face. The short man rubbed his nose. "Okay, okay," He began to push the other man into the small hole Neal made as to minimally get into the wall. Lucky for the con artist, he had been in this kind of situation before.

All Neal had to do was find the nest—or nests—and get rid of them by having Mozzie take down only the segment of the wall he finds it in. that way; all they would have to do is replace that part and making it an easy clean-up job. A simple search-and-destroy mission.

"Neal, Neal can you hear me?" Mozzie called through the wall.

"Yeah. Hand me the flashlight." He asked, reaching his hand out behind him. Mozzie handed him the flashlight he had used earlier and moved over to the noise.

Neal began crawling around in the tight space. "This is definitely no museum, Moz." Neal commented, coughing on some dust floating around.

"It's okay, just follow the sound of my voice."

Neal began in the direction of his voice. It felt as if it was getting tighter and tighter. On his search, Neal found a small object in front of him. "Moz, I think I found It." he called back, his voice strained. Neal flashed his light on it. "What?" he asked in misunderstanding.

"What? Is that it?" Mozzie asked through the wall.

"No, but I found a McDonald's big Mac in here. Ugh, it stinks. How did this get in here?"

Mozzie was silent. He remembered the time he had brought lunch from McDonald's over for them. It was cheap and easy. However, Mozzie ended up waiting for almost half-an-hour before Neal called his cell phone saying he couldn't make it for lunch since he was busy with a case.

Mozzie was annoyed and decided to play a prank on his friend by hiding his lunch in his room. After he had, he took a nap on the couch and didn't wake up until Neal came in saying he needed to get a nice car; legally. By that time, he had completely forgotten about the hamburger.

Neal pushed the expired hamburger out of the way with the tip of his flashlight. When it made a sagging noise, he nearly threw up. "I think I'm going to be sick." He whispered to himself. Way better than Peter's stakeout specials though. He shook his head, clearing his mind of the deviled ham sandwiches, pumped full of canned ham and garlic cloves. Instead, he focused on the task at hand and continued through the wall.

"Moz," He said, playing his own version of Marco Polo.

"Neal." He heard his friend's voice and went into the direction of it. As he crawled around, he found the bullet holes that filtered in light from the outside world. He was about to call Mozzie again, when he all of a sudden heard the door open and close. He heard a little mumbling, but he couldn't hear it clearly because being trapped in a wall does that to someone.

Neal heard tapping on the wall. Morse code. He thought.

N-E-A-L

D-O-N-T

M-A-K-E

A-N-Y

N-O-I-S-E

Neal listened to his friend's warning, tapping back,

O-K

W-H-O-S

T-H-E-R-E

He heard a single tap and that was all. He looked at the wall in confusion. What the hell does 'L' mean? Before he had any chance to think about it; he heard Mozzie yelp outside.

Neal couldn't stay quiet any longer. What if Mozzie was in real trouble? "Mozzie? Moz, what's going on out there? Moz!" Neal called out.

He closed his blue eyes and desperately listened in on the conversation. He heard a sigh and Mozzie saying, "It was his idea! I just went with it!" Neal began to wonder who Mozzie was talking to.

"Moz, who are you talking to?" Neal asked, eyes still closed. His eyes snapped open when he felt something grab his leg. The young man struggled against its grasp on his ankle—tracking anklet—but it was no use. He frantically tried to crawl away as he was slowly dragged backwards inch-by-inch.

As he was dragged out; he began thinking up ways he could talk himself out of this one. All the outcomes, everything from person he's dealing with to the situation at hand.

He was pulled free in seconds. He slid down onto the floor and sat there, waiting for his eyes to re-adjust to the daylight. When his vision cleared, he saw Mozzie and Peter hovering over him. "Peter? What're you doing here?" He asked, confused.

"I could ask you the same thing." He said, looking at the crawl space Neal was just in. Neal looked above him and grinned sheepishly. "I was looking for treasure." He lied, brushing off some of the dust from his clothes. He coughed a little from some of the powder. Peter held out his hand as to help him up. He accepted the offer and was pulled up to his feet.

"Now, what in hell were you two doing?" He asked both in astonishment and exasperatedly.

"Neal thinks he has rats." Mozzie said. Neal was about to say more, but the look on Peter's face made him shut up.

"Rats?" He asked skeptically.

The Mozzie and Neal nodded. Peter got up and pressed his ear to the wall to listen to the noise. He traveled down the wall to an outlet with a battery charger plugged in it. He stopped and leaned back from the wall. Neal and Mozzie exhchanged looks with each other. Neal mouthed, "What do you think he's going to do?"

Mozzie shook his head, not taking his eyes off of him and mouthing, "I don't know."

Suddenly, the noise stopped. All was silent in the hot room. Peter got up with a soft grunt. "I think this was your problem." He said, presenting the battery charger in the palm of his hand.

Neal looked at it in wonder. "Wait, you're telling me it was just this?" He held it in front of Peter's face, his hand trembling slightly.

"Yep."

"But how?" Neal asked, suddenly feeling exhausted, but still curious. "I always charge batteries with that."

"Well look," Peter said, taking the small item from the young man's hand. "See that liquid? It's called lithium, it's in all batteries now days. That's the popping and foaming you must have heard when this all started. How long do you think these have been charging for?"

"I think since last night." He answered, shrugging slightly.

"Last night?" Jesus, Neal! These only need to be charged for a few hours." Peter looked at the charger a second time. When he did, something new caught his eye.

"But again; I always charge my batteries with this. So, why is this time different than the others?" Neal quirked a brow at the object.

"Neal, I really hate to be the one to tell you this, but; I don't think Rayovac batteries are rechargeable."

"What? But the little lightning bolt on the label-" Neal said, pointing at the battery.

"Not rechargeable." Peter confirmed.

Neal's face was red with embarrassment. He shook his head slowly. "Peter, I-"

"No, no, this is a good thing. Because if you really had rats; just imagine all the work that would have to be done to this room. You wouldn't be able to sleep in here for weeks. And, if Elle hadn't called; that thing would've exploded and probably started a fire. That thing was a ticking time bomb." Peter assured him. "And, if you were in the wall when that happened, you'd be toast. Literally."

That didn't help the young man's humiliation. He hung his head, in defeat. Mozzie spoke. "Well, I knew he didn't have mice the whole time; I just went along with it." He said, folding his arms.

Neal's head snapped up. "Wait, you said you heard the mice talking. If it was just the charger; then what did you hear?"

Both Peter and Neal looked at him strangely. It was Mozzie's turn to be embarrassed. "I, err, I…" he started. "Look! The bat signal!" He yelled, pointing out in front of him. The partners looked, and suddenly realized it was a trick just as fast. By the time they'd looked back, half a second later, the short man was out of sight.

Peter looked at Neal. "Does he…?"

"Yeah. He doesn't like being told he's wrong." Neal said, shrugging doubtingly. He looked at Peter. "I'm so sorry about making you waste your lunch break. I seriously thought-"

"Apologize one more time and I'll have you back behind bars, Caffrey." He threatened. "And if you hadn't, I'm sure it would've been bad." Peter said as he walked to the door. "Oh, and Neal, one more thing; Elle says 'hi'." He said with a smirk. He opened the door and let himself out.

Neal stood in his apartment alone. I can't believe it was the charger. He thought bitterly. He turned to the mirror and examined himself. He was completely covered in dust. He patted his hair once to see the dust come off it. He looked at the open door leading to the bathroom, then at the hole in the wall.

He looked at the flashlight in his hand, and back at the hole. He grinned, deciding that he did have a few hours of his day off left.

End

Again, based off a true story! Sorry if the characters are a bit OCC! I tried my best to keep them as White Collar-ish as possible! Please R&R! Flames will be used to roast weenies and marshmallows by the campfire!