I realise I haven't updated any of my stories in forever, for which I am sorry. It's been a crazy year and writing has been difficult. I haven't even seen this last season of White Collar, or read any recent fiction, although that is because I'm sort of worried what will happen, that I'll have to deal with in my stories.

But this idea popped into my head for a Christmas short, so I decided to get it written. It's loosly based on actual events relayed to me by friend, but I decided to embellish it in true White Collar fashion. Originally I planned on making this a one shot, but looks like it will be 2 - 3 chapters. Hope all of you enjoy.

You Better Watch Out

Peter's work was interrupted by box being dropped unceremoniously onto his desk with a "June says to tell you Merry Christmas and give you this."

The box caused Peter to start in surprise knocking his elbow against the penholder to his left and causing the entire contents to scatter across his desk and onto the floor.

"Neal," the agent yelped, shoving away from his desk and just managing to avoid hitting his coffee cup, still full to the brim with the offices freshly made sludge.

Neal was the picture of innocence. "What?" He held his hands up in surrender. "I'm just the messenger. June was very adamant I give this to you right away since there are still three weeks until Christmas."

"June has impeccable manners, she would never tell you to drop something in the middle of my work." Peter countered as he gathered.

Neal just shrugged carelessly and dropped into the seat across from Peter's. "Semantics."

Peter shook his head, brow furrowing in irritation. "That comeback doesn't even make sense Neal."

Choosing to ignore Peter's comment Neal pointed at the box, which was a little larger than a shoebox and emblazoned with red letters. "Aren't you going to see what June got you?"

Peter stared down at the box for a moment and frowned. Although June was known for her generosity, both with Neal, the office, and the Burke family this was not what he would have expected.

"Elf on a Shelf," he read the letters carefully, eyeing a picture of a little elf in a red costume sitting on what looked like a bedroom shelf. "And?" he asked looking perplexed. "June is giving me this why?"

"It's for Ender," Neal clarified. "June got them for all of her grandkids this year so she got one for him as well."

Gingerly, as if the box might explode, Peter picked it up and then shook it. "Why is she giving Ender an elf?"

Neal looked affronted. "This is not just any elf Peter. This elf is special. He sits on the shelf, and watches kids, and then reports back to Santa on their behaviour."

"Seriously," Peter stared at the box then opened the flip lid to see there was indeed a little felt elf, packed behind plastic, with big blue eyes and an eerie smile.

"I've been doing some research and apparently there is entire Christmas lore built entirely around Mr. Elf." Neal said nodding enthusiastically. "Not only does the elf report back to Santa nightly, but he also bakes cookies and cakes, and other treats for the kids as well as deliver presents early if kids are exceptionally good."

"And by the elf you mean me and El," Peter clarified. He poked at the plastic a bit right around the Elf's rosy cheek. The Elf just grinned back at him, with his frozen smile.

"Where's your Christmas Spirit?" Neal pouted.

"It fell into my trash bin, with all the pens you caused me to knock over."

Neal clearly didn't seem to care that Peter was less than enthused. "I thought you could call him Legolas," he quickly added, as he pointed a finger in the Elf's general direction.

"Are you serious?" Peter scowled.

"What?" Neal shrugged. "He needs a name. You can't just call him Elf." The look on his face said Peter clearly didn't understand these details. "Besides, you need to name him for when you register him online."

Peter who was just taking a sip of his coffee, managed not to spit it back out across the room. "Excuse me…but register the elf. Why? In case he gets lost and can't find his way back to our house from the North Pole."

Neal gave Peter a patronizing look. "When you register him you get an adoption certificate and personalized letter from Santa." At Peter's face he added. "I've been researching this online. Apparently over 30,000 elves are named Buddy, although Oodle is also a big hit with 220 Elves having that name. But I still think Legolas works well."

"You're seriously going with Lord of the Rings?" Peter questioned.

"What? Legolas is badass with his bow and double swords. And the new movie was awesome."

Peter stared at him. "You mean the movie that's not scheduled to be released until December 17th."

Neal didn't look even remotely abashed, "Well I met this really cute production assistant…"

Peter has learned a long time ago Neal could out argue anyone, and the best way to win a conversation with Neal was to cut him off at the pass, so he interrupted before Neal admitted to some sort of felony he would be left dealing with. "It's a nice idea so thank June for me, but Ender doesn't even believe in Santa Claus. He's certainly not going to believe some plastic elf flies to the North Pole every night to send Santa secret reports.

At that Neal suddenly brightened. "Ah, but this elf is a 21st century elf. He has his own digital camera to record all that he witnesses and the footage is sent back to Santa via satellite."

For a moment Peter stared down at the elf, then back up at Neal. "You had Mozzie install a camera, didn't you?"

"This way, you'll be able to monitor everything that happens at home, even while you're away." Neal had a gleam in his eye, one like he usually got right before he was planning a job.

Peter, sensing an ulterior motive, closed the lid and pushed the box away to the edge of the desk. "And as I said before, Ender doesn't believe in Santa, no matter how technological advanced his help is."

Neal pushed his chair away, looking stung. "I am not taking it back to June. If you want to return it, you can give it to her, and be the one to hurt her feelings."

"Fine," Peter relented. "But I get the transmitter. You are not using this to spy on us, when I won't let you come over."

With a very satisfied grin Neal hopped to his feet and turned to go. "It's in the box," he called over his shoulder as he headed back down the stairs and to his desk.

Peter stared at the box then reached for it again. He opened the lid and stared at the elf. It reminded him of the creepy doll El's parents had given her foor her birthday, although that thing had looked utterly depressed while this thing has a sickly sweet smile plastered on its face.

Closing the lid Peter shoved the thing under his desk and returned to his work.