Well, this was supposed to be an addition to "Partners of Paradox," but, as mentioned several times before, it's nearly impossible for me to write something short. So, I've given it its own fic.

I depended a lot on Google for info during the creation of this fic. I'll mention what info I got where in case you want to learn what I did or check out what some of the objects in this fic look like.

And, I'll mention now that, after reading this fic, you'll have trouble looking at two types of the birds the same way again.

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Lunch with the Birds

Chapter 1:

It was a perfect day for lunch at the park.

Peter Burke leaned back against the park bench with a sigh of content, his elbows propped up on the bench's back.

He gazed at the expansive Bethesda Fountain of Central Park. The sun glistened in the water streaming down from the head of the fountain and made the cascading droplets sparkle like diamonds. The diamonds plunged into a shimmering sea of silver as the water dropped from the tiers of the fountain to finally land in the pond at the bottom.

It was hot enough that children danced along the border of the basin of the fountain, sticking hands and feet into the cool water when their parents weren't looking while others threw wishing coins and small rocks in attempts to sink the decorative flowers blooming in the water.

The elaborate Angel of Waters atop the fountain watched the child playing below her with a solemn gaze as pigeons alighted upon her wings to rest or saturated their thirst at her feet.

Peter turned his gaze upward to the blue sky. Here, he was protected from the sun: a tree standing behind the bench casting her short animated shadow over him, keeping him cool while in the heat. The sun speckled him in light from where it peeked through the shadows of her extended branches and swaying leaves.

Then he looked to his right to see his partner sitting languidly beside him, hands clasped loosely in his lap as, he too, stared out at the proceedings of the families who had also decided to take a late lunch in the park.

Neal Caffrey sensed he was being watched and turned his head to meet Peter's gaze.

"Hungry?" the agent asked and thumped a hand against the lid of a small cooler between them.

"Staved," the ex-con CI grinned back.

Peter chuckled and opened the cooler. He pulled out a paper bag for himself and then handed another to Neal. "Here. El made you one too."

Neal's eyes brightened as he took the bag from Peter and opened it, gazing curiously into the depths of his packed lunch. Peter opened his own bag and smiled at the familiar sight of a deviled ham sandwich packaged neatly in a plastic bag. He took the sandwich and unwrapped it eagerly.

"Deviled ham, again?" Neal asked with vaguely masked disgust.

"If it ain't broke, don't fix it," Peter countered and took a big bite. "What you'd get?" he asked, considerately covering his mouth.

Neal smiled excitedly and pulled two small Tupperware bowls out of his bag. He opened the first one and inhaled deeply, releasing his breath with a murmur of pleasure. He lifted a small mound of golden delicacy from the bowl.

"Truffled mac-n-cheese bites," he enthused and took a careful bite, chewing slowly. Finding the food to have no repelling flavor, he popped the rest into his mouth.

Peter had gone still, staring in disbelief at the three remaining morsels in the bowl. He could see the yellow macaroni peeking out from the tanned exterior of bread crumbs. He leaned to the side slightly, trying to smell the same goodness that Neal had but Neal blocked his attempt by reaching his fingers into the bowl for another piece.

Peter looked at his own sandwich which paled in comparison to the catering Neal received from El's improving craftsmanship. The bread suddenly seemed too soggy and the ham limp. Neal smacked his lips in delight and Peter looked back at him, eyes wide and pleading. But the food was gone and Neal was opening the second bowl.

"What's that?" Peter asked in a small voice, lowering his forgotten sandwich.

"El believes in a balanced meal," Neal explained simply. "So, here're my vegetables." He picked up a piece of cucumber that had had its original green interior replaced with an array of colorful vegetables. "Persian cucumber Greek salad cups."

Neal placed the whole piece into his mouth and bit down with a crispy crunch that proved just how fresh the ingredients were. When the first piece had been swallowed, he picked up another and Peter barely had time enough to gawk at the sight of the onions, peppers, and tomatoes before it disappeared into Neal's mouth.

"Cilantro," Neal mused aloud, "nice touch."

Disheartened, Peter looked down at his own lunch in dismay. Yeah, he had vegetables too: a bag of carrots and celery sticks.

"Oh wow," Neal sighed, patting his belly in satisfaction. "El sure has improved in her caterer skills. These were fantastic, though the mac-n-cheese was a little over-cooked. But, I digress."

"So what do you have for a fruit?" Peter asked darkly. "Gotta keep the meal balanced and all. What did she make you? Some sort of fancy tart?"

"No," Neal answered cautiously and with a shade of confusion wrinkling his brow. "An apple." He held out a simple red apple for Peter to see.

Peter looked away with a grumble.

"What's wrong?" Neal asked. "You look a little sore. Losing your taste for deviled ham?"

Peter ignored the ring of hope in Neal's voice. "Nothing's wrong," he replied curtly. "And no." To prove his point, he took a fierce bite out of his sandwich and felt slight satisfaction at the look of dismay on Neal's face.

"So," Neal started, voice light in hopes of easing the tension Peter was displaying. "What did you get?"

"Oh, same as you," Peter answered with unmasked sarcasm. "An apple."

Neal blinked with realization and looked guiltily at his empty bowls. El had clearly established who she believed had the better taste between the two partners. And she had packed Neal a lunch in accordance to his tastes. Well, that and he was her official food tester. Albeit, she had done the same for Peter, she only portrayed just what his tastes were.

Granted, she had taken the time to make Peter's lunch consisting of his favorite sandwich, and he was sure she packed everything with the love for him she exhibited every day. But still, why was Neal the only one to get special treatment?

Peter realized he was sulking, and about something trivial. And worse, he had made Neal feel bad about the lunch he had been given: a lunch he had no control of and had no intention of mocking Peter with.

Peter gazed dejectedly into his bag at his apple and veggies. Then he noticed a bulge beneath his apple. Curious, he fished past it and plucked one last component from his lunch bag.

Fresh chocolate chip brownies.

El certainly did believe in a balanced meal. That included dessert as well.

"Hey, she gave us brownies," Peter announced, his previous mood gone. He looked to Neal with a smile that conveyed some of the apology he was feeling for ruining his partner's lunch with his own trivial jealousy.

But Neal's guilty expression only increased as his eyes widened to take on the impression of a deer caught in the headlights.

"Oh," Peter said in understanding. "She gave me brownies."

Neal looked away quickly and slowly took one last bowl from his bag. Inside were small bite-sized cookies of crumbling golden brown with pieces of chocolate chips and caramelized pecans contrasting darkly against the rest of the cookie.

"What's that?" Peter asked in a voice that said he really didn't want to know the answer.

"Oh nothing," Neal answered with a wave of his hand, "Just SouthernPecan-ChocolateBreadPudding-BitesWith-BourbonCrèmeAnglaise," he continued hurriedly in a lowered voice.

"Oh," was the only thing Peter could say. Neal looked up at him questioningly, as if seeking Peter's approval to eat the cookies El made him. "That's nice," Peter finished. He didn't need to ruin Neal's dessert too. This was Neal's lunch and he had no right to dislike him for it.

Neal looked down at his cookies and then at Peter's brownies.

"Wanna trade?"

Peter looked up at Neal in surprise. The younger man was holding out his bowl of cookies to Peter with an encouraging smile. Peter smiled back. He appreciated Neal's desire to cheer him up. It was nice of him. And somewhat typical at this point in their friendship.

"We can share," Peter said graciously and placed the brownies between them. Neal smiled back in agreement and moved his whatever-they-were-called's next to the cookies.

"You going to finish that?" Neal asked with a mouthful of brownie, pointing to Peter's rejected sandwich that had been returned to the lunch bag.

"Naw," Peter answered, testing one of El's cookies but subtly placing it aside unfinished. It was too sweet for his taste. "Not really hungry anymore."

Neal nodded thoughtfully as he took a bite out of El's cookies, munching merrily; then looked out over the park. His gaze stopped on something and his eyes lit up with a childish sparkle.

"Can we feed it to the birds?" he asked pleadingly.

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Not the best ending/cliffhanger for this chapter but I had to interject somewhere.

So, the things mentioned in this fic that I researched:

The Bethesda Fountain in Central Park: this majestic fountain was first shown to us in the second episode of the first season, "Threads," the place where Peter traded the dress for the girl with a bomb in her belt. Wikipedia can tell you about this fountain and Google Images can show you some pretty fantastic photos that focus on how elaborate this beautiful fountain is, especially the Angel of Waters, the angel on top.

The food El made and Neal ate: I found these delectable dishes by searching for "catering in New York" in Google to find high class foods to fit the standards of taste set by Neal. I came upon the Flatiron Kitchen catering company in New York. On their website, you can look under the "photos" tab to see all the food they provide. The three things Neal eats in this chapter can be found in these photos if you want to see what they look like.

To be continued…

Hobey-Ho