Disclaimer: White Collar belongs to USA Network and Jeff Eastin. : Criminal Minds is the property of CBS, the actors, producers, and writers of the show.

Claimer: Damon is mine

Warning: Minor cussing; discipline of a child. No sex, no slash (like Damon would say, 'Ewwww!')

This is a continuance of the story DAMON. Please read DAMON first, or you will not understand the story line.

DAMON II (1)

Damon stood on the rooftop looking across what he could see of the city. Spring was coming, the cold was breaking, and the piles of snow were slowly losing ground as their melt-off flowed into the city's gutters. He was 13 years old now, but except for a small unofficial celebration, it went unnoticed. The Burkes told him he would get a proper party when he officially turned 13 with his WC WITSEC (White Collar Witness Security, or Witness Protection Program) identification. He didn't care if he was still officially 12, which meant he could still get in the Met or Avery Fisher Hall or various other places where 12 and under is free.

If he leaned out just a little, he could see the area in Central Park were the parkour enthusiasts practiced. He had run across them last fall and watched them training with amazement. He found out parkour, or free running, was a discipline to teach participants how to move through their environment by vaulting, rolling, running, climbing and jumping. His supple, lithe build mixed with his agility, and love to run and climb made him an instant enthusiast. And his Caffrey charm and smile soon found him willing instructors to help him learn. Some of the more hard core enthusiasts trained through the winter, but Damon was more than willing to wait for warmer weather to go back. He wasn't totally out of shape; he had spent enough time in the 'dungeon' to maintain his young muscles.

He thought back over the last six months…

***WC***

Mrs. Burke's first book assignment had been Mark Twain's 'The Adventures of Tom Sawyer'. When she handed him the book he had protested… "That's a kid's book!"

"Damon, you are a child, and this is a book about a young man about your age and his adventures. I think you will like it and it is your assignment." She left no room for argument.

A couple hours later he told her that he had read the book, she looked surprised, "Already?"

He froze, irritated with himself, she was looking at him funny, like he was different; he could not stand being looked like he was different… "Ah, I read the first chapter Ma'am." He did not lie to her; he did read the first chapter… He remembered after that to take an appropriate amount of time to read her books.

"Well, how do you like it so far?"

"It's Ok, I guess." He did not like it, he thought Stephen would have, Stephen would have thought it was great! But he had been on his own adventures, and they are not all they were cracked up to be, sometimes they are pretty lousy. He wondered why his mother had never let him read fiction when he had gotten older, then the answer dawned on him, she forgot to tell him it was okay, and Stephen, who would never dream of questioning his mother's orders, had never asked.

When he had turned in his book report, he did some quick comment on why a con should never exceed his abilities, followed by a discussion of Samuel Clemens and what life was like in the 1870's on the Mississippi River. Mrs. Burke had not been pleased; she informed him that a book report was supposed to be about the book, not the author or the times. But it was his first book report ever, and she cut him some slack. He tried harder after that, he just wished she'd get away from the kid's books! She was finally assigning him teen books and it was a little better.

Not like he wasn't reading adult fiction. When she had first given him clearance to read fiction, he had gorged himself on it. He'd gotten what you might call a belly ache in the head, like he'd eaten all desserts and no solid food. He went back to his meat and potatoes, non-fiction, and saved the fiction for dessert, or an occasional treat.

And the math. He found out he liked it, the books were still boring, but he loved working equations and formulas. Agent Burke had been quite patient with him when he first started, helping him work through those first obstacles, the worst one being his own head thinking he didn't like it. But once he got the hang of it… One thing Damon didn't realize was that Peter had seen his reaction when he told El he had read the book, and after that Peter made sure he never showed any surprise in Damon's accomplishments in math. He praised him, yes, but he never acted like Damon was doing anything any normal child his age could do. Another thing Damon did not know; he was well into high school math and Peter was very impressed by his accomplishments.

One of Damon's biggest problems in working the formulas was his brain worked faster than his hands could write them down. He had a tendency to miss parts of the formula. His final answer was correct, but the formula was wrong. When Agent Burke would call him on this he'd get defensive, "What difference does it make, I got the right answer!"

Finally Agent Burke had to explain:

"Damon, these formulas must be written right so you can show your train of thought beginning to end so that anyone reading it can understand how you got your answer. Life is the same. Plans are like formulas. Say I had a criminal I wanted to apprehend. If I went to Agent Hughes and said I need this amount of personnel and this equipment and I will catch the thief. His first question will be 'How?' I have to sit and write a plan, a formula, placing each person and each piece of equipment into the formula so that the end result is the capture of the criminal. And all personnel involved must know exactly what their place is, and what their purpose is in the formula. If I do not make every one understand exactly what my train of thought is, I might not achieve my goal. These formulas you are writing are easy compared to a mission plan; you need to develop a habit now of writing down every step of your thought process and it will help serve you well in other aspects of your life."

Damon did try harder after that, he tried slowing his brain down so his hands could keep up, but sometimes his brain acted like a separate entity.

***WC***

Agent Burke wasn't there every night for his home schooling. Agent Burke had an important job, and sometimes he worked evenings, or even all night.

He remembered the first time Agent Burke had to leave for an all-night surveillance, Damon had freaked out. He had begged him not to leave Mrs. Burke unprotected, she needed someone there with a gun to protect her if the killers came for him. He embarrassingly remembered that he had been out of control, and Agent Burke had had to send for another agent to come sit with them before he would calm down. But he hadn't trusted the agent, he wasn't Agent Burke, and he had sat up all night watching out the window just in case the killers came so he could protect Mrs. Burke. He didn't go to bed until he saw Agent Burke's car pull up to the curb out front.

But he had learned to trust the watch, he caressed it gently, trust the alarm system, and most of all trust Agent Burke to be able to protect him and Mrs. Burke whether he was home or away.

He chuckled when he remembered when Agent Burke had gone undercover as an accountant. Neal had been there while Agent Burke was getting ready to play the role. Damon had been laughing at the idea of him being an accountant when Neal spoke up, "Aw come on Damon! I think he looks debonair!"

Damon had lost it then; he guessed he laughed so hard that Agent Burke jokingly threated 'dungeon' time if he didn't quit. He had lost complete control at that, laughing so hard his stomach started hurting. Didn't they see, Agent Burke was not a nerd accountant, or debonair, he was Agent Burke! In Damon's child's mind he was Special Agent Peter Burke, Superhero, Protector of the Innocent… his protector.

***WC***

He had done his time in the 'dungeon', mostly for little stuff. Like the time he was sitting at the dining room table and realized he had skipped a section on his formula; again… 'Shit!' had slipped out of his mouth before he even realized he had opened it. He had looked up at Agent Burke and sure enough he was looking straight at him, not saying a word. Damon knew the deal; he'd been through it enough times…

"How long this time, Sir?"

"Well, two hours only lasted you about a week, let's try four hours this time."

He'd shut his book and went to the 'dungeon'.

***WC***

Yea, he'd gotten the 'dungeon' for being late, or not answering his phone when Agent Burke called. He thought about that time he'd really messed up by not answering the phone. He had wondered into a seedier area of the city, not the ghettos, far from that, but not up to the Burke's standards. He had run into some kids throwing dice and when he had stopped and watched, they had invited him to join. What the heck, he wanted to try his hand at shooting craps, he had some money left over from lunch, and he had fun. He'd set his backpack to the side, forgetting he'd left his phone in it, and with all the noise the group was making, he'd never heard it ring. It was his turn up, he tossed the dice, and just as he saw he'd rolled a seven, he'd been jerked to his feet by his jacket collar. Agent Burke had been fuming! He didn't even let him collect his winnings, he'd just grabbed the backpack and drug him to the car and threw both inside. When they got home he had been sent to his room, at least Agent Burke didn't follow him up that time. He wasn't as angry as he had been about the school deal, but he was still pretty pissed.

Yes, Peter had been angry. When he had checked Damon's GPS he had seen the area of the city Damon had wandered into, and when he didn't answer the phone… Peter had rushed to find him, expecting the worst, almost in a state of panic, and then to find him perfectly safe and rolling dice…

Agent Burke had ended up giving him a lecture about not answering his phone; Damon thought that's what really got him the most, and the gambling, being in a poor part of town and hanging with those kids hadn't helped. Heck, Agent Burke was always on him about making friends his age, and when he finally found some he could tolerate; he got chewed out for it! He got several days in the dungeon for that one. Damon never wandered back that way again, he didn't want to run into those guys, not after the way he'd been embarrassed right there in front of them.

No, Agent Burke didn't want him making friends with kids like them; he wanted him to make friends with kids like… well, like the Burke clan.

He thought about the Thanksgiving trip to upstate New York to visit the Burke family. That did not go well.

***WC***

##### To my Damon fans, sorry it took so long to post this; I had to work out some kinks. Comments are appreciated! Thank you! #####