A/N: Hey! So this is a little short one-shot that I suppose could be counted as a sort of prequel to the actual White Collar/Heist Society story that I have been planning. My life is just so hectic (and not completely in a good way) so I do not want to start another long fanfiction like my current one without most of it written so my readers won't have to wait a long time. Enough babbling, please read, review, don't flame (It's already hot out). This is dedicated to Unformal Sorrelle for her WC/HS crossover that inspired me to write my own.
The conversation had been going perfectly fine, in Neal's opinion. He and Robert Bishop had not even stolen their coffee or doughnut.
When the suave gentleman last looked at his friend's daughter, Katarina- whom he had affectionately termed Kitten from her nick name Kat, she had been happily munching away on some frosting covered, sugar filled, and cavity inducing doughnut. Bobby let her have it, so Neal refused to be responsible if Nadia found out. The young girl's face was smudged with sprinkles and frosting, but at least she managed to keep it out of her hair which was pulled back into a small braid at the back of her head. It was nicely crafted. Her mother had obviously done it.
Spending time with Bobby and his family was something that made Neal actually feel like he was part of a family. It was more than just him and Ellen; he had a brother in Bobby. A sister in his wife, Nadia. A niece in his daughter, Katarina.
The daughter that was currently giggling madly from beneath his fedora.
It slipped down over her small head, covering her eyes. The inner side of the brim rested on the tip of her nose. Her little hands gripped the sides of the hat, tiny fingers keeping the hat securely on her head.
Neal looked at her, then the spot on the table where his hat had been resting. A smile began creeping up onto his face.
"What are you doing with my hat, Kitten?" Neal asked, sharing a grin with his friend, who was chuckling at his daughter's antics.
"Wearing it," she told him, pushing it up so he could see her blue eyes. They glinted mischievously, silently promising trouble with her matching grin. "I look better in it," she proclaimed, spreading her arms out in a "ta-da!" gesture.
"Is that so?" Neal questioned, attempting to look like he was actually bothered by that statement while fighting his laughter down. He wanted to take a picture of her so badly. Sometimes, Katarina Bishop was just too cute, even for a criminal like him. Neal turned to his very amused, yet not the slightest sympathetic friend. "Aren't you going to do something, Bobby? I'll have to tell your wife," Neal added, feigning disappointment.
The thief shrugged, sipping more of his coffee. "Well, now," he said. "I can't exactly tell her stealing is wrong. Besides, you won't tell Nadia anything."
"Start them that young, huh?" Neal retorted. "What makes you think that I won't tell her?"
"I blame Eddy," Bobby replied. "You won't tell her because then you get to explain to Nadia why her daughter was allowed to have that doughnut, Uncle Neal."
Neal snorted. "Don't confuse your parenting skills with my spoiling ones, Father. I will not be the one to blame when you have to take care of a hyper child."
Bobby ignored him, turning to study his daughter. Katarina was currently wrestling with the hat, struggling to keep it above her ears. "She does look good in it, maybe you could get some pointers on how to wear it."
Neal put a hand over his heart. "You wound me so. I'll have you know that I look fabulous in that hat."
Bobby laughed, shifting the cup in his hands. "Look at it this way," he told the forger. "She is saving you from having hat hair."
The conman looked offended. "I do not get hat hair! Name one time I ever had even one strand out of place!"
"Agora Gallery, New York City."
"That was not hat hair. It was helmet hair. No, not even that! I don't get hat or helmet hair! It was that stupid apple tree sculpture and the neon paint that messed my appearance up, and I still looked good."
Bobby made a noncommittal sound, though he looked thoroughly amused, waving Neal's hair problems off. "Sure, you did. The poor mirror however? Yeah, it didn't agree as much." He quickly turned to his daughter before Neal could retort. "Kat, you almost ready to go?"
During their conversation, Kat had successfully propped the hat up on her ears, bending them out at an awkward angle, but the child did not look the slightest bit uncomfortable.
She nodded quickly, dislodging her precariously placed prize from her ears. It slid down her head to rest on the tip of her nose again. She started giggling uncontrollably. The two criminals smiled at her, then each other. In one fell swoop, Bobby Bishop, with the grace and expertise of a parent, grabbed a napkin and the top of the fedora.
The fedora sailed over to the conman. The napkin swept over Katarina's face. Neal smiled, catching his hat easily. He placed the hat back on his head in its usual place, gathered the cups and plate, and threw them away. He met the two Bishop family members at the café's entrance.
Kat sat contently in her father's arms, face and hands newly cleaned. Her arms were wrapped securely around Bobby's neck. It was a perfect image for a painting. This was it. His family.
Neal smiled again. He seemed to always be doing that around the Bishop family.
Kat reached out to give him a hug from her father's arms. "Bye, Uncle Neal."
"Goodbye, Kitten," he returned softly to her, dropping a kiss on her forehead. Deciding to go with his impulse, Neal plucked the hat off his head and placed it on the little thief's head. She gave a little squeal in surprise, but looked up at him with one of the largest, beaming smiles he had ever seen. Maybe having his hat stolen wasn't that bad, seeing as this little girl had already stolen his heart.