A/N: Another random one-shot that popped in my head! R&R!
Neal Caffrey, con man extraordinaire had an excellent poker face. In his line of work, well- previous line of work, it was a necessity. He had looked the smartest criminal minds straight in the eye and lied to them. Confidently. His cool, suave exterior had found further use when he had started working with the FBI on a work-release program. The same, cool, suave facade that had deserted him when he needed it the most.
But, God! This was probably the worst cup cake he had ever had in his life. And he had been forced to ingest Mozzie's bizarre cooking. Actually, right now Moz's culinary skills seemed as if they belonged to the winner of Masterchef Australia, Neal mused as he tried to mask the grimace forming on his face in reaction to the disgusting concoction, tried being the main part.
"So, do you like it?" Peter's enthusiastic voice interrupted his thoughts, somehow-luckily- missing the face his CI was making.
"Its, uh, wow. I can honestly say that I've never had anything like them. And I do mean never." Neal bestowed Peter with his brightest, fakest smile.
Peter's face lit up with happiness and Neal felt like face palming himself. Great. Now Peter actually thought that he could bake. Crap. He was already regretting the multiple cooking disasters he might be forced to be witness.
"See, honey? I told you Neal was the best for this job. This is the exact reason why I borrow his palette. Nobody knows food better than Neal Caffery." El came down the stairs and wrapped her arms around her husband who was currently glowing from- what he heard as -praise.
Neal shot her a dirty look as she smirked, glad that she had convinced Peter to use his CI as a taste tester.
"Well, it was great seeing you guys but I gotta go." Neal hurriedly got up and started moving towards the door, trying to avoid having to eat any more awful cupcakes.
"Bye Neal!" Peter cheerfully waved to his consultant.
"Don't forget these!" El said, shoving a box full of those horrid things in his arms.
If looks could kill, Elizabeth Burke would be dead and buried.
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