AN: So tired, it's basically midnight here in the EST (Eastern Standard Time). Meh. Try not to be too critical, it's late and it's been a long day. Enjoy. Ah, by the way at the end it was suppose to be a heart, but the site wouldn't except it so I was stuck with the other emoticon. Deal with it.


Sneaking through the FBI building in the dead of night probably wasn't the smartest idea Neal ever had, but there are some things in life you just have to do. For an ex-convict gone FBI that includes sneaking around your partner's office to re-experience the thrill of a heist.

It just so happened that this particular night Peter had decided to rearrange the entire layout of his room, including adding two bleach-white chairs. Of course, Neal was unaware of these changes and proceded to, in the dark, trip over the leg of one of the chairs and fall. Hands flailing in a desperate attempt to catch himself, Neal managed to snag something off the desk. It was the old picture frame. Sadly, though, this was not enough to stop his moment and he fell to the floor, his right palm crushing the glass protecting the photo of Peter and himself. Bits and pieces of the frame dug into his hand, cutting his skin, and causing blood to pour out onto the picture and into the carpet.

Neal silently cussed under his breathe as he gently eased himself into one of the new chairs. Carefully, he began to pick glass shards out of his bloody palm. It didn't take him long to run into the problem of finding a place to put the pieces. Desperate and in much pain, Neal stuck the shards in the first place he could think of. Cleaning up as best he could, the con man made his way swiftly out the door away from the scene of crime.

---THE NEXT MORNING---

"Neal!"

Neal stuck his head into the Peter's office where the other man was standing, an angry expression on his face. Neal tried to keep an upbeat expression, but it was hard when he was forced to look straight at the mess he had made last night. Damn, he can really bleed.

"What'd you need, Peter?"

Peter gave him a no-nonsense death-stare, saying nothing.

"I swear I can explain."

Peter continued to glare.

"Say, did you even open the box for today?"

"Don't change the topic."

Neal inwardly smiled, the conversation shifting into his favor. Slowly, but still, shifting.

"At least take a look."

Peter rolled his eyes and finally broke, turning to open the third box on Neal's version of an advent calender. He carefully pulled the tab off and pulled out the contents inside...

Bloody glass shards. Neal had given him bloody glass shards. Peter had to admit, this was definitely the most interesting idea his partner has ever had. Peter turned back around to protest the strange gift, but found Neal had already fled the premises.

Much to his surprise, though, Peter found Neal's trademark hat left lying on the floor. Intrigued, he picked it in hopes it might answer some of the questions swarming in his head. Not surprisingly there was more blood under the hat. Peter had to give the man credit, he could make one hell of a mess. Under closer examination, he found that there was almost a certain shape to this particular stain. He squinted hard, determined to make out the symbols that would forever scar his lush new carpet.

^-^
NC...