AN: My apologies, I fell asleep and woke up at midnight when I remembered I needed to write something...


"Five minutes was funny, but ten, ten minutes, Peter, was just plain cruel."

"Be thankful I got you down at all."

Neal and Peter were casually arguing during their lunch break in Peter's office. Neal still hadn't forgiven him for the whole Christmas lights incident yesterday. Finally, Peter simply rolled his eyes and looked around for a new topic.

"Oh yeah, I forgot to open the advent calender for the days over the weekend," Peter said quickly reaching to find the prize inside.

Neal protested. "You have to open a box on its specific day. You don't get a prize since you're opening them two days later."

Peter rolled his eyes and tore the calender open anyways to find. . . nothing.

"Told you so," the ex-con mocked. In a way, Peter was almost happy they were empty. Some of the gifts so far hadn't exactly been 'merry.' But he still had that days box left to open, which he quickly did.

Out came a small, black box about two cubic inches big. The FBI agent stared at his partner for an explanation, in which came a "Oh, that's a good one."

"What exactly is that suppose to mean?"

"Well," Neal explained, "what's inside is very fragile and there's a special way to open the box. If you do it wrong what's inside will break."

Peter rolled his eyes. "I suppose the answer is a little more thought-provoking than finding a missing key." Neal nodded in response. "And I suppose you'll give me a clue, right?" Another nod.

"Well, I'd start at the Modern Museum of Art."

"You'd start there regardless." Neal grinned cheekily and turned to depart, leaving Peter staring at the small, black box in confusion and wonder.

TBC...