A/N: Just a fun little snippet I thought up based on a poster I saw the other day. The writing style of this story and facts about characters will probably seem a bit out of cannon, and off from how I usually write, but I think it will make sense in the end. For all the Crosshairs fans please don't worry. I am working on the next chapter and hope to have it posted soon. I've had to rewrite it a couple times based on where I want the story to go. I truly appreciate your patience.


When You Can't Blame It On The Dog

They were running late and Peter hated running late. El always said he stressed himself out too much about these sorts of things, but he couldn't help it. FBI agents weren't supposed to be late. Well, technically no one was actually late. They were supposed to leave early because Peter was dropping El off at work before he took Ender to school and then Peter had a meeting with Hughes, he had only just found out about last night.

Hughes hadn't been that specific, something about departmentary budget cuts and a whole bunch of other stuff that was really boring, and most people shouldn't be bothered with. So while they weren't leaving early it wasn't late, so Peter really shouldn't be so stressed.

Peter also had to pick up Neal, because it was Thursday, and he tried to pick Neal up at least twice a week if only to keep the man from complaining too much about Peter's lack of caring. And since Neal didn't have a car or a legal driver's license for that matter, even though he had five illegal ones, Peter tried to be sympathetic. At least about the lack of transportation. Not that is sympathy ever extended to allowing Neal to drive because frankly Neal wasn't that sympathetic, as Peter was fond of saying.

Dropping El off was easy enough, but he had to wait in traffic getting to Neal's. Peter had an extreme dislike of New York City traffic. It was a stop and go, bumper to bumper mess that had him cursing under his breath (as silently as possible because Ender was still in the back seat). An eternity later they arrived outside June's mansion and Peter grew increasingly annoyed when Neal wasn't waiting outside on the front stoop the way he should be when Peter was running late.

Peter yanked out his phone and fired off a few angry texts and when Neal still didn't come running out, the agent called Neal's phone and spouted off some more angry words, before sending Ender up to tell Neal to get downstairs immediately, or else he would be even madder.

Ender obligingly jumped out and ran inside, because he always did his best to listen and follow directions. He only paused for half a breath to say hello to June, since manners are everything, before dashing up the steps to the third floor.

"Neal," he shouted bursting onto the balcony. "Daddy said," Ender stopped short, upon seeing Neal sitting at the balcony table with June's oldest granddaughter, Cindy. The art student. When Neal glanced up Ender continued. "Daddy said he's going to throw him back in jail if you don't get your butt downstairs and in the car immediately, except he didn't say butt…"

Ender paused for a moment and whispered conspiratorially to Cindy. "I'm not allowed to use the word he used and I'm pretty sure Daddy's not supposed to say it either because Mummy gives him a dirty look every time he says it."

Then he continued in a normal tone. "So are you coming, because when I left the car the vein in Daddy's forehead was bulging and everything, and I don't think it's a good thing so we really should be going."

Peter's mood had not improved by the time Neal and Ender got in. The agent had just fielded another call from the office telling him a lead came in on a case and he needed to speak with a bank manager on Fourth Street before his budget meeting.

Being too lazy to look for a parking space, Peter stopped in front of the bank, stuck his FBI placard in the windshield, and got out, slamming the door behind him. Ender wanted to go in as well and see if he could snag a free lollypop from one of the tellers, and may some money while he was at it because free money was awesome. Neal didn't really want to listen to Peter talk with the bank manager, but one of the assistant managers was cute and flirting was always fun, not too mention it completely annoyed Peter.

They were just finishing up when the day finally became interesting, or completely ruined by two bank robbers walking in, wearing all black, their outfits complete with the stocking masks to obscure their features.

"Everyone get on the ground or we'll start shooting," one of them screamed waving his AR-15 semi automatic rifle about.

The other grabbed the nearest teller and shoved his SIG into her head. "Open the safe! Open the safe!" He began dragging her backwards the gun still pressed against her temple.

The woman looked absolutely terrified, begging them not to shoot her. The robber with the SIG shoved her into the safe and kept screaming at her to open it and give them the money, while AR-15 began to empty the registers into his black duffle.

Peter shoved both Ender and Neal down behind the nearest desk, telling them to stay put while he tried to stop the bad guys from killing everyone. Chivalrous yes, but not the smartest move on the agent's part, because when had the Neal ever listen to anything he said and stayed out of trouble.

Neal, recognising that SIG was going to shoot the teller when she couldn't work out the combination to the safe stepped up to heroically offer his assistance.

"You know, I could open that for you, there's no need to shoot anyone." He volunteered with his usual charm.

SIG whirled around his gun hand flailing. "Stay where you are or I start shooting."

Neal casually held up his hands. "There's no need for violence, you want the money, I want to get out of here without any extra holes, I think we can help each other."

There was a brief pause while SIG regarded him. "Fine," he snapped, "but you mess up and I'm shooting both of you."

"You know," Neal continued conversationally as he stepped up to the safe and began to work, "you seemed to have planned this out pretty well, I mean, you have the guns for intimidation and the masks so no one recognises your faces, but I was just wondering what your exit strategy was?"

SIG looked confused. "What do you mean?"

"Well, you've already been here for about five minute, and the average response time of the NYPD is about ten minutes and it's going to take me at least three minutes to get this safe open. So that leaves only two to make your escape. Not too mention you and your friend are a bit conspicuous."

"We have a car outside." SIG snarled.

"Hmmm," Neal continued. "Not by any chance that green sedan across the street. I hate to tell you this but Parking Enforcement is currently booting your car. Next time don't park in a handicapped zone without the proper placard."

SIG glanced outside, and his lip curled.

A minute later Neal stepped back and the safe swung open.

Suddenly distracted by all the beautiful money SIG shoved his duffle at Neal, demanding he fill it up with money.

Neal obliged and handed the bag back a minute later. His mission complete SIG shoved the teller to the floor and turned.

"Frank, I got the money but we have a problem."

AR-15, AKA Frank looked up from trying to zip his bag. "Don't use my name you idiot, have you got no sense. How would you like it if I screamed 'Jimmy' for everyone to hear?"

"Then why did you just do it just now?" Jimmy snapped.

"Because you did it first," Frank yelled back.

SIG or Jimmy's lip curled. "Just shut up already, we got bigger problems, we lost our car."

"What?" Frank glanced outside. "What are we going to do now? We're supposed to get in and out, we didn't plan for a hostage situation." His finger twitched over the trigger of his gun, and Peter began to ease himself into position to identify himself when suddenly movement caused him to hesitate.

"If I may," Neal stepped forward. "You can use my vehicle. It's the black Taurus just out front there." He carefully held up a set of keys.

Both robbers stared at him mouth's agape, while off to the side Peter's hands slapped at his pockets before he turned an incredulous glare at Neal who offered a little wink. Peter mouthed the words 'I'm going to kill you' before miming a finger across his throat to which Neal just shrugged.

"What's the catch?" Frank asked.

"No catch." Neal held out the keys. "You want to get out of here, and I don't want to die. Besides the car is insured."

Another moment's pause and Jimmy snatched the keys from Neal's fingertips, both robbers back out of the bank waving there guns about menacingly.

"What the hell Neal?" Peter shouted as he jumped to his feet.

"I was thinking they had bigger guns than you, and I didn't think anyone here wanted to be shot." Neal responded a bit indignantly.

A second later the screech of tires could be heard as the Taurus flew out into New York traffic, barely missing a taxi as it began to weave and bob around other vehicles.

All heads watched as the car skidded around a turn and disappeared from site.

"You're an idiot." Ender wailed as he watched the car vanish. "Now I'm going to be late for school."


There were days when Peter absolutely loved his job. There was nothing better than showing up to work to arrest bad guys. Then there were days like this. Days when you were left explaining to your boss how your CI gave your car to two criminals to help them get away with stolen money in a robbery you didn't prevent. Or the even greater crime of not getting your son to school on time.

He supposed the only good thing about his car being stolen was that he could give the proper information to the police for a BOLO.

Diana and Jones were never going to let him live this one down.

It was too long before a call came in saying the police were in pursuit of the car. Even more fortunately the chase had made the morning news, so the entire White Collar office was able to watch Peter's Taurus flying down the New York City streets, followed by five black and whites in hot pursuit, as a news chopper followed the scene.

All eyes were on the television watching as the car made a sharp right and turned into the New York City docks, workers scattering as the Taurus careened through their work area. The entire office watched as a moment later the car skidded out of control and flew into harbour.

The helicopter seemed to have stopped overhead, camera's zooming in on two figures now bobbing at the surface as Jimmy and Frank evacuated the car. Everyone turned to stare at their boss, as Peter let out a bit of a squeak, eyes clued to the screen, as he watched his beloved car slowly sink below the surface.

"My Taurus." Peter stammered.

"My backpack." Ender added.


"So you see Mrs. Phelps," Ender concluded, his arms fold, and his little face earnest. "That's why I don't have my homework."

The teacher just stared at him.

"But on the bright side," Ender continued. "The bad guys were caught, and our car is insured, only I asked the insurance agent and he said our policy doesn't cover homework replacement. So do you think maybe I could have an extra day to redo it?"


A/N: I hope the OOC writing makes sense now. Ender might not be the most reliable story teller, but at least he's entertaining. And only Ender would not have his homework because he lost it during a bank robber. So let me know what you think. Readers seem to like the humorous stories the best so that's what I was going for.