A/N: I've had this chapter partially written but finally got around to finishing it. Crosshairs is quite dark so every once in a while I try to post on this one with a little humour. People seemed to like the baseball chapter so I thought I would write another one involving some good old father son bonding with Peter Neal and Ender. I don't know a lot about fishing, but based this on watching several different people attempt it. Not my favourite chapter but I hope you enjoy.
Said the Spider to the Fly
It was a father/son tradition. At least it was in Peter's household. He'd gone every year with his dad since he was big enough to hold the pole. And now he was passing that tradition on to the next generation.
Ender being so small, Peter didn't think the kid was ready to learn how to fly fish, but a basic rod and reel on the shore was a viable option. And while Neal didn't seem too enthusiasm about touching "slimy, gill bearing, aquatic organisms", he agreed to the trip since it was outside of his radius, and as Peter pointed out, beggars can't be choosers.
Peter was delighted to discover that Ender actually seemed excited when he suggested the outing. Neal was decidedly less so, but put on a saccharine smile when he arrived at the Burkes early Saturday morning. El politely declined joining "the boys", stating her need to plan for an upcoming wedding to gracefully bow out. Peter privately thought she didn't want to hear Neal complain about touching fish slime, or clean their catch.
The two and a half hour drive to Glenmere Lake was pleasant. Neal and Peter discussed cases and Ender read his way through the third Harry Potter book. They'd been at the bookshop a few weeks ago when the colourful covers caught Ender's eye.
Peter was shocked to discover Ender had never read the series, but leisurely reading hadn't seemed high on his foster mom's list of priorities. Feeling a bit guilty for Ender's poor previous childhood, the agent brought the entire series on the spot and Ender read the books whenever he could ever since.
They arrived around midmorning, and Peter purchased permits for him and Neal, and some live bait from the local gaming and fishing centre.
They were able to pull into a parking lot close to the shore and without waiting for the car to come to a complete stop, Ender raced off towards the lake with a whistle to Cafall, and Neal on his heels, leaving Peter to carry down most of the gear.
Grumbling good-naturedly Peter dropped the last of their equipment and smiled as he watched Ender chase his puppy up and down the shoreline. Neal was skipping stones across the water, and doing his best to ignore anything else, probably in an attempt to get out of any sort of work.
"Ender," Peter called, motioning the kid back. Ender stopped, looking ready to argue then seemed to reconsider and came bouncing back, Cafall right behind him.
"I want a fish this big Daddy," Ender held his arms out as wide as possible.
Peter shook his head. "I don't know if they grow that big in this lake, but we'll see."
Neal ambled back over just as Peter was showing Ender how to tie the hook, sinker and bobber at the proper location along the line.
"…so the sinker helps pull the hook and bait down towards the bottom, but the bobber keeps it from going down to far. And when the bobber gets pulled under you know you have a bite." Peter explained tying the hook on with a Berkley knot.
"And I get my fish," Ender bounced up and down.
"And you get your fish." Peter smiled and glanced up at Neal who rolled his eyes.
"Don't worry, I'll help you next," the agent said in a condescending tone.
Neal held his hands up nails out. "Manicure. Fish slime might ruin it."
Now it was Peter's turn to roll his eyes. "Seriously, a manicure that's your excuse. And you call yourself a conman."
Neal looked affronted. "It was a favour to June's niece Samantha. And my cuticles look great. You should try it sometime."
"Did she make you wear a pretty princess crown too because if so I hope June took a picture?"
"Just because you have embarrassing photos of you with that god-awful moustache does not mean the rest of us would ever allow ourselves to be seen in such an unflattering light."
"I notice you didn't deny really it." Peter commented to which Neal put on a classic Caffrey pout.
"Daddy my fish," Ender cut back in.
Peter turned his attention back to the kid, "Right all you need is some bait and you are good to go."
The agent reached for the plastic container of worms nestled within some dirt and held it out. "Just put one of those little guys on your hook and I'll help you cast off."
Neal wrinkled his nose in distaste but Ender obediently took a worm out. The kid never seemed bothered by touching bugs and insects.
Peter grabbed the next rod preparing to show Neal how to set his line up, but after several dramatic huffs from the conman Peter had had enough. "If you don't want to fish fine, but know this, come Monday I will stick you with a box of cold mortgage fraud cases, and you won't get to join the team again until you solve each and every one of them.
"Fine," Neal sighed. "But I want a new hook. Not your used ones with dried worm guts or fish slime on it, or I'm not touching anything."
"You are such a princess." Peter shook his head but selected a shiny clean hook from the tackle box and handed it to Neal for inspection.
After careful study Neal deemed it okay and Peter was preparing to help him tie it when he heard Ender's distraught voice. "Daddy my worm won't stay on."
Peter looked over to see Ender holding his hook in one hand and a wriggling worm in the other.
"See." Ender attempted to wrap the worm carefully around the hook but upon letting go the worm promptly dropped to the ground.
"You have to put the hook through the worm," Peter held out his hands. "Like this."
Ender's eyes went as wide as saucers as he saw what the agent was about to do. "Worm murderer!" he screamed at the top of his lungs, causing half the people on the shore to look in their direction.
Peter paused mid stab. "Ender the fish is supposed to eat the worm, it's going to die anyways."
The kid looked if possible, more horrified. "But…but…you can't do that." He stamped a tiny foot. "When I agreed to this trip you didn't say anything about murdering worms. They help the environment. And you want to kill them?"
Peter held the worm up. "It's not murder. It's part of the life cycle."
Ender crossed his arms. "If I have to kill worms, I don't want to do this. Take me home." He concluded dramatically.
The agent opened and closed his fist a few times in a visual attempt to calm himself down then relented. "Fine, I'll put Mr. Worm back in the container with all his little worm friends. See…oh look at that," Peter pointed to the worm as it slithered back into the dirt. "He's okay."
Ender watched for a second, with a rather suspicious expression, then nodded his head in approval.
"Here, you can use some artificial bait. It won't feel a thing, I promise." He held out what looked like a tiny silver minnow.
Ender carefully took it, inspecting the thing for movement then stabbed it with his hook
"Oh my god, I just saw it twitch," Neal exclaimed jumping back and causing Ender to drop the hook with a cry. Neal smirked.
Peter gave him a death glare. "Mortgage Fraud," he mouthed at the other man then picked up Ender's pole and led the kid closer to the water.
Neal just looked smug, probably thinking it was well worth his prank.
Peter promptly ignored him showing Ender how to cast, then reeled the line back in and let the kid try. The hook didn't quite make it as far on Ender's attempt, but it was still far enough out there that he could probably get a bite from a small fish.
"When you feel a tug on the line, begin reeling him in." The agent instructed, and then turned back to Neal who was still grinning at him.
"You keep this up and I will be sure to have June email that picture of you in the princess crown to every last person in the building." Peter told him, partially wiping the smirk off Neal's face.
Not wanted to hear any more smart-aleck remarks, Peter quickly finished tying of the hook off and shoved the pole in Neal's hands. "I promised El fish for dinner, so if you don't catch something, it's coming out of your allowance to buy some at the supermarket."
Neal looked like he wanted to argue but then grabbed a lure and stalked off. "Just because I prefer a life of Starbucks and taxi's does not mean I am completely helpless. I'll have you know I once survived overnight in the woods, without any supplies."
"Hiding from the cops or spying on a girl?" Peter called to his retreating back. When Neal refused to answer Peter just laughed and set up his own line before heading to the shore and casting off. Plopping down in his collapsible chair with a beer, he stretched his legs out and watched the almost hypnotic bobbing of the float, in the water.
This brought back some great memories of him and his dad. He'd started out learning how to use a basic rod on the shore like this, then gradually moved on to a boat, before learning the art of fly fishing. The two of them had spent many long hours together sitting side by side, sometimes discussing sports and their favourite teams, and sometimes just enjoying the peace and quiet.
To his left Neal had managed to tangle up his line and was quietly cursing to himself as he tried to undo the knots. Peter was almost tempted to help him out, but it was nice to see Neal struggle at something once in a while. It built character. Casting a sidewise glance to ensure Neal wasn't going to impale himself with the hook, Peter left him to sort the problem out on his own.
On the right Ender was staring at the water with nervous anticipation, his hands almost shaking with excitement. "I'm catching a fish, I'm catching a fish," he kept repeating to himself, as if visualizing it would make the event happen. Cafall sat at his feet chewing on a stick about three times the puppy's size.
Finally Ender turned to Peter. "It's not working." He looked rather upset.
"It takes time." Peter responded, bobbing his own rod a bit to stir the hook slightly. He wasn't about to mention to Ender he had a real worm currently speared on his own hook, but he wasn't partial to imitation bait.
"But I've been waiting for hours." The kid whined.
Peter just gave him a look. "It's been ten minute."
"What if I don't get one?"
Peter shrugged. "Sometimes that happens. Fishing isn't just about catching fish you know."
Ender scrunched up his face into a disbelieving look. "Then what's it about? It's called fishing."
"Relaxing. Spending time together."
The kid stared at his pole for a moment then back at Peter. "I don't feel very relaxed."
"Neither do I," Neal huffed having finally untangled himself, although the fishing line, now lay strewn across the bank. "I fail to see how anyone could ever find this relaxing."
"Oh and standing for hours in-front of paint splattered on canvas that some artist says is their naked ex, when they really just threw it everywhere in a moment of rage, is?" Peter responded.
"Museums have air-conditioning and hot docent's to show you around. They're a part of civilised society, instead of this barbaric activity." Neal pointed out.
Peter was getting ready to respond when Ender suddenly squealed in delight and started jumping up and down. "I got a fish, I got one. Look."
Both men looked out over the glistening water and the line was indeed being jerked to and fro as the fish fought with everything it had to avoid being reeled back in.
"Good job kiddo." Peter jumped to his feet and grabbed the pole, helping Ender keep it steady so the kid could work the reel.
"Just bring him in nice and slowly so he doesn't get free."
Off to the side Neal looked sulky, but Peter ignored him to help Ender bring the fish in.
When it was finally pulled from the water, the bass wasn't that large. Maybe eight inches at most, but Ender was beaming. Peter held out the line so Ender could grasp it himself. The fish gave a couple of experimental flops, and then ceased all movement as if playing dead would protect it from harm.
"I got a fish." Ender repeated, looking as happy has Peter had ever seen him.
"You did," Peter told him and reached back for the line. "Let's get him unhooked and we can put him in the bucket."
Ender stared at the fish with big eyes. "But won't he get lonely," he asked with some trepidation. "I thought we were going to put him back."
"That's why we're catching him some friends." Came the matter-o-fact response.
"And besides, he won't be lonely for long, because in a little while Peter is going to bash him over the head with a rock." Neal chimed in.
Ender's eyes jerked to Peter's face. "What?"
"Oh yeah, your little friend there is going to be dinner." The conman continued. "I can't believe he didn't tell you."
At that pronouncement Ender squealed and threw the fish back into the water, hook and all. As soon as it hit the water the fish took off swimming again, the rod being dragged out towards the murky lake water.
"Swim for your life fishy," Ender shouted after it, and Peter just managed to react fast enough and save the rod before it was pulled into the lake.
"Noooo, I set him free." Ender tried to take the pole back.
Peter was exasperated beyond belief. "I'm taking him off the hook, then we'll toss him back."
"I don't want him eaten." Ender cried.
"Do you want him swimming around with a hook and pole attached to him?" Ender shook his head, looking morose and Peter managed to pull the fish in for a second time, get him off the hook and put it back in the water, where it swam off for a second time, eager to be away from all the drama.
"Don't bite any more suspicious looking bugs," Ender called after it, then turned and walked away his puppy chasing after him.
Neal just shook his head. "After Tom, you seriously thought fishing was a good idea? And you say I don't learn from my mistakes."