Babysitting Duty

It was unexpected. He planned that because it would allow him to see the kind of man Peter Burke claimed to be.

Helena whined and fussed. She didn't like this at all. Bruce would never understand why his children thought themselves above having a responsible adult watching over them.

"Bruce Wayne?" Peter questioned when he opened the door. His gaze slid down to the dark haired girl standing at his side with a pouty face.

"Ah, yes. Do try not to say it out loud, I'm undercover you see?" He pointed to his sunglasses, playing up the act of 'stupid air-headed billionaire'. "Think you could do a favour for me, Mr. Burke? This is my daughter Helena. Now, Selina and I were invited to this lovely little luncheon, but our hosts don't want any children there boring up the place."

Helena huffed in disagreement. Bruce ignored the slightly angry look which crossed Peter's face. Apparently, he agreed with Bruce about how children should be treated.

It was a good start.

"We don't know many people here in good old NY city but I thought that maybe you and your wife might like to babysit my daughter."

"El isn't here right now."

"Well, I'm sure you're more than enough. She doesn't cause trouble, my little Helena. Thanks!" With a kiss to his daughter's forehead, he left her there.

Or so it appeared. He got in his car but grabbed a coat and hat, slipping right through to the other side. The driver drove off in one direction while he walked in the other, keeping his attention on his daughter and the agent.

Peter seemed panicked. He looked at Helena and asked her a few questions, to which she responded patiently before walking into the house in an annoyed huff.

Last Bruce saw of Peter before he closed the door was him calling a number. He started down the street since he really did have somewhere to be.

Not a Childminder

Neal was a bright man but even he had trouble processing this. Peter had called and asked him to come over, promising no answers until Neal got there.

"I'm sorry, Bruce Wayne did what?"

Peter was panicked.

"He just appeared on my doorstep and left his daughter here! What am I supposed to do with her Neal? I haven't the faintest clue how to deal with her!"

Neal glanced over at Helena, who was sitting at the Burke's dining room table, eating a sandwich.

"It's not deviled ham, is it?" he questioned, crinkling his nose. Although, it would serve Bruce right if his daughter learnt to like the disgusting smelling meat.

"No. It's cheese." Peter glared at him. "Is that all you're concerned about?"

"Yes. Look, I don't think Bruce Wayne would have left his daughter with you if he didn't trust you and your wife. Or he's up to something." Neal shrugged. "The guy's got a lot of kids, so I don't think he'd willingly put his daughter in any kind of harm's way." That was a partial lie. For a moment, Neal thought Peter had caught him out on that.

"What am I supposed to do with her, Neal? We're opening the case into the fraudulent invitations so I can't take a day off work to babysit a child I don't know."

"Her name's Helena. What more do you need to know?" Neal questioned without expecting an answer. He went on to suggest, "why not just bring her to the office?"

Helena's head popped up.

"Yeah!" she said, getting up and walking over. "I want to see the FBI! Can I? Can I?"

Peter only lasted a few seconds before completely caving.

"Okay."

Bats in the Bullpen

Neal took over as Helena's guide. She whispered the question of why Peter called him 'Neal' while they drove to the office. Neal was surprised that Helena could recognise him. Or someone told her who he had been.

"I'm undercover, shush," he responded with a smile and a wink. Helena giggled.

Neal told her all about the FBI as they walked in.

"And they need all the help they can get," he commented.

"How much help do you need then, if we caught you twice?" Peter countered.

Helena laughed and Neal flustered for her entertainment. He held her hand as the elevator took them up and showed her his desk as they arrived.

"Who's the kid?" Jones asked.

"I'm Helena!" she introduced herself with a smile.

"Good ears," Jones commented, pulling Peter away to ask why there was a child in the FBI.

Neal gave Helena a piece of paper and some of his pens to draw with. She frowned.

"When do we get to catch bad guys?" she asked.

"Not today," Neal responded firmly. He didn't need his little sister running into a fight and possibly getting killed while he couldn't protect her.

Helena frowned but took a seat offered to her by another agent and started drawing.

"She looks like you," Diana commented. "Something you're not telling us, Caffrey?"

Neal shook his head with a wide grin.

"Nope. She was left in Peter's care for the day," he explained.

Little Angel?

Neal knew that Helena could hear any conversation within the halls of the FBI she wanted. She was small enough and sneaky enough to move around without notice, plus she had good hearing. The only thing which counted against her was that she didn't have the appearance of an agent. Most people noticed when she walked into the room because a child was out of place in the FBI.

On the other hand, Neal had also heard a number of conversations about how cute she was and what an angel she was. Neal would concede that however, he had also met her brothers.

He was one of her brothers.

They were far from angels.

"Where's my pen?" one of the agents commented. He was turning his desk upside down. Moving papers, lifting organisers and the keyboard and pulling drawers out in search of his pen.

"Just grab a spare," Diana huffed at the display.

He agent glared at her and then threw his hands in the air.

"I don't have any spares! All my pens! Gone!"

"You didn't do this, did you?" Jones asked Neal. Neal shook his head and shrugged to indicate that he had no idea who did. A lie. He might have had a little idea.

A little while later, they were interrupted by another agent, the first agent's partner, who walked out into the middle of the bullpen and called out;

"Has anyone seen the Savidge report?"

A chorus of 'no', 'nope' and 'haven't seen it,' rang out.

It wasn't the first time something like this happened as clerks tended to forget to let people know when they moved things.

However, the file turned up in the bathroom. It was certainly not the usual place for a file to be.

It continued for most of the day.

"Hey, Smith, why are your glasses on my seat?"

"Diana, missing something?"

"Where's my USB? I had the handwriting analysis on there!"

"Anyone seen my pants?"

That last one was Blake. He was unfortunate enough to have coffee spilled on his pants, which went missing once he changed into a spare pair.

A Crow

Peter caught the culprit. Helena had cleared off part of the file shelf, having found a dusty section which no one seemed to use. He noticed her over there and checked later on to find the missing stuff.

He also found Neal's wallet. Neal turned completely red when Peter waved that around. Helena had to have taken it earlier in the day but he hadn't even noticed!

It wasn't like he used it for much. Not that he could tell Peter that.

"Don't tell Mozzie," he said quietly as he reclaimed it. "He'll be mad that I… let my pocket be picked."

"Let, huh?" Peter smirked, knowing that Neal didn't let it happen because he didn't realise.

Neal glanced over at Helena, who was sitting on a chair with her arms crossed.

"What happens to her?"

"Prison for three to four years. Hopefully she's better at staying put," Peter joked. Neal gave him a horrified look. "It's a joke, Neal. I'll talk to her and her dad."

"Have you tried asking why she did it? Maybe she was bored?" Neal suggested.

"I can hear you," Helena pointed out. Her tone was grumpy and annoyed. "And the agents are mean."

Peter and Neal shared a look. That was a new one. Most kids loved the agents. Kids thought they were cool.

"'Mean'?"

"They say mean things about Neal. I like Neal."

"Oh great," Peter sighed. "You're dragging a child down the criminal path."

Neal glared at Peter. This was not his fault. If anything, he was going to blame Jason for this criminal streak.