Author's Note:I planned to get this update written much earlier but then Sweden was given the hottest summer in over 200 years and my brain practically melted.
That being said any mistakes made is the weather's fault :)

Also I was accepted into a writing course at the university and it's thanks to my fanfiction writing, and all the motivating words from readers, that I had the motivation to apply to it so I just want to say a big thank you for giving me confidence in my writing :)

Author's Note 2: I have to admit that I completely forgot that why I brought Mozzie into the mix in the last chapter so I had to improvise and wrote the first idea that popped up in my mind.
Hopefully you will like it anyways :)

CHAPTER 18

Peter lowered his gun when he recognized the man and realized that there was no threat.
Mozzie looked past Peter and his face lit up as he spotted Elizabeth sitting on the bed.

"Elizabeth, you're back!"

He said and Elizabeth got up from the bed and enveloped the man in a big hug.
Peter realized that he hadn't even thought about telling Mozzie that Elizabeth had been saved, not that he would have actually had a way to contact the man if he had remembered.

"What are you doing here, Mozzie?"

Elizabeth asked and Peter noticed a change in the man, it was subtle but it was there.
He suddenly seemed a little more tense and a little more nervous.
Maybe it was just Mozzie's paranoid nature or perhaps it was Peter simply being too used being around criminals.

"I just came by to pick something up."

He answered and Peter didn't miss the way he nervously glanced at the agent.
Peter got a bad feeling in his stomach while Mozzie retrieved a big, black sport bag from under the bed.
The agent gave Elizabeth a questioning look and she shrugged.

"I let him store stuff here sometimes."

She said and Peter calmed down a bit.
It was apparently a normal occurrence so he had no real reason to be suspicious of Mozzie.
The man was probably just nervous because whatever was in that bag was probably related to whatever shady business the man had going on.

"Mind if I take a look in the bag?"

Peter asked, only half joking.
Mozzie turned to him and looked him dead in the eye.
"Get a warrant, suit."

Peter didn't even know how he had ended up inviting Mozzie back to his house, one second, they were all saying goodbye to Mozzie and the next Elizabeth had suggested that Mozzie came over for dinner.
Peter had been skeptical to the idea and he wasn't sure if it had been Elizabeth's puppy eyes, Neal jumping up and down while saying please a million times or a combination of them both that had finally caused him to cave.
Mozzie even ended up riding in the car with them even if he looked like a caged animal the whole ride.
As they arrived at the townhouse, Neal immediately grabbed Mozzie's hand and dragged him along for a tour since the man had only seen the kitchen and living room at his previous visit.
The sport bag was left by the door and even if Peter felt the urge to open it and look inside, a pointed look from Elizabeth made him leave it alone and respect the man's privacy.
While Neal showed Mozzie around with Satchmo eagerly following them, Peter and Elizabeth walked into the kitchen to start dinner.
Peter let Elizabeth take control and helped with things that he couldn't screw up, such as peeling the potatoes, cutting the vegetables and setting the table.
While he was setting the table he heard Neal loudly whisper to Mozzie.

"Sometimes mommy kisses Peter and it's gross."
"Hey!"

Peter called out and looked at the kid with a faked stern look but the boy just started to giggle.
The agent was amazed by how the child had managed to go from the angry kid who just took the dog and left to the kid who was loudly giggling, looking like he had never been happier.
Soon Elizabeth announced that dinner was served and while walking the short distance between the couch and the kitchen table, Neal announced that he wanted to sit next to Mozzie probably fifty times.
Then once seated at the table the six-year-old started to loudly protest when he wasn't allowed to have wine just like the three adults had.
Mozzie actually looked open to the idea to give the kid wine while Elizabeth, of course, wasn't.
Peter started to massage his temples as the child just got louder and louder, getting closer to a full-on tantrum for every second that passed.
Elizabeth finally managed to defuse the situation by giving the boy some strawberry lemonade in a wine glass.
The red liquid looked almost identical to the red wine they were drinking and that seemed to be good enough for Neal.
Peter realized that the boy had never cared about the wine in the beginning, he had just wanted to copy Mozzie.
There was an obvious admiration in Neal's eyes when he looked up at Mozzie and Peter thought back to when Elizabeth had talked about Mozzie not being a father figure to Neal but a big brother figure.
Neal looked up to Mozzie and copied him in a way that younger siblings used to do, which scared Peter a little bit since he didn't want to see Elizabeth's son grow up to be the same kind of shady character as Mozzie was.

After dinner they decided to play a game, mostly because Neal had flashed his puppy eyes, while eating some ice cream for dessert.
Peter didn't really have any board games suitable for younger children so eventually they decided to play Trivial Pursuit where Neal and Mozzie was a team since it didn't seem fair for a six-year-old to be on his own against three adults.
He had expected that the boy would be mostly rolling the dice and reading some questions but he was surprised by how many questions Neal could actually answer, even if most of them was in the culture category.

"Which artist is credited with developing linear perspective?"

Peter asked, certain that the duo wouldn't know the answer but he was yet again surprised by the child.

"Brunelleschi."

Neal answered with a smug smile, his pronunciation sounded a little off but since he was only six Peter had to ignore that.

"Correct."

He muttered and Neal turned to Mozzie and gave him a high five.
Peter turned to Elizabeth who shrugged her shoulders, just like she had at every question Neal had answered.

"I don't know where he has picked that stuff up."
"Are you sure they're not cheating?"
Elizabeth just laughed at him before turning her attention to the duo who continued their seemingly never-ending streak.

The duo ended up winning and as they were cheering over their victory, Peter crossed his arms while quietly wondering how he could've ended up in third place.
"Looks like someone is a sore loser."

Elizabeth said teasingly and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek which caused all irritation to just disappear into thin air.

"Time for bed, sweetie."

She told Neal as she started to put the pieces and cards back into the box.

"Mommy noooo."

Neal protested and Elizabeth glared at her son and Neal glared back.
It all turned into a staring contest that none of the others dared to get involved in.
It felt like the two stared at each other for an eternity, Neal had clearly inherited Elizabeth's stubbornness, but finally Neal realized that he couldn't win and adverted his eyes.

"Can you read a story for me, Moz?"

He asked his friend and the man agreed and they went upstairs while Elizabeth went to clean up in the kitchen before she would join the pair upstairs.
Peter walked to the front door, planning on taking Satchmo for a walk but stopped dead in his tracks when he spotted the big sport bag.
Elizabeth was busy in the kitchen, Mozzie was upstairs with Neal, his bad feeling had returned and his fingers were itching to open it.
He should have respected Mozzie's privacy, he knew that, but he just couldn't stop himself from sneaking closer to the bag and quietly opening it.
Inside it was a small white, cardboard tube, the kind you would use to store a rolled-up poster in.
Why would Mozzie have a backpack with nothing but a tube in it?
He should let it go but he couldn't so he grabbed the tube and opened it and just like he suspected there was something in the tube.
Peter took it but instead of finding a rolled-up poster, he found a rolled-up painting.
With shaky hands he unrolled it and his heart sank into his stomach as he recognized the painting.
It was a stolen painting but not just any stolen painting.
It was one of the paintings that had been stolen by none other than Scarface himself.