So... it's been a while. I promise I'm not abandoning this story. I just haven't exactly had the motivation to write lately. But hey, I finally got this chapter done!
So, enjoy!
Chapter 9
Neal stood back and admired the wall in his bedroom. It was finally done. The Skyline was completed. It took of the whole wall and was done in all blacks and grays save for the yellow glow of the small windows.
He meticulously cleaned all of his brushes, glancing at the wall occasionally with a proud smile. He had thrown himself into the painting since being given a curfew a few days ago. It had been his outlet for the frustration. His smile faltered. Now he didn't have anything to work on. It wouldn't be easy to avoid them now.
To Neal, it seemed as if the grays of the mural completely overtook the yellow. He was feeling trapped and both he and Moz were supposed to start school soon. Basically he'd be trapped in another locked building all day.
Glancing at the clock, Neal was surprised to see it was well after midnight. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. He decided to just go to bed; maybe it would look better in the morning.
Neal rolled over, yawning. His eyes opened to slits, glaring at the sunlight. He groaned into his pillow, knowing he should get up but not wanting to. He sat up, running a hand down his tired face, already regretting not getting enough sleep. He snagged the sweatshirt lying on the ground and made his way downstairs.
Stretched out on the couch was Peter, idling flipping through Sunday morning shows. He glanced up when Neal hit the last stair. "Morning kiddo."
"Morning," Neal replied, sitting on the armchair.
The silence between them lingered for a few minutes. Finally, Neal asked, "Where are Moz and Elizabeth?"
Peter sat up, stretching his back. "El had some wedding planning thing and Mozzie went along to help her."
"'Wedding planning thing'?" Neal asked.
"Yeah one of her clients called earlier and was having a meltdown about table clothes. So El had to go calm her down. Mozzie was curious about her job so he went with her."
Neal nodded. Mozzie probably wasn't curious about Elizabeth's job, more likely he was just giving Neal and Peter time to talk.
"You hungry?" Peter asked. "There's some left over pizza in the fridge."
"Pizza for breakfast?" Neal joked.
"I won't tell El if you won't," Peter said.
Neal smiled, shaking his head a little and followed Peter into the kitchen. He watched as Peter pulled out the white box and set it on the counter.
"So I was thinking," Peter began, "since Mozzie went with El to her job, you might be interested in coming to mine today."
Neal almost choked on the cold pizza. "You mean go to the FBI?"
Peter nodded. "I need to catch up on some paperwork and I thought maybe you'd like to get a rundown of what an FBI agent does."
Neal sat there thinking. To be honest he didn't want to go to the FBI but how could he say no? Mozzie would be on his case later for refusing. "Yeah sure," he finally said.
Peter smiled. "Good. I'm sure you'll find it interesting." He laughed. "Maybe you'll even help me solve a few cases."
Peter watched as Neal rolled the baseball in his hands. He sat in front of Peter's desk curled up in the chair. Peter had given him the ball when he got tired of Neal touching everything on his desk. He could tell Neal was bored. He'd thought the teen would have like to see the FBI building but the kid kept shooting nervous glances everywhere.
He sighed, dropping the case folder on the desk. When he did, the pictures that had been loosely paper-clipped inside flew out. Peter cursed quietly in aggravation.
Neal set the ball down and bent down to pick the pictures up. As he stood, Peter watched him pale.
Peter shot up. "Neal, buddy, you okay?" he asked worriedly.
Neal nodded shakily, setting the photo on the desk. "Ah, yeah. I just got a little light headed there for a second."
"You sure?"
Neal sat back in his chair. "I'm fine. I don't think the pizza filled me up."
Peter still watched him, noticing the minute shaking in his hand. "Alright. Well, let me finish this up and we can go get something to eat."
"Yeah, sounds good," Neal said, going back to the baseball.
Peter turned his attention back to the file, still keeping an eye on the teen. He gathered the photos and put the pictures of forged Degas' back in their rightful places. It was one of their newer white collar cases they were looking into. Peter closed the folder and put it back into his locked desk drawer. He ruffled Neal's hair as the left the office. "Let's go home buddy."
"Neal calm down," Mozzie stated from his spot on his bed.
"How can I calm down, Moz? Peter is investigating the Degas I did."
"Which one?" Mozzie asked.
"Blue Dancers. Why does it matter?" Neal huffed.
"That was the last one you did. Right?" Neal nodded. "As long as you don't do any more for a little while- what?" Mozzie stopped when Neal's expression grew sheepish.
"Keller approached me the other day," Neal said.
"Dammit Neal! We just got here and you're already trying to-"
"I didn't agree to anything, Moz!"
"That's not the point Neal! Look, if we talk to El and Peter-"
"No, I can handle this myself."
"Neal," Mozzie began but Neal was already out the bedroom door.
Keller grunted as his back hit the wall. "You told me those paintings would be perfect Keller. Unrecognizable from the originals."
"They were," Keller argued.
"Obviously not since the FBI now has them."
"I don't know how they found out."
"Well you better figure it out, otherwise I'm out millions. Because your forger couldn't get a painting right."
"I'll get you the new pieces okay?"
"You better Keller."
Damn you Neal Caffery.