Knocking on the door, Peter Burke waited patiently for his consultant to answer. He had been looking into a case and thought he might have finally found something worthwhile. He had tried to call the con, but had only managed to reach his answering machine. Just as he was getting ready to knock again, the agent heard the door being unlocked and a voice came through the wood.

"It's about time! Do you know how long I-" Mozzie stopped short, realizing that the man in front of him was not who he had expected. "Oh. Hello, suit."

"Moz." Peter nodded. "Neal not here?"

"No, and I've been waiting for half an hour! He's usual back by now…" The bald man trailed off, a hint of concern in his voice.

Peter frowned. "Hm. May I come in?"

"I suppose." Mozzie moved aside, allowing Burke to step into the apartment. Sitting at the kitchen table, the two sat in awkward silence.

"So… how's your day been?" The question sounded ridiculous, but Peter honestly had no idea what else to say.

"Er, alright. Um, the weather's been pretty nice lately."

"Yeah, it has."

After a few minutes of painful small talk, the front door finally opened again. Both men visibly sagged with relief.

Peter smiled. "Neal, I've never been so happy to-" stopping short, the FBI agent raised an eyebrow. The ex-con closed the door with one hand, the other curled protectively around a scrawny black cat. Next to Peter, Moz shot out of his chair, backing away from his friend and the feline.

"No! No! Not again, Neal! You promised me you wouldn't do this again!"

Neal rolled his eyes. "Hello to you, too. And last I checked, we don't live together anymore, Mozzie." Smiling, he scratched the cat under the chin. "I named her Midnight."

Looking between the two criminals and the animal, Peter Burke found himself utterly confused. "Uh, Neal? Why do you have a cat?"

Walking into the kitchen, Neal answered, "I found her in an alley a few blocks down." Reaching into one of the cabinets, he pulled out a small silver bowl and placed it and the cat on the ground. Opening a different drawer, he pulled out a bag of cat food, pouring some into the bowl which the cat eagerly began devouring. "Aw, she was starving!"

Peter chuckled and shook his head before returning his attention to the bald man who was currently backed against the opposite wall.

"Neal… why do you have cat food?" Moz asked with a shaking voice.

Raising an eyebrow, Neal turned to him. "For Paris of course."

"Paris?"

As if on cue, a soft meow sounded and a large calico cat made its way out from under Neal's bed.

"Gah!" Moz jumped back, trying to get away from the second creature.

Laughing out loud, Peter sat back down. Giving the second cat a scratch between the ears, he turned back to his partner. "Neal, what's with the cats?"

Before Neal could speak, Moz answered for him. "He always does this! Every time he sees an animal on the streets he just has to drag it home!"

"Oh?" Peter raised an eyebrow.

Mozzie nodded vigorously. "Yes. I remember the first time he brought some creature in…"

Moz leaned back in his chair and sighed, enjoying the rare quiet that had settled upon the small apartment he was currently occupying. Hearing the door unlock and open, he paid no mind, assuming it was simply his protégé and friend. However, the click-clack of claws on the wood floor alerted him to another presence. Opening his eyes, he saw Neal first. The now-nineteen-year-old had changed, his hair shorter and better kempt, his clothes in better condition, and he was not as deathly thin as he had been when the two first met.

Glancing down, he saw that the boy had led into the apartment a small brown puppy. Or at least, it looked brown with all the dirt and mud caked on it. Leaping from his chair, Moz immediately demanded, "Neal! What is that?"

"It's a puppy." The kid answered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

The older man glared. "What is it doing here?"

"I found him. Someone just left him out on the street. Isn't that sad?"

"Yes, yes, it's very sad. It's also riddled with disease!"

Neal rolled his eyes. "Oh please, it's fine!"

"Neal, get it out of here."

Moz tried to resist as Neal pulled out his saddest, most heart-broken eyes to pull at his heartstrings. "You want me to put him back on the street? When it's so cold out and he hasn't even eaten in who knows how long?"

Not even the most hardened man in the world could fight the effect of those blue eyes. Moz crumbled. "Fine. He can stay one night. In your room! And tomorrow it goes to a shelter!"

The smile on the kid was blinding. "Thanks Moz!"

As he ran into his room with the puppy, Moz called after him, "But this is the only time!"

But of course, it wasn't. A few weeks later, he brought an elderly black lab. After that, a beagle. Then it was a pidgin with a broken wing. It seemed like every few days they had a new animal spending the night in Neal's room, and each time it got harder and harder for Moz to get him to take them to the shelter the next day.

The final straw came one cool February evening, when Neal walked in with a large cardboard box with 'FREE' written on the side in black sharpie. Moz looked at him suspiciously. "Neal… what is that?"

A chorus of meows answered him. Neal immediately set the box down and turned on his most distraught look. "Some, some person," he spat out like an insult, "just left an entire litter of kittens out on the sidewalk. They didn't even stay to make sure someone took them all. What if some hawk had come and eaten them!"

"A hawk? In New York?"

"It could happen!"

Just as Moz was about to rebut that remark, a loud 'thump!' interrupted them. Glancing down, they saw that the six kittens had managed to knock the box over, thus freeing themselves. No longer trapped, the animals immediately bolted, scampering towards every corner of the apartment.

"NEAL!" Moz screamed before comically jumped up onto a kitchen chair.

"Come on, Moz, they're harmless!"

"Oh, did the government tell you that?"

"Come on, I can catch them all faster if you help."

Reluctantly, Moz climbed down from his perch. As Neal began picking up a few of the kittens, the small man ran into the bathroom, returning a moment later with a large towel. He carefully approached one of the animals, using the towel to keep from directly touching it.

"You know I'm going to have to disinfect the whole apartment now. These things are probably crawling with germs and now they've gone and touched things…" Moz continues grumbling as he carried the creature at arms length. However, in his anxiety, he unintentionally gripped it too tight, causing it to hiss and struggle. Twisting in the man's grip, the kitten lashed out, scratching him on his left forearm. Crying out, he immediately dropped the cat, which ran into a corner.

"Oh God, oh God…" Moz gripped his arm as if he was bleeding to death.

Rushing to his friend, Neal tried to pry his arm away. "Let me see." Looking at the wound, the teen nearly laughed. "Moz, it's just a little scratch, it's barely bleeding!"

Moz looked at him incredulously. "Um, have you ever heard of cat-scratch fever? I now have it."

"Oh please, you're fine."

"You'll be eating those words at my funeral, just wait..."

Peter tried to stifle his chuckles. "So… did you die?"

Glaring, Mozzie crossed his arms. "No. But I could have! And after that day I made Neal swear to never bring another animal into the house again!" He said, with a pointed look at his friend.

Sitting on the couch with one cat on his lap and another next to him on the armrest, Neal rolled his eyes. "Mozzie, we don't live together anymore! I didn't think it still applied."

"Of course it still applies! Do you know how much time I spend here? I was here for forty-five minutes today before you got here, and now I learn I've been sharing air with that?" He pointed accusingly at 'Paris'. "I am going to go home, shower, and burn my clothes. Good day."

And with that, Moz was gone. The two remaining men chuckled in his absence. Peter stood and moved to sit next to his partner, taking in the two animals, which were purring contently.

"Well this is something I never knew." Neal raised an eyebrow in question, and Peter explained, "In the three years I was chasing you. I never knew you were such an animal lover."

Neal smirked. "What, the FBI never noticed the decreased number of strays in the areas where I stayed?" They both laughed. "I've always loved animals. And I can never find the heart to leave a stray. Guess I can relate or something." The last part was mumbled, but Peter heard and filed it away as another piece of the puzzle that was his partner.

"So," Peter began. "About that case we're working on…"

Neal seems like the kind of person who would bring strays home as a kid. And since he is essentially just a big, incredibly handsome kid, I figured it would carry over. ;P I must say, this chapter annoyed me. I had trouble writing it, because it feels so much like a 'filler' chapter. But the thing is, I know I had to put it in. And here's why: You see, to me, it seems unnatural for Peter to decide to learn more about his partner and then a few days later uncover all Neal's deep dark secrets, you know? There has to be a natural build-up. So, I'll probably have one or two more 'light-hearted' chapters like this, where we learn little things about Neal, before I start getting into the bigger, more serious things about his past. Like I said, I have a plan!

On a completely separate note, Tuesday's episode: Awesome! I loved Neal giving Peter a lollipop before he realized who he was. Priceless! Although I wont lie, I was kind of disappointed in how Peter finally caught Neal. I don't know, it just seemed too… easy. But, that's just me. And the episode was still good. I especially love that they still left so much mystery to Neal's character, like when he first began his criminal escapades and how he got so good (since he was already semi-established when he met Moz). It leaves a lot of room for the writers to play around and surprise us more later. ;)

Okay, Uber-long Author's Note done now. Gimme a week and I'll get the next chapter up, kay? Kiss kiss! ~BFMS