"Aw, my hat!"

Peter pinched the bridge of his nose at the sound of Neal's complaint. They had been chasing after one of the usual bad guys when the suspect had pulled on a fire alarm, causing not only an ear grating ringing to go off, but also the sprinkler systems to activate. It had slowed the two partners down slightly, but Peter had managed to tackle and cuff the guy before he got away. Now he was standing in the room, waiting for maintenance to turn off the water that was still raining down on them. Neal was beside him, now looking forlornly at his soaked hat.

The FBI agent rolled his eyes. "I'm sure it'll be fine Neal."

"Yeah, but I probably wont be able to wear it tomorrow." He pouted. Running his hands through his hair, he suddenly paused. "My hair's getting pretty long."

It was true. Seeing his hair wet only accentuated the length it was reaching. The con sighed. "I'll have to take care of that soon."

Finally, the sprinklers were turned off and the two men sagged with relief. "It's about time." Peter mumbled. Looking down at his, luckily waterproof, watch, the agent turned back to Neal. "It's a bit early, but I doubt Hughes will mind if we take care of the paperwork tomorrow."

"Want to see Elizabeth?"

Peter nodded. "I've barely seen her all week."

"Well, let's get going then! I want to get out of these wet clothes."

Laughing, the two men made their way home.

Leaning back in his chair the next day, Peter logged onto the FBI database that held Neal's tracking information. He doubted he had anything to worry about, but at this point it had simply become a habit to check on Neal in the morning before the ex-con arrived. Looking at the map of New York, Peter saw that after being dropped off in the early evening, the other man had simply stayed at June's all night, and was now almost to the FBI building. Nodding in satisfaction, Peter closed the window and began going through the legal work for the case they had closed the night before.

Roughly fifteen minutes later, the agent's pet convict waltzed in. As suspected, Neal was not wearing his usual hat, probably still trying to dry it without damaging it. Smiling charmingly at everyone he passed, the man made his way to his desk mostly likely to think of ways to avoid paperwork.

Suddenly, Peter did a double take. Neal's hair… was shorter. Not significantly, but it had definitely been trimmed just as the conman had said he wanted. Peter quickly opened the tracking info again. Looking carefully over the information, he saw that everything was in order. Neal hadn't left his apartment, and there was no record of the anklet being turned off at any point.

So how did he get a haircut? Peter thought for a minute. As he pondered, an almost forgotten memory made its way to the forefront of his mind…

Peter gasped and panted. He was more out of shape than he thought. But he couldn't afford to stop now. Caffrey was ahead of him, weaving through alleys and crowds in an attempt to loose the agent pursuing him. It hurt Peter's pride to see that the criminal was obviously in much better shape then he was. Nevertheless, he pushed himself forward.

Turning into an alley that he had seen the conman duck into, he groaned as he watched him nimbly scale the fire escape on the side of the building. He leaned dejectedly against the wall. He'd never catch him now.

"What, giving up already?"

Peter jerked his head up, and saw Caffrey looking down at him. Even three stories apart, he could see the smirk painted on the forger's face.

The agent scowled. "I will catch you."

Laughter rang through the alley. "Of course you will Peter."

There was no mocking, no joke in Neal's voice, and Peter frowned in confusion. "Well, I'm glad you realize that."

"Of course, that doesn't mean you'll catch me tonight."

The laughter was back, and Peter turned red with frustration. Reaching to the ground, he picked up a handful of garbage and chucked it up at the conman. It was childish, he knew, but at the moment he didn't care.

Neal ducked to the side, narrowly avoiding getting hit in the face. "Hey, watch the hair!" He cried indignantly.

Despite himself, Peter laughed. "Oh, I'm sooo sorry." His voice was full of sarcasm. "I wouldn't want to mess up your hundred dollar haircut."

The criminal put his hand on his chest in mock offense. "You think this haircut cost a hundred dollars? Peter, I'm hurt. You should know I have much better taste than that."

"Oh? What, were your last few crimes needed to cover it?"

More laughter, but no answer. Peter cocked his head to the side in genuine curiosity. "So how much did it cost?"

Neal smiled down at him. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

Peter opened his mouth to say something else, when suddenly the sound of sirens reached their ears as the backup Peter had called for finally approached. Neal gave the agent a quick smile and a salute, and before Peter could blink he had scaled the final three stories and disappeared.

Peter's shook his head, pulling himself out of his thoughts. Determination coursed through him. He had said he would learn more about his partner and he would. By Jove, he was going to find out the cost of that haircut if it was the last thing he did.

Later, Jones would accuse him of simply not wanting to do paperwork, but that was beside the point.

Peter typed furiously on his computer. He had decided that if Neal hadn't left last night, then he must have gotten someone to come to him. That narrowed down his search quite a bit, since he was pretty sure most chains wouldn't do that. That left independent salons. He did a search of salons in Neal's general area, and found quite a few. Crossing off the salons that charged less than a hundred dollars, Peter was left with three possibilities. Finally, he actually called them. On the second call, he hit the jackpot.

"Hi, I was wondering, do you make house calls?" There was a pause and Peter smiled. "Excellent. And how much would that cost? … Great, thanks. Huh? Oh, no not today, sorry. Have a nice day." As he hung up, agent Burke smiled smugly at the number written down on the paper in front of him.

Score one for Peter.

About half an hour after Peter's victory, Neal came knocking at his door. "Hey Peter, wanna grab some lunch?"

"Sure."

The two men made there way to a café across the street, chatting and exchanging small talk. As they sat down at their table, Peter nodded towards his partner's hair.

"Nice haircut, by the way."

Neal smiled. "Thanks! It was a bit overdue, I think."

Peter nodded. "So it was what… 287 dollars?" He looked at Neal eagerly, awaiting the shock and awe at Peter's knowledge.

The conman frowned in confusion. "That's an oddly specific number."

"Yes! Because that's how much the Blu Salon charges for their house calls."

Neal looked at the other man with an open mouth, which Peter took for surprise at his accuracy. He continued. "I know you didn't leave June's last night, so I did a little research." He smiled smugly, waiting for a reaction.

...Admittedly, Neal bursting out laughing was not the reaction he was hoping for. Peter's face went red with embarrassment as the con clutched his stomach. Finally, he snapped. "What? What's so funny?"

Taking a few deep breaths, Neal finally managed to control his laughter enough to respond. "That's what you've been doing all day? Jeeze, I though we had a new case you were so intent on what you were doing."

"But, I'm right…right?"

Neal shook his head and pat Peter on the shoulder. "Sorry, partner."

"Wait, which part was I wrong about? The place or the price?"

"Everything."

Groaning, Peter dropped his head to the table. After a moment, he looked into his partner's smiling face pleadingly. "Can you please just tell me?"

Neal cocked his head to the side. "Why do you want to know so badly, anyway?"

Peter thought about it for a minute before responding hesitantly. "I don't know. I guess it's just curiosity."

Laughing once more, Neal shook his head in sympathy. "Alright, alright. I guess I've gotten enough amusement out of you for one day."

Perking up, the agent leaned forward in anticipation.

"It was free."

…Well that was unexpected. Peter's jaw dropped. "How'd you manage to get a free haircut?"

"Doing it yourself helps."

Peter's jaw practically fell off. "You cut your own hair?"

Neal nodded, desperately holding back his laughter from Peter's response.

"But it looks so…so…." Peter clutched at words until Neal finished it for him.

"Good?"

"Well, yeah!"

"Hm. It's a funny story actually…"

"Absolutely not." Neal backed away dramatically.

Moz rolled his eyes, pointing the scissors in his hand at the boy. "You need a haircut."

It was true. Moz and Neal had been together for about two months, and the teenager's hair was a little past his shoulders. He was still far too thin, and his clothes looked like they came from a thrift store (because they did), but there was little Mozzie could do about that. The hair on the other hand… "You look like some teenage trouble-maker."

"I am a teenage trouble-maker." Neal stated in exasperation.

"Exactly! 'First appearance deceives many'."

"'Deceiving others. That is what the world calls a romance'."

"Hm. Oscar Wilde. Not bad."

Neal laughed. "Look, I'm not saying I don't need a haircut. But there is no way in Hell I'm letting you do it."

"Well, professional haircuts are expensive. I prefer food, don't you?"

The boy shifted nervously from foot to foot. He understood Mozzie's reasoning, he did. But still…

"Don't you know anyone else who could do it?"

"I'll have you know I am quite capable."

Neal raised an eyebrow. "Have you looked in a mirror lately?"

"If that was a crack at my baldness it is not appreciated."

"Look," Neal sighed, "Just… let me take care of it. I wont spend any money, promise."

"Fine. But if your hair's not cut by tonight, I'm doing it in your sleep."

"Cause that wouldn't be creepy at all." Neal said sarcastically as he walked out the door.

The city was crowded, families and friends bustling about as the afternoon wore on. Unseen in an alley, a teenage boy crouched with a mirror and a pair of scissors. Neal sighed in frustration. Even his charm couldn't convince anyone to give him a free haircut. Business was bad and whatnot. He shakily brought the scissors to his hair. With no clue what he was doing, he feared what his head would look like soon.

"Need some help?"

Neal jumped, almost stabbing himself with the scissors. Whipping around to face the alley entrance, he saw an older black man smiling at him. Leaping to his feet, the boy stared at him suspiciously. "I'm fine, thanks."

Chuckling, the man entered the alley. "Oh, come on now. You didn't look exactly confident just now."

Neal mumbled. "Yeah, well I didn't know anyone was looking."

Laughing loudly, the man came closer. "Good one, kid! I like you." He looked Neal up and down. "Little rough around the edges though. I can see why you were about to go at it with your hair. Why don't you let me give you a hand?"

Neal took a step back, still suspicious. "What, you're gonna give me a haircut?"

"Hell no." Seeing the boy's surprise, he continued. "Teach a man to fish, feed him for a day. Teach a kid to cut his own hair, well, he's set for life."

Despite himself, Neal cracked a smile. "I don't think I've heard that version."

"Well, it's still valid. Now," He took the scissors out of Neal's hand, "Normally you want to do this with your hair wet, but let me show you…"

The man continued this way for almost half an hour. He would show the teenager what to do, and then help guide him to do it himself, giving tips ad tricks along the way. By the end, Neal's hair was at a respectable length, going a little past his ears, and he had a head full of knowledge so he could do it again anytime.

"Looks good." The man nodded in approval. "You clean up nice, kid. You gonna remember everything I told you?"

Nodding, Neal ran his hands through his hair. "Yeah, I've got a good memory."

"Good." Glancing at his watch, the man turned to leave. "Well, I should probably get going. Told the wife I'd be home soon."

"Thanks a lot, uh… what's your name, anyway?"

The man smiled. "You can call me Hale."

Neal smiled. "Well, thanks Hale. I appreciate it."

"No problem kid. Anytime."

And then he was gone.

"I've cut my own hair ever since, so I've had a lot of time and practice to get really good. It's a useful skill when you're short on cash but can't afford to look homeless."

Peter shook his head. He never would have guessed. "So you learned to cut hair from some stranger on the street? I'm impressed. You ever see the guy again?"

The agent cringed when he saw the sly smile on his partner's face. "After a few years, yeah."

"I'm going to regret asking this, but where'd you see him?"

"I'm not at liberty to say."

Peter groaned jokingly. "Why are all your friends criminals?"

Neal shrugged. "I'm sure they have their reasons. And besides, not all my friends are criminals. I know this one guy, Jones, I just know you'd love." He said sarcastically.

"Oh, shut it." The two laughed and finally got their lunch. Back at the office, Peter filed away this new piece of information. The conman would never cease to surprise him.

Sitting down, Peter finally began working on that pesky paperwork.

There you go everyone! Sorry it's a tad late. I had a bit of an issue with writer's block.

For those of you who might not remember, Hale had a brief scene in "Point Blank". I liked him, so I decided to give him a bit of love in this chapter. :)

Eh, I can't decide how I feel about this chapter. Not bad, I guess, but definitely not the best. I kind of just settled on it... Oh well. Either way, let me know what you guys think! Till next time, ~BFMS