A/N: Story takes place after Tigeress79's Animula Chapter 32.

Charlie Potatoes Part 1

"Movie night! You know I love movie night," exclaimed Mozzie, stepping through the open door of Neal's upscale apartment. "I've been looking forward to this since yesterday's invitation."

The little guy gazed about the living area, noting the appetizer trays, decanters, bottles, wine glasses and DVD cases, a smug smile tugging at his lips. Neal had even positioned the couch and chairs in an inviting circle around a large screen TV monitor.

Skirting around the furniture, as if it were an obstacle ready to topple the large carry bag he was carefully balancing in his arms, Mozzie edged over to Neal's kitchen counter, placing his duffel bag on the floor. Pulling out a large box set of movies and several huge tins of gourmet popcorn, his smile grew larger.

"I stopped at Penn Plaza, mon frère. An acquaintance of mine got me a huge discount at Garratt's."

Garrett's, an upscale popcorn shop first originating in Chicago, was a popular attraction among the elite who desired perfectly cooked popcorn crisp and light, air-popped and served with natural flavorings. The store advertised their ingredients were from closely guarded, secret family recipes.

Neal's eyes were locked on the number of tins his friend continued to pull out of his bag. "Looks like you bought out the store. Did you leave any behind?" he asked with a grin, reaching out to help steady the towering stack.

Mozzie rolled his eyes. "I bought all four varieties including 'Chicago Mix'; your own personal favorite.

He knew Neal's weakness, a passion for Garrett's blend of cheese and caramel flavored popcorn, known to be addictive as crack. "Too bad June's on vacation. I bought some of her macadamia, caramel crisp."

"Well, it's a lovely addition to our evening repast. Thanks, Moz."

"The least I could do," his friend beamed with delight, pleased with himself. "So… how did you get rid of your pet for the evening? Where is Peter? In his room amusing himself with mathematical abstractions, or surfing the net for award-winning stock analysis and portfolio management?"

Neal shook his head.

"Oh, I know," Mozzie snorted. "He's eagerly devouring rules and chess tactics for a higher skill level? He actually thinks he can beat me."

"I thought he already had."

"One more point against him," Mozzie declared. "You cannot play at chess if you are kind-hearted."

Neal chuckled. "Peter didn't quote French proverbs when he told me about your chess games."

"I'm sure he didn't."

Pausing, the small man glanced at Neal's front door. "Say, it's pretty early for him to go to bed. He's not running another fever, is he?" Not that I'm worried about him, thought Mozzie. He just needs constant supervision.

"Yeah, about that," Neal reluctantly confessed, sliding his hands in his pockets and leaning against the counter, "I have to come clean with you."

Mozzie stopped midway between the kitchen and the living area, turning his head around to gawk.

"What? Wait! You didn't ask him to join us tonight. Neal, tell me you didn't─"

"I don't want him to feel excluded, Moz. Besides it's a good way for the two of you to get to know each other better."

Mozzie shook his head. "Two problems with that scenario. One, I don't want to get to know him better; I don't want to know him at all. And two, you told me on the phone this would be a time for you and me, sans Golden Eyes, to relax after the past week's trauma." He sunk powerless onto the sofa, closest to the wine bottles and oeuvres trays.

Neal reached into a drawer, pulled out a corkscrew and opened one of his best bottles of Bordeaux. Filling two glasses, he carried them to his slumped friend. Sitting down next to Mozzie on the couch, he gently placed the wine on the coffee table.

"Wine, food, good companionship, a classic movie … you'll see. A good time to be had by all."

"No, no, no," Mozzie sighed, wearily.

Treading softly, Peter appeared at the open door, closing it gently behind him. Earlier that day, Neal had invited Peter to spend a social evening with him and Mozzie. After several attempts to dissuade Neal from the asinine idea, his owner had flatly informed him, the evening was planned and he hoped to see him at 7PM.

Peter hadn't taken two steps into the room before the other two men looked up. "My research is almost complete," he stated, waving some paperwork at Neal. "This should give you a clear idea of which specific stocks to zero in on."

Attempting to feel useful, knowing Neal's interest in Cheng's assets, Peter had continued to study the quarterly and annual earnings reports of several of Cheng's hidden companies, identifying the ones with volatile earnings versus the ones with serious upside potential.

"Don't you ever knock?" Moz asked, his blue eyes sweeping over Peter, evaluating. "Neal, does he knock? It's kind of creepy having him sneak up on us."

Peter drew a deep breath; Neal stood up smiling.

"The door wasn't closed, Moz," he said patiently. "And besides, you know Peter has the run of the house, same as you. Actually, more so… since he lives here."

Mozzie waved this away, sipping at one of Neal's fine wines, a food-filled plate on his lap. The area around his eyebrows furrowed. "Have you been doing anything actually useful?" Mozzie asked, directing his question Peter's way.

Peter shook his head, giving a pointed look of his own.

"Just the usual, Mr. Haversham. Plotting mayhem, fostering uprisings and contemplating murdering my owner in his sleep."

Mozzie's mouth dropped open. Neal threw Peter an amused grin.

"You deserved that, Moz. Loosen up and have more wine. Peter's looking forward to a quiet evening watching classic movies."

"Right," muttered Peter, smiling coldly.

As he stood there stiffly, looking around the room, noting the food, alcohol and furniture arrangement, Neal took pity on him, stood up and motioned Peter to the kitchen.

"There's bottled water in the fridge, Peter and since Dr. Taylor said no alcohol, I designed a special drink for you."

Neal drew out a beautiful cut glass crystal pitcher, pouring a mixture into a frosty glass mug. As Peter approached with a quizzical look, Neal added, "You have to try this. I've gotten raves for my pineapple, passion fruit and coconut mocktail."

"Neal, I─"

"Oh go on, Peter," suggested Mozzie, momentarily stopping his munching. "Neal won't rest until you've tried his exotic elixir. He doesn't name these concoctions but the ones he made for me, when I was sick, are pretty good… even without the alcohol."

Feeling defeated, Peter took the mug, following Neal back to the seating area. Neal stretched out next to Mozzie. Peter moved to the chair furthest away and sat down ramrod straight, shoulders thrown back, eyeing the men as if he expected a momentary attack.

"Well, this is certainly the beginning of a delightful evening," said Mozzie. "However, not all is lost; I brought some really great movies."

"No," declared Neal. "We are not watching 'Tiles of Fire' or─"

"Whaat?"

"…any of its sequels tonight."

"Why not?" asked his friend. "Peter probably hasn't seen any of them?" Mozzie directed his next words to Peter. "Have you? Do slav… ah, Animula watch movies?"

"No."

Elizabeth certainly had her favorite films and introduced Peter to the concept of date night on the couch: you, spouse and the sofa. He smiled inwardly, remembering her turning what she called an ordinary night at home, into a special evening for the two of them.

"See," argued Mozzie, "he wants to see them."

"No, I don't."

"Don't worry," Neal interrupted. "I've picked a classic. My apartment, my rules." He lifted the remote and smiled.

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A/N: The movie Neal chooses is a favorite of mine. Any thoughts of what it is? There's a hint in Part 1.