Sunday Morning...
Peter sat at the kitchen table reading the newspaper while his wife finished cooking breakfast. Sounds from the kitchen filtered throughout the house, but not even the beating of silverware against pots and pans could deafen the sounds of Neal Caffrey hobbling down the stairs. Peter rolled his eyes and let out a heavy sigh. Dropping the newspaper on the table, Peter got up and walked to the bottom of the stairs. He stood with his arms folded across his chest and looked up at Neal who was leaning heavily against the banister, eyes screwed shut in pain. He cleared his throat to get the younger man's attention and looked at him expectantly.
Neal jumped slightly and looked at the agent standing at the bottom of the stairs. His mouthed opened slightly in shock, before he gave Peter the best innocent smile he could muster.
"Hey, Peter." Neal's voice was tense, as he nervously tried to release the death grip he had on the banister to straighten up.
"Neal." Peter's voice was in the all too familiar tone of a warning as he put his hands on his hips. Something Neal found humorous each time it happened, but he knew better than to laugh.
"How many times last night did I tell you to not go up or down these steps without help?" Peter asked, still standing at the bottom of the stairs.
"Peter, you act like I've lost a leg." Neal complained.
"Yeah, well you're about to." Peter shot back as he climbed the stairs to meet Neal.
"Peter, I can walk down the stairs by myself, but your concern for me is flattering." Neal beamed as Peter stood on the step below him and rolled his eyes.
"I'm not concerned for you, I'm just worried that if you were to fall down the stairs you could take full advantage of the Bureau." Peter explained with a shrug of his shoulders.
"Peter," Neal looked at him with a hurt look. "Do you really think I need to fall down a flight of stairs to take advantage of the Bureau?"
Peter narrowed his eyes at him. Neal held up his hands.
"I'm just saying."
"Would you just come on? El is almost done with breakfast." Peter said moving to help Neal down the stairs.
"Peter, I got it. I got it." Neal said pushing Peter away slightly. The agent sighed at Neal's stubbornness and once again crossed his arms over his chest while he watched Neal struggle to casually walk down the stairs. Peter was impressed that the younger man managed to make it half way down the stairs before he stopped and gripped the banister with both hands so hard his knuckles turned white. Peter waited, even when Neal muffled a scream, for the younger man to admit defeat. Neal hung his head for a few seconds before looking down the rest of the stairs. He was quiet a moment, waiting for Peter to say something smug, but when the agent said nothing, Neal softly spoke.
"I can't." Neal admitted shamefully. He waited for the smart reply from Peter but it never came.
Peter knew it was a milestone for Neal to admit he couldn't make it down the rest of the stairs and knowing he would absolutely hate it if roles were reversed, he decided not to tease Neal about it. Instead, he once again put Neal's arm around his shoulders.
"Just tell me when you're ready." Peter said simply, making sure Neal took his time.
Neal was silent for a moment, looking at Peter with gratefulness.
"I'm ready."
Once again, they hobbled down the stairs, only this time they went to the kitchen table instead of the couch. Neal plopped down in his chair and laid his forehead on the table, too tired to care about pride at this point.
Peter moved a chair next to him on his left. Neal started to say something about Peter sitting so close to him when Peter tapped his arm with the back of his hand.
"Here, prop your leg up in this chair and put some ice on it." Peter said.
Neal reluctantly lifted his head up and scooted back from the table. He slowly lifted his aching knee up, with some help from Peter, and put it in the chair. Peter went to retrieve some ice from the kitchen while Neal rolled his pant leg up.
When Peter returned, Elizabeth following closely behind carrying two dishes, Neal was staring at his knee with disgust while poking it gently. Elizabeth set the dishes down on the table and then turned her attention to Neal.
"How's your knee this morning, Neal?" She asked.
"It's fine." Neal said not breaking his gaze away from his knee that had swelled to double its normal size.
"Oh yeah! It's fine, Elizabeth. Isn't your knee black and twice the size of your other one? Oh, and does it not hurt so bad that you can't even walk on it?" Peter asked his wife sarcastically. Elizabeth smacked his arm and grabbed the bag of ice from his hand.
"Quit giving him a hard time, Peter, and go get the rest of the food in the kitchen." She ordered, shooing him away. Peter rolled his eyes at her before doing as he was told. Once Peter was in the kitchen, Elizabeth turned back to Neal, shaking her head.
"He's so grumpy in the morning." Neal said, while Elizabeth placed the bag of ice on his knee. He smiled up at her, but she gave him a knowing look.
"You can't blame him." She said shaking her head. "You see, there's this guy that has him constantly worried 24/7. He's constantly getting himself into trouble and...well, injured. He can't help but be cranky, it's how he copes." Elizabeth smiled down at him and ruffled his wavy hair. Neal moved away, with a small laugh.
Elizabeth went back into the kitchen to help Peter with the rest of the food. Neal laid his head back down on the table, closing his eyes. He didn't even bother lifting his head up when he heard the Burkes come back to the table. They placed the dishes on the table and Peter sat down, while Elizabeth handed Neal two pain killers. Neal sat up and took them graciously.
They had just started eating their breakfast when Peter caught Neal's eye and swallowed thickly.
"So, Hon' what are your plans for today?" Peter asked his wife.
"Oh, well I'm going to meet Rachel and we are going to go shopping at a new store that opened this weekend." Elizabeth replied.
"That sounds fun." Peter said, looking at Neal then looking back at his wife.
"Yes, it will be. Especially, since you will be cleaning up the bathroom while I'm gone." Elizabeth smiled and squeezed Peter's arm.
"El, come on. Look what happened yesterday. You can't possibly want me to try that again." Peter tried to reason.
"Personally, I don't think it is a good idea-" Neal interjected, but Peter and Elizabeth both gave him a warning look. "But you know, that's just me." He finished quietly before taking a bite of food.
"Elizabeth," Peter started to say but his wife cut him off.
"Peter, I don't want you to try to fix it. I said clean it. Just clean it up a little so when the plumber comes tomorrow it won't look so terrible."
Peter let out a relieved sigh. "Oh thank God."
Elizabeth laughed at her husband. Neal and Peter grinned at each other.
"I'll call the plumber Monday morning before I leave for work."
"Oh, no. I've already called them. I called them yesterday when you were doing laundry." Elizabeth smiled.
"Peter, what was it you said yesterday?" Neal asked, squinting his eyes in mock confusion. "Something about you can't be married for as long as you two have and not know how to do handiwork? But it sounds like Elizabeth doesn't agree." Neal smiled at him.
"You said what?" Elizabeth asked. Neal just grinned at Peter as the agent stared him down.
"I just meant I had done things like fixing a sink before." Peter tried to explain.
"I'm pretty sure that's not what you were implying, Pet- OW!" Neal exclaimed as he rubbed his shin on his uninjured leg under the table while he glared at Peter.
Elizabeth had stood from the table to retrieve her ringing phone, but turned around.
"Peter, don't kick Neal."
Peter gawked at her and Neal smiled brightly as if he had just gotten away with the biggest crime of the century. She saw Peter throw a piece of his toast across the table and hit Neal in the head with it before answering her phone.
A few minutes later, Elizabeth returned to find Neal and Peter laughing and her table covered in toast crumbs.
"As much as I would love to join this burnt bread war, I have to meet Rachel." Elizabeth said walking up behind Peter and hugging him. She lifted two pieces of toast that had previously been used as Neal's ammo and went to grab her purse.
"I'll be back this afternoon. Please, don't cause another disaster." She told Peter.
"Yeah, Peter." Neal agreed. "See it was your fault."
Then Elizabeth looked at Neal. "And no more injuries."
"Yeah, Neal." Peter shot back.
"Oh, and one more thing." Elizabeth said turning around a few steps from the table. Both men looked at her expectantly, but were caught off guard when a piece of toast came flying from Elizabeth's hand and hit Peter in the side of the head. Neal busted out laughing, as Peter looked at his wife in disbelief.
"Why did you throw it at me?" Peter asked.
"Well Honey, I can't always be on your side."
"You're hardly ever on my side!" Peter shot back.
"That's not true." Elizabeth countered. "Besides, he's injured. How could I possibly turn against him now?" She asked as she hugged Neal. Peter rolled his eyes as Neal and Elizabeth laughed. "But in all seriousness, don't do anything today, Neal. Just rest. If your knee isn't any better tomorrow, you're going to the doctor."
Neal groaned. "That's really not necessary."
"We will be the judge of that." Elizabeth said, mussing his hair slightly. Turning to leave once more, but not before throwing a piece of toast at Neal and hitting her target. She was out the door before Neal had time to react. He glared at Peter who was laughing at him.
"I'll get you back." Neal said.
"Do, and you'll have two injured knees." Peter teased, but accepted the challenge of an on going war.
"Can I go home now Peter?" Neal asked. He was laying on the couch watching Peter walk back and forth through the house gathering cleaning supplies.
"You're just saying that to get out of Elizabeth making you go to the doctor tomorrow if your knee isn't better, so no."
"Peter, I am not. I've out stayed my welcome. I'm just trying to be polite."
"Neal, you came over here uninvited. There was no welcome to begin with." Peter retorted.
"Well, next time I get bored I'll go to an art museum or explore the edges of my radius." Neal said.
"Then you can be bored in prison."
"It's better than being bored here." Neal shot back.
"There's no way you have been bored here." Peter said, now standing next to the couch looking down at Neal.
"No, but I have been injured."
"And whose fault is that?"
"Whatever. Just take me home. I swear I'll rest. I won't do anything I shouldn't." Neal pleaded, sitting up.
"Neal." Peter warned.
"I promise, Peter."
"No."
"Peter-"
"No."
"But-"
"No. Now lay down, watch TV or sleep or just stare at the ceiling." Peter said, pushing Neal back down. "Just don't get up. I'll be back down in an hour or so. Yell if you need anything."
"Okay." Neal sighed and made himself comfortable on the couch. Peter watched him settle and then went you clean up the bathroom. Halfway up the steps he called out, "I mean it, Neal. Don't get up."
"Mmmkay."
Peter rolled his eyes knowing that Neal wasn't going to stay on the couch.
Peter had been cleaning for about an hour, and every few minutes of that hour Neal's voice called out to him from down stairs reminding him of how bored the younger man was. After four arguments, Peter just ignored Neal, but now silence had greeted Peter for almost forty minutes and the agent couldn't help but speculate that Neal was doing something he wasn't supposed to.
Five minutes later, his suspicions were confirmed.
Neal stood with his hands behind his back, leaning heavily against the doorframe of the bathroom, breathing heavy and sweat covering his face. Peter stood from his crouched position and once again put his hands on his hips, his face taking on a furious look.
Neal grinned. "Hi, Peter."
Peter sighed and bit his lip.
"Neal..." He wiped a hand over his face. "I don't know how many times I told you not to get up from the couch. Do you need your hearing checked?" He scolded, his hands back on his hips.
"Do you need yours checked? I kept telling you how bored I was."
Peter shook his head. "Neal, what happened to 'I won't do anything I shouldn't' ?" He asked making quotation marks with his fingers.
"That was if you took me home, which you didn't." Neal shot back.
"So you thought you would get me back by causing yourself even more pain and coming up the stairs to annoy me?" Peter questioned. "Not really your best scheme."
Neal took his hands out from behind his back and smiled wider.
"But I brought you a beer." He announced holding a cold beer in his right hand and a bottle of wine in his left.
"Well, that makes the plan a little better." Peter said, walking over to Neal and taking the offered drink. He sat it down on the counter, along with the wine.
"Sit down, before you fall down, Neal."
Peter helped Neal over to the toilet and closed the lid so the younger man could sit down. Neal sat down, an exhausted sigh escaping from his mouth. He reached for the wine, but Peter scooted it away and grabbed a bottle of water he had brought up with him and handed it to Neal.
"Peter-" Neal started to protest, but Peter cut him off.
"No. You've been taking pain medication today, which means no wine for you."
"Peter, a little wine is not going to do anything. Besides, it was over the counter stuff, not hydrocodone."
Peter grabbed his beer and sat down in the floor, back leaning against the wall, in front of Neal.
"I don't care. I've already seen Neal Caffrey high as a kite at the Howser Clinic. that isn't something I want to witness again." He took a long sip of his beer. "Thanks, by the way."
"Do you know how hard it was to bring that up here? And now you're denying me my wine." Neal complained leaning back against the back of the toilet.
"One, it is my wine. And two, how on earth did you manage to get up here with this?"
"What do you think I've been doing for the past thirty minutes?" Neal asked closing his eyes and laying his head back. "It was a slow and painful process, but I managed."
"Yeah, I can see that." Peter said, surveying the bathroom then looking at Neal. "Well, I think I've done all I can do in here. Let's go watch a movie or something." Peter offered, standing up.
"As great as that sounds, I honestly can't go back down the stairs right now."
"So, we will watch one in the guest bedroom. Come on."
Elizabeth came home to a quiet house. Satchmo came to greet her, but no one else.
She looked around the living room, but didn't see Peter or Neal. She quietly walked up the stairs and could here soft chatter coming from the guest bedroom.
Peaking inside she saw Neal sprawled out on the bed, with his leg propped up, asleep and Peter sitting in the floor, leaning against the bed, with his head laid back, asleep as well. The TV was on, playing some cop movie, but DVD cases were scattered on the floor, everything from the Cary Grant classic To Catch A Thief to some of Peter's favorite movies. She smiled and quietly left the room.
A hour later she was setting the table for dinner, when Peter and Neal came down and sat on the couch.
"Hey, boys. Did you have a good day?"
Both men nodded.
"Did you?" Peter asked, stretching a bit.
"Yes, yes I did." Elizabeth said. "Oh, and I got a new picture for the living room today."
She walked over to a shopping bag and pulled out a picture frame, keeping the picture towards her.
"What is it?" Neal asked, as Elizabeth went to hang it up beside the bookshelf. She stood directly in front of it, so neither Peter nor Neal could see it.
She turned around but still hid it. She smiled really big.
"Honey, what is it?" Peter asked with a small laugh.
Elizabeth stepped to the side to reveal the picture and watched both men's faces fall.
"Oh my- Hon, you can't be serious!" Peter said standing up. Neal was silent.
"Peter, it is adorable."
"You are not keeping that hanging up." Peter stated.
"Yes, I am. And if you try to take it down, it will be so much worse for the both of you." She pointed at them. "Because I assure you I have copies that the FBI would love to see." She threatened, before going back to the kitchen.
Peter and Neal sat on the couch staring at the picture Elizabeth had hung up.
"The things you go through." Neal said after a moment.
"What?" Peter asked, unsure of what Neal was talking about.
Neal turned his gaze to meet Peter's and smiled.
"The things you go through to teach me a lesson."
Peter waited a moment, then laughed.
"You have a point." Peter agreed, as he thought of everything that had happened over the weekend that was all started by a bored Neal Caffrey and Peter Burke wanting to teach him a lesson about showing up to his house uninvited on their day off.
Staring at the picture of himself and Neal, passed out on the couch from the day before, right after the water from the sink had nearly ruined his house, Peter realized one thing:
It's hard to teach Neal Caffrey a lesson, but definitely worth the try.
The End
AN: I'm kind of sad this story has come to an end. It was really fun to write! As always feedback is greatly appreciated! Thank you to all of you who read this, reviewed this and added this story to your favorites and alerts! I hope you enjoyed it!