Peter came through the front door looking rather peachy as he hung his coat and strolled into the kitchen just in time for a fresh pot of coffee to signal its readiness. "Hi beautiful." Peter kissed his fiancé and grabbed for a sweet pastry that was just asking to be taken.

"Hey handsome. What were you up to this morning?" El had left early for work while both boys enjoyed a Saturday morning sleep-in. She handed Peter his cuppa and they moved out together to sit on the sofa.

"I've been making some inquiries El." Peter sounded all excited. "I've found a small private college on the lower east side that specializes in young gifted art students. I went for a look at the college this morning and the principal, Kelly Belding seems very nice. She has offered us an opening in her entrant program for Neal. It's a small class of fifteen students. And the best part is that students get college credit for their attendance."

"That's really sweet of you to go to all that trouble, Peter. But I just don't have the surplus funds to pay for the tuition fees. Perhaps we could consider it at a later date when my business is up and turning over a satisfactory profit. I imagine a private college in Manhattan is not cheap."

"I have a plan." Peter sat forward on the sofa and spun so he was facing El.

"You've worked it all out. I knew there was a reason I loved you so much." El leaned in and kissed her sweetie on the lips.

Peter pulled back and spoke a little more conservatively, "You may not like my plan so here me out first." El nodded. "I live here now…"

"Yes, and…"

"Well I use to pay $700 a week in rent that I no longer have to pay. I haven't been paying anything in rent here."

"Neither do I. And don't forget you help pay the bills."

"Yeah. And I was also paying the bills at my last address. So I figured the money I save on rent could go directly into paying for Neal's tuition and the surplus would go into a college trust fund."

"I don't know, Peter. It doesn't seem right that you should have to pay for my son to attend school."

"Our son, El. When I moved in here, when I asked you to marry me, Neal was part of the package. We're a family already El. It's you, me and our boy and I'm as responsible for Neal as you are. Once we're married and the adoption becomes offical there won't even be a discussion about it. Until then, I would still like him to go to school." Peter paused for a moment and slowed himself down. "If you don't want that El, then I'll look for something else for him to do with his time, but please don't say no just because you're not happy with the way the finances are being shuffled around."

"Oh sweetie. No. Of course I want him to go to school and I love you for being so caring. I am completely behind you with this. Neal on the other hand….."

-W-C-

"No thank you, Peter." That night at dinner, Peter brought up the idea of Neal attending Bayside Art College.

"Why not Neal?"

"It's not for me."

"How do you know?"

"I'm more of a free will kind of guy. You know paint a little here, sketch a little there."

Steal a little, con a lot. "I get it, Neal. Unfortunately you can't live your whole life like that. You have to eventually accept that's not how it's done."

"Why not? Why shouldn't it be like that?"

"Because, that type of attitude doesn't pay the rent, Neal and eventually you'll want to move out of home and for that you'll need a real job."

Mozzie and my other friends don't live at home and they're still free spirits. No nine-five jobs tying them down. No burdens of stress. No early heart attacks or strokes."

It was a difficult argument to win with Neal so Peter conceded that he'd need more time to work on the young man. "Think about it will you, please."

"Sure, Peter. Thank you anyway for your very generous offer." Neal returned to eating his meal and Peter sat back and wondered why he was even the slightest bit surprised that the kid had turned him down.

-W-C-

The following weekend, Peter had given up trying to talk Neal into enrolling in the college so he laid out an alternative plan.

"Neal, since you are not interested in attending school, I've sorted out a work experience program for you." The young boy was lying on the living room floor wrestling with Satchmo and hadn't noticed the 'parental team' zeroing in on its target.

"You what!" Neal untangled the puppy and leapt to his feet.

"Yeah. Have a seat." Peter indicated the empty chair across from where he was sitting with El. "This is how it's going to work. On Monday and Tuesday you will come to the Bureau with me. I'll set you up in my office and you can do filing work and data entry and odd jobs like…"

"Like getting you coffee?"

"I guess. That sounds like a good plan. And then on Wednesday and Thursday you will go to work with El."

"You'll be helping me with stock turnover, client requests and billing information. You can even run the call centre on your days, Baby Seal."

"Sounds so exciting. When do I start?" Neal's tone was dripping with sarcasm.

"This week Neal," Peter ignored the young boy's tone.

"Well I guess it's not total confinement." Neal tried to sound a little more upbeat. "I'll still have Fridays to hang out with real people."

"No. You'll have the weekends to do what the other kids do. Go on picnics with the family, ride your bike around the block, hang out at the skate park."

I don't even own a bike! "Oh come on, Peter. That's just insulting."

"I'm serious, Neal. On Fridays you'll stay here and do chores around the house. El and I will give you a list of jobs at breakfast such as cleaning off the back patio, weeding the garden, stacking firewood."

"The chores won't take up the whole day so when you finish you'll be able to watch a movie, go on the computer, read a good book." El tried to make it sound inviting but sadly that ship had long since sailed.

"And how much will I get paid for a whole week of slave labour?"

Peter disregarded the insinuation and replied casually, "What you get now, $30."

Neal laughed. He laughed so hard he almost fell off his chair. "Oh Peter, you're serious aren't you. Come on, surely you're embarrassed just letting that number come out of your mouth. $30?" I can make that in 30 seconds. "A week's work is only worth $30?"

"You're not getting paid for the work experience Neal. It's work experience not a part-time job. You're going to do it so when you are old enough to begin a real job, you'll have references and experience that will go a long way to securing half decent employment. You won't have a college or even a high school diploma to speak of so you'll need something. The $30 is your pocket money for the chores you do around the house. It's the same amount you always get. It's spending money, Neal. Money to go the movies, hire out a DVD, go to the mall with a few friends and buy a new shirt or a music CD."

Neal sobered up. He knew Peter's intentions were thoughtful and considerate, however did he always have to be so oppressively consistent with his parenting? Didn't he have more important concerns to invest his time in? Criminals to catch, cases to solve? Surely someone else out there was causing more strife than one young Neal Caffrey?

"Now Neal, if you change your mind and find this work experience program is not your thing, you can always enroll in the Bayside Art College or any other school of your choosing for that matter."

"No. It's fine." Neal groaned out reluctantly. "The work experience program sounds awesome. I'm looking forward to it. Monday?" He didn't even try to hide how much he loathed the idea.

"Yes, Monday."

"Great." Crap

-W-C-

Monday morning came around fast and Peter was about to call out that it was time to leave when the youngster came sauntering down the stairs. He was smartly dressed in back pants and jacket, a crisp white collared shirt, a navy blue striped tie and a neat little tie bar with the initial… B? As he got to the bottom of the stairs he did a neat trick with his hat so it flipped along the length of his hand and onto his head. Peter felt like making some inappropriate comment about him looking like a comic with the head wear and formal attire but reconsidered after he told himself that the boy did look pretty smart after all.

"See you, Hon."

"Bye Mam'ma."

El raced over and gave both her boys a kiss goodbye. "Look at you two. You look like twins."

Both men groaned, Peter picked up his brief case, Neal picked up his satchel and they made tracks before El went and got all emotional on them.

-W-C-

"Comment s'est passée ta journée." Neal's attention had been focused out the car window but he spun around to investigate the unexpected French questioning coming from the Tauras' touch screen.

"Bien, merci, que diriez-vous votre exemplaire." The boy was equally perplexed to hear Peter return an answer in the correct language.

"Peter?" Neal raised his eyebrows and awaited an explanation.

The agent reached over and switched off the language tutor. "I've been learning French while driving to work each day. I figured with twenty minutes each way, and additional time for the occasional gridlock, I'll be speaking fluent French before you know it."

"Why?"

"Because little one, I no longer want to be the only one in the house unable to speak French."

Neal smiled at Peter knowingly. "You know we also speak Italian, Spanish and Japanese."

Peter had stopped at a set of lights, allowing for an opportunity to turn and narrow his eyes at the young boy, "You're kidding me?" Neal continued to smile, pulled an MP3 player from his satchel and plugged in his ear phones. "No you're not." Peter shook his head and resumed the language tutor program.

Foutre.

-W-C-

Neal found the White Collar office to be exactly how he expected it. Bland, boring and in need of a personal decorator. Perhaps he would have a purpose here after all. They were the first to arrive, excepting for the mail delivery girl and so Peter gave Neal a quick tour of the office. The tour went along the lines of, 'These are the areas you can go, these are the areas you cannot.' The tea room, toilets and Peter's office were on a very short list of acceptable locations. Everywhere else was designated out-of-bounds and could get the offender thrown into lock-up if discovered in such an area, or worse still, would suffer the wrath of one Reece Hughes, Director of the White Collar Unit! Neal made a careful note of the no go zones. Peter nominated a little table at the back of his office for Neal's personal use. He could set it up however he needed. Shortly after settling in, Peter deposited a large box filled with paper work onto the young boy's desk and instructed him to compile and staple. Neal got excited about the idea of checking out some of the cases Peter may be working on but he quickly deflated when he realised they were simply work place health and safety booklets. Somebody kill me now!

Thirty minutes later, Neal was ripped from his semi-comatose state when a young agent came in to give Peter a file. "Jones this is Neal, Neal, Jones." Peter was so classy with his introductions.

Neal stood up from his desk and reached over when the agent held out his hand to the young boy. "I'm Clinton. Nice to meet you Neal."

"Pleased to meet you too, Clinton… What's your role here at the Bureau?"

"I work for Peter. Investigate cases and you know, catch lots of bad guys."

Neal liked the young man instantly. "Which case are you working on today, Clinton?"

"Get back to work, Neal." Peter instructed in his firm agent voice and then continued to discuss the file with Jones.

Work? I could build a machine to do this job. In fact, haven't they already?

A short time later, another visitor graced Peter's office.

"Boss, I have a lead on the Murphy case. I'm going to pay Mr Casey a visit."

"You want to take Jones?"

"No. I just need to check up on some of the details he made in his statement that don't add up to the record on the surveillance tape."

"I'll go with you." A mumbled voice sounding less than enthusiastic broke into the conversation.

The female agent hadn't paid any attention to the young kid lying with his head on the desk in the corner.

"Neal, sit up." Peter ordered upon realizing the kid's prone state.

"You must be Neal Caffrey… nice hat."

Neal gave the beautiful young woman the Caffrey smile but it disappeared quickly when Peter demanded, "Take the hat off in here, please."

The agent returned her attention to the task at hand. "I'm heading off now boss."

"Call me as soon as you're done."

Neal waited until the door was shut, "Who's that?"

"That's Diana. Diana's my probie."

"Probie?"

"Probationary agent. She does everything I don't, she's very good at her job and if you're finished with those booklets, I have some blank forms here that need stamping."

-W-C-

"How was your first week man? I'm glad you've been allowed out on weekend release."

The two friends were standing by the river after an aimless trek around the city streets. Neal picked up a large rock and tossed it angrily into the water. "It's not good Moz."

"The 'work experience' program? He does know that it's an incredible insult to your intelligence?"

Neal sighed heavily. "It's excruciating, Mozzie. I don't know what's worse, stapling 505 forms with a note that says this form has now being replaced with the 506 or taking wedding orders for people who can't decide if they want to go with the aqua blue or marine blue at the top of place card holders."

"Geez man, you've really let yourself go. Can't say I thought I'd ever see the day."

"Thanks for the pep talk." Another rock was tossed into the dark void of the water below. "You do realise I'm far from a willing participant in this latest scheme to keep me on the straight and narrow?"

"Fine then. Why not, oh I don't know, say thanks anyway but no way in hell I'm going to do it!"

Neal sat back on the park bench and rested his head in his hands. "Not so easy, Moz. After my little vacation away from home a few weeks ago..."

"When you ran away."

"I needed a little vacation, okay?"

"Potatoes, Patartoes."

"Anyway," Neal shot Mozzie a glare, "Peter had a talk with me, which didn't go down too well, and as soon as he left, I rang Kate to tell her there would be a short delay with the Urbino Project due to a slight hiccup with the materials required and during the call I may have mentioned that I was keen to get out."

"Really?"

"So, before you get too excited, she talked me into sticking it out just a little while longer and convinced me that everything would be fine."

"And you believed her?"

Neal stood up and walked over to lean against the safety rail. "She told me if in the unlikely event the con fell apart, she would protect me and I wouldn't have anything to worry about… And yes, I believed her."

"Okay then." Mozzie tried to sound supportive even if he didn't feel it. "So what's the dilemma? Do what you need to for Kate, get out, and live happily ever after. What am I missing?"

"The 'Peter factor.'"

"It always comes back to the suit." It was Mozzie's turn to sigh.

"He's made it quite clear, I'm no longer allowed to do my thing."

"Forgive me if this sounds like self-explanatory, but can't you, you know, just do it anyway?"

Neal looked away into the distance, remembering the earlier 'discussion.' "I'm not in a big hurry to get punished again."

Mozzie chuckled while patting Neal's shoulder. "Worried about a little swat to your pants my young friend?"

If only. "Peter may have hinted a few weeks back at raising the bar on the consequences and since that little chat, the scales have been tipped slightly in favour of toeing the line and living inside the law."

Mozzie's tone turned more serious once again, "You have to do what's in your best interest, Neal, not Kate's and certainly not the creep that's pulling her strings."

Yeah, but how do I convince the 'puppet master'?