A/N: Thank you to all the wonderful reviewers of Chapter 1, and for the support for this verse of White Collar. Writing O/C's are difficult, so I'm grateful Ender has been so well received. Sorry this chapter has taken so long. This one was a bit difficult to write, but the next one is almost done and should be posted in a day or two.

You Better Not Cry

Almost an hour after Peter's initial visit from Neal the agent looked up to see what had become a predictable scene, and part of a five act play that unfolded several times a week.

The story always began with Neal being assigned some sort of case by Peter, or one of the other agents at Peter's behest.

Follow this with Neal's predictable grumbling and complaining about how the case was a waste of his skills.

Next, Peter would reiterate to Neal that he was not allowed to choose the cases they worked and all their cases could not be rescuing damsels in distress or recovering million dollar works of stolen art.

Some time later in that day, or the next, a new probie would come into Peter's office with information about the case, he had discovered, after hours of phone calls and combing through credit card reports, witness notes, and financial records for information.

The story always concluding with Peter yelling at Neal for tricking someone else into doing the work he was assigned, coupled with Neal providing puppy dog eyes and ample excuses on how he was only putting someone's else's interests above his own, by giving them the opportunity get practically experience solving cases.

Rare though it was, Peter had caught Neal right between steps four and five with their newest probie fresh out of Quantico, standing next to Neal's desk an expression of rapt attention on his face.

Apparently several of their adventures were now part of the fraud unit taught at Quantico, because new agents usually arrived wide eyes and a bit awed about meeting one of them for the first time.

Neal, seizing every opportunity to run a con, whether illegal, or just slightly amoral, had no problem using this celebrity status to his advantage.

And Peter had no problem calling him on his bull.

Never wanting to scare the new agents too much their first month on the job, Peter opted to avoid yelling across the bullpen and instead leaned on the rail and keeping his eyes fixed on Neal's position till he could make eye contact.

Neal was clearly in his element, hands gesticulating, most likely in the middle of reliving one of their cases, the probie with wide eyes atwhat had to be embellished tales of heroics.

Not that their real stories weren't heroic, but this was Neal. He lived for embellishment.

A few moments later and Neal glanced up, looking about - as he was reliving a particularly gleeful moment, when he glanced over in Peter's direction.

Peter did his best disapproving father glare, which surprisingly had much more affect than his disapproving agent glare.

Neal covered his startle reaction pretty quickly, by yanking the file folder out of the probie's hands and turning back to his computer with a quick word of dismissal. The probie stood there with a confused look on his face, for a moment, before tuning and catching Peter's gaze who gave a raised eyebrow, causing the young man to scurry back over to his own desk.

Neal was giving his best impression of the studious employee, back rigid as he sat in front of his computer hands on the keyboard, although Peter noted Neal carefully turned his computer screen so Peter couldn't see what was on it from his current angle.

Ten minutes later Neal startled as Peter dropped something down on his desk.

"Uh, Peter…what is that?" Neal shoved away from his desk with big eyes and a horrified expression.

Peter smirked. "What Neal? I thought you were a fan of Legolas here." He waved the little red elf back and forth in front of Neal's face before setting him down on Neal's pen-holder, arranging him so he was both staring at Neal and what Neal was doing at the same time.

"For Ender yes. But I am not a child Peter," Neal folded his arms across his chest.

"And yet you use every opportunity to act like one – Peter Pan," came the reply. "So here's the deal." Peter kept eye contact, knowing Neal would do the same. "Legolas is going to monitor your behaviour. See which list you fall on."

He carefully adjusted the elf's head so Neal was glued with that overly cheery smile. "And then Santa can decide whether to get you any presents this year."

With that the agent turned on his heel and walked away leaving Neal staring at the elf with a vague look of horror on his face.

Watching Neal, over the rest of the day, was rather entertaining. Not that Peter got any work done. But it was hard to make Neal uncomfortable. Pretty impossible really, and any chance to watch him squirm was okay in Peter's book.

"You're enjoying this too much boss," Diana told him as she handed him a warrant request to sign, glancing back over her shoulder at Neal who was slowly and carefully pushing the cup with the elf on it, so it wasn't facing his direction any more.

"He started it when he dropped that damn thing on my desk this morning," Peter wasn't the least bit sympathetic. "Do you really think Ender is going to believe some magical elf flies back to the North Pole to report on his behaviour to Santa every night?"

"So leave him there to annoy Neal and the rest of the office," she laughed. The conman had managed to move the elf so he was facing towards Agent Grant's desk, and the agent was now watching the thing out of the corner of his eye, his expression slightly terrified.

Peter folded his arms grumbling, "I can't. That thing was a gift from June so I can't exactly not give it too him."

Diana shrugged carelessly, "Just a few days boss. Caffrey never squirms."

"As much as torturing Neal, is something I rarely get the chance to enjoy, no one in this office will get any work done with that thing around. Have you seen it up close?" Peter gave a visible shudder. " It's smiling just like the psychopath does in those horror films right before he slits your throat."

As if to support Peter's statement Agent Grant shouted from across the room, "Caffrey turn that thing around right now. It's creeping me out."

Neal glanced up in Peter's direction, then sighed and turned the cup back around, his expression glum.