A/N: Sorry I didn't post this last night. Time got away from me. Anyway, here's a Little!Neal and Mozzie story for you! I hope you enjoy! :)
Mozzie sneezed dejectedly. Today hadn't been his day. He looked up at the sun setting in the western sky, sending purple and orange flames across the horizon. It was sort of pretty, but he wished it wasn't setting just yet.
It was at the point in the year where the sun could barely warm things up, and at night it was freezing still. Speaking of which, Mozzie needed to bring a scarf next time. He pulled up his coat collar so it was sort of keeping his neck warm and shoved his hands into his pockets.
Somehow he managed to still be freezing, and kept sneezing and coughing intermittently. This earned him looks of either sympathy or irritation from those he passed. Not that Mozzie noticed the looks. He generally ignored the masses.
Half way down the sidewalk he was on, Mozzie coughed hard again several, causing his head to go forward and his glasses to fall off. With a muttered curse he bent down to pick them up. Luckily they weren't cracked at all, and he replaced them on the bridge of his nose.
"You should get that looked at," a young voice advised him from behind. "It sounds like it could get nasty." Mozzie jumped and spun around.
"Crap, Neal. Don't do that to me." Mozzie rubbed the side of his head as Neal gave him a bright grin.
"Sorry," Neal said. Mozzie rolled his eyes.
"Sure," he muttered. "And I'm not getting it looked at. Doctors and hospitals are just tools of the bureaucratic government in order to keep tabs on us." Neal raised one eyebrow and shrugged, his eyes showing concern.
"Whatever you say, Mozzie. But you shouldn't be out in this weather with that sort of a cold without a scarf or a hat or anything."
Mozzie let out a bark of laughter. "Look at the pot calling the kettle black!" He gave Neal a pointed look. "You're in short sleeves, my friend. I don't think you can be telling me to bundle up."
Neal's eyes darkened slightly, then he grinned. "I don't get sick," he said nonchalantly. "Lucky me."
"Yeah, now you're going to, just because you said that. Better knock on wood."
"I didn't think you were the superstitious type," Neal said.
"I'm not. Habits picked up from the masses." Mozzie shrugged. Neal grinned again.
"I see." The teen looked up ahead and Mozzie saw something akin to mischief in his blue eyes.
"Come with me." Neal grabbed Mozzie's arm and pulled him with him up the street. Mozzie yanked his arm away.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Not happening," he said. Neal crossed his arms.
"Remember that time I went to get ice cream with you? When we'd barely met?"
"Yes," Mozzie said cautiously.
"Well, if I did that, don't you think you can trust me enough to just follow me for a minute? Please?" Neal gave him a dazzling grin and Mozzie rolled his eyes.
"Your charms have won me over," Mozzie said drily. "Lead on."
Neal led Mozzie to a small restaurant that was tucked back into a corner of a lot. It was the sort of place you didn't really see unless you were looking for it. Neal smiled and walked him inside to sit down. "Okay, come sit here," Neal said with a small smile.
"Why are we here?" Mozzie asked, a slight whining edge to his tone as he sat. Neal gave him a look.
"Because you're sick, and they have the best chicken soup anywhere." Neal sat down across from Mozzie and waited for the waitress to come over.
"Neal, I haven't seen you here in a long time," the waitress said with a curious smile. Neal shrugged lightly, but Mozzie could see a weight behind it.
"I've been busy, I guess. We need two bowls of your traditional chicken soup and two orange juices, please," Neal asked politely. The waitress nodded.
"I'll have it out in a jiffy," she promised, walking away.
"You've been here before?" Mozzie asked. Neal got a slightly guarded look as he answered.
"When I was little my mom would bring me here when it was cold or one of us wasn't feeling too well. She can't cook to save her life, so we got soup here."
Mozzie wondered a bit at the when I was little part, but he just nodded. "It's nice."
"The food is even better," Neal promised. And it was. Mozzie was glad he'd agreed to come. The warm soup and sweet juice were just what he needed, and he felt a hundred times better when he was done. When he went to pay, Neal stopped him.
"I invited you, so I'm paying."
Mozzie gave him a look. With what money?
"I worked all last Saturday shoveling snow. I've got some." Neal was firm and Mozzie let him do as he wished. They walked back out into the street and Neal let out a sigh.
"Thanks," he said.
"I should be thanking you," Mozzie said.
Neal shrugged noncommittally. "I owed you one." He blinked in the half-darkness and held out his hand. Mozzie shook it with a smile.
"Well," Neal said, turning to go. "Feel better. I'll see you around."
"Bye." Mozzie stood for a moment, watching the slim frame dissolve beyond the street lamps, then walked out into the cold night.