Sorry it took me so long to update. I'd really hoped I could be quicker, but things kept getting in the way. Anyway, thanks for all the amazing reviews. I'm so glad you guys liked the use of Sam and Dean, I was worried using them. Resident of Wonderland I totally agree, but I needed some of that stuff to be said without using more Sam and Dean. Guest wonderful idea;) I'll defiantly use it in a future chapter. Hope you enjoy.
Disclaimer: I don't own White Collar :(
Peter was startled awake when he felt a pressure on his chest.
He peeled open his eyes and jumped when he saw a dark figure sitting on him.
In his defense he wasn't used to this yet, and he did just wake up, so when he slid his hand toward the gun he always keeps under his mattress he really didn't expect to see a blinding white smile.
He stared groggily at the figure for way longer than he should of had to before he connected the dots. Messy waves, check, blue eyes, check, Cheshire grin, check, which could only mean, "Neal?"
Little fingers wrapped around his hand and tugged.
Peter groaned and flicked on the lamp. "What's wrong?"
The boy smiled and jumped off the bed. When Peter sat up he ran over to the door frame and smiled again. Peter had the feeling of a mouse being lured into a trap, but got out of bed to follow anyway.
Neal walked through the doorway and over to the stairs. He stared at them for a second before lifting his foot to go down. Peter, seeing all the ways that could end badly, lifted him into the air, "Sorry buddy, no stairs for you."
The small boy huffed, but didn't say anything as Peter carried him down the stairs.
Once they reached the bottom Peter sat Neal down. A grin spread across the boys face as he ran into the kitchen with Peter on his tail.
Neal ran up to the fridge and jumped for the handle. When he came a couple inches short he tried again.
Peter stood watching until he guessed, "You're hungry."
Even three year old Caffery had mastered the no dip Sherlock look.
"Well, what do you want?" The small con made an adorable thinking face before he shrugged. Peter sighed, "You know this might be easier for the both of us if you would talk."
The boy hadn't said a single word since Sam and Dean left last night. Of course if it had been Neal... big Neal... then Peter would have praised the Lord. However, with small Neal... It was impossible to figure out what he wanted, and Peter had only been with him for 10 hours.
Granted Peter was awful with children, Neal was always the one who managed to make them laugh and giggle until they were no longer disturbing him or any other agents. Of course that wasn't much help now that Neal was the child.
He sighed again and dug through the fridge. "How about," he laughed to himself, "deviled ham?"
He turned to watch Neal's reaction, but he was no longer on the floor.
Peter's eyes slowly rose to meet shockingly blue ones. Somehow Neal had managed to climb up the counters, and was sitting on a shelf across from where Peter stood.
"How the hell..." He left the fridge open as he darted across the kitchen to Neal's perch.
He wrapped his hands around Neal's waist and gently lowered him back to the floor, "Let's not do that again. Okay, Neal?"
Little Caffery just cocked his head to the side and shrugged. Peter sighed and hung his head. No way was he going to make it through this and remain sane.
Peter looked back up, but once again Neal was gone. Peter ran a rough hand over his face and mumbled, "What did I do to deserve this at 3:00 in the morning."
He turned and began his search swinging the fridge shut on his way through.
He looked around while whisper yelling Neal's name.
After he'd searched the living room he walked back to the kitchen and did a 360°.
Just then Satchmo jumped on the door.
Peter quickly let the dog in, "How you get out... oh God."
He grabbed his jacket and ran out the door. "Neal? Neal! Come on buddy aren't you hungry."
Peter saw a flash of the blue pajamas El had bought for her niece right before a tiny three year old barreled into his leg.
As he packed Caffery back into the house he asked, "So you can't reach to open the fridge, but the door is no problem?"
He cast a glance to the boy and was met with a blinding smile. "Yeah, okay so what do you want."
Neal scrunched his face up in thought before deciding, "Pantakes."
It was adorable. There was simply no other way to put it.
Peter nodded and , this time not taking any chances, put Neal on his shoulders.
Neal squealed and giggled as Peter packed him around and made pancakes.
Peter thought maybe, just maybe, this wouldn't be as chaotic as he thought. Of course at that time El walked in to the sight of Neal with syrup all over his face and hands. Peter wasn't much better, plus there was the flour that coated the kitchen like a layer of dust. She squinted her eyes, was that a pancake on the ceiling, no if it was she defiantly did not want to know about it.
"Hey boys. What are you doing?" Peter guiltily raised his eyes to meet hers and shrugged. Neal however, ever the conman, smiled innocently and hopped off his stool.
Both the Burke's watched in curiosity as he pulled something out of a drawer.
He revealed a pancake that had chocolate chips in the shape of a heart and brought it to Elizabeth. As he rocked back on his heels he said, "Petew membered you like pantakes, so hes made you a secial won."
Elizabeth laughed and fluffed the boy's hair. She gave Peter a kiss and asked, "I've got to go in for work you think you can handle this for today?"
"Of course, umm... how long are you going to be gone?"
El laughed and replied, "A couple hours. Maybe you guys can go to the store. He's gonna need some things."
"Sure, can you make a list."
She nodded and looked to their feet, "Where's Neal?"
Peter instantly groaned and mumbled, "Not again."
His search began as Elizabeth got ready for work. "Neal, come on out. I'll give you," Peter looked around for something a three year old would like, "this car."
Peter didn't really think it would work. This was Neal Caffery they were talking about he didn't really seem like a hot wheels kinda guy, but sure enough here came Neal rolling out from under the couch. Peter just shook his head and handed the small car to Neal who smiled and plopped on the floor.
Peter, satisfied that Neal would stay put, went to clean up the kitchen.
He listened to Neal's vroom vroom sounds as he scraped pancake batter from impossible places.
Anytime the sounds faded he'd check to make sure Neal was still sitting in the living room floor.
Peter finished cleaning the kitchen at the same time that Elizabeth came down ready to head to work. She handed Peter the list and gave him a peck on the lips, "Bye hun. I laid out clothes for Neal on the bed."
He nodded, "Thanks hun."
She gave Caffery a kiss on the cheek on her way out. When she did a huge grin spread across his face, "Bye bye, Lisbeth."
You know how earlier Peter wished Neal would talk more. Yeah he took that back.
The kid didn't know how to hold his mouth shut. Overall, if it wasn't for the constant noise, Peter didn't mind that much. The way Neal slurred his words together was, he'd said before and he's gonna say it again, adorable.
So when Peter was brushing his teeth and Neal's incoherent mumblings stopped he quickly rinsed his mouth and darted back to his bedroom, where he'd left Neal. He found him laying on his stomach playing with the car Peter had given him earlier, but now it was no longer a car.
A few random pieces were rolling around the bed, but overall the former car looked a lot better.
When Peter gave it to Neal it was old and beat up. Something Peter played with as a kid and had been pulled out of the attic by who knows who.
Now though Neal had managed to bend and twist the metal to form the shape of a dog. The small dog was impossibly shiny and smooth. When Neal noticed Peter enter he smiled and held up the dog, "Doggy! Ruff ruff!"
Peter walked over and sat on the edge of the bed, "That's pretty good Neal who taught you how to do that?"
Confusion flashed over little Neal's feature, then Caffery's mask dropped into place. Even as a toddler he wasn't willing to trust Peter.
Peter nodded and picked up the small parts, unwilling to look at the small boy.
Neal tapped him on the shoulder and held the dog out to him, "For you... iss Sathhh... Sathhh..." His jaw tightened, "Sathh... its Mo" He nodded satisfied with himself for coming up with something he could pronounce.
Peter laughed and ruffled Neal's hair, "Alright we've got to get you ready." He took the metal dog and placed it on his nightstand.
He looked at the clothes El had laid out for Neal and couldn't help but chuckle. It was a pair of jeans that had seen better days and a blue shirt that had Thomas the Tank Engine on it. The small tennis shoes were just as bad as the jeans. Neal, big Neal, wouldn't be caught dead in it, and something told Peter little Neal wasn't gonna like it too much either.
•~•~•~•
Peter was right.
Neal hadn't said a word since he'd been put in the clothes.
On the drive to the store he'd sat in the back seat with his arms crossed over his chest. The pants and shoes fit well, the shirt however was too big. It had hung off his slim form and come to his knees. Peter had ended up tucking in the grumpy three year old's shirt, which only worsened his mood.
Now Peter was walking up and down aisles holding Neal's hand. The little boy's face was set in a scowl as he reluctantly followed.
So, when Peter let go to open up the freezer and get milk, it really shouldn't have surprised him to look down and not find Neal.
Peter had a flash back to their first case together, Neal, cigar in mouth, saying, "Maybe I'm not trying hard enough." Peter always knew if Neal hadn't wanted caught he wouldn't have been, but now seeing how easy it was for the clumsy three year old to disappear, he realized just how right he was.
Three year old, right, he'd just lost a three year old in a New York grocery store. Yeah, worst father ever.
He abandoned the cart and ran down the aisle looking for Neal.
When he found him he was standing towards the front talking to a woman, probably in her thirties.
He realized with a groan that the woman was giving Neal something. He quickly ran up and apologized. He turned to Neal, "Give it here."
A quarter was dropped in his hand by the boy and Peter turned back to the woman. He handed her the quarter, "I'm so sorry about that."
She smiled and laughed it off, "I understand." she chuckled, "I think you have your hands full."
Confused Peter asked, "What makes you say that?" "Well, first I gave him five quarters," Peter groaned he'd never even considered small Neal being able to do that, "Secondly," She pointed over his shoulder. Peter turned and watched in amazement as a man dropped a quarter in Neal's hand.
Neal looked up at Peter, waved, and took off around the corner.
Peter took off after him leaving behind the woman. When he found him Neal was on his tiptoes cranking one of those penny pressers, but this time it was with quarters.
Neal watched in fascination as a quarter dropped into the cup. His small hands scooped it up and he turned happily to show Peter.
Peter wasn't happy though, "Give me the quarter Neal." Neal's eyes narrowed and he shook his head no. Peter sighed, "Neal you can't take money from people, it's not right. Give me the quarter."
Peter, fully expecting Neal to run, took a step forward. He really must have misread the situation though because instead of shooting off, Neal popped the flattened quarter in his mouth and swallowed.
Peter's eyes widened, "Please tell me you didn't just swallow that."
Neal responded with a cough. "Oh God!" Peter quickly scooped up Neal and rushed to the car.
He was peeling out of the parking lot and to the hospital before anyone even registered that something had happened.
As he hit the breaks in front of the hospital he glanced at the red faced child. Neal hadn't stopped coughing the whole drive.
Peter carried Neal into the emergency room and straight to the desk.
A bored nurse looked up and her eyes widened at the sight of a small child, "Right this way sir."
Peter jogged into a room where a doctor was waiting. The doctor took Neal while asking, "What's he choking on."
Peter cleared his throat before he answered, "A uh quarter."
The doctor looked at Peter and shook his head.
A couple minutes later Peter and Neal were sitting side by side in uncomfortable chairs.
Neal was happily flipping a certain pressed quarter between his fingers, while Peter grumpily filled out paperwork.
So tell me what you think... I really hope I can update ok n, but I honestly have no clue.