Details: I am so sorry that it took so long to update! But tryouts are going great, and today my Marine brothers and I did a 10K, and it was fun! :)

Summary: While working on a case involving a human trafficker, Peter gets and unexpected surprise on his door step. The adventures of everyone's favorite con, fun sized.

Disclaimer: Not mine.

PLEASE: R&R :)))))

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As soon as Diana had pulled her cell phone from her pocket, Peter burst through the already cracked window, adrenaline and fear pulsing through his veins, waking him up like a double shot of expresso and a red-bull. He landed on the neatly trimmed green grass one story below with surprising grace, and streaked across the street lamp illuminated courtyard, peering behind bushes, and into draining systems. A blood dribbled down the side of his face from his stinging forehead, slightly obscuring his vision from the street. Peter blinked six times, his sight reappearing as he scanned the dimly lit area.

Broken bits of window pane spattered haphazardly across his grey jacket sleeve. They were quickly brushed aside as he reached in the holster for his Glock. He pulled it out and cocked it, preparing for invisible enemies. He sprinted, breath coming out in short puffs, towards the darkened parking lot partially filled with automobiles. His eyes scanned the parking lot, looking for the tell-tale signs of abduction. He found the area emptied of people, except for a few nurses on smoke-break.

He pulled his badge from his pocket and put his weapon away. "Have you seen a little boy, curly brown hair, deep blue eyes, around two years old?" He asked the orderlies.

One of them tossed their smoking cigarette to the pavement, and squashed it with her black orthopedic shoe. She crossed her arms over her rumpled blue scrubs. She looked Peter square in the eye with electrifyingly green irises."No sir I have not." She said, pulling her green shrug around her shoulders tighter, shivering against the chilly night air.

He turned to the other one, hopeful for an answer, but she simply shook her mess of black curls. "I'm sorry, Agent." She said, her voice low and raspy from years of smoke induced lung damage. She coughed, a painful rattle that emerged from behind blackened teeth. The women watched Agent Burke curiously.

He breathed in and out through his nose a few times, chest feeling as though it had been filled lead. He nodded quickly, and thanked the women.

He walked away from the group and towards a thick, black lamppost. Bathed in it's yellowed glow, Peter sighed, shutting his eyes and exhaling slowly, body sagging in exhaustion against it's durable support.. He rubbed his brow in resignation, mopping the sweat from his warm forehead with the cuff of his shirt..He took out his cell phone, squinting to make out the faintly glowing numbers. He punched in the correct digits, and dialed Diana.

"No sight of our kidnapper, but I am going to canvas the parking lot and the garage, and check for skid marks and prints." He spoke gruffly. He leaned heavily on the pole, fatigue and grief overtaking him. "Our main goal is to find and locate this bastard, and more importantly Neal. We need him home, safe and sound." He said, his voice soft with emotion. "Get Jones and the team over here as soon as possible. This guy might still be on the premises. Shut it down. No one gets in or out." He said, his tone oozing with authority.

"You got it boss. He will be home in not time." She responded, her phone shutting with a click.

Peter pocket his phone once again, and began swiftly walking towards the concrete building. He nearly tripped on an unknown object in the darkness. He cursed bitterly, and bent down to inspect the object. Taking a tissue from his coat pocket, he picked it up gingerly with two fingers, bringing it in for closer view.

It was a yellow stuffed lab puppy, its coat stained with blood.

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Neal's head felt funny.

He had woken up an hour ago to find himself sitting on a ratty blue quilt, jolted from his sleep due to his back aching from lying on the uncomfortable concrete beneath the blanket, and surrounded by dirtied and somewhat white pillows. He patted his head to make sure nothing was missing. He was thankful that his head was still there, yet wasn't fond of it's pain. He had quickly patted down the other parts of his body, finding only a cut marring his knee cap, from where he fell when the mean man dragged him away. A shiver went down his spine at the memory.

He sat up, and looked around, tiny blue orbs inspecting his room. It's walls were a grey colour, not a pretty shade like the one Peter had been wearing this morning, he noted. It had been sloppily painted, and was cracked in some places. It reeked of cigar smoke and another unidentifiable musty odor. He wrinkled his tiny nose, taken aback by the dreadful smells of the air.

There were no windows, which Neal didn't like, for he liked his sunshine and watching the birds fly in different patterns. He smiled to himself, remembering how Peter had promised that the two of them would go to the park that evening. He was saddened by the fact that they might not be able to accomplish this fun activity. He sighed, and flopped back down onto his pillows, entertaining himself with the draw sting on his hospital issued pants.

He missed his Satch-a-mo, and wished he could be sitting faithfully beside him to keep him company. At least then Neal would have someone to speak to and to keep him safe from the creepy men. He decided that he would talk aloud, about whatever he wanted. Eventually he came to reciting Elizabeth's story from when he was ill. He remembered the knight Peter Burks-a-lot and jester Neal. He like the story very much, and told it three times.

There were strange noises escalating from beyond the black door. Neal quickly grabbed a pillow and his buried face beneath it, suddenly afraid of unspeakable dangers. He heard footsteps pounding towards him, and shuddered in fear. The pillow was abruptly yanked away from him, and Neal was faced with a man dressed casually in jeans and a black t-shirt. His face seemed partially angry and annoyed.

"Where Pe-er?" Neal squeaked, fist closing around another pillow, drawing it to his small frame.

The man smile cruelly. "He is not here right now, Neal." His voice whispered, eeirly. From behind his back he pulled a plush elephant and showed it to Neal.

Neal took it with caution, afraid that it would hurt him in some way. "Tank you." He mumbled, eyeing the toy sitting in front of him. Silence passed between them.

"I wan Pe-er." He said, firmly, tears filling his blue eyes. "Where is him?"

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