Details: Hello! I would like to take this time to apologize profusely for not getting you this sooner. Due to Hurricane Irene, my power at my house has been knocked out and the lines severely damaged. I feel horrible, so I am writing this on my brother's phone and posting it! Again, I am extremely sorry!

Summary: While working on a case involving a human trafficker, Peter gets and interesting surprise on his doorstep. The adventures of everyone's favorite con ~ child sized.

Disclaimer: White Collar and all of it's rights belong to the USA Network. I receive no monetary contributions for this piece, as it does not belong to me. Please do not pursue me on any legal charges due to the previous stated. Thank you for your cooperation.

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Fire torched the dusty, dead limb filled forest following the bombs eruption. A blast shook the dark earth, and blew the eardrums of the lucky two survivors spared from the inevitable. The acrid smell of scorched flesh hung over the woods tainting the usually fresh air, as the blaze claimed it's victims. A charred hand crash-landed near Peter's head, and he was careful to direct the child's attention elsewhere; the boy was scared enough.

Flames rose higher and higher, their hungry waves nipping at the treetops, igniting them in a red haze. Smoke swam throughout the night like an angry storm cloud of grey, filling their lungs and forcing them to cough. Peter had put his jacket over Neal's mouth and nose to ensure his well being. The boy already had an angry red scratch racing against his grimy forehead.

Peter kept his position crouched over Neal's small body, consoling the scared child. From his wild blue eyes came salty tears, forming tracks that criss crossed down his dirty cheeks, creating clear and pure lines of clean skin. His hair hung in matted clumps, soil and grass making guest appearances in his unkempt dark curls. His shirt was stained as well; Elle would have a field day attempting to remove all traces of the past hours with sweet smelling bleach and various cycles through the washer machine.

Neal huddled closer to Peter, his body forming a miniature ball in his lap. "I scaa-red." He whispered, voice coming out in mumbles through his wobbly swollen lip.

Peter pulled the kid closer to his chest, pressing the small head against his t-shirt in comfort. "I know, bud. Jones and Diana will be here soon. " He peeked his head over the small cliff, over which he had thrown himself to protect the vulnerable child. He could see nothing but the field ablaze. He ducked back down as the flames drew nearer. Peter hacked violently, the air made it harder to breathe.

The boy swiped away at his eyes, leaving tar stains under his eyes. He stretched his tiny arms around Peter. Peter rubbed his little back soothingly.

"Peter? Neal!" Jones shouted in the distance, his voice garbled.

"We here! We can't get through, the fire it too strong!" Peter shouted back, straightening up from behind his hiding spot.

"Fire department's on the way, can you hold on a few more minutes?" Diana called out, voice piercing through the wall of fire.

Neal picked his head up. " We Be okay Di-anna! Help soon!" He all but screamed.

Peter chucked, ruffling his messy curls. "We're going to be alright."

Neal searched Peter's brown eyes. "Do you wan I to tell you a st-ory?" He asked, eyes widening seriously.

Peter nodded. "Sure, what's it about?" He asked, settling Neal on his bent knee. He wiped his sweating brow.

"O-tay. It's about a nice k-nite named Sir Pe-er, and his friend je-ster Neal." He began, fiddling with the zipper on Peter's sweater, childishly.

"Well this sounds interesting. Why don't you tell me all about it." He said, putting his hand on Neal's shoulder.

"Once upoon a dime." He began voice strong and loud with excitement.

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"And they lived happy ever after, lafing and playing for-everrr!" He said voice droning on as he elongated the final 'r' for dramatic effect. His hands spread wide for a comparison. Peter bobbed his head understandingly. He clapped a little to humour the boy.

A dark haired nurse came with her tools to make Neal feel better. She tickled his tummy smiling broadly, earning several giggles from the boy. He feebly child to push the latex gloved hand away, failing miserably. Soon both were laughing, and Peter couldn't resist the child's beautiful laugh; it was contagious.

Peter and Neal were sitting in the back of an ambulance, getting cleaned up from their adventure "chasing bad guys" and Neal called it. The tears had been long gone and replaced by happy smiles and laughter.

Peter had already been cleared, with a simple sprained ankle and a few cuts and bruises, he would be fine in a few short days. Neal, on the other hand, had a nasty gash running across his face, and it needed more attention.

The boy shut his eyes firmly and squeezed Peter's strong hand hard as the lady nurse rubbed antiseptic over his long wound with a Qu-tip. She then placed purple gooish substance over it to ensure that it wouldn't re-open and become infected. She wiped his face off with a sterilized antibacterial wipe, and planted a kiss on his forehead and offered him a lime green lollipop from her pocket.

"What do you say bud?" Peter said, paternally, patting his boy's arm.

"Well, I like blue better." Neal said, studying the packaged treat.

"Neal!" Peter scolded, with a look on his face. He forced himself not to smile at Neal's blunt acknowledgement.

"I no lie!" Neal said, handing the sucker back to the nurse.

She laughed, grinning widely as she produced a blue pop from the bin in the back. She bowed as she presented it to the boy. "As you wish, Mr. Caffrey."

Peter apologized, but she shook it off replying, "Your son is just fine, he has to be my favourite patient of the day. He deserves it, and I don't mind a little sass." She laughed again. "He reminds me of my own son." She hopped back into the vehicle waving at the pair. "Y'all have a good night, and take it easy. I don't want to see either of you back in my ambulance any time soon."

Both boys waved back and called out their goodbyes.

Neal unwrapped his sweet, and put it into his mouth happily. He smiled, the lollipop nearly fell from his clenched jaws.

Peter chuckled. "Let's go home, buddy. Elle's waiting." He said, scooping up the child into his arms. "You did good today bud! I am proud of you for being brave." He planted a large, sloppy kiss on his forehead.

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Again, my apologies.

I will try to get another one in soon, but I am not sure for how much longer I will be in the dark. SO fingers crossed for light! :)

PLEASE Review! :))))