A/N: Neal is 6 and Peter is 18.

Sweet Tooth

On Halloween, the neighborhood high school students shepherded the younger kids from house to house. Peter had five kids in his group, including six-year-old Neal.

Neal's mom had done a spectacular job with his costume. He was Cookie Monster from Sesame Street, and accompanying him was his dog, Cookie, who was dressed as a chocolate chip cookie. Most of the escorts wore costumes, too; Peter was dressed as a ghostbuster, inspired by this year's hit movie.

"Say thank you," Peter reminded his horde of trick-or-treaters. He repeated this at every house, because the kids got so excited by the candy that they tended to forget manners.

When it looked like the kids were getting tired of walking, he escorted them back to his own house. They dumped their haul on the kitchen table, and Peter grouped the candies quickly by type. Checking to see what each kid's likes and dislikes were, he sorted the candies into five piles — one for each kid.

"What's your favorite?" Neal asked.

Peter shrugged. "I've got a sweet tooth. I like them all."

Neal gestured toward his own pile. "Take one. I have enough."

The other kids followed suit, so Peter took one candy from each pile. "Thanks," he said, and he reached down to ruffle Neal's hair — which was visible behind the blue mask. "That was nice of you."

"It's important to be nice," Neal answered. "Aunt Ellen says so."

Peter wondered briefly how nice was too nice. Because it seemed like the kid had an eerie talent for noticing what people wanted and becoming whatever that was. When did you cross the line between being a well-behaved people-pleaser and a shapeshifter with no true identity?

He told himself he was getting carried away with Halloween stories. Shapeshifters! C'mon, this isn't some thriller movie about monsters. This is a little kid figuring out who he is. Let him try different roles to see what fit.

Peter walked the kids back to their homes. He dropped off Neal last, because he seemed the least frenzied about tearing into his candy.

As they strolled toward Neal's house, Peter said, "That's a great costume you've got."

"Same as last year," Neal said.

"Well, it's a classic."

"I hope I'm too big for it next year. I wanna be a cop."

Peter nodded. "Cookie could be your prisoner, dressed in black-and-white stripes."

"I wanna be a cop, like my dad."

"Oh. I didn't know he worked in law enforcement." It struck Peter now that no one ever talked about Mr. Parker. Was that odd?

"Mom never talks about him, but sometimes Aunt Ellen does. She doesn't say much, though." Neal sounded disgruntled. "And she said dressing like a cop would make Mom sad."

"I can see that." He had an idea that he hoped wasn't too much of a downer. "Your dad died, right? Before you moved here."

"Yeah." Neal looked up at him, expectantly.

"What if you dressed as a ghost? You could be your dad, but your mom wouldn't have to know. To her you'd just be a generic ghost."

"That could work," Neal said.

Later that week, Ellen dropped by the Burke home to return a tool she'd borrowed. "Thanks," she told Luke Burke. "I'm tempted to buy one of my own, but I just don't do that kind of project very often."

"You have a knack for it," Luke told her. "You're nearly as good as the pros I work with on my job sites."

He headed out to the garage, and Betty Burke offered Ellen a glass of lemonade.

"I'll never refuse," Ellen told her. "You make the best in the neighborhood."

"I know my strengths," Betty said. She was silent a moment as they sipped their beverages, and then she said, "And speaking of strengths, why don't you get an electrician's license? You're clearly good at it, and I always get the sense when you talk about your work that you aren't happy there."

"A desk job isn't my first choice," Ellen admitted. "But the same is true for Dahlia. I couldn't abandon her to face that alone each day."

"Why do both of you have to be unhappy?" Betty argued. "Maybe if you show her that there are other options, she'll start to look for her own path."

"I'll think about it," Ellen promised.

And she did. She couldn't get it out of her head.

Why couldn't she have a job that made her happy? She'd spent three years telling herself that her focus needed to be safety and survival, that life in the Witness Protection program was best if you didn't put down roots. She tried to keep Danny happy, of course. She'd do everything in her power to make sure he had a normal childhood.

She couldn't go back to being a cop. The Marshals had made that clear. But maybe she didn't need to stay in the job they'd arranged for her. Why not try something else?

For the first time in three years, she felt a sense of freedom.

A/N: Peter's puzzle-solving talents are at work, first in distributing the candy and then in trying to figure out Neal's situation. Describing Neal as a shapeshifter is inspired by Silbrith's stories.

I'm planning to post 4 chapters per week, on Sundays.