White Collar Fic: Take Me Out to the Ballgame
Title: Take Me Out to the Ballgame
Author: dennih23
Rating: G
Characters: Peter, El and Neal Burke
Word Count: 1460
Disclaimer: Not mine, White Collar belongs to Jeff Eastin
No beta on this one, all mistakes belong to me.
A/N: A much belated birthday present for Aragarna
Peter woke feeling disoriented; his bed was shaking. He briefly considered that they were having a small earthquake. He opened his eyes to find his son jumping up and down on his mattress. Before he could tell Neal to stop, his son pounced on top of him, “Daddy, you’re finally awake. I thought you were going to sleep all day.” Did he oversleep? His son was wide awake and already dressed in a pair of blue jeans and a Yankees t-shirt. Glancing over at the clock Peter noticed that it was only 7:45am.
“Neal, how long have you been up?”
His son continued to bounce on the bed, obviously filled with lots of energy, “It seems like forever. I got up and was getting dressed when Mommy heard me. She helped me finish getting dressed and then we went downstairs. Mommy had tea and I had a cup of hot chocolate. I wanted to wake you up, but she said to let you sleep.”
Peter heard laughter coming from the doorway and looked up to see his beautiful wife standing there. A hint of mischief was in her eyes as she walked over to their bed. She leaned over and gave him a peck on the cheek.
“Good morning hon.”
He grinned back and pulled her in for a hug, “Good morning to you too. How long have you guys been awake?”
“Slightly over an hour. Your son was up at 6:30am.”
Neal looked up at his mom, jumped off the bed, and grabbed her hand. “Mommy we should go and get breakfast ready for Daddy. He needs to hurry up and get dressed. We’re going to be late.”
El picked up the squirming boy, “Sweetie, you’re not going to be late. You’ve got plenty of time before the game starts.”
Neal sighed, “But I want to go now. Daddy promised to take me to the place with all the old baseball stuff first.”
Peter swung his long legs over the side of the bed, “It’s called a museum, and yes we’ll go there first. It’s too early, we have to wait until they open.”
His little man looked over at him, a small frown on his face. Peter got up and ruffled his son’s hair, “Don’t worry, I promise we won’t be late. I’m going to take a shower and then we can take Mommy out for breakfast. Does that sound okay?”
El set Neal down, “Hey Pumpkin, let’s take Satch for a walk while Daddy gets ready to go.”
Neal tilted his head, thinking. Finally he spoke, “If I help walk Satchmo, can I have pancakes with chocolate chips for breakfast?”
“Okay, pancakes it is. Now scoot mister, your Dad needs to take a shower.” El patted her son’s bottom as they headed out the bedroom door.
Peter showered, shaved, and dressed in blue jeans and a Henley. He sauntered down the stairs to find his son sitting at the kitchen table waiting for him. The three Burkes piled into the car and headed off to the small diner they frequented.
Lois was their waitress this morning. She was Neal’s favorite, and she greeted him with a big embrace and took their orders. Neal ordered his pancakes, while El ordered a garden omelet, and Peter had a ham and cheese omelet. As soon as the plate was set in front of Neal, he gobbled down the food and looked up at his parents.
“Hurry up Daddy, we’re going to be late.” Neal whined. He shifted in this chair, his small legs swinging back and forth. He continued to bounce in his seat until Peter and El finished eating. Peter drove El back home before he and Neal headed to Yankee Stadium. His son was could barely sit still during the trip to the ballpark.
He had scarcely hardly parked the car when Neal managed to wiggle himself out of his car seat. Neal practically dragged Peter out of the car, “Come on Daddy, let’s go.”
Peter allowed himself to be pulled through the museum. They stopped at each display and he looked on as his son stared, wide-eyed at the all the old baseballs, bats, and news articles. He knew his son was too young to really understand what he was seeing, but Neal was amazed by everything he saw.
After answering a barrage of questions from Neal, they began their journey to their seats. The tickets had been a father’s day present from Uncle Neal, and Peter had to admit he was impressed they would be sitting behind home plate. He secretly hoped the tickets were gotten legitimately; he hated the idea of explaining Uncle Neal’s crimes to his son.
Neal was holding Peter’s hand as they headed down the steps to their section where they would be sitting. Suddenly Neal let go and ran ahead, shrieking, “Uncle Neal! Uncle Mozzie!”
Peter looked up to see that little Neal’s two honorary uncles were there already in the grips of his son’s famous bear hugs. Both men smiled at Peter before Uncle Neal handed him a beer.
“Hope you don’t mind us joining you.” Peter could tell Neal was a little apprehensive about their unexpected appearance at the game.
“Not at all, the more the merrier.” Peter looked down at his son, “Right Tiger.”
Neal was too busy to even pay attention to his father. He was sitting next to Mozzie who was busy adjusting a brand new ball cap on top of his son’s head. Peter could only smile, he knew how much little Neal meant to both men. He didn’t even mind how much they both tended to spoil his son.
As the game started the first vendor came around selling hotdogs. Peter purchased hotdogs for the group. He was slightly surprised when even Mozzie ate one. Neal was busy asking all kinds of questions and both Peter and Mozzie took turns answering his questions. Peter was impressed Moz knew so much about baseball. Moz even showed Neal how to score the game.
At the start of the second inning Neal begged for a soda. In the third inning it was a pretzel and then cotton candy in the fourth inning. Peter wondered just how much food his son could eat.
Peter missed the fifth inning when the soda caught up with Neal and they had to go find a restroom. When they returned to their seats it was the start of the sixth inning and there was a helmet filled with nachos waiting for them. Peter looked over at Uncle Neal who just shrugged and rolled his eyes.
There were more treats as the game progressed and Peter was sure El was going to be upset with him for letting Neal eat so much. It was popcorn in the seventh inning, then peanuts during the eighth inning, and finally they shared a sundae during the last inning.
As they headed out of the ballpark, Mozzie stopped to purchase little Neal a Yankee pennant, and Peter bought him a new t-shirt. His son was grinning ear to ear while tightly holding his stash.
Neal and Mozzie accepted the offer of a ride back to June’s and soon they were on their way. Little Neal was busy talking about everything that happened during the game and kept the three men entertained. He talked about seeing a home run, about the opposing pitcher striking out his favorite player, to the display of autographed baseballs in the museum.
The baseball talk continued the entire drive to Neal’s apartment. They pulled in front of the house on Riverfront Drive and little Neal gave both his uncles hugs and thanked them for coming to the game. Peter thanked Mozzie for coming to the game and reminded Neal they had a big case on Monday and not to be late for work. Neal nodded and waved his acknowledgement.
Peter pulled back into traffic and headed for Brooklyn. He’d driven about four blocks when he realized he hadn’t heard anything from the back seat. He turned and saw his son had his eyes closed and was sound asleep.
Arriving back in Brooklyn he found a spot in front of their home. Carefully he unbuckled his son from his car seat and carried him inside. Peter hushed Satchmo and headed up the stairs. El met him in Neal’s room. Between the two of them they got Neal into his pajamas and tucked into bed without waking him. Both parents kissed their son goodnight.
Hand in hand Peter and El walked to their bedroom. Peter leaned down and kissed his wife. “I love you”, he whispered.
“I love you too Hon. Did you have a good time at the game?”
Peter nodded, “Best game ever.”
Thanks for reading - hope you enjoyed this little bit of fluff.
Crossposted at AO3
Author: dennih23
Rating: G
Characters: Peter, El and Neal Burke
Word Count: 1460
Disclaimer: Not mine, White Collar belongs to Jeff Eastin
No beta on this one, all mistakes belong to me.
A/N: A much belated birthday present for Aragarna
Peter woke feeling disoriented; his bed was shaking. He briefly considered that they were having a small earthquake. He opened his eyes to find his son jumping up and down on his mattress. Before he could tell Neal to stop, his son pounced on top of him, “Daddy, you’re finally awake. I thought you were going to sleep all day.” Did he oversleep? His son was wide awake and already dressed in a pair of blue jeans and a Yankees t-shirt. Glancing over at the clock Peter noticed that it was only 7:45am.
“Neal, how long have you been up?”
His son continued to bounce on the bed, obviously filled with lots of energy, “It seems like forever. I got up and was getting dressed when Mommy heard me. She helped me finish getting dressed and then we went downstairs. Mommy had tea and I had a cup of hot chocolate. I wanted to wake you up, but she said to let you sleep.”
Peter heard laughter coming from the doorway and looked up to see his beautiful wife standing there. A hint of mischief was in her eyes as she walked over to their bed. She leaned over and gave him a peck on the cheek.
“Good morning hon.”
He grinned back and pulled her in for a hug, “Good morning to you too. How long have you guys been awake?”
“Slightly over an hour. Your son was up at 6:30am.”
Neal looked up at his mom, jumped off the bed, and grabbed her hand. “Mommy we should go and get breakfast ready for Daddy. He needs to hurry up and get dressed. We’re going to be late.”
El picked up the squirming boy, “Sweetie, you’re not going to be late. You’ve got plenty of time before the game starts.”
Neal sighed, “But I want to go now. Daddy promised to take me to the place with all the old baseball stuff first.”
Peter swung his long legs over the side of the bed, “It’s called a museum, and yes we’ll go there first. It’s too early, we have to wait until they open.”
His little man looked over at him, a small frown on his face. Peter got up and ruffled his son’s hair, “Don’t worry, I promise we won’t be late. I’m going to take a shower and then we can take Mommy out for breakfast. Does that sound okay?”
El set Neal down, “Hey Pumpkin, let’s take Satch for a walk while Daddy gets ready to go.”
Neal tilted his head, thinking. Finally he spoke, “If I help walk Satchmo, can I have pancakes with chocolate chips for breakfast?”
“Okay, pancakes it is. Now scoot mister, your Dad needs to take a shower.” El patted her son’s bottom as they headed out the bedroom door.
Peter showered, shaved, and dressed in blue jeans and a Henley. He sauntered down the stairs to find his son sitting at the kitchen table waiting for him. The three Burkes piled into the car and headed off to the small diner they frequented.
Lois was their waitress this morning. She was Neal’s favorite, and she greeted him with a big embrace and took their orders. Neal ordered his pancakes, while El ordered a garden omelet, and Peter had a ham and cheese omelet. As soon as the plate was set in front of Neal, he gobbled down the food and looked up at his parents.
“Hurry up Daddy, we’re going to be late.” Neal whined. He shifted in this chair, his small legs swinging back and forth. He continued to bounce in his seat until Peter and El finished eating. Peter drove El back home before he and Neal headed to Yankee Stadium. His son was could barely sit still during the trip to the ballpark.
He had scarcely hardly parked the car when Neal managed to wiggle himself out of his car seat. Neal practically dragged Peter out of the car, “Come on Daddy, let’s go.”
Peter allowed himself to be pulled through the museum. They stopped at each display and he looked on as his son stared, wide-eyed at the all the old baseballs, bats, and news articles. He knew his son was too young to really understand what he was seeing, but Neal was amazed by everything he saw.
After answering a barrage of questions from Neal, they began their journey to their seats. The tickets had been a father’s day present from Uncle Neal, and Peter had to admit he was impressed they would be sitting behind home plate. He secretly hoped the tickets were gotten legitimately; he hated the idea of explaining Uncle Neal’s crimes to his son.
Neal was holding Peter’s hand as they headed down the steps to their section where they would be sitting. Suddenly Neal let go and ran ahead, shrieking, “Uncle Neal! Uncle Mozzie!”
Peter looked up to see that little Neal’s two honorary uncles were there already in the grips of his son’s famous bear hugs. Both men smiled at Peter before Uncle Neal handed him a beer.
“Hope you don’t mind us joining you.” Peter could tell Neal was a little apprehensive about their unexpected appearance at the game.
“Not at all, the more the merrier.” Peter looked down at his son, “Right Tiger.”
Neal was too busy to even pay attention to his father. He was sitting next to Mozzie who was busy adjusting a brand new ball cap on top of his son’s head. Peter could only smile, he knew how much little Neal meant to both men. He didn’t even mind how much they both tended to spoil his son.
As the game started the first vendor came around selling hotdogs. Peter purchased hotdogs for the group. He was slightly surprised when even Mozzie ate one. Neal was busy asking all kinds of questions and both Peter and Mozzie took turns answering his questions. Peter was impressed Moz knew so much about baseball. Moz even showed Neal how to score the game.
At the start of the second inning Neal begged for a soda. In the third inning it was a pretzel and then cotton candy in the fourth inning. Peter wondered just how much food his son could eat.
Peter missed the fifth inning when the soda caught up with Neal and they had to go find a restroom. When they returned to their seats it was the start of the sixth inning and there was a helmet filled with nachos waiting for them. Peter looked over at Uncle Neal who just shrugged and rolled his eyes.
There were more treats as the game progressed and Peter was sure El was going to be upset with him for letting Neal eat so much. It was popcorn in the seventh inning, then peanuts during the eighth inning, and finally they shared a sundae during the last inning.
As they headed out of the ballpark, Mozzie stopped to purchase little Neal a Yankee pennant, and Peter bought him a new t-shirt. His son was grinning ear to ear while tightly holding his stash.
Neal and Mozzie accepted the offer of a ride back to June’s and soon they were on their way. Little Neal was busy talking about everything that happened during the game and kept the three men entertained. He talked about seeing a home run, about the opposing pitcher striking out his favorite player, to the display of autographed baseballs in the museum.
The baseball talk continued the entire drive to Neal’s apartment. They pulled in front of the house on Riverfront Drive and little Neal gave both his uncles hugs and thanked them for coming to the game. Peter thanked Mozzie for coming to the game and reminded Neal they had a big case on Monday and not to be late for work. Neal nodded and waved his acknowledgement.
Peter pulled back into traffic and headed for Brooklyn. He’d driven about four blocks when he realized he hadn’t heard anything from the back seat. He turned and saw his son had his eyes closed and was sound asleep.
Arriving back in Brooklyn he found a spot in front of their home. Carefully he unbuckled his son from his car seat and carried him inside. Peter hushed Satchmo and headed up the stairs. El met him in Neal’s room. Between the two of them they got Neal into his pajamas and tucked into bed without waking him. Both parents kissed their son goodnight.
Hand in hand Peter and El walked to their bedroom. Peter leaned down and kissed his wife. “I love you”, he whispered.
“I love you too Hon. Did you have a good time at the game?”
Peter nodded, “Best game ever.”
Thanks for reading - hope you enjoyed this little bit of fluff.
Crossposted at AO3