Fic: The Kids are All Right
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1,363
Disclaimer: Heroes characters belong to Tim Kring.
A/N: For the Plaude Bingo prompt "meeting the parents." Also for englishmuffin2 on my advent calendar.
Summary: Wow, okay, well, to start with it's a sequel to What to Expect, which means it's a White Collar crossover, assuming that Neal gets born in the present, and then some Heroes-style shenanigans when he's twelve/thirteen cause him to get trapped back in time in 1994 or thereabouts, where he learns the con artist trade to survive, moving up to thievery and forgery while he waits for the day he can reunite with his parents. Okay, everyone clear? Sure you are. Let's press on!
Neal sits at his desk in department headquarters, looking at a piece of loose leaf paper held in his hands. The paper is deeply creased with repeated folds and almost translucent with age. Neal holds it like a particularly fragile work of art, expression unreadable. After several long minutes, he sighs and stands, heading up the stairs to Agent Burke’s office.
“Hey, Peter, can I talk to you for a sec?”
“Sure, have a seat.” Peter watches Neal carefully, already sensing the change in the other man’s demeanor.
Neal sits. He still holds the paper in his right hand. “Uh...” his eyes dart around the office, and a smile flashes across his face, “Yeah, just as I suspected, this is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to explain.”
Peter frowns, “Neal, what did you do?”
“Nothing! Nothing. It’s just... well, my parents are coming into town.” It comes out in a rush, leaving Peter blinking.
“Your parents?” he asks in wonder, “I thought you were grown in a lab or something.”
Neal lets out a weak laugh, “Yeah... yeah. Well, uh, the thing is... I’m meeting them outside my radius.”
“And you can’t just arrange to meet them somewhere inside the radius?”
Neal sighs, sending a frustrated glare into the middle distance. “No, it... it has to be at that place. Nowhere else.”
“Okay... should I bother asking why?”
Neal’s eyes have never reminded Peter more of the wide, blank, old sky as he looks at him. “Listen, Peter. Someday I will explain it all to you. And you won’t believe me, but it’ll be the truth.”
“... You’re starting to freak me out a little.”
Neal stands, pulling Peter’s coat off the rack it hangs from and tossing it to him. “Save it for later. Trust me, you’ll need it.”
“Wait, we’re going now?”
Neal blinks at him, “Yeah, you busy?”
Peter’s mouth twists in a frown that hides a smile. As if he would give up a chance to meet Neal’s folks, as the con man knows perfectly well. “Lemme call the marshals.”
Neal grins, “Cheers.”
***
They stand in a small park in a not particularly nice part of town. Peter’s starting to get antsy, “What is this, a spy novel? Is Mozzie gonna wander by in a big hat and sunglasses and talk in riddles at me?”
Neal folds the piece of loose leaf paper and tucks it into his pocket, “Relax, Peter. They’ll be here any moment.”
Peter turns to him and inhales to ask how he knows, when surprise forces the air back out in a gasp. Two men who weren’t there before now stand behind Neal. Peter lifts a hand to point at them, and Neal catches the gesture and his expression. His face lights up and he spins around, all but leaping into the strangers’ arms.
Confusion floods Peter’s mind as he views the reunion. It takes him about three seconds to see that the two men hugging his CI tight are nowhere near old enough to have raised Neal. The shorter one can’t be more than a handful of years older than Peter himself, while the taller one... well, maybe, but he would’ve been one hell of a young father.
Eventually Neal pulls away with a happy sigh, “So, how are you two? Must’ve been about an hour since you saw me last.”
The taller man rolls very familiar eyes and says in an unfamiliar accent, “You know you say that every time. Hasn’t been funny yet.”
Neal squeezes his shoulder, “I’ll get you one of these days, you old grouch.”
“How are you doing?” the shorter one says, “It has to have been a while for you.” Sorrow drifts over his face.
“I’m okay. I- uh...” He shifts awkwardly, and Peter can’t help a grin to see the child before his parents. Because, whatever else they may be, these men are his parents. It’s plain as day. “I kinda... I spent some time... I was in prison.”
The younger father looks stricken, “Prison?! Neal!”
Neal holds up his hands, “Don’t freak out! I got out- well, actually I escaped, but then...”
It’s too late though, as his father turns and walks a few steps away, arms raised around the level of his ears as if Neal’s words physically hurt him.
“That’s him not freaking out,” the older man remarks. He folds his arms, “So, you escaped. Then what? It have something to do with your very confused associate back there?”
Peter barely has time to feel surprise at being addressed before Neal is pulling him forward with two hands around his bicep. “Yeah, yeah. Dad, this is Peter Burke. Agent Peter Burke. We’re partners.”
Neal’s dad lifts an eyebrow.
“No, no, not like that,” Neal says hurriedly, “We work together. At the FBI. That’s where I work now, I was about to say,” he calls over to his other father. “We fight crime.”
Peter tries to stifle an amused grin when Neal’s dad fixes a piercing gaze on him. “That so?”
“Yes- yes, sir, it is. Neal’s been invaluable to the team.”
Neal’s other father appears next to his dad, all big dark eyes and worry. “Is he?”
“Absolutely. Our close rate has been higher since he got involved than it’s been in the last three years.”
“See, Pa?” Neal says, “I’m... I’m all done with that stuff now.”
His dad rolls his eyes again, “We heard that this morning, Neal.”
Peter feels Neal stiffen, “Yeah, well, this morning was a long time ago, for me.”
His dad looks chastised, sorrow again fills his pa’s face. There’s a heavy air of guilt cast over the scene that Peter knows he can’t hope to explain.
Neal sighs, “Look, I know you aren’t around for long this time. Let’s not... ruin things. Come on, we’ll go have lunch.”
They find a diner a few blocks away, and Neal fills his parents in on what sounds like the last five years of his life. Why this is necessary, Peter has no idea. Every so often he’s called on to verify a detail or elaborate on an anecdote (both men look impressed and pleased to hear about his years-long pursuit and eventual capture of Neal), but he knows this isn’t about him. Neal talks about Kate, and what happened, and while it’s clear Neal’s parents weren’t big fans of her, they keep it to themselves, only holding Neal’s hands and hugging him when grief steals his voice.
Their leisurely lunch inevitably comes to an end. On the way back to the park Neal keeps an arm around each parent. Peter is content to bring up the rear. Neal gives his dad and his pa one long hug each before stepping back to Peter’s side.
“So,” his pa says, “When will we see you again?”
Neal pulls the piece of loose leaf out of his pocket. “It says ‘Sunday, July third, 2011. 7:13pm. Central Park, Bethesda Fountain. Hey, maybe you can stick around for the Fourth.”
His pa has taken out a piece of loose leaf paper himself, and seems to be recording what Neal has said. “I dunno, you feel like hot dogs, Claude?”
His dad shrugs, “Could do, Pete, could do.” He winks at Neal.
“Okay, it’s a date,” Neal says. Peter can’t see his smile, but he can hear it.
Pete takes Claude’s hand, and says to Neal, “We’ll be right there.” He looks to Peter, “Agent Burke, it was great meeting you. Take care of each other. See you in summer.”
“Bye,” Neal says. Peter waves.
Then they vanish. Into thin air. Peter squeezes his eyes shut and opens them, but the impossible stubbornly continues to have happened. He jumps when Neal slaps a hand on his back.
“Do you want me to try that explanation now?”
Peter considers. “I... I think I can wait, actually. If that’s all right.”
Neal pats his back, “Wise choice. You’ll only give yourself a headache.”
They walk back to Peter’s car, and the agent can’t help feeling like the more he gets to know Neal, the more mysterious he, and somehow the rest of the world, becomes.
Word Count: 1,363
Disclaimer: Heroes characters belong to Tim Kring.
A/N: For the Plaude Bingo prompt "meeting the parents." Also for englishmuffin2 on my advent calendar.
Summary: Wow, okay, well, to start with it's a sequel to What to Expect, which means it's a White Collar crossover, assuming that Neal gets born in the present, and then some Heroes-style shenanigans when he's twelve/thirteen cause him to get trapped back in time in 1994 or thereabouts, where he learns the con artist trade to survive, moving up to thievery and forgery while he waits for the day he can reunite with his parents. Okay, everyone clear? Sure you are. Let's press on!
Neal sits at his desk in department headquarters, looking at a piece of loose leaf paper held in his hands. The paper is deeply creased with repeated folds and almost translucent with age. Neal holds it like a particularly fragile work of art, expression unreadable. After several long minutes, he sighs and stands, heading up the stairs to Agent Burke’s office.
“Hey, Peter, can I talk to you for a sec?”
“Sure, have a seat.” Peter watches Neal carefully, already sensing the change in the other man’s demeanor.
Neal sits. He still holds the paper in his right hand. “Uh...” his eyes dart around the office, and a smile flashes across his face, “Yeah, just as I suspected, this is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to explain.”
Peter frowns, “Neal, what did you do?”
“Nothing! Nothing. It’s just... well, my parents are coming into town.” It comes out in a rush, leaving Peter blinking.
“Your parents?” he asks in wonder, “I thought you were grown in a lab or something.”
Neal lets out a weak laugh, “Yeah... yeah. Well, uh, the thing is... I’m meeting them outside my radius.”
“And you can’t just arrange to meet them somewhere inside the radius?”
Neal sighs, sending a frustrated glare into the middle distance. “No, it... it has to be at that place. Nowhere else.”
“Okay... should I bother asking why?”
Neal’s eyes have never reminded Peter more of the wide, blank, old sky as he looks at him. “Listen, Peter. Someday I will explain it all to you. And you won’t believe me, but it’ll be the truth.”
“... You’re starting to freak me out a little.”
Neal stands, pulling Peter’s coat off the rack it hangs from and tossing it to him. “Save it for later. Trust me, you’ll need it.”
“Wait, we’re going now?”
Neal blinks at him, “Yeah, you busy?”
Peter’s mouth twists in a frown that hides a smile. As if he would give up a chance to meet Neal’s folks, as the con man knows perfectly well. “Lemme call the marshals.”
Neal grins, “Cheers.”
***
They stand in a small park in a not particularly nice part of town. Peter’s starting to get antsy, “What is this, a spy novel? Is Mozzie gonna wander by in a big hat and sunglasses and talk in riddles at me?”
Neal folds the piece of loose leaf paper and tucks it into his pocket, “Relax, Peter. They’ll be here any moment.”
Peter turns to him and inhales to ask how he knows, when surprise forces the air back out in a gasp. Two men who weren’t there before now stand behind Neal. Peter lifts a hand to point at them, and Neal catches the gesture and his expression. His face lights up and he spins around, all but leaping into the strangers’ arms.
Confusion floods Peter’s mind as he views the reunion. It takes him about three seconds to see that the two men hugging his CI tight are nowhere near old enough to have raised Neal. The shorter one can’t be more than a handful of years older than Peter himself, while the taller one... well, maybe, but he would’ve been one hell of a young father.
Eventually Neal pulls away with a happy sigh, “So, how are you two? Must’ve been about an hour since you saw me last.”
The taller man rolls very familiar eyes and says in an unfamiliar accent, “You know you say that every time. Hasn’t been funny yet.”
Neal squeezes his shoulder, “I’ll get you one of these days, you old grouch.”
“How are you doing?” the shorter one says, “It has to have been a while for you.” Sorrow drifts over his face.
“I’m okay. I- uh...” He shifts awkwardly, and Peter can’t help a grin to see the child before his parents. Because, whatever else they may be, these men are his parents. It’s plain as day. “I kinda... I spent some time... I was in prison.”
The younger father looks stricken, “Prison?! Neal!”
Neal holds up his hands, “Don’t freak out! I got out- well, actually I escaped, but then...”
It’s too late though, as his father turns and walks a few steps away, arms raised around the level of his ears as if Neal’s words physically hurt him.
“That’s him not freaking out,” the older man remarks. He folds his arms, “So, you escaped. Then what? It have something to do with your very confused associate back there?”
Peter barely has time to feel surprise at being addressed before Neal is pulling him forward with two hands around his bicep. “Yeah, yeah. Dad, this is Peter Burke. Agent Peter Burke. We’re partners.”
Neal’s dad lifts an eyebrow.
“No, no, not like that,” Neal says hurriedly, “We work together. At the FBI. That’s where I work now, I was about to say,” he calls over to his other father. “We fight crime.”
Peter tries to stifle an amused grin when Neal’s dad fixes a piercing gaze on him. “That so?”
“Yes- yes, sir, it is. Neal’s been invaluable to the team.”
Neal’s other father appears next to his dad, all big dark eyes and worry. “Is he?”
“Absolutely. Our close rate has been higher since he got involved than it’s been in the last three years.”
“See, Pa?” Neal says, “I’m... I’m all done with that stuff now.”
His dad rolls his eyes again, “We heard that this morning, Neal.”
Peter feels Neal stiffen, “Yeah, well, this morning was a long time ago, for me.”
His dad looks chastised, sorrow again fills his pa’s face. There’s a heavy air of guilt cast over the scene that Peter knows he can’t hope to explain.
Neal sighs, “Look, I know you aren’t around for long this time. Let’s not... ruin things. Come on, we’ll go have lunch.”
They find a diner a few blocks away, and Neal fills his parents in on what sounds like the last five years of his life. Why this is necessary, Peter has no idea. Every so often he’s called on to verify a detail or elaborate on an anecdote (both men look impressed and pleased to hear about his years-long pursuit and eventual capture of Neal), but he knows this isn’t about him. Neal talks about Kate, and what happened, and while it’s clear Neal’s parents weren’t big fans of her, they keep it to themselves, only holding Neal’s hands and hugging him when grief steals his voice.
Their leisurely lunch inevitably comes to an end. On the way back to the park Neal keeps an arm around each parent. Peter is content to bring up the rear. Neal gives his dad and his pa one long hug each before stepping back to Peter’s side.
“So,” his pa says, “When will we see you again?”
Neal pulls the piece of loose leaf out of his pocket. “It says ‘Sunday, July third, 2011. 7:13pm. Central Park, Bethesda Fountain. Hey, maybe you can stick around for the Fourth.”
His pa has taken out a piece of loose leaf paper himself, and seems to be recording what Neal has said. “I dunno, you feel like hot dogs, Claude?”
His dad shrugs, “Could do, Pete, could do.” He winks at Neal.
“Okay, it’s a date,” Neal says. Peter can’t see his smile, but he can hear it.
Pete takes Claude’s hand, and says to Neal, “We’ll be right there.” He looks to Peter, “Agent Burke, it was great meeting you. Take care of each other. See you in summer.”
“Bye,” Neal says. Peter waves.
Then they vanish. Into thin air. Peter squeezes his eyes shut and opens them, but the impossible stubbornly continues to have happened. He jumps when Neal slaps a hand on his back.
“Do you want me to try that explanation now?”
Peter considers. “I... I think I can wait, actually. If that’s all right.”
Neal pats his back, “Wise choice. You’ll only give yourself a headache.”
They walk back to Peter’s car, and the agent can’t help feeling like the more he gets to know Neal, the more mysterious he, and somehow the rest of the world, becomes.