Word Count: 4232
Rating: PG.
Category: Hurt/Comfort. Friendship.
Story Status: Complete.
Summary: It all started when Neal took Bugsy for a walk one cold Christmas morning..
A/N: I have taken
liberties with canon and placed this fic towards the end of S2, despite
the episodes being filmed in summer. Seeing as there is a definite
light-hearted (and maybe tiny bit cracked) feel to this fic, I don't
think anyone's going to mind about it being Christmas too soon,
canon-wise. And anyway, you could always consider it AU if you like!
Also, I should probably point out that this is not my normal writing
style, but something of an experiment - that may or may not have
worked. Written for the Advent Calendar on White Collar HC.
Thanks: This fic would
not have been finished if not for Jayne Perry encouraging me and
writing of some scenes towards the end, that she then told me to edit
and expand as I wished. Considering it was initially meant to be
published for Christmas 2012, I cannot thank her enough for not letting
me leave this sitting around for yet another year (or few). Also, a big
thank you to Sholio for the beta and some very good advice that helped
this fic be better than it was. Any remaining mistakes are mine. And
finally, but definitely not leastly, another big thank you goes to
kanarek13 for the wonderful cover art that I love!
Not the Day He Had Planned
by Leesa Perrie and Jayne Perry
Every year, a few days before Christmas, Mozzie disappeared,
reappearing on the 26th as if nothing had happened. Neal had learned
long ago not to bother asking where Mozzie went, he never got an
answer. Clearly, it was one of those secrets that Mozzie would never
share - which was fine, Neal had a few of those himself.
(Mozzie had a secret. Every year he became a diminutive and
bespectacled Santa at various group homes and orphanages, doling out
presents he had bought for the children with his own, if not entirely
legally earned, money right up to and including Christmas day.
Something he didn't want anyone to know, not even Neal. Not that Neal
wouldn't understand, but really, this sort of philanthropic endeavour
was not good for his image in the criminal underworld, so he guarded it
closely.)
Last year, Neal's first Christmas out of jail, June's family had
descended on her house and Neal had retreated to his apartment, only to
be dragged (not quite
literally) downstairs by both Cindy and June. He'd felt like an
interloper, and certainly a few family members gave him suspicious
looks, but after dinner he entertained the younger children (and some
older ones too) with a few sleight of hand and card based 'magic'
tricks. That seemed to break the ice, as did June insisting on him
singing a couple of songs with her later that evening.
(June had been disappointed in her brother, who had believed Neal was
out to fleece her of everything she owned. She'd had to take him to
task for believing her to be so gullible as to fall for someone else's
con, and had made sure to do so in front of several other family
members when she did. After that, Neal was welcomed, because none of
them wanted a wrathful June scolding them so eloquently and publicly
for believing she might be in any way naive.)
This year, though, her family were going to Italy for the holidays.
Little Samantha had a new kidney and was finally fit enough to travel
and June had promised to take her to Italy as soon as she was well.
That it fell over Christmas was unfortunate, as June was full of guilt
at the thought of leaving Neal all on his own, but Neal had merely
smiled and told her to go. He would be fine, and besides, he'd have
Bugsy to keep him company.
(Bugsy liked Neal. He walked him and talked to him, and slipped him
morsels of wonderful human food that June never did. He'd even given
him a brand new collar once - the one Neal wore on his leg - though it
had been taken from him by an unhappy Jones. Bugsy didn't know why
Jones was unhappy, or why he had to lose his new collar, but he noted
that Neal had it back on his leg when he next gave Bugsy a walk.)
Peter and Elizabeth had spent last Christmas at Peter's parents house,
and this year it was their turn to host the family. El's parents were
in one of the third floor guest rooms, Peter's parents in the one next
to that, El's sister and husband were in the second floor guest room,
with their children camping in the living room with Satchmo.
Peter had spent the entire week before Christmas moaning to Neal - and
Jones and Diana and anyone else in the wrong place at the wrong time -
about having a full house with nowhere to escape to. Neal had tried to
commiserate, he really did, but it was only for three nights. He didn't
add that it was better than being alone, because no, he didn't want to
open up that can of worms or have Peter to tell him to 'cowboy up' or
something equally as unsympathetic.
So now, Christmas morning, and Neal had decided to open his presents
after dinner. Opening presents always made him feel liked, even loved,
and so doing that later would hold the loneliness at bay for a while.
Grabbing Bugsy's leash, he went to find the little dog. A short walk
would do them both good and still leave Neal time to get started on his
dinner preparations. Just because he was alone didn't mean he couldn't
have a feast, and seeing as it was just himself, he'd treated himself
to some Cornish hens and other 'fancy stuff' as Peter would say.
-------------------------------------------
The weather was cold and frosty but at least there was no snow on the
ground, which Neal was thankful for. White Christmases were great if
you could stay indoors or were a kid, but not so great when walking a
dog, and a pampered one at that. Neal tried not to think about what he
must look like, a man wrapped up against the cold temperatures walking
a similarly wrapped up dog. Though Neal was grateful that at least June
wasn't one of those owners who put booties on their dogs. And if Neal's
scarf was wrapped higher over his face than normal, and his hat pulled
down lower, well, that was just sensible in this sort of weather. When
walking a small dog in a coat.
(June was perfectly aware that Neal found walking Bugsy embarassing at
this time of the year, but Bugsy's needs to keep warm were greater than
Neal's sense of decorum, so she didn't let it worry her. Besides, it
amused her to see him trying to act all nonchalent and unworried about
his image, while using his scarf and hat to hide his face. He really
was adorable at times.)
Turning the corner of the block, Neal sighed in relief as the house
came back into view. A few minutes and he could defrost himself while
making dinner.
Of course, that was when the inevitable happened. An icy sidewalk, an
excited dog who could see home was in view, a tug of the leash when
Neal wasn't prepared, and Neal was on the ground, groaning.
That had hurt.
(Unfortunately for Neal, that part of the sidewalk had been in the sun
for a short time and then the water droplets had iced up again, making
it more slippery than an ice rink.)
Bugsy nosed him, no doubt wondering what Neal was doing on the ground.
Sighing, Neal tried to get up, only for his right ankle to give way.
Great.
Looking around, he couldn't see anything he could use to lever himself
up with, so he tried again, careful not to put weight on his foot, and
somehow managed to stand. The house suddenly seemed a long way away. He
tried limping first, tentatively putting pressure on his right leg, but
he could feel it wasn't going to hold his weight and so quickly
desisted.
Hopping it was then. Hopping, with a dog on a leash that was eager to
get home and an icy pavement that was hard enough to walk on with two
legs, let alone one.
Neal made it about ten feet, albeit slowly and with much difficulty,
before the inevitable happened as Bugsy pulled him off-centre and Neal
found himself on the ground again. His hands and left knee complained
bitterly, but worst of all, he'd let go of the leash. Looking around,
knowing June would kill him (hopefully not literally) if he lost her
dog, he was pleased to see Bugsy running up the steps to the house.
(Bugsy could smell home. He didn't understand what Neal was doing on
the ground. It didn't look at all comfortable to him, not like the sofa
in Neal's room - or the bed. He wished Neal would hurry up and let him
in. He was starting to feel really cold. And hungry.)
Heaving himself up, Neal tried hopping again, only for his left knee to
complain and have him back on the ground for a third time in less than
five minutes. This was frustrating, the house was right there.
He just had to get to it, but his right ankle wasn't going to bear any
weight, his left knee wasn't much better, and there was nothing to hold
onto or use as a crutch.
Sighing again, he got out his phone.
-------------------------------------------
Peter was sure he was about to go crazy. Too many people, too much
noise and nowhere to hide. He'd tried to make it out of the back door
twice, but both times had been intercepted by someone wanting to show
him pictures on their digital cameras. He was either going to scream or
shoot someone if he saw one more vacation photo! He had been working
particularly hard lately and he and El hadn't had a break in over three
months, so photos of other people on vacation were the last thing he
needed.
(What Peter didn't know was that El's Mom had heard that the two of
them hadn't been away for a while and had persuaded various family
members to show their vacation photos in the hope of getting Peter to
take her daughter away, as she thought the two of them were looking
pale.)
Thankfully for Peter's sanity his phone rang and he grasped it like a drowning man reaching out for a lifebuoy.
"Peter."
"Neal," Peter said, trying not to sound too happy. "Why are you calling me?"
"I fell and I can't get up," Neal said lightly, though Peter thought he could detect a more serious undertone.
"What do you mean?" Peter asked, hearing a sigh from Neal in return.
(Neal had been trying to make things light, but really, this was just
embarrassing and he felt like an idiot needing to call anyone for help.
Though from the tone of Peter's voice, he was pretty sure Peter would
take any excuse to get away from his home and all of his relatives.)
"I was walking Bugsy and slipped on the ice, hurting my right ankle.
Then Bugsy pulled me over again and now my left knee is also not happy.
I can't get up. Believe me, I've tried. So... I was wondering if
rescuing your CI from an ice-bound sidewalk was in your job
description, or not."
"Drunk too much wine already?" Peter teased.
"No, I have not drunk too much wine," Neal said, sounding slightly annoyed.
"Isn't there anyone else that can help you? June? Mozzie?"
(Did Peter not hear Neal last week when he'd said that June would be
away over the Christmas period? Clearly not, he mused, feeling even
more aggrieved.)
"June's away and Mozzie... Mozzie tends to disappear at Christmas. No idea where or why."
"Probably investigating whether Santa is really an alien or something equally ridiculous," Peter added.
"I thought it better not to ask," Neal replied.
"For the best, I imagine. Where are you?"
"I can see the front door from here. And Bugsy waiting for me to open it for him."
"Right. I'll give my apologies and be with you soon."
(Neal couldn't help but notice the delight bleeding into Peter's voice
at the thought of giving his apologies and escaping. Well, at least one
of them was enjoying this situation.)
"Thanks, Peter."
-------------------------------------------
A short while later, Neal saw Peter's car round the corner and park
next to him and a sense of relief swept over him. Finally, he could get
off the cold ground and return to his apartment.
"Comfortable down there?"
"Just hurry and get me up."
Peter slipped his arm under Neal's and tried to help the younger man to
stand. But after much yelping it was obvious that Neal was in a worst
state than Peter had anticipated.
(Bugsy wondered why Neal was making that noise. It sounded like Neal
was in pain, which was upsetting. He didn't like his friends to be sad
or in pain. Maybe if he went over and licked Neal, he'd start to feel
better? June seemed to feel better when Bugsy licked her face when she
was sad.)
"This dog is not helping." Peter moaned. "Give me June's keys and I'll let him in."
Reluctantly, Neal handed over the keys, not sure how June would feel
about an unchaperoned Fed loose in her house, even if said Fed was
Peter and he was only letting Bugsy in. Moments later, Peter was back.
"Okay, 911 or do you think you can make it to the car?"
"Neither. Just get me up to my apartment," Neal said, just wanting to get inside and forget all of this.
"Nope. ER or I leave you here."
(Peter almost laughed at the glare he received, it was so predictable.
Although he could understand why Neal might prefer to be back in his
own space rather than go to ER, there was no way Peter was going to
give into him about this. Neal couldn't even stand, that warranted
medical attention in Peter's book.)
"See, I knew you'd see it my way. Let's get you into the car and I'll drive you there."
-------------------------------------------
After several hours spent at the ER, Neal was more than glad to be
getting out of there. It seemed that being Christmas Day hadn't reduced
the waiting time any, something he had feared and part of why he'd
wanted to stay home. Of course, the fact that his ankle had a hairline
fracture only made Peter look smug about his decision to bring him
here, though at least his knee was only bruised. The addition of a pair
of crutches, which were harder to use than one might imagine, had been
the cherry on top of this exasperating day.
Still, the nurse had been cute, even if she hadn't given him her phone
number. Neal put it down to her being over worked, rather than any
problems with his charm.
(What he didn't know was that Nurse Judy had been struck by how much
Neal looked like her younger brother, even down to the same charismatic
smile. There was no way she could even think of going out with him, it
would just feel too weird.)
On the walk back to the car, Neal had valiantly ignored Peter's quiet
amusement at his difficulty with the crutches and the muttered comment
about not being so poised and elegant now. The drive back was quiet as
he did not sulk, but contemplated how quickly his Christmas plans had gone awry.
(Peter knew that Neal wouldn't expect or appreciate any overt sympathy
from him, and would certainly not want to be fussed over, so instead he
gently teased Neal about the hilarious debacle called walking with
crutches that he had been witnessing. He also allowed Neal to sulk
during the drive, knowing how difficult Neal was to deal with when he
got like that - and there were better battles to fight yet.)
Neal gave a sigh of relief when they pulled up in front of his place,
allowing Peter to help him from the car, though admittedly with bad
grace.
"I can manage now," Neal said once upright.
"All those stairs? You wouldn't get past the first flight. Anyway, El
would never forgive me if I didn't see you safely through your front
door."
Neal gave up at the mention of El's name. He'd overheard Peter updating
her at the hospital and knew that if he didn't cooperate with Peter,
she would come over. While Neal was secretly glad of Peter's help, he
was also feeling bad about keeping Peter from his family for most of
the day and didn't want to risk El being pulled away from them too.
Especially as she was probably in her element in the midst of the
chaos, unlike Peter.
(El was actually feeling the need to get away from everyone. She loved
catering for people and spending time with her family, but even she was
beginning to feel caged in. There were too many people and not enough
room. Next year they would be doing things differently, that was
certain.)
As they entered the house, Bugsy rushed over and Neal was even more
grateful for Peter being here as the dog insisted on getting under
Neal's feet and threatening to topple him - yet again.
(Bugsy was happy to see people again, having been waiting for ages and
ages for someone to fuss over him and feed him. He didn't know why Neal
had two poles to lean on, or why Peter was trying to fend him off, but
he hoped Neal would feed him soon.)
"Will you be okay while I put Bugsy in the kitchen?" Peter asked.
"Yeah. He's probably hungry," Neal replied. "His food's in the cupboard. Could you feed him too?"
"Sure."
(Of course, when Peter got to the kitchen, he realised that he hadn't
asked which cupboard the dog food was in, and there were a lot of
cupboards to search. Still, in the process of searching for Bugsy's
food, he'd found a cookie jar and June was now minus two cookies. He
didn't think she'd mind and he couldn't resist, having only had a candy
bar for lunch from the ER's vending machine.)
Neal fidgeted as he waited for Peter to return from the kitchen,
wondering what was taking so long, and then grudgingly let Peter help
him up the stairs. It took a lot longer than Neal thought it would, the
crutches proving to be even more unruly on stairs than they were on a
level floor. He couldn't be more relieved to finally reach his front
door, even more so when he was able to sink onto his couch.
"Hadn't you better be getting back to your guests?" Neal asked.
"You serious? If I look at another vacation photo I'll turn into The
Hulk! Besides, I don't think you should be left alone just yet. You're
still not steady on your feet and I can't risk my CI falling and
hitting his head on the bathroom sink."
"I'll be fine."
"Right," Peter said, sounding unconvinced and hitting speed dial on his
phone. "El, honey. Neal's pretty bashed up and I can't leave him. I was
really looking forward to coming back, but ..." There was a pause as El
obviously interrupted Peter. "You will? You don't have to do that...
Okay, see you soon then."
(El was all too glad to have an excuse to leave her guests for a while,
especially as her mom was talking about playing Charades and that was
something she definitely wanted to avoid. She knew from past experience
how quickly that could deteriorate into a family disagreement. A quick
explanation to her family, a promise not to be too long, and she made
her escape.)
Neal waited patiently for Peter to explain the phone call, wondering if hitting him with a crutch would help.
"Well?"
"El is coming over and she's bringing food."
"She doesn't need to do that, I've got food in the refrigerator."
"Too late."
"Great," Neal muttered, sighing. "Could you get Bugsy? He's probably lonely."
Peter nodded, and finally Neal was alone, if only for a few minutes. Bliss.
(Bugsy was overjoyed to see Peter. Peter was nice and had fed him and
smelled of dog. Even better, Peter took him upstairs to see Neal, who
was on his couch with his legs up, the perfect place for Bugsy to jump
up and cuddle him. He didn't know why Neal yelped when he landed on
Neal's legs, or why Peter grabbed him and put him back on the floor,
but he jumped up again - this time onto Neal's chest - and settled down
for a petting.)
-------------------------------------------
Peter's eyes lit up when El arrived, hoping she might shake Neal out of his morose mood.
"The food just needs warming up," El said, bustling about at Neal's kitchenette.
"Thank you for doing this," Neal said gratefully. "You really didn't need to."
"Don't be silly," El admonished him. "Besides, my mom was talking about
a game of Charades and it seemed like a good time to retreat."
Peter nodded, remembering the last time the Mitchell family had played
Charades. El's sister was really bad at guessing titles, and was even
worse when it was her turn to mime, which usually ended up with tears.
It seemed El was not the only competitive person in her family. Peter
was glad to be missing the forthcoming tantrum.
(Neal was wondering what the big deal was about Charades. Sure, it
wasn't the most fun game he'd ever played, but it wasn't as bad the
Peter and El's expressions seemed to suggest it was. Maybe he'd prise
the story out of Peter sometime, because he was sure there must be a
story there.)
As the food warmed up, the smell pervaded the apartment reminding Peter
how long it had been since he'd last eaten. Hearing Neal's stomach
rumble made him smile, though also feel a little guilty. Neal hadn't
even had a candy bar for lunch and Peter hadn't thought to buy him one
for when he was released.
"I'll set the table," Peter said. "Do you want to eat there?"
"No, I can make it to the table," Neal replied.
"Oh honey, you'd be better keeping your legs elevated," El said sweetly.
"I can use a dining chair to do that."
"If you're sure," El said, turning it into a question and sharing a concerned look with Peter.
"It'll be fine," Neal reassured her. Peter just shook his head at
Neal's stubbornness, but figured he'd probably be just as bad in Neal's
place.
-------------------------------------------
Once they were sat at the table, El smiled at 'her boys' and raised her
glass. "Merry Christmas," she toasted, and Peter and Neal responded in
kind.
El watched as the two men ate and filled her in on what had happened in
the ER, including Neal's lack of acquiring any phone numbers from the
female nurses there. She'd already eaten with her family and so just
nibbled on some crackers while she watch the two men tuck in.
As they talked, her gaze drifted over to the window where the view of
New York twinkled prettier than any Christmas tree, at least to her
eyes. It was the word 'Mozzie' that suddenly brought her back to the
conversation.
"...he normally calls in the evening. Not that he wishes me a Merry
Christmas or anything, that's not his thing," Neal was saying. "He can
come over and look after me so you can get back to your guests."
(Neal was secretly hoping that Peter and El would go home and that
Mozzie wouldn't call. He didn't want to keep the Burkes from their
family any longer, and he certainly didn't feel up to Mozzie's special
brand of suffocating concern, nor his admonishments to be more careful
in future. He really just wanted to go to bed.)
"We'll stay until he calls," Peter said.
"You really don't have to," Neal argued.
"I'll call him," El said, entering the conversation, not giving Neal a
chance to argue as she quickly pressed speed dial. "I'll feel better
knowing that he's on his way."
-------------------------------------------
Neal sighed and endured listening to her filling Mozzie in on what had
happened. It sounded more and more like a comedy routine the way she
described it, and Peter certainly seemed to be enjoying her version of
the facts. Neal rolled his eyes.
"So that's settled. Thanks, Mozzie," El said, finishing the conversation. "We'll just wash the dishes for you."
"No, that's fine. It will give Mozzie something to do other than just drink my wine," Neal replied, with a wry smile.
"I don't think that will slow Mozzie down much," El answered, smiling. "But if you're sure, then we'll head home."
"We could wait for Mozzie to arrive before going," Peter put in, giving
Neal a desperate look, clearly wanting to put off going home to a full
house as long as possible.
"No, really, that's okay, You've done more than enough as it is," Neal
said, with a wide smile. Peter's eyes narrowed, but he didn't say
anything.
"One of us will come over tomorrow to check on you. No arguments," El said firmly.
Neal knew when he was beaten and just nodded acquiescence.
A few goodbyes later, and finally he was alone. Well, other than Bugsy, who had taken to Neal's bed.
(Bugsy had tried to beg food from Peter and Elizabeth during the meal,
but no food had been forthcoming from them. Neal had proved a better
target, though Bugsy had been disappointed at how little Neal had
shared with him. Still, at least he had Neal's comfortable bed to
himself. It was a nice bed. Not as nice as June's, but nice enough.)
All things considered, it had been an embarrassing and painful day. And
yet Neal couldn't help the warm feeling that filled him at the thought
of Peter spending most of the day with him and of El coming over with
food. They really had gone out of their way to help him - and even if
Peter had been more than glad to escape his home, Neal still felt
grateful to him for staying. It was good to have friends like the
Burkes.
Maybe this Christmas hadn't turned out quite so terrible after all.
Well, despite the broken ankle, bruised knee and the approaching Mozzie hurricane, of course.
The End
