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When Neal came into office on Monday looking tired and not 100% himself, Peter blamed his CI’s activities over the weekend for the lack of the normal level of energy (Actually, if he’d thought more closely about the subject, he didn’t want to think what kind of activities probably had been involved and Neal being less energetic than usual still managed to be above the average for human kind).
On Tuesday Neal looked even a bit more tired and Peter wondered if Sara was in town.
“No. She’s in London,” – was Neal’s response.
On Wednesday – the third consecutive day of Neal’s tiredness– Peter pulled his CI’s tracking data. Of course, Peter trusted Neal (well, maybe not unconditionally and besides the agent loved to prove his hypothesis that a) something was up or that b) nothing was up – depending on his mood – and the evidence – or the interpretation of the findings to be more accurate). When Peter found out that Neal had spent almost all his free time at June’s, the agent wasn’t sure if he was more relieved or worried.
On Thursday all the agents looked a bit off their game because the whole division had worked almost until midnight the previous night and Neal played a crucial role so it didn’t surprise Peter that Neal looked the most tired of all of them.
On Friday even more fatigue was evident on Neal’s face (well, if it were even possible because the kid had looked half dead before – dark shadows under eyes, pale skin). Of course, Neal tried to con everyone and put up a façade – but he wasn’t really successful and after a busy morning, Peter couldn’t stand not knowing and summoned Neal to his office.
The kid looked like he could fall asleep mid-sentence.
Peter decided to start gently.
“Neal, you don’t look good. Are you sick?”
“I don’t get sick, and why are you a mother hen all of a sudden?”
“We’ll have a busy week ahead of us and I’d love to prevent my office from succumbing to your germs.”
“Oh, how sweet.”
Ruling out illness, Peter asked the question he didn’t want to ask,
“Is there anything I should know about that had happened within last week or to be safe – last two weeks?” Neal looked a bit surprised but answered right away.
“Well, Bugsy ate a bee and got us worried.A friend’s pet died because of it… So you can imagine…” With a stern look as a clue from Peter, Neal didn’t go on with Bugsy’s adventures but continued,
“And I got a free cookie with my coffee yesterday – I shouldn’t report it, should I? – but it was because I told the barista that she had given me too much change.”
“Neal, I’m serious!” At this very moment Neal’s phone buzzed to life with an incoming call.
“Peter, I have to take this!” Peter was surprised but decided to let his CI take the call. Of course, he could wait, couldn’t he?
“ Great! Wow! No… Yeah… Superb!” Neal exclaimed and Peter was sure that Neal had won a lottery. Meaning - Neal managed to steal the Mona Lisa, forge the Pieta or put anything that could be classified as world heritage art into his or Moz’s safehouses. Of course Peter knew that he was exaggerating. A bit. A lot maybe.
When Neal hung up, grin on his face, Peter dared to ask,
“Could you please add some nouns and verbs and explain to me what that was about?”
“Samantha won first prize!” Yes. It explained everything. Was it a code of any sort? Peter thought.
“Pardon?”
“In the school competition!” Peter decided to take a few calming breaths. He was an FBI agent. He would figure it out. Who is Samantha and what was Neal talking about. Or maybe he should check Neal’s foreheadfor fever or get him tested for drugs… Slow, calming breaths…
“Ok. Neal, sit down. And I’d love to hear the explanation from the beginning.” He gently lowered Neal who was now almost exploding with energy.
“Peter! We won! That’s so great!” Yoga, Peter. There must be some discount for CI handlers.Peter thought and just stared at Neal with eyes wide open. The CI managed to discern that the agent had no idea what he was talking about.
“ June’s granddaughter! She won a competition!”
“I’m happy for her but does it have any relation to you looking bone tired this week?”
“I helped her!” It’s getting better. Peter sighed.
“Ok. How? Did you con someone? Taught her to pick pockets for lunch money or to forge a teacher’s signature?”
“Prepare a costume, Peter.” Neal tried to sound offended but grinned more wildly.
“I can tell you everything about it. It was legal and legit.” Oh, this time Peter didn’t doubt it. Or maybe he did. But just a bit.
“No thanks.” Peter dared. Of course, it didn’t stop Neal who became even more excited and happily explained all to Peter.
“We prepared a costume of Livia Drusilla, wife of the emperor Augustus, mother of Emperor Tiberius, grandmother of Emperor Claudius, deified by him, and great-grandmother and great-great grandmother of emperors Caligula and Nero. I knew little about what Roman matrons wore before and after marriage, their jewelry, how they fixed their hair. So we did some digging. You know… to be more detailed and precise. And we had to make the right clothing. And the right material for jewelry and then construct it. It took almost every night this week! It was so much fun!” Ok. Now that explained a lot. And “we” meant probably Neal and Mozzie and maybe June.
“Did you get any sleep?”
“Some. We had to have it done the right way. And time was the issue!”
And Peter almost laughed – no matter if it was a heist worth millions or an undercover operation with many lives at stake or a school competition, in Neal’s book everything had to be done perfectly. The moment Neal decided to offer his assistance, the girl won it and her opponents didn’t stand a chance. The agent was sure that Neal‘s costume was good enough to be used in a museum or on a movie set. He was also sure that Neal not only barely slept, but also barely ate during the preparation – he knew his CI for long enough to know that Neal in the middle of something was Neal skipping meals. He also knew that the adrenaline rush flowing through Neal’s veins was just about to vanish and he didn’t want to deal with the possible consequences.
Peter decided to take action.
“Jones!” The younger agent was in Peter’s office in no time.
“Are you busy?”
“Not really?” Jones answered hesitantly.
“Ok. Are you up for a lunch and a special assignment?
“For you, boss, always,” Jones added trying to hide the worry on his face.
“You’ll take Neal and drive him to the deli he likes so much – the one with the fancy stuff outside his radius. You’ll buy yourself and him lunch – it’s on me – make sure he eats it and drinks no coffee and then you’ll drive him to June’s, escort him to his apartment and directly to bed.”
“You want me to tuck him in?” Peter’s stern glance stopped Jones for pursuing the subject.
“No coffee, remember!”
Neal wasn’t sure if he followed the awkward conversation.
“Am I in trouble?” He asked, not sure what was going on.
“Good question. Is he in trouble, Peter?” Jones added.
“No, he’s not. He didn’t sleep the whole week so June’s granddaughter could win a school competition. World heritage is safe! Don’t ask!” Peter warned Jones.
“Ok. But why am I doing the honors?” Jones was surprised.
“It’s you or Diana – I have a meeting in a hour. And if he collapses, I believe it would be easier for you to carry him four flights of stairs.” Peter added and glanced at Neal who tried to hide yawns.
“You know Peter, I’ll keep it to myself. I bet Diana would knock Neal over and drag him across the city to prove you wrong,” Jones replied in a low voice.
“Good thinking. This conversation never happened.” Peter pushed both men outside his office. Only Neal (and probably a bunch of grandmothers and mothers) could have devoted many sleepless nights to make a costume. Peter could whine and complain a lot about Neal’s devotion to helping other people but deep inside he was genuinely touched by Neal’s activities. He promised to send Neal home earlier next time.
Neal and Jones left the office with no fanfare. When the younger agent was back within an hour and a half – mission accomplished, he had some news for Peter:
“Well, we shouldn’t be worried about the future safety of world class art – not for a while. It’s as safe as it could be because Samantha has another competition next month.”
Peter groaned.