Chapter Text
‘Mozzie, I really don’t have time for this’ Sara grumbled with more than a tinge of impatience in her voice.
‘You don’t have time? For the biggest hoax in history?’ he answered bitingly.
Sara rolled her eyes at the bespectacled man as he continued, undaunted. ‘…because if they can stage a fake moon landing, they can fake just about anything’ he warned.
‘Mozzie, please! Can we stick to the subject? I’ve got to get back to the office’ Sara complained.
They were sitting in a little coffee shop a stone’s throw from the offices of Sterling Bosch as Mozzie prepared to give Sara a lead on the fencing of a Botticelli - a Christmas themed painting that had been missing in action for over fifty years.
‘So, where and when is the swap going down?’ she asked, pulling her scarf tightly around her shoulders.
Mozzie gave her the evil eye. ‘Can you scream that any louder? The guy across the street didn't hear you!’ he whispered, obviously annoyed at what he perceived to be her lack of discretion.
Getting leads from Mozzie was often more trouble than it was worth but this painting had been on the Sterling Bosch watch list for a long time. Sara couldn't believe it when he’d called to tell her he had a lead and that one of his sworn enemies was the fence for the transaction.
‘So, who are you exacting revenge on this time?’ she asked, sarcasm dripping from her voice.
He glanced around the café, making sure no one was listening. ‘Ronnie the Shark, he’s the lowest of the low’ he murmured with a scowl.
‘Ronnie the Shark?’ she repeated, incredulous. ‘Why do crooks always have such flamboyant names?’
‘He got his nickname after word got around he’d taken a bite out of some guy’s ear when he screwed him over on a deal. I recommend you keep your distance from him’ Mozzie warned. ‘Or at the very least, wear a hat.’
Sara rolled her eyes once more. Only Mozzie… She gave him a look of pure annoyance as she waited for some useful information.
‘I’ll get back to you with the details but it’s going down in the next few days’ Mozzie announced with a flourish.
Sara stood and stretched her back. The not so discreet baby bump she was sporting was getting bigger by the day and Mozzie’s eyes were drawn to it immediately.
‘Are you sure you don't want to send one of your underlings out on this one. I don't think Neal will be very happy with me when he finds out I sent you to swim with the sharks.’
‘Don’t you worry about Neal. I can handle him’ she said as she grabbed her warm winter coat and wrapped herself in it.
Neal had been even more overprotective this second time around and she was only four months along; it was going to be a long nine months.
‘Keep me posted Mozzie’ Sara said as she prepared to leave. ‘I really want this one.’
Mozzie watched her leave, noticing the slightest waddle in her gait - very un-Sara Ellis like - an observation he would definitely be keeping to himself. She made her way through the coffee shop, trying to shake the uneasy feeling she’d been getting lately that she was being watched. It certainly wouldn't be the first time she was followed; fences and thieves knew how aggressive insurance companies could be in their attempts to recover stolen goods and they didn't give up those goods without a fight. Now that she was once again carrying precious cargo, she couldn't afford to take any chances and these days, her radar seemed to be particularly attuned to her environment.
As she reached the door, she glanced back at the assorted group of individuals who were having a late lunch and, seeing nothing out of the ordinary, she pulled up the collar of her winter coat and stepped out onto the busy street.
WCWCWC
Neal pulled the wool cap snugly over his ears, adjusted the glasses he was wearing and stuck his nose back in his newspaper as Sara sauntered by, none the wiser.
Even he had to admit, he’d become a little obsessed lately. What had begun as reasonable concern for his newly pregnant wife had morphed into a veritable obsession as of late. After years of trying, Sara had finally gotten pregnant and he had way too much time on his hands - two seemingly unrelated facts that added up to a deadly combination.
Hope had started kindergarten in September and Neal had found himself with a lot of free time despite his short term contracts with a couple of insurance companies and the odd case thrown at him by Peter and the White Collar team.
Ever since he'd come off anklet four years earlier, he’d spent most of his time keeping the home fires burning, cooking meals, gardening, providing child care, adding to his collection of original art and generally trying to figure out what he wanted to be when he grew up. Sterling Bosch, Finch and Johns and Americana Insurance were just three of the companies which had used his services for art authentication but it didn't amount to full time work and even though Peter would have been more than happy to welcome him back to the unit full time, Neal had no interest in resuming a career with the FBI.
He peeked over his newspaper and watched surreptitiously as Mozzie put on his coat and walked out. Stalking his own wife and his old friend was tricky work and although he’d never been much of a ‘disguise’ kind of guy, Neal had been compelled to pull together a couple of alter egos in order not to be recognized by the cunning pair. So far, so good, although he knew his luck wouldn't hold out forever. One of them was bound to recognize him eventually as he continued to skulk nearby.
He’d been begging his wife to stay out of the fray and send some of her staff on what he deemed were the more dangerous recoveries but she’d been adamant that she could handle herself, pregnant or not. Of course if Mozzie was involved, it was a sure bet that there were some unsavory characters involved as well - where Mozzie went, trouble followed - and if Sara had kept this from him, it was because she knew he wouldn't approve of her involvement in this particular recovery.
He waited for Mozzie to disappear up the street and he ambled out into the cold December afternoon; school would be out in a couple of hours and he had to make it back to White Plains to pick up his little girl.
WCWCWC
‘So, how was school today?’ Neal asked as the family sat down to a dinner of meatloaf and roasted potatoes.
Neal had made it back home in time to take off his ‘stalker’ attire and stash it in the back of the closet before heading back out to pick up his daughter at school. If he was going to do a decent job of spying on his wife, he knew better than to do it in any of his own clothes and he’d invested in a couple of nondescript outfits, baseball caps, hats and glasses - even a moustache he hadn't yet had the chance to try out.
‘Good’ Hope said, with her mouth full. ‘Mrs. Winters said if we practice really hard for the Christmas concert, she’ll give us a special treat on the last day of school.’
‘Oh, yeah?’ said Sara, absentmindedly. It wasn't lost on Neal that his wife’s mind seemed to always be on work these days as she wrapped up a couple of big recoveries and worked on whatever it was she’d been plotting with Mozzie.
‘What about you, honey? Any new cases?’ Neal asked innocently.
Sara knew better than to come clean; Neal had been mollycoddling her constantly ever since that September morning when they’d discovered with utter joy that she had a bun in the oven. Her long awaited pregnancy was more than enough ammunition for Neal to be overprotective and she wasn't about to give him anything else to fret about.
‘Same old, same old’ she fibbed as she poked at her food.
‘Daddy, will you take me to see Santa this weekend?’ Hope asked.
‘Sure’ Neal said with a soft smile. ‘I think he’s visiting White Plains Mall on Saturday.’
Sara gave him a knowing smile; he was the most wonderful dad, thoughtful, caring and she loved watching him interact with Hope.
‘Maybe we can do a little Christmas shopping while we’re there’ Sara added gleefully.
‘How many more sleeps before Santa comes?’ Hope asked as she looked from her mom to her dad.
‘Well, let’s see’ Neal answered as he glanced over at the Advent calendar hanging on the fridge. ‘Eight more’ he concluded as Hope pouted.
‘That’s too many’ she complained.
‘Well, Santa’s got a lot of work to do before the big night. He’s probably thinking that eight sleeps isn't nearly enough’ Neal countered as he winked at Sara.
‘Eat up, sweet pea’ he added. ‘Maybe you and I will have time to go down to the studio after dinner.’
‘Studio!’ Hope screamed as she belched loudly. ‘Oops, sorry!’
WCWCWC
Neal curled up behind Sara, his hand snaking around her to rest on her round belly as he cooed.
‘How’s our little baby boy tonight?’ he asked as his lips lingered on the back of her neck.
‘He’s good. I thought I might have felt a kick earlier… but it was probably what I had for lunch’ she said as she placed her hand on top of Neal’s.
‘What did you have for lunch?’ Neal asked, anxious to see if she would ‘fess up about the avocado salad he’d seen her feasting on during her clandestine meeting with Mozzie.
Sara took a moment to answer; she was nowhere near as good as her husband at fabricating answers off the cuff. ‘I… just had a sandwich at my desk’ she lied.
So much for truth and honesty in marriage, Neal thought, fully aware that he wasn’t much better than she was - considering he’d been following her around New York for days, dressed up in all kinds of weird disguises.
‘It might have been a kick’ he said knowingly, returning to the business of rubbing her belly. ‘Almost sixteen weeks… you should be feeling him move anytime now’ Neal added with a proud smile.
As the resident expert on all things related to her pregnancy, he was more than happy to keep her informed of what was happening inside her womb - on a daily basis. Sara worried her husband might be over invested in her pregnancy and she hated knowing he worried so much about her when she could take perfectly good care of herself. If only she could get him focussed on something other than her burgeoning belly, they would all be better off for it.
‘Honey, I’ve been thinking. Why don’t you see if Peter has any work for you at the Bureau. Maybe a nice juicy case to sink your teeth into…’ Sara suggested, anything to keep him from coddling her.
‘What? You don't think I have enough on my hands with that contract I just got with Finch and Johns? That’ll keep me busy for a few days… and Hope gets out of school early and then there are meals and laundry and to top it all off, Christmas is just over a week away’ Neal complained, stopping short of adding his daily outings as a stalker to his long list of chores.
‘Poor baby!’ Sara said with mock sympathy as she turned in bed to look at him, lips pouting.
‘And besides’ Neal continued, undeterred. ‘I’ve been working on a little something special down in the studio… for a special someone. So don't go snooping down there!’ he warned as he wagged a finger in her face.
Studio surprises were the best, especially around special occasions like her birthday and Christmas. That meant Neal was painting something special to give to her and she couldn't wait for Christmas morning to find out what it was.
‘Oh yeah?’ she said as she kissed his lips playfully. ‘Any chance I could worm it out of you?’
‘I’m a vault’ he replied as he kissed her back.
‘You know, some expert safecrackers have been know to crack vaults…’ she began flirtatiously, putting her mouth to good use and nibbling on his bottom lip. ‘I could certainly make it worth your while…’
‘Shhhh’ he whispered as he lifted his head off the pillow in reaction to a soft rustle. ‘Was that Hope?’
Sara pulled away to listen; their bedroom door had been left open and they both knew better than to get into anything more serious than a little smooching when Hope was right down the hall, within ear range. The house returned to quiet and Neal resumed his position, arms around Sara.
‘I talked to Peter today, it sounds like his Uncle Nick might not make it to Christmas’ Neal said, suddenly serious.
‘Oh no! Which one was he again?’ Sara asked as she thought back to the many family members they’d met while on summer vacation at Peter’s parents’ place in upstate New York.
A few feet away, Hope lay in bed, hearing the soft, melodic voices of her parents as they chatted nearby. She couldn't get to sleep and she tiptoed out into the hallway and sat herself down just outside her parents’ bedroom door, her pink elephant tucked under her arm.
She liked to listen to her mom and dad’s soft voices as they prepared to drift off to sleep. She knew better than to interrupt them when their bedroom door was closed but all bets were off when it was open. She’d been struggling somewhat with her new routine and Neal and Sara had found her sound asleep on the floor right outside their bedroom door on a couple of mornings since school had started.
She lay down on the carpet runner in the hallway, hugging her plush toy against her and she listened attentively, the voices of her parents, slowly lulling her to sleep.
‘You know, big burly guy, white beard, round tummy’ she heard her dad say.
‘Oh yeah… he’s so nice and so generous’ Sara recalled as she thought of the gentle giant of a man they’d met that summer.
Peter’s uncle Nick was a carpenter and he lived down the road from Peter’s parents’ place. He had lovingly crafted the one of a kind rocker that sat in their basement waiting for their son’s arrival and upon completion of the beautifully crafted chair, he’d refused to accept any payment from the Caffreys.
‘This is his busy time of year too, with all the Christmas orders’ Neal said, sadly. ‘Apparently, his health won’t hold out till Christmas.’
‘That’s so sad’ Sara agreed, curling up against Neal’s chest. ‘A death at Christmastime is sadder than at any other time of year.’
Hope ears perked up as she listened. Somebody was dying and her mom sounded sad about it.
‘Apparently, he makes all his own deliveries and he packs everything up in a sleigh and goes from house to house’ Neal explained.
‘Awww. That sounds really sweet’ Sara said with a sigh.
Hope sat up as she zeroed in on her parents’ whispered conversation. They were talking about Santa. Santa was sick?
‘Apparently, he won’t live for more than a week or so’ Neal said, his voice somber.
Santa was dying… right before Christmas? Hope frowned and slithered back to her bed, curling up under the blankets and holding her pink elephant tightly against her. That was horrible news! How could Santa be dying when all the boys and girls around the world were anxiously awaiting his yearly visit? Maybe if she closed her eyes really tight and wished with all her might, he would get better.
‘That was definitely a noise’ Sara said as Neal’s feet hit the ground. He skulked over to their bedroom door, checking to make sure Hope wasn't lying nearby on the floor and he tiptoed into her room, finding her huddled under the blankets, quiet as a mouse.
He snuck back into their bedroom and slipped in between the sheets and into Sara’s waiting arms.
‘False alarm. She’s sound asleep’ he murmured as he wagged his eyebrows at Sara suggestively.
‘Close the bedroom door’ she whispered naughtily.
TBC