Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"Seriously?"

Jones raised his hands in surrender, making Peter sigh.

The two of them turned back to their witness. Peter pursed his lips before he could ask Jones if he picked the guy up from a retirement home.

The coat and shoes were obvious good quality – the kind Neal would comment on – and the fancy cane spoke wealth, but coupled with the top hat, Peter couldn't help but think the old man looked a bit cartoonish.

"This guy was there before it all went down. He fell asleep on the chair in the lobby until the robbers came in guns blazing and woke him up. They ordered everybody on the floor, but he kept quiet and in the rush they must not have noticed him."

"What makes you think he's a better witness than everybody else? Even if his eyes were a few feet higher than the rest."

Jones shrugged.

"I stood in the same place he was while the robbers were emptying the safe. The window opposite to him reflected the hallway all the way to the safe. If our friends ditched their Halloween masks at all, chances are the old man can ID them."

"Are we even sure his eyesight is good enough to be reliable?" asked Peter watching the old man squint at the agents passing by, like he was trying to remember them from a black and white movie.

"When the police were taking statements he said 'Make sure that freckled brat and his friends won't get away with this.'." Jones threw Peter a look. "He saw something."

Peter turned back towards their witness and watched as the old man raised his fancy cane and used it to lift the top hat off his head and throw it over Diana's shoulder, right on top of Neal's Socrates bust.

Peter had a clear view of another agent gaping at the performance as he walked straight into the closed door.

The old man lifted his head at the noise.

"Bingo!" he yelled, making Jones flinch.

Peter sighed.

"Alright. What's his name?"

"I have no idea." was the blunt reply.

"Wh-? You didn't ask for his name?"

"Trust me, I did. Four times." Jones admitted, looking both exasperated and impressed.

"He didn't hear you?" Peter asked, his headache growing.

"Oh, he did. I'm sure of that."

"So what's the problem then?"

"See for yourself." Jones said and made an after you motion.

Peter shook his head and approached the witness.

"Sir, I am Special Agent Peter Burke and this is Agent Jones, FBI. May I ask you a few questions?"

The man squinted at him with disinterest, but made no comment.

"Did you happen to get a look at the men that burst in today? The ones that got into the safe?"

"Who's asking?"

"Wh-"

God.

They've been after these guys for four months now. Please God. Don't let their only witness forget what they've just witnessed.

He took a deep breath.

"I'm Special Agent Burke, FBI. I'm asking about the attack today – can you describe the men you saw?"

"You didn't catch them yet?"

Peter's headache grew.

It's like I'm talking to my father-in-law.

"I'm afraid they were professionals, sir."

"Aren't you supposed to be professionals too, Suit?"

Wonderful. Their witness is an aged up version of Mozzie.

Peter took a deep breath.

"Can I ask your name, sir?"

The old man didn't even blink.

"Leonardo Mongiovi de la Vera."

"Is that your real name?"

"Of course not, you idjit." He chided. Peter could hear Diana snort in the background. "Who'd you take me for?"

"Sir, if you refuse to cooperate – "

"Does your mother know you're harassing a ninety-three-year-old instead of working?"

He felt Jones move a few feet away from him and towards Diana. He didn't need to look up to know he was smiling.

"What did you see during the robbery?"

The old man stared at him.

"What robbery?"

Dear lord. At least with Mozzie he could work somewhat.

"The one on Main Street a few hours ago. We believe you got a look at the men responsible. Can you describe them to me?"

"I know nothing of no robbery."

Peter finally turned towards Jones and Diana – both who were trying their hardest not to start laughing in the middle of the room. He couldn't have taken his eyes off the man for more than six seconds, but by the time he turned around their witness was already snoring.

"Get Caffrey here." He finally told Diana, throwing his hands in the air.

Neal was a people person. He might get something.

GC

When Diana texted a 911 on his day off, Jason knew it was bound to be interesting.

A new forger, maybe some high class diamond heist... Another copy-cat would have been fun.

What he didn't expect was for all the agents on the floor to sneak poorly hidden looks at an old man that was snoring near the entrance.

It took him an embarrassing long three seconds to realize it was Alfred.

In Jason's defense, Alfred was the person who went undercover the least. Nobody was sure why, because he was the best at it. But the only good thing about this was the fact that Alfred didn't have a lot of aliases, which made it easier for Jason to figure out which one he was using.

Grandpa Caffrey.

It was probably the most beloved alias in the family – most likely because Alfred let all his pseudo-grandkids create the persona.

And the batkids did not hold back.

Jason Todd and Neal Caffrey were as different as the day and the night.

Jason was the Gotham street kid turned vigilante, with a love for guns and a foul mouth. Neal Caffrey was a conman and a flirt who loved people and despised guns and violence.

They created Grandpa Caffrey in a similar fashion.

Alfred Pennyworth was the British butler made of manners and etiquette. He was an ex-Special Operations Executive with connections in almost every intelligence agency in the world.

Grandpa Caffrey was a masterpiece. They kept the expensive suits but changed the fedora with a top hat (with a concealed lock pick set inside). Damian added an ornate cane, that was in fact a disguised fencing sword and the handle a small handgun (just in case). Jason was very explicit that the cane was to be used at all times to whack feds and policemen over the head with.

Tim added the age difference and the paranoia. Dick wanted to keep the artistic talents as a family trait. Nobody could remember who came up with the memory problems, but it was universally approved.

Seeing Grandpa Caffrey in action was a rarity. Something Alfred did to cheer them up when they really needed it.

Or on their birthdays. (And deathdays.)

Jason blinked.

What day was today again?

"Good. You're here." Peter said, unaware of the storm in his head. "This is the witness for the Main Street robbery, I need you get a description of what he's seen, preferably while he still remembers it."

"Robbery? Wh- " Neal broke off, looking bewildered.

He approached the man and started shaking his shoulder.

Peter wasn't sure what he thought Neal was going to say, but it was definitely anything but that.

"Grandpa? Gramps, wake up!"

The old man startled awake, almost taking Neal's head off with his cane.

"They've infiltrated!"

"No, Grandpa. It's me." Neal said, making Peter's jaw drop. All the agents on the floor suddenly got quiet.

The old man – Neal's grandfather, of course it's Neal's grandfather – looked around until he finally settled his gaze on the CI. He squinted.

"Napoleon – oh, you got me good there, kid. We could have used you back in Nam."

All the agents started looking around.

Is this really happening? Napoleon? Vietnam?

"Nam? What-? Never mind, Gramps – what are you doing here?" Neal asked, a bit louder.

"Waiting for my tea."

Neal blinked.

"Does Dad know you're here?" he suddenly asked. If Peter wasn't stumped before he surely was now. "Do you know where you are?" Neal changed the question.

"I'm surrounded by idjits. I've asked for a cup of tea yesterday and nothing!"

"This is the FBI, Gramps. Not the restaurant."

Confusion.

"What?"

"The feds, Gramps! You -"Neal said, raising his voice.

"Where?!" the old man cut him off, adjusting the grip on his cane and looking around for a fed target.

Three probies, plus Jones, took a step back.

Neal tried and failed to stiffen a smile. "It's nice to see you Grandpa."

"Yes, Dante's very happy with ENPA." The man responded. It took Peter a moment to figure out that he probably heard something else.

Neal snorted and got closer to his ear.

"I said it's nice to see you, Grandpa!" he said louder.

"Of course it is." The old man scoffed.

Diana couldn't stop grinning.

"This is awesome."

GC

"Napoleon?"

Neal snorted.

"Don't get excited. He can't remember my name, just that it starts with N." he explained with fond amusement. "In ten minutes it'll be something like Nick or Nico or Nino or Nathaniel or – "

"Nikolai! Tell the fed he's doing it wrong!" Grandpa Caffrey suddenly yelled from across the room.

"You're doing it wrong!" Neal yelled back without turning.

The fed in question dropped his head in shame.

GC

"Be honest with me on this one – Is he pretending to be deaf or...?"

"Oh, that. His hearing has gotten worse over the years and he refuses to go to the doctor because he thinks they're gonna chip him."

"Chip him?!" Peter took a deep breath. "Ask him about the robbery."

"Robbery? What robbery? Did I miss a family reunion or something?"

Peter stared at him.

GC

"There you go." Grandpa Caffrey suddenly said and threw a notebook at Jones. "Idjits."

There were sketches of the criminals, good enough for face recognition.

He's definitely a Caffrey.

"When did he drew all that?"

GC

"Am I going too fast for you, Suit?" the old man yells at Jones, once he realized no one was following him to the other side of the room.

His foot bumps into a stack of papers some intern forgot on the floor and he stumbles.

Four agents rush forward but the man somehow manages to catch himself on his cane before he could kiss the floor.

"Not as nimble as I was when I was eighty-eight, huh?" he chuckles.

GC

Grandpa Caffrey reached for Diana's hand and grabbed her scarf by accident. He lifted it to his lips and gave it a brief kiss.

"You have hands as soft as my bella, dear."

Diana grinned as Neal snorted.

GC

"You want something done right, you put a woman in charge, boy." Grandpa is telling Peter.

Agent Ruiz walked passed them in the hallway.

"Not that one."

GC

Grandpa Caffrey reached for his top hat and missed by a few inches, grabbing Neal's fedora right of his head. The CI blinked at the sudden lightness of his head, his hand reaching up and petting his hair in disbelief.

Diana raised her phone and took a picture.

Peter watched Neal take off after Grandpa Caffrey, stealing the top hat off his desk and placing it on his head on the way to the door, winking at Diana.

"Gramps! Elevator is this way!"

"Elevators are for old people. I'll race you!"

Neal quickened his pace.

"I'm telling Pops about this!"

"Tattletale!"

Chapter Text

GP

Peter would never admit this to Neal.

But the conman was one of the hardest criminals to catch in the history of the FBI. The James Bonds case was the one that made Peter's career. It took three years to catch him.

Grandpa Caffrey on the other hand...

Grandpa Caffrey was not leaving.

He left with Neal in a cab and the next day the CI showed up for work as usual, but then a few hours later the old man pretty much teleported next to Neal's desk when they blinked.

Every damn time they managed to escort him out of the building, Caffrey Senior was already up before they got out of the elevator.

The guards outside the building were ordered not to let him in. The agents working in the lobby were tasked to keep an eye out for the Caffrey Houdini that kept showing up. There were two interns purposely placed to monitor the security cameras looking for so much as a shadow of a top hat.

And yet...

And yet –

Grandpa Caffrey was everywhere.

He was tripping feds with his cane, moving around with paperwork in his hands, somehow always turning around and 'accidentally' whacking agents over the head with, until everyone learned to part ways when he was walking.

He kept giving Jones etiquette lessons and Peter headaches. He wouldn't stop flirting with Diana, much to her amusement.

Nobody knew he was looking through classified case files until he was yelling 'They did it wrong again, Nile!'.

He wouldn't stop stealing Peter's coffee and then complain about it.

He snuck inside an interrogation room with a suspect. By the time they realized what was happening, the suspect was crying and admitting everything they've ever done down to the last lunch money theft in primary school.

But Peter put his foot down when, a week after dealing with two Caffreys, he came home to his wife, laughing with the Devil Grandpa.

Next morning Peter got to June's half an hour earlier.

"He's got to GO."

Neal looked at him amused.

"I'm afraid removing him from anywhere is not a one-man job."

"Get it done or I'm throwing you back in prison."

Neal snorted.

"It's like telling me to move the sun or something. I can't do it alone. Either you learn to live with him around (which I would love to see), you and the FBI manage to make him stop (unlikely) or I call some people in and you close your eyes for the next... " Jason did a quick math. "Three days."

Peter didn't even hesitate.

"As long as nobody dies and your tracker is still on, you have permission for anything."

Jason grinned.

Any other time Peter would have been terrified. Now he was just desperate.

He watched Neal take out a phone that did not look like the one approved by the FBI, and type a few things in.

"Prepare to meet the family."

Wha-

No.

No, no –

Oh, no.

There's  more  of them.

GP

Day 1:  Regrouping

Three other guys and three other girls.

The entire FBI only managed to ID one of the guys – and even that was... odd, to say the least.

Alvin Draper. There was a file on him, a big one too, but it was 98% blackened with the word 'CONFIDENTIAL' slapped across it.

The youngest boy – Diego – was the embodiment of 'Assassin Creed' mixed with 'The Godfather'. He disappears into the shadows and drops from the vents. The FBI building suddenly became a haunted house.

The oldest guy, Bryce, could have passed for normal if he hadn't gotten in through the window from the sixth floor. And if it wasn't for that piece of conversation Peter was trying his best to forget...

"Did you call Benny?"

"Bryce died three years ago, Gramps." Neal said, not looking up from his phone.

"I didn't ask if he's dead, I asked if you called him."

"... I did."

"And?"

"He's on his way."

Grandpa Caffrey nodded, satisfied.

Peter's ears were ringing.

"What?!"

Neal shrugged.

GP

The girls were... something.

The redhead rolled up in a fancy wheelchair. Alvin called her 'O'?

The blonde one came in in full ballerina outfit. Shoes, tights, hair in a bun, the whole package. She looked like she could strangle a man with her feet.

Neal walked into the office that first day with the black haired one clinging koala-style to his back. Whether Neal was aware of that fact or not remains unclear.

Cora was apparently mute, but Peter didn't rule out the possibility of it being another con.

And the next few days were... illuminating.

GP

Damian still had the same amount of tact he had when he first met them. Not that Jason was any better.

"You look terrible."

"I missed you, too, you little gremlin."

Damian has a sword fight with Alfred. Umbrella vs cane.

Around the Caffrey family, the FBI agents suddenly feel under armed even with their guns strapped to their belts.

GP

Operation: Remove Gramps from the FBI

Brainstorming:

"Let's get a chopper – fly him home. He'll get distracted on the way back and forget to return?"

"I think Peter might have a stroke if we land a helicopter on the building."

"We can try to bribe him?"

"With what? He still owns everything!"

"Blackmail?"

"He'll eat us alive."

"... Extortion?"

"Good luck with that."

"We could call Dad."

"He'll laugh in our faces."

Grandpa Caffrey waved his cane from the other side of the room.

"He's doing it wrong!"

"You're doing it wrong!" yell all the batkids freakishly on sink.

Jason suddenly snapped his fingers.

"Tell him you'll race him home!"

"Why aren't you doing it?"

"I've got a radius. But you have fun."

GP

Tim got Grandpa Caffrey to Walmart.

Gramps was back in an hour. Alvin was back in two.

"What happened?"

"Yeah, so – long story short – we're officially banned from Walmart."

"?!"

"Also, this is Wally. :) " He declared, holding up a transparent bag with a traumatized looking fish swimming around.

GP

Cassandra rolled herself in a rug in one of the main offices and fell asleep. Peter tripped over her one morning and almost broke his neck.

GP

"Did you get my note?"

"Of course I got it. You taped it to my forehead while I was sleeping!"

GP

"Unfortunately, I'm pretty much the only one in the family who likes to think things through." Tim commented.

Jason snorted.

"Since when? I once saw you eat a marshmallow that was still on fire."

GP

"What are you drinking?" Jones asked Tim.

"Witchcraft." He answered, mixing black coffee, red bull and 6 expressos.

Jones took a step back.

GP

Song changes on the radio.

Tim groaned.

"I hate that song."

"Well, you have to admit it's catchy." Dick commended.

"The fucking plague is catchy too, that doesn't mean it's good."

GP

Neal: "What's the word for the thing?"

Dick: "What word?"

Neal: "The spritz spritz thing with the nozzle that looks like a drink but usually contains poison."

Peter: O_O

Neal: I can think of the word in every language I know but English.

Batfam: *knows every language Jason knows and could help in 0.4 seconds but nahh*

Dick: I don't know, bro, but I'm sure it will come to you.

*3 hours later*

Neal: *bursts into conference room* "SPRAY BOTTLE!"

Jones: *falls off chair*

Peter: "What even-"

GP

Day 2:

Tim sighs for the hundred time in the past hour. Peter is seconds away from strangling him.

"I'm booooored."

Neal doesn't even blink.

"Hi, bored. I don't give a shit."

Diana snorted into her coffee. It takes Tim another hour to stop laughing.

GP

The batboys race each other down the hall with the rolling chairs.

Dick falls out the window.

GP

"Jefferson! Tell Dean that I'm right!" Grandpa Caffrey yells at Jones.

The agent turned to look at them. At Damian's trademark glare he paled considerably.

"I – I would. But every time he looks at me like that, I go all cold inside!"

"Lay off on the fed, Demon Brat, this ain't prison!"

GP

"How was the coffee run with Jones? Did you behave with him like I asked you to?"

"Oh, that's what you were trying to say! I thought you said 'behead him' – you are so lucky I didn't listen to you!"

Jones took the rest of the week off.

GP

Dick's foot slipped. He ended up dangling outside a window.

"I deserve this! This is all because I forgot to feed my turtle, Sheldon, in sixth grade! He went to heaven, and now my life is bad!"

"Fucking Drama Queen..." Jason muttered, shaking his head.

"Are you happy, Sheldon?! We're even now!"

"Bryce!" yelled Jason.

Dick gasped.

"SHELDON?!"

GP

A sleep deprived Tim grabbed Peter by the elbow. His eyes were half closed and unfocused.

"Is it mean to lie to a cop? The guy just materialized in front of me and asked me where I was between 5 and 6 and I panicked."

"What did you tell him?"

"Kindergarten."

GP

Day 3:

"How many grandkids do you have?" asked Jones, having lost count of the Caffreys that seemed to be multiplying every day.

Grandpa Caffrey scratched his chin with the cane.

"No idea. But there's always more every Monday."

Diana leaned over her desk towards Caffrey Senior.

"Who's your favorite grandkid?" she asked, grinning as she watched Neal straighten in his seat.

Screams suddenly sounded from the hallway. Grandpa Caffrey didn't bother to turn towards it.

"Not that one."

GP

Damian smuggled Titus onto the White Collar floor.

The lion sized dog got excited when he saw Alfred on the other side of the room.

Agents: are bowling pins.

Titus: is a bowling ball.

STRIKE!

GP

Accidental Day 4:

An unlucky agent screams when he opens a cupboard for old case files and discovers a passed out Tim.

Jason stuffed him in there when he started drooling on his desk. Dick promised to take him when they were leaving and forgot.