Work Text:
Peter smiled at the orderly emerging from his patient’s room. "Morning, Mozzie."
"Morning, Doc."
"How's our favorite patient doing this morning?" Peter took the chart from its slot by the door and peered through the small window. The patient in question was sitting on the floor under the window, hunched over a sketchbook in deep concentration.
"He's good. Feeling pretty sassy, which is worlds better than Nick Halden. That guy's such a downer."
Peter chuckled. Nick was notoriously difficult to handle. "Who do we have today then?"
"A new one, as far as I know. Neal Caffrey? From what I could gather from a few rounds of chess, he thinks he's an art thief. Spent all night drawing like a fiend."
"Anything good?" Peter asked, interest piqued.
Mozzie produced a folded-up piece of sketchbook paper from the pocket of his scrubs and handed it to Peter. Peter unfolded it and paused at the unexpected but incredibly life-like portrait.
"Nurse Moreau? I thought he hated her."
Mozzie snorted. "Caffrey sure doesn't."
Peter nodded, tucking the drawing into the chart. "I'm going in."
"Godspeed," Mozzie saluted him then sauntered off to finish his rounds.
The young man didn't look up when Peter came in and sat on the edge of the bed. "Good morning, Neal."
"Morning, Agent Burke," Neal Caffrey muttered.
FBI? He could do worse, Peter thought, smiling as he flipped the chart open. This was always the best part of his day.
"All right, Neal. Let's get to work."
