Fic: "Best Laid Plans" 2/2 (White Collar)

[citrinesunset]

Title: Best Laid Plans
Fandom: White Collar
Characters/Pairing: Neal/Sara, Sara/OMC
Rating: Teen/PG-13
Word count: ~22k total. 10990 in this part
Summary: When Sara found out she was pregnant with Neal's child, their conflicting desires for the future closed the door on their relationship. Now, almost five years later, Neal is trying to establish himself as a legitimate businessman and a dedicated but long-distance father. When Sara moves back to New York, he sees an opportunity for a closer relationship with his son. But in order to do that, he needs to confront long-buried resentments between him and Sara.

Notes: Written for whitecollar_bb. Many thanks to slytheringurrl for making two great banners for this fic! She also has a post here where you can see them.





The following week, Neal was getting ready to meet Peter and Diana for lunch when his phone rang. Picking it up, he saw it was Sara. He balanced the phone between his ear and his shoulder and reached into his closet for a tie.

"Neal," Sara said when he answered, "thank God. Listen, I have a crisis on my hands. I thought I had the day off, but a Matisse was stolen last night, and I've been called in. Angel isn't available, and there's no one else to watch David. I need you to take care of him for a few hours."

He almost dropped the blue striped tie he'd selected. "What? No, I have to work, too. I have to meet Peter and Diana for lunch."

"Perfect. I'm sure Peter would love to see David."

"Yeah, but it's not exactly going to look professional if I bring him. Why can't he go to work with you?"

"Trust me, if I was just going in to the office, I'd suck it up and bring him. But I can't take him to this person's house. Forget professional—what if he got into something? I can barely take my eyes off him in our own home."

"What about a daycare? There have to be hundreds of them in Manhattan."

"Yeah, well, I've never used a daycare here, and I'm not going to drop David off at some random place without vetting first." She sighed, frustrated. "Look, you're the one who keeps saying you want to be involved in David's life. This is what being a parent is, Neal. You don't just get to have fun play dates when it's convenient for you. You have to be responsible, even when it's really fucking inconvenient. And if I can't rely on you, there's no point in you trying to be involved."

"Hey, you can't take him to work, either. Glass houses? But okay, fine, I can try to take him."

He heard a small sigh of relief on the other end.

"Thank you. Can you meet me outside Sterling Bosch in say...forty-five minutes? I have to run there to pick up the file on this missing painting."

"All right, fine."

Neal hung up and looked down at his phone. He didn't have to meet Peter for an hour and a half. That should be enough time to pick up David.

He was pretty sure he could find somewhere safe to leave David for a while. June would certainly agree to it if she was home, and while Neal didn't want to take advantage, this might count as an emergency. But Sara might disapprove, or accuse him of dodging his fatherly duty. Even though she used a full-time babysitter.

No, he'd just have to bring David along, and hope for the best.

He made it to Sterling Bosch by rushing, and was just in time to see Sara coming toward him from the other direction, pulling David along by the hand.

When they were closer, Neal saw that David was crying. His face was splotchy and red, and he had tears and snot running down his face.

"Don't leave me!" David said. "I wanna go to work with you!"

"You can't sweetie," Sara said, strained. "You get to spend the day with Daddy."

"But I wanna help you find the painting," David whined.

Sara crouched down. She adjusted the small Batman backpack David was wearing. "I know you do. But you can help me out by being really good for Daddy, okay?"

David didn't respond. Sara stood up and straightened her skirt.

"Okay," she said, "he should have everything he needs in his backpack. I packed some crackers in case he wants a snack. If there's any problem, call me."

"Hey, don't worry. Everything's going to be fine. David and I will have fun."

"Just keep an eye on him, okay?"

"I won't let him out of my sight."

"All right. Ground rules—"

"Seriously? We're doing this?"

Sara ignored him. "One, no Mozzie. I don't want David coming home telling me about how the moon landing was faked. Two, don't assume that just because he's four, he's not going to pick up on what you're talking about. I don't want him exposed to anything he shouldn't know about."

Neal cocked his head. "Come on, Sara, you know I gave all that up. What do you think I'm going to do, plan a museum heist while David's playing two feet away?"

"Finally, I want to be able to reach you. If I can't get in touch with you, or you don't give him back to me at the end of the day, this will be the last time I let you take him."

"Really? You're the one who needed me last-minute, so let's go easy on the rules, okay? Everything's going to be fine. I've got this."

Sara took a deep breath. "Just call me if there's any trouble."

She crouched down and rubbed the tears off David's cheek. She gave him a kiss on the forehead and said, "Mommy has to go to work now, okay? Have fun with Daddy."

As Sara disappeared into the Sterling Bosch building, David continued to cry.

"Hey, buddy," Neal said in a soothing tone. "What's the matter?"

"Mommy was supposed to be with me today."

"I know she was. But you'll see her later. And you get to go to lunch with me. Won't that be fun?"

David didn't answer. Neal took his hand and started looking for a cab.

After a couple minutes, he flagged one down. He took off David's backpack and guided him into the backseat. As the driver started taking them in the direction of the restaurant, David tapped Neal on the arm.

"What's a Matisse?" he asked.

Neal looked down at him. "It's a painting. Henri Matisse was a painter, and someone stole one of his paintings."

"Did he call the police?"

"Who, Matisse? No, he lived a while ago. A lot of people have his paintings now. This one was in someone's home, and it sounds like someone broke in and took it."

"Why?"

"Well, because people like Matisse's work. And the person who took it is probably going to sell it."

"How long is it going to take Mom to find it?"

Neal frowned. "Well, I don't know. No one does. She might not be able to find it. But the FBI is going to be looking for it, too."

"Can we help?"

"You mean, look for the painting?"

David nodded.

"I don't know about that. But if we do see anything, we'll call Mom right away, okay?"

That seemed to satisfy David, and he spent the rest of the ride looking out the window.

In the end, Neal managed to get to the restaurant right on time. Before going inside, he decided to establish some ground rules of his own.

"I have to talk to Peter and Diana about some very important stuff. If you finish your lunch and get bored, you can do some coloring, okay? I saw that your mom packed a coloring book and crayons for you."

David nodded. Neal squeezed his shoulders and smiled.

Taking care of David wasn't so bad. Sara was clearly underestimating his parenting abilities.

Neal took David's hand and stepped into the café. He spotted Peter and Diana immediately, already seated at a round table by a window.

Smiling apologetically, Neal said, "Sara has to investigate a stolen Matisse. There's no one else to care for him."

Peter nodded. He looked down at David, cleared his throat, and said, "So, you're David, huh?"

"Uh-huh," David said.

"Your parents have told me a lot about you."

Peter had adopted a faux-cheerful tone that was supposed to sound friendly, but actually betrayed that he had no idea how to act around David.

"The Matisse, huh?" Diana said. "We have that case, too."

"I figured you might," Neal said.

Neal took David's backpack off for him and hung it on the back of one of the empty chairs. He helped David up and then took a seat beside him.

"I hope you don't mind me bringing him," Neal said. "You know how it is—this stuff comes up last minute."

"It's fine," Peter said. "It's good to finally see the little guy."

"He's not as little as he was the last time you saw him."

"No, that's for sure."

Neal studied the menu. He hadn't given much thought to what David would eat, and he doubted David could read well enough to parse the menu.

Leaning to the side, Neal asked, "What are you hungry for?"

David thought for a moment, and then said, "Lobster."

"I don't think they serve lobster here. They have soup and sandwiches. Would that be good?"

He helped David choose a tuna salad sandwich and a small bowl of vegetable soup. Then he hurriedly picked out a sandwich for himself.

While they waited for their food to arrive, Peter began to discuss business.

"Here's the deal," he said. "The Bureau is willing to take you on as consultant. It's not a huge time commitment. Honestly, there won't be as much work for you as there was before."

"Because they're going to have to pay me more than prison wages?"

"Right. But hey, it's a good thing, right? You'll have plenty of time for your business."

Neal couldn't argue with that. He'd wanted flexibility, after all.

Looking at Diana, Neal said, "And I take it you're going to be my boss?"

"We'll be working together, yeah."

"With my new responsibilities," Peter said, "I'm not as involved in individual cases anymore."

It would be different, not working so closely with Peter. But he liked Diana.

Their food arrived, and Neal took a minute to make sure David had everything he needed before returning his attention to Peter and Diana.

David was remarkably quiet, and Neal forgot any reservations he'd had about bringing him along. He had been quiet at that age, too.

The job with the FBI, it seemed, was a done deal. All there was for them to do was discuss the particulars.

"Will I get my own desk again?"

"We'll see," Peter said. "For now, we'll just have you set up in the boardroom when you come in."

After a few more minutes, David tugged on Neal's sleeve.

"Daddy, I'm full."

Neal glanced at David's plate. He hadn't finished his food, but that was hardly surprising considering it was an adult-sized meal.

"Good job. I just have a little more to talk about with Peter and Diana. Do you want to color?"

"Okay."

Neal reached into David's backpack and found a Batman coloring book and a box of crayons. The crayons were well-used, with blunted tips and peeling paper. Neal pushed David's plate aside and laid out the coloring book for him.

A few minutes later, while Peter was telling him about some forms he would have to fill out, David tugged on Neal's sleeve.

"Daddy, look what I did."

Neal broke his gaze away from Peter and glanced down at David.

"David," he said gently, "I'm kind of busy right now."

"Look."

Neal looked at the page David had been coloring. He'd given Catwoman purple skin. "Wow, that's great! I'll tell you what—why don't you show me more later?"

For a minute, David seemed to accept that. Then, he climbed up on his knees, leaned on the table, and turned to Peter.

"Are you a policeman?"

Peter looked at him and blinked. "I'm an FBI agent."

Neal touched David's shoulder. "That's like a policeman. You've heard of the FBI, right? Mommy's probably mentioned them. Now c'mon, sit down."

David ignored him. "Are you going to find the Matisse?"

"We're going to try."

"Do you have kids?"

"No," Peter said flatly.

"David," Neal said, "that's enough."

"Do you have a doggy?"

"Yes, I do. I have a dog."

David looked at Diana, and asked, "Do you have a doggy?"

Diana looked unimpressed with David, and Neal decided it'd be best to intervene.

"All right, David, we need to do some work now. Why don't you do some more coloring so you can show me later?"

David reluctantly picked up a crayon and returned his attention to the coloring book. Diana took some forms out of her briefcase that Neal needed to fill out, and he cleared a spot on the table to work on them.

He was nearly finished when he noticed David fidgeting beside him.

"We're almost done," he said. "You just need to be patient for a few more minutes."

"But Daddy," David said in a hushed voice, "I have to go."

It took Neal a minute to realize what he meant. "Oh. You have to use the bathroom?"

David nodded frantically. "I have to go potty," he whispered.

Neal smiled at Peter and Diana and said, "Excuse me. We'll be just a minute."

He helped David off his chair and took his hand. They went to the back of the restaurant, where the restrooms were. It occurred to Neal that he had no idea if David needed help or supervision. He decided to follow David's lead and step in if he was needed.

As Neal led him into the men's room, David said, "Mom takes me to the other one."

"That's right. She can't take you into the men's room."

Thankfully, David seemed to know what he was doing. Neal stood by in case he was needed. When David was finished, Neal hoisted him up in front of the sink so he could wash his hands.

"There you go," Neal said as he set David down. "Now, let's dry your hands."

He grabbed a paper towel and when he turned around, David was gone. A few feet away, one of the stall doors slammed shut and Neal heard the latch close.

Neal walked over to the stall. "David? What are you doing in there?"

He could see David's feet under the door. The feet stamped up and down and David giggled.

"I know you're in there. You wanna open the door?"

David giggled again.

Neal gently pushed at the door, but it didn't budge. David didn't seem to be doing anything, and Neal considered ordering him to open the door. But he didn't want to be the bad guy—David was just trying to play, or maybe get attention. If he wanted to make himself look like an idiot, he could get down on his knees and see if he could reach under the door to undo the latch, but he didn't like that idea, either.

He decided to try another approach. "All right," he said casually, "you can stay in there. I'll see you back at the table."

He walked slowly to the door. David didn't react at first, and Neal started to worry that his bluff wasn't going to work. But then he heard the stall door swing open, and the sound of small running feet.

David ran up to him and wrapped his arms around Neal's leg. His hands were still damp, and the water soaked through to Neal's skin.

Neal squeezed his shoulder and took his hand. "C'mon. Let's get back to Peter and Diana."

David was cooperative for the remainder of the lunch, and Neal felt pretty proud of himself. It hadn't been the smoothest meeting he'd ever had, but it was far from the worst.

As they left the cafe, Neal checked his phone for messages from Sara. There was no word yet, so Neal nailed a cab and took David back to his place.

He considered taking David somewhere else. He wanted to start taking David to all the art museums that didn't have a restraining order against him. But he wasn't sure when Sara would get done with work, and David was still restless.

He took David back to his place. David bee-lined to the TV.

"Can I watch TV? I bet my favorite show is on."

"Sure."

As he turned on the TV, Neal immediately began to regret it. He'd been hoping to do some painting, and he preferred to work without background noise. But then he realized that simply having David around would be a distraction he wasn't used to. He'd never gone about his daily routine with David around before, and until now he hadn't quite grasped that being a father meant sacrificing some of his privacy and autonomy. He supposed he would just have to get used to background noise. It wasn't as though he hadn't managed before—prison was never quiet.

Neal helped David flip through the channels until David found the cartoon he wanted to watch. David sprawled out on the floor and took his Batman action figure out of his backpack.

Neal took off his shirt, leaving himself in his pants and undershirt. He started to get out his paints and brushes. He was about halfway done with a forgery of Monet's Springtime. Or rather, a reproduction. It never ceased to fascinate Neal how things had different names when they were legal. 'Reproduction' instead of 'forgery,' 'sting' instead of 'con.' Aside from the names, they weren't always so different.

Neal was just about to leave a brushstroke on the canvas when the TV blared behind him.

"Hey, can you turn that down?" Neal said, speaking over the noise.

"But I wanna see how loud it goes!"

"Yeah, I don't think that's a good idea. It might hurt our ears."

Neal was about to set down his brush, but then David turned the volume down. Neal found he could mostly ignore David's cartoon when it was at a sensible volume, and he set to work painting.

He'd been at it for a while when David came up beside him and said, "My show's over. Can I help you paint?"

Neal smiled. "Thanks. I don't know if I have anything for you to do right now, but if I do, I'll ask, okay?"

David nodded.

"Tell you what," Neal said, "how about we get you some paints of your own sometime? Would you like that?"

"Yeah! I like painting!"

Neal thought, but he didn't have anything on hand that would be good for David to use. He would have to see what non-toxic, child-friendly paint he could buy.

As he tried to think of an activity to suggest, a key turned in the front door. There was only one other person who had a key to Neal's apartment.

Mozzie came in and froze when he saw David.

"Oh. I didn't realize you had the spawn here today." He looked around cautiously. "Is Sara around?"

"Sara had to work unexpectedly." Neal set down his brush. To David, he said, "This is Mozzie."

Mozzie went straight over to David. Bending over with his hands on his knees, Mozzie said, "There's definitely a strong resemblance."

"Yeah, he's definitely my son," Neal said brusquely. "Can I have a word?"

Taking the hint, Mozzie followed Neal over to the kitchen.

"What is it?" Mozzie asked.

Neal put his hands in his pockets. This wasn't a conversation he wanted to have.

"Look, Sara isn't crazy about the idea of you hanging around David. It's nothing personal—she's just wary right now. She's worried David is going to overhear stuff about, you know, activities that aren't exactly legal."

"What? Sara doesn't trust me around your kid? She doesn't think I'm capable of child-friendly conversation? And you agree with her?"

"No, I don't agree. I just don't want—"

"I'll tell you what this is: it's an injustice! She has no right to dictate your social life. Especially me—I'm his godfather!"

Neal clicked his tongue. "Actually, Moz, you're not."

"I should be! Who else is going to keep your son safe when the bomb hits?"

"The bomb? What is this, 1950? Look, I'm not gonna kick you out. I'm just saying be careful, okay? I don't want to mess this up."

"As if I would do anything to jeopardize your little custody battle."

"It's not a battle, but thank you."

They walked back into the living room. In their absence, David had grabbed the brush Neal had set aside. He was standing on his tip-toes, poking the canvas with the brush.

Neal rushed over. "No, no. Don't touch that, okay?" He took the brush from David and surveyed the damage. David had managed to paint a small streak across the bottom of the canvas, but it was fixable.

"I wanted to help," David said.

"I know, but you can't play with these paints. And I don't want you to get your clothes dirty."

Between David and Mozzie, Neal didn't expect to get any more painting done. He starting putting away his paints, and while he cleaned his brush in turpentine, Mozzie poured himself a glass of wine and sat down in front of the TV. David lay on the floor on his stomach and played with his Batman figure.

Neal was just finishing when his phone rang. He dried his hands and answered it.

"Hello?"

"Mr. Caffrey? This is Anne Ritter, Mr. Franklin's assistant?"

Franklin was a man Neal had done some authentication work for recently.

"Ah, yes. What can I do for you?"

"I'm in your neighborhood, and I have some information on a piece that Mr. Franklin is thinking of purchasing. It's an eighteenth-century Indian statue. He was very pleased with your work last week, and he'd love it if you'd help him evaluate this piece's provenance."

Neal looked at David and Mozzie. "I'm not sure if today's the best time. Will you be around later, by any chance?"

"It'll just take a minute. Mr. Franklin gave me a check to give to you, and he'll pay you whatever else you charge him when the job is done."

A check. That sounded promising.

"Yeah, I can meet you really quick."

She gave him the name of a bar that was a few blocks away.

Neal hung up and grabbed his shirt. As he put it on, he said, "Hey, Moz, I need to step out for ten minutes. That was someone who wants to give me more work. Do you think you could keep an eye on David?"

Mozzie stuck out his chin like a petulant cat. "Well, some people don't think I should be trusted around impressionable children.

"C'mon, Moz. I know you can manage it."

Mozzie rolled his eyes. "Yeah, like there's any doubt. Go! I'll hold down the fort."

Neal felt some misgivings, but reassured himself that he wouldn't be gone long enough for anything bad to happen.

He paused in front of the mirror on the living room wall to make sure he was presentable, and then hurried downstairs. He rushed to the bar, found Anne Ritter, and handled the deal as quickly as possible.

He rushed home with the file and the check, but in the end, it was still close to twenty minutes before he returned.

At first, when he stepped inside, everything appeared okay. Aside from the TV, everything was quiet.

A little too quiet.

Neal walked over to the sofa. Mozzie was stretched out, sleeping with his head propped up on the sofa arm. David was nowhere to be seen.

"Mozzie," Neal said. "Moz!"

The TV droned on in the background.

"I was in some sort of secret government lab. I asked one of the doctors why they were doing this to me, and the guy said, 'When people are taken by the aliens, they come back different.' And I asked him, you know, was I still human? What did those aliens do to me? But he wouldn't say. Those government scientists did tests on me for three days, and then...."

"Moz!" Neal said, more loudly. "Where's David?"

Mozzie jerked awake. As he sat up, Neal noticed something strange on his head. There were black scribbles on the top of his head that looked like they'd been drawn on with a marker. There was an uncapped Sharpie on the coffee table.

"Where's David?" Neal asked again.

Mozzie looked around. "I don't know. He was right here a minute ago."

Neal pointed to the TV. "And do you really think that's a good show for him to watch?"

"If you ask me, kids should know what the government is doing to cover up alien abductions."

Neal threw up his hands in exasperation. He went into the bathroom, but there was no sign of David in there, either. Next, he went into the master bedroom.

That was where he found David. He was jumping up and down on Neal's bed.

"Hey!" Neal said. "Don't do that! You're going to hurt yourself."

David barely even slowed down. Neal grabbed him in mid-jump and sat him down on the bed.

Neal put his hands on his hips. "Did you draw on Mozzie's head?"

"I wanted to give him some hair."

"You shouldn't draw on people like that. And I don't want you to use those markers, okay?"

David crossed his arms. "But it's fun."

From the living room, Mozzie cried out.

"Neal! Did you see what your son did to my head?"

Holding up a finger, Neal said. "No jumping, okay?"

He went out into the living room, where Mozzie was examining his head in the mirror.

"It'll be fine," Neal said. "I'm sure it'll wash off."

"He drew on my head! With a Sharpie!"

"Maybe you shouldn't have fallen asleep."

But as Neal said the words, a potential problem presented itself to Neal. Was David prone to doing things like this? Would he do it to Neal in the middle of the night? He wished there was a way to ask Sara without telling her what had happened.

Mozzie spent several minutes in the bathroom cleaning his head. When he emerged, he said he needed to go.

"Watching your son was an invigorating challenge, but if you'll excuse me, I have business to attend to."

"All right. Hey, could you do me a favor?"

"Does it involve more babysitting?"

"No. A Matisse was stolen. Sara's looking for it."

"Ah, and you're hoping to get into her good graces by helping her recover it?"

Neal shrugged. "David just doesn't like that she had to go into work unexpectedly."

"Well, I did hear something this morning about Jesse Lambert looking for a buyer for a Matisse. He screwed me over a few months ago, so I don't mind if you rat him out."

"I'll let Sara know. Thanks."

It was another couple hours before Sara called to pick up David. When she asked how things had gone, Neal said it was fine—which was mostly true.

After hanging up, he went to tell David, who was doing more coloring.

"Hey, you mom's coming to pick you up. She's all done with work."

David's face brightened. "Is Hank still coming to our house tonight?"

"I don't know," Neal said with a frown. "She didn't say anything about that. Who's Hank? Is he a friend?"

"He's Mommy's boyfriend."

Neal froze. Sara had said nothing about having a boyfriend. She'd only been back in New York a few months—when could she have started a relationship? Perhaps David didn't understand.

"Does your mom see Hank a lot?"

"Yeah. They go out together, and sometimes I stay with Angel all night."

Overnight dates. That made things pretty clear.

Neal was inexplicably upset by this. It wasn't like he expected Sara not to date. She'd had a boyfriend a couple years ago, an artist who did mixed media work, and Neal had liked him. But the fact that Sara hadn't told him about this relationship made it feel insidious.

He planned to confront Sara, but by the time she actually arrived, he'd realized how futile it would be.

Even so, it was hard to mask his unhappiness when he saw her. Luckily, David demanded so much of her attention that she didn't seem to notice.

"Thanks again," she said to Neal. "You really did save the day."

Mustering up some cheerfulness, Neal said, "It was great seeing him."

"He didn't cause any trouble."

"No, he was great."

Sara helped David put his backpack on. As they turned to leave, Neal stopped her.

"By the way, I might have a lead on that Matisse. I called up some people, and it sounds like a fence named Jesse Lambert has put it on the market. Might be worth looking into."

"Thanks, I will."

As Sara led David out into the hall, Neal pushed down the urge to ask about Hank.

* * *

"You were right about Lambert," Sara said. "He did have the Matisse. FBI apprehended him this morning, will probably give him a deal if he tells them who took the painting."

"That's great," Neal said.

They were outside the Durant Academy. Today was an open house, and Neal had insisted on coming along.

He was glad to hear about the Matisse. And as far as fences went, Lambert had always been unreliable and dishonest. If Mozzie didn't feel bad about ratting him out, Neal saw no reason to.

"Mozzie told you about Lambert, didn't he?" Sara said.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, he came over that day. Even though I said not to let him."

Neal sighed. "You can't seriously expect me to turn away my friends. It was fine. He loved seeing David."

"Well, I don't know if I'd say it was 'fine.' Ever since you watched him, David's been talking about aliens and secret government labs."

Neal cringed. "That was just some show Mozzie turned on. It won't happen again. I promise. Look, you can't expect me to just not let Mozzie come over. He's used to practically living out of my place."

David was running around nearby. The school had lush, fenced-in front lawn.

"Yeah, I guess you guys are a package deal, huh?"

"Besides," Neal said, "You didn't tell me about Hank."

Sara froze. "Who told you about Hank?"

"David did."

Taking a deep breath, Sara said, "Look, I wasn't planning on meeting anyone. It just happened."

"I don't mind if you date. I just wish you'd been honest."

"I didn't lie. I never said I wasn't seeing anyone."

"But why didn't you just tell me?"

"Because," Sara said with a scoff, "it's none of your business."

"But it is. I want to know who's spending time around my son. Can I at least meet this guy?"

"I don't know. I guess so. Can we just drop it? It's not even that serious."

"Well, David's noticed that you spend the night with him. That's sounds pretty serious to me."

It came out more harshly than Neal intended. Sara didn't respond.

Before Neal could try to smooth things over, the front door of the school opened and someone came out to invite the parents inside.

The Durant Academy was one of the nicer preschools in Manhattan. While the children played in one of the classrooms, the visiting parents were led on a tour. Neal would have loved to spend his days in a place like this when he was David's age—surrounded by books and toys. Even though the cost was still an issue, he no longer felt as bothered that Sara had wanted help with the tuition. For David, it was worth it.

* * *

When the open house was over, Neal returned to Sara's house with her and David. He intended to say goodbye to David and then head home.

But there was already someone at the house when they got there. A man with sandy hair was sitting on the front porch. He was built like a linebacker.

"Hank?" Sara said with surprise.

The man—the infamous Hank—stood up and gave her a hug. "Hey, I hope it's okay I dropped by. I remember you said the open house would be done around three, and I thought I'd see if you wanted me to look at that sink in the upstairs bathroom."

"Y-yeah, that'd be great. Hank, this is Neal Caffrey. David's father."

Hank reached out and gave Neal a firm, almost bone-breaking handshake. "Oh yeah, great to meet you. I'm Hank Devereaux. Sara says you're some sort of consult?"

"I authenticate artwork. I haven't heard what you do."

"I'm a sports writer. New York Times."

Neal had to admit that was impressive. Even so, he couldn't see Sara with this man. He realized he'd imagined someone who, well, was more like him.

Realizing he'd suddenly become the third wheel, Neal said, "Well, I should head on. Good to meet you."

He hugged David goodbye and got back in the cab he'd just vacated.

* * *

True to Peter's word, Neal was able to start work at the FBI soon. It wasn't like it used to be. He didn't work there every day anymore, and they only called him in when they needed him. But it was nice to be back in his old environment, even if it had new faces and was missing some old ones.

One afternoon, a few weeks after meeting Hank, Neal came in to drop off a report on a Raphael forgery that Diana had requested from him.

Diana wasn't at her desk, so Neal dropped off the report beside her computer. Looking up, he saw Peter in what used to be Hughes's office. He was trying to hang a frame on the wall.

Neal went up and rapped on the door.

"Need a hand?"

Peter looked over his shoulder. "That'd be great. Tell me, does this look straight?"

Neal stepped into the office for a better look. Peter was hanging up his Harvard diploma.

"Looks good. A little higher on the left. There you go."

"Mind handing me that hammer? And a nail?"

There was a hammer and some nails on the desk. Peter had already made the desk his own. His favorite mug was sitting beside a picture of him and Elizabeth. Neal handed Peter the hammer and a nail, and Peter handed him the diploma to hold. Peter drove the nail into the wall and traded Neal the hammer for the diploma.

As he was positioning the frame on the nail, Peter said, "You know, Neal, I can tell when you want something."

Of course he could.

"Sara has this new boyfriend...."

Peter clicked his tongue. "That's rough."

"It's not like I'm jealous."

"No, of course not," Peter said.

Maybe Neal was imagining it, but Peter's tone didn't sound that believing.

"Sara and I have been broken up for years. She's dated other guys. It's just...don't you think this is a little fast? She just moved back here."

"Sara has good judgment. I'm sure she's fine."

"Yeah, of course. But you know, there's David....I'd just feel better if I knew more about this Hank guy."

"Let me guess: you want me to look into him."

"It'd just take a few minutes."

"No. I'm not going to use FBI resources to investigate Sara's boyfriend. Can't you just google the guy?"

"I already have. The guy's perfect on paper. He played college football, and now he's a sports writer for the New York Times. He's divorced, and he's got a 14-year-old daughter he sees every other week."

"Sounds like an upstanding guy."

"I don't know. I can't exactly see Sara dating a football player."

"Oh yeah," Peter said dryly, "playing football is a real warning sign. Real serial killer material, there."

Neal cocked his head. "Come on. Just look into him?"

Peter threw up his hands. "All right, fine. I'll take a peek."

"His name's Harold Devereaux. Goes by Hank."

"Got it. Hey, since you're here, how'd you like to get together for lunch tomorrow? Around one-ish? You've been around the office, but I've barely had a chance to say hello to you."

"Sara's letting me have David for a while tomorrow. I was going to take him to Central park."

Peter frowned. "Ah. Well, what if we did lunch in the park? We could get some food and catch up while David plays."

That sounded doable. And Neal would have David for hours, so he could still have some one-on-one time before meeting Peter.

"Sounds great. I'll plan on it." Neal looked at his watch. "I should get going. I have to meet this guy at four o'clock to authenticate a painting."

"Hey, if it's a forgery, let us know. I could use a break from bureaucratic work."

Neal promised he would and headed for the elevator.

* * *

It was a nice day for the park. The early August heat had been stifling all week, but there was finally a cool front that lowered the temperature a few degrees.

After eating a quick lunch, Neal and Peter found a spot by the duck pond to talk while David played. David had brought a ball, but he'd mostly abandoned it in favor of running around with his Batman figure.

"I'm telling you, Neal, the guy's a saint. He totally checks out. Don't look so disappointed."

"I'm not disappointed. I just...I don't know about the guy. There's something off about him."

"You know what it is?" Peter said.

"What?"

"He's not like you. You still have some feelings for Sara, and seeing her with this Hank guy is making you feel like she doesn't need you anymore."

"I'm not jealous of Hank. I wasn't jealous when she was dating Kiyoshi."

"Kiyoshi was an artist. He was the same height as you, same build...."

Neal looked over to where David was playing. "Hey, don't go too close to the water," he called out.

To Peter, he said, "I don't have feelings for Sara. That's over."

Peter shrugged. "If you say so."

"Let's talk about you. How's the new job?"

"It's...it's all right. To be honest, I didn't realize how much I'd miss going out in the field. I'm trying to back off, let Diana do her thing. But it's tough."

"Yeah. You're probably not going to catch any more Neal Caffreys."

Peter chuckled. "Oh, trust me, there's only one Neal Caffrey."

"And you caught me. Twice."

"Aren't we up to three times, now?"

"My point is, you've done more than a lot of agents have."

The conversation was interrupted by David running over, crying loudly. He rushed over to Neal and tugged at his pant leg.

"Hey," Neal asked, concerned. "What is it?"

David gestured frantically at the duck pond. "It's Batman! He's in the water and the ducks have him!"

Neal looked at the pond and frowned. "You put Batman in the pond?"

David sobbed. "I wanted to make him swim. And then a duck came and tried to attack us. Batman's still in the water."

Neal's eyes widened. "David, I told you not to get too close to the water. It isn't safe."

But David wasn't hearing it. Clinging to Neal, he said, "Daddy, you have to get Batman."

Neal got up and walked to the edge of the pond. But there was no sign of David's toy.

Neal was still looking intently at the water a minute later, when Peter came up beside him.

"Neal..." Peter said, his voice going into a tone that Neal hadn't heard in years, "if you're thinking of going in that pond, don't. That water is filthy, and you're never going to find the toy."

Deep down, Neal knew he was right. It was hopeless. But David was still clinging to him, crying.

Slowly, Neal crouched down to his level. "David, I'm sorry, but I think Batman's gone."

"No! He can't be gone!"

"You shouldn't have put him in the pond," Peter said.

That only made David cry harder, and Neal glared at Peter.

"Listen," Neal said to David, "we have some time before you have to go back to your mom. We can go to the toy story and get you a new Batman. How about that?"

David shook his head. "No! It won't be the same!"

Neal frowned. He'd never been able to accept it when there wasn't anything he could do.

Nevertheless, he took David to a toy store after they left the park, hoping that getting a new action figure would cheer David up, anyway. But David remained stubbornly unenthused, even when Neal bought him a new Batman.

That night, Neal got on eBay and browsed through the thousands of Batman action figures for sale. Mozzie, who'd come over earlier in the evening, sat beside him at the table.

After what felt like a million pages of search results, Mozzie said, "That's it! That's the one David had."

Neal looked at the result Mozzie had indicated. "Are you sure?"

"Photographic memory, remember? I almost stepped on David's when he was over here. Got a pretty good look at it."

That was good enough for Neal. And at least the action figure was selling for cheap. It was only a year old. Neal placed the bid.

The action figure arrived a few days later. When Sara and David came over for lunch the following weekend, Neal presented it to him.

David's eyes brightened when he saw it. "You got Batman!" He took the toy from Neal and looked at it closely. "Is it really him?"

Neal hesitated. His instinct was to lie to David, but a bigger part of him thought he should try to avoid that, even if it was for a good cause.

"He's probably not the one the mean ducks took," Neal said, "but he's just like him."

To Neal's relief, David didn't look too disappointed by that. He hugged the toy and then hugged Neal.

Sara looked impressed. "How did you even find that thing? I looked online to see if they still sold them, but I couldn't even remember what it looked like."

Neal shrugged. "Honestly, I just lucked out."

* * *

Though Sara may have had her reservations, when David started preschool, she quickly allowed Neal to get into the routine of picking him up in the afternoon.

He suspected that practicality won out above anything else. David got out of school a few hours before she got off work, and this way, there was no need to arrange for childcare now that Angel had gone back to college.

So five days a week, Neal picked up David outside the Durant Academy. From there, they would go on outing, or go back to Neal's place.

He bought the best quality child-safe paints he could find, and would let David paint when he did.

On other days, they went to museums. Neal took him to the Met and the Guggenheim.

It wasn't always easy. When Neal took him to the Museum of Natural History, he turned his back for what seemed like only a second, and turned around to find that David had slipped past a barrier and was trying to climb on one of the massive fossils. He thought it best not to tell Sara about that.

But overall, they managed to slip into a routine that, while not effortless, at least felt natural.

One afternoon, David was more quiet than usual. Usually, he couldn't stop talking while Neal took him home and prepared a snack for him. But today, he just sat idly at the table while Neal made a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

"Something wrong?" Neal asked.

"Were you really in prison?"

That was the last thing Neal was expecting. He'd expected to have a few years yet before David knew anything about that.

He stepped away from the counter and sat down at the table. "Did your mother tell you that?"

David shook his head. "I was in bed and I heard Mom and Hank fighting."

"They were fighting?" Neal asked with a frown.

"Uh huh. Hank said I shouldn't be with you because you were in prison."

Neal took a deep breath and pushed aside his hatred of Hank. "I did go to prison, but it was a long time ago, before you were born."

"Did you hurt someone?"

He pondered how much to tell him, and decided that David was too young to understand the finer points of bond forgery. "No. I stole from people. It was wrong, and I don't do it anymore."

"How long did they put you in prison?"

"Four years."

"Wow...."

"After a while, they let me out, but I had to stay here in New York for a few more years. That's why I couldn't go live with you and Mom when you were born."

"Is prison scary?"

"It can be. There are some bad people in prison, but there are some nice people, too."

"Then why doesn't Hank want me to come here?"

"Well, he doesn't know me too well. I bet once we get to know each other, he'll realize he was wrong. Okay?"

David nodded. "Okay."

Neal gave his shoulder a squeeze, and then went back to making the sandwich.

* * *

He didn't talk to Sara about what David had overheard for a few weeks. He was over at Sara's house for dinner, and this time, he was helping cook. Or rather, he was cooking while Sara stood by and occasionally helped.

"The other day," she said, "I heard some of the other parents whose kids are in David's class are giving their kids tutoring. To give them a head start for kindergarten and first grade. It didn't even occur to me to do anything like that with David."

"There's no need, is there? He can keep up with the work."

"Well, I don't think there's any need. But I never realized how competitive preschool and kindergarten could be."

"I don't know, if you ask me, the Durant Academy just wants to be prestigious."

"I thought you liked the school."

Neal shrugged. "I do. There just seems to be a lot of work for preschool. David's already bright for his age. He probably doesn't need to spend as much time practicing the alphabet as they have him doing."

"Hm. Maybe you're right."

Neal was standing at the stove, stirring a pot of spaghetti sauce. He handed the spoon over to Sara so that he could check on the pasta.

"A few weeks ago," he said, "David told me he overheard you want Hank fighting."

Sara whipped her head to look at him. "What?"

"I mean, I think it was just an argument. But he said he heard Hank say he shouldn't spend time with me. Because of my past."

Sara winced. "Damn it. I thought David was asleep. Neal, I'm sorry...."

"I'm not the one who was upset by it."

"I'll talk to David. And for the record, I told Hank he was out of line. He didn't mean anything. He had a bad divorce a few years ago, and he has a hard time trusting exes. He's just trying to protect me and David."

That didn't make Neal feel much better, but at least he knew Sara was on his side.

"You've been really good with David," she said. "Hank's problem is his problem."

* * *

David started planning for Halloween in early October. Sara explained to Neal that while she'd taken him trick or treating in England, it hadn't been as big of a deal there. Sara bought David an orange pumpkin pail for his candy, and David carried it with him for a full week.

One afternoon, Neal took David with him to the federal building after picking him up for school. Peter had a file for Neal to take home to study, and met them outside the building.

When David saw Peter, he held up his bucket and said, "Trick or treat!"

Peter started at him blankly. "It's not Halloween yet."

David held the bucket up higher. "Trick or treat!" he said, he voice more insistent.

With a sigh, Peter dug into his pocket. He tossed a quarter in David's pumpkin pail.

When Halloween finally came, Sara invited Neal to help her take David Trick or Treating in her neighborhood. David dressed up like Batman, and whined when Sara made him wear a jacket over his costume. But when he finally got outside, he was so excited that Neal had to hold his hand to keep him from running off.

At Thanksgiving, Neal suggested he make dinner at Sara's house. She had a larger kitchen, and Neal knew that Sara wouldn't be as confident about cooking a meal. Neal had never made a proper Thanksgiving dinner before. Growing up, his family hadn't had much. And Thanksgiving in prison was nothing to be thankful for.

Sara insisted on inviting Hank, whose daughter was spending Thanksgiving with his ex. It was a small concession to make. Hank arrived a half hour before the turkey was due to be done.

All the other cooking was complete. Neal stepped out of the kitchen to visit with David, who was watching the Macy's parade on TV.

When he headed back to the kitchen to check on the food, he heard hushed, angry voices inside. He paused outside the doorway and listened.

"I'm just saying," Hank said. "My daughter is with my ex today, but you don't see me trying to fit in at the table."

"Neal is making us dinner!" Sara hissed. "And even if he wasn't, this is my house, and he's welcome here."

Neal waited until things were quiet to enter. When he did, Sara and Hank were leaning against the counter, not looking at each other.

* * *

During the whole month of November, Neal focused on decorating David's bedroom. David had yet to use it, but when he did, Neal wanted it to be perfect. He furnished it, and selected bright blue and green bed sheets. Because he was renting, he couldn't make many permanent alterations to the room. But there was plenty he could do that wasn't permanent.

It was shortly after Thanksgiving when he got the perfect idea for what to do with the room. He bought large pieces of plywood, and talked Mozzie into letting him use one of his safe houses to carve the tops of the wooden sheets into the shape of a city skyline.

Next, he started painting.

In all, the project took a few weeks to complete. Then, it was just a matter of letting the paint dry and waiting for an opportunity.

A couple weeks before Christmas, Sara got called out of town unexpectedly.

"Sterling Bosch has a big client in France," she told him. "Guess who has to make an emergency trip over there?"

Neal commiserated, but it was hard not to be happy. With Sara going out of town, the only logical choice was to let David stay with him.

He went to Sara's house to see her off and pick up David. David clung to Sara as she tried to carry her suitcases out to the waiting cab.

"I don't want you to go," he said.

"I know, sweetie. But I'll be back in a few days."

"What if you miss Christmas?"

She kissed him on the head. "I won't, baby. Christmas isn't for a couple more weeks."

Neal's excitement wavered when he saw David's distress. After Sara's cab pulled away, Neal looked at the to-do list Sara had given him and tried to sound cheerful.

"Okay. Do you want to feed your fish before we go?"

Taking care of Mirabelle never failed to lift David's spirits. Since they would have to feed her again before Sara came home, at least Neal would have an excuse to bring David home for a bit. That might help if he got homesick. Sara had given him a spare key a month ago, just in case he ever needed it.

Neal helped David get up on a step stool. He handed him the fish food.

"Careful, now. You don't want to give her too much."

"Nope. Then she could die. Like Batman's parents."

David shook a little fish food in the tank.

"Good job," Neal said.

Neal grabbed David's bag and double-checked that the back door was locked.

When they got back to Neal's apartment, David grew apprehensive again.

"It'll be okay. You've spent the night without Mommy before, remember?"

"But it's almost Christmas. What if she's late?"

"She won't be. Trust me."

"But if she is, and I'm here, how will Santa find me."

"If you are here, Santa will know. I'll tell him personally. How about that?"

That seemed to reassure David.

"Come on," Neal said. "I want to show you your bedroom. I've got a surprise for you."

He led David to the small second bedroom which, until now, David had barely seen or used. Now, the walls were lined with the plywood cut-outs, which had been painted to look like a city. Tiny people looked out windows and walked along the streets. The Joker was carrying bags of money out of a bank. And on one rooftop not far from David's bed, the dark outline of Batman stood against the night sky, watching over the city.

David's eyes widened. He went around the room examining each painted building before climbing up on the bed.

"It's Batman!"

"It's Batman. And look at this."

Neal switched off the overhead light and turned on the nightlight he'd installed in the corner. The light projected the Bat Signal onto David's ceiling.

David was transfixed by it. Neal knelt by the bed.

"Do you like it? I thought it could be like an early Christmas present."

"It's the best room ever!"

"I figured you might stay over again, and that you should have a good room. And when you come over after school, you can play in here."

Neal played in the room for the rest of the afternoon. Neal coaxed him out for lunch and dinner, and David came running out willingly when they got a call from Sara that evening, saying that she'd arrived safely in Paris.

Neal tried to tuck David into bed at eight o'clock, but David soon came out, complaining that he wasn't tired. It was Friday—no need to get up for school in the morning, and Neal decided it wouldn't hurt to let David stay up.

Neal worked on a painting, and David lay on the sofa, watching him. At some point, Neal looked over and realized that David had fallen asleep. He put aside his brush, gently picked David up, and put him back in his bed.

Much later, Neal was asleep in his own bed when he woke up to David's voice.

"Dad?"

Neal opened his eyes. The illuminate clock on the nightstand said it was three in the morning.

He cleared his throat. "What is it?"

"I'm scared. I miss Mommy."

"It's okay. Mommy will be home soon. And you've got Batman, remember?"

"I know. But I want you."

David's voice was too pathetic to send him away. Neal considered the possibility that he was being manipulated, but quickly decided that it didn't matter. He moved aside and patted the bed.

"C'mon."

David climbed up and lay down beside him.

"Can we call Mommy?" he asked.

Neal was about to say no, but then reconsidered. It would be later in Paris. Sara was likely up.

"We'll give it a try," he said.

He picked up his cell phone off the nightstand and dialed Sara's number. It went to voicemail.

"Hey," he said, "nothing's wrong. David just misses you. We thought we'd see if you were available to say hi. Talk to you later."

David was clearly disappointed, but Neal said, "It's okay. She'll call you as soon as she can."

It only took an hour for Sara to call back. Neal had dozed off again, but the vibration of his phone woke him up.

"Sorry I bothered you," he said.

"It's nothing. Is David all right?"

"He's sleeping now. He's fine."

"That's good. Don't wake him up. Let him rest."

"Is that Mommy?"

"Too late. He just woke up." He pulled the phone away from his ear and handed it to David, who was looking up at him groggily. "Say hi to your mom."

David talked to Sara for a minute before handing the phone over, and quickly fell back to sleep.

* * *

Sara's flight was supposed to arrive at three o'clock on Monday afternoon. But snow hit Paris on Sunday night, and her flight was delayed.

She still hadn't come in when nigh came, and Neal had to send a disappointed David to bed.

It was almost eleven when there was a knock on the door. Neal hadn't gotten any news in hours, but he knew before he answered the door that it would be Sara.

"I'm sorry I didn't call," she said as she came in. She pulled her rolling luggage behind her. "My phone is dead from all the calls I made while I was stuck in Paris."

"Don't worry about it. Are you okay?"

She sighed. "Aside from being stuck in an airport terminal for hours? Peachy. How's David?"

"He's sleeping now."

Sara pursed her lips and thought for a moment. "You know, if he's really resting, I can come back and pick him up in the morning. There's no need to wake him up."

The idea of having David for a few more hours was nice. But Neal couldn't bring himself to agree.

"He was really disappointed when you didn't come home on time. He's convinced you're going to miss Christmas. Even though I've told him it's a couple weeks away."

"I guess I should let him know I'm home then. I should go get him. I won't make him get dressed. We're going straight home, anyway."

Neal looked at Sara. She looked like she was ready to collapse. She could barely pull her luggage.

"I'll tell you what," Neal said. "Why don't you just stay here tonight? You have my bed." He saw some suspicion in her eyes, and quickly said, "I'll sleep on the sofa."

She sighed. "I wouldn't want you to do that. It's not a big deal to get a cab home."

"I don't mind. Really. I don't have to work tomorrow, anyway."

With a small smile, she said, "All right. Thank you. Let me go say hi to David."

She disappeared into his room. Neal took her luggage into the master bedroom, collected some of his own things, and then waited for her in the living room. She came out a minute later.

"You're right—he was happy to see me." She jerked her thumb toward David's room. "Did you do those murals?"

"Well, they're on plywood, but yeah. It was a little project I did on the side."

"Neal, that isn't 'little.' It's wonderful. David must love it."

She slipped off her shoes and walked over to the window, where Neal was standing. It was starting to snow, and the cold from outside came in through the glass.

"Are you sure Hank isn't going to mind you spending the night here?"

Sara was silent for a moment. When she spoke, she said, "Hank and I broke up, actually."

For a second, Neal didn't know what to say. He hadn't liked Hank, but right now he couldn't feel happy about the break-up. Instead, all he heard was how sad Sara sounded.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"Don't be. It was the right thing to do. He started talking about marriage, and I just...realized we wanted different things. He was a lot more serious than I was, but I think he mainly just wanted to remarry." She paused, and added. "When I broke up with him, he accused me of still having feelings for you."

"What did you say?"

"I told him it didn't matter if I did or not."

It was a non-answer, but Neal didn't push her. "I'm still sorry. I know you liked him."

"He was nice. He really liked David. But I just couldn't do it. I was talking to one of my coworkers at Sterling Bosch, and she told me how lucky I was to have found a guy who was interested in me when I had a kid. I don't want that. I don't want to date just to find a stepfather for David. I'd rather be single than do that. I don't mind being single. I have a family. I have my job. It hasn't been easy, and I've made some mistakes, but I'm happy."

For a minute, they just stood silently together. When Neal spoke, he said, "I'm happy like this, too. But I still care about you."

Sara swallowed. "I still have feelings for you. But it doesn't matter."

"What do you mean? Of course it matters."

She shook her head. "No, it doesn't. See, I couldn't be with Hank because he just wants to be someone's husband. But with you, it's the opposite. I felt so good when I was with you, but we don't know if it could even last a year. And what would that do to David? We've made so much progress. Why undo it now? I don't want you to feel like this is the only way we can be a family, because it isn't."

"But it's not. I think I'm still in love with you."

Sara blinked away tears. She caressed Neal's cheek. "'Think' isn't enough. Not now."

But the next moment, she kissed him softly on the lips. As she leaned in closer, her tears spread onto his cheek.

"You really don't have to sleep on the sofa," she said. "It's not necessary."

But Neal realized something now. He realized that everything Sara had done, for good or bad, she'd done because she thought it was necessary. To protect David, to protect herself. And part of him, which he wanted desperately to silence, had to admit she might be right about them.

"I think it's better if I do," he said.

She nodded. "Yeah," she said softly, "you're probably right." She kissed him on the cheek and squeezed his shoulders. "I need to get some rest. I'm exhausted."

"Good night."

She turned away and went into the bedroom, closing the door behind her.

* * *

In April, the earth finally thawed out, and Neal and Sara decided to plant a small herb garden in the corner of her miniscule back yard.

"I don't know why I let you talk me into this," she said. "I don't even know what some of these herbs."

"Then you'll just have to let me come over to use them."

She laughed. "This whole thing is just for you, because you wish you could have a garden at your place."

It was true. At least at June's, there'd been some plants on the terrace. His current place afforded no gardening opportunities.

"I've been thinking," he said. "David's going to start kindergarten this year. What if we sent him somewhere else?"

"You mean, other than Durant?"

"To be honest, I can't manage Durant's tuition much more than you can. I'm getting work, and the FBI helps, but it's still a stretch. Unless I liquefy more assets—"

"That sounds like a bad idea...."

"It could be risky. I just think there are a lot of options that are more reasonable and just as good."

Sara nodded. "You know, you're probably right." She sat back on her heels and brushed her hair out of her face with a gloved hand. "This garden is going to be your job. Messing around in the dirt isn't my idea of a good time."

"You're still beautiful."

She gave him a skeptical look.

"I meant what I said, back in December," he said. "I still love you."

"You said you think you love me. Big difference."

"Look, I thought for sure that what I had with Kate was the real thing. Now, I'm still not sure, and sometimes that kills me. Right now, I'm as sure about you as I could be about anyone. And if I thought you'd say yes, I ask you to marry me."

Sara shook her head. "I'm not going to say yes."

Neal looked away and resumed digging in the earth, but Sara put a hand on his arm.

Continuing, she said, "What did I say? That I didn't know if we could last a year? Let's just take things slow. Make sure we know what we want. And a year from now...we'll see what happens."

Neal set down his spade and took off his gloves. "All right," he said softly. "A year."

When Sara spoke again, her voice took on an authoritative tone. "But if we're going to do this, I think we should write up a custody agreement. And make it official in court."

Neal blinked. "But I thought things have been going great."

"I think so, too. But let's face it—we should know by now what a problem it can be. And we're going to be together, we can't have this come between us again."

She was right. Just like Elizabeth had been right almost a year ago. Neal had spent too much time believing that a formal agreement would mean that one of them had failed. But really, it was the only way they could move forward.

"All right," he said. "I can agree with that. Also, just for the record, you were right. It was good to take things slow. David can be more of a handful than I realized."

Sara smiled. "You know what he's been doing now? Playing pirate. He took a pair of my earrings and buried them somewhere. And now he can't remember where. At least they weren't valuable."

Behind them, David came running out the back door, carrying a plastic pail and shovel.

Neal decided to take inventory of his cufflinks when he got home.



Back to Part 1

Comments

[elrhiarhodan]

BRAVA!!!!!!!!!!!!!

This is wonderful, simply, perfectly wonderful.

You've created a rich and plausible story about two people struggling through a difficult relationship, with all the warts and imperfections that real people have.

I love that the story starts with Neal and Sara in a very difficult place - that she's wary of him, that he's resentful of her. And David, although adorable, is still a four year old boy who can create havoc by just breathing.

Peter and Elizabeth are so well done - they still care very much about Neal and want to help him, but they know where the lines are.

A terrific, terrific tale - one I hope you will think about continuing somewhere down the line.

[citrinesunset.livejournal.com]

Thank you! I'm glad you liked it. I really wanted the relationship between Neal and Sara to feel real, and I didn't want to make either of them the "bad guy" here, so I'm glad you found it plausible.

I'd definitely like to write at least one more fic in this verse soon. I had a ton of ideas that I just didn't have the time or room to fit into this story.

[embroiderama]

This is really great! I love the complexities of Neal and Sara's relationship, and seeing Neal building a new life for himself felt very right for him. Things might not be perfect, but I think that David's pretty lucky to have Neal for a dad. :)

[citrinesunset.livejournal.com]

Thank you! I'm glad Neal and Sara's relationship worked for you.

I think Neal would make a pretty good dad.

[calis-1st.livejournal.com]

This was a wonderful way to start the day. I loved how natural this felt, with Sara and Neal both wanting to do what's best for their son, even if their ideas of "best" didn't always mesh. I also appreciated that David was neither perfect nor damaged. Lovely tale - thanks for posting.

[citrinesunset.livejournal.com]

Thank you! I'm really glad you liked it.

[sheenianni.livejournal.com]

I've been looking forward to this fic for a long time and it's all I've hoped it to be and more.

I love how this story evolves, the way that the relationships develop and change. Somehow, the Neal and Sara in this story are less glamorous, but more real and honest than how we generally know them. I'd like to say more, but words seem to be failing me right now.

It's very real. I love the way how Sara and Neal slowly move from wariness and resentment and just make things work. They're not the perfect family, and it's unclear whether Neal and Sara will be together, but it's clear that oen way or another, they'll resolve this.

Great fic.

[citrinesunset.livejournal.com]

Thanks! I'm glad to hear you liked the story's evolution, because I hoped it would come across as natural.

Glad you liked it.

[angelita26]

Yay! I was so excited when I saw this posted, and I've been sneaking time away from work to read it all day. And it was totally worth the wait. I really loved seeing Neal build a relationship with David, who was written so realistically, by the way. I thought it worked so well. And Sara was great. It was very interesting to see them so far apart in the beginning and then see them come together by the end to where they're interested in working on a relationship together. I think David will be so happy - I know I am :D

Thank you so much for sharing this! I would love to see more in this 'verse :)

ETA: I forgot to mention how awesome the plywood Batman mural sounded. I was totally jealous of David there for a minute. What an amazing thing to do for a little boy who loves Batman!

[citrinesunset.livejournal.com]

Thank you! I'm glad you thought it was worth the wait and that it worked well.

I could just see Neal doing something like the Batman mural if he had kids. I like the idea of him using his skills that way.

[kanarek13]

Yay \o/ What a wonderful story! You have found a way to build the Neal/Sara relationship in a unique way - by showing them in their difficult journey to make a better life for themselves and David. It was difficult at the beginning, I'm definitely not used to Neal and Sara barely speaking to each other, but thanks to this I loved the progress even more, it felt so right and perfect, without missing any steps and obstacles - it's real life :D

It left me with a fuzzy feeling inside, somehow I believe that a year from now they will be happy and looking forward to many more years :D

Truly wonderful \o/ I'm so happy I could read this today! Thank you!

[citrinesunset.livejournal.com]

Thanks! I'm glad you liked it. I wanted to write them at odds, but still make them and their relationship sympathetic. So I'm glad it worked well for you.

[slytheringurrl.livejournal.com]

Hey! Awesome job! I loved the story and it was fantastic. Everyone else said everything I wanted to say! I would love to see more of this 'verse. Congrats!

[citrinesunset.livejournal.com]

Thanks! I'm glad you liked it. :) I'm hoping to write some more stuff in this 'verse.

Thank you again for the artwork! I love the banners.

[doctor-fangeek.livejournal.com]

This was terrific. Got started reading it over my morning tea and was bummed that I had to delay finishing so I could get to work.

The situation is difficult and realistic and everyone is in character and I love David who is just as well-drawn as the canon characters. I could see something like this playing out between Neal and Sara. As another comment says, it's all very "real." A difficult journey, but one in which they are both making progress, finding ways to make things work...and one which leaves us with hope for the future, however it goes.

Beautiful.

[citrinesunset.livejournal.com]

Thank you! I'm glad you liked it and that you found the relationship realistic. Trying for realism was a big priority for me.

[algeiban.livejournal.com]

This was just wonderful!

[citrinesunset.livejournal.com]

Thanks! I'm really glad you liked it!

[nieseryjna.livejournal.com]

That was a good story, interesting and keeping a little bit of pressure, I loved how true all of the relationships sound, and how David behaves as any other child hearing everything and of course repeating it ;) And of course I love that you got Neal and Sara together, my favorites :D

[citrinesunset.livejournal.com]

Thank you! Glad you liked Neal and Sara in this fic--I wanted to give them an optimistic ending.

[reve-silencieux.livejournal.com]

I think this is one of my new favorite fics, ever. I adore Neal/Sara, and obviously I wanted them to work things out, but I think what I loved even more was how real this whole scenario was. It wasn't all roses and an easy fix. They both had to work to get back to that place. At first I really felt bad for Neal, having lost out on that time, and having tried to play the good guy by letting her go. But Sara had it tough too, and ultimately she was thinking of David first and foremost. That's what a mother does.

And of course, I loved David! He read and felt like a real kid, and Neal's interactions with him were great. From out of his depth to quickly learning how to handle a little boy with a very short attention span!

When you brought in Hank, I was leery, but liked that you didn't make Neal all crazy ex, and had him handle it maturely. But what I liked even more was that Sara didn't give in to Hank's demands and opinions about Neal. Deep down, she still knew why she fell for Neal and that he wasn't a bad guy. That was more important - no matter how it ended with Neal, that she remembered that. So great fic! Loved it! Thanks for writing such a long and lovely piece!

[citrinesunset.livejournal.com]

Wow, thanks! I'm glad you liked it. Yeah, I wanted to give them an optimistic ending, but I wanted to leave it a little bit open and not make it too simple, so I'm glad you liked the balance. I didn't want either Neal or Sara to be the "bad guy" in this story.

I loved writing David.

Thanks again! I'm glad you liked the fic.

[melles76.livejournal.com]

Oh, wow! What a great story! It really got me hooked from the beginning. I liked how Neal and Sara acted, although I have to admit I was a little annoyed of Sara's behavior at first. But I stand corrected. She had her reasons and in the end, both of them were happy with each other. That is all that matters to me. And yes, I would like to see another story from this verse. You can't stop here just like that! ;-) I loved the interaction between all of the characters very much and had to laugh out loud about Moz complaining that he isn't David's Godfather! I could totally picture him saying that! Well done, well done! Kudos to you.

[citrinesunset.livejournal.com]

Thanks! I'm glad you liked the ending. I'm very tempted to write a sequel or two when I get a chance. I'm also thinking of putting out an extended version of this fic since there were a couple subplots that had to get cut short in the interest of meeting deadlines.

I'm glad you liked Mozzie the wannabe godfather.

[sahiya.livejournal.com]

I loved this. I thought the tension between Neal and Sara here was very realistic. And David was very smart and yet also kind of an asshole, which is exactly how I imagine any kid of Neal's and Sara's would be.

[citrinesunset.livejournal.com]

Thank you! Yeah, I think "very smart" and "kind of an asshole" is a good way of describing David.

Great but incomplete...

[satchmo satch (from livejournal.com)]

I loved your story it's good (though it could've been better) but it's kinda unfinished we could use more chapters and more closure I'm not okay with this so called end :((

Re: Great but incomplete...

[citrinesunset.livejournal.com]

I'm glad you liked it. I'm sorry you wanted more closure. I deliberately wanted to keep the ending a little open since the main thing was Neal building a relationship with his son and getting on better terms with Sara, and I wanted the specifics to be open-ended. But eventually, I'd enjoy writing some sequels.

Thanks for reading!