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aragarnaTitle: The Fatherhood Chronicles - A Hard Day's Night
Author: Aragarna
Characters: Peter Burke, Neal Burke, cameos of El, Big Neal and Mozzie.
Genre: fluff, humor.
Word count: ~2100
Summary: Peter was hoping to catch up on some work. Neal decided otherwise.
Author's Note: I probably should have finished that one before the previous one. This one is set earlier, when Neal wasn't talking yet.
“You’re sure you’re gonna be okay?”
“Yes, Hon, I’ll be just fine.”
“If he wakes up, just give him a bottle. I’ve prepared one, it’s on the kitchen island. You’ll just have to warm it up.”
“Got it.”
“And if –“
Peter cut her off, gently, but firmly. “I’ve got this, El. Now, go, they’re waiting for you."
Elizabeth smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry. I just have hard time leaving Neal."
"Don't worry, he's in good hands," Peter stated, sounding more confident than he really was. "Have fun with your friends. Enjoy the play.”
“I will. Bye, Hon,” she said, kissing him lightly.
"Love you, Hon."
She finally exited through the door, not without one last worried look toward the second floor, where Neal was sleeping in his crib. Peter let go a sigh of relief. El was a wonderful mother, but mother instinct could also be a little overwhelming at time. After all, by now, Peter had become a perfectly capable father. Plus, El had just put Neal to bed before she left, and he was now sleeping quietly. And Neal was mostly doing his nights, now. This should be a quiet evening. What could possible go wrong?
Loosening his tie, Peter sat down at the dinner table. He would probably be more comfortable if he traded his work suit with a pair of jeans and a simple t-shirt, but he was too eager to get done with that pile of case reports. He grabbed the file perched on top of the pile and started reviewing the first report. He had barely reached the second page when he heard cries coming from upstairs. So much for a quiet and productive evening...
Peter tried to ignore the cries for a moment, hoping Neal would go back to sleep on his own. Unfortunately, the cries didn't stop. On the contrary, they doubled, and reached a sound level impossible to disregard. Sighing, Peter left his report, and went upstairs.
Neal was crying his head off. Peter took him in arms and rocked him a little to try and calm him. To no avail. Neal just wouldn’t stop.
“Come on, kiddo, what’s going on? Are you hungry already?”
He took Neal downstairs and put him in his seat while he went to the kitchen to warm up the bottle that El had prepared. He just had to put it in the bottle warmer, it wouldn’t take more than a minute. Except that when Peter plugged the warmer in, there was a spark, and a suspicious smell of burned circuit appeared. And then nothing. Peter cursed, but no matter how many times he tried the switch, the damn thing was dead. This was just his luck.
Meanwhile, Neal was still crying.
“Hang on, buddy, let’s try with the microwave,” Peter said, as he put the bottle in the microwave for a minute.
Of course, now the bottle was too hot. Peter was really getting annoyed. And those cries were menacing to give him a headache.
Having to wait a few minutes for the bottle to cool down, Peter took Neal in his arms again. That seemed to calm him a little this time, and Peter settled on the sofa with Little Neal. After what seemed like an hour (much probably like five minutes), Peter could finally give Neal his bottle, which he took promptly and started drinking.
Silence, at last.
For about two minutes. Neal discarded the bottle and resumed his cries, to Peter’s growing despair. He put the bottle on the table and sat Neal on his lap.
“What is wrong with you? Why are you…”
He was cut off by a treacherous burp that ruined his tie and shirt.
“Neal!” Peter protested indignantly, scowling himself inwardly for having been too lazy to change his clothes earlier.
Oblivious of his dad’s killer glare, Neal just resumed his cries.
Jaded, Peter went upstairs to his room – cautiously holding Neal far enough from his messy clothes. He put Neal on his bed, safely in the middle and far enough from the edges, in case Neal would decide to try one of his new acrobatic tricks consisting in turning over on his side...
“Don’t move,” Peter said, pointing an authoritative finger, though he was well aware that his words had as much impact on Neal as they had on his namesake. He slipped out of his dirty clothes and put on a new t-shirt. Then he sat down on the bed and sat Neal back on his lap.
“Why can’t you just tell me what’s wrong? Tell Daddy what’s going on. I can fix it, I promise, but I can’t figure out what’s going on if you don’t tell me.”
Of course, Neal didn’t answer. In fact, he was now getting sleepy. His eyes were closing and the cries subsided. Peter rocked him in his arms and he finally fell asleep. Peter heaved a sigh of relief. Gently, he got up and walked to Neal’s room.
Avoiding any abrupt movement, very cautious not to wake him up, Peter put Neal in his bed. With a victorious satisfactory smile, he switched off the light and headed out of the room. He hadn’t even reached the staircase that Neal started crying again.
Peter refrained from kicking in the sideboard nearby. Just barely.
Resigned, he turned around and went back to Neal’s room.
“Come on, buddy, Daddy really needs to work now.”
He grabbed Neal and a characteristic smell told him that it was time for a diaper change. Just great.
“Fine, let’s get changed, and then, bed time.”
After eight months of fatherhood practice, Peter could do it all like a pro – well, apart from tonight apparently. But really, changing diapers was the one thing he couldn’t get used to. Elizabeth seemed totally unfazed by it and kept teasing Peter about it.
But seriously, there was nothing adorable in that.
At least, hopefully, Neal would feel better with a clean butt. Peter freed Neal from his dirty diaper and carefully cleaned him. It did seem to make Neal some good. Maybe too much. Without any warning, he cheerfully watered Peter’s clean t-shirt.
“Damn it, Neal!” Peter protested.
Peter finished wrapping Neal in his diaper, put his pajama back on, put him in his bed, and ignoring the cries, went back to his room to change into a clean t-shirt, again.
Then, he paused, took a deep breath, and walked back to Neal’s room.
“I can’t wait for you to start talking,” he told his son, as he took him in his arms again. “At least we’ll be able to communicate better. Oh I know, I’m saying that now, and in six months I’m going to regret it… But right now, I wish you’d just tell me what you need. It’s the middle of the night, you should be wanting to sleep.”
Peter thought about calling Elizabeth to the rescue, but he didn’t want to ruin her night. Nor would he accept to admit he couldn’t take care of his son. Well, not to her, but maybe he could call a friend…
Little Neal under his arm, he went downstairs to pick his phone he had left on the dining table.
He dialed Neal Caffrey’s number and waited anxiously as it kept ringing. He was about to hang up when Neal finally picked up the call.
“Hey, Peter, what’s up?”
“Hi, Neal, I hope I’m not interrupting…” Peter said, feeling vaguely guilty for calling so late. He heard some indistinct sounds, a door closing and Neal’s voice came back online.
“Is everything okay?” he asked, sounding a little concerned.
“Yes, well, I mean, it’s nothing, it’s just, Neal keeps crying and I’m alone. El went out with some friends and…”
“Oh no, no, no, Peter. I’m not coming over to babysit.”
“Come on, Neal…”
“I know nothing about babies! Have you fed him? Maybe he’s hungry.”
“I just gave him his bottle,” Peter countered.
“He had a nightmare?”
“He doesn’t want to sleep!”
His friend was of no help at all…
“Look, I gotta go…” Neal said.
“Neal, are you coming?” Peter heard Mozzie’s unmistakable voice in the distance.
“Pass me Mozzie,” he asked suddenly.
“Suit?” the little guy asked, intrigued.
“Mozz, please, Neal keeps crying and I don’t know what’s wrong with him.”
“Hmmm… Does he have a fever?”
Peter looked worryingly at his son. He slid the phone between his shoulder and ear to put a hand on Neal’s forehead.
“Huh. I don’t know. I don’t think so…”
“Might be a tooth. Mrs. Suit said he started teething.”
Peter looked helplessly at his son. “How do I know?”
“Give me half an hour, Suit, I’ll be there.”
Peter exhaled a large sigh of relief. “Thank you, Mozz, I’ll owe you one.”
“You might regret that one,” Neal chuckled, taking back the phone before he disconnected the call.
Peter slid his phone in his pocket and looked at his son. Neal’s face was all red and dirty from tears and snot. Peter grabbed a towel from the kitchen and gently wiped his face. He then put Neal against his shoulder and rocked him slowly.
“Uncle Mozzie is gonna come and make you feel all better…” he whispered.
At least Peter hoped.
He glanced at his pile of case reports and sighed. Neal in his arms, he grabbed a bunch of files and went to sit on the couch. Setting the pile next to him, he tried to get back to work. But focusing on his report through the cries was quite a challenge and Peter started reading his file out loud.
Gradually, Neal stopped crying. Relieved, Peter stopped his reading out loud and continued silently. But the minute he stopped talking, the cries resumed.
“No, no, you were doing great. What’s wrong? You want me to continue reading?” Peter asked. “Okay, then, let’s get to that second report. The Edison case. Oh insurance fraud. You like insurance fraud? Case Agent was Blake. That kid has made some solid progress….”
The knock on the door startled Peter.
He stood up cautiously not to wake Neal up, who had finally fallen asleep against his shoulder. He walked to the door and opened to Mozzie.
“Hi, Mozz,” he whispered. “Thank you for coming.”
“Look, I can’t stay long,” Mozzie said, in an equally low voice, letting himself in.
Peter nodded.
Mozzie took Neal gently in his arms, and kissed him on the forehead. Neal wriggled and opened his eyes.
“His cheeks seem a little red. Has he tried to chew things lately? Or put his fingers to his mouth?”
Peter stared at Mozzie helplessly.
Mozzie opened Neal’s mouth a little to take a look inside. “Yes, it seems his gum is a little swollen. That’s probably a tooth.”
He handed Neal back to Peter and rummaged in his shoulder bag. He retrieved a plastic ring.
Peter looked suspiciously at it. “What is that?”
“A chewing toy. It should help him calm down. Cool it down in the fridge if need be.”
Peter gave the toy to Neal, who started chewing on it.
“Thank you, Mozzie.”
“That was fifty bucks.”
Peter rolled his eyes, but he was in no condition to argue. He took some money from his pocket and handed it to Mozzie.
Mozzie took the money with a bow. “At your service,” he said before leaving quietly.
Peter wondered what sort of scheme could keep Neal and Mozzie so busy that late at night… But he wasn’t supposed to worry about this. Neal Caffrey wasn’t his responsibility anymore. The only Neal he had to worry about was the little one, and that one was finally peacefully sleeping in his arms.
He delicately took the chewing toy from Neal’s hand and set it on the table.
He was too afraid to wake his son up again by putting him to bed, so Peter settled back in the sofa with Neal sleeping against his shoulder and resumed his report reading.
When Elizabeth came home, about an hour later, she found her boys together on the sofa, both sound asleep, Neal resting on his father’s shoulder.
She smiled softly at this beautiful image of her family. She took her phone out of her purse and snapped a picture before bending over to kiss Peter.
He stirred and opened his eyes.
“Hey Hon,” he said in a sleepy voice.
“Hey Hon,” she echoed, gently grabbing Neal.
Peter winced in anticipation, but Neal didn’t wake up as Elizabeth pressed him tenderly in her arms. Unbelievable. Now, he was sleeping like a rock.
Peter sent Neal a long reproachful look…
“Everything went fine?” El asked.
“Just fine,” Peter grumbled.
The Fatherhood Chronicles
To be continued...
Author: Aragarna
Characters: Peter Burke, Neal Burke, cameos of El, Big Neal and Mozzie.
Genre: fluff, humor.
Word count: ~2100
Summary: Peter was hoping to catch up on some work. Neal decided otherwise.
Author's Note: I probably should have finished that one before the previous one. This one is set earlier, when Neal wasn't talking yet.
A Hard Day's Night
“You’re sure you’re gonna be okay?”
“Yes, Hon, I’ll be just fine.”
“If he wakes up, just give him a bottle. I’ve prepared one, it’s on the kitchen island. You’ll just have to warm it up.”
“Got it.”
“And if –“
Peter cut her off, gently, but firmly. “I’ve got this, El. Now, go, they’re waiting for you."
Elizabeth smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry. I just have hard time leaving Neal."
"Don't worry, he's in good hands," Peter stated, sounding more confident than he really was. "Have fun with your friends. Enjoy the play.”
“I will. Bye, Hon,” she said, kissing him lightly.
"Love you, Hon."
She finally exited through the door, not without one last worried look toward the second floor, where Neal was sleeping in his crib. Peter let go a sigh of relief. El was a wonderful mother, but mother instinct could also be a little overwhelming at time. After all, by now, Peter had become a perfectly capable father. Plus, El had just put Neal to bed before she left, and he was now sleeping quietly. And Neal was mostly doing his nights, now. This should be a quiet evening. What could possible go wrong?
Loosening his tie, Peter sat down at the dinner table. He would probably be more comfortable if he traded his work suit with a pair of jeans and a simple t-shirt, but he was too eager to get done with that pile of case reports. He grabbed the file perched on top of the pile and started reviewing the first report. He had barely reached the second page when he heard cries coming from upstairs. So much for a quiet and productive evening...
Peter tried to ignore the cries for a moment, hoping Neal would go back to sleep on his own. Unfortunately, the cries didn't stop. On the contrary, they doubled, and reached a sound level impossible to disregard. Sighing, Peter left his report, and went upstairs.
Neal was crying his head off. Peter took him in arms and rocked him a little to try and calm him. To no avail. Neal just wouldn’t stop.
“Come on, kiddo, what’s going on? Are you hungry already?”
He took Neal downstairs and put him in his seat while he went to the kitchen to warm up the bottle that El had prepared. He just had to put it in the bottle warmer, it wouldn’t take more than a minute. Except that when Peter plugged the warmer in, there was a spark, and a suspicious smell of burned circuit appeared. And then nothing. Peter cursed, but no matter how many times he tried the switch, the damn thing was dead. This was just his luck.
Meanwhile, Neal was still crying.
“Hang on, buddy, let’s try with the microwave,” Peter said, as he put the bottle in the microwave for a minute.
Of course, now the bottle was too hot. Peter was really getting annoyed. And those cries were menacing to give him a headache.
Having to wait a few minutes for the bottle to cool down, Peter took Neal in his arms again. That seemed to calm him a little this time, and Peter settled on the sofa with Little Neal. After what seemed like an hour (much probably like five minutes), Peter could finally give Neal his bottle, which he took promptly and started drinking.
Silence, at last.
For about two minutes. Neal discarded the bottle and resumed his cries, to Peter’s growing despair. He put the bottle on the table and sat Neal on his lap.
“What is wrong with you? Why are you…”
He was cut off by a treacherous burp that ruined his tie and shirt.
“Neal!” Peter protested indignantly, scowling himself inwardly for having been too lazy to change his clothes earlier.
Oblivious of his dad’s killer glare, Neal just resumed his cries.
Jaded, Peter went upstairs to his room – cautiously holding Neal far enough from his messy clothes. He put Neal on his bed, safely in the middle and far enough from the edges, in case Neal would decide to try one of his new acrobatic tricks consisting in turning over on his side...
“Don’t move,” Peter said, pointing an authoritative finger, though he was well aware that his words had as much impact on Neal as they had on his namesake. He slipped out of his dirty clothes and put on a new t-shirt. Then he sat down on the bed and sat Neal back on his lap.
“Why can’t you just tell me what’s wrong? Tell Daddy what’s going on. I can fix it, I promise, but I can’t figure out what’s going on if you don’t tell me.”
Of course, Neal didn’t answer. In fact, he was now getting sleepy. His eyes were closing and the cries subsided. Peter rocked him in his arms and he finally fell asleep. Peter heaved a sigh of relief. Gently, he got up and walked to Neal’s room.
Avoiding any abrupt movement, very cautious not to wake him up, Peter put Neal in his bed. With a victorious satisfactory smile, he switched off the light and headed out of the room. He hadn’t even reached the staircase that Neal started crying again.
Peter refrained from kicking in the sideboard nearby. Just barely.
Resigned, he turned around and went back to Neal’s room.
“Come on, buddy, Daddy really needs to work now.”
He grabbed Neal and a characteristic smell told him that it was time for a diaper change. Just great.
“Fine, let’s get changed, and then, bed time.”
After eight months of fatherhood practice, Peter could do it all like a pro – well, apart from tonight apparently. But really, changing diapers was the one thing he couldn’t get used to. Elizabeth seemed totally unfazed by it and kept teasing Peter about it.
But seriously, there was nothing adorable in that.
At least, hopefully, Neal would feel better with a clean butt. Peter freed Neal from his dirty diaper and carefully cleaned him. It did seem to make Neal some good. Maybe too much. Without any warning, he cheerfully watered Peter’s clean t-shirt.
“Damn it, Neal!” Peter protested.
Peter finished wrapping Neal in his diaper, put his pajama back on, put him in his bed, and ignoring the cries, went back to his room to change into a clean t-shirt, again.
Then, he paused, took a deep breath, and walked back to Neal’s room.
“I can’t wait for you to start talking,” he told his son, as he took him in his arms again. “At least we’ll be able to communicate better. Oh I know, I’m saying that now, and in six months I’m going to regret it… But right now, I wish you’d just tell me what you need. It’s the middle of the night, you should be wanting to sleep.”
Peter thought about calling Elizabeth to the rescue, but he didn’t want to ruin her night. Nor would he accept to admit he couldn’t take care of his son. Well, not to her, but maybe he could call a friend…
Little Neal under his arm, he went downstairs to pick his phone he had left on the dining table.
He dialed Neal Caffrey’s number and waited anxiously as it kept ringing. He was about to hang up when Neal finally picked up the call.
“Hey, Peter, what’s up?”
“Hi, Neal, I hope I’m not interrupting…” Peter said, feeling vaguely guilty for calling so late. He heard some indistinct sounds, a door closing and Neal’s voice came back online.
“Is everything okay?” he asked, sounding a little concerned.
“Yes, well, I mean, it’s nothing, it’s just, Neal keeps crying and I’m alone. El went out with some friends and…”
“Oh no, no, no, Peter. I’m not coming over to babysit.”
“Come on, Neal…”
“I know nothing about babies! Have you fed him? Maybe he’s hungry.”
“I just gave him his bottle,” Peter countered.
“He had a nightmare?”
“He doesn’t want to sleep!”
His friend was of no help at all…
“Look, I gotta go…” Neal said.
“Neal, are you coming?” Peter heard Mozzie’s unmistakable voice in the distance.
“Pass me Mozzie,” he asked suddenly.
“Suit?” the little guy asked, intrigued.
“Mozz, please, Neal keeps crying and I don’t know what’s wrong with him.”
“Hmmm… Does he have a fever?”
Peter looked worryingly at his son. He slid the phone between his shoulder and ear to put a hand on Neal’s forehead.
“Huh. I don’t know. I don’t think so…”
“Might be a tooth. Mrs. Suit said he started teething.”
Peter looked helplessly at his son. “How do I know?”
“Give me half an hour, Suit, I’ll be there.”
Peter exhaled a large sigh of relief. “Thank you, Mozz, I’ll owe you one.”
“You might regret that one,” Neal chuckled, taking back the phone before he disconnected the call.
Peter slid his phone in his pocket and looked at his son. Neal’s face was all red and dirty from tears and snot. Peter grabbed a towel from the kitchen and gently wiped his face. He then put Neal against his shoulder and rocked him slowly.
“Uncle Mozzie is gonna come and make you feel all better…” he whispered.
At least Peter hoped.
He glanced at his pile of case reports and sighed. Neal in his arms, he grabbed a bunch of files and went to sit on the couch. Setting the pile next to him, he tried to get back to work. But focusing on his report through the cries was quite a challenge and Peter started reading his file out loud.
Gradually, Neal stopped crying. Relieved, Peter stopped his reading out loud and continued silently. But the minute he stopped talking, the cries resumed.
“No, no, you were doing great. What’s wrong? You want me to continue reading?” Peter asked. “Okay, then, let’s get to that second report. The Edison case. Oh insurance fraud. You like insurance fraud? Case Agent was Blake. That kid has made some solid progress….”
----------------------------------------------------------
The knock on the door startled Peter.
He stood up cautiously not to wake Neal up, who had finally fallen asleep against his shoulder. He walked to the door and opened to Mozzie.
“Hi, Mozz,” he whispered. “Thank you for coming.”
“Look, I can’t stay long,” Mozzie said, in an equally low voice, letting himself in.
Peter nodded.
Mozzie took Neal gently in his arms, and kissed him on the forehead. Neal wriggled and opened his eyes.
“His cheeks seem a little red. Has he tried to chew things lately? Or put his fingers to his mouth?”
Peter stared at Mozzie helplessly.
Mozzie opened Neal’s mouth a little to take a look inside. “Yes, it seems his gum is a little swollen. That’s probably a tooth.”
He handed Neal back to Peter and rummaged in his shoulder bag. He retrieved a plastic ring.
Peter looked suspiciously at it. “What is that?”
“A chewing toy. It should help him calm down. Cool it down in the fridge if need be.”
Peter gave the toy to Neal, who started chewing on it.
“Thank you, Mozzie.”
“That was fifty bucks.”
Peter rolled his eyes, but he was in no condition to argue. He took some money from his pocket and handed it to Mozzie.
Mozzie took the money with a bow. “At your service,” he said before leaving quietly.
Peter wondered what sort of scheme could keep Neal and Mozzie so busy that late at night… But he wasn’t supposed to worry about this. Neal Caffrey wasn’t his responsibility anymore. The only Neal he had to worry about was the little one, and that one was finally peacefully sleeping in his arms.
He delicately took the chewing toy from Neal’s hand and set it on the table.
He was too afraid to wake his son up again by putting him to bed, so Peter settled back in the sofa with Neal sleeping against his shoulder and resumed his report reading.
----------------------------------------------------------
When Elizabeth came home, about an hour later, she found her boys together on the sofa, both sound asleep, Neal resting on his father’s shoulder.
She smiled softly at this beautiful image of her family. She took her phone out of her purse and snapped a picture before bending over to kiss Peter.
He stirred and opened his eyes.
“Hey Hon,” he said in a sleepy voice.
“Hey Hon,” she echoed, gently grabbing Neal.
Peter winced in anticipation, but Neal didn’t wake up as Elizabeth pressed him tenderly in her arms. Unbelievable. Now, he was sleeping like a rock.
Peter sent Neal a long reproachful look…
“Everything went fine?” El asked.
“Just fine,” Peter grumbled.
The Fatherhood Chronicles
To be continued...
Tags:
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2015-06-14 11:35 pm (UTC)And of course Mozzie has all the answers! HA! I do love how Peter now comes to rely on him.
no subject
Date: 2015-06-15 12:12 am (UTC)Of course Mozzie is a great babysitter!
no subject
Date: 2015-06-15 02:25 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-06-15 02:30 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-06-15 10:12 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-06-15 01:19 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-06-15 12:23 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-06-16 02:28 am (UTC)Some things will never change. No matter how close Mozzie and Peter will become. ;)
no subject
Date: 2015-06-15 02:18 pm (UTC)(Baby brother - currently six months - has recently developed this "lovely" habbit of crawling to the edge of the bed as fast as he can and trying to take a nosedive down... I swear his favorite part is when we just manage to catch his leg mid-air as he's already falling. I just hope he doesn't fall on his head one day... )
Love Mozzie for the rescue :)
no subject
Date: 2015-06-15 02:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-06-15 10:31 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-06-16 02:25 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-06-16 12:30 am (UTC)Makes me wonder what's next for Peter - I can hardly wait for Neal to start talking - he'll probably take after his namesake and be a little conman.
no subject
Date: 2015-06-16 02:26 am (UTC)And wait until he can *walk*!
no subject
Date: 2015-06-18 04:19 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-06-18 04:24 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-06-18 10:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-06-21 03:14 pm (UTC)Poor Peter, lol. And Moz and his 50 bucks - priceless :D
no subject
Date: 2015-06-21 05:46 pm (UTC)Thank you!! :D
no subject
Date: 2015-06-21 11:26 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-06-22 12:07 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-06-25 03:22 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-06-30 10:12 am (UTC)