Title: summer sang in me

Fandom: White Collar/mythology

Disclaimer: not my characters

Warnings: takes place somewhat early on

Pairings: none

Rating: PG
Wordcount: 580

Point of view: third

Prompt: White Collar, Neal/Peter, Peter always thought that Neal had no family. It turns out that Neal is a son of Hermes, God of Thieves

Neal doesn't often talk about his family. Occasionally, he starts a sentence with when my father, but then he seems to realize it and cuts himself off. The only time Peter reacted was the first, just in case Neal ever decides to finish the thought.

Peter used to think Neal had an unhappy childhood; why else would he have gone into crime, reinvented himself, and lie like breathing?

He doesn't believe Neal was abused. Possibly neglected. Neal never mentions his mother, step-mother, foster mother, adopted mother, grandmother, aunt, or any woman at all who might have had a hand in raising him. But he does mention his father, sometimes, in relation to various cons he pulls for the FBI.

—when my father—

o0o

Neal is fifteen minutes late to work. He doesn't answer his phone, either the loft's or his cell. Peter checks his anklet; it's still at the loft.

Peter leaves without telling anyone.

o0o

Peter walks silently up the stairs, hearing laughter—Neal's and a stranger's, light as a breeze. They're speaking a language Peter doesn't know. It sounds like it might be Greek.

"Come on in, Peter," Neal calls when he hits the landing.

"You're late," Peter announces, pushing open the door. He pauses once he catches sight of Neal's visitor: a man a few years younger than Neal, with hair a little lighter and eyes just as blue, with a smirk identical to Neal's I know something you don't know smirk.

"Agent Burke," the stranger says. "Delighted to meet you."

Neal grins. "Peter, this is Herman, a very old friend of mine."

Peter raises an eyebrow as 'Herman' grimaces. The name doesn't fit at all but Herman doesn't deny it.

"And Herman," Neal continues, clapping a hand onto Herman's shoulder, "this is Peter, my most recent keeper."

Peter holds out a hand and Herman grips it hard, his palm calloused and strong. "Agent Burke," he says again, "thank you."

o0o

Neal seems so happy in Herman's presence that Peter simply can't force him into work today. After twenty minutes of Herman relating some of Neal's early attempts at painting and conning, he tells them he has to return to the office, and orders Neal to come in early tomorrow.

Instead of shaking Peter's hand in goodbye, Herman pulls him into a massive hug and whispers in his ear, "Thank you."

Peter pulls away in bemusement, glancing at Neal, who only shrugs, and then Peter leaves.

o0o

(Neal takes his visitor to his favorite café in New York. He doesn't worry about his anklet; it will say he's in his loft until tomorrow, when he heads to work.

He keeps calling his visitor Herman and they speak in ancient Greek, the language his father taught him in the cradle, when he whispered about Apollo's cattle and the lyre.

"He seems like a good man, kiddo," Herman says, sipping his lemonade. "I approve."

Neal grins at him and recommends the chocolate chip waffles.)

o0o

when my father charmed the gods, he played a great con.

he told me I can do better.

o0o

Neal walks into Peter's office whistling, flipping his hat in his hands, and he looks so happy, so young. Peter can't help smiling at him.

The smile he gets back is brilliant, one he's never seen before.

Later, at the private art gallery that's missing a painting (The Cattle of Apollon, by an artist Peter's never heard of), Neal says, "My father would've like you, Peter."

Peter takes that as a compliment.