Author's Note: Thank you to all those kind and thoughtful readers that left very sweet reviews for Moppets. FanFic dot Net seems to have disabled the usual route to reply to reviews so it has been a bit trickier this time round getting back to those who have left messages. Some readers have a bar on their homepage that does not allow private messages to be sent so my apologies for not being able to thank you directly for your positive encouragement throughout. Once again, it has been a thrill for me to hear how much readers have enjoyed following the adventures of li'l Neal and Mozzie.

MOPPETS For my friend K' Sprite, the OP of this prompt on the ff-exchange :)

Peter sat at the corner table of one of their favorite cafés looking at his watch. Ten after…They were late! Everything took so much longer these days so it was no surprise that Elizabeth and the boys were running behind schedule for lunch. He hadn't met El for lunch since that eventful day more than six weeks ago when two little moppets first stepped into their lives. Peter didn't know if it was coincidence or not that the place they had chosen to meet was the very same café they'd been dining at when Neal walked past and lifted El's purse, setting in motion the series of events that had led to the file he now held in his hand. Certainly the table was a deliberate choice. El always liked the corner table.

Peter was snapped out of his reflections when a child suddenly appeared and jumped into one of the empty chairs at the table. "Can we order already, I'm starving!"

"Mozzie," Peter scolded, "El and Neal haven't even sat down yet. Hop back up and try that one again, this time with some manners, please." He gently pulled the boy up and out of the chair.

Mozzie rolled his eyes as he took a couple of steps away from the table before spinning around and walking back again. "Good afternoon, Peter."

"Hello Mozzie."

"How has your day been?" The boy looked over the top of his spectacles.

"Not too bad so far, thank you for asking. Please, sit down." Peter indicated the same chair the boy had sat in the first time around. "What have you been up to?"

Mozzie slid into the chair. "Not much, but I'm starving. Any chance we can order already?"

It was Peter's turn to roll his eyes. He would have had something else to say but El arrived at the table, cutting short the impromptu lesson in manners.

Peter stood and pulled out El's chair. "Hi hon. How did the trip go on the subway?"

"Oh, not too bad. It was quite a hike from the station but we did a bit of speed walking so we didn't have to keep you waiting too long." El was a little out of breath as she spoke.

"You shouldn't have hurried." Peter looked behind El. "Where's Neal?"

"Right here." El turned to point beside her but there was nothing but empty space. "He was right beside me a second ago."

"Don't worry." Peter was trying to convince himself as much as El. "He'll be around here somewhere."

"He stopped to try out the hats a half a block back." Without looking, Mozzie informed the adults from behind one of the menus.

"Yeah, I can see him." Peter pointed back down the sidewalk. "I'll go fetch him."

"No, please, allow me." El moved back in the direction she had come from. She had that determined look on her face, the one that Peter knew better than to argue with.

"Neal!" The little boy looked up from under a tartan beret and grinned at El, only to drop the smile upon seeing the look on her face.

"Neal, how many times have I told you not to wander off?" El took the hat off the moppet's head and placed it back on the stand.

"Today?"

El didn't bother justifying Neal's question with a reply, instead she took him by the wrist, lifted his arm and planted a very hard swat to his backside. She held him in that position while she asked, "Now, young man, will you be needing more or have you decided that you won't wander off any more today?"

"Nuh uh. Won't need any morw weminders Wizzybif." Neal shook his head very seriously.

"Good." El released his wrist. "Now let's go join the others for lunch."

After the orders were placed, Peter turned to the youngsters and spoke in a quiet, serious tone. "Mozzie, Neal, El and I wanted to talk to you both about something very important today." Both boys froze, their immediate thoughts racing to work out just what exactly it was that they'd been caught out with now. Peter noticed the looks but filed the information away for further investigation at a later date. Guilty looks like that could have only meant one thing – the boys had something else they were trying to hide. Unbelievable! "No relax, you're not in trouble." Yet!

Mozzie let out a long breath, "Yeah, we didn't think so."

"I did, I fought you might hab found out bout…"

"Neal! Peter said to relax!" Mozzie interrupted the confession. "We don't want to spoil this fabulous lunch date do we?"

"Noooo, Moz."

Peter shook his head, trying very unsuccessfully not to get sidetracked. "What we wanted to talk to you both about was… adoption. Do you know what adoption is?"

"Yes, of course we do Peter."

"And you, little one?"

"Ob couwse, Pweter."

"Sweetie, what do you think adoption is?" El put her hand on the little boy's head and twisted it in her direction.

"Doption is when you get to lib wit someone foreber."

"That's right kiddo. Now you see this file here?" Peter put his finger on the pale blue folder sitting in the middle of the table. "These are some documents to do with adoption." Peter looked at each little boy in turn. "Yours Mozzie and yours Neal…El and I would love it very much if you two boys became part of our family and lived with us forever. If we adopted you, you would no longer be foster children, you'd be our children."

"Peter and I have already decided what we would like to see happen, but we need both of you to think about what you want." El paused waiting for the information to sink in. "If you decide that you would like to be adopted, Rachel Hammond will talk to you, a judge will need to interview you to make sure you know what you're getting into and then Peter and I would sign lots and lots of papers to make it all official. But the next step is up to you boys, deciding if that's what you want to happen."

"Can I ask a question?"

"Of course, Mozzie. Ask as many as you like."

"If you adopt us, will everything stay like it is now?"

"Absolutely. What you see now is what you get. But we don't want you making any decisions today, we just want you to start thinking about it okay? What about you Neal? Would you like to ask anything?"

"Ah… can I hab my cookie now Wizzybif?"

"After you've eaten 'all' your lunch sweetie. Remember I said you could have the cookie only after you've had something substantial."

"Yeah, I wemeber." Neal groaned as he drummed his fingernails on the table.

"Look Peter, Neal and I have already thought about it, we've discussed it, we've considered it and we've analyzed it. If you want to put some type of cooling off period time frame on it then that's understandable but the answer will still be the same at the end of the day as it is now."

"Which is?" El asked hopefully.

"Well of course we want to be adopted. It's what we want, it's what we've always wanted. We already feel a part of the family. It feels right. We never had any doubts about it ourselves." Peter gave the boy a pointed look. "We'll okay, maybe a couple but in our defense, we wouldn't have suspected a conspiracy if you hadn't been all secretive with Rachel and her 'acceptable placements' file."

"Mozzie I have one word for you, eavesdropping!"

The older boy looked slightly guilty and quickly changed the subject. "May I be excused?"

Peter narrowed his eyes. "Where are you going?"

"I need to use the bathroom. I've been drinking all this water on the table while I've been waiting for my meal," Mozzie turned back in the direction of the kitchen, "I could have made it myself by now, and anyway, now I'm going to bust!"

"Well quick then, I'll go with you." Peter hopped up, pulling on Mozzie's arm.

"I don't need a babysitter Peter, I'll be fine, it's like twenty feet between here and the men's room. Nothing could possibly happen to me."

"I'm not worried about you, young man. I'm worried about the guy inside sitting at the corner booth. He's on his first date and when he goes to pay the bill and finds his wallet missing, well let's just say, I don't need you to be considered the number one suspect."

"Great, so now I have a shadow, anytime I go near a group of people?"

"Pretty much buddy boy. You brought it on yourself so no complaining." Peter pulled the older boy off towards the inner doors.

El studied the little chap coloring in the napkin across from her. It was quite surreal considering how they'd first met in this very same spot as victim and thief and now, several weeks later here they were as mother and son. Fate sure had a strange way of bringing about that which was meant to be. El reached across the table for her glass of water and in doing so knocked her handbag off onto the pavement.

Neal caught the mishap and jumped up to retrieve the bag from off the ground. "Why thank you young man." El repeated the phrase she'd used all those weeks ago during their first encounter.

Neal smiled up, the same smile he'd given that day, right down to the interesting expression El couldn't put her finger on at the time.

"Neal," El placed a hand on top of the little boy's arm. "Do you remember when we first met?"

Neal nodded.

"Do you remember when you handed me back my bag and we smiled at each other."

"Yes."

It was crazy asking a five year old to recall something that happened six weeks earlier but she'd learned that Neal was no ordinary five year old. "Neal when you looked at me that day, it was like you wanted to ask me something. Do you remember what that was?"

Neal nodded.

"Can you tell me now sweetie?"

The little boy looked off into the distance as he recalled the moment. "I dowt wemember my mommy, Wizzybif."

El showed no outward signs of the surprise that statement caused for her on the inside. "That's understandable, sweetie. You were just a baby when you last saw her."

"Sometimes I magine hew. She'd be nice, hab darwk curwy hairw wike mine. She would hab blue eyes wike me."

"There's a very good chance you got your gorgeous looks from her sweetie."

"Well, when I saw you dat day, I fought you wooked wike wot my mommy would wook wike."

"Oh sweetie, is that what you were thinking?" El wanted to wrap the irresistible little moppet up in her arms and never let him go.

"I wanded to awsk you…" Neal stopped, unsure if he should continue.

El understood. "You wanted to ask if I was your mommy?"

Neal shrugged, "Maaybee. Maaybee I wanded to awsk if you would be my…Neber mind, it was silly."

"Neal, it's not silly." El pulled the little moppet up from his chair and sat him on her lap. "Besides, it's not too late to ask. You didn't get a chance last time but here we are again. Now's your chance."

Neal leaned in against El's chest. "Wizzybif… will you be my mommy?"

"Neal, my beautiful boy, there wouldn't be anything in this whole world that would make me happier than to be your mommy." She squeezed him tight till he finally pulled away.

"Wizzybif…"

"Yes sweetie?"

"I need to use the barfroom too."

El chuckled while lifting the little boy off her knee and pointing in the direction of the men's room. "Hurry and you'll catch up with Peter and Mozzie."

Neal jogged in the direction the others had headed but stopped a short distance away and turned back. He lifted his bony little arm and gave her a sweet wave before calling out, "Lub you Mommy."

* THE END *

AUTHOR'S NOTE PART 2: Moppets began as a trade on the FanFiction Exchange Program over on Live Journal, ( the - ff -exchange dot live journal dot com ) created by my friend, the amazingly talented Kinky Sprite. We're always looking for others to join in the fic trading and perhaps you have an idea for a fic you'd like to see written, in exchange for filling someone else's story prompt. It's fun to write a story but it's also a real treat to have one written especially for you! K S wrote a wonderfully touching Peter/Neal Father/Son Trilogy in return for this Moppets Story. To encourage others, I've listed a couple of prompts to trade for more subsequent Moppet stories, such as Moppets go to school, Moppets find a gun, Moppets get adopted, plus the beginning of an idea I had for Moppets visit the Bureau (posted below). Maybe you have an idea of your own. Consider coming and having a look if you're keen. Cheers!

MOPPETS VISIT THE BUREAU

(Chapter 1)

Peter slid his house key into the lock and opened the outer front door. He smiled to himself while thinking how good it was to be home. He missed his family while at work and it took him a fair effort to stay focused on the white collar cases rather than thinking about what everyone was getting up to without him during the day. He stepped inside the inner door and placed his briefcase on the ground. The house was quiet, way too quiet! And by the way, where were his welcome home hugs? El was in the kitchen, he could tell from the clanging of the saucepan lids and from the distinct aroma of slow cooked beef casserole waffling through. Perhaps the boys were off having their shower. El had this thing about them coming to the dinner table all clean and germ free. Peter thought it was bordering on pedantic but he let it be and didn't interfere. The agent stepped into the living area and, being the seasoned FBI investigator that he was, immediately noticed something amiss. Two dining chairs, oddly placed, facing two separate corners, each holding one moppet a piece. Peter hadn't seen this configuration before but he guessed it must be some type of 'naughty chair' set up. He looked over at Mozzie. The boy was sitting on the chair, his legs up and folded on the seat, elbows resting on his thighs like he was in some type of meditation pose. "Hello Mozzie."

"Hi Peter." The nine year old didn't turn around or move from his contemplative position.

Peter turned to the other corner. The littlest moppet was kneeling on the ground, his arms resting on the seat of the chair. He peered up at Peter through the gap in frame at the back of the dining chair. "Hello Neal." A short time passed but no reply. Peter waited a moment before trying again. "Hello Neal."

"I not awoud to peak."

Peter raised his eyebrows. "Oh, fair enough." Continuing on through to the kitchen, he thought he'd better get the lowdown from the boss first, before any further investigating took place.

"Hi honey, how was your day?" El greeted her husband.

"Very satisfying. We finally made significant progress on the Watershed Case this afternoon. Should be able to make an arrest by the end of the week at the latest. And tell me El, how was your afternoon? When I called you at lunch, all was quiet. No injuries, no illness, no serious infractions so I'm guessing the crime took place sometime in the last couple of hours?"

"About an hour ago."

"I see. So who, what and HOW!" The last word was shouted by the agent as an extremly strange little creature came padding into the kitchen. "What the?" Peter was trying not to shout. "That's not…"

"Satchmo?" El nodded confirming all Peter's fears. His poor little puppy had been turned into some designer art project.

"Yeah, I was thinking maybe, but Satchmo's not fluorescent green and candy pink, plus, the last time I looked he had hair on his legs."

"I wasn't sure if you'd notice." El gave Peter a cheeky grin. "Poor pup's had a bit of a makeover courtesy of one of our little moppets."

"A bit! He couldn't look any more different if he'd morphed into a mountain goat!"

El chuckled, "You don't think that's a slight exaggeration, hon? Plus, Satchmo doesn't seem to care. I think he fancies all the attention he's been getting since the transformation."

"Perhaps if we showed him what he looked like in the mirror he might care." The puppy was licking Peter's shoes, oblivious of the fact that the conversation from above was centred on his appearance. "So which one of the delinquents did the dirty deed, as if I couldn't guess already?"

"Well, neither of the boys have owned up to it yet?"

"Really?" Peter raised his eyebrows as he swiped a finger across the lemon meringue pudding set aside for desert. "Hence the 'naughty chairs'?"

"Yeah. I told them they could stay there until either I finished cooking the dinner or you arrived home from work. Whichever came first. And since I'm still cooking the veggies, the file for their latest criminal exploit has landed squarely on your desk, Agent Burke." Elizabeth winked at her husband. "Lucky you!"

"El, it wouldn't be the case that you deliberately delayed mashing the potatoes so you could pass up on having to handle the investigation… would it?"

"Oh please, nothing so sinister. I just had the steamer on too low by accident. Must have bumped the dial when I removed it from the cupboard earlier."

"Of course." Peter didn't buy it for a second. "So how long till dinner?"

"About twenty minutes."

"Well I guess I better go and deal with the architect of this particular offense."

"Good luck."

"Like I need it," Peter shot over his shoulder as he pushed open the kitchen door.

"Right! Front and centre!" Peter snapped his fingers and the two little mischief makers sprang from their naughty chairs and placed themselves before the agent. He took a moment to study the expressions on the youthful little faces before him. One bored and offended, the other, guilty as all hell. "So boys, which one of you decided our poor little puppy needed a cut and colour?" There was no response to his enquiry, only squirming and sighing. "Okay, let's try this, I'm going to ask the question one more time and then I'm going to count backwards from three. When I get to zero there are going to be some serious consequences for refusing to answer. Understand?"

Both boys nodded but remained silent.

"Perfect, now, which of you painted Satchmo and cut the hair on his legs?" Peter paused before he began the count. "Three."

Neal looked unhappily over at his older friend before gazing up at Peter with hurt puppy dog eyes. Peter crossed his arms and frowned at the littlest moppet. "Two."

Mozzie put his hands into his pockets and dropped his gaze to the floor. He was better off if he didn't have to look in Peter's direction. It wasn't a great stretch of the imagination to consider what 'serious consequences' meant. He glanced across at the kid, squirming and sweating beside him. Unreal. He sure had a lot to learn about withstanding the pressures of an interrogation!

"One."

"Fine!" Mozzie sighed deeply and looked Peter in the eye. "Whatever. I did it okay. I thought the pup was in need of a change of style. Why be boring? Variety is the spice of life right?"

Peter pressed his lips together, not at all impressed with Mozzie's confession, stepping forward to land a very hard swat to the boy's backside.

"Yeowww!" Mozzie yelped as he reached back to rub at his butt.

Peter pointed a stern finger at the older boy's face. "That was for lying to me." Peter then stepped over to Neal and planted an equally solid smack to his little butt. The youngster cried out and also rubbed at the sting. "And that," Peter pointed, "was for letting him! Mozzie?"

"Yes sir?"

"Go and see if your mother needs a hand in the kitchen please."

"Yes sir."

"And Mozzie, while you are there I want you to write out rule number seven, twenty times."

"Twenty?" Mozzie groaned and was about to argue the sentence when he thought better of it. "Twenty? Sure, no problem." The nine year old trotted off to the kitchen leaving Agent Burke to deal with the pint-sized perp.

Peter took the little boy's arm and led him over to the couch. He sat down and put Neal on his lap. "Now little one, you ready to tell me what happened."

Neal shrugged.

"You know you are not making this any easier for yourself, kiddo."

"But I don't want to get in twouble." Neal fiddled with the buttons on Peter's shirt.

"Well perhaps you should have considered that before you shaved off puppy's leg hair and painted him in fluoro green."

"I wanted to see what he would wook wike."

"Did you know you would get in trouble for doing that to Satchmo?"

"Ah, my not sure."

"Okay then, let me put it this way, if I had been sitting in the room with you would you still have done it?"

"Noooo."

"Why not?"

"Cause you would hab said it was naughty and got cwanky with me."

"That's right. So you did know it was wrong?"

Neal's little face dropped and his bottom lip quivered. Yep, he knew it was wrong alright.

"Neal, why didn't you own up when El asked you earlier?"

"Cause she would hab macked my bottom and it would hab herwt."

"Yeah, but now you're still in trouble and to make it worse, you were happy to just stand back and let Mozzie take the blame. I'm very disappointed in you young man."

Neal's face dropped and the tears that had been threatening came pouring out in a deluge. "I sowwy. I didna mean to get Moz in twoble."

"Hey kiddo. I know you didn't but by not telling the truth, that's exactly what happened. Mozzie was prepared to take the blame for something you did. Did Mozzie have any part in you painting or cutting Satchmo's hair?"

"Noooo. He wab weading his book."The little boy sniffled while rubbing his eyes with his knuckles.

"I see. So your best friend, who was innocently reading a book while you were into mischief is made to sit in a chair and face the corner because you won't own up when El asks which one of you made a mess of Satchmo?"

"I widn't mean too," the youngster babbled into his hands.

"Well young man, I think you know that you did the wrong thing by decorating Satchmo." Peter paused. Now for the hard part. "You know what I have to do now young man?"

Through the tears, the youngster pleaded, "No pwease. I won't pwaint Satchie again eber. I don't want a panking."

Neal's protest landed on deaf ears as he was lifted up and over Peter's knee. The little boy continued to cry out as several swats were landed over the top of his pajama bottoms. The wacks weren't particularly hard, just enough to reinforce the message Peter had already discussed with the little boy. "When you've done something wrong, own up." Whack. "Good friends don't get their buddies in trouble." Whack. "No more decorating the dog." Whack.

Peter lifted the weeping child up into his arms and cuddled him against his chest. "Okay young man, I believe you owe a couple of apologies."

Neal wiped his eyes and nose on Peter's shirt. The agent rolled his eyes. How many times had the little boy done that to one of his work shirts? "I sowwy dadda."

Peter smiled. "I didn't mean me little one. Your mommy and brother are the ones who need an apology." He lifted Neal down off his lap and pushed him gently in the direction of the kitchen but the little chap spun back and tilted his head in thought.

"I pwabably should pologize to Satchie too?"

"Good idea buddy." The agent chuckled and wondered how the hell he was going to turn the art project back into the family pet!