AN: I've been reading Fanfiction for a long time and I've wanted to start writing for a while now. I just needed to come up with the right story to be my first story. Then, on Monday, I saw the celebrity softball game at the MLB All-Star game on ESPN. Tim DeKay was playing and he was having so much fun. I decided I would make my first story one about Peter making Neal play softball. I hope you guys like it!

Disclaimer: I do not own White Collar

"You want me to do what?" Neal asked with a tone mixed with disbelief and amusement.

"You heard me," Peter said. "I want you to play softball. Ruiz challenged White Collar to play Organized Crime next week. We only have eight players so we need you."

"Seriously," Neal said. "It's not just that I don't like sports. I'm horrible at them!"

"Don't worry about that," Peter told him. "You don't need to be good. We just need another player. I'll just put you out in right field. Jones will be playing center so he'll have your back."

"I don't know."

"Come on."

"But-"

"It'll be fun!"

"Peter-"

"I'll coach you. It's just a simple game of softball."

"Fine," Neal gave in. "But you owe me!"

Peter spent the next week coaching Neal whenever they had time. Unfortunately, Neal wasn't kidding when he said he was horrible at sports. He managed to catch some pop flies but he couldn't throw them very far. Peter figured that could be fixed by just having the second baseman play deeper than normal. But he was also an awful batter. In a week, Neal hadn't managed to get one hit. When he did make contact, it was a foul ball or an easy out. Nevertheless, Peter wasn't worried. The rest of the White Collar team was good enough that they would have been able to play Organized Crime with eight players. Ruiz wouldn't know what hit him.

Or maybe he would. The Organized Crime team was better than Peter had imagined. By the bottom of the ninth, they were beating White Collar 8-7. Now Peter's team was down to it's last hope. There were two outs with a man (Jones) on first, and up to the plate stepped Neal. He had actually made a catch in the outfield in the fourth inning, but hadn't gotten any hits at the plate. Everyone figured this would be the end of the game.

"Come on! Easy out!" Ruiz was calling from his spot at third base. Unfortunately for White Collar, everyone knew it was true. In two pitches, Neal had two swinging strikes for a 0-2 count. Laughter and cheers came from the Organized Crime dugout as if they had already won the game. Neal wanted a hit more than anything else just to shut them up.

"Come on Neal! You can do it!" urged Peter from the on deck circle.

Neal took a deep breath as the pitcher went into his windup. As the ball was coming towards him, Neal put everything he had into his swing and made contact! The ball started rolling down the third base line barely staying fair. Ruiz scooped in up and hurled it to first base. Everyone assumed the game was over, but Peter knew better. Neal did have one athletic skill: his speed. Neal was one of the fastest men Peter knew. In the three years that he had chased him, Neal never lost a foot race, and he wasn't going to slow down now. In a play that could have gotten anyone else out, Neal was safe at first with a huge smile on his face.

Peter laughed as he stepped up to the plate. Ruiz was mad and if he hadn't been so set on getting Neal out, he would have been able to make the easier throw to second to get out Jones and end the game.

By now the Organized Crime dugout had quieted down while White Collar's was going crazy. Peter was their best player. He was five for five in the game with a home run, a double, and three singles. All he needed was a solid hit to bring Jones and Neal (with his crazy speed) home and they would win the game.

The first pitch was a called strike. The next two were balls. Finally, Peter saw one he liked and swung at the forth throw. He connected with the ball hearing that sweet popping noise and took off running. The ball sailed through the air. It went back. Back. Back! BACK! And landed neatly in the center fielder's glove. The game was over. White Collar had lost.

That evening found Peter sitting on is couch tossing a baseball up and down. He had left the park right after the game. He couldn't face his teammates or Ruiz. He had lost. If he had just gotten a hit, they would have won! Why couldn't he do it? Neal had managed to get a hit. His first hit! And Peter had left him stranded at first.

Suddenly, a knock at the door got his attention away from his memories of the game. He reluctantly pulled himself up off the couch and went to the door. Standing there was Neal with a big smile on his face. "Hey Peter. You disappeared right after the game. We were all wondering where you went."

"I came home," Peter told him simply.

Neal's smile disappeared. "Oh. Are you okay? You look sad."

"Because we lost the game," Peter informed him as if it were the most obvious fact in the world.

"So?"

"So?" Peter repeated. "So we lost and it's my fault. If I had gotten that hit we would have won. Ruiz is never gonna let me hear the end of this!" Peter plopped back down on the couch and started tossing the baseball again. Neal followed and sat down next to him.

It was silent for a few moments until Neal said, "You know, it wasn't your fault we lost. You hit a home run and had five RBI's! You were our teams MVP!" At the confused look from Peter, Neal added, "I heard Jones say that stuff. But still. We wouldn't have come that close if it weren't for you. Seriously Peter. You didn't make us lose."

When Peter didn't answer and continued tossing the ball, Neal quickly snatched it away. That got an angry glare from Peter, but it was better than nothing. Neal continued, "When I first agreed to play, I thought I would be miserable. As I'm sure you saw, I stink at sports. I figured the whole thing would just be me embarrassing myself and getting sweaty." Peter chuckled at that. "Anyway, I thought I would hate it. But I didn't. I actually had a really good time. I had fun. So thanks for convincing me to play."

Peter just looked at Neal for a moment before he finally smiled and said, "No problem Neal. I had fun too."

"It's still light out," Neal observed. "You wanna go play catch?"

Peter grabbed the ball back from Neal. "I would love to."