Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to White Collar. Just having a little bit of fun with the characters.
By: Vanessa Sgroi
"Neal, stop eating all the candy!" muttered Peter.
"I'm not eating all the candy!" Neal mumbled around a mouthful of chocolate. He clenched his fist, concealing a good number of snack-sized candy bar wrappers. They crinkled accusingly.
"I'm going to tell Elizabeth you're eating all of her candy."
"You wouldn't! Besides technically it's not her candy; it's candy for the trick-or-treaters." Neal stealthily unwrapped another chocolate bar and shoved it in his mouth.
Peter's wife entered the living room from the kitchen carrying a giant bowl of popcorn, a bag of chips, and several cans of soda. She looked at her husband and smiled. "What?" She sat the treats down on the end table near the couch.
"Neal's eating all the candy! I warned you this would happen when you asked him to come over for Halloween. You should've bought gum or something to hand out."
Elizabeth shushed Peter and approached Neal. She patted his rounded chipmunk-like cheeks. "Neal, stop eating the candy," she scolded lightly, "you won't have room for the pizza and even worse, you won't have room for dessert—Kitty Litter Cake."
Neal swallowed the candy and looked at Peter. "Wait—did she say Kitty Litter Cake?"
Peter shrugged and nodded at the same time. "It's tradition. She serves it every Halloween."
"Just go with the flow, Neal."
El looked up from the horror movie selections she was perusing, a twinkle in her eyes. "A girl's gotta have a little fun—it's Halloween." She held out a DVD. "Why don't we start with this one?"
The three of them had just settled down to watch the movie when the doorbell rang. Elizabeth lifted her head off Peter's shoulder and said, "That's probably the pizza guy. Honey, do you mind?" She nudged Peter's shoulder.
Caffrey jumped up from his chair. "Hey, you guys stay there, I'll get it."
Elizabeth nodded and snuggled back into Peter's side. "Money's on the little table."
A yelp and the slamming of the front door brought the Burkes' to their feet. They hurried to the entryway where they found Neal standing with his back to the door, eyes wide and face pale.
Concerned, El asked, "Neal, sweetie, what's wrong?"
Neal swallowed hard before answering. "Uhhh, clown. An incredibly huge, freaky-looking clown. With an axe—he may have had an axe in his hand."
"A clown?" Peter's voice was just a shade off. "See, this is why I let you handle the trick-or-treaters." He gave his wife a sidelong glance.
The doorbell rang again. When neither Neal nor Peter made a move to answer, Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "Oh, for Heaven's sake, two grown men and they're both afraid of clowns. I'll get it." A minute or so later, she turned back to Peter and Neal, pizza box in hand. "Antonio, the pizza guy. And your 'axe'? A free loaf of garlic bread." Shaking her head, she headed back to the living room.
"Just so you know," Peter called after her, "I'm not afraid of clowns. I just have a highly-sensitive, completely rational concern about them."
Neal nodded in complete agreement. "Yeah, rational concern—that's it."
The doorbell rang once more.
Peter and Neal spoke simultaneously. "I think you should get it."