AN: I. Own. Nothing.

"You bought a car." Peter said in disbelief. Jones raised his eyebrows – his lips pressing together tightly as he fought to smother his laughter.

Neal shrugged and smiled brightly – every gleaming tooth visible. "Business has been good at the bakery. Apparently being owned by a known… reformed conman puts it at tourist attraction level."

"You don't even have a license!" Peter shouted, waving the copies of Neal's bank statements in the conman's face. "At least not a legal one!"

Neal's lips twitched slightly. "That's why I have a chauffeur."

Jones turned away, biting his lip – his eyes shining with mirth.

Peter's mouth fell open and he just stared at Neal – his mouth working but no sound coming out.

"It's Haversham, isn't it?" He said finally.

Neal's smile widened.

Just a little 'bout of silliness. Reviews feed the monster within.