Work Text:
It's not that Matt has never seen a pregnant woman before - he has.
It's just that it's Tiffani now, and it's not that he's jealous or wishing the baby was his or even that he's gotten a little bit lost in Neal again, trying to figure out what this will do to Peter, how being a father is going to change Peter (although yeah, he's talked about that to Tim and to Tiffani and then to Tim some more, and on second thought, maybe Simon's right when he lets his roles get to him a little bit too much sometimes).
"Thinking about what you're missing out on?" Tim asks, and from anyone else, the question might have sounded a little bit like a slur, like asking if maybe Matt regrets being, well, Matt - in which case the answer would be easy and run along the lines of: 'no, but I'm sorry you're a narrow-minded idiot who gets to vote on my right to get married'. Coming from Tim, it's just a question.
Matt shrugs. "Well, we've got kids, you know."
"No, seriously?" Tim widens his eyes in an expression of surprise that's ridiculously exaggerated. He claims only a great actor can make bad acting look funny. "You should bring some pictures some time."
Matt would sooner say a great actor can look funny doing pretty much anything. "Sadly, my co-workers seem unable to keep from teasing me about carrying around a photographs of them in my wallet."
"Some people are just immature." Tim switches to 'sad and sympathetic'.
"Yeah."
Tim nods. "Nothing funny about having some pictures of your kids. Everybody does that."
Matt's turn to nod, and wait for the punchline.
"Pictures of your dogs, on the other hand ... " Tim shrugs. "Asking for it."
Simon always answers his phone on the third ring. Matt has given up by now to guess at what that means, if there are people who get picked up on the first ring, the second ring. (He knows there are people who get picked up on the fourth or fifth ring, or directed to voicemail even when Simon's not in the middle of something.)
"Hey. How are you and the kids?"
"We're great. How are you and your fellow-actors?"
They've established a sort of order in their inquiries by now.
"Tim says people who've got photos of their dogs in their wallets deserve to get teased."
"No comment," Simon says. "How is Jeff? Any more pictures I should be googling?"
"Well, he caught me coming out of the shower the other day."
"Funny." There's a smile in Simon's voice though, and Matt can almost picture him in his mind, still sitting at his desk, leaning back in his chair. (It's a nice, sturdy chair, not like the ones you see on TV sometimes, the ones that would tip over if you tried anything other than sitting by your lonesome self on them. Which, okay, maybe that's what chairs are for, but even so.)
"How are the dogs?"
"Missing you."
"How are you?"
There's a soft ding! in the background - a new e-mail, most likely. "I already answered that one."
"Work?"
Simon sighs. "We can't all make our money just by looking fabulous in a pair of handcuffs."
"I'll ask the prop people if I can take a pair home with me next week." He'll also ask them to show the way to open them without a key one last time, just to be safe.
All things considered, it's probably a good thing the writers want for Peter and Neal to grow closer, to like and trust each other. Matt thinks he might have been able to regard Tim (or rather: Peter) with suspicion and distrust, but he'd probably do something embarrassing like burst out laughing once the scene is done - in which case Jeff would probably put together a gag reel consisting of nothing but Matt laughing hysterically after accusing Tim/Peter of holding out on him.
"Having kids isn't the same as getting a baby," Tim says, pretty much out of the blue, except that Matt still remembers their conversation from earlier, and Tim presumably knows he does.
Matt nods. "Kids are more fun."
Tim gives him Peter Burke's arched eyebrow. " 'Kids are more fun'?"
Perhaps Matt deserves that, but all the same: "No diapers?"
"Diapers are - not fun," Tim acknowledges. His expression tells Matt he's considering arguing the point. "Maybe you should bring them over some time."
"Simon is worried I'm setting a bad example for them." Not that Simon really thinks most of what Matt-as-Neal does is very understandable for a pair of three-year-olds or even a bright five-year-old.
Tim grins. "Are you saying you're not? I mean, do you really want them to grow up and be like Neal?"
"Sophisticated, witty, artistic, classy and with great taste in wine, food and clothes?"
"You forgot the coffee."
Matt shrugs. "Italian roast's not all it's made out to be. Simon got me a box for Christmas. Nothing special about it, really - and, trust me, he got the good stuff."
"I'm sure he did," Tim says dryly, as if he's Peter, humoring Neal by letting him get away with some outrageous claim or another. "What'd you get him?"
"Sorry, I think that would fall under the header of 'too much information'." Matt waggles his eyebrows.
"Oh, like that, was it?"
The dinner part of the evening was fairly PG-rated, actually, but to admit so would rather spoil things, Matt thinks - he's got a reputation to protect, after all. "What can I say?"
"A simple 'yes' would probably cover it." Tim looks like Neal would look if Peter'd not tell him the details of a romantic evening spent with Elizabeth.
"Then: yes."
"All right." Tim nods slowly. "You bring over your kids, and I'll introduce them to Agent Peter Burke. How's that? Good enough role-model to satisfy your husband?"
"Let's see," Matt says. "Consistently late for dinner. Regularly forgets anniversaries. No appreciation for the finer things in life. A workaholic."
Tim scowls Peter's scowl. "You forgot the part where he flirts with his consultant in spite of being married."
"Yeah, and that. But hey, if you're ever in the neighborhood, drop by for a visit. We'd love to have you."
"I've always wondered what it's like to be in an all-male threesome," Tim says.
"Me, too," Matt says.
Their grins are exactly alike this time.