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Two short White Collar fics
Two short little fics. One spoilery, one not. (Sorry.)
Peter & Neal play Clue:
gen, written for (and originally posted at) this prompt at![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
collarcorner. ~400 wds, dialogue only, no spoilers.
"Neal, what are you doing? You can't get into the library that way. There's no door."
"I went over the wall."
"You can't do that."
"I used the rope. See?"
"You still can't do that. It's cheating."
"Who's going to stop me? Colonel Mustard is all the way over in the kitchen."
"... so that's how it's going to be? Fine."
"Peter, why is Colonel Mustard heading my way?"
"Because he's going to arrest you."
"He can't arrest me, Peter. He's a colonel. He doesn't have authority to arrest anyone."
"He's been deputized."
"By whom?"
"Mr. Green. Who is actually Agent Green. He's undercover."
"Are you serious?"
"Don't complain to me. You're the one who scaled the library wall. All these rooms have too many windows to hold a prisoner ... oh, the cellar would probably do."
"It's not a room, Peter. It's where the cards go. You can't go in there. More to the point, you can't put me in there."
"Oh, look who's a stickler for the rules now."
*dice*
*dice*
*dice*
*dice*
"I had no idea it was so hard to corner someone on this game board."
"Maybe because it's not designed for chasing people, Peter?"
"You break the rules, I chase you around the gameboard until I capture you."
*dice*
*dice*
*dice*
"You know, Peter, there's something about this slow-motion chase that reminds me a lot of our actual --"
"Smartass."
~
Homesick:
Mozzie POV, gen, "Judgment Day" post-episode, major spoilers for 3x16. ~500 wds. Also posted at AO3.
It would be funny, Mozzie thinks, if it weren't so pathetic -- but of all the problems he expected when they left New York, he never could have anticipated this.
He knew all along that Neal would be an issue. Actually, he never expected Neal to say yes at all -- but still, he had to ask, and he already had the pieces in place for a quick escape in case the commutation hearing didn't go well. Neal's gentle "no" in the ambulance was the answer he'd expected. Not the breathless phone call, a day later, whispering a single word: "Infrared."
Infrared. Their old color code. Infrared is the state beyond "red". It means "drop everything now; we have to get out."
(Learning later that Neal ran because Peter told him to -- well, Mozzie isn't surprised, exactly. A little disappointed, but not surprised.)
Even once they're free and clear, he knows Neal is going to take it hard. He expects Neal to be moody and distracted and depressed, and he gets all of that, and then some.
But he never saw the rest of it coming.
He never would have believed how often he'll start reading a book and want to call Elizabeth and discuss a plot point with her. Or he'll smell a certain perfume, sip a particular blend of tea, and it'll take him straight back to long winter afternoons playing cribbage and Parcheesi with June. Heaven help him, he even misses the Suit, although he can't imagine why and knows he wouldn't admit it even under torture.
He never could have anticipated that when they go to fence the first pieces of the treasure to finance their glorious retirement, the gold coins fall through his fingers and all he can see is the bruising on Elizabeth's arms, the desperation in Peter's eyes. He looks at Neal and sees the sick look on his friend's face, and they nail the lid back on the crate, and speak of it no more.
The unexpected lack of funding means that, rather than living the high life, they're forced to nurse along the few reserves that Mozzie was able to liquidate before they left. They run little cons -- card games, simple street cons -- to supplement their meager income. Whenever Mozzie suggests anything big, Neal won't go for it; he doesn't want to try anything that he thinks might get back to Peter. Doesn't want Peter to know they're still in the lifestyle.
They might as well not be, for all the money they're making at it.
And still he thinks of New York. The particular quality of light in the spring. The smell of the streets after a rain. The cab drivers yelling at each other, the SoHo art galleries, the setting sun turning the buildings to sheets of flame.
This is the life he's always dreamed of, ever since he left Detroit as a terrified kid on the run from the mob. He's footloose and free, with his best friend at his side and the world at his feet.
The whole damn world. And all he can think is that it feels more confining than New York ever did.
~
Peter & Neal play Clue:
gen, written for (and originally posted at) this prompt at
collarcorner. ~400 wds, dialogue only, no spoilers."Neal, what are you doing? You can't get into the library that way. There's no door."
"I went over the wall."
"You can't do that."
"I used the rope. See?"
"You still can't do that. It's cheating."
"Who's going to stop me? Colonel Mustard is all the way over in the kitchen."
"... so that's how it's going to be? Fine."
"Peter, why is Colonel Mustard heading my way?"
"Because he's going to arrest you."
"He can't arrest me, Peter. He's a colonel. He doesn't have authority to arrest anyone."
"He's been deputized."
"By whom?"
"Mr. Green. Who is actually Agent Green. He's undercover."
"Are you serious?"
"Don't complain to me. You're the one who scaled the library wall. All these rooms have too many windows to hold a prisoner ... oh, the cellar would probably do."
"It's not a room, Peter. It's where the cards go. You can't go in there. More to the point, you can't put me in there."
"Oh, look who's a stickler for the rules now."
*dice*
*dice*
*dice*
*dice*
"I had no idea it was so hard to corner someone on this game board."
"Maybe because it's not designed for chasing people, Peter?"
"You break the rules, I chase you around the gameboard until I capture you."
*dice*
*dice*
*dice*
"You know, Peter, there's something about this slow-motion chase that reminds me a lot of our actual --"
"Smartass."
~
Homesick:
Mozzie POV, gen, "Judgment Day" post-episode, major spoilers for 3x16. ~500 wds. Also posted at AO3.
It would be funny, Mozzie thinks, if it weren't so pathetic -- but of all the problems he expected when they left New York, he never could have anticipated this.
He knew all along that Neal would be an issue. Actually, he never expected Neal to say yes at all -- but still, he had to ask, and he already had the pieces in place for a quick escape in case the commutation hearing didn't go well. Neal's gentle "no" in the ambulance was the answer he'd expected. Not the breathless phone call, a day later, whispering a single word: "Infrared."
Infrared. Their old color code. Infrared is the state beyond "red". It means "drop everything now; we have to get out."
(Learning later that Neal ran because Peter told him to -- well, Mozzie isn't surprised, exactly. A little disappointed, but not surprised.)
Even once they're free and clear, he knows Neal is going to take it hard. He expects Neal to be moody and distracted and depressed, and he gets all of that, and then some.
But he never saw the rest of it coming.
He never would have believed how often he'll start reading a book and want to call Elizabeth and discuss a plot point with her. Or he'll smell a certain perfume, sip a particular blend of tea, and it'll take him straight back to long winter afternoons playing cribbage and Parcheesi with June. Heaven help him, he even misses the Suit, although he can't imagine why and knows he wouldn't admit it even under torture.
He never could have anticipated that when they go to fence the first pieces of the treasure to finance their glorious retirement, the gold coins fall through his fingers and all he can see is the bruising on Elizabeth's arms, the desperation in Peter's eyes. He looks at Neal and sees the sick look on his friend's face, and they nail the lid back on the crate, and speak of it no more.
The unexpected lack of funding means that, rather than living the high life, they're forced to nurse along the few reserves that Mozzie was able to liquidate before they left. They run little cons -- card games, simple street cons -- to supplement their meager income. Whenever Mozzie suggests anything big, Neal won't go for it; he doesn't want to try anything that he thinks might get back to Peter. Doesn't want Peter to know they're still in the lifestyle.
They might as well not be, for all the money they're making at it.
And still he thinks of New York. The particular quality of light in the spring. The smell of the streets after a rain. The cab drivers yelling at each other, the SoHo art galleries, the setting sun turning the buildings to sheets of flame.
This is the life he's always dreamed of, ever since he left Detroit as a terrified kid on the run from the mob. He's footloose and free, with his best friend at his side and the world at his feet.
The whole damn world. And all he can think is that it feels more confining than New York ever did.
~
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. . . and aw, Mozzie. That feels so very true to him - that he would only realise that he's found a home after he's left it. Aw.
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Thank you!
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Clue!
When we were young, me and my cousins made our own version of Clue using characters from A Little Princess. Now I keep thinking I want to made different fandom versions. :)
Re: Clue!
My sibs and I used to make up our own rules for various board games when we were kids - Monopoly was a particular favorite for that, as was chess.