White Collar - Roman Slavefic AU
OK, so I have a new obsession - it’s called White Collar and I know I’m late to the party (it’s now in its second season), but I was only given the DVD of season one for Christmas!!
For people who don’t know - it’s about a conman (Neal Caffrey) who makes a deal with the FBI agent who caught him (Peter Burke) to be his CI (Confidential Informant) thus being free of prison and able to search for his partner/girlfriend Kate. Neal wears a tracking anklet (ooh, the fun - Peter even says ‘I own you for four years’!) and, in spite of the fantastic Mrs Peter (El), there is plenty of slashy goodness!
Anyhoo - I answered a prompt on the white collar kinkmeme for a Roman AU... and here’s my first White Collar fic - un-beta’d, so please point out any mistakes...
So this is Peter/Neal, maybe (if I can get my head round it) including El (eep - threesome?) and it needs to be labelled NC-17 just in case... not sure how raunchy it's going to get... I have a whole second half of this to write! So, enjoy...!
Roman AU slavefic
Part One
Peter never went to the Forum in Rome to buy slaves. For a start, they were always overpriced, but also they had all been conditioned, beaten, turned into whatever specialist the traders had earmarked them for. A metalworker or a dancing girl would earn much more money than an all-purpose ‘slave’. Traders in Rome were salesmen, people who had made ‘talking clients into parting with their money’ an art form. Peter was very good at seeing through the blather and the sales crap and he always ended up causing fights, arguments and, usually, several arrests when he went to the Forum. It was fun and it appealed to Peter’s sense of ‘doing the right thing’, but he never ended up with the slave he was looking for.
So El had vetoed him going to the Forum and he had become used to coming straight to the port where they unloaded the poor bastards from the ships. At least here he could see what the slaves were really like and maybe save... buy some of them. And they were cheaper here.
“I don’t know how you’re ever going to find ‘the one’ this way, Boss,” Jones muttered, half intending his Patron to hear him. It was a familiar gripe, one that was trotted out every time they came to Ostia.
While Peter had never been the kind of Patron who liked to have a hundred clients following him everywhere to show how important he was, he was the kind of Senator who took his duties seriously and he supported his clients. Jones had been a soldier in his regiment in Britain and had followed Peter back to Rome, acting as an amanuensis and best friend in spite of the gap in their social backgrounds.
“I’ll know when I see him,” Peter replied with a smile, as he always did, ignoring Jones’ sigh.
There were slaves of all shapes and sizes being herded off the ships. Tall, small, fat, thin, women, men and children, all blinking in the bright daylight and grasping their chained hands or necks, depending on the ways of each captain. Peter watched from a near distance and did a quick mental tally, working out how many he could buy now...
“Catch him!” came a yell from one of the ships just pulling in and Peter turned in time to see a man climbing up a rope, water dripping from his dip in the sea. “He’s escaping!”
Yells of frustration ensued as the man slipped past the sailors from other ships, ducking past his potential captors. He still appeared to have a chain attached to one wrist, but had managed to free his other hand. He barrelled past the Captain of the ship Peter had been watching and ran straight towards Peter.
Peter saw the bright blue eyes of a man who was not desperate, but whose eyes were alight with excitement and hope. Peter stepped to one side to let the man through and saw a flash of gratitude on the escaping slave’s face.
“He’ll be caught,” Jones assured him and Peter nodded.
“But at least he will know that he tried to escape.”
The senator turned and watched as another mariner tackled the young man, who twisted and knocked the man off the quay. He could have escaped then, but the slave did an astonishing thing. He suddenly stopped, doubled back and then dived into the water to rescue the man he had been running from.
By the time both men were back on dry land, the slave was being chained up again and dragged towards his owners. He was thrown at the feet of the slaver who berated him, told him that he would be flogged and used and then dragged him away.
“Wait!” Peter shouted, running towards the slaver.
“Yes sir?” the slaver stopped on seeing the broad purple stripe on Peter’s tunic and toga. You didn’t turn your back on a Senator.
“I want to buy him,” Peter announced, holding out his hand to Jones for his purse.
“What? The escaping slave? Sir, he’s trouble,” the slaver spat and Peter winced at the awful manners.
“I really don’t care. How much?”
“I’m really sorry, sir, but they aren’t mine to sell. You need to talk to Edward Walker, sir, he’s the boss,” the Captain spat again. “But I don’t think you’ll get any joy - besides the stupid brat is mute or something!”
“He doesn’t sound mute!” Jones protested as they heard the sound of a whip and a cry of pain.
“How much to stop the whipping?” Peter asked.
“Stop the...?” the Captain asked, astonished. “But he’ll try and run again!”
“Stop it and let me talk to him. I’ll pay you well,” Peter insisted as arrogantly as he could. He was the son of a plebeian, but he had worked his way up the ranks and could be as arrogant as any noble born man.
Part Two
For people who don’t know - it’s about a conman (Neal Caffrey) who makes a deal with the FBI agent who caught him (Peter Burke) to be his CI (Confidential Informant) thus being free of prison and able to search for his partner/girlfriend Kate. Neal wears a tracking anklet (ooh, the fun - Peter even says ‘I own you for four years’!) and, in spite of the fantastic Mrs Peter (El), there is plenty of slashy goodness!
Anyhoo - I answered a prompt on the white collar kinkmeme for a Roman AU... and here’s my first White Collar fic - un-beta’d, so please point out any mistakes...
So this is Peter/Neal, maybe (if I can get my head round it) including El (eep - threesome?) and it needs to be labelled NC-17 just in case... not sure how raunchy it's going to get... I have a whole second half of this to write! So, enjoy...!
Roman AU slavefic
Part One
Peter never went to the Forum in Rome to buy slaves. For a start, they were always overpriced, but also they had all been conditioned, beaten, turned into whatever specialist the traders had earmarked them for. A metalworker or a dancing girl would earn much more money than an all-purpose ‘slave’. Traders in Rome were salesmen, people who had made ‘talking clients into parting with their money’ an art form. Peter was very good at seeing through the blather and the sales crap and he always ended up causing fights, arguments and, usually, several arrests when he went to the Forum. It was fun and it appealed to Peter’s sense of ‘doing the right thing’, but he never ended up with the slave he was looking for.
So El had vetoed him going to the Forum and he had become used to coming straight to the port where they unloaded the poor bastards from the ships. At least here he could see what the slaves were really like and maybe save... buy some of them. And they were cheaper here.
“I don’t know how you’re ever going to find ‘the one’ this way, Boss,” Jones muttered, half intending his Patron to hear him. It was a familiar gripe, one that was trotted out every time they came to Ostia.
While Peter had never been the kind of Patron who liked to have a hundred clients following him everywhere to show how important he was, he was the kind of Senator who took his duties seriously and he supported his clients. Jones had been a soldier in his regiment in Britain and had followed Peter back to Rome, acting as an amanuensis and best friend in spite of the gap in their social backgrounds.
“I’ll know when I see him,” Peter replied with a smile, as he always did, ignoring Jones’ sigh.
There were slaves of all shapes and sizes being herded off the ships. Tall, small, fat, thin, women, men and children, all blinking in the bright daylight and grasping their chained hands or necks, depending on the ways of each captain. Peter watched from a near distance and did a quick mental tally, working out how many he could buy now...
“Catch him!” came a yell from one of the ships just pulling in and Peter turned in time to see a man climbing up a rope, water dripping from his dip in the sea. “He’s escaping!”
Yells of frustration ensued as the man slipped past the sailors from other ships, ducking past his potential captors. He still appeared to have a chain attached to one wrist, but had managed to free his other hand. He barrelled past the Captain of the ship Peter had been watching and ran straight towards Peter.
Peter saw the bright blue eyes of a man who was not desperate, but whose eyes were alight with excitement and hope. Peter stepped to one side to let the man through and saw a flash of gratitude on the escaping slave’s face.
“He’ll be caught,” Jones assured him and Peter nodded.
“But at least he will know that he tried to escape.”
The senator turned and watched as another mariner tackled the young man, who twisted and knocked the man off the quay. He could have escaped then, but the slave did an astonishing thing. He suddenly stopped, doubled back and then dived into the water to rescue the man he had been running from.
By the time both men were back on dry land, the slave was being chained up again and dragged towards his owners. He was thrown at the feet of the slaver who berated him, told him that he would be flogged and used and then dragged him away.
“Wait!” Peter shouted, running towards the slaver.
“Yes sir?” the slaver stopped on seeing the broad purple stripe on Peter’s tunic and toga. You didn’t turn your back on a Senator.
“I want to buy him,” Peter announced, holding out his hand to Jones for his purse.
“What? The escaping slave? Sir, he’s trouble,” the slaver spat and Peter winced at the awful manners.
“I really don’t care. How much?”
“I’m really sorry, sir, but they aren’t mine to sell. You need to talk to Edward Walker, sir, he’s the boss,” the Captain spat again. “But I don’t think you’ll get any joy - besides the stupid brat is mute or something!”
“He doesn’t sound mute!” Jones protested as they heard the sound of a whip and a cry of pain.
“How much to stop the whipping?” Peter asked.
“Stop the...?” the Captain asked, astonished. “But he’ll try and run again!”
“Stop it and let me talk to him. I’ll pay you well,” Peter insisted as arrogantly as he could. He was the son of a plebeian, but he had worked his way up the ranks and could be as arrogant as any noble born man.
Part Two