Fic: "Late Night Revelations" (Neal, Mozzie; PG-13)
Fandom: White Collar
Title: Late Night Revelations
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Moz and Neal have a discussion. Revelations are made.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Property of USA/NBC Universal and Jeff Eastin.
Pairing/Characters: Neal Caffrey, Mozzie Haversham, implied Peter Burke/Neal Caffrey/Elizabeth Burke
A/N: First dip into the White Collar fandom! Hopefully it turned out. It wasn't what I expected for my first piece, but it is what it is. *shrugs*
A/N #2: Thanks to serene_quill for the beta.
Neal stumbles into his apartment well into the wee hours, humming quietly but tunelessly. He's loose limbed, sated, and to anyone who stops to take a second look, clearly well fucked. He can still feel the ghosts of kisses and caresses all over his body. His only, albeit small, regret is not being able to stay the rest of the night, but the tracker is still an albatross he can't shake.
He's still enjoying the buzz tingling through him, the newness and endorphins enough to not care about keeping up appearances this late at night. Even if June was up, he has a feeling that she'd just give him a knowing smile and send him up to his rooms. She's scarily perceptive that way, and would have been a wonder of a con artist herself in the day. Neal wishes he could have seen her in action.
"Someone's trying to fence your Mondrian," comes from the shadows in the vicinity of the couch.
Shit. Of all nights. Internally he cringes, but keeps his expression neutral.
"Oh?" he says, feigning nonchalance. Like he comes home every night in the wee hours, disheveled and clearly well fucked. "Has anyone noticed yet?"
"No. Not yet. And they might not." Moz squints at him, expression turning sour. Double shit.
Neal's careful to not turn on too many lights. "Well, it was one of my better pieces. It'd take someone as good as me to be able to tell it's a fake."
Moz blinks at him. "Is that a hickey?" he asks incredulously.
Neal ignores the comment. "What about the Degas from the same job?"
"No. No movement on any other pieces. Just the Mondrian. And don't try to evade! Tell me it's not Kate."
Neal says nothing.
"No, if it was Kate, you'd be trailing after her like an idiot." Moz sighs. "Alex? At least she's better than Kate. You know, there are plenty of other women ready to fall at your feet everywhere we go. You could just have a nice one night stand and move on like a normal conman, but no, you have to be some tragic romantic." Moz huffs, and Neal rolls his eyes but refuses to respond.
Alex is tempting, beautiful, and occasionally willing, but their history is just too much, too complicated. Instead, Elizabeth had watched, enraptured, as Peter had tried to consume him through his skin with toe-curling skill. To Neal's surprise, Peter is a biter-- but Neal figures he should have expected that. It fits.
"Any reason why they're trying to fence that particular piece right now?"
"It had fallen into private ownership, and someone swiped it. Nothing special," Moz continues in his thoughts, answering distracted. "Wait. Alex would have had to come back here with you. She doesn't stay in one place long. So who else would you come home from with that guilty look?"
Neal glares at him. Guilty? He feels fabulous. Well, he misses them, wishes he could have stayed in bed curled up for the rest of the night, but things such as the tracker have yet to have been worked out. But not guilty. Maybe he feels a little bad about Moz's impending heart attack when he figures out where Neal really was, but not guilty about this evening's activities. Oh no.
Moz freezes, like he finally got an idea. He looks offended and slightly green. "Not Mrs. Suit!" Moz looks absolutely horrified at his own thought, and Neal can't help a little smile. It takes a special woman to get Moz worked up like that, and it seems he and El bonded. He likes the thought of that.
Neal's torn between letting Moz stew and defending Elizabeth's honor. It's Elizabeth, after all, and she's not here to kick Moz's ass herself. He smiles at the image of Elizabeth cutting Moz down to size. It would be wonderfully entertaining.
Moz gasps, eyes wide. "Are you stupid? Do you have a death wish? Not only can The Suit toss you back to the wolves, he just might cut some parts off before he does it just for fun, and he'd actually have the justification!"
Neal sighs. He's pretty sure that if it were up to Peter, he wouldn't toss him back in prison-- instead he'd make it so that Neal could never leave his sight.
Moz continues, seemingly unaware of Neal's reaction. "Although she is a lovely example of the female of the species, despite the naivete and loyalty to The Suit. He doesn't deserve her. But I thought she was happy with her blind loyalty to The Suit and smart enough not to fall for your charms. "
Neal sighs. Moz is one of the only people who knows him well enough to see through most of the bluffs and evasions. He wonders if it's even worth the effort, considering how long it'll take Moz to realize the bluff and/or call him on it.
"She is."
"So?"
"Well..." Neal starts, and Moz looks at him, eyes widening.
"The Suit?" Moz looks incredulous. "The Suit?!?" His voice is starting to rise to dangerous levels of volume and pitch.
"Moz. Moz! Calm. Down."
"I can't calm down. It's The Suit. He works for The Man. He's married. He's The Suit. And, oh yeah, he can throw your stupid ass back in jail and rain a shitstorm of suits and secret surveillance stuff down on us just because he can, and he's determined to carry on the establishment like the rest of them."
"Peter's not--that's not how it works."
"Of course it is! He can just make up something, falsify a few documents, and who are they going to believe? The conman or the shiny, good boy Suit? No contest. They have him under their thumb."
Neal can't help a bit of a smile at that. Leave it to Moz to not object the most that he's in a relationship with a man, or even a married man, but that said man works for 'The Man'.
"And really, you both should be ashamed. Mrs. Suit is a lovely woman, despite a few flaws. She really doesn't deserve The Suit, especially if you two are doing... things I really don't want to know about behind her back."
"About the behind her back part..."
"She knows?" Moz throws his hands up in frustration, and it reminds Neal of Peter. He really shouldn't tell Moz that though.
Moz sits there quietly, and Neal decides to not say anything and let him come to his own conclusions.
Moz looks at him again, and then turns almost green. "Oh my god! What, sex toys were too vanilla for them, and they decided to add a pet convict to the mix?... No, no, no. I don't want to know."
"No! It's just," Neal tries to defend, but he doesn't know what to say. That's probably what it does look like to the rest of the world-- him as the pretty, kept boy or some sort of Stockholm Syndrome on his part.
"You're all crazy. Insane. Not. Normal. Did someone brainwash you all? Are you all some sort of institutional experiment?"
Neal can't quite look him in the eyes. "Look, I'm sorry. I didn't intend for you to find out this way."
"... And that implies an ongoing length of time. I don't want to know." Moz puts his fingers in his ears and starts chanting loudly.
Neal rolls his eyes. "That's not going to change it."
Moz fusses for another moment but then stops, trying to gather himself. Neal kind of doesn't blame him considering the shock, but that's what he gets for nosing around where he doesn't belong. "Look, I don't want to know, ok? I just... I don't want them to be able to throw you back just because you wouldn't blow The Suit whenever he feels like it." Moz shudders.
"It's... It's not like that. Trust me."
"You say that now. I really, really hope I'm not right. I don't want to lose my best partner to a corrupt Suit, consumed by the system he's forced to help. Especially because he has a terrible relationship record and absolutely no sense and clings to antiquated romantic ideals."
"You won't." Neal's happy at this. Moz is still Moz and still his best friend and partner in crime. Annoyed and slightly ruffled, but still there.
Moz stops looking at his hands and looks up at Neal with an evil grin. "She's smoking hot in bed, isn't she?"
"Moz!" It's Neal's turn to be horrified. He just doesn't want to know these things about Moz. It's completely true, and Elizabeth is beautiful and perfect and hot and everything beyond what he could have imagined, but he's not going to encourage any of Moz's little fantasies either. He shudders.
Moz smiles. "Share in the suffering, my friend. I don't actually want to know, but I see that my point was made."
Neal blanches. "Noted. But you jumped to your own conclusions."
"Go take a very long shower. I'm not discussing the embassy plans with you until you do."
"Make us a snack and ready the chessboard," Neal tosses over his shoulder as he heads towards the bedroom.
"What am I, your personal slave?" Moz mutters, getting up and heading toward the kitchen. "Hurry up, but make sure you're clean. Very. Clean." he yells.
"Yeah, yeah," Neal mumbles, already laying out opening attack sequences in his head.
Fin
4/10
Feedback always welcome.
Link to all of my stories
Title: Late Night Revelations
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Moz and Neal have a discussion. Revelations are made.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Property of USA/NBC Universal and Jeff Eastin.
Pairing/Characters: Neal Caffrey, Mozzie Haversham, implied Peter Burke/Neal Caffrey/Elizabeth Burke
A/N: First dip into the White Collar fandom! Hopefully it turned out. It wasn't what I expected for my first piece, but it is what it is. *shrugs*
A/N #2: Thanks to serene_quill for the beta.
Neal stumbles into his apartment well into the wee hours, humming quietly but tunelessly. He's loose limbed, sated, and to anyone who stops to take a second look, clearly well fucked. He can still feel the ghosts of kisses and caresses all over his body. His only, albeit small, regret is not being able to stay the rest of the night, but the tracker is still an albatross he can't shake.
He's still enjoying the buzz tingling through him, the newness and endorphins enough to not care about keeping up appearances this late at night. Even if June was up, he has a feeling that she'd just give him a knowing smile and send him up to his rooms. She's scarily perceptive that way, and would have been a wonder of a con artist herself in the day. Neal wishes he could have seen her in action.
"Someone's trying to fence your Mondrian," comes from the shadows in the vicinity of the couch.
Shit. Of all nights. Internally he cringes, but keeps his expression neutral.
"Oh?" he says, feigning nonchalance. Like he comes home every night in the wee hours, disheveled and clearly well fucked. "Has anyone noticed yet?"
"No. Not yet. And they might not." Moz squints at him, expression turning sour. Double shit.
Neal's careful to not turn on too many lights. "Well, it was one of my better pieces. It'd take someone as good as me to be able to tell it's a fake."
Moz blinks at him. "Is that a hickey?" he asks incredulously.
Neal ignores the comment. "What about the Degas from the same job?"
"No. No movement on any other pieces. Just the Mondrian. And don't try to evade! Tell me it's not Kate."
Neal says nothing.
"No, if it was Kate, you'd be trailing after her like an idiot." Moz sighs. "Alex? At least she's better than Kate. You know, there are plenty of other women ready to fall at your feet everywhere we go. You could just have a nice one night stand and move on like a normal conman, but no, you have to be some tragic romantic." Moz huffs, and Neal rolls his eyes but refuses to respond.
Alex is tempting, beautiful, and occasionally willing, but their history is just too much, too complicated. Instead, Elizabeth had watched, enraptured, as Peter had tried to consume him through his skin with toe-curling skill. To Neal's surprise, Peter is a biter-- but Neal figures he should have expected that. It fits.
"Any reason why they're trying to fence that particular piece right now?"
"It had fallen into private ownership, and someone swiped it. Nothing special," Moz continues in his thoughts, answering distracted. "Wait. Alex would have had to come back here with you. She doesn't stay in one place long. So who else would you come home from with that guilty look?"
Neal glares at him. Guilty? He feels fabulous. Well, he misses them, wishes he could have stayed in bed curled up for the rest of the night, but things such as the tracker have yet to have been worked out. But not guilty. Maybe he feels a little bad about Moz's impending heart attack when he figures out where Neal really was, but not guilty about this evening's activities. Oh no.
Moz freezes, like he finally got an idea. He looks offended and slightly green. "Not Mrs. Suit!" Moz looks absolutely horrified at his own thought, and Neal can't help a little smile. It takes a special woman to get Moz worked up like that, and it seems he and El bonded. He likes the thought of that.
Neal's torn between letting Moz stew and defending Elizabeth's honor. It's Elizabeth, after all, and she's not here to kick Moz's ass herself. He smiles at the image of Elizabeth cutting Moz down to size. It would be wonderfully entertaining.
Moz gasps, eyes wide. "Are you stupid? Do you have a death wish? Not only can The Suit toss you back to the wolves, he just might cut some parts off before he does it just for fun, and he'd actually have the justification!"
Neal sighs. He's pretty sure that if it were up to Peter, he wouldn't toss him back in prison-- instead he'd make it so that Neal could never leave his sight.
Moz continues, seemingly unaware of Neal's reaction. "Although she is a lovely example of the female of the species, despite the naivete and loyalty to The Suit. He doesn't deserve her. But I thought she was happy with her blind loyalty to The Suit and smart enough not to fall for your charms. "
Neal sighs. Moz is one of the only people who knows him well enough to see through most of the bluffs and evasions. He wonders if it's even worth the effort, considering how long it'll take Moz to realize the bluff and/or call him on it.
"She is."
"So?"
"Well..." Neal starts, and Moz looks at him, eyes widening.
"The Suit?" Moz looks incredulous. "The Suit?!?" His voice is starting to rise to dangerous levels of volume and pitch.
"Moz. Moz! Calm. Down."
"I can't calm down. It's The Suit. He works for The Man. He's married. He's The Suit. And, oh yeah, he can throw your stupid ass back in jail and rain a shitstorm of suits and secret surveillance stuff down on us just because he can, and he's determined to carry on the establishment like the rest of them."
"Peter's not--that's not how it works."
"Of course it is! He can just make up something, falsify a few documents, and who are they going to believe? The conman or the shiny, good boy Suit? No contest. They have him under their thumb."
Neal can't help a bit of a smile at that. Leave it to Moz to not object the most that he's in a relationship with a man, or even a married man, but that said man works for 'The Man'.
"And really, you both should be ashamed. Mrs. Suit is a lovely woman, despite a few flaws. She really doesn't deserve The Suit, especially if you two are doing... things I really don't want to know about behind her back."
"About the behind her back part..."
"She knows?" Moz throws his hands up in frustration, and it reminds Neal of Peter. He really shouldn't tell Moz that though.
Moz sits there quietly, and Neal decides to not say anything and let him come to his own conclusions.
Moz looks at him again, and then turns almost green. "Oh my god! What, sex toys were too vanilla for them, and they decided to add a pet convict to the mix?... No, no, no. I don't want to know."
"No! It's just," Neal tries to defend, but he doesn't know what to say. That's probably what it does look like to the rest of the world-- him as the pretty, kept boy or some sort of Stockholm Syndrome on his part.
"You're all crazy. Insane. Not. Normal. Did someone brainwash you all? Are you all some sort of institutional experiment?"
Neal can't quite look him in the eyes. "Look, I'm sorry. I didn't intend for you to find out this way."
"... And that implies an ongoing length of time. I don't want to know." Moz puts his fingers in his ears and starts chanting loudly.
Neal rolls his eyes. "That's not going to change it."
Moz fusses for another moment but then stops, trying to gather himself. Neal kind of doesn't blame him considering the shock, but that's what he gets for nosing around where he doesn't belong. "Look, I don't want to know, ok? I just... I don't want them to be able to throw you back just because you wouldn't blow The Suit whenever he feels like it." Moz shudders.
"It's... It's not like that. Trust me."
"You say that now. I really, really hope I'm not right. I don't want to lose my best partner to a corrupt Suit, consumed by the system he's forced to help. Especially because he has a terrible relationship record and absolutely no sense and clings to antiquated romantic ideals."
"You won't." Neal's happy at this. Moz is still Moz and still his best friend and partner in crime. Annoyed and slightly ruffled, but still there.
Moz stops looking at his hands and looks up at Neal with an evil grin. "She's smoking hot in bed, isn't she?"
"Moz!" It's Neal's turn to be horrified. He just doesn't want to know these things about Moz. It's completely true, and Elizabeth is beautiful and perfect and hot and everything beyond what he could have imagined, but he's not going to encourage any of Moz's little fantasies either. He shudders.
Moz smiles. "Share in the suffering, my friend. I don't actually want to know, but I see that my point was made."
Neal blanches. "Noted. But you jumped to your own conclusions."
"Go take a very long shower. I'm not discussing the embassy plans with you until you do."
"Make us a snack and ready the chessboard," Neal tosses over his shoulder as he heads towards the bedroom.
"What am I, your personal slave?" Moz mutters, getting up and heading toward the kitchen. "Hurry up, but make sure you're clean. Very. Clean." he yells.
"Yeah, yeah," Neal mumbles, already laying out opening attack sequences in his head.
Fin
4/10
Feedback always welcome.
Link to all of my stories