White Collar - The Math and Here Kitty, Kitty
Title: The Math and Here Kitty, Kitty
Rating: PG, G, both are gen
Characters: Peter, Neal
Warnings: little bit of language in first story.
Summary: Peter can do the math. A "five things" story plus bonus fic with a kitten. I was having a very productive day, got quite a bit done, and wrote this as a reward. Though edited like crazy, this story hasn't been beta'd. But I emphasize the "edited like crazy" part.
The Math
1. Heart - Neal is a sucker for anything four legged and furry. Peter has seen Mr. “High-end antique furniture that is not to be abused” sitting on the edge of his “high-end antique” bed pouring over files with Bugsy sitting next to him, seen him slip scraps and treats to Satchmo whenever he thought Peter and El weren't looking. If Peter allows him to take a walk outside the office or during a stakeout, there's a good chance Neal will come back with a homeless puppy or kitten to be dropped off at the humane society (since Neal's life isn't conducive to pet owning). But Peter's complaints are half-hearted, figuring the guy is simply making up for being deprived of the joy that is all things four legged and furry. Or Neal's just a sucker for a hard luck case.
2. Mind - When Neal sleeps, a really good deep sleep that's hard to wake him up from, he keeps his fist tucked close to his mouth. Not thumb sucking, but something close. Peter sees Neal do it every time he catches Neal asleep at his desk, but it had never registered as a sleeping habit until Peter was forced to crash Neal's place after the motel dog had chased him out. He'd been up before Neal, watching the rarity that was Neal still and quiet. And the fist, curled up tight against his mouth, like he was holding onto something that was no longer there, and that his fingers didn't know how to let go of.
3. Body - To annoy Neal, waste food. He can't stand it. It would be funny, all the chiding and guilt-tripping remarks about third world kids who would love what Peter was throwing out. Funny, except when Neal asks “Are you gonna eat that?” about a soggy corner of bread or half-bitten pickle slice, then eats it before Peter can answer.
4. Soul - Speaking of food... Neal is surprisingly not all that high-maintenance when it comes to his palate. He'll bitch and moan about whatever cheap fast food burger Peter dumps in front of him if they're on a long stakeout (the cheaper, the bitchier), but Neal does eventually eat it. Peter chalks it up to Neal's loathing toward wasting food, because Neal eats every bite right down to the last burnt French fry. But Peter's not always sure. Sometimes Neal looks disgusted (and Peter can't blame him) and sometimes he looks nervous as if eating cheap scares him.
5. Neal - Peter can do the math. For all his curiosity about the man behind the charm and lies, Peter doesn't mind not knowing. Doesn't mind that he may never know since he knows Neal will never tell. And that's okay. Deep down, Peter doesn't want to know. He doesn't need to know.
He can do the math.
The End
Bonus ficlet - Here Kitty, Kitty
“Neal.”
“Peter.”
“What's under your coat?”
“My body?”
“Neal.”
Neal rolled his eyes. He loosened his hold on his coat just enough for a small, dirty orange head to pop out and mew piteously. Jones snickered. Diana about melted into a puddle of cooing goo.
“Put it back,”
Neal pulled away in mock horror, pressing his hands over the kitten's ears. “Peter. I'm not putting her back in that puddle.”
Diana glared at Peter. Lovely. Neal had finally turned one of his people.
“Come on, let him keep it,” Jones said.
Make that all of his people.
The kitten mewed and blinked dark, dewy, button eyes at Peter. It then climbed up Neal's collar, cuddling up against his neck, head-butting his jaw. Diana finally broke and gathered the kitten so it could do the same to her. She then passed it on to Jones.
Peter sighed. “Fine. It can stay. For now. But you know you can't keep it, Neal.”
For a heart-beat moment, Neal's smile faltered. “I know, Peter.”
And that made Peter heave another sigh. “Our neighbors have a little girl that's been wanting a kitten.”
The smile returned, brighter than ever. “Can I--”
“You can visit.”
“Knew you were a softy, Peter.”
“Shut up.”
The End
Rating: PG, G, both are gen
Characters: Peter, Neal
Warnings: little bit of language in first story.
Summary: Peter can do the math. A "five things" story plus bonus fic with a kitten. I was having a very productive day, got quite a bit done, and wrote this as a reward. Though edited like crazy, this story hasn't been beta'd. But I emphasize the "edited like crazy" part.
The Math
1. Heart - Neal is a sucker for anything four legged and furry. Peter has seen Mr. “High-end antique furniture that is not to be abused” sitting on the edge of his “high-end antique” bed pouring over files with Bugsy sitting next to him, seen him slip scraps and treats to Satchmo whenever he thought Peter and El weren't looking. If Peter allows him to take a walk outside the office or during a stakeout, there's a good chance Neal will come back with a homeless puppy or kitten to be dropped off at the humane society (since Neal's life isn't conducive to pet owning). But Peter's complaints are half-hearted, figuring the guy is simply making up for being deprived of the joy that is all things four legged and furry. Or Neal's just a sucker for a hard luck case.
2. Mind - When Neal sleeps, a really good deep sleep that's hard to wake him up from, he keeps his fist tucked close to his mouth. Not thumb sucking, but something close. Peter sees Neal do it every time he catches Neal asleep at his desk, but it had never registered as a sleeping habit until Peter was forced to crash Neal's place after the motel dog had chased him out. He'd been up before Neal, watching the rarity that was Neal still and quiet. And the fist, curled up tight against his mouth, like he was holding onto something that was no longer there, and that his fingers didn't know how to let go of.
3. Body - To annoy Neal, waste food. He can't stand it. It would be funny, all the chiding and guilt-tripping remarks about third world kids who would love what Peter was throwing out. Funny, except when Neal asks “Are you gonna eat that?” about a soggy corner of bread or half-bitten pickle slice, then eats it before Peter can answer.
4. Soul - Speaking of food... Neal is surprisingly not all that high-maintenance when it comes to his palate. He'll bitch and moan about whatever cheap fast food burger Peter dumps in front of him if they're on a long stakeout (the cheaper, the bitchier), but Neal does eventually eat it. Peter chalks it up to Neal's loathing toward wasting food, because Neal eats every bite right down to the last burnt French fry. But Peter's not always sure. Sometimes Neal looks disgusted (and Peter can't blame him) and sometimes he looks nervous as if eating cheap scares him.
5. Neal - Peter can do the math. For all his curiosity about the man behind the charm and lies, Peter doesn't mind not knowing. Doesn't mind that he may never know since he knows Neal will never tell. And that's okay. Deep down, Peter doesn't want to know. He doesn't need to know.
He can do the math.
The End
Bonus ficlet - Here Kitty, Kitty
“Neal.”
“Peter.”
“What's under your coat?”
“My body?”
“Neal.”
Neal rolled his eyes. He loosened his hold on his coat just enough for a small, dirty orange head to pop out and mew piteously. Jones snickered. Diana about melted into a puddle of cooing goo.
“Put it back,”
Neal pulled away in mock horror, pressing his hands over the kitten's ears. “Peter. I'm not putting her back in that puddle.”
Diana glared at Peter. Lovely. Neal had finally turned one of his people.
“Come on, let him keep it,” Jones said.
Make that all of his people.
The kitten mewed and blinked dark, dewy, button eyes at Peter. It then climbed up Neal's collar, cuddling up against his neck, head-butting his jaw. Diana finally broke and gathered the kitten so it could do the same to her. She then passed it on to Jones.
Peter sighed. “Fine. It can stay. For now. But you know you can't keep it, Neal.”
For a heart-beat moment, Neal's smile faltered. “I know, Peter.”
And that made Peter heave another sigh. “Our neighbors have a little girl that's been wanting a kitten.”
The smile returned, brighter than ever. “Can I--”
“You can visit.”
“Knew you were a softy, Peter.”
“Shut up.”
The End