Fic: First Impressions
Title: First Impressions
Author: reve_silencieux
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairings: Neal, Mozzie, OFC (Neal/Sara)
Spoilers: 2x5 Unfinished Business, 3x3 Deadline
Word Count: 150 x 2
Summary: Neal needs to make a good first impression, which is hard given his past, right?
Author's Notes: My first attempt at drabbles. Only I couldn't manage 100 words. So 150 will have to do, and maybe one day I'll get better at it. Or maybe my ideas will just be shorter. I also want to thank qwertyfaced for the inspiration, however unintentional it was.
Mozzie stopped in his tracks.
“That’s the lamest hiding place ever, mon frère. The feds will find it in five seconds flat.”
“I’m not hiding anything, Moz,” Neal replied, standing on a chair in front of the bookshelf, juggling a stack of books.
“Then dare say, what are you doing?”
“Cleaning.”
Mozzie blinked and looked around the nearly spotless loft. “Your place already looks like it belongs on the cover of a magazine. What gives?”
Neal stepped down. “Sara’s grandmother is visiting.”
“As if she’d stop you from marrying Sara because your place is dirty.”
“No, but she’s the only family Sara has left. I have to make a good impression. It’s bad enough Sara has to tell her about my past.”
Mozzie raised an eyebrow. “She doesn’t know anything?”
“Nothing.”
“Have you cleaned behind the stove? That’s one of the dirtiest places in the home. Germs just breed there.”
*~*~*
Her steel gray hair was twisted tightly at the nape of her neck, and her deep green eyes peered into his, clearly not to be intimidated.
“Do you work with the FBI as well?”
Mozzie sputtered. “What? Work with those tyranical, brainwashing suits? Never.”
A carefully manicured eyebrow rose.
“What do you do, then?”
He held his head high and said, “I work to fight the injustice and inequality of the social hierarchy-”
“Thief.”
“I prefer to think of myself as one who redistributes the riches of society with those less fortunate.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Excuses.”
Mozzie gulped and took off his glasses, cleaning them frantically with his shirt.
She turned. “Neal, darling, I heard you make the best risotto.”
Neal stepped forward and grinned. “I bought some truffle gouda just for the occasion.”
“Wonderful. I'd also like some wine, if that too hasn't been misappropriated by your friend here.”
Author: reve_silencieux
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairings: Neal, Mozzie, OFC (Neal/Sara)
Spoilers: 2x5 Unfinished Business, 3x3 Deadline
Word Count: 150 x 2
Summary: Neal needs to make a good first impression, which is hard given his past, right?
Author's Notes: My first attempt at drabbles. Only I couldn't manage 100 words. So 150 will have to do, and maybe one day I'll get better at it. Or maybe my ideas will just be shorter. I also want to thank qwertyfaced for the inspiration, however unintentional it was.
Mozzie stopped in his tracks.
“That’s the lamest hiding place ever, mon frère. The feds will find it in five seconds flat.”
“I’m not hiding anything, Moz,” Neal replied, standing on a chair in front of the bookshelf, juggling a stack of books.
“Then dare say, what are you doing?”
“Cleaning.”
Mozzie blinked and looked around the nearly spotless loft. “Your place already looks like it belongs on the cover of a magazine. What gives?”
Neal stepped down. “Sara’s grandmother is visiting.”
“As if she’d stop you from marrying Sara because your place is dirty.”
“No, but she’s the only family Sara has left. I have to make a good impression. It’s bad enough Sara has to tell her about my past.”
Mozzie raised an eyebrow. “She doesn’t know anything?”
“Nothing.”
“Have you cleaned behind the stove? That’s one of the dirtiest places in the home. Germs just breed there.”
*~*~*
Her steel gray hair was twisted tightly at the nape of her neck, and her deep green eyes peered into his, clearly not to be intimidated.
“Do you work with the FBI as well?”
Mozzie sputtered. “What? Work with those tyranical, brainwashing suits? Never.”
A carefully manicured eyebrow rose.
“What do you do, then?”
He held his head high and said, “I work to fight the injustice and inequality of the social hierarchy-”
“Thief.”
“I prefer to think of myself as one who redistributes the riches of society with those less fortunate.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Excuses.”
Mozzie gulped and took off his glasses, cleaning them frantically with his shirt.
She turned. “Neal, darling, I heard you make the best risotto.”
Neal stepped forward and grinned. “I bought some truffle gouda just for the occasion.”
“Wonderful. I'd also like some wine, if that too hasn't been misappropriated by your friend here.”