[Fanfiction] Two Days at the Museums
Title: Two Days at the Museums
Author: Aragarna
Characters: Peter Burke, Neal Caffrey
Genre, rating: post-series fluffy fluff of gen nature. general audience.
Word count: 1150
Beta: many thanks to the awesome anodyneer!!
Summary: While in Paris, Peter and Neal visit museums. It turns out they have very different tastes in the matter.
Author's Note: this fic is a belated birthday gift for my dear friend maryrose_it, and is also for my buddy kanarek13, who accidently prompted me, and who also made the super cool art to go with it. Check it out! More notes at the end.
Two Days at the Museums
“Peter, where are you going? It’s this way,” Neal called, obviously annoyed.
Peter turned around and walked back to follow Neal into the other aisle. “It doesn’t matter!”
They had been walking down endless corridors in the museum of Le Louvres for hours, and Peter was really starting to feel that the jetlag was getting the best of him - and his patience.
“Of course, it does, there’s a chronological order,” Neal said brandishing the floor map. “You need to follow the right order.”
“Like it’s a treasure hunt or something?” Peter replied sarcastically.
“You can be such a downer…”
“We’ve been exploring this place for hours. I think I have my dose of French culture for the day.”
“And yet you can spend an entire day looking at bank records without even a bathroom break.”
“That’s mortgage fraud, that’s different.”
“Right.”
Peter shrugged and walked to the next room. “Ugh, what’s that? Is that… a dead guy?! They painted the guy, dead, in his tub. How lovely. I can just picture it above the mantel in my living room.”
“That’s Marat Assassiné, yes. He was a very famous revolutionary. He was assassinated -“
“Let me guess, in his tub?”
“But, Peter, it’s like a crime scene!”
“It’s a dead body. You can’t stand a dead body on an actual crime scene, but suddenly it’s a painting, and you get excited.”
“And you’re not. Sometimes, I honestly wonder why you chose White Collar, of all divisions at the FBI,” Neal sulked.
Peter turned to face him, a cocky smile on his lips. “But for the pleasure of catching you, of course.”
Neal ignored him and turned to face another painting. Peter peeked over his shoulder. The painting represented a large cup filled with fruits, with some dead pheasant next to it. Nature Morte, said the label. Peter rolled his eyes. What was it with all those paintings of fruits and food, seriously? And it was making him hungry.
“Neal? Could we go get ice cream?”
“Ice cream? Aren’t you a little too old to demand ice cream?”
Peter shrugged. “I don’t know, my mom used to take me for an ice cream after we’d go to a museum or something as a kid, and it stuck with me.”
---------------------------------------
They rushed through the door and both ruffled their wet hair as they shook out of their coats.
Peter grabbed a beer from the fridge and, at last, allow himself to crash on the couch.
“Good thing is, I’m so exhausted that I shouldn’t have too much trouble sleeping tonight.”
“I was hoping maybe…” Neal started.
But Peter stopped him. “Nope, not going anywhere. I’m staying right here.”
Peter reached for the remote and switched on the TV.
Neal shook his head. “No baseball on French TV.”
Peter grumbled and turned off the screen.
“At least, you’ll let me make you some nice dinner?” Neal offered.
Peter looked up at Neal and shot him an apologetic smile. “Homemade dinner sounds great.”
“I’m sorry the weather is so awful, Peter. I wish we could do more things outside, but with all that rain, museums are the best option to make the most of your time here.”
“I suppose you’re right,” Peter admitted. “I did like Orsay. Degas, Matisse, Monet, all your favorites, right?” he added with a wink. “But Le Louvre was just too much. And Mona Lisa was a bit disappointing. I don’t get it. Everyone is piling up to get a glimpse at her, meanwhile there’s this giant painting on the opposite wall - the one with the banquet - and it’s totally ignored.”
“It’s Wedding at Cana, by Veronese,” Neal said. “It’s actually a milestone of Renaissance. Veronese was one of the first painters to accurately render perspective.”
“Right.”
To Peter, it looked mostly like a giant painting full of people and colors, and a lot more work than the tiny Joconde. Not that he wouldn’t recognize the obvious talent of both Veronese and Da Vinci, but not today. Today he was too jetlagged.
“And I don’t suppose the weather is gonna be any better tomorrow?”
“I’m afraid not.”
Peter pondered things for a minute. “Okay then. But tomorrow, I’m picking the museum,” he announced, as he reached for Neal’s laptop and started browsing the web.
---------------------------------------
“Peter?”
“Just a minute!”
Neal sighed and walked back to Peter, trying to see what weird old antique was fascinating his friend this time. Peter was carefully reading the label next to a strangely shaped scale with two copper tanks attached. Neal was only moderately impressed. Peter, on the contrary, wouldn’t have been more enthusiastic if he had found the Holy Grail.
“Neal!” Peter perked. “Look at that! It’s the instrument that Lavoisier used to make water from oxygen and hydrogen! Isn’t that awesome?”
Neal shrugged. What was the point of making water anyway?
“Come on, Peter, let’s move along, the museum is closing soon and we still haven’t been to the lower level.”
“Oh right, let’s go. I want to see the transportation section. They have this full size replica of an old aeroplane. And I don’t want to miss the demonstration about the Earth spinning!”
Neal wondered how in the world Peter had managed to con him into going to the Arts et Métiers Museum. Neal had thought that it was a strange choice, but as long as there were some art, he was all for it. Except the Museum’s definition of Arts sure wasn’t his. This was all about old instruments, from the most ancient ruler, to the first astrolabe. There were a couple valuable pieces, like that old Chinese abacus in Jade, but most of this was obsolete, and symbolic at best. Sure, Neal found it fun at first, but that was two hours ago.
Luckily, the demonstration was about to start, and they went back to the first floor.
The installation, imagined by French physicist Léon Foucault in the middle of the 19th century, was pretty simple. A pendulum was attached to the high roof of the former chapel turned into an aisle of the Museum, and dominos were set in circles on a table below it. The host in charge of the demonstration set the pendulum in motion. It hit the first domino, and before their amazed eyes, after a few swings back and forth, it appeared obvious the pendulum was getting closer to the second domino, until it hit it too.
Neal glanced sideways at Peter who was totally absorbed in the demonstration, a fascinated smile plastered on his face. When the next domino fell, as the pendulum - or rather, Earth - continued its rotation, Peter’s eyes sparkled.
Neal couldn’t help but smile at his friend’s child-like enthusiasm. Peter looked so much like a 10-years-old that Neal wasn’t even really surprised when, once the demonstration was over, Peter asked, “can we go get an ice cream now?’
FIN.
Additional notes: Everything depicted here is accurate, from my own memories of those two museums as well as old History classes for the short background on those art pieces. This is Marat Assassiné, The Wedding at Cana at le Louvre, Lavoisier's gazometer, and Foucault's pendulum at the musée des Arts et Métiers.
Author: Aragarna
Characters: Peter Burke, Neal Caffrey
Genre, rating: post-series fluffy fluff of gen nature. general audience.
Word count: 1150
Beta: many thanks to the awesome anodyneer!!
Summary: While in Paris, Peter and Neal visit museums. It turns out they have very different tastes in the matter.
Author's Note: this fic is a belated birthday gift for my dear friend maryrose_it, and is also for my buddy kanarek13, who accidently prompted me, and who also made the super cool art to go with it. Check it out! More notes at the end.
Two Days at the Museums
“Peter, where are you going? It’s this way,” Neal called, obviously annoyed.
Peter turned around and walked back to follow Neal into the other aisle. “It doesn’t matter!”
They had been walking down endless corridors in the museum of Le Louvres for hours, and Peter was really starting to feel that the jetlag was getting the best of him - and his patience.
“Of course, it does, there’s a chronological order,” Neal said brandishing the floor map. “You need to follow the right order.”
“Like it’s a treasure hunt or something?” Peter replied sarcastically.
“You can be such a downer…”
“We’ve been exploring this place for hours. I think I have my dose of French culture for the day.”
“And yet you can spend an entire day looking at bank records without even a bathroom break.”
“That’s mortgage fraud, that’s different.”
“Right.”
Peter shrugged and walked to the next room. “Ugh, what’s that? Is that… a dead guy?! They painted the guy, dead, in his tub. How lovely. I can just picture it above the mantel in my living room.”
“That’s Marat Assassiné, yes. He was a very famous revolutionary. He was assassinated -“
“Let me guess, in his tub?”
“But, Peter, it’s like a crime scene!”
“It’s a dead body. You can’t stand a dead body on an actual crime scene, but suddenly it’s a painting, and you get excited.”
“And you’re not. Sometimes, I honestly wonder why you chose White Collar, of all divisions at the FBI,” Neal sulked.
Peter turned to face him, a cocky smile on his lips. “But for the pleasure of catching you, of course.”
Neal ignored him and turned to face another painting. Peter peeked over his shoulder. The painting represented a large cup filled with fruits, with some dead pheasant next to it. Nature Morte, said the label. Peter rolled his eyes. What was it with all those paintings of fruits and food, seriously? And it was making him hungry.
“Neal? Could we go get ice cream?”
“Ice cream? Aren’t you a little too old to demand ice cream?”
Peter shrugged. “I don’t know, my mom used to take me for an ice cream after we’d go to a museum or something as a kid, and it stuck with me.”
---------------------------------------
They rushed through the door and both ruffled their wet hair as they shook out of their coats.
Peter grabbed a beer from the fridge and, at last, allow himself to crash on the couch.
“Good thing is, I’m so exhausted that I shouldn’t have too much trouble sleeping tonight.”
“I was hoping maybe…” Neal started.
But Peter stopped him. “Nope, not going anywhere. I’m staying right here.”
Peter reached for the remote and switched on the TV.
Neal shook his head. “No baseball on French TV.”
Peter grumbled and turned off the screen.
“At least, you’ll let me make you some nice dinner?” Neal offered.
Peter looked up at Neal and shot him an apologetic smile. “Homemade dinner sounds great.”
“I’m sorry the weather is so awful, Peter. I wish we could do more things outside, but with all that rain, museums are the best option to make the most of your time here.”
“I suppose you’re right,” Peter admitted. “I did like Orsay. Degas, Matisse, Monet, all your favorites, right?” he added with a wink. “But Le Louvre was just too much. And Mona Lisa was a bit disappointing. I don’t get it. Everyone is piling up to get a glimpse at her, meanwhile there’s this giant painting on the opposite wall - the one with the banquet - and it’s totally ignored.”
“It’s Wedding at Cana, by Veronese,” Neal said. “It’s actually a milestone of Renaissance. Veronese was one of the first painters to accurately render perspective.”
“Right.”
To Peter, it looked mostly like a giant painting full of people and colors, and a lot more work than the tiny Joconde. Not that he wouldn’t recognize the obvious talent of both Veronese and Da Vinci, but not today. Today he was too jetlagged.
“And I don’t suppose the weather is gonna be any better tomorrow?”
“I’m afraid not.”
Peter pondered things for a minute. “Okay then. But tomorrow, I’m picking the museum,” he announced, as he reached for Neal’s laptop and started browsing the web.
---------------------------------------
“Peter?”
“Just a minute!”
Neal sighed and walked back to Peter, trying to see what weird old antique was fascinating his friend this time. Peter was carefully reading the label next to a strangely shaped scale with two copper tanks attached. Neal was only moderately impressed. Peter, on the contrary, wouldn’t have been more enthusiastic if he had found the Holy Grail.
“Neal!” Peter perked. “Look at that! It’s the instrument that Lavoisier used to make water from oxygen and hydrogen! Isn’t that awesome?”
Neal shrugged. What was the point of making water anyway?
“Come on, Peter, let’s move along, the museum is closing soon and we still haven’t been to the lower level.”
“Oh right, let’s go. I want to see the transportation section. They have this full size replica of an old aeroplane. And I don’t want to miss the demonstration about the Earth spinning!”
Neal wondered how in the world Peter had managed to con him into going to the Arts et Métiers Museum. Neal had thought that it was a strange choice, but as long as there were some art, he was all for it. Except the Museum’s definition of Arts sure wasn’t his. This was all about old instruments, from the most ancient ruler, to the first astrolabe. There were a couple valuable pieces, like that old Chinese abacus in Jade, but most of this was obsolete, and symbolic at best. Sure, Neal found it fun at first, but that was two hours ago.
Luckily, the demonstration was about to start, and they went back to the first floor.
The installation, imagined by French physicist Léon Foucault in the middle of the 19th century, was pretty simple. A pendulum was attached to the high roof of the former chapel turned into an aisle of the Museum, and dominos were set in circles on a table below it. The host in charge of the demonstration set the pendulum in motion. It hit the first domino, and before their amazed eyes, after a few swings back and forth, it appeared obvious the pendulum was getting closer to the second domino, until it hit it too.
Neal glanced sideways at Peter who was totally absorbed in the demonstration, a fascinated smile plastered on his face. When the next domino fell, as the pendulum - or rather, Earth - continued its rotation, Peter’s eyes sparkled.
Neal couldn’t help but smile at his friend’s child-like enthusiasm. Peter looked so much like a 10-years-old that Neal wasn’t even really surprised when, once the demonstration was over, Peter asked, “can we go get an ice cream now?’
FIN.
Additional notes: Everything depicted here is accurate, from my own memories of those two museums as well as old History classes for the short background on those art pieces. This is Marat Assassiné, The Wedding at Cana at le Louvre, Lavoisier's gazometer, and Foucault's pendulum at the musée des Arts et Métiers.
