Drabble: Bold as Brass (ADAD #26)
Title: Bold as Brass
Author: QWERTYfaced
Fandom: White Collar
Wordcount: 200
Rating: G
Characters: Neal Caffrey, Clinton Jones
Genre: Drabble, gen, humor
Notes: For my A Drabble A Day personal challenge, and whitecollar100's Challenge 79 - Fresh. Thanks, reve_silencieux! :P
Summary: It's Neal's turn for a rude awakening. (Part 6 of A Battle of Wits.)
Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction. All characters and settings belong to their respective copyright holders, not me. Which is why I don't have a table tennis coach yet.
Dawn broke gently over June's mansion, painting the sky a fresh and ethereal blue, veiled with fragile wisps of cloud. The quiet whir of early traffic filtered up to the loft.
It was just loud enough to cover the all-but-noiseless progress of the man stealing softly into Neal's apartment.
Neal lay asleep, blissfully unaware of his approaching doom. The intruder stood over him, smiling with horrible glee, then raised his weapon.
The next moment, the morning peace was irretrievably shattered. Neal shot up in bed, flailing frantically.
He clapped his hands over his ears, glaring hectically at the intruder with none of his usual poise.
"BUGLES?!" he shouted, over the deafening blare of 'Reveille.'
Jones removed the instrument from his lips and grinned at him. Behind him, June stood in the doorway to the apartment, quivering with laughter. For the first time, Neal realized there were downsides to her famous sense of fun.
"Can't Peter do his own dirty work?" Neal demanded, shaken and decidedly annoyed. "Why are you doing it for him?"
"Peter wasn't in the Drum and Bugle Corps at Annapolis," Jones said, chuckling. "And I was just following orders."
"That's what people who commit atrocities always say."
Author: QWERTYfaced
Fandom: White Collar
Wordcount: 200
Rating: G
Characters: Neal Caffrey, Clinton Jones
Genre: Drabble, gen, humor
Notes: For my A Drabble A Day personal challenge, and whitecollar100's Challenge 79 - Fresh. Thanks, reve_silencieux! :P
Summary: It's Neal's turn for a rude awakening. (Part 6 of A Battle of Wits.)
Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction. All characters and settings belong to their respective copyright holders, not me. Which is why I don't have a table tennis coach yet.
Dawn broke gently over June's mansion, painting the sky a fresh and ethereal blue, veiled with fragile wisps of cloud. The quiet whir of early traffic filtered up to the loft.
It was just loud enough to cover the all-but-noiseless progress of the man stealing softly into Neal's apartment.
Neal lay asleep, blissfully unaware of his approaching doom. The intruder stood over him, smiling with horrible glee, then raised his weapon.
The next moment, the morning peace was irretrievably shattered. Neal shot up in bed, flailing frantically.
He clapped his hands over his ears, glaring hectically at the intruder with none of his usual poise.
"BUGLES?!" he shouted, over the deafening blare of 'Reveille.'
Jones removed the instrument from his lips and grinned at him. Behind him, June stood in the doorway to the apartment, quivering with laughter. For the first time, Neal realized there were downsides to her famous sense of fun.
"Can't Peter do his own dirty work?" Neal demanded, shaken and decidedly annoyed. "Why are you doing it for him?"
"Peter wasn't in the Drum and Bugle Corps at Annapolis," Jones said, chuckling. "And I was just following orders."
"That's what people who commit atrocities always say."