Ficlet Meme - Prompt away!
Aug. 11th, 2011 10:41 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tj_teejayOkay, so ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
rabidchild67 made me do it. She wrote me a ficlet, and now I'm gonna repost the meme, because that's what the rules state:
The first five people to comment on this post get to request that I write a ficlet of any pairing/character of their choosing. In return, they have to post this in their journal, regardless of their ability level.
Fandoms: White Collar, mainly. I might be inclined to try out The Glades or Being Human (US) too.
Genre: Gen only, please. For The Glades het is okay too, but I'm not into graphic nookie.
Ready, set... GO!
Current status:
Slots taken: 5
Slots available: 0
(Sorry, you missed your chance.)
rabidchild67 made me do it. She wrote me a ficlet, and now I'm gonna repost the meme, because that's what the rules state:The first five people to comment on this post get to request that I write a ficlet of any pairing/character of their choosing. In return, they have to post this in their journal, regardless of their ability level.
Fandoms: White Collar, mainly. I might be inclined to try out The Glades or Being Human (US) too.
Genre: Gen only, please. For The Glades het is okay too, but I'm not into graphic nookie.
Ready, set... GO!
Current status:
Slots taken: 5
Slots available: 0
(Sorry, you missed your chance.)
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2011-08-12 03:41 am (UTC)FILL: Date Night
Date: 2011-08-12 06:20 am (UTC)Diana took off the headphones and placed them next to the computer screen. She got up and started to gather her things.
Jones grumbled something under his breath, which made Diana turn around to face him. "What was that?"
Jones looked up at her, an innocent expression on his face. "What? Nothing."
She smiled a knowing, almost gloating smile at him. "You're miffed because I'm leaving and you're staying."
"So what if I am?"
"Come on, you owe me one. Remember when your girlfriend turned up? I offered to stay so you could leave."
"Yeah, but that was after how many hours in the van? We've only been here, what? An hour?"
This was when Peter swiveled his chair around. "Now, now, kids, play nice."
Jones had a moping expression on his face. "Why does she get to leave and I get to stay?"
An almost wistful smile played at Peter's lips. "Because she's got a date and you don't."
"Oh, a date, huh? I thought you were in a long-term relationship."
"I am."
"And you're dating someone else?"
"What? No, I'm dating Christie."
"You go on dates with your girlfriend of six years?"
Diana's look at Jones spelled incomprehension. "Of course I do."
Jones looked questioningly at Peter, who just shrugged his shoulders. "Is that what women do?"
Diana gave Jones an incredulous glance. "Do men not do that?"
Now Jones looked sheepish. "I don't know. I've never been in a long-term relationship with a man."
Diana stuck her tongue out at him. "Okay, I'm not gonna grace that with a response. I am going to be late for my date." She pretended to tip the flap of an invisible hat. "I bid you a fond farewell. Enjoy your tuna sandwiches."
Peter lifted a package wrapped in paper. "Deviled ham."
"Just as smelly."
"Yeah, yeah," he said in a mock grumble. "Get outta here."
"Gladly," she smiled, then left.
Jones turned to Peter. "Do you still go on dates with your wife?"
Peter pursed his lips in an amused grin. "I do."
Jones just groaned. "I seriously need to brush up on my dating skills."
FILL: Those Things Are Called Kittens (part 1)
Date: 2011-08-12 09:04 am (UTC)Every so often, Neal would come to the Burkes' home, and there'd be a smile on the conman's face when the sandy-furred dog trotted up to him to greet him with a wagging tail. Or Neal would sit on the couch and not even complain as a bit of a drool dripped onto his expensive suit pants from Satchmo's flew as he caressed the soft skin behind the dog's ears. Yes, Neal was definitely a dog person.
Now Peter thought Neal might actually be an animal person. Because the picture that presented itself to Peter was, well... downright adorable.
They were staking out a minor player in what they believed to be a grand scale art smuggling operation. It just so happened that the guy was staying in a hotel that was opposite an abandoned office building. The FBI had taken up residence in said office building with a clear view of the suspect's room.
It was Peter and Neal's shift, and Peter had left on a bio break fifteen minutes ago. Shortly thereafter he'd had to take a phone call that had waylaid him. When he got back to the large, empty space that was only occupied with left-behind office furniture junk, Neal was lounging in the cheap chair with two red tabby kittens in his lap.
He turned his head at Peter, putting a finger to his lips, effectively shushing the words that Peter had at the tip of his tongue. "They just fell asleep," Neal whispered.
Peter went up to Neal to quietly take a seat in the chair next to him, his eyes trained on the little cats that looked like they might be two months old, maybe three. "Do I wanna know where those came from?"
Neal just shrugged. "Guess they live here."
"And they happened to crawl into your lap?"
"Well, they may have had some help..."
Peter couldn't help but smile, but the smile vanished soon thereafter as his gaze fell on the building across the street. "Please tell me you didn't spend your time fussing over kittens rather than watch our suspect."
"Relax, Peter. Brock is still in his hotel room. From what I can tell, he's been getting it on with a none too pretty blonde. Believe me, the sight of this furry pair was much preferable to the sight through those windows."
Peter looked through the binoculars, then drew a face. Neal was right. That was nasty. His gaze fell back on the bundle of fur in Neal's lap where Neal's finger stroked the animals with a gentleness he rarely saw from Neal.
"Those things could be flea infested."
"Those things are called kittens, and I don't think they are. I checked."
"You checked? How? Do you happen to have a flea comb on you?"
"No, but you can see them if you look closely, especially in the fur around the eyes and mouth. It's easier to spot them in light-furred cats."
Peter drew an impressed face. "You seem to know a lot about cats."
"I've been with a vet's assistant once. She had six cats. You pick up things."
"Heh."
FILL: Those Things Are Called Kittens (part 2)
Date: 2011-08-12 09:04 am (UTC)Neal's low voice broke the silence after a while. "Do you think they get enough food?"
"Who? Brock and his prostitute?"
"No, Peter. These little buggers." He nodded at his lap.
"I don't know," Peter said in a tone that clearly indicated he couldn't care less.
"What if they don't?"
"Neal..." Peter said exasperatedly. He had an idea where this might be going. "You can't start feeding these cats. Or take them home with you."
"And why not?"
"Why not? Because they don't belong to you!"
"They don't belong to anyone. They're strays."
"And how would June feel about a pair of kittens in your apartment, peeing on the expensive rugs, digging their claws into her English oak bed?"
"Tiger oak."
"Whatever."
Neal pondered that for a moment. "Okay, you might have a point."
"Thank you."
"Still, I'd hate to have to leave these two rascals to fend for themselves."
"Neal, you can't save every stray kitten in the city."
"No, but I can save these two."
"Why?"
"Peter, I don't understand how you can be so heartless. You have a dog. Would you have left Satchmo behind if you'd found him as a puppy in an abandoned building?"
"That's different," Peter protested.
"How is it different?"
"Satchmo's a dog!"
"What, and cats aren't living creatures and don't deserve a loving home?"
Peter let out a frustrated sigh. "That's not what I meant." He leaned back in his chair, which caused the backrest to creak.
One of the kittens stirred in Neal's lap, lifting its head, and Neal protested, "Now look what you've done."
"All right," Peter finally acquiesced. "There's an animal shelter on Centre Street. We can drop by there on the way to the office."
A small smile played at Neal's lips. "Thank you."
"Yeah, yeah," Peter dismissed him, taking up the binoculars again to peer into the hotel window at their suspect.
"It's not in my radius, is it?"
"No, Neal, it's not in your radius."
"Shame."
Re: FILL: Date Night
Date: 2011-08-12 01:31 pm (UTC)So glad you liked this.
no subject
Date: 2011-08-12 05:15 pm (UTC)Something that completely throws Neal off his game. Maybe someone he's trying to con deadpans him? Light/humorous please; that's why I desperatly need.
no subject
Date: 2011-08-12 05:38 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-08-12 06:44 pm (UTC)It doesn't have to be humor. Some degree of lightness and friendship would be appreciated, but please don't feel restricted; it'll be your story, after all.
And sorry about the last sentence in my comment above. I was in a rush.
no subject
Date: 2011-08-12 07:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-08-12 08:04 pm (UTC)OR:
Neal teaches Peter the hat trick
no subject
Date: 2011-08-12 08:12 pm (UTC)Re: FILL: Those Things Are Called Kittens (part 2)
Date: 2011-08-12 08:13 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-08-12 08:16 pm (UTC)Re: FILL: Those Things Are Called Kittens (part 2)
Date: 2011-08-12 08:20 pm (UTC)FILL: An In-The-Moment Kinda Guy (part 1)
Date: 2011-08-12 09:22 pm (UTC)The technique was sloppy, the brush strokes unsophisticated. There was no depth to the abstract painting, no meaning, and little room for interpretation. Yes, artistic value was always a matter for debate in any work of art, but Neal could not think of a single positive thing to say about the 6x8 painting that he had stared at for the past five minutes.
It was strange that he had never noticed it, seeing how it hung in plain sight in the Burkes' living room.
Elizabeth came sauntering in, studying Neal with an amused smile playing at the corner of her mouth. "Admiring the handiwork of a fellow artist?"
Neal cleared his throat. His first instinct was to dissect the shortcomings of the painting, but he stopped himself at the last minute. He had no idea why this painting hung here, and who had painted or chosen it. He used the two seconds to desperately scramble for something meaningful to say. Or at least something not negative. "Well, it's certainly got its own style. The brush work is idiosyncratic to the point of unusual, and the choice of colors is unique."
"Hm, it's so interesting you should say that. I thought it had a certain inimitability to it, which is what attracted me to it in the first place."
"Yes," he pointed at the right hand corner of the painting, "See that green streak there? The way it reflects in the lower left hand corner? It makes the eye travel—"
Elizabeth's soft chuckle made him stop in mid-sentence, and his eyes widened just a little at her amused, soft laugh. "You're totally playing me."
She nodded. "I'm totally playing you. It was made by our 5-year-old nephew. Finger paint. We hung it out of pure courtesy."
"Oh." He chuckled. "Well, in that case I will hold back on further interpretation of the departure from reality in the abstraction of objects and shapes, as was masterfully done in this fine work of art."
She handed him one of the two glasses she was carrying. Neal sipped at it. Lemon iced tea, slightly sweetened, with a hint of... something. Mint? He suddenly realized how thirsty he was and took a few gulps of the cool and refreshing drink as he followed Elizabeth to the couch where they both sat down.
She studied him for a long moment. "Now, of course I can tell you were totally making that up, but it just makes me wonder..."
He raised his eyebrows at her. "Wonder what?"
"Why did you never consider a career in art?"
"I made a career in art."
"Art forgery."
"It's still art."
"You know that's not what I mean. Serious art, legal art."
"You worked as assistant manager at an art gallery. You know how hard it is to make the cut in art. Legitimate art."
"But you, Neal Caffrey, could have made the cut, if you'd given it a chance. I've seen your work."
"You've seen my forgeries. Probably more of them than I'd like to know."
She gave a quick chuckle. "I think you've got that right. But that's not all I've seen. The portrait of the old lady, you've had it on your easel at one time. It was beautiful, almost haunting. Her face looked so fragile, yet so vivid. And the pastel work you've done on those paintings of the Giverny Gardens. It was reminiscent of Monet's work, but with its own twist."
Neal almost blushed. He wasn't used to someone praising his work—his original work. It was new, but it also felt good. "Thank you," he said, and it came out way too shyly for the usually so confident conman.
FILL: An In-The-Moment Kinda Guy (part 2)
Date: 2011-08-12 09:23 pm (UTC)Had he? No, not really. Not seriously. Of course he'd fantasized about it. Crowds of people gathering around the works of the great Neal Caffrey. But his illusions had never taken a hold in reality. "Never seriously," he honestly admitted.
"Well, would you like to?"
"Are you offering me an opportunity?"
"Now, don't get ahead of yourself there, but if you're serious about it, I can try to pull some strings. I still have contacts, friends in the business."
He smiled a genuine smile at her. "Let me think about it, okay?"
She sipped at her iced tea, her ever vibrant eyes trained on him. "We could start by putting up a few selected works in my display room at Burke Premiere Events."
He scrutinized her. "You're really serious about this, aren't you? Almost makes me think you have some sort of ulterior motive."
She smiled. "Well, maybe I do."
"Like...?"
"Neal, at some point your four years on the anklet are going to be up. There may be ways of making a living without having to forge and con and pilfer."
Whoa, Neal thought. This was veering off into uncharted territory. He suddenly felt very uncomfortable. "Elizabeth..."
She noticed his discomfort and immediately backpedaled. "Neal, I'm sorry. I didn't mean—"
"No," he quickly said. "It's okay." He was quiet for a moment before he continued. "I just haven't really..."
"Thought that far ahead?" she finished for him.
"Yeah."
She put a comforting hand on his thigh. "That's okay. You're an in-the-moment kinda guy. I get that. Just... get used to thinking ahead a little more. Maybe not your whole life, but there is a future there that's worth considering."
He studied her, sudden gratefulness washing over him. He savored the moment. "Thanks, Elizabeth," he softly said.
"Any time. More iced tea?"
"Please."
She got up from the couch and went towards the kitchen.
As he watched her walk away, he suddenly remembered that movie, Inception. Ideas being planted in your subconscious, ideas that, once they'd taken hold, were hard to eradicate. Elizabeth had just done that, and she didn't even need any architects or chemist or layers of dreams.
She was a darn master at seeing right into you and extracting that most vulnerable spot and wrap it in chocolate coating to hand it back to you.
And here he was, being handed his future. Or if maybe not his whole future, then at least a glimpse into what it could be.
He'd have to lie if he said it didn't look attractive—and within reach.
Re: FILL: An In-The-Moment Kinda Guy (part 2)
Date: 2011-08-12 11:02 pm (UTC)Thank you for writing this. I loved it. :)
FILL: This, You Know (part 1)
Date: 2011-08-12 11:16 pm (UTC)No! No no no, Peter thought. Not again.
He should never have allowed this. Having other teams borrow Neal as their "asset of the week" had never gone down well in the past, and it surely hadn't gone down well now either. These Organized Crime agents, they didn't know Neal. They didn't know what he could and could not do. And, damn the conman, he could a) not say no to a good challenge and b) was just so damn sure of himself in everything he did. It led to a lot of overestimation and a lot of overconfidence. Which usually led to physical injury. Today was no exception.
The scene was a mess, and Peter weaved right through it. He'd heard most of what had gone down over the phone. It was getting really old to be called in to come and pick up the pieces. Or at least the pieces that were named Neal Caffrey and sat in the back of an ambulance.
An EMT clad in black was loosening the blood pressure cuff round his arm, saying something to him. A blanket was being folded over his shoulders that Neal shrugged off with one swift motion.
As Peter drew closer, he could hear snippets of the conversation.
"Sir, you need to keep warm."
The blanket was being draped back around his shoulders.
"I don't need it," Neal said, his voice strangely robotic. The blanket came off again.
"Sir," the EMT insisted. "You're still hypothermic. You should—"
"I'm fine," Neal interrupted him. "Are you done?"
"For now, yes. But I'm still concerned with your body temp—"
Neal looked up defiantly. "Look, I'm okay, I don't need—"
Peter stepped closer and the EMT acknowledged his presence. Peter briefly flashed his badge, then trained his eyes on Neal. To the EMT he said, "I've got this."
"Make him wear the blanket," the EMT just said, grabbing his med kit to leave in the direction of the building nearby.
"Peter, I'm fine, I don't need all th—"
"Neal, wear the goddamn blanket!"
Peter's raised voice made Neal flinch and Peter lifted his hands in an apologetic gesture.
"I'm sorry," Peter immediately said, his voice much gentler. He carefully reached for the dark gray, woolen blanket and placed it over Neal's shoulders. As he did so, he could feel the young man shivering beneath his hands. He let his palm linger on Neal's back just a moment longer.
"Geez," he muttered under his breath. Louder he said, "How long were you in there?"
With 'in there' he meant the walk-in cold storage room they had locked Neal in.
Neal shrugged. "I don't know. Time kind of loses its meaning when you're kept at 36 degrees for an extended period of time."
"Neal..."
"Don't." Neal raised his hands to fend his keeper off.
"Don't what?"
"Don't lecture me on how I should never have agreed to this, how I should stop treating everything as a game, how this should have taught me a lesson. Just... don't."
Peter faltered, surprised at the outburst. "I wasn't going to."
It prompted Neal to lock gazes with Peter, and there was something in Neal's eyes that made Peter want to swallow down the lump that was forming in his throat. "I was going to say that I'm gonna make those bastards pay."
That made a small smile appear on Neal's face. "I appreciate the sentiment, but I don't think that's necessary. Your fellow agents already did a pretty thorough job."
"By what? Locking them up in handcuffs? That isn't exactly what I had in mind."
"Oh, I know. But I there was some definite jostling, maybe a shove against a wall or two. I might have seen a knee jabbed in a groin. You're not the only one who's pissed, Peter."
A smile appeared on Peter's face, one that he hid quickly. Still, the tone in his voice didn't belie a certain gloating notion when he said, "Good."
FILL: This, You Know (part 2)
Date: 2011-08-12 11:17 pm (UTC)Neal closed his eyes for a long moment. "Honesty isn't something I do well. This, you know."
"Which is why I keep hoping you'll try it out some day."
"I've been better. How is that for honesty?"
"I'll take it. Are they taking you to the hospital?"
"God, I hope not."
"If they don't, you're coming home with me. No protests, no arguments. A hot shower and tea with rum and lots of El-sized mothering."
A smile spread over Neal's face. "You know what? That actually sounds great right about now. And that's me being honest too."
Peter patted his thigh in a comforting gesture. "You're getting better at this honesty thing. Keep that up."
The lingering shock seemed to have vanished from Neal's eyes when Peter met them. There was no mockery in his expression as Neal said, "I can't make any promises, but I'll definitely try."
"And that's all I can ask for."
Re: FILL: An In-The-Moment Kinda Guy (part 2)
Date: 2011-08-13 07:26 am (UTC)Re: FILL: This, You Know (part 2)
Date: 2011-08-13 05:26 pm (UTC)I loved it! Awesome h/c! Wonderful incharacter witty post-whump banter! Love the levels of physical/emotional/mental hurt, and I adore the fact that you didn't demonize the other agents. :-)
THANK YOU!!!!!!!!
Re: FILL: This, You Know (part 2)
Date: 2011-08-13 05:39 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-08-15 01:39 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-08-15 02:19 pm (UTC)I did actually write a little Suits ficlet for the latest round of
Suits ficlet here. (http://thenewpub.livejournal.com/14610.html?thread=247570#t247570)
no subject
Date: 2011-08-15 02:45 pm (UTC)1. Harvey was the one whe defended Neal during the trial (well, somehow he got away with just bond forgery, so his lawyer must have been good, right?). And he took Peter apart in the stand. And now they meet again.
2. Harvey has to defend a white collar criminal Peter took down. And Mike is excited when he reads the file about Peter and his consultant. Or Neal overhears Harvey telling Mike off for his skinny ties and gets all grumpy. Perhaps he bets with Harvey that he can put Mike into an outfit which will put all the others associates to shame, skinny tie or not?
3. Or Neal and/or Peter get in trouble for all the not really by the book arrests they did and Harvey is the one who defends them?
4. Or Peter and Neal are investigating one of Harvey's clients and Neal does one of his usual "get information no matter what" stunts, successfully charming himself through the Law Firm - until he encounters Donna.
5. Or The Law Firm has a case involving forgeries and the FBI sends Neal to them as a favour.
Feel free to combine or adjust the ideas...
no subject
Date: 2011-08-15 03:14 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-08-15 03:26 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-08-15 03:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-08-15 03:46 pm (UTC)FILL: The Infamous Neal Caffrey (part 1)
Date: 2011-08-17 06:45 pm (UTC)"Here, read that."
The light brown folder flew onto Mike's desk, and Mike barely had time to get his chai latte out of harm's way.
"And good morning to you too," he greeted Harvey.
"Yeah, yeah," Harvey waved off-handedly, already leaving in the direction of the coffee machine. "My office, half an hour," he called over his shoulder.
"All right," Mike muttered, opening the file.
Mike secretly envied Harvey's glass-walled office with the large windows, even though he would never admit it. Such a stark contrast to his neon-lit, cramped cubicle in the vestiges of Pearson & Hardman.
He pushed open the glass door after having made reasonably sure Harvey wasn't doing anything that Mike should not be interrupting. As it was, he seemed to be studying his computer screen, kneading a rubber band ball with his left hand.
Mike carefully ambled closer. Harvey wasn't looking at him right away, which wasn't all that unusual. Mike lifted his hand that was holding the file. "Read the file, like you asked."
"Good," came Harvey's casual reply.
"So... what do you want me to do with it?"
"You tell me. It's your case."
Mike did a double-take. "My ca—" he swallowed. "I get my own case?"
The smile on Harvey's face was characteristically complacent. Harvey sure liked seeing people squirm. "Don't hyperventilate. And it's not like it's your first one."
Mike raised his eyebrows in surprise. "No, but I thought after last time..."
"Look, do you want it or not?"
"Yes, yes, I want it," Mike quickly scrambled for an answer.
"You better not screw this one up, kid."
Mike flipped through the pages again. A puzzled frown creased his forehead. "If you don't mind my asking, why are you not taking it yourself? This seems exactly like your kind of thing."
"It would be, except... Let's say there's a slight conflict of interest."
This piqued Mike's curiosity. "How so?"
"Read the fine print. Arresting Agent: Peter Burke. Ring a bell?"
"Can't say that it does."
Harvey sighed theatrically as if wanting to say, 'For goodness' sake, do you know nothing?' Still, he elaborated for Mike's benefit. "One of the White Collar guys. Has made quite a name for himself. He works with a CI, Neal Caffrey."
Something dawned on Mike then. "Wait a minute—Neal Caffrey? The Neal Caffrey?"
"Unless there's more than one, then probably yes, the Neal Caffrey. I take it you've heard of him."
"Heard of him? The guy's a legend. Can I ask how this connects you to my case?"
"You know the story with Caffrey?"
"Well, I know that the FBI chased him for three years for various crimes. Racketeering, forging, art theft. Name a white collar crime, he's committed it. Didn't they finally catch and convict him?"
"Yeah. Got four years for bond forgery. And do you know why he only got four years?"
"No way. You defended him?"
Harvey leaned back in his chair, folding his arms behind his head, his smile growing all the more complacent—if that was even possible. "Yes, I did."
Mike rubbed a finger along his eyebrow, clearly impressed. "Wow. Okay. Now I get the conflict of interest. So, uhm, can I meet him?"
"Who? Caffrey? Why would you need to meet him?"
"I don't know. Discuss the case?"
Harvey quickly hid the mischievous smile playing on his lips. He knew all too well why Mike was getting excited. Neal Caffrey was as smart a conman as they came, and one of his more memorable clients.
Speaking to Mike, his tone was all-business. "You're representing the defendant. Speaking to the prosecuting party could look suspicious. If you want to win this one, focus on the case, not the local crime celebrity."
Mike wasn't stupid. He was being put in his place, so he took the cue. "The case. Right. I'm on it."
"You better be," Harvey called after him as Mike left his office.
FILL: The Infamous Neal Caffrey (part 2)
Date: 2011-08-17 06:47 pm (UTC)The prosecution had understandably been disgruntled but in the end accepted defeat. Burke and his team had done this often enough to know that the law wasn't always about getting what you wanted or deserved.
Mike had also gotten his chance to meet the infamous Neal Caffrey—though maybe not so much meet as rather interview him. Caffrey had been called as a witness. Even if Mike hadn't known what the man was capable of before, he'd still have been impressed at the conman's suave confidence and quick-wittedness.
After the end of the proceedings, after hand-shakes and thank yous with the client, Mike's eyes searched the marble-arched hall in front of courtroom. And sure enough, there was Neal Caffrey, standing slightly to the side, talking to Agent Burke and a man Mike didn't recognize.
He couldn't help but admire the guy's taste in clothing. Not that he had much of a fashion sense himself, but, damn, Caffrey knew how to wear a suit. Even Harvey's $2,000 suits paled in comparison. And Mike, with a self-satisfied smile on his lips, had noticed the skinny tie, and secretly regretted that Harvey wasn't here so that he could gloat about how it didn't always have to be regular ties to look snazzy.
It was impulsive, and Mike knew probably wrong, but he acted purely on a whim. He knew Harvey would be chiding him for poor impulse control if he was witnessing it, but it was too late now. Mike was already sauntering up to Caffrey and Burke. Their eyes were on him as he came closer.
Mike smiled at Neal, holding out his hand. "Mr. Caffrey, I just wanted to use the opportunity to, uhm..." Damn. What? Thank him? No, that was wrong. "Introduce myself in person."
A somewhat confused frown flitted across Neal's features. He took the proffered hand and shook it. "Mr. Ross, is it?"
"Mike. Mike Ross."
"Nice to meet you. And well played. Or pled, I should say."
"Thanks."
"You work for Pearson & Hardman, right? Is Harvey Specter still with them?"
"Yeah," Mike said quickly. "He just made senior partner."
Neal smiled at that. "Good for him. Give him my best."
"I will. I work closely with him, actually."
"Well, you guys certainly hold up the Pearson & Hardman tradition. I've rarely seen a lawyer as good as he is."
A small chuckle escaped Mike's lips. "Yeah, four years for bond forgery. With your track record, that's quite an accomplishment."
The brief moment of surprise on Neal's face didn't go past Mike, and he suddenly realized he should maybe not have broached the subject. "I'm sorry, that was— I should've—" he stammered.
Neal lifted his hand conciliatorily, the smile on his face quick and flashy. "Don't worry about it. Water under the bridge."
Really? Mike caught himself thinking, his gaze traveling down to Neal's left leg where he had spotted a tracking anklet earlier. He realized he needed to stop talking, lest he would be messing this up. He turned his body sideways. "I, uh, I have to head back to the office. It was nice meeting you."
"Likewise," Neal said pleasantly. Burke had an amused smirk on his face, and Mike thought he could see him leaning in to tell Caffrey something as he walked away.
Damn. He'd just made a complete fool of himself, hadn't he? Harvey would have his head if he knew. Maybe it was a good thing Harvey wasn't here after all.
Shouldering his leather bag outside the building, he looked over his shoulder, making sure that Caffrey wasn't there to see him take a bike rather than a cab or car. It was irrational, he knew, to seek recognition from a conman, but Caffrey—he really was somewhat of a legend. And he totally understood why Harvey had taken the case, all those years ago.
As he pedaled back to the office to report of his mild but still somewhat of a success to Harvey, he wondered if any of the paintings in Harvey's office actually were maybe genuine Caffreys.
THE END.
Re: FILL: The Infamous Neal Caffrey (part 2)
Date: 2011-08-17 06:53 pm (UTC)Re: FILL: The Infamous Neal Caffrey (part 2)
Date: 2011-08-17 07:10 pm (UTC)Re: FILL: The Infamous Neal Caffrey (part 2)
Date: 2011-08-17 07:16 pm (UTC)