[Original] Deadly earthquacke
Title: A name and a surname
Series: White Collar
Rating: PG
Genre: Generic
Character: Peter Burke, Neal Caffrey
Pairing: PeterxNeal (pre-slash )
Word Count: 970
Notes: How can you not love this show and its characters (maschilicoffcoff)? Now it is so entered in my obsessions that I finished and I to write on a flashfic. Nothing challenging, nothing really slash, but let's face it, Peter and Neal pretty much do it on purpose to give all 'ideas on the sti couple. More than "love for Kate," but if I miss it clear whether or not Kate spare> _>! Jokes aside, the fic is sort of missing a moment of the episode Vital Signs e. .. and nothing, I tried, that's it XD.
Disclaimers: The characters in White Collar are the rightholders.
Flashfic based on the episode 1x10 - Vital Signs
Neal Caffrey. A
name. A surname. A thorn in the side.
With his magnetic blue eyes and his way of opening his eyes all the time, to catch even the smallest ray of light and attract attention in those wells that say "Look at me, are beautiful, and you have beautiful eyes can not do anything. "
Neal Caffrey. With that his hateful
full inquiry, that his impeccably to wear anywhere and pull out like a model.
"It 's a Devore."'s Feels almost say, with the air of a dandy pedantic.
With a hat. Omnipresent. Irritating. Almost as much as the way he spins on his head and then calarselo on brown hair perfectly coiffed. Each
. Damn. Time.
"Oh, but I find it just before casting the damn hat in the trash and then send him back to prison." Growls angrily Peter, the car in gear and going at full speed toward the clinic where idiot has seen fit to artifact to slip back to play cops and robbers, without understanding what it is for the FBI. It is enough. Not their advisers. Especially not their advisers criminals.
When he finds he can not believe his eyes and even his own ears, seen as the boy succeeds in torturing eardrums reduced even in this terrible state. Despite everything that can not enjoy a sigh of relief before the pitiful performance of the song forger.
At least it is not dying.
not have the faintest idea how I can trascinarselo to a meeting room behind the plan, the seemingly endless corridors, has the impression that all the doors have been specially locked to deprive them of any hiding place and it seems that the servants have multiplied in just minutes. Moreover Neal does not cooperate and it weighs on me like a dead weight, aggrappandoglisi shoulder the bad-worse, and when she finally managed to pull it a bit 'higher and a few steps forward, his mouth comes so close to your ear feel his breath against the skin with the drawling mumble, "You are strong ... Wow. Peter, you're really strong. "
" Do it over. "Repeats, once again, swallowing the embarrassment.
dropped it on the carpet of the meeting room, heavy with the fatigue of being led up to it and exasperated by the thought of pounding off the hook that boy. One day he will kill them both, is the phrase that goes through your head while listening to the ravings of Neal, who speaks of pigeons, money, people and even videotapes of security. The
videotape.
This was missing. But
porc ...
One day I'll kill him. concludes mentally.
But then again, Neal manages to leave you breathless: sighs and throws it into a greenhouse of his sentences, his voice languid due to the drug that they put in a circle and shining eyes looking weary as human . Coming together and sunk.
"Of all the people in my life, Mozzie, Kate even ... You're the only one. "
" The only thing? " dried hisses the FBI agent.
"The only person in my life, I trust."
Peter is silent. He closes his eyes for a moment and puts his hand through his hair of the youngest in a rude and clumsy caress.
Whether you're cursed, Neal Caffrey.
is screwed. Fucking. With a heart that melts and the physical need to move away from that guy before you do something you regret: hug, promise the moon, kiss ...
For heaven's sake, is a man! A married man who loves his wife!
And really loves Elizabeth, more than any other woman in the world, but in the eyes of Neal, drifting to the effects of drugs, and insistence with which it seeks to convey in silence-only-that look really, really , whatever happens is willing to put their lives in the hands of FBI agent, everything he thinks Peter is they can not disappoint.
Then, also thinks it would be easier if you throw everything out the window, but mainly reflects on how to get him out of that mess and how to protect it again.
Half an hour later I'm away in the car that eats up the tarmac and lungs that breathe the polluted air of New York.
safely.
The videotape of the surveillance is in the pocket of the jacket of Peter. This was stolen.
Peter. Lo. Ha. Stolen.
'It is the first and last time. "Mumbles, repeat for the twenty-eighth time in ten minutes, like a mantra that seems to have no more purpose. The hands are crushing the steering wheel and the forehead is furrowed in an expression of scowl.
"Peter." Neal called him, slumped at her side.
"Be still and let me drive."
The boy is silent, obedient, but still keep the blue eyes turned toward him, waiting. Patient. Leaving the second pass. One after another. Not in a hurry.
"All right, speak!"
knew this would happen this way.
"What the hell is it now?" Application exasperated agent, repenting, after having noticed too late the malicious flash through his gaze and smile canagliesco that tired, born on the lips.
"I like when you worry about me."
We miss that little Peter nail, but before he can growl at anything, the forger has seen fit to slather on the car seat, pick up the head in his hands muttering a plaintive "Ouch, that teeeestaaa sore." and close your eyes with every intention of falling asleep, taking refuge in a dream world, away from the comments of the agent and all that gave birth to his statement.
And Peter can not help but watch it.
hallucinating. Irritated. Confused. Embarrassed. Cotto to suck ...
'Te Neal swear ... I hate you ... '
Neal Caffrey. A
name. A surname. A source of endless trouble ...
... can not help but continue to be desired.
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