sheenianni (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sheenianni) wrote2018-05-11 11:46 pm
sheenianni) wrote2018-05-11 11:46 pm
White Collar Fic: A Summer in Prague
Title: A Summer in Prague
Author:sheenianni
Characters/Pairings: Neal Caffrey, Peter Burke, Elizabeth Burke, Mozzie
Word Count: 800
Rating: PG
Summary: It’s year 2002 when Peter and Neal meet again, and it’s under circumstances that neither of them imagined... Pre-series AU.
This is a remix, a missing scene or whatever you call it of my earlier story/art thing called Chasing Bonds. You might want to read that after finishing this one.
Written for the collarcorner exchange for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
polleekin.
A/N: First of all I need to apologize for taking so very long with this story. Full disclosure – there was a completely different fic which kept growing, and eventually it became clear it would never work without being significantly better fleshed out. As it is, I’m currently contemplating turning that concept into a full-blown original novel – if I ever get to writing it. So I decided to let that be for the moment and write this story instead.
A SUMMER IN PRAGUE
The rain never ends.
When Mozzie first tossed him the bright yellow raincoat, Neal turned up his nose at the cheap PVC material and promptly refused to wear it. One day and two drenched jackets later, he capitulated and put the thing on, no matter how ugly and uncomfortable it was.
(It came from Tesco and still had the “99,90” CZK price tag on, except Neal is pretty sure Mozzie stole it rather than bought it. If such a thing ever bothered him, then this time he could tell his conscience that they are helping people and one stolen raincoat is inconsequential given the big picture here… except Neal has stolen stuff worth thousands of raincoats and still sleeps soundly at night. Not that Peter needs to know that…)
Burke-the-Jerk.
Shuddering under his raincoat, Neal takes a moment to stretch his aching back and look around. Surrounded by the huge puddles of water and the groups of dripping people, he shudders again just from the very image. Longingly, he tries to remember how it felt to be dry. It’s hard to believe it’s only been raining for four days – and yet, the forecast says the weather won’t change for another few days, and Neal has seen how drastically the river has already risen to dread what may yet come.
It’s because this isn’t just some light rain – it’s raining buckets and not letting up. Neal might have expected this during a monsoon season somewhere, except this is Prague, a city in Central Europe, a place that’s supposed to be devoid of natural disasters. He came here specifically after the Adler debacle in New York to enjoy some peace, art and history while maybe liberating a painting or two on the side. Instead, floods.
Funny; Peter also said this was supposed to be his vacation. Speaking of the devil…
Neal pauses as he sees Peter’s hunched back in front of him. “Hey, Peter.”
Peter turns around to look at him. “Yeah? What is it?”
Neal motions towards the half-built wall made of bags of sand. “Do you think it will hold?”
Peter hesitates. “It has to hold. It will hold.” For a moment, they both stare into the heavy rain with worry. Then Peter clears his throat. “Help me?”
“Yeah, sure.”
They grunt and gasp as they pick up a sandbag. Together, they carry it to the makeshift flood wall. They add maybe fifteen bags before they’re both sweating and exhausted.
“Peter!”
They both turn around to see Elizabeth walking towards them with a thermos flask.
Peter smiles at her. “Hey hon.” Neal watches as they share a brief kiss.
A moment later, Elizabeth greets him too. “Hi Neal.”
“Elizabeth.”
She smiles at both of them. “I brought some tea to keep you two warm.”
They settle down on a few sandbags that they have yet to put into the flood wall. Sharing a single cup, they take turns drinking the hot liquid, enjoying the well-earned moment of rest despite the rain that keeps pouring on all of them.
Some moments later, Elizabeth leaves them, going back to help filling the bags with sand.
Clutching the hot cup in his hands, Neal blows on the surface before taking a sip. “She’s brilliant,” he says to Peter.
“Who?”
“Elizabeth. You’re lucky.”
Peter smiles softly. “I know I am.”
Finishing the cup, Neal passes it to Peter who fills it again from the thermo flask.
“You know I’m still an FBI agent,” says Peter a moment later. “When this is over, I have to arrest you. This doesn’t change anything.”
“I never thought it would,” says Neal amiably.
They’re both lying through their teeth. Everything changed. You couldn’t spend four days working side by side, facing off a flood, trying to save a drowning city and not be changed by it.
Neal tries to imagine flying off once it is possible again. Going to France, robbing Louvre. It feels empty. Instead, he thinks about sharing a glass of wine with Elizabeth, just spending a quiet evening playing Scrabble with Moz, bantering with Peter.
Burke-the-Jerk, Neal repeats silently in his mind. His arch-enemy.
His friend.
“Looks like that’s it.” Peter pours the remains of the tea into the cup and passes it to Neal.
Neal quickly finishes the tea, then sighs quietly and stands up. “Well, back to work, I guess.”
They don’t talk much for the next hour as they keep carrying the bags of sand, raising the flood wall together with other volunteers until it stands at over five feet tall.
That evening, Elizabeth invites Neal and Mozzie (who was taking turns helping filling the sandbags and doing who-knows-what in a different part of the city) to share the dinner with her and Peter. Peter’s protests are feeble at best.
* * *
The water comes the next morning. Their wall holds.
Author:
sheenianniCharacters/Pairings: Neal Caffrey, Peter Burke, Elizabeth Burke, Mozzie
Word Count: 800
Rating: PG
Summary: It’s year 2002 when Peter and Neal meet again, and it’s under circumstances that neither of them imagined... Pre-series AU.
This is a remix, a missing scene or whatever you call it of my earlier story/art thing called Chasing Bonds. You might want to read that after finishing this one.
Written for the collarcorner exchange for
polleekin.A/N: First of all I need to apologize for taking so very long with this story. Full disclosure – there was a completely different fic which kept growing, and eventually it became clear it would never work without being significantly better fleshed out. As it is, I’m currently contemplating turning that concept into a full-blown original novel – if I ever get to writing it. So I decided to let that be for the moment and write this story instead.
___________________________________
The rain never ends.
When Mozzie first tossed him the bright yellow raincoat, Neal turned up his nose at the cheap PVC material and promptly refused to wear it. One day and two drenched jackets later, he capitulated and put the thing on, no matter how ugly and uncomfortable it was.
(It came from Tesco and still had the “99,90” CZK price tag on, except Neal is pretty sure Mozzie stole it rather than bought it. If such a thing ever bothered him, then this time he could tell his conscience that they are helping people and one stolen raincoat is inconsequential given the big picture here… except Neal has stolen stuff worth thousands of raincoats and still sleeps soundly at night. Not that Peter needs to know that…)
Burke-the-Jerk.
Shuddering under his raincoat, Neal takes a moment to stretch his aching back and look around. Surrounded by the huge puddles of water and the groups of dripping people, he shudders again just from the very image. Longingly, he tries to remember how it felt to be dry. It’s hard to believe it’s only been raining for four days – and yet, the forecast says the weather won’t change for another few days, and Neal has seen how drastically the river has already risen to dread what may yet come.
It’s because this isn’t just some light rain – it’s raining buckets and not letting up. Neal might have expected this during a monsoon season somewhere, except this is Prague, a city in Central Europe, a place that’s supposed to be devoid of natural disasters. He came here specifically after the Adler debacle in New York to enjoy some peace, art and history while maybe liberating a painting or two on the side. Instead, floods.
Funny; Peter also said this was supposed to be his vacation. Speaking of the devil…
Neal pauses as he sees Peter’s hunched back in front of him. “Hey, Peter.”
Peter turns around to look at him. “Yeah? What is it?”
Neal motions towards the half-built wall made of bags of sand. “Do you think it will hold?”
Peter hesitates. “It has to hold. It will hold.” For a moment, they both stare into the heavy rain with worry. Then Peter clears his throat. “Help me?”
“Yeah, sure.”
They grunt and gasp as they pick up a sandbag. Together, they carry it to the makeshift flood wall. They add maybe fifteen bags before they’re both sweating and exhausted.
“Peter!”
They both turn around to see Elizabeth walking towards them with a thermos flask.
Peter smiles at her. “Hey hon.” Neal watches as they share a brief kiss.
A moment later, Elizabeth greets him too. “Hi Neal.”
“Elizabeth.”
She smiles at both of them. “I brought some tea to keep you two warm.”
They settle down on a few sandbags that they have yet to put into the flood wall. Sharing a single cup, they take turns drinking the hot liquid, enjoying the well-earned moment of rest despite the rain that keeps pouring on all of them.
Some moments later, Elizabeth leaves them, going back to help filling the bags with sand.
Clutching the hot cup in his hands, Neal blows on the surface before taking a sip. “She’s brilliant,” he says to Peter.
“Who?”
“Elizabeth. You’re lucky.”
Peter smiles softly. “I know I am.”
Finishing the cup, Neal passes it to Peter who fills it again from the thermo flask.
“You know I’m still an FBI agent,” says Peter a moment later. “When this is over, I have to arrest you. This doesn’t change anything.”
“I never thought it would,” says Neal amiably.
They’re both lying through their teeth. Everything changed. You couldn’t spend four days working side by side, facing off a flood, trying to save a drowning city and not be changed by it.
Neal tries to imagine flying off once it is possible again. Going to France, robbing Louvre. It feels empty. Instead, he thinks about sharing a glass of wine with Elizabeth, just spending a quiet evening playing Scrabble with Moz, bantering with Peter.
Burke-the-Jerk, Neal repeats silently in his mind. His arch-enemy.
His friend.
“Looks like that’s it.” Peter pours the remains of the tea into the cup and passes it to Neal.
Neal quickly finishes the tea, then sighs quietly and stands up. “Well, back to work, I guess.”
They don’t talk much for the next hour as they keep carrying the bags of sand, raising the flood wall together with other volunteers until it stands at over five feet tall.
That evening, Elizabeth invites Neal and Mozzie (who was taking turns helping filling the sandbags and doing who-knows-what in a different part of the city) to share the dinner with her and Peter. Peter’s protests are feeble at best.
The water comes the next morning. Their wall holds.