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Title: All I Want for Christmas
Fandom: White Collar
Characters: Mozzie, Neal Caffrey, Peter Burke, Elizabeth Burke
Genre: Gen
Rating: PG
Word Count: 917
Warnings/Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: Fanfic, for fun, not profit.
Notes: Written for USA LAS. Prompt: What [character] actually wanted for Christmas was.
When Mozzie thought about Christmas, it was only in terms of the benefits or hindrances the season brought to the various cons and heists that he was involved in. Other than that, the season was just window dressing: decorations to look at and different music to listen to or a parade or two to entertain and pass the time. He didn’t see much point in participating in the corporate-sponsored hoopla that the rest of the nation indulged in, but he wasn’t a Scrooge. Still, this year, his only desire for Christmas was to spend the night alone, catching up on some reading.
Instead, here he was, standing outside the Suit’s house, holding a very nice bottle of wine and wondering why he was here at all. No, not true. He knew why he was here: Mrs. Suit. He wasn’t sure if it was the beautiful hand-written invitation to the get-together or the fact that she’d managed to have it delivered to his new “Thursday” safe house that convinced him to accept. In any case, it was too late to change his mind now.
Neal met him at the door. “Mozzie!” He took the bottle of wine and examined it. “Nice vintage. I have a bottle of this at my apartment…” he trailed off, eyes narrowing. “This is the one from my apartment, isn’t it?”
Mozzie shrugged. “The key to a perfect gift is knowing where to shop.”
Neal laughed and motioned him inside. “Elizabeth and Peter are in the kitchen. It seems they have some secret tradition surrounding the Christmas goose. As if you need a tradition beyond serving goose.”
As Mozzie walked past Neal, the smells of cooking and pine greeting him, a sudden wave of nerves washed over him. The whole Normal Rockwell Christmas wasn’t his thing. Neal followed and his smooth chatter about the meal preparations provided Mozzie with a familiar distraction and reminded him that it wasn’t Neal’s thing either. The warm decorations, glowing candles and soft jazz renditions of Christmas songs felt almost alien.
Elizabeth came out of the kitchen just as he was walking in. “I’m so very glad you could make it, Mozzie.” She gave him a hug and he found himself relaxing in her obvious pleasure at having him there.
The Suit followed, wearing a ridiculous half-apron covered with flowers and carrying two steaming mugs. He handed one to Neal and offered the second to Mozzie. “Mulled wine,” he explained. “Old family recipe. Otherwise, if you’d like something else…”
Mozzie took the offered cup with a slight hesitation. If he was going to do the Christmas thing, he might as well go all out. The drink was surprisingly good, both stronger and more sophisticated than he expected. It was, he decided, much like the Suits themselves.
He let Elizabeth take his coat and fell into unexpectedly easy camaraderie, even helping to set the table. There was just the four of them for dinner and Mozzie doubted that any restaurant in town could have matched the quality of food they had. Dinner was followed by a desert that, if Elizabeth was to be believed, was made by the Suit himself. It was a delicious, if simple, chocolate torte. More than the food, though, it was the conversation that made the meal. There was none of the awkward silences that Mozzie had expected, no hidden questions or agendas on either side and a whole lot more laughter than he’d thought possible. Mozzie was beginning to understand why some people thought so highly of the season.
After dinner, while they cleaned up the table and kitchen, they engaged in a small contest of “Name that quote”. Much to his surprise Elizabeth won the game and claimed, as her prize, the right to choose the after-dinner entertainment.
“It’s a Wonderful Life?” Neal sat on one end of the sofa and examined the DVD case to the movie that Elizabeth was putting in the player. “Isn’t this movie on a hundred times a day right now?”
“It’s not the same with commercials and editing,” she said. “Next year, you win the game and you can choose the movie.” She grabbed the remote and curled up next to her husband who was also sitting on the sofa.
“I’m not complaining,” Neal said. “I’ve always wanted to see it.”
“You’ve never seen it?” Elizabeth asked. “How could you’ve never seen it?”
Neal shrugged. “I’ve seen bits and pieces, but…” He trailed off, as if that explained everything.
“It’s one of Elizabeth’s favorite movies,” the Suit said. “We watch it every year.” He smiled at her as she flipped through the DVD menus.
“You do know that the FBI has a file on this movie, right?” Mozzie asked as he sat in the comfortable leather chair next to the tree. To his surprise, The Suit just shrugged.
“I’ve read the original, non-redacted file,” the Suit said. “I think the bureau hired a whole batch of frustrated movie critics in the ‘40s. You should see what was written about Citizen Kane.”
Mozzie leaned forward. “Is that an offer?”
Peter chuckled. “You could always try asking for that next Christmas.”
The opening of the movie cut off any response Mozzie might have made. He listened to Elizabeth as she told how she used to watch the movie every Christmas eve with her grandparents, and thought about how all he had wanted this Christmas was to spend the night quietly alone.
Sometimes it’s good not to get what you want.
Fandom: White Collar
Characters: Mozzie, Neal Caffrey, Peter Burke, Elizabeth Burke
Genre: Gen
Rating: PG
Word Count: 917
Warnings/Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: Fanfic, for fun, not profit.
Notes: Written for USA LAS. Prompt: What [character] actually wanted for Christmas was.
When Mozzie thought about Christmas, it was only in terms of the benefits or hindrances the season brought to the various cons and heists that he was involved in. Other than that, the season was just window dressing: decorations to look at and different music to listen to or a parade or two to entertain and pass the time. He didn’t see much point in participating in the corporate-sponsored hoopla that the rest of the nation indulged in, but he wasn’t a Scrooge. Still, this year, his only desire for Christmas was to spend the night alone, catching up on some reading.
Instead, here he was, standing outside the Suit’s house, holding a very nice bottle of wine and wondering why he was here at all. No, not true. He knew why he was here: Mrs. Suit. He wasn’t sure if it was the beautiful hand-written invitation to the get-together or the fact that she’d managed to have it delivered to his new “Thursday” safe house that convinced him to accept. In any case, it was too late to change his mind now.
Neal met him at the door. “Mozzie!” He took the bottle of wine and examined it. “Nice vintage. I have a bottle of this at my apartment…” he trailed off, eyes narrowing. “This is the one from my apartment, isn’t it?”
Mozzie shrugged. “The key to a perfect gift is knowing where to shop.”
Neal laughed and motioned him inside. “Elizabeth and Peter are in the kitchen. It seems they have some secret tradition surrounding the Christmas goose. As if you need a tradition beyond serving goose.”
As Mozzie walked past Neal, the smells of cooking and pine greeting him, a sudden wave of nerves washed over him. The whole Normal Rockwell Christmas wasn’t his thing. Neal followed and his smooth chatter about the meal preparations provided Mozzie with a familiar distraction and reminded him that it wasn’t Neal’s thing either. The warm decorations, glowing candles and soft jazz renditions of Christmas songs felt almost alien.
Elizabeth came out of the kitchen just as he was walking in. “I’m so very glad you could make it, Mozzie.” She gave him a hug and he found himself relaxing in her obvious pleasure at having him there.
The Suit followed, wearing a ridiculous half-apron covered with flowers and carrying two steaming mugs. He handed one to Neal and offered the second to Mozzie. “Mulled wine,” he explained. “Old family recipe. Otherwise, if you’d like something else…”
Mozzie took the offered cup with a slight hesitation. If he was going to do the Christmas thing, he might as well go all out. The drink was surprisingly good, both stronger and more sophisticated than he expected. It was, he decided, much like the Suits themselves.
He let Elizabeth take his coat and fell into unexpectedly easy camaraderie, even helping to set the table. There was just the four of them for dinner and Mozzie doubted that any restaurant in town could have matched the quality of food they had. Dinner was followed by a desert that, if Elizabeth was to be believed, was made by the Suit himself. It was a delicious, if simple, chocolate torte. More than the food, though, it was the conversation that made the meal. There was none of the awkward silences that Mozzie had expected, no hidden questions or agendas on either side and a whole lot more laughter than he’d thought possible. Mozzie was beginning to understand why some people thought so highly of the season.
After dinner, while they cleaned up the table and kitchen, they engaged in a small contest of “Name that quote”. Much to his surprise Elizabeth won the game and claimed, as her prize, the right to choose the after-dinner entertainment.
“It’s a Wonderful Life?” Neal sat on one end of the sofa and examined the DVD case to the movie that Elizabeth was putting in the player. “Isn’t this movie on a hundred times a day right now?”
“It’s not the same with commercials and editing,” she said. “Next year, you win the game and you can choose the movie.” She grabbed the remote and curled up next to her husband who was also sitting on the sofa.
“I’m not complaining,” Neal said. “I’ve always wanted to see it.”
“You’ve never seen it?” Elizabeth asked. “How could you’ve never seen it?”
Neal shrugged. “I’ve seen bits and pieces, but…” He trailed off, as if that explained everything.
“It’s one of Elizabeth’s favorite movies,” the Suit said. “We watch it every year.” He smiled at her as she flipped through the DVD menus.
“You do know that the FBI has a file on this movie, right?” Mozzie asked as he sat in the comfortable leather chair next to the tree. To his surprise, The Suit just shrugged.
“I’ve read the original, non-redacted file,” the Suit said. “I think the bureau hired a whole batch of frustrated movie critics in the ‘40s. You should see what was written about Citizen Kane.”
Mozzie leaned forward. “Is that an offer?”
Peter chuckled. “You could always try asking for that next Christmas.”
The opening of the movie cut off any response Mozzie might have made. He listened to Elizabeth as she told how she used to watch the movie every Christmas eve with her grandparents, and thought about how all he had wanted this Christmas was to spend the night quietly alone.
Sometimes it’s good not to get what you want.
no subject
Date: 2011-01-15 05:17 am (UTC)From: