The Coalition For Disturbing Metaphors (halfshellvenus) wrote,
The Coalition For Disturbing Metaphors

White Collar Fiction: "Mayhem Is Absolutely A Plan" (Neal, Mozzie, PG)

Title: Mayhem Is Absolutely A Plan
Fandom: White Collar
Author: HalfshellVenus
Characters: Neal, Mozzie, Peter (Gen, Humor)
Rating: PG
Summary: The dynamic duo is at it again...
Author's Notes: For usanetwork_las, this is "Boys Will Be Boys."
Also for writers_choice ("Job").


After a year of working for the bureau, Neal was finally used to having weekends off. He enjoyed them. In the morning, if the weather was nice, he'd take his Italian coffee outside and read the newspaper all the way through. If it was cold or rainy he'd do the same thing in bed, pillows packed a foot deep behind him.

So when he heard a knock on the door one Saturday at nine a.m., he assumed it was June with an invitation or a request for a favor. He was wrong.

It was Mozzie.

"What is that on your face?" Neal asked.

"A mustache." Mozzie pushed through the doorway and went over to the mirror to inspect himself. "For my disguise."

Neal shut the door. "Not that old man Furtzel thing again."

"Yes Furtzel, of course Furtzel. For the job today." Mozzie pressed the mustache tighter against his skin.

Neal gathered up his breakfast dishes and put them next to the sink. "What job?"

"The Suit wants us to get a document from the city library. Didn't he call you?"

"Wait, he called you? How did he get your number? I thought you didn't trust him."

"I don't. Not completely." Mozzie bounced on his toes and peered around the room vaguely. "The Suit and I have areas of overlapping interest, that's all…"

"Hmmm," Neal said. "So who are you supposed to be today, my father?"


Neal sighed. "Guess I'll get dressed..."

It turned out that the library didn't hand over documents to just anyone, not even people pretending to be one of the city's former councilmen.

Mozzie and Neal conferred at the first-floor drinking fountain. "The Suit said this might happen..."


"The document's locked in the basement. Plan B."

That was how Neal wound up keeping lookout while Mozzie worked lock picks on the downstairs door.

"Faster," Neal hissed.

"This is faster!" Mozzie said.

When Mozzie got the door open, they whipped inside and locked it again

"God, this thing could be anywhere."

"But it's probably filed under 'B,' so let's start there."

Neal took one cabinet and Mozzie took the other. After what seemed an eternity, Mozzie said "Found it!" just as an alarm sounded.

"Great," Neal said, "We'll be locked in."

"Not if we use the fire doors."

Mozzie pulled out a lighter and got up on a table, holding the flame under the fire-detector. The sprinklers went on and another alarm sounded.

"Good enough."

Neal and Mozzie raced up the back stairs and out through the fire exit, slowing to a walk as they stepped through the doorway out onto the street. They strolled away as nonchalantly as two wet people on a sunny day could. Neal casually took off his jacket and Mozzie pulled off his mustache and removed his hat.

"That could've gone better," Neal muttered.

"You think?" Mozzie said sharply.

The continued to the corner and went in opposite directions, with the document firmly stowed in Neal's jacket pocket.

It wasn't even an hour later when Neal answered another knock on the door of the loft.


"I heard there was a robbery at the library this morning. And a fire."

"Really?" Neal said, stepping aside to let him in.

Peter looked at him suspiciously. "Your hair's wet."

"I just got out of the shower," Neal said.

"Right… Please tell me the two of you didn't—"

"Hold on. Mozzie said you didn't want to know anything," Neal reminded him.

"I don't!" Peter said. "But if you've violated your parole…"

Neal thought for a moment. "Not by much..."

"Fine," Peter grumbled. "So does that mean you have it?"

"Do you want me to have it?"

"Oh for God's sake, Neal, just hand it over!"

Peter stomped all the way down the stairs and out through the front door after that.

Neal listened just a little longer, to be safe, then went to the bedroom armoire and opened the door.

"Invite him to stay for coffee, why don't you?" Mozzie said. He stepped out into the room. "So, are we in trouble?"

"Not permanently," Neal said.

"Great!" Mozzie crowed. "And with that, we end another successful venture. Got any cookies?"

"I have crackers."

Mozzie frowned, and then shrugged.

"Oh, well. Close enough…"

-------- fin --------

Tags: las, my_fic, random-fandom, white collar, writers_choice
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