![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
elrhiarhodanTitle: How To Ruin a Perfectly Good Christmas Party
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
elrhiarhodan
Fandom: White Collar
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairings: Elizabeth Burke (POV), Neal Caffrey, Peter Burke, others
Spoilers: None
Warnings/Enticements/Triggers: A rare act of gun violence. Crack.
Word Count: ~1000
Summary: There are some things that Neal Caffrey can not, will not tolerate. I don’t blame him one bit.
__________________
A/N: No beta All mistakes are mine and mine alone. Since I’ve decided not to repost my annual holiday rant, I thought I’d take out my aggravation with the season’s banality with this. Neal and I are of one mind here.
Elizabeth looked out over the people in her living room and let out a small sigh of satisfaction.
Everyone was having a good time, her employees from Burke Premier Events, some of her colleagues from the Diarmitt Gallery, Peter’s staff and co-workers – they all wore their happiness like tinsel on the Christmas tree. Mozzie was here too, of course, and this year he actually brought a friend with him, a gorgeous brunette he introduced as Sally. Or maybe it was Sali.
Neal was floating around, making sure that everyone’s glass was full with their beverage of choice, their plates filled with the delectables from their favorite caterer, and that no one was left to cling to a wall, or talk with the ficus in the corner.
Peter was, as usual, huddled in a corner with Hughes and a few of his agents, at least until Neal pulled them into a more congenial conversation. Elizabeth smiled, Neal was good like that – he was so good with setting people at ease. She had hopes, once the anklet came off, that she’d be able to hire him for Burke Premier as a professional guest. He had just the right touch.
The doorbell rang and she waved Neal off – this was, after all, her home. It was June and right behind her, Sara. Both were carrying bottles, and Sara had a large bouquet of flowers. Neal was standing next to her and she handed the liquor and his (former/current/future) girlfriend off to him, took the flowers, snagged June and introduced her to a few people.
Elizabeth caught Peter’s eye and gestured with her head over at Neal and Sara. It seemed that things between them were definitely improving. They were standing so close that a stray molecule would have trouble getting between them. Sara was fiddling with Neal’s tie; he was whispering something in her ear. Something naughty, apparently, because she could see Sara’s blush all the way across the room. And Neal, devious Neal, was slowly maneuvering Sara to a very special spot near the staircase, where they had hung the mistletoe.
As she looked around, Elizabeth realized that one piece was missing. The holiday music
A few months ago, Moz had promised to hook up their stereo system to an iPod, but never quite got around to it. Which was fine, since she and Peter weren’t technogeeks who needed to have the latest electronic toys. Old-fashioned CDs were good enough for her, and they had the perfect one for this party. A compilation disc her sister’s eldest made for them last year. All the seasonal favorites. She popped it in and pressed play.
Jingle bell, jingle bell, jingle bell rock
Jingle bells swing and jingle bells ring
Snowing and blowing up bushels of fun
Now the jingle hop has begun.
There. Perfect. Her job as party planner complete, now she could assume the mantle of hostess. Picking up a glass of eggnog, she took a sip, plunged into the holiday spirit, and began to circulate among her guests. Peter was now talking football with Yvonne’s husband, a former pro linebacker. While she enjoyed watching the game with her husband, she wasn’t so fond of listening to two sports fanatics dissect last week’s game. She gave Peter a kiss and moved on.
Jingle bell, jingle bell, jingle bell rock
Jingle bell chime in jingle bell time
Dancing and prancing in Jingle Bell Square
In the frosty air.
Sali/Sally and Moz were deep into it with Clinton and Blake the Probie (she never quite figured out if Blake was a first or last name, and she suspected that Peter didn’t know or remember). Elizabeth had no idea what they were congenially arguing about, but as long as everyone was having fun, it didn’t matter.
What a bright time, it's the right time
To rock the night away
Jingle bell time is a swell time
To go gliding in a one-horse sleigh
Yvonne and June, Diana and Christie were laughing at a story Diana was telling. Christie had taken possession of a bottle of red and was topping off everyone’s glass. “You know, the antioxidants in a good Bordeaux are important for heart health. Cheers, ladies!” Elizabeth joined the toast.
Giddy-up jingle horse, pick up your feet
Jingle around the clock
Mix and a-mingle to jingling feet
That's the jingle bell rock.
She continued to move around the room, stopping at each little grouping of friends to say hello and make sure everyone had what they wanted. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Satchmo starting to raid the remains on the discarded plates. Peter saw him too, and took him upstairs. A sick dog would certainly wreck the party mood.
Yvonne’s husband seemed a little lost without Peter and she introduced him to Reese and his wife. Emil may have been a professional football player, but he found a second career in landscape architecture. Hughes’ wife, Camille was a retired horticulturist, so the two would have plenty to talk about.
Jingle bell, jingle bell, jingle bell rock
Jingle bell chime in jingle bell time
Dancing and prancing in Jingle Bell Square
In the frosty air.
She glanced over at Neal and Sara, but something was wrong. Sara looked upset and Neal’s body language screamed extreme anxiety. Elizabeth hoped the two of them weren’t arguing. Maybe it was time for a little intervention.
“Everything okay?”
Sara gave her a worried look. “I’m not sure.”
“Neal?” She put a hand on his forearm, the muscles were tense and rock hard. She took the glass out of his hands. “Are you all right, what’s the matter?”
He looked at her with wild, panicked eyes.
Sara draped an arm over Neal’s shoulders. “Baby, tell me what’s wrong.”
He didn’t answer, and his jaw was clenched so tight that there was a ring of white around his lips. Thankfully Peter came back down and saw Neal’s distress.
“Neal? What’s going on?”
“Excuse me, Peter. I need to get something.” Without any of his usual finesse, Neal shoved his hands into Peter’s pocket, lifted his keys and went upstairs. Peter looked at Sara and then at her. She shrugged and to their infinite regret, made no attempt to stop him.
What a bright time, it's the right time
To rock the ni...
A few minutes later, Neal came back downstairs, Peter’s Glock in his hands and a look of grim determination on his face. A hush fell over the room.
Elizabeth watched, appalled, as Neal went to the stereo, clawed open the disc tray and yanked the CD out. At the rising murmur from the guests, he turned around and scowled. But he did replace the disc with a collection of big band favorites. Not terribly Christmas-y, but still festive.
He didn’t look at anyone as he stalked out to the patio, placed the CD on the deck and emptied the entire clip of Peter’s gun into it.
There was a look of grim satisfaction on Neal’s face, and after the last bullet was fired, he closed his eyes and smiled. The way the tension left his body was like a balloon deflating.
He came back inside, thanked Peter as he handed him back his gun and kissed Elizabeth on the cheek. The only comment he made was, “I really hate that song.”
FIN
Author:
elrhiarhodanFandom: White Collar
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairings: Elizabeth Burke (POV), Neal Caffrey, Peter Burke, others
Spoilers: None
Warnings/Enticements/Triggers: A rare act of gun violence. Crack.
Word Count: ~1000
Summary: There are some things that Neal Caffrey can not, will not tolerate. I don’t blame him one bit.
A/N: No beta All mistakes are mine and mine alone. Since I’ve decided not to repost my annual holiday rant, I thought I’d take out my aggravation with the season’s banality with this. Neal and I are of one mind here.
Elizabeth looked out over the people in her living room and let out a small sigh of satisfaction.
Everyone was having a good time, her employees from Burke Premier Events, some of her colleagues from the Diarmitt Gallery, Peter’s staff and co-workers – they all wore their happiness like tinsel on the Christmas tree. Mozzie was here too, of course, and this year he actually brought a friend with him, a gorgeous brunette he introduced as Sally. Or maybe it was Sali.
Neal was floating around, making sure that everyone’s glass was full with their beverage of choice, their plates filled with the delectables from their favorite caterer, and that no one was left to cling to a wall, or talk with the ficus in the corner.
Peter was, as usual, huddled in a corner with Hughes and a few of his agents, at least until Neal pulled them into a more congenial conversation. Elizabeth smiled, Neal was good like that – he was so good with setting people at ease. She had hopes, once the anklet came off, that she’d be able to hire him for Burke Premier as a professional guest. He had just the right touch.
The doorbell rang and she waved Neal off – this was, after all, her home. It was June and right behind her, Sara. Both were carrying bottles, and Sara had a large bouquet of flowers. Neal was standing next to her and she handed the liquor and his (former/current/future) girlfriend off to him, took the flowers, snagged June and introduced her to a few people.
Elizabeth caught Peter’s eye and gestured with her head over at Neal and Sara. It seemed that things between them were definitely improving. They were standing so close that a stray molecule would have trouble getting between them. Sara was fiddling with Neal’s tie; he was whispering something in her ear. Something naughty, apparently, because she could see Sara’s blush all the way across the room. And Neal, devious Neal, was slowly maneuvering Sara to a very special spot near the staircase, where they had hung the mistletoe.
As she looked around, Elizabeth realized that one piece was missing. The holiday music
A few months ago, Moz had promised to hook up their stereo system to an iPod, but never quite got around to it. Which was fine, since she and Peter weren’t technogeeks who needed to have the latest electronic toys. Old-fashioned CDs were good enough for her, and they had the perfect one for this party. A compilation disc her sister’s eldest made for them last year. All the seasonal favorites. She popped it in and pressed play.
Jingle bell, jingle bell, jingle bell rock
Jingle bells swing and jingle bells ring
Snowing and blowing up bushels of fun
Now the jingle hop has begun.
There. Perfect. Her job as party planner complete, now she could assume the mantle of hostess. Picking up a glass of eggnog, she took a sip, plunged into the holiday spirit, and began to circulate among her guests. Peter was now talking football with Yvonne’s husband, a former pro linebacker. While she enjoyed watching the game with her husband, she wasn’t so fond of listening to two sports fanatics dissect last week’s game. She gave Peter a kiss and moved on.
Jingle bell, jingle bell, jingle bell rock
Jingle bell chime in jingle bell time
Dancing and prancing in Jingle Bell Square
In the frosty air.
Sali/Sally and Moz were deep into it with Clinton and Blake the Probie (she never quite figured out if Blake was a first or last name, and she suspected that Peter didn’t know or remember). Elizabeth had no idea what they were congenially arguing about, but as long as everyone was having fun, it didn’t matter.
What a bright time, it's the right time
To rock the night away
Jingle bell time is a swell time
To go gliding in a one-horse sleigh
Yvonne and June, Diana and Christie were laughing at a story Diana was telling. Christie had taken possession of a bottle of red and was topping off everyone’s glass. “You know, the antioxidants in a good Bordeaux are important for heart health. Cheers, ladies!” Elizabeth joined the toast.
Giddy-up jingle horse, pick up your feet
Jingle around the clock
Mix and a-mingle to jingling feet
That's the jingle bell rock.
She continued to move around the room, stopping at each little grouping of friends to say hello and make sure everyone had what they wanted. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Satchmo starting to raid the remains on the discarded plates. Peter saw him too, and took him upstairs. A sick dog would certainly wreck the party mood.
Yvonne’s husband seemed a little lost without Peter and she introduced him to Reese and his wife. Emil may have been a professional football player, but he found a second career in landscape architecture. Hughes’ wife, Camille was a retired horticulturist, so the two would have plenty to talk about.
Jingle bell, jingle bell, jingle bell rock
Jingle bell chime in jingle bell time
Dancing and prancing in Jingle Bell Square
In the frosty air.
She glanced over at Neal and Sara, but something was wrong. Sara looked upset and Neal’s body language screamed extreme anxiety. Elizabeth hoped the two of them weren’t arguing. Maybe it was time for a little intervention.
“Everything okay?”
Sara gave her a worried look. “I’m not sure.”
“Neal?” She put a hand on his forearm, the muscles were tense and rock hard. She took the glass out of his hands. “Are you all right, what’s the matter?”
He looked at her with wild, panicked eyes.
Sara draped an arm over Neal’s shoulders. “Baby, tell me what’s wrong.”
He didn’t answer, and his jaw was clenched so tight that there was a ring of white around his lips. Thankfully Peter came back down and saw Neal’s distress.
“Neal? What’s going on?”
“Excuse me, Peter. I need to get something.” Without any of his usual finesse, Neal shoved his hands into Peter’s pocket, lifted his keys and went upstairs. Peter looked at Sara and then at her. She shrugged and to their infinite regret, made no attempt to stop him.
What a bright time, it's the right time
To rock the ni...
A few minutes later, Neal came back downstairs, Peter’s Glock in his hands and a look of grim determination on his face. A hush fell over the room.
Elizabeth watched, appalled, as Neal went to the stereo, clawed open the disc tray and yanked the CD out. At the rising murmur from the guests, he turned around and scowled. But he did replace the disc with a collection of big band favorites. Not terribly Christmas-y, but still festive.
He didn’t look at anyone as he stalked out to the patio, placed the CD on the deck and emptied the entire clip of Peter’s gun into it.
There was a look of grim satisfaction on Neal’s face, and after the last bullet was fired, he closed his eyes and smiled. The way the tension left his body was like a balloon deflating.
He came back inside, thanked Peter as he handed him back his gun and kissed Elizabeth on the cheek. The only comment he made was, “I really hate that song.”
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2014-12-27 05:53 am (UTC)