elrhiarhodan: (Mozzie - Truman Capote)
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Title: The Scariest Costume of All
Author: [livejournal.com profile] elrhiarhodan
Fandom: White Collar
Rating: G
Characters/Pairings: Wee!Peter, Wee!Mozzie, Wee!Neal
Spoilers: No
Warnings/Enticements/Triggers: Crossdressing
Word Count: ~400
Summary: Wee!Peter, Wee!Mozzie, and Wee!Neal are middle school friends, out for some trick or treating. Oh, those were the days!



A/N: No beta. All mistakes are mine and mine alone. Originally written for the ladies at [livejournal.com profile] slashchat/

__________________


“And what are you supposed to be, the tooth fairy?” Neal looked at Peter and tried not to laugh – that would be mean. The thirteen year old was dressed in, well, a dress. Neal’s friend, Moz didn’t care about not hurting Peter’s feelings, he was laughing so hard, he dropped his bag of candy.

He and Peter were best friends and Peter and Moz was sort-of-friends. They were all in the same class. On the first day of seventh grade, Peter had gone out of his way to protect Neal, who had just skipped two grades. A few of the kids had stolen Neal’s backpack with his precious collection of art supplies. Peter got it back for him and declared to anyone who would listen (and most of them did, because Peter was that type of kid) that Neal was his friend, and no one was to lay a hand on him. Moz, who had transferred from an inner city middle school when he was adopted over the summer sort of wormed his way into that circle of protection. Peter thought that Mozzie was a little strange, but he had such an innate sense of fairness that he couldn’t allow anyone to torment the poor kid, who was too short and too smart for his own good.

Peter looked down at Neal - using every advantage that three years and four inches gave him. “No, I’m J. Edgar Hoover.”

“J. Edgar Who???” Neal had no idea who that was.

“J. Edgar Hoover - the most villainous villain that America ever produced.” Moz commented breathlessly. “Except for Roy Cohn.”

Neal looked Moz, who had gone from hysterical laughter to near awe.

“I don’t understand.”

Moz explained that this J. Edgar was once the head of the FBI and everyone, from presidents to movie stars to the ordinary citizen was afraid of him. Neal shook his head. “And he wore a dress?”

Peter nodded at Moz, oddly regal for a prepubescent boy in pink chiffon. “Yes - he had power and he didn’t hesitate to use it. He also enjoyed wearing flouncy dresses. Wanna make something of it?”

Neal shook his head. He wanted to go trick or treating. “I heard that Mrs. Westen is giving out Hershey Minis and has taken out all the Special Darks.” He lowered his D.B. Cooper mask.

Moz let out a long suffering sigh and muttered, “But I like Special Darks” as he pulled the hand-made Darth Vader helmet, complete with breather and lights, over his face.

As the walked down the street, they passed hordes of other kids and not a single one of them commented about Peter’s poofy dress, Neal’s mask decorated only with a police artist sketch, or the really small kid in a Star Wars costume so elaborate that he could barely walk.

FIN


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