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kathierif_ficTitle: And Yet I Came Everytime You Call
Author: Kathie
Fandom: White Collar
Disclaimer: Not mine, not true, blah.
Rating: FRT-13
Pairing: Peter/Elizabeth, can be read as Peter/Elizabeth/Neal
Summary: It was a disturbing sight, to see Neal Caffrey so much out of control.
Warnings: AU, werewolves
Word Count: 775
A/Ns: written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
au_bingo prompt Fantasy/Supernatural: Author's choice (werewolves). Title is a line from the song "In Control" by Die Toten Hosen.
It was, Peter Burke thought while wrapping his arm around Elizabeth’s shoulder and pulling her close to his side, a discerning and somewhat disturbing sight, to see Neal Caffrey, who usually was so much in control of himself and his clothes, so much out of control.
Elizabeth shivered slightly – she, too, was staring at the spectacle going on in front of them, in the middle of their bathroom floor. Blood was speared over the tiled floor, scraps of fabric and cloth scattered around the heaving figure hunched down in the middle of the room.
If there had been any doubt that this was Neal, Peter realized while surveying the chaos in front of him, the part where the fedora was resting, unharmed, next to a big, black paw was giving him a big clue as to what had happened.
The knowledge that this was, indeed, Neal Caffrey, gave Peter the courage to take a closer look at the creature sitting in the middle of all the carnage.
It was covered in black fur that probably looked silky like Neal’s own hair, but was matted down and slick-looking right now. The creature had a big, massive chest, four huge paws and a strong head with an elongated snout. Its tail was long and looked strong enough to knock down small pieces of furniture.
The creature whimpered and twisted around to lick its shoulder briefly, and Peter caught a glimpse of long, sharp and dangerous-looking teeth. The creature moved slowly, with clumsy stiffness, as it tried to sit up and lick its fur clean.
Elizabeth took a step closer to the creature, and Peter felt a brief moment of blinding, paralyzing panic. No matter who was under the skin of that thing, even if it was Neal, if it hurt Elizabeth, Peter would shoot him with no remorse or hesitation at all.
He didn’t need to have worried. Bright blue eyes tracked her movements as Elizabeth slowly moved closer, the creature whimpered and ducked its head submissively.
“Oh, you poor thing,” Elizabeth cooed and reached for a towel. She sat down on the edge of the tub. “Come here,” she said, and the creature shuffled slowly closer to her.
Elizabeth started to rub it dry. The towel was soon stained red with what Peter quickly realized was blood.
Neal’s blood.
The creature – Neal, he reminded himself resignedly; there could be no doubt of it, not after he’d watched the changing process with his own two eyes, even if his scientific mind rebelled at the mere idea of werewolves existing – looked healthier with dry fur, and he seemed to regain some of his strength too. As soon as he was dry and clean, he stood unsteadily and slowly picked his way over to Peter, where he lied down with a whine and rolled over, presenting his belly to him.
Peter had lived with dogs for long enough to understand the gesture. He couldn’t stop from feeling relieved as he crouched down and reached out, to pat Neal’s belly, where the fur was soft and silky, gently.
“Aw, honey,” Elizabeth grinned, the effect ruined by the yawn she couldn’t quite suppress.
Peter chuckled and straightened again. Cleaning up the bathroom didn’t take that long, and the time was spent teasing Neal, even if they weren’t quite sure if he could understand any of the words they said. He was seemingly listening, his ears turned toward them, whimpering and yipping occasionally, as if he wanted to take part in the conversation.
As soon as the bathroom was clean again, Peter sighed softly. Elizabeth understood him perfectly and immediately.
“Well,” she said. “If you’re going to stay up, remember to let Satchmo and Neal out.” She grinned and kissed him briefly.
Peter shook his head slightly as he watched her disappear in the bedroom.
“Neal,” he ordered, his lips curving into a small, satisfied smile. “Heel.”
The werewolf shook itself, but he followed Peter obediently and when Peter sat down on the couch, he sank down and curled up by his feet. After a brief moment, toenails clicked on the hardwood floor as Satchmo joined them and settled down next to Neal.
Well, Peter thought as he looked down at the tufts of light and dark fur around his feet, that explained why Satchmo had liked Neal from the first day on. He had realized that Neal was a kindred spirit or something like that.
One thing was for sure, he thought as he reached for the file he’d brought home with him and started reading, life with Neal Caffrey – who was licking his ankle right now – was never boring.
~end.
Author: Kathie
Fandom: White Collar
Disclaimer: Not mine, not true, blah.
Rating: FRT-13
Pairing: Peter/Elizabeth, can be read as Peter/Elizabeth/Neal
Summary: It was a disturbing sight, to see Neal Caffrey so much out of control.
Warnings: AU, werewolves
Word Count: 775
A/Ns: written for
au_bingo prompt Fantasy/Supernatural: Author's choice (werewolves). Title is a line from the song "In Control" by Die Toten Hosen.It was, Peter Burke thought while wrapping his arm around Elizabeth’s shoulder and pulling her close to his side, a discerning and somewhat disturbing sight, to see Neal Caffrey, who usually was so much in control of himself and his clothes, so much out of control.
Elizabeth shivered slightly – she, too, was staring at the spectacle going on in front of them, in the middle of their bathroom floor. Blood was speared over the tiled floor, scraps of fabric and cloth scattered around the heaving figure hunched down in the middle of the room.
If there had been any doubt that this was Neal, Peter realized while surveying the chaos in front of him, the part where the fedora was resting, unharmed, next to a big, black paw was giving him a big clue as to what had happened.
The knowledge that this was, indeed, Neal Caffrey, gave Peter the courage to take a closer look at the creature sitting in the middle of all the carnage.
It was covered in black fur that probably looked silky like Neal’s own hair, but was matted down and slick-looking right now. The creature had a big, massive chest, four huge paws and a strong head with an elongated snout. Its tail was long and looked strong enough to knock down small pieces of furniture.
The creature whimpered and twisted around to lick its shoulder briefly, and Peter caught a glimpse of long, sharp and dangerous-looking teeth. The creature moved slowly, with clumsy stiffness, as it tried to sit up and lick its fur clean.
Elizabeth took a step closer to the creature, and Peter felt a brief moment of blinding, paralyzing panic. No matter who was under the skin of that thing, even if it was Neal, if it hurt Elizabeth, Peter would shoot him with no remorse or hesitation at all.
He didn’t need to have worried. Bright blue eyes tracked her movements as Elizabeth slowly moved closer, the creature whimpered and ducked its head submissively.
“Oh, you poor thing,” Elizabeth cooed and reached for a towel. She sat down on the edge of the tub. “Come here,” she said, and the creature shuffled slowly closer to her.
Elizabeth started to rub it dry. The towel was soon stained red with what Peter quickly realized was blood.
Neal’s blood.
The creature – Neal, he reminded himself resignedly; there could be no doubt of it, not after he’d watched the changing process with his own two eyes, even if his scientific mind rebelled at the mere idea of werewolves existing – looked healthier with dry fur, and he seemed to regain some of his strength too. As soon as he was dry and clean, he stood unsteadily and slowly picked his way over to Peter, where he lied down with a whine and rolled over, presenting his belly to him.
Peter had lived with dogs for long enough to understand the gesture. He couldn’t stop from feeling relieved as he crouched down and reached out, to pat Neal’s belly, where the fur was soft and silky, gently.
“Aw, honey,” Elizabeth grinned, the effect ruined by the yawn she couldn’t quite suppress.
Peter chuckled and straightened again. Cleaning up the bathroom didn’t take that long, and the time was spent teasing Neal, even if they weren’t quite sure if he could understand any of the words they said. He was seemingly listening, his ears turned toward them, whimpering and yipping occasionally, as if he wanted to take part in the conversation.
As soon as the bathroom was clean again, Peter sighed softly. Elizabeth understood him perfectly and immediately.
“Well,” she said. “If you’re going to stay up, remember to let Satchmo and Neal out.” She grinned and kissed him briefly.
Peter shook his head slightly as he watched her disappear in the bedroom.
“Neal,” he ordered, his lips curving into a small, satisfied smile. “Heel.”
The werewolf shook itself, but he followed Peter obediently and when Peter sat down on the couch, he sank down and curled up by his feet. After a brief moment, toenails clicked on the hardwood floor as Satchmo joined them and settled down next to Neal.
Well, Peter thought as he looked down at the tufts of light and dark fur around his feet, that explained why Satchmo had liked Neal from the first day on. He had realized that Neal was a kindred spirit or something like that.
One thing was for sure, he thought as he reached for the file he’d brought home with him and started reading, life with Neal Caffrey – who was licking his ankle right now – was never boring.
~end.