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Nov. 19th, 2009

New Fic: Long-Distance Flirting (tentative title)

Story Title: Long-Distance Flirting
Author's Name: cestmoi01
Rating: PG-13 for implied sex
Character/Pairing: Peter/Elizabeth, Neal/Peter pre-slash
Spoilers/Warnings: none
Challenge: a prompt on the White Collar anonymous kink meme, collarkink
Notes: This story is my first time writing in the present tense, so any constructive criticism on that is especially welcome. I didn't manage to fulfill all of the prompt, either, so there may be a sequel to get to that. We'll see.
Archive: [info]wc_fanworks, [info]caffrey_burke, [info]whitecollarfic, and fanfiction.net.
Summary: the part of the prompt that I managed to fulfill - "Before Neal got caught, he made it a game to give Peter little gifts to show he was thinking about him - cuff links that showed up wrapped in Peter's personal safe; tie claps that appeared in Peter's office desk drawer (locked office desk drawer); funny postcards from places Neal had been appearing in Peter's inbox (not mailed, but "delivered"). Nothing too big or expensive - Neal wanted Peter to keep the gifts, not turn them in."

Long-Distance Flirting
by cestmoi01

The first time Agent Peter Burke finds a gift left for him by con artist Neal Caffrey, he freaks. Of course, he doesn’t call it “freaking,” but that’s what it is. It’s only been a week or two since he was assigned the case, but he’d immediately dug into it, trying to get a feel for this Caffrey character.

He may not pay a lot of attention to what goes into his personal safe – mostly exciting things like the really important bills, social security cards, marriage license and birth certificate, etc. – but he knows for a fact that he hadn’t left those cufflinks there. (Does he even own cufflinks?)

He knows even after just two weeks’ worth of research that this is just Caffrey’s style. At least, cufflinks are. The rest, though?

Peter freaks. If Caffrey had gotten in, did he take anything? (No.) Did he get anywhere else? (Peter checks his bank account, his gun safe, even the loose floor board under the hope chest in the master bedroom.) And what does it mean? Why him? (None of the previous agents on the case have mentioned receiving anything from Caffrey.)

Of course, there’s no proof that it’s from Caffrey. There are no fingerprints, no DNA evidence, no photos of him in the area – just an elderly woman’s remark about “that charming young man” who’d so “gallantly helped [her] across the street,” to quote from Peter’s interview notes. The cufflinks hadn’t even been bought with stolen money or a fake credit card; they’re legit, and as such are returned to Peter after the battery of tests he’d ordered on them have been completed.

Peter is entirely bewildered about what to do with them, and so the cufflinks are tossed in a drawer and forgotten about.


The second time Peter finds a gift from Caffrey, he’s on a case that has taken him across the country (Not Caffrey’s – he does work other cases, you know.) But he and the other agents are staying at the local Marriott Inn when they’re not working, and it’s the last place he expects to find Caffrey.

The tie clip laid precisely on his pillow suggests otherwise.

His indignant fury at Caffrey’s brashness carries him all the way down to check-in, where he questions the receptionists at length about anyone who might have been asking about his room or who seemed suspicious, though he knows almost as he’s begun that he won’t get anything helpful.

Eventually, he gives up, resolving to focus on the case at hand and to ponder Neal Caffrey when he gets back to New York.

Again, he sends the gift in for testing, and again it comes back clean.

This time, though, the gift remains on his bedside table – and if he never wears it, at least it isn’t locked away. Elizabeth sometimes finds him staring at it, often after the Caffrey case takes a puzzling turn.


The third time, it is Elizabeth who receives the gift.

It is one of those rare days that Peter has off but Elizabeth has to work, and he is standing bleary-eyed in the too-bright kitchen, waiting for his coffee to be ready when she bursts back in, all happy smiles and kisses. He quickly forgets about the small box she had clutched to her as they make their way back to the bedroom.

Afterwards, when their breathing has slowed down and Peter’s brain has engaged, he glances down at the dark-haired beauty he holds in his arms, and questions, “Not that I’m complaining, but what brought that on?”

That was a thank you, Peter,” Elizabeth says as she shifts a little to be able to look her husband in the eye.

Peter is confused. “For what?”

Elizabeth smiles a little at the adorable crinkle that appears on Peter’s forehead and rolls away to produce the box she had been holding when she entered the house; it was just like him to buy her a gift and then forget all about it.

Peter opens the box to find a small bottle of expensive perfume – Elizabeth’s favorite, but not one she can afford to wear often. A suspicion begins to grow in his mind, but he says nothing and waits until Elizabeth has returned to work from her “lunch break” to examine the box further.

Eventually, he succeeds in finding a short note from Caffrey: “I know what it’s like to want your woman to have the finer things in life. Hope she enjoys it, and happy anniversary to you both, NC.”

Perhaps it’s not the smartest move on Caffrey’s part, as it eventually leads to the FBI discovering Kate. And although Peter’s pretty sure the gift is legit like the cuff links and the tie clip, he can’t decide between being grateful or chagrined that Caffrey remembered his wedding anniversary when he’d forgotten.

He decides he must be more grateful because he never sends the perfume to be tested as he did the other gifts, and he begins to refer to Caffrey as “Neal” – as least in the privacy of his own mind.

He promises himself that he’ll tell Elizabeth who the perfume is really from someday – perhaps when she and Neal meet each other. Yeah, like that would ever happen.

Six years later, he regrets that thought.


After that, Peter receives all sorts of trinkets from Neal – postcards from cities in which he’s been suspected of running a con, a cup of coffee in his car after a particularly long night… There’s a pair of crystal goblets for his next wedding anniversary, but they’re mostly small gifts, recognizable only by the flourishing initials “NC” – and none of them arrive in the mail.

Some of the other agents in his department accuse Neal of taunting Peter, but Peter rather thinks it’s something else. Neal is old-fashioned in some regards, and it feels like he’s courting Peter – as if the con man is afraid of losing the agent’s full attention. Those times that Elizabeth catches him staring at the tie clip, Peter is often wondering if it’s loneliness or boredom that drives a man like Neal Caffrey to court the FBI agent in charge of catching him.

Then Peter does catch Neal, and the gifts stop, of course. Peter thinks he should probably be relieved, but he feels oddly like he’s lost something instead. He wonders if he hasn’t grown to crave Neal’s attention as much as Neal craves his.

He is inordinately pleased, then, when he receives a Christmas card with only the words, “Happy Holidays, NC.”


Nov. 14th, 2009

le journal de cestmoi01

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Oct. 28th, 2009

Fic Request Filled!

Many thanks to maisontvfor the quick response to my first "White Collar" fic request!  And it was an amazing response.

Read about Neal bothering the FBI here!

Oct. 27th, 2009

New Fic: "What Doesn't Itch"

Story Title:  "What Doesn't Itch"
Author's Name:  cestmoi01
Rating:  PG for one very slightly bad word
Spoilers/Warnings:  none
Challenge:  a prompt from jamjar:  "Neal has to pretend to be an FBI agent-- cheap suit and all."
Notes:  This story could be considered a companion fic/sequel to my first "White Collar" fic, which has recently been titled "A Well-Dressed Man."  As before, it's unbeta'd, so any constructive criticism is welcomed, especially in regards to characterization and the ending. I feel like it might be little out of character on Neal's part (although perhaps that could be attributed to slightly crackish humor?), and I’m not sure the ending is solid. Like I said, this hasn’t been beta’d, so I’m really relying on reader input here.  And I’m afraid a little threesome of Neal/Hat/everything else crept in there somehow.  Oh, and the title comes from Gilda Radner’s quote, “I base my fashion sense on what doesn’t itch.”
Archive:  wc_fanworks, caffrey_burke, whitecollarfic, fanfiction.net, and possibly whitecollared.
Summary:  from the prompt - "Neal has to pretend to be an FBI agent-- cheap suit and all."  Humorous angst ensues.

"What Doesn't Itch"
by cestmoi01

Neal cringed once again as he regarded his reflection. It was practically...criminal, really, the things he was forced to endure for the FBI some days. He was eyeing his reflection - almost warily - and wondering if there was anything he could do to improve the situation when he heard a knock on the bedroom door.

"Neal?" It was Peter. "What's taking you so long in there? It's only a suit - you wear one every day."

Only a suit? Only a suit? He stood frozen in silent horror at Peter's ignorance, the words stuck in his throat.

"Neal?" There was another knock. "I'm coming in - you had better be decent, Caffrey!"

Despite his seemingly harsh words, the FBI agent entered slowly - one might say almost cautiously - as if afraid of what he might find. He was obviously surprised to see Neal Caffrey, poised and statuesque - and completely dressed - staring wide-eyed at his own reflection.

A Neal Caffrey who wheeled around as soon as the other man entered and began speaking immediately – “C’mon, Peter, can’t you get me out of this? I can’t do this, really. How do you stand it?” He plucked at the clothes he was reluctantly wearing in a forlorn manner.

Peter couldn’t help it – he began to chuckle in amusement at Neal’s perceived predicament.

Neal spared a moment for a glare before stalking across the room to retrieve his hat. Returning to the mirror, he placed the hat on his head with his usual flourish. A look of dismay crossed his face, and he promptly took it off again.

“Peter!” his voice was full of righteous indignation. “I absolutely cannot wear this thing! It doesn’t go with my hat. Everything goes with my hat!”

Peter was still chuckling as he limped further into the room. Neal eyed his injury almost hatefully.

“You are not allowed to get shot ever again,” he muttered.

“Hey! I give the orders around here,” Peter said, “and the orders are that you will take my place at this meeting. That means having to look the part, and that means having to wear that suit.”

Neal seemed to be thinking this over. “Have you ever considered that you might be so grumpy and irritable because of the suits you wear? I really think that if you wore proper clothes, you’d—”

Peter frowned at being called “grumpy and irritable,” then gave his head a sharp shake and interrupted. “Neal, you won’t distract me. You will wear that suit – don’t give me that look! And besides, FBI agents don’t wear Armani hats, or whatever the heck this is, so you can’t wear it anyway.”

That said, he snatched the hat away from Neal, placed it on his own head – he’d always secretly wanted to do that, but he wasn’t ever going to admit it out loud – and ambled back out of the room.

Neal’s shout followed him into the hallway. “I expect to get that back in pristine condition, Peter!”


Oct. 26th, 2009

New Fic: A Well-Dressed Man

Story Title:  A Well-Dressed Man
Author's Name:  cestmoi01
Rating:  G/PG
Fandom:  White Collar
Spoilers/Warnings:  None, except vague ones for the show's general plot.  (If you know Neal's a criminal and Peter's and FBI agent, you're good.)
Challenge:  a prompt from verselle:  "I had this thought last night about Neal dressing Pete in a snazzy suit and doing his tie all crowded into Pete and maybe ending with a slow kiss? Perhaps even just on the cheek?"
Notes:  This was actually written in about half an hour in-between classes.  So at the moment it's not been beta'd.  And since we've only had one episode so far, I'm not confident on the characterizations.  Any polite suggestions on that subject or for a title are quite welcome.
Archive:  wc_fanworks, caffrey_burke, whitecollarfic, and fanfiction.net
Summary:  "It was Neal's turn to sigh, in fond exasperation at Peter's fashion sense - or lack thereof."  Peter has to get dressed up; Neal helps.  Not as racy as it sounds - just a little bit of humorous fluff that could be defined as friendship, pre-slash, or slash, depending on your lenses of choice.

A Well-Dressed Man
by cestmoi01

Peter sighed once more; Neal had given up on counting them a week before, there had been so many.

"How did I get myself into this again?" he asked as he stared at his reflection in the floor-length mirror.

Neal hovered - if he could be described as doing anything so mundane - scrutinizing the FBI agent whom he had dragged out and forced to try on various suits of different cuts and shades.

"It's the price of being the best, Peter, people are going to recognize you." If there was a hint of pride in his voice - well, he did consider Peter to be his FBI agent.

"I know-" another sigh "-but why couldn't I have worn my usual suit? I like that one. I'm comfortable in it."

It was Neal's turn to sigh, in fond exasperation at Peter's fashion sense - or lack thereof. "Because. You can't wear the same suit to a formal dinner with the head of the Federal Bureau of Investigation that you wear every day to catch criminals. It just isn't done."

"And you would know, would you?" A raised eyebrow.

A smirk.

Another sigh, "Fine. This one will do."

"'Will do?' That's it? All my hard work, hours of searching - made difficult by you - and that's all you have to say?"

"Why? What else should I say?" He just loved riling the conman up, and took pleasure in the younger man's blank stare.

But, in his mercurial fashion, it passed quickly, and Neal was grinning again, fingers deftly twirling that damnably distracting hat.

Peter had only a moment of confusion before Neal leaned in, placed a quick peck on the agent's cheek, hat back on his head, hands in his pockets, and strolled casually out the shop door. The bells' soft jangling as he left snapped Peter out of his momentary stupor.

"Hey, wait! Come back here! You're gonna set off the alarm!" he cried out sternly as he realized that he couldn't let Neal get too far away.

He took a few short steps to follow, realized he was still wearing a suit that hadn't been paid for, turned around again, checked the tag, did a double-take and swore.

Then he smiled evilly.

This was going to come out of Caffrey's $700-allowance for months.


 (This ficlet can also be read here, where it was originally posted in response to the prompt.)

Sep. 2nd, 2009

New Fic: Tea & Compromise

Story Title:  Tea & Compromise

Author’s Name:  cestmoi01

Rating: G

Character/Pairing:  Kirk&Spock gen or Kirk/Spock pre-slash

Fandom/Universe:  Star Trek/TOS

Spoilers/Warnings:  none

Challenge:  [info]trek_exchange, round one
Notes:  This was written for round one of [info]trek_exchange, for [info]wren10514. The prompt was "Kirk/Spock; tea, sympathy, compromise." I had intended for this to be just the beginning of a much larger piece, but it was already so late that I decided to just post this. I'm afraid that as a result, I didn't quite get to the slash aspect that the prompter requested, but that may be fixed with a series of sequels. For now, though, this can be read by itself as gen or Kirk/Spock pre-slash.
Word Count:  718
Archive:  [info]kirkspock,[info]spock_kirk, [info]tosfic, [info]trekfics, ksarchive.com, fanfiction.net; any others welcome, just please ask
Summary:  He waited for a moment, leaning against the doorjamb with his arms crossed against his chest, watching, and fancied he could almost see the cogs turning in the Vulcan’s sharp mind, weighing the pros and cons of such an action.”  The beginning of a legendary friendship.  Jim’s POV, somewhat introspective, pre-series.




Tea & Compromise
by cestmoi01

Captain James T. Kirk strode – because he never could get the hang of simply walking – down the hallways of the Enterprise, a soft, contented smile hanging at the corners of his lips and hovering in his eyes. Remaining connected to his lovely lady, his beautiful Enterprise, by a finger or two gently brushing along her sturdy walls and bulkheads, Jim’s obvious preoccupation with his new rank and the acquisition of his dream ship – and he doubted he would ever get over the fact that she was finally his! – was an excellent mask for his covert glances at the man keeping pace beside him.

Spock, his new Science and First Officer, who walked alongside him with his hands clasped behind his back, bore the serene countenance, pointed ears, and angled eyebrows distinctive of the Vulcan race. From this, Jim knew that the other man was probably frustratingly logical, and possibly deathly, incessantly, serious. Jim, however, preferred not to judge someone on the stereotypes of his, her, or its species – no matter how often such stereotypes held true – hence his observation of the other man. From his file, he already knew that Spock was not quite your average Vulcan, having a human mother and being one of the first to join Starfleet, and Jim was curious to see if these differences manifested themselves in the other man’s actions – if Spock would be discernably different from the, admittedly few, other Vulcans he had worked with.

Jim hoped so. The two of them would have to work closely together, after all, and while he knew that theoretically, Spock’s logic and his own gut instinct would play off each other well, he also knew that if both of them were unbending in their attitudes, tensions would be high. And Jim wanted to run a tight ship, not an uptight ship. Well, he was willing to compromise, at least, to try to meet the other man halfway so that they could get along. Command was a lonely thing, and there were few people the Captain could let his guard down around. The First Officer being one of them, Jim hoped that he and Spock might do better than get along – might, in fact, become good friends over the course of the five-year voyage. Well, time would tell, but there was no reason he couldn’t start now.

Spock had conveniently ended the tour of the Enterprise outside the Captain’s quarters, and there the two of them stood – alone in the corridor, each with an arm outstretched to press the button that would open the door, staring at each other as though momentarily frozen in time. Then Jim blinked, Spock withdrew his hand, and Jim pressed the button. He stepped through the doorway, paused, and turned back.

“Would you like to come in for a drink? Perhaps a game of chess?”

Spock blinked.

Jim took it as an expression of surprise – or at least as much of a one as you could ever get from a Vulcan – and was inordinately pleased with himself. He waited for a moment, leaning against the doorjamb with his arms crossed against his chest, watching, and fancied he could almost see the cogs turning in the Vulcan’s sharp mind, weighing the pros and cons of such an action.

“C’mon, Mister Spock.” He gestured, grinning, towards the interior of his quarters – which he hadn’t even seen yet – with a toss of his head. “I don’t want to make it an order, but I do want to get to know my First Officer.”

And… there. Jim could see it – the lift of an eyebrow, the slight downturn of the lips, and a lightly furrowed brow; the moment when the Vulcan compromised. Humor the strange human, he imagined Spock thinking. Perhaps he will not bother me later if I give him this now.

Not likely, Jim thought as he ushered the Vulcan inside, still grinning. He wasn’t going to let this potential friend get away.

So. His turn to compromise, then. Spock wouldn’t want anything alcoholic to drink, and he didn’t have any Vulcan beverages on hand. However, there was that package from his mom…

“How about a cup of tea?”


Jul. 22nd, 2009

Fic Request Filled!

Alright, there's been a response to another one of my requests, thanks to the awesome pathstotread!

Check out Jim and Bones being outed by the cute Joanna right here!

Jul. 10th, 2009

Fic Request Filled!

Yay, another st_xi_kink prompt has been answered, this time by the awesome flit_st_fanfic!

Click here for sweet Jim/Bones dancing...

ETA 7/12/09:  There's been a second answer to this prompt from the awesome kain_was_here!  So far, it's incredibly sweet.

Jim and Bones ballroom dancing.

Jul. 8th, 2009

Fic Request Filled!

I've lost track of how many requests I've made over at st_xi_kink, but another one was filled recently by some lovely anon.

Click here for some Enterprise-as-family humor!

Jun. 30th, 2009

Fic Request Filled!

I'm up to about 10 requests now, I should think, and my most recent one was filled, almost immediately, by dagnirovanaliel!

Click here to read Jim/Bones with angst about Kirk's scars.

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