White Collar Fic - The Throw Away
Aug. 19th, 2011 10:03 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
elrhiarhodanTitle: The Throw Away
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
elrhiarhodan
Fandom: White Collar
Rating: G
Characters/Pairings: Satchmo, Neal, Elizabeth, Peter and introducing Bruce, Robert the
Spoilers: None
Warnings/Enticements/Triggers: Schmoop of the highest order
Word Count: ~1000
Summary: Satchmo isn’t sure he wants to welcome a new addition to the family. Consider this part of the Vinegar Hill continuum.
A/N: No beta. All mistakes are mine and mine alone. For my dearest friendcoffeethyme4me.
__________________
Satchmo never expected this. He never wanted it and he certainly didn’t need it.
At first, he thought the stinky little thing was a toy. Then a bad joke – like when daddy would take him to the park and just pretend to throw the ball.
But it wasn’t a toy and it wasn’t a joke. It was another dog. Like him, but smaller.
Mr. Neal brought it home. It had been raining out and Mr. Neal was wet. That surprised Satchmo, because he knows that Mr. Neal doesn’t like that – he’s as fussy as the neighbor’s cat (which Satchmo likes to chase through the sprinklers). When Mr. Neal is wet, he sort of smells strange – not bad, but different. This time, though, wet Mr. Neal smelled more than different. He smelled like wet dog.
The thing he was holding so carefully didn’t seem to be moving (that was why he thought maybe it was a new toy), but Mommy came rushing out and started making strange noises. Well, not so strange – they were sort of like the noises that she made when she was upstairs in the forbidden room with Daddy and Mr. Neal. Only not so high pitched.
****
Elizabeth was cooking dinner when Neal came in, holding what looked like a dirty white snowball. It was late August, and while global warming was playing havoc with the climate, it wasn’t that bad, yet.
“What is it?”
“A dog – someone tossed it from a car.” She rarely heard such anger in Neal’s voice.
El’s heart and sympathy went into overdrive. “Someone just tossed it out – it didn’t jump?”
Neal shook his head, barely concealing his fury. “No – the car was stopped, the window rolled down and this little dog was thrown out. The car sped off. If I didn’t rescue it - him - he would have been killed. This was right on DeKalb.”
El got one of Satchmo’s towels and Neal put the shivering creature on the table. It looked up at both of them, blinking and piteous.
“Did you get the license plate?”
“Yeah” Neal said with a certain degree of satisfaction. “A black Mercedes, custom grill work. I’ve already texted the number to Peter and asked him to check it out.”
They wiped the little dog dry and El started to groom him. He was adorable and very well behaved. She got two small plastic bowl, filled one with water and the other with some of Satchmo’s kibble. The animal ate quickly and neatly. He went back to the towel, nosed it around just a little bit, found a comfortable space and went to sleep.
“What are you going to do with him?”
Neal looked at her, and she found it impossible to resist him, complete with damp and mussed hair, late day beard and small, pleading smile. “Keep him. I’ve always wanted a dog of my own. I have plenty of room at my loft for this little guy…”
“But you spend a lot of time here, and you shouldn’t leave him alone so much.”
The both turned to look at Satchmo, who had settled down on his bed with his back to them, apparently disgusted.
“He’s not going to be happy about this. And Peter doesn’t particularly like small dogs.”
“They’re both big ol’ softies. If you don’t think I can charm them into accepting Bruce…”
“Bruce?”
“Yeah – Bruce. As in ‘Robert the…,’ I’ve always loved the story of how he overcame the British and threw them out of Scotland. But anyway, if I can’t charm your husband and dog into accepting this little guy, I’ll give you foot rubs every night for a month.”
“That’s not a particular hardship for you, Neal. You like my feet.”
He grinned at her. “That I do. Then think of an appropriate forfeit.”
El bit her lip. “Got it.” She snapped her fingers and Bruce looked up from his towel. “You have to dance with Bitsy Cunningham at the Walker Gallery event next week.”
Neal groaned. Bitsy, an octogenarian fixture on the New York social scene, had developed an almost unrelenting passion for Neal – or more precisely – Neal’s ass. Whenever she saw him, she practically mowed everyone down to get to him. Her fingers may be arthritic, but they were stills strong, and she delighted in pinching his butt, hard. If he danced with her, he’d be black and blue for days.
But Neal looked down at Bruce, who had gone back to sleep with his head on his paws. He knew that even if he had to spend the whole weekend with the aged and obnoxious Bitsy, it would be worth it.
****
It turned out that Neal didn’t need to work any particular magic on Peter. He was appalled that someone had just tossed the little dog away like so much fast food trash. And Bruce, immediately recognizing that Peter was top dog in the house, behaved perfectly. Better than Neal, was Peter’s comment.
Besides, he was Neal’s dog. And if Neal didn’t mind white hairs on his dark suits, it wasn’t his place to say “no.”
As for Satchmo?
Bruce was as much a dog pleaser as a people pleaser. When he was here, he let the big guy get to the table scraps first, he shared his toys and knew just how to scratch that itch that Satchmo couldn’t reach without hurting himself.
Everyone, except for the neighbor’s cat, was happy. Bruce and Satchmo had quite a bit of fun that summer tag teaming the poor little thing through the sprinklers.
FIN
Author:
elrhiarhodanFandom: White Collar
Rating: G
Characters/Pairings: Satchmo, Neal, Elizabeth, Peter and introducing Bruce, Robert the
Spoilers: None
Warnings/Enticements/Triggers: Schmoop of the highest order
Word Count: ~1000
Summary: Satchmo isn’t sure he wants to welcome a new addition to the family. Consider this part of the Vinegar Hill continuum.
A/N: No beta. All mistakes are mine and mine alone. For my dearest friend
coffeethyme4me.Satchmo never expected this. He never wanted it and he certainly didn’t need it.
At first, he thought the stinky little thing was a toy. Then a bad joke – like when daddy would take him to the park and just pretend to throw the ball.
But it wasn’t a toy and it wasn’t a joke. It was another dog. Like him, but smaller.
Mr. Neal brought it home. It had been raining out and Mr. Neal was wet. That surprised Satchmo, because he knows that Mr. Neal doesn’t like that – he’s as fussy as the neighbor’s cat (which Satchmo likes to chase through the sprinklers). When Mr. Neal is wet, he sort of smells strange – not bad, but different. This time, though, wet Mr. Neal smelled more than different. He smelled like wet dog.
The thing he was holding so carefully didn’t seem to be moving (that was why he thought maybe it was a new toy), but Mommy came rushing out and started making strange noises. Well, not so strange – they were sort of like the noises that she made when she was upstairs in the forbidden room with Daddy and Mr. Neal. Only not so high pitched.
****
Elizabeth was cooking dinner when Neal came in, holding what looked like a dirty white snowball. It was late August, and while global warming was playing havoc with the climate, it wasn’t that bad, yet.
“What is it?”
“A dog – someone tossed it from a car.” She rarely heard such anger in Neal’s voice.
El’s heart and sympathy went into overdrive. “Someone just tossed it out – it didn’t jump?”
Neal shook his head, barely concealing his fury. “No – the car was stopped, the window rolled down and this little dog was thrown out. The car sped off. If I didn’t rescue it - him - he would have been killed. This was right on DeKalb.”
El got one of Satchmo’s towels and Neal put the shivering creature on the table. It looked up at both of them, blinking and piteous.
“Did you get the license plate?”
“Yeah” Neal said with a certain degree of satisfaction. “A black Mercedes, custom grill work. I’ve already texted the number to Peter and asked him to check it out.”
They wiped the little dog dry and El started to groom him. He was adorable and very well behaved. She got two small plastic bowl, filled one with water and the other with some of Satchmo’s kibble. The animal ate quickly and neatly. He went back to the towel, nosed it around just a little bit, found a comfortable space and went to sleep.
“What are you going to do with him?”
Neal looked at her, and she found it impossible to resist him, complete with damp and mussed hair, late day beard and small, pleading smile. “Keep him. I’ve always wanted a dog of my own. I have plenty of room at my loft for this little guy…”
“But you spend a lot of time here, and you shouldn’t leave him alone so much.”
The both turned to look at Satchmo, who had settled down on his bed with his back to them, apparently disgusted.
“He’s not going to be happy about this. And Peter doesn’t particularly like small dogs.”
“They’re both big ol’ softies. If you don’t think I can charm them into accepting Bruce…”
“Bruce?”
“Yeah – Bruce. As in ‘Robert the…,’ I’ve always loved the story of how he overcame the British and threw them out of Scotland. But anyway, if I can’t charm your husband and dog into accepting this little guy, I’ll give you foot rubs every night for a month.”
“That’s not a particular hardship for you, Neal. You like my feet.”
He grinned at her. “That I do. Then think of an appropriate forfeit.”
El bit her lip. “Got it.” She snapped her fingers and Bruce looked up from his towel. “You have to dance with Bitsy Cunningham at the Walker Gallery event next week.”
Neal groaned. Bitsy, an octogenarian fixture on the New York social scene, had developed an almost unrelenting passion for Neal – or more precisely – Neal’s ass. Whenever she saw him, she practically mowed everyone down to get to him. Her fingers may be arthritic, but they were stills strong, and she delighted in pinching his butt, hard. If he danced with her, he’d be black and blue for days.
But Neal looked down at Bruce, who had gone back to sleep with his head on his paws. He knew that even if he had to spend the whole weekend with the aged and obnoxious Bitsy, it would be worth it.
****
It turned out that Neal didn’t need to work any particular magic on Peter. He was appalled that someone had just tossed the little dog away like so much fast food trash. And Bruce, immediately recognizing that Peter was top dog in the house, behaved perfectly. Better than Neal, was Peter’s comment.
Besides, he was Neal’s dog. And if Neal didn’t mind white hairs on his dark suits, it wasn’t his place to say “no.”
As for Satchmo?
Bruce was as much a dog pleaser as a people pleaser. When he was here, he let the big guy get to the table scraps first, he shared his toys and knew just how to scratch that itch that Satchmo couldn’t reach without hurting himself.
Everyone, except for the neighbor’s cat, was happy. Bruce and Satchmo had quite a bit of fun that summer tag teaming the poor little thing through the sprinklers.
