elrhiarhodan

Title: A Friend To Predators
Author: elrhiarhodan
Fandom: White Collar
Rating: G
Characters/Pairings: Mozzie, Peter Burke, Elizabeth Burke, Neal Caffrey
Spoilers: None
Warnings/Enticements/Triggers: Crack
Word Count: ~400
Beta Credit: None
Summary: Neal frequently turns into a seal point Siamese. At the full moon, Peter becomes a bone-eating vulture. Whenever she wants, Elizabeth transforms into a tiger – the big furry kind with teeth and claws. So, what does Mozzie become?

A/N: Thank you again to my enabler-in-chief, sinfulslasher, who sent me the GIF at the bottom of the story with a single word in the subject line: "Mozzie?" And thanks to her, this is only of many stories to come in the new 'verse, "The On-Going Adventures of the White Collar Were-Creatures".

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It wasn't fair, damn it!

His best friend and partner in crime, his most teachable student, Neal Caffrey, turned into an elegant Siamese cat on a regular basis. He stole panties, captured laser targets, drooled from too much catnip and got endless cuddles from the Suits when he wasn't face-deep in his own furry groin, licking his balls.

At least once a month, Peter – the Suit – soared through the canyons of New York as a lammergeyer, a bone-eating vulture. He'd feast on the bones that he – Mozzie – arranged for his dining pleasure. It wasn't that easy getting whole leg bones from the butcher for Peter to drop onto the stone outcroppings along the Taconic. There just weren't too many meat packing plants left in the metropolitan area. He had to go to New Jersey, and do someone a few favors to get them.

And of course, Elizabeth frequently turned into a were-tiger of fearsome and beautiful proportions. Like Neal, her transformations weren't dictated by the phases of moon, but she did require a lot of red meat. Preferably filet mignon. From waygu-raised beef. Which meant more favors he had to do for Pat from New Jersey.

And for his pains, his attention to his friends' needs, he got his own transformation.

He didn't turn into some splendid predator. A wolf would have been nice, or even a big dog with a bite like a steel trap. Or maybe a bear. Or even a snapping turtle. But if he couldn't be a predator, then maybe he could transform into an alpaca with luxurious eyelashes and the power to spit in someone's eye from thirty yards away.

But no, he didn't transform into a bear or a wolf or a snapping turtle, or even an alpaca with deadly aim. When the moon went dark, he changed into an albino chinchilla, a small furry creature with absolutely no defenses and an unholy love for pesto-in-a-tube. And if that wasn't bad enough, he left his poops all over the place.

At least he transformed on nights when his predator friends were in their human state and could take care of him.

And feed him the food of the gods.



FIN