elrhiarhodan

Title: Evolution Not Fully Understood
Author: elrhiarhodan
Fandom: White Collar
Rating: G
Characters/Pairings: Peter Burke (as a human), Elizabeth Burke (as a tiger), Neal Caffrey (as a seal point Siamese cat), Mozzie (human and as something completely different), Satchmo (thankfully, as a dog). Implied Peter/Elizabeth/Neal (when they're human).
Spoilers: Seriously?
Warnings/Enticements/Triggers: Crack
Word Count: ~700
Beta Credit: I wouldn't dare inflict this on any of my friends.
Summary: Apparently, Mozzie lost track of the second full moon that month. And he keeps experimenting with his bee pollen concoctions. It's up to Peter to take care of things.

A/N: - Although Peter is a were-lammergeyer, he transforms at the dark of the moon, not during a full moon. Title from a certain Wikipedia entry.

Also, prompted by the ever-enabling sinfulslasher. She is, as always, to blame for the utter ridiculousness of these stories.

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Peter scrubbed his face, stared at the mammal asleep on the sofa and wished he could ask his wife for some guidance.

Except his wife was currently a very large tiger intent on licking the fur off of the seal point Siamese also known as Neal Caffrey. A few weeks ago, both Neal and El had been accidentally exposed to a rather fresh and potent batch of catnip. Even though he wouldn't own up to it, it was obviously Mozzie's fault, because who else would plant that around the Rai stone? The herb somehow forced both to transform into their respective feline forms, and while Peter had to admit that watching his wife and his lover get stoned and blow bubbles, it was a little unnerving too. At least neither cat got amorous, because Peter doubted that Neal-as-cat could satisfy tiger-El.

But since then, whenever El felt the urge to get furry and toothy, Neal did, too. For a few hours on a Sunday afternoon, they played together in the garden. El was generous enough to let Neal chase her tail, provided he let her exercise her mildly maternal needs. So they played and groomed while Peter watched, bored out of his mind.

At least until Moz came over to deliver the beef. While the two cats consumed the ultra-expensive raw mean, he and Moz would talk and drink and play a few games of chess. Or, if it was basketball season, watch the Knicks loose. The little guy had a surprising affinity for round ball.

Not only was Peter grateful for Moz's companionship, he owed him for taking care of El's detritus (to put it politely). Apparently the garden at Friday was suffering from deer depredations, and tiger dropping did a good job keeping those voracious herbivores away.

But today was not one of the days when the two of them would kick back with vino and the chess board. No, today was the second full moon of the month and rising early, and for some reason, Moz seemed to have lost track of that fact. He'd handed Peter a bottle of a decent Italian red, gone out to the garden to feed the cats and came back inside, muttering about that "fake socialist, Bill DeBlasio", and sat down.

Only to start to shrink.

Peter sighed when he realized what was happening and went to the refrigerator to get the tube of pesto that they kept on hand for just these situations. He had to admit that it was fun watching the tiny little albino chinchilla chasing the tip of the tube like a coke addict after a eight-ball. At least Moz never remembered the details of his time as something small and furry, or if he did, ne never said anything about how his hosts like to tease him with the green stuff.

At least El and Neal were still outside. The cats had finished eating and Neal was again trapped under El's massive paw, submitting to her endless licking. Peter almost felt sorry for him, but the operative word was "almost".

He came back into the living room and expected to find Chinchilla Mozzie curled up in his clothes and fast asleep. It was still daylight and like real chinchillas, Moz in this state was quick to fall asleep unless tempted by the scent of pesto in a tube. But to Peter's shock, there was no were-chinchilla sleeping in a pile of artfully worn-out clothes.

Instead, he found something that resembled a small, ugly and very hairy baby with an enormous nose, a full set of claws and quite possibly prehensile toes. Peter stared at the creature, which stared back at him before slowly closing its eyes and falling asleep.

He shook his head. "Moz, you really need to stop experimenting with bee pollen. And the EPA won't be too happy when they find out that you've been importing bees from Australia."

It was likely that none of the mammals in the household, not even Satchmo, were listening to him.



FIN