Fandom: White Collar
Characters: Neal, Mozzie, Peter,
Warning/genre: Silly, Drunk, friendship, episode related
Author's Notes: This ficlet was written for leesa_perrie
Word Count:~ 880
Disclaimer: Characters are not mine…
Summary: Peter finds Neal and Mozzie drunk in Neal´s loft.
‘You know, whiskey comes from a Gaelic word mean… What?’
Mozzie realizes Neal is no longer focused.
Neal snorts, ‘You said "Gaelic."’
‘A Gaelic word meaning "water of life."’
‘Oh. Now I understand that.’
‘Yeah, and tomorrow morning, we are gonna find that name painfully ironic.’
‘Mmm, a touch more Ceylon cinnamon.’
‘Oh, come on. It's perfect. I think. You just want me to keep drinking so that I'll talk about my father.’
Leave it up to Neal to read between the lines, even intoxicated.
‘I admit nothing unless it's working.’
‘I don't know whether to be mad or impressed that my own dad conned me.’
‘Well, at least you learned where you inherited that particular skill from.’
‘I keep thinking I should have known it was him. That even after all these years, a man should know his own father when he's right in front of him. And here he is, yet you seem hesitant to seize that opportunity. To do what, Moz? Go out in the backyard and throw a baseball? He doesn't get to come back here and make up for lost time.’
‘This is ready.’
‘Okay. So, we just add the coloring to our faux Shackleton, and -- We're not gonna add the coloring. Then it will obviously be a fake. Which is part of your plan. Did you tell me that already?’
‘On the seventh tasting. Look, Flynn is looking for a counterfeiter, right? So we have to prove to him that we can make something that's close to the real thing.’
‘Without making it appear that you just used the real thing.’
‘Ding, ding, ding, ding, ding.’
‘Ah, so, once you convince him of your skill, then what's the plan?’
‘Peter wants to take Flynn down for counterfeiting. For counterfeiting, Moz. Ellen deserves more than her killer getting a slap on the wrist. So one way or another I'm gonna make sure he goes down for murder.’
Moz looks in silence at Neal and refills his glass, which Neal chucks down with a grimace. It stopped being about taste testing a long time ago.
When there is a knock on the door, Neal wants to get up, but his legs feel leaded down so he stays seated while Moz starts laughing realizing Neal is really wasted. Neal doesn´t make any indication to open the door so Mozzie calls out that the door is open, expecting June for a taste testing.
Mozzie sobers up a bit when Peter walks in.
Neal gives him a thousand dollar smile, ‘Peeeeteeeer’, come for a taste. We are done, the whiskey is perfect!’
‘Neal, you are wasted. Can you still do the job?’
‘Ah, Peter, don´t kill my buzz, will you? My dad is doing enough of a job at it by himself, I don´t need a stepdad as well? OK?’
‘Mozzie, how are we to get the bottles of whiskey? Neal is drunk.’
Mozzie gives Neal a skeptical look and agrees.
‘Help me up, and I will take care of it.’
Peter pulls Mozzie out of the chair and while he walks towards the kitchen, he hears something about being strong. Where did he hear that before?
‘Look at him Mozzie, Neal won´t be able to work tomorrow, he has to go undercover to a micro-distillery tasting for event planners and liquor distributors. With the counterfeit whiskey you were supposed to make, not drink, I made add.’
‘Relax suit, I gave him prickly pear extract before we started drinking, so he should be alright tomorrow, it cuts the handover symptoms with about half.’
‘Look, I will prepare Neal something to eat, we let him drink water, and together with some ibuprofen tomorrow morning, he should be fine.’
Mozzie is unloading Neal´s fridge which doesn´t hold much, but he can still make something tasty. He starts chopping up veggies and Neal stumbles into the kitchen.
‘STOP! Moz, stop. What are you doing?’
‘What are you talking about Neal?’
Mozzie eyes Neal, who has to stabilizes himself at the kitchen counter to stay upright.
‘Look at them.’
Mozzie and Peter both stare at Neal, who isn´t making any sense at the moment, but looks very seriously.
‘Why do I need to stop?’
‘I really have to do everything myself, don´t I. Let me be the responsible adult.’ Neal slurs.
He picks up one of the carrots Mozzie is chopping and puts it in a bag with baby carrots, grinning accomplished at Mozzie and Peter who are still staring at him. Neal picks up the bag and puts them in the fridge.
‘They need adult supervision,’ Neal says as if that explains everything.
But before they can say anything, his attention is drawn by his bed and he zig zags across the room, letting himself fall on the bed and by the time Peter reaches him, he is already out and snoring.
‘Well, I hope that pear juice works, because you are not getting anything in him tonight.’
Mozzie nods and puts everything away. When he opens the fridge and sees the bag of carrots he giggles, Neal is so right, they do need adult supervision. When he turns and sees Peter´s unimpressed face, he sobers up and gets to work.
There is Whiskey to be made.