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crack_van2010-10-31 12:28 am
an-sceal.livejournal.com) wrote in crack_van2010-10-31 12:28 am
Entry tags:
Nightmares by ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
hoosierbitch
Fandom: WHITE COLLAR
Pairing: Gen
Length: 3615
Author on LJ:hoosierbitch
Author Website: Works on AO3
Why this must be read: I enjoyed the contrast between Neal's dreams and his reality, both during the flashes of his past and the current mess he finds himself in when he and Peter are kidnapped. The hurt somewhat outweighs the comfort in this one, at least until the end, and the blending of that pain and the backdrop of Neal's nightmares gives this story the urgent feel of a fever dream. Some of the lines read like poetry, and I think Neal would appreciate that.
When the FBI first started chasing him, Neal dreamed Peter like a dance. A slow waltz, sometimes, or an Argentine tango, depending on how close to his trail Peter was. He'd seen Peter from afar, and dreamed he would look stunning all dressed up in a tuxedo asking Neal if he'd like to dance.
Kate had laughed when Neal told her about it. "You want to dance with Mr. Tall Dark and Hates You?"
"He doesn't hate me," Neal had admonished. "He wants me."
"Not more than I do," Kate had said, pushing him back into the mattress like it was a challenge.
The reality of Peter was very different. Neal hadn't dreamed Peter's suits or his sense of humor, hadn't dreamed the long hours or rigid moral code. He hadn't dreamed Peter's wife. The reality of Peter is that he'd look horribly awkward in a tuxedo, and step all over Neal's toes if they tried to waltz.
Sometimes, after Moz had gone back to the hole he called home and June's staff had all departed and if he had no urgent cases to work on, Neal would lie awake and think about the way Peter had smiled at him in his dreams, and the way he smiled now.
Nightmares
Pairing: Gen
Length: 3615
Author on LJ:
hoosierbitchAuthor Website: Works on AO3
Why this must be read: I enjoyed the contrast between Neal's dreams and his reality, both during the flashes of his past and the current mess he finds himself in when he and Peter are kidnapped. The hurt somewhat outweighs the comfort in this one, at least until the end, and the blending of that pain and the backdrop of Neal's nightmares gives this story the urgent feel of a fever dream. Some of the lines read like poetry, and I think Neal would appreciate that.
When the FBI first started chasing him, Neal dreamed Peter like a dance. A slow waltz, sometimes, or an Argentine tango, depending on how close to his trail Peter was. He'd seen Peter from afar, and dreamed he would look stunning all dressed up in a tuxedo asking Neal if he'd like to dance.
Kate had laughed when Neal told her about it. "You want to dance with Mr. Tall Dark and Hates You?"
"He doesn't hate me," Neal had admonished. "He wants me."
"Not more than I do," Kate had said, pushing him back into the mattress like it was a challenge.
The reality of Peter was very different. Neal hadn't dreamed Peter's suits or his sense of humor, hadn't dreamed the long hours or rigid moral code. He hadn't dreamed Peter's wife. The reality of Peter is that he'd look horribly awkward in a tuxedo, and step all over Neal's toes if they tried to waltz.
Sometimes, after Moz had gone back to the hole he called home and June's staff had all departed and if he had no urgent cases to work on, Neal would lie awake and think about the way Peter had smiled at him in his dreams, and the way he smiled now.
Nightmares