Excellence of Acting, White Collar, PG-15
Sep. 15th, 2010 06:15 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
veronicasleepsTitle: Excellence of Acting
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
veronicasleeps
Rating: PG-15
Characters/Pairings: Diana/Girl!Neal
Word count: ~2200
Warnings/Spoilers: Girl!Neal, some OOCness, AU
Feedback: So freaking appreciated! Really, I'll take anything, even flames. Yes, I'm that pathetic. <3
Summary: The hat is going to stay put, and nobody, who doesn't already know, will realize that she has just been released from prison.
Notes: Based on a prompt at![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
collarkink . But most of the kink got lost, somehow. (If you don't count Neal being a woman a kink.)
“Life's like a play; it's not the length but the excellence of the acting that matters”
~Seneca
+
Diana isn't thrilled to be picking up Peter's newest acquisition, and she certainly isn't happy to do so on such short notice, especially as this is her first job back in New York and she has had no time to prepare, no time to even read the file on this criminal mastermind, but she is a good agent, a good second in command and she knows that that means sometimes having to do things like these.
So she gets up way to early to pick up this Caffrey character, allegedly one of the most talented con artists this side of the millennium, and she drives straight to the address that Peter has given her over the phone.
"I'm really sorry about this, Diana." Peter had said. But Elizabeth is sick, and he has to stay home to take care of her. "I'm sure you'll have no problems. It might be best if you don't let Neal talk too much, the Caffrey charm is supposed to be irresistible." Great. If there's one thing Diana dislikes, it's straight men hitting on her. Especially straight men who thought themselves irresistible.
When she pulls up at the address the GPS has led her to, she checks the machine twice, because this is definitely not a shabby hotel, and that's what she was expecting.
In fact it's not a hotel at all, and shabby would be the last word that she'd use to describe this house. Old, yes. Shabby, absolutely not. And she can't help but wonder how Caffrey had managed to get himself situated like this.
The door is opened by a butler, and Diana is led to a parlor and served the best coffee she has drunk in what seems like forever.
+
"You can do this, Neal. It's just the FBI." Her voice isn't shaking, not at all. "Just take it one day at a time."
Neal looks into the mirror, at her wryly smiling reflection and uses two more hairpins to fix the small red hat, fifties style and with a short veil attached, on her head. It's tilted a little to the side, and its flat, round shape accentuates the sharp lines of her hair cut, a smart bob that ends a little under her jaw line.
Her hands shake a little, they always do when she is nervous, but she is determined not to let it show. The hat is going to stay put, and nobody who doesn't already know will realize that she has just been released from prison.
Memories of her time in prison make the expression on her face freeze, her lips shaking in their fake smile while she is trying hard to put on her make up. A shade darker then her own, but still the second palest shade that's manufactured. Her skin is pale, sickeningly so, and it's what she hates most about her body.
Otherwise she is quite beautiful, Neal knows that, and even prison couldn't dim this beauty. She adjusts her bra, made of red lace because she figures she'll need the confidence wonderful underwear gives a woman, and takes in the borrowed outfit in it's entirety.
It's a dark blue costume, from the same period as her hat, and the colour brings out her eyes, makes them look even bluer than they are, and the cut of the jacket flatters her figure. She is really thankful that she'd met June in the thrift shop, otherwise, she isn't sure she could do this.
With a critical eye she points out differences of her body. She was fitter before prison, she realizes. She had more muscle tone, but she can live with the loss of muscle, she thinks.
"At least I didn't gain that much weight." She mutters. Just a few pounds, 4.37 to be exact, and nobody will see that. Of that she is sure.
Nodding decisively, she ties a kerchief around her neck, the cloth the same colour as her head, and puts on her red lipstick.
"You look like you just stepped out of a fifties magazine, Caffrey." She whispers to her reflection. "But at least you pull it off with style!"
Her hands are still shaking, and for a moment she thinks about running away. She rights the front part of her hair a last time, and tries to ignore the matte black cuff around her wrist. The small blinking LED lamps set into the plastic are the only things that don't fit the style of the rest of the outfit. And her life style, period.
With a last look at the mirror over her shoulder, she leaves her loft. Burke is already waiting for her. Neal had heard June answer the doorway.
+
The last thing Diana expects Neal Caffrey to be is female.
Diana is sure that nobody has ever mentioned to her that Neal is a women, and from the name alone she expects him to be a man, so when a beautiful young woman comes down the large stairwell looking as if she's just stepped out of a re-coloured black and white movie, she thinks for a moment that this is some sort of elaborate joke, played on her by her colleagues.
And she decides she won't let them do that. So she plays along.
She stands up to greet the women, and by god is she beautiful, she grins to herself. Cristie had thrown her out, and it had hurt, but maybe it's time to move on.
And this is the perfect opportunity.
+
It's not Burke that's waiting for her downstairs in June's parlor. It's a woman, and an incredibly hot one, too. She is tall, a bit taller then Neal, though it's hard to say with both of them wearing different sizes of heels, her skin is a glorious brown and she's got a glint in her eyes that reminds Neal of her old friend Alex.
She always looked like this when she was conning someone, and that, in part, was why she was a much better thief than con artist.
Neal shrugs off the strange feeling this gives her, it might be nothing after all, and turns to greet the woman.
Still repeating her mantra in her head: you can do this, Neal, it's just the FBI, she holds her head high and smiles, fully aware of what that smile is capable of achieving.
"Who are you then? I was expecting Agent Burke. I'm Neal!" And fuck, there's the almost babble that sometimes blurts out of her mouth when she's excited.
+
Diana can't keep from laughing softly. Peter must have decided to go for beauty instead of acting skills, but that's alright with her. She already knows that this isn't Caffrey after all, but Peter could have really made sure that the entire situation was a bit more convincing.
"Peter sent me." Diana says and takes the hand that's pushed towards her and holds it in hers, looking deep into the woman's eyes. The hand is shaking, and yeah, incredibly bad at acting it seems, but still she's pretty cute and if Diana isn't entirely mistaken, the blush on her cheeks, that's visible even through her rather thick make up, means that fake-Caffrey feels the attraction too. "It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Diana. Diana Barrigan."
+
Her heart doesn't stop beating too hard the entire first day at the bureau, but she does her best to be charming, smiling at everyone and being just a tad too polite so the under appreciated agents in the NYC office feel oh so very important.
It's kind of sad, Neal thinks, that they're so easily fooled by her appearance.
One should think they'd been trained to resist these kinds of attempts at fooling them, or at least to discover that her demeanor is an act.
It's a good thing though, their blindness. Because she's fooled them all, they all think she's confident and while she's not happy to be here, she seems to be at least helpful.
Her confidant face is the biggest lie she's told in four years. It's the most difficult mask she's worn in what feels like forever.
The only bright spot of her day is Diana, who makes Neal feel comfortable simply because she knows that Neal is bullshitting them all. It's relieving, in a way.
So when Diana asks her out for dinner -and by god, is it a date?- she says yes, not willing to give up the comfort of being in the presence of someone who can see exactly what Neal is. A con artist, nothing else but an actress out to ensnare them all.
+
Diana takes Neal to an Italian restaurant, and Neal slowly calms down.
The lasagna is heaven, and the wine is even better; she drinks too much even though she knows that after four years of abstinence she can't hold her alcohol anymore.
The FBI agent is funny and smart, and their mutual attraction in almost palpable in the air between them.
This is happening fast, crazy like. But then again that's the same with everything else; you get out of prison and everything you see is too much, too fast, too intense.
Neal feels drunk from the wine, but she's also dizzy from the after meal espresso. The mix of too much wine and too strong caffeine makes her head spin, and she feels almost normal again, desire warring with shyness inside her veins, but winning because the point where Neal looses her inhibitions? She has long since passed that.
She's always been turned on by strong women like Diana. And she knows that this is practically painted all over her face, too eager for human contact, just wanting to feel again; she's animatedly talking, hands flailing a little in wide gestures when she recalls cons that nobody has ever even heard of, they were so good.
With a flush to her cheeks, she realizes that she's trying to impress Diana. How embarrassing.
+
Even Diana isn't quite sure how they'd ended up in Neal's apartment this fast, but she is sure that it was her suggestion.
Both of them know what comes now.
"Strip." It's not a request that Diana makes, it's not even an order; the word is a statement and Diana knows that Neal will follow it, that much is obvious from her behaviour over the day.
Diana sheds her blouse, and settles back on the bed to watch Neal undress.
She can't say what arouses her more, the shimmer of red lace over pale breasts, catching the light in different ways every time Neal takes a deep breath, or the blush that spreads over Neal's cheeks when she strips off matching red panties.
The more intensely Diana looks at her, the more her behavior changes. It's strange to see the hesitant looks from underneath lowered lashes change into flirty ones, especially because Neal seems to be uncomfortable with it. Her body stiffens slightly, and Diana is sure that somebody less perceptive than her wouldn't have caught it.
"Stop pretending," She says, and gestures with her right hand for Neal to come closer, "and come over here."
She doesn't want to discuss Neal's compulsive need to try to be what everyone wants her to be. It's sure to destroy the mood, and that's the last thing Diana wants right now.
Instead, she kisses her deep and wet, and wraps a strand of Neal's brown hair in between her fingers to guide her down onto the bed.
+
The next morning is quiet. Neal serves Diana glorious coffee and fresh fruit, and they both sit next to each other at the large wooden table.
Neal looks up, puzzled, when Diana breaks their comfortable silence. "So, what's your real name?"
"What do you mean?" Neal isn't quite sure what exactly Diana is asking. "My Parents called me Neal, they wanted a boy. End of story."
"It's obvious, darling." Sadly though, it's not, at least not to Neal.
"What's obvious?"
"Peter hired you, didn't he? To act like you're Neal Caffrey?" She smiles indulgently at Neal, but it doesn't soften the blow of her words. Something inside Neal's stomach is twisting. "I don't mind, darling, not in the least. We had fun after all, didn't we?"
Neal can't believe what she's hearing.
This must be a joke.
"Get out." She murmurs, quietly, and when Diana doesn't react beyond looking slightly surprised she says it again. Louder this time. "Get the fuck out of here!"
She can't look at Diana, doesn't want to see her face. Neal feels sick to her stomach. She gets up, takes Diana by the wrist and pushes her out of the door, not minding her struggling, and not hearing a thing Diana says to her.
When the door finally clicks shut, she takes a deep breath. It doesn't help the sickness she feels.
+
On her way out of the house, Diana realizes how much she's fucked up.
She has no idea how to smooth things over.
Author:
veronicasleeps Rating: PG-15
Characters/Pairings: Diana/Girl!Neal
Word count: ~2200
Warnings/Spoilers: Girl!Neal, some OOCness, AU
Feedback: So freaking appreciated! Really, I'll take anything, even flames. Yes, I'm that pathetic. <3
Summary: The hat is going to stay put, and nobody, who doesn't already know, will realize that she has just been released from prison.
Notes: Based on a prompt at
collarkink . But most of the kink got lost, somehow. (If you don't count Neal being a woman a kink.)“Life's like a play; it's not the length but the excellence of the acting that matters”
~Seneca
+
Diana isn't thrilled to be picking up Peter's newest acquisition, and she certainly isn't happy to do so on such short notice, especially as this is her first job back in New York and she has had no time to prepare, no time to even read the file on this criminal mastermind, but she is a good agent, a good second in command and she knows that that means sometimes having to do things like these.
So she gets up way to early to pick up this Caffrey character, allegedly one of the most talented con artists this side of the millennium, and she drives straight to the address that Peter has given her over the phone.
"I'm really sorry about this, Diana." Peter had said. But Elizabeth is sick, and he has to stay home to take care of her. "I'm sure you'll have no problems. It might be best if you don't let Neal talk too much, the Caffrey charm is supposed to be irresistible." Great. If there's one thing Diana dislikes, it's straight men hitting on her. Especially straight men who thought themselves irresistible.
When she pulls up at the address the GPS has led her to, she checks the machine twice, because this is definitely not a shabby hotel, and that's what she was expecting.
In fact it's not a hotel at all, and shabby would be the last word that she'd use to describe this house. Old, yes. Shabby, absolutely not. And she can't help but wonder how Caffrey had managed to get himself situated like this.
The door is opened by a butler, and Diana is led to a parlor and served the best coffee she has drunk in what seems like forever.
+
"You can do this, Neal. It's just the FBI." Her voice isn't shaking, not at all. "Just take it one day at a time."
Neal looks into the mirror, at her wryly smiling reflection and uses two more hairpins to fix the small red hat, fifties style and with a short veil attached, on her head. It's tilted a little to the side, and its flat, round shape accentuates the sharp lines of her hair cut, a smart bob that ends a little under her jaw line.
Her hands shake a little, they always do when she is nervous, but she is determined not to let it show. The hat is going to stay put, and nobody who doesn't already know will realize that she has just been released from prison.
Memories of her time in prison make the expression on her face freeze, her lips shaking in their fake smile while she is trying hard to put on her make up. A shade darker then her own, but still the second palest shade that's manufactured. Her skin is pale, sickeningly so, and it's what she hates most about her body.
Otherwise she is quite beautiful, Neal knows that, and even prison couldn't dim this beauty. She adjusts her bra, made of red lace because she figures she'll need the confidence wonderful underwear gives a woman, and takes in the borrowed outfit in it's entirety.
It's a dark blue costume, from the same period as her hat, and the colour brings out her eyes, makes them look even bluer than they are, and the cut of the jacket flatters her figure. She is really thankful that she'd met June in the thrift shop, otherwise, she isn't sure she could do this.
With a critical eye she points out differences of her body. She was fitter before prison, she realizes. She had more muscle tone, but she can live with the loss of muscle, she thinks.
"At least I didn't gain that much weight." She mutters. Just a few pounds, 4.37 to be exact, and nobody will see that. Of that she is sure.
Nodding decisively, she ties a kerchief around her neck, the cloth the same colour as her head, and puts on her red lipstick.
"You look like you just stepped out of a fifties magazine, Caffrey." She whispers to her reflection. "But at least you pull it off with style!"
Her hands are still shaking, and for a moment she thinks about running away. She rights the front part of her hair a last time, and tries to ignore the matte black cuff around her wrist. The small blinking LED lamps set into the plastic are the only things that don't fit the style of the rest of the outfit. And her life style, period.
With a last look at the mirror over her shoulder, she leaves her loft. Burke is already waiting for her. Neal had heard June answer the doorway.
+
The last thing Diana expects Neal Caffrey to be is female.
Diana is sure that nobody has ever mentioned to her that Neal is a women, and from the name alone she expects him to be a man, so when a beautiful young woman comes down the large stairwell looking as if she's just stepped out of a re-coloured black and white movie, she thinks for a moment that this is some sort of elaborate joke, played on her by her colleagues.
And she decides she won't let them do that. So she plays along.
She stands up to greet the women, and by god is she beautiful, she grins to herself. Cristie had thrown her out, and it had hurt, but maybe it's time to move on.
And this is the perfect opportunity.
+
It's not Burke that's waiting for her downstairs in June's parlor. It's a woman, and an incredibly hot one, too. She is tall, a bit taller then Neal, though it's hard to say with both of them wearing different sizes of heels, her skin is a glorious brown and she's got a glint in her eyes that reminds Neal of her old friend Alex.
She always looked like this when she was conning someone, and that, in part, was why she was a much better thief than con artist.
Neal shrugs off the strange feeling this gives her, it might be nothing after all, and turns to greet the woman.
Still repeating her mantra in her head: you can do this, Neal, it's just the FBI, she holds her head high and smiles, fully aware of what that smile is capable of achieving.
"Who are you then? I was expecting Agent Burke. I'm Neal!" And fuck, there's the almost babble that sometimes blurts out of her mouth when she's excited.
+
Diana can't keep from laughing softly. Peter must have decided to go for beauty instead of acting skills, but that's alright with her. She already knows that this isn't Caffrey after all, but Peter could have really made sure that the entire situation was a bit more convincing.
"Peter sent me." Diana says and takes the hand that's pushed towards her and holds it in hers, looking deep into the woman's eyes. The hand is shaking, and yeah, incredibly bad at acting it seems, but still she's pretty cute and if Diana isn't entirely mistaken, the blush on her cheeks, that's visible even through her rather thick make up, means that fake-Caffrey feels the attraction too. "It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Diana. Diana Barrigan."
+
Her heart doesn't stop beating too hard the entire first day at the bureau, but she does her best to be charming, smiling at everyone and being just a tad too polite so the under appreciated agents in the NYC office feel oh so very important.
It's kind of sad, Neal thinks, that they're so easily fooled by her appearance.
One should think they'd been trained to resist these kinds of attempts at fooling them, or at least to discover that her demeanor is an act.
It's a good thing though, their blindness. Because she's fooled them all, they all think she's confident and while she's not happy to be here, she seems to be at least helpful.
Her confidant face is the biggest lie she's told in four years. It's the most difficult mask she's worn in what feels like forever.
The only bright spot of her day is Diana, who makes Neal feel comfortable simply because she knows that Neal is bullshitting them all. It's relieving, in a way.
So when Diana asks her out for dinner -and by god, is it a date?- she says yes, not willing to give up the comfort of being in the presence of someone who can see exactly what Neal is. A con artist, nothing else but an actress out to ensnare them all.
+
Diana takes Neal to an Italian restaurant, and Neal slowly calms down.
The lasagna is heaven, and the wine is even better; she drinks too much even though she knows that after four years of abstinence she can't hold her alcohol anymore.
The FBI agent is funny and smart, and their mutual attraction in almost palpable in the air between them.
This is happening fast, crazy like. But then again that's the same with everything else; you get out of prison and everything you see is too much, too fast, too intense.
Neal feels drunk from the wine, but she's also dizzy from the after meal espresso. The mix of too much wine and too strong caffeine makes her head spin, and she feels almost normal again, desire warring with shyness inside her veins, but winning because the point where Neal looses her inhibitions? She has long since passed that.
She's always been turned on by strong women like Diana. And she knows that this is practically painted all over her face, too eager for human contact, just wanting to feel again; she's animatedly talking, hands flailing a little in wide gestures when she recalls cons that nobody has ever even heard of, they were so good.
With a flush to her cheeks, she realizes that she's trying to impress Diana. How embarrassing.
+
Even Diana isn't quite sure how they'd ended up in Neal's apartment this fast, but she is sure that it was her suggestion.
Both of them know what comes now.
"Strip." It's not a request that Diana makes, it's not even an order; the word is a statement and Diana knows that Neal will follow it, that much is obvious from her behaviour over the day.
Diana sheds her blouse, and settles back on the bed to watch Neal undress.
She can't say what arouses her more, the shimmer of red lace over pale breasts, catching the light in different ways every time Neal takes a deep breath, or the blush that spreads over Neal's cheeks when she strips off matching red panties.
The more intensely Diana looks at her, the more her behavior changes. It's strange to see the hesitant looks from underneath lowered lashes change into flirty ones, especially because Neal seems to be uncomfortable with it. Her body stiffens slightly, and Diana is sure that somebody less perceptive than her wouldn't have caught it.
"Stop pretending," She says, and gestures with her right hand for Neal to come closer, "and come over here."
She doesn't want to discuss Neal's compulsive need to try to be what everyone wants her to be. It's sure to destroy the mood, and that's the last thing Diana wants right now.
Instead, she kisses her deep and wet, and wraps a strand of Neal's brown hair in between her fingers to guide her down onto the bed.
+
The next morning is quiet. Neal serves Diana glorious coffee and fresh fruit, and they both sit next to each other at the large wooden table.
Neal looks up, puzzled, when Diana breaks their comfortable silence. "So, what's your real name?"
"What do you mean?" Neal isn't quite sure what exactly Diana is asking. "My Parents called me Neal, they wanted a boy. End of story."
"It's obvious, darling." Sadly though, it's not, at least not to Neal.
"What's obvious?"
"Peter hired you, didn't he? To act like you're Neal Caffrey?" She smiles indulgently at Neal, but it doesn't soften the blow of her words. Something inside Neal's stomach is twisting. "I don't mind, darling, not in the least. We had fun after all, didn't we?"
Neal can't believe what she's hearing.
This must be a joke.
"Get out." She murmurs, quietly, and when Diana doesn't react beyond looking slightly surprised she says it again. Louder this time. "Get the fuck out of here!"
She can't look at Diana, doesn't want to see her face. Neal feels sick to her stomach. She gets up, takes Diana by the wrist and pushes her out of the door, not minding her struggling, and not hearing a thing Diana says to her.
When the door finally clicks shut, she takes a deep breath. It doesn't help the sickness she feels.
+
On her way out of the house, Diana realizes how much she's fucked up.
She has no idea how to smooth things over.
