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Good Morning Comment Fic Folk!

Today is Friday, so that means it's Free For All Day! And fandom, any pairing, any prompt.

Go wild!

But remember the rules so everyone gets a chance to play. 3 prompts per fandom, no more than 5 in a row. Come on back to prompt more once some of yours have been answered. No spoilers in the prompt itself for at least a week after air/publish date. If your fic has spoilers, please warn boldly and leave at least three spaces before your fic starts.

Please format your prompts correctly for our hard working code monkeys.

Example:

RPS, Jeffrey Dean Morgan/Christian Kane, Power Plays
Supernatural, Sam/Dean, what are you, five?

Crossover:

Justified/Leverage, Raylan/Eliot, whiskey, women, work

Go forth and fic!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

chibifukurou

When they arrive at her house, Jane is waiting for them in her sitting room a shawl hastily thrown over a floor-length nightgown. She quickly ushers them up the stairs and to the door Neal’s apartment.

Peter tries to open the door but it’s locked. “Caffrey open this door before I break it down,” he yells.

Giving an annoyed huff, Elizabeth pushed him out of the way. She leaned against the door so that she didn’t have to yell. “Neal, sweetie, can you let us in? We’re worried about you and want to make sure you’re okay.”

Neal opened the door. He was dressed in nothing but sweatpants and shivering up a storm, despite the balminess of the night. He’s in shock. Whatever nightmare head been having it had been bad.

Peter couldn’t help but feel guilty, he’d known Neal was having problems but nothing this bad.
Elizabeth wasn’t one to let her personal feelings get in the way of doing what was necessary, she swept past Neal without even asking for permission. Neal stared after her. Peter got the feeling that he didn’t know what to make of El, when she was in full mother-hen mode.

Peter knew not to fight her. He followed her lead. Grabbing Neal’s arm he lead him over to the couch, pushing him down into it, before perching on the coffee-table.

Elizabeth was making coffee in the kitchenette. The noise was comforting, distracting. It made Peter feel less like an intruder. While he considered Neal a friend, he didn’t consider him somebody he could drop in on unannounced. Their relationship had started out strictly business and even now it rarely moved beyond the realm of their shared FBI work. Sitting in his living room in the middle of the night was surreal.

Trying to distract himself, Peter surveyed Neal again. He wanted to get a feel for how Neal was doing. Neal wasn’t being very obliging, as he had a quick-silver smile pasted onto his face. The effect was diminished by both Peters familiarity with the defense mechanism and the fact that Neal was still shaking.

Yanking down the throw from the back of the couch, Peter wrapped it around Neal. It didn’t help the shaking, so Peter pulled him closer, wrapping his arms around Neal’s back. His chin rested on Neal’s mussed hair. He doesn’t mention the fact that his shirt is getting wet and Neal’s shoulders are shaking with silent sobs. He’s glad Neal is finally opening up and doesn’t want to discourage him from continuing.