s2309: (Alex 01)
[personal profile] s2309
Yep, I'm alive.

Title: Watching The Waves Crashing
Characters (Pairings) Kate Moreau, Alex Hunter (background Kate/Neal).
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 523
Disclaimer: White Collar is Jeff Eastin's brainchild. Not mine.
Summary: Anyone can kinda sorta be friends, given enough alcohol. Fun and games don't hurt either.
Author's Note: This is just random floof. There's no plot here. Title's from Skies On Fire by The Green Children.
Apparently, according to my brain, Kate and Alex can only be friends when they're drunk off their asses. Okay then.
Also, I'm pretending that arcades are the same all over the world, because who has time for research, this is a kinda sorta last minute thing... don't tell anyone.
This is for [livejournal.com profile] sheenianni, for the [livejournal.com profile] wc_women_fest Holiday Exchange. I hope you like it!
Also, since it's well past midnight here, happy new year!! (Which also means this fic is late. ...it's our secret, okay? Shhhhh.)

"Do you want to go to the mall?" Kate had asked.

It had sounded like an innocent enough idea then, back when Alex had apparently forgotten that malls have bars tucked away someplace too.

And, apparently, that wine doesn't stay wine. She could have sworn that the glass she was holding was the soft curve of a red wine glass, filled with an exquisite vintage. Now, she's gazing into the slightly briny depths of a martini glass, the eye of the olive fixed on her in return, and the feel of the glass in her hand isn't quite so gentle. The neat, smooth edges don't agree with her.

"I don't know where my mom is," Kate says in a low voice, eyes wide and earnest.

Alex blinks at her a bit stupidly. When did their hypothetical Louvre heist turn into a confession of their darkest secrets?

"No, really. I have no idea. My dad divorced her, and then she stopped sending cars. Cards. Stopped sending cards. And then she moved. And then I moved. Like a hundred times. I moved a hundred times, she probably only moved once. Or twice. Anyway. I don't know where she is."

Alex snorts inelegantly. "She's not a criminal, yes? Moz'll find her in five minutes."

"Not the point. I lost my mom. My mom, Alex. Lost her."

"Yeah, I don't see the point."

Kate gives her another nasty look that implies she's got nothing between her ears. "I'm alone. I've got no family."

"Your dad?"



"Hates me because I hate Percy. And love Neal."



"Oh please, he's madly in love with you. I mean, he claims he's sane, but it's love. And Neal. Neal in love. Sanity flees before it."

"No, no, no, not... Neal lies. He's a liar. We've had this conversation before."

"...Was I drunk when we had said conversation?"

"I believe so, yes."

"There you go." Alex gives her a little so-there nod.

"Useless. What's the point if you don't remember anything?"

"I think that's exactly the point. I don't want to remember any of this sober."

"Right, yeah, you have heists to pull. Neals to avoid."

"Just the one Neal. And I don't avoid him. I just... dance around him. Which isn't avoiding. It's more graceful. Gracefuller. Eleganter."

Kate cocks her head, resembling nothing more than a little squirrel (if one with a rather wrecked sense of balance). "The elegantest," she says softly, putting one hand over Alex's. "It's very kind of you. Thank you."

Alex grumbles absently under her breath, while somehow also looking extremely pleased with herself.

"Do you want to play mall games?" Kate asks, seizing the moment of silence.

"Mall games?"

"They're basically the entire reason I even come here. You know mall games. Skee ball. Mini basketball. Air hockey. Those things with cars. Car races! Car races. The thing that makes you dance weirdly. That other thing with the big plastic guns that are really hard to aim properly. I think whoever manufactured those needs to be sued. I mean-"

"Shut up about the damn guns and I'll play as many as you want."
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