asimaiyat | White Collar, "Truth and Consequences," Mozzie-centric ficlet

Title: "Truth and Consequences"
Fandom: White Collar
Pairing/Characters: Mozzie, Neal
Rating: PG
Summary: Mozzie's first break-in was not his best work. Inspired by this New York Magazine item.

"Okay, your turn," says Neal, after taking another shot of Mozzie's best cachaca, a favor returned from a friend in Brazil. "Worst job ever. Go."

"Do I have to?" Mozz asks, looking a little queasy. "You couldn't just agree to let one slide, after everything I've done for you?"

"I told you mine. Fair's fair."

"You think you know a guy." Mozz sighs. "Okay. Nineteen eighty or thereabouts, Mom -- her memory be a blessing, et cetera -- Mom and I were pretty much living on her unemployment checks, and I had been trying to supplement that meager income with whatever I could find in people's pockets and unattended tip jars. I never got caught, so I guess I felt like a pretty big man for a while. Anyway, I thought I could move up in the world, pull a real, grown-up break-in. Impressive, right? I picked out a building with a rusty old fire escape that I knew I could climb up, figured out what kind of locks they were using on the windows, and waited until I saw someone leaving the apartment I'd chosen as having the clearest escape route -- "

Neal's eyes widened. "But you hadn't checked how many people were there in the first place."

"Exactly. The lady I thought was the occupant? Actually the occupant's semi-live-in girlfriend. Now, you've got to picture this. I'm sixteen, about five-foot four -- "

"You've only grown two inches since you were sixteen?"

"So maybe I was about five feet. Dressed all in black like I think I'm Batman or something, and here's this seven-foot behemoth, shaved head, running for the door because he's so stoned that he thinks I'm the Law coming to arrest him for smoking up."

"The tragedy of your generation," says Neal, philosophically.

"So here I am, high-school doctrinaire Marxist, just been mistaken for the pigs. Do I let it go? Of course I can't let it go. I blurt out 'I'm not a cop, I'm a burglar!'"

"You're kidding."

"I wish. Guy says, 'Dude, really? I've never had a burglar!' And by now I know I'm the biggest idiot who ever lived, so I just sort of nod fatalistically. And of course, as I'm awkwardly backing out the window, the asshole calls building security. Had them on speed dial, if you can believe it."

"You can't trust a paranoid stoner."

"Truer words, my friend."

"So you got arrested? I thought you had a perfect record."

"Technically I do. Juvie records get erased, remember? According to the computer systems of the world, I've been squeaky clean since I was seventeen years old. Spent my community service tutoring kids in juvie, actually."

"What did you teach them?"

"Reading, mostly. A People's History, sentence by sentence."

"It's good to give back to the community."

"You know, I'm not at all surprised to hear you say that."