[White Collar] (PG)
Jan. 27th, 2014 01:58 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mtxref_ficAuthor's Note: Written for ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
fic_promptly's White Collar, Neal and Mozzie, "Wagner, really? Feeling dramatic today?".
Even on the stairs up to the penthouse, Neal could hear the crash of percussion and the blare of brass, along with a lot of piercing , instead of the usual prim, precise string music, typical of the Baroque concertos that heralded Mozzie's presence abovestairs. He had to chuckle to himself as he pushed open the door.
As per usual, he found Mozzie lounging on his couch with a glass of Merlot that he'd helped himself to from Neal's collection, clearly deep in some far corridor of his memory palace. Neal glanced to the sound system, and the box set of Solti's Die Walkuere -- on vinyl, no CD versions for him -- laying open on a table. Neal crossed to the sound system, turning down the volume on the nine Valkyries hollering well-pitched battle cries.
Mozzie came back to reality with a patient glare. "Was that really necessary? I didn't have it that loud," he objected.
"When you can hear the nine Valkyries shouting their 'Hoh-oh-to-ho' from the ground floor, it's not exactly subtle," Neal said, looking to the albums on the table. "Wagner, really? Feeling dramatic today?"
"I will have you to know that not every room in my memory palace is completely tidy, and when I need to clear those out corners, I need something bombastic to accompany my progress," Mozzie replied patiently. "It's a way to blow out the cobwebs and the dust and shake up the clutter."
"And also have June wondering if you're trying to keep the pigeons off the terrace," Neal said. "A broom works just as well."
"Mock Wagner's bombast if you will: it serves a purpose," Mozzie fired back.
"And here I thought you were strictly a Baroque man," Neal said, eying the set of records. "First pressing?"
"One of the few worth listening to, before the badly copied Time-Life Records edition," Mozzier replied proudly.
fic_promptly's White Collar, Neal and Mozzie, "Wagner, really? Feeling dramatic today?".Even on the stairs up to the penthouse, Neal could hear the crash of percussion and the blare of brass, along with a lot of piercing , instead of the usual prim, precise string music, typical of the Baroque concertos that heralded Mozzie's presence abovestairs. He had to chuckle to himself as he pushed open the door.
As per usual, he found Mozzie lounging on his couch with a glass of Merlot that he'd helped himself to from Neal's collection, clearly deep in some far corridor of his memory palace. Neal glanced to the sound system, and the box set of Solti's Die Walkuere -- on vinyl, no CD versions for him -- laying open on a table. Neal crossed to the sound system, turning down the volume on the nine Valkyries hollering well-pitched battle cries.
Mozzie came back to reality with a patient glare. "Was that really necessary? I didn't have it that loud," he objected.
"When you can hear the nine Valkyries shouting their 'Hoh-oh-to-ho' from the ground floor, it's not exactly subtle," Neal said, looking to the albums on the table. "Wagner, really? Feeling dramatic today?"
"I will have you to know that not every room in my memory palace is completely tidy, and when I need to clear those out corners, I need something bombastic to accompany my progress," Mozzie replied patiently. "It's a way to blow out the cobwebs and the dust and shake up the clutter."
"And also have June wondering if you're trying to keep the pigeons off the terrace," Neal said. "A broom works just as well."
"Mock Wagner's bombast if you will: it serves a purpose," Mozzie fired back.
"And here I thought you were strictly a Baroque man," Neal said, eying the set of records. "First pressing?"
"One of the few worth listening to, before the badly copied Time-Life Records edition," Mozzier replied proudly.
