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25 October 2014 @ 12:53 pm
Timestamp Meme  
Ganked from everyone, but specifically from angelita26. Head over to my Masterlist and pick a fic, any fic, except Bittersweet (Sorry Joy). I will write at least 300 words (probably more) of a timestamp.


1. More than one person can prompt the same fic - if you want to leave me two fics to choose from, that would be awesome too. There are currently 33 fics posted.
2. Please suggest a time frame or leave a short prompt. I'll do my best to make it work.

Prompt away!
kanarek13kanarek13 on October 25th, 2014 07:20 pm (UTC)
Hee *tacklehugs*

How about a day or even just an afternoon of Peter taking care of Neal, either as a timestamp to Love Lift Me Up... or I see it also as something fitting the Christmases verse.

Just Peter being there for Neal and Neal loving every second of it, even if it's just Peter serving as a very comfy pillow for Neal or just running his fingers through Neal's hair while they watch TV :D
pooh_collector: nealpeterpoohpooh_collector on October 26th, 2014 02:29 am (UTC)
Love Lift Me Up Timestamp
Midway through Saturday, the day after Neal had been released from the hospital, El had to leave the house to manage the anniversary party for two of her best clients. She fussed and fretted over having to go, and over Neal, and ended up departing later than she should have, Peter nearly pushing out the front door.

“We’ll be fine, hon. I promise.”

El nodded, but looked dubious. “There’s homemade chicken barley soup in the fridge and fresh bread on the counter.”

“I got it, hon.”

“And, don’t forget his medications.”

Peter shook his head. “I won’t.”

El was standing in the foyer, her bag clutched in her hands, unmoving. Peter wrapped his hands gently around her arms. “El, I got this,” he said in his most reassuring voice. “Go.”

She nodded again, mutely and then turned and left the house.

Peter sighed in relief and then let Satch out and made Neal a cup of tea before heading back upstairs to the bedroom.

At first sight, Neal appeared to be sleeping. But as Peter approached the bed he could hear Neal breathing shallowly and a bit too fast. Peter placed the tea mug on the nightstand and leaned over his partner, lightly running his fingers through Neal’s hair. Neal flinched slightly at the touch and then turned his head a little into Peter’s hand.

“Neal, what’s wrong buddy?” Peter asked softly.

Neal swallowed visibly and his eyes clenched more tightly shut. “Headache,” he mumbled.

Post-concussion headaches could be a bitch, as Peter knew well from a bad slide into home during his baseball days. “I’ll be right back,” Peter said as he ran his fingers through Neal’s hair one last time.

Neal’s medications were on the counter in the bathroom and Peter grabbed the bottle with the pain reliever prescribed specifically for headaches and made his way back into the bedroom. He read the dosage instructions and then shook two pills out the bottle.

“Neal, I’ve got your meds.”

Neal grimaced and shook his head ever so slightly.

“Please Neal, they’ll make you feel better.”

Neal simply shook his head again, a feeble tilt to the left and then the right.

Suddenly Peter wished that El hadn’t had to go to her event today. He was beginning to feel out of his element and he had no doubt that El would know exactly how to make their partner feel better.

He stood there for a moment asking himself “what would El do?” before realizing that he knew exactly what to do.

He placed the pills down on the bedside table and kicked off his shoes. Carefully he climbed up onto the bed resting his back against the headboard right next to Neal. “Come here, buddy.”

Neal sighed and then began to ease himself slowly over, without opening his eyes. Peter helped as much as he could and soon Neal was lying with his head pillowed against Peter’s chest, Peter’s long legs splayed out on either side of his own. Peter picked up the pills and the mug with the now cooling tea.

“Open up.”

This time Neal complied, opening his mouth so that Peter could place the pills on his tongue. Then he brought the mug up to Neal’s lips. Neal placed his hands on the mug around Peter’s and then took a small sip washing the pills down.

The tea was strong and sweet, just the way he liked it, so he took a couple more sips before pushing the mug away from his mouth.

Peter placed the mug back on the nightstand and then wrapped his arms gently around his lover, mindful of Neal’s healing ribs, and began rubbing circles on the tops of Neal’s thighs. “Is this okay,” he whispered in Neal’s ear.

Neal hummed. Peter took that as a yes. Slowly, Neal’s breathing relaxed and he melted into Peter’s body, the tension in his muscles easing as the meds began to do their work.

Peter was certain that the younger man had fallen asleep when Neal spoke. “Peter?”


“Thank you.”

“I would say anytime, but I really don’t want a repeat of this past week,” Peter responded, moving one of his hands from Neal’s thigh back up to run softly though his hair.

“Me neither,” Neal sighed. “But, this part, I’d be happy to do every day for the rest of our lives.”

Peter smiled, knowing that he had done right by his lover today. “Me too, and so we will.”
Re: Love Lift Me Up Timestamp - kanarek13 on October 26th, 2014 02:38 am (UTC) (Expand)
Re: Love Lift Me Up Timestamp - pooh_collector on October 26th, 2014 02:50 am (UTC) (Expand)
Re: Love Lift Me Up Timestamp - elrhiarhodan on October 26th, 2014 01:38 pm (UTC) (Expand)
Re: Love Lift Me Up Timestamp - pooh_collector on October 27th, 2014 01:01 am (UTC) (Expand)
Re: Love Lift Me Up Timestamp - angelita26 on October 26th, 2014 04:04 am (UTC) (Expand)
Re: Love Lift Me Up Timestamp - pooh_collector on October 27th, 2014 01:01 am (UTC) (Expand)
scarym1scarym1 on October 25th, 2014 08:56 pm (UTC)
How about "It is always darkest before the Dawn"? More Whumped Neal and Protective/comforting Peter. : )

Neal feels like he is becoming too much of an imposition on Peter & El's life & just wants everything to get back to normal. He decides it is time to go home. Peter & El don't think that is a good idea but Neal is insistent so they take him back to June's.

Neal starts to have memories of his abduction. He doesn't tell anyone & attempts to deal with them on his own.
pooh_collectorpooh_collector on October 27th, 2014 09:43 pm (UTC)
It's Always Darkest Before the Dawn Timestamp Part 1
Neal continued to stay with Peter and El through the weekend after his court appearance; after Peter had come through for him once again and found the evidence that proved Neal hadn’t run. El plied him with homemade meals and Peter hovered, a worried crease constantly on his brow. Neal appreciated everything they had done for him since he had been found, but by Monday morning he was ready to go back to June’s and to let the Burkes get back to their own lives.

Peter and El were reluctant to let him go, but Peter finally relented and drove Neal to June’s on his way to Federal Plaza that morning. “I’ll be by at lunchtime with your new anklet. I’ll bring sandwiches from that deli you like on Broadway.” Neal nodded and then got out of the Taurus. “And Neal,” Peter called to him. Neal turned and looked back into the car. “Don’t go anywhere,” Peter commanded with a wink and a smile.

“I promise,” Neal replied with a small smile of his own.

Neal’s apartment felt cold and empty when he entered after so many weeks away. Neal put away the few things that El had come to get for him and then changed into pajamas and crawled into this bed. He was still tired from the trauma and his injuries and he had gotten up particularly early to make sure that he could catch a ride home from Peter. It didn’t take long for him to fall asleep.

He was somewhere cold and dark. The air was musty and it reeked of grease. There was a metallic clanking noise in the background, but Neal couldn’t see what was making it. He knew he wasn’t alone. He could sense someone else’s presence, but he couldn’t see them. “Peter?” He called out softly, hoping against hope that it was his partner, coming for him.

No one replied. Suddenly there were hands on him, gripping with brutal force. Neal tried to pull away, but he couldn’t see where his opponent was, so his struggles were futile. A fist hit him in the chest. A boot kicked him in the kidney. He yelled, hoping someone could hear and would come to help. No one did. The beating continued. Through it all Neal tried to defend himself, tried to get free, to no avail. Once or twice he caught a brief glimpse of his assailant, blonde hair and dark, malevolent eyes.

Then somehow he was somewhere else, somewhere out in the open. He could feel the cold wind against his body. He shivered hard and then fell to the ground, his legs no longer able to carry him. He was lying in the snow, soft and white all around him. He wasn’t cold anymore. That was probably a bad thing, but he didn’t have the strength to care at the moment. Instead he let himself drift off, away from the pain.
elrhiarhodanelrhiarhodan on October 26th, 2014 12:23 am (UTC)
Tales from Gotham, please.

Neal finds Peter in dire straits and if he helps him he might end up in a bad situation, but if he doesn't help Peter, Peter will die.
pooh_collectorpooh_collector on October 27th, 2014 12:59 am (UTC)
Tales from Gotham Timestamp Part 1
April of 1864 was turning out to be an interesting month. The days were overly warm, far above the norm, but the nights were blustery and cold. It was too hot for Peter to wear his overcoat for the first half of his rounds which started at noontime and too cold for Peter to be without it after the clock struck midnight.

Today, he had opted to leave the bulky wool coat at home and was wearing only his frockcoat, his copper star pinned to the lapel over his heart. He was regretting the decision now as the night wore on and a cold wind whistled through the alleyways and down the avenues chilling him down to his stiff and aching bones. But he kept walking his rounds, ever vigilant.

At the corner of Orange and Cross streets, Peter made a sharp right onto Anthony. He crossed over onto the south side of the street, mindful to step wide over the sewage that ran along the side of the curb. Paradise Park was a usual gathering place for owls taking a break for a Lucifer and for dead rabbits to congregate around wood fires set up in the mud.

Peter kept up a steady pace as he passed by the park. There was no reason to court trouble unless he was certain a crime was underway.

He was almost to the edge of the park, where Anthony met Little Water Street, when he came upon a group of three Lushingtons standing around a fire having an out-and-out. Other than their drunken state there didn’t appear to be any reason for Peter to roust them, so he continued on his way.

“That copper cutty-eyed us,” Peter heard as he neared the corner. One of them must have spotted the star on Peter’s chest as he passed them by.

“Hey Copper! Are you bustled?”

Peter slowed his pace and took a deep breath trying to decide if it was best to ignore the group and keep moving or engage them.

Neal Caffrey watched the scene from where he was hidden, nishing in the shadows behind a large oak tree. “Keep walking, Peter,” he whispered hoping that man he had come to nose for and even to like over the past ten months would somehow hear and heed his advice.

No such luck was to be had. Peter turned and began to palaver with the three men that Neal had been watching. They were rabbits for Ryan Wilkes, a man that Neal had once worked with and was now eager to avoid at all costs. Their brief association had been a rare mistake on Neal’s part.

Neal saw Peter pull the tin whistle from his pocket just as the man who had initially taunted Peter threw his first punch. Peter ducked out of the way cleanly, but the whistle went flying from his fingers.

Neal cursed silently and moved out from his hiding spot as the two other rabbits joined in the fray.

“We’re going to learn you not to be so uppish, Copper.” One of the men said as he and his pal grabbed Peter from either side and pinned his arms.

Re: Tales from Gotham Timestamp Part 2 - pooh_collector on October 27th, 2014 01:00 am (UTC) (Expand)
Re: Tales from Gotham Timestamp Part 2 - angelita26 on October 30th, 2014 02:23 am (UTC) (Expand)
Re: Tales from Gotham Timestamp Part 2 - pooh_collector on November 5th, 2014 04:03 pm (UTC) (Expand)
Re: Tales from Gotham Timestamp Part 2 - elrhiarhodan on October 30th, 2014 09:05 pm (UTC) (Expand)
Re: Tales from Gotham Timestamp Part 2 - pooh_collector on November 5th, 2014 04:05 pm (UTC) (Expand)
angelita26: Neal Winceangelita26 on October 26th, 2014 02:35 am (UTC)
How about a little something after Down in the Dark? Perhaps a couple of days later, Neal's refusing to take his pain meds because he doesn't like how they make him feel, but he's still hurting. Peter cuddles him to help him relax.
pooh_collectorpooh_collector on October 28th, 2014 10:14 pm (UTC)
Down in the Dark Timestamp - Part 1
Peter watched as Neal fidgeted for the five hundredth time in the last twenty minutes. His partner was lying prone on the sofa, not watching tv and not reading, because of his concussion. His casted left arm was propped on a pillow that rested on his thigh. His sprained ankle sat atop another pillow that was leaning on the far arm of the sofa. From Peter’s position at the dining room table, where he was attempting to get some work done, Neal looked like misery incarnate.

Neal sighed and shifted again as Peter watched. That was the last straw. Peter got up, went into the kitchen and got a bottle of water from the fridge and Neal’s Vicodin from the counter, and then made his way into the living room. He sat down on the coffee table in front of Neal and held out the bottles to him.

When Neal turned to look at him, Peter could see just how miserable his partner was. He was squinting and pain lines marred the corners of his eyes, the edges of his mouth and the expanse of his forehead. Neal sighed again when he saw what Peter was holding and then glared up at his lover. “I don’t want those, Peter.”

“I know you don’t. But you’re in pain.”

“I’m just bored. I’ve been home for two days already with nothing to do. There’s only so much time I can spend thinking up cons I’m never going to pull.”

Peter scowled in disapproval, both at Neal’s obvious lie and at the content of Neal’s obvious lie. “You’re not conning me now. Take the medication, please.”

Neal closed his eyes and shook his head carefully. “I can’t stand how it makes me feel, Peter.”

“I can’t stand watching you lie here in obvious pain,” Peter countered.

Neal opened his eyes again and met Peter’s gaze. “I would rather be in pain, than be nauseated and out of it. The concussion is making it hard enough for me to think. I know there’s no great solution here, but this is the one I prefer.”

Peter looked down at Neal for a long moment before speaking again. “Okay, but this,” Peter said pointing at Neal and the sofa, “isn’t working. Let’s go back upstairs where you can get more comfortable.”

Neal nodded minutely and then began the slow process of getting himself vertical, his good hand pressed up against his aching ribs. Peter helped by pulling the pillows out from under his injured limbs and then keeping a steadying hand on Neal’s shoulder as the younger man moved to sit up. Neal stood on his own, but Peter hovered next to him while Neal fought off the dizziness created by the change in position. From there Peter shadowed Neal up the stairs and into their bedroom.
Re: Down in the Dark Timestamp - Part 2 - pooh_collector on October 28th, 2014 10:15 pm (UTC) (Expand)
Re: Down in the Dark Timestamp - Part 2 - angelita26 on October 28th, 2014 11:45 pm (UTC) (Expand)
Re: Down in the Dark Timestamp - Part 2 - pooh_collector on November 5th, 2014 04:05 pm (UTC) (Expand)
aragarna: Peter and Neal 2aragarna on October 26th, 2014 10:40 pm (UTC)
What Remains is but Ashes and Dust.

Some more fluff at the end?
pooh_collectorpooh_collector on October 30th, 2014 01:21 am (UTC)
What Is Left Is But Ashes and Dust Timestamp
Neal felt better after signing his new contract. It had been a difficult decision. And, he was fairly certain that it was the right one, but that didn’t mean that he wasn’t still anxious that he was choosing the path that would at some point place him in the position to hurt someone he cared about again.

But the weight of returning to prison was gone. The weight of making decisions dictated by what other people, Adler, wanted from him, was gone. And, after filling his belly with El’s delicious dinner, Neal slept through the night, without nightmares, without reliving that day on the pier.

In the morning he woke feeling less tired, but his leg was sore and his head ached and Neal suspected that he was still running a low-grade fever. He made his way slowly to the bathroom and took his antibiotics, two Tylenol and half a Vicodin. He didn’t like the way they made him feel, but his leg was painful enough that the benefits of the pills outweighed the detriments for the moment. Then he eyed the shower noncommittally. It would be nice to be clean and the hot water would probably help to ease the aches, but the effort was more than he was willing to deal with at the moment. He decided he would shower later, before Peter and El came home.

When he eventually made it downstairs Neal was surprised to find Peter at the dining room table, working on his laptop.


Peter turned at the sound of Neal’s voice. “Hey, yourself. How are you feeling this morning?”

Neal smiled at his partner. “Achy, but better. I thought you would be at the office by now.”

Peter shrugged. “I decided to work from home today and play the role of your watchdog myself. How about some breakfast?”

“I could eat,” Neal replied as he limped his way into the dining room.

Peter got up and clapped his hands together. “Good, because El’s not here to needle me about my cholesterol. We’ve got stuff for French toast and I went out this morning and snuck a package of thick cut bacon into the house.”

Neal shook his head in amusement at Peter’s enthusiasm. “She’s going to figure it out you know, from the smell of frying bacon in the air if nothing else.”

“Nah, I’ll open all the windows and use the stove fan. It’ll be fine,” Peter assured him as he began pulling ingredients out of the fridge.

Neal sat at the kitchen island and watched while Peter went to work preparing their meal. While the bread was soaking in the egg mixture, Peter started on the bacon, frying up the entire package. “We can’t leave any in the fridge, so we might as well eat it all,” he reasoned.

Neal had to admit that it all smelled wonderful and when Peter set a plate loaded with cinnamony and syrupy French toast and crispy bacon in front of him on the counter, his mouth watered and his stomach rumbled.

Peter laughed at loud at the sound of it. Then he made up his own plate and joined Neal at the island.

They ate in companionable silence; both of them busy enjoying the rich fare. Neal ate with gusto, pleased that his appetite, and more importantly his appreciation for good food had returned.

When he was done, Peter pushed his plate away and put his hand on Neal’s back. “It’s really good to have you home.”

Neal smiled, his body sated and his mind at ease. “It’s really good to be home.”
Re: What Is Left Is But Ashes and Dust Timestamp - aragarna on October 30th, 2014 01:30 am (UTC) (Expand)
Re: What Is Left Is But Ashes and Dust Timestamp - angelita26 on October 30th, 2014 02:19 am (UTC) (Expand)
Re: What Is Left Is But Ashes and Dust Timestamp - pipilj on October 31st, 2014 07:22 am (UTC) (Expand)
joy2190joy2190 on October 27th, 2014 01:54 pm (UTC)

Edited at 2014-10-27 02:04 pm (UTC)
pooh_collector: eyeorepooh_collector on October 27th, 2014 02:17 pm (UTC)
Sorry joy!

I'll write you something else, if you want.
sapphire2309: writingsapphire2309 on October 28th, 2014 05:40 am (UTC)
Hi! Sorry I'm late, but I remembered this meme and I can never get enough of What Was Lost. A tiestamp to What Was Lost? Not too long after (or maybe a while later, depending on how you want to go), Peter has nightmares. How do Neal and Elizabeth soothe him back to a peaceful sleep?
pooh_collectorpooh_collector on October 30th, 2014 07:28 pm (UTC)
What Was Lost - Timestamp
After the bagels and a long and leisurely walk through Riverside Park, Peter and El managed to convince Neal to come back to Brooklyn with them.

It wasn’t easy; Neal was still tentative and uncertain about where he stood in his relationship with Peter and El. And, Peter was uncertain about how his actions over these past weeks had changed the dynamics between the three of them. He didn’t know if they could ever again be what they were before El’s kidnapping. But, he hoped that with time, they could be something better.

They spent the remainder of the day talking, trying to figure out how to put the pieces of their bent, but not broken relationship back together. It was stressful and exhausting laying their feelings on the line and for Peter and Neal being honest about the mistakes they had made. By the time the cartons from the Chinese takeout they had for dinner where cleaned off the coffee table Neal was white faced and in obvious pain.

Peter and El carefully bundled him upstairs and when he tried to make for the guest room Peter wrapped an arm around his shoulders and guided him into their bedroom. When they climbed into bed, Peter steered Neal to the center and then wrapped his arms around Neal to assure him that he was wanted, that he was loved.

Neal relaxed quickly into Peter’s arm and was asleep minutes later. El followed him not long after. Peter lay awake for a long time listening to the counterpoints in their breathing, thankful to have this, have them, back in his life again.

Eventually, he too dropped into sleep. But the stresses of the last weeks followed him and he dreamed about standing alone at El’s grave. Her funeral had just ended, the mourners making their way back to their own lives and Peter stood by himself, clenching and unclenching his empty right hand. Neal wasn’t there to hold it, to hold him, to help him get through his loss. Suddenly his heart felt as empty as his hand, and twice as empty as it should be. The loves of his life were both gone.

The sound of his own sobs woke him. He rolled away from Neal and tried to tuck his face into the pillow to ride out the grief he felt without disturbing his partners. Another sob wracked him and he stifled it as best he could.

But then Neal was there, wrapping his arms tightly around Peter’s chest and softly kissing Peter’s neck. “It’s okay,” he whispered in Peter’s ear. “We’re here.”

Peter gripped Neal’s hands in his own and held on as if Neal would somehow slip away if he lost contact with his younger lover.

And, then El was there too, fitting herself onto the edge of the bed and cupping his face in her delicate hands. She shushed him and wiped his tears away with her thumbs.

Peter let the touch and feel of his lovers soothe him. Neal’s stubble scraping against the skin on his neck, the smell of El’s shampoo filling his nose. It was a nightmare, nothing more. He wasn’t alone. He hadn’t lost their love. He was safe in their arms and their hearts.
elrhiarhodanelrhiarhodan on October 30th, 2014 07:50 pm (UTC)
Re: What Was Lost - Timestamp

Why do you make my cry in the middle of my day?

Re: What Was Lost - Timestamp - pooh_collector on November 5th, 2014 04:15 pm (UTC) (Expand)
Re: What Was Lost - Timestamp - angelita26 on October 31st, 2014 01:24 am (UTC) (Expand)
Re: What Was Lost - Timestamp - pooh_collector on November 5th, 2014 04:16 pm (UTC) (Expand)
Re: What Was Lost - Timestamp - sapphire2309 on October 31st, 2014 04:51 am (UTC) (Expand)
Re: What Was Lost - Timestamp - pooh_collector on November 5th, 2014 04:16 pm (UTC) (Expand)
Re: What Was Lost - Timestamp - pipilj on October 31st, 2014 07:23 am (UTC) (Expand)
Re: What Was Lost - Timestamp - pooh_collector on November 5th, 2014 04:16 pm (UTC) (Expand)