AN: The second season premier was amazing, they hit every single high note but the scene between Neal and Whitney went just knocked my socks off. However, I just wondered what if Whitney wasn't quite the, ahem, innocent, Neal took her for. It's a big mistake not to know your mark.
AN: Thank you to the wonderful Kiki Cabou for volunteering to beta this for me. It's the first time I've had any of my work betaed and I valued all of her suggestions and used 99 percent of them.
DISCALAIMER: No ticky, no money (I don't own them, I'm not getting paid)
SPOILERS: Season 2: Withdrawal
The Best Laid Cons
"It's a big day for me. You're the first girl I've had a drink with since I got out of prison." Neal wiggled his eyebrows at Whitney, watching how she leaned back from him, her eagerness turning to wariness. The truth hurt, but it also aided his purpose.
Having finished his oh-so-embarrassing tale of that silly forgery and his hilarious capture (twice!) by Peter, he asked, "It's not a problem, is it?" and flashed her a killer smile.
It was fairly alarming that Whitney smiled right back. "A problem? Are you kidding me?" She sounded almost indecently excited. "Oh, Neal, you're a dream come true."
Neal's train of thought derailed and his smile vanished. "Huh." He felt like someone just kicked his legs out from under him ... and he was sitting down.
"I've always wanted to be an ex-con's first. All that pent up sexual energy, you know? I've heard that for every year a man's been in prison, he can keep it up a whole day."
"Uh..." Neal was panicking now. How had this situation gotten out of control so quickly?
"You wanna go for it? We can take all night. I've got the next few days off. What do you think about handcuffs?"
"What?" he squeaked.
"Oh, I forgot. The whole prison thing would bring back ... well, I guess handcuffs are out." She sighed in disappointment.
"Yeah! Yeah. ... Yeah." He trailed off stupidly in relief at dodging that particular bullet and stared between Whitney's head and the bar. Mozzie was looking right back at him with raised eyebrows. Neal waited until Whitney closed her eyes to take a luxurious pull from her wine glass, and mouthed "HELP!"
"Mmm, that's good," Whitney said, setting the glass down. "And you know, I'm sorry to be so blunt, but Mr. W. keeps me crazy busy, so I haven't had a lot of action lately. All work and no play. You know what that's like, right?" She chuckled. "What am I saying? Of course you do. Anyway, that's kind of why I go on all these trips." She wiggled her eyebrows at Neal. "The hot beaches are nice, but the hot men are nicer."
Neal willed himself to say something witty that would also allow him to escape. "Uh huh," he said instead. He didn't have enough air behind it and it came out about half an octave too high.
Whitney, sensing his delicious weakness, gripped his arm like a vice and hauled him to his feet. "Come on, stud muffin, my chamber, I mean, my apartment, is this way. Would ropes bother you, or maybe plastic ties?"
Neal just slowly nodded his head, and then shook it. No words would come.
"Oh, don't worry about it," she said, mistaking his silence for deep thought. "You can choose when we get there. I've got a large assortment of toys we can play with. Once I get you where I want you, well ... my last boyfriend told me I was the energizer bunny from hell." She grinned like this was a good thing. Neal blinked in alarm. "Sadly, well, this is kind of embarrassing for me. The last time we, uh, we hadn't seen each other in a few days and, well, the medical examiner said…. But you look like you're in excellent health."
As Whitney dragged a now struggling Neal out of the bistro, Mozzie shook his head and calmly took a sip of his wine before unlocking his cell phone and dialing.
"Only you, Neal," he muttered as it rang. "... Hey, Suit? It's me. You know how you always tell Neal not to do something stupid?"