Part 1 of 2. Written for a fiction exchange. Hope you enjoy!

SUMMARY: Neal tries to be helpful at work. Peter is not impressed. (Not slash).

WARNING: Contains non-consensual adult discipline/spanking (and a fairly flimsy plot!)

DISCLAIMER: I don't own White Collar. No copyright infringement is intended and I am not making any money from this.

'Peter.'

Peter looked up at Neal's voice and then groaned inwardly when he saw the younger man standing in his office doorway, smiling. Peter was familiar with most of Neal's smiles, and this was the one that said I want something and you're going to give it to me, even if I have to use every trick in the book.

'What is it Neal?'

Neal widened his smile further and took Peter's greeting as an invitation to come in and sit down in the chair opposite Peter's desk, crossing his legs casually.

'I heard Jones and Diana got raises,' he said, and whilst it was clearly designed to sound offhand, there was an undertone of accusation.

Peter nodded. 'It's salary review time, Neal. That's what happens at salary review time.' Then, seeing where this was going, he continued before Neal could cut in: 'And no, there's no raise for you. C.I. payment is set in stone. There's nothing I can do about that.'

Peter had expected Neal's face to fall at this news, but his smile stayed put and was now accompanied by an earnest nod.

'I know that, Peter. But I was thinking, maybe instead of a raise, I could have something else. There's an exhibition on soon that I want to see – a Ken Price Sculpture Retrospective – but it's a little out of my radius, and there are a few other shows I'd like to take in too, so I thought you could increase the distance, just for a couple of wee–'

'No.'

Neal faltered, and this time the smile did slip. 'What? Why not?'

'Because two miles is already a generous radius,' Peter said, sighing a little. 'And every time I need to get it extended or removed for non-work-related purposes, I have to fill in numerous forms, and give reasons. Reasons which the marshals expect to be more convincing than 'My C.I. wants to look at sculptures and apparently the hundreds of exhibitions actually within his radius aren't good enough'.'

'But Ken Price is…' Neal started, and then realised that arguing the merits of differing sculptors was unlikely to hold much water with Peter. He tried a different tack. 'Peter, if I'm not getting a raise like everyone else, I don't think it's unreasonable to ask for a small gesture. You know, to reward me for good behaviour.'

Peter's eyebrows shot up and he had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. 'What good behaviour would that be, Neal?'

Neal looked affronted. 'I've solved a lot of cases since I've been working here,' he began, and then took note of Peter's expression and swiftly corrected himself. 'I've helped you solve a lot of cases. Your clearance rate's increased by twenty per cent!'

'Eight per cent.'

'Whatever,' Neal smiled. 'It's gone up.'

'It has,' Peter agreed, and he made himself soften his tone, because he did appreciate Neal's work, and he probably didn't tell his partner enough. Still, as much as part of him would love to grant Neal's request and see those blue eyes light up, he knew it wouldn't be any good for either of them to start cutting Neal extra slack when the kid couldn't even stay put inside his current boundaries.

'But Neal, that's your job, and you're being rewarded for it with a 2 mile radius instead of a view of cell walls. Besides, I think we're both aware that you haven't behaved flawlessly recently. Do I need to mention the Haustenberg you stole, or the break in at the Hauser clinic?'

'Ah!' Neal said, putting up a finger to stop Peter and grinning smugly. 'You can't use those as examples. You've already…' his grin faded ever-so-slightly but he continued on regardless, '…dealt with those incidents. So you can't hold them against me, it's double jeopardy.' He was pleased with his reasoning, even if he did have to force himself not to shift uncomfortably as he remembered exactly how Peter had chosen to deal with those actions.

Peter suppressed a smile. 'That's not quite the correct use of 'double jeopardy',' he said mildly, 'but regardless, even if you had been behaving, the radius is there for a reason, and I'm not altering it.'

Neal opened his mouth to argue further, and then realised he had nothing left to say. He felt his face shifting embarrassingly into a pout and swiftly replaced it with a gracious smile in an attempt to maintain some dignity. 'Fine,' he said, as smoothly as possible. 'Thank you for your time.'

He rose and left the office, leaving Peter shaking his head as he returned to his paperwork.

Neal sat at his desk, alternating between glaring at the mortgage fraud file in front of him and glaring up at Peter's office. He worked just as hard as anyone else here – even if he did occasionally persuade the junior agents to do his paperwork for him – and he rarely complained – except for when they were in the van, and who could really blame him for that? – and yet he was completely underappreciated. He tapped his pen against his lower lip, trying to decide how best to change Peter's mind.

Maybe – and it was, Neal had to admit, a long shot – maybe if he could show how much of an asset he was during the next few cases, if he could get answers quicker and more efficiently than Jones and Diana, then Peter would have to recognise that he deserved a reward. And the sculpture exhibition was three weeks away: plenty of time to put his unique skills to work in helping the team.

'It was in plain sight, Peter. I'm perfectly entitled to pass on evidence that is in plain sight.'

Peter pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers and leaned both elbows heavily on his desk. He was currently experiencing one of his frequent Caffrey-instigated headaches, this time caused by Neal's latest overzealous attempt to help whilst out doing surveillance for the current case.

'The list was only in plain sight once you opened up the wallet. The wallet that you stole from our suspect, who you were not supposed to be nearer than fifty feet to. I hardly think a judge will uphold 'plain sight' rules under those circumstances,' Peter snapped.

'I gave it back before he noticed, so it was hardly stealing,' Neal defended, annoyance creeping over his face that his evidence was being discounted. 'He didn't see me. And you don't need to submit the list in court anyway – you can just use it to help in the investigation. It doesn't even have to be mentioned in the report.'

Peter shook his head. 'Fine. But no more of this. I don't want you making a habit of stealing from suspects – or borrowing from suspects,' he amended, putting his hand up to forestall Neal's protest. 'I mean it, Neal. It's going to get you into trouble and get our cases thrown out.'

Neal wanted to argue the issue further, but Peter's countenance was forbidding, so he nodded his understanding and left. He was secretly pleased; it was only a matter of time before one of the numbers on the list gave them a break, and he was sure Peter would be more than happy to overlook his minor discretion then, and credit him with helping close the case instead. All in all, it had been a successful afternoon.

Two days later, when Neal turned up at work to find that none of the numbers on the list had given them a lead, he was not happy.

Three hours after that, Neal was even less happy. He thought it had been a good idea to excuse himself for a bathroom break and then take an extended walk around during their visit to the suspect's home whilst Peter asked the man – Bartlett, the presumed head of a smuggling ring – a few questions. And Neal was perfectly capable of picking the lock to Bartlett's office without leaving any trace, so it made complete sense for him to rifle through a few documents and photograph some with his phone whilst he was there.

Peter did not seem to agree, and once he'd finished sounding out Bartlett, he led Neal firmly away from the house and down the street, chastising him about recklessness and the potential for getting caught by the housekeeper. Neal was starting to worry – Peter's grip on his upper arm was unpleasantly tight, and the agent's face held the same irate yet determined look that it had the last couple of times Neal had got himself into trouble. Those two times had not ended well. They had ended in two excruciating lectures, followed by two far-more-excruciating sessions of… well, Neal didn't even want to think the word, but Peter had referred to it as 'a more hands-on approach to discipline'. Neal had no desire to experience that approach a third time. He would be more than happy if he never saw the view from upside down over Peter's lap ever again.

Still, he told himself, he hadn't done anything so bad this time. He was really just being helpful. Peter would see that.

Neal suddenly noticed that they had passed the parked Taurus and Peter was pulling him into an empty alley just beyond the car. The agent tugged Neal behind a dumpster, shielding them from the road. This was not good.

Neal squirmed out of Peter's hold and the older man glared down at him.

'What did I tell you about breaking warrant laws and getting evidence illegally?' Peter all-but-growled.

'That I should do it more often because it works so well?' Neal quipped with a grin, hoping the Caffrey charm would make Peter smile. It did not, and Neal quickly noted his mistake as Peter's expression darkened further. He would have backed away, but Peter grabbed his arm again, turned him to the side and landed two sharp slaps to his backside before releasing him.

Neal felt his face heat up in embarrassment. Although Peter had put him over his knee twice, he'd yet to deliver any swats outside of those occasions, so this was an unwelcome new experience. Being held by the arm and smacked somehow made him feel even more like a little kid than the previous spankings he'd endured.

'Ow,' he complained resentfully, trying to cover his humiliation with defensiveness. 'It was a joke, Peter.'

'Do I look like I'm in the mood for jokes?'

Neal was tempted to give another smart answer to rescue his pride, but the sting still throbbing across his butt made him think twice. 'No.'

Peter continued to glare at him until Neal glanced away. 'Sorry, it won't happen again'.

'Good, because I am tired of this. If you'd been caught today, Bartlett could have pressed charges, and I'd be hard pressed to protect you.' He sighed and put his hand on Neal's shoulder. 'I know you're trying to help, but you can't go about it like this. Pull this sort of thing again and you will be extremely unhappy about the consequences. Got it?'

Neal nodded. The threat wasn't exactly subtle. 'Got it.'

'Okay,' Peter murmured, some of the anger having ebbed away from his voice. He squeezed the shoulder under his hand. 'Car, now,' he ordered quietly, and Neal was happy to oblige.

Second chapter will be up soon! Reviews are loved! :)