Warning: This story contains spanking. If this is not your thing, please leave. Those who choose to stay on, despite this warning and hurl insults without the courtesy of leaving contact details, will find themselves sent to the naughty corner and may or may not, depending on his mood at the time, be pulled over Peter's knee for a bare bottom spanking!
Author's Note: This story alludes to my other fic, 'Peter's Patient' but has been written as a standalone. I wrote this fic after I considered how much I would love, in this up-and-coming season, to see an episode where Peter and Jones have to pull an unconscious Neal out of a dangerous situation, one that their young partner has gone and put himself into. I also wanted to include Dr Andy, because he is the doctor I always dream of, but never end up having at a consultation. :)
CHAPTER 1
ap·pre·hen·sion ( p r -h n sh n). n. 1. Fearful or uneasy anticipation of the future; dread.
# # #
"Dammit, Neal!" FBI Agent Peter Burke pushed angrily up from this chair, slammed down his laptop lid, grabbed his gun holster, phone, car keys and jacket and marched out of the office. "Dammit, Neal!" he repeated as he all but jogged through the bullpen, signalling for his two junior agents to follow with haste. "Dammit, Neal!" Agent Burke cursed while stabbing at the elevator buttons, "You never listen!"
# # #
Three special agents, decked out in bullet proof vests and wielding their firearms, sprung out of the vehicle, barely waiting for it to stop and ducked down behind the first concrete pillar they came to. According to the tracking data Agent Berrigan had looked up while her boss drove at speed through the city's midday traffic, their young, insubordinate CI, was located somewhere in the decrepit building before them…a building that was currently in the midst of being torn to the ground.
Agent Burke cupped one ear with his free hand while trying to make out what Berrigan was shouting.
"You want me to go and shut the crane down, Boss?"
Agent Burke looked up several stories towards the demolition ball swinging towards the concrete carcase that was left of this long abandoned building and nodded. His CI was somewhere, right in the middle this disaster zone and if there were to be any chance of a rescue, they couldn't afford the luxury of waiting for backup. It was unlikely either Nathanial Navarro or any of his henchmen were stupid enough to still be in the building, or anywhere in the vicinity for that matter, but still, "Watch your back, Dianna," he shouted after the young female.
# # #
'Dammit, Neal!' The ex-con cursed himself under his breath as he pounded his shoulder into the solid wooden side panels of what appeared to be an older style, self-standing closet. Of course, he couldn't be sure it was a closet due to being enveloped in complete darkness, but the unpleasant aroma of mouldy discarded clothing, pooled at his feet led him to his conclusion soon after he'd been unceremoniously dumped into the small space by one of Navarro's man-mountains. He shouldered the side panel once more, and once more, it was to no avail. Unfortunately he had already exhausted the most obvious solutions. He'd given up trying to break out of the closet door after figuring something heavy, large and completely unmovable had been dragged across the front and the back panel was reinforced with two-inch thick cross studs – built to withstand the test of time, and one lone ex-con, desperate to escape from his latest misadventure.
Not that Peter would call it that. Peter would never use a phrase so flippant as 'a simple misadventure.' No, Peter only ever used phrases like 'completely insubordinate,' 'due process,' 'impulsive, reckless behaviour' and 'juvenile delinquent.' Somehow Peter would find a way to make it sound like his young partner had gone way outside the law to circumvent the correct legal channels in order to fast-track a dubious-at-best conviction. But that's not what had happened at all. His behaviour had not been impulsive and certainly not reckless and if everything had gone according to plan, he'd be back at the Bureau right now, regaling the suitably impressed agents with the intel he'd so brilliantly gathered during his lunch break. Of course, he hadn't left the office with the intention of going on a fact-finding mission, he'd simply left to have lunch with Mozzie. And, he hadn't expected Mozzie to be so quick with discovering, through his secret sources, that Nathaniel Navarro was taking delivery of a substantial quantity of blackmarket laptops and smart phones this very afternoon, out in the alley behind his Pizzeria. And, he hadn't intended on swinging by the Pizzeria on his way back to the Bureau but he practically had to walk right past it. And even though Peter had said he wasn't, under any circumstances, to go anywhere near Navarro's Pizzeria, he never said anything about not going, under any circumstances, for a stroll down the alley behind the Pizzeria on his way back to the Bureau.
But Peter wouldn't see it that way. He'd no doubt rant and rave about his insubordinate partner not following orders and once again his impulsive behaviour putting himself in a seriously reckless situation…and then he'd go about demonstrating just how thoroughly displeased he was with his partner's poor choices. Neal cringed at the mere thought, before accepting it may be something he would never have to worry about if he didn't get out of the closet in the next couple of minutes. The repeated thundering explosions of what sounded and felt like a cross between an earthquake and heavy artillery fire, was becoming disturbingly close.
He rammed his shoulder into the side of the closet with all his might and was immensely pleased, if not slightly alarmed, when he felt the floor of the closet lift slightly off the ground. So he rammed the side again, and this time the momentum was enough to tip the closet over. Neal braced himself for the impact of the closet hitting the floor, but it never came. Instead, the closet continued to tumble forward and Neal found his whole body and a bunch of dirty laundry, piling up against what was once the top of the cupboard, and then, as the horrifying realisation hit the young con that the closet was not only in some kind of free fall, but was picking up speed as it hurtled towards the building rubble below, he cursed himself once more. 'Dammit, Neal! If you make it out of this alive, Peter is going to kill you!'
# # #
Peter proceeded with caution as he led the way in through what was once the entrance corridor to the rapidly deteriorating building. The seasoned agent knew his actions were breaking every workplace health and safety regulation he'd ever been trained to commit to, but according to the data on his phone, his young, completely reckless, totally impulsive, in serious trouble CI, was right in the thick of all this chaos. Peter calculated he had very little time to track Neal down and haul his ass to safety before it was too late. He had ordered Jones to remain outside and call for backup but the junior agent had politely informed the older man in no uncertain terms that he was just wasting valuable time by insisting on something that was never going to happen. Peter holstered his firearm as he stepped over one of the concrete pillars lying on its side and looked up at the crane through the gaps in the flooring. "I'm pretty sure anyone in their right mind has long since vacated the premises," Peter shouted over the top of the horrific thuds, clangs and crashes.
"Explains why Caffrey's here," Jones yelled back. "Must have completely lost the plot if he thought taking on Navarro on his own was a good idea."
Peter shook his head in frustration. Jones was correct. Neal should have known better…Strike that…the kid did know better because he'd specifically ordered his young partner not to go anywhere near Navarro's Pizzeria under any circumstances. Nathaniel Navarro was a dangerous man, even more so than his younger sibling, Christopher. Peter was well aware Nathaniel Navarro personally blamed him for sending his baby brother to prison. Navarro had insinuated outside the courtroom after the trial, that should the opportunity ever arise, he'd be more than happy to return the favour. No doubt said favour had nothing to do with courtrooms or justice but more like something along the lines of snatching his CI off the streets and tying him up in a building that was being pulled to the ground.
Peter jumped back as a load of rubble landed near his feet. "Dammit, Neal!" He cursed out loud for all the good it did. "You couldn't have listened to me just this once?"
"Peter, look out!" Jones shouted has he reached forward and pulled his boss backwards to the relative safety of an overhanging beam, not a moment too soon. A jumbled mess of bricks, dirt, old clothing, concrete, wood and…and their missing CI, masquerading as a rag doll, came crashing down right where they'd been standing seconds before.
"NEAL!" both Peter and Jones shouted simultaneously as they tore over the rubble to their friend, ignoring the flying concrete pieces still making their way down from the floor above. As they approached, Peter could tell the young man was either unconscious or…
"Neal!" Peter grabbed the kid's shoulder and gently shook as Jones cleared the fallen debris off the lower half of his body. There was blood, a lot of blood. It was through Neal's hair, all over his shirt, streaming down his face. Peter didn't know which area to attend to first so instead, he slapped him softly on his cheek. "Neal, can you hear me, buddy?"
"Peter," Jones pointed upwards. "That whole level is coming down any minute. We have to get him out of here."
Peter looked up and concurred, "Grab his legs."
Together, the two agents lifted their young charge up and over the obstacles. Peter was struggling and the progress was slow, too slow. The building was all but imploding in around them. Peter grunted as he took a fistful of shirt in both hands to prevent his load from slipping to the ground. For someone who, for all intents and purposes appeared to be skin and bones, the kid was like a dead weight in Peter's arms. Jones soon noticed his boss straining so he dropped the legs and came around and grabbed Neal under his right arm. Grateful, Peter readjusted his hold and took a firm grip under the left. In the new positions, the two agents dragged their unconscious CI, the final sixty feet out of the building and into the open. As soon as they were in the relative safety of the pavement, Jones took out his cell and called for the paramedics. Peter took a couple of deep breaths and knelt down beside his young partner. They'd saved him from being buried below the building rubble…Peter reached down and tapped the kid on his cheek once more…but had they saved him in time?