I love writing requests, so this is a one-shot in response to a very kind reviewer:
...And neal. Poor dear. I would love a scene where peter actually throws neal over his shoulder and drags him back for the discipline (request?)... ...And well id say im a happy camper both ways although leaning towards peter being pissed off and neal just refusing to take whats coming to him (although a fic can be both humerous and contain a pissed off peter cant it?)
I would normally inbox it to you for your review before publishing it, so that I could make any changes, so, ah, yeah, here goes-rough draft. I hope you enjoy it.
Neal strode jauntily through the elevator doors. It was a good day. Mozzie had procured a name and address for two of the suspects that were possibly involved in the money laundering ring the FBI was trying to take down. It never failed to please Neal when he could hand Peter a significant piece of the puzzle that would lead to a case closure. Neal tossed his fedora onto his desk and set his venti cup of café americano from Starbucks on his desk. Neal glanced around the office, surprised that there weren't many people at work, yet.
He looked up at Peter's office. When Peter first moved into his new office, he had tried to tease Peter about it being a 'fishbowl" because of the glass walls. Peter rolled his eyes and made some comment about not feeling like a fish on display in the aquarium, but like a king surveying his kingdom. "So what, am I your knight, then?" Neal had grinned.
"No. You're a serf. A serf who needs to wrap up the mortgage fraud case I gave you two days ago, and quit trying to hover around my new workspace." Peter had been teasing while he shooed Neal out of his office, but Neal still felt a tiny sting at his words. That damn tracking anklet.
Neal logged into his computer and pulled up as much data as he could on the two names that Mozzie had given him. He printed everything out and stuffed it neatly into one of those blue folders. On a whim he decided to leave the folder for Peter instead of showing up to the meeting with it.
Neal took the stairs two-at-a-time and found the door locked. Neal gave a quick glance around the bullpen, but since it was still empty he decided to pick the lock. He'd leave it on Peter's desk, and be back downstairs before Peter arrived. In a matter of seconds he was in Peter's office. He rolled his eyes at Peter's messy organization system. Everything was sorted, but in piles. This work space would have driven Neal nuts. He stood behind the desk and debated where to put the file so it wouldn't get lost among all of Peter's other piles of paper. He finally leaned it up against the computer monitor and turned to get out of the office. In his hurry, though, Neal bumped the edge of the desk, and sent a giant stack of folders and papers sliding across the desk. Neal watched in horror as, in slow motion, a domino effect took place. The folders slammed into a small stack of books. They wobbled precariously, and then went tumbling across the desk. One slid into Peter's "World's Greatest FBI Agent" coffee mug, and Neal stopped breathing as he watched it tumble over the edge of the desk and land with a small sounding thud.
Neal suppressed a small shriek, and began hurriedly fixing Peter's desk. After he got the files and papers rebalance in Peter's in-box, he scooped up the books. Gingerly, Neal reached down to retrieve the coffee mug, hoping that there hadn't been any residue coffee sitting in the mug. There's no way he could get a coffee stain out of the carpet before Peter arrived. He picked it up, relieved that the cup was empty. His momentary relief was crushed when he realized a large chip was missing and a hairline fracture was adorning the front of the mug. As he turned it over to check for further damage, the handle came off in his grip.
Oh, no. El gave Peter that mug when they were still dating. He loved that mug.
Neal cursed his luck and decided he would take the mug home to deal with it. He hastily shut the door behind him and instead of the elevator he headed for the stairs-he needed to reduce his chances of running into Peter while holding the remains of his coffee mug.
Neal hailed a taxi, and once settled inside, he texted a picture of the mug to Mozzie.
"Help. I need a replacement."
A few seconds later his phone rang. "You want me to go undercover into the pit of snakes, the very den of iniquity itself, just to visit the gift shop to buy you a mug?" Mozzie's tone was incredulous.
"The FBI Headquarters has a gift shop?"
"Of course. Where do you think I get the awesome badge holders and random paraphernalia like pens for our cons?"
"Moz. I don't know, I never thought about it. The question is do you have a mug now? Like, right now." Neal tried to keep the impatience from his voice.
"I don't know. Let me check." Mozzie hung up and Neal headed into his rooms at June's.
He set the broken mug down on the counter and examined it critically. There's no way he could fix that mug and not have the cracks still show. Peter was going to kill him.
Neal ran his hands through his dark hair in frustration.
He slumped down in a chair in despair. A few minutes later, Mozzie called. "I have one. Old Saul out at the Army Surplus store had one."
Neal breathed a sigh of relief. Mozzie continued, "I'll be there in 15."
Neal jumped up and began rummaging through the kitchen. He ground up some coffee beans and dumped them into a pot. He added a few cups of water and set it to boiling. He hoped he could boil it down to a thick paste that would allow him to stain the inside of the mug. He was confident he could recreate the patina from years of use.
Mozzie knocked on the door, and let himself in. He handed Neal a plastic bag and adjusted his glasses. "He'll know it's not his, it's too new."
"I know. I'll stain it. Thank you." Neal opened the box containing the mug and was relieved to see the design was identical. Mozzie had pulled off a miracle.
Mozzie was perusing Neal's wine collection. After a minute he selected a bottle of Chardonnay and headed to the door. "Well, mon frère, I am late for my cheese tasting extravaganza with Percy. Let me know how it goes, alright?"
Neal nodded at Mozzie and carefully filled the coffee mug with the nearly syrup-like concoction. Breathing a sigh of relief he grabbed his phone to tell Peter he'd be a little late into work. Instead, he saw he had several missed calls from Diana and Jones, and a bunch of text messages. He ignored their messages, and opened up the ones from Peter.
He realized, with a growing sense of dread, that he should have immediately let Peter know he'd be late to work. The first message was calm, "Hey, where are you?" but after several more, started to develop a tone of panic, "Are you okay?! I checked your anklet, why aren't you answering? Neal?" and finally, Peter's messages were starting to sound angry, "NEAL! ANSWER ME! DO NOT MAKE ME COME OVER TO YOUR HOUSE TO COLLECT YOU!"
The most recent one from Peter was very short: "On my way."
Neal glanced at the time stamp and realized he had moments before Peter's arrival. He tried to come up with a believable lie, and decided to text him back, anyway, "I'm on my way back to the office. Got there early, realized I left my phone at home. Came back to collect it."
He hurriedly swirled the contents of the coffee mug around one last time and dumped it in the sink. He gave it a quick rinse and compared it to the inside of Peter's mug. Close enough. He poured a little more of the thickened coffee, grabbed a spoon and stirred it to give the coffee mug a bit of variety and scratch marks like Peter's mug, and rinsed it again. Neal gave the slowly darkening interior a critical examination. Not his best work, by far, but if he could get the coffee mug back into the office he could fill it up with coffee, and deliver it to Peter without him knowing it had ever been replaced. He hurriedly scooped the broken mug bits into his trash can. He patted dry Peter's new mug while walking into his oversized closet. It took a few minutes but he was finally able to retrieve a briefcase that the mug could fit inside.
Feeling like he could successfully pull this off, he strode through his apartment with the briefcase. He came to a screeching halt when he saw Peter leaning against his front door.
"Um. Hi, Peter." Neal stammered, before smiling broadly at his boss.
Peter pursed his lips and raised his eyebrows in response.
"Um...So, I'm sorry I didn't let you know where I was this morning. I got to work early and I realized I forgot my phone and some stuff. So I came back for it. I thought I could make it here and back before work started." A little unnerved that Peter still hadn't moved and was continuing to block his exit, Neal edged around the table so he was standing to the side of Peter, near the couch.
"It took you two hours to find your briefcase and cell phone? Since when do you carry a briefcase?"
"Mozzie gave me some more stuff that's relevant to the money laundering case." Neal shrugged, hoping that lie was believable, too. "I'm sorry, I'm ready to go back to work."
"Is the stuff Mozzie gave you sitting on my desk?" Peter crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes at Neal.
"Yes. I figured I'd leave it for you in case I was late. I would have texted but I left my phone here." Neal gave Peter his best smile and tried to change the topic. "The gouge was good, right? Those guys are definitely involved in the money laundering."
"I'm more interested in how that file ended up in a locked room on my desk, than the contents of it." Peter finally moved away from the door. He stepped around Neal and, pausing to take off his jacket, he sat down on the couch. "In fact, I think we should talk about that."
Neal had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. He set the briefcase on top of the kitchen counter and walked into his living room. He sat on the edge of the chair across from Peter. "Would you believe me if I said that your office was unlocked?"
Peter unbuttoned his right cuff and began rolling up his sleeve. "Is that the story you're going with?"
"Why do you have to assume I'm lying?" Neal's voice was indignant.
"Because I happen to know you are." Peter started on his left sleeve. He undid the button and looked at Neal pointedly, "Is there anything you want to say before I get to do the talking?"
Neal decided to go for the innocent victim in this conversation, because he was pretty sure it was about to end up unpleasantly for him. Without having to feign any sort of indignant tone, Neal jumped to his feet and exclaimed, "I'm not lying!"
"Neal." Peter's tone was filled with promise. "Do not take that tone with me. Come here." Peter motioned for Neal to come stand in front of him. Neal's eyes narrowed at the two-finger summons. He hated when Peter made that motion at him.
He glared at Peter, and stubbornly did not move.
Peter waited patiently.
Neal, poised to fight or flee, blurted out rather desperately, "Come on, Peter! This isn't fair!"
Peter sighed. "Kid, you broke into my office. That's a federal crime, breaking into an FBI secured space. There were classified documents in there that you don't have clearance to see! I'm done having this conversation! You come here!"
"No! I didn't!" Neal couldn't help himself.
Peter was on his feet and across the room so quickly, Neal didn't realize was happening until Peter had grabbed Neal's wrist to pivot him on his heels, and landed a painful swat to his rear end. "This is not a negotiable conversation." Peter maneuvered himself into the chair behind Neal, and tried to pull him down across his lap. However, Neal was not about to let Peter have unrestricted access to his bottom. He twisted his wrist free from Peter's grip-truly, the agent wasn't holding him tightly. Peter was extremely surprised by Neal's sudden resistance. Before he could say anything, Neal turned and ran across his house.
With a speed that belied his years, Peter was on his feet and after Neal in seconds. Neal grabbed the door frame and tried to fling himself into his closet. He floundered for a second in grabbing the doorknob, which gave Peter the few precious seconds to catch up to him. Neal let out a less-than-manly shriek and tried to slam the door shut. Peter shoved his foot in the way, effectively ending any barricading efforts Neal might have been able to launch from inside his closet.
"No! Peter! I didn't break into your office! No!" Neal stepped back until he was comically enveloped by his suits. Peter, slightly angry at the fact that Neal just slammed the door onto his foot, advanced on his CI.
"Stop lying, Neal! Come here!" Peter reached for Neal's upper arm, but Neal put his hands up defensively in front of his body.
"Fine. If this is how you want to do it, fine." Peter leaned down like he was about to take a football from the quarterback. Instead, he stepped into Neal's personal space and wrapped his arms around Neal's legs. He hoisted Neal into the air, completely ignoring the undignified squawking that Neal was making. With a little bit of maneuvering, he efficiently pinned Neal's legs to his chest, and left the smaller man draped over his shoulder-his good shoulder, not the one he damaged playing baseball. Fully aware of the cramped space, and trying to avoid smacking Neal into anything, Peter turned and tried to march out of the closet.
"Put me down! Put me down! Peteeeeeeeeer! What are you-augh! Put! Me! Down!" Neal grabbed at anything, pulling suits off their hangers and knocking over a nice tie rack. He finally found purchase when Peter tried to exit the closet. Neal grasped either side of the door frame as tightly as he could.
With no concern for his own dignity he started begging Peter to put him down. "Peter, please, okay, I'm sorry, you're right, I maybe picked the lock, but I didn't touch anything, and I'm sorry I lied a few minutes ago, I just didn't want you to spank me! So, please, Peter, please just put me down! Please!"
"Neal!" Peter exclaimed sharply. "Stop!"
"Please, please, please!" Neal pulled on the door frame, trying to weasel out of Peter's grasp. "Just put me down!"
"Stop it, Neal!" Peter reached around and gave Neal a firm smack on the seat of his pants. Startled, Neal let go of the door frame to protect his bottom from any more swats. Peter took advantage and hurried through the kitchen, into the living room, and toward the couch.
Peter tucked his hand into Neal's waistband to steady him as he unceremoniously dumped him to the ground.
Neal started to pull away-but Peter yanked him back because he still had a firm grip on his pants. Neal stumbled and regained his footing. Peter took advantage of Neal's momentary lack of balance and reached up to undo his belt buckle. In a few seconds Peter had also unbuttoned and unzipped Neal's pants.
Neal tried to refasten his fly, but Peter was already yanking down his pants. The fabric slipped out of his grip as Peter tugged the pants down around his knees.
"No! No, no Peter! I didn't!"
Peter bit back the sharp retort on the tip of his tongue.
Neal reached down, bent slightly at the waist, in attempts to pull his pants up from around his knees. Peter used Neal's natural momentum by taking hold of his forearm to tip him over his knees. He effectively pinned Neal to his lap despite the struggling and barrage of complaints.
Peter took a deep breath to calm himself. "Look, kid. I saw the video footage. So I'm asking you one last time, is there anything you want to tell me?"
Neal froze at the words "video footage."
"What?" he tried to twist around to look at Peter's face.
"Yeah. Imagine my surprise when the security guard on duty calls to tell me that my CI just picked my lock and broke into my office, and was trashing the place." Peter took another deep breath to calm himself. He used his left arm to pull Neal close.
Recognizing defeat, Neal slumped over Peter's lap and mumbled "I'm sorry. I wasn't trashing your office. And I didn't think about it being a secure space. I just wanted you to see my report right away."
"God damn it, Neal." Peter glared at the skinny man sprawled over his lap. He ran his hand through the back of Neal's tangled mop of dark hair. Neal, resigned to fact that he was really and truly in for it now had crossed his arms and buried his face in the crook of his elbow.
"Do you know what I'm really upset about?"
"That I ran?" Neal's voice was muffled.
"No. Well a little. Mainly I'm mad that you lied to me, Neal."
"I just didn't want you to be angry!"
"Then you shouldn't have lied!" Exasperated, Peter pulled down Neal's boxers.
Neal frantically shook his head and tried to cover his bottom while trying to squirm out of Peter's grasp. Peter, however, grabbed Neal's wrists and maneuvered his arms out of the way.
Peter rested his right hand on Neal's bottom. "Why are you getting this spanking?"
"Come on Peter, please!" Neal felt his face flush bright red. It was bad enough getting a spanking, but having to explain to Peter why he deserved one somehow made the whole experience worse.
"I'm waiting." Peter's voice was firm and brooked no argument.
"I broke into your office, I lied about it, I was disrespectful a few minutes ago when I ran away, but I wasn't trying to be!" Neal recited with the tiniest tone of resentment, before he started to plead, "Come on, Peter, don't spank me, please! I was just trying to leave the information for you because I wanted you to be proud of me!"
"Neal! You broke into my office! And then lied about it!" Peter was exasperated. "I am proud of you. You do great work, and are a wonderful, kind person, and lots of other reasons I'm proud of you-but that behavior does NOT make me happy with you, or proud. I expect better behavior from you, and you know it! You have no excuse."
Neal opened his mouth to argue, but without any warning, Peter began spanking Neal.
Peter smacked Neal's bottom, alternating cheeks. He quickly fell into a rhythm. Peter's hand was so large that he could almost cover Neal's entire bottom. Each time he swatted Neal it was hard enough to flatten his cheeks. Despite Neal's best efforts to flex away the sting, his cheeks still wobbled after every swat. It wasn't until Neal started making small, muffled squealing noises and pushing his feet against the sofa's armrest in time with Peter's falling hand that he slowed. Peter cracked his hand against Neal's right cheek and roughly kneaded the reddened spot. He repeated it on the left cheek. He took a moment to lecture Neal while his hand worked over his derrière. "Breaking and entering! Really? In FBI headquarters? Have you no respect for my personal property or workspace?!" His hand stilled on Neal's bottom.
"I'm sorry!" Neal knew Peter was barely getting started, but he hoped a little bit of contriteness would stave off the worst of the spanking.
"No, you're only sorry you got caught!" Peter cupped his hand against Neal's cheek, and angled his swats against Neal's "sit spots." Instead of causing his cheeks to flatten like before, he aimed his hand for the small crease where Neal's rounded bottom met his thighs. Each of Peter's swats made Neal feel like his bottom was being lifted into the air. Neal was soon kicking his legs as the stinging sensation built. He wiggled around on Peter's lap, trying to make his bottom a smaller target, until Peter shifted Neal's weight across his thighs. Peter used his free arm to grab Neal's narrow waist and pull him tightly against his stomach. He continued his onslaught against Neal's bottom. "If that security guard had decided to arrest you, instead of calling me, where do you think we'd be right now, hmm?"
Neal almost opened his mouth to say "I wouldn't be getting a spanking right now, that's where I'd be!" but his sense of self-preservation overrode that urge. Besides, he was really starting to regret acting on the whim to break into Peter's office. Even though he managed to keep his sarcastic retort to himself, Neal couldn't keep from squeaking out less-than-manly noises of discomfort.
He tried to reach his hand back to cover his bottom, but Peter grabbed his wrist and held it against his side. Neal's bottom was a bright cherry red and he was starting to whimper as Peter spanked him. He buried his face in the couch cushion, and tried to suppress the tears that were now threatening to fall.
Peter gave him a small reprieve and rubbed the sting out of his bottom-this time considerably more gently than at the start of his spanking. "Neal. If that was for breaking and entering, and trashing the place, what do you think the second half is for?"
"No, no, no! Peter! No!" Neal tried to roll off Peter's lap. Peter couldn't abide lying. That was the fastest way for Neal to end up in tears, and possibly standing in the corner. He knew that Peter really had taken it easy on him, all things considered, for the first half of the spanking. Neal, while close to tears, actually hadn't started sobbing yet.
"Please don't! Please no, no no! No!" One hand was protectively covering his bottom, the other was frantically trying to push Peter's hand away from Neal's hip so he cold escape.
He gave Neal a sharp swat, "Be still and answer my question, or you can stand in the corner while I go fetch the paddle!" Neal froze, and had to remind himself to breath. He tucked his hands under his chest and mumbled, "because I lied."
Peter sighed. He really should make Neal go get the small paddle and bend over the bed. The only time he got really upset with Neal was when he lied-and Neal had done that with spectacular form today. However, confronting Neal about something and watching him fail in a lie was considerably less angering than finding out Neal had been feeding him lies and trying to con him for days or weeks at a time.
"Peter, I'm sorry, I won't lie again, but you just came in here ready to spank me like I was already guilty and didn't even give me a chance to explain so I was desperate!" Neal tried to talk Peter out of continuing the spanking.
Peter rolled his eyes. "Because you are guilty, Neal! I watched the tape of you picking my lock!"
"But it's not fair!" Neal clenched his butt and crossed his ankles while he waited for Peter to star the second half of his spanking. Realizing he was treading on thin ice by arguing with Peter, he added, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"
Peter shook his head. "I am very disappointed in you for lying to me, Neal."
And with that pronouncement, Peter started the second half of Neal's punishment. He didn't focus on any one spot, but instead tried to cover Neal's bottom as evenly as possible. It didn't take long until Neal was again pleading and squirming. As he struggled to get away from Peter's swats the tears started rolling down his cheeks. As Peter continued, Neal's bottom turned darker and darker. Neal was starting to panic because he didn't think Peter was going to stop anytime soon. "Please, Peter, stop, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I won't lie anymore, I'm sorry I lied, please forgive me, Peter, I'm sorry!"
Peter ignored his crying and expressed his irritation with Neal's childish behavior in no uncertain terms. Neal continued to pull away from Peter, despite his best efforts to keep him pinned. "Every single time I spank you, I hear the same promises, Neal! 'I won't lie again!' and, 'I'm sorry, Peter, I'm sorry!'" Peter did a pretty good impersonation of Neal's pleading.
"If you really meant it, you wouldn't be over my lap again! I thought you promised to not ever lie to me again! And yet, here we are!" Peter continued his lecture while spanking, even though he had to talk loudly over Neal's crying. Neal tucked his arms under his chest and pushed up, lifting his upper body off of Peter's lap. Ignoring Neal's struggles because he still had his arm wrapped in a firm grip around Neal's waist, Peter finished his admonishment. His voice was firm as he continued, "I am disappointed! And hurt! And angry! Stop! Lying! To! Me!"
Peter's pronouncement that Neal had disappointed him was too much for Neal's stubborn will. He collapsed against Peter and snaked his right hand down to clutch at Peter's ankle and buried his face in his left arm. "I'm sorry, Peter, I'm sorry, sorry, sorry, sorrrry!"
Still feeling aggravated at Neal's penchant for disobedience, but sensing his point had been made, Peter stopped spanking and pulled Neal's boxers and pants up over his bottom. He ran his hand in soothing circles over Neal's back while he cried, face down over Peter's lap. He tried to wipe away his tears. Still sniffling he pushed him self off Peter's lap. Peter helped him sit up, and wrapped his arms around Neal in a hug.
"I'm sorry I disappointed you."
Peter sighed into the top of Neal's head, his messy hair sticking in all directions. "I know you are, kid. Please don't lie to me again."
"'kay." Neal's voice was small. "Do you forgive me?" he asked.
"Yes, I forgive you, of course I do." Peter gave Neal a small squeeze to reassure him. "Go wash your face. I'll pull the car around, okay?"
Neal nodded and stood up. He walked with Peter to the door, and impulsively grabbed him to give him another hug. "I'm really sorry."
Peter hugged him back with a smile. "I forgive you, Neal."
Neal hurried to wash his face, fix his hair, and straighten his suit. He grabbed his fedora and briefcase, and ran down the stairs. He slid gingerly into the passenger's seat.
Peter suppressed a smile. "It wasn't even that severe of a spanking!" Neal felt a blush creep up his face and into his hairline at Peter's gentle teasing.
"Well next time we can trade places!" Neal retorted, and crossed his arms in a huff.
"Your face is as red as your bottom was." Peter chuckled when Neal pulled down the visor and opened up the mirror. He was slightly mortified to realize his face was really red.
Peter reached over and messed up Neal's hair. "You're okay, kid. The blush will go away by the time we get into work, and even if it doesn't, everyone will assume it's because I chewed you out."
"You definitely did give me a scolding I'll remember." Neal reached to change the radio station, and Peter decided to let him. Neal started to relax during the rest of the car ride, and by the time they arrived at FBI headquarters, Neal was no longer blushing and able to ignore the tingling in his bottom. They walked into headquarters. Fortunately for Neal's sense of pride, no one much seemed to notice. Diana gave him a "what the hell?" look, but didn't say anything.
Peter continued up to his office and Neal sat down at his desk. He popped open the briefcase as discreetly as possible and carefully removed Peter's new mug. He grabbed his mug from the corner of his table and headed over to the coffee machine. He checked the filter, and made a new pot. While he was waiting for it to brew, Diana snuck up behind him.
"So, trying to bribe your way back in Peter's good graces?" She teased Neal.
He flicked a packet of sugar at her in response.
"Please don't ever be late again, Neal, because he was freaking out this morning." Diana reached out and patted Neal's arm. "He really cares about you."
Neal bit his lip, feeling a little guilty for making Peter anxious. "Really?"
"Yes." Diana took a sip of her coffee. "I've never seen him get so upet over anyone else being late." She smiled at Neal and headed toward the stairs. She said over her shoulder, "After you bring your bribe to Peter, come over to the conference room. The information you put together on the money laundering cadre is really good. Jones and I have some questions, though."
Neal nodded, feeling strangely like time was suspended. Work felt normal, it was continuing on around him as if he hadn't been late. It was like the spanking this morning had never happened. He poured a fresh cup of coffee for Peter and him, and headed up to his boss' office. About halfway up the stairs he became aware that Peter was watching him. He felt his face start to redden a little, reminded of Diana's teasing comment about "bribing his way into Peter's good graces." He hoped no one else at work would think he was kissing up to Peter, even though he knew that's exactly what it looked like.
He pushed open Peter's office door with his shoulder and carefully set his mug down on his desk. Peter watched him with raised eyebrows, but didn't say a thing. "I, uh, I just wanted to say again that I'm sorry."
Peter pursed his lips and picked up the coffee mug. "I don't remember you coming up here to retrieve this before bringing me coffee." Peter took a sip, and added, "I appreciate the gesture, though."
"I might've lifted it from your office earlier."
"I see." Peter turned the mug around, looking at it with a critical eye. He looked up at Neal questioningly.
"So, ah, okay, anyway, that's it. Just wanted to apologize again. Really. I'm sorry I broke in and for lying."
Neal turned to walk out of the office but froze mid-step when Peter said, "I really appreciate the lengths you went to in repairing my mug, Neal. I can't even tell that you broke the handle."
Neal turned around slowly. "I didn't-" he started to deny that he had ever broken the mug but clamped his mouth shut mid-sentence.
"You didn't, what, exactly, Neal?" Peter could hardly believe Neal was trying to lie to him again, not even a full thirty minutes since he spanked him for this very thing.
Neal floundered for a second, and finally mumbled. "I didn't think you noticed it. I thought you would have said something. You know, earlier. When you spanked me."
"Oh?"
"Well, being that El gave it to you, and it has sentimental importance, and stuff..." Neal trailed off weakly. "I'm sorry I broke it. And I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner." Neal couldn't meet Peter's eyes.
"Sit down, Neal." Peter's tone was firm, but kind. He watched Neal gingerly sit in the chair across from Peter's desk. He set his green mug on the desk in front of him and stared at his hands in his lap.
"That's why you were late this morning?"
Neal still didn't look up at Peter. He nodded his head.
"Neal, I'm not mad about the coffee mug. Even if you hadn't repaired it, I wouldn't have been angry about it being broken. It's just a coffee mug. I was, however, upset you didn't tell me. I was upset that you lied about being in my office. But we already dealt with that, right?" When Neal didn't immediately respond, Peter asked, "Or, do we need to have another conversation about lying to me?"
Neal could feel the blush starting to creep into his cheeks. He finally made eye contact with Peter. "Yes, we dealt with it. No, I don't need to repeat that conversation."
"So next time you crack my coffee mug, just tell me. My mug isn't as important to me as you are. I'd rather have a fractured coffee mug than a fractured relationship. Do you understand?" Peter rested his elbows on his desk and leaned across it toward Neal.
"Yes, sir." Neal searched Peter's face. He could only see genuine care in Peter's eyes.
"Okay. Let's go debrief Jones and Diana on this money laundering, shall we?" Peter stood up, and grabbed his coffee mug before heading out of the office. Neal grabbed his coffee mug too, and trailed behind Peter with a faint smile on his face.
Author's Note: So, I was going to update By Any Means Necessary today...However, I had so many weird and mixed reviews on the last chapter that I decided I needed to take a break from it. I really hope you enjoyed this one-shot, because I love taking prompts and I had fun writing it.
Sorry it's a little excessively long for a standard one-shot...
kiss, kiss!