So I just posted this story but I wasn't happy with the way it portrayed Neal. Please re-read this and let me know if it's better! I am completely happy with this one :)

I do not own any of the characters but I do own the story!

This is a story that contains spanking! Please turn back now if you feel you might be offended!

Agent Peter Burke of the FBI White Collar division stood in the doorway of a place he vowed never to step foot in again since the first day he met El, a gentleman's club. He had to give it credit though, it was interesting. Much nicer and cleaner then most, and it offered all kinds of things from lap dances to full escorts. But he wasn't here to enjoy the wares of such an establishment. It was a murder. And the reason it pertained to him at all was because the man who lay, just moments before, across a west african Ashanti throne ottoman (this place had really good taste he noticed again), was an art dealer. He had been moving pieces for John Francis Bode, someone Peter and Neal had been investigating for theft, really more like genocide of an entire ancient civilization, at least what remained of it. Bode had stolen almost every piece from the collection and sold it back out on the black market through...what was his name? Williams or something. Well he was dead now, his name really didn't mean jack anymore.

Peter ran his hand down the door frame as he pushed himself forward into the room. There was still mass amounts of blood staining the floors and the owner of the club was obviously more upset over her carpets then the man who was found there. Pictures were being taken and witnesses questioned. Caffrey was somewhere around here, probably flirting with one of the escorts or dancers, actually definitely flirting with one of the escorts AND dancers. Peter sighed inwardly and approached Jones.

"Is this our key witness?" He asked Jones the question but couldn't help glancing at the girl. She was beautiful, and not just in a lustful way, like truly beautiful. She really didn't even look like she belonged here other then the dress she was wearing that was pretty much transparent, oh and the heels that promised more then a nice dinner out, and was that a collar around her neck?

"Yep. Miss Anastasia was it?" Jones asked, jotting down a note.

"Actually Mistress Anastasia, if you don't mind. It's not just a choice, it's a lifestyle." She smiled amiably at the agents who both blushed slightly at the correction.

"I apologize, um...Mistress Anastasia, but I need to ask you some questions. It seems you were the only one who saw what happened." It was as much of a statement as a question, Peter adjusted his tie subtly, was it hot in here to anyone else?

"Yes agent, you are correct in that. I was actually Mr. William's escort for the evening and we were just returning from dinner. We were about to head to my chambers when it all happened." She glanced down, clearly becoming distressed. Her face was plastered with a look of regret and she bit her lip lightly.

"May I ask what you saw, Miss?" She looked up quickly at the way he addressed her, narrowing her eyes.

Peter cleared his throat and grimaced, "Mistress?" he ground out, clearly getting annoyed.

"Actually...no. I can't. Or I wont, if that's how you want to see it." She folded her arms across her chest.

Peter smiled at Jones, one of those "can you believe this chick?" kind of looks, and folded his own arms at her. "May I ask why."

"Not really but because I know I have to answer you or you'll have a reason to arrest me, I will. It's simple. Client confidentiality." She looked awfully proud of herself, standing there with her hands now on her hips.

Peter laughed. A bitter laugh but tinged with pity for the girl. She obviously didn't know how the law worked. "Anastasia", she frowned, "I'm sorry, I'm dropping the title, but listen, you can't just keep information from us. Especially when you saw the entire thing. It makes you look bad and it makes our jobs 10 times harder. Now please, tell us what you saw." He looked at her expectantly.

"I told you, agent, I wont. I know that he is dead now but he still has a right to his privacy. I have never..." She trailed off, her attention fully caught by someone who had just entered the room.

"Caffrey!" Peter waved him over, seeing him scanning the place with a little too much interest.

"Hey there Peter I was just...wow. Who is this?" He had already grabbed her hand and was bringing it to his lips when Peter huffed loudly.

"This is Anasta...oh, I'm sorry, Mistress Anastasia, and she is our sole witness to the murder. She also has decided that she isn't talking." Peter gave her a poisonous smile which she returned in full.

"Aw it's just cuz you don't know how to talk to women, Peter, it's no secret. I mean I have no idea how El even gave you a second look..." He flashed a sloppy grin at his keeper who was obviously not impressed and released Anastasia's hand back into her keeping. She was mesmerized by him and he was trying his best to keep it that way. Neal straightened back up and stuck his hands in his pockets. "Why don't you try being nice for a change and get that horrible look off your face, it doesn't suit you Peter." He shook his head at the agent who looked close to throttling him right there and inclined his head to the lady. "Mistress, would you mind enlightening us gentlemen on what you saw here tonight?"

To his surprise she shook her head. How did the Caffrey charm not work? It threw him slightly but only a small flicker of doubt that floated across his eyes was any clue that he was confused. He pressed her.

"I know that we disappointed you with our introduction," He jabbed a thumb at Peter who had had enough and threw his hands up silently, turning and all but throwing himself into a chair. "but please don't punish the ones who don't deserve it." His velvet tone sent an obvious shiver down her spine. Her eyes fluttered slightly with the way he was phrasing things, getting closer and speaking her language.

She cleared her throat and almost refused him again but then she got an idea. Something that made her weak with anticipation. Mistress Anastasia pushed past Neal, grabbing his tie and tugging him along as she headed briskly towards a very fed up agent.

"I want him."

Agent Burke looked up at her, his hand stopping at mid run through his hair. "You what?"

With the tie wrapped around her fingers and Neal looking like a puppy dog by her side she stated: "Give me him for one night and I'll tell you everything."