Stolen Painting
Summary: When the owner of an art gallery ticks off Neal, he decides to make him pay. But Neal's guilty conscience won't let him get away with it. WARNING: Contains the disciplinary spanking of an adult male.
Note: Set in season two.
Note: I know Peter wouldn't spank Neal on the show, but this is fan-FICTION
Note: This is my first fan-fiction story I have written. I have written a few short stories and essays though.
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Peter and Neal walked into a large prestigious art gallery.
"Nice place." Neal said, looking around. "I love the Henries painting, right near the emergency exit."
"Remember." Peter said, giving Neal a stern look. "We are here to check the security, not rob the place."
"What better way to…."
"Good afternoon gentlemen." A middle-aged man in an expensive suite said as he walked over.
"Mr. Jeffries?" Peter asked, showing his badge.
"Yes." The smile on the man's face disappeared.
"I'm Agent Burke, this is Neal Caffrey."
"Of course." He said, giving Neal a distasteful look. "The insurance company insisted on the FBI inspecting my security system. I do not know why, there is no way someone will be able to steal anything here."
"If you're right, then our inspection will only reinforce that." Peter said.
"I see a flaw already." Neal said, not liking the man from the start. "The Henries painting is worth over a million dollars, yet it is placed directly beside a door."
"When that door is opened, the alarm will sound." Jeffries said, obviously angry at Neal's comment. "Plus, the guards will not allow anyone to open the door."
"Are the security guards here at night?" Peter wondered.
"No, but the door is locked when the gallery is closed. My gallery is robbery-proof. No one can enter at night without tripping off the alarms." He looked at Neal coldly. "Not even the great Neal Caffrey. I know who you are, and I deplore the idea of you in my gallery. But the insurance company insisted upon it."
"It won't take us but a couple of hours." Peter said.
"Fine, just stay away from the customers." Then the man stormed off.
"Peter." Neal started, but the older man held a hand up to stop him.
"Do not do anything stupid." Peter warned him.
"If I break in here and steal a painting, then it will prove to Jeffries that his…."
"No Neal." Peter hissed. "The insurance company authorized us to inspect and give Jeffries our findings. That is it. I asked about pulling off a fake robbery, they said no. So the answer is no."
"Fine." Neal mumbled, not happy about it. He would have loved to prove Jeffries wrong, and rub his nose in it.
/
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By the time Peter and Neal were finished with their inspection, the gallery was closed and the janitor was cleaning up. She was an older heavy set woman with graying hair, and was currently wiping a display table.
"Do you call this clean?" Jeffries asked, as he stormed over to the woman and pointed to another display case. "How am I supposed to display the genius of Monet, with a filthy display? You have been here long enough to know how to clean a display properly"
"Don't Neal." Peter whispered, as Neal took a step towards the man. Neal hated to see women talked to like that, and Peter knew it. Peter wasn't happy about it either, but he had more self-restraint then Neal.
"Now clean it again, and this time do it correctly." Jeffries fumed.
"Mr. Jeffries." Peter said, walking over. "We have finished our inspection."
"This way." He said, annoyed. He led Peter into a back office.
Neal walked over to the janitor, who was re-cleaning the display.
"Some bosses are jerks." Neal said, as he took a rag from her cart and started helping her wipe the display. Neal had no idea what Jeffries was talking about, the display looked clean to him.
"Some are better then others." The woman said, with a smile. "I'm used to it, I've been cleaning for Mr. Jeffries for three years now."
"I would have had to put some type of corrosive cleaner in his coffee by now." Neal said, as he laid the rag down and picked up a flyer advertising the gallery. "And I am not normally a violent person." He started folding the paper.
The woman laughed and said, "I have considered doing just that, but I need this job. Mr. Jeffries can be a jerk, but he pays well."
Neal showed the woman the paper, which was now a rose.
"You are very talented." She said, as he gently placed the rose in her hair behind her ear. "Thank you."
"Come on Neal." Peter said, as he walked past the younger man. Neal could tell that the man was not in a good mood.
"Looks like both of our bosses are in a bad mood." The woman said.
"Looks like it." Neal said with his charming smile. "But I know how to handle a ticked off Fed."
"And how is that?" She asked.
"Now Caffrey!" Peter boomed as he walked out of the gallery.
"But doing what he says and doing it quickly." Neal winked, as he quickly followed Peter.
/
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"So." Neal asked, as Peter pulled into traffic. "What did giggles say?"
"That we were wrong and that there was nothing wrong with his security."
"We found….."
"I know what we found." Peter cut him off. "But it's not our concern now. We gave him our findings, our job is finished."
"Until he gets ripped off." Neal said.
"Yeah." Peter replied, then he glanced sideways and caught a look in the younger man's face that he didn't like. "Neal." He said. "Stay away from the gallery and away from Jeffries. I mean it."
"Fine." Neal sighed.
/
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One week later, Peter and Neal were trying to close a bond forgery scam. Neal had gone undercover as an expert forger, which was an easy assignment for him. He was currently standing outside an office building that was being used as a front. He had to go outside to call Peter and used smoking a cigarette as a cover.
"Hey Peter." Neal said into the phone. "Any chance I can get hazard pay?"
"Rowe isn't that dangerous." Peter's voice said.
"I'm not talking about Rowe, I'm talking about risking the health of my lungs."
"Don't inhale."
Neal was about to make a comment on that, but stopped when he saw the janitor from Jeffries gallery walking towards him.
"Gotta go Peter."
He hung up and stepped away from the building. "Good morning." He said with a smile.
"Good morning." She said, also smiling.
"I'm Neal Caffrey." He said. "I didn't get your name."
"Helen Brown."
"What are you doing this beautiful morning, Helen Brown?"
"Starting a new job."
"Really, finally get tired of Jeffries?"
"No, actually he got tired of me." Her smile disappeared.
"He fired you?" Neal asked with a frown. "Why?"
"He said it was because he wanted someone with more experience." She said. "When I went there this morning to pick up my last paycheck, I saw my replacement. She was in her early twenties, with very long legs that she didn't mind showing off."
"He can't get away with….." Neal started.
"It is okay." Helen cut him off with a smile. "I already have a new job, and my new boss seems a lot nicer then Jefferies." She looked at her watch. "But he may get angry if I'm late on my first day. It was very good to see you again."
"You too, and good luck."
Neal watched her walk away. He was really mad, Jeffries had no right firing Helen. He smiled and looked down at his ankle, his now tracker-free ankle. Peter had removed the tracker while he was undercover.
"Time for payback." Neal said, a plan forming in his mind. He figured that they would be able to arrest Rowe the following morning, so he had to act fast.
/
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"How'd it go?" Peter asked, as the younger man walked into his office later that day.
"Pretty good." Neal said, sitting down. "I'm supposed to meet his tonight around midnight."
"Okay. You still think we will have enough to arrest him in the morning."
"Yep." Neal was starting to feel guilty. But it wasn't really a lie; he was supposed to meet Rowe at Midnight. That part was true. But he left out the part where he planned on going to Jeffries' gallery after the meeting and stealing a painting. He knew it was wrong and knew it was dangerous. But he had to put Jeffries in his place.
/
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The meeting with Rowe went according to the plan, everything was set for that morning. After the meeting, Neal went to the gallery. The security was good, but Neal was better. Within an hour, he had a Monet painting.
By the time Neal made it back to June's, he was feeling extremely guilty.
"Damn it." Neal sighed, as he slumped down on his sofa. "When did I develop a conscience?" But he already knew the answer to his question. It was when he met Peter. Before he met Peter, he could steal anything and never think twice about it.
But not now, now he couldn't stop thinking about it. About how he could go back to prison. About how Peter could get in trouble for removing his tracker. About how Peter put his trust into him and how he betrayed that trust. And about how having the painting in June's house could get her into trouble.
Neal looked at the painting, sitting on the table in front of him.
"I've got to take you back." He said, standing up. The decision surprised him, he never returned things he stole. Never. But he knew he had too, knew he had to get rid of the painting so his guilty feeling would go away.
And he knew he had to do it before Peter showed up with his tracker, once the tracker was on he wouldn't be able to do it.
"Great." Neal mumbled when he heard a knock at the door. "Peter's here."
Neal grabbed the painting and ran into the bedroom, sliding the painting under the bed. Then he opened the door to find Peter standing there, holding the tracker.
"How'd it go?" Peter asked, as he walked in.
"Great." Neal said, forcing a smile on his face.
Peter handed Neal the tracker and the young man had no choice but to put it back on.
"Be ready at seven." Peter said. "The take down happens at nine."
"I know." Neal said, trying not to let his irritation show. He was wondering how he was going to replace the painting now. The gallery opened in less in ten hours.
"You okay?' Peter asked.
"Yeah, I'm fine."
"You don't look fine." Peter said. "Something happen with Rowe?"
"No, everything went according to plan."
"Then what is it?"
"Nothing!" Neal snapped. Then he took a deep breath and said in a more calm voice. "I'm tired."
"Get some sleep." Peter said, not convinced. He knew something was wrong.
"I will, see you at seven."
Peter left, but he had a funny feeling. He knew Neal was up to something.
/
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Two hours later, Neal lay awake in bed. He couldn't stop thinking about all of the bad stuff that could happen since he had stolen the painting. He kept trying to convince himself that he was right in stealing it, that Jeffries had it coming. He kept telling himself that he did it for Helen.
But he knew that wasn't entirely true. Helen seemed like a very decent woman, he knew she would not approve of stealing. He knew the real reason he stole the painting was because of spite, because he didn't like Jeffries. He had stolen stuff for less of a reason, but that was before he became a consultant. Before Peter put his trust in him.
"Damn it." Neal sighed, sitting up. "Okay, think Caffrey." He mumbled. "I could cut the anklet, return the painting, and take what ever punishment Peter gives me for cutting it. But that belt of his hurts, and I do not want another spanking with it."
Peter had only spanked him four times in the past several months, but those four times had been more then enough for Neal's liking. But he had to admit, the spankings did their job, made him think twice before doing whatever he did do again. And they made the guilt go away, made him feel better. But they hurt, and Neal Caffrey didn't like pain.
"I can just go to Peter and tell him the whole truth." Neal said to himself. "But then he'd have no choice but to throw me back in prison. I know he won't want to, but it's his job. And I don't want him in trouble because of my stupidity. If I return it myself, then go to Peter, he won't be implicated in it."
Neal stood up, but then slumped back down onto the bed. "I could still wind up back in prison for cutting the anklet though." Then he stood back up with determination on his face. "But Peter won't get in trouble. I don't have a choice."
Neal quickly dressed and grabbed the painting, then he cut his anklet and hurried out of the house. He knew he didn't have much time.
/
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The shrill ringing of the phone woke up Peter and Elizabeth, both moaned. Elizabeth reached over and grabbed the phone, then passed it to her husband. She knew the call was for him. All calls this time of night was for him.
"Agent Burke." Peter said. "He what?" Peter shot up in bed. "Where?" Peter hung up and got out of bed.
"What is it?" Elizabeth asked.
"Neal cut his tracker."
"Why?"
"I think I know." Peter grumbled, as he started getting dressed. "This is going to send him right back to prison." He said angrily. "I can't believe he can be this stupid."
"What is it, Peter?"
"Remember me telling you about Jeffries?"
"Yeah." Then she stared at him in shock. "Peter, you don't think he will try to steal a painting."
"Yes I do."
"You have to stop him."
"I know."
Peter kissed his wife, then rushed out of the house.
/
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Neal had retuned the painting, and was now a block from the gallery. He checked his phone and saw that he had fifteen missed calls from Peter. With a heavy sigh, he called him back. Then jumped when he heard a ringing phone directly behind him. He turned around to see a very angry Peter standing there.
"Hey Peter." Neal said nervously.
"Have you stolen it yet?" Peter asked coldly.
"Yes." Neal said. He had already decided to come clean and tell Peter everything.
"How could you be so stupid?" Peter hissed. "All because you don't like Jeffries. Because of you, now our whole case against Rowe is destroyed. You can't meet with him if you're in prison. Did you even think about the consequences before you pulled off this bone headed stunt?"
"No." Neal admitted. "I didn't think until after I stole the painting, then I couldn't stop thinking."
Peter ran a tired hand over his face, trying to calm down. He couldn't believe he was about to say this, but he couldn't let Neal go back to prison. "Return the painting, I will come up with some kind of excuse about the anklet."
"What?" Neal asked, slightly surprised.
"I said return the damn painting." Peter snapped.
"I already did." Neal said.
"What?"
"I stole the painting after my meeting with Rowe, I just returned it."
"Why?"
"Because after meeting you, I gained a conscience." Neal said. "I was going to tell you everything, but I was waiting until after I returned the painting so you wouldn't get implicated in anything."
Peter looked at the younger man and saw remorse in his blue eyes, an emotion that he had never seen there before. "You really are trying to go straight." Peter said.
"Yeah, but it's hard."
"Come on." Peter said, draping an arm over his shoulders. "We have to catch Rowe in a few short hours. You can sleep at my place."
"So I'm not in trouble?" Neal asked confused.
"You are in a ton of trouble, buddy." Peter said. "With me, not the Bureau. We will discuss it after the bust, and after we've both had a rest."
"How much trouble am I in?"
"Let's just say that sitting won't sound like a good idea for a very long time."
"What about the tracker? Won't the Bureau want to know why it was cut?"
"Don't worry about that, I can fix it. Claim it was just a miscommunication about when you needed it cut for the case."
"Thanks Peter." Neal said, sincerely.
/
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The bust went down smoothly, Rowe and his partners were caught and no one was hurt during the bust. Peter and Neal went back to Peter's house. They were alone, Elizabeth was still at work.
"Time to talk." Peter said, motioning for Neal to sit on the sofa. Peter sat on the coffee table in front of the younger man. "So talk."
"You know what happened." Neal said.
"I want to here it from you."
"I was angry at Jeffries." Neal said with a sigh. "He fired Helen."
"Helen?"
"The janitor."
"Oh."
"He is conceited, rude, and not a nice person."
"So you thought it would be okay to steal from him?"
"I did until I actually stole it." Neal said, looking down. "Then I felt awful."
"Do you know all of the consequences that could have happened?" Peter asked, his voice was calm, but Neal could still hear the anger.
"Yeah."
"List them."
"Come on Peter." Neal said getting annoyed.
"Now." Peter's voice left no room for argument.
"I could have went back to prison." Neal said, still looking down. His voice was soft. "You could have gotten in trouble for taking the anklet off. June could have gotten in trouble because I brought the stolen painting to her house."
"All because you were pissed off at Jeffries." Peter said.
"Yeah."
"Neal, I want you to know that I am proud of you."
"What?" Neal's head shot up and he looked at Peter in confusion.
"You returned the painting on your own, you knew it was wrong and you were trying to make it right. You thought of other people and how your decision could affect them."
"So that means I'm in the clear?"
"What do you think?"
"I think I'm going to have trouble sitting."
"Correct."
Neal nodded and said "I know I deserve it."
Peter stood up and said. "Drop the pants and shorts."
"What?" Neal asked, not moving. He had never been spanked on the bare.
"This is big." Peter said. "I want to make sure that next time, you think it's a bad idea before you steal the painting. Not after."
Neal slowly stood up and unbuckled his belt, then lowered his pants and boxer shorts. Then he bent over and placed his palms on the smooth surface of the coffee table. He heard Peter removing his belt and closed his eyes.
The first lick caused Neal to yelp in pain and surprise; the belt hurt more on the bare. Neal took the next three licks without making a sound, but he felt tears welling up in his eyes. His butt felt like it was on fire.
The fifth lick landed on his tender sit spot and the tears started running down his face. The sixth and seventh landed in the exact same spot, and Neal couldn't resist the urge to throw his hands back to cover his burning butt.
"Move your hands, Neal." Peter said, his voice was firm.
"It hurts, Peter." Neal cried out.
"It's supposed to hurt, that's why it's a punishment."
Neal slowly moved his hands back to the table, as he started crying harder.
"Keep your hands on the table, I don't want to hit them by mistake."
Neal nodded, but didn't say anything.
Licks eight and nine landed in the middle of his butt, and had Neal sobbing. The next one landed on his sit spot again.
"Owwww!" Neal cried out, as the burn intensified. He didn't think he would be sitting down for a least a week. "N….no more."
"Just a couple more, Buddy." Peter's voice was kind. He knew his friend was hurting, and he felt terrible that it was him that was causing him pain. But he also knew that Neal had to learn.
With a deep sigh, Peter brought the belt down hard twice in rapid secession on the back of Neal's thighs.
Neal's sobbing increased.
Peter stepped away from the younger man to give him time to recover, as he replaced his belt. Neal stayed bent over for a few moments, trying to stop crying. He finally stood up and pulled his boxer shorts up over his throbbing butt. Then he kicked out of his shoes and stepped out of his pants, he didn't want to pull them up over his abused backside.
"I'm sorry I was so hard on you." Peter said, placing a hand on his shoulder and looking him in the eyes. "But you have to learn that you can't do things like that anymore."
"I know." Neal sniffled.
Peter pulled him into a brief hug, which Neal gratefully returned.
"Why don't you go to your room and rest?" Peter said.
"My room?"
"You're the only one who spends the night." Peter replied, as he picked up Neal's pants for him and folded them. "It's your room."
"Sounds great." Neal smiled, despite the throbbing pain.
Neal slowly walked up the stairs and into his room. His room, he thought with a smile. "Wonder if Peter will let me re-decorate?" Neal said to himself, as he pulled off his jacket and shirt, leaving on his white tee-shirt. He laid down on his stomach and fell asleep.
THE END
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