AUTHOR'S NOTE: This first chapter may be familiar to some readers as it was pasted at the end of the original Moppets fic, many moons ago. I finally got around to picking up where it left off thinking the Moppets needed to get themselves into a whole lot more mischief after being in trouble for something they didn't do!

WARNING: This fic contains spanking of a child. If that is of a concern, please don't read.

Moppets Visit the Bureau

Agent Peter Burke slid his house key into the lock of his Brooklyn townhouse and opened the outer front door. He smiled to himself while thinking how good it was to be home. He missed his family while at work and it took him a fair effort to stay focused on the white collar cases rather than thinking about what everyone was getting up to without him during the day. He stepped inside the inner door and placed his briefcase on the ground. The house was quiet, way too quiet! And by the way, where were his welcome home hugs? El was in the kitchen, he could tell from the clanging of the saucepan lids and from the distinct aroma of slow cooked beef casserole waffling through. Perhaps the boys were off having their shower. El had this thing about them coming to the dinner table all clean and germ free. Peter thought it was bordering on pedantic but he let it be and didn't interfere. The agent stepped into the living area and, being the seasoned FBI investigator that he was, immediately noticed something amiss. Two dining chairs, oddly placed, facing two separate corners, each holding one moppet a piece. Peter hadn't seen this configuration before but he guessed it must be some type of 'naughty chair' set up. He looked over at Mozzie. The boy was sitting on the chair, his legs up and folded on the seat, elbows resting on his thighs like he was in some type of meditation pose. "Hello Mozzie."

"Hi Peter." The nine year old didn't turn around or move from his contemplative position.

Peter turned to the other corner. The littlest moppet was kneeling on the floor, his arms resting on the seat of the chair. He peered up at Peter through the gap in frame at the back of the dining chair. "Hello Neal." A short time passed but no reply. Peter waited a moment before trying again. "Hello Neal."

"I not awoud to peak."

Peter raised his eyebrows. "Oh, fair enough." Continuing on through to the kitchen, he thought he'd better get the lowdown from the boss first, before any further investigating took place.

"Hi honey, how was your day?" El greeted her husband.

"Very satisfying. We finally made significant progress on the Watershed Case this afternoon. Should be able to make an arrest by the end of the week at the latest. And tell me El, how was your afternoon? When I called you at lunch, all was quiet. No injuries, no illness, no serious infractions so I'm guessing the crime took place sometime in the last couple of hours?"

"About an hour ago."

"I see. So who, what and HOW!" The last word was shouted by the agent as an extremely strange little creature came padding into the kitchen. "What the?" Peter was trying not to shout. "That's not…"

"Satchmo?" El nodded confirming all Peter's fears. His poor little puppy had been turned into some designer art project.

"Yeah, I was thinking maybe, but Satchmo's not fluorescent green and candy pink, plus, the last time I looked he had hair on his legs."

"I wasn't sure if you'd notice." El gave Peter a cheeky grin. "Poor pup's had a bit of a makeover courtesy of one of our little moppets."

"A bit! He couldn't look any more different if he'd morphed into a mountain goat!"

El chuckled, "You don't think that's a slight exaggeration, hon? Plus, Satchmo doesn't seem to care. I think he fancies all the attention he's been getting since the transformation."

"Perhaps if we showed him what he looked like in the mirror he might care." The puppy was licking Peter's shoes, oblivious of the fact that the conversation from above was centered on his appearance. "So which one of the delinquents did the dirty deed, as if I couldn't guess already?"

"Well, neither of the boys have owned up to it yet?"

"Really?" Peter raised his eyebrows as he swiped a finger across the lemon meringue pudding set aside for desert. "Hence the 'naughty chairs'?"

"Yeah. I told them they could stay there until either I finished cooking the dinner or you arrived home from work. Whichever came first. And since I'm still cooking the veggies, the file for their latest criminal exploit has landed squarely on your desk, Agent Burke." Elizabeth winked at her husband. "Lucky you!"

"El, it wouldn't be the case that you deliberately delayed mashing the potatoes so you could pass up on having to handle the investigation… would it?"

"Oh please, nothing so sinister. I just had the steamer on too low by accident. Must have bumped the dial when I removed it from the cupboard earlier."

"Of course." Peter didn't buy it for a second. "So how long till dinner?"

"About twenty minutes."

"Well I guess I better go and deal with the architect of this particular offense."

"Good luck."

"Like I need it," Peter shot over his shoulder as he pushed open the kitchen door.

"Right! Front and center!" Peter snapped his fingers and the two little mischief makers sprang from their naughty chairs and placed themselves before the agent. He took a moment to study the expressions on the youthful little faces before him. One bored and offended, the other, guilty as all hell. "So boys, which one of you decided our poor little puppy needed a cut and color?" There was no response to his enquiry, only squirming and sighing. "Okay, let's try this, I'm going to ask the question one more time and then I'm going to count backwards from three. When I get to zero there are going to be some serious consequences for refusing to answer. Understand?"

Both boys nodded but remained silent.

"Perfect, now, which of you painted Satchmo and cut the hair on his legs?" Peter paused before he began the count. "Three."

Neal looked unhappily over at his older friend before gazing up at Peter with hurt puppy dog eyes. Peter crossed his arms and frowned at the littlest moppet. "Two."

Mozzie put his hands into his pockets and dropped his gaze to the floor. He was better off if he didn't have to look in Peter's direction. It wasn't a great stretch of the imagination to consider what 'serious consequences' meant. He glanced across at the kid, squirming and sweating beside him. Unreal. He sure had a lot to learn about withstanding the pressures of an interrogation!

"One."

"Fine!" Mozzie sighed deeply and looked Peter in the eye. "Whatever. I did it okay. I thought the pup was in need of a change of style. Why be boring? Variety is the spice of life right?"

Peter pressed his lips together, not at all impressed with Mozzie's confession, stepping forward to land a very hard swat to the boy's backside.

"Yeowww!" Mozzie yelped as he reached back to rub at his butt.

Peter pointed a stern finger at the older boy's face. "That was for lying to me." Peter then stepped over to Neal and planted an equally solid smack to his little butt. The youngster cried out and also rubbed at the sting. "And that," Peter pointed, "was for letting him! Mozzie?"

"Yes sir?"

"Go and see if your mother needs a hand in the kitchen please."

"Yes sir."

"And Mozzie, while you are there I want you to write out rule number seven, twenty times."

"Twenty?" Mozzie groaned and was about to argue the sentence when he thought better of it. "Twenty? Sure, no problem." The nine year old trotted off to the kitchen leaving Agent Burke to deal with the pint-sized perp.

Peter took the little boy's arm and led him over to the couch. He sat down and put Neal on his lap. "Now little one, you ready to tell me what happened."

Neal shrugged.

"You know you are not making this any easier for yourself, kiddo."

"But I don't want to get in twouble." Neal fiddled with the buttons on Peter's shirt.

"Well perhaps you should have considered that before you shaved off puppy's leg hair and painted him in fluoro green."

"I wanted to see what he would wook wike."

"Did you know you would get in trouble for doing that to Satchmo?"

"Ah, my not sure."

"Okay then, let me put it this way, if I had been sitting in the room with you would you still have done it?"

"Noooo."

"Why not?"

"Cause you would hab said it was naughty and got cwanky with me."

"That's right. So you did know it was wrong?"

Neal's little face dropped and his bottom lip quivered. Yep, he knew it was wrong all right.

"Neal, why didn't you own up when El asked you earlier?"

"Cause she would hab macked my bottom and it would hab herwt."

"Yeah, but now you're still in trouble and to make it worse, you were happy to just stand back and let Mozzie take the blame. I'm very disappointed in you young man."

Neal's face dropped and the tears that had been threatening came pouring out in a deluge. "I sowwy. I didna mean to get Moz in twoble."

"Hey kiddo. I know you didn't but by not telling the truth, that's exactly what happened. Mozzie was prepared to take the blame for something you did. Did Mozzie have any part in you painting or cutting Satchmo's hair?"

"Noooo. He wab weading his book." The little boy sniffled while rubbing his eyes with his knuckles.

"I see. So your best friend, who was innocently reading a book while you were into mischief is made to sit in a chair and face the corner because you won't own up when El asks which one of you made a mess of Satchmo?"

"I widn't mean too," the youngster babbled into his hands.

"Well young man, I think you know that you did the wrong thing by decorating Satchmo." Peter paused, now for the hard part. "You know what I have to do now Neal?"

Through the tears, the youngster pleaded, "No pwease. I won't pwaint Satchie again eber. I don't want a panking."

Neal's protest landed on deaf ears as he was lifted up and over Peter's knee. The little boy continued to cry out as several swats were landed over the top of his pajama bottoms. The whacks weren't particularly hard, just enough to reinforce the message Peter had already discussed with the little boy. "When you've done something wrong, own up." Whack. "Good friends don't get their buddies in trouble." Whack. "No more decorating the dog." Whack.

Peter lifted the weeping child up into his arms and cuddled him against his chest. "Okay kiddo, I believe you owe a couple of apologies."

Neal wiped his eyes and nose on Peter's shirt. The agent rolled his eyes. How many times had the moppet done that to one of his work shirts? "I sowwy dadda."

Peter smiled. "I didn't mean me little one. Your mommy and brother are the ones who need an apology." He lifted Neal down off his lap and pushed him gently in the direction of the kitchen but the little chap spun back and tilted his head in thought.

"I pwabably should pologize to Satchie too?"

"Good idea buddy." The agent chuckled and wondered how the hell he was going to turn the art project back into the family pet!