Author's Note: I've written this fic to try and meet some of the requests I received after a previous fic and also as a kind of sequel to 'Call if you're going to be late.' It's meant for light enjoyment so please don't take it too seriously. Please excuse any terminology that may be incorrect for American use. This fic does contain SPANKING so if that is not your thing, please hit the back arrow now. Disclaimer: White Collar does not belong to me.

THE NOT SO GREAT ESCAPE

"Neal…..NEAL!"

"Yeah?"

"Neal, what's up?"

"Eh?"

"You zoned out."

"Oh. I was just thinking of the case. Trying to work out how they gained entry."

"Maybe." Peter didn't buy it. "It's the third time you've zoned out today. What's up?" he asked again.

"Nothings up. We closed the Rider case yesterday. I guess it's taken its toll on me, not unlike the rest of the team." Neal nodded his head back in the direction of Jones and Dianna's desks. "The case was a bear. Might be a bit tired is all."

Bull. Cases like yesterdays were a walk in the park for Neal. Peter stood and collected his jacket off the back of his chair. "Let's go."

"Where?"

"Lunch."

"I'm going to skip. I'm not all that hungry but thanks anyway."

"Neal?" Peter waited till his partner lifted his eyes from the file he'd suddenly show great interest in, before continuing, "Let's go."

"Where?"

"Lunch," Peter replied way too patiently. "We need to talk."

Neal chose not to press his luck any further and stood, also collecting his jacket in the process. Let the inquisition begin, Neal thought as he followed Peter out the door.

Peter allowed Neal to pick the place for lunch so he chose a quiet little Thai Restaurant within walking distance of Federal Plaza. They had the courtyard eating area all to themselves which was what Neal was aiming for on the off chance that Peter happened to make a scene. After placing the order, Peter set about asking what Neal knew to be the inevitable million dollar question. "What's going on Neal and don't even bother giving me any bullshit story about you being tired or the case being too tuff? It's insulting."

Neal considered his options. He could tell Peter some 'bullshit story' and listen to him carry on like an overbearing mother for the next forty-eight hours till he moved onto something more imperative or he could just come clean. He'd need to tell him eventually so he decided on the later.

"Ok," Neal began while keeping his eyes directed at the table. "Two days ago, I received very credible information that gave the location of… now don't overreact please….the location of where," Neal paused finding it difficult to speak the words, "of where Kate might be hiding out." Neal looked up to gauge Peter's comprehension of what he'd just told him.

Peter just stared back. He had ceased chewing his food which he swallowed promptly before speaking. "Oh Neal," he sighed. "Surely you can't be serious about playing into a conspiracy theory that Kate is still alive?"

When he saw the sad hopeful look in Neal's eyes he was at a loss as to how to continue. He took a sip of his beer so Neal carried on. "The information I received said that Kate had been seen working out of a warehouse in Saratoga Springs upstate and that she had changed her name to Kelly Winslow and was dealing in the buying and selling of imported wood carvings from the Asian market." Neal took a sip of his wine, feeling somewhat relaxed and relieved at having shared the information with someone else.

Feeling more confident, Neal persisted with his fantasy. "I thought perhaps we could go up on the weekend to check out the warehouse. Ask around. It's not that far, up and back in one day. I'll do some of the driving. You could bring along some deviled ham sandwiches, we'll listen to a game on the radio…it could be an enjoyable road trip." Yeah. It was a fantasy. Neal was living in dreamland.

Peter wished he'd listened more in his compulsory Psyche training, he wished he hadn't been hungry and hadn't forced Neal along to spill the beans, he wished he'd gone into accounting after leaving college, well not really but he did wish, and this one was for real, he wished that El was here.

But she wasn't so Peter handled it the only way he could. He lost the plot with Neal. "That's ridiculous Neal, even for you. What happens to that genius brain of yours when you hear Kate's name mentioned? It liquefies, becomes a mushy mess. Kate's gone Neal. We both saw it with our own eyes. No slight of hand. No cover-up. Accept it. Grow up. Move on. She's gone. End of story!"

It was harsh. Too harsh. When Peter studied the crushed look in Neal's eyes he wanted the ground to open up and swallow him. He wanted to go back an hour and wait to have this conversation with professional assistance. But it had been said and he had to live with the consequences. Maybe it was what Neal needed to hear. Peter doubted it but it was all he had. First thing he was going to do when he got back to the office was to make Neal an appointment with the Fed Therapist. Yeah, that's what he'd do.

Neal spent the next couple of hours pretending to work at his desk. Peter spent that time shaking his head while looking down at his young, needy charge. He was pulled from his turbulent thoughts by the shrill buzzing of his private cell. "Hello."

"Hey, Pete. It's Andy."

"Hi Andy. How've you been? Haven't heard from you since I smashed your ass at one on one six weeks ago."

"Yeah," Andy chuckled. "Not how I remember it. But that's why I'm calling. You up for a rematch this afternoon? I've got the afternoon off and I'm thinking of a little payback. The weather's great and all the stars are aligned. You up for it?"

"Can't do this afternoon. Some of us have to work." He heard Andy snort at the dig. "How about six?"

"No can do. I'm on call from six-thirty. Wouldn't do much for the patient's confidence for their Doc to turn up in basketball shorts and a film of sweat covering his body. Sure you can't make this afternoon?"

Peter looked down at his team. They had worked hard this week and put in a lot of extra hours. Plus, he'd been mentally drained by his journey into unreality at lunch. He'd earned himself an early mark and then some. Nodding his head to talk himself into it he finally relented. "Yeah. Why not. I'm in. See you at Dawson's Park at say around half four?"

"Awesome. Don't be late Burke."

Peter hung up the phone feeling like he had a new lease on life. He wore a very satisfied smile as he packed up his desk, shut down his computer, picked up his brief case and jacket and made tracks to the door. On the way he passed Jones and Dianna and joyfully told them they were excused for the day. He wasn't surprised that they were out of sight before he'd even made it to Neal's desk. "Let's go Neal."

Again. Haven't we done this dance already today? "Where?"

"Home. I've made an executive decision to give our hardworking team the afternoon off. Grab your stuff and I'll drop you off on the way home." Peter looked as jolly as he sounded. The polar opposite of Neal.

Neal stood collecting his belongings which included an overnight bag. As they waited for the elevator, Peter nodded down to the bag in Neal's hand, "Planning on going somewhere?"

"Yeah." Unable to disguise his mood, Neal sounded dejected, "Well…no…not really."

"Neal?"

"Forget it."

Peter no longer felt jolly. He checked his brain for a clue to the missing piece. This kid could be so infuriating and today he was pulling out all stops. Wait. Crap. "Tonight's the night El invited you to dinner?"

Neal nodded in confirmation.

"Sorry Buddy. I thought that was tomorrow night." Neal saw it for the cover-up it was. Peter had forgotten.

Peter considered dropping Neal off at June's and picking him up after basketball, but that would be cutting it fine. Besides, El would kill him if she got wind of the fact that he'd dropped his burden in lieu of a better offer. Better to take him back to his house. He'd leave Neal in front of the TV and be back before El got home from work so he wouldn't be caught out as the feeble host he actually was. El would kick his butt if she knew.

Peter left Neal to channel surf while he went upstairs to get changed. He was quite charged about beating his friend at yet another game. He'd known Andy since playing college basketball together and throughout all that time, their competitive spirit had never waived. It was mostly playful but their games also held a serious side. Neither liked to lose. Peter was pulled from his thoughts when his phone began to buzz in his pocket. "Hello."

"Hello again."

"Andy? I'm on my way. You're anxious aren't you? A little too keen for a beating!"

"Hey listen Pete," Andy's tone was not playful. "I'm sorry to do this to you but you're going to have to take a raincheck."

"Sure Andy. Everything ok?"

"Yes and no. I'm fine but some bastard ran into the back of my Jag as I was reversing out. I'm going to be stuck here for a while sorting our insurance, towing and the rest. I'm really sorry mate."

"No, nothing to be sorry about. Can't be helped." Peter didn't let his disappointment show through his voice.

"Yeah. Looks like my stars weren't aligned after all. I'll catch up with you soon and we'll try again?"

"No worries. Speak to you soon." Peter hung up and sat on the bed. This was one hell of a crap day. Have I walked under a ladder recently?

Peter sat on the lounge in his t-shirt and sports shorts bouncing his ball like a young kid forced to stay inside because it was too wet out. Damn it. Neal just looked blankly at the TV having said all of five words since they'd arrived home. Neal was in a sulk. Peter could handle that. Better Neal stewing than going off doing something stupid. He probably shouldn't have gone off and left him alone anyway. His cancelled game was possibly a blessing in disguise. It was a good thing he wasn't off shooting hoops. If I think it enough I might actually believe it.

Peter's gazed settled on Neal. Neal was young, fit, very capable, for sure he had never thrown a ball at a hoop in his life but Neal was a quick learner. A light bulb appeared above Peter's head. "Neal?"

"No."

"No what?"

"No."

"How can you say no? You don't even know what I'm going to ask."

"Are you going to ask me to play ball?"

"Well….yeah."

"No."

"Oh come on. It'll get you out of the rut you're in. Brush off the cobwebs. It's what you need."

"No."

"Neal," Peter spoke in his agent tone, "It's what partners do for each other. If you can't even come and shoot some hoops with me for one lousy hour then maybe I might have to reconsider your placement."

"That's low Peter."

"No, I don't think it's an unreasonable ask. After all, we're still on the Bureau clock for at least another hour."

Neal knew Peter wasn't going to back down. "Fine." Let's get this ludicrous pursuit out of your system.

Peter indicated for Neal to follow him upstairs where he swiftly produced a spare set of basketball appropriate clothes.

Neal, in his oversized shirt and way too baggy shorts was following Peter out of the door when suddenly he froze in the entryway.

"WHAT. NOW!" Peter had reached his limit.

Neal pointed to his anklet. I'm not going to any park with this on show.

"Why the hell not Neal?"

"Parents will take one look at it and think I'm some kind of pedophile or some equally dangerous criminal. Who knows what they are capable of? Hopefully they'll just grab their kids and run but it's the crazy over-obsessed grandmother that might have a moment of madness and crush a rock over my head that I'm more concerned about. Heading to a park with my anklet exposed, well you may as well paint a target on my back and take me to gangland central!

"Fine. Whatever! Peter stormed off returning moments later with a key while talking on his handset to the Marshall's switchboard. "….9305 alpha. Yes, off line. He's with me. Thank you." Peter unlocked Neal's anklet throwing it onto the arm chair and then stormed out the front door.

Neal was in a dangerous mood. Peter should have known better.

The friendly one on one basketball match was far from friendly. Peter really needed to let off some steam and Neal was equally pissed. Neal took to the game easily matching Peter skill for skill, blow for blow. The score was kept fairly even and each time Peter threw the ball way too hard into Neal's chest, Neal would be sure to elbow Peter way too purposely on the way up to the hoop. Both men were battered and bruised when Peter eventually announced his victory. Peter wiped the sweat from his brow and took in a huge mouthful of water from his bottle. He felt a lot better. Neal did not.

As soon as they arrived home Peter headed to the fridge for a beer. He called out from the kitchen, "Get that anklet back on before you shower!"

Neal shot a pissed off look in Peter's direction but it was lost on the closed kitchen door. Neal picked up the anklet with great contempt and knelt down on the ground to comply with Peter's directions. Neal's hands were still sweaty and he fumbled with anklet before it rolled out of his hands and across the floor. Neal sat on the ground looking at it. At that moment, he hated it. Then, out of the depths of that dangerous part of his brain that always contributed to his troubles, Neal came up with a fantastic plan. He had to work fast.

"Peter!"

Peter came out from the kitchen. "Yeah?"

"Can't get this silly thing back on." Neal sat crouched down on the floor and indicated the anklet to Peter.

Peter placed his beer on the table and moved over to assist his partner. He grabbed the anklet from Neal's hands and knelt down beside the young con. As Peter placed his hand on Neal's lower leg to get a grip before applying the anklet, Neal snapped a handcuff around Peter's wrist. The anklet rolled across the floor and disappeared under the couch. Peter reflexively pulled his hand away but found it secured. Neal had anchored one end of the cuffs to a metal ring attached to the fireplace, possibly used for standing protective grills in. Unfortunately for Peter, the solid ring was embedded into the brickwork of the fireplace making it impossible to pull out with bare hands.

Neal quickly stood in his bid to escape but Peter was fast and he grabbed Neal's ankle. Neal took a tumble forward and pulled a small arm chair to the floor with him.

"Neal!" Peter shouted. "What do you think you're doing!" More shouting.

"Look I'm sorry Peter but I really need to go."

"Go? Where?" Peter was confused and then all the clues hit him. "The warehouse upstate."

"I'll be back in time for work tomorrow."

"How? You planning on stealing a car?"

"I've got it all worked out but since your not coming to the party, the less you know the better." Neal tried to pull away again but Peter held tight with his free hand.

Peter began to drag Neal back further into his grasp. Neal lunged forward and grabbed the coffee table leg. This unbalanced a pretty little vase that El had so carefully adorned with fresh smelling pansies. It dropped onto its side and rolled towards the edge. Both men held their breaths and they watched it approach and then drop off the mahogany table. Peter cringed and waited for the inevitable shatter but Neal reached out with all his talent and caught the crystal vase. He stood it carefully to the side and turned to continue his escape.

"I promise you Peter that I'll return as soon as I see for myself if there's any sign of Kate."

"No Neal. You let me go right now and I'll promise that I'll consider your unbelievable lack of common sense when it comes to Kate in helping me decide if we take a drive to the SuperMax tonight."

Neal found himself beginning to panic. He spun his body around to face Peter, pulled back his free leg and readied himself to kick Peter possibly in the face, no, ok the chest, no, maybe the shoulder. Peter's movements froze as he braced himself to be kicked in the teeth. But fortunately for both of them Neal simply put his leg back down, turned his body towards the door and pulled his leg with all his might.

Regrettably the only thing that accomplished was losing his shoe off his foot. Somehow, Peter still held his leg captive. Ok. Desperate times. Neal picked up the little pansy vase and turned to Peter. Peter looked wide eyed. No Neal! Neal tossed the vase in a gentle arc towards Peter. Peter had no choice now. He released Neal's leg and caught the little crystal vase before it landed on the wooden floor.

Neal yanked his foot away from Peter's reach. Even though Peter retained Neal's shoe, the younger man found it all very amusing and was quite relieved to be out of his handler's iron grip.

Neal stepped towards the door placing the handcuff key on top of the sideboard in full view of Peter. "Don't do it, Neal. You'll regret it." Peter had one last ditched effort while Neal grabbed one of Peter's spare shoes from the hallway cupboard and slipped it on to his stocking foot.

It may have been nervous energy that gave way to good sense but Neal stood at the edge of the living room, turned back to Peter and chuckled, "I guess that's 3 – 1 now!"

There were no misgivings about what caused Peter to do what he did next. He was furious. He picked up the rejected shoe lying beside him on the floor and threw it with all his might at Neal. Unfortunately it missed its target by a good foot and knocked an antique vase clear off the sideboard. Unlike the crystal pansy vase, this precious heirloom did hit the floor and did shatter into a million pieces.

"I'm gonna kill you when I eventually get my hands on you!" Peter snarled. His red face only slightly less frightening than the steam shooting out his ears.

Neal shot a glance around the living room. "Not if Elizabeth kills you first," he stated calmly before opening the front door and steeping out to freedom.

Peter eyed the overturned chair, the freshly cut pansies lying in a pool of water on the hardwood floor, magazines from the coffee table sprawled out and creased and the remnants of El's vase lying in shattered pieces throughout the room. Neal had a point. He was a dead man.

Neal's brief encounter with freedom was blown apart the minute he stepped out the Burke's front door. Elizabeth was pulling up directly in front of the house. Great luck for Elizabeth, a park as good as that was like hitting pay dirt. Terrible luck for Neal, he'd be just hitting dirt.

Elizabeth stepped out of the VW Beetle looking as polished as she did when she stepped out each morning. "Evening, Neal. You heading out? You're staying for dinner right?" Elizabeth was confused. Perhaps he was going for a jog – it certainly looked like it.

"Hi Elizabeth. You have a good day at work?"

"Not too excruciating. Looking forward to putting my feet up. You going somewhere?" Elizabeth tried again.

"Won't be gone for too long. I'll see you when I get back." I hope. If Peter doesn't throw my ass straight in jail.

El suspected something wasn't right. She studied Neal as he began to move away from her. What was wrong with this picture? Maybe it was the shorts. El had never seen Neal in shorts. Boy he looks kind of hot. No, focus El. Then it hit her. Neal was without his tracker. She'd seen him enough times with his legs crossed, or feet propped up on the couch for it to be very noticeable now it was missing. Something really wasn't right.

"Neal honey, can you please help me carry this heavy box upstairs," El asked while opening her rear door and pointing. "I know you're anxious to get going but it'll only take a sec."

Neal froze. Now faced with the dilemma of offending Elizabeth, could I even begin to consider that a possibility, or returning to face Peter. It wasn't a difficult decision. Only difficult to carry out. He turned to face El and walked over and collected the box off the back seat. The box carried an assortment of china dishes, crockery and porcelain mugs. It was too heavy for El to be lifting Neal told himself. As he moved towards the stairs he began to re-strategize. Perhaps if El had other items to collect from the car and he moved quickly enough, then maybe he could drop the box off inside and be back out before El had a chance to see the evidence.

Not so. It seemed that Neal's stars were not aligned either. Elizabeth was inside the room before Neal had even placed the box on the dining room table. Elizabeth's eyes went wide at the disheveled state of her normally pristine living room.

"You boys throw a party and forget to invite me?" El asked in confusion as she glared at first Neal, who had frozen by the table and then Peter, who huddled to an even smaller position on the floor trying to remain inconspicuous. It didn't work.

Neither man answered so El continued. "So what happened?" More silence.

Suddenly, Elizabeth realized for the first time that Peter was attached to the wall and unable to move. Elizabeth walked over and grabbed Neal's ear, pulling it down to the level of her lips. "Is MY husband handcuffed to the fireplace?" Elizabeth spoke in a deadly whispered tone that sent a shiver up Neal's spine.

Unable to speak, through possibly sheer terror, Neal nodded, creating even more pain for his ear that El held tight. Neal made an 'unlock' sign with his hand and pointed to the key on top of the sideboard. El growled again into Neal's ear, "Right. Now!"

Neal grabbed the key and quickly unlocked his partner from his involuntary confinement. Peter rubbed at his chaffed wrist for a second, stood up and dropped his arms to his sides. Both men faced El in silence, neither wanting to bring unwanted attention to themselves, hoping against hope that El would move on to the kitchen and pretend that the scene she had walked into was just all part of a bad dream.

"CLEAN. .!" El directed in her firmest voice before grabbing her bag and heading up the stairs.

"Yes Ma'am." Both men called after her.

Before he got stuck into the cleaning, Peter climbed under the couch and retrieved Neal's tracker. He grabbed his partner's leg, again, but this time reattached the offending accessory without any issue. Neal submitted and together they made fast work of returning the room to normal.

Neal waited till he heard the bath running upstairs before he quietly asked, "We're not in too much trouble I hope?"

Peter's eyes went wide and he leaned back from his position of kneeling on the floor while sweeping china into the dust pan. He gave Neal the 'you have got to be kidding me' look. "Let me put it into perspective for you my young naïve friend, I'm about to get my ass spanked while in the company of my work colleague and amazingly," Peter paused, "I'm NOT the one that handcuffed a love one to a fireplace and left him in hazardous conditions."

"You were in no danger Peter."

"Like El's going to agree with that."

"So you're saying deep shit kind of trouble?"

"It doesn't bode well for your butt Buddy Boy." Peter continued his cleaning.

Peter and Neal sat on the couch awaiting the reprimand they knew would come down from upstairs at any moment. Neal couldn't hold back any longer. "We have to talk our way out of this Peter," he said desperately. "I still remember last time and…..well I want it to stay 'last time'…I don't want it to be a 'this time'."

"Well what do you suggest?" Peter was open for suggestions while at the same time not holding much hope.

"How about, we say we did throw a party, and it got a little out of control, and we threw out the unruly guests, and next time we'll be sure to invite you El?"

Peter didn't bother to acknowledge the ridiculous proposal with a response.

"Ok, let's try this. You were teaching me some self-defense and part of that was a demonstration of how to secure an attacker using handcuffs and we got a little carried away and unfortunately some items got damaged in the process?"

Peter shook his head. He knew better.

"What do you suggest then Peter?" Neal asked with a cross between anger and nervousness.

"I suggest we tell the truth."

"Good plan boys." El returned to the room and sat opposite her delinquents. The colour drained form Neal's face.

"So what happened?" El asked patiently.

Peter began this time, "Neal got a tip off that Kate had been seen upstate and sort of … lost it." El gave an understanding motherly look in Neal's direction. Neal cast his eyes down to the floor. "Andy Bryant called and asked if I'd like to join him for a friendly one-on-one this afternoon so we left work early. Andy had to pull out at the last minute so I asked Neal to play with me and he agreed. I…"

Elizabeth cut Peter off. "Neal agreed to play basketball? What did you threaten him with Peter?"

"I didn't threaten him El, I just asked him, told him it would be good for him. Told…."

"Told me he'd start looking around for a new partner if I didn't play." Neal finished for him.

"Surely not Peter? I'm surprised at you." El looked disappointingly at her husband. It was his turn to cast his eyes down.

"He also told me to grow up and move on and forget about Kate." Neal added realizing that a little sympathy went a long way to protecting his butt.

"We'll that wasn't very nice either Peter," El scolded. Peter rolled his eyes. "But at the same time Neal, it looks like you were about to carry out a very foolish endeavor. First you handcuffed a federal agent and then you attempted to break your radius. I'm fairly certain that any if not all of these actions would constitute a breach of several conditions of your parole." Neal felt all his sympathy credits roll out the door. El continued her lecture, "And on a far more personal level Neal, I'm really disappointed that you would put Peter in a possible hazardous situation like you did." Neal appeared confused. "What if there had been a gas leak, or worse still a fire? What then? I can't believe you could do that to a friend." Neal looked every bit ashamed as he felt.

"So Peter," El returned her attention to her investigation, "Anything else you want to add?"

"I'm sorry we broke your vase, El. I'll find a way to replace it."

"Thank you, Peter." El turned to his partner-in-crime, "Anything you want to contribute Neal?"

Neal simply shook his head.

"Ok then. Peter would you please fetch my hairbrush off the dresser."

Peter obediently rose from his chair and proceeded up the stairs leaving Neal alone to sit silently across from the women whose 'love one he'd handcuffed to the fireplace'.

Peter returned to the living room promptly, thank goodness for small mercies. Unfortunately he was carrying El's hairbrush. Although to Neal it appeared more like a small paddle. It was an old fashioned solid wooden brush and Neal had no doubt it would pack quite a sting.

Peter handed the brush over to El and went and stood behind the arm chair. El came and stood by his side and gently pushed on Peter's back forcing him to lean over the back of the chair before gripping the arms. Peter looked at Neal who had lost even more colour from his face than was possible. Good. El swung the brush down hard, striking Peter's backside soundly. Peter winched. She stuck again and Peter held his breath. Shit that hurts. Peter's cotton basketball shorts offered next to no protection against the menacing power of El's brush. Another blow to his butt followed by another. It wasn't helping Peter's pain than Neal had a front row seat to his spanking. El continued the walloping for another dozen or so swats until she felt satisfied Peter had learnt his lesson. She pulled Peter up. He refused to rub his backside even though every instinct was screaming out to him to do so. "Now Peter, I expect more of you. You didn't handle this well at all. No more threatening Neal for something as insignificant as a basketball game. And it was pretty negligent of you to release Neal from his tracker when he was obviously in a distressed state of mind."

"Yes, El. It was thoughtless. Won't happen again."

El gave Peter a kiss then turned to Neal. Neal? Neal was gone! Actually he had just moved from the couch to the…looking…to the doorway. "Neal?"

"Yeah I just remembered June asked me to look after Bugsy while she visited her sister tonight." Neal could barely contain his panic.

"Neal, on top of everything else, are you going to stand there and lie to me?" El held up one finger. Neal didn't see it.

"Uh…Yes…No...I mean, yeah it was a lie…but…"

"Come here Neal. You did something quite unacceptable and now you have to accept the consequences." El held up two fingers this time but Neal ignored them and continued to ramble.

"Listen Elizabeth….I told Peter I'd be straight back and he didn't listen and if he hadn't put me in such a bad mood with that stupid basketball game….." Neal saw El's three fingers go up and he broke off his desperate explanation.

Neal looked to Peter who just shook his head. You did it Buddy not me. He looked back to Elizabeth who stood firm. Peter had been quite clear as to what '3' meant. Neal let his impulses take over and he did what he always did best under these circumstances, he ran.

Neal ran out the door, down the stairs and across the street. He then turned to face the Burke's house and after realizing that he wasn't being pursued, how ridiculous, he sat down on the curb and put his head in his hands. How ridiculous indeed!

Neal weighed up his not so good day. For sure he should have told Peter about Kate. That's what friends do. No doubt though he shouldn't have been surprised by Peter's reaction. Of course that's how Peter would handle it. It was his job to keep him on the straight and narrow and stealing a car and heading north was possibly just a tiny bit over the line of what Peter would consider tolerable. But wasn't it Peter's job to handle his indiscretions? Since when did it become Elizabeth's problem? Ok maybe that little thing with her husband and the handcuffs. Was that a black cat that just crossed my path? Yeeesh!

After possibly close to an hour, and only because his backside was numb from sitting on the cold concrete curb, Neal ventured back to the house. It was only a matter of time, he justified so he might as well get it over with. At the very least he had calmed down in his own mind and accepted what awaited him within.

Neal opened the door and quietly stepped inside. He could hear El tinkering in the kitchen and Peter was sitting on the arm chair reading the paper. Without looking around Peter called out, "Honey, Richard Kimble's back!"

Thanks Peter. El came out of the kitchen and made her way over to her wayward boy. She gently kissed him on the cheek, "I'm so glad you decided to come back home when you did."

Neal just shrugged.

El took the opportunity to turn Neal towards the steps while at the same time giving him a solid smack to his butt. "Wait for me in your room," she ordered before returning to the kitchen.

Neal took a couple of steps up the stairs before calling quietly back, "Ah Peter?"

"She meant the guest bedroom."

"Thanks." He continued dragging his feet up to his inevitable fate.

Neal made himself comfortable on the bed and gazed at the ceiling trying to listen out for the telltale sound of footsteps on the stairs. He didn't have to wait long before Elizabeth walked in, brandishing that dreadful implement from earlier, and turned to close the door behind her. Neal sat up and El joined him sitting on the bed. "Neal, you know how much Peter and I love you right?" Neal nodded. "And we just try and do what we can to guide you into making the right choices." More nodding. "We want to help you learn how to stay safe and hopefully stop you from choosing reckless behaviours that will see you taken from us and returned to prison?"

"I'm sorry Elizabeth. I didn't think straight."

"I know honey. So let's get this over with, you've stalled long enough, and then I'm sure we'll all be feeling a whole lot better. I highly doubt that.

"El, you know, maybe I can just sit here and think about my silly actions and Peter can bring me my dinner and I'll go to bed early." Neal tried one last time.

"Neal," Elizabeth sighed. "When you're sitting uncomfortably for the next little while, hopefully your brain will make a mental note that this is what it feels like to make unwise decisions and with a bit of good luck may prevent something similar happening in the future. Hop up please" Elizabeth motioned while she stood up herself.

Neal complied. He then turned around and bent over resting his hands on the bed.

"Neal…?

Neal looked back at El feigning ignorance.

"Neal, I know you know the rules." She patted her brush against her palm.

Neal took a deep breath, stood up, pushed his way too baggy shorts and his silk boxers down to the floor and put his hands back on the bed. How embarrassing.

But with the first stinging swat, embarrassment soon gave way to pain. El paused to gauge Neal's reaction. He seemed to be accepting his punishment so she continued to deliver very swift, solid smacks to his backside and thighs. Her brush left red marks wherever it hit and El continued to rain down smacks to his butt until she felt she'd made her point. She pulled his boxers back up and gently lifted him into a hug. "Please think before you act next time honey." Neal nodded and vowed not to be in that position again. Didn't I think that last time?

Peter stood in the doorway to 'Neal's Room'. His friend was laying face down on the bed wearing just his silk boxers and Peter's oversized shirt. His exposed thighs were red making Peter grimace. Peter sat down gently on the edge and placed a caring hand on Neal's back. "You ok Buddy?"

"Yeah," was the mumbled reply. Neal's face was buried into a pillow. "I'm sorry I got you into trouble."

"I'm sorry too. Let's both do a better job of it next time, ok?"

"Ok."

"You know I was thinking, maybe this Sunday, we could go for a drive. You, me and El. We could take a picnic lunch and head upstate. Perhaps we could have a look around Saratoga Springs. Haven't been there for years. What do you think?"

Neal twisted his head out of the pillow so he could look at Peter. His eyes were red and wet. "Really?"

"Yeah, but Neal," Peter continued in a firm voice. "We're just going to have a look around ok? No crazy stuff!" Peter gave Neal a light whack on his backside to accentuate the point.

"Got it Peter, loud and clear." He shifted out of the firing line to avoid any more abuse to his tender butt.

"Good then." Peter got up and headed to the door. "And next Tuesday morning I have scheduled you an appointment with the Fed Therapist."

"Peeettter," Neal whined.

"No you'll be going so don't even bother. I'm going with you."

"Fine."

"Ok. Have a shower, dinner is almost ready."

"Hey Peter."

"Yeah?"

"You know, I think I'm going to buy Elizabeth a small gift for you know, contributing to breaking her vase. Maybe I'll buy her one of those little modular hairbrushes that fit nicely into a woman's purse."

Peter smirked knowingly, "Don't bother. Already tried that one," he laughed before disappearing down the stairs.

And for not the first time, Neal wondered what shenanigans Peter got up to when he wasn't around!