A huge thank you to everyone who reviewed Ch. 1. I get so much inspiration from you all!

Because of my apparent inability to remember to save documents before I post them, this was not included at the beginning of the story, so here it is now instead . . .

This is a continuation of Frost on Flowers. Though this story will stand alone, you'll find yourself wondering what happened in the previous story, so you should probably read it first. I'll only warn you this one time: This story contains spanking of an adult (well, 2 adults actually, but only when they act like bratty children), thus the 'T' rating.

Don't own CM or WC, only wish I did.

Enjoy . . .

XOXOXOXOXO

"Really Peter, I have no idea what's wrong." The two men were traversing the sidewalk toward Peter's home. "Are you certain Elizabeth sounded upset? Maybe she was concentrating on something important, or maybe she was actually upset with you. Did you do something to make her angry again, Peter? You know, you really should be more careful about what you say to her sometimes." The young man was grasping at straws, and he knew it. He was also rambling; a good sign he knew he was in trouble and didn't want to admit it.

Peter walked quietly beside him, listening to Neal's underlying messages, and wondering what in the world the young conman could have done to anger El. Approaching the front door, he stopped to look Neal in the eye. He only received a perplexed, innocent glance before the younger man broke eye contact. Sighing, he snatched Neal's hat off his head and handed it to him before leading him into the house. They got about 5 steps inside the living room when Peter pulled up short at the sight of his irritated wife.

Worried about what was to come, Neal wasn't paying much attention to Peter and ran directly into him. He was about to apologize when he too caught sight of Elizabeth, and froze.

She sturdily stood in front of the dining room table, arms crossed, lips pursed and eyes flashing. She gripped a large wooden spoon in her hand. Neal dearly hoped she had just been stirring a pot of something in the kitchen and wasn't planning some other use for the implement. When she hotly flipped her dark hair back, Peter paled slightly at the familiar warning signs of an oncoming tongue lashing. "Neal!" Peter released the breath he just realized he'd been holding. He turned slightly to find wide, startled blue eyes gazing at El. He noted with satisfaction that Neal was now the one not breathing. "You did this. You set up this job for me at the Frick." Neal thought perhaps she was only playing at being angry. He'd contracted this job for Elizabeth as a favor to her – so what if he benefited from it as well? "Wipe that smile off your face, young man, and have a seat." She pointed at the sofa.

Swallowing hard, Neal meekly did as he was told. "B-but Elizabeth, I –"

She cut him off with an angry flick of her upraised hand. Peter, who had been standing aside enjoying the show, slowly approached his wife. "Hun . . . ?" She didn't seem upset with him at the moment, so he stood in front of her and laid a supportive hand on her shoulder.

Speaking directly to her husband now, she told Peter, "I met Mr. Franklin today, the man in charge of this dinner at the Frick. He was talking about how much he owed Nick Halden for his constant ability to provide him with top-of-the-line services like mine. Imagine my surprise at hearing his name." She side-stepped Peter and reaffirmed her confrontation with Neal, "When and how did you contact him, Neal?" He opened his mouth to explain, but snapped it shut again when Elizabeth finished with, "And don't you dare lie or minimize, or so help me, I'll turn you over my knee right now."

Neal looked to Peter for help, but received an unhelpful smirk instead. He was on his own. Quickly collecting himself, he started, "I was only . . . uhh . . . that is to say, I knew of this job, and . . . uhh . . . Well, Elizabeth, I was driving you crazy all last week, and I just thought –"

"You thought if El had something else to do, you could get a reprieve from your restriction." Peter sounded disappointed.

More than anything else, that tone in Peter's voice made the younger man feel the first real twinges of guilt.

Firmly, Elizabeth restated, "When and how, Neal? These are easy questions."

Elizabeth was proving to be much harder to redirect than Peter generally was. The younger man looked from her to Peter and back again before he gave a frustrated sigh and offered Elizabeth the answers she was demanding. "I found my phone in Peter's office last week." Seeing the increasing ire in the older man's face, he quickly pushed forward, "I only made a couple of calls. It took less than 5 minutes." Peter's frustration was not decreasing, but Neal couldn't stop himself from talking, "Peter, I'm sorry. I know. I wasn't supposed to use my phone, but I couldn't take another week of being confined like that." Neal abruptly stopped as a dark cloud passed over Peter's face. Feeling a bit panicky, he quickly thought about the last thing he had said.

A tense silence filled the room before Peter growled, "Come with me, Neal." Neal slowly stood to follow the order. Peter led him by the arm to the only open corner in the living room. Taking the young man's shoulders, Peter placed him in position facing the wall, "Use this time to think about why what you did was wrong." Neal half turned to try to explain (and hopefully to talk his way out of the corner), but Peter firmly put him back in position and gave him a hard smack on the butt, "Stay put. I tell you when it's okay to talk again." Not wanting to incur any more smacks, Neal complied. Satchmo, who had been waiting patiently for attention at Peter's feet now whined and nosed Neal's hand. Peter sent the dog away, "Come on, Satch. Go see El." Elizabeth absentmindedly scratched the dog's head as he leaned against her legs.

Peter then went to his wife and guided her into the kitchen where they could discuss what needed to happen next. Satchmo quietly waited for them to leave the room, then returned to sit beside Neal who surreptitiously pet the dog's ears.

XOXOXOXO

Tuesday night the case hadn't been cracked yet, but they were close. True to his word Hotch returned to the BAU offices that night, leaving the rest of the team in Maryland to handle the rest. He would return in the morning if need be. At 6:20 pm he walked into the bullpen to find Reid and Garcia happily finishing off the last of the carry out Chinese food. "You didn't save any for me?" Hotch uncharacteristically teased.

"Sorry boss. The Moo Shoo crew flew through the cashews." Garcia grinned at her rhyme. Hotch and Reid barely managed to keep from rolling their eyes.

Glancing at the young man, Hotch could see he had been subjected to this sort of thing all day and was worn out, "Ready to go, Reid?"

He was about to respond when Garcia continued, "Ah, high IQ gumshoe with a curfew."

Sighing, Reid simply shouldered his bag and walked toward the door.

Catching the look of "see what she puts me through?" as the young man passed, Hotch shot a glance at Garcia making sure the kind-hearted tech analyst hadn't seen it. She hadn't, but she could imagine. Slightly embarrassed, she said, "I'll just clean up here then." As Hotch turned to follow his charge out the door, she couldn't help herself, "Adieu!"

XOXOXOXO

Though Reid had been kept informed about their current case throughout the day, the short ride to Hotch's apartment was spent filling in any holes and discussing different possibilities regarding the unsub's behavior.

When they arrived at the apartment, Reid wanted nothing more than to hide away in his bedroom and continue his work on the perplexing code, but not wanting to raise any suspicion, he knew he would have to stick to their regular routine. He sat on the sofa reading another technical manual and sipping at the tea Hotch always insisted on making before bed. It was only 7:30, and Reid knew he had about 2 hours to kill before being sent to his room. He would be allowed another ½ hour to 'wind down' before Hotch insisted he shut his light out. This ½ hour was all the time Reid was provided to actually work on the frustrating code – not that Hotch would approve if he was aware of Reid's activities. Out of the corner of his eye he watched Hotch work through his mound of paper work.

Hotch felt more than saw the younger man's restlessness. Continuing his work, he waited patiently for Reid to bring up whatever was bothering him.

By 8:00 Reid had finally decided on a plan. "Hotch?" He began, getting the older man's attention, "I've been thinking about what you said about going to visit my mother. Do you think I can take next week off to go see her?"

Hotch tried not to show his amazement at this. Thinking it through, he probed further, "Are you certain you want to go for an entire week?" He was worried about this young man having so much exposure to his mother all at once. Without the support of his BAU family close at hand, this could be a disastrous decision.

Stumbling over the unexpected question, Reid struggled to continue his lie, "I'll be fine, Hotch. Mom would be disappointed if I couldn't spend a full week with her."

Hotch continued to stare at his youngest agent, trying to get a read on what he was really thinking. Reid did his best not to squirm under the imposing power of that gaze. Finally, Hotch responded, "If you're certain this is what you want, I'll approve the time off."

Reid took a deep breath, "Thanks, Hotch."

"But," the older man continued, "I expect you to call and check in a couple of times throughout the week." He knew this was an unorthodox request to make of an employee, but the young man would need more support than he realized. This demand would allow Reid to seek that support without feeling he was being an imposition.

Nodding his head in agreement, he responded, "Yes, sir." He wasn't thrilled about this directive though as it meant he would have to continue his lie on the phone with Hotch. Reid knew he was a terrible prevaricator, and the more often he was put into this situation, the more likely Hotch was to find out the truth. But, at least he was now free to go to New York and enlist Neal's help in investigating his great-grandfather's mystery.

Predictably, at 9:30 Hotch sent Reid to bed. He went with every intention of working on the code some more, but fell asleep almost as soon as he crawled under the covers.

At 10:00 Hotch cracked the young man's bedroom door open to check on him. Sound asleep. He smiled knowing the tea he had given Reid was doing its job in getting him to sleep more. The ever-present dark circles under his agent's eyes were nearly invisible now after several nights of ample rest. He sighed knowing that they would return after a week spent with his mother. Hotch clicked off the light, watching to make sure the nightlight turned itself on. Then he closed the door and went to his own bed.

XOXOXOXO

Neal had been standing in the lonely corner for nearly 20 minutes. He could hear the quiet mumblings of Peter and Elizabeth emanating from the kitchen, but he couldn't pick up on the words. He wondered what the new punishment might be. Probably another week's restriction. He sighed heavily at the thought of this and wondered how he would survive another seven days of such close supervision. When Satchmo eagerly climbed to his feet from laying by Neal's side, he knew one or the both of them had re-entered the living room. He tensed slightly waiting for the real punishment to be given.

"Neal, come here." It was Peter. The young man closed his eyes for a moment thanking the powers that be that it wasn't Elizabeth who would deliver the inevitable news. Peter was bad enough; he didn't think he could handle both of the Burkes punishing him. As he turned to face his accuser, he froze seeing Elizabeth standing beside her husband. The spoon at least was no longer present. Slowly, unsure of what was to happen next, he approached the couple.

Elizabeth had calmed down quite a bit in 20 minutes. She began, "Neal, I'm unhappy with your behavior. You deceived me in breaking your phone restriction, and you manipulated Mr. Franklin into hiring me. You're right. You were driving me crazy last week, and I should have put my foot down when your conduct got out of hand. Next time I will. For now though I don't appreciate you engineering this job for me to make your life easier. Understand?"

Neal understood now why Peter loved his wife so much, and also why he was a little bit afraid of her. She was strict, but Neal had to admit everything she said was fair. He guiltily nodded his head, and sincerely said, "I'm sorry for manipulating the situation, Elizabeth. What can I do to make it up to you?"

"Oh, don't you worry about that." Peter warned, "This discussion is not over. You and I are going to finish this up in your room."

Neal's eyes went wide in shock, "What? But P-Peter, I said I was sorry!"

Taking the young man by the upper arm and guiding him toward the staircase, Peter said, "Uh-huh, and now we're going to make sure you remember just how sorry you are for a long time."

Neal looked back over his shoulder for help from Elizabeth. She returned his unspoken plea with a look that said, 'you had better learn a lesson from this'. When she turned to go to the kitchen, Neal knew his fate was sealed.

XOXOXOXO

Escorting Neal into the bedroom and shutting the door, Peter said, "You know the drill. Slacks and underwear off."

Neal retreated to the far side of the small room. "Come on, Peter. You're not really going to do this again, are you? I mean I get it about the first time. Agent Hotchner wanted you to spank me to keep me from going to prison. A-and breaking into that safety deposit box was a really bad idea. But all I did this time was make a quick phone call and get Elizabeth a job – which I notice she's keeping, by the way. I really think an apology is sufficient, don't you?" Peter's hands were on his hips and the dark cloud over his head had returned. The more Neal talked, the darker that cloud became. Neal honestly did not understand why the older man was as angry as he was, but he quit talking not wanting to make matters any worse than they already were.

"Are you finished?" Was Peter's sardonic reply.

Offering as innocent a look as he could muster, Neal merely nodded and waited for Peter to give his take on the situation.

"Good. Slacks and underwear off. I won't ask you again." Knowing he'd lost, Neal swallowed hard and complied as slowly as possible. Peter removed his jacket and rolled up his sleeves. Then he removed the hidden implement from his back pocket and laid it on the bed. Neal froze in horror at the sight of the wicked looking paddle. "Oh that?" Peter replied simply, "Agent Hotchner sent this to you as a gift."

"He sent it to me – as a gift?" Neal was incredulous.

"Yep. In care of the Burkes." Peter nearly grinned when Neal's startled eyes flew to his. "That's right. Elizabeth knows about it and has every right to apply it as needed. You're lucky she didn't introduce you to it last week when you were causing her so much trouble. She's a very patient woman."

"You're – you're not really going to use that thing, are you?" Peter's eyebrow rose at the question. "Peter! You c-can't!" The other eyebrow lifted. The younger man studied his face for a few moments before realizing that he could and he would. Dread filled him, but he knew there was no escape. When Peter gave him a hard, poignant glare, Neal finished undressing and resignedly waited for his next orders.

Peter sat on the bed and patted his knee as an invitation to Neal to take his position. Keeping his eyes on the floor, Neal moved in beside his friend and let himself be guided into place. He recognized a strange feeling he had had the last time Peter disciplined him: security. Neal wondered why, in this position and about to be spanked, he would feel safe all of a sudden. This was of course mingled with feelings of trepidation and anxiety, but only because he knew he deserved what was coming. He realized then that it was Peter's presence that afforded him this feeling of wellbeing. He relaxed a tiny bit knowing he could trust Peter to do what was best.

Peter wasted no time. Quickly and efficiently he painted a stinging base coat on the young man's butt with the palm of his hand. Neal tried his very best not to struggle or cry out. He also tried to remember to breathe. Soon, however, he was letting out small cries of, "Ow! Peter, please! Ow! I'm sorry. I'm sorry! Whatever I did, I'm sorry!"

This last cry made Peter pause. 'Whatever I did'? It was time for Peter to switch to the paddle now anyway. He held it steadily over his target and ordered, "Neal, tell me why you think you're being punished."

Trying to regain some composure though he knew this spanking was far from over, Neal took a few deep breaths before answering, "I used the phone when I wasn't supposed to."

"Correct." Peter snapped the paddle down on the younger man's butt twice. "What else?"

"I-I manipulated Mr. Franklin . . . "

Before he could qualify that with the 'favor' he had done Elizabeth, Peter gave him two more swats of the paddle. This time Neal cried out as the fire in his butt grew to what he felt was dangerous levels. Without mercy, Peter responded, "Right. What else?"

"I – uh – I got Elizabeth a job?" He didn't really think that was right, but he didn't know what Peter was fishing for now.

Peter smacked the paddle down hard directly across the young man's sit spot. "OWWWW! Peter! What? I'm sorry! Okay?"

"You want to give that one another shot?" Peter firmly asked.

Neal's immediate reaction was to say, "NO!" but he stopped himself knowing it would only earn him another hard swat. Instead, he tried, "I-I-" The honest truth was always the hardest to say out loud, especially when it involved hurting someone he truly admired, "I manipulated Elizabeth." He waited for the paddle to fall, but it didn't come.

Quietly, Peter asked, "How do you think that made her feel, Neal?"

Suddenly, the young man felt tears spring to his eyes. He hadn't thought before about how his actions might have negatively affected her. "Peter, I – I didn't think . . ." he sniffled quietly into the comforter.

"I know you didn't, Neal. Now you need to decide how you're going to make that up to her. A spanking isn't going to cover that one." Neal nodded his head as his breath caught in his throat. "First though, we have one more thing to go over. You said you did all this because you couldn't stand being confined like this anymore. Do I have to remind you of the alternative to this punishment?"

Neal frantically shook his head, "No. It's part of the stipulation Agent Hotchner set down to keep me out of prison."

"Exactly. This constant engineering of your surroundings to fit what you want is what gets you into trouble, young man. I can see now that I've allowed it to go on too long, and I'm going to start putting a stop to it now. Am I clear?"

"Yes, Peter. Chrystal."

"Good. And to make certain, I am going to finish up with a little preview of what you can expect if I find you manipulating people again." He lifted the paddle and covered Neal's butt with hard, efficient swats.

Neal cried out from the first to the last. Because Neal was completely unable to stop himself from moving his hips and bucking in an attempt to avoid the paddle, Peter wrapped his right leg over the younger man's legs and held on tightly to his waist with his left arm. Try as he might to get away, Neal was secure.

Neal was sobbing with all his heart by the time Peter was satisfied he had learned his lesson. When the spanking stopped, he stayed draped over the older man's knee, crying, "I'm sorry, Peter. I'm sorry." Over and over again until he was out of tears.

Peter waited patiently, rubbing gentle circles in the boy's back. When he quieted down enough to listen, Peter said, "It's okay now, Buddy. I forgive you."

The feeling of wellbeing returned to Neal full-force again. Yes, he was hurting inside and out, but he knew he was safe. He would still need to talk with Elizabeth and figure out what he could do to make it up to her, but he knew she and Peter were there for him no matter what.

XOXOXOXO

Please let me know what you think so far. I don't hardly bite at all.