Reid sat on his sofa and stared miserably around the walls of his apartment.

His bag was packed and ready to go beside him. By his calculations, he had precisely three minutes to sit and stew before he had to leave in order to make it to Hotch's place within his one-hour deadline. He had never wanted to double lock his front door more and crawl under a blanket with a hot chocolate and seven to eight books more. He knew what was waiting for him at Hotch's. His behind still burned from the taster he had received in the Conference Room and the thoughts of suffering through a full spanking before the day was over was utterly diabolical to him. The added fact that whatever his backside received tonight was not the full force of his sentence was absolutely stomach turning.

He couldn't remember Hotch ever being as angry with him as he was right now.

He worried his lip and lambasted himself for not going to Hotch in the first place. He would have known what to do. He would have given him the kind of sensible advice he needed. He had been so close. He had dialled the man's number time and time again before hitting the decline button at the last minute. His mind drifted back to the attitude he had been giving the older man on their last case and his face burned with embarrassment. His subconscious mind chose that moment to spit captured images into his conscious mind to add to that embarrassment. He saw snippets of shock across Morgan, JJ's, Prentiss' and Rossi's face when they heard how he spoke to Hotch. His brow furrowed… there had been something more than shock on Rossi's face. Something else. Something directed more at Hotch than at him.

He pushed it out of his mind. He only had one minute left in the safety of his apartment.

He could refuse, he rationalised. He could insist that Hotch apply Agency approved sanctions for his conduct. Those sanctions would, of course, be his immediate termination from the FBI together with criminal charges for drug violations. He immediately dismissed the idea not least because he knew none of those sanctions would rid him of the heavy rock of guilt that was lodged in his gut. As unpleasant, painful and downright horrifying as a charred backside was, it provided a catharsis that would ail his wounded psyche. His minute countdown morphed into a ten second countdown and he reluctantly took a firm grip of his go-bag. He knew he wouldn't be seeing his apartment for a while and bid it a saddened farewell as he shut and locked his front door.

The ride over the Hotch's took a lot shorter a time than he would have liked.

Parking outside his Boss' apartment block, he felt a familiar second-hand sadness dog him. Hotch had never been as happy in his apartment as he had been at his home complete with white picket fence, Hayley and Jack. They were at least getting on better now, friends even. A selfish gratefulness that neither of them could possibly overhear what was to come washed over him. Glancing at the clock, he saw he had seven minutes left but decided to bite the bullet and head up. The walk into the building and the elevator seemed to take forever but before he knew it, he was outside Hotch's front door. His fight or flight instinct ramped up into overdrive and he had to fight harder than hard to reach out and knock on the man's door before he could turn and bolt.

It was opened almost immediately.

Hotch, dressed much more casually in a pair of faded jeans and a navy sweater, looked a little less intimidating than his earlier suited and booted demeanour. Looking at the bag in Reid's hand with approval, he nodded slightly and stepped back out of the way.

"In you come."

Preferring to walk into the jaws of a ravenous lion, Reid took a deep breath and walked into the familiar home. The door shutting closed behind him was like a high security prison door to his keen ears. Without having to be told, he went and deposited his bag in the familiar guest room before making his way nervously back out to the living room to find Hotch seated in his usual armchair. He pointed to the armchair opposite him and Reid slowly made his way to it. Sitting down gingerly, he looked up at Hotch, half expecting him to yank him out of the chair and straight over his knee.

"You ok, Reid?"

This was said in a much gentler tone and with a ring of sincerity.

Spencer was momentarily wrongfooted before recovering.

"Uh… yeah, I'm fine. I'm ok."

Hotch nodded before moving to completely discombobulate his young charge.

"I'm sorry, Reid. I shouldn't have spanked you like that back in the Conference Room. I wasn't out of control, but I wasn't fully in control either. I was extremely angry with you. I should have waited until I was calm enough to be sure that I wouldn't cross the line from in control to out of control. That's my bad. I promise you that it won't happen again."

Reid felt his mouth fall open.

"You don't have to apologise! I deserve-"

"You deserve to always be dealt with in a calm manner by someone who is in complete and utter control of themselves," Hotch interrupted quietly. "I did not do that. I was wrong. I am quick to hold you to account when you are wrong and so I have to do likewise with myself. I was wrong, Reid, and I'm sorry. I promise you it won't happen again. Ok?"

Knowing that Hotch was adamant as to his position, Reid felt himself nod on instinct.

"Ok…"

The elder Agent inclined his head in appreciation before leaning back in his chair and eying his protégé.

"I'm in full control now, Reid and that means you are in for a very unpleasant time. I need to figure out what, exactly, to do with you. I need to ensure that you appreciate the staggering seriousness of what you have done. I also need to ensure that you are ok and that you are coping. Believe it or believe it not, the latter part of that statement is more important to me than the former and so I'm going to go ahead and deal with that part first."

He leaned forward in his chair, taking in a paling Reid with his x-ray stare.

"Talk to me," he said gently. "Talk to me about what's going on with your mother. What's going on with her condition that you felt compelled to do what you did. Speak freely. I will not think that you're trying to give me excuses because there are no excuses and I know that you know that. So, speak freely. Start at the beginning and don't leave anything out. Ok?"

Reid felt the all-too-familiar constriction in his throat appear at the mention of his mother. Usually, he would try and get out of a conversation like the one Hotch was currently insisting on. In his present state, he just didn't have the energy to argue and so he complied. He told the older man about the phone call after phone call he had received from his mother's care home. He told him how she had become violent, recognising nothing and no one around her and lashing out. How she had gone from periods of prolonged lucidity to a consistent state of confusion and aggression. How the last time he had gone to visit her she didn't even recognise him, wasn't even aware of the fact that she had ever had a son in the first place. He explained how he had become fixated on seeking out an alternative method of treatment as traditional method after traditional method failed miserably. He told him about how he had stockpiled the drugs from Devon before snapping back into reality and accepting that he couldn't cure or change the course of Alzheimer's, no matter how much he wanted to. By the time he was done talking, he was practically hoarse. Hotch hadn't interrupted him once, letting the kid talk for a solid ten minutes, expelling the heavy load from his chest.

By the time the room fell silent, the Team Lead felt the pain of the kid acutely.

"I'm so sorry," he said softly. "It's never easy seeing a parent decline but it must be especially hard given the close relationship you have with your mother. I wish I could make this better for you, but I can't. All I can do is tell you that whatever you need, it's yours. Whatever time you need, you got it. That goes for resources too and… if you ever need someone to tag along with you for Doctor's appointments and clinical meetings… I can be a pretty decent travel companion."

He swallowed uncomfortably with a small shrug of his shoulders.

"If you want, that is."

Reid stared at the man who was much more than a Boss and peeled his lips apart.

"Thanks, Hotch," he said quietly, the sincerity in his voice evident. "I appreciate the offer and uhh… I might just take you up on that."

He suddenly remembered himself and grimaced.

"I mean thanks, Sir."

Shaking his head, the long-suffering Team Lead waived a dismissive hand.

"When you're in trouble at the office, it's Sir. When you're in trouble in my home, it's Hotch."

Reid offered a small smile.

"Thanks," he mumbled. "I hate having to call you Sir. Feels wrong."

Hotch nodded in understanding.

"Not as much as I hate being called it," he said truthfully. "Ok, first thing's first. You need to eat and so do I. Chinese take-out sound good?"

Reid shook his head.

"Not hungry," he said quietly. "Kinda hard to have an appetite when you know your death is imminent."

Hotch snorted derisively.

"You're spending way too much time with Garcia; her dramatic flair is rubbing off on you. Your death is not imminent. I am going to discipline you, not murder you. Now, I presume Chow Mein is still your favourite? Dry, extra Bean Sprouts?"

Reid looked at him balefully.

"Your discipline has the effect of making its recipient long for death and that's a close enough link for me."

Hotch rolled his eyes.

"Hyperbole is not becoming on you. Chow Mein or the first thing I see on the menu. You're eating one of them. What's it going to be?"

Scowling slightly, Reid acceded to the Chow Mein option and sat silently as Hotch slipped out of the apartment to run down to the Chinese take-out that was just half a block away. He stared unseeingly at the familiar walls of his apartment. Usually, he looked forward to the dinners he had here. Today, he would have run a marathon to get away from the four walls that encased him. Sighing, he got up and set the table to have something to do. Just as he was setting down a water pitcher, Hotch arrived with a bag of takeout and a small container of cheesecake. Reid looked at his favourite banoffee dessert in astonishment as Hotch set it down on the table, fishing out their respective containers of dinner. Sitting down, Hotch's eyes followed Reid's and he frowned at the confusion on the kid's face.

"What's the matter? Don't you like banoffee anymore?"

Sitting down in his usual spot, Spencer looked at him in bafflement.

"I'm in some of the worst trouble I've ever been in with you and you still stopped to pick up my favourite dessert?"

Hotch stared in confusion.

"C'mon Reid, am I really that bad? I know I'm a hardass but just because you're in trouble doesn't mean that you don't get to eat the things you like."

Smiling for the first time in what felt like forever, the kid cleared his throat.

"Thanks, Hotch."

The man responded by looking meaningfully at the carton of Chow Mein on Reid's plate. Sighing, the genius opened it reluctantly. As soon as the smell hit him, his stomach grumbled in hunger and he was immediately eating with a gusto, oblivious to Hotch's amused smile. Before long, his plate was cleared and he was happily inhaling his cheesecake. He helped clear the table cheerfully and had nearly forgotten why he was at Hotch's in the first place until the man threw the last knife in the dishwasher before quietly ordering him into the living room. His heart sank a hundred feet. He was sat slumped in his usual armchair when Hotch came back into the living room. He watched silently as he resumed his spot directly opposite him and fixed him with a stern glare.

"Ok. Now you're fed and watered, it's time to talk."

Reid looked at him helplessly.

"Just talk?"

Hotch glared in warning.

"You know full well we're not just going to talk."

Nodding, the kid slumped back further in the chair and looked morosely up at the ceiling.

"I know."

Sighing, Hotch slipped forcefully back into Boss mode, albeit the working-from-home kind.

"Look at me when you speak to me."

Reid did as he was bid with a mumbled apology.

"I want to know why you didn't come to me," Hotch said quietly. "This could all have been avoided if you had just come to me. I have bent over backwards to impress my open-door policy upon you. Or at least I thought I had."

Reid groaned.

"You did impress it upon me. I know your door is always open…"

Hotch blinked in cross confusion.

"Then why didn't you walk through it?"

Reid squirmed slightly.

"I guess I didn't want you to be disappointed in me…"

Hotch tilted his head pointedly.

"Well, that didn't work out very well, did it? Because I'm about as disappointed in you right now as I ever have been."

Reid's head dropped guiltily downwards to his chest.

"I know…"

"Eyes up. Right now."

Reid snapped his gaze up with an intense reluctance.

"I'm sorry, Hotch. I'm sorry for doing what I did. I'm sorry for my attitude and disrespect on the case. I should never have taken everything out on you. I'm not even sure why I chose you to take it out on but it just seemed the instinctive choice. But most of all I'm sorry for the position I've put you in… we both know you should fire me and we both know if this ever got out you would be fired for not firing me and so I'd understand if you… if you had to fire me."

Hotch was both mollified and angered by the kid's apology.

"I am not firing you," he growled. "No one is firing you. This will never get out if we speak of it to no one. I will have to live with my decision which goes against my beliefs and everything the badge stands for… but that is my choice. Those are my consequences. We're not here to talk about my consequences, we're here to talk about your consequences."

He raised a pointed brow.

"And it doesn't take a profiler to figure out why you chose to take the stress of your monumental lapse in judgment out on me, Reid. You wanted, on some level, to get caught. To get all of this off your chest and what faster way to do that than to give me persistent lip and attitude. Right?"

Reid nodded, the obvious nature of his choice slapping him in the face.

"Right. I guess that is pretty obvious."

Hotch stared at him with a clear ya think expression before speaking quietly.

"I want to make something clear to you. I want to make it clear to you that I am not angry with you for trying to help your mother. Of course, you want to help your mother. That's perfectly natural. I'm angry with how you tried to help your mother. If you had stopped, even for one second, to speak to me… I could have put a stop to this before it ever got going. I could have explained to you that trialling a non-FDA approved drug on your mother, in secret, was an absolutely ludicrous thing to do. But you didn't do that. You didn't come to me when you should have. You didn't come to me, despite the hundreds of times I have told you that you can always come to me and as a result, you have committed several criminal actions that are enough to land you in jail for an appreciable length of time. That is why I am so angry with you… not for trying to help your mother but how you went about it. Do you understand the difference?"

Reid nodded without hesitation.

"Yes, Hotch."

The older man studied his face for a moment before seeming satisfied.

"Good. I don't think there's any need for a drawn-out lecture… you seem to know exactly why you're in the hot seat right now?"

Reid sighed in acquiescence.

"I know exactly why I'm in the hot seat, Hotch."

The Team Lead raised a brow and a very small smile twitched at the corners of his lips.

"Sorry. Did I get the name wrong? Is it not the hot seat but rather the… what is it now… the Hotch Spot?"

Reid stared at him with his mouth slightly open in horror.

"Uhh… no… I don't know… er…"

Hotch held up a hand with a shake of his head.

"Sure thing," he said dryly. "Anyway, if you're clear on why you are where you are I think we can proceed directly to sentencing. Agreed?"

Ried nodded with considerable reluctance.

"Agreed."

Hotch carded a hand through his dark hair as he firmed up in his decision. It was harsh, sure, but it was measured and necessary and he needed to teach the kid a lesson he wasn't likely to forget. It was literally for his own good. Next time, if there was a next time, there was no guarantee he could cover it up. He needed to nip this in the bud. Pronto.

"Ok, well first of all, you're confined. No privileges. You're going to stay here and go to work and nowhere in between for the next two weeks at a minimum. No friends, no fun, no anything. You will also work cold cases in the evening. The extremely boring kind. Is that clear?"

Groaning, Reid deflated in the chair.

"Uh huh."

Hotch raised a pointed brow.

"I beg your pardon?"

Reid smartened up.

"I mean, yes, Hotch. It's clear."

"Better," the older man replied reprovingly. "Second of all, I think you're owed two substantial spankings for your actions. The first, for thinking it was just a splendid idea as a serving FBI Agent to source, procure and possess illegal narcotics and the second for your outrageous attitude and disrespect this week. Is that understood?"

The word substantial hung in the air like a smog.

Reid swallowed. Hard. He looked at the unyielding Team Lead with puppy dog eyes.

"Two? Substantial?"

Hotch nodded without hesitation.

"Two. Substantial. It's non-negotiable. Is that clear?"

Knowing he wasn't exactly in a position to bargain; the kid closed his eyes for a moment and accepted his fate. Peeling them back open and looking at Hotch with such misery that he could never know broke the man's heart, he bobbed his head up and down in understanding.

"It's clear, Hotch."

Relief flooded through the older man. The last thing he felt like was a battle of wills. Reid was a lot of amazing things but he could be stubborn as all manner of hell if the mood struck him. Swallowing, Hotch resolved to carry out part of the kid's sentence then and there. They weren't on an active case and he figured spending the day sitting at his desk on a charred behind tomorrow would be a good learning experience for his boy wonder.

"Good. We're going to go ahead and get number one taken care of right now. Go and bring me the chair and the hairbrush. You have two minutes."

Reid couldn't help but meowing in misery.

"The brush? Hotch-"

"The brush or my belt, Reid. You pick."

The Doctor knew when he was beat. Getting slowly to his feet, he shot his mentor one last look of misery which was dutifully ignored before sloping off to get the chair and brush as bid. Hotch always used a highbacked, armless dining room chair when he had caused to dish out a spanking and Reid pulled it out from under the dining table in extreme distaste. Setting off to the cabinet in the hallway which housed the dreaded and impossibly thick wooden hairbrush, he didn't see the look of confused apprehension that crossed Hotch's face as he read a message that just beeped into his cell from one David Rossi.

"Aaron. I specifically told you to drop by my house on your way home. It wasn't a request. See me first thing tomorrow morning. My office – Rossi."

Hotch, despite his confusion, age and position, gulped. Being called Aaron was never a good sign with Rossi. Thinking furiously to himself, he tried to fathom what the hell his old Mentor wanted that was so urgent before his mind trailed off in a different, decidedly unpleasant direction.

What the hell did I do now?

….

So, I've decided to do a longer fic which will be Hotch/Reid and Rossi/Hotch with maybe a light sprinkling of "grandfatherly" Rossi/Reid but with no direct corp. punishment between the two. For me, they just don't have that kind of relationship on the show but Rossi may feel the need to verbally chastise our boy wonder from time to time.

Let me know if there's any specific scenarios you guys would like to see?

Inks x

….