"Mr Caffrey," Warden Cruz stood inside the unlocked holding cell door and beckoned with her arm, "you're being released."

"Really?" It sounded too good to be true.

"Yes. Let's go. You're being released into the custody of Agent Burke." Yeah, too good to be true alright. "He's in the outer office ready to take you home, Neal."

"No thank you, Ms Cruz." Neal backed further into the cell.

Cruz wasn't sure what that was supposed to mean. "Excuse me?"

"I said, 'No thank you, ma'am.' I'll just stay here if that's alright with you."

"No. It's not alright with me, Neal. You're father is here to take you home and he's waiting for you right now." Lauren tried to sound firm but the situation was really quite amusing.

"That's good to know, ma'am, but I'm not going anywhere." The boy had his back pressed firmly against the wall of the cell.

"Have it your way, Mr Caffrey." Lauren stepped back out, and deliberately left the cell door open as she returned to the outer office empty handed.

Neal hung his head. This wasn't going to end well. He needed a minute to strategise. What could he possibly say to Peter to get him out of this mess? He'd been thinking too long about how to get out of the detention centre, not how to get out of what was sure to be one hell of a consequence from his dad. Lauren had taken him by surprise and he hadn't been ready. And now…

He ceased all thought processes when heard footsteps approaching. He held his breath and considered that maybe if he was very still and ever so quite, he wouldn't even be noticed. He knew those footsteps. Neal thought it was a strange thing how you could tell a person by the sound of their steps. He always knew if it was his mom or dad walking around upstairs when he was sitting in the living room, they both had unique pacing to their steps. Unfortunately, the steps he could hear now, increasing in volume, belonged to his dad. As the footsteps grew louder, so did the matching pounding from his heart. All too soon, the footsteps stopped, right outside the entrance to his holding cell. Then there was silence. Neal wanted to look up, but he couldn't. He knew what was there without looking anyway. Why bother with confirmation? The junior criminal continued to study the floor. He knew Peter was there. He knew his dad would look angry, he'd look disappointed and he'd look relieved. Neal knew his dad could roll all those emotions into one look. The poor guy had been given a lot of practice.

The silence was excruciating. Someone say something please! Neal cursed in his head, and took a reluctant step towards the door, still without taking his eyes off the floor. Maybe if he didn't look, he could pretend for a little while longer that this was all just a bad dream. Another step, another foot closer to reality. His stomach was twisting in knots and if his breathing became any more difficult he may very well find himself passed out before he completed his journey. He could only hope! He was literally dragging his feet along the ground as he reached the final inches of his walk of doom. At last, he knew he'd reached the end, not because he finally braved a glance up, but because his eyes settled on a very familiar pair of well polished black Oxfords, his own sneakers looking tiny by comparison to the large pair of shoes standing firm blocking any hope of freedom. He felt Peter's tension, he felt his stress and then he felt a very firm hand slam against his backside. Yep, no need to look up. He hung his head low and followed the well polished shoes into the outer office.

He heard Peter say his goodbyes to Lauren as he trailed behind his father all the way back to the parking lot. A car door was opened and he slid himself onto the back seat. The door was shut, for sure it had the child lock and he heard Peter getting into the driver's seat. The car shifted into drive and Neal decided it was time to bite the bullet and chance a glance at his dad. He couldn't see much. A little bit of the side of his face but mostly the back of his head. Neal decided it couldn't possibly be a bad dream, for if it was, real steam would be shooting out of his dad's ears and molten larva would be bubbling out of the top of his head. Still, he would have preferred the dream. At least in that scenario there was a chance that some miracle of nature might take place and stem Mt Saint Burke from erupting. Sadly though, there'd be no miracles in this reality and unquestionably, there was going to be a hell of an eruption. Peter was yet to speak to his son and Neal suspected the older man needed all the time he could to calm his emotions. It was going to be a long two hours to get home but where Neal was concerned, if the journey took two years it would still be too short.

-W-C-

The Taurus pulled up outside the Burke's Brooklyn address right on sundown. Neal saw the irony in the timing even if it was lost on his driver. The boy hadn't considered he'd have to face the other half of Team Consequence upon arriving home. He'd had many other thoughts but his mom, waiting with her arms folded and a serious scowl on her face, had slipped his mind. This just kept getting better. Neal stayed in his seat, not that he really had a choice with the whole kiddie lock restriction, until Peter came around and released him. Now if only he could move. Why was his body being so damn uncooperative? Not that he needed his body to comply when he had a back-up plan - Peter. Before his brain registered what was happening, Peter had him out of the car, on his feet and was being helped towards the front porch with a stinging swat to his butt. With that generous assistance, he was able to travel the rest of the journey of his own accord. "Hi Mom." Neal didn't bother with the usual charm. He'd left that at the Moreton Detention Centre in his private little holding cell. Instead he returned his mom kiss and accepted her hug as possibly the final calm before the great storm that was brewing to his flank.

El released her son and ordered, "Go wash up for dinner."

Neal didn't feel in the slightest bit like eating but now was not the time to be obstreperous. He returned quickly from the bathroom to find his mom and dad already seated at the table and his meal served for him. The dish was a simple pasta, not like he could care less what was on the plate. Eating was the last thing the knots in his stomach needed. He knew that with every passing moment, he was pulled closer to the mother of all lectures and his inevitable punishment. There had been times in the past when he was concerned Peter might resort to a threat he made very early on in their relationship but each time, fate or something equally kind had stepped in and saved his butt. Tonight, Neal had no qualms about his punishment for this latest offense. Without question, after he finished his meal, Neal knew he would finally know what it felt like to have Peter's belt land painfully on his backside.

The defeated teenager didn't have to work hard at eating slowly. It was mighty difficult to chew and swallow while sitting across from one parent that was shooting daggers and another that was still too angry to speak a single word in any direction. Dinner was more than excruciating, so Neal was partially relieved when Peter finally removed the half eaten bowl of pasta from under him and helped El clear the dishes to the kitchen. Neal made a move to help but the glare from his dad stopped him in his tracks. Finally, direct eye contact. It really hadn't been worth waiting for. Neal couldn't wait for them both to return. This was going to be so much fun!

-W-C-

Neal sat with his head in his hands and began to question if it had all been worth it.

"So, was it worth it, Neal?" Peter didn't beat around the bush as he returned from completing his kitchen chores.

Neal shrugged and the older man knew that given the same opportunities, his son would do exactly the same thing all over again.

"Answer your father Neal."

"Yes. It was worth it. Kate didn't belong up there. Sitting in a room all alone, day in day out. What a waste!"

"What a waste Neal? Seriously?" Peter gripped the back of the dining chair, trying to keep his temper in check. It wasn't working.

"What harm is she to anyone? Prison should only be for violent criminals. Kate is as caring and gentle as a person can be. She'd never hurt anyone." Neal remained seated looking up at both parents who were circling the table like sharks would their prey.

"How about the people she stole from, the people she conned. The people that you and her and the rest of her crew ripped off with your little cons. Don't those people count?"

"So you're saying I should be in prison too, Peter. Is that what you want? Would that make you h….."

"Don't you dare say, would that make me happy!" Peter finally broke. His voice bellowed through the room and all but put an end to any more discussion on the topic. Neal couldn't remember a time when Peter had yelled at him with that same degree of anger. No this had clearly surpassed all other occasions and Neal didn't like it. His dad wasn't happy and the finger of blame pointed squarely in Neal's direction. The teenager sat quietly waiting for someone else to make the next move. Peter paced back and forth taking deep breaths. After about his fifth pass he turned to face the young boy. Peter merely pointed in the direction of the stairs. His gesture spoke volumes. Neal was being sent to his room and was about to get his ass tanned.

Peter stood under the shower washing away the worries of the world. Well that was the theory. A theory that wasn't working very well. Where did it all go wrong? At what point had the wheels fallen off the wagon? For one thing, he had seriously miscalculated the power of Kate. He'd learnt the hard way that when it came to Kate, Neal's judgement was seriously lacking. But he was a FBI Agent, and a pretty damn good one at that. How had he missed the scam right under his nose? It was shameful. Plus, factor in that something very bad may have happened to his son at any point on his journey up to the detention centre with that slimy undesirable…Peter flicked off the shower. It was no more than a waste of water. After drying off, the agent pulled on some casual clothes. He closed up the wardrobe doors and stepped towards the hall. He stopped, ran his hands through his hair, sighed deeply and returned to stand once again before the wardrobe. He opened up one side and stood, just staring for ages. Finally, he reached in and removed one of his leather belts. He folded it in half and made his way to the third level.

Neal heard the small knock on his door and dived, like a little kid, under the bed. He thought maybe that if he didn't answer, perhaps all his problems would go away. Sadly, no such luck. He heard the door slowly open and then observed from his concealed space as an imposing figure came into view. Neal felt his stomach drop and was unsuccessful in brushing away his jitters. There was something terribly unnerving about his dad standing in the doorway, but it wasn't the man, in so much as what he held loosely in his hand. And if Neal had ever had any doubt, it was instantly blown away as Peter crossed the room carrying the implement that was for no other purpose than to whip his butt.

Peter made himself comfortable on the bed, steeling himself for what was to come. Neal was grateful that his bed didn't have a spring base. Then again, it may have been a more preferable fate. "Neal?"

"Yes, Dad?"

"Why are you under the bed?"

"I'm hiding."

"You're not very good at it."

"That's not true. I'm very good at it. I'm just trying convincing myself that if I stay under here long enough, you might get tired of waiting and go watch a game on the telly or something."

"Not going to happen."

"No kidding." Neal replied dryly. "Plus, I thought I was better off diving under the bed than out the window like last time. You have to give me some credit for that."

"You're right. I do appreciate the fact that you didn't run off again. I guess I should consider myself lucky." Peter said rather sarcastically.

"Dad?"

"Yes?"

"…Never mind."

"Neal, I'm going to be putting the electronic monitoring anklet back on you tomorrow."

"I figured as much."

"And tomorrow I'll be assisting the Marshalls in their search for Kate. We will find her and we will return her to the detention centre. I absolutely forbid you to have anymore contact with her. Do you understand?"

"I understand that you have a job to do."

"Neal, you understand that you are not allowed to write to Kate anymore or receive any of her letters. I've discussed it already with Warden Cruz. The letters will never be allowed past the first security check."

"Fine. I get it Dad."

"And you also get that I won't allow you to have any contact with her whatsoever,"

"Whatever." Neal was getting tired of the discussion and began to forget why he was under the bed in the first place.

"Okay. You're also grounded for the next month. It's straight home after school, no going to visit Mozzie, no hanging around Jerry, no going to the art galleries or museums unless it's with the school. Clear?"

"Yes, Dad."

"Okay then." Peter took a deep breath. "You need to come out now."

Nothing happened for a good couple of minutes. Peter had said all he needed to and so he just waited, patiently for Neal to crawl out from under the bed. If needed, he could get down on his hands and knees and physically drag the boy out but Peter appreciated the time to come to terms with the punishment he had to dish out.

Eventually, the agent felt two small hands wrap around one of his ankles. Peter smiled and stood up. He dragged his foot across the floor, essentially pulling the young boy with him. Neal slid along the ground until he was fully out from under the bed and he just lay on the ground looking up sadly at his dad. Peter's heart broke as he tried hard to keep in mind that his young boy was possibly the world's greatest junior conman. Towering over the boy he reached down. "Come on. Let's get this over with." He pulled his son to his feet and then picked the belt up from where he'd left it on the bed.

"Dad."

"Yes?"

"If this is difficult for you, we'd all understand. If you let me off, I wouldn't take that as a sign that I could now do whatever I want. You don't need to do this as a deterrent. I'm not planning on ever doing anything remotely close to what I did again."

"Neal. When we catch Kate and put her back in detention, there's not a chance on earth you won't try something else…This isn't a deterrent."

"It's not?"

"No, son. It's a punishment. You stole a car, hired an unsavoury character, forged documents that you used at a federal facility and helped a detainee to escape. You should be going to a juvenile detention centre yourself, but I would never allow that to happen. I will however not allow you to do whatever you concoct in that brilliant mind of yours without any care or consideration for the law or for how it will affect your mom or I. This is not going to be a deterrent Neal. This is me punishing you for breaking the law, being dishonest, deceitful, and reckless." Peter folded the belt and looked expectantly at Neal. The teenager had tears forming in his eyes already. This wasn't going to be easy. "Let's go son. Bend over." Peter indicated the bed behind the boy with a nod of his head.

Neal shook his head, a few stray tears escaping down the side of his cheeks. "I don't want to."

"Well, with a bit of luck you might remember to consider all the repercussions before your next hair brain scheme." Peter gently turned his boy to face the bed and pushed carefully till Neal had to reach out his hands to stop himself from falling. His palms came to rest on the mattress. Peter placed a firm hand on the boy's back and positioned himself to the side. He pulled back his arm and swung the belt firmly across the teenager's backside. Neal flinched but didn't yell or scream, just began to cry softly and as Peter swung the belt again and again, the sobs increased in volume. Neal didn't bother with trying to hold back his tears, he just dug his fingers into the comforter on the bed and tried unsuccessfully to ignore the walloping being administered to his behind. After a sound hiding, Peter gave two final very firm whacks with the belt, then placed it down on the bedside table.

Neal immediately threw himself face down on the bed and pulled a pillow over his head. Peter sat beside him rubbing a gentle hand across his back. He continued to sob for a good five minutes and then, eventually he calmed down and the sobbing gradually turned into a light sniffle.

"Neal, I'm going to give you some space for a little while, but I'll be back to check up on you shortly, okay?" Peter didn't get a response so he just patted the boy on the back, picked up his belt and quietly departed the room.

-W-C-

"So how was he when you went back to check on him?"

"Sound asleep, totally out to it. He was lying across his bed fully clothed. I didn't want to disturb him so I got a spare blanket from his wardrobe and wrapped it over him."

"Where was Elizabeth?"

"She was waiting for me in our room. She was pretty shattered by the whole prison break scam concocted by her son. Between the two of us, we were both mentally drained. We held each other on the bed and drifted off to sleep sometime in the early hours of the morning."

"You would have been a bit of mess the next day, I guess…How was Neal?"

"As expected, quiet, well behaved,…sore maybe?"

"But not sorry?"

"I'm confident he was very sorry. Sorry that he was caught and had his butt whipped. But you're right. As far as being sorry for helping Kate to break out, no chance. I reattached the tracking anklet. There was no doubt in my mind he would catch up with Kate before I could."

"So the punishment hadn't been a deterrent at all?"

"No, unfortunately. As I've said before, when it comes to Kate, Neal's judgement and common sense are seriously lacking. Add that to the fact the boy has no impulse control and it's a recipe for disaster."

"So you were well aware that you weren't out of the woods."

"Janice, you have no idea. The worse was yet to come."