A couple days later, Neal was feeling a lot better. Peter, El, and Mozzie had been stopping by a lot checking on him. Diana and Jones even stopped by once to check on him.

Neal was sitting on his sofa when there was a knock at his door, he figured it was Peter. The older man was supposed to stop by and drop off some case files that he wanted Neal to look at since he was feeling better.

But when Neal opened the door, he was greeted by Mozzie instead.

"Hey Mozz." He smiled, stepping aside so he could enter.

"I come bearing gifts." The shorter man said, handing Neal an envelope. "Providing you will be released from house arrest by Saturday." Mozzie knew that June had been keeping an eye on Neal and had ordered him to stay inside and out of the cold weather outside. He was glad that Neal had someone who cared enough about him to want to keep him well.

"Yeah, I'll be completely well by then. I'll still be on the antibiotics though." Neal replied, opening the envelope and pulling out a card. Smiling when he read it, it was two invitations to a fancy art gallery opening. "How did you wrangle these?"

"Since you are in the payroll of the suits, I will not answer that question." Mozzie replied. "It is out of your two mile tether, so I included one for which ever suit you care to bring along."

"Thank you Mozzie."

Mozzie stayed for a few minutes, then left. A little while after he left, Peter showed up. The two men sat at the dinning table and started going over the files.

"Hey Peter." Neal said. "How would you like to join me for the premier opening of an art gallery?"

"Let me guess, it's out of your two mile radius?"

"Yeah."

"I might be interested, when is it?"

"Saturday." Neal smiled. "It's on the corner of Addison Avenue. They will display works of art from…"

"No." Peter said, cutting him off.

"Why not?"

"Do you know who is opening that gallery?"

"Damian Marcus." Neal said.

"The same Damian Marcus that is being investigated by at least three different law enforcement groups, including us. That place is going to be crawling with known criminals, and not associating with known criminals is part of your deal."

"Come on Peter." Neal said. "It's just an art gallery opening, it's not like there will be anything illegal going on."

"No."

"Peter."

"No, Neal."

"That's not fair." Neal said angrily. "I am an adult, you do not have the right…"

"Yes I do." Peter cut him off again. "I am your handler, you are my responsibility. You are also my friend, and I do not want to see you sent back to prison. If the police raid that place and you are there, that is where you will land. And what if there are some of your old acquaintances there? They will try to get you back into the life of cons. Or worse, there might be some of your old enemies there."

"You'll be there to keep me out of trouble." Neal said.

"No I won't. And neither will you. I mean it Neal, that place is off limits."

"Fine." Neal sulked. He knew there was no changing Peter's mind when it was made up. And it was out of his radius, so sneaking off to it would not be possible."

/

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The next day, Neal was watching TV when his phone rung.

"Hey Mozzie." He said into the receiver, after checking the caller id.

"I just called to let you know that the gallery opening has moved." Mozzie said. "Apparently there is an electrical problem with the building on Addison Avenue, and instead of postponing the event, they decided to just move the viewing of the displays to a building on Harrison Street."

"Ok." Neal smiled, that was within his two mile radius. "I will see you there then."

"No you won't, I have made prior plans."

"What plans?" Neal asked, knowing that the older man would not answer.

"I will talk to you later."

"Bye, and thanks."

Neal hung up.

"Looks like I'm going after all." He felt guilty about planning on going after Peter said no, but he really wanted to go. He knew Peter only said no because he was trying to protect him, but he was Neal Caffrey. He didn't need protection, he would be in his element. He would be just fine.

/

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The rest of the week went by uneventful, and it was soon Saturday. He was feeling perfectly healthy by then, with no symptoms at all.

As Neal was getting dressed, he saw the bottle of antibiotics sitting on the bedside table. He was supposed to take them until Monday, but he had stopped on Thursday instead. He knew he would be drinking wine at the gallery, he could not go to one of these affairs without partaking in the fine wine. So he wanted to make sure the pills were out of his system first.

He didn't figure he needed the rest, after all, he felt fine now. But he had been taking the pills out of the bottle; he had noticed June checking the bottle a couple times to make sure he was taking them. He felt guilty deceiving her that way, but he figured it was not really lying.

After checking his appearance in the mirror one last time, Neal grabbed his hat and left. He saw Samantha and June in front of the front door. June was kneeling in front of the young girl and was helping her granddaughter button up a heavy coat.

"Hi Neal." The young girl greeted him with a smile.

"Hello, Sammy." Neal returned the smile.

"There you go, Honey." June said, standing up. "Have fun." She kissed the young girl's cheek, and then Samantha left.

June looked at Neal and frowned. "Go back upstairs and grab your heavy coat." She said. "It is in the low twenties outside."

"I don't need a heavier coat, this one…"

"Do not argue." June said. "You just got over the flu." Her voice was stern.

"Okay." Neal sighed. He turned and ran upstairs to get the heavier coat.

"That's better." June said, when he walked back down the stairs. "Have fun."

"I will." Neal smiled, kissing her cheek.

As soon as he walked outside and the frigid air assaulted him, Neal was glad that June had insisted on him wearing a thicker coat. He walked the short distance to the gallery opening and walked inside.

"Neal Caffrey." A familiar voice called out. Neal turned and saw a man around his age walking towards him.

"Aaron Craig." Neal said. "Long time no see, my friend."

"Close to ten years." Craig said. "How have you been doing?"

"Just fine, how about you?"

"No complaints, keeping busy."

The two men chatted for several minutes, both drinking Champaign.

"I'd advice staying away from him, Aaron." A new voice said. They turned and saw another man walking over. The new man was giving Neal a very disapproving glare.

"Hello Gilmore." Neal said, returning the glare.

"You two still butting heads?" Craig asked, shaking his head. "It's been eleven years, give it a rest."

"He's gone fed." Gilmore said. "I sure hope you didn't tell him anything that they would be interested in."

"What?" Craig asked, giving Neal a questioning look.

"He's working with the feds." Gilmore said. "Helping them arrest people like us. He's probably wired right now."

"That true, Neal?" Craig asked.

"I work with the FBI." Neal said. "But I am here to enjoy the display, no other reason."

"Of course you are." Gilmore replied, then walked away.

"Neal Caffrey's gone fed." Craig said, shaking his head. "That just doesn't sound right."

"It was either that or prison." Neal said.

"Good choice." Then he smiled. "Don't let Gilmore get under your skin, man. This is a party, let's party."

"Sounds like a plan." Neal returned the smile.

/

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An hour later, Neal was starting to feel real light headed. He staggered over to the wall and leaned his back against it, trying to clear his head. But the dizziness only got worse, the room started spinning.

"You okay?" A voice asked. Neal knew he should know who the voice belonged to, but he couldn't concentrate on it. Nor could he concentrate on the fuzzy person who asked the question.

"I think you had too much to drink." The voice said again, or at least he thought it was the same voice. But he wasn't sure. He felt two sets of hands grabbing him, pulling him. He was too disorientated to protest, he just went along with the pulling.

The room was still swaying and becoming very fuzzy, it was getting hard to tell if he was still walking.

"Hey!" A voice shouted. Again, he thought he should know that voice, but he couldn't focus on it. "Leave him alone!" The voice shouted. Neal wished he'd shut up, his yelling was making his head hurt worse.

"Stay out of this." A voice said.

"You pull that trigger, and the police will be called."

Great, Neal thought. Someone had a gun, wonder who it was. Was it him? He didn't think it was, but he wasn't sure of anything right now. He looked down at his hands, but only saw a blurry fuzzy object. When did his hands start looking like that?

"He's a fed." A voice hissed out.

"I said leave him alone."

"Fine."

Neal felt himself falling, or at least he thought he was falling. He wasn't sure of anything at the moment. He was still trying to figure out if he was the one with the gun. He hoped not, he hated guns.

"Hang on Caffrey." A voice said. "Help's on the way."

Help? Who needed help? Was someone coming to help him figure out if he had a gun? He hoped so, he hated guns.

/

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Peter rushed into the ER waiting room and up to the nurse's desk. "Agent Peter Burke." He said, flashing his badge. "I was told a Neal Caffrey was brought in here."

"The doctor is with him now." The nurse replied. "Please have a seat, the doctor will be out soon."

"What's wrong with Neal?" Peter asked. "What happened?"

"Please have a seat Sir." The nurse said, more persistently. "The doctor will be out soon."

"I need to know what happened." Peter growled.

"Then talk to him." The nurse nodded towards a man standing a few feet away. "He is the one who brought Mr. Caffrey here."

Peter walked over to the man and flashed his badge. "What happened?" He asked.

"Caffrey got kinda loopy, he might have been drugged. A couple men were about to shoot him and toss him into a dumpster, you know to teach him a lesson about working for the feds. I stopped them."

"Thank you." Peter sighed in relief, glad that the man had stopped them from really hurting or killing Neal.

"I was just evening the fight a bit."

"What's your name?"

"Tommy Gilmore."

"Who tried shooting and dumping Neal into the dumpster?"

"Aaron Craig and another guy I never met, Craig and Caffrey were friends once upon a time. They seemed pretty buddy buddy at the opening, guess Craig was just pretending."

"Opening?" Peter asked, feeling his blood start to boil.

"Yeah, it was at an art gallery opening."

"Will you be willing to testify…"

"No way." Gilmore said, turning around and walking quickly to the exit. "I'm out of it." Then he was gone.

/

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Peter was standing in the waiting room a few minutes later, when the doctor came out. Peter introduced himself, then asked about Neal.

"Mr. Caffrey will be fine." The doctor said.

"Was he drugged?"

"No."

"Drunk?"

"No."

"Then what happened?"

"Mr. Caffrey was on some strong antibiotics." The doctor explained. "Apparently he hasn't taken any in a couple of days, but they were still in his system. The medication mixed with the alcohol that Mr. Caffrey drank, and that is what caused the confusion and dizziness."

"But he will be okay?"

"Yes, he will be ready to go in a couple hours. You can wait with him if you like. He is asleep now, and will be drowsy and confused when he first wakes up. But it will pass soon.

"Thank you." Peter said, worry had been replaced by relief, then anger. He was going to kill Neal, that's all there was to it. Neal was a dead man.

/

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Neal slowly woke up, and his eyes were assaulted by bright light. He moaned and closed them again.

"Hey, Neal." A familiar voice said.

"Peter?" Neal asked, without opening his eyes. "What are you doing here?" Neal was trying to make sense of what was going on, but he found it very difficult to focus. "Thought you didn't want to come."

"You're in the hospital." Peter said, his voice soft. "Can you tell me what happened?"

"Why am I here?" Neal asked, confused.

"I'm guessing that's a no to my question." Peter replied.

Neal slowly opened his eyes again, wincing when the light hit them. But they remained opened.

"What happened?" Neal asked, as his brain was slowly clearing.

"You don't remember anything?"

"I remember voices, and people pulling me." Neal said. "And something about a gun."

"Two men tried to shoot you and throw your body into a dumpster." Peter said, his anger returning.

"Gilmore?" Neal asked. "I know he doesn't like me, but….."

"Gilmore's the one who stopped the other two and brought you here." Peter said. "A guy named Aaron Craig and another man are the ones who tried killing you."

"Aaron?" Neal asked in confusion.

"Why the hell did you go there?" Peter asked, his voice hard.

Neal looked at the older man with a questioning look for a second, and then his brain caught up to what had happened. He wasn't even supposed to be there.

"I asked you a question."

"They moved it." Neal said, flashing a smile. "It was within my two mile radius."

"I'm changing that two mile radius to the inside of you room." Peter said sternly. "Consider yourself grounded until you return to work on Monday."

"But Peter."

"Don't worry, you won't want to leave the room anyway." Peter said. "You will be too sore."

Neal gulped.

The door opened and the doctor walked in, ending their conversation.

/

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A couple hours later, Peter and Neal were in Peter's car heading back to June's.

"That was a real boneheaded move, Neal." Peter scolded as he drove. "Do you realize what could have happened?"

Neal remained slumped against the door, staring out the window. He knew he was in deep trouble, and he knew he deserved to be. He knew he came close to being killed that day, very close.

Peter parked in front of June's and they got out and walked inside, June greeted them just inside the door.

"Hello Peter, I didn't know…" She stopped talking when she saw the angry look on Peter's face and the repentant look on Neal's. "What happened?" She asked.

"Neal here decided to go to that art gallery opening that I told him not to go too." Peter said.

"The one on Addison Avenue?" June asked.

"That's the one." Peter said, as him and Neal took off their coats. "It was moved to another building, one that was inside Neal's radius."

"Neal, that was very foolish." June scolded.

"That's only part of it." Peter said. Neal hung his head, he knew June wouldn't like the rest of it.

"What's the rest?" June asked.

"He quit taking his antibiotics a couple days ago." Peter said.

"Neal." June scolded sternly.

"I knew I would be drinking at the gallery." Neal tried to defend his actions. "I didn't want them to interact with the alcohol."

"They did anyway." Peter said. "Made Neal so out of it that he didn't even know two men tried to kill him."

"What?" June asked, in horror.

"Two men tried to kill him." Peter said. "If another man hadn't interfered, they would have succeeded."

"Neal Caffrey." June said, her voice still stern. "Go to your room, we will be up in a minute."

"June I….." Neal started, but the older woman held out a hand and stopped him.

"Now, young man." She said.

Neal nodded, then climbed the stairs slowly. He had never seen June this angry with him before.

/

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A few minutes later, Neal was sitting at the dinning table, when the door opened and Peter and June walked in. Both still looked angry. They walked over and sat at the table with the younger man.

"What you did was unacceptable." Peter said. "It could have ended very badly."

"I know." Neal sighed.

"I checked the medicine bottle." June said. "The pills were missing, where are they?"

"I took them out and threw them away." Neal said softly.

"So I would think you had been taking them?"

"Yes."

"June and me discussed your punishment." Peter said. "We both agree that you have yourself a very hard spanking."

Neal bit his lower lip, but kept quite. He knew he had earned it, he knew what he did was wrong. And a part of him was glad that they were angry over his actions, glad that he had people in his life who cared enough about him not to let him get way with pulling dangerous stunts. But he so did not want a spanking.

"I am pretty sure some of those paintings at the gallery were stolen." Peter said. "And you knew that Marcus was being watched by the FBI, among others. If they would have raided that place, you would have went back to prison. You also knew that it was possible some of your old enemies would be there, and that something like this could have happened."

"And you heard what the doctor said about taking all of your medicine." June said. "And about alcohol. I know you stopped taking it because you knew you would be drinking, and that's good. But you had no way of knowing how long the medicine stayed your system, so you couldn't have known weather it was safe to drink or not."

"I know." Neal said, softly. "I'm sorry guys, I know I screwed up." He stared at the table top.

"Screwing up is part of life." Peter said. "And so is paying for your poor choices. After your punishment, your slate is wiped clean."

Neal nodded.

"Neal." June said. "I have never spanked you before, but I am going to this time." Neal's eyes went wider. "I will not allow you to deceive me like you did without punishing you for it. Peter will spank you for disobeying him and going to that opening. And I will spank you for not taking all of your medicine and for drinking without knowing if the medicine was really out of your system or not."

Once again Neal nodded, he knew he deserved it.

"Let's get this over with." Peter said, standing up and removing his belt. Neal and June also stood up. "Back of the sofa." Peter said, walking over to the sofa. Neal followed in confusion. Usually Peter just had him bend over the table.

"The sofa will offer you slightly more modesty." June explained, as they walked over to the back of the sofa. "Both spankings will be given on your bare backside."

Neal stopped walking and his eyes got wide. "June, I….."

"Like I said before, young man." June said, as she gave him a stern look. "You do not have anything that I have not seen before."

"Drop them and bend over." Peter said, doubling the belt in half. He made sure the buckle was tucked securely in his hand. "Now."

Neal gave a pleading look to June, but she only nodded towards the sofa. "Now Neal."

Neal lowered his pants and boxer shorts, then quickly bent over the back of the sofa. Peter stepped behind him and placed a hand on the younger man's back.

Neal closed his eyes and waited for the first lick, which came quickly and harshly. Neal took the first few hard licks in silence, keeping his eyes closed. Since his eyes were shut, he did not see June walk to the kitchen and then come back carrying a thick wooden cutting board.

The strip of doubled leather kept striking Neal's bare butt, and he was soon unable to keep silent. Tears started running down his cheeks as he started crying, the fire in his butt growing more intense.

"Owwww!" Neal yelled out in pain, after Peter landed two hard licks to his tender sit spots.

"S….stop, P…please!" Neal chocked out, after two more landed on his sit spots.

Peter looked at the red bottom, which was filled with darker red strips. He knew Neal was in pain, but he also knew that the younger man had to start thinking things out before he acted. Things could have gone really bad for the young man, and Peter was not about to let him think that that was acceptable.

"We're not done yet, Buddy." Peter said, bringing the belt down hard onto his upper thighs, and bringing a wail of pain from Neal.

"Owwww!" Neal cried out as two more landed on his upper thighs.

"I'm almost done." Peter said, bringing the belt down three more times to the center of Neal's butt.

Neal laid over the back of the sofa and sobbed, while Peter gently rubbed circles on his back. After a few moments, the sobs turned into soft crying and Neal tried to stand up. But Peter's hand on his back stopped him.

"You're not done yet, Neal." Peter said softly. "I punished you for going to the gallery after being told no, for putting yourself in unnecessary danger. Now June is going to punish you for the medicine and drinking. And for deceiving her."

"I…I can't take anymore." Neal whined, his butt and upper thighs were throbbing and he knew he wouldn't be sitting any time soon.

June started to take pity on him, she knew he was hurting. But then thoughts of what could have happen ran trough her mind. He knew he was doing wrong, and he had to pay the price for it. June loved Neal like a son, and she was not going to let him get away with what he did.

"I'm sorry, son." She said, walking behind him as Peter walked a few feet away. "But you earned yourself this paddling, and I'm going to give it to you. I borrowed your cutting board."

Neal gasped slightly as she rested the smooth wood against his sore butt.

"Owww!" Neal cried out as she raised the make shift paddle back then brought it smashing down onto his butt.

The licks were not real hard, no where near as hard as Peter's. But on Neal's already sore and tender butt, they felt real hard. Soon, Neal was sobbing again. June stopped after ten swats and laid the board down on the back of the sofa. Neal stayed bent over, sobbing out his pain.

"It's over, Neal." June said, as she rubbed his back. "All's forgiven, it's over."

Neal's sobbing soon turned back to soft crying and he slowly stood up and pulled his shorts and pants back up, hissing in pain when the fabric made contact with his burning butt and upper thighs.

"I'm sorry." He said softly, looking at the floor and wiping away tears with his hand.

"You're forgiven." June said, hugging the man. Neal leaned forward and returned the hug.

"It's over." Peter said, as he placed a hand on the younger man's shoulder.

"Why don't you lay down and rest." June said. "I am going to call the doctor and see what he wants you to do about the antibiotics."

"I can call." Neal said.

"Nonsense, you need to rest." June said. "Peter, help him get settled."

"Yes Ma'am." Peter replied.

June kissed Neal's cheek and said, "Get some rest, son."

"I will." Neal assured her with a watery smile.

June left, then Peter led the younger man over to the bed and waited while Neal removed his shoes and pants, then he helped him lay on his stomach.

"That really hurt, Peter." Neal said, as Peter carefully covered him with a blanket.

"It was supposed to." The older man replied. "Now get some sleep, or I will send June back up."

"No thank you." Neal replied quickly. "I'm asleep already."

"Bye, kid."

"Bye, Peter."

Peter left the room and left Neal alone. Neal smiled, despite the pain he still felt. He knew Peter and June loved him. It felt good. Then he frowned. He just wished they would find another way of showing it.

/

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TBC I should have the last chapter up sometime tomorrow. Please let me know what you think. I love reviews.