"The suit causing you trouble again?"

"A little… I'll have whatever you're having." Neal handed the menu over to his best friend, Mozzie.

"In that case you'll be having the galette au saumon fume with cream."

"I don't feel like smoked salmon."

Mozzie rolled his eyes, used to his friend's moods. He was seven years older than Neal making for an unorthodox relationship but they were kindred spirits with similar interests, talents and intelligence. They moved in the same circles and their friendship had come about easily.

"Look Neal. Do you want us to do a number on the suit? Time for him to move on?" Mozzie rubbed at his goatee while thinking off into the distance.

"No…not necessary. I can handle the restrictions. We'll just work around it, makes it all the more challenging." Neal perked up a little. "Besides, Mom likes him a lot" and so do I. "I'll have the Coq Au Vin."

-W-C-

"Neal, you go out again last night?" El's query was laced with disappointment.

Neal swallowed his mouthful of Bran Flakes and looked across at his mom before sneaking a sideways peak at Peter. "Yes."

"What time did you go out? We know you got in around half one." El took a sip from her steaming coffee.

"Look Mom, I just went out to get some fresh air. Didn't stay out too long. Didn't go too far. I'm sorry okay." Neal pushed his cereal aside no longer feeling hungry. "Would you like me to clean out the central air ducts today while you're at work? It's been a while since they've been cleaned."

"El asked what time you went out?" Peter ignored Neal's feeble attempt to deflect attention away from his transgression.

"I don't know. Maybe about half past eleven." Neal was frustrated at being treated like a kid and it showed.

Two hours. "Neal. We've told you our expectations. No going out at night without permission, by yourself." Peter spoke firmly. "It's not safe. A grown man shouldn't be walking around by himself at that time of night. You're thirteen years old and probably don't weigh any more than a hundred pounds. Some lowlife could easily drag you into a car and they wouldn't even break a sweat."

Neal had listened to enough. He hopped up from the table, threw his satchel over his shoulder and headed for the front door.

Peter hopped up too, trailing close behind. "Neal?" The kid turned back with a 'what now' look on his face.

"You're grounded for the rest of the week."

"Grounded, Peter?" The boy's tone indicated he could care less.

"That's right Neal. You are not to leave this house unless it's with El or myself. While we are at work, you are to stay here at all times. And we will be calling at various times throughout the day to make sure you haven't absconded. Do you understand?"

Neal looked over at his mom who now stood behind Peter with her arms folded like the Agent's Deputy. "When does this grounding begin?"

"Now, Neal."

"No problem, Peter." Neal casually strolled to the front door, opened it slowly and stepped out.

Peter took a moment to register that the kid had all but given him the finger. It was the Neal Caffrey polite version of telling someone to 'stick it.'

Peter caught up with Neal before he had even reached the footpath. He grabbed the boy around his waist with one arm and hoisted him onto his hip facing outwards before carrying him back to the house like you would an errant toddler. It was at this point that Neal realised his critical error in underestimating the power of a 'step-parent' who now had total discipline approval. Still holding the boy on his hip, Peter removed the khaki satchel from around Neal's shoulder with his free hand, put his foot up on the coffee table, turned Neal around so he was now bent over his knee and proceeded to lay a series of very hard spanks onto the young boy's butt.

If Neal hadn't been in pain, he would have been mortified at being placed in such an undignified position but the short, solid spanking hurt and when Peter stood him up again the only emotion he was willing to display was relief.

"Let's try it again shall we? You're grounded Neal. Please go to your room."

"Yes Peter."

And that's where Neal remained, pretty much for the duration of the week. He used his time productively to concentrate on clandestine pursuits that could be completed from within his room. He only left once, on Sunday afternoon when the family went for a picnic at Central Park. Peter took a frisbee, Neal took a chess board, El took a magazine and they all had a splendid time.