Neal sneaked a peak at his cards – a straight flush. "I'll see your twenty and raise you two."

"Minimum is five, small fry." The bigger kid's two friends hovering over the park table scoffed at the incompetence of their easy prey.

"Okay then, I guess I'll raise you five." Neal threw a five into his upturned hat which was been used to hold the pot. An earlier gust of wind had led to the innovative use for his precious fedora.

"I'll see your pathetic little five and raise you a hundred."

"One hundred?"

"Yeah, you're in the big league now pip squeak. Either put up or back out. But do it fast cause I haven't got all day."

"Fine. I'll meet your hundred." The older teenagers couldn't contain their arrogance at watching the young boy deposit a hundred dollar bill into the hat. "Let's see what you got Toby."

"It's Tobaaay." The bad ass punk all but spat in Neal's face. 'Tobaaay' turned over a pair of jacks and a pair of sevens.

Neal rolled his eyes. Loser. "I'm pretty sure my straight flush beats your two pair, Tobaaay." Neal turned over his hand with great satisfaction. The trio of street punks groaned and cursed at the sight of Neal's winning hand.

The young boy was about to reach for his winnings when, "What the hell!" A feral cat ran across the park table and through the middle of his poker game. This offensive invasion was closely followed by a stumpy beagle which took a simpler path under the table. Neal followed the trail the animals were taking with his eyes and connected very quickly that while the scrawny looking cat possibly had more sense than to run across a NY City road, the well groomed, more-than-likely apartment bound dog with the ornate collar and striking lead, had not much of a chance against the endless stream of yellow taxis. Neal looked back to check for a possible owner of this obviously much loved pet and spotted her immediately. An older lady, carefully dressed in smart clothes and high heels was at a half jog, holding her hand in the air calling out, "Bugsy!"

Neal sprung up from his seat causing his winning hand to fly across the table and raced to rescue the silly animal. He managed successfully to grab the lead just as the beagle was a few short feet away from running into the traffic. He bundled up the prized animal and took him back to his grateful owner. "Thank you so kindly my dear boy. I don't know what go into the little scoundrel. He's usually so well-behaved."

"No problem at all ma'am." Neal began to move back to the table but could quite plainly see that his older opponents had cleared off and he didn't need to look to see that they would have surely taken the winnings with them.

The young kid stood holding the empty hat that had been used to hold the money. What a surprise. He looked around to try and spot his cowardly adversaries but the only life close by was the older lady who had joined him at the table. "Oh no, dear. They've taken all the money?"

Neal began to collect his sweater from the ground, his playing cards and his khaki satchel. "It's okay. It'll be alright."

June didn't doubt it but there was something about the child's voice that hit a nerve with the older lady. "It's getting late. Why don't you come back to my place and join me for dinner."

"Well, you live nearby?" Neal put his oversized fedora on and the sweetest smile June had ever seen.

"Not far."

-W-C-

The young boy sat politely at the table, his hands in his lap and waited patiently to be told to serve himself. He sensibly served a moderate size portion of ravioli onto his plate before June insisted he would need more for a growing boy like himself. The child ate graciously throughout dinner, using the cutlery correctly, keeping his elbows off the table and even used the napkin to careful wipe his face upon polishing off all the food on his plate. Someone, somewhere had taught this child very good manners and he had competent social skills that June thought were rare for such a young person.

June silently observed the young man as they chatted throughout dinner. He wasn't dressed like a street kid. For sure he needed a shower and the clothes appeared to have been worn for a number of days straight. But the button down shirt and casual pants were classy and unspoiled and his shoes were polished and free from the scuff marks and damage indicative of a well-worn shoe.

The kind widow was able to gather through their dinner conversation that the child lived in Brooklyn, his mother was recently engaged to an FBI Agent and that he was in the park because he'd had a little disagreement with the folks. June did not want to interrogate so she had no idea what the disagreement had been about, how long he had been on the street or why he didn't want to go home. She could gather that Neal cared for both his mother and her fiancé and they came across as being genuinely good parents.

"This is a magnificent home, June. Do you live here alone?"

"I do now, Neal. A few years ago my Byron passed on but I have so many special memories here, I'm unwilling to move into a smaller place."

"That's understandable." Neal packed up his place setting and began to make a move. "Thank you for the meal, June. Your ravioli really hit the spot."

"Thank you young man but my housekeeper made the dish. I'll let her know how much you approved." June hopped up from her chair. "How about I show you around?"

Not wanting to miss an opportunity to see more of this remarkable home, Neal jumped at the chance. "That would be great."

Neal was in raptures over the splendid paintings and exquisite ornaments throughout the house. Or was it a mansion. Neal didn't know the dimensions for a home to be officially recognized as mansion but he was sure it was close enough. He immediately fell in love with the guest room on the top floor, possibly due to the impressive patio with a ten million dollar view of Manhattan. June sat at the little patio table while the young boy leaned against the rendered barrier gazing out at the setting sun leaving an orange tinge on the buildings below. "Awesome."

"Young man." June drew Neal's attention to the table and he came and sat across from the older lady. "I'm going to give you my number in case you would like to call. I'm hoping you will come back and join me again for dinner, perhaps lunch or even a simple game of cards." June handed Neal a beautifully embossed card with the name June Bowen and a phone number. "Would you like to copy your name and number down so I can call you too?" June placed a blank card and pen onto the patio table in front of the young boy. Neal hoped it wasn't a trick but he felt only good vibes about this woman so he wrote down Neal Caffrey and his home number and passed it to June. "Well Neal Caffrey, I'll just place this in my address book along side my other friends."

Neal couldn't help but ask, "Aren't you going to use it to contact my parents?"

"No. Why is that what you'd like me to do?" The young boy shrugged and cast his eyes down to the tiled surface of the patio. "Young man, I've lived a long time and I am a good judge of character so what I tell you can pretty much take to the bank." June reached around and placed a gentle hand on his back, causing Neal to look up at the caring woman. "I'm certain there are two very loving people out there missing someone terribly."

"I think I'd like to go home now." Tears had begun to form in the young boy's eyes. "Would you mind giving them a call for me please, June."

-W-C-

When his Mom walked through June's door, Neal wrapped his arms tightly around her and rested his head against her chest for the longest time. "I'm sorry, Mam'ma."

El held her son close and scolded, "Don't ever do that again, Baby Seal."

Peter also received a lasting hug and an apology, "I'm sorry for saying those things to you, Peter."

"It's okay, Buddy. We're just so grateful you're safe and well."

After the initial hugs and kisses and the mandatory physically inspection to make sure he was still in possession of all his arms and legs, Neal slipped away from the three adults and curled up on the rug beside the fire place. He must have fallen asleep because he didn't remember being carried to the car or the drive home but before he knew it, he was waking up as the Taurus pulled up in front of his Brooklyn address. Neal entered the house and headed straight for his room desperately looking forward to a hot shower and keen to pull on some soft, warm pajamas. He knew he was about to face the music for his three days off the reservation, and the rest. Peter was so damn persistent and consistent there was no doubt in the kid's mind about his impending fate, but for sure he could be afforded a few moments to pamper himself before the unpleasant business was taken care of.

-W-C-

Peter walked across the length of the third floor bedroom and sat down on Neal's bed. Peter mused that there'd be no adult magazines hidden under this teenager's mattress. Needing a moment to mentally prepare himself, he reached over and took a leather bound book off the bedside table. 'David Copperfield'. He opened up the front cover and was surprised to see an inscription that read, 'You're the real deal, Neal. Kate.' Peter raised his eyebrows. Not what he expected, but when was it ever with Neal Caffrey? He began to put the book back when he noticed a book mark. Flipping to the marked page, the agent was surprised to find a fairly recent photo of young Neal sitting with a beautiful brunette on a park bench. The girl was older than Neal, perhaps seventeen or eighteen. They had their arms around each other and were playing up to the camera. The photo was marking a page in the book that began, 'I hope that real love and truth are stronger in the end than any evil or misfortune in the world.' Peter replaced the photo and returned the book, suspecting he would have to reassess his earlier assumptions regarding an adult magazine under the mattress after all.

He looked over and could only see the top of the young kids head leaning against the base of the bed. Taking a deep breath he spoke softly, "Come here, please."

Neal made a heavy sigh and hopped up off the floor. He stretched out his legs and then dragged his feet the short distance to where Peter was sitting. He waited for a moment before daring to ask, "Are you going to spank me?"

"Yes, Neal. I'm going to spank you." Peter gently took Neal's arm and carefully guided him across his lap. He pulled him in close and then tucked an arm around his waist holding him firm. "Tell me why I'm going to spank you, Neal."

"Because we couldn't come to an agreement on the 'no spanking amendment'?"

Peter rolled his eyes. "Try again. We'll stay here till you remember."

There was a long stretch of silence. "Oh alright Peter!" Neal spoke with frustration knowing that he'd lost this battle. "I stole, I disobeyed, I ran away! Happy?"

"No Neal. I'm not happy." Peter lifted Neal back off his lap and sat him on the bed beside him. "I'm not happy Neal, and neither is El. Do you want to know how we feel?"

Neal shrugged. He didn't really want to know because he already knew.

"We feel, disappointed. Disappointed you stole even when you didn't need to. We feel frustrated. Frustrated because we have a very talented, very smart boy who seems intent on ruining his future before it even has a chance. But well beyond that Neal, we felt scared. More frightened than we'd ever been. You're mom never stopped crying last night. We were both so scared. Scared because, well I know what happens out there on the street. I see evidence of it everyday and guess what? No one ever thinks the bad stuff will happen to them. Yes Neal, we don't feel happy at all. Disappointed, frustrated, scared and many more feelings that are churning around inside of us. And happy isn't one of them."

Neal looked down at the floor unable to face Peter. He knew he was right of course. It was just going to take a long time to admit it out loud. Longer than one lecture from a concerned almost father and one uncomfortable spanking would take.

"Do you understand, Neal?"

"Yes, Peter."

Peter gently lifted Neal back over his lap and positioned him as before. He didn't waste any time administering the spanking. Lifting his arm high, he brought it down swiftly onto the young boy's pajama-clad backside. Neal wriggled uncomfortably but didn't yell out although Peter could tell he was crying softly. After a couple dozen very hard solid smacks Peter stopped the spanking and rubbed the young boy's back until his breathing settled. He stood Neal up and put a hand on his shoulder. "Please don't ever do that again, Neal."

Peter would have liked to get some kind of agreement in response to his statement, even if it was false but instead all he got was a half smile through a few stray tears that Neal hadn't managed to wipe away with his shirt.

"Listen to me Neal." Peter lifted the young boy's chin so he was able to look him in the eye. "If you run away again, or I catch you stealing or anything else illegal, I am going to spank you and…I am going to use my belt."

Surely not? Neal's face paled and he stood in stunned silence.

"Am I clear Neal?"

If his stinging butt wasn't enough then the promise of a more severe consequence certainly was. Time to seriously consider an exit strategy."Yes, Peter."

"Okay then. Goodnight, Buddy." Peter stood up and kissed the boy on his head before heading to the door.

As Peter was leaving the room he glanced again at the interesting little book on the beside table. ' . . . Yes. He is quite a good fellow - nobody's enemy but his own.'