Peter and his young charge sat for a good ten minutes in the Taurus parked outside their Brooklyn home. It was dark out so they could see El walking around inside the softly lit living room. Finally the agent spoke. "I'm going to be talking with your mom for a while. I want you to wait in your room. Give me your phone."
Without question, Neal reached into his satchel and pulled out his Blackberry. He passed it to Peter.
"And the other one." The agent held out his hand and was immediately presented with a similar phone.
"After I've explained the situation to El, I'll be up to continue our discussion."
"Feel free to leave our chat if you …"
"Neal. Let me give you some advice. At this point, it is in your very best interest to say nothing at all. Just nod your head. Try it please."
Neal nodded.
"And if you need to, 'Yes Peter' will be acceptable."
"Yes, Peter."
"Good. See you can learn." Peter opened his door, climbed out and waited impatiently for the young kid to follow. "Now Neal!"
"Yes, Peter."
-W-C-
Peter hung his coat and watched the young boy all but fly up the stairs to avoid any interaction with his mom. El knew from the expression on Peter's face that it hadn't been a good day so she started with a substantial hug and an offer to get them both a coffee. Dinner could wait.
Peter broke the news gently that their fourteen year old son was a major player in an organized criminal gang of juvenile delinquents. He explained that a young woman by the name of Kate Moreau, an acquaintance of Neal's had been arrested and was facing various charges including bond forgery. It appeared as though Neal may have been involved in creating the forgeries but there was no evidence to prove it. Reece Hughes had sat in on Kate's interview and he approved Neal being let off with just a slap on the wrist. Peter confided in El that he suspected Neal had also been involved in the theft of a good portion of the stolen property recovered at the scene although once again there was no proof to back up the claim. And while El displayed many emotions during the debriefing, surprise was not one of them.
-W-C-
Neal threw his hat and jacket onto the floor near his wardrobe and changed into a t-shirt. Suddenly he felt uncharacteristically warm in his dress shirt and tie. He began to pace his bedroom floor, echoing the actions of Peter in the office earlier. The young kid had many emotions flowing through his veins as he mulled over the events of the day.
Peter would be up soon and he had no doubt where that highly anticipated visit would end – across 'father's' knee with his belt connecting with one very sorry backside. The warning had been crystal clear and to date, Peter had never given the boy any indication that he was into bluffing. Neal stopped his pacing and yanked open the antique doors of his wardrobe. Damn. Why don't I own any corduroy pants? He'd have to invest in some later, but for now a pair of jeans would have to do.
-W-C-
Peter left his wife sitting on the sofa to ponder over their conversation and headed up to the third floor. But fifteen minutes later, El found Peter had only made it as far as the second, and the haggard looking agent was leaning heavily against the dresser in the master bedroom.
"You okay, hon?" El walked over and guided Peter to sit with her at the end on the bed.
"To be honest, not really."
El pulled Peter in close for a hug. She noticed he'd changed into some more casual clothes and his hair was wet from where it looked like he'd splashed a lot of water onto his face. "Well you've come to the right place because I have a secret remedy."
"You have? That's quite ingenious seeing as how you're yet to make a diagnosis." El was happy to see Peter's smile return.
"Of course I've made a diagnosis." Peter raised his eyebrows in disbelief and couldn't wait to hear. "For some reason, you don't feel up to punishing Neal," Peter nodded, correct. "But you know he expects it, for sure he deserves it and you feel like you'd be letting us all down if you backed down from a task you consider has become your responsibility...That something like it?"
"In a nut shell!"
El looked proud of herself but then queried, "There's more?"
"Yeah." Peter sighed heavily. "Last time I punished Neal after he stole the paints and ran away, I gave him a spanking but felt that while I made a point, it did very little to discourage any further incidents. So I told him if he got into that type of trouble again, I would use my belt on him."
"I see." El reflected in light of this new information. "You know that's what he's expecting and you feel like it might be detrimental if you don't follow through. And it's not something you really considered a possibility at the time?"
"Yeah, pretty much. I don't know what I was thinking. I knew it was only a matter of time but I didn't think it would be quite so soon, perhaps a little way down the track and we would have to revise the warning. Who knew?"
"I guess we did. If we were honest with ourselves." Peter looked questioningly. "It's called denial Peter."
"Is that what it's called?" Peter smiled again knowing El was spot on. "So what was your remedy?"
El rested her head against her husband's chest to work out an answer while Peter examined the threads on the comforter. Both noticed immediately the two bare feet that appeared on the carpet in front of where they were sitting.
"Mam'ma, it's getting late. Do you want me to put the dinner on?" Neal had been unable to wait it out in his room any longer.
El gave the older man a knowing look and without having to say a word, Peter knew his wife was about to explain her remedy.
El hopped off the bed and stood in front of her young son. "Neal. Peter and I have just been talking about you." Neal smiled at both parents. "And no Neal, it wasn't an especially pleasant conversation."
Neal stopped smiling and began to study the rug on the floor. Why hadn't he waited in his room?
"Look at me, Neal!" The boy's eyes shot up to look directly at his mother while the knots in his stomach twisted ever so tightly.
"You stole some of those items Peter found at the storeroom today. Yes or no Neal?"
Neal pleaded, "Ne vous laissez Peter prendre soin?"
Peter chuckled as he made the translation in his head, 'Can't you just let Peter take care of this?' And then much to the delight of Elizabeth and the displeasure of the young boy, Peter ordered, "Répondre à votre mere."
"Yes, I stole some of those items," was the whispered response.
"Did you have a part in creating the forged bonds?" When Neal looked away, El grabbed his chin and refocused his attention in the correct direction.
"Yes, Mam'ma"
"And it goes without saying that you forged the painting so I guess the question remains, how many others have there been?" Peter was impressed with his wife's interrogation technique. Perhaps if her business didn't work out?
Neal shrugged.
"Neal?" El growled.
"I'm not sure, Mom, honestly."
"Too many to count?"
"Yeah. Something like that."
El and Peter stood facing the junior felon across the bedroom floor while Neal contemplated his parent's next move. Was this going to be the moment Peter unbuckled his belt, ripping it out through the loops and swinging it harshly against his butt and legs? Unlikely. How about this, Peter would kick off his slipper, grab his arm and begin whacking his behind all the way into next year? The slipper was more Peter's style but still, it was unlikely that Peter would be so uncouth to administer a spanking without positioning him carefully across his knee. In any case, Peter wasn't wearing his slippers. Maybe Peter would just grab the waist at the back of his jeans and a chunk of his shirt and toss him out through the second floor window? Neal laughed on the inside at that visual. And in fact, it was probably his preferred option. His mom must have asked him something because suddenly he had his ear caught between her thumb and forefinger and she only ever did that on the rare occasion that he ignored her. He snapped back to reality. "Excuse me, Mam'ma?"
"I said 'bend over.'"
"Huh?"
El quickly became frustrated so she pulled the teenager to the edge of the bed herself and put pressure on his back till his hands automatically reached out to stop himself from falling. His hands came to a rest on the bed and Neal froze as realization hit of the position he found himself in.
"Mom?" Neal looked back just in time to see El pull back her arm and swing her very heavy, very solid wooden hairbrush against his backside.
"Aaarrrraaahhh!" Neal sprung up and spun to face his mother. "No, please. That really hurts, Mom." Neal didn't care if he sounded like a baby.
"Does it? Well I'm not finished yet so turn your butt around again and bend over." El was going to follow this through and she didn't have to think too hard to remind herself why it was necessary.
"Peter?"
Neal hopped that the man standing off to the side watching this unpleasant episode play out would intervene and be the voice of sanity but instead he offered, "I'll go get the dinner ready." And then he disappeared out the door.
Upon seeing the agent abandon him to his mother's wrath, Neal conceded that he would have to succumb to the punishment – something he had managed to avoid his entire life where his mom was concerned. What was his world coming to? Ever so slowly he turned and faced the bed before leaning over and placing his butt in an incredibly vulnerable position. The brush connected with his backside once again and by the third whack, tears were freely flowing from the teenager's eyes. How many more? As it turned out, just seven. El placed the brush down on the bed after the tenth and final whack and Neal joined it, collapsing forward and burying his head into the comforter while he cried out the last of his tears. His mom sat with him rubbing his back until he eventually rolled on his side, ready to talk.
"Baby Seal, no more please. I need an agreement from you tonight that there will be no more stealing, no more forgeries, no more involvement in criminal activities and no more disobeying our directions."
Neal leaned up on his elbow and told his mother truthfully, "Yes Mam'ma. You have my word. It's all over."
El was happy with that response knowing that at this moment in time, Neal truly believed what he was saying.
"Peter is pretty angry with me."
El tossled the top of her son's hair. "No Baby Seal. He's a little bit angry but mostly he's disappointed. He's tried really hard to be a great father and he's pretty much had to jump through hoops to keep you safe and out of trouble. Right now, he's feeling let down."
That comment stung worse than the brush. "I'd prefer it if he was angry with me."
"Well that's just the way it is. You brought it on yourself, you have to live with it." Neal appeared as though he was going to start crying again. "You can always fix it."
"How, Mam'ma?"
"Show him each and every day, that you do know what the right thing is to do, that you do listen and he has made a difference."
"I'm going to try. Don't know how successful I'll be. It's not an easy feat, Mam'ma."
"I know Baby Seal, but one day you'll realise that moms and dads don't expect their children to be perfect. They just expect them to be tucked safely away in their beds each night where they stay until they hop up to greet their parents with a loving kiss the following morning."
Neal understood. He gave his mom a loving kiss. "Okay."
El climbed off the bed. "Come down as soon as you're ready. Peter probably has the dinner on the table."
"Mam'ma?"
"Yes Baby?"
"You positive you couldn't have just let Peter take care of my 'indiscretions' today?"
El stopped on her way to the door. "He was going to use his belt. You sure that's what you would have preferred?" El smiled at her son.
Yes actually. "Peter would have never used his belt and you know it." Neal smiled back confidently.
"If you're so certain, you could always test out your theory."
"I'll be right." Neal stopped smiling.
"Thought so. See you downstairs."
Neal stayed on the bed, rubbing his sore butt long after his mom left the room. Yeah, the jeans were a useless idea. Some corduroy pants would be a fine investment. Just in case.
-W-C-
A week later, Peter, El and their hopefully reformed wayward son sat around the dining table. Peter held out a small black circular device with a blinking red light.
"It's an electronic monitoring anklet. It will tell us where you are at all times. If you remove it an alarm will go off in my phone. If you leave the area I have designated as your radius, an alarm will go off. If…..."
"I get it Peter. It's not rocket science."
"Don't be smart, Neal."
"Yes Mam'ma. Excuse me Peter. What if I want to go somewhere like the Met and it's not in my radius?"
"Then you ring me and ask and I'll either approve it or tell you it'll have to wait until El or I can go with you."
"And what if I go anyway."
Peter knew Neal was fishing for the bottom line. He needed all the cards on the table so he could weigh up his standing on the matter. "If you break your radius, I'll suspect you are up to no good and I'll collect you from wherever you are, bring you back here and you'll get a spanking."
"Mam'ma!" Neal looked over at El for support.
"It's fair Neal. Things could be a whole lot worse right now and you know it. You're so lucky everything turned out the way it did."
"Correct me if I'm wrong, but wasn't I already punished for his a week again?" Neal gave his mom a very pointed look.
"Neal," Peter's turn to answer. "This isn't a punishment. This is going to help you. I know that Kate wasn't the end of the line and you're only a child," Neal wanted to hit Peter for making that statement but he was too much of a gentleman, "and sometimes kids can't always think things through clearly." Enough with the child references. "If we know where you've been and what you're up to more accurately, we can use that to help you. In the end, it's going to lead to you having a lot of security. You'll find yourself stopping yourself because you know you'll be found out. It'll be good for us, but even better for you."
-W-C-
"What a load of crap!" Mozzie couldn't believe his ears.
Neal sat with his closet friend on the park bench trying to shake the annoying anklet off his leg.
Moz continued with his disapproval of the monitoring device. "I can't believe it man. Is that thing even legal. Can't you go to the department of justice and say, look, help?"
"I think he got it from the department of justice."
"Oh."
"I'm in a lot of trouble, Moz."
"The suit?"
"No. Well yeah it's all part of the bigger picture. I called the creep last night and told him it was over."
"And what did he say."
"He said it wasn't over by a long shot. And then he became very intimidating. He's a bit more unstable without Kate around and I've got to admit, I'm just a little bit nervous because I won't be able to do what he's asking," Neal lifted his leg to indicate the problem, "and sooner or later he's going to make good on his threats. I'm on a leash now so I can't do anything to help get him off my back."
"Can't you just do it anyway and tell the suit you didn't hear the alarm from your tracker. It is NY City after all. It's not beyond the realm of possibility that you'd miss hearing an alarm."
"True enough. Probably would work once, not twice and I need more opportunities than that. Any luck in working out a way to get this thing off me?" Neal lifted his leg indicating his ankle jewelry.
"No man. It's impossible." Neal looked deflated. "Can't you just tell the suit? Maybe he could help."
"No Moz I can't. We'll just have to work something else out."
-W-C-
Neal heard his phone go off in his satchel and pulled it out to retrieve the message.
'Kate 18mths Moreton Juvie Cntr Upstate'
Neal returned his phone and marched angrily over to stand in front of Peter's desk. He didn't say anything. Just glared.
Eventually Peter looked up from the file he had been reading. "What?"
"It's not Kate's fault, Peter." Neal's statement was laced with resentment.
"What's not Kate's fault, Neal?" Peter closed the folder he'd been studying and leaned back in his chair.
"Kate's been sent upstate to a Detention Centre and it's not even her fault. Can't you get anything right, Agent Burke?" Neal was barely in control of his anger.
Peter stood up behind his desk. He quickly became annoyed with the tone and the accusations being thrown across his desk. "Whose fault is it then Neal? The guy who picked you up the day you stole my notebook out of my car? The guy you met at the Tea Room and who sent you home with a black eye? The guy who keeps calling you and putting fear in your eyes?" Peter stood with his hands on his hips, daring the young boy to deny it. "Tell me I'm wrong Neal."
"Piss off Peter!" And with that, Neal stormed out of the office, down the stairs across the bullpen and didn't bother waiting for the lift. He took the 21 flights of stairs all the way to the lobby.
Peter watched out his window to see the direction the young boy would take. Not that he needed to, the tracker would give him an exact location. Within minutes, he saw a familiar figure head out into the middle of the plaza. He must have bolted down the stairs to make it to the ground level so quickly. Neal also knew that Peter would be watching so he turned around and gave Agent Burke the finger. It was so unlike Neal that Peter laughed knowing that the boy couldn't see him that well. Neal sat on the wall of the fountain that was centered in the middle of the Plaza and waited for the agent to make the next move.
Almost two hours later, the boy hadn't budged from his spot although he was now lying on the wall of the fountain, with one arm loosely dangling on each side while he gazed up to the darkening sky. Eventually, a shadow appeared blocking off the last remaining rays of sunlight and announced, "You ready to go home."
Neal studied the man, noticing he was carrying a briefcase, satchel, a small coat and hat. The boy stood with difficulty, he'd been lying on the hard brick wall for way too long and found himself, due to the additional height of the fountain wall, face to face with Peter.
Peter didn't say anything so Neal began, "So I suppose I'm going to be punished when we get home?" When he didn't get an answer he asked, "You're not into that whole soap thing are you?"
"What soap thing?" The older man looked confused.
"No never mind." Neal replied way too quickly. "Peter… I'm sorry I got angry with you upstairs earlier. I didn't mean it and what I said was wrong."
"And?" The agent raised his eyebrows hoping for more.
"And I'm sorry I gave you the finger."
"Thank you, Neal." Peter put the hat on the young boy's head and wrapped the coat around his shoulders. "You know, giving someone the finger is really very uncivilized, I was surprise you would consider using such an obscene gesture. I would have thought it'd be too crude for someone like yourself." The boy cringed. Peter was right. Again. "Imagine if your mom saw you doing that."
"We won't be telling her will we, Peter?" Neal's voice sounded slightly panicked.
"Not this time." Peter bent slightly, picked Neal up and began to carry him over his shoulder. The kid grabbed his hat before it dropped to the ground.
"Peter." Neal spoke the best he could while being carried towards the car.
"Yeah, Buddy." The agent for his part had no issue with managing his load of one young teenage boy on one shoulder and a briefcase and satchel over the other.
"I didn't run off you know. I stopped at the edge of the plaza and the plaza is technically part of the federal building."
"Yeah, I know." He smiled happily appreciating the face that the kid was making a huge effort to turn a corner, and Peter gave him credit for trying his best under circumstances that would be far from easy for even the strongest man.