"I'm not going!"

"Yes you are, and don't even think about taking that tone with me, mister."

"What tone? This tone?"

Peter pressed his lips together and directed the young insolent brat with a warning glare. "Go get yourself ready. We are leaving here in ten minutes."

"No."

"Eric…"

"No." Said insolent brat dug his heals in and remained planted on the couch in his sweats, tee shirt and bare feet, clearly not intending to alter from his current course any time soon. "I've had a crappy week – First I got my butt pulverized by the chief executioner, then I was stuck hanging out with a bunch of friggen oldies every day, I had to suffer through another wasted hour with Doctor Phil and all the times in between I've been doing chores till my fingers bled!"

"You done?"

"No. If you think after all that I'm going to turn around and spend my Saturday morning playing happy families, then you are seriously more senile than I gave you credit for."

Peter's plan had backfired. Rather than the kid stewing throughout the week about the looming punishment and displaying some semblance of remorse in the hopes his sentence might be commuted, Eric had done the exact opposite. He'd taken the whole thing as a free pass to act out like a complete brat, figuring if he was going to be punished at the end of the week anyway, he may as well go and make it worth his while. Parenting a pre-pubescent sure as hell had a steep learning curve! Peter glanced over his shoulder at Elizabeth, who was sitting at the table helping Scottie with his kindy show-and-tell project, but all she could offer was a sympathetic half smile. He turned back to the boy and pointed towards the stairs, "Go to your room."

Not, 'Go to your room and come back as soon as you're ready,' just, 'Go to your room.' Eric became suddenly cautious, "Why?"

"You and I are going to have a long overdue discussion."

"Whatever." Eric pushed up from the couch as casually as he could without appearing panicked. "I'll get ready. What do I care if my morning sucks as much as the rest of the week? And don't worry - I'll be back down before the designated departure time."

"No."

"No? Yes? No? For crying out loud, make up your mind Peter."

Peter stepped forward but Eric was expecting a reaction and he jumped out of arm's reach and made a dash for the stairs. He bolted up three at a time and darted into his room, hoping like hell he could get dressed and be back downstairs before Peter decided to come up. He pulled open his top drawer and barely had his hands on his shirt when he heard his bedroom door click closed behind him. He didn't need to turn around to see it was Peter, but he did anyway.

"I'm getting dressed, do you mind."

"You can get dressed after," Peter strolled across the room and planted his butt on Eric's bed. He pointed to an invisible spot at his feet. "Right now, we have to talk."

What a shock. "Look, I'm sorry I acted up downstairs. You know I was just going on like I was cause I was frustrated. Hell, you'd be frustrated too if you'd had the week I'd had."

Peter's expression took on one of disbelief. "If I'd had the week you'd had? Not that I would ever have the week you have, because I wouldn't have made the decision to steal the money in the first place! But even if I had, I still wouldn't go on with the shameful display of disrespect that you've carried on with. Now, get your butt over here." The final statement was spoken in such an authoritive tone that Eric found himself moving to comply without hesitation. As soon as he was within reach, Peter took the boy's hands in his, and because he was sitting down, they were practically at eye to eye. "First of all, every week when we go to see your father, I have to go fifty rounds with you just to get you out the door. That's going to stop right now. We go every Saturday morning so stop acting all shocked and surprised when I tell you to get ready."

"Why should I have to go? I didn't do the crime but I'm being made to serve time every week just like one of the other inept inmates."

"You go because Neal is your dad and he has a right to see you."

"And I don't have a right to decide not to see him?"

"No."

"Well doesn't that just suit everyone just fine! Everyone gets everything they want unless your name is Eric Hunter." He twisted his arm to check the time but Peter manoeuvred his hand to cover it up.

"Stop feeling sorry for yourself. Sometimes in life you have to do things you don't want to do. Not everything is going to be baseball and popcorn, Eric."

"Is that right? And here I thought there wasn't any more to life."

Peter didn't respond to the sarcasm and allowed the boy to continue.

"So what, you expect me to just go along happily and listen to him lecture me on right and wrong? I had to listen to it from Head Mack, you, Elizabeth, Doctor Patrick talked to me about my behaviour, even June made sure she got her two cents worth in…and now I have to go along and pay attention to dear old Dad scolding me on my poor choice of extra curricular activities. And I know he will cause I'm sure you've already told him that his son is a thief and a poor one at that, and no doubt he's got some key phrases prepared up his sleeve. Honestly," Eric shook his head as he continued to work himself up, "I can't for the life of me work out how he has the nerve to sit there and act all high and mighty after what he's done."

Peter took a moment to respond. He'd made a promise to Neal that he wouldn't tell the boy but this charade had gone on long enough. "Why do you think your dad is in prison?"

"Because he's a brainless, half-baked loser -" Eric startled as the swat connected hard with his rear. He tried to jump back but Peter still retained a hold of his left arm.

"Don't you ever talk about Neal like that again," Peter's finger was practically touching the end of the kid's nose. "Neal is a good man…and he's my friend. Any disrespect towards him will be dealt with the same severity as disrespect shown towards Elizabeth. Am I clear?"

Eric nodded.

"Excuse me?" Peter held a cupped hand up to his ear.

"Yes, sir."

"Now, listen very carefully to this, because I know you are very good at hearing only what you want to hear…the reason Neal is in prison serving out an eighteen month sentence is because he has strong principles, a good heart and because he cares deeply about you and your mother."

"That's not true!" Eric tried desperately to tug his hand free but Peter held tight. "Neal doesn't give a rat's ass about my mother. What would you know!"

"I know that Neal tried to help her out that night. He understood the consequences of his actions and even though he knew he would be implicated, he did it anyway cause that's the type of man he is."

"He wasn't there to help!"

"How would you know? Did your mom tell you otherwise?"

Eric clamed up. He hadn't spoken to his mom since, and what's more, Peter knew that he hadn't.

"Eric…" Peter softened his voice, "Your dad, he had time to get out, to save his own butt, but he didn't. He went back and that's why he's sitting in prison right now, serving out a misdemeanour felony, and until your mom comes forward and takes sole responsibility, that's the way it's going to stay."

"If that's true then, why didn't he just tell me?"

"It is true, Eric. What reason would I have to lie to you? As for why Neal didn't tell you himself, I guess you would have to ask him, but I'm thinking it would be mostly to do with him wanting to protect you."

"Protect me from what? I don't need protecting."

"Your dad cares a-"

"Would you stop calling him that!"

"Your dad," Peter ignored the request and proceeded, "cares about you a lot, Eric, and he would be prepared to do anything to make things easier for you, even if it resulted in you thinking the worst of him."

"Maybe I think the worst of him because he's never given me one good reason to think otherwise."

"Well…maybe it's time you allowed yourself to see that there are some good reasons out there."

"Whatever," the boy shrugged and tried once more to pull away as he twisted his arm enough to read the time on his watch. "Can I go now?"

"No," Peter stated plainly. "We have two more issue to chat about so don't be thinking this discussion will be over any time soon."

"Oh, wucking funderful…Owwwch!" Eric jumped up and down on the spot, using his free hand to rub at his butt. "What the hell was that for?"

"You know what for."

"What's number two?" Eric feigned excitement, "I can't wait to find out!"

"You living here."

Eric's fake smile dispersed immediately and some of the colour drained from his face. Clearly, he hadn't been expecting the second topic to have anything to do with his living arrangement. "What about it? You and Elizabeth been talking again and decided you've had enough of living with the brat and want to kick me out? And what, I'm supposed to be shocked-"

"Eric," Peter cut in, "Enough."

"Enough alright. I could care less and don't think this is news to me, either. I've heard you both talking."

"Talking?" Peter was genuinely confused. "Me and El? About what?"

"About you not wanting me here and trying to work out how best to get rid of me!"

"I've no idea where you get these absurd ideas from, Eric but I can tell you in all honesty, Elizabeth and I have never talked about getting rid of you."

"You're lying! I've heard you, from the top of the stairs when you've been sitting on the couch, I've seen you stop talking at the park when I get close and one night, when I went to use the bathroom, I heard you both talking in your room about how you didn't want me here."

"No, that's not true. We have never said those words or even thought those words." Peter searched his brain for something the kid may have overheard and taken to mean they didn't want him around. It could have been any one of a number of conversations – they would have only needed to mention his name and Eric would have twisted it in a way that he wanted to hear. "Whatever you think you heard, you misunderstood. Yes, Elizabeth and I have talked lots about you staying here because you give the impression, quite frequently I might add, that you would prefer to be someplace else, that you would be happier with an alternative arrangement. So of course we have discussed if there would be better options for you, but that was only ever with your best interest at heart."

"And of course it wouldn't hurt you guys any if I did pack up and go elsewhere."

Peter inhaled deeply and released a slow, calming breath before continuing. "Yes, Eric, it would hurt Elizabeth and I a good deal. It's my belief that your carryings on about the arrangements here – complaints about the cooking, the routines, school, school work, Elizabeth not being able to do any thing right, Scottie getting on your nerves, the chores you are forced to do – are all attention seeking behaviours and in actual fact, you quite like living here…" Peter held up his hand to stall the boy when he could see he was opening his mouth to contradict the statement… "But, if I'm wrong, which I don't think I am, then I need you to tell me. I need you to be grown up about it and say, 'Peter and Elizabeth, this isn't working out for me, I'd rather be somewhere else.'"

Eric stared into space, unsure what to say. He wasn't even sure what he thought in his head, how was he expected to put it into words, or make any kind of decision.

Peter continued, "If you do decide that you don't want to live here any more, you and I will work it out together until we come up with a place that you're happy with… But Eric, please know this with absolute certainty – Elizabeth and me, despite what you think you've overheard, we don't want you to leave. We both love you being here and even though we know you will probably move out at some point down the track, we don't look forward to that day and you know, it'll break Scott-Allen's heart when it does finally happen. All three of us love you very much."

Eric dropped his gaze to the floor and willed away the tears that were forming rapidly in the corners of his eyes.

"Kiddo," Peter lifted his chin again so he could look him in the eye, "For now, what's your decision?"

What could he say but, "I'll stay...for now."

"And I want you to as well. But as happy as I am to hear that, remember, any time you want things to change, we'll sit down and have a chat, okay?"

Eric nodded. "What's number three?" Like he couldn't guess.

"We need to talk about the stealing."

"Didn't we talk about that already?"

"Yes, we have. So all we need to deal with now is your punishment for the stealing."

"But that's not until tomorrow night," Eric twisted his hand hoping to free it but it was like being caught in a vice.

"It was going to be tomorrow night, but I made an error in judgement."

Eric looked surprised.

"Yes, Eric, even parents make errors. Mine was believing that if I left your punishment till the end of the week, you would use the time to make amends and try and force me to reconsider my decision. Sadly though, it wasn't to be."

"The week's not over yet?" Eric tried.

"No, but the time for waiting is. I'm going to give you your spanking now."

"Well, I don't want it now."

Peter almost laughed, "Do you think you'll be wanting it tomorrow night?"

"I don't care about tomorrow night. I only care about now."

"Well, right now we are dealing with you stealing money from the school, so I'm glad you care."

"This isn't fair," Eric grumbled, accepting he was in a losing battle.

"It won't be fair to anyone if you go getting yourself a juvenile record because you don't know where the line is separating right from wrong."

"Neal knows where that line is and he crossed it lots of times. Can I help it if it's in my genes?"

"My boy," Peter shook his head slightly, "if you aspire to even half the man your father is, you'll be doing well."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means you can keep using your dad all you want as an easy scapegoat, but by doing so, somewhere along the way his moral compass is going to start pointing you in the right direction."

"I have no idea what you are rabbling on about."

"In that case, let's get on with the business at hand."

"Uh, no, you misunderstood. I meant I'm happy to hear you rabbling on."

"I'm going to give you a choice."

"Wow! And here I thought I'd never hear those words come out of your mouth again?"

Peter pursed his lips. "You can either drop your pants and I'll give you your spanking on the bare, or you can keep em up and I'll use the hairbrush."

"I choose option c," Eric darted a glance over his shoulder at the door.

"Well, 'option c' is me removing my belt so I really don't think you want to go there."

Eric gulped audibly. "No, I really don't."

"So which is it?"

There really wasn't going to be an eleventh hour reprieve or the house accidently burning to the ground or even Peter being called out to an emergency fake credit card importing discovery. An unforeseen rescue was highly unlikely. "The brush," he eventually mumbled.

Peter nodded. "Go get me yours."

"Can't I get Elizabeth's?" That way I can grab it from her room and keep running with no intention of ever stopping.

"You can if you want, but I'll be going with you to get it."

"Fine," Eric grouched. "I'll get mine."

"Good choice," Peter watched and waited for the boy to collect his brush from his top drawer.

He stood in front of Peter and handed over the evil instrument. "Is there any chance of a fourth option?"

"There are always more options, but none that you would like any better, trust me. Now over you go." Peter patted his knee and with one final despondent look, Eric leaned forward and fell across his lap. Peter pulled the boy in close against his hip and wrapped an arm securely over his back. He rested the brush against the boy's sweat pants. "Why are you getting this spanking, Eric?"

"Because I stole the money."

"And what did I tell you would happen if you stole again?"

"That I'd get this."

"Are you going to steal again?"

"No."

"I hope not," Peter said as much to himself as to the boy. "Twelve whacks, Eric." Without waiting for an acknowledgement, he lifted his arm and swung. Once, twice, three times. Eric twisted his body hard but it was no contest – he wasn't going anywhere. Peter brought down the hairbrush down another three times, all in quick succession. Eric used his hands to push up on the bed, figuring a new strategy was worth a shot but that didn't seem to get him anywhere either. Peter walloped again, and again and again, and this time, Eric didn't even attempt to break free. He just released all his muscles and flopped forward like a rag doll. In doing so, it was like a green light for all his emotions to come flooding forward and soon after, the tears turned into cries and as Peter brought the brush down a final three times, the cries turned into sobs and he wept his little heart out.

For the longest time, he lay across Peter's lap, sheading tears for so many reasons, only one of which was because of the smarting that continued to radiate from his backside. After a while, Peter lifted him up and pulled him against his chest. Eric rested the side of his head on the top of Peter's broad shoulders while he whimpered away the last of his tears.

When he figured the boy had pulled himself together enough, Peter asked, "Are we good?"

Eric nodded.

"No more stealing?"

Eric shook his head.

"And you want to stay around here, for at least a little while longer?"

More nodding.

"And maybe could say you like some of the cooking Elizabeth puts in front of you, even if it's string beans and broccoli?"

Eric shook his head and Peter chuckled.

"Okay, fair enough. But if it's chocolate cake?"

Eric nodded.

"Okay, sport," Peter patted the boy's back, "We better get ready and get a move on, or Neal will think we're not coming.

Eric lifted his head so he could look Peter in the eye, "Do I have to go?"

Peter gave the boy a mock piercing glare, knowing he was only half serious. "Yes, and the longer you take to get ready, the longer we will stay to make up for being late." He smiled with satisfaction as the boy righted himself and dashed across to the drawers, and then he left the room without needing to say another word.

# # #

"It's good to see you again."

"Mmm."

"How have you been?"

"Fine."

"Did you have a good week?"

"Yeah."

"I forgot to ask you last week, did you like the painting?"

"Uh, yeah, it was really good…thank you."

"You're welcome…Where did you put it?"

"I…hung it on bedroom wall."

"Yeah?" Neal wasn't even remotely convinced. He shrugged, "I thought since you liked boats and all…"

"Yeah, it's a great boat. Scottie likes it too."

Neal swallowed his disappointment and his pride in one giant gulp. "I hear you spent a couple of days with June?"

"Yep."

"What'd you two get up to?"

"Not a lot, listen," Eric glanced over his shoulder to make sure Peter had remained in the designated waiting zone, "Peter told me some stuff…"

"Like?"

"You will probably be getting out of here in six months."

"Hopefully," Neal smiled. "I'm trying to keep my nose clean and out of trouble and with a bit of luck they will reduce my sentence by six months."

"Is this your lead into my lecture regarding my behaviours this week…A cautionary tale and all?"

"No. Should it be?"

Eric shrugged. "It's about this time during our weekly get together that you start in on what I've been doing wrong - I just expected the same today."

"Sorry to disappoint. Do you need me to say something?"

"Of course not."

"Because I would have expected Peter had said everything that was needed to be said."

"He did."

"And I figured from the way you've been squirming on your seat ever since you got here that you've already been dealt an appropriate consequence for your actions?"

Eric blushed and forced himself still. "There was nothing appropriate about it. Peter whacked me at least a couple of dozen times with a hard hairbrush. I could barely stand up afterwards."

Neal didn't react, he merely rested his chin on his hand and smiled knowingly. "You forget, Eric, that I have known Peter for the better part of fifteen years and one of his leading character qualities is fairness."

"There was nothing fair about it, he really did whack me."

"Of that I have no doubt, as I have no doubt you deserved it. But I also trust that Peter doled out what he deemed a fitting retribution for your actions."

"I knew you'd take his side."

"Then why did you even try to get me to take yours?"

"I didn't…" Eric crossed his arms, checked the time on his watch and slumped on his seat. "What do I care what side you're on anyways."

"Eric…" Neal took a leaf out of his mentor's book and softened his tone, "No one is on anyone's side. We're all in this together…You started to ask me about when I hope to get out of here…was there a reason why?"

Eric shrugged and checked his watch once more.

"Eric…Why were you asking?"

"When you get out of here," he inquired in a voice barely above a whisper, "what's going to happen to me?"

"You mean, where will you be living?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I'm hoping that maybe you'll come to live with me."

"And what if I'm happy where I am? I've got lots of my stuff there now."

"That would be okay too, seeing as how I spent just as much time at Peter and El's place as I did at my own. Do you think that's something you'll want to do? Stay with the Burkes?"

"Dunno," Eric shrugged again. "I was only thinking of Scottie. He's only little and he probably wouldn't understand if I wasn't there any more."

"Yeah, I can imagine it would be very difficult for all of them."

"Maybe…" Eric glanced over his shoulder and gave the signal as he pushed to his feet. "Peter wants to have a chat with you. Maybe you and him can discuss more appropriate ways to deal with inappropriate behaviour? I don't see you getting your butt kicked in here for all the stuff you've done."

Neal bit his tongue and instead went with, "It was great seeing you again."

"Yeah," Eric mumbled and once again walked out without broaching the one conversation that neither of them were prepared to initiate…but it was a can of worms that was going to be tipped over sooner or later.