He knew it was coming, especially after the garden gnome comment. If only the pants had had their desired effect. Tag to "Impact". WARNING #1: Minor spoilers. WARNING #2: Spanking of adults.

"Oh Mr. Beeeal…" Eric's heart stopped. It wasn't like he hadn't seen this coming, but he had hoped if he snuck out quietly enough… "May I please see you in the Armory for a few moments?" Eric closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened them, he saw that everyone within hearing distance, including Nell, were giving him looks, their expressions ranging from sympathy to amusement. "Now, Mr. Beal." Nell had warned him of this very thing… "I suggest you take your Bag 'o Pants and put them back on your body before Hetty finds out or else it will be your butt in the incinerator."

Eric turned on his heel and came face to, um, belly button, with Hetty, whose face was showing more annoyance than usual. "Hetty," Eric began casually. A cleared throat signaled that he should stop talking. He followed Hetty's gaze down toward his own legs, now partially visible, thanks to Nell's rough tailoring job. Without another word, Hetty turned around and walked toward the Armory, clearly expecting Eric to follow. He did, knowing nothing good would happen if he didn't.

Hetty held the door open as Eric slinked into the room, head hanging then closed and locked it. Eric watched intently as she punched in the security code on one of the lockers. His heart stopped again. What was she going to do to him?! The armory was full of terrifying-looking objects! Objects of torture! Eric opened his mouth to express his concern, but nothing came out. When Hetty finally turned around, he wasn't sure whether he should be more or less relieved. Again, it wasn't like he hadn't seen this coming, but the paddle in Hetty's hand didn't really help to settle his churning stomach.

"Mr. Beal," Hetty began, "I had hoped that forcing you to wear long pants would have been punishment enough and would have gotten my point across regarding your casual attitude toward me lately. But I can see," she said, pointedly looking at his bare knees, "that I was mistaken."

"Hetty, I'm sorry," Eric said feebly, "I just…"

Hetty held up her hand and Eric stopped talking. "I don't want to hear it, Mr. Beal. You knew you were being punished, and you did something to try to get out of it. So I assure you, that will not happen again. Turn around."

Eric's head dropped in resignation as he obeyed.

"And since you seem to have such an aversion to pants, you may remove them," Hetty said, as if she was offering him a comforting cup of tea. Eric turned around and began to protest, but another hard look silenced him, and he reluctantly obeyed.

Once he was properly positioned over the worktable, Hetty wasted no time expressing her significant displeasure at Eric's flippant attitude, disregard for her property, and attempts to avoid punishment. Eric struggled and suffered as quietly as he could, but as his boxers offered only symbolic protection against the paddle, it wasn't long before he was verbally expressing his pain and his displeasure with the growing heat in his backside.

The paddling went on and on as Hetty made absolutely sure he received her message. Eric slumped against the table when she finally stopped. "Have I made myself clear, Mr. Beal?"

Eric swallowed hard and cleared his throat. "Yes, ma'am," he answered hoarsely.

"Good. Now, about that 'garden gnome' comment," she said as she pulled up the back of his watermelon boxers to expose the backs of Eric's thighs.

"Hetty, no!" Eric protested. "I have sensitive thighs!"

"That's what I'm counting on," Hetty answered as she resumed the spanking, this time on Eric's bare thighs. Eric couldn't help himself, and soon tears streamed down his face. He was positive he would never sit comfortably again.

By the time Hetty finally put the paddle on the table, Eric had dissolved into sobs brought on by the intense heat and pain, but also by the regret he felt that he had ever dared to show even a stitch of disrespect toward the woman who had done so much for him.

When he had finally calmed himself down he pushed himself up off the table and turned to face the one who had just torn into him. "I really am sorry, Hetty. I don't know…"

"I know, Mr. Beal," she cut him off. "I know." She patted his arm gently. She studied his face for a moment, then turned and walked toward the door. "You may put your…shorts back on now. I have some other business to attend to." She opened the door and Eric's heart stopped again. "Miss Jones, please, come in."

Nell walked slowly into the room and gave Eric a worried look as he hurried to fasten his shorts. Eric looked from Nell to Hetty and back again.

"Miss Jones helped you to destroy my property," Hetty explained to Eric.

"But it was my idea," Eric protested.

"How very noble of you, Mr. Beal, but Miss Jones knew what she was doing, and she will face the consequences for her own actions. Now," she said dismissively, "if you'll excuse us."

"Hetty, please," Eric pleaded. A raised eyebrow told him that nothing he could say would save Nell. He nodded and turned toward the door. He glanced back at Nell and gave her a small, sad smile. She returned it and Eric limped out of the room.

With the door closed, Nell found herself alone with an angry Hetty. "Hetty, I swear, I didn't know he was being punished," she said, attempting to defend her actions.

"But you knew I had given him the pants."

Nell hesitated then conceded. "Yes, ma'am." Without being told, Nell turned around and bent herself over the table. The paddling was quick, but effective. Two dozen swats later, Hetty told Nell she was finished. Nell pushed herself up and turned around, her hands moving automatically to her rear end. "Ow," she whispered.

"Have I made my point, Miss Jones?" Hetty asked.

"Yes, ma'am," Nell answered quietly. "I'm sorry."

"Then we will never speak of this again," Hetty answered with a small smile. She turned around and put the paddle back in the armored drawer.

As soon as Nell had retrieved her bag and made it safely to her car, she grabbed her phone, intending to call Eric. She had a missed text message. Meet me at the place. I'm sorry.

Nell settled herself gingerly into the driver's seat and headed across town to the coffee shop she and Eric had once visited after a particularly difficult day. She smiled to herself as she remembered the overstuffed chairs and small fire pits at each table.

Fifteen minutes later, Nell walked into the dimly lit coffee shop and scanned the room. She quickly spotted Eric sitting in the far corner and lowered herself into the comfortably padded chair across the small table from him.

"Are you okay?" Eric asked, concern clearly written on his face.

"I'm fine, Eric. Really. I've had worse," Nell said. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm good," Eric answered with forced bravado. Nell gave him a look. "She is strong!" Eric finally admitted.

Nell laughed, then apologized for laughing, then laughed again. Finally, a grin broke out on Eric's face. "The look on her face when you called her a garden gnome?" Nell said, giggling, "I thought she was going to slap you right then and there!"

Eric sobered a bit, "I don't know what got into me. How could I be so stupid?"

Nell reached across and patted Eric's knee. "I don't know what got into you either," she said with a grin. Eric smiled back and shook his head.

"I'll tell you what, I'm never talking to Hetty again, other than to answer direct questions, and even then…" he stopped. "You would think I would have learned my lesson last time."

"There was a 'last time'?" Nell asked.

Eric blushed. "Actually, there were a couple of 'last times'," he admitted.

"Well, I know about the last time 'last time', I just meant, you've done this before?" Nell said, still grinning.

"You…know?" Eric asked, blushing deeper.

"About what happened after you helped Sam? Of course. Everyone knows about that," Nell laughed.

"Everyone…? Hey, let's get s'mores," Eric said, hoping to change the subject.

"Are you sure you want to play with fire, Mr. Beal?" Nell asked doing her best Hetty impression.

Eric froze and quickly looked around the room, eyes wide with fear. Nell, shocked by her own actions, followed suit. Realizing they were safe, the two friends dissolved into giggles again, and soon they were feasting on coffee and toasted marshmallows.

"So we could probably toast these over your ass, huh?" Nell teased. She was rewarded, predictably, with a marshmallow to the head.