Peter has grown to be an emotionally observant individual when it comes to Neal. This is his boy, and he's seen him raw and open. (or a sequel to Response Time. Contains references to spanking.)

Peter tries to will himself up. To go home, to El and Satchmo, to peace and order, but he fails to rise, his hand glued to this warm lump of chaos snoozing the evening away. (or a sequel of sorts to This is Not a Test. Contains references to spanking)

Neal has never found the temptations in life so easy to resist. [ or a sequel to The Retest. This story contains the spanking of an adult.]

It's true, in a lot of ways. They are odd birds. Not everyone goes around questioning dogs about the heinous acts of their spouse, nor do they go around adopting ailing conmen as their surrogate children. [Or, Neal is sad and sick. Peter and El take care of him.]

That's not the threat he was going for, but it's one step closer. His feet stay on the desk as he crosses one foot over the other, the challenge in his eyes as he looks at Peter unwavering. [Or, this story contains the spanking of an adult and is the sequel to The Test. Godspeed, gentle readers]

Neal shudders at the trauma of the memory, sticks his finger to his teeth and feels to make sure they are still gapless and straight. He needs to smile for Peter to make sure the man knows, because Neal can't handle another rejection. [Or a sequel to Of Tummies and Such. Contains spanking, so please skip if that's not your thing]

After the events of a little fic called Ogre, Neal goes home with Peter. Discussions of spanking ensue. [Please don't read if that's not your thing]

The hold of Peter's stare is tenacious, and it's all Neal can do not to look away, not to look at his feet and shift like a small boy with too many regrets, because his eyes are watering again and it's not from coughing and he doesn't want Peter to see. [Or, a short fic inspired by 4x11]

"Handler's Day?" Peter feels clueless, as always. Handlers don't have a day. Handlers have a perpetual pain in the ass. And if some Sunday in June somehow became a Handler's Day, that's news to him – oh. Wait.

This fic totes contains the spanking of an adult Neal by a Peter who started out the morning by accidentally stepping on Satchmo's tail (poor puppy.) You've been warned. In fact, I'm just making that the summary.

"Rule number one," she replies, sticking her index finger up in the air. Peter grins. Neal blinks. "Rule number one." Peter nods. "What is it, Neal?" "Uh..." They simply stare, both at a loss for words, as he quickly references his rule sheet. "Listen to El."

It's a leash, and Peter's a net. The anklet keeps him tethered, Peter catches him when the tether breaks either in function or in theory. [Or, a Christmas fic.]

Mary knelt down, her nightgown long and flowing and tangible. Dean reached forward with numb fingers and gripped the hem of it, said, "M-Mom? Mama?" in a voice that didn't sound like his own. - Alternate Ending to Season One's "Home."

Neal is caught somewhere between an indignant grown man and a near-contrite six-year-old. Wild cats must exist somewhere on the same plane.

And there's something there, in those eyes, in that frown on the young man's face that speaks of Thanksgivings with nothing to be thankful for, something that causes Peter to reach down and put a hand on the kid's head, because who needs duplicity when you have alcohol?

If he were a kid person, Elizabeth thinks, as she has thought before, this would be his kid.

It is only days later – four, to be exact – that Severus feels a twinge of something in his gut. He's carefully bottling potions when it hits, the desire for mist against his skin, dark ryegrass beneath his feet. A small boy with green eyes standing at his toes. [Sequel to What it Is.]

Neal remembers thinking he could feel it, like a shadow, that bullet rushing by his ear. [Or, a story in which Peter puts Neal in time out.]

It is not a day for children, but Severus knows that he will come. The boy is always here on lonely days.