Peter let out an irritated groan when the ringing phone woke him from a deep sleep. He rolled over and grabbed the receiver and mumbled something unrecognizable into it. Then he sat up and listened to the caller, fully awake now. After a couple minutes, he hung up and got out of bed.

"What's wrong?" Elizabeth asked with a yawn, as she watched her husband getting dressed.

"Neal's tracker was cut." He said, sitting on the bed and putting on his shoes and socks.

"When?"

"About ten minutes ago."

"Peter, you know Neal wouldn't run."

"I know." Peter said. "Something's wrong."

Peter kissed his wife and hurried out of the room and out of the house. "What have you gotten yourself into now, Neal?" He muttered. He had a gut feeling that it had something to do with the stolen painting. "He never listens." Peter grumbled, as he drove. "Never listens."

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Neal woke up to find himself laying on a concrete floor, he wasn't tied up. His ankle tracker was gone. He knew that Rendell wouldn't have been dumb enough to cut the tracker in his home, or wherever they currently where. Which meant that Peter had no idea where he was.

He kept his eyes shut and listened. He heard Rendell and the woman with the great left hook whispering close by. But he couldn't make out what they were saying. He didn't hear anyone else.

Neal slowly opened his eyes, and was not able to stop the moan as the bright light hit his eyes. He noticed that they were in what looked like an empty warehouse.

"Morning sleeping beauty." Rendell said, as him and the woman walked over. She was now wearing jeans and a tee shirt.

"You look better in the maid's outfit." Neal smiled, as he stood up.

"Can I hit him again?" She asked.

"Maybe later." Rendell said. "Stacy here is an expert fighter." He said, looking at Neal. "I am putting her in charge of making sure you do as you are told."

"Wished I had you for a babysitter when I was kid." Neal said, giving her a charming smile.

"Can it, Caffrey." Rendell said.

"What's this about?" Neal asked. "If I'm working for you, I need to know what it is."

"Stacy here just got out of prison, been there for four years." Rendell said.

"I know the feeling." Neal winced.

"Her cell mate, who met with a tragic death just days before Stacy's release, told her the whereabouts of Monet's Fateful Friend painting."

Neal let out a low whistle and said "That's worth a pretty good chunk of change."

"In the neighborhood of two million dollars." Stacy said.

"I really like that neighborhood." Neal said. "But what does Townsend's painting have to do with it?"

"Ten years ago, the Townsend painting was stolen by a second rate forger. He was caught with fifty forgeries of the painting. He was believed to have had the Monet in his possession, but it was never recovered."

"You think he covered the Monet with the Townsend painting." Neal said. "But you don't know which one."

"Right. All of the forgeries the police found were destroyed, but several were already sold."

"None of the painting you acquired had the Monet?"

"No."

"Did you destroy the real Townsend?"

"No, figured I'd sell it to."

"Can I have it, as a bonus for helping you find the right painting?"

"Sure. If you can find it."

Neal smiled and said, "Just give me a few days."

"You have three, and Stacy stays with you."

"That's an added bonus." Neal replied.

"Just remember." Stacy said, "I don't think we need you, so I won't have any problems with killing you if you step out of line. Is that clear?"

"Crystal."

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Peter sat in his car, thinking about his next move. He was parked where Neal's tracker was cut; it was a parking lot for a small shopping complex. He was thinking of where to look for the missing ex-con, when he saw said ex-con walking down the sidewalk. A pretty young woman was with him.

Peter was furious as he got out of the car and started to walk over to the younger man, then he stopped when he noticed that the woman was Rendell's maid. Peter stepped in a doorway as they passed.

"What are you up too, Neal?" Peter asked quietly, as he started to follow the two. He knew that Neal didn't switch sides again, he knew that this was a ploy to get the painting back. He just hoped it was a legal ploy. But with Neal, he really doubted it.

Peter followed them to a small café and sat at a table a few feet from them, hiding his face from view with a menu. He could not hear their whispered conversation. He saw Neal excuse himself and head for the men's room, and followed him.

"I figured you'd be where Rendell cut my tracker." Neal said, as Peter walked in. The two men were alone in the bathroom.

"Explain." Peter said, sternly. He knew he wouldn't like the explanation. "And explain about that shiner you've got."

"I know why Rendell wants all the Townsend's paintings." Neal said, not willing to tell Peter how he got the black eye.

"Why?"

"He thinks one of them is covering a Monet."

"And how did you learn this?"

"Rendell told me."

"Why would he do that?"

"Because he wants me to help him steal more paintings."

"Neal!" Peter barked.

"Relax, I'm not really going to steal them."

"How did this happen? I'm pretty sure he didn't just show up at June's and ask for your help."

"Not exactly." Neal said, trying to avoid telling Peter what really happened.

"What happened? Exactly."

"It's a long story, and we don't have time. We need to act fast and…"

Before Neal could finish that sentence, the door burst opened and Stacy came in, aiming a gun at the two men.

"This is the men's room." Neal reminded her.

"And this is a gun, I knew you couldn't be trusted. I was listening outside the door."

"Eavesdropping isn't nice." Neal said.

"Neither is trying to double cross people."

Peter watched the gun as she pointed it at Neal's head, then he made his move. He grabbed Stacy's arm with one hand and grabbed the gun with the other, then jerked the gun from her grasp.

"Nice move." Neal praised.

Then he winced as Stacy slugged Peter hard in the face, Peter staggered backwards. Stacy jumped up and spun around, then kicked Peter in the side of the head. Peter was knocked down onto the floor.

"You disappoint me." Stacy said, standing over the man. "I was hoping for a better fight."

Peter swung his leg out and knocked hers out from under her. She fell to the floor and Peter quickly cuffed her. Then he stood up and pulled the woman up with him.

"Well that explains the black eye." Peter said.

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An hour later, Peter walked into Hughes' office. A white bandage was covering his broken nose.

"This case got shot to hell!" Hughes boomed, angrily. "I had to cut a deal with both of them to keep Caffrey out of prison!"

"I know." Peter said, he was also mad at Neal. "I will deal with him."

"You better! I want Caffrey punished for this stunt!"

"He will be Sir."

"The only good thing about this whole mess is that we were able to recover the Townsend painting." Hughes grumbled. "If we had time to put together a proper sting, we might have been able to have found the Monet also."

"I know." Peter agreed.

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Neal stood in the middle of the squad room looking up into Hughes' office. He could tell that Hughes was really mad, and that he was yelling at Peter. But he couldn't tell what he was saying.

He felt guilty for Peter getting yelled at because of him, it wasn't Peter's fault. Coming to a decision, Neal quickly raced up the stairs and threw Hughes' door open.

"What is it Caffrey?" Hughes snapped.

"Look, Sir." Neal said, getting nervous. Both older men were glaring at him. "Peter told me not to do anything he didn't authorize, I went against his orders. He had nothing to do with this, it was all my fault."

"One more stunt like this, and I will personally escort you back to prison!" Hughes barked. "This is the FBI, we do things by the book!"

Neal nodded, but didn't say anything. There wasn't anything to say. He screwed up, and he knew it. He only wanted to get the painting back, which he did. But he messed everything else up.

"They rolled on each other." Hughes hissed. "But neither will serve over a year because they threatened to press charges against you for breaking and entering."

"I know." Neal said, his voice soft.

"You had better straighten up Caffrey. I don't care how many cases you help solve, I will not tolerate this behavior. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes Sir."

"Dismissed, both of you."

Peter and Neal walked out of the office and Peter closed the door behind them.

"I'm sorry Peter." Neal said.

"Not now, Neal." Peter said, his voice hard. "I have to think about this."

"Ok."

"Go home, I'll see you later."

Neal nodded, and left. His heart was hurting, Peter was really angry.

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A little while later, Neal was sitting on his sofa. The tv was turned on to the Antique Road Show, but Neal was not paying any attention to it. His mind was whirling with the day's events.

He jumped when he heard a loud knock on the door. Neal got up and opened the door to reveal Peter, who looked calmer.

"Hey Peter." Neal said, stepping aside so he could enter.

"Hey Neal."

Peter walked in and sat on the sofa, then motioned for Neal to sit beside him. The two men sat kind of sideways so they were facing each other.

"Explain." Peter said.

"What's to explain?" Neal asked. "I broke the law by breaking into Rendell's house. I messed up."

"Why?"

"You know why."

"I want to hear it from you."

Neal sighed and said, "To get the painting back."

"Why was that so important to you?"

"It's my job, our job."

"Why was this painting so important?"

Neal looked at the floor, refusing to meet Peter's eyes. He knew the real reason, and he knew that Peter knew the real reason. But he wasn't sure if he could say it out loud.

"I want an answer." Peter said, his voice stern.

"Brown loved his wife." Neal said, still looking at the floor. "That painting was their connection."

"Sorta like that wine bottle is your connection to Kate?" Peter's voice was now soft.

"Yeah." Neal looked up and their eyes meet. "I knew how much that painting meant to him, and I know the pain of losing someone."

"That is no excuse to break the law." Peter said, his voice still soft.

"It seemed like it at the time."

"This is big, Neal. This could have sent you back to prison, or gotten you killed. You do not break the law trying to solve a case. And you do not go in a dangerous situation without backup."

"I know, Peter."

"I understand that this case hit close to home for you, I know how much Kate meant to you. You sympathized with Brown, and that's okay. Sometimes being sympathetic helps us do our jobs, and helps keep us human. You have a good heart, Neal. That's one of the things that makes you so good at this."

Peter's voice turned slightly sterner as he continued. "But what you did is inexcusable. I can not let this go with just a lecture, I have to punish you."

"How?" Neal asked, visions of cleaning out storage rooms filling his head. But he knew he deserved to be punished. And he knew that despite Peter's boorish attitude at times, he was a fair man.

"I don't want your status with the FBI tainted, something like this in your jacket can hurt you. So the punishment won't be official. I have talked and lectured, but you just don't seem to listen. So I've decided to let my belt do the talking, see if you'll listen then."

"W…what?" Neal stammered, his eyes growing wide.

"I want you to stand up and bend over the coffee table." Peter said.

"You can't be serious." Neal said, nervously. He couldn't believe that Peter was actually talking about spanking him.

"I am very serious. I can not and will not let you continue to do as you please without any consequences. You have worked way too hard to ruin your life by not following the rules."

"But you can't spank me." Neal said, "I am an adult."

"Look me in the eye and tell me you don't deserve to be punished"

Neal looked him in the eyes and opened his mouth to do just that, but he couldn't. He couldn't lie to Peter, he respected and cared for him too much for that. He knew he deserved it, knew Peter was right.

And being spanked was a whole lot better then ruining his career with the FBI, or being sent back to prison. And he trusted Peter; he knew the man would not hurt him too badly. He knew that Peter would only give him what he deserved.

"What's your decision?" Peter asked.

"Okay." Neal's voice was small and lacked the normal confidence. "I trust you, and I know I deserve to be punished."

Peter stood up and walked to the end of the coffee table, then he removed his belt and doubled it. He made sure the buckle was safely in his hand, so it would not strike Neal.

"Let's get this over with." Peter said.

Neal nodded and slowly stood up, and walked over to Peter. He knew he deserved it, but he really didn't want to be spanked.

"Bend over." Peter said, his voice stern, but Neal didn't move. "Now."

Neal slowly turned and bent over, grasping the sides of the table. He felt Peter's hand on his back, then felt a line of fire across his backside. The pain tore a gasp from him. Peter landed blow after painful blow to his butt, and the pain intensified.

Neal tried to remain silent, but his butt felt as if it were on fire. He soon had tears running done his face.

"Owww!" Neal yelped as one lick landed on his tender sit spot. Three more landed in the same place and he stared crying harder.

Peter heard the cries and knew Neal was in pain, but he also knew that he had make sure Neal learned his lesson.

"Owwww!" Neal yelped again as Peter landed three more hard licks in rapid succession to his sit spot.

Peter removed his hand from Neal's back and stepped away, putting his belt back on. Neal stayed bent over, sobbing. After a few moments, he slowly stood up.

"That really hurt." He said, rubbing his butt.

Peter had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing, despite the serious situation. Neal looked so young standing there, with a tear stained face and rubbing his butt.

"It's a spanking, it's supposed to hurt." Peter reminded him. "You are also supposed to learn from it."

"I did." Neal assured him.

"Good, because I will not hesitate to do it again if need be. You are too good of a man to ruin your life because you refuse to follow the rules."

"You think I'm a good man?" Neal asked, looking at Peter.

"Yes. Why else would I care if you screw up your life? You are talented, intelligent, and have a good heart. You have a very bright future, and I intend on making sure you don't destroy that future."

"Thanks Peter." Neal said, meaning it. He knew he was lucky to have a man like Peter looking out for him.

Peter smiled, then he pulled the younger man into a hug. Neal returned the hug, feeling better then he had in a long time.

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The next morning, Neal woke to the sounds of someone knocking on his door. He sat up, then quickly stood up with a moan as his sore butt made contact to the mattress. He slowly walked to the door, his aching butt making the trip painful.

Neal opened the door to reveal Mozzie.

"Hey Moz."

"Neal." The older man walked into the room, and over to the sofa.

Neal shut the door, then turned and walked over to the sofa, but did not sit down.

"What's wrong with you?" Mozzie asked with concern, when he saw the way Neal was walking. "Are you injured?"

"I'm fine." Neal lied.

"No you are not. What happened?"

"Peter spanked me." Neal mumbled softly, not really wanting Mozzie to know. But knowing that the other man would not give up until Neal told him.

"He what?" Mozzie jumped up, angry. "He hit you?"

"He spanked me." Neal said. "There is a difference."

"That antisocial ruffian! How dare he hit you?"

"Relax Moz, I deserved it."

"What could you have possible done to warrant such treatment?"

Neal explained everything to Mozzie, watching his friend's expressions change. Mozzie's face went from anger, to shock, then back to anger. But Neal suspected that the anger was now directed towards him and not Peter.

"Have you lost you senses?" Mozzie demanded, proving to Neal that he had been right. "Do you know how bad things could have gone? I hope the suite really gave it to you good for that stunt."

"Mozzie." Neal whined. "I thought you were against him spanking me."

"That was before I learned what you did."

Neal sighed, now it two against one. He was really going to have to clean up his act.

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THE END