A/N: So I really don't think I've done as good a job with people staying in character as much but it's here, even though it took a while. So, here you are.

Once Neal went up stairs, I lowered myself down onto the couch behind me. It was then that I noticed that I was shaking slightly.

I had considered spanking Neal in the past, but it had been more like a fantasy. Just a wish that I could take him over my knee and spank all the naughtiness out of him.

I sighed. What had I just done?

I heard the knob turning in the door behind me and immediately rose to my feet and went to the door.

When El came in, I attempted to smile and give her a kiss like normal, but by the way that she pulled away, and instead of saying our usual, "Hey, Hon," she said, "Alright, what did Neal do?"

I sighed again and let my face fall. "He was forging another painting in his apartment," I explained.

"Oh, Peter," she sighed. "And then what happened?"

I laughed dryly and said, "I dragged him here, sat him down, and lectured him. Then I, well, I… spanked him."

She gasped, "Oh Honey. How did he react?"

I laughed again. " How do you expect him to react El" He's an adult and I spanked him as if he were a little kid!"

"Well, did he seem alright afterward?" she asked.

Sighing, I shrugged my shoulders and then said, "He was crying a lot and his bottom sure hurt, but he was talking to me all right and accepted being touched and held by me."

"That's good!" El responded, smiling. "I'm sure he's fine Peter."

I smiled at her and went in for another kiss. "Thanks, Hon," I said. "I better go upstairs and talk to him." It was then that I spotter Neals pants still on the floor. " I better take his pants up to him to," I laughed.

El laughed as well and gave me one last kiss before heading into the kitchen to start dinner.

I picked up Neals pants from the floor and headed up the stairs.

Once I arrived in the bathroom upstairs, I shut the door and looked at myself in the mirror. I had tear tracks on my face from all my crying. I hesitated for a moment before turning around and lowering my boxers so that I could see the damage that Peter had caused in the mirror.

My eyes went wide. My bottom was completely red as were my upper thighs. It was all one uniform, cherry red, except for the tender undercurve which was a darker, maroon red.

I sighed and pulled my boxers back up before turning back around and turning on the water. I cupped my hands beneath it and splashed my face before beginning to rub vigorously at my eyes.

It was then that I heard a knock on the door and Peter's voice asking if he could come in. I quickly turned off the faucet and dried my hands and face before calling out for Peter to come in.

When Peter pushed the door open he was smiling. "Hey, how ya doin' buddy?" he asked.

I smiled back at him and said, "I'm okay. Just a little sore."

I noticed Peter's shoulders relax a little when I said that and his smile widen and in response, my own widened a bit to.

"Good," he said. "El just got home and is starting dinner. It should be ready in about half an hour. I got an old pair of sweats and a T-shirt for you to wear. I thought they might be more comfortable than your suit."

I glanced down at myself and realized that I was wearing a striped green tie on a light pink dress shirt which fell over my boxers, having seemed to have lost my dark blue pants at some point. I then looked back up at Peter with a sheepish little grin and said' "I guess that that would be a bit more comfortable."

He handed me the small stack of clothes and I opened my mouth to ask him where my pants were before he said, "Your pants are in the guest room. You can put the rest of your clothes in there too once you're done changing."

I grinned and thanked him before he squeezed my shoulder and left.

I turned back to the mirror and rinsed my face one last time before getting changed into the sweats and T-shirt that Peter had left me, pausing only for a moment to laugh at the old FBI T-shirt that he had left for me.

Once that was done, I left the bathroom and stopped by the guest room to neatly fold my shirt and tie on top of my pants. I then made my way down the stairs.

I could hear movement in the kitchen so I headed for the door. When I pushed it open, I found El and Peter moving around the kitchen, preparing dinner, or rather, El was preparing dinner and Peter was getting in the way while trying to find something useful for himself to do.

El looked at me and smiled. "Hi Neal, Sweetie. Are you okay?"

I smiled back and nodded my head 'yes'.

She came over to me and gave me a hug and a kiss on the cheek and said, "Why don't you go and sit at the table. Dinner is nearly ready."

I grimaced at the mention of sitting and then Peter spoke up. "El, why doesn't Neal set the table."

She looked at Peter, confused for a moment before realizing what she had just suggested and gasped a little. "Oh," and covered her mouth with her hands guiltily. Peter smiled reassuringly and walked over to a blushing Neal with a stack of three plates and handed them to him.

I mumbled a 'thank you' and headed out of the kitchen and into the dining room to set the table. El brought out a pan of hot lasagna and Peter followed with a bowl of salad and they set it all out. Peter and El took their places across from each other at one end of the table.

I went to my spot next to Peter with much trepidation. I pulled out the chair and found that a big, soft pillow had been placed on the hardwood chair. I smiled and looked up to see that both Peter and El were looking at me with smiles on their faces to. "Sit," El insisted and I did just that, lowering myself gently onto the pillowed seat. It still hurt a bit, but not nearly as bad as I would have imagined sitting on the wood would be.

Dinner began in a comfortable silence, but as we settled down Peter spoke up. "Neal," he asked, "before I… punished you, you told me that your parent's didn't punish you and that they didn't care what you did. What do you mean by that?"

I froze and then I heard El say, "Peter, not during dinner!"

I put my fork down on my plate and quietly reassured El, "It's okay El."

"Are you sure sweetie?"

"Yeah," I smiled a little.

I looked back at Peter and began speaking quietly, "It means exactly what I said Peter. They didn't care what I did."

"So," Peter asked, "You could go outside and go anywhere you wanted, or you could go into your room and play all day."

"Oh, I didn't say that I could do anything I wanted. I just said that they didn't care what I did."

"And what's that supposed to mean!" Peter asked.

"I mean that they would lock me in my room and let me out only to eat meals, if they remembered me anyway."

Peter and El were both looking at me with wide eyes. "If they remembered you?" Peter asked.

"Well, yes, Peter. Sometimes, I wouldn't eat for a day or so because my parents would forget about me."

Then El said, ""Didn't they hear you? You must have tried to get them to pay attention to you."

"Oh, yeah. I would scream until my voice was hoarse and my throat hurt like crazy, but they couldn't hear it. They were too drunk. They only paid attention when they wanted someone to hurt or play with."

"They were alcoholics." Peter wasn't even asking a question, it was a statement.

I nodded my head.

"Did you even have anything in your room to do?" he then asked.

"Oh, yeah. Tons. Read. I had a pretty big room, so the walls had bookshelves and I taught myself to read and thats what I did."

"But, but what about toys?" El asked. "Didn't you ever play?"

"No, I never had any toys. I never west to school either. I learned everything from the books in my room."

That was the end of the conversation but no one seemed to want to continue eating. So, we cleared the table, and El shooed both Peter and I out to the living room so that we could sit and not be in the way while El finished in the kitchen.

Once the boys were gone, I turned back to the sink full of dirty dishes. As I began to wash them, my mind turned back to the conversation that we had over dinner.

How could parents be so cruel to their little boy? Neal seemed so secure in himself that it was hard to believe that the young man had been abused and neglected as a child.

And how could a child have never played with toys before in his life. Every child deserved to have toys and a childhood. But it didn't seem like Neal had ever had one.

Suddenly, so many things about Neal made sense. A childhood was a time for children to learn and make mistakes, but Neal had never had that chance as a child. Never had someone to teach him what was right and wrong. So now that he was, well, semi-free, he was making mistakes, just bigger mistakes than a child would normally make, but he still hasn't had someone who cared for him enough to make sure that he didn't make the same mistakes over and over again. Until now.

As I was finishing drying the last plate, I had an idea.

After being shooed out of the kitchen, Peter and I went and sat down in the living room, after Peter turned on a baseball game. Or rather, Peter sat down while I hovered to the side, dreading the thought of sitting down again.

Peter chuckled when he noticed this and gestured for me to come sit next to him on the couch. I hesitated for a moment longer before going and sitting gingerly next to Peter on the couch. Peter rolled his eyes before taking me gently by the arms and pulling me down so that my head lay on his lap.

I yelped a little in surprise at being pulled down into a half laying position, but I automatically brought my legs up so that I was laying on the couch with my head on Peters lap.

It was strange laying there like that on my side, but at the same time, it was oddly comforting, just laying there, watching a baseball game with Peter. It reminded me of a son and his dad watching a game together, and for a moment, I could almost believe that I was the son and that Peter was my Dad.

Then I heard a clearing of a throat and I looked up to see El, standing beside the coffee table with a soft smile on her face and her hands hidden behind her back.

"Hi," she said.

"Hey, Hon," Peter answered, smiling back.

I smiled up at her as well but I didn't say anything.

Her smile widened and she said, "Hey, Neal. I was just thinking about what you said during dinner and about how everyone deserves to have a toy at one point in their life, so I remembered something that was just sitting downstairs in the basemen in one of our many boxes and I thought that it would be of batter use in your care."

She then pulled something out from behind her back and I stared at it for a moment before I realized what it was and then I jumped up as fast as I could and grabbed the brown, slightly used Teddy Bear from El's hands and clutched it to my chest while I looked at her with a bright, delighted smile and said,"Thank you, thank you, thank you," before turning back around and laying back on the couch with my head still on Peters lap, continueing to clutch the teddy to my chest.

Peter and El both laughed a little at my reaction, but I didn't care. I was just glad to have a Teddy Bear of my own. I had often seen children holding the classic bear in there arms and playing with it and had always wanted one more than anything else and now, I had one. My very own.

El came to Peters side of the couch and said, "Budge up."

He grinned and moved to the side just enough for El to sit between him and the arm of the couch. I whined in the back of my throat and tried to scrunch up so that my head was still in Peters lap. Peter chuckled at me as El sat down and Peter put an arm around her before using his other hand to ease me over so that I lay with my chest and stomach laid flat over Peters lap and my head lay on Els lap. El then picked up the remote and changed the channel to an old movie.

The movie was about ten minutes in before El started playing with my hair and then five more minutes went by before Peter began rubbing my back.

'This feeling of being loved,' I thought, 'was pretty amazing.'

Then my eyes closed and I drifted off to sleep.

As I sat there with Neal laying there half-way on my lap, I realized that Neal was like a son to El and I and that we both loved him with all our hearts.

About half way through the movie, I glanced down at Neal and found that he was asleep. I smiled and said, "El, look. He's asleep."

She looked down at him too and smiled. She then bent down and laid a kiss on top of his soft curls before saying, "We should take him up to bed."

I nodded and El grabbed the remote and turned off the TV while I rolled Neal over on our laps and slipped my arms underneath his knees and shoulders before standing up. Neal made a little noise before going back to sleep, still clutching his new Teddy Bear to his chest and unconsciously snuggling into Peters chest. When I realized just how light he was a became slightly worried. I then shrugged it off. For the moment.

I carried him upstairs to the guest bedroom with El ahead of me. When she got into the room she pulled back the blankets on the bed and I lowered him down onto his back before rolling him onto his side. El pulled the blankets up past his shoulders and tucked him in.

I ran my fingers through the boys hair and said, "Sleep tight, Neal," and then turned back and walked to the door and looking over my shoulder.

I watched as El brushed a strand of Neal's hair off of his face before leaning down and kissing Neal on the forehead and whispering, "Good night, Neal." She then stood up and walked back to me.

We kissed and then one last time back at Neal. "Good night, son," I said quietly and then we closed the door and went to our own bed for the night.

The End