"Elizabeth?" Neal asked hesitantly.

She paused in her dialing and looked at him in concern. His voice sounded worried.

"What are you going to tell Moz?" Neal said.

"Well, I wasn't going to address it. What do you want me to tell him?" she asked.

Neal's eyes skimmed the room as he thought through it. Moz was frighteningly perceptive, but Neal knew he'd successfully kept things from Moz before. ...but what were the odds of keeping this secret? In all honesty, it was surprising that Moz hadn't yet walked in while he was over Peter's knee.

Moz's voice yet again rang in his mind, 'You've got the impulse control of a child.' Neal blushed at the memory, despite himself.

Elizabeth gave him a sympathy pout, "Want me to wait to call him?"

"Could I talk to him?" Neal asked, then added quickly, "I know the rule, but just this once, since it's new."

Elizabeth quirked her mouth to the side as she thought about it, she dialed the last few digits and then handed the phone over to Neal.

"Just this once," she said in a sweet motherly tone.

"Thanks," Neal said, swallowing down the surprising amount of anxiety he felt as his mind raced to come to a decision.

"Mrs Suit, so lovely to hear from you. To what do I owe the pleasure?" Moz said immediately upon answering.

"Moz, it's me," Neal said quietly, shooting anxious eyes at Elizabeth, who gave him some space but still listened.

"The way I heard it, you were grounded," Moz said in a deadpan voice. "What are you doing calling me? Was there a jailbreak I wasn't privy to?"

Neal squeezed his eyes shut, inwardly cursing that Mozzie had immediately touched on the one thing he didn't want to talk about. But, of course it'd be the first thing Moz would bring up. He knew it would be.

"No," Neal chuckled, "No jailbreak. I'll tell you the tale on Monday."

"I'd rather hear it now," Moz said, and Neal knew that, despite the tease in Mozzie's tone, that his friend was deeply concerned and would be reading into whether or not Neal was currently able to explain to him what was happening. That he would be looking for coded messages in anything that Neal said and would act accordingly to help. It was part and parcel to the lifestyle they lived.

"She knows," Neal said, knowing that being direct was the best way to lower his friend's Spidey Sense.

Moz groaned, instantly guessing correctly that Neal was referring to Sara and the tape.

Neal continued over the groan, "And now Peter knows, and it wasn't pretty but it's all good."

"I see," Moz said, and Neal could hear that his friend was trying very hard to keep his irritation with him in check. Moz had warned him, more than once, that stealing the tape was very risky. He also hadn't been pleased when Neal had roped him into the plot and had been especially irate about having to be the one to do the deed.

"Suit said you were grounded, and now you're calling from his house," Moz said in a tone that for most people would be pleasant, but that Neal knew to be waspish for his friend. "Care to explain?"

"I'm just visiting," Neal said.

"That's not what June said," Moz countered.

Neal pressed his lips together. Of course Peter had told June. She had to of heard what Peter'd done to him now that Neal thought about it, it's not as though he was able to stay quiet during that particular ordeal - or any of them, for that matter. He blushed deeply at the thought of her listening to Peter spank him. She surely would have demanded answers and he was half surprised - and completely grateful - that she hadn't busted into the room during any of his 'corrections' in an attempt to come to his aid.

Neal sighed, his spankings must sound exactly like what they are, or she'd of in the very least questioned him to make sure he was ok. Neal thanked her inwardly for letting him keep as much of his dignity as possible. ….or did she?...

"What did June say?" Neal asked.

"She said you'd be staying with the Suits all weekend," Moz said in a way that left Neal wondering whether Moz knew more or not. Neal also knew that that was Moz's intent.

After a long silence, Moz added, "The Suit really grounded you, didn't he?"

"Uh huh," Neal said, an even deeper blush creeping up his neck and over his face, partly due to the bright tone in Mozzie's voice at the thought.

"Keeping you in house is a good way to keep an eye on you," Moz said matter of factly.

"Peter sure thinks so," Neal said, his voice a little uncomfortable.

"Did I get you in trouble texting today?" Moz asked.

"A little," Neal said tightly. "Look Moz, it's not what you think - and actually Elizabeth wanted to talk to you. I just wanted to explain things first."

"Oh yeah, ok," Moz said in a tone that showed he didn't believe that at all. "Put Mrs Suit on, then," he said even more brightly.

Neal handed Elizabeth the phone with a sigh, and she patted him on the back and gave him a look of sympathy before putting the phone to her ear.

"Hi Mozzie," she said.

"I hope you're feeding him more than just bread and water," Moz said.

Elizabeth giggled, "We are."

Neal's head shot up, wondering what they were talking about.

"Good, good," Moz said. "May I ask why are you doing this?"

"To keep him safe," Elizabeth said. "Sara was sending him back to jail, and that's not something Peter or I could live with."

"I knew I liked you," Moz said. "He can't help himself, you know."

"That's why we're working on it," Elizabeth said.

"Well I'm here if you need help," Moz said, surprising Elizabeth.

"Really?" she asked, her surprise clear in her voice.

"If you're not going to let him go back to jail? Sure," Moz said.

Neal was frowning at her, his arms folded over his chest as he leaned with his back against the kitchen counter. Elizabeth gave him a stern look for eavesdropping, to which he had the grace to look chastised at, and she then shewed him quickly towards the living room.

"I'd of thought you'd be his accomplice," Elizabeth said once Neal was in the living room and out of earshot.

Neal huffed and gave her a bit of a put out look, but joined Peter on the couch to watch baseball.

"You'd think so, but not when it comes to his freedom," Moz said.

"That's good to know," Elizabeth said. "A bit hard to believe, but good to know."

"You realize he asked me to break his anklet the first day he had it," Moz said. "I told him it couldn't be done."

Elizabeth felt her heart sink into her stomach. "That's what Peter says," Elizabeth said, focusing on the breakability of the anklet rather than the fact that Neal had tried to run. It was much too painful a thought.

Moz chuckled, and that caught her attention.

"You can break it?" she asked.

"Of course I can break it," Moz yelled proudly into the phone. "But that's not what's best for Neal."

"Mmm," Elizabeth said in a distracted sort of way, her mind still on Neal asking for help in running. Would he do it again? Could their new arrangement push him into it?

"You do also realize he's been off his tracker a number of times since?" Moz said, picking up on her discomfort. "He hasn't run any of those times. Hasn't mentioned wanting to run. He's grown. He trusts you both. You're important to him."

Elizabeth smiled, believing more than ever that they were doing the right thing and that there was hope for Neal, there was actual proof that he was improving.

"That's good to know," she said, and she could almost hear Mozzie smile on the other end.

"So, I was told you wanted to talk to me - and I'm assuming it's not about this?" he said.

"Yes!" Elizabeth laughed, remembering the reason for the call. "I wanted to invite you to go antiquing with us next weekend."

"When you say 'us'..."

"Me, Peter, and Neal," Elizabeth said.

"Ah," Moz said, as though gaining a significant piece of information.

"Does Saturday work for you? Maybe we could get a bite at La Danielle first?" Elizabeth said.

"I've been meaning to try that place," Moz said. "Sounds great, what time?"

"10-ish?" Elizabeth said.

"I'll meet you there," Moz said.

Elizabeth hung up the phone and walked into the living room. Peter was happily watching the game while Neal sulked next to him on the couch, clearly bored out of his mind. His eyes shot to Elizabeth when she walked in and he raised his eyebrows.

"Mozzie's in, we'll meet him at La Danielle at 10 on Saturday," she told him.

Neal smiled, he was hoping to try that place soon. His smile grew bigger when he heard the quiet groan from Peter at the news. Fancy food and antiquing were as beloved by Peter as smelly sandwiches and baseball were to Neal. Neal gave Peter a devilish grin, and Peter playfully raised an eyebrow in response. The two chuckled and then the game had Peter's attention again.

Elizabeth took a seat next to Neal, who was now sitting in between his newfound 'parents,' when Neal leaned towards her.

"What were you two saying about me?" he whispered, nearly pulling off his feigned depiction of calm and unconcerned.

Elizabeth smiled warmly at his attempt to hide his worry. "I didn't give any details other than we're making sure to keep you out of jail," she told him.

Neal smiled up at her, "That must have made him happy."

"It sure did," she agreed. She kept the part about his anklet to herself, and Neal didn't appear to be suspicious.

But he was suspicious, and still had a fair amount of embarrassment to boot with Moz knowing he was 'grounded.' Yes, they often joked with childish terms like this in regards to Peter's handling of him, it was part of being a criminal and usually rather funny, but the fact that this time it was all true made Neal squirm.

Neal slouched even more and snuggled deeper into the couch, hands neatly folded in his lap, and mindlessly watched the baseball game as his brain whirred and worried.

There wasn't much he could do about it, was there? Well, nothing he was presently willing to do. He liked the newfound closeness with his brand new parents. He had no desire to risk it or to screw it up in any way. And really, how was he going to keep such a thing from Moz long term?

Neal sighed. He still very much did not want Moz knowing about the details of this arrangement. At least Elizabeth seemed on board with that.

….but then, June apparently knew. Sara definitely knew - and just thinking of her and that entire memory made him turn brick red.

Would Sara use it against him? Or try to do that to him herself?

Of course, that last thought actually sounded fun. Neal smirked at the thought of purposely getting caught by her, art in hand. Her marching to him, grabbing him by the wrist…. his face burned for a very different reason and, sitting as he was between his 'parents,' he thought it best to occupy his thoughts elsewhere.

For the time being.

...but it would definitely be worth the risk to find out what she'd do, he thought to himself and smiled.

Peter leaned into Neal's personal space. Neal blinked hard, coming out of his thoughts, and looked at him quizzically.

"You don't like baseball," Peter said.

"I wouldn't say that," Neal said, his eyes scanning Peter's face for a clue as to where this was going.

"You whine every time I put the game on during stakeouts," Peter said.

"I never whine," Neal bit back.

"You were smiling," Peter said, bypassing Neal's irritated - and very untruthful - response.

"When?" Neal glared at Peter.

"Just now," Peter said, and watched the glare leave Neal's face.

"Was I?" Neal said, in a little too much of an innocent tone.

"You were," Peter said, and Neal could see Peter go into full on Peter-mode, deciphering every micro expression that Neal wore on his face.

"Oh," Neal said and widened his eyes. He looked at Peter and shrugged, "Just thinking about saving that kid. That was fun." He smiled, and then thought over the case they'd been working on. That way it wasn't a lie.

Peter narrowed his eyes at him and watched Neal for a long moment. His face cracked into a smile and he admitted, "It was pretty fun."

Neal beamed at Peter while Elizabeth stretched next to them.

"I'm getting hungry," she said. "Anyone else ready for some lunch?"

"Absolutely," Peter said. Neal sat up brightly, excited to be rid of baseball.

"Why don't we go to that new cafe down the block," Neal started to say.

"No," Peter said immediately. "Not while you're grounded."

Neal huffed and sank back into the couch, his arms folded.

"I was thinking about ordering pizza," Elizabeth said, more than a little annoyed with both her guys. The strain in her voice had them both looking at her with attentive eyes.

"That sounds great, El," Peter said. "Want me to order?"

"No," Neal whispered loudly to Elizabeth, "he always wants extra onions."

Elizabeth pulled a face as Peter grouched out a 'hey.'

"I'll order," she said to them both, and Neal smiled triumphantly at Peter, who raised an eyebrow at him and smirked.

Elizabeth left the room with Satchmo at her heels, and she was happy to have a few moments free of baseball, arguments, and whining. She was surprised at how much work mothering a grown man was, but absolutely felt it was more than worth it. Plus, she already loved it. It was just going to take some time getting used to - and starting off the way they were, what with a spanking and a grounding, wasn't an easy way to start, after all.

She ordered the pizza and then took some more time to herself by making some coffee.

Neal rested his head on the couch as he slouched and lazily watched baseball. After a few minutes, which seemed like hours to the disinterested Neal, of baseball Neal huffed loudly.

"Shush," Peter said immediately.

"I'm bored," Neal said.

"You need to learn to sit with yourself," Peter said.

Neal glared at Peter, but Peter was too engrossed in the game to notice.

"So, am I only allowed outside when Satchmo needs a walk when I'm grounded?" Neal asked Peter.

"Yes," Peter answered distractedly, watching the game intensely.

"I got more outdoor time in prison," Neal muttered.

"Maybe, but no one here is going to shank you," Peter said.

"This isn't without it's injuries," Neal groused under his breath.

"You looking for another round?" Peter said, finally looking at Neal.

Neal looked at Peter warily, even though he knew Peter wasn't serious. At least, he didn't think he was. There was something oddly comforting about being threatened by Peter, something that felt safe. ...but that realization wasn't enough to stamp down his feelings of frustration.

"Imagine if I made you go to the art museum and eat fancy food all weekend long," Neal said.

"I do those sorts of things with El all the time," Peter said. "Sometimes grown ups have to do things they don't like, Neal."

Neal looked at Peter in annoyance, then closed his eyes and leaned his head back again with another huff.

"This is a really good punishment for you," Peter said.

Neal laughed, despite himself, and nodded his head. "This is downright evil," he said.

Peter chuckled in amusement, which for some reason set Neal into a bout of laughter.

"I hate having rules so much," Neal said in between laughing.

"Well, you hide it very well," Peter joked.

This made Neal laugh harder, and Peter joined in.

Elizabeth peaked around the corner in confusion and, seeing her two guys laughing hysterically, poured herself a glass of wine and decided to sit out on the back patio for a bit. Either they'd finally lost it or, more likely, they were bonding. She didn't want to intrude.

After a few minutes, the laughter died down and the two men sat grinning at the television.

"What made you decide to," Neal started, then seemed to lose his nerve. When Peter looked at him and raised his brow so as to prompt the younger man, Neal continued, "...to do...all of this?"

"Spank you?"

Neal flinched in embarrassment and shot big eyes at Peter as his cheeks reddened. After a beat he gave a reluctant nod.

Peter quirked his mouth to the side as he thought. Then he said, "Honestly, I'd thought about resorting to spanking you long before I did it."

Neal's eyes widened predictably.

"Jail isn't where you belong, and you can act so childishly when you want to…"

"Hey, not nice," Neal interrupted, but Peter talked over the interruption.

"I couldn't let you rot in jail. You've got a good heart, it just wasn't going to happen," Peter said. "And I can't risk you doing something that gets you hurt or killed," Peter grimaced at the thought. "I needed a deterrent, something to keep you safe." He raised his hands in frustration, "You wiggled out of everything else…"

"Conned and escaped," Neal corrected proudly.

Peter gave him a look. "Like I said. Wiggled," Peter said, smirking at Neal's indignant look. "And the more we worked together, the more you opened up to me," Peter's voice became very hushed, "the more I began to think of you as a son."

Neal smiled up at Peter and snuggled deeper into the couch.

"The first time was just a logical reaction to what you'd done," Peter said. "You needed it. I needed to keep you safe and on the right path."

"It wasn't to humiliate me?" Neal asked in a soft voice. It was so unlike his normal tone that Peter looked at him a long moment.

"Neal, it's never been about humiliating you," he said. "I just want you safe."

Neal gave Peter another soft smile and visibly looked very comforted by that remark.

"Did you really think I was trying to humiliate you?"

"A little," Neal said in a way that Peter knew meant that Neal very much had thought that. "I mean, with Sara…"

"She wasn't going to let you off without me doing that," Peter interjected, hoping Neal would understand.

"But you pulled my sweatpants down," Neal said.

"Alright, that's true," Peter said. "While I do think that bit of humiliation was good for you, it was more about getting you to listen."

Neal thought it over, his forehead creased, and decided that that made sense. He looked at Peter with large, sheepish eyes.

"Yes?" Peter said after waiting a few moments for Neal to speak.

"Are you going to let anyone else know?" Neal asked.

"Only if I have to," Peter said. "If you go too far, and I've nothing else in my toolbox to reign you in. If other people happen to be around, so be it."

Neal raised his eyebrows. "That's good to know," he said soberly, and Peter shook his head. Clearly Neal still had it in him to push Peter in public in order to do as he pleased, and was checking where that limit happened to be.

It was annoying, and pretty damn unfair in Peter's opinion. But Neal obviously had an unconventional and difficult upbringing, and so far there seemed to be very good and unavoidable reasons for the way he was that had been out of the kid's control. So of course Neal was checking his barriers. ...That didn't necessarily mean that he'd get off scot free.

Peter eyed Neal sternly and Neal had the grace to look ashamed about what he had covertly been asking. There was a moment where Neal looked worried, wheels were definitely turning in Peter's mind.

"I was just asking," Neal said.

"You were checking," Peter countered.

"In the form of a question," Neal said.

"Mmm-hmmm," Peter hummed in response, frowning.

Neal gave Peter his shocked and worried kitten expression, all flashy-blue eyes and raised brows. Peter huffed and gave Neal a look somewhere between a smirk and a glare.

"Neal?" Peter asked with an edge to his voice.

"Yes Peter?" Neal responded innocently.

"Are you testing to see how far you can go before I pull you over my knee?" Peter narrowed his eyes at him.

"I'm pretty close to that line right now, aren't I?"

"You may have crossed it," Peter told him. "You were emotionally manipulating me into thinking you were worried when you asked me that question. Really you were checking to see how far you could go. Weren't you?"

A direct question.

Neal blanched, brows knit together, but he never outright lied to Peter, and so he gave a pitiful nod of his head and waited.

"And you were going to use that knowledge to your benefit, to misbehave, isn't that so?" Peter asked, his tone becoming very stern.

Neal gave another sad nod, his eyes wide, as he waited to see what the older man would do.

Predictably, Peter huffed and rolled up his sleeve while eyeing Neal irritatedly.

Butterflies danced in Neal's stomach and he felt a full flush blaze across his throat and face, but there was more. Fear, yes - but also relief. He'd wondered if he'd feel it if he pushed Peter into doing this to him again. ...and he did.

"Scoot over, I'm taking the middle cushion for this," Peter told him, and Neal scooted to where Elizabeth had been sitting, watching Peter in an odd sort of fascination.

Peter was quite aware of the fact that Neal was being oddly agreeable, but then he took hold of the younger man's wrist…

"Wait! Peter, I'm sorry," Neal said in a rush, trying to pull his wrist free. And he was sorry, it was plain to see just by looking at him.

"Then we're making progress," Peter said, "but you're still getting spanked. Stop fighting me."

Neal mewled and tried to pry Peter's fingers from his wrist, but Peter took this opportunity to grab Neal's forearm and yanked the young man over his lap with one good tug as he pushed the coffee table safely away with his foot to prevent Neal from colliding with it. He wrapped his left arm around Neal's torso just as Neal attempted to vault himself off Peter's lap, and Peter leaned over him to hold him in place until he was able to get a firm grip.

"This wasn't that bad," Neal whined.

"It was that bad, and you're grounded," Peter said. "You should be walking the straight and narrow while grounded, but you've given El and I quite the time today, haven't you?"

Neal whimpered and lowered his head. "Yeesss," he ground out irritably. He didn't straight out lie to Peter when he was standing upright, he definitely wasn't going to start while in this particular position.

"Yes you have," Peter agreed and then landed a stinging swat over Neal's trousers that had Neal bobbing his head up in pain, eyes squeezed shut.

"I'll be reasonable," Neal said, he'd thought about saying he'd be 'good,' but couldn't quite bring himself to it.

"You sure better be," Peter said, finding a rhythm smacking the naughty bottom presented to him. "From here on out, every indiscretion is landing you over my knee this weekend, is that understood?"

"Come on," Neal yelled back at him.

"Come on?" Peter bit back angrily, surprised yet again by Neal's gall. "Ok," he said, and then unleashed a flurry of spanks that had Neal squirming and trying to pull himself off Peter's lap instantly.

"You stop that right now," Peter warned in a tone so angry that Neal immediately complied. Even still, Peter began putting more strength into the swats. They rained down without logical pattern, but many were already focused on Neal's sit spots and thighs. Neal felt the familiar sting to his eyes as tears formed.

He wanted to argue further, but having taken two spanking in less than twenty four hours combined with a low pain tolerance left him unable to focus on anything but the maniacal swats searing into his backside. He gripped the couch's cushion with his left hand and Peter's ankle with his right and tried to ride out the storm as best he could.

Clearly, it hadn't been among his best ideas to push Peter to the particular activity.

But it was a little too late to realize that now.

"Owww," Neal cried out sadly, tears still unshed and glistening in his eyes.

"Ow is right," Peter said as he spanked, "I am very angry with you about all this emotional manipulation, Neal. I thought you respected us."

It was like something exploded in Neal's mind.

"Wait...wait," Neal said, but Peter kept spanking. "Please, wait," Neal said so emphatically that Peter stopped spanking altogether. He rubbed a hand over Neal's back, worried at the stress in the young man's voice and the fact that Neal had burst into tears.

"Are you ok?" Peter asked, "what happened?" He knew that, although he was being very firm, that he wasn't spanking too hard - or so he thought. He immediately reached under Neal to undo his trousers and check when Neal shook his head and finally found his voice.

"I didn't know," Neal said, then stopped to hiccup out a sob. "I just…" he started and then stopped again.

"You just what?" Peter said, at a complete loss for what Neal was trying to tell him and growing more worried by the second. He went ahead and tugged Neal's trousers and boxers down, very aware of the fact that Neal made no motion to stop him, and saw only pink skin - no bruising, no injury.

"You just what, Neal," Peter said again.

Neal took a deep, cleansing breath. "I needed to know, I … there's no one I respect more than you and Elizabeth. I didn't … I just…"

Peter let Neal stammer himself into silence, never before having known Neal to be in such a state.

"Are you trying to say you needed to know what I would do?" Peter asked.

Neal nodded.

"Neal, you know this is what I'd do," Peter said.

"Yeah," Neal said.

"Kid, what are you trying to tell me?"

Neal took a moment to get his thoughts in order, then ventured a look up at Peter. It made him feel terrible to see concern, love, and patience looking back at him, and so he began speaking much more honestly than he likely otherwise would have:

"Alright, yes I was manipulating Elizabeth when we got here last night, I thought she'd side with me if I laid it on thick and that I'd have a great weekend, but I never thought either of you would think that'd mean I didn't respect you both," Neal said.

Peter slightly shook his head and blinked heavily at that, surprised that anyone would think otherwise, but he filed that away as another puzzle piece and kept listening.

"And today I was frustrated, and you're right I did push back a lot - but this is a lot, Peter," Neal said, and looked imploringly up at Peter.

"I'll grant you that," Peter said. Certainly someone Neal's age who most likely had very little parenting would have a hard time with this arrangement, whether they wanted it or not.

"But just now, I needed to…I was..." Neal started and then stopped again. After a long moment of silence, Peter spoke.

"Oh no, mister, you're not puttering out now," Peter said. "Keep talking."

Neal tentatively licked his lips and flashed uncertain eyes at Peter, who raised his brow at him.

"Neal," Peter warned to help him along.

"Sometimes all of this," Neal started and then paused again. "The reason it was easy to agree to - well," and then Neal's eyes changed, and Peter knew that the next thing Neal said would not be what Neal had intended to say, but instead would be an out.

"I'm sorry I manipulated you," Neal finally said. "I never intended to make you feel like I don't respect you. That's really crushing that I did that, actually."

Peter knew that was true, because it'd been when he mentioned respect that Neal had burst into tears. But that's not what Neal had been about to tell him.

"It's important to me that you know I very much respect you and Elizabeth," Neal said with a slight desperate edge to his voice as he looked imploringly up at Peter. He couldn't have the person he trusted the most not understand this fact.

"I believe you," Peter said, giving Neal a soft smile and patting his back. Neal visibly relaxed at that a great deal, going so far as to take another deep, cleansing breath.

"Can you find it in your heart to forgive me?" Neal said with a megawatt Caffrey smile, which Peter couldn't help but smirk at, given Neal's current predicament over his knee and bare assed.

"I forgive you," Peter said in amusement, and righted Neal's clothing. He helped the young con back up into a sitting position and politely pretended not to see the wince when Neal's ass met the couch cushion.

Neal looked warily at Peter, eager to make sure everything was truly alright, and gave the older man a small smile.

Peter ruffled Neal's hair, which earned him a much larger smile from the kid, and said, "Why don't you go check up on El."

Neal nodded happily and bound off towards the back patio.

Elizabeth, who'd heard the basics of what was going on inside, took another sip of her wine and looked Neal over carefully with a bright smile when he came outside. She was a bit surprised to see him so happy.

"Hey Neal," she said.

"Hi," he said. "Want some company?"

"Yes, please," Elizabeth said with an exaggerated wide eyed look. "Anything to prolong having to watch more baseball."

They both laughed at that and Neal took a seat across from her.

Satchmo put his head in Neal's lap, and Neal scratched at the dog's ears absently, enjoying some outdoor time and wondering if Elizabeth was aware of the 'no outdoor time other than dog walks' rule. He smiled and decided he wasn't going to be the one to inform her. Peter'd sent him out here, after all. He chuckled to himself.

"Pizza should be here in about ten minutes," Elizabeth said, leaning back in her chair and enjoying the nice breeze.

"Mmm," Neal hummed in acknowledgment, sighing happily at the fact that he was sitting in the sun on a beautiful Saturday, and enjoying the wind gently rustling his hair.

Elizabeth thought about questioning Neal about what had clearly just taken place inside, and the hows and whys of it, but instead decided to just ask Peter later. Neal seemed so content and relaxed - happy, really. They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes, and then Elizabeth stretched and reluctantly said, "We should head in. Pizza will be here any minute."

"Yeah," Neal said a little unhappily, but he got up and followed her inside.

Peter was paying the delivery man when they walked in.

"There you two are," he said in a friendly tone. He set the pizza boxes on the coffee table and said, "Neal, grab some drinks and napkins, would ya?"

"Sure," Neal said. "Let me guess," he pointed at Peter with a faux serious expression, "beer?"

Peter chuckled and nodded.

"You good?" Neal asked Elizabeth, to which she nodded. "There more of that?" he asked hopefully, pointing at her glass of wine, and smiled when she again nodded.

Neal was back in a few seconds, glass of wine in one hand, a beer and some paper towels in the other. He stepped over Peter's feet to take his spot on the middle cushion, and the three dug happily into the pizzas.

After the baseball game ended, Elizabeth claimed control of the remote and put on The 400 Blows, an old black and white classic French film with subtitles. Peter, not one for the arts, was completely captivated by the film, just as Elizabeth had suspected him to be once he stopped grousing about having to read his way through a film. Neal, on the other hand, great lover of all arts, was shifty throughout, sending her big-eyed glances here and there, to which she either patted his hand or pulled him in for a kiss to the top of his head.

It was definitely a way to send a message while being empathetic and caring, and Elizabeth knew that Neal would appreciate it.

Neal, for his part, wondered just how much communication could have occurred between Peter and Elizabeth that day, seeing as how the two hadn't spent any time alone other than when they were in bed that morning. Was Elizabeth intuning that he'd had a less than stellar childhood? Was it that obvious? No one else had ever picked up on it.

"Looks like Satch needs a walk," Peter said after the movie ended.

Neal was drawn from his thoughts and eager to get some walking in. He smiled excitedly up at Peter and was up and off of the couch before Elizabeth could stretch after sitting still for so long.

"You coming?" Neal asked Elizabeth.

"Why not," she said with a smile, "I could use a good walk."

"So, 400 Blows - odd choice for a Saturday," Neal said hesitantly as they walked down the sidewalk.

Elizabeth wrapped an arm around his and said, "I love Truffaut and it happened to be on - but I did see how it affected you, and - well - I did suspect you and Antoine shared some similarities. I'm sorry, are you alright?" She patted his arm.

Neal smiled, the Burke's had an odd openness he just wasn't used to. It was nice.

"I am," he said, still smiling.

"You can learn a lot from that film," Peter said, not unexpectedly. "No matter the cause for the crime, crime just doesn't pay," he said, with a pointed look at Neal. "Not everyone in a place of authority has compassion…"

"I know, I'm very lucky," Neal said, but with amusement rather than annoyance. When Peter gave him a look he added a sincere, "And I very much appreciate that fact every day."

"So you liked the film," Elizabeth asked.

"I did," Peter said, picking up after Satchmo.

"That's great, honey, there are so many Truffaut films we can watch together," she said brightly.

Peter stood stiffly and gave her a weary look.

Neal outright laughed at him.

Peter mock glared at him, then gave a hopeful look to Elizabeth that it had indeed been a joke.

It hadn't.

Half an hour later they were back home and thinking about dinner.

"How about I make my famous spaghetti?" Peter offered.

"Famous spaghetti," Neal said, very amused. He'd never heard of anyone having a famous spaghetti recipe before. He looked at Elizabeth, who was smirking in an amused and loving way at Peter.

"That sounds wonderful, honey," she told Peter, and that was all he needed to hear before shooting off into the kitchen to cook as Elizabeth fed Satchmo. Her and Neal then went about setting the table.

"Famous spaghetti?" Neal asked Elizabeth as they set the table once Peter was clanging away in the kitchen.

"It was the only thing he knew how to make when I met him," she said happily. "He puts all sorts of weird things in it, it's good."

"Sounds like it," Neal said, letting just enough sarcasm through to be polite. What on earth is Peter about to make me eat? he thought to himself. His mind went to Peter's sandwich of choice, and Neal thought about feigning a headache to get out of eating dinner.

"It's good," Elizabeth insisted, so Neal sighed deeply and took a seat next to her on the couch.

If Elizabeth was this insistent that something tasted good, it must taste good, Neal reasoned finally.

The two of them talked art, food, and wine while they waited, Neal carefully avoiding any other topics. While he'd appreciated the talks he'd had with them both so far this weekend, he simply needed some normalcy.

Elizabeth happily obliged, glad to see Neal comfortable and happy.

Peter walked to the dining room table and plopped down a huge bowl. He turned to them with a big smile and said, "Come and eat!"

Neal looked up warily and then realized it actually smelled pretty good. Peter stood there with his hands on his hips and a wide smile.

"Thanks honey," Elizabeth said with a giggle, kissing Peter on the cheek. "It looks great."

Neal took his seat and saw a basket of garlic bread and that the bowl of spaghetti contained huge, delicious looking meatballs.

Maybe this won't be so bad, Neal thought. That thought proved accurate. There were definitely strange ingredients, not all of which Neal could identify, and which Peter clearly enjoyed watching Neal try to figure out, but it was good.

"You definitely put cardamom in this," Neal said.

"I didn't," Peter laughed.

Neal playfully narrowed his eyes at Peter.

"Nutmeg?" Neal tried again. "Allspice?" But each time Peter laughed and shook his head.

Elizabeth laughed as she watched them, then Neal turned his eyes to her.

"What did he put in these," he play-demanded.

Her eyes widened and she gave an exaggerated shrug. Her and Peter laughed while Neal gave them suspicious but playful eyes.

Soon the meal was finished and the dishes done, and Neal was very sleepy.

"It must be late," he said.

Peter looked at his watch, "It's just after ten."

Neal raised his eyebrows in surprise at that, it felt like it was at least two in the morning - but he supposed the emotional day he had would feel that way.

"Heading to bed?" Peter asked him.

Neal nodded and rubbed at his eyes.

"Night," he said, and turned to walk upstairs when both Elizabeth and Peter got up and gave him a hug. Neal sighed happily and hugged them back.

"You can eat when you get up," Peter joked. "Please don't wake me early on a Sunday unless it's an emergency."

Neal chuckled and waved off the joke, and climbed the stairs. It didn't take him long to get ready for bed, and he thought over how odd it was that Peter mistook his actions for a lack of respect. Moz never would. ...would he? Neal got into bed and rolled onto his back. Moz had at times gotten very upset with him, but Neal had always assumed it was because he'd been outsmarted by Neal or hadn't been let in on a con. Now he was rethinking that.

Downstairs, Elizabeth finally remembered she had something to ask Peter.

"What happened while I was on the patio?"

"Neal and I had a discussion about emotional manipulation," Peter said, and then told her all the details.

"You know that's not what he was going to say," Elizabeth said when he got to the part where Neal clearly apologized for the manipulation rather than say whatever he'd intended to say.

"I know," Peter said, deep in thought about that fact.

"What do you think he was going to say?" she asked, a note of concern in her voice.

"I'm not sure," Peter said, then looked at her. "But he clearly was testing to see if I'd spank him. He was pushing his limits."

"My friends say that's what kids do," Elizabeth said. "Especially teenagers. You don't think this is some sort of repressed childhood thing, do you?"

Peter thought about that and, while Neal could definitely be childish, that didn't feel right.

"No," he said finally. "I don't think that's it."

Elizabeth curled up next to him and rested her head on his shoulder.

"We'll figure it out," she said.

"We will," he agreed.

"Did you know he asked Mozzie to break his anklet the first day he had it?" Elizabeth asked sadly.

Peter flinched at that, but to be honest, he wasn't surprised.

"I did not," he said.

"Mozzie told him it couldn't be done," Elizabeth said, a smile in her voice.

Peter looked down at her quizzically.

"It can't be," he said.

Elizabeth looked up at him, "Mozzie says he can break it, but that he didn't want to because it wasn't what was best for Neal, and that Neal has never talked about running since."

Peter beamed down at her.

"You like him a little bit now, don't you?" Elizabeth teased.

Peter tried and failed to suppress a smile.

"That little guy is trouble," he said emphatically.

"Maybe, but he's on our side," she said.

"Does he know…" Peter started to ask.

"I didn't tell him," Elizabeth said. "It's up to Neal whether Mozzie knows."

"I agree," Peter said.

Elizabeth snuggled closer to her husband as he turned on the news, both lost in their own thoughts.