remember how i said iām on a White Collar kick? have a long snip (iām really proud of this fic so far and i pray i can finish it)
Peter parked the Taurus on the street in front of Juneās house, and he turned to Neal, his voice so stern and unyielding that Neal immediately wished for the bliss of his silence again the second Peter opened his mouth. āGet your bag. You have five minutes.ā
An overnight stay at the Burkeās never boded well for Nealās backside.
āTen,ā he blurted out, then stammered as Peterās expression darkened, āI-I mean, I might need ten minutes to pack.ā
āYou donāt need to pack. You have a bag ready to go, sitting on the floor of your closet of designer suits, just for this purpose.ā
He did. Unfortunately, it was a frequent enough occurrence that Neal was dragged to the Burke residence that a packed bag had become necessary, but that didnāt mean Neal was at all eager to go get it. Once he got it, heād bring it down to the car, then they would go to Peterās house, and thereā¦ well, there Peter would make sure that the few swats heād given Neal earlier would seem like a walk in the park in comparison.
Peter nodded towards the magnificent house. āGet it, now.ā
āI unpacked it,ā Neal said without thinking, desperate for an escape from this fate that was starting to look like it was set in stone. He suppressed the urge to winceāit wasnāt a lie, exactly, as he had unpacked the bag at one time, but at this moment, it was most certainly packed and ready to go, upstairs on the floor of his closet of designer suits, just as Peter had said.
Peter held his gaze for about a solid fifteen seconds, then he nodded once, with enough decision that Nealās stomach plummeted to his feet. He opened his mouth to say somethingāanything, to backtrack, to mislead, anything that would workābut Peter moved fast, unbuckling his seatbelt and, to Nealās horror, getting out of the car.
Neal scrambled to follow suit, practically jumping out of the car and leaving the door swinging on its hinges to impede Peter from making it to the front door. āOkay, Iāll get it!ā
āYouāre stalling.ā Peter firmly did not allow Neal to block his path, trudging onwards despite Nealās best efforts. āSo, fine. Iāll get it.ā
āNo, Peter!ā Neal rushed after him. His handler let himself into Juneās home and up the stairs like he owned the place, and Neal had never more regretted the fact his handler was required a key to his residence for such an occasion. There was just no stopping him. āThis is really unnecessaryāā
Peter snorted but didnāt comment, heading straight for the door to the back of Nealās apartment. Neal stopped in the kitchen, contemplating his options. Well, running was out. Unless he cut his anklet with his kitchen scissors and disappeared into the wind, which was admittedly tempting, but somehow, he couldnāt imagine Peter just giving up and deciding Neal didnāt really need a spanking since he was so willing to run away from it.
No, Neal was pretty sure Peter would just catch him and spank him again for running and throwing his whole deal and potential free future away.
Neal pushed his hands through his hair and paced the floor, unsure what else he could do. Bargain? Plead? He had to come up with something to get out of this. Anything.
Peter came out a couple minutes later with Nealās bag in hand, and the fierce determination in his face hadnāt dwindled a bit.
āI found it,ā Peter interrupted him. āIām sorry, Neal, you were right; it wasnāt completely packed.ā
Neal stopped in his tracks, more than sure that the bag had been fully packed and ready to go, despite his earlier attempts to stall.
āIāve taken care of it,ā Peter assured, and the tight smile he gave Neal was not at all reassuring. āWe have everything we need now.ā
Neal had never more felt like heād set his own trap and walked into it. āMaybe I should look through it, just in caseāā
āOh, donāt worry.ā Peter slung the bag over his shoulder and gestured towards the door. āIāve got it.ā
Neal worried. Whatever Peter had done, whatever heād packed that he felt they needed, Nealās backside clenched in apprehension. It didnāt bode well.
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