Author’s Note: A blurb for season 1 episode 1 ‘Pilot’.
Disclaimer: I don’t own any of these characters, and I’m not making any money from this story.
Warning: Non-consensual spanking of an adult.

Don’t Self Destruct - S1xE1

Malcolm walked home, utterly exhausted. It had been days since he’d had a four-hour stretch of sleep, and years since he’d had a decent night’s sleep. But he was hoping tonight would be the night. He’d solved the case, caught the murderer, and saved the fourth victim before she was killed.

Sure, he’d had to visit his father for the first time in ten years. His hand twitched. He shoved them in the pockets of his coat.

And sure, he’d had to admit he was The Surgeon’s son in front of Dani, but he hadn’t seen many other options. It didn’t really matter what Dani thought of him anyway, since the case was closed. But with the case closed, the question of his future came back to the forefront of his mind.

He no longer worked for the FBI. Getting into the FBI had been his goal for so long, that there was no back up plan. But that was tomorrow’s problem. Tonight all he wanted was sleep.

Arriving at his loft, he let himself in, quickly brushed his teeth, put on his pajamas, and turned off the lights. Just as he was about to put on his restraints someone knocked on his door.

Frowning, Malcolm turned the light back on, and went downstairs to see who it was.

“Gil?” he asked after opening the door. “What’s wrong?” He opened the door wider and gestured for the older man to come inside.

“We need to talk,” Gil said with a scowl. He stepped in and went upstairs.

“Okay.” Malcolm shut the door and followed him up. “What’s up?”

Gil crossed his arms and starred Malcolm down. “Wanna tell me about the little speech you gave the killer?”

“Uh…” Malcolm didn’t like the look Gil was giving him. Half angry, half disappointed, and one hundred percent fatherly. Breaking eye contact, Malcolm shrugged, “I was kind of rambling, because I was trying to keep his focus on me instead of his wife and Dani. I’m not sure what all I said.”

“Don’t lie to me, kid. It’s too late, and I’m too tired.”

Malcolm winced and made eye contact again. “I told him the truth. I’m the Surgeon’s son. I didn’t turn him in because I was afraid of him, I turned him in because I was afraid of myself. I betrayed my father, so I’m the one who deserves the Surgeon’s pain.”

Gil just stared at him for a few seconds with disbelief on his face.

Sighing, Malcolm looked longingly towards his bed and wished this conversation was over.

“Of all the profiles you’ve concocted about yourself over the years, that has got to be top of the nonsense list.”

Malcolm’s eyes snapped back to Gil’s. “It’s not nonsense!”

Gil pointed a finger at him. “I told you not to go see him.”

“Yeah? Well, if I hadn’t we’d be looking at victim number four instead of discussing my profiles.” 

Gil’s nostrils flared. “And if the cops had arrived one second later, I’d be looking at your dead body.”

“Uh…”

“Dani told me all about how you stuck that needle full of poison right against your vein, and practically dared the murderer to kill you!”

Malcolm scowled, broke eye contact, and muttered, “It wasn’t poison, it was a carefully concocted set-”

“Would it have killed you?” Gil yelled.

Shrugging, Malcolm muttered, “Depends on how much of it got injected. It might just-“

Gil took the three steps that separated them, grabbed Malcolm’s upper arm and pulled him toward the bed.

Caught off guard, Malcolm stumbled to keep up. “Gil?”

“I’m done.”

“Done?” Done with what?” Starting to panic, Malcolm tried to pull his arm away from Gil’s grip. This was all feeling uncomfortably familiar.

“Your excuses.” Gil sat on the edge of Malcolm’s bed, yanked the young man over his lap, and clamped him in place by wrapping an arm around Malcolm’s waist.

“Gil! You can’t be serious!” It had been a decade since he’d been across Gil’s lap. It was so unfathomable, that Malcolm had trouble believing it was real. Was he actually asleep? Was this one of his night terrors? Gil’s hand smacked his backside hard, making it very clear to Malcolm that he was in fact awake, and this was in fact happening to him.

“I’m deadly serious,” Gil said, before smacking him again, and again, and again.

Malcolm grunted in surprise, and dismay. It hurt just as much as he remembered, and while he had a relatively high tolerance for pain, he had a very low tolerance for his mentor and sometimes father figure being angry with him.

“I’m an adult!” Malcolm could hear the whine in his own voice and cringed.

“Pretty sure that didn’t stop me last time,” Gil said loudly to be heard over the continued spanks.

Malcolm supposed at nineteen he’d officially been an adult, but he hadn’t felt like one back then.

“Gil, come on! This is ridiculous!”

The spanking stopped.

“Ridiculous?” Gil asked, his voice dangerously calm.

Malcolm swallowed hard and said, “I’m sorry, okay? I might have gotten a bit carried away with this case. It won’t happen again. I swear.”

“Ridiculous,” Gil repeated.

Malcolm felt Gil shifting slightly and heard the unmistakable sound of a belt being unbuckled. He craned his neck back to see what Gil was doing, and watched with horror as the older man made short work of pulling his belt off.

“Gil! What are you doing?”

Scowling at the younger man, Gil said, “What does it look like I’m doing?” Gil set the belt on the bed, doubled it over, and grabbed the ends in one hand, all the while keeping his arm like an iron band across Malcolm’s waist.

“You’re not going to hit me with that, are you?”

“Yeah, kid, I am, because you’re not taking this seriously.”

“No, I am! I swear! I am taking it seriously! You already gave me more than the last time, and it already hurts!”

“Good,” Gil snapped the belt across the seat of Malcolm’s pajama bottoms.

“Ow! Fuck!” Malcolm squirmed, seriously disliking this new development.

“Still think this is ridiculous?” Gil smacked the belt down again.

“Ow! No! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean ridiculous like I don’t respect you. I meant ridiculous like…”

“Ridiculous like you shouldn’t need a spanking at your age to keep you from self-destructing?” Gill guessed.

Malcolm cringed, hung his head, and muttered, “Yeah.”

“Do you remember the last time I spanked you?”

“Kind of hard to forget,” Malcolm said.

“What was it for?” Gil asked.

Sighing, Malcolm answered softly, “Putting myself in danger.”

“Be more specific,” Gil snapped the belt down again.

“Ow! For almost getting myself killed!” Malcolm admitted.

“Yep, and here we are again.” Gil slapped the belt across Malcolm’s backside.

“Ow! I’m sorry!”

“You don’t ‘deserve The Surgeon’s pain’.”  Gil laid down another stripe.

“Ow! Gil!”

“You didn’t ‘betray your father’, you heroically put a murderer behind bars.”

Malcolm involuntarily clenched his backside when he heard the swish of the belt before it landed. “Ow! Gil, please.”

“I understand that you want to save people, Malcolm, I really do. But your life is just as important as their lives are. You don’t sacrifice yourself for them, and you sure as hell don’t stick needles of poison against your arm.”

“Okay, I won’t. Ow! Gil, I- Ow! I understand! Ow! Please! I won’t- Ow! do it again! Gilll!” Malcolm couldn’t keep it together now that the lecture portion was apparently over. Each stipe of the belt stung and burned, and he couldn’t get past the pain of one slap before the next landed. Embarrassing tears ran down his face, and his legs kicked and twitched with each slap. “I’m sorry!” he yelled through his tears, truly meaning it this time.

Gil snapped the belt down twice more, and then set the belt down on the bed. The arm that had been holding Malcolm in place started rubbing his back.

As soon as he realized it was over, Malcolm pushed himself up to get out of the humiliatingly childish position.  He wiped his tears off his face with the hem of his tee-shirt, and then tried to rub some of the sting out of his very sore backside.

Gil stood up, put his belt back on, and then gently pulled Malcolm into a tight hug. “I don’t want to lose you, kid. Especially over some stunt you pull to catch a bad guy.”

Malcolm put his arms around Gil to hug him back. “Yeah, I got that loud and clear.”

“Good.” After a couple of moments, Gil patted Malcolm’s back and let go. “It’s late. Do you want me to help you put on your restraints?”

“No, I’ve got it.”

“Okay. Get some sleep. I’ll call you tomorrow to see how you’re doing, and I expect an honest answer.”

Malcolm nodded. “Okay.”

“I’ll see myself out.”

Malcolm watched the older man leave, still finding the entire interaction surreal. He looked down at his bed, and for the first time in years, he put his restraints on so he could sleep on his stomach instead of his back. The last thought he had before drifting off into a peaceful sleep, was that he might actually sleep through the night for the first time in a decade.

The End

Author’s Note: A blurb for season 1 episode 2 ‘Annihilator’. The first few lines come straight from the show.
Disclaimer: I don’t own any of these characters, and I’m not making any money from this story.
Warning: Non-consensual spanking of an adult.

Don’t Lie - S1xE2

Malcolm sat on the couch in Gil’s office, one of the few places he felt truly safe in the world. Gil handed him a glass of Whisky.

Gil held up his glass in a toast. “As a member of the team, you should be proud of yourself.”

Malcolm forced himself not to wince. “Yeah, definitely,” he agreed. Except he wasn’t proud. Not proud at all. He was extremely grateful that he and Dani had saved those kids, and he was satisfied knowing that the killer was going to face justice. But he was not proud of himself for going to see his father again after a decade of being away. And he was not proud that he’d relied on his father yet again to help him solve the crime.

Gil interrupted his thoughts, “Kid, what do I need to know? How bad is it.”

Malcolm took a drink of the alcohol to think that over. Gil would definitely think he ‘needed to know’ that Malcolm had seen his father again. He’d definitely think he ‘needed to know’ that Martin was calling him repeatedly. He’d probably also think he ‘needed to know’ that Malcolm had released himself from the hospital against his doctor’s advice. And he’d definitely want to hear about ‘how bad’ the night terrors were becoming over the girl in the box.

Forcing his eyes to Gil’s, Malcolm lied, “You don’t have to worry about me.” Looking away he added, “I can do the job. Actually, it’s the place I feel most normal. I need it.”

“Yeah, that’s not a good thing. Nobody should need this.”

Trying not to sound desperate, Malcolm said, “You’ll call me in on another case?”

“Absolutely. One-hundred percent.” Gil gave him a reassuring smile.

Feeling worse about everything he wasn’t telling Gil, Malcolm finished his drink in one big swig, and stood up to leave. Except his balance was off, and he had to hold on to the arm of the couch to steady himself.

“What’s this?” Gil asked. He stood and put a hand on Malcolm’s upper arm to help keep him upright. “One drink and you’re falling down?”

“I’m fine.” Malcolm assured him. “They must have giving me Adderall, or something at the hospital that’s reacting with the alcohol.”

“Yeah, you’re not getting yourself home like this.” Gil forced Malcolm back to the couch and pushed him to sit down. He pointed a finger in his face and ordered, “Stay.”

Malcolm frowned, but no good rebuttal came to his alcohol infused brain.

Gil went to his office door and said, “Call it a night Powell, you can finish your report tomorrow. It’s late. Go home.”

“You need any help with him?” Dani asked as she stood up.

“Nah, I’ll get him home.”

Malcolm didn’t like them talking about him as if he weren’t there. “I’m right here,” he said, but no one was listening. He looked to the door and saw no one. “Gil?” he asked. He tried to stand again, but he wobbled and sank back down to the couch. Then Gil was next to him again, holding a mug.

“Here. Drink this.”

Malcolm’s nose wrinkled at the bitter smell of day old police station coffee.

“I’ll help.” Gil sat next to him, and held the coffee to his lips.

“I doubt it,” Malcolm muttered before taking a sip to appease the older man. He swallowed it, made a face, and complained. “That’s horrible. How do you drink that?”

Gil put the mug in Malcolm’s hands, and patted his knee. “It grows on you.”

Malcolm skeptically took another sip. It wasn’t nearly as bad as the first sip.

Gil put an arm around Malcolm’s shoulders. “Wanna tell me why they let you out of the hospital if you’re still all drugged up?”

“Uh…”

“Maybe I should call your mother and-”

“No!” Malcolm said. He grasped Gil’s lapel in one hand and set the mug of coffee on the table with the other. “You can’t call her.”

“Well, I can, but I might not if you start talking to me.”

“Okay, I might have technically released myself from the hospital sooner than the doctor recommended, but I had to!”

“You had to?” Gil asked.

Pleased that Gil seemed to be agreeing, Malcolm nodded. “That’s right, I had to. They’d given me some kind of sedative, and I couldn’t wake up from…” He trailed off, realizing if he admitted what he couldn’t wake up from, that would open a whole other bag of worms.

“Couldn’t wake up from what, Bright?”

“Uh...” He was seriously regretting his decision to take the drink that Gil had offered him.

Gil moved his hand to the back of Malcolm’s neck and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “Are the night terrors getting worse?”

Malcolm couldn’t lie in the face of all the concern and love coming from Gil. He nodded.

Gil pulled him into a side hug. “I’m sorry, kid. I never should have let you see your father last week.”

Malcolm’s eyes burned. He whispered, “I saw him today.”

Gil pulled back so he could look Malcolm in the eyes. “What?”

Shaking his head, Malcolm looked away. “Nothing.”

“Hey.” Gil put his hands on Malcolm’s shoulders to keep him in place. “You want to see Martin today?”

Malcolm winced and nodded.

Gil’s eyes narrowed. “He’s the one who keeps calling, isn’t he?”

He nodded again, hating the look of disappointment he saw on Gil’s face.

“I asked you who called,” Gil said with accusation in his tone. “I knew it wasn’t a wrong call, but I let it go, because I assumed it was your mother or an old colleague from the FBI. If I’d had any idea it was Martin, we could have talked about it.” He gave Malcolm a tiny shake. “Instead you tried to deal with it yourself, and ended up going to see him.”

“I’m sorry!” Malcolm couldn’t stand Gil’s disappointment anymore. “I’ll just get a cab.” He pulled his shoulders away from Gil’s hands, stood, and had to put his arms out a bit to balance himself.

Gil stood as well, and grasped his upper arm again to help him balance. “I don’t think so, kid.”

Getting angry, Malcolm said, “I’m perfectly capable of getting myself home, Gil.” He tried to pull out of the older man’s grasp, but couldn’t.

To Malcolm’s utter shock, Gil smacked his backside hard.

“Gil!” He had no other words, because he couldn’t quite believe it had happened.

Gil smacked him again. “I don’t appreciate being lied to.”

Another hard smack lifted Bright onto his toes. “Ow!”

“I don’t appreciate being disobeyed, especially in the field.”

“Ow! Disobeyed?” Malcolm repeated incredulously. “I’m not a child!”

“Yeah, kid, I’m very aware. But guess what? I’m the team leader. Dani, JT, Edrisa, you, and the twenty other people at each crime scene all have to obey my orders when we’re in the field. Do you think you’re exempt?”

“No, but- Ow! Gil, stop!” Malcolm put a hand back to protect his backside from further swats.

“There’s no but, kid. You have to obey me. And if you think you’re exempt from the rules, then I’m going to treat you like my son instead of my employee.”

Gil swatted Malcolm’s thigh below the spot his hand was protecting.

“Ow! I never said I was exempt!”

“You’re right, you didn’t. You just acted like you were exempt all day.” Gil swatted his thigh again.

He moved his hand down to cover his thigh instead of his butt. “Gil! That’s enough! I get it okay! I’m not exempt!”

“I expect you to listen to me when I give you an order.”

“Ow! I will!”

“I expect you to follow your doctor’s advice, especially after almost getting yourself killed.”

“Ow! Gil come on!”

“And I expect you to tell me when you have contact with Martin!”

“Ow! Okay! I understand!” He put both hands back to cover as much of his backside and thighs as he could.

Gil turned him so they were facing each other, and held Malcolm by both shoulders. “I mean it, Bright. I’m not going to stand by and watch while you spiral out of control. You’re going to tell me about it when things go sideways. Do you hear me?”

Malcolm didn’t like the anger he saw in the older man’s eyes. “Yes, I hear you. I hear you loud and clear, Gil. I’m not exempt. I’m going to obey your orders, and I’m going to tell you when things get bad. I promise.”

After staring into Malcolm’s eyes for a couple of seconds, Gil must have seen sincerity, because he nodded, pulled the kid into a tight hug and said, “Good. I’m going to hold you to that.”

Malcolm tentatively let go of his backside and put his arms around Gil, grateful to be back in the older man’s good graces.

A few moments later, Gil pulled out of the hug and grasped Malcolm’s arm again.

Before Malcolm could panic, Gil said, “Come on, kid, let’s get you to my car so I can drive you home.”

Sighing with relief that Gil wasn’t planning on more swats, Malcolm nodded in agreement. “I’m more than ready to go home and try to get some sleep.”

“Me too,” Gil agreed, and helped Malcolm walk out of the office.

The End.

Author’s Note: A blurb for season 1 episode 3 ‘Fear Response’.
Disclaimer: I don’t own any of these characters, and I’m not making any money from this story.
Warning: Non-consensual spanking of an adult.

Gil kept replying his conversation with Jessica over and over again in his head as he sat as his desk. It had been over three years since the last time he’d seen her, and after a two-minute conversation the woman had gotten under his skin. She always did have a way of cutting through to the heart of the matter with few words. She’d asked him to help her with Malcolm, and he’d told her that Malcolm was going to do whatever he wanted, and that they couldn’t control him, and she’d said three words.

“Speak for yourself.”

Those three words had been circling through Gil’s head all day. He knew she tried to control her adult son with varying levels of success, but he didn’t want to control Bright. He wanted to gently guide Malcolm onto the right path with words and patience so that the kid could learn to control himself. But his methods had proved to be even less successful than Jessica’s so far.

Earlier today he’d almost killed one of the people they were trying to protect by knocking the man off a roof. He didn’t exactly blame Malcolm for elbowing the guy in the moment, but he did blame Malcolm for following Dani and JT up to that roof before they’d caught the killer instead of waiting for the all clear.

And then just a few hours ago according to JT, Malcolm had almost gotten shot by a woman high on LSD after almost getting stabbed by the killer. According to JT Malcolm had gone after the killer himself instead of staying put to protect the witness and waiting for JT to find a way in.

Gil shook his head. Maybe he should fire the kid just to keep him alive. That’s certainly what Jessica wanted him to do. But he honestly didn’t think that would keep Malcolm out of danger, because Bright seemed to be a magnet for it. Not to mention Malcolm never thought twice about putting himself in danger. At least if he was working for Gil, there was some semblance of rules that Malcolm knew he was supposed to follow, and the other members of the team would help keep the kid alive when he didn’t.

Tired of going over the same things in his head, Gil finished up his paperwork, closed up his office, and got in his car to go home. But he found himself driving towards Malcolm’s place instead home. Sighing, he figured he’d sleep better if he checked on the kid once, and maybe gave him a little lecture about waiting and having patience instead of running into danger.

Gil parked in front of Malcolm’s place and knocked on the door. It was well past midnight, but the kid almost never slept, so it put Gil on edge when no one answered. He knocked once more and then tried the door. It wasn’t locked. Frowning, Gil let himself in and drew his gun just in case. Maybe the dead man wasn’t the actual killer, and Malcolm was in danger.

Quickly making his way up the stairs, Gil’s eyes swept the dimly lit room. His heartrate calmed down once he saw Bright on his bed sleeping, and no other people in the loft. Gil put his gun away, took a deep breath, and shook his head. It wasn’t like Malcolm to sleep through a knock on the door, so he went to go check on him.

He walked over as silently as possible, hoping not to wake the sleeping man if nothing was amiss. He got to the bed and froze as his eyes scanned the scene. Malcolm wasn’t wearing his restraints, and there was a bottle of Chloroform on the nightstand.

It took Gil less than a second to put two and two together. He yanked the pillow away from Malcolm’s head, and carefully took a small whiff to make sure his suspicions were correct. He tossed the pillow onto the floor away from them, held his breath, and leaned down to check Malcolm’s pulse.

Once he felt the slow and steady pulse, Gil could breathe again. He sat down on the edge of the bed, legs a bit shaky now that he knew the kid was alive. He put a hand on Malcolm’s shoulder and squeezed it gently.

“What the hell were you thinking, kid?” Gil asked.

Malcolm’s eyes were moving rapidly under his eyelids. “Mom?” he mumbled in his sleep.

Gil rubbed the boy’s back in comfort and thought over his conversation with Jessica once again.

“Malcolm Bright does whatever Malcolm Bright wants to do. We can’t control him.”

“Speak for yourself.”

Gil looked down at Malcolm, who looked impossibly young in sleep. Maybe it was time to admit his gentle guidance wasn’t working. Maybe it was time to step in and insert a bit more control and authority before Bright killed himself.

Gil glared over at the chloroform laced pillow, and clenched his jaw with resolve. It may not be what Jessica would want, but Gil suspected it would do wonders for Malcolm’s lack of self-preservation.

“Mom!” Malcolm yelled as he sat up in bed. His eyes darted around the room wildly.

“Easy, kid,” Gil put a hand on the younger man’s shoulder. “It was just a dream.”

Malcolm blinked a few times and shook his head. “Gil?”

“That’s right.”

Frowning, Malcolm looked down at his un-cuffed wrists, then at the nightstand with the bottle of chloroform, then at the bed where the pillow had been, and finally he froze when his eyes landed on the pillow that was on the floor.

Gil could practically see the cogs turning in Bright’s head, and knew without a doubt that he was lucid. Either he hadn’t dosed himself with much of the stuff, or Malcolm’s daily prescription drug cocktail negated whatever side effects chloroform normally produced.

Malcolm slowly faced Gil. Guilt, worry, and nervousness were written all over the boy’s face. The kid clearly knew he’d done something wrong.

“Uh… hey, Gil. What ah… what are you doing here?”

Gil shook his head, pointed to the pillow, and glared at the kid. “What the hell did you do?”

Wincing, Malcolm focused in the pillow instead of Gil. His voice was barely above a whisper as he confessed. “I was talking to Dr. Brown before the LSD took effect. She said triggering olfactory memories can be strong enough to bring up buried trauma. I remembered that Dad had used chloroform on me once so I…” He turned back to Gil and shrugged. “…thought it would help me remember.”

Gil could see the earnestness in Malcolm’s eyes, and knew without a doubt that the boy hadn’t once thought of his own safety when coming up with this plan. That only steeled his resolve. He stood and motioned for Malcolm to do the same. “Get up.”

Frowning in confusion, Malcolm stood up next to Gil.

Grabbing Malcolm’s upper arm, Gil pointed a finger in his face and said, “I have had it with you putting your life in danger, kid. If you won’t do the bare minimum to keep yourself safe, then I’m going to give you an incentive to start.”

Having said that, Gil sat back down and yanked Malcolm down and forward so that he fell across Gil’s lap. Malcolm’s upper half was on the bed, his feet were on the floor, and his butt was in prime spanking position over Gil’s thigh.

Malcolm grunted in surprise as he fell, and then froze when he realized the position he was in.

“Gil?”

For someone who’d almost died at least three times that day, the kid sounded awfully worried over his current position. Good. Gil hoped Malcolm would be unhappy enough about the whole thing to avoid it in the future.

Gil shucked the boy’s sweats down, expecting there to be some underwear, but apparently the kid was going commando tonight. He hadn’t exactly planned on having the kid bare assed over his lap, but there was no going back now.

“Gil!” Malcolm protested. “What are you doing?” He tried to push himself up off the mattress.

“Malcolm!” Gil said sharply, hoping the use of his real name would startle the kid for a moment. Malcolm froze again, and Gil wrapped his arm around Malcolm’s waist to keep him down. “I am not going to sit by and watch you throw yourself into one dangerous situation after another without doing something about it.”

Gil started swatting hard and fast before he lost his nerve.

“Gillll!” Malcolm protested yet again, squirming and pushing to get away.

Shaking his head, Gil held Malcolm’s waist tight and continued to pepper the kid’s backside with rapid fire spanks.

“Gil, stop!” Malcolm tried to roll away. When that didn’t work he tried pushing away again. “You’re hurting me!”

“Better than you hurting yourself,” Gil said loudly as he continued the spanking. He concentrated on turning Malcolm’s bottom a uniform shade of pink from the crest of his backside down to his upper thighs.

Very suddenly, Malcolm stopped trying to push away.

Gil paused the spanking and heard a hitched breath. He looked over and saw Malcolm’s shoulders shake with tears. Gil closed his eyes for just a moment. He’d expected tears. He’d even told himself this wouldn’t be over until there were tears. But that didn’t make it easy to hear. Gil reminded himself that he was doing this to keep Malcolm alive, and found the resolve to continue.

Glancing down at Malcolm’s upper half he said, “You could have died three times today.”

“Three?” Malcolm asked through his tears.

“You went up on the roof with Dani and JT without waiting for the all clear. That’s one.” Using the same rapid fire smacks, Gil doled out ten.

“Ow! Gil!”

Gil paused. “Instead of staying put and waiting for JT to get in the house, you went to find the killer in the house by yourself. That’s two.”

Malcolm cried through the lecture, and made a halfhearted escape attempt when Gil said the word ‘two’. Then he yelped through the next ten smacks.

Pausing once more, Gil said, “Then to top off your day, you decided to chloroform yourself! You should have at the very least had someone here to make sure you didn’t have some kind of adverse reaction. That’s three.”

“Gil, please don’t!” Malcolm begged as Gil raised his hand again.

“Sorry kid, but this is for your own good.” Gil started spanking again, but didn’t stop at ten smacks this time.

“Oww!” Malcolm’s legs started to twitch and kick in reaction to the pain. “I’m sorry!”

Gil kept swatting until he’d reached a full thirty for the last round. Bright’s entire backside was a solid shade of red, and his crying appeared to be genuinely remorseful.

Gil stopped holding Malcolm down, and started rubbing his back. “Okay kid, all done.”

Malcolm’s entire body sagged down across Gil’s lap. “I’m sorry,” he said again through his tears.

“What are you sorry for?” Gil asked.

“F-For putting m-myself in d-danger.”

“That’s good. I’m glad you’re sorry about it, and I hope you don’t do it again. But I’m warning you right now, Malcolm, I’m done standing by and doing nothing. If you put yourself in danger again, you can expect another trip over my knee. Have I made myself clear?”

Malcolm’s breath hitched again as he nodded. “Y-Yes. Very clear.”

“I’m glad we have an understanding.” Gil patted his back once more, and then took his hands off him. “Get up and fix your pants.”

Malcolm quickly pushed himself up, grabbed his sweats from around his ankles, and pulled them up to cover himself. He put both hands on his backside and tried to rub out the sting.

Gil stood up and Malcolm took a step back.

“Hey, look at me,” Gil said.

Malcolm’s teary eyes met his.

“I sincerely hope we never have to do this again.” He took a step towards the spooked looking kid, and Malcolm stayed where he was. Gil put a gentle hand on Malcolm’s shoulder. “Believe it or not, this sucked for me, too. I don’t want to be your disciplinarian. I want to be your friend and your mentor. But I refuse to watch you self-destruct.”

Malcolm wiped some of the tears off his face and nodded. “I understand. I don’t like it, but I understand. I know you wouldn’t have resorted to physical punishment unless you felt like there was no other way to get through to me.” A few new tears ran down his cheeks. “I’m sorry.”

“Okay, I forgive you.” Gil pulled him into a hug. “But it had better not happen again.”

Malcolm hugged him back tightly. “It won’t.”

Gil hoped so, but he had his doubts.

The End.

Author’s Note: A blurb for season 1 episode 4 ‘Designer Complicity’. The first few lines of dialogue come straight from the show.
Disclaimer: I don’t own any of these characters, and I’m not making any money from this story.
Warning: A few non-consensual swats to an adult.

Malcolm heard a knock on his door and answered it. He wasn’t exactly expecting Gil to stop by after the case had been solved, but he wasn’t exactly surprised either.

“Whiskey?” he offered.

Gil accepted and gave him an update on the case.

“You didn’t come here to tell me that,” Malcolm said.

“Right again. So why don’t you tell me why I’m here, Sherlock Freud,” Gil teased.

The two men went to sit in Malcolm’s living room with Gil on the easy chair next to the couch, and Malcolm on the couch. “Well you know I’ve been off my game, you know I’ve been seeing my father, and you know about my mother’s new role in my nightmares.”

Gil took a sip of his alcohol. “Damn, you are a good profiler. Guess I can’t fire you.”

Malcolm looked up with puppy dog eyes. “You want to?”

“Not usually, no. Lately though…” Gil trailed off.

Sighing, Malcolm tried for what seemed like the tenth time that day to convince his mentor to let him see the evidence tape of his mother’s statement after his father was arrested. “I need to know the truth, Gil. If my mother… If she knew.” Malcolm shook his head. If his mother had known that his father was killing people before the arrest, that would change everything. “I have to see that tape.”

Gil sighed, pulled the tape out of his pocket, and handed it over. “You sure you want to see this?”

Malcolm put his hand on the tape and nodded. “I have to.”

Gil sat back. “Go ahead then. Put it in.”

Frowning Malcolm said, “Uh… I’d rather watch it alone.”

“It’s evidence, Bright. I’m not letting it out of my sight until it’s back in the evidence locker where it belongs. So if you want to see it, this is your chance.”

With a huff, Malcolm went over, and put the tape in his player. He stood next to the television to block Gil’s presence out while he focused on his mother. She looked so young and distraught, Malcolm had the urge to comfort her. Ironic after their most recent confrontation where he’d accused her of knowing about the murders and she’d slapped him.

As his mother talked to the detectives onscreen, to Malcolm’s surprise, a much younger looking Gil appeared on screen with her, and did try to comfort her. At first it sounded like she had known what was going on, but then she confessed that she’d believed Martin was having an affair, and that she had no idea what he’d actually been doing. She broke down in tears onscreen, and Malcolm felt tears rolling down his own face along with hers.

He saw nothing but sincerity in her actions, and he knew without a shadow of a doubt that she’d been completely unaware of her husband’s propensity towards murder. Guilt bubbled up inside Malcolm’s chest. He’d accused his mother of knowing. Just like the hoards of socialites, reporters, and lawyers had all those years ago.

The tape stopped, and Malcolm turned around to see Gil holding the remote. “Satisfied?” Gil asked with a raised eyebrow.

Feeling even worse, Malcolm broke eye contact and nodded. Gil had told him and told him that his mother hadn’t known. He’d begged Malcolm to trust him, but he hadn’t.

Gil took the tape out, put it back in the case marked evidence, and put a hand on Malcolm’s shoulder. “I think an apology is due.”

Malcolm winced. “I’m sorry, Gil. I should have trusted you.”

“Not me, kid.”

Frowning, Malcolm cocked his head to the side and tried to figure out who else needed an apology.

Pursing his lips, Gil said, “Jessica called me to let me know she’d talked to Martin and had you taken off the visitor list. She also told me what you said to her.”

“Oh.” Malcolm cringed. “I’ll uh… I’ll talk to her tomorrow morning.”

Gil shook his head, stuck the tape back in his pocket, and then grabbed Malcolm’s upper arm in one hand and swatted his backside with his free hand.

“Hey!” Malcolm protested, pulling his arm out of Gil’s grip and stepping back a few paces. “What the hell, Gil? Am I wearing a sign that says ‘hit me’ or something? You of all people should know that you can’t just go around assaulting people.”

Gil pointed a finger at the younger man and said, “You accused your mother of covering for your father while he committed murders. You’re going to go apologize to your mother right now, or there’s going to be a lot more assaulting going on.”

Malcolm scowled at the older man. It wasn’t that he disagreed. He fully planned to apologize to his mother. He just didn’t think it needed to be right this second. And he didn’t want to give Gil the idea that he could just swat him like a three-year-old and expect obedience. But these were unusual and unofficial circumstances.

Apparently he’d taken too long to decide, because Gil moved forward purposefully.

”Okay, okay,” Malcolm held his hands up in a placating gesture. “I’ll go apologize to her tonight.”

Gil kept coming, grabbed Malcolm’s upper arm again, and smacked his backside hard six times.

“Ow! Gil!” Malcolm protested as he tried to twist his body and arm away.

Gil stopped smacking, but kept a grip on Malcolm’s arm. “Put that big brain of yours to use and profile your mother on your way to her place. Maybe then you’ll be able to understand why I’m so disappointed in you.”

Before Malcolm could answer, Gil gave him one more smack and let him go.

“Ow!”

“Get a move on before I decide that wasn’t enough.”

Malcolm rushed to the front door.

Gil yelled after him. “And I plan to call Jessica first thing tomorrow morning to make sure you’ve apologized. Don’t bother coming back to work if you haven’t.”

Still in shock at this bizarre new behavior from Gil, Malcolm walked out the door, and quickly hailed a cab. On the ride to his mother’s house, he did start to profile his mother. He’d done it before a few times early on when he was first learning about profiling. But this time he tried to look at her more objectively. He tried to see her the way Gil did.

His mom had been innocent. She’d thought his father was cheating, and drank because of it. Then when all hell broke loose, she’d had to keep it together to face the press, her friends, her family, and to protect her children from as much of it as she could. Gil had known from the very first night that Jessica was innocent. That’s why he’d kept in contact all these years, and why he’d taken Malcolm under his wing to help fill the void Martin had left.

By accusing Jessica of knowing, Malcolm had basically spit on both of the people who’d done everything in their power to protect him and raise him to be a good man. He deserved what Gil had given him and more. By the time the cab made it to his mother’s home, Malcolm was more than ready to apologize.

As luck would have it, his mother wasn’t at home. It took an hour to track her down, but eventually he found her doing charitable work anonymously as usual. Feeling even worse, Malcolm apologized sincerely, and his mother easily forgave him. He certainly didn’t feel as though he deserved her forgiveness, but he was grateful to have it.

He went home, and breathed sigh of relief when he found the loft empty. If Gil had still been there, he might have begged his forgiveness as well. He got ready for bed, and hoped that Gil wouldn’t bring it up again tomorrow. Malcolm wanted to put this whole horrible day behind him and start fresh.

The End.

Author’s Note: A blurb for season 1 episode 5 ‘The Trip’.
Disclaimer: I don’t own any of these characters, and I’m not making any money from this story.
Warning: Non-consensual spanking of an adult.

Gil sat at his desk drinking a cup of coffee, and wondering what he was going to do about his problem children. Last night both Dani and Malcolm had disobeyed direct orders. He’d expressly told them not to go to the club, and yet both of them had gone anyway. And to top it off they’d been caught in the middle of a shootout, and Malcolm had inhaled a bunch of cocaine dust that had been floating in the air.

He’d been too pissed at both of them to deal with them that night. He’d put Dani on babysitting duty to keep Malcolm out of trouble until he came down, so that he and JT could do the actual police work.

Dani walked into Gil’s office looking guilty and apologetic. Gil sighed. “How’s Malcolm?”

“As normal as he gets.”

Gil nodded. “Good.”

Dani looked him in the eyes and said, “I shouldn’t have broken rank and gone to the club. Especially after you’d expressly told us not to. It was a bad call on my part, and it won’t happen again.”

Gil leaned forward. “I understand why you wanted to go. I know what the club owner did for you back when you were in narcotics. But that’s why I told you not to go.”

She nodded. “I know, and I’m sorry.”

Gil sat back and sighed. “I’m not going to write you up this time, but if there’s a next time, I will.”

“Yes, sir.”

Considering the matter done, Gil gave her some updates on the case, and gave her an assignment. Once that was done, he finished off his cup of coffee and picked up his phone to call his other problem child.

“Hey Gil, what’s up?” Malcolm answered sounding especially chipper.

Gil shook his head. At least Dani had the sense to appear contrite when she walked in. “Where are you, kid.”

“I stopped by my mom’s house to pick something up. I should be there in about half an hour.”

“Meet me at your loft in twenty instead.”

“My loft?” Malcolm asked, a hint of nervousness creeping into his voice.

“Malcolm,” Gil chided. “You disobeyed a direct order last night. What did you think was going to happen?”

“But I only went because I knew Dani was going to go!”

“Just because Dani goes off the rails, doesn’t mean you get a free pass when you go with her.”

“But I was protecting her!”

Gil shook his head. Of course Malcolm was going to be difficult. “If you really wanted to protect her, you would have called me to let me know your suspicions. You wanted to prove you were right, and you didn’t think I’d punish you for it since Dani disobeyed me, too. But you thought wrong. Loft. Twenty minutes.”

“Gil,” he whined plaintively.

“If you prefer, we can take care of your punishment in one of the interrogation rooms.” It was a bluff, but he doubted Malcolm would push.

“No,” Malcolm capitulated. “I’ll see you at the loft.”

Gil hug up, sighed, and headed to meet his wayward consultant. It was best not to let Malcolm stew for too long. Back when Malcolm was a teen, impending punishments would bring tears and begging. Since growing up and coming back to the NYPD as a consultant for Gil, impending punishments usually brought wheedling and arguing. But Gil wasn’t swayed. It had taken a couple of years’ worth of consistency on Gil’s part to get teenage Malcolm to think before he acted. He wasn’t sure how long it took for Malcolm to lose that forethought when rushing into danger while he worked for the FBI, but Gil liked to think it took quite a while. It might take another two years of consistency on Gil’s part to retrain the young man, but Malcolm was worth it.

As soon as Gil stepped into the loft, Malcolm said, “It’s not fair.”

Gil closed the door behind him, locked it, and took a deep breath before facing the distraught young man.

“What’s not fair?”

“You’re not going to spank Dani.”

He tried to hold it in, but a chuckle slipped past his lips.

Malcolm crossed his arms and scowled.

“You’ve got me there, kid. I’m not.” Gil went to stand next to the back of the couch. “Do we have to play the game where I tell you why?”

Malcolm didn’t answer, just continued to scowl.

Gil put a hand up and ticked off his fingers as he made his points. “I didn’t help raise her from the age of eleven. She’s never disobeyed me before. She doesn’t have a well-documented history of changing her behavior after physical correction. And she’s my employee not my family.” Having made his points, Gil pointed to one of Malcolm’s kitchen cupboards beside the stove. “Bring me the paddle.”

“I don’t have a well-documented history of changing my behavior after physical correction!”

Gil rolled his eyes. “We both know that’s not true, even if you want it to be. We’re wasting time, kid. I’ve got a new lead. I’d like you to work it with Dani tonight, but that’s not happening until this is done. And unlike when you were a teen, I’m not going to force you over my lap and give you a few swats with my hand. So get the paddle and come here if you want to continue working for me.”

“You’ve got a new lead?” Malcolm asked.

“I do.” Gil raised an eyebrow expectantly.

“Shit,” Malcolm muttered. He went to the cupboard, pulled out a thin wooden cutting board that had never been used for it’s designed purpose, and walked over to stand beside Gil.

Gil held his hand out. Pouting Malcolm handed the dreaded implement over.

Gil nodded his head towards the couch. “Bend over.”

Cringing, Malcolm leaned down over the back of the couch and put his hands on the couch cushions. He muttered, “I think I liked it better when you forced me over your lap.”

“Submitting to your own punishment is going to help it stick faster,” Gil assured him. He put a hand on Malcolm’s lower back to both comfort and keep him down. “Ten.”

“Ten?” Malcolm whined. “What happened to six?”

“You didn’t just disobey me impulsively the heat of the moment. This was premeditated. You thought it over, decided not to call me, and went to that club after I told you not to. I’m not happy with you, kid.”

Gil smacked the paddle across Malcolm’s backside.

“Ow!”

Gil waited a moment to let Malcolm settle before landing another spank. Over the next couple of minutes, the only sounds in the loft were loud cracks when the paddle landed, and loud exclamations of pain directly after.

After the last smack landed, Gil patted Malcolm’s back. “Okay up you go.”

Sniffling and wiping some stray tears off his face, Malcolm stood and looked up at Gil with sorrowful eyes. “I’m sorry.”

Gil set the paddle on the couch and pulled Malcolm into a hug. “I know you are, kid. You’re going to do better next time, aren’t you?”

“Yes.” Malcolm hugged him tight.

After a few moments of mutual comfort, Gil patted Malcolm’s back again and let go. He pointed to the paddle. “Put that away, go wash your face, and then I’ll drive you to work.”

Malcolm did as he was asked, and soon they were on their way to the precinct with Malcolm asking about the new lead for the case.

The End.