Archive of Our Own

It was another day in Santa Barbara. Hot, full of sweaty people, nearly naked women, and screaming kids running around the streets. And while Lassiter could bear the latter in a normal situation when he could just close the window, unfortunately the situation was not so easy. These “children” had full and legal admission to the station, a unique talent to piss off… and were thirty years old. To make matters worse, their playground was dangerously close to his desk.

The man's eyebrow twitched in a nervous, pissed off tic as he struggled to focus on writing his report, ignoring airplane throwing, gummy bears, and rolly chair racing. He took a deep breath. He closed his eyes, deciding, following the stupid advice of life coaches, to find his "happy place." He imagined himself strangling Shawn Spencer with his bare hands. A small sigh passed his lips as the detective was finally perfectly peaceful. He breathed more calmly and even smiled slightly as he returned to work filling out reports on the last kidnapping case of a ten year old girl.

Suddenly he heard a loud screech, the source of which was approaching him dangerously fast, becoming louder and louder as it did so. Lassiter frowned, having more and more desire to turn his happy place of imagination into a real life scenario. He had not yet realized what was really going on, and not until he heard that long, high pitched scream.

“Aaaaarrhhh, Laaaassieee!” Shawn howled in warning a second before running straight into the dark haired man with all his impetus, riding high speed on a swivel chair. 

The desk shifted a half foot, his perfect full coffee mug toppled over, flooding the desk, the hours of written reports, and his pants. Lassiter did not manage to counteract the coffee attack. He only stared in pissed disbelief at the stained documents and his lap. He sucked in a breath, and his eyebrow twitched. He jumped up from the desk. “Spencer!”, He growled aggressively and grabbed him by Shawn’s rumpled shirt, pulling him up from the chair. “What the fuck are you doing?!”

Shawn groaned and squeezed his eyes shut, his hands raised defensively. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! It's Gus. It's his fault!” Shawn shouted and pointed with his finger at where his friend stood a moment ago, who pushed him perfidiously. But there was no one there; Gus prudently got out of sight, or perhaps the police station. Shawn blinked while the older man chilled him with a furious glare. He even seethed like an animal ready to charge.

"That vile traitor," Shawn hissed. He cleared his throat and looked at the detective with an innocent smile. "Em, don't worry, I'll get you some new coffee, Lassie. Three creamers, four sugars, right?”

If eyes could kill, Shawn would be dead several times over. Lassiter stared at him murderously. “I don't care about fucking coffee! Start thinking, you idiot, and go away”, the angry dark haired man growled. He tugged on Shawn’s tee to toss him outside the station door like a bag of trash. 

It didn't make sense for Shawn to struggle, he just gasped loudly. He was stumbling beside the Head Detective, almost dragged across the ground, he could barely move his feet. “Lassie, don't worry! You look so sexy in wet pants, you know! The fabric stuck to your body fits nicely around those muscular thighs”, he said with a smile. 

Lassiter growled low. “Shut up.”

Shawn narrowed his eyes. “Alternatively, if you want, I can help you clean them,” he muttered coquettishly and licked his lips, which sounded like he was offering to do it with his own tongue. 

Lassiter felt a growing fury at the jokes and mockery. He turned to him sharply and pulled him very close to him. Their lips almost touched, and Shawn had a chance to see those angry, icy eyes up close. The Detective's nostrils were moving like an animal in a fury. "I said, shut up, Spencer," he drawled. “So shut the fuck up.”

Shawn purred and grinned. “Why don't you shut me up yourself, Lassie?”, He murmured and licked his lips again. He could not be more obvious. Is it any wonder he felt excited when he was so close to this tall drink of man water? The fury in his eyes seemed to crawl down the spine of the "psychic".

Lassiter frowned and snorted mockingly. "I didn't get my gag out of the car." He jerked Shawn, knocking him out the door onto the street. "Go play with the other children where you belong. And I swear if I see you at the station again today, I will shoot you."

Shawn groaned as he took a few steps to regain his balance. He turned to look at Lassiter, but the door closed behind him was all he could see.

***

They waited a long time for this drug bust, gathered information, and worked in the field undercover. The entire precinct was alive with today's sting. Eventually, they would wipe out one of Santa Barbara's greatest drug lords, Aleix Quevedo. He had been in Mexico for the past week, now rechecking his interests. This was their chance. They had only one; right after today's meeting, Quevedo was due to return to Mexico. They needed irrefutable proof that would put him behind bars for a long time, and such proof would be the goods seized today. Everyone was gathered around the building, Lassiter, Juliet, McNab, even the Chief herself. They had to act carefully to catch Quevedo and his dealers red handed. Until then, we had to wait. Delivery was scheduled shortly.

Lassiter watched the smugglers' hideout through binoculars from the nextdoor building, a walkie talkie clutched in his hand. Everyone waited for his signal. Suddenly he saw movement inside and looked at his fellow officers, gesturing with his hand to make everyone stop moving and be quiet. He listened and watched and waited for Quevedo.

Quevedo and his thugs drew their weapons when one of the bodyguards suddenly burst in with Shawn Spencer and Burton Guster, “Found these two outside, Boss.” The resident psychic smiled innocently, nervously until he was struck by a gun and saw stars. Spitting blood on the ground from a busted lip, his balance wavered. 

Lassiter saw the gun collide with Spencer’s face and cursed when he felt his heart rate kick up. Feeling pissed and nervous, he fought a great desire to shoot someone. Two "someones," in fact. And here, unfortunately, no happy place could help him calm down. "Those idiots!" He growled, throwing the binoculars, which would have shattered if Juliet hadn’t caught them. Lassiter reached for the vest to put it on without asking the Chief's opinion, much less her permission. "I'm going in." It's hard to tell if he wanted to help them or just kill them himself.

"Carlton!" Juliet exclaimed, jumping up. " You can't go there alone! There are too many of them! They will shoot Shawn and Gus or you! Probably all three of you!"

"I'll take that risk," the detective replied coldly. Right now, he'd love to see the two idiots shot down... though he definitely didn't want those criminals to shoot them. But if they happened to get in the way of friendly fire, it would just be a happy coincidence.

"Lassiter! What's going on?!" The Chief's voice came over the walkie talkie.

Juliet grabbed it. "Chief, Carlton wants to go in alone! Gus and Shawn are inside!"

"What?!" She muttered a soft curse and took a few seconds to think. As much as it angered her to put the plan in jeopardy, the safety of civilians was more important than the operation's success, even if it was condemning her. "Detective. We're on. Go, go, go!"

Lassiter was furious about the premature building breach. "To all units: we’re a go. Right now!" he announced sharply, then grabbed his gun and immediately moved to the exit of the building to join the action.

***

Two hours later, it was over, and Shawn and Gus were sitting in the interrogation room, driven there in Buzz's police car like criminals. The dealers were arrested, but the exchange did not occur since there were no drugs in the hideout. Except for threatening civilians with weapons, no further charges could be brought against them.

"It's your fault, Shawn! I told you not to go in there! I told you, let's call someone!"

"Gus, you didn't say it, you screamed it. It was because of you that they heard us!"

“Because you blocked your ears and started to sing ‘la la la I can't hear you'! And how could you not know about the drug sting?! This time we will be arrested for obstruction for sure! Oh god, I'm gonna lose my job. They won't want a criminal to sell pharmaceuticals", Gus panicked.

Shawn huffed and sat back, arms crossed over his chest. His lip was swollen and cracked from the impact of a gun. "Relax, Gus, and don't be a Lady Gaga's meat suit. They can't arrest us."

"Oh, I definitely can," Lassiter said ominously, sliding inside. Alone, without Juliet, who at least could try to smooth the situation and prevent blows. Lassiter leaned over and hit the table, pissed off. "I thought we should just shoot you idiots, but a couple of weeks of sleeping in cells with prisoners for obstruction and screwing up my sting sounds fine as a last resort. What do you think?" He asked icily.

Gus looked fearful, but Shawn still had a confident, calm expression. "Lassie!" He exclaimed and smiled happily as if nothing had happened at all. Lassiter made a growling grunt, sucked in a breath, and stared at him chillingly. He looked like a rabid animal. "I am sorry, buddy. But first, we didn't know about your sting. We worked on our own intel. Second, there were no "do not enter" signs anywhere or anything. So how were we supposed to know? The spirits told me nothing. Why didn't you? I thought we were a team, dude!" 

"Are you asking me or your idiotic spirits?" Lassiter mocked. He snorted. "I don't have time to play with you, Spencer. Now I have to find another way to put a fucking drug lord behind bars in forty eight hours because you two morons shit all over a drug bust I've been planning for months! So if I hear even one more word from either of you, you'll both end up in court on obstruction. Am. I. Clear?" He drawled, leaning over Shawn with a piercing, icy stare.

They looked at each other for a few seconds. Lassiter’s gaze was cold, furious, and Shawn’s calmer, confident in his irritating way. "Actually," Shawn began and lifted the corner of his mouth. "It's your fault you didn't secure the area well," he said. "Since we got in there, any other civilian could too. Your negligence put us in danger”, he said and pointed a finger at his bruised face, "I can accuse you of endangering our lives! If you had shared intel, this wouldn't have happened." He put on his most innocent smile.

"You know that's right!" Gus chimed in. He fell silent and regretted his words as a chilling gaze fell on him, like a predator contemplating choosing a target to kill. 

Lassiter stared at them coldly, furiously, but focused more on Shawn, with whom he was staring for a moment, and then he smiled unexpectedly. Venomously and cold. "Actually... that was more than one word", he said ominously, straightening up. "See you in court, idiots," he said at the end. 

Just then, suddenly, Juliet entered the room. "The Chief needs you with a report, Carlton," she said. She looked briefly at Shawn and Gus with a mixture of pity and sympathy, then left. 

Lassiter smiled in that fucking disturbing, murderous way, looking at the two idiots. And then he went out to leave them alone and let them panic at will. He headed for the Chief, but halfway realized he was missing something. He cursed as he realized he had left a report in the interrogation room. He sighed heavily and turned to go there.

The report was under the glass separating the interrogation room from the observation section. Lassiter took it, glancing at the two idiots. Surprisingly, they did not panic. Instead, they whispered softly to each other. The strangest thing, however, was that Spencer's face was serious and sad, with his head hanging slightly. Lassiter raised his eyebrows. He was about to ignore it and go, but the strange seriousness caught his attention. What were the idiots whispering about? What were they up to?

He pressed the audio release button, bringing his ear closer to the speaker. The private detectives were whispering softly to each other, but the wiretapping in the room was good, so he could hear everything. 

 "Dude. That guy hates you", Gus muttered.

"I wouldn’t say ‘hate’... I would say... more like... affectionate irritation?" Shawn replied.

" ‘Affectionate’?! He literally wants to see you in jail! Or being shot! If this is ‘affection’ for you, then I am afraid to ask what isn’t! Dude, you better find someone else. It makes no sense."

Shawn was silent for a long moment. Lassiter frowned, but he listened more closely, completely forgetting that he was in a rush to see the Chief. He didn't understand anything. What was that gibberish? And why were these idiots talking about it so seriously when this had nothing to do with reality?

Because it didn't. Of course it didn't.

Or maybe it did?

"There is no one better than Lassie," Shawn said after a moment, and smiled slightly, with sadness. Detective froze in shock, drawing air through his nostrils. His ego was flattered as hell, but shock was washing over him. What did Spencer mean?

"Then do something about it, because the way you picked is way gonna get a grave. For both of us!" Guster gasped softly. 

Shawn pursed his lips for a moment. He laced his fingers nervously. " ...I just don’t know how to tell him that I actually love him, Gus," he whispered.

Lassiter stiffened at that. His heart skipped a beat, then he began to pound faster, nervously. He dropped the briefcase with his report, raised his hand, and covered his mouth, which was idiotically parted in Shawn's fashion. "What the fuck...?" he asked himself aloud. He looked at Shawn, at his facial expressions, he saw his body language, every gesture, tone of voice.

Shawn wasn't lying. But how is that possible? What's that supposed to mean? He was confused.

"Well, I am sorry for being honest, Shawn, but it may be better if you don't pursue it at all," Gus muttered softly. He looked at his friend sympathetically, but knew he had to be the one to kick him in the butt. He couldn't bear to see his suffering. "If you do, then he will really shoot you. Leave it, Shawn", he said, and patted him on the shoulder. Lassiter frowned. Was he really seen this way? Of course he had threatened Shawn with a gun... about five times a day... but not because of a goddamn declaration of love from the faux psychic.

His heart skipped a beat at the thought of it. Declaration of love.

Shawn smiled sadly and ran his fingers through his hair.

"Yeah... I should, shouldn't I?" he muttered softly. Gus sighed.

"Besides, I have no idea what you see in him," he added, and Lassiter snorted. Shawn snorted at Gus at the same time.

"You kidding? He is a great detective, he is smart, strong, brave, adorably awkward, passionate in his crazy insane way, handsome, sexy… " he started to count. Lassiter stared at him, feeling both shock and warm, and his lips parted unconsciously in a smile. His ego purred with approval. Gus frowned.

"Okay, Shawn. That's enough. This wasn't an invitation to discussion."

"...his shoulders look great in a shirt and holster and his ass…"

"Enough, Shawn! I don't want to know!" 

Lassiter blinked. He stared in shock and disbelief at Shawn, stuck in place like a stake. He couldn't believe what he was just hearing, but at the same time... he'd be lying if he said he never considered it. On the contrary. He felt a hell of a lot of satisfaction and warmth. Although it shocked him even more than anything he had ever heard... he really liked it. Why was he so excited about the fucking idiot's words?

Smiling to himself, he looked down suddenly and shuddered at the dropped briefcase. He picked it up and after looking at Shawn for a longer moment, he finally made his way to the Chief, shocked and overwhelmed by all this information.

***

Later that day, Shawn and Gus were sitting in the Chief's office, hungry like wolves after going too long without any snacks or even a small pizza since their arrest.

"...three weeks with no cases" Vick said sternly. "And for these three weeks you have to clean the station daily. This is my only offer, gentlemen. It is a generous offer for the losses our police station suffered by your prank, and detective Lassiter he gave up his intention of bringing you to justice in court."

Shawn's eyes widened, straightening up in his chair.

Lassie gave up?

"But Chief!" he began, but the woman's cold glare made him shut up.

 “Am I clear?" the Chief asked.

" ...like butter, Chief," Shawn muttered then stood to leave the office. In the corridor, they were both pierced by the accusing gazes of the policemen still upset about the ruined bust. Gus also immediately killed Shawn with a glare.

"Great, Shawn! Three weeks with no cases! In that case, for the next three weeks I will be earning our rent on my second real job while you clean up the station and the mess you made!"

Shawn gasped. "What?! You aren't going to leave me here alone!" he squealed.

"Watch me," Gus replied. Then he walked toward the exit without a word. Shawn stayed in the corridor like an orphan, watching him go. After a moment his eyes fell on Lassiter sitting at the desk. Well… maybe it won't be that bad after all. 

As the Detective passed him a moment later, carrying a briefcase with documents, Shawn expected everything, every unflattering, hostile reaction he deserved today. But Shawn was definitely not prepared for what he heard.

Lassiter watched him long, piercingly, and intensely. "Spencer. That's a nice... almost clean t-shirt", he muttered remarkably unnaturally in a twisted but still complete compliment. As he passed, he cleared his throat awkwardly and slipped into Vick's office. 

Shawn's mouth dropped open and he pivoted on his heel, staring after him. He raised his eyebrows. " …what? He asked late, because the detective couldn't hear him anymore. He looked down at his t-shirt stained with his own blood, dust, dirt, and nachos cheese sauce. "Almost clean?” What the hell was that supposed to mean?

He finally decided that this must have been another strange taunt that he did not understand. Well, Lassie had a rather peculiar sense of humor and the people around him didn't always understand him. He sighed heavily, made a face of displeasure then turned to McNabb. "Buzz? Where do you have the mop, brooms and rags?" he asked.

***

Reluctantly, procrastinating and still distracted by just anything, Shawn set to work. He was washing the floors all over the station, speeding up the movements considerably only when the Chief's gaze fell on him, and slowing down as she looked away. Sometimes he was talking to someone or buying himself snacks from the vending machine. Every five minutes of work required a reward. "Oh gods, I'll get calluses!" He moaned loudly after two hours of cleaning and looked down at his poor, hard working hands.

"Hard work in silence, let success make the noise, Shawn," Jules replied, smiling slightly at him as she passed him with the pile of reports.

"Oh I assure you my success will make a lot of noise! Mostly crying and screaming in agony!" Shawn replied to her. After a moment he bit his lip and glanced at Lassiter. He approached him with the mop, pretending to concentrate on mopping the floor around his desk.

"Hey, Lassie!” He chirped suddenly with a smile, though hesitant. He walked cautiously towards the Detective’s desk, expecting him to still be immensely pissed off by the spoiling of a drug bust that should’ve been a great success for his career. But only a heavy sigh greeted him, which was a good sign, so he continued. "It's five o'clock. Maybe dinner break? I know a great bar nearby. If you like tacos. But who doesn't, am I right? On me.”

Lassiter stopped filling out the papers and froze, the ballpoint pen hanging above the paper. His heart skipped a beat. Was this supposed to be a... date? Did he misinterpret it by what he heard? Maybe Shawn just wanted to appease him somehow?

No, Shawn didn't do such things for no reason. Joking and quitting work were a good reason for this idiot, but for that he didn't have to get him out of here.

So a date. He was silent for a moment, and then... he nodded slightly, trying to be calm. "Fine. I have to finish this, so wait fifteen minutes. Then we will go.”

"Y'know what, Lassie, you could just once… " Shawn began grimly, but stopped when he realized what he just heard. He froze, parting his lips as he stared at the man. "Wait what? Really?" He asked quieter, more seriously, raising his eyebrows. He suddenly felt bloody insecure. He hadn't expected this. He was absolutely sure of the refusal. Just like last time. And the previous one. And a dozen or so before that.

Lassiter looked up at him, his eyebrows going up slowly, skeptically. Though he had to admit he felt a subtle hint of victorious satisfaction inside him at the sight of his surprise. "Do you want to go or not?"

Shawn blinked. " …Yes," he replied softly. " Yes! Yes I do", he added louder. "So... um... I will wait. Call me… when you finish", he muttered and skipped out of sight of the detective. His heart pounded with nervousness and shock. He had no idea why Lassiter agreed. Maybe he is finally going to shoot him in a remote area? He dismissed the idea as excitement filled him and smiled with satisfaction.

The detective followed him with his eyes, hanging them on him for a long moment. Then he parted his lips in a subtle smile.

It was almost a perfect fifteen minutes for the Detective to appear in front of Shawn, washing the floor, with his things. He raised his eyebrows at the effect of his work. "Mopping the floor is not supposed to be a puddle of water. Unless you want to knock out somebody's teeth and break a leg", he commented maliciously. 

Shawn glanced at him. "Well, you see, this is a special Scandinavian technique-..." he started.

Lassiter raised his eyebrows expectantly and cleared his throat. "So... are we going?"

"Yes! Yes, we are!" the boy replied and threw the mop in disgrace to the floor, leaving it in the middle of the corridor. He looked like a kid who had been promised a full day at the water park and then a meal at McDonald's. He was excited and nervous at the same time. He never expected something like this to happen, so he didn't know how to act. What to say so as not to alienate Lassie? So as not to piss him off, so that he does not leave during? Lassie was easy to annoy. "Nice weather, right? Sun is so ... bright today. And the air is so... warm and... airy… " he finally trailed off. 

Lassiter slowly raised his eyebrows in doubt, hearing this babbling. And then... he snorted, partly mocking, partly just amused. It was cute in some way. Despite everything.

Cute? Had he really just thought about this idiot? "Did you really ask me on a date just to talk about weather, Spencer?”

Shawn gasped in shock and his heart stopped for a moment. His eyes widened and he stopped for a second, staring at the Detective before he moved on, walking along the sidewalk of the police building.

"W-what? ‘A date’? Lassie, don't be ridiculous”, He laughed nervously and slipped his hands into his pockets. He began to look around with his eyes, so as not to look at Lassiter, and the latter was looking at him damn intently and penetratingly, even piercing him with those blue eyes right through. "Why would I? And why would you agree? It's just Dinner. You know. Two coworkers eating tacos together."

"Oh, so you didn't mean to ask me on a date?” Lassiter asked, not taking his eyes off him.

Shawn laughed mockingly. "Of course not!"

The detective stopped. His eyes narrowed. "Fine," he replied calmly. Then he turned away. "I'm going back to work. Since I was wrong and it's not a date."

Shawn froze, losing heart. He looked at his back in surprise. He didn't know what had just happened. "W-wait!" he exclaimed, though he had no idea what he really wanted to say or do. However, he did not want Lassie to leave. He blinked as Lassiter stopped and yes he did. "I asked you... to go out for dinner. Why did you think about it as a date?" He asked, feeling lost. The detective turned his head to look at him and raised his eyebrows expectantly.

"Isn't that what you’ve been trying to do all this time? Ask me on a date?"

Shawn's mouth dropped open at the direct statement. "I... well... yes... I have," he replied softly, feeling the warmth on his cheeks. 

Lassiter smiled victoriously as he finally pulled it out of him. "Was it that hard, you idiot?" He asked rhetorically, mockingly.

"But you... why did you agree today, so suddenly? You should be mad at me, I ruined your big case and... " Shawn started, but stopped suddenly. He gasped as he understood. "Oh god, I was right. You are gonna murder me!"

Lassiter's eyebrows went even higher, skeptical, and he looked at him as if he were an idiot. So... Well, nothing new. "Yes, Spencer. I am gonna murder you", he drawled. "After everyone saw me going out to dinner with you. Are you an idiot or are you an idiot?" He snorted.

Shawn was too stunned to answer and just stared at him as if seeing him for the first time. Lassiter rolled his eyes, but strode back toward him and grabbed his t-shirt to drag him unceremoniously on, toward the taco pub they were approaching. Shawn followed him. They walked in silence. 

Psychic kept glancing at Lassiter intently, slightly panicking inside. He had no idea what was going on. Lassiter acted as if he had been kidnapped by aliens and brainwashed. Besides... if it were a date, Shawn would have gotten a haircut, picked a better place, and worn something other than a t-shirt streaked with blood, salsa, dust and dirty mop water. He felt nervous.

Upon arrival, Shawn, surprisingly, didn't rush to the cash register to order food, but stopped and glanced questioningly at the detective, who looked as if he didn't know what to do with himself after he was no longer mocking him about how easy this dating is. 

He replied reluctantly to his gaze. "Soo… " he began eminently awkwardly, looking around the interior of the pub for a moment, as if trying to find himself "what do you recommend? You said you knew this place well.”

Shawn raised his eyebrows at that. He definitely preferred a Lassiter a little off kilter. Confident Lassie intimidated him and completely did not fit the situation. "Well... actually I recommend everything. My favorite tacos are with pineapple if you like. Meatball has three types of meat. Beef'n'Green has so many vegetables that it crunches. The Highway to Hell is sharp, it will really send you to Hell. Cheese Flamenco has a lot of cheese, I think four types, it's great... " he began to explain, glancing at the price list above the cash registers.

The bar was small, rather flimsy, it was hot inside and smelled of old grease. But Lassiter was lost enough in the situation that he didn’t complain or even notice. He nodded. "I'll take the Meatball with the double beef," he said finally, after a moment of silence and analyzing what he heard. 

Shawn raised his eyebrows. "Lassie, there's so much meat in the normal version that it overspills. It won't be a taco anymore. It will be a pile of meat with a tortilla on top.” 

Lassiter frowned as he was driven into pride. "Are you questioning my choice of tacos, Spencer?" he asked brusquely. If he wanted to eat a double beef taco, he will eat a fucking double beef taco. "I fucking like meat. Is it a problem for you?"

Shawn blinked at the aggressive attack, as if he had suggested to Lassiter that he was a vegan or a hippie. He held up his hands defensively. "Woah, calm down and cool your pants, Lassie! You asked me about my opinion, so I told you. I don’t care if you swim in meat", he replied. Preferably naked.

The man stared at him warningly. He snorted softly under his breath. "I made my choice, I did not ask for your opinion."

"Actually you asked for a recommendation…" Shawn grunted softly.

The detective cleared his throat. "Do you want... stay and eat here? Or will we order to go?"

Shawn shrugged his shoulders. "Whatever you want. This isn't exactly a very nice bar to be in. It always stinks of grease and plaster is falling from the ceiling. But there are tables outside, and it’s such a nice day", he said. He walked over to the bar and placed both orders paid for with Gus’s card. After five minutes, the meals were ready. Shawn took his plate with three normal tacos and went outside to sit at a shaded table in a corner. Lassiter joined him with his own taco, resembling a volcano eruption. Shawn knew without a fork (and who eats tacos with a fork) Lassie’s meal was definitely impossible to eat without being completely covered in meat. 

One glance and Lassiter knew it too. But he would be damned if he admit the younger man was right. He cleared his throat as he sat down. They stood there for a moment in eminently awkward silence. "You made friends with the mop yet? You will spend a lot of time with him now", asked the detective. 

Shawn lifted the corner of his mouth. "Well, to be honest, I'm a mop master. I worked as a cleaner in Florida. I was cleaning the enclosures for penguins. Dude, if I could clean their shit, I'll clean yours too", he snorted, unbothered by poop talk while eating. He took a bite of his taco. His plate looked like something had just been sprinkled with pineapple and drowned in cheese. 

Lassiter snorted softly in mockery. “Yes, the trail of puddles you’re leaving shows how well you’re doing," he bit.

"As I said! Scandinavian technique! The more water, the better the effects!" Shawn replied and took another bite of the taco. "And at least I can be close for three whole weeks, so you won't dry out from longing," he added playfully, in his usual ala’flirty silliness, and smiled from the corner of his mouth. 

Lassiter rolled his eyes and snorted softly. "I would take a vacation, but I have to watch you, idiot." It will be a miracle if the station doesn't go on fire because of you.”

Shawn blinked. "You, vacation? Lassie, I thought you didn't have that word in your dictionary!" He announced with amusement.

"I have at the moment when I have the prospect of three weeks to spend with you."

Shawn’s smile started to fade, but he tapped down his disappointment, holding the mask. He remembered that Lassie didn't like him after all, which was no news. Gus was right. He should give up and start dating again. He suddenly became serious and cleared his throat. "Lassie, there is something I wanna tell you."

Lassiter froze, staring at him more closely. His heart skipped a beat. Was Shawn going to tell him he loved the Detective? Over a damn taco? "Do you mean... ‘now’, Spencer? Do you wanna tell me right now?" he asked idiotically in disbelief, tense. Lassiter was completely not ready for it and started to panic, although he already knew about everything.

Shawn raised his eyebrows, surprised by his reaction. "Err... Yes? That's what I said", he replied. He looked into his blue eyes. "I didn't mean to spoil your sting. Really. I didn't know. It was not on purpose. And I am sorry", he said softly. 

Lassiter went still. He blinked. And then he felt tremendously relieved and breathed calmer. "Ah, that thing ... alright," he said simply, remarkably unnaturally calm, too relieved to be irritated. At the moment, surprisingly, it was the last thing on his mind. "Fine. Well, I still want to shoot you, but ... I understand. You're an idiot, but not always an asshole."

Shawn blinked in surprise at this causal reaction, as if nothing had happened. Lassie wanted to arrest him for this. And why did he sound like he expected to hear something different? "Ooookay... That's... good to know," he replied. He smiled crookedly and continued eating wondering what else Lassie was expecting Shawn to say.

***

The next days passed calmly. Shawn showed up at the station every day in his usual loud and distracting way. He was also distracting every now and then, he talked to everyone around, joked, sang and whistled under his breath, danced and occasionally regaled someone with his "psychic vision". Surprisingly, however, he tried not to bother Lassiter or disturb him. He brought him coffee a couple of times, for which McNab was very grateful. Lassiter, on the other hand, was instinctively suspicious, but then nodded and accepted the cup.

Once, sweeping around his desk, he leaned over him, leafing through the case file. "Check the nurse, she did it," he whispered softly and continued cleaning as he pulled away. 

Lassiter frowned at first, as if he heard some insect buzzing above his ear. After a second, however, he shot his head up. His eyebrow twitched in annoyance. "I don't need help, Spencer. Shoo shoo" he waved his hand at him. "Do your own job. You're leaving puddles around my desk again."

"Scandinavian technique, Lassie!"

The detective paused for a moment, considering it anyway. And when Shawn was a long way away, he sighed with a hint of irritation and took the nurse's interrogation report to go over it. He did find an inconsistency in her testimony. It was enough to bring her in, and two hours later Lassiter had a confession in his hand. As he left the interrogation room, proud of himself, he saw Shawn in the distance on the phone.

"Okay, bye, Kate. See you later."

Juliet’s ears piqued and she walked over to him with a smile. "Who's this Kate? Do I know her?"

Shawn smiled sheepishly. "Ah, that's... a waitress from a nearby bar. We have a date today", he muttered. Lassiter froze, pausing abruptly and listening. His eyebrow twitched in the announcement of being pissed off, and he stared at Shawn in disbelief.

How dare that idiot... right after their date!

Jules raised her eyebrows. "A date? Wow, have fun!"

"Yeah ... thanks," Shawn muttered. He didn't look excited. He grabbed the mop as he continued cleaning. 

Lassiter frowned and inhaled aggressively like a rabid animal. Then he started toward him. "Spencer. Interrogation room. Now", he announced coldly, in a tone that would bear no objection, simply grabbing him by the clothes and dragging him there with him. Shawn gasped in surprise as he dropped the mop from his hand. It fell to the ground with a bang, drawing everyone's attention. Juliet followed them with a worried look, but just sighed and went back to work.

"What's going on, Lassie?" Shawn asked in surprise, not resisting. He followed the Detective confused. "It wasn't the nurse? It's impossible, I had a very clear vision, it must be her...!"

Lassiter, however, unceremoniously dragged him into the interrogation room and pushed him towards the table. "Shut up and sit."

He was clearly pissed off. When Shawn sat his ass down on the chair that the interrogated criminals used to sit on, and on which he himself was sitting only a few days ago, the dark-haired man leaned on him with a murderous glare, leaning against the table "Are you trying to piss me off, Spencer?" He drawled coldly. The boy blinked. He looked at Lassiter carefully and uncomprehendingly.

"Um ... usually yes but this time no," he replied. "So it was the nurse or it wasn't?" What else could it be but the case? 

Lassiter frowned menacingly. "It was the fucking nurse!" He growled, tapping his hand on the table, irritated by the questions about this irrelevant matter. 

Shawn raised his eyebrows." …then… what's the problem again?" He asked more and more confused.

"Don't pretend to be a bigger idiot than you already are. How dare you ask me on a date and then go out with some fucking Kate?!"

Hearing this, Shawn froze with his mouth parted, staring at Lassiter as if he had suddenly turned into a giant pineapple. Hairy and with blue eyes. Screaming loud curses. " …come again?" He stammered out finally. He gasped suddenly as he realized something and got up from his chair. "Lassie, are you… jealous?"

Lassiter froze at the accusation. He frowned. "Of course I am not jealous, idiot!" he snapped. "I'm pissed off by your behavior. You're an even more insolent bastard brat than I thought if you thought you could go on a date with me and then go out with someone else! And it's with some fucking Kate!" He proudly insisted that he was not jealous, but how he acted and what he said showed that he was. And he's fucking jealous. 

Shawn was completely confused. "I thought it was a joke," he replied. He ended up flirting in a very awkward way, and Lassie was sure it was a mockery. So Shawn thought the detective simply struck a baton. Especially since a few days had passed since their lunch, and at best the detective was ignoring him. Until today, they haven't even had a real conversation.

"Why would you seriously want to have a date with me?" he asked. 

Lassiter straightened and crossed his arms over his chest, staring at him murderously. "Why would you ask?" he bounced the baton. "Or maybe you didn't want to and were mocking me?"

"I asked first!" Shawn called. 

Lassiter snorted. "What are you, a five year old child?" he mocked.

"You can't answer because you’re afraid or you don't know yourself?" Shawn asked provocatively. "Lassie, you act… strange," he added in a lower voice.

"I will not be lectured on this subject by someone who childishly loses interest as soon as he manages to achieve his goal!" Detective attacked him defensively. "What, you managed to invite me on a date, then you can switch to someone else? Is that how much your goddamn interest is worth?"

Shawn froze, bewildered and completely shocked. His jaw dropped. He stared at Lassiter for several long seconds in disbelief. "What?!" he fired in the end. "‘Achieve his goal’"? It sounded like Lassiter was an abused, naive, abandoned teenager. But he was sure now. Lassie is definitely jealous. But why? "Lassie, that was just dinner. That whole ‘date’ thing was only a joke. You hate me. You don't go on dates with someone you hate."

"I fucking went!" Lassiter shouted pissed off, hitting his fist on the table between them. He sucked air through his nostrils and let it out loudly like a rabid animal. "You know what, Spencer? Go on that damn date with your fucking Kate. For the sake of Sweet Lady Justice, why should I care?"

Shawn narrowed his eyes as he watched the dark haired man carefully. He also didn't understand why the detective would care about it in any way. His rage, his concern, it was all real, he could see it. He didn't understand it, he didn't understand why, but it sparked a spark of… hope in him. "Lassie… if you don't wanna me going on dates with other people, maybe you should ask me on a date yourself?" He replied calmly, slightly lifting the corner. "Just one isn't enough for me."

Lassiter froze and blinked at him. He was clearly a bit ... embarrassed, his anger fading. He frowned, leaning over Shawn very closely. "You would have to learn at least some partial respect," he said, lips very close to those of Shawn. His eyes were still warm with emotion, piercing gaze. 

Shawn paused. He felt hot and his heart skipped a beat as he smelled Lassiter leaning over him. Soap, black Camay, gunpowder, gun lubricant, coffee. He could feel his breath against his skin. He felt as if he were dreaming. The situation was completely unreal. He had dreamed of such an opportunity many times, not believing it would ever come. And just when he was about to let go… a miracle happened. "I hope you consider a kiss form of respect, Lassie," he whispered. Then he stood on his tiptoes and pressed their lips together, resting his hands on the table between them. The kiss was subtle and unobtrusive, a touch of lips, a brush. After a few seconds, Shawn moved his head back and looked at the Detective carefully, slightly uncertain, wondering if he was going to be hit in the face or not.

The Detective froze. His heart skipped a beat and he just stuck out in shock, allowing the gesture. He looked at Shawn with a wide eyed, puppy like, uncertain gaze. Then he cursed softly, almost inaudibly, and wrapped a hand around the other man’s neck, also on impulse. He leaned over to him, eliminating the little distance between them again, and he pressed into Shawn's lips much more firmly, even aggressively, in a strong, firm, dominant kiss.

Shawn's heart raced. It was as if it had just jumped out of his chest and soared to heaven. His eyes widened, protruding stiff for the first two seconds. He didn't believe it was really happening. Then he immediately wove his fingers into Lassiter's salt and pepper hair. He responded to the kiss, also leaning towards the man, unconsciously getting his knee up on the table which was only disturbing them now.

As they stepped away from each other, they were both shocked at what had happened. They stared at each other with enlarged eyes and were breathing heavily. Their hearts pounded and their breathing quickened. But neither of them stepped back, escaped, backing off from what had just happened.

"Y-you know what…?" Shawn whispered finally. "It couldn't work with Kate anyway… She doesn't like Clint Eastwood movies."

Lassiter blinked at the argument. Then he smiled slowly, feeling warm and satisfied. "I fucking love Clint Eastwood movies," he whispered into his mouth. Shawn smiled slightly, slyly.

"I know."

"I have his full collection at home. You'd better get your ass over there today at eight."

Shawn swallowed at that. "Okay," he merely replied. He didn't trust his voice.

"Don't be late", the Detective whispered, a more menacing note in his voice that demanded obedience. Immediately after that, he smiled and straightened to leave the room, resuming the work that had been interrupted.

Shawn watched Lassiter until he was left alone in the interrogation room. Only then did he allow himself to feel his emotions. He sat down in the chair, legs made of cotton. He brought a trembling hand to his mouth. "What the fuck just happened ..?" he whispered.

Has he just made a date with Lassie? Like serious one? He blinked and took out his phone hurriedly. He must necessarily show off to Gus! And at the same time, to inform them where to look for his body, if he is not heard of after this date.

*** 

Eight o'clock in the evening Shawn drove his motorbike to Lassiter's house. He wore a yellow shortsleeved linen and jeans, which was the height of elegance for him. His hairstyle was perfectly gelled. He stood in front of the front door and unbuttoned the button at his neck, sweating in the extremely hot evening. In his hand he was clutching a pineapple with a bow. He took a deep breath and knocked. 

Lassiter opened him after a short wait. He was dressed elegantly, as always, with a tie, and Shawn clearly smelled the cologne. He cleared his throat, hanging for a moment after seeing him. "You're not late, Spencer," he remarked, which was probably meant to be a compliment. "And you don't even look like something has chewed you up and spat out. You're looking ... nice." More than nice. Lassiter felt something damn nice and satisfying to see how Shawn did his best for him.

Shawn grinned nervously, but pleasantly tickled. "Thanks, Lassie... You're lookin nice too," he replied.

As always. 

They both acted awkwardly like two stressed out teens on a first date. Well, half of them agreed. Lassiter smirked, opening the door wider to let him in. "Come. Pizza is already here."

Shawn perked up and smiled at the pizza. He walked briskly inside and took off his red sneakers. "Pizza? Hawaiian by any chance?" he asked hopefully. He held up a pineapple decorated with a bow in both hands. "If not, we have this guy. We can cut it up and put it on top", he said and pressed the fruit into Lassiter's hands. 

The Detective shuddered, surprised at the sight of the fruit. He picked it up. "It won't be necessary. The Hawaiian one is yours", he said. Two huge pizza boxes were already on the couch table in the living room, tempting with the smell. Shawn's eyes lit up at the sight, and his smile widened. Suddenly he felt how damn hungry he was. He hasn't eaten since lunch.

Lassiter cleared his throat suddenly a little nervously. "Should I have gotten you something? I don't have any..."

Shawn glanced at him in surprise.

"You can bring one next time, while we'll meet at my place," Shawn purred and headed for the living room with a carton of pizza in his hands. Lassiter raised his eyebrows higher at that and blinked. Next time. "You assume I won't kill you today?" He half-joked with a crooked smile, relaxing into the evening.

Shawn laughed as he sat on the couch and looked at the Detective. "Sooo ... What are we watching?"

Lassiter smiled proudly as he reached for the box containing the entire Clint Eastwood library. "Gran Torino?" he suggested. "Or maybe a classic like Dirty Harry or The Outlaw Josey Wales?"

Shawn raised an eyebrow, but he didn't think long. "Fire up Dirty Harry," he said, taking a slice of pizza in his hand. It had so many ingredients that it gave way underneath. He bit and purred. "How do you know Hawiian pizza is my favorite?" He asked. 

Lassiter smiled in satisfaction as he turned on the film. "Maybe I am a psychic too," he smiled. Shawn froze and stared. "I'm an outstanding detective, Spencer. And I saw what your taco looked like." He turned his attention to his own pizza full of meat, bacon, beef, ham, salami, sausage and everything that a lover of extreme "masculine food" could dream of. 

"Don't comment on my taco when your pizza looks like it's called The Best Way For Heart Attack," he snorted. "That thing will distract me," he added accusingly, pointing at the pizza with his finger. It was more of a pile of meat with a little dough and sauce than the other way around. Lassiter snorted and rolled his eyes.

"Yours must be sweet as a fucking dessert with such an absurd amount of pineapple," he bit back and ostentatiously took a bite of his pizza. It was probably the only thing he would eat throughout the day. He only drank coffee at work.

Shawn snorted and settled in to watch the movie. During which, he made running commentary. Most often with a full mouth. They both knew the plot well, but the boy revealed details that Lassiter had not noticed before, despite being a connoisseur. Which irritated him, but also somehow fucking impressed him. 

"In the previous scene, he had a gun in his left hand, and now he has a gun in his right!"

Or:

"There was a microphone fragment in the corner!"

And:

"In the reflection of the mirror was the cameraman's arm!"

Lassiter frowned, annoyed that he hadn't noticed these things. Each time he had to go back to look, not believing he had missed anything.

"How?!" He grunted in disbelief. He watched it a hundred times!

Shawn smiled proudly as he took a bite of the last slice of his pizza. He ate his entirely, while the Detective had only eaten three pieces of his meat monster. He stared incredulously at the capacity of Shawn' stomach.

"It's not difficult, Lassie. Just being a damn good detective", Shawn replied. "You know that feeling, Lassie?"

He glanced at the screen and raised an eyebrow.

"Ha, this car has different rims in each scene!"

Lassiter's eyebrow twitched in a nervous tic that indicated peculiarity. It hit his ego.

"I knew that too!" he announced childishly. He pushed Shawn suddenly and he landed on his back on the wide couch. Surprised, Shawn screamed as the slice of pizza he had just picked up landed on his face. Lassiter hung over him, leaning on his hand.

"It's not detective work. It's childish.”

Shawn gasped indignantly.

"Lassie, come on!” He exclaimed. He took the pizza off his face and put it back in the box, then began to wipe off the sauce. "You're just frustrated that I'm…" he began, but stopped as he realized that Lassie was looming over him. He immediately forgot about the boasting. He raised his eyebrows slightly, eyes widening. He swallowed hard. He felt hot and his heart beat faster."… is this the moment when you murder me?” He asked softly. 

Lassiter narrowed his eyes in a dangerous flash. "Maybe," he muttered, leaning lower over him, leaning on his hand. "It depends. Do you still want to finish your idiotic sentence?"

Shawn froze, mouth parted. He smelled Lassiter again. Same as before, but now comes a whiskey scented shampoo and cologne. So Lassie took a shower for Shawn’s arrival. Interesting. " ...after short consideration I decided to pass," Shawn murmured, stealthily grasping Lassiter's dangling tie on his chest, who smiled victoriously and made a soft grunt.

"These are probably the only wise words I've ever heard from your lips."

Shawn, however, only seconds later lifted the corners of his mouth. "After all there is no point in stating the obvious."

Lassiter froze. Then he hissed, and his eyebrow twitched in annoyance. He grabbed Shawn’s neck, pressing his thumb against his throat. "Say it, you brat" he ordered unceremoniously into his mouth. "Tell me what you don't want to say so badly," he whispered, but emphatically, hanging just above him. Their lips were almost touching, their breaths mixed. Lassiter meant, of course, that he is the best detective, not that idiot. It was not obvious to everyone. Shawn froze. His heart skipped in his chest. He felt a twinge of fear.

"Oh god," The younger man whispered. "You heard me. With Gus. That's why you’re messing with me right now. I admit it, it's very nice vengeance. What do you want, Lassie? Give me hope and then kick me in the ass? Wow, that's pretty low", he accused, lifting the corner of his mouth. He lay still, looking the man straight in the eye. 

This one froze, bewildered. He stared at him for a moment without understanding. He had yet to associate it with the situation in the interrogation room, because he was completely out of his mind. "What the fuck are you're talking about, idiot? I told you to say that I'm the best detective."

Shawn froze and blinked at that. He gasped softly, suddenly feeling quite stupid. "Oh," he replied. He cleared his throat, intending to pretend nothing happened. "In that case... I can't say it. I am sorry but that's a lie. And I never lie, Lassie", he murmured.

Lassiter frowned menacingly, forgetting the previous topic. He snorted. "You lie all the time!" he accused him. What a cheeky little hypocrite. "You're a goddamn little liar. Afraid to tell the truth once?"

Shawn laughed. "May I remind you that I got 100 percent on the detective test when I was fifteen? And you got, what? 97?" He asked with amusement. 

Lassiter gave him a murderous glare. "97.2!" he drawled, indignant in the same way a child who stubbornly claims to be six and a half, not six. 

Shawn chuckled. "Ah. It changes everything."

"If you think you can beat me... prove it. We can do this test once again."

Hearing that, Shawn raised his eyebrows. The spirit of competition awoke in him. "Deal," he replied. "The loser will admit loudly, in public, at the police station that the other is a better detective than he is," he said with a dark smile. 

Lassiter narrowed his eyes menacingly, staring him in the eye piercingly. The tension between them was palpable, and the lips were almost touching. Their breaths mingled. "Fine," he drawled. "We'll test each other so you cannot cheat."

Shawn grinned predatory. "Sure. Do you want to do it now? He murmured.

"I'm ready," Lassiter announced coldly, as if it were a duel to the death. He smiled menacingly. "Unless you need time to review the information. I can give you the topics. After all, you're not a real detective."

Shawn snorted. "I was born ready, Lassie.”

***

Lassiter snarled, slapping his hand on the table and fixed a murderous glare at Shawn, who had just beaten him by one point. He must have had too much whiskey. Shawn had a sweet, fruity drink that was basically strawberry juice with a small amount of alcohol.

"You cheated! The indignant detective growled. "I don't know how you did it, but you cheated. Again."

Shawn chuckled and shook his head. "Lassie, we've done this three times already. If you're sure I was cheating, but you can't tell how, even though you’ve kept your eyes on me, you're really bad at detectiving", he said, tapping his fingers on the pillow that was resting on his thighs. 

Lassiter chilled him with a murderous glare over the glass of whiskey he was just taking a sip. "’Detectiving’ is NOT a word. You have NOT heard it both ways. And I will find out. If you want to keep dating me, I'll get your every dirty secret out of you", he announced, leaning towards him with a menacing glare. 

Shawn felt his heart pound at the words. So Lassie is going to actually date him? It wasn't just mocking him or teasing?

"Do you know how naughty boys are punished? Especially for lying and cheating?"

Shawn froze with the glass halfway to his mouth. He raised an eyebrow, his eyes gleaming with interest. He looked at the man carefully. "…why, do you want to show me, Lassie?" he murmured. 

Lassiter narrowed his eyes, leaning toward him with that menacing gleam in his eyes. "So you admit that you're a bad, naughty boy and you need your punishment?" He asked softly, but his tone was dominant, his voice piercing as well as his gaze.

Shawn's fingers tightened on the glass, feeling he might drop it. He swallowed hard. "No. I am a very very good boy", he replied, feeling that his neck was sweating. Lassiter was so close that the boy could feel the warmth of his body. "But I can pretend I am not if you need a reason to punish me."

Lassiter raised his eyebrows slightly. Then he grinned predatorily.

At that moment, the loud ringing of the telephone rang between them. Shawn's phone. They both froze, the moment broken. They stared at each other for a moment before pulling away from each other.

Guster's face lit up the screen. As soon as Shawn answered, his friend's screams were immediately heard. So loud it can be heard by both of them. "Shawn! Are you alive ?! The psychopath hasn't murdered you yet?! I knew you shouldn't go to him! Get out of there!"

Shawn cursed under his breath as he tried to cover the speaker, but it didn't do much. He smiled nervously at the detective, who raised his eyebrows slowly, skeptically, staring at him silently. "Gus! It's all fine, dude! This call isn’t necessary", he replied. He appreciated his friend's concern, but at that moment he wanted to strangle him. It ruined such an intense moment.

"It IS necessary! At least one of us has to be responsible!" exclaimed Guster. "I’m waiting for your ‘I’m safe at home’ call. If I don't get it before midnight, I will presume you are dead and report you missing", he warned.

Shawn sighed heavily and rubbed his fingers over his eyelids. "Okay, okay, don't be such a chewed gum, Gus," he muttered, then hung up.

Lassiter sucked in a breath, then let it out louder. He looked at Shawn and cleared his throat. "Well, it is indeed already late... I'll call you an Uber," he said, looking briefly, meaningfully at the alcoholic drinks Shawn had already drank a little. He himself drained half a decanter of whiskey.

"No need, I have my bike and I didn't drink that much," Spencer muttered, rising from the couch. He was a bit disappointed that Gus interrupted what could clearly be called their moment, but on the other hand, common sense told him that it was better that way. He felt fucking unnatural with this sudden change in Lassiter's attitude, and it had a strange feeling it was some kind of trick.

"Yes, you need it" but the Detective said firmly. He reached for his phone. "Already got an Uber. After all, you have to arrive safe and sound, not to be chased by a murderer", he reminded tartly but calmly. Shawn rolled his eyes and slipped his hands into his pockets. "Good boys don't drive after drinking", Lassiter chidded. 

"Good boys are boring!"

"Good boys always get a reward" Lassiter whispered directly in his ear.

Shawn shivered slightly. He had never been a good boy, but suddenly he felt a tremendous curiosity. What was that "reward"? He wanted to get it!

"Thanks for the... pizza and movie," he muttered, feeling bloody awkward. He couldn't call it a date. "Um... good night? I'll pick up the bike tomorrow."

Lassiter nodded. "Spencer," he said, before Shawn headed for the taxi. Shawn raised his eyebrows and turned to look at him questioningly. The man suddenly leaned over to him, grabbing his neck, and kissed him briefly, dominantly, and firmly. Shawn gasped, eyes widening. He stiffened in shock.

Lassiter smirked as their lips parted and he pulled away. He cleared his throat. "Thanks for the date."

Shawn stood still, all red in the face. It was a surprise attack he wasn't ready for. "Y-yeah ... That too," he stammered out. He cleared his throat, then ran off to the Uber.

What the hell was going on here?

***

The next day, Lassiter was in an unnaturally good mood. On his way to work, he even bought some pineapple chewing gum that he spotted in the store and immediately thought of Shawn. He entered the station with a brisk step, pleased and even strangely full of enthusiasm for life as if he were himself. "Speenc-...!" he said long, seeing someone standing with a mop, but he froze suddenly and raised his eyebrows when he saw ... "Guster?"

Gus turned to face him. He didn't seem happy to be here. Just like the detective from seeing him. "Lassiter," he said brusquely. "Why are you surprised?"

Lassiter grimaced at the sight of him, looking like a child who bit the "fries" only to turn out to be cooked green beans. "Why are you here?" he replied with a question to the question disapprovingly. "Where's Spencer?"

Gus raised his eyebrows. "He cleaned for a week. Now my turn”, he said. He looked at Lassiter, who seemed almost… disappointed that Shawn wasn't here. This was interesting. "Now if you excuse me. I have one more floor to clean.” He huffed and walked away, along with a mop and a bucket. 

Lassiter frowned. Shawn didn't tell him anything. On the contrary, he boasted of spending the next three weeks together and wagging his mental tail. He reached for the phone and after a moment's thought, he dialed Shawn's number.

"You've reached the best psychic detective in the world. I'm currently out of reach tracking the lost Aztec gold in the Yucatan. Leave your blessings, I'll call you back! Don't do it if you are Henry."

Lassiter growled a curse. He was becoming more and more concerned, though he didn't know why. It wasn't that weird after all. Normal business, they only saw each other yesterday. So why was he nervous? He should be glad to have a quiet day at work. He took his curse and decided to return to his duties, but before that, after a moment's hesitation, he tapped Shawn a short text. 

> Lunch at 2?

It took an hour for the reply to come.

> sorry lass i am out of town for a while. see ya l8r

While surprised, the Detective was still relieved to get an answer, regardless of how short. Shawn's probably just doing another shit out of town, probably related to some Psych case. Lassiter decided to concentrate on work. Only after a few hours, when lunchtime was approaching, something had touched him unpleasantly. Has he never seen these two idiots working separately?

"Guster," he said, the one idiot he had on hand, coming up to him. "Are you and Spencer... busy right now? Do you have any open cases?"

Guster raised an eyebrow at him. "Yes, we are. I am busy cleaning up Shawn's mess", he said grumpily. "But there aren’t any cases. The office is closed. And clients always call me" he announced deliciously. 

Lassiter froze. He felt a growing unease, stronger than before. He frowned and grabbed Gus's arm, staring into his eyes with pressure. "Guster. Where is Spencer right now?"

Gus frowned. "Why? He asked suspiciously. "He said he had to jump out of town", he replied. Immediately, however, he became thoughtful. "But it's weird because he never goes anywhere without me."

Lassiter froze, feeling cold. He cursed ugly. "That idiot's up to something," he hissed, unconsciously gripping his fingers tighter on poor Gus's shoulder. "But why? Everything was fine yesterday ... before your goddamn phone."

Gus snorted. "Dude, how much can you work on a case? It was already midnight, that's a big exaggeration! I had to check that you didn't do anything to him!"

Apparently Gus had no idea of the true nature of their meeting. Lassiter's eyes widened, staring at him in disbelief. He hissed. "We were on a fucking date, you moron!" he announced indignantly. 

Gus froze at that. His eyes widened. "What?! What are you talking about?!" He asked in a harsh whisper. "What ‘date’ ?! You hate him! I would never believe it!"

"Wake up, Guster" the Detective snarled. "You don't want to believe it but you believed that I asked this idiot for help in my case?! I don't need any help in MY cases!"

Of the two bad choices, a date was more likely. Gus snorted. "Hey, you've asked us a few times," he muttered.

"Only because I didn't have any other options! " the Detective drawled. He did not do it of his own free will. "And now Spencer's gone somewhere," Lassiter continued. "Not answering the phone. Where is he?"

Gus frowned. "Wait? Are you serious?" he asked. He gasped in shock as Lassiter gave him a murderous glare. "Oh my god! He did it! He told you!" he exclaimed, taking it for granted. He brought his hand to his mouth. "This is a disaster. He told you, you rejected him and now he run away again."

Lassiter raised his eyebrows at the accusation. "What?" he almost spat it out. "Come on! He didn't tell me... ugh. I know what he wants to say, but he didn't tell me anything and I absolutely did not reject him. I would have rather fucked him if you hadn't interrupted our date."

Hearing this, Gus squealed and brought his hands to his ears, and the broom fell from his hand. "I don't want to know!" he exclaimed. Both attracted the attention of the entire station. They were looked at with curiosity. At least until Lassiter rebuked everyone around him with a gaze that clearly reminded everyone that they had something to do.

"Wait... You said he didn't tell you? But "you know"? How do you know?" Gus asked suspiciously. Lassiter snorted.

"I'm a damn good detective", he spat. He frowned. “And you idiots still haven't learned that the glass in the interrogation room is a two way mirror and you can be seen and heard from there."

Gus's mouth dropped open and his eyes widened at that. Until it chilled him. "Crap," he said. This was a disaster. Absolutely a nightmare. "He… he had to figure it out. He did it for sure. And he run. He always runs", he whispered, feeling sudden terror. And anger. "He is probably in Nevada by now! Lassiter, because of you I will lose my friend again!"

Lassiter froze, feeling an icy crush against his heart. But then he growled and frowned. "How the hell is it my fault?!" He was indignant. "I just said I DID NOT reject him! We already set up the next date. And I offered to take him to fucking lunch today. What is that idiot thinking?!" He hissed and reached for the phone nervously. He tried calling Shawn again, and when that didn't work, he prodded Gus to make it from his phone. His heart was pounding fast, violently as he fired off more texts.

> FYI, Spencer; If you're out of town, I'll find you, drag you back by your collar, break your fucking ass so you won't sit on it for a year. Am I clear?

> Call me back. Right now. I don't care what the fuck you're doing.

***

A few hours earlier, Shawn Spencer parked his motorcycle outside his father's house. He cleared his throat nervously, struggling with his thoughts, reluctant to what he wanted to do, but finally got off his bike and headed for the door. He took a breath and stepped inside.

"Hi dad!" he exclaimed. 

Henry was sitting in a chair with a newspaper and glasses on his nose. He raised his eyebrows when he saw his son. "Hey, Shawn. We didn't have an appointment today. Problems with a case again?"

Shawn chuckled nervously. "Problems? No, what problems? No problems."

Henry crossed his arms over his chest when he heard that, because he already knew very well that there must be problems. And it's serious, since my son has bothered to see him.

Shawn, meanwhile, sat down on the couch and grabbed a pillow. "Actually my friend has a problem," he began, and Henry's eyebrow lifted slightly, dubiously. "He has… his special someone whom he really likes. And that someone hates him. Like… literally, that person would kill him if they could. He tried for years and nothing. Then suddenly! That person wants to date him. What would you do?"

Henry watched him closely. Then he reached for his beer and Shawn got a baby juice in a tube carton. "Well, if ‘your friend's’ special someone hates him that much as you described it, I would check it out and be suspicious about it. Something specific happened to cause a change?"

Shawn tilted his head. "Yeah. Happened. A lot of things happened and I don’t know what to do… I mean he doesn’t know what to do".

At this point, his phone rang. Shawn took out his cell phone in a case with the Psych logo. He saw loads of missed calls from Lassiter and Gus, and even more texts. He sighed. He couldn’t ignore them longer. "Thanks, dad. I gotta run", he said, standing up, then rushed off as quickly as he appeared. Henry sighed heavily.

***

Shawn drove up to Lassiter's house shortly after, a short time after the detective returned from work. He sighed softly. He had no idea what he was going to do. He wiped his sweaty palms on his pants, then knocked. 

Lassiter swung open as if he were waiting at the door. "Where is he, Gust-...?!" he began in a crazy tone, already holding a basket full of surveillance recordings in his hands. But when he saw who was standing in front of him, he froze and dropped them violently to the floor, staring at Shawn. His heart beat faster. He would never have expected himself to be so relieved to see him. " ...Spencer," he whispered in surprise.

Shawn raised his eyebrows in surprise to see the state of the detective, hearing his words. It clearly looked very serious. Lassie looked genuinely concerned. Because of him? His heart beat faster. He stepped inside without a word, forcing Lassiter to step back. He bit his lip as he thought for only a second. Then he gave up. He grabbed his tie and pulled him sharply against him, biting into his lips tightly, even aggressively. Lassiter inhaled sharply through his nostrils, shocked, but only in the first second. In the second, he took the lead and dominated the kiss. He reached out to grab him under his buttocks, for which he picked him up after a moment, forcing Shawn to wrap his arms around his neck and his legs around the waist. Shawn gasped in surprise, but neither of them broke off a long, passionate kiss. The Detective unceremoniously walked with him into the bedroom, ignoring the unlocked door and the box full of tapes left in the entrance.

As their lips parted and they finally had to catch their breath, Shawn was actually thrown back onto the wide bed. He was breathing fast as he watched the detective downstairs. He looked damn innocent.

"’Hello, is it me you're looking for’?" He hummed softly, smiling slightly, a bit nervously.

Lassiter leaned over him and looked into his eyes with his own heated emotions ... and fury. "I will fucking kill you," the man whispered hoarsely in aggressive promise. Shawn swallowed, and his smile faded slowly. He felt hot and cold at the same time.

"Lassie, I think we should talk..." he whispered cautiously.

"Me and Guster already started looking for you in the fucking Nevada!" I was just checking the surveillance of all fucking Santa Barbara,” Lassiter growled, glared at him. "What kind of idiot does it take to think me dating you is a fucking rejection?

Shawn froze, eyes widening. Did Lassie really care that much? "... you don't have any reason to date me," he whispered. ‘Apart from mocking me, giving me false hope and playing with my feelings as revenge for so many years of playing on your nerves.’ 

Lassiter leaned over him with a menacing gleam in his eyes. He looked like he was really ready to kill him here. "But I did. We were already planning our next date and I also asked you for lunch with me today. What does that tell you, you fucking idiot?” 

Shawn felt his heart just fall out of his chest. His hands trembled slightly with emotion. He gasped softly. "...I ...I got scared. But I didn't run. I didn't. I am here", he replied softly. 

Lassiter looked at him piercingly, intensely. He exhaled through his nostrils like a furious animal. "And you're fucking lucky you didn't," he said finally. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment as if trying to cool down a little. He cursed under his breath and frowned slightly. "What did you expect from me, Spencer? I can't say that I... love you. It just doesn't work that way. But I definitely feel... something for you. And I decided to give it a try since I know that you weren’t just fucking with me and trying to piss me off all this time.”

Shawn froze, and his eyes widened. His heart stopped for a moment. His face turned red. He parted his lips, but for several long seconds he didn't know what to say. "...I knew you'd heard me that day," he whispered finally. His eyes were large, but they shone intensely with something like ... joy. He cleared his throat and nodded. "...okay …okay. Okay, let's do it, Lassie. So ...Head Detective Lassiter, would you do me an honor and be my boyfriend?"

Lassiter froze. His heart beat faster, and for a moment he just stared at Shawn as if he hadn't expected such an ...attack. The anger vanished from his gaze, superseded by surprise. "No" he said, unexpectedly brutally. 

Shawn froze, surprised, dread and sadness taking over his face. So he was right, Lassie wanted the satisfaction of crushing his heart.

But then Lassiter smiled under his breath and reached out to snap Shawn on the nose. "You have to ask properly. You forgot about my first name. Use it."

Shawn gasped softly as his lips parted. He swallowed and cleared his throat. "...Carlton, do you want to be my boyfriend?"

Lassiter smiled suddenly, exceptionally subtly, warmly, without that mocking expression that usually accompanied his smiles. Shawn stroked his thumb over his hot cheek. "I do", he said softly, "Shawn. You little idiot."

Shawn's eyes widened, feeling warm and joy filling him. He smiled broadly. His heart skipped a beat at the sound of his own name. "Almost like a proposal! Holy shit. I can't believe it. I ... What should I do now? I don't have much boyfriend experience, you know. I’m a shitty boyfriend", he asked a bit nervously, but smiling happily like a boy who had been given a huge candy. 

Lassiter snorted softly. "How am I supposed to know?" he asked rhetorically. "I've never had a boyfriend. I thought you’ve had many." The Detective felt an unexpected wave of proud possession run through him knowing he was Shawn’s first. He was silent for a moment, watching the psychic smiling like an idiot and almost wagging his nonexistent tail. He smiled to himself. "We'll figure something out. For now ... tell me where you took your ass all day and why you refused to come out for lunch with me. And I hope you have a really good reason."

Shawn paused. The smile slowly faded from his face. But then he laughed nervously under the sharper gaze of Lassiter, who already expected that he might not like the answer. "Lassie, you know what it's like... I was chasing a serial killer. I was on my bike, he was in a helicopter, I jumped off the cliff…", he began with excitement in his voice.

Lassiter chilled him at the obvious load of nonsense. "Spencer" Lassiter interrupted him severely, and Shawn immediately fell silent. The detective looked at him expectantly and insistently. "Do you want me to start regretting this? If you want me to be your boyfriend, you have to be honest with me."

Shawn swallowed. Honesty was something he had a big problem with. "I... I was on my way to Oregon..." he said finally quietly. Lassiter hissed loudly. "But I turned back!" Shawn added hurriedly, seeing his displeasure. 

Lassiter snarled, inhaling through his nostrils angrily and rose to his hands. "I knew it!" He said incredulously. He used a lot of self-control to take a deep breath and force himself to cool down a bit. Knowing Shawn was honest, even though forced helped lower his blood pressure. "But…you’re back," he nodded. "Thank your fucking luck. If you hadn't, your ass would be so beat that you’d die before the bruises heal." He looked at Shawn more closely. "You're back," he repeated, this time with some surprise as if it was just dawning on him. "Why are you back?"

Shawn sighed and closed his eyes. "For as long as I can remember, I've been running away. I was always on the run. Then I came back pretending nothing had happened. But this time… I didn't really want to run away. I had… too much to lose” he said softly. "I just… panicked, when I realized… you’ve heard me that day. It was instinct. I was afraid. I still am. But I don't want to run away this time…" he whispered. 

Lassiter watched him closely, penetratingly, assessing him with the detective's searching, stern gaze. Eventually, however, his forehead smoothed out as he apparently decided that Shawn was not lying. He slowly brought his hand to Shawn’s tanned face and wrapped the inside of his large, strong hand around it. "Good," he whispered, leaning over him very closely, almost brushing his lips with his own. "Because if you run away, if you dare to try it again, I'll chase you across the continent and beyond. You can't run away from me. Because if you get into a relationship with me, it has consequences, Spencer. Do you understand?" His voice was low, almost soft, subtle, but at the same time it somehow fucking pierced with every single word, as if that soft sound was rippling through his body.

Shawn was speechless and stopped breathing for a moment. A cold shiver ran down his spine. He parted his mouth and swallowed. He nodded his head. “Yessir!" He replied. "Can we kiss now?"

Lassiter smiled approvingly, his eyes flashing warmer notes and disarming with that innocent question. "We'll do more than kiss. I still need to show you what a good boy's reward looks like" he whispered directly on Shawn’s lips. "But yes. We can start with kissing."

And then, without waiting for any more reply, he clung to his lips in a passionate kiss. The two of them completely ignored Shawn's vibrating phone, which had Gus' name written in large letters on its display. Still sure Shawn fled to Nevada.

 To Be Continued (Probably)