Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Carlton Lassiter regretted every decision he’d made that had gotten him to this point.

It had started four months ago when his work partner, Juliet O’Hara, had tried to set him up on a blind date.  She had mentioned something about trying to help him get ‘out there’ after his divorce … Whatever that meant.  In a fit of desperation for her to leave him alone about his love life (or lack thereof), he told her that he was already seeing someone and “drop it O’Hara. I’m not telling you anything about them”.

That seemed to work for the time being.  She hadn’t asked any more details that day.  Occasionally she would ask about his mysterious relationship and Carlton would say something about how they were doing well and make up some lie about their latest date; always providing the bare minimum of information to appease her.

So far, he was fairly certain that they’d gone on a date to the museum, the carnival, and the movies.

Maybe he should have been writing these down.

He was always sure to never give too much away.  Carlton had never described the person he was dating, not even whether or not they were a girl or guy.  He thought that this had been a good plan.  Even his mother and the Chief had heard about this mysterious date and had stopped trying to set him up by ‘conveniently’ talking about their ‘charming’ friends.                         

He was in the clear.

That was until last week.

Chief Vick had informed him that O’Hara, Lassiter, and herself would be attending a law enforcement retreat in the following weekend that encouraged couples to attend.  They even had sessions about support for life partners that weren’t in law enforcement, according to the brochure.  That would have been fantastic, but really, that just meant he had to find a date in three days and have them pretend they had been dating for the past four months.

He had even tried to argue that O’Hara wasn’t bringing someone, so why should he?  The Chief had simply shrugged and explained that Juliet currently was single and she “hasn’t been dating a mysterious person for four months, which is pretty serious for you, Carlton”, but it was okay because the Chief would be bringing her husband, so really, O’Hara was the odd one out.

Lassiter ran a hand over his face as he sat in the mostly empty coffee shop he had been known to frequent lately.  They had fantastic coffee and it was far enough from the station that the other officers never seemed to show up, but close enough that Carlton could come here and be at the station in no time if an emergency came up.

A take away cup settled in front of him and he looked up to see one of the baristas getting comfortable in the seat across from him.  The dark haired male was someone who usually went out of his way to talk to Carlton any time he set up shop.  Most of the time it was an annoyance rather than a comfort.

“Spencer.”

“Aw c’mon Lassie … I’m not one of those coppers down at the station.  You don’t have to call me by my last name.  My name is Shawn.  Shhh-aaawwwnnn.  It’s like ‘yawn’ with a ‘shh’ at the beginning.”

Carlton rolled his eyes.  “I’ll call you by your first name when you call me by mine.”

The barista scrunched up his nose a bit in obvious distaste.  “Carr-- … Carly … Car—Nope.  I can’t do it.  Lassie just fits better!  It’s more your personality.”  He watched the detective roll his eyes before continuing.  “So what’s on your mind Lassie Face?  You look more stressed out than usual and that’s saying something.”

“I’m supposed to be going to a law enforcement retreat this weekend.”

“What?  That sounds awesome!  I mean, you won’t be playing Robocop in Santa Barbara, but I’m assuming it’s all expenses paid?”  A nod from Lassiter.  “Then what’s the problem?  That sounds like a vacation!”

Carlton buried his face in his hands, mumbling into them in annoyance.

“Uh … As fantastic as my hearing is, I can’t understand what you said.”

“I said, it’s a couples retreat.  My partner and the Chief both believe that I’m dating someone …”

“And you’re not?”

“No.”

A strange look crossed Shawn’s face.  “Why not?  You’re a good looking guy …”

“I was divorced a couple years ago … I just … Haven’t felt like dating anyone yet.”

Shawn sat back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest as he closed his eyes in thought.  Carlton could practically see the gears turning in his head.  Suddenly, he rushed forward over the table, hands slamming down on the polished wood nearly knocking his coffee over as he threw Carlton off guard.  “I’ve got it!”

“Got what?”

“I’ll go with you!”

“Excuse me?”

Shawn grinned brightly, ignoring the look of horror on the head detective’s face.  “I mean, unless you told them you were dating a girl.  You do like guys too right?”  Carlton nodded, unsure how he seemed to know that tidbit about him.  He didn’t remember telling Shawn anything like that. Most of their conversations had included Carlton trying to shoo him away from his table.  “Great!  Then, if you haven’t told them that you were dating a girl or guy, I could totally be your date!  We’ll pretend to be boyfriends, I’ll get an all expenses paid vacation, and you won’t seem like such a liar, liar, pants on fire.  Think of it as a great way to practice your undercover work!”

Okay, so, it wasn’t that bad of an idea.  Shawn was definitely Carlton’s type looks-wise.  His personality was almost the opposite of Carlton’s, but they did say that opposites attract, right?  He did need to practice his undercover skills, too.  He could probably manage to not murder Shawn in the five days he would have to spend with him, travelling to the convention, during, and the trip back.

Probably.

The sound of fingers snapping brought Carlton back to the present.  Shawn’s grin was still plastered on his face.  “What’d’you say, Lassie?”  He asked, reaching out to take Lassiter’s hand, which the head detective snatched back.  “Hello?  Is it me you’re looking for?”

“Are you quoting Lionel Richie to me?”

“I can see it in your eyes … I can see it in your ...” He paused, not really ever having seen the head detective smile.  “Frown?  You’re all I’ve ever wanted,” Shawn sat back, holding out his arms.  “And my arms are open wide.”

Oh this was a horrible mistake.  This was probably the biggest mistake Carlton could ever make in his life.  This wasn’t going to work.  No one was going to believe that he was dating this guy who was the complete opposite of him.  The alternative, however, was that they find out he’d been lying for four months …

Slouching in defeat, he sighed, “Fine.”  The head detective ignored how Shawn did a miniature victory dance in his seat.  Grabbing one of his cards, he scribbled his address and cell phone number on the back.  “You’ll need to come over tonight, nine p.m., so we can come up with a back story.”

Shawn grinned as he took the card, twirling it in his hands before shoving it in his pocket.  “Sounds great.  I can pick up food.  What are your thoughts on jerk chicken?”

“Whatever.  Just … Don’t breathe a word of this to anyone.  Understand?”  Lassiter said, leaving an unspoken threat linger in the air.

“Got it.”

“SHAWN!”  A male in a nice looking suit yelled as he walked into the coffee shop, looking around before making a b-line to their table.

Shawn grinned before looking to Carlton. “Sorry, he’s the Chewie to my Solo,” He hummed, ignoring the way that the head detective rolled his eyes.  “Gus!  G-Man!  There’s no need for all the yelling …”

Carlton looked down at his watch, grateful that it was time for him for him to head back to the station.  He gave a half-hearted wave to Shawn who returned it.  As he slipped out the door, he heard the man who’d been introduced as ‘Gus’ shout out “BOYFRIEND?!”

He already regretted his decision.

Rushing back to his house after work, he scowled at the clock.  He should have gotten Shawn’s number just in case something like this had happened.  A major robbery had happened, causing him to get back to the office late, which meant he was pulling up in his driveway thirty minutes after he asked Shawn to be at his home.

Carlton frowned as he bounded up the front steps, seeing no Shawn waiting for him.  Just great.  They didn’t have time to waste.  But why hadn’t Shawn called him to ask him where he was?  Sighing, he opened his door, pausing as he heard someone digging around in his kitchen.

Of course.  How could the day get any better?

Pulling his gun from his holster, he silently made his way towards the kitchen where he could hear someone pulling out plates.  He had almost reached the door when a familiar voice called out, “Cmon Lass!  Quit stalking and come get some food.”

The head detective poked his head into the kitchen, catching sight of Shawn dishing out food from take-out containers.  The barista grinned at him, “Go on.  Close the front door and come get some of this de-lish food.”

Lassiter frowned a moment before closing the front door, returning to the kitchen, “How the hell did you get into my house? And why shouldn’t I arrest you for breaking and entering?”

“A magician never reveals his secrets,” Shawn said, sliding a plate towards Carlton, “And you shouldn’t arrest your boyfriend.  It’s just not right.”

“You’re not my—“

“Yes I am.  At least, that’s what your coworkers are supposed to think, right?” Shawn asked, smirking as he shoved some of the jerk chicken in his own mouth.  Sucking the seasoning off his finger, he waved his hand at the head detective.  “Alright.  Lay it on me.  Let me into the cabe-sah that is Head Detective Lassie Pants.”

Carlton looked at the food, debating on calling this whole thing off before giving up, picking at the food some.  “We’ve supposedly been dating for four months.  We try to have dinner together every other night, if we can. We have gone on ‘big’ dates every so often to the museum, the carnival, and once to the movies.”

“And we’re never having another movie date because I won’t stop talking through the entire movie.”

That made the corners of Carlton’s lips quirk up, “Precisely.”

“Ugh.  And all of this time I haven’t brought you lunch to the station?  I’m a terrible boyfriend!”

“I never said you were a good one.” If this had been real, Carlton would have been over the moon whenever his significant other brought him lunch. He was surprised that someone hadn’t asked him about that yet. “But you should probably pretend you are a good one during the law enforcement retreat.  I’m sure that Chief Vick will introduce you to her husband and it’ll probably be easier to just follow him to the different sessions.  I’ll give you a copy of the schedule of panels.”

“Okay,” Shawn hummed, “How did we meet?”

“Just stick with as much truth as possible.  That’s the easiest way to lie and get away with it. We met at the coffee shop.  You kept bothering me until I finally accepted your offer to go out for drinks and dinner.  You weren’t as bad as I thought you would be and I agreed to go on another date.”

“Ouch.  Make it sound like such a chore.”

“Dating you is a chore.”

Shawn smirked around his fork, “What level of PDA are you comfortable with?”

That seemed to make Lassiter shut up for the moment.  “None.”

“Oh Lassie … We’re going to have to do some in order to pull this off, you know.  Want to start tonight?” He asked, throwing a wink in the head detective’s direction as Carlton’s face began to turn red.  “Have you ever actually been with a guy?”

“What?  Of course I have!  It’s just … Been a long while.”

He was so screwed.  Beyond screwed.

Shawn chuckled as he finished up his food, throwing away the trash and washing his dishes.  “Okay, we met at the coffee shop.  It took some pestering before you finally let me take you on a date.”

“I paid.”

“That you paid for.”  Shawn dried his hands off before sitting across from Lassiter once more.  “Did you always want to be a cop?”

Carlton blinked, obviously not expecting that question.  “Uhm … Yes.  I did.  What about you?”

“Did I always want to be a barista? Nah.  It’s just one of my many jobs.  It pays the rent … For now … Sort of.  Did I always want to be a cop?  When I was younger … For a short time.  My dad was on the force,” Shawn said with a small shrug.

This seemed to put a different light on Shawn.  He just thought that Shawn had been a high school dropout who was stuck as a barista because no one else would take him.  “Then why are you a barista now?”

Shawn shrugged as he raided Carlton’s fridge, grabbing a beer he found, sliding one towards the head detective without question.  “Why not? Like I said, it pays the rent.  Plus, I’m kind of a jack of all trades.  You can’t be a jack of all trades until you’ve tried your hand at said trade.  I’ve done this barista thing for about three months or so now.  I’ve also started an acupuncture clinic and drove a weinermobile.  It’s fun.  I haven’t found something that really … Captures my attention for that long.”

Opening the beer that had been pushed towards him, he gave a nod. He could understand that.  “Tell me about your family.”

A strange look crossed Shawn’s face before disappearing as he talked, “My dad and I don’t really … See eye to eye on a lot of things.  He’s still family though.  My mom doesn’t live in the area, so I don’t see her much.  Gus is like my brother.”

“The guy who was screaming at you at the shop, right?”

“Right,” He said laughing some.  “He’s my right hand man.  He’s my brotha from another motha.”  Carlton’s brow rose but he simply shook his head, filing the information away for later.  Shawn yawned a bit before looking at his watch.  “Damn.  I’ve been up for almost 48 hours.  I should probably go get some sleep.”

Shawn grabbed a piece of paper from one of the kitchen drawers, scribbling his cell phone number on it.  “Y’know, since boyfriends are supposed to have each other’s contact information and I never got to give you mine earlier,” He said with a wink.  “Think of some more stuff and we can cover it tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Yeah.  Same bat time, same bat place?  We only have a few days before the retreat and I’m sure you want to get it perfect and I want to have an amazing all expenses paid vacation …” Shawn explained with a shrug.

That was a good idea.  He was sure that he could think of more vital information that he should know if they had been dating for a few months that he could ask Shawn tomorrow.  “Tomorrow it is, Spencer.”

Shawn rolled his eyes as he got up, “You should work on my first name, babe.”

“Spencer can be a nickname …”

The barista laughed a bit, shaking his head.  “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said before letting himself out of the head detective’s house.  This could work.  They could definitely pull this off.

***

They definitely were not going to be able to pull this off.

It was lunch time and Carlton was busy dealing with paperwork when he heard a familiar voice among the station chatter.  “Lassieeee ~~”

“Oh no …” He said, paling some as he looked up to see Shawn practically skipping over to the head detective’s desk as O’Hara looked on curiously.  “What are you doing here, Spencer?”

“What?  I can’t bring my favorite detective lunch?”  For emphasis, he held up the bag containing sandwiches and the cup holder with two smoothies sitting across from each other.

Juliet got up from her desk, moving over. “Carlton?  Who’s this?”

Oh he was screwed.  Before he could open his mouth, Shawn looked at him with a frown.  “Still being all secretive…?  I thought you told everyone already?”

“Well I--…”

Shawn grinned as he looked to the woman, “Shawn Spencer. Lassie’s better half~”

His better half??  Lassiter sat dumbfounded as Juliet looked between Shawn and Carlton as if to confirm that what the stranger was saying was true.  After a half second, Carlton nodded.  It wasn’t as if he could say no and then bring Shawn along to the retreat in a few days.  As soon as he nodded, Juliet’s face lit up.

“Oh my god!  It’s so nice to finally meet you!” She said happily.  “I’m Juliet O’Hara, Carlton’s partner.”

“Juliet!  Jules!  Julie!”  He paused as the last one got a head shake from her.  Jules it was.  “Lassie’s told me all about you!”

“He has?”  She had always assumed that Lassiter didn’t talk about his work partner at home.  Definitely work stories of heroic deeds, but not his coworkers.

“Oh yes~” Shawn hummed, ignoring the confused ‘I didn’t tell you anything’ look from Carlton.  “He said that you’re the more ‘sensitive’ one … You’re the good cop to his bad cop,” He said grinning.  “What he didn’t say is how beautiful you are!  Just compliments you on your detective work.”

Well, that sounded like Carlton somewhat.  Juliet smiled as she waved him away, “Ohhh … It’s nothing.”  A pause.  “He really said that?” She stage whispered to Shawn who eagerly nodded.  “Carlton~” Juliet said endearingly, giving Lassiter a playful shove to his shoulder.

He regrets everything.

“So Shawn!  Since Carlton refuses to tell us anything about the two of you … Maybe you can enlighten us?  How did you two meet?”

Shawn gave a suffering sigh, “Lass is always so … Secretive.  Okay, not secretive, but he doesn’t like talking about his outside-of-work life.  I promised I wouldn’t butt in, otherwise I would have been bringing him lunch all this time!” The barista held up the sandwiches and smoothies for emphasis.  That at least covered his ass on being a doting boyfriend.  “But, when he told me about this couple’s retreat, I thought that meant he had told you all … I guess not … You know how some people can be with …” He paused, motioning between himself and Lassiter.  “Two guys.”

The woman gave a sad nod, “I understand.”

“But not Lassie!  Even if he didn’t bat for all teams, his mother is married to another woman. He’s accepting of everyone,” He hummed happily.

Carlton stared at Shawn.  How the hell had he known that about his mother?  He hadn’t told him.

“Anyways, sorry … You asked how we met!”  Shawn said with a grin.  “We met at a coffee shop.  I’m actually a barista currently.  Poor Lassie came in all sad and I made him his ridiculous overly sugary drink--”

“Like you have room to talk about overly sugary drinks. Didn’t I see you down two Red Bulls the other day?”

“--I made him his ridiculously overly sugary drink and I mean … Look at the guy!” Shawn said, pausing to wave his hands in Lassiter’s direction.  The head detective looked down to inspect himself.  Did he have a coffee stain on him or something?  “I knew I had to talk to him!  Well, then I saw he was a detective … He kept trying to get some work done at the shop and a couple of times I helped him solve them when he was stumped.”

Juliet looked a bit confused, “You helped Carlton on cases?”

“Not willingly,” Lassiter grumbled.

“That is true … Lassie didn’t want me to help but I could see the mental anguish it was causing him and you know … I just had to help!” Shawn said.  “Plus, what good is being a psychic if you can’t use your superpowers for good?”

“Psychic?” Both Juliet and Lassiter asked.

“Right.  I didn’t tell you about that, Lassie.  Didn’t wanna scare you off on the first few dates and totally forgot afterwards …”  Well now he was just lying out of his ass, but Shawn hoped that no one caught on.

He’d first thought of the lie after the last time that Carlton had stopped by the shop in a detective block.  The head detective seemed increasingly pissed about how Shawn had been able to figure out who the killer was just by what little bits he was able to snag from the file in front of him.  Carlton had insisted there was no way that Shawn was able to deduce that Amy Rembrant had killed her husband and strung him up over their balcony on her own; she had to have help and Shawn was looking more and more guilty just from the sheer amount of details about the case he knew.

The following day on his way to work, Shawn had passed by Broomsticks and Boggles, a spiritual shop that had offered psychic readings and the psychic idea was born.  Of course, when Lassiter had finally made his way into the coffee shop later that day, the detective told him that he was off the hook since Amy Rembrant had confessed to everything and showed them how she had managed to do it.  So, the psychic idea ended up in limbo.

He’d even tried the psychic schtick on Gus just to see how it would work out.  Even though his best bud knew about his eidetic memory, it had been almost too easy to fool him with the trick.  Shawn had managed to already score free dry cleaning, free smoothies, and the sandwiches he carried in for lunch today using his ‘psychic’ abilities to divine possible solutions to various people’s life problems.

He was pretty sure he was ready to fool his favorite head detective, just to make sure that he didn’t get accused of being an accomplice the next time he helped solve a case, which led him to this current moment.

“How else would I know that Jules here has two cats?” He said with a small grin as the woman gasped a bit.  “And this tall guy ... “ Shawn nodded towards an officer who had stopped filing to watch the psychic part play out.  He held his hand up to his head as he had done at the sandwich shop earlier, “McNab? Buzz?  When’s the wedding?”

McNab paused, “... I … How did you know that?  We’ve never even met … Oh that’s amazing.”

“That’s incredible, Shawn!” Juliet said.  Carlton simply narrowed his eyes at the barista.  There was no way this guy was psychic.  A good guesser, maybe.

“Oh!  Anyways, I came here to drop off some food for Lassie~” Shawn cooed, once again holding up the food and smoothie.  He pulled one of the sandwiches and one of the smoothies out, placing them carefully on Carlton’s desk.  “I’ll see you later?”

Looking at the food with a bit of suspicion, he turned his attention back to Shawn.  “Yeah …”

And honestly, someone up above must have really hated him or he had some sort of horrible karma built up (it was probably the time he stole an old woman’s carrot to feed to a horse, but really, the lady wasn’t going to eat it and the horse deserved it more than her anyways), because just like that, Shawn’s lips were on his.

He tried to not act like this was a completely shocking event.  This should be normal for people who have been dating for four months.  Couldn’t Shawn have given him some sort of heads up? Maybe they should have practiced the night before.  Swallowing his pride, he regained his composure (remember: it’s to hone undercover skills!) and returned the kiss awkwardly.

Shawn pulled away with a shit eating grin on his face and Lassiter just wanted to punch him.  “Bye Lassikins~” He gave a wave before skipping out of the station.

Juliet cleared her throat after a bit.  “That was … Uhm … Interesting.”  He could see it written all over her face: BAD KISS. THAT WAS TERRIBLE. THEY CAN’T REALLY BE DATING.

“He knows I hate PDA.  It’s infuriating when he surprises me like that,” Carlton said, which sounded like a decent enough cover.  His partner seemed to agree and he noticed her face drop into something more sympathetic.

“He seems nice, though,” Juliet responded.  “And the whole psychic thing …”

“He’s not a psychic.”

“What?  Then why would he say that?  And how would he know that information … Did you tell him about my cats?”

Well, he hadn’t told Shawn anything about her.  That was quite remarkable, really.  He was still trying to figure out how the barista knew about his mother.  “No … Why would I tell him something like that?  And I certainly haven’t talked about McNab before.”

“Then … How do you explain it?”

Carlton scowled.  He didn’t know.  What he did know was that psychics don’t exist.  “I don’t know.”

He was going to have some choice words for Shawn when he saw him later.

***

Once again, by the time that Lassiter had gotten home, Shawn was rummaging through his kitchen.

“How the hell did you get in here … Again ?  I know for a fact every door and window was locked,” Carlton said with a scowl, putting the takeout food he’d grabbed on the table.

“I told you Lassie Face!  A magician never reveals his secrets.”

“And just what the hell was that all about today?!”  His plan had been to at least dig into his food before he started interrogating Shawn.  At least, that was when he had assumed that he would make it into his own home before Shawn showed up.

Shawn helped himself to the orange juice that was in his fridge as he shrugged, “We’re supposed to be dating.  Not only that, we’re supposed to have been dating for four months , Lassie!  Hell, Emilio Estevez and Ally Sheedy have more of a relationship by the end of The Breakfast Club that you and I have in your coworker’s eyes.”  Shawn plopped down in a seat at the table, motioning for the head detective to take one as well.  “If you wanna really sell this relationship and not give off ‘I hired someone to play my boyfriend for the weekend’ vibes then I needed to be introduced before the big plot point, Lassie!”

Shawn chugged some of the orange juice as Carlton sat, watching him with a frown.  “And the kiss?”

“Oh … Yeah, we’ll definitely need to work on your technique.”

“ Excuse me ?”

“Lassie … That was like … Having your first kiss while playing Seven Minutes in Heaven at a junior school party with Gus’ crush; then having to explain afterwards that it was just a kiss and it seriously meant nothing levels of awkward.”

“That was extremely specific.”  Shawn shrugged.  “Regardless … You caught me off guard!  How else was I supposed to act?”

“Like you enjoyed it?”

Ouch.  Well, maybe he would have enjoyed it more if he had been prepared.

“You should have warned me!”

“Dude … How suspicious would it have been if I told my boyfriend of four months that I was about to kiss him?  You know that they’re probably thinking that by now we’ve already done the horizontal mambo.”  Shawn had a point there.  “It’s probably best to assume that if I lean in like that, I’m probably going to kiss you.  There might not be enough time to give you some sort of weird signal that would be totally suspicious.  Remember: undercover.”

Somehow thinking of it as being undercover made it much better.

Chapter Text

When Thursday rolled around, Carlton was grateful they were leaving relatively early.  It would take nearly fourteen hours to drive up to Salem, Oregon.  Fourteen hours trapped in a car with Shawn.  Thankfully, Juliet had decided to carpool with the Chief and her husband, so Carlton wouldn’t have to pretend that they were dating in the safety of his car.  At least this gave them extra time so they could work on planning out any last details that they might have forgotten the other day.

Carlton was finishing packing the last of his bags into his car when he saw a small blue car pull up to the curb.  He rose a brow as he saw Shawn pop out of the car, a huge grin on his face.

“Lassie!”

“Spe-- … Shawn.”  Yeah, he should probably practice that on the trip.

Skipping over to him, Shawn placed a quick kiss to Carlton’s cheek, catching the detective off guard.  He was ready to scold him when Lassiter noticed another male standing at the back of the blue car.  Shawn noticed and grinned, “Lassie~  This is the T.C. to my Magnum, Burton “Sillypants” Guster.  Or just Gus.  Gus is much better.  Gus, this is my muy fantastico boyfriend, Carlton Lassiter … But Lassie is so much better.”

Was this some sort of “meet the boyfriend’s friends” thing?  Technically Shawn had met Juliet, so, it was probably only fair that he officially meet Guster.  He could do this.

Moving over, he held out his hand to shake.  “Guster.”

Gus rose a curious brow at being called his full last name.  Whatever.  Shawn was calling the guy by his last name.  “Lassiter.”  Shaking his hand, he gave the detective the best intimidating look he could, lowering his voice so Shawn couldn’t hear as he loaded up his bags into Carlton’s car, “I believe it goes without saying that if you hurt Shawn, there will be zero forgiveness.”

It took everything in him not to laugh.  “… Are you … threatening me, Guster?”

“No threats.  Promises.”

“Do you tell this to all of Shawn’s boyfriends?”

“Usually he doesn’t do second dates, at least not lately … Four months is … Pretty serious for him.”  So, Shawn had told his best friend the same lie.  He must have been practicing.  Lassiter really should commend him on his commitment to the story, though; he supposed that someone like Shawn probably told his best friend everything and this probably broke some sort of friend code.  “So, as best friend, and obvious choice for best man down the line, it’s my duty to make sure Shawn doesn’t get hurt.”

Lassiter would question Shawn about the second dates statement later.  He gave a stiff nod to Gus before glancing over to see Shawn dragging the last of his bags from the blue car to Carlton’s.  How much did he pack??  “I make no promises, but I don’t plan on hurting Shawn.”

Gus watched him for a moment, as if trying to determine if Carlton was lying, before he finally gave a nod.  “Don’t let him boss you around too much,” He said, trying to lighten the mood.

Carlton shook his head, giving a small smile. As if Shawn could boss him around. “I definitely don’t plan on letting him boss me around at all.”

Gus gave a snort, “Good luck.”  He turned his attention back to Shawn.  “Shawn!  Is that my neck pillow?!”

Carlton watched as Gus stormed over to Shawn who was now sporting a bright blue neck pillow around his neck.  He gave a pained sigh as he watched the two argue over the pillow.  Shawn insisted he needed it for lumbar support (“Your lumbar is in the lower part of your back, Shawn.  Not your neck.”) and eventually Gus threw his hands up in defeat, letting Shawn take it.  Gus turned back and gave Carlton an exasperated look.

“He’s all yours.”

The head detective wasn’t sure if he was prepared for that or not.  He watched as Gus got into his car and took off before he turned his attention to Shawn.  “Let’s go.  We have a long drive ahead of us.”

“Anytime you get tired, lemme know!”  Shawn said happily as he went to plop down in the passenger seat that he had already made home.

Carlton locked the door to his home before sliding into the driver’s seat, “You’re not driving my car, Spencer.”

“You say that now.”

The head detective wasn’t going to dignify that with an answer.  The first thirty minutes or so were actually pretty decent.  Shawn was stuffing Red Vines into his mouth and Carlton wondered if he should write a letter to the American Licorice Company to thank them for providing him with this quiet time.  Of course, Lassiter knew it wouldn’t last long.  Quiet never lasted long when Spencer was around.  Shawn soon dug around in his backpack, pulling out an iPod.

“Hey Lass … Do you have an auxiliary cord?”

“What?  No?  Why would I have one?”

“Good thing I brought one with me!”  Digging around in his bag once again, he pulled out an auxiliary cord, shoving it into the port.  A moment later, Whitesnake began to play through the speakers.

“Spencer!”

“Shawn.”

“Shawn.  Turn this crap off.”

Shawn gasped and Lassiter looked around to see if he missed a car crash from the way he had reacted.  “Lassie,” he hissed out.  “How dare you call Whitesnake ‘ crap ’.”

Honestly, he shouldn’t have been so surprised.  The detective weighed his options for a moment.  He knew that Shawn wouldn’t stand for silence for too long, so either he would have to listen to him rambling on about who knows what or he would have to suffer through Shawn’s music.  If he had to listen to Shawn ramble on, he would no doubt be forced into an actual conversation.  

The music seemed to be the lesser of two evils.

After listening to the entire self-titled Whitesnake album, followed by Bon Jovi’s Slippery When Wet , and finishing with Mötley Crüe’s Girls, Girls, Girls album (all which were announced by Shawn before they played as if he were teaching Carlton which album was which), the head detective realized that they had killed nearly two and a half hours of their trip in semi-silence.  Carlton didn’t even seem to mind Shawn’s singing or his random trivia (“Hey Lassie, did you know that Nikki Sixx was declared dead the year this album came out?  It’s okay though ‘cause he wasn’t dead for long.  He actually woke up, went home, and took more drugs.  Sex, drugs, and rock and roll, am I right?”)

He needed to stretch his legs (and get that damn Wanted Dead or Alive song out of his head), so he found himself pulling over to the next rest stop he saw.  “Go to the bathroom and stretch your legs.  We still have almost twelve hours to go and I want to cover as much distance as possible before our next break.”

Sliding out of the car, he first headed to the bathroom before finding the vending machines.  He really hated vending machine coffee but it was easier to just get some here rather than pulling off at another exit to hunt down some overpriced coffee joint.  As his coffee was vending, he looked over to see Shawn staring at the snacks in the vending machine a few down from him.  He already had a Red Bull in his hand and it seemed like he was trying to make up his mind on his next purchase.

“Don’t you have enough snacks in the car?”

“Lassie, there are never enough snacks for a fourteen hour drive.  I might have enough to make it ‘til we stop for lunch … But after that, all bets are off.”

Carlton rolled his eyes before grabbing his coffee that had finished.  Supplying the dark liquid with his usual amount of sugars and creamers, he walked outside, looking around at the other travelers that were stretching his legs like he was.  He had managed to not murder Shawn yet.  So far, so good.

“Lassiieee~  You ready to go yet?”

The head detective paused as he looked over towards Shawn who was already sitting happily in the passenger seat.  “I’ve already got Tears for Fears’ Songs from the Big Chair lined up!”

Carlton groaned to himself.  Okay, he’d let Shawn have one more album and then that was it.  That would probably kill another hour of their drive pretty easily.  Sliding into the car, he put his coffee in the cupholder and started the car.  Almost as soon as he had started backing out, Shawn had pressed start on his iPod and begun to belt out “Shout”, complete with interpretive dance.

By the time the Tears for Fears album ended, Carlton was done listening to men with too much makeup, power ballads, and 80’s British pop rock bands.  “Alright, Spen-- Shawn.  Turn it off.”

“What?  No!  Just one more, c’mon Lassie.”

The head detective groaned.  If sitting through one more song meant he would be done with with 80’s mix, he could probably handle that.  “One more song.   Song .  Not an entire album.”

Shawn scrunched up his face before it lit up in such a way that Carlton regretted giving him another chance. It only took a moment before the familiar bars of “Eye of the Tiger” began to play over his speakers.  Carlton looked over at him, “… Seriously?”

In response, Shawn began to belt out the lyrics, causing Lassiter to roll his eyes.  As soon as the song was over, the detective reached over and turned off the radio, ignoring the pout that came from his passenger.  Shawn gave a sigh but returned to staring out of the window.

Once the silence and thoughts swirling around in his head became too much, Carlton finally glanced over.  “Guster said that you don’t usually do second dates … Why?”

Shawn raised a brow before snorting.  “I do go on second dates … Occasionally.  People just … bore me.”  What did Gus know?  Shawn didn’t tell him everything.  Just, like, 99.9% of things.  This whole fake boyfriends thing, for instance, was one thing Shawn didn’t exactly tell Gus.  At least, he left out the ‘fake’ part.  The less people who knew about the ‘fake’ part, the better.  Shawn didn’t report back to him every time he went on a second or even third date, but the barista was always sure to tell Gus about the ones that went wrong (and thus didn’t make it to second or third dates).

“What was your longest relationship?”

“This one?”

Carlton glanced over at his passenger, who was smirking.  Well, that was a good answer … “What was your longest real relationship?”

Shawn hummed in thought, tapping his finger against his jaw.  “Three and a half … Almost four months.  I had practically moved in by that point.”

“Girl or guy?”

“Girl.  What about you?  Wanna tell me more about your ex-wife?”

Carlton frowned a bit.  He had already told Shawn the basics about Victoria and he really hadn’t wanted to talk about her anymore.  Shawn had all the information he would need if someone questioned him about her.  Hell, he’d even gone through their wedding album one night at Carlton’s house (not that he had offered it to him, but Shawn had found it while Lassiter had gone to the bathroom).  After a moment, he shook his head.

“Alright, fair enough,” Shawn hummed.  “… What about the last time you were with a guy?”

The tips of Carlton’s ears turned red as he thought about it.  “I was a senior in college.  Adrian Quinn was a junior but took a few senior level classes; that’s how I met him.  He was smart, a quick thinker that challenged me in our classes.  I asked him out for dinner, which led to us dating for most of the school year … Then … I don’t know,” Lassiter said, his face dropping some.  “… He just … Left.  Said he couldn’t do it anymore and called it off and then I never saw him again after that.  I never saw him the next school year.”

“Have you ever tried to Facebook stalk him?”

“What?  No.  Why would I do that?”

“You’ve tried looking up people’s police records before dating them, haven’t you?”

Carlton huffed a bit. “Once or twice.”

“You’ve already looked up mine.”

“How did you know that?”

Shawn smirked a bit, holding his hand up to his head.  “Psychic.  Anyways, Facebook stalking is the same as looking up someone’s police records.  Just … easier.”

He never was really sure what happened to Adrian and he had never really thought to look him up in their department database to see if he got any hits.  Carlton had thought things were going well but … Clearly they hadn’t been.  He had really liked him.  Adrian was brilliant but he never rubbed it in the detective’s face; never made fun of Carlton when he couldn’t solve a problem before him and would always walk Carlton through the problem to try and help him reach the answer.

Maybe there were outside factors that made Adrian suddenly call it quits.  He vaguely remembered there being some issues with his father.  However, Carlton was almost sure that it had been something he’d done.  Maybe Adrian had wanted something casual and Lassiter was ruining it by falling in love with him.

After all, Victoria had left him too.  Clearly, Carlton was doing something wrong.

Shawn had begun to ramble on about some smoothie related nonsense, filling the silence.  As annoying as he was, Carlton was actually surprised to find himself not despising the car ride as he had anticipated.  Maybe this wasn’t going to be so terrible.

“Did you and Adrian … y’know … do the bedroom rodeo?  Assault him with a friendly weapon?  Rough up the suspect?  Do the pants off dance off?”

He took it back.  This trip was horrible.

Lassiter looked positively disgusted, “Why do you know so many euphemisms?”

“That’s not an answer to the question.”

“Yes.  Of course we did.  Not that it’s any of your business,” Carlton grumbled some.

“Uh, as your first boyfriend since college, I’m pretty sure that means it is my business,” Shawn said, sticking his tongue out at the detective.

To be honest, Carlton had already told Shawn more than he was comfortable with, but that unfortunately came with fake dating someone for four months.  He should have just told the truth and endured the nonstop blind date invitations.

“I think it’s pretty shitty what he did,” Shawn said after a while.

Carlton nearly swerved, “… What?”

“You heard me, Lass.  I said I think it’s pretty shitty what he did.  He didn’t give you a reason for leaving?  Didn’t tell you why it couldn’t work?  I mean, it seems like he meant a lot to you … ‘Least he could have done was to tell you why he couldn’t do it …” Shawn explained bluntly.  “Hell, even if whatever reason he had pissed you off, at least it wouldn’t leave you questioning what happened or whether you could have worked it out or not.”

Okay, he certainly hadn’t expected that from Shawn. It did make him feel better, though.

“What do you want to eat for lunch?”

Just like that, Carlton changed the subject to something he was more comfortable with.  Shawn perked up, all previous conversation seemingly lost.

“Tacos!  Oh man.  There’s gotta be a place to get a good taco around here.  Or burrito.  I’m not picky.”

Shawn began to ramble on something about salsa and the perfect ratio of whatever to whatever. The familiarity of their coffee shop relationship helped to calm Lassiter some.  He knew that as soon as they got to the hotel, however, and he had to kick it into full boyfriend mode, it would be a different story.

It didn’t take long for Carlton to find a small Mexican restaurant.  He requested a booth in the corner so he could easily see the entire restaurant from his vantage point (just in case).  The entire time, Shawn had continued to ramble on.  After they ordered, Shawn snapped his fingers to get Carlton’s attention.

“Hellooooo?  Lassieee?”

Focusing on the male in front of him, he frowned a bit.  “What?”

“I asked you whether you prefer salsa or queso?”

“Does it really matter?”  He asked, grabbing one of the free chips that had been placed in front of him, munching on it.

“You can tell a lot about a man by his choice.”

So what?  Now he was supposed to bring a suspect in and have him choose between salsa or queso?  What a stupid idea.  “Don’t be an idiot.”

“Salsa or queso?” Shawn asked, undeterred.

Carlton frowned.  Shawn seemed like he wasn’t going to relent unless he answered.  “Salsa.”

Immediately Shawn’s face lit up, “Spicy~ And delicious.  It’s like a red, liquidy version of you.”  Carlton choked on the water he was drinking, the tips of his ears turning red as Shawn continued, “And now just the liquidy version of you now that you’re all red …”

“Shut up, Spencer.”

“Make me.”

Carlton scowled.  It was like talking to a kid.  How could a grown man act like this?  And he was supposed to be dating him?  He needed to figure out some endearing qualities quickly so he could make this whole damn fake dating thing look real.  Could he count random trivia as an endearing quality?

Shawn paused his shoveling of chips into his mouth to give the detective a smirk, “So … What did my record say?”

It took a moment for Carlton to figure out just where the question had come from.  “That you were arrested when you were eighteen for reckless driving without a license.”

“That would have been the work of my dad,” He grinned as his food was placed in front of him, digging in happily.  “He thought that it would ‘teach me a lesson’.”

“Did it?”

“That’s diabolical.”

“I-- … I think you mean debatable?”

“I’ve heard it both ways.”

Carlton opened his mouth to argue with him but thought better of it.  He had food in front of him to enjoy.  As he ate, Shawn continued to ramble on, telling Lassiter about the time that he had spent in Mexico as a cliff diver for a week before venturing on to work at a taqueria for a month.  He didn’t think he had ever met someone with such an eccentric resume; especially not someone who voluntarily switched jobs so frequently.  He could probably add that to his ‘endearing qualities’ list.

“You seem like you’d probably be pretty dominant in the bedroom.  Are you into that kind of thing?”

Every time Carlton was comfortable with the conversation, Shawn knew exactly how to burst that bubble.  “Is now really the time to discuss something like that?”

Shawn swallowed part of his burrito, “Any time is a time to discuss sexy times.  Sort of.  Anyways, as someone who has fake done the wild thing with Head Detective Lassiter, I wanna know how good it was.  Did you blow my mind?”  He paused, smirking and leaning closer, “Did you blow other things? Did I blow other things?”

Immediately, Carlton was turning red once more.  Two could play at this game.  He wasn’t going to let Shawn win.  Growing serious, he leaned forward slightly, “You were begging for more until you couldn’t speak any longer.  It was so good, you blacked out for a bit afterwards.  And yes … You did blow other things.”

It was clear from the stunned look on Shawn’s face that he hadn’t expected the detective to respond and certainly not in the serious, almost promise-of-things-to-come (no pun intended) way that Carlton had spoke.  Shawn took a moment to recover, swallowing the lump in his throat.  “You sure you don’t want to have a practice run?”

Lassiter simply gave a snort in response and worked on finishing his food.  That was one point for him.

Once they had finally paid and set on the road again, Carlton had relaxed some, despite the sexual questions that had originally put him out of his comfort zone.  He even grown accustomed to Shawn’s 1980’s playlist that they had returned to and the need to retrieve snacks every time they pulled over to a rest stop.  As they got closer to their destination, however, he progressively became more and more tense.

It was one thing to tolerate Shawn; it was another to pretend that they had been dating for four months.  As the Chief had stated, four months was a big deal for him.  Carlton wasn’t someone who liked to casually date, whereas Shawn seemed to be perfectly okay with it (and one night stands).  For him to pull off the illusion of dating the barista for four months, he was going to have to seem crazy about him.  They had barely managed to do it when Shawn had stopped by the station and now they were going to have to do it for days, with their bedtime being the only real reprieve.

Shawn seemed to notice the way that Carlton gripped the steering wheel tightly.  “Hey … Dude.  It’s gonna be okay … Take a deep breath.  Count to ten.”

Carlton grit his teeth together before mentally counting to ten.  It wasn’t until he had got to seven that his hands loosened slightly on the steering wheel.

“See?  Its gonna be alright.  Just don’t think about it being fake,” Shawn said shrugging some.  “Remember … It’s just undercover work.  You’ve probably done tons of undercover jobs, right?”  Carlton grunted in response.  “Same thing.  Don’t worry about me slipping up, I’m a pro at improv.”

Carlton couldn’t help but worry.  Shawn seemed like he was good at improv and undercover work, but really, he didn’t know him that well.  Once again he was regretting this decision immensely.

Pulling into the hotel, he took a deep breath.  It was show time.  Grabbing his bags, he left Shawn’s bags for him to get then led the two of them into the hotel to check in.  On the plus side, the hotel seemed to have several different kinds of coffee as part of their breakfast bar.  No more vending machine coffee for a few days.  Things were looking up.

Of course, by now, Carlton should have known better than to think things were finally going his way.  Stepping into their room, he was greeted to a rather spacious room, complete with a desk, a small table (with “A welcome basket?!  Dude!  There’s pineapple!  This is suh-weeeet!”), a couple rather comfortable looking chairs, a large bathroom, and a single king sized bed.

“… Oh sweet lady justice,” Carlton grumbled.  The Chief had booked their rooms and, of course, she had given Carlton one bed.  After all, he was supposed to be dating the guy he had brought with him.

Shawn seemed to figure out what the head detective had an issue with.  Licking his lips, he grinned some, “Dibs on the side closest to the window!”

“I’m not sleeping in that bed with you.”

“What?  I mean, where else are you going to sleep then??”

Looking around the room, he nodded towards the chairs.  “I’ll just sleep in a chair … Or on the floor.”

“Lassie, that’s dumb.  The bed is huge, we can share.”

Carlton shot him a look that said it wasn’t up for discussion.  He was supposed to safe here in his room.  They weren’t supposed to be playing pretend in here.  The male’s phone going off brought him back to the present.  Flipping the phone open, he grumbled, “Lassiter.”

Shawn rolled his eyes at Carlton as he began to give small ‘uh huh’s into the phone.  The bed was big enough so … What was the big deal?  Shawn could share.

“The Chief, her husband, and O’Hara are going to be here soon.  She said they’d meet us for dinner.”  Carlton paused, pointing an accusatory finger at Shawn.  “You will be on your best behavior.  Understood?”

He shook his head, “Could you maybe say it in Spanish?  Pig Latin?  Ohhh … Swahili?”

“Spencer.”

The barista tisked at him, “It’s Shawn.  Remember?”

“If I call you Shawn, then you have to call me Carlton.”

Shawn rolled his eyes.  He’d already told him that Lassie was a perfectly good and acceptable nickname for him.  Spencer was not a nickname.  When Carlton had decided that talk time was over, he began to unpack and hang his suits up while putting the rest of his clothes in the drawers.  Shawn was content enough to simply unpack the welcome package.

By dinner, Shawn and Carlton were waiting at a table for the rest of their party.  Soon enough, an exhausted looking Karen and Juliet, followed by a man, arrived, plopping down into the empty chairs.  The Chief gave a small, tired smile before holding her hand out, “You must be Carlton’s boyfriend … I believe O’Hara said your name was Shawn Spencer?”

Shawn grinned brightly, looking to Juliet, “You talked about me?”  He turned his attention back to Karen, shaking her hand, “That’d be me!”

“I’m Chief Karen Vick.  This is my husband, Richard.”  She watched as the two men shook hands.  As soon as the waiter stopped by, she ordered wine for the table.  “O’Hara told me that you said the two of you met at a coffee shop?”

He nodded, sipping his pineapple daiquiri he had ordered before the rest of their party had arrived.  “I mean, technically, we unofficially met once before that … But that’s not how we really met.  We really met at the coffee shop.”

This seemed to intrigue everyone, including Carlton.  Karen cleared her throat, “And unofficially?”

Shawn laughed, “We met in the 90’s when Lass here was a rookie cop~.  He had this really awful mustache … But like I said, we didn’t officially meet, so it doesn’t count.  He was just at the station when my dad decided to bring me in to ‘teach me a lesson’.”  He glanced over at the detective, giving him a loving look, “Thankfully he got rid of that mustache though … It was awful.”

Carlton tried not to stare too hard.  The first thing that caught him off guard was the memory that Shawn spurted out.  There was no way that Shawn remembered something like that.  Hell, he didn’t even remember anything like that.  He did have the mustache at one time, though.  Maybe Shawn had seen it in pictures?

The second thing that caught him off guard was the way that Shawn looked at him.  It was the same head-over-heels look he had been known to give Victoria when they first got married.  Shawn looked at him as though he was the whole world and he would do anything to protect it.  The look made him swallow thickly.  Shawn was just putting on an act.  He didn’t mean it.

“Shawn is also a psychic!”  Juliet said excitedly.

Just like that, the loving look was gone as he turned his attention back to the table.  Carlton let out a breath he didn’t realize he had begun to hold.  Who the hell was this guy to give him such a look?  Shawn had begun to do ‘psychic readings’ of the Chief and her husband (“Oh … I see sleepless nights … So, so many sleepless nights … Eighteen years of them?  Did you recently have a child?”  “O’Hara, did you tell him that?”  “Of course not!”) as Carlton turned his attention to the free bread on the table.

He was glad that Shawn seemed to get along so well with his coworkers, but at the same time, he almost wished he didn’t.  When they eventually broke up, no doubt they would believe it was all his fault; that somehow he had screwed up again.  He hadn’t realized how detached from the current conversation at the table he’d been until Shawn placed a hand over his.

“Sorry for Lassie being all quiet.  He had to drive the whole way because someone can’t share driving his precious car, so he’s exhausted,” Shawn said, covering for him.  Someone must have asked him a question.  “Plus, I was educating him on why Whitesnake is not crap like he insisted.”

Carlton rolled his eyes, flipping his hand over so their palms met, trying to not act surprised as Shawn’s fingers immediately intertwined with his own.  “You’re not driving my car because no one drives it but me.  I still stand by my original assessment that Whitesnake is crap.”

Juliet’s face contorted into something that looked like … Admiration?  Was she actually believing this dating crap?  Either he was really good at being undercover (most likely) or his junior detective needed to work more on her observational skills.

The rest of the dinner went surprisingly well.  They discussed the drive up (“I tried to tell Lassie that we needed to stop by the Golden Gate Fortune Cookie Factory, but he shut that idea down quicker than the life of a watermelon when Gallagher gets his hands on it.”), what sessions they had been planning on going to, and made plans for dinner the next day.  Once they said their goodnights, they headed off to their hotel rooms for their early morning.

As soon as they had arrived back to their room, Lassiter relaxed.  Everyone seemed to be buying the whole dating act.  Shawn grinned, “See?  I told you everything was going to be fine.  I’m gonna go shower.”

Rolling his eyes, Carlton waved him off, letting him go shower first while he flipped on the television to a marathon of The First 48, relaxing more.  Everything was going fine until Shawn emerged from the bathroom in a cloud of steam.  The younger male was wearing only a pair of boxers, drying his hair with a towel around his shoulders.

Oh.   Oh .

Carlton cleared his throat, frowning some.  “Put some clothes on,” He grumbled before getting up.  He needed to get out of the room immediately.  “I’m going to shower.  You better have not used all of the hot water.”

Storming into the bathroom, he ignored the confused look on Shawn’s face as he looked down at his state of dress.  Who did he think he was?  They were fake dating.  That didn’t give him permission to just wander around practically naked.  Rude.  Now he was stuck trying to get the image of Spencer out of his head.

By the time he walked out in his pajama set, he glanced over to Shawn cautiously.  Spencer was sitting on the bed in a pair of worn pajama pants and an Apple Jacks t-shirt watching Spongebob Squarepants.  That was significantly better.  Carlton moved over to the chairs, starting to adjust them so that he could lay on them and get some sleep.

“Lassie, cmon … You’re not seriously going to sleep in those chairs, are you?”

“I’m not sleeping in that bed with you.”

Shawn gave an exaggerated groan.  “Lassiepants … It’s a king sized bed.  There’s plenty of room.  You’re gonna need a good sleep before tomorrow.”

The detective scowled.  He really, really didn’t want to have to sleep in that bed with Shawn, but he knew that he needed a decent night’s sleep.  If he didn’t, he might not be on top of his game when it came to playing undercover.  Quietly weighing all of his choices and their outcomes, he finally crawled into the bed as far away from Shawn as he could possibly get.

“Turn the television off, it’s bedtime.”

“But Lasssiiieeee …”

“No.  Turn it off, now.”

Shawn gave an honest-to-god whine but turned off the television and the bedside lamp.  With a small huff, he joined Carlton under the blankets.  Rolling over so that their backs were facing each other, the detective sat in the dark for a while, simply listening to the noises around them.  Shawn’s annoyed huffing at being told to go to bed earlier than he wanted.  Some guests having muffled hotel sex somewhere down the hall.  The female couple across the hall giggling as they drunkenly fought to open their door with their card key.  Eventually, he noted that Shawn’s breathing had finally evened out, signaling he’d fallen asleep.

Carlton followed close behind him.

Chapter Text

Carlton’s inner alarm clock began to go off far before the external, physical alarm on his phone and he fought to stay asleep.  It helped that this had possibly been one of the best nights of sleep he had had in a long time and if he could just get his foggy mind to slip back into it for another hour, he’d be ecstatic.  However, it seemed his mind had other plans for him.

Slowly, the head detective’s mind supplied him with the reason behind his comfort: this was the first time in years that he had woke up next to someone.

Not just next to someone, but plastered to their back; his face buried in soft, short tropical-scented hair and an arm wrapped around a warm waist, hand slipped underneath what he knew was a green Apple Jacks shirt.  Sadly enough, that wasn’t the worst of it.

The worst was the morning wood he was sporting pressed against the rear of the snoring male he was cuddled up against.

He had to figure out a way to untangle himself from Shawn.  He wasn’t sure just how heavy of a sleeper he was.  Cautiously, Carlton slid his arm and hand away from Shawn’s midsection.  So far, so good.  Finally managing to peel himself away without much more than a sleep-snort from Shawn, Carlton practically ran to the bathroom.  Without thinking too much further, he quickly turned the shower on, stripping down, and slipped into the shower.

Great.  Why did this have to happen now?  This was part of the reason he wanted separate beds.  He could still feel the warmth of Shawn on his body.  Before he realized what he was doing, his hand had already wandered down to wrap around his ‘problem’.  Oh he should definitely not do this.  This was a bad idea.  Yet, that didn't stop his hand from slowly stroking.  If he thought about it as stress relief to take care of a natural reaction to waking up pressed to another warm, good looking body, it didn't seem as bad.

Once he had finished and showered (yet again), he wrapped a towel around his waist.  He’d forgotten to grab his clothes in his rush to the bathroom.  If he was lucky, which he knew was not true at all, Shawn would still be asleep.  Pausing at the door to the rest of the hotel room, he frowned as he heard the television on.  If this was his morning, he could only imagine how the rest of the day was going to go.

Slipping out of the bathroom, he purposefully walked over to the dresser under the television, ignoring the eyes he knew watched him.

“Didn’t you shower last night, Lassie?”

“It was too hot in the room last night.  I felt like I needed a shower.  We should lower the temperature on the thermostat tonight.”

Shawn gave a nod in acknowledgement.  Good … He was in the clear.  Grabbing a pair of undergarments and a suit from where he had hung them, he returned to the bathroom to get dressed.  As soon as he was out, he turned to look at Shawn.  “Go on and get dressed.  We can go down to the breakfast buffet before all the good food is gone.”

“I knew you loved giving orders in the bedroom,” Shawn said with a smirk, getting up to do as Carlton had told him to do.

Carlton’s ears turned red as he tried to ignore the comment that simply reminded him of his time in the shower that morning.  He knew that had been a terrible decision.

After snapping at Shawn for taking too long (“Seriously? How much more time do you need to spend on your hair?!” “Lassie, perfection takes time.”), Carlton had decided to just go down to the buffet by himself.  Shawn could join him whenever he got his hair in ‘perfect’ shape; however long that took.  Arriving at the breakfast lounge, he gave a small wave to his partner, who looked far too awake.

Carlton sat down across from Juliet once he’d grabbed his coffee and a small assortment of breakfast items.  “I take it you slept well?”

“Actually, I did!  And I’m really excited for the first panel,” She said, smiling as she bit into a piece of cantaloupe.

“Which one are you going to?”

“Body Cams: The Risk Management Tool Law Enforcement Needs.”

Carlton nodded.  He remembered seeing that one and had briefly thought about going to it.  It had sounded promising, but if O’Hara was going to go to it, he might as well pick something else and compare notes later.

“What about you?”

“Historical Roots of Policing and Modern Day Pioneers.”

Juliet couldn’t help but give a small laugh, “Somehow I knew that would be the one you would want to attend.”  Carlton scowled; was he really that predictable?  “Are you excited about the Meet and Greet later?”

That was probably the worst event on the schedule, in Carlton’s opinion.  He really didn’t see the point of it when he could just enjoy his spare time watching COPS.  “No.  I have absolutely no desire to go to that.”

“It’s good to know our colleagues in the field.  We make connections and then if a problem comes up later on we have someone we can call!”

Rolling his eyes, Carlton focused on his coffee.  He knew that Juliet had a point, but he also knew that most of the people going that evening were more interested in the free drinks than actually meeting colleagues.

Without warning, Shawn plopped down in the seat next to Carlton, a grin spread over his face as he eyed his stack of waffles.  “I think the old lady over there is angry that I stole use of all three waffle makers, but I really wanted three waffles and I didn’t want to wait.”

Looking up, Carlton caught sight of an older woman, probably in her seventies, glaring daggers at Shawn.  Juliet chimed in, “You might want to watch out … She could throw her dentures at you.”

“Ew … Gross …” Shawn said, wrinkling his nose.

“You’d be amazed at what those old people are capable of.  Then they pretend they’re senile to get away with it,” Carlton scowled, clearly remembering some run in he had had with a geriatric.  Shawn would have to get the details on that one another time.

Juliet smiled as she turned her attention to Shawn, “What panel are you going to this morning?”

“Partners Beyond the Station: Supporting Your Law Enforcement Loved One.  I would have come up with a better title if I wrote it, but I guess they can’t all be winners.”

She gave a laugh, “Will the Chief’s husband be with you?”

“I think so.  I’m pretty sure that’s one he had planned on attending, but to be honest, I’m sure he already knows how to support his law enforcement loved one.”

“I know Carlton said that he wasn’t excited for the Meet and Greet, but are you?”

“Are you kidding me?”  Shawn asked around a mouthful of waffle.  “Free alcohol?  Of course I’m excited! I hope they have pineapple daiquiris!”  Carlton gave an annoyed grunt.  

“I’m not staying there any longer than I have to.”

Juliet gave her partner a smile.  “You two really are the epitome of opposites attract, aren’t you?”

The two paused to look at each other before Carlton nodded.  Shawn supplied, “He’s the North Pole to my South Pole.  He’s the Moon to my Sun.”

Carlton rolled his eyes, “No need to get sappy.”

“I could serenade you with a power ballad.”

“I think you did enough of that on the drive up and, for some reason, I have no doubt that you’ll do the exact same thing on the ride back.”

“You know me too well, Lassie~.  Is this what they mean when they say it was ‘meant to be’?  Jules, you should write that in a wedding speech.  I have a feeling that Lass here will ask you to be his best woman.  I’d ask you, but that spot is already taken and if I give it up, Gus might finally snap.”

“He did say something about being the obvious choice for best man when he dropped you off.”

Juliet couldn’t stop herself from laughing, “Well, if Lassiter would like me to be his ‘best woman’, I would gladly do so.  Does that mean I should plan a bachelor or bachelorette party?”

“Bachelor for him, all the scotch and whiskey you can supply.  I, on the other hand, will gladly take all of the male strippers, whipped cream, pineapple mixed drinks, and pink, fluffy tiaras that Party Hardy Party Supply Store has to offer.”

“There will be no male, or female, strippers, Shawn,” Carlton practically growled out, hoping that he sounded more jealous than angry.

Shawn gave him an impressed look.  Carlton had managed to use his name without stumbling.  Catching himself, he pouted some, “Aw c’mon … It’s my party …”

“Absolutely not. You can cry if you want to.”

That was that.  Shawn had sulked for all of a minute then began to chatter on to Juliet about random things to get to know her better.  They seemed as though they could be good friends, but Carlton’s thoughts had drifted elsewhere as he ate his bagel.  

What would it be like being married to Shawn Spencer?  That seemed like it could be a disaster.  He probably never kept his house clean and probably only ever ate takeout or leftovers he’d scored from other people.  He probably would take all of the hot water in the shower just to spite someone or take the last bit of coffee and not make a new pot.  If last night had any indication, he didn’t seem to be someone who stole blankets, but Carlton could be proved wrong there.

He wasn’t even sure why they had entertained the joking idea of marriage.  It did seem to squash any doubts Juliet had had about their relationship, but now she would just be disappointed when they eventually called things off after this retreat.  He secretly wondered if the two of them, now planning a smoothie date after the retreat (“We can trade war stories about Lassie!”), would still hang out after Shawn and Carlton ‘broke up’.  He hoped that they did; he didn’t want to ruin a budding friendship.

Carlton glanced down at his watch, frowning a bit, “The first sessions are about to start, we should get to our panel rooms.”

“Should we meet back here for lunch?”  O’Hara asked, “We can talk about our sessions and compare notes before the afternoon sessions?”

“That sounds like a good idea.”

“I’ll let you all know just how wonderful Partners Beyond the Station is.  I know you’re all dying to know,” Shawn said with a snicker.

Carlton rolled his eyes, mumbling a ‘I’ll see the two of you later’ before heading off to his first session.  If he was honest, this would probably be the best session of the day.  Nothing like a little history to start off the morning.

Once the session was over (with Carlton correcting a couple of the panelists historical information, of course), he made his way back towards their lunch table, where Juliet and Shawn had already settled in to chat.

“And then Mrs. Jones burst into tears when the panelist told her that texting her husband, who is new to the force, every five minutes to find out if her husband was okay was definitely normal- ish , but she totally should cut back because it’s probably going to get him into a lot of trouble.”

“She sounds crazy,” Carlton said, sitting down in one of the empty chairs.

“Carlton!”

“I mean … Lassie, I’d probably text you nonstop if we were in their position.  Instead, I know you’re a seasoned detective, so I don’t feel the need to text you every five minutes.  Plus, I know you wouldn’t answer and I won’t let my emojis go to waste like that.”  

Carlton rolled his eyes at Shawn, “And the crying?”

“Oh you missed my story about sobbing when they brought up what to do when your gruff, Irish detective won’t snuggle you at night.  Lassie.  How can I be your Partner Beyond the Station when you won’t cuddle me like a teddy bear?”

Carlton scowled at Shawn, who quickly broke out into laughter.  Juliet shook her head, knowing better than to get on Carlton’s bad side.  “How was your session, Carlton?  Did you enjoy it?  When we get back to Santa Barbara, I can compile all my notes from the Body Cams session and share them with you.”

“I would appreciate that,” He said with a small nod.  “It was a good session.  A couple of the panelists had no clue what the hell they were talking about.  Could you believe that one of them didn’t know what J. Edgar Hoover’s first job was?  What kind of research are they doing?”

“No Lassie, I absolutely cannot believe that!”  Shawn said with an aggravated huff.  “I mean, c’mon!  Who doesn’t know that he was a rodeo clown when he was sixteen?”

“He wasn’t a--” Carlton paused as a smile broke out over Shawn’s face.  What an ass.  The head detective frowned more, deciding to simply count to ten and drink the water in front of him to avoid punching the smile off of his face.

The rest of lunch and even their afternoon sessions continued much the same.  Playful (Juliet’s words) banter between the two supplied much of the conversation at lunch and followed them into dinner.  The Chief had been busy with her own leadership sessions, even preparing to be a panelist the following day (“Well, the guy who was supposed to be on the panel got sick and they asked if I could step in.  No, Carlton, you’re not obligated to go to this panel just because I’m on it.”), and was grateful for the break.  Richard Vick and Shawn told the group about the ‘for loved ones’ panels they had gone to and how most of them were more for their entertainment purposes than informational and they looked forward to what the next day would bring.

Before long, it was time for the Meet and Greet cocktail hour.  Really, Carlton didn’t see the point of it.  There were a lot of business cards being handed back and forth, war stories being told, and a lot of attempts to one-up other guests.

Carlton rolled his eyes as Shawn went into another story about his time driving the weinermobile to the couple that had decided to chit chat with them.  Just because the retreat had offered up free wine and told everyone to “mingle” didn’t mean they had to.  He kept trying to stay on the outer edges of the room, but Shawn continually roped him back into the thick of the retreat-goers.  Thankfully the couple seemed to finally have their fill of The Adventures of Shawn Spencer and had excused themselves.  He pouted, turning back to Carlton to whine about it (no doubt) when a voice caught his attention.

“Carlton?”

Lassiter froze, turning to face the person who had called him.  A male his age, sporting some silver in his own dark hair with a body that looked well toned in his fitted suit, looked at him curiously for a moment as if unsure if he’d gotten the right person; his face brightening with a smile as soon as he realized that the man in front of him was indeed who he thought it was.  

“Carlton Lassiter, it is you!”

Shawn moved closer to Carlton curiously, looking up to him to find out who this mystery guy was.  The way that Lassiter had gone stiff and pale put Shawn on edge.  Was it a former criminal mastermind?  Someone that Lassiter had put away?  The guy didn’t look like a criminal mastermind, more like those hot older hipster dudes that sometimes made their way to Shawn’s internet history.

“Adrian.”

Oh fuck .

Immediately, Shawn’s hand found it’s way to Carlton’s, intertwining their fingers to ground the detective, who seemed to relax ever slightly, though the hand on his wine glass looked ready to snap the stem in half.

Adrian smiled brightly as if Carlton didn’t look like he was ready to faint, vomit, deck him in square in his good looking face, or a combination of all of the above.  “I never thought I’d see you here -- Or, well … Ever, really.  You look like you’re doing great!”

Carlton bit back the ‘no thanks to you’ comment that threatened to escape.  “I am.  I thought I had seen the last of you when you called it quits.”

The smile never faltered, the guy clearly wasn’t hurting or cared, and Shawn felt Carlton squeeze his hand.  “Yeah, well … I guess the universe had other plans.  So what are you up to now?  Who’s this handsome devil?”

Shawn opened his mouth to respond, but Carlton beat him to it, “This is my boyfriend, Shawn.”

He looked to Carlton who, in turn, looked at him.  Holy hell, Shawn was in trouble.  Carlton looked at him with such adoration, if he had seen the look on anyone else, he would have “psychically divined” it was coming from a happily married couple.  The guy was damn good at undercover work.  Probably how he rose through the ranks so quickly.

“Boyfriend?  That’s wonderful, Carlton!”  Adrian said, holding out his hand for Shawn to shake.  Shawn reached out, politely giving the offered hand a quick shake, before returning his hand and wiping it off on his pants without any subtlety.  “My husband is here somewhere … Probably getting us more wine.”

“Husband?”  Carlton asked, and Shawn could hear the faint hurt tone to his voice.

“Hmm?  Oh!  Yes.  I met him not too long after you and I dated,” the smug asshole said.  He paused to look at Shawn, “I’m not sure if Carlton told you or not that we dated in college.”  Shawn gave a sharp nod, hoping that if he had any actual psychic powers, he would be able to set the guy’s shoe on fire or something.  Maybe he had to have pyrokinesis for that to happen.  “Anyways, shortly after you and I dated, I met John.  We started going out and the rest is history!  We’ve been happily married for six years now!”

Oh Shawn wanted to punch this guy in the face so hard.  He had no clue how Lassiter was able to just sit here and take all of this quietly.  He could tell when something in particular was said that struck a nerve with Carlton from his clenched jaw and the way he quietly squeezed Shawn’s hand (probably to prevent said face punching).

“I’m so happy for you,” Carlton responded, though, he was clearly not happy for him.  “And you’re … What?  His plus one tonight or … ?”  He had a sinking feeling that Adrian’s husband was the plus one, if Adrian’s studies in college meant anything.

Adrian laughed, “Oh no, he’s my plus one.  I’m actually Chief of my department.  Youngest one they’ve ever had.”  Shawn thought Carlton was going to snap right then and there.  Through their talks, he knew just how much he had wanted to be in Chief Vick’s seat.  “My husband is in law enforcement as well, though.  He’s working for the FBI as a profiler.”

That just topped it all off.  Carlton opened his mouth to speak, but this time Shawn beat him to it.  “Oh man … And here I am, just a lowly barista,” he said with a wistful sigh.  “But … I bet that I can profile a person better than your husband can.”

Carlton rose a brow as Adrian laughed.  “This seems like it’d be really fun.”  A taller male, who looked as though he’d just stepped out of a magazine ad soon moved over and handed Adrian a glass of wine.  The kiss to Adrian’s forehead signaled that this must be the asshole’s beau.  “John, hon … Meet Carlton Lassiter and his boyfriend, Shawn.  Shawn has just thrown down a challenge, if you’re interested?”

“A challenge?”

“This,” he paused a moment, “What did you call yourself? ‘Lowly barista’?”  He waited until Shawn nodded.  “This lowly barista says that he can profile a person better than you can.”  John began to laugh and Shawn felt Carlton’s hand tighten around his again.   How sweet , Shawn thought.  Adrian turned his attention back, “So … Shall we actually bet on this?”

“A hundred dollars says that Shawn can profile a person better than your husband,” Carlton said, tone deadly serious.  Since when did Carlton have that much confidence in him?

“You’re on,” Adrian hummed before picking out a red headed woman standing by the refreshment table alone.  “How about her?”

“Rock, paper, scissors to see who goes first?” Shawn asked as John rolled his eyes, instead diving into his assessment of the woman.

“She’s in her mid-twenties, bored of the party; thinks that it’s beneath her. Probably someone with a high IQ that did well in all of her classes.  She is probably a junior detective and was forced to come along, she keeps texting whoever she’s involved with to let them know just how bored she is,” John said, watching the woman before he turned to Shawn.

Shawn gave a small golf clap before he turned to look at the woman to give his own assessment.  His eyes darted over her for a moment before he began to rattle off what he knew, “She’s thirty-two, she’s not bored of the party, she’s waiting for her girlfriend who is taking way too long to do her hair; she told her she was going to be down from their room twenty minutes ago.  She was hoping she could just make an appearance here and split since she’s exhausted--they were out and up late last night, you see--but her girlfriend insists that it’s good to make friends, thus they should make an appearance.  She’s actually another head detective, like Lassie here.  She keeps texting her babysitter to make sure that her three cats are okay.  She’s never been this far away from them and she’s nervous that something is going to happen to them.  Also her name is Diana.  You were right about her thinking the party is beneath her, though.”

The three men stared at Shawn as he finished rattling off the information.  John looked confused, while Adrian looked pissed.  “You must know her.”

“Nope, never met her before in my life.”  Shawn caught sight of the woman, waving her over.  When she finally cautiously made her way over, Shawn grinned, “Your cats will be okay.  They’re in good hands, Diana”

The woman looked caught off guard, “What?  How did you know about them?  How do you know my name?  Do I know you?”

“Nah, I’m just really good at my job.”

“Are you a detective?” She asked, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

“Nope.  Barista.  Oh look!  Your girlfriend finally decided to join the party!”  Shawn said, nodding towards a blonde woman who, he did have to admit, had immaculate hair.  Waving the woman over, she joined them as well.

“Casey, do you know … Mr … Uh … I’m sorry, I didn’t get your name.”

“Shawn.  Shawn Spencer.”

“Do you know Mr. Spencer?”

The blonde woman looked him over before shaking her head, “No … Am I supposed to?”

Diana frowned, thinking that perhaps Shawn had gotten his information from her.  “No … I guess not …”

“C’mon Di … I wanna get some of that wine before they’re all out!”  Casey said as she dragged the redhead off.

Shawn turned to face the three men with a shit eating grin.  Adrian dug through his pocket, pulling out a $100 bill, shoving it into Carlton’s hand, clearly still pissed about his husband being bested.  “You’re not just some barista.”

“Actually I am.  That’s how we met,” He said, pointing between himself and Carlton.  “Hey, do you think they have a job opening for me at the FBI?  I can make a mean cup of joe and provide profiling consultations on the side.  Seems like you guys need all the help you can get.”

“It was so good to see you again, Carlton,” Adrian spit, without answering Shawn’s question, turning his attention back to his husband.  “Let’s go.”

Once they were gone, Shawn turned to say something like ‘good riddance to trash’ to Lassiter, but was cut off guard by Carlton’s lips on his own.  Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Shawn wrapped his arms around his shoulders, returning the kiss.  Oh this was much, much better than their first one.  Shawn likey.  Carlton clearly knew what he was doing and he took back anything he had ever said about his lack of skill.

Before Shawn could try and slip him some tongue, Carlton had pulled back, forehead resting against Shawn’s in an intimate matter.  “ Thank you ,” was all he said. It was all he’d needed to say for him to understand just how grateful Carlton was.

He blinked before laughing a bit.  “Well, if I knew that insulting assholes that you dated would get me a kiss like that, I would have done that ages ago.”  As intimate as it had felt, the kiss was just a thank you, Shawn reminded himself.  Something that real boyfriends would have done and considering that they were in the presence of people who thought they were dating, it was appropriate.  He could even see Juliet standing by one of the tables with food smiling brightly before giving him a thumbs up.

Carlton gave a snort before he held out the money, “This is yours.  I don’t know how you did it, and don’t say psychic because we both know that’s bullshit, but you out-profiled the hell out of that FBI asshole.”

“I’ll give you a hint,” Shawn said snickering as he pocketed the money, “I didn’t need to completely use my wonderful psychic abilities for her.  It was all pretty obvious.  I don’t know how that guy managed to get a job with the FBI.  They’re the lovely couple across the hall from us.  Her girlfriend isn’t exactly shy about calling her name in bed.”    

Carlton looked towards the women, Diana was still looking at Shawn as though she was trying to figure him out.  “You got all of that information out of the fact that her girlfriend is loud in bed?”

“Nah … I knew she was older and probably more stressed out because her hair is dyed.  She also has this cat bracelet thing that she keeps touching every time she goes to text, so … Must be cats.”

“And the fact she was waiting for her girlfriend?”

“I may have cheated on that one,” Shawn said with a grin.  “I heard her tell her girlfriend to stop messing with her hair and hurry up as we left our room.”

“That is … amazing,” Carlton said, clearly awestruck.

“It’s nothing.  My psychic powers are more amazing.  As are my powers in bed,” Shawn said, throwing a wink towards him.  That seemed to bring everything back to normal as Carlton rolled his eyes, ignoring his generous unspoken offer.

“Let’s get out of here.  I feel like I need a hot shower to scrub the filth off,” Lassiter said, sneering in the direction Adrian had gone.

“You can use my loofah~” Shawn cooed happily, leading him out of the ballroom of the hotel to return to their room.

Shawn had showered first, in the end, since Carlton had decided he wanted to figure out what sessions he wanted to attend the next day (“And to make sure that asshole isn’t on any of the panels,” Carlton had grumbled).  By the time that Carlton had showered and ventured out of the bathroom in his navy blue pajamas, Shawn was engrossed in some kid’s show about a blue cat and orange fish.  Busying himself with getting his clothes ready for the next day, he almost missed Shawn’s comment.

“I can’t believe you dated that guy.”

Carlton gave a small nod, “He wasn’t that much of an asshole back then. Maybe a little.  He did like to one-up people.”

“I’m amazed you didn’t deck the guy,” Shawn said, shaking his head, “Even I wanted to Karate Kid this guy.”

“You wanted to get your ass kicked?” Carlton asked, brow raised.

“Nah, I was thinking of making him wax on and wax off until he couldn’t feel his arms anymore.”

Carlton shook his head.  He wasn’t sure if he would ever understand the way that Shawn thought.  There were far too many pop cultural references for him.  “It took a considerable amount of willpower not to punch him … Or his ‘perfect little husband’,” Carlton grumbled.

“Hey,” Shawn said seriously, enough to get his attention.  “The guy is a shitty profiler; he probably deserved the asshole.  They probably have no friends ‘cause they make everyone feel miserable and beneath them.  On the plus side … You’ve got me as an amazing boyfriend!”

“You know that we’re fake dating, correct?  Emphasis on the fake.”

“Pssh-yah … I know, but they don’t know.  They think that your unkempt barista boyfriend just outdid a clean cut FBI agent.  I bet they’re gonna try and challenge me again.  They think that one was a fluke.  They’ll probably find someone they know pretty well.”

“Let me guess, that’s when you’ll use your ‘astounding’ psychic abilities?” Carlton asked, obviously still not buying the whole psychic thing.

“Since when have my powers let you down yet?  How many cases have I helped you secretly solve?”

“Three … And one of those is debatable.”

Shawn waved his hand in front of him in a ‘see?’ motion.  “They don’t know about my psychic abilities, so while they’ll have the advantage of knowing the person they pick, I’ll have the advantage of the spirit world.”

“Well, if it does happen,” He ignored the way that Shawn’s hand moved to his head as if to say ‘I psychically see it happening’, “You take them down a few pegs.  No mercy.”

“That was already on my list of things to do, Lassie.  No worries.  Now, c’mon and watch The Amazing World of Gumball with me before we hit the hay,” Shawn said as he pat the empty side of the bed for Lassiter to move from his chair to the bed.

As shitty as the day started out, sitting next to Shawn and watching some cartoon (that he wasn’t entirely sure was for kids anymore) after bitching about his asshole ex-boyfriend had turned the entire day around and had actually made Carlton look forward to the next day’s sessions.

The kiss wasn’t half bad either.

Chapter Text

Shawn wasn’t sure when he finally dozed off into sleep-land, but he knew he didn’t want to wake up.  Sometime during the night, Carlton had once again cuddled up behind him, holding him firmly in place as the big spoon.  His hand curled around Shawn’s side under his shirt against the mattress and their legs tangled together.  He could feel Carlton’s steady breath on the back of his neck and he shuddered slightly.  As he moved, he felt a certain hard part of the head detective pressed against him.

He could definitely get used to waking up every morning like this (though, less clothes would be optimal).

Not wanting to wake Lassiter up, he simply continued pretending to sleep.  He knew that as soon as Carlton woke up, he’d probably freak out and run off to ‘shower’ again (really, did he think that the whole thermostat thing was believable?).

He was fairly certain that Carlton was attracted to him, especially if the morning wood poking him in the rear was any indication, but he was painfully aware that Carlton was not interested in an actual relationship with him, which was fine.  He thought back to how Lassiter had said “emphasis on the fake”, as if Shawn could forget.  Maybe he could convince him into being friends with benefits?  Nah … Carlton didn’t seem like someone who would be interested in something like that.  Hell, if Shawn could convince him to get down and dirty with him in this room before they left, he’ll count that as a win.  

At least the kiss the previous day had been nice.  Maybe he could get more of those before the weekend was out.

Finally, Shawn felt Carlton begin to wake for the day.  He felt the arm around him stiffen as he realized he was holding onto Shawn for the second night in a row, and that his arm wasn’t the only stiff thing against Shawn.  Carlton carefully untangled himself from Shawn, who was still pretending to sleep, and rushed to the bathroom once more.  Shawn wondered quietly if Lassiter was going to hop in the shower once again to ‘bathe’.  He would have been more than glad to lend a helping hand, if asked.

Deciding to get up, Shawn yawned and turned on the television to signal to the other male that he was awake.  He heard the sink turn on and he couldn’t help but wonder just what Carlton was doing; whether it was something innocent or not.  Eventually, he came out almost completely dressed.  He must have grabbed the clothes he had set out the night prior as he ran to the bathroom.  Smart.

“How’d you sleep?”  Shawn asked innocently.

“Better than last night.  Turning down the thermostat helped.”

Shawn resisted the urge to laugh.  “Well, I guess now that you’re out of the bathroom, I can start my routine.”

Carlton snorted.  He learned the previous day that the Shawn’s routine was going to take much longer than he planned on being in the room.  Shrugging his dress shirt on, he gave a small nod, “I’m not waiting for you … I’ll be downstairs getting breakfast.  I’m sure O’Hara is already there.”

“Don’t try and make me jealous with all that talk of alone time with Jules~” Shawn teased.

Pausing as he worked on his tie, he looked at Shawn incredulously.  “ O’Hara ?  There is nothing going on between us.  She’s like a little sister …Unless …” Carlton’s fingers stilled on his tie.  “Do you like O’Hara?”

“What?  Of course I like her.  She’s amazing.”

“If you want to date her after …”  He waved his hand between them to signal their fake relationship before he continued to fix his tie, “After we ‘break up’, I won’t stop you.  But as her friend, if you hurt her …”

Shawn couldn’t help but break out into laughter.  “I-- … Okay, in another life, or an alternate universe, I totally would probably get with Jules. First off, I was joking about the whole jealous talk.  Second, Jules is not the kind of girl you go out with as a rebound.  Third, going from her partner to her?  That’s just not cool at all.  She’d probably say no anyways because she cares about your feelings.”

Lassiter frowned a bit.  Carlton knew just how big of a heart Juliet had and his previous worries about ruining a budding friendship returned.  Maybe he should reassure her when he and Shawn ‘broke up’ that it would be okay to hang out with him; it wouldn’t hurt his feelings.  “I suppose later we should talk about ‘after the break up’.”

With a foot in the bathroom, Shawn paused.  That sounded so … final .  “You’re not going to start avoiding me, Lassie, are you?  You know I make the best cup of coffee in a ten-mile radius.”

“Shouldn’t I pick a different coffee shop?  Would it look suspicious if I continued to visit the same shop that my ex works at?”

“Nah.  Not if we leave amiably.”

“I think you mean amicably …”

“I’ve heard it both ways.”

Carlton grunted in slight annoyance, “We’ll talk about it later.  Hurry up or you’re going to be late for breakfast and the first sessions.”

“Oh no,” He said in an unamused, monotone voice as he finished his trek into the bathroom, “What will I ever do if I miss Don’t Holster Your Feelings: Communication is the Handcuff Key? I don’t think I’ll ever be able to recover.”  Switching back to his usual light tone, he smirked a bit, “Besides, I think that panel is something maybe you need to attend.  We really should talk about our feelings, Lassie.  Don’t holster your feelings.”

Carlton looked as if he had just smelled an entire rotting dumpster of food.  What an atrocious sounding session.  It made his Effective Leadership In and Out of the Station session sound three times better.  “Whatever, Spencer.  I’ll see you downstairs,” He grumbled as he finally vacated the room.

Much to Carlton’s surprise, Shawn had made it downstairs with plenty of time to eat breakfast and do some gossiping with Juliet before their sessions.  The Chief and her husband had even managed to join them.  Giving the Chief some encouraging words for her own session she was now a panelist of, the group broke apart into their individual sessions.

Shawn was not surprised that Adrian’s husband, John, did not attend any of the couple’s sessions he had been to.  The guy wasn’t exactly an outsider getting a peek into what their law enforcement loved one was going through; he was probably attending his own sessions for information on the latest bulletproof vests, the newest tools in the war on drugs, or whatever else tickled his fancy.  Shawn was surprised, however, to be cornered by both Adrian and John outside of his first session.

He put on a bright smile, “Is this where you guys challenge me to another profile-off and I smoke your husband again?”

Adrian scowled, “You’re not just a barista.”

“We went over this yesterday,” Shawn said with an annoyed sigh.  “I am a barista.  That’s actually how Lassie and I met!  Look, it’s not my fault that the FBI has clearly lowered their standards a lot and I embarrassed you and your husband here …”

“You didn’t embarrass us.  I’ve accepted that at one time , you might have been a barista, but you’re not just one.  Are you a detective?"

“Hmm?  No, but I did take the detective’s exam when I was fifteen. It was pretty easy.”

“Pretty-- …” Adrian frowned, “Just what did you get on it? A 20%?”

“More like 100%.”

“Bullshit.”

Shawn gave an over-exaggerated sigh, “Do you want my high school transcripts too?  Let me lay it out for you, Johnny Lawrence: I am currently employed as a barista.  I’m not a detective, nor have I been a detective.  Your husband just needs to get better at being a profiler.  Now, if you want, we can get this over with and you can pick another person and I can win another hundred dollars.”

John looked to his husband, who looked positively pissed that Shawn wasn’t affected by his taunting as Carlton had been the previous night.  “Fine,” Adrian said as he looked around.  His eyes settled on one of his own detectives that he and his husband knew fairly well.  “How about him?”

John rattled off a few facts that he knew about the guy: he was in his mid-thirties, married, had done fairly well on his detective’s exam, was from the Midwest, and loved to golf.  

Shawn nodded, “Impressive … When you know the guy, that is.  Is that all you got?  Don’t wanna dig a little deeper into who exactly this guy is?”

Once more, Shawn’s eyes darted over the guy, taking in the smallest of details.  “Of course, you’re right about his age, as I said, you know the guy.  You’re right about him being married; however, you neglected to mention the affair he’s having.  They’ll be separated by the end of the year, no doubt.  Again, you’re right about him being from the Midwest, Wisconsin to be exact.  It might be a bit harsh to say, but he definitely loves golf more than his wife.  He almost missed the morning session because he got up late, no doubt fighting with his wife.  They thought this would rekindle their flame, but really, it’s just made things worse.  He’s colorblind and an asthmatic.  His name is …” He paused for dramatic effect, no need to pull out the psychic stunt when he wanted to best these assholes at their own game, “Larry.  Larry Burke.”  It didn’t take much for Shawn to come up with the male’s name when he had just listened to Larry’s wife, who now stood beside him, give an impassioned speech in the session he had just been in about how important communication was so the group didn’t end up in the same situation she was in.  He wasn’t sure if she knew about the affair yet.

Adrian looked pissed, but Shawn was beginning to wonder if that was just a normal look for the man when he realized he couldn’t one-up someone.  John had murmured something about going to get drinks, leaving Adrian and Shawn by themselves.  “Tell me,” Shawn said, “Why did you leave Carlton?”  It was the one question he knew that Lassiter deserved an answer to and it was the one question that had weighed on his mind once he had found out what Adrian had done.

Shawn was greeted with a blank stare for a moment, clearly having caught the douchebag off guard, before the smug smirk he saw the previous day returned to the man’s face.  “You mean why did I tell Carlton I couldn’t do it anymore and then disappeared with no intentions to ever see him again?  Because he was really only good for the sex and a temporary distraction while I was in college.  He couldn’t keep up with me.  I’m surprised that he even made it to head detective.  When he started to get clingy and boring, I left.  Let me guess, he said something about how I challenged him?”  The male snorted without waiting for Shawn’s answer, “Of course I challenged him.  Everything is challenging to an idiot.  Not only that, he was such a scaredy-cat.  I’m amazed he’s actually allowing himself to be seen in public with you.  He was terrified of someone finding out about his dirty little secret.  We never introduced each other as boyfriends to new people because he was so ashamed and scared.  How dare he like another guy.”

Shawn’s hand had balled up into a fist and shook slightly by his side.  He wanted nothing more than to punch this guy’s lights out.  How dare he say those things about Carlton Lassiter.  The detective was brilliant!  Taking a deep breath, he let it out to try and relax.  He couldn’t punch the guy and make a scene, even if Lassie would want him to.  He’d already given Adrian and John’s ego the good ol’ one-two using his own ‘superpowers’; punching him would just mean they had gotten under his skin.

Shawn gave a shrug, “That’s alright … You leaving him meant that eventually, he found me, the better choice.  I know just how amazing, strong, and smart Carlton is.  Obviously, you weren’t worth showing off in public because he has never been shy of showing me off.  That’s another thing you got wrong in your pathetic attempt to profile him.  He’s not terrified of someone finding out he likes guys and girls, he just doesn’t feel the need to scream it from the rooftops like some people.  Who he likes is his business and his business alone.” He smirked as he began to move past the other, intending on getting the hell out of there before he lost what control he did have.  “And clearly neither you, nor your husband, are good for anything either, especially not detective work, since a guy who works at a coffee shop just out-profiled the hell out of an FBI agent … And that’s with the FBI agent knowing exactly who the mark is.  Carlton wasn't ashamed of who he was and who he liked, he was ashamed he was settling for a guy like you .”

The next thing Shawn knew, instead of walking away like a cool guy who didn’t look at explosions, he was careening forward, face slamming into the corner of a table, sending a potted plant wobbling off the table as it fell.  Adrian was by his side in an instant, pretending to help him up as people looked on when he leaned in and whispered, “Keep talking shit and I won’t just trip you, I’ll put you in the hospital.”

Adrian publicly made sure Shawn was able to stand on his two feet then asked him if he was okay for appearances before taking off.  He scowled at the douchebag’s back, waving off the few people who had turned to make sure he was okay as well.  The asshole had seriously got pissed enough to trip him up!  He was sure that if they looked at the security footage it would all look like an accident, and publicly, Adrian had saved face by ‘checking’ on him and ‘making sure he was alright’.

Shawn tasted blood.

Reaching up, he found his nose bleeding and he groaned.  At least it didn’t feel broken.  Pinching his nose closed, he walked off towards the bathroom.  Awkwardly walking as best as he could with his head tilted slightly back, he bumped into a familiar form.

“... Shawn?”  Lassiter asked before taking in the scene.  “Shawn, what the hell happened??”

Carlton carefully maneuvered Shawn into the bathroom before he had the chance to commend him on using his first name.  He really was getting good at it.  Sitting on a built-in bench in the bathroom, he let Carlton grab a paper towel and wet it to clean off the blood.  “Talk.  What happened.”

“Oh y’know, the usual … Destroying assholes in profiling challenges.”

Shawn could feel Carlton tense up, the paper towel pausing with his movements.  “Adrian punched you?” He asked before continuing to clean when blood began to seep out again.

“Nah.  He ‘accidentally’ tripped me.  I slammed into a table … Do I have a black eye?  It feels like it.”  He would just leave out the threat that Adrian had uttered to him; Carlton didn’t need to know about that.

“It looks like you do … Or will ...” Carlton said, silently seething.  Once he had carefully cleaned up Shawn’s face and they had stopped the bleeding, Lassiter looked ready to take off to hunt Adrian down for some much deserved payback.

Shawn grabbed his wrist, “Don’t bother with him.  You let him see it got to you and he wins.  I’m almost positive that if we asked for security footage, it would look like this was all a bad accident.  Even if you ask anyone around us, he helped me up and made sure I was okay before taking off.”

“We can’t just let him get away with this!”

“He already has.  It happened.  My beautiful face is ruined,” Carlton snorted at Shawn’s comment.  “We just need to move on and--”  Shawn stopped.

“... And what?”

“That asshole owes me a hundred bucks.  I totally won that last bet.”

Carlton stared at Shawn for a moment.  “He gave you a bloody nose and a black eye and you’re concerned with a hundred dollars?”

“Why?  Wouldn’t you be?”

“Unbelievable.”  Lassiter sighed, all fight leaving him, “Let’s go back to our room.  You bled on your shirt.  We can skip the afternoon sessions …”

“What?!  But maybe I wanted to go to the session on men in uniform kinks!”

Carlton hesitated, a little unsure, “That is not a session.”

“It’s not … But what if it was?”

Rolling his eyes, Carlton helped him up, “Then you can oggle me all you want as we go up to our room.  I’m technically in uniform.”

Today was full of surprises, it seemed.  He certainly hadn’t expected those words to come out of Lassiter’s mouth.  Maybe it was blood loss.  It actually left him speechless, much like the time Carlton had detailed their fictitious sex life as they were going over all of the original details of their ‘four months’ together.  “If you’re giving permission, then I’m going to have to take full advantage of that.”

Carlton felt a little self conscious at that, especially with Shawn actually taking advantage of his offer; blatantly staring at his ass.  Huffing some, he moved into the elevator, purposely placing his back against the wall.  “We should probably put some ice on your eye.”

Shawn laughed a bit, “I really am Ralph Macchio.”

It took Carlton a moment for him to figure out why the hell Shawn had brought up Ralph Macchio.  He rolled his eyes, “Was it your mission to try and act out The Karate Kid this weekend?”

“No, but when the opportunity presents itself …” He snickered, “I did call Adrian Johnny Lawrence.”

“And apparently you got a table to the eye and nose for that comment.”

“Worth it.  Besides, that’s not what I got the table for.”

“What exactly did you get it for?” Carlton asked, “He didn’t get that upset when you bested his husband yesterday.”

Shawn squirmed some, “I told him it was a good thing he left you, because that meant I got to meet you, and that you were an amazing and brilliant detective … And that he and his husband were shitty detectives because a coffee shop employee was a better detective than them.”

Carlton looked at Shawn a bit surprised.  He hadn’t expected that from him.  Well this … This was nice.  Except for the fact that Shawn had gotten hurt defending his honor.  Moving closer to him, he leaned down, placing a gentle kiss just under Shawn’s eye, earning a quiet gasp from him.  “I suppose that’s the second time I’m thanking you for dealing with that asshole.  Don’t make it a habit.”

Shawn immediately laughed, earning a confused look from Carlton.  “Lassie.  You say don’t make it a habit, all wannabe gruff-like, but then I get a kiss out of it, so … I’m getting mixed signals.  ‘Cause I’d really like another kiss, which is what seems to be my reward when I insult that douche--”

Shawn’s sentence was cut off by Carlton leaning down to kiss him again, this time on the lips.  Oh this was nice.  He was definitely right about Carlton being attracted to him because right now, there was only the empty elevator as their audience; there was no need to pretend like they had the previous night.  Wrapping his arms around Lassiter’s shoulders again, he happily kissed him.  This time, however, before Carlton could pull away, Shawn was trying to deepen the kiss, hand wrapped around the detective’s tie.  

Carlton pinned him against the elevator wall, allowing Shawn’s tongue to finally probe his mouth.  He knew he was in trouble.  Really, they shouldn’t be going at it like this.  Carlton liked to think that he had more control than this, but it had been far too long since he’d been with someone and Shawn was just so damn willing.  It couldn’t hurt to live a little, right?  Just for the weekend?

Someone clearing their throat broke the spell that had kept the two lip locked.  Immediately, they broke apart, Shawn licking his lips and Carlton a bright red, both trying to catch their breath.  Glancing at the floor number, Carlton realized they had missed their floor and were on their way back down.  Pressing the button for the next floor down, he grabbed Shawn’s hand and practically dove out of the elevator as soon as it opened so they could catch another.  Once the door closed with the other occupant going to the lobby, he gave a weak, awkward laugh and pressed the up button by the elevators.  

“That was ...” Carlton trailed off, looking conflicted on how he felt about what had just happened.

“Was? Was what?  Amazing?  Aw c’mon … Your silence makes it sound like it was bad … And I know that I’m not a bad kisser.  I also take back what I said about your kissing skills.  They’re top notch.”

Carlton tried not to preen too much at all of the compliments he was getting.  It was weird, but certainly not unwelcome; especially when, at the end of his last real relationship, everything he had done was scrutinized and he felt as if nothing he did was good enough, to the point where Victoria had called it quits.  “We were just making out like teenagers in an elevator.”  Carlton paused, looking around to make sure no one was around to hear him, “We’re not even putting on a show for someone who thinks we’re dating!”

Shawn grinned as he led Carlton into the elevator that had arrived, “So? What about this: what happens at the law enforcement retreat, stays at the law enforcement retreat?  This weekend we’re boyfriends and when we get back to Santa Barbara, it’s business as usual.  I won’t tell anyone how we ferociously made out in an elevator or anything else … Even though they already think we’ve been bumping uglies for the past four months.”

He could visibly see Lassiter relax.  After a bit, he nodded.  Stepping out of the elevator once they reached their floor, Carlton led him into their room.  Digging around, he eventually found a small ziploc bag and filled it with hotel ice, delivering it to Shawn.  “Put this on your eye ...”

Taking it, Shawn grinned and placed it on his eye, “Thanks, Lassiebear.”

Carlton rolled his eyes at the nickname and sat on the bed.  This time it was his turn to pick what they watched.  Flipping the channels, he found an episode of COPS and settled in.  After a moment, he frowned, “I don’t think that we should tell the Chief, or O’Hara, that my ex is here.”

Twisting awkwardly so that he could see Carlton and keep the ice pack on his injured eye, he shrugged, “Actually, I was thinking of making a giant banner and parading it around.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

There was the Lassiter he knew.  “Well I wasn’t actually going to do it before, but now I kind of want to.”  Shawn snickered at the death glare he was on the receiving end of.  “I’m joking . I wasn’t planning on bringing him up.  I just accidentally tripped into a table.”

“Good,” Carlton said with a small frown, his attention returning to the television.  Spending the rest of the afternoon watching old reruns of COPS, Lassiter eventually dozed off.

Waking to the gentle shaking of Shawn, he frowned some.  “What?”

“Hey … It’s dinner time. Wanna go get some grub with the rest of our party?”

It probably would have been rude to say no and go back to sleep; plus, he had to get up anyways to change into pajamas if he wanted to sleep more.  “Give me a moment,” He murmured as he got up and stretched, trying to fully wake up.  Turning his attention back to Shawn, he frowned.  “Your eye.”

Shawn reached up to gently touch the tender skin before shrugging, “Yeah, I’ve been icing it on and off.  It’ll go away in a few days.  I’ve gotten much, much worse before, don’t worry.  You ready to go?  I’m starving since I didn’t get to eat lunch.”

Carlton gave a nod and led him down to the dining room.  Finding their table rather quickly, he sat down as Karen gasped, “Mr. Spencer, what happened to your eye??”

He grinned, “Shawn is fine, no need for the ‘Mister’ … That’s my dad. The eye is nothing, just a battle with a replica Chippendale after the morning sessions.  Unfortunately, I lost.”

“Yes … I can see that.”

“You keep going on about being a psychic, shouldn’t you have seen this coming?” Carlton asked, knowing full well he had to be bullshitting about the psychic mess.

“Lassie … You wound me.  Not more than the table wounded me, but you wound me nonetheless.  My psychic powers are finicky … Regrettably, I can’t see my future.  Maybe that’s a good thing, though.  For instance, what if I had seen the two of us getting together and then I did something to accidentally screw that up?  That’d be awful!”

“That does make sense, Carlton,” Juliet said with a serious nod.  

Lassiter pinched the bridge of his nose.  How the hell could they seriously believe this guy was a psychic?  He’d just have to change the subject, “Chief, how was your session?  Did you knock ‘em dead?”

Karen smiled a bit before launching into her story about her session.  Apparently, only roughly fifteen people had shown up, the main panelist had taken up almost the entire session (“I don’t even really know why they needed any other panelists”), and every question the main panelist was asked, he responded by snapping at the attendee.  “Needless to say, it was terrible,” She said with a laugh.

“It seems like this entire retreat was more entertainment than informative,” Juliet said with a small laugh.

“I spent the whole morning session learning about this woman’s husband and an affair he was having with a uniform,” Shawn said with a shrug.  “This was way better than I expected and I’m including getting a black eye.”

“Should we do this again next year?” Karen asked, curious to know what her detectives thought.

“Only if we can up the antelope with a bar fight,” Shawn jumped in.

Juliet looked confused, “Do you mean … Up the ante?”

“Don’t say it,” Carlton warned, shooting a look at Shawn, who was already grinning from ear to ear.

“I’ve heard it both ways,” Came Shawn’s reply.

Sighing in frustration, Carlton turned his attention back to his boss, “With all due respect, this has been a waste of time. We’ve barely learned anything new and our time could have been better spent back home.  Maybe if there was another conference with less drama, we might have been able to learn some more.”  He didn’t mention that he knew part of the drama was thanks to his own past relationship making an appearance.

The Chief smiled, “Thank you for your honesty, Carlton.  I have to agree with you.  This retreat is only in its second year … Maybe if it grows a bit, it might be better, but for now, I think we’ll stick to more established conferences.”

The rest of their dinner progressed much like it had the previous night, gossiping about the attendees and conversing about how the station was holding up without them there.  Juliet was riding back to Santa Barbara with Carlton and Shawn since Karen and Richard were leaving tomorrow instead of the day after.  The trip with Juliet in tow was not something Carlton was looking forward to, but maybe his partner and Shawn would keep each other busy and he wouldn’t be subjected to another fourteen hour concert in his car.

Arriving back in their room after dinner, Shawn plopped down on the bed with a groan.  Carlton gathered his clothes together for the next day before standing awkwardly.  “About what happens when this weekend is over …”

Here it was: the dreaded ‘what happens after’ talk.

“I think, we’ll give it a few weeks before we call things off.  We’ll say that we’re still on good terms but we just knew it wasn’t going to work out further …” Carlton said, messing with the buttons on his shirt for the next day as if he was inspecting them.  “I think they’ll accept that as truth …”

“I don’t know, I think we might have done too good of a job convincing them that we’re dating,” Shawn teased.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, we were joking about marriage yesterday.”

“No, you were joking about marriage yesterday.”

“Hey, you’re the one who went along with it and vetoed the strippers!” Carlton rolled his eyes.  “Anyways, yeah … That sounds fine to me.  You sure you don’t want to keep the ruse going for longer?”

Carlton considered it for a moment before answering, “Absolutely not.  This whole thing got way out of control the first time.  I’m lucky as hell we pulled it off for this long.  I’m not going to risk keeping it going.  The next thing that will happen is my mother will want to meet you.  I think I can handle O’Hara, the Chief, and my mother trying to set me up on blind dates.  Hopefully, however, our breakup will keep them off my back for a while.”

“For the record, I’m sure your mother would love me.” Shawn gave a nod, “Well … that sounds like we have a plan."

“My mother would never approve of her son dating a fake psychic.”

Shawn groaned, “What do I have to do to prove how much of a real psychic I am?”

“You can’t.  Psychics aren’t real.  I’ll figure out how you do it eventually,” Carlton said with a small scowl.  Could he make that part of their break up deal?  He finds out how Shawn solves cases so easily?

“Hey, you think that the Chief would hire me as a consultant?”

“What?”  Carlton asked, gathering his pajamas to shower.

“If you had a hard case, and needed a psychic’s opinion, do you think she’d hire me as a consultant?”

“Only if we got desperate enough, I suppose …” Karen seemed like she would be one to give Shawn a chance and then teach him a very serious lesson if he turned out to be a fraud.

“Maybe I’ll float the idea past her.  I still need to make business cards …”

“Business cards?  You don’t even have a business.”

Shawn sat up with a grin, “I’ve already helped you on a few cases …”

“One of those is still debatable.”

“So I’m thinking … Get this: psychic detective .”

Lassiter laughed, “You’ve got to be kidding me. You help out on two--”

“Three.”

“ Three cases and suddenly you're a psychic detective?”

“Don’t laugh! It’s a fantastic idea!” Shawn said, clearly enthused about his idea.  “I even have a name already picked out!”

“Let me guess, ‘Being a Psychic is Bullshit Because Psychics Aren’t Real’?”

“No, Lassifras.  You and I both know that is way too long of a name.  You gotta keep it simple for people to easily remember!”

“Then what?”

“ Psych .”

Chapter Text

It was a surprising, and pleasant, twist waking up the next morning.  Carlton was laying on his back, one arm slung over his eyes, the other arm wrapped protectively around Shawn.  Shawn woke to find himself half on the detective, arm slung over his middle, and legs intertwined again as he buried his forehead against Carlton’s neck, mouth close to his collarbone.

Really, Shawn didn’t want to move from the comfortable position, but he knew he wasn’t going to be able to fall back asleep.  Silently, he slid out from Carlton’s grasp and out of the bed, stretching some.  Giving a quiet yawn, he grabbed his clothes and headed for the shower.

He wasn’t sure when, over the course of the last week, the whole psychic thing went from just an answer to get out of trouble to ‘hey, maybe I can make this into an actual job’.  Psychic detective sure as hell sounded like a lot of fun; it probably ranked up there with the month he spent as a mascot (except at least he wouldn’t smell like a gym locker 24/7 … hopefully).  He had enjoyed helping Carlton with the cases he had been stumped on.  Not only that, but it was finally something that put his skills to use and challenged him.  No two cases were exactly alike and being a consultant meant he had a bit more freedom than if he had been chained to the desk or street as an officer like his father had wanted him to be.  

Okay, maybe he did know when he thought this could be an actual job idea: when he realized he could take down assholes like Adrian every day (or at least, every time he was offered a case).

Shawn grinned as he washed his hair.  This would be awesome.  He wasn’t sure why he hadn’t thought of it before.  Now that he had the idea, it was something he wanted to try out. He wouldn’t know if it was a disaster of an idea until he tried it, right?

By the time he finished with his shower and had opened the door to let some of the steam out before he started his hair routine, Carlton was already up and almost completely dressed.  “Lassie!  Ready for the last day of fantastic sessions?”

“If by ‘fantastic’ you mean ‘pointless’, then yes,” he responded, starting on his tie.

“That’s a great tie.”

Carlton paused, looking down to the royal blue tie.  “This one?”

“Yeah.  It’s a great color for you,” Shawn said, winking at Carlton before returning to fixing up his hair.

Lassiter turned a slight red but finished getting ready for their day.  Carlton was almost tempted to just skip the day’s sessions.  The morning session had sounded boring and the afternoon session was half the time as previous sessions, allowing the conference attendees to head home or mingle if they were staying.  “I’ll be down at breakfast,” he grunted.

“Meet you down there!”

Carlton wasn’t exactly sure what was going on between the two of them.  They had certainly become more familiar with each other this past weekend; far more familiar than he had expected them to become.  He’d gone from being horrified at the notion of the two of them kissing to actually enjoying it every time it had happened.  It must have been the constant closeness of another person in such an intimate way that had him changing his mind.

Maybe he just needed to get laid.

That seemed like such a stupid comment, but it had been a while, and Shawn’s nonstop teasing and comments had sat simmering in the back of his mind.  He distinctly remembered the way Shawn’s face had looked when he outlined their fictitious sex life and again when Carlton had given him the all clear to oggle him.  He wasn’t reading the signs wrong: Shawn wanted him.

The more he thought about it, the more he was able to convince himself this was a good thing.  Shawn had said the night before that what happened at the retreat stayed at the retreat … So why not have a little fun?  He deserved it.  Not only that, but if he decided to do some dirty dancing with Shawn (great, now he was thinking in euphemisms), at least he knew that he was doing it with someone who actually gave somewhat of a damn about him.

Shawn was now sporting a black eye because of him.  He’d defended Carlton’s honor twice now against his asshole of an ex-boyfriend.  None of that had been part of their original agreement.  In addition, the previous day, Shawn had been alone.  He could have easily thrown Carlton under the bus, claimed he was getting paid, or something equally as shitty, but he hadn’t.  He had gone toe-to-toe with Adrian, came out with a black eye for it, and hadn’t sought out any sort of reparations from Carlton for his injury.  

He seemed to legitimately care for Carlton and that made his heart flutter.  The male scowled a bit.  He was not going to fall for this guy.  First off, Shawn was not one for relationships from what he understood.  Hell, the guy had never had a relationship that lasted longer than four months and Carlton wasn’t looking for a fling.  If they were going to do this, actually do this and not just a one night stand, then he was going for gold (ring bands, that was).  

Secondly, he wasn’t sure he could even stand to be in a relationship with Shawn.  True, he was enjoying himself far more than he thought this weekend and he had managed to not strangle him yet, but this was only a weekend. This wasn’t months of living with Shawn.  They both knew that this ‘relationship’ had an expiration date, so there wasn’t pressure to put up with each other’s bickering or any other trials that actual couples had to endure.  His earlier thoughts of how Shawn must act in a relationship (never picking up after himself, taking all the hot water for himself, etc.) made a reappearance in his thoughts.  Plus, the never ending pop culture references that spewed from his mouth.  He had barely handled the fourteen hour concert series, he was pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to handle years of it.

Third, and the one that Carlton really didn’t want to think about, what if Spencer’s attitude up until now had just been to get him in bed?  It was working, Carlton would give him that much, but how did he know that Shawn really cared for him outside of the lust he knew he had for him?  For all he knew, the way Shawn handled himself with Adrian was something he did in order to better his chances of getting into bed with Carlton.  He didn’t want to think that way, he wanted it to be more like he originally suspected, but there was this nagging voice that told him no one fought for him like that.  Not even Victoria had and she had been the love of his life.  He supposed the only way that he would get a true answer to that question was to see what happened after this weekend.  

Shawn had seemed to go along with his break up plan pretty easily, unlike someone who wanted to try out a relationship, which had solidified in his mind why he was definitely not falling for the guy. He just liked the surprisingly-less-annoying-than-expected company and the prospect of getting laid. Even when they broke up, it wasn’t like he wouldn’t see him again.  Shawn was right -- He did make a good cup of coffee.  Until they broke it off, Carlton was going to just sit back and enjoy the ride (or being ridden, either one worked for him, really).

“Carlton!”

The familiar voice brought him out of his thoughts.  Looking up, he saw Juliet waving her hand at him.  He gave her a small wave in acknowledgement before gathering up his breakfast from the complimentary bar.  Once he was done, he sat in one of the vacant seats at her table.

“How did you sleep?” She asked, smiling as she sipped at her coffee.

“Actually decent.  Must be the beds they have … I think it’s about time for me to get a new one.”

“Did you and Shawn wear out your old one?” She teased, giving him a wink.

“O’Hara!”

“C’mon, Carlton … He seems like a really great guy.  I’m really happy for you!  I don’t know why you don’t talk about him more …”

Carlton huffed as he munched on the bagel he had grabbed. It was like she had been reading his thoughts before he’d sat down to eat with her.  “Because I don’t feel the need to gossip about my relationships. Also, that is wildly inappropriate.”

“Not even a little … ?” She asked, raising her finger and thumb to signal ‘a little’.  “You can talk to me, I’m your partner!”

“And apparently my ‘best woman’ if Shawn and I got married.”

Juliet gasped, “Are you thinking marriage?!  I know we were joking the other day but …”  She paused to look around and make sure that Shawn was nowhere in earshot as she leaned in.  “Are you really thinking about it?  I know that you’re very serious about your relationships … Have the two of you moved in together yet?”

“What?!  Absolutely not.  Get that out of your head now; and I mean right now ,” He said with a serious frown.  “That was all joking the other day.  That was it.  No, we’re not moved in together.”

“Maybe that’s why you’ve slept so well … You’ve been living with another person for the past few days.”  That was entirely possible.  In fact, he was certain that was the exact reason he felt so refreshed.  He was dreading going back to his own quiet home already.  Juliet continued, “Anyways … Since you won’t ‘gossip’ anymore … How is Shawn doing?  His eye, I mean.  It looked pretty bad yesterday.”

Carlton hadn’t even thought to pay that much attention to it today.  “I think his ego is more bruised than his eye.  He fought a table and lost .”

Juliet laughed, shaking her head.  “He’s definitely something else.  I really am glad you have him, Carlton.”  He gave her a puzzled look.  “There’s just … Something about you since you introduced us to him.  It’s like you’re … Ah, don’t take this the wrong way … But you’re happier and a bit more relaxed. Like a weight lifted off your shoulders. Especially around him.”

Juliet paused in her commentary of his fake relationship before continuing on, “I was a little worried when I first met him at the station because you seemed really … Not okay with him?  Almost like he was just a random guy sent there to play a prank on you?  But I guess that was probably because you were worried how we would react since he’s a guy, right? At least, that’s what Shawn said, and I totally understand.  And now … I see you give him these little smitten looks when he’s not looking …” She sighed dreamily.  “Oh!  And then your kiss at the Meet & Greet!  That was so adorable!  You looked so happy!”

Lassiter was bright red.  She clearly had been reading into whatever looks she thought he was giving Shawn.  Wouldn’t he know if he was giving Shawn looks or not?!  Carlton felt a slight pang of guilt.  She had nailed it on the head that their relationship had been fake from the beginning and they had convinced her otherwise, as per their plan.  Juliet looked as though she was hoping for a relationship like the one Carlton and Shawn had; the relationship that Carlton knew was a complete and utter lie.  Even though convincing both her and the Chief of their relationship had been the whole point, he hadn’t expected it to get this far. They were invested in his fake relationship now.  He was tempted to confess right then and there, but was interrupted by Shawn flopping in the seat next to him with his plate of waffles.

“Jules!  You’ve got this look on your face -- it’s the one I get whenever Lassie does something heroic … Did I miss him doing something heroic?” He asked, giving a sigh and gazing at Carlton in a loving and admiring way like a damsel in distress would look at her hero.

“Alright, enough you two.  Stop it.”

Shawn grinned, already digging into his waffles happily.  “So what all did I miss?  Besides Lassie being the fabulously charming man that he is.”

Juliet laughed, shaking her head some, “We were just talking about your relationship … I was saying that it’s a shame Carlton doesn’t talk about the two of you more!  He never tells us anything!”

“Well, Lassie is a pretty private person,” He said with a hum, waving a piece of waffle around on his fork absentmindedly.  “I know part of his reasoning was that he was unsure how some people would take … Y’know … Two guys being in a relationship at the station.”  Carlton wasn’t really worried about that.  He couldn’t give two shits what the other guys thought of him, but it was the cover that Shawn had used when he’d randomly shown up at the station and he was glad that Juliet had seemed to accept it as truth since she had just mentioned it again.  “Another part of it is that this is the first real relationship since his divorce … He wanted to make sure we were more of a thing before introducing me to his family -- work family, that is.  I don’t think he’s too keen on me meeting his mother for some reason.  And, again, he’s just a private guy in general … He doesn’t like to mix his peanut butter and jelly, if you get my drift.  Which means, if you want all of the juicy gossip, you gotta ask me~.”

How was it that Shawn saw right through him so easily?  They hadn’t known each other that well for that long and yet, here the guy was, explaining his personality as if he’d been with Carlton for years.  Was this one of those things where people just ‘clicked’?  He definitely hadn’t felt anything ‘click’; more like ‘grown a slight tolerance to’ or ‘didn’t feel the need to strangle as much as he originally wanted to’.  Then again, maybe it was because Shawn was ‘psychic’ … Whatever that actually meant.

Juliet’s face lit up, “Oh yeah?”

“As long as it’s something I know that Lassie won’t mind me talking about.  No bedroom stories,” He said, winking.

Carlton silently prayed for lightning to strike him where he sat to save him from this conversation.

After her initial disappointed look, Juliet silently thought of something to ask Shawn.  “What do you think about Carlton?”

“What do I think about Lassie?”  He asked, glancing at the aforementioned male, who turned to look at him for a moment, curious as to what Shawn would say.  He turned back to look at Juliet, “Carlton Lassiter is one of the bravest, hell, is the bravest man that I know.  His sense of justice is unparalleled.  Sure, he can be awkward in some social settings, but in private, he’s relaxed and it’s like he’s a whole different man.  He’s strict, but he’s got a soft spot for people he loves.  He’s fiercely protective and I have no doubt that he’d take a whole barrage of bullets without second thought just to protect me, you, or anyone else he cares for.  When he loves, he loves with his entire being; he wants to give everything he can to the person he loves and there’s nothing like it.  Sure, he’s got this weird vendetta against squirrels, an entire arsenal of weapons hidden around his house, and a boner for Civil War reenactments, but that’s what makes him him .  To put it simply, he is one of the greatest men I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing and I wouldn’t have him any other way.  I have no clue why he chose me, but I’m grateful for it every day.”

Shawn glanced back sheepishly at Carlton and the head detective let out a shaky breath.  It was as if he had just been dissected.  The same things that Victoria had said she couldn’t handle anymore (his awkwardness, his weapons, the way he was ‘smothering’ her, etc) were qualities that Shawn had said he found endearing .  If he had thought that Shawn had read him before, it was nothing like what he’d just said.  Those were the things people said about their husbands and wives, not about detectives that had desperately went along with a fake boyfriends scheme to get his coworkers off his back.  God, Carlton just wanted to take Shawn back up to their room and thank him for those words, even if he knew that it was all just part of the fake boyfriends show they were putting on for Juliet.  They were words that he didn’t realize he needed, and wanted so badly, to hear.

Leaning over, Carlton buried his hand in the hair on the back of Shawn’s head to pull him in for a tender kiss, similar to the one they had shared at the Meet & Greet.  It was short and sweet, but he tried to pour his gratitude to Shawn into it.  When he pulled away, slightly red, he looked over to see Juliet sniffling, dabbing at her eyes.

“That was so beautiful, Shawn …”

Shawn waved his hand dismissively, shoving another piece of waffle into his mouth as if he hadn’t just given a speech worthy of wedding vows, “It was nothing.”

That was how Carlton knew that what Shawn had said really was just for the song and dance they were putting on.  People didn’t just dismiss a speech like that and say it was nothing in that tone without actually meaning that it was nothing.  He had not been joking in the slightest when he’d told Carlton that he was good at improv.  At least he knew that they were both damn good at being undercover.  Shawn might not really have meant all that he said but Carlton was still appreciative of him saying it.

It had also elevated his desire to get Shawn naked between the covers of their king sized hotel bed.

“Oh!” Shawn said, shoving the remaining waffle in his mouth as he saw what time it was on Lassiter’s watch.  “I don’t wanna be late for the first session.  Rumor has it that we’re doing trust falls!”

Shawn gave a quick wave as he jogged out of the room, leaving Juliet and Carlton by themselves.  Juliet gave her partner a smile, “He’s a keeper, for sure.”

Carlton gave a scoff in response, “He has his moments.”

Shaking her head, she stood, “We should head to our sessions too.  Hopefully they’re painless.”

“I think you’re asking for a miracle.”

With the two of them laughing, they headed off into their different sessions.  Carlton simply couldn’t focus; replaying through the past week and his earlier thoughts in his mind. He was going to let the chips fall where they may. That was it. He was going to take everyone’s advice and ‘live a little’ … After all, it was as Shawn had promised, what happened at the retreat, stayed at the retreat.

By lunchtime, Carlton was annoyed. The last session had been led by a man who had to be at least 130 years old and spoke with such a monotone voice that it had been easy to just get lost in his thoughts but also made him antsy to leave, which simply meant that the panel seemed like it lasted six times as long.

Lassiter seemed to be the first one at the small area to eat, so he grabbed some food from the buffet and sat down, taking out his annoyance by stabbing a piece of meat. Shawn was the first of their small group to join him at the table, raising a brow as he saw just how tense Carlton was. It was how Carlton usually was when he was in a rut at work and stopped by the coffee shop to try and relax.

“Hey, what’s wrong Lass? Run into the asshole again?”

Carlton gave a snort, “He’d better hope that I don’t run into him again. He’s still owed payback for what he did to your eye. At the very least he could be charged with assault.”

“While I do find the whole Prince Charming coming to my rescue thing hot, it’s totally not necessary. Like I said, it’s done and over with … There’s nothing more we can do.”  Technically, he supposed they could do something about the threat that Adrian had given him, but that would just turn into a he-said/she-said battle that he didn’t think they’d win.  “So what’s up? Why the sour face? Did they make you talk about feelings in your last session?”

No, he’d done all his feelings talk mentally, and on his own. “The main presenter was practically a mummy and spoke with such a God-forsaken tone that the entire session felt like it lasted forever. He was like a professor I had in college who was well past his retirement and no one was entirely sure if he was actually alive or some sort of mummified animatronic they kept on because they didn’t want to pay someone who was actually alive. One of the other panelists even fell asleep! Can you believe that?! The man is going on about ballistics testing and there’s panelist number two snoring next to him!”

Shawn laughed and rubbed Lassiter’s back in a ‘there, there’ fashion. “Feel better getting that out of your system?”

Surprisingly, he did. It almost reminded him of the very early days of his marriage, when he would come home exhausted and pissed off, drop down on the couch, lay his head in Victoria’s lap and just unload about everything that had gotten under his skin that day. She would listen silently, running her hand through his hair, and he would feel like a new man afterwards, ready to take on the next day.

“Yes … Thank you …”

“Ah, it’s nothing. But you could always put in a good word for my psychic detective agency with the Chief,” Shawn said, smirking.

“Like hell I will. You’re not a psychic.”

“And there’s the Lassie we all know and love.”

Just like that, Shawn was babbling on about his session. If Carlton really thought about it, he seemed to have a knack for that. Whenever he was stumped on a problem and had decided to go to the coffee shop to get through his ‘detective’s block’ (as Shawn had called it), Shawn always seemed to swoop in, solve the problem, then continue on about something completely irrelevant that would inevitably take his mind off of the frustration he had walked into the coffee shop with. He’d even managed to help calm his nerves before they had arrived and had grounded him as they confronted Adrian the first time.

When Carlton sat down to think about it, Shawn was much more than the front he put on. The suave, goofy, and never ending pop culture references was just the exterior. Shawn, deep down, was a problem solver. Carlton knew it couldn’t be that he was psychic; that seemed like something he would have spewed out long ago (plus, psychics weren’t real). There was something … more … about Shawn and he wanted to know. Carlton loved a good case and this one seemed like it would be the most challenging one yet. He wanted to find out how it was that someone his complete opposite could take one look at a case file and solve the case without going through the rigorous training that he had.

How was it that Shawn was able to swoop in and solve all of Carlton’s problems, leaving the detective wanting more from him?

This was not how he had expected this weekend to go. They were just going to pretend to be boyfriends and Carlton was going to try to not strangle Shawn. Maybe they still would have been at that point if he hadn’t swept Lassiter off his feet by defending him against a foe he never thought he’d encounter. Hell, wasn’t he just singing Adrian’s praises a few days ago?

“And then , they just dropped the guy!” Shawn said, snickering as Carlton snapped out of his thoughts.

“What?”

“Laasssiiee! Were you not paying attention to anything I said?”

“No. I tune you out pretty often,” He said bluntly.

“Ouch. That hurts. It also means I should just start from the beginning and tell you the whole story again.”

“Not necessary.”

Of course, that didn’t stop Shawn, who launched into the story once more. How was it that Carlton was no longer struggling to find endearing qualities like he had at the beginning of this journey, despite the fact that Shawn could so easily get under his skin and annoy the hell out of him?  As the he saw Juliet approach, he breathed a sigh of relief, “Oh thank sweet Lady Justice.”

Shawn paused in his story to figure out the reason for the praising before seeing Juliet. With a grin on his face, he waved to her, “Jules! How was your session?”

“Positively boring. We watched an insanely corny video promoting community engagement. It was as if someone combined all of the most terrible infomercials they could find into a PSA video. At least the next session is short, then we can relax !”

“Now you’re speakin’ my language! I am so excited to have a personal pool party!”

Juliet looked a bit confused, “A personal pool party?”

“Yeah, a Triple-P! Instead of a pool, it’s a bathtub and instead of being by yourself, you invite someone else.”

“I think … You’re just talking about taking a bath with another person.”

“But it doesn’t sound as exciting when you say it that way!”

“I guess that you do have a point.”

“So, what do you say, Lassie? Personal pool party?”

Carlton shrugged, “We’ll see how we feel after these next sessions.”

There it was again. That look on Shawn’s face. It was as if he wasn’t expecting Carlton to call his bluff or play along with his flirting. It was this strange, turned on, how-far-can-I-push-it kind of look. Lassiter could only assume that Shawn didn’t think of him as someone who would openly flirt, but that wasn’t true. If he found someone he was genuinely interested in, he had no problems with it. Carlton gave Shawn a wink and watched as the male’s jaw dropped slightly.

Oh, the end of the day couldn’t get there sooner.

The three of them were joined by Karen and Richard, who had decided to skip the last sessions in order to get on the road sooner. As soon as lunch was over, the group bid each other farewell and parted ways. By the time the last session was over, Carlton was beyond done with the retreat. He made his way back up to his room to finally relax. Hanging up his suit jacket, he took off his tie and shoes, and sat down in one of the plush chairs before he grabbed the remote and changed the channel to Investigation Discovery to drown out the silence in the room.

Deciding to stay in for the rest of the night, he texted Shawn and Juliet to let them know he was ordering in for dinner. Juliet soon texted back to let him know that she and Shawn had decided to head out of the hotel to get dinner at a restaurant a couple blocks down. Carlton was a little worried, but he knew that Shawn could keep the secret going. He packed his bag to leave the next day while waiting for his food to arrive. He was grateful that the hotel offered alcohol on their room service and had ordered a couple beers to go with his food, opening one to go along with his steak once it finally did arrive.

They had managed to pull it off. True, they weren’t completely in the clear until they ‘broke up’, but they’d managed to get further than he had expected. Shawn arrived to the hotel room a few hours later, once it was finally dark out, to a relaxed Carlton, feet propped up on an ottoman and remnants of his last beer in one hand as he watched a story about a wife murdering her husband.

“Hey Lassie~ You’re lookin’ good. Well, better than usual, I mean. All loosey-goosey. Even showing off some of that sternbush,” Shawn hummed, nodding towards the top of the detective’s shirt that had the top couple buttons undone.

Lassiter looked down at himself before shrugging, “I was just relaxing.”

“‘Relaxed’ is a good look for you. Much better than ‘grumpy detective at wit’s end’.” That comment earned a familiar scowl from Carlton.

“How was dinner with O’Hara?”

Shawn grinned as he began to shove things into his bag; his version of ‘packing’. “It was great. She knows her 80’s. We’re supposed to get smoothies next Tuesday so we can gossip about you.” Grabbing a few of the complimentary items from the hotel, he shoved those into his bag as well. “She also kept telling me how happy she was that you found someone as amazing as myself.”

“She did not call you ‘amazing’.”

“I promise you that she did.”

Carlton rolled his eyes, taking a sip of his beer. He saw the way that Shawn’s eyes followed his movement before walking over, taking Carlton’s beer from his hand. “Hey!” Shawn gave a smirk before drinking the remaining gulp of alcohol in the bottle, licking his lips, and tossing the bottle in the nearby trashcan. His eyes followed the way that Shawn’s tongue slid over his lips to capture any remaining alcohol and he felt the tension in the room rise.

From the way that Shawn smirked, he knew that he’d been caught staring. “So … About that Triple P.”

“I’m not getting in the bath with you, Shawn.”

Shawn swung one leg over Carlton’s propped up ones, leaning down over him, and spoke in a low voice, “How about the bed?”

Carlton’s eyes were locked on Shawn’s lips. He swallowed thickly. This was what he’d been waiting for all day. What happened at the retreat, stayed at the retreat, right? Wrapping his fist in Shawn’s shirt, he pulled him the rest of the way down to kiss him as he had in the elevator. Shawn took a moment before he completely crawled into Carlton’s lap, straddling his legs, his hands immediately going to the buttons on the detective’s shirt.

Pausing, Shawn pulled away, breathless. “So we’re doing this?”

“Yes,” He grumbled, annoyed about being interrupted as he continued to kiss Shawn.

Once again, he pulled away, cautiously eying Lassiter, “You’re sure about this?”

“Spencer, I swear to God if you interrupt to ask me if I’m sure one more time, you will be sleeping in the hallway and finding your own ride back to Santa Barbara. Yes, I’m sure .”

Shawn laughed, “Noted.” Immediately, he returned to furiously making out with Lassiter. Making quick work of Carlton’s shirt, he tossed it to the side, shimmying out of his own shirt so it could join the other one. Carlton nipped at Shawn’s lips then moved lower, pressing a few kisses to his lips. Quickly moving to his neck, Lassiter bit at the tender flesh before sucking a dark mark. In the moment, he didn’t care who would see the mark later.

“Ah … Shit …” Shawn gasped at the motion. “B-Bed …”

Nodding against Shawn’s neck, he pulled away, licking the mark before letting the male scramble off his lap. Carlton bit back a laugh as he watched him kick off his shoes, nearly tripping over himself as he got his pants off as quickly as possible. With one hand undoing his own belt, Lassiter’s other hand flipped off the light.

For tonight, Shawn Spencer was all his.

Chapter Text

Carlton gave a small snort as he watched Shawn try to stuff their suitcases in his car while he and Juliet waited in line to check out of their hotel rooms. For someone who bragged about their score on Tetris, one would think Shawn would be better at figuring out how to fit all the bags in the trunk and back seats of the Crown Vic.

“Did you sleep well last night, Carlton?”

“Hmm? Oh. Yes. I did.”

Juliet smiled at him and for a split moment he wondered if she somehow knew . “You look … Like a whole new man. Really refreshed. Maybe you can ask them what kind of mattresses they have.”

“I already looked--tag said Serta.”

Carlton Lassiter felt like a new man. He knew it had absolutely nothing to do with the mattress and everything to do with the fact that the previous night (and once that morning) he’d slept with Shawn in the biblical sense. He’d even got talked into having a ‘personal shower party’ that morning after their latest round, though that had more to do with the fact that they were going to be late for check out than anything else.

As Juliet took her turn at check out, Carlton glanced back to see how Shawn was doing in his fight against the luggage. He couldn’t stop a smirk from appearing as he saw Shawn scratching his head, all of the bags still on the ground outside of the trunk.

“I think I’m going to try and help Shawn …” Juliet said, tucking away the receipts she had just received.

“Good luck. I’ll be out there as soon as I’m done.”

She nodded before leaving Carlton to deal with the check-out process. Moving over to Shawn, she smiled. “Need some help?”

“Oh thank god. Jules!” Shawn said, pointing an accusatory finger at the luggage, “What the hell is in your bags?”

Looking to where he pointed, she rose a brow, “Shawn, those are your bags.”

It took him a moment to process before he shrugged, “To-may-to, to-mah-to.”

Juliet laughed, moving closer to survey the trunk. By the time that Carlton joined them, she had managed to get the trunk filled and Shawn looked at her in amazement. “Jules! I’m going to have to call you over to organize my closet!”

“At least someone was able to pack the car. Let’s go,” Carlton grunted out, sliding into the driver’s seat; Juliet joined in on the passenger side, leaving the back seat for Shawn. Stopping for coffee and breakfast foods (with a threat to skin anyone who made a mess in his car), their fourteen hour car ride back to Santa Barbara began.

Thankfully, Shawn had kept quiet about their escapades the previous night and morning, and Carlton could only hope that the ride would be smooth. By getting food for the car’s occupants, more specifically the one in the back seat, the ride was wonderfully silent for all of fifteen minutes.

“Jules! Did Lassie tell you about my business plan?”

“Absolutely not. Why would I tell her? You’re not a psychic.”

Shawn rolled his eyes dramatically as Juliet turned in her seat just slightly so that she could see him better. “Oh don’t listen to Carlton. We’ve all seen you use your powers …” She ignored the driver as he scoffed, “What’s your business plan?”

He grinned brightly, “Psychic detective! I mean … I’ve already helped Lassie on a few cases … Maybe, if Chief Vick thinks it’s a good idea, she could hire me as a consultant! I’m sure you guys get pretty difficult cases … Like that one! The Back Bay Killer! You caught that one, right, Lassie?”

It was an unexpected comment, but Carlton couldn’t help but puff his chest out a bit proudly at the fact. “Yes, that was me. A perfect example of how we can solve cases without you.”

“I could totally help on cases like that! Lassie, take a page from George Michael’s book and have a little Faith in me.” The comment earned a giggle from Juliet and Shawn gave a playful bow in thanks.

Juliet noticed the way that her partner seemed to be completely done with the psychic talk and she gave a weak laugh, turning her attention to Shawn, “Ah, well … Maybe if the Chief needs a last resort … But no promises. Uhm …” She decided to change the subject before Carlton could get really upset with the two of them. “Oh! Have you ever played two lies and a truth?”

“Uh, duh . I am the master at that game!”

Juliet laughed, “Okay, you go first.”

Shawn sat in silence for a moment before grinning, “Okay … I opened an acupuncture clinic, I worked for the Queen of England for three months, or once when I was younger, I ‘haunted’ my best friend by putting a walkie-talkie in his wall?”

As Juliet pondered which of the three choices was fake, Carlton realized he knew the answer. He wasn't sure if he should be happy about that fact, but it made him realize just how much he'd grown to know Shawn in the short time they had spent actually getting to know each other instead of Carlton trying to shoo Shawn away while he enjoyed his coffee.

“Hmm … I'm going to say … the acupuncture clinic!”

Shawn made an obnoxious buzzer sound, putting a scowl back on Carlton’s face. “Wrong! It was the Queen! Plus, that'd probably suck as a job. Too many rules. Like working for the President.”

Juliet laughed, shaking her head as she began to rattle off her own set of truths and lies. Continuing on until they reached the first rest stop, the conversation had blended into background noise and Carlton had stopped paying any attention to the two. Parking, he barely spared a glance at them, “Alright. Rest stop. Do your business. Stretch. Shawn, try to limit how many snacks you get from the vending machine.”

Ignoring the whine that came from the back seat as he told Shawn to limit his snacks, he slipped out of the car and stretched, a few body parts giving appreciative pops as he did so. Watching as the two other occupants of his car wandered off, he finally moved towards the restrooms. Once done, he found himself face to face with the dreaded coffee vending machine again.

“I hate these,” came a familiar sigh beside him as Juliet joined him. “But … I guess that coffee is coffee, right?”

“Not all coffee is equal. This is the prime example,” he responded. “You could always do as Shawn does.” Carlton nodded towards Shawn, who already had two Red Bulls in his arms and was currently shoving snack cakes, candy, crackers, and chips he had swiped from the vending machine into an apron he’d made by holding up the bottom of his shirt.

Juliet turned her nose up at the sight, “Those things are terrible for your body. Probably more so than this vending machine coffee. I’ll take a risk with the sludge.”

“I think ‘sludge’ is too generous of a word for this …”

The two shared a laugh before they wandered back to the car. Shawn dug through the bag he’d made from the bottom of his shirt, he pulled out a candy bar. “Lassie! I got you a Snickers!”

“I don’t want a Snickers.”

“Lassie … You’re not you when you’re hungry.”

Carlton rolled his eyes at the comment, taking the snickers just to silence him. Getting back on the road, a couple hours in, Juliet looked back to see Shawn passed out in the back seat. “Shawn must have been exhausted …”

He glanced at the back seat to see Shawn sprawled out, mouth hanging open, Guster’s neck pillow around his neck, and empty snack wrappers littering the back seat. “That’s what he gets for staying up all night watching a cartoon marathon.”

Laughing, Juliet shook her head, “That sounds like him. I’m amazed you got any sleep.”

“I’ve learned to tune him out for the most part.”

The rest of the trip was much like the trip up, but this time Carlton had Juliet to keep Shawn occupied while he got lost in his thoughts. Once he woke up, Shawn insisted on playing a few of his favorite 80’s hits for her, debating on what the greatest 80’s movie of all time was, what cereal was the best (in taste, color, prize choices, and mascots), and best toppings for hot dogs. As soon as they returned to Santa Barbara (“Already? That trip back seemed way shorter.” “Probably because you slept through a chunk of it, Shawn.”), Carlton dropped his partner off at her home, promising to see her the next day at work.

“Gus is going to pick me up from your place,” Shawn hummed as he looked at his phone. “He’s on his way.”

Carlton gave a nod as he drove back to his house. Pulling into the driveway, he paused awkwardly. “What happened at the retreat, stays at the retreat,” He said, more to himself than Shawn.

Looking up from his phone, Shawn felt a small pang in his chest but nodded, “Yep. Oh! Look! Leftover Doritos … Want some?” He held out a small bag of chips to Lassiter, deflecting from the comment.

Carlton rolled his eyes and got out, starting to unload his bags and take them back into his house. It was only a few moments later that the familiar blue car pulled up to the curb and Shawn grinned brightly as he saw his friend.

“Gus!” The two hugged before Shawn began to drag his bags from Carlton’s car to the Blueberry.

Gus wandered over to Carlton, who paused to see what he had to say, “Looks like you two made it out alive. I figured you would have killed him since this was your first ‘vacation’ together.”

“I thought about it a few times,” Carlton admitted. He glanced at Shawn as he thought of the weekend, remembering how Shawn had handled Adrian and the way that he’d gushed to O’Hara about what he thought of Carlton. “But … His other actions made up for it.”

“And just what the hell happened to his eye?”

Carlton looked back over to Shawn, catching a glimpse of the physical proof of Shawn’s handling of Adrian. “Part of the ‘other actions’. An asshole tripped him and he fell into the corner of a table. If I see the asshole again, I’ll be sure he pays tenfold .”

Gus paused a moment, looking between Carlton, Shawn, and back again. He let out a low whistle. “... You really like him, don’t you?”

Lassiter had to bite the immediate ‘No!’ that wanted to escape. Guster thought they were dating. He had to keep up appearances. “I …” He started, glancing to Shawn. He couldn’t bring himself to say the words, so he settled for nodding.

“Well … My ‘promise’ still stands. Don’t hurt him.”

“Alright Gus!” Shawn said with a grin as he half-jogged over. “I am craving some jerk chicken. How’s about we grab some on the way to my place?”

“You payin’?”

“Well, I guess I do owe you for watching my plants.”

“You know that’s right.”

Gus headed towards the Blueberry as Shawn leaned in, kissing the Carlton’s cheek. “See you ‘round, Lassie?”

“Yeah …” Carlton watched as Shawn flashed him a grin before jogging off towards the car. He gave a wave as the blue car finally sped off.

Then Carlton Lassiter was alone.

It was weird to be alone after nearly a week of being in constant contact with someone, pretending to date them. The silence of his home was nearly deafening and he turned on the television for background noise while he unpacked. By evening, he had ordered some take-out, sitting in front of the television to eat it. Some cheesy movie was on and Carlton found himself nearly turning to ask if Shawn had seen this one before.

Standing in the doorway of his bedroom, he frowned at his empty bed. He’d been dreading this all day as soon as he remembered that he was going to be sleeping alone once again. Eventually, he gave in and slipped into the bed; tossing and turning, trying to fall asleep. At some point during the night, Carlton managed to fall into a restless sleep. The next day found the exhausted detective snapping at everyone who came across his path. By lunch, Juliet approached his desk cautiously.

“Is everything okay, Carlton?”

“Of course. Why wouldn’t it be?”

“It’s just … You’ve been a little … harsh … to everyone today.”

“Only when people deserve it.”

“You yelled at Buzz because his shoe was untied!”

“We have standards we need to uphold here!”

Juliet crossed her arms over her chest, “You also yelled at Officer Harris because she was, and I quote, ‘Breathing too loud’.” She held her hand up to stop whatever excuse Carlton nearly spewed. “What’s wrong? Did you have a fight with Shawn?”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he silently counted to ten in order to try and calm himself. He knew that his partner meant well, he was just in no mood to deal with anyone today. “I just didn’t get much sleep last night. No, we didn’t fight. I’m just exhausted.”

Juliet sighed, pulling a chair up to Carlton’s desk, no doubt ready to give him advice he didn’t particularly want. “You probably didn’t sleep well because Shawn wasn’t there with you … You said you slept well the entire time we were at the retreat.”

“I told you that was because of the mattress.”

Juliet gave him a knowing look and Carlton found himself unable to meet her eyes. “I’m not going to tell you that you should ask him to move in with you … But you should relax a bit today. I think you might have made Officer Harris cry.” Juliet gave him a sad look, the one that made him feel guilty that he’d lashed out.

“I’ll try .”

“What if I said the Chief wants to see us? She has a case.”

“Why didn’t you say that before?!” He said, shooting up from his seat. “Let’s go.”

Juliet smiled some as she followed after him. That was more like it. A couple days passed with several solved cases under their belt before Shawn made an appearance at the station.

“Lassie!” Shawn said, grin wide on his face. Skipping over, he sat on the edge of Carlton’s desk. “My favorite detective~. Why haven’t you answered my texts?”

Carlton sighed in slight annoyance, “Why should I respond to, ‘Lassie, are you combing your sternbush’ or ‘How many marshmallows do you think I can fit in my mouth’?”

“Because that’s what boyfriends do.”

Rolling his eyes, he looked up as Chief Vick moved over to his desk. “Detective Lassiter. I need an update on the Richardson case … Oh … Hello Mr. Spencer.”

“Chief! How are you?”

“I’m doing well … Now, if you’ll excuse us …” Karen paused a moment, “Actually, perhaps we could use your help, Mr. Spencer.”

Shawn looked a bit confused. Help? The detectives? “Of course … What do you need?”

“We have a kidnapping. It’s a high profile case and we’re running out of time. O’Hara mentioned you had offered your … unique skill set if we needed it.”

His eyes lit up, glancing from where Juliet stood smiling back to the Chief, “Seriously? Yeah! Let’s do this!”

Turning to walk towards the conference room, she paused and turned back around once more. “And Mr. Spencer … You do realize that if this is a scam, we will prosecute you for hindering a police investigation, correct?”

Giving a small salute, he nodded, “Absolutely.”

Forty-eight hours and much more flailing later, Shawn had cracked the case. Sarah Richardson had originally been kidnapped by a friend of hers in an attempt to get money from her father, who was cutting her off. Unfortunately, the kidnapping became real when a mugger killed her friend and saw the chance to make a quick payday now that the ‘hard work’ of stealing Sarah away was done. Shawn had managed to follow the clues and ‘psychically’ led the detectives to a small house on the outskirts of a cemetery where Sarah had been held.

Once she’d been safely recovered and Shawn had been commended on his good work, he caught up with Lassiter. “That was amazing! Total adrenaline rush. We got the bad guy and saved the girl!”

“How do you do it?”

“Lassie … We’ve gone over this …” Shawn held his hand up to his head, “Psychic.”

“We both know that’s bullshit.”

“Yeah, yeah …” He said before giving Lassiter a quick kiss on the cheek, knowing that the other officers there knew about their ‘relationship’. They hadn’t broken it off yet, so he was just keeping up appearances. The kisses were bonuses. “See you on the next one?”

“Hopefully there won’t be a next one!”

“Chief already promised to call~” Shawn said grinning as he hopped on his motorcycle, blowing a kiss towards Lassiter before he left.

Carlton did see him at the next one. This time the ‘psychic’ had figured out what had seemed like a suicide was actually a murder; an old man killed by his daughter for the insurance money. Shawn had danced, skipped, and even put on a fake woman’s voice as he ‘conjured’ the voice of a spirit who saw the whole thing in order to lead them towards the killer. He groped Carlton openly, leaving the detective bright red, trying to collect himself.

He saw Shawn at the one after that. A couple weeks later, what looked to be a bear mauling turned out to be a cover up for a gang murder. This time, the fake psychic had brought business cards for ‘Psych’. Carlton couldn’t believe that he had gone far enough that he’d actually made the business. Not just that but he had found out that Shawn had quit the coffee shop.

The next time he saw the fake psychic, a robbery gone wrong had Shawn leading them through a out-of-use amusement park that was said to be haunted. The only spooks they found was the robber. Dressed as a clown, Shawn had tackled the robber and led them to where the jewelry was. Shawn and Carlton had shared a celebratory kiss in front of a few of the other officers, face paint smearing on Lassiter’s face as the audience murmured their approvals of their (fake) relationship.

Time after time again they ran into each other. Days turned into weeks, which turned into months. Each time, Carlton insisted that Shawn’s help wasn’t necessary. They didn’t need a psychic . Psychics didn’t exist. Each time, Shawn proved him wrong. He’d been the key to solving everything from robberies to kidnappings, and even a drug bust. Shawn had become part of the force, stopping by the station to visit Carlton and the others in between cases, and as far as anyone knew, they were madly in love.

The last time Carlton ran into him at a scene, the fake psychic divined that a recent murder was part of a string of revenge murders. He had figured out that a husband was murdering the doctors he thought had misdiagnosed his wife and eventually caused her death. Without thinking, Shawn rushed in to try and save the latest doctor. The husband had pointed his gun at Shawn, threatening him, and that had been how Carlton had found them. Carlton’s gun was trained at the husband when the fake psychic made a smart ass comment that focused all of the husband’s attention to him.

Carlton had barely seen the husband’s finger twitch on the trigger before he knocked Shawn out of the way, taking the bullet to his shoulder. Aiming at the husband, he returned the favor, running on adrenaline. As the husband was shot and fell back, the doctor who had been held hostage scrambled away, allowing Carlton to place handcuffs on the now injured husband. He allowed one of the uniformed police officers to take the husband away before placing his hand on his own wound, wincing in pain.

“Lassie!” Shawn said, rushing over, hands hovering over Carlton’s, which quickly became coated in warm blood. “Hooooly -- … Carlton … You took a bullet for me …”

“Because you were being an idiot …” He grunted out through clenched teeth. “You’re not a damn psychic! This isn’t the place for civilians ! You could have been shot and died , did you ever think of that?! No … I bet you didn’t. This is all just one big joke to you, isn’t it?!”

Shawn was taken back slightly. This was more pissed than he’d ever seen Carlton, and that included after he’d shown up randomly at the station and kissed him for the first time. “Lassie …”

“Don’t ‘Lassie’ me! This is what happens when you pretend to be a damn psychic when we both know you aren’t and flaunt yourself around, groping me in the middle of a case! People get hurt! You’re lucky you didn’t die …”

Carlton winced as the adrenaline began to wear off and the full pain of a bullet ripping through his shoulder hit him. Shawn felt his heart drop as the paramedics ran in, taking care of Lassiter.

Carlton had taken a bullet for him.

Carlton had saved him.

Now he was on his way to the hospital to get his shoulder patched up. Running a shaking hand through his hair as Juliet moved into the room, she placed a hand on his arm, “Shawn? Are you okay?”

“I think I’m going to be sick.”

Immediately, Juliet looked around, grabbing a trash can for Shawn to empty his stomach into. Rubbing his back, she sighed. “Carlton will be okay,” She tried to reassure him.

Wiping his mouth, he licked his lips, “He got hurt because of me. He was really pissed …”

“It’ll be okay …”

“I hope so,” Shawn murmured.

Juliet led him away to write up his statement. Once he was done, she offered to treat him to whatever he wanted to eat, but he declined, opting for moping around his apartment instead. Late that evening, when he could no longer take it, he drove over to Carlton’s home and knocked on the door. Rocking back and forth, he waited until the door opened, revealing Lassiter.

Carlton frowned some but moved to the side, opening the door more, “Come in."

Nodding, the fake psychic slid into the home. “Did you redecorate?” He asked, knowing very well that he hadn’t, but he needed something to break the silence.

“No,” Carlton said, crossing his arms with a wince. Shawn could see the edges of a bandage under the detective’s t-shirt. “What do you want, Shawn?”

“I … Just came by to see how you were …”

“Alive, thankfully .” Shawn winced. After a moment, he continued, “I think it’s time we finally call it quits.”

“What?”

“You knew this was coming. We agreed to break up after a few weeks. It’s long past time to do it. This wasn’t real, remember?”

“Yeah, I remember …” Shawn said, pretending as if he wasn’t affected. It hurt. Hell, it felt like he was the one who was shot. Carlton hadn’t brought up their ‘break up’ and he hadn’t tried to remind him. “So I guess this is it?”

Carlton gave a nod. “Thank you for the help …”

It was just so cold and … formal . “Anytime, Lassie. I’ll see you around …” Shawn felt as though the world was closing around him, but he wouldn’t let anyone see he was hurting. He was great at that. On the outside, he looked as though he was telling some random Joe Schmoe goodbye; on the inside, he was suffocating. Hell, he wouldn’t even get to see Carlton at the coffee shop since he wasn’t there anymore. Giving a half wave, he quickly moved out of the house, trying to drink in as much of the fresh air as he could.

Carlton stood in the doorway, watching Shawn leave, a familiar frown plastered on his face. He couldn’t handle Shawn getting into trouble like today. Carlton had been terrified that he was going to lose him in a more permanent sense at the rate he was going. It had been too close of a call.

Closing the door, he sighed, going to sit on his couch. He had been debating, in the last couple of weeks, on possibly asking Shawn to go on a proper date with him. He figured that he hadn’t murdered him yet, but something kept holding him back.

Now it was over.

He hoped that distancing himself from the male would keep him safe. Shawn hadn’t tried to fight it. He had thought Shawn was more invested in the relationship (even though it was fake) than he apparently had been. He just accepted that it was over and waved goodbye. Well, the male had said that he was good at improv.

He’d even fooled Carlton.

The next day, he told Juliet that he had broke it off with Shawn; that he just couldn’t handle it anymore. He told her that she was free to keep hanging out with him, however; he didn’t want to ruin their friendship. Juliet had offered her ear to him whenever he needed someone to talk to.

Just like that, Carlton returned to a fake psychic-free life. Ignoring the pang in his chest at the loss of Shawn, he found himself nearly writing him a text every so often. Catching himself before he sent it, he would erase the message and scold himself for getting that far. Shawn hadn’t tried to contact him, so he wasn’t going to try and contact him. He was better than this. Somehow, this felt worse than when he’d divorced from Victoria.

Was he in love with Shawn?

Well … Fuck. It was too late now. This was for the better anyways. Instead of dwelling on it, Carlton threw himself completely into his work. Lonely weeks turned into busy months of work. His arrest and case closure record was superb. It had been years since he’d been at the top of his game like this. He spent over twelve hours at the station every day, going home once the Chief had finally kicked him out, telling him to get rest.

“You’ll kill yourself at this rate, Carlton. You need rest. You’re going on leave. I don’t want to see you back here for a week. No excuses,” She said sternly.

“But Karen!” He flinched at the glare she directed his way. “Chief. Please. I’m on top of my game! I’m fine!”

“I saw you falling asleep standing while reading a file. I’m sure that your case streak will continue once you come back from leave. This isn’t the first time I’ve had to tell you to go home. I know that … What happened with Mr. Spencer,” She watched as he stiffened at the name, “Hit you hard, but I need my head detective to be clear headed and well rested. Now Carlton … Go home. Get some rest. Relax .” Karen shifted some of her papers around before looking back up to him, “And Carlton? A little advice? Move on. It’s for the best.”

Juliet bit her lip as she watched the interaction through the window, knowing exactly what the Chief was talking to her partner about. She had encouraged Chief Vick to put him on leave. At this rate, she was worried that Carlton was going to make a fatal mistake and she knew they had to intervene. Juliet’s heart sank as she saw just how crushed Carlton looked once he emerged from the Chief’s office. She had to help.

“Carlton … How are you feeling?” She asked, approaching him before he could leave.

“Chief put me on leave for the next week …” He sighed, “She also told me to ‘move on’.”

So that was why he looked so crushed. Reaching out, she took his hand in hers to comfort him, ignoring how he shied away from her. “How about this? Come with me? I’ve got a double blind date on Saturday. My friend is setting me up with this guy from her job who is apparently super nice and he’s bringing his friend who also went through a breakup recently and is trying to get back out there. I was going to ask my friend Jack to come with me, but … I think you could use a night out more than him.” The woman smiled, “I’ll pay for your meal and alcohol … Plus, if they’re a terrible date, you get to play knight in shining armor! He might even need to be arrested for something.”

Carlton was completely ready to say no, but the hopeful look in her eyes held him back.

“Alright. Saturday night. It’s a date.”

Chapter Text

Carlton sighed as he looked at himself in the mirror. It had been years since he’d been on a proper date. He had decided to play it casual, opening the top buttons on his shirt and rolling his sleeves up to his elbows. He didn’t even want to go on this date but if it appeased Juliet to go along with her, he’d do it.

He wasn’t going to enjoy it, though.

Lassiter checked his watch and ran a hand once more through his hair. It was time to head over to his partner’s house to pick her up. He had tried to convince her to take two cars, but she had insisted that if her date went well, she could catch a ride with her date; if it didn’t go well, and Carlton had decided to leave early, she could always take a taxi. He assumed the real reason was to make sure that he actually showed up for this date. It was a smart move, really. He could have just said he had a flat tire and never show up.

Pulling up to Juliet’s house, he honked the horn to alert her that he was outside. As she ventured out, he took a moment to just watch her. She had dressed really nice for the date and it reminded him of when he went on date nights with Victoria. As quickly as the thought entered his mind, it was swept away by thoughts of what it would have been like to go on a date with Shawn. Would he even bother to look nice or would he wear ratty jeans and some t-shirt with a cheesy saying on it? What would he look like in a tux? Would he prefer to go somewhere fancy or just a trip to the local Red Robin? He guessed that anywhere that had pineapple on the menu would probably get him bonus date points from the fake psychic.

Juliet slipped into the passenger seat with a smile, “Thank you for picking me up, Carlton … You look fantastic! This is a great look for you …”

Carlton looked down at himself. He felt naked without his tie and holster (of course, he could still feel his ankle holster, which put him at ease). “Ah … Thank you, O’Hara. You look lovely. I’m sure your date will love it.”

She let out a shaky, nervous breath. “I certainly hope so. You know,” she started as he started their drive, “I don’t really do blind dates. I thought I’d take a chance though, especially since Melinda--that’s my friend--vouched for him.”

“Do you know his name?”

“No … He’s supposed to be wearing a suit with a purple shirt, purple tie, and a white rose in his jacket pocket.”

“Does he know your name?”

Juliet laughed, shaking her head. “Melinda apparently wanted this to be some sort of big secret. Something about Facebook making it way too easy to ruin blind dates since you can cyberstalk people? I can kind of understand that logic. Anyways, he knows that I’m bringing a friend for his friend and that I’m wearing a red rose in my hair to match my red dress,” she said, motioning to the flower then the dress for emphasis.

Carlton was silent for a short while as he drove. “So … What if this date goes awfully?”

Juliet glanced over to him, a small sigh escaping her. “Carlton … You should at least give it a try . If you go into it thinking that it’s going to be awful, then it will be. Try for me? Please?”

Glancing over, he ran a hand over his face. “I’ll try.” But he wasn’t going to try very hard. He hated blind dates. He couldn’t run the person through their system at the station if he didn’t know their name. He just wanted to make sure they had no, or very minor, priors before actually dating someone. Was that really so bad?

Pulling up to the restaurant, he rose a brow. This was a far nicer restaurant than he’d expected. Now he really felt underdressed. Juliet smiled as if she read his mind, “Don’t worry, they’re a little more casual than they let on.”

Carlton nodded, letting Juliet take the lead. Once they had parked, she slipped out of the car and led him inside, weaving through tables as she spotted her date, while he followed a few steps behind, taking in his surroundings to mentally mark all of his exits. It didn't hurt to be prepared in case there were some shady dealings at the restaurant. That's how it always happened in mob movies, right? As soon as they stopped, he looked over to the four-top table, blood running cold as he saw who sat at the table.

“Guster?” He asked the table’s only occupant.

“Lassiter.” He looked positively pissed, as if he'd been waiting to punch Carlton in the face since he and Shawn called it off.

Juliet looked a bit confused as she looked between the two. “You know each other?”

All color that was in Carlton’s face had drained. “If you’re here, that means your friend is …”

“Hey Gus! This place is so fancy they have mints in the bathroom!” Shawn said, wandering over to the table, focused on counting the mints he’d swiped in his hand. Once he had reached the table and finished his counting, he looked up and froze. “... Lassie?”

Carlton looked like he was going to be sick. Opening his mouth, he immediately closed it. He should have noticed before. He should have seen Guster’s ridiculous blue car or Shawn’s bike somewhere in the parking lot or noticed Guster through the window. Turning quickly, the male made a hasty exit, practically running to his car.

“Carlton!” Juliet called out, rushing after him. Catching up to him at his car, she frowned, “I am so sorry … I had no clue … If I knew--”

“It’s fine, O’Hara,” he said, trying not to lash out at her. She didn’t know. Hell, she hadn’t even known the name of who she was meeting. “Go enjoy your dinner. Guster is a good man from what I’ve heard.”

“Carlton, I can’t …”

“Don’t let me ruin your good night. Now go .” Lassiter gave the order before slipping into his car. He knew that she had been excited about the date and he didn’t want to ruin it for her like he seemed to ruin everything else. Pulling out of the parking lot, he made his way to Tom Blair’s Pub, aiming to drown himself in alcohol.

He was four drinks in, head swimming from the generous pouring the bartender was doing, when he noticed someone plop down next to him. He silently nursed his scotch as the person next to him ordered some kind of fruity, icy drink.

“Took me three bars to find you, Lassie.”

The male gave a small scoff. He knew who it was from that nickname anywhere. “Should’a used your psychic powers,” he said, waving his hand and wiggling his fingers to try and pantomime ‘magic’.

“I thought you thought that was all bullshit?”

“It is … ‘s why it took you three bars.”

Shawn thanked the bartender as his drink was placed in front of him. Sipping, he gave an appreciative thumbs up to the woman behind the bar before turning his attention back to the head detective. “You know, it’s rude to stand your date up like that. Especially when you look that good …” His eyes ran over Carlton’s form. “The forearms, the sternbush … You know how to make a guy weak at the knees, Lassie.”

“I didn’ wanna go …” He admitted, swirling the liquid in his glass as he stared at it. “O’Hara asked me to go, so I did.”

“Why didn’t you want to go? I mean, we’re done and over with … You said that yourself.”

Carlton gave a half laugh. “Because I still like you …”

“I wasn’t even aware you liked me in the first place,” Shawn said with a laugh. “I thought you were just tolerating me to get your coworkers off your back still. I mean, you kept bringing up how it was all fake and ‘we’ had a deadline ...”

“It started out that way …” Carlton threw back the last of his drink. “But you didn’t like me … So I was trying to not like you in return; but I couldn’t ‘cause I kept thinking ‘bout kissing you and all the nice things you said ...  Then you just left like it was nothin’ … Not even a lil’ bit of a fight to stay ...” Shawn paused, glancing to Lassiter, who swayed some on his stool. “You astound me, Spencer. I dunno how you do it … We both know the psychic thing is bullshit … And you’re infuriating !”

“Oh, gee willikers. Thanks.”

“You’re such an idiot … All … Running into places you’re not s’posed to. That’s my job!” Carlton turned on his stool unsteadily so he could fully look at the fake psychic in front of him. “Y’know how many times I almost called you? Texted you? I made McNab cry! …” He paused a moment. “Or was it Harris? Maybe Jenkins? One of ‘em. It was a couple times. ‘Cause I was so angry! You could’a died !”

Shawn stiffened slightly. He was far too sober and Carlton was far too drunk to be having this conversation. “But I didn’t. You saved me, Lassie. Saved Timmy from the well.”

“What? There was no Timmy … Just you …”

Shawn laughed weakly. “Alright, let’s get you home, yeah? As much as it’ll pain me to do, we should probably talk about this tomorrow, when you’re sober. I don’t know how much of this you’re going to remember and I really don’t wanna get punched for stepping out of bounds ‘cause you don’t remember having a conversation with me …”

Slipping his hand into Carlton’s back pocket, he fished out his wallet and paid for their drinks (he’d owe Carlton one for buying his drink). Taking a stumbling Lassiter out to the parking lot, he then got the his keys and led him to the Crown Vic.

“What’re you doing? I can’t drive …”

“Why no, no you cannot, Lassie. That’s why I’m going to drive.”

Carlton scowled, “You’re gonna mess up my car.”

“I pinky promise you that I will not mess up your car. I’m actually a little more worried about you vomiting in the car than my driving …” He helped Carlton into the passenger side before jogging to the driver’s side to get in. “Just close your eyes and when you open them, we’ll be back at your place, okay?”

“Pfffft … Like that’ll happen.”

Lassiter closed his eyes and Shawn was grateful that his gambling worked because the next thing he knew, quiet snoring came from the passenger side. It didn’t take long to make it to Carlton’s home and he pulled into the driveway and leaned over to gently shake Carlton awake. “Hey Lassie … C’mon, let’s get you into the house …”

Waking up, he frowned a bit as he looked around. “Huh … It’s my house … We were just at the bar. How’d we get here?”

“Magic …” Shawn said with a laugh, trying to help him out of the car.

“Magic doesn’t exist, Spencer …”

Shawn laughed some as he led the detective inside. Helping him to the bedroom, he stripped him of his shoes and belt. He thought about completely stripping him, but thought better of it. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t seen Carlton naked before, but he didn’t want the him thinking Shawn had taken advantage of him while he was drunk or anything. Looking at Carlton, who was already passed out, sprawled over the bed, he shook his head with a smile. Gathering some ibuprofen and a glass of water, he placed them on Lassiter’s nightstand before heading out of the house.

Shoving his hands in his pockets, he started walking towards Tom Blair’s in order to pick up his motorcycle and drive home. Carlton Lassiter had genuinely liked him. At first, he thought the detective had liked him, especially when they were making out when no one else was looking. Then, he had convinced himself that it must have all been a part of the ruse; Lassiter didn’t like him, he liked the intimate moments, sure, but he only tolerated Shawn in order to keep the whole ‘boyfriends’ thing going. He thought that had been the whole reason that they’d broken up. Carlton had gotten shot because of Shawn and so playtime was over.

How could he have been such an idiot?

He had just left . That had been his relationship test and he’d failed immensely. All because he couldn’t see that that gruff exterior he’d interpreted as ‘toleration’ was just Carlton ; the man who would take a bullet for him then kick him out to keep him safe.

How did he not see it before?!

“Dammit!” Shawn growled out to the empty street. He was going to have to sit down and talk to Carlton. Tomorrow. He’d do it tomorrow.

He just hoped that Carlton would listen to him.

***

Carlton’s head was pounding. It felt like an entire construction crew was right there in his bed with him. The male paused. His bed. How did he get to his bed? Sitting up with a groan, he held his head and looked around. Nothing seemed out of place … Glancing to his bedside table, he thanked whatever angel had placed the water and ibuprofen there, immediately taking a few of the pills and chugging the water.

Getting out of bed, he wandered around his house for a moment. How the hell did he get home ? The last thing he remembered, he had been at Tom Blair’s. He vaguely remembered talking to someone, but that could have just been the bartender cutting him off. All of his clothes were on, so it wasn’t as if he took someone home for the night. Glancing outside his house, he frowned as he saw his car. Did he drive? His keys sat on the table by his door with a small piece of paper underneath that read ‘No, you didn’t drive yourself home’. He knew that messy handwriting and the psychic-like reading of his mind … Lassiter scowled. How the hell had Shawn found him at the bar after he’d run out on the date?

Carlton looked around before finding his phone, pulling up Shawn’s contact information to send a text, ‘ What were you doing in my house? ’

He needed a shower while he waited for the fake psychic’s response. Halfway through his shower, he heard his phone vibrate against the countertop in the bathroom to signal a few incoming texts. Part of him hoped that it wasn’t Shawn who had been in his house; he’d take a kindly burglar who left his keys and ibuprofen instead of taking things at this point. A smaller part of him hoped it was Shawn and somehow, they could reconcile everything that had happened and at the very least he could finally move on like everyone had kept telling him since they broke up. As soon as he was done with his shower, he opened the phone, frowning at the screen.

‘ Good! Ur awake! Omw 2 ur place ’

‘ Will xplain when I get ther ’

‘ I hav smoothies :) ’

Great. Drying off, he heard his doorbell go off as he finished changing into clean clothes. Carlton took a steadying breath before opening the door to reveal a tired looking Shawn Spencer. He hadn’t noticed the bags under his eyes the night before, as if the fake psychic hadn’t slept in weeks. In fact, he hadn’t gotten a good look at him the previous night. It looked as if Shawn had the world on his shoulders. He tried to be his usual upbeat self, but something was weighing him down and probably the cause for his insomnia, Carlton guessed.

“I brought you a smoothie! It’s boring strawberry-banana, but I figured it was a safe bet and you probably didn’t want pineapple this early in the morning. Or … Well … Afternoon, I guess.” Shawn rocked on his feet, “... Can I come in?”

Carlton took a few moments before he took the offered smoothie and stepped to the side to let Shawn in. As soon as he was given free reign of the house, he moved in and plopped down on the couch as if he owned it. Carlton shut the front door, placing the smoothie untouched to the side, and crossed his arms. “What are you doing here, Shawn?”

“I’m really not good at these heart to hearts, but … We need to talk.”

“Sure. Why don’t we start with why you were at my house last night?”

Shawn ran a hand through his hair with a sigh, “I found you at Tom Blair’s last night. You were drunk so I brought you back to your house, set you up with some water and ibuprofen, and went back to get my bike.” He took a moment before continuing, “I had no clue you were going to be at the restaurant last night, otherwise I wouldn’t have gone. Gus said he didn’t know who his date was, so, he didn’t know who my date was. But … I’m glad I did go.”

“Why?”

Playing with the straw in his cup, he focused his attention there instead of the way Carlton was staring at him with those eyes that he knew made criminals crack in the station’s interrogation rooms. “Because I got to see you again.”

“What?”

“Aw c’mon … I’m not good with this kind of thing …”

“Just spit it out, Spencer.”

Shawn visibly flinched before he took a deep breath. “Lassie, I like you. All of that--the weekend and everything afterwards wasn’t just a show. I like you. I liked you before we went on the retreat. Why do you think I suggested being fake boyfriends? Hell, I’d even risk saying that I el-oh-vee-e you. I’d also rather be k-i-s-s-i-n-g you in a tree than actually talking all of this out, but that seems a little dangerous and probably counterproductive.” Running a hand through his hair, he sighed, “I thought that you were just tolerating me … That you didn’t actually like me, you just wanted to fool your coworkers. There were a couple times I thought maybe you did like me, but then you’d bring up the whole break up deal or you would just distance yourself from me and … I figured that you just … were done with me and the whole act, like we planned, that’s why I left.”

Carlton stared at Shawn as he rambled on. “You’re an idiot.”

“Huh? Oh, yeah. Trust me, well aware of that.”

“I thought you were just continuing on with the fake relationship for the sake of helping me, not that you actually enjoyed it!” Carlton said, trembling slightly. “You piss me off so much, running into danger like you’re invincible! If something happened to you …” His hands balled into fists and Shawn was up in a flash. He took Carlton’s fists in his to try and soothe him.

“Hey … I’m right here. I get it … When you got hurt …” Shawn sighed, “I never wanted you to get hurt. I didn’t realize just how terrified of losing you I was until you got shot.” He paused, watching Lassiter’s hands, “I can’t promise that I won’t get myself into danger. I’m kind of danger prone … And if I see someone in danger and I know I can stop it, I’m probably going to jump head first without thinking … But , I can try to think a little before jumping into danger. Text you and give you a heads up or something.”

Shawn finally looked up to Lassiter. “Whaddya say, Carlton? Date me for real? Let’s do this thing the mostly normal way?”

“Mostly?”

“Well, as normal as we can when we’ve been fake dating for months prior. We’ve already fake dated for over six months already before we broke up …”

Eyeing him for a moment, Carlton licked his lips, “You said that you weren’t faking it. Did you mean … When you told Juliet that I was the greatest man you knew … That speech you gave her … Was that all true? Was that what you really thought of me?”

A genuine smile spread across Shawn’s face as he ran a finger over his chest in an ‘X’ formation, “It was all true. Cross my heart.”

Carlton couldn’t stop the smile that breached his stern look before he leaned in and kissed Shawn. “Yes. I’d love to go on a real date with you.”

“Awesome! I should uh … Probably tell Gus. Prepare him. He was kind of ready to kick your ass.”

“He was what?”

“Something about giving you a warning before? It was his best friend-duty to avenge my honor? I kind of had to stop him a few times from barging into the station and challenging you to fisticuffs, which I knew he’d probably lose even though he’s been hitting the gym lately.”

“You must be joking. I knew he looked pissed to see me yesterday, but I didn’t think it was because he actually wanted to try and punch me.”

Shawn grinned as he went back to the couch to grab his smoothie. “100% not joking.”

Carlton shook his head, running a hand through his hair. Just what was he getting himself into? He paused, glancing over to where Shawn had set up shop on his couch, texting and drinking his smoothie. He determined that, as long as he was with Shawn, he somehow didn’t mind.

“You do realize that at some point we need to talk about how you’re not a real psychic, correct?”

Without missing a beat, Shawn’s hand instinctively flew to his head as he continued to look at his phone while responding to Carlton, “Mm … the spirits are telling me that that won’t be happening. They also tell me that your shirt is inside out.”

Immediately, Carlton looked down to see he was indeed correct. The fact that he had deflected the question left his mind as he fixed his shirt.

He’d figure it out eventually.

***

Several Months Later …

“Lassie! C’mon! Jules and Gus are gonna kill us if we’re late!”

Stepping out of the bathroom, Carlton finished rolling up his left sleeve. “What is the point of a double date? That just means you have to deal with twice as much conversation.”

“Alright, first off, Lassie Face, you owe me. We haven’t been out in forever!”

“Shawn, we went out last week. You demanded we go see the Val Kilmer marathon the movie theater was holding.”

“Yeah! That was last week .”

Carlton rolled his eyes. “We’re not going to be late, so stop worrying.”

Shawn’s eyes looked over Lassiter’s body appreciatively. “You look sexier with the holster on. Probably not good for date night, though.”

“I have the one on my ankle.”

“Not the same.” Shawn grinned a bit before digging under the bed, pulling out a rectangular present wrapped in green and gold pineapple wrapping paper. “I got you a present.”

Carlton looked at him suspiciously. “What for?”

“Well, it’s our one year anniversary.”

Carlton paused, glancing at the calendar before frowning, “No … We’ve only been dating for five months, Shawn.” He hoped that Shawn wasn’t going where he thought he was going with this. Carlton had had plans and here he was, ruining the surprise he had kept tucked away for the last week.

“ Officially . It’s our unofficial one year anniversary. Y’know … Including the fake dating.” The fake psychic grinned as he held out the small rectangular box. “Cmon … Take it.”

Taking the present, he held it up to his ear to make sure it wasn’t ticking before he finally opened it with caution. Inside, he frowned as he found a bunch of brochures for Civil War battlefields. “Thanks? You shouldn’t have.”

Shawn rolled his eyes, “Chief told me that you have vacation time that you need to take off and she said that you actually need to take a vacation, especially after that last case I worked.”

“ We worked. You ate frozen yogurt and claimed that the spirits told you to ‘consume twice your bodyweight in pineapple upside down cake froyo’ … Then you said, ‘Oh. Right. The spirits say the killer is Michael Nguyen’ and O’Hara and I did the actual legwork, which included getting a rather nice knife wound on my right side.”

“Aaaanyways, Chief said you needed a vacation and charged me with getting you out of the station … So … We’re going to hop on a plane and see some Civil War stuff!” Shawn motioned to the brochures, “Ta-da …”

Carlton looked back at the brochures, leafing through them quickly before smiling. He leaned over to kiss the male. “Thank you, Shawn … That’s thoughtful …”

“Oh y’know … It was nothing.”

“I got you a present as well.”

“What?”

“Did you think I actually forgot our fake one year anniversary? Remember who came up with our backstory? I was hoping to save it for later but someone decided to pull out their own present to give.” He replied with a scoff. Carlton went into the kitchen, finding his box of ‘old man cereal’ (as Shawn affectionately put it) and pulled out a small present wrapped in a royal blue paper. Bringing it back to the bedroom, he handed it to Shawn to open.

“I hope it’s a gold coin that holds the Lassiter family luck and you’re giving it to me to keep it safe from a far darrig.”

“Open the box, Shawn.”

Snickering a bit, Shawn opened up the box, pausing as he looked at the key within. He looked up at Carlton questioningly.

“Although you’ve practically moved yourself in anyways … I thought I should ask you properly. Would you move in with me?”

Shawn’s face lit up, “Lassie, this is the best present ever! This is even better than the Lassiter family luck.” Placing the key on his keychain, he pulled the detective in for a kiss.

“I take it that’s a yes?”

“Lassie, don’t be old, sticky soda in the bottom of a cupholder. Of course I’m going to say yes! Any guy who can handle dinner with my dad is someone I wanna move in with. We can plan our escape from his dinner parties and fishing trips together.”

Carlton groaned, “That reminds me … I’m supposed to go fishing with him this Friday.”

Shawn laughed, “When I say to duck, you should just trust me.”

“How was I supposed to know you meant ‘duck because my father is walking down the sidewalk’? There wasn’t an immediate threat!”

“I think we can safely say that my father is an immediate threat. He might not attack you with a gun or a knife, but he’ll get you with fishing and awkward dinners.”

Carlton sighed, shaking his head. Shawn was right. He hadn’t ducked behind the dumpster like Shawn and had wound up getting roped into a fishing day with the elder Spencer. Since they had been open about getting back together (no one had been told that their previous relationship had been faked), Henry had been dropping subtle threats about what he would do to the detective if he hurt Shawn (again). Carlton was sure that was how his Friday morning fishing adventure would go.

“C’mon Lassie … Enough thinking about how my dad is going to not-so-subtly sharpen his fishing knife in front of you while he asks about your intentions with his son.”

“How did you …”

“How many more times do we need to go over this? Psychic, Lassie.”

“We both know that’s a lie. But you’re right, we have a restaurant to get to.” Leading Shawn towards the door, he hummed. “One day I’m going to figure out just how you do it.”

Shawn snickered, leaning up to kiss Carlton, “You do that, and I’ll marry you.”

“Deal.”