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“Hey you, yeah you mister tight shirt, if you unfold one more shirt then don’t even go try it on or attempt to fold it I’m going to take it and stuff it down your throat,” Shawn growled. Normally he just went behind customers and refolded the shirts not caring that he just did it. But today wasn’t a normal day. It started with a mom leaving her sons dirty diaper in a fitting room, continuing with having to clean up a spilt soda from a teen (even though the sign clearly says no food and drink), not getting a break yet, and then this guy has been shopping for an hour unfolding every table that Shawn had already folded for the night. And could it just be one or two shirts on a table? Noooo, it had to be one in every color. Can’t he look without touching?
“Excuse me?” the retail destroyer asked.
“Sorry, will you please stop undoing all my work? I’ve seriously folded that table twice now, just from you shopping it,” Shawn pleaded. He needed to fold all the tables in the store before he could go home for the night in two hours and normally no one really shopped in the men’s section after 7 and it was now 8.
“Well, Shawn,” he said giving a dismissive glance to his name tag, “I have a right to shop here and I do plan on buying something. So I guess you’ll just have to suck it up and do your crappy, low paying job, that you’re not even that good at.”
“Excuse you? I am excellent at me job,” Shawn scoffed.
“Well it isn’t that hard to be good at such a mediocre job now is it?” the man smirked.
Shawn was really started to get ticked off at this guy. “Well I guess it must take some talent since I’m the only one that’s lasted out of the entire group that got hired with me.”
“Well, congratulations then,” the man rolled his eyes and started to go for another color of the shirt he was looking at, clearly dismissing Shawn.
“Hey, what do you do that makes you able to look down on someone as low as the peasants like me then? No wait, I’ll figure it out,” he said started to really look at the man.
“Be my guest,” then man stood up straight and spread his arms.
“Challenge accepted. And better yet I’ll get it right in one try and in less than a minute,” Shawn bragged. Black hair that was starting to gray along the temples and throughout the top, dark circles under his eyes that suggested he was up later than most, or up earlier than most. The most piercing blue eyes he had ever seen, that seemed to be making him want to confess all kinds of wicked things, wait what? His pants and shirt were matched perfectly and seemed to have been once perfectly ironed but throughout the day had gained some slack and wrinkles. But his tie was still straight and tightened up to his neck, suggesting that he wasn’t in the business world, those men usually loosened their ties as soon as they left the building if not sooner. This suggested that this man had a job that often took him off-sight and he was used to always looking professional. Although it looked like the outfit usually had a jacket, yes those were definitely suit pants and dress shoes. So he was off for the day and most likely left his jacket in the car. Interesting… both shoulders had the indents of strap marks on them, but not down the front of his shirt, so they weren’t made from suspenders but perhaps a gun holster? Yes that was correct if the gun strapped around his calf was any indication. So a cop then. No, not just a cop, at least not a normal level one he was standing with too much posture for that. No judging by his hands he was the head detective.
“You’re the head detective of a police department. Probably the Santa Barbra one, judging by our current location. You were divorced about a year ago now. Something that was more her decision than yours originally, but now you see that it was for the best. You live alone and insist that you really like it but in fact you hate it and wish that someone would care enough to live with you. But not just an average roommate, someone who would understand you and the hours that you keep. But instead of going out to try to meet someone you just keep long hours at your job in order to not go home. You can’t have a pet, you’re gone too long to get a dog, and you’re allergic to cats. You are good at your job, very good, and you have a good partner, who you’re just starting to trust. But she commented about your wardrobe today and how it lacked color. So here you are, and you’re starting to get frustrated because you keep gravitating towards the white and gray shirts proving her right,” he finished with a little smirk.
All the man did was gape at him for almost a full minute.
“You okay there? Sorry I know I’m a lot to take it at once.”
“Who are you and how long have you been following me?” he demanded, and wow was he spot on about him being a head detective.
“Shawn Spencer. I haven’t been following you, in fact I haven’t ever seen you before in my life,” he smiled, “but I don’t mind what I’m seeing,” he winked.
“Funny. Seriously how long have you been following me?” he asked crossing his arms.
“Seriously,” Shawn said mocking him, “I haven’t been. Otherwise I would know your name, which I really don’t. Also try telling me that you wouldn’t have noticed me following you to learn that amount of information.”
The man paused and shook his head and muttered mostly to himself, “I would have noticed if someone was following me that closely. I know I have one stalker, who I haven’t caught, criminal, but I know when he’s there or has been recently…” Louder he said, “But then how do you know all that stuff? Do you know O’Hara?”
“Um no. Is that your partner? How about we go with I’m psychic?” he smiled widely. That line worked on most people, it either helped most people trust him or to roll their eyes, scoff and move on.
“There’s no such thing as psychics. Try again,” he looked grumpy that Shawn wasn’t answering him correctly so Shawn decided to just tell the man the truth. Maybe that will make him stop unfolding my shirts he thought idly.
“I have an eidetic memory and superb observational skills, thanks to my father and all of his training,” he muttered the last part.
“Training… wait is your father Henry Spencer, the detective?” he asked looking pretty impressed.
“Yeah that’s good old pops. But seriously can I help you with something or can you finish your shopping without causing too much of a mess?” he asked.
The man looked conflicted, as if he wanted to ask about a hundred questions and couldn’t settle on the right one. In the end he just sighed, “I can come back another time,” and started to walk away.
“Wait! I didn’t mean you had to leave. Please stay and finish shopping. What are a few more shirts to refold after all?” he asked grinning.
“No I’ll just give O’Hara the satisfaction of being right and have her come with next time. I just can’t figure it out.”
“Why? I can help you,” Shawn suggested quickly not wanting the man to leave without at least learning his name.
“Why would you do that?” he asked.
“Umm because it’s my job? Or because I agree that you clearly need more color in your life, or because I want to make your eyes really pop.”
The man blushed but came back over to the table.
“Okay, now I’m going to help you but let’s start over. Hi. I’m Shawn Spencer and I’m about to make your life awesome,” he grinned holding out his had to shake.
The man took it, “Carlton Lassider. I need color but nothing crazy like Hawaiian shirts,” he grimaced.
“Well Lassie you came to the right place. I would never dress anyone in a Hawaiian shirt, plus I think my father owns them all anyways,” he laughed. “So I can assume you wear suits about 97% of the time. What colors?”
“Blue, black, and gray mostly.”
“Mostly huh? Can I guess that you have a tan one that hasn’t seen the light of day for about a year? Good, that color would do nothing for you. But I need to see you in blues, greens, purples, and reds like immediately. But can you do me a solid and go get your suit jacket out of your car? We need to see the whole effect. Size large right? Of course I’m right, like those arms would fit in a medium…” he went around to tables and started to pick out shirts. Carlton stared after him for a minute before he rolled his eyes and went to get his suit jacket.
When he came back to the mens section Spencer had about twenty shirts in his arms. “No way do I need that many shirts,” he insisted noticing he had snuck a few yellows and oranges in the mix.
“Well duh, these are different cuts and shades and fabrics. Come on, to the dressing room,” he said leading Carlton by the elbow, who was feeling more helpless by the minute. This man seemed to just be inserting himself into Carlton’s life without any permission. But in a way he liked it. Plus the man wasn’t hard on the eyes, not that he had thought about men that way in years… or well… shut up.
They went through five shirts which Shawn declared were all wrong. “Even though the pinstripe is super subtle and white it doesn’t have the lengthening effect on you. Probably because you are already super tall and domineering as it is. You don’t need an illusion,” he stated dragging his eyes up Carlton’s body.
Carlton blushed then went back to his dressing room, he picked up a blue shirt to try on next. It wasn’t a navy like he would have preferred but it wasn’t a super bright Caribbean blue, like he saw in the pile. Buttoning it up he walked back out watching Spencer’s jaw drop.
“Lassie”, he breathed, “azure is your color. Here look at yourself,” he said pulling him over to a three-way mirror. Then he went back into the room and grabbed his tie and started to loop it over his neck. Carlton reached up to tie it but Shawn was already making short work of it. When it was straight Shawn dragged his hands down Carlton’s chest.
Carlton had to admit that he looked good. And he felt a little sexy with the way that Spencer was staring at him. Spencer had grabbed his jacket and was now helping him slip it on, almost drooling. They went through more shirts and mutually decided on all the ones that Shawn almost drooled over; two blue, one deep purple, a maroon, an emerald, and surprisingly a pale yellow.
Shawn was reluctant to see Lassie go, the man was damn sexy. But he knew the store was closing soon. Instead of sending the man up to the register he walked him up and rung him up himself. “So any regrets on looking like you’re from the land of the fun instead of the boring and stuffy?” he grinned.
“No, and definitely not about looking like I’m from the land of the sexy if your reactions are anything to go by,” he smirked, he could read the looks Spencer had been sending him all night. True to form the other man blushed.
“Well now you can go find someone to go home with,” he suggested trying to not look too put out.
“Or maybe the man who is holding my attention will get a clue and give me his number.”
“Yeah good luck with that,” Shawn sighed. Of course Lassie had someone he was interested in.
“Or maybe the man is so much of a bonehead I’ll have to give him mine,” he said handing over a card with his number on it. Shawn looked at it seemingly surprised.
“Me?” he squeaked. “I mean of course it’s me. Why wouldn’t it be? I’m hot stuff.”
“I take it back, give me back my number,” he said reaching out.
“Nope no take-backsies,” Shawn said quickly snatching it up. “I get off in an hour.”
Carlton just nodded and started heading to the door. At the last moment he glanced back and said, “It was a pleasure meeting you Spencer and I hope to one day feel more intimate to call you by your first name. Perhaps while you’re screaming mine,” he winked and sauntered out.
“Holy cripes,” Shawn breathed as he watched him go; that was one number he was sure he would keep for a long time.