Work Text:
Shawn has broken into Lassie`s house yet again, but this time, he was on a mission.
Well, a mission more important than stealing food of the peanut butter variety from the detective, anyway.
Lassiter called in sick for work this morning, which was unheard of. After a distressed call from Juliet, who needed to make sure her partner a) wasn`t held at a gunpoint and giving her messages in code , or b) wasn`t replaced by aliens, Shawn took it upon himself to check up on their never-missing-work-for-a-single-day coworker.
As soon as Shawn acquired all the necessary goods and a pineapple smoothie for the road, he hopped on his bike and arrived at la casa de Lassie in a matter of minutes.
After disabling the alarm (the code was Clint Eastwood`s birthday) and using his own copy of the key (obtained through totally legal means), Shawn cautiously stepped inside.
A quick look into the living room showed no signs of sentient life, same as the kitchen (there was, however, a sign of delicious, glorious, peanut-y and butter-y life, but Shawn exhibited a miracle of self-restraint and managed to ignore its calls. For now.). He continued to look for Lassie and carefully went upstairs, aware that a gun could be pointed in his face at any second. Partially his non-existent psychic abilities, partially common sense made Shawn check the bedroom first, and what do you know, that`s exactly where the head detective currently resided.
Carlton looked... adorable, actually.
He was only partially on the floor, both legs hanging from the bed, an arm sticking out, most of the blanket draped down, too. He used his left arm as a pillow (the actual pillow was nowhere in sight) and, unfortunately, as a drool collector. There was an empty glass on the bedside table and a pill tablet, so Shawn concluded that Lassie at least took something for whatever he came down with. The detective was asleep, breathing heavy, face flushed, hair rumpled, still in his pajama pants. Admittedly, he had his work shirt on (if one sleeve counts) and even a piece of cloth resembling a tie hanging loose from his neck.
Shawn took an extra moment to commit the scene to his memory. Normally the detective wouldn't let anyone in the house, especially Spencer and especially in his bedroom, no matter how deep into the slumber he was, so there was definitely something afoot.
Shawn moved closer to the bed, setting down the bag he brought with himself.
He cleared his throat.
No reaction.
He coughed.
No reaction.
He coughed louder.
Lassiter stirred.
On one hand, Shawn knew from experience with Gus that the most fun way to wake someone up was a classic “drop a bucket of cold water on their head”, but on the other hand… Lassiter in a vulnerable state was highly unusual to deal with, and Shawn didn`t want to make any wrong moves.
He stepped even closer to the bed. Despite the need to wake the detective up, Shawn didn`t want to disturb the man. Not often such a sight could be seen. He quietly tried, "Lassie? Rise and shine?"
Again, the man didn't react.
Shawn reached out to gently shake him by the shoulders.
"Lassie? Wake up, buddy. The cavalry is here to check up on you."
Carlton finally, painstakingly slowly blinked his eyes open. He squinted, clearly disoriented, but after a few moments his gaze focused on the sound source and he frowned, looking at Shawn.
“Spencer? The hell you doing here?" He mumbled without the usual heat, voice deep from sleep.
Shawn grinned, glad to get at least some reaction.
"Why, I`m your personal nurse for today! I was in a hurry so I don't have the sexy outfit with me, but if you do, I am more than willing to try it on."
Lassiter grouched, becoming aware that half his limbs were on the floor. He tried to situate himself better, noticed his hand was covered in drool, made a face, wiped the hand on the sheet. Then Lassiter tried to untangle himself from the sheet and the blanket. Then, remembering he was supposed to maintain his dignity, Carlton stopped and looked up at Shawn, who was watching him with unconcealed amusement.
"Don't need a nurse. I'm fine," Lassie said unconvincingly.
"In the looks department? Absolutely, one of the finest men I've ever seen, but in the health department? Calling in sick is usually a sign that something is not fine.”
Lassiter huffed. "I didn't call in sick, I just told the chief I'll be late." Carlton made another attempt at separating his limbs from the bedsheets. He seemed to be struggling quite a lot. "At least I think that's what I said," he added under his breath.
At this point, Lassiter decided that bed attire was the new black and tried to stand up as is, but got even more tangled, swayed and landed on a bed with a hushed "thump".
At least now he had all his limbs in one place.
"Great moves you got there, Lassie. Just like Jagger.”
The detective sent him a death glare. The effect was a bit diminished by the fact that he was all bundled up in the bedsheets. Shawn grew immune to the glare regardless, though.
“Well, since you`re not going anywhere, here's some quick sickness aid, Spencer's special, made with love,” he said, grabbing his bag again. "Nor Jules nor the spirits told me what you have, exactly, so I brought everything.” Shawn reached into his bag and produced… a rock.
“Spencer. That is a rock.”
“Ah, but not just any rock, Lassie, it is a crystal! It`s a rose quartz, and it has magical healing powers! Approved by the spirits and all!”
“Spencer, rose quartz is pink. It's in the name. And this one is blue.”
Shawn looked at the rock. It was indeed blue. Huh.
“Huh. Would you look at that.” After a moment of staring at the rock Shawn shrugged and tossed it aside, then reached into the bag again. “Okay, you`re gonna love this one. I brought essential oils!”
A pillow was thrown in Shawn`s direction. Where did that thing come from?
“Fine, okay! Gee, the doctors must love you.”
“Do you have anything useful in there or are you gonna pull a rabbit next?”
“You wound me, Lassie, of course I do! You want some medication?” Shawn pulled a tiny package from the bag. “I have, drumroll, please, activated charcoal! A classic "fix-it" drug for all things poisonous, upset stomachs and hangovers. Do you think you have any of those?"
Lassiter stared at him, unimpressed and unamused. “I`m not sick, Spencer, and I`m certainly not hungover,” he sputtered, slightly slurring his words. All the pillow-throwing and the grumpiness must have worn him out. Or maybe whatever he took was kicking in.
"As long as you're sure.” Shawn continued to rummage through the bag, frowning occasionally and making faces, until finally, he found what he was looking for. “A-ha! Might not be as impressive as a rabbit, but here comes the one, the only Mr Snuggles! Think fast!"
Sadly, in his current state Lassie could not “think fast”, so he sat still while a plush grey bear landed right on his head and bounced into his lap.
That little incident made Lassie`s face scrunch up in anger and he grabbed Mr Snuggles, no doubt with an intent to throw it right back in fake psychic`s face, but as soon as his fingers touched the plushie, his face changed. The bear was soft. Like, really soft. Lassiter`s hands wrapped around it and he brought it closer to himself, absently stroking it while glaring at Shawn with an unmistakable “I`ll kill you” expression.
Shawn stifled an “awwww” and continued, undeterred. "Mr Snuggles is a magical bear that can turn any sickness away. Well, except bubonic plague. And regular plague. And- you know what, his powers are limited. Sure you don`t want to try the oils?”
Lassie didn`t seem to catch onto Shawn`s words, too busy burying his face in the softness of the plush bear. Ooookie-dokie then. Definitely sick.
“Soooo… while you`re all nice and cozy, how about a temperature check?” Shawn took the thermometer out of the bag and cautiously made a few steps towards potentially-losing-his-sanity Lassiter.
When Shawn tried to reach for Lassie`s mouth, though, the man seemed to briefly come to his senses once more. Lassiter swatted Shawn`s hand, suddenly sat up and let Mr Snuggles drop down.
“Get that thing away from me! I`m not sick. I`m going to work.” Carlton said, remaining motionless. His eyes became glossy, his face reddened even more, Shawn noted a few sweat drops running down from his temple and he could feel the heat radiating from Lassiter.
"Yeah, I don't think that's gonna happen today."
Lassiter`s voice cracked, "I need to go to work.” His gaze became distant, he still didn`t move and just looked so distressed.
Shawn tried his best soothing voice, “I don`t think it`s a good idea for you to show up at work like this. And I`m an expert in bad ideas, ask anyone.”
“I need to work,” Carlton insisted, looking more and more panicked. He frantically ran a hand through his hair, making his damp from sweat hair even more of a mess.
“Hey, hey, I`m sure whatever big arrest you had planned, Jules can handle it, yeah? And tomorrow we can go to work together and ask her how it went, what do you say, bud?”
“Y`u dont need to work,” Lassiter mumbled, tugging the blanket closer to himself, “ev`ryone already likes you.”
Shawn paused. That was… sweet? “Despite what the rumours are saying, many people stop liking me when I can`t pay them for food. Or for a motel room. Or clothes. Or-”
“`ts not about the moneeeyy,” Carlton groaned. “im a jerk,” he stated with regret, his head tipping down.
Shawn paused again, trying to find the connection between the two statements and failing. “Well, everyone is a jerk sometimes. Gus berates me nine days a week! And there are only eight days of the week!” He tried, looking at Lassiter expectantly.
"I'm a jerk most of the time,” Lassiter murmured, sagging deeper into the bed. “Need to do s`mthing us`ful. Work`s all I have.”
Oh.
Shawn gently sat down on the bed. Lassie didn`t react, staring off into the far corner of the bedroom. Shawn softly touched his shoulder, and when Carlton didn`t protest to that either, Shawn started lightly rubbing his arm.
“Look, Lass… you don`t need to prove your worth, not to anyone and certainly not by working yourself to death.”
Lassie curled in on himself. He didn't try to shake Shawn`s hand, though.
“I know I might not be your… preferred company, but I care about you. And I`d still care even if you weren`t solving crimes and putting criminals in jail. And Jules is worried about you not because she needs your excellent expertise, although I'm sure that, too, but because she cares about you. And hey, Mr Snuggles? Belongs to Gus! Gus volunteered to share his magical plush bear with you as soon as he heard you were unwell! Well, almost volunteered. He might have needed a little nudge in the right direction, but my point is, he gave up the bear! Eventually. And my even bigger point is, we all care about you, Lassie. We`re a team!”
Shawn looked at Carlton, but the man was still unresponsive. His eyes seemed a bit clearer, though. Shawn let out a little sigh and squeezed Lassie`s shoulder one last time before getting up.
“You`re right, enough with the touchy-feely stuff. I`ll go make herbal tea and then we`ll see what that “paracetamol” thing is all about.”
Shawn was almost out of the door when he heard a quiet “Y`u`r wrong” from Lassiter.
Shawn turned around, keeping quiet for once, waiting for Lassie to elaborate.
“ `bout company. I don`t… mind you here,” Carlton murmured, avoiding looking at Shawn.
Shawn smiled at him. “Then here I shall stay.”