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Shawn had never visited her before.
He was under no obligation to. In fact, everyone in his life told him not to.
So he didn't tell anyone. He simply took off on the anniversary, and no one questioned it when he wasn't around that day. The whole series of events had targeted Shawn in the first place, and anyone would be a little thrown off balance on the anniversary of something as traumatic as almost watching your mom get blown up.
He was a few years too late to really play into that excuse. And really, if anything, he should take off on the anniversary of him and Gus nearly being killed by Yin, because that was a lot more recent.
But they weren't there yet, anyway, and Yang wasn't nearly as involved in that part, so it didn't make any sense. He figured it would make her happy if he visited her on the anniversary, anyway.
He didn't even know what possessed him to do it. He had no reason to want to make her happy, or to go and see her ever again. But something told him he should, and while he didn't believe in the supernatural or the metaphysical, he'd spent long enough as a detective to know when to follow a hunch.
So that was how he found himself here, in this blank, white room. Colors apparently excited her too much.
He didn't want to think about what seeing him would do to her. But he'd have to face it either way.
“Shawn.” She said his name like a breath, and he had to actively relax his muscles, because they wanted to stiffen. “You came to see me. I knew you would. Where's Gus? Was he too scared? I know he's a big scaredy cat.”
“Yeah. Well, you know Gus.” His smile wasn't quite as confident as he wished it was, because she did know Gus, and he hated that.
Why was he here again?
“How's that detective of yours?”
Shawn couldn't help his gaze hardening a bit. “She's doing really well, ac-”
“No, not her, silly!” Yang cut him off. “I mean that big ol' hunk of emotional constipation. Your Lassie.” Shawn's heart rate picked up just a hair. “All that armor he wears from day to day… the competence, the masculinity, the anger… but what's it really protecting him from? In the end, all of that won't mean a thing.”
The last time he'd received a cryptic clue like this from Yang, it had been when there was danger. Big danger. Every time he'd spoken to her before, Yin had been involved. He was dead now, of course, and Yang couldn't escape the hospital. But still, the way she spoke about Lassiter made him incredibly uneasy.
“What do you mean?”
Yang tilted her head, her smile only growing. “Come on, Shawny. I know your brain is bigger than that.” She tapped her own head with her finger. “Your loyal Lassie charges into every situation head first, except for the ones that really matter. But if he keeps on doing that, he'll lose his chance to ever sit in that corner booth.” She shook her head, even as her words sent shivers down Shawn's spine.
He didn't know what Yang meant. He couldn't imagine what situation she was somehow privy to. But he did know that she only ever talked about things with purpose. So he could only assume one thing:
Carlton Lassiter was in danger.
Shawn knew, logically, that what he was about to do was not legal, or smart, but when he looked at the facts, he knew that he had to. Right now, Lassie had a case that was dangerous and slightly personal. His ex-sister-in-law was involved, and Shawn knew it was exactly the sort of case he'd charge head first into, and think about the consequences later.
The timing was perfect. Which meant Yang's words should be heeded.
Which meant Shawn was about to do something drastic and stupid.
He took out his phone and called. After two rings, Lassiter picked up. “Lassiter.”
“Lassie, listen.” He kept his voice intentionally low, trying to sound more serious than normal. It was a little easier, because he was being more serious than normal. “I have something really important. I can't discuss it over the phone. But it's about the case. We need to act fast. I'm gonna grab you at McTaggart's in ten minutes.”
“First of all, no. Second of all, how the hell did-”
“No time, Lassie. This is really serious. I need you to trust me.” He paused. “You also go there for lunch every Tuesday.”
“Whatever, Spencer. This better be damn good.” Lassiter hung up the phone, and Shawn sighed. Step 1 was complete.
Step 2 felt a little ickier, but he knew Gus would ultimately understand when he realized it was all for Lassie's safety.
He grabbed the keys to the Blueberry and got going.
“Spencer? Where the hell is Guster? Why do you have his car? So help me god, if you stole-”
“Gus knows I have it, Lassie. No time, get in.” Shawn reached across and shoved the passenger door open. When Lassiter got in the car, Shawn immediately began speeding off. He knew he'd start interrogating him right away, so he had to get out of the city quickly.
“Spencer, what the hell is this about?” Lassiter snapped, holding onto the handle above him, eyes wide. “I am an officer of the law, and don't think being a useful consultant exempts you from getting arrested. Speeding is the least of what I could charge you with-”
“Aw, Lassie, you think I'm useful? I'm flattered.” He flashed a smile, but it betrayed his nerves.
“Of course you are. The department wouldn't keep using you if you weren't useful.” Lassiter muttered, crossing his arms. “You'd be more useful to me if you told me what's going on here. It better be about the case.”
“It is.” Shawn said, and it technically wasn't a lie. Technically. Barely.
“So then what the hell is it, Spencer?” Lassiter's voice was low, full of barely restrained anger, and his fingers drummed on his leg.
Shawn pursed his lips. If he gave away the gambit now, Lassie would find a way to get out and get back on the case, and Yang's warning would be meaningless. He had to wait until they were further. Safe.
“I can't tell you yet.” He finally said, keeping his eyes firmly fixed on the road.
“Can't tell me ye- this is my case! Do you have any idea how hard it was to convince Victoria I could prove her sister innocent? To get even an ounce of trust from her on this?”
Shawn pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing. “I know, Lassie; trust me, I know how important this case is to you, but I need you to trust me on this!”
“If you want some trust, then you need to tell me what's going on, or so help me I will roll out of this vehicle.” Lassiter threatened, but Shawn knew he was bluffing. At the speeds he was going, it could easily harm him enough to put him in the hospital, which he wouldn't risk if he wanted to work the case.
“Oh, please, Lassie, no you won't.” Shawn rolled his eyes. For all his speeding, he was driving safely, his eyes constantly scanning the road. He never dodged and weaved like this on the road, but his dad did teach him how to.
“I'll call Chief Vick and tell her I've been kidnapped by a deranged psycho.” He went to reach into his pocket, but Shawn held up his cell phone in his left hand.
“No you won't.”
“Spencer, what the hell!” Lassiter shouted, immediately lunging for his phone, which Shawn quickly shoved under his own butt on the seat.
“This is for your own good, Lassie!” He insisted, barely managing not to swerve on the road when Lassiter lunged at him. He glanced over when he backed off, and saw anger written in the lines of Lassiter's face, but… something a little more instinctual flashed in his eyes for just a moment, before he schooled it away – fear.
Shawn's stomach twisted. Maybe he was being a little too intense about all of this. But he was almost there.
“Spencer.” Lassiter started through gritted teeth, his voice deceptively low. “What do you know that you're not telling me?”
“Well, you see, Lassie, it's a little hard to explain without making you think I'm a crazy person-”
“Too late.”
“-but you're in danger, okay?” Shawn got off at the exit and tried to go at a more reasonable speed.
“God, please.” Lassiter sneered. “I can take care of myself! Being in danger is a part of the job, Spencer, you know that!”
“But it's different!”
“How?”
“I don't know!” Shawn exclaimed, because he honestly didn't. That was what had him so scared in the first place.
After a few more minutes of tense silence, Shawn pulled off the road.
“Spencer.” Lassiter's voice pretended to be calmer than it was. “How the hell do you know where this is, and for god's sake, why are you taking me there?”
“Please, Lassie, I know where safe houses are. My dad is-” He paused. “Well, he's my dad, and I think that's enough said.” He parked and turned off the car.
The silence that followed was deafening, and Shawn was tempted in every way to fill it, but nothing felt adequate. There was nothing that would make it any less unpleasant than it was now. He glanced over, and saw Lassiter staring at the safe house door ahead, glare fixed on it like he could melt a hole through the door if he tried hard enough.
“The only reason I am going inside with you is because I've worked with you long enough to know you can't be this stupid.” Lassiter said, a slight tremor of rage in his voice.
Shawn got out of the car, not forgetting to grab Lassiter's phone from the seat.
“Thank you.” He muttered, eyebrows knitted together. He locked the car when Lassiter got out. They both walked up to the safe house, which Shawn carefully unlocked.
“Now how the hell did you get that key?”
“You'd be amazed what a psychic connection to someone's dead aunt will get you.” Shawn muttered, almost wryly, as he opened the door and let Lassiter inside.
Immediately, Shawn made his way to the kitchen. He had to do something with his hands, and making tea or something was the best way he could think to do it.
For the next ten minutes, the only sound Shawn heard was the occasional huff or scoff from Lassiter, and his foot tapping on the floor. The teapot made a low hissing sound on the old stove. Shawn hated seeing Lassiter like this, but… it was necessary. Yang didn't say anything for no reason.
Finally, when Shawn handed him a cup of tea, Lassiter spoke again. “Alright, Spencer. I'm safe. Now could you please tell me what the hell is going on, and why you decided to kidnap me? I don't need this damn safe house, and frankly, it's a little offensive that you even felt the need to bring me here.”
“I thought Jules could handle herself. But she got herself kidnapped. Twice. And- and hell, you know I'm competent, if a bit of a cocky bastard sometimes, but I've been kidnapped, and nearly killed before. Jules almost died, I almost died, my mom has-”
Shawn only realized just how obvious he was being when Lassiter cut him off, as realization dawned on his face.
“This is about Yang?”
And dammit, he said it so plainly, Shawn knew his face gave him away before he had a chance to stop it.
“You talked to her, didn't you? That's the only damn thing that could have you this worked up, because I know you’re tougher than letting the anniversary make you act this stupid.” Lassiter set down his mug and stood up again.
He remembered the anniversary of Shawn's first Yang case?
“Yin is dead. O'Hara shot him herself. Yang is stuck in a padded room, she couldn't have any intel on our current case. You know that.” Lassiter reasoned. And logically, Shawn knew he had to be right, but…
“So what did she mean, then?” Shawn threw up his arms. “Because she was talking about you, Lassie. Saying you were in danger.”
“Hell if I know, Spencer. What did she say?”
It occurred to Shawn now that it probably would've been smarter to just tell Lassiter that in the first place, but fear made people do rash things.
Shawn sighed, taking a sip of his tea. It was warm and citrus-y. “She said… she said your competence and the ‘armor’ you wear every day wouldn't matter in the end. That you'd never get the chance-”
He was cut off by his phone ringing. Gus. Great. So he'd noticed his car was missing.
Shawn picked up. “Gus! Buddy!”
“Don't ‘’buddy’ me, Shawn! You stole my car!” Gus yelled through the phone. “That's a company car! If you got a scratch on it-”
“Gus, please, you know I drive like an angel.” Shawn spoke over Gus's protests. “I had to take it so I could drive Lassie somewhere against his will to protect him from an unknown threat. I'll bring the Blueberry back spotless.”
“You kidnapped Lassiter?” Gus snapped incredulously. He laughed sarcastically. “Wow. I think we might actually be dead. This is it. Close up Psych now, because you're getting us both sent to jail.”
“We're fine, don't worry about it!” Shawn dismissed easily. “Lassie was fine with being kidnapped, right?”
“No, but I tolerated it at best.” Lassiter answered, and Shawn beamed at his response.
“Whatever, Shawn. I need my car back, so could you unkidnap him please?”
“I'll talk to him about it.” Shawn agreed, then hung up the phone.
For a moment, there was silence again in the house. Shawn took another sip of tea, needing the warmth to ground him. After a minute, Lassiter sighed, some of the tension leaving his shoulders.
“Look, Spencer. I know Yang was helpful to us before. Because of her, we caught Yin. I get that.” Lassiter stepped closer to him. “But she can't help anymore. She's locked away with no access. Whatever she said was tailored to get under your skin, and nothing more.” When Shawn stayed silent, Lassiter kept prodding. “She said I'd never get a chance to…? What? Live?”
Shawn sighed again, looking away. “She said you'd never get the chance to ‘sit in that corner booth’.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean? You went through all this over a booth?” Lassiter gestured around them.
Shawn shook his head, scrunching his eyes shut for a moment, before opening them again. “No, no. It was in reference to something else she'd said to me, before. 'That is what people really want – to feel complete. That, and a corner booth.’”
Lassiter's eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “She really is a wackadoo.” He muttered. “So, what, the corner booth is some- some metaphor for happiness?”
“Yeah, I guess it is.” Shawn muttered, looking down.
“So you dragged me out to a secure house, against my will, during an important case, because Yang said I'd be miserable if I stayed married to my job? And you took that to mean I'd get killed?”
“You didn't hear the way she said it, Lassie, it was ominous! And I couldn't live with myself if something happened and you didn't-”
“I can handle myself! You know that! Hell, you know I'd have half a mind to listen to you if you just outright told me to be more careful than usual!” Lassiter threw his hands up. “You didn't have to do all this, Spencer! And Yang was wrong, anyway! I'm not miserable! If I really wanted the mushy ‘normal’ happiness shit, I would've stepped back from my career for Victoria.”
“You think I don't know that? I know you're happy how you are! A little lonely, yeah, probably a lot, but the job is your passion, and yeah, you're pretty fucking amazing at it, actually! And I know I don't give enough credit where it's due, but we kinda have this ‘sexy adversary’ thing going on that I don't wanna kill, but that's not important!” Shawn rambled on, getting faster as he did, “I thought you were in danger, okay? And- and you deserve the corner booth, you know? With someone who gets it, who can be with a cop because they know what it means for them – and yeah, I didn't want you to die and miss out on it, because there are plenty of people out there married to cops who are happy, and just because Victoria couldn't make it work doesn't mean someone can't, and-”
“Spencer, why do you care so-”
“And hey, I get it, you know? My dad was a cop, and my mom only stayed with him as long as she did for my sake! But I know what it means to be with a cop! I know what kind of long hours it is, how much strain it can put, but-”
“Spencer.” This time, Lassiter's voice was firm, cutting straight through the ramblings. Where had that come from? He hadn't meant to say all that.
Shawn pressed his lips together and stared right at him. His heart was hammering in his chest as he waited on bated breath for Lassiter to continue.
“Spencer, are you… are you trying to explain why you would be a good fit for me?”
The question knocked the breath out of Shawn's lungs like a punch to the chest. For once, for just a moment, he was speechless, before he regained his senses and tried for a charming smile, but it was lopsided. “Do you realize how ridiculous that sounds? I mean, why would I-”
“Spencer.” Lassiter cut him off again with a firm but oddly open look. “Yes, or no?”
Shawn suddenly found he couldn't meet Lassiter's gaze. “Okay, so it might have devolved into that, but-”
He didn't get to finish his sentence, because in an instant, Lassiter closed the distance between them in two steps – one and a half, really, given his stride – and grabbed Shawn's face, tilting his head up.
Shawn was very suddenly but pleasantly shocked when he felt Lassiter's lips meet his. He was glad that he'd been using cinnamon toothpaste since he'd developed feelings for Lassiter, because man did he want to enjoy this to the fullest. He kissed back with fervor, his hands quickly finding Lassiter's shoulders as their lips found a rhythm together.
When they pulled away for air, they were both panting, faces flushed.
“Spencer.” Lassiter started, and Shawn shook his head.
“I think after that, you can call me Shawn.” He chuckled, his eyes drinking in every detail of Lassiter's face.
“Shawn,” Lassiter corrected.
“Yes, Lassie?”
“I want to go home. I want to go solve my damn case.” Lassiter started, looking him in the eyes. “And then I want to see you at my place when I'm done.”
Shawn couldn't help but grin at that. “That sounds like a plan. I'll wait up for you.”
“I might get home late. Really late.” Lassiter warned.
“That's fine. Like I said,” Shawn played with Lassiter's tie. “I know what I'm getting into, Head Detective.”