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Okay. So. “Chad” seems to have quite a few male fans? I mean, his comment in the episode about not having any female fans… Anyways, male fans, and the character cheats on, what, two different chicks in the couple of episodes he’s in? Then he’s “murdered”, and tossed in the well in the carpet, but actually survives… it’s a soap opera, I don’t know what any of us were expecting. But the fun thing is that everyone in Santa Barbara seems to watch this stupid show (including Henry, Gus, Jules, Chief Vick, and McNabb) except for Shawn and Lassie.
~~
“What the hell is a slashfic?” Henry grumbled, then clicked.
Elsewhere, Shawn shuddered. “Gus, I know I’m not really psychic, but I think someone just walked over my goose!”
“You mean, a goose walked over your grave?”
“No, I’m pretty sure it’s my goose. Which, according to the strong psychic vibes I’m getting right now-“
“What psychic vibes, Shawn, you’re not even-“
“My STRONG PSYCHIC VIBES, Gus, are saying my goose, walked on or walking or whatever, is seriously baked.”
“You mean cooked.”
“That’s what I said.”
“It’s really not- Shawn. Shawn, slow down!”
~~
“Oh, Inspector Lassiter,” the disheveled delivery man sighed. “That was so brave, and heroic, how you led that mujer horrible away!”
“Please, Chad.” The strong, salt and pepper haired man, tugged the younger man closer to him, arm around his waist. “All in a day’s work.”
“Isn’t there… anything I can do to, ah, repay you?” Chad leaned in, hand on the inspector’s firm chest. The older man sighed, turning away slightly, yet seeming unwilling to fully remove himself from the young man.
“Chad, what happened today- saving your life and that other lady’s, arresting that woman, enjoying cheese, all of it- that was just my job. But this-“
“Si?” Chad slid his hand up to grasp the inspector’s tie. “What’s this, hm?”
“This,” the inspector grabbed Chad’s hand, stopping him in his tracks. “This is unprofessional. I can’t.” The older man tried to step away, but Chad stopped him, stepping closer and pulling the older man’s hand tighter around his waist.
“Oh, but,” Chad leaned in, laying one hand on the inspector’s cheek. “I think you can.” He started to close the distance between them. “I definitely think you can.”
“Chad-“ the inspector started, but Chad had already pressed his lips softly against
~~
“Hey Lassie, whatcha reading?” Lassiter slammed his computer shut before Spencer could fully seat himself on the corner of the desk. “Ooh, something juicy, was it? Lemme guess-“ Spencer started enthusiastically, but broke off when Lassiter turned a harsh glare on him, one generally reserved for intimidating petty criminals. Spencer started scrambling off the desk, rushing through increasingly ridiculous guesses as Lassiter stood, shoving his chair back.
“Uh, gun shows! Cold case files, your weekend plans maybe? Roller blading? Top cop shows of the seventies- ChiPs is the obvious choice, of course, but you can’t go wrong with the Rockford Files, bee-tee-dubs- oh come on Lassiepants, you gotta give me something to work with here! Pineapple growing seasons-“ Shawn was darting glances between Lassiter’s increasing annoyance, and the floor he was getting dangerously close to tumbling off the desk towards as he edged away.
“For crying out loud, Spencer, if you absolutely must know, I was looking at… case files. Very confidential. Nothing you need to be poking your nose into.” Lassiter held still as Spencer froze, squinting at him. Like he was trying to memorize him. He blinked when the so-called psychic’s gaze lingered over his surely reddening cheeks, and it was like flipping a switch. All the energy returned, like color flooding into a black and white picture, as Spencer hopped off the desk and shrugged.
“Alright, alright, I’ll leave you to your oh so very confidential files! They must be really important, for you to have been peering over them so intensely, so I’ll just leave you to it, eh Lassie?”
“… You mean ‘poring’?”
“I’ve heard it both ways. Later, Lassifrass!” Spencer flounced away to join Guster in bothering O’Hara at her desk, leaving Lassiter frozen, leaning over his desk, and the offending computer.
As head detective of the SBPD, Carlton Lassiter held no stock in psychic mumbo jumbo. Bunch of nonsense, obviously. But Shawn Spencer… well, his closing rate spoke for itself. There had to be some trick to it, of course, he had to be lying. But right then, burning with the shame of his extracurricular reading and reeling from the sudden intensity of Spencer’s full attention being turned on him, even if only momentarily…
Suddenly Detective Carlton Lassiter, of the SBPD, found himself seriously questioning how impossible mind reading actually was. How much Spencer could have gleaned from that short interaction. And what he would do with what he learned.
~~
“Yeah, baby, you can deliver my package,” Chad groaned.
“Should I, hah, handle with care?” Carlton panted.
“Hell no, handsome, I like it rough!” Chad shoved him down into the
~~
“Hey, Juliet.” Juliet looked up to see Gus striding towards her desk. Behind him, it looked like Shawn had stopped off to bug Carlton. She shook her head fondly, and, before Gus stopped at her desk, slyly switched to another, more professional looking tab.
“Hi, Gus, what are you two doing back so soon?” Juliet turned to face him, swiveling her chair at an angle to her desk and lacing her fingers together in a casual pose.
“Well, Shawn-“ Gus looked around for his suddenly missing partner, rolling his eyes when he spotted him halfway through falling off Lassiter’s desk. “To be honest, I’m not sure why he’s dragged us back here today. I figure he’s looking to give out autographs for any Explosión Gigantesca de Romanc fans down here. He’s already signed my briefcase, my coffee mug, and when I didn’t get it away from him fast enough, my shirt!” Here he held up his sleeve, where there was half a scrawled signature, then a long line trailing away, apparently from the moment Gus had noticed Shawn’s pen.
Juliet covered her mouth before her laugh became too obvious.
~~
“Oh, mi amor!” Chad gasped, clutching at the handsome detective, soaking his shirt through, though neither man noticed. “Gracias, muchos gracias, for pulling me out of that well! You have saved me yet again!”
“My darling, it was the least I could do, for my secret lover of these past few years! I trust that the others-“
“Mi corazón, they know nothing of us, or our relationship, and they surely think me dead by now!” Chad gripped the older man’s shirt tightly. The inspector held the younger man’s face in his hands, icy blue orbs filling with warm tears.
“Then we are free! Come, my light, my love, my life, we must fly! Escape from this wretched place, to live out our lives together, at last!” The detective, overcome with emotion, held Chad’s face in his strong hands, and kissed him through their tears.
“Ay, luz de mi vida,” Chad whimpered. “Mi tesoro, te amo-“
“I love you too, so much-“ The two men couldn’t possibly hold each other closer, but it didn’t stop them from trying.
“Who knew,” Chad whispered into the detectives stubbled neck. “That we two should finally be brought here by the madness of our destinies, after all this time. I shudder to think what might have been, had we never met that fateful day, when I delivered that package of aged cheese to your door.”
“No, my dear, don’t speak of such things.” The detective pulled Chad back up to face him, looking into his shining orbs as Chad clutched at his muscled forearms. “This is our life, no other destiny could possibly befall us now. We are together, and so we shall remain. That is all that fate may dictate. All that I will allow it to dictate.” He finished his firm speech, and Chad sobbed again, collapsing into the older man’s somewhat damp chest.
“Mi amado! Mi alma!” Chad shivered fiercely, wrapped in the detective’s arms, but resiliently leaned up for another kiss.
“My love, I want nothing more than your lips on mine again, but we must leave this place. I have clothing at my place for you to change out into, so that, after all we’ve been through, you don’t catch your death of cold. Then, we shall
~~
Chief Vick sat back from her computer. She stared at the screen for a moment, then leaned forward to close the tab. She hesitated. Then cleared the past fifteen minutes from her browser history. Shutting off her computer, the chief sat back again, sinking into her chair. A pause.
“What the fuck was that.”