Psych: Thanksgiving Daze
Summary: Sequel to Halloween Knights. Part 2 in Lassie's Holi-daze series. Lassiter and Angeline survived Halloween and are staying at Henry's for safety. With Thanksgiving quickly approaching, will Daemon and company strike again? Lassie/OFC
AN: The title of this chapter is "Closing Time" by Semisonic. "Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end."
I promised you a continuation, didn't I? Well, here is part 2 in the four part Lassie's Holi-daze series. Comes after Halloween Knights. You need to read that first.
Chapter 1: Closing Time
They couldn't go home, but they couldn't stay here.
It was like a bad song title, but the words echoed in Carlton's mind. His home was a crime scene, both literally and figuratively. There was no way he was dragging Angeline back there. But this hovel they called a safe-house wasn't going to cut it. For one, the bed was too small for both of them.
A twinge of doubt crept into his mind as Angeline breathed gently across his bare shoulder. Had he been lured in once again by her lies? Or was she telling the truth now? Why was it so hard for him to tell? He was usually so good at reading suspects.
Lassiter shifted slightly, trying to get comfortable in a bed that was two feet too short for his lanky form. Angeline's hand covered the gauze-wrapped wound on his stomach, hovering protectively over it. She hadn't been able to stop crying when she saw it. He had held her silently until she had fallen asleep, still sniffling and apologizing quietly.
Where would they go? It wasn't like he or she were bursting with friends, so the list was startlingly short. Buzz and his wife wouldn't deny them a place on the couch, but he couldn't stomach the thought of waking up to the giant's goofy smile. Besides, a couch is even worse than a twin bed. Spencer and Guster were both out. No telling what off-the-wall place Spencer called home and Guster was strangely OCD.
The Chief had an extra bedroom, but Iris was in her terrible twos, and he had no desire to subject himself to that torture. That left only one place. Spencer Senior's.
Lassiter moaned lightly at the thought of being subjected to one of the endless lectures the man was so famous for, but he did have a house on the beach, which Angeline would love. With Angeline there as a buffer of sorts, maybe he wouldn't have the urge to strangle the man quite as quickly. Plus, as an ex-police officer, Henry was more than able to protect himself, so Lassiter didn't have to feel guilty about dragging a civilian into potentially hazardous duty.
-000-
"I hope you'll fit," Henry said, eying the full-sized bed dubiously, "I guess it's better than Shawn's twin at least."
Lassiter dropped the bag he was carrying on the floor of the guest room with a small sigh.
"Thanks Henry. It's much better than the shack they had us holed up in."
"No problem," Henry said with a shrug, "At least you asked. Shawn usually just drops in and expects me to make room."
"I remember you," Angeline said softly, startling them both. She'd been so quiet that they'd forgotten she was there.
"What?" Lassiter asked, looking between Henry and her in confusion. Henry just smiled cryptically.
"You were in the hospital," Angeline said hesitantly.
"You were?" Lassiter asked, turning towards Henry.
He nodded, chuckling lightly.
"Yep. Don't know how you remember though. You were out like a light," Henry said.
Angeline frowned.
"I remember your voice. You were telling me something…"
Henry waved his hand dismissively.
"Nothing important. Now, I'll let you kids settle in while I get dinner on. Fish don't clean themselves!"
As Henry left, Lassiter investigated the room; noting the lock on the window- solid- and the possible hiding places for the plethora of guns he'd brought along.
Angeline unpacked her small bag, tucking the clothes into the bottom drawer of the dresser. Lassiter hung up his work clothes, smoothing out the wrinkles from transport.
When he turned around Angeline was sitting on the bed, staring out the window. She smiled widely, her eyes tracking the seagulls' erratic flight over the waves.
"The beach," she sighed, "It's just as beautiful as I pictured."
Lassiter raised an eyebrow as he tucked away his socks.
"You've never been to the beach?"
"Maybe," Angeline said slowly, her brow furrowing, "When I was little, I think."
"Hmph," Lassiter acknowledged with a grunt, "I'll be right back."
He disappeared out the door, but Angeline didn't turn to look, still mesmerized by the scenery.
He returned, his steps clomping loudly.
"Well, let's go!" he announced.
Angeline turned, puzzled. They just got here. Where were they going now? She couldn't stifle the explosive giggle at the sight that greeted her.
Carlton stood there, frowning at her. A pair of cut-off jeans brushed his knees, revealing the fuzzy expanse of his calves. A brightly-colored Hawaiian shirt clashed with his scowl, orange flowers twisting across his chest. A pair of too-large flip-flops graced his narrow feet.
"I had to borrow some beach clothes from Henry. Now, quit laughing. Are you coming or not?"
Angeline stopped laughing and looked up at him, a mix of excitement and fear on her face.
"To the beach? I… We can go outside?"
"Of course," Carlton said, confused, "We've been outside before. What's the big deal?"
Angeline shook her head and stood, bouncing on her toes.
"No we haven't! We've been to the car and the hospital and to houses, but never outside! Is what I'm wearing okay for the beach?" She looked down, brushing at her sundress.
"It is fine," Lassiter mumbled, running through their time together mentally and realizing what she'd said was true. He'd never taken her outside. He'd never taken her anywhere, really. Ever since he'd 'freed' her, she's been just as imprisoned as ever. The swamp of guilt nearly took his breath away.
"Carlton?" she said softly, taking his hand.
He looked down at her worried frown.
"Did I say something wrong? Do you not want to go anymore?"
"No," he said, shaking his head. He tightened his grip on her hand as her face fell, "You didn't do anything wrong. Let's go."
She smiled tentatively up at him, excitement creeping its way back onto her face.
They went downstairs, her hand still clutching his, and told Henry they'd be back in a little while.
With a grunt of acknowledgement, Henry went back to his intense study of Paula Dean's latest fish fry technique: heavy on the butter.
They stepped out onto the back porch, the wind bringing with it the heavy scent of salt and sun.
She stopped at the edge of the deck, looking down at the well-worn path to the sea.
"I'm afraid," she said, her words almost lost in the wind.
His breath caught in his chest. Something so simple, something he took for granted, terrified her. He leaned down, looking into her eyes.
"I'm here," he said, "Nothing will hurt you."
She looked at him for long moments before her hand tightened around his and she nodded.
"Let's go," she said, taking the first step.
They made their way down to the beach. She pointed out every plant and bush, asking him what they were called.
Carlton did his best to tell her, digging up old beach facts he'd long forgotten. He'd just finished explaining about the loss of sea grass and its effects on beach erosion when they mounted the hill and saw the ocean spread before them.
"Wow," Angeline breathed, gazing out at the sea.
Gulls floated peacefully in the breeze. Sailboats drifted along in the distance; a point of land striking greenly alive into the deep blue water. The faint clanging of a beacon drifted along the beach. Somewhere, a child laughed.
Carlton pulled her forward, their feet sinking unto the loose sand as they approached the tide. They reached the damp sand and Carlton released her hand, bending to remove his shoes. She followed his example, watching attentively as he wiggled his toes into the cool, moist sand.
She let out a squeak of fear and clutched his arm as a vigorous wave crested over their feet, the icy water lapping at their bare calves.
She looked up at him, but he was smiling slightly, his eyes closed as he turned his face towards the slowly setting sun.
Angeline followed his example, raising her face to the sun. Another wave lapped over her feet, but she didn't flinch, her hand still wrapped around his forearm. With her eyes closed, she took in the scents, sounds, and textures of the sea.
The breeze rippled her yellow sundress, the material snapping in the wind. The salty froth tingled on her lips as the sun beat down, drying her legs almost as fast as the waves receded.
She shivered, the steady breeze and the icy water combining to turn the mild November day chilly, the warmth of the sun notwithstanding.
Carlton wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her back until the waves no longer touched them.
Her eyes flew open and she looked up at him.
"Time to go in?" she asked quietly.
He shook his head.
"Not yet," he said, walking with her down the beach until they reached a driftwood log, bleached white by the sun.
They sat down and she leaned into his side, his arm still around her shoulders.
The sun was half gone now, orange and huge against the horizon. The sea was blood-red, and Angeline couldn't help the shiver that pushed her deeper into his side.
The movement was almost visible now, the red turning into a faint salmon-pink, and the sun yellow as buttercups.
The sun dipped below the horizon and the clouds were pink now, the sea purple.
Angeline watched the procession in awe and didn't notice that Carlton was watching her instead.
He stood and she stood with him, her eyes still on the palette of colors.
"Turn around," Carlton ordered softly, his hands on her shoulders turning her.
She gasped as she looked into the distance. Over the houses and trees, the mountains loomed as purple as the ocean. The pink clouds wreathed the tops, curling between them like a soft blanket.
"Keep watching," Carlton murmured into her ear, his chest pressed against her back as his arms wrapped around her collar.
It was only a few moments later when the top of the mountains seemed to light on fire, gold glinting from the spires. The shimmering show only lasted seconds and then it was over, the velvet black curtain rolling down.
It was almost too dark to see, the lights from the houses reflecting off the ocean the only illumination.
Still, when she turned in his arms he could see the tears shining on her cheeks.
"Thank you," she said softly, rising up on her toes to kiss him.