They argue in the rain for an hour as they canvas the neighborhood for witnesses. Carlton storms away a dozen times, and Shawn follows him, yells, gets yelled at.
Shawn's observations about the murder victim are either highly valuable to the case or else they are exactly the kind of thing that makes Shawn put himself in a dangerous situation. Neither of them acknowledge that they might be both.
Finally, Lassiter is sick of watching Shawn use his 'psychic' hand gesture; he grabs Shawn's wrist, hard; slams Shawn into the aluminum siding of a neighbor's house. For a second, Shawn thinks that this might be the moment when Lassiter ruins everything they have.
But Lassiter is still then, perfectly still and even scared-looking as he stares at Shawn. Lassiter looks bewildered for some reason, eyes wide and desperate, and water pours down on his face, streaming down his already soaked hair in clear dull lines down his face. He is cold and miserable and he wants something from Shawn other than sarcasm.
Shawn grabs the lapel of Lassiter's coat and pulls him forward, kisses him hard. There is a cold layer of wet clothes between them, and a steady drip above them, but beneath it all there is warmth as they press together, lips and tongues somehow fearless as stale rain seeps into their mouths, a bitter top to a familiar taste.
When they part, Shawn needs a minute to catch his breath, as he leans with one hand on the side of the house, face downcast to keep the rain from his eyes.
It's always Shawn who needs a minute.
He recovers and says, "Thanks for clearing up my wavelengths, Lassie. Dead guy says he definitely wants me on the case."
Lassiter storms off again, wiping the water off his brow only to feel it covered in water a second later again.
Lately, all his days feel like this.