For diablobruh587, who asked for more of this universe. Also for Loafer, who inspires me always.

I own nothing. If I did, Lassiet would be cannon.

I always seem to write these in bed late at night. Sequel to "Simply Be" set three years later. If you haven't read them, here is the urls for the prequel and for "Simply Be." Just add the fan fiction dot net and a slash beforehand.

So It Begins: s/11645694/1/So-It-Begins

Simply Be: s/11544744/1/Simply-Be

Carlton sighed as he looked at the man on the other side of the peep hole. He didn't know why the man was standing on his doorstep. Well, he did know why the man was there. He supposed that a better question would be how the man had found them. Then again, this particular man wasn't known for giving up when he wanted something.

With a sigh, Carlton opened the door. "What are you doing here?"

The other man tried to push his way in, but Carlton held firm. "No, you don't just get to walk in. Give me an answer."

"Why do you always feel the need to protect her? I'm not a danger to her. I'm not a danger to either of them."

Carlton shook his head. "Not physically. You've done a great deal of emotional damage, though, and I need to know why the hell you're here."

"Why are you here? Shouldn't you be working or traveling the country or something?"

"It's none of your business." That statement alone went a long way to show how long the other man had been gone. Carlton had stopped traveling pretty much as soon as he had appeared on Juliet's doorstep with Julien in tow that fateful day five years ago. He now ran a local gun shop where he specialized in restoring antique firearms for sale to private collectors with a shared love of history, but also sold a great many other fine guns and weaponry. The flexibility of owning his own business had done him well in his new life situation. He had actually been working from home on a recently discovered Remington Model 1858 when the doorbell rang.

The other man shifted his weight and frowned. He had certainly shed a few here and there over the years since Carlton had seen him. In fact, the man almost resembled the way he looked when Carlton had first met him 25 years ago. He could see the age on his face, though, and took a small amount of solace in the fact that the years had not been too kind to him. He looked all fifty-five years, and maybe that explained why Carlton let him in.

The man glanced up at a picture of Marlowe and Lilly hung just inside the door next to a few other frames. He gestured in the direction of the picture. "I'm sorry about that. I wanted to reach out and say something, but..."

Carlton shrugged after the man trailed off. "There's very little you could have said, and we really weren't friends anyway."

"Well, I'm still sorry."

Carlton gestured to the nearby living room. "You're welcome to have a seat. Can I get you a glass of water?"

The other man shook his head. "Why the sudden hospitality?"

"Just because I don't want you here, doesn't mean I won't have manners. I wasn't raised like that."

"No, I suppose you weren't."

The two sat down on the beige couch.

The other man grabbed a flowery pillow and hugged it tight. "So... Read any good books lately?"

"I'm going to make you leave before they get home."

"I'm going to put up a fight."

"I won't fight back."

"I knew you wouldn't. How will you make me leave?"

"I know the Chief of Police."

"I used to know her, too."

Carlton shook his head. "You lost the chance to know her when you walked out that door fourteen years ago."

"Fair enough." He ran a hand through his brown hair. "I'm here now."

"It's too little, too late."

The other man glanced at Carlton's hand, and at the band on his ring finger. "I didn't mean it like that."

"I know you didn't. You'd never have had a chance."

"I know. Congratulations, though. You both deserve each other, and I mean that in the best possible way."

Carlton sighed. He was getting far too old to play these games. He almost smiled remembering the party his beautiful wife and step-son had thrown him a few months back. "Cut the crap. Why are you really here, Spencer?"

Shawn sighed and shifted. "After my dad died, I kind of got to thinking."

"You should have come to the funeral. It was a beautiful service."

Shawn nodded. "I know. I was still a little bitter, I guess. I never really forgave him for agreeing with Juliet after everything that happened. It was... It was a lot of yelling and screaming, and I never apologized for the butthead I was being. Then it was too late, and now I'll never have the chance. That's something I will have to carry with me the rest of my life. I realized that I want to make amends wherever I can. I know I can never make it up to Juliet. I left, and I sort of ruined her life."

"She's a strong woman, Shawn, and you should give her some credit. She figured it out, and she's the Chief of Police for Christ's sake. I'd say she's done a pretty good job despite you."

Shawn nodded his agreement. "Yeah, I knew her forgiving me would be a long shot. I still want to apologize, though. To both of them. I missed out on a whole bunch of my son's life, and I want to try to make it up to him."

"He doesn't want to see you, Shawn. I can guarantee it."

Shawn's fists clenched. "He's my son."

Carlton just shook his head. "You may have helped create him, but you are no father to that boy."

"Oh, and you are?"

"No, and I don't pretend to be. I try to be a positive male influence, though. I've always tried to be that for him. I love him like he's my own son, and I would do anything to protect him. I would lay down my life to protect either of them."

Carlton looked down at his watch, then stood. "It's time for you to leave, Spencer. We both know I won't use physical force to move you, but I can promise you don't want to be here when that bus arrives."

He walked over to the door and opened it.

Shawn reluctantly stood. "I'll leave for now, but I'm not leaving town. I need to make these amends, Lassie. I need to apologize before it tears me apart."

Carlton just shook his head. "I know that's what is best for you, but I'm trying to think of what's best for my family. Goodbye, Spencer."

And with that, he shut the door. He watched the younger man walk out to an old truck, one he realized had once belonged to Henry Spencer, then peel out toward the center of town. He knew that he hadn't seen the last of the other man. Shawn Spencer was nothing if not resilient. He just hoped for the sake of everyone involved that none of this would blow up in his face. Only time would tell.

I will write more. This is not the end. Hopefully this read alright. I'm not sure how in-character any of them will be at this point. They've all been through a lot.