It was seven o'clock on a cooling Thursday afternoon, the air smelled thickly of peanuts and fuel. Lassiter boarded the plane to Cheyenne Wyoming with Chief Vick and Spencer directly behind him. He tried to pretend to be annoyed with the 'psychics' obnoxious babbling, that chief some how put up with, but one person could only take so much Spencer.
So it didn't surprise Carlton she sat down in a seat near the front, when his and Spencer's were still a ways back. He smiled lightly when he heard her groan in annoyance and tried to figure out why the blathering didn't bother him as much as it normally did. However it might have to do with the fact that Spencer justified himself earlier by saying that he didn't talk much on planes and had to get it out now before they took off for Cheyenne, the thought of a quiet plane ride put him through it.
The whole reason they were going to Wyoming in the first place is because Chief Vick's cousin's best friend was getting married, and for some odd purpose invited Carlton and Shawn. Lassiter didn't hesitate to say yes, he'd had a load of work piled up and handing it off to O'Hara instantly appealed to him. Shawn however was a little reluctant, he didn't explain why but something about planes didn't sit right with him.
Carlton didn't care where he sat in the plane, so when Shawn asked for the isle seat he was more than happy to oblige. After all it was the first time he heard Shawn Spencer say please can I have it? So he smiled his best smile and slide into the window seat. Shawn claimed that riding window made him sick, but Lassiter didn't really ask for further explanation.
Believe it or not Shawn was true to his word and was peaceful most of the trip, he only spoke when Carlton spoke to him. It was a surprise when it came but Lassiter couldn't help but ask. "Why so quiet Spencer?" for a reply he smiled at the older detective, racking his mind for an idea. "Not much to say, the spirits aren't telling me anything." he didn't actually know the real reason to his titanic silence.
Maybe he was a little tired, or the idea of being this close to the window was making him sick. While his mind was contemplating the answer the loud speaker called out once with a single announcement "and if you look out the window you'll see the lights of Las Vegas." Shawn couldn't resist as he practically jumped over Lassiter's lap and peered out the window...
The lights from the city reflected through the window leaving a bright dazzling smile on Shawn's face. His face was so pleased and peaceful that Carlton didn't care that his personal space had been invaded. He didn't even notice how high up Shawn's hands were on his thigh. After a few peaceful moments of gazing at the beautiful and charming face of the psychic he frowned freed his gaze and cursed to himself.
Shawn pulled back in the next second; his skin turned an unappealing pale with a frightful green tint. He slammed himself back in his seat, red rings focusing under his eyes. He froze with in place like a deer in headlights, unsure what to do, and just waiting to be hit. By hit it just merely meant, that he was waiting to throw up. Carlton raised an eye and frowned lightly, he'd never seen Spencer so… sickly.
"What's wrong with you?" The detective prompted, but instead of the normal gruff and narked tone he always had when talking to Shawn, it was actually a little concerned. Shawn bent forward, burying his face in his hands, and using his elbows to prop him up. A strange urge came over Carlton, his hand twitched lightly before an uncontrollable movement took hold of his arm, and moved it to rub comforting circles into the sick psychic's back.
In the next moment 2 things happened neither of which seemed real to Lassiter. 1: ever so lightly Shawn turned his head so he could see the detective out of the corner of his eye, and whispered a full hearted and sincere thanks before giving a sweet and possibly charming smile to Lassiter. He didn't dare admit it, but the smile could be described as adorable as the psychic was only half lidded and barely awake.
2: Shawn picked himself up, and ran his fingers through his hair casually. He than leaned back into his seat and closed his eyes in an attempt to drift off to sleep. What was unbelievable to Lassiter was actually his own actions; when Shawn leaned back to go to sleep, he leaned half in his own seat, and half on Carlton arm. Instead of push him off or complain, he blushed- he actually blushed, than grabbed his suit jacket, and wrapped it around the younger man.
What really worried him out is that he didn't mind of even re think it. Even when Chief look back from the front of the isle and raised an eye at him, he just shrugged his shoulder and leaned back toward the window. He was careful not to shift in a way that would wake the sleeping psychic. Within 20 minutes he was asleep as well, the head rest of his seat became a barely bearable pillow.
Carlton did have a tendency to shift in his sleep, and not long after, half way through the flight, he'd rolled slightly, and his new pillow was Shawn's head. He didn't wake when Shawn blinked a few times before smiling up at the detective and closing his eyes again. He didn't wake when Shawn snuggled in closer and giggled. He didn't wake when, just before falling asleep again, Shawn reached over and pulled the jacket around both of them.
10 minutes remained in the flight, and Carlton woke to the fresh smell of pineapple shampoo and the loudspeaker telling them they'd be landing soon. He shifted lightly, than turned a bright red color when he realized when he'd been sleeping on. He stretched out his arm but was sure not to wake Shawn, he just looked to peaceful to disturb, besides that risked the chance that he'd open his mouth again.
He reached down and grabbed both ends of his seat belt carefully, pushing them together till the little click sounded in his ears. Than he reached around Shawn's waist and did the same, pushing together the buckles until he heard a snap. "Careful where you put your hands Lassie." A weary voice mocked him, Shawn reached up and rubbed his eyes, but instead of move from the position on Lassie's shoulder he snuggled in closer.
"Get off me Spencer." Yes the irritation in his voice was back, he was starting to worry, now it was all behind him. Shawn smiled and jokingly wrapped an arm over Carlton's chest, and giving him a hug like squeeze. "I would have earlier but you seemed so comfy sleeping on me."
Carlton glared down at him, than shook him off as roughly as he could. "Get the hell off me." He scowled angrily in an attempt to hide the blush creeping up his face. Spencer couldn't help but laugh as he stretched out his legs as much as the restricted area would allow him. "You know you talk in your sleep?" He bluntly pointed out with another smile.
This time Carlton couldn't hide the red that painted over his cheeks, he had heard countless times that he sometimes talked in his sleep, and more than once did it put him in an awkward position like this. "Sounds like someone cares about me!" He chimed out in a singsong voice. Carlton blushed harder and turned his head back out the window, what the hell did he say?
"Oh calm down Lassie-face I'm only kidding. It wasn't that bad" The psychic gave him a playful shove with his shoulder, only pissing off the detective even more. "You just muttered my name once or twice, although it did sound more like a moan. What were you dreaming about?" He asked with a waggle of his upper eyebrow.
Carlton didn't answer, to the fact that he didn't feel like speaking, and the fact that he didn't remember dreaming about anything. Spencer shot a look to the front of the plane where Chief Vick was sitting, she was faced forward not paying them any mind. "I'll tell you what I dreamed about." He pushed further, only causing an uncomfortable shift from the detective sitting next to him.
When no response came for several long moments, Shawn leaned over and grabbed Lassiter's chin turning it toward him. Carlton didn't have time to think before he was lightly kissed just for a brief moment. He didn't respond just stared wide eyed, why wasn't he yelled or freaking out, why wasn't he pushing Spencer away and never speaking to him again.
For the love of god why didn't he turn his head away when Shawn leaned forward again. Instead he closed his eyes and waited for him to come. It seemed like hours before he felt lips brush against his, but finally he felt them, soft moist and tasting slightly like pineapple. It only lasted several seconds but it was the greatest moment he'd ever experienced. "What did I really say in my sleep?" He whimpered out as he felt Shawn's presence leave him.
A smirk crossed the psychics lips and he leaned forward, pressing their foreheads together, his eyes stared dead into Carlton's and he gave him another quick kiss. "I love you too." He whispered with a sly and devious wink before leaning in once more. Carlton gave in and kissed him back, practically dominating the action, damn his sleep talking, and bless his sleep talking.