Birthday fic for my lovely Kkarrie.
Disclaimer: Nothing Psych belongs to me and no copyright infringement is intended.
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Carlton Lassiter grunted as he slammed the passenger door shut. He double-checked the door of the camper before heading back inside to grab his last duffel bag. After rechecking all the doors and windows and the gun in his bag, Lassiter headed back out to the rental truck parked in his driveway.
It was a bit of a sacrifice to leave his prized Crown Vic at home, but, much as it pained the detective to admit it, the smaller vehicle wouldn't be able to stand pulling the camper for very long. He had pulled his car as far up his driveway as possible for the week he planned to be away. He had also left instructions with his neighbors, in no uncertain terms, that it needed to be in the same condition when he returned as it was now.
According to Chief Vick, the head detective needed to take some of his unused vacation time that had been piling up. Not that Lassiter needed a vacation in the least, but an order was an order. Or, at least, a strong suggestion was strong enough for the detective to take the hint.
There were plenty of vacation options available in the immediate vicinity of Santa Barbara - most of which involved easy access to the police station in case of any forgotten items or other small - okay, relatively small - emergencies. However, Santa Barbara's residential pain-in-the-neck and the SBPD psychic consultant, Shawn Spencer, had volunteered more than his share of ideas for the head detective's "staycation," as Shawn was calling it, and Lassiter knew the man-child would find every opportunity to invade other people's privacy. Especially if Shawn knew how Lassiter planned to spend his vacation time, there would never be any peace and quiet until the detective went back to work - and maybe not even then.
The only solution to the problem was to go somewhere so isolated that Shawn Spencer would not be able to find him easily - and even if the psychic could, Lassiter's plan was to be far enough away so he couldn't be interrupted by anything. And he was doing just that. He had rented a truck and camper and planned out a roadtrip. He wasn't going anywhere specific, other than planning to hit up a few fishing spots he had heard were good, but he figured a long drive into nowhere would fill enough time that he could use a week of vacation and get back to putting criminals behind bars.
Turning the key in the ignition, Lassiter pulled onto the street and started on his week of forced time off.
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He drove as long as his gas tank would allow but finally had to find an exit to pull off the interstate. Once he had refilled the truck's tank, he locked the doors and headed for the convenience store several yards past the pumps.
Several minutes later, he reemerged and got back on the road. As much as it pained him to admit that he may have been wrong, he was actually starting to enjoy this whole road trip thing. There was no annoying psychic in sight, and with the entire open road ahead of him, Lassiter was starting to understand how others could enjoy this. Not that being at the station wouldn't be a better use of his time, but if he had to be away, this was the way to do things.
Eventually, dusk was starting to descend, and Lassiter began looking for a motel or campsite in which to spend the night. A few miles down the highway, a sign displaying the available lodgings at the next exit was positioned, inviting weary travelers to stop for the evening. Lassiter took the correct exit and turned into an RV park. He registered and paid the required fees, then parked and unlocked the camper door. He would just hook everything up and then -
"Oh hi, Lassieface!" Shawn greeted from where he had his feet propped up on the small kitchenette table. Shawn had his earbuds in and his iPhone in hand, and several empty chip bags and soda cans were scattered around the other man's seat. "Are we there yet?"
Lassiter crossed his arms in disbelief and annoyance. "Spencer, get your feet off my table. And what in the name of Sweet Lady Justice are you doing in here anyway?" he demanded.
"I couldn't let you vacation all by yourself," Shawn told him, sitting up.
"You are the reason I'm taking this vacation in the first place," Lassiter snapped.
Shawn blinked innocently at him. "Well that's good to know! Though you could have told me you felt that way before I hitched a ride in here. I could have spent the day keeping you company in the cab."
"No, Spencer." Lassiter was using the same tone one might use in discussing something with a small child. "The last thing I need to be doing on this trip is baby-sitting you."
Shawn scrunched up his nose. "Why would you need to do that? I'm just here to keep you company on your trip." As Lassiter crossed his arms, Shawn added, "Well okay. Gus is away on some boring business trip, so I had to find something fun to do."
"And stowing away in my camper was your recreational choice?"
Shawn nodded furiously. "It sure beats spending my days alone in the Psych office. You wouldn't want me to be lonely and bored for an entire week, would you?" he pouted.
Lassiter rolled his eyes. "I really don't care how you spend your days, Spencer, so long as you don't involve me."
"Well," Shawn shrugged, "I'm sorry you feel that way. But look on the bright side! We're so far from Santa Barbara that you get to keep me until you go back! Won't this be great? You and me, the open road, endless possibilities …"
"Spencer!" Lassiter interrupted the other man. "I don't care if we're on the opposite side of the United States. The next town we get to with a bus station, you are going back to Santa Barbara."
"That's going to be a long bus ride."
Lassiter shook his head. "It'll give you time to think of how to spend your week without Guster." He crossed to a cabinet and pulled out a pillow and blanket. "You can sleep on the couch."
Shawn frowned. "So harsh."
"Be thankful I'm even letting you sleep in here. I could just as well kick you out and let you find your way home alone."
"You wouldn't do that, Lassie," Shawn pouted, giving his best puppy dog impression. "You love me too much."
"Want to bet?" Lassiter muttered.
"Fine, fine." Shawn was grinning as he changed subjects. "So, what's for dinner?"