Shawn Spencer: Gypsy

by LezzyB

Shawn Spencer really is psychic. He was born with his abilities. However, that doesn't mean he doesn't have secrets to keep. Being a part of a different race of humans known as the Gypsies can really be a downer when you're trying to start a relationship. Especially with one Carlton Lassiter...

1. Memories, Feelings, and Obliviousness

Hey everyone! This is my first psychfic! I really love the show Psych and I hope that you will like my take on it! By the way, I don't own Psych or any other referenced thing in here!

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"Hey Lassie! Got anything for me?"

Carlton Lassiter looked up from one of his many case files to stare into the bright eyes of Shawn Spencer, the Santa Barbara Police Department's 'psychic' consultant. "Go away, Spencer," Lassiter spat. He really wasn't in a good mood today. One of his cases was reaching a dead end and if they couldn't find their suspect soon, the case would quickly be ruled as unsolved.

Lassiter hated cold cases.

"Aw, is Lassie in a bad mood?" Shawn deepened his voice to sound more like Lassiter. "I'm always in a bad mood. It's part of my appearance."

Lassiter just glared at Shawn. "I don't sound like that, Spencer."

Shawn sat cross-legged on the corner of Lassiter's desk, successfully invading the head detective's personal space and, in turn, annoying the hell out of him.

"Whatcha workin' on Lassie?" Shawn asked.

"A case." When Shawn snatched the case file out of his hand, Lassiter took it right back. "It's none of your business!"

Shawn held his hands up in surrender. "Sorry, Lassieface. I'm just saying I might be able to help."

Lassiter glared at him again. "I don't need your psychic crap, Spencer."

Lassiter thought he saw hurt in Shawn's eyes, but it was quickly replaced by his childish indifference. "Oh, Lassie. When will you learn?" Shawn chortled.

Although Lassiter didn't believe it, Shawn really did have psychic powers. He was born with them and, being the prideful gypsy that he was, he hated it when someone insulted or even denied the existence of his abilities.

"Never." Lassiter said, bringing Shawn from his thoughts. Lassiter, meanwhile, looked around the office in search of someone who currently wasn't around. "Spencer, why don't you go find Guster and bug him for a while?"

Shawn tapped his lips, pretending to ponder the idea. "I can't." He said simply.

Lassiter rubbed his temples tiredly. Normally, Shawn couldn't bother him this much, but today was different. He was exhausted from working this case. "And why not?"

Shawn immediately got up, pacing back and forth in his sudden anger. "He tricked me!"

Lassiter, a little shaken by Shawn's sudden mood swing and not really understanding yet why the consultant couldn't leave, asked, "How?"

Shawn brushed his hand in the air dismissively. "I don't even know where he got it from…"

"Got what?" Lassiter asked again, getting frustrated with Shawn's vagueness.

Shawn turned to Lassiter. "Gypsy scrolls!"

Lassiter blinked. "I'm sorry. What?"

This time, Shawn glared at Lassiter, which was surprising because he never glared at anyone. "I don't think I trust you enough to tell you that Lassie."

Lassiter snorted. "Since when do you have trust issues, Spencer?"

"Since my laws state not to tell you these things."

"Oh, come off it, Spencer!" Lassiter yelled. "You're not a damn gypsy! You don't have different laws!"

Shawn glared again. It was one thing to insult his abilities, but to insult his heritage was on a completely different scale. "You have no right to say that, Lassiefrass." Shawn may have said that in a lightened tone, but it was laced with a warning that Lassiter apparently didn't notice. He pushed himself up with his hands to come to eye level with Shawn.

"I have every right to call out a con-artist. You've never once tried to prove yourself other than your fake psychic visions!"

Shawn sighed. Why was Lassiter making a big deal out of this all of a sudden? "I shouldn't even have to prove myself. You're lucky I even bother with the police." Shawn muttered.

Lassiter stared at Shawn, genuinely surprised. He'd never seen Spencer truly angry. He was always so carefree. Seeing Shawn so pissed off and having said anger directed right at him was unsettling at the very least. Lassiter decided he really didn't like it. However, that didn't mean he was going to back down. The younger man did just insult the police. "Are you insinuating that you are better than the police?" Lassiter seethed. "Cause I beg to differ."

Shawn took a breath. If there was one thing his mentor had taught him, it was to have patience with people like Lassiter. He'll come around soon enough. Shawn thought. Then he might see why I've stuck around…

Shawn shook his head. He knew Lassiter would never see him that way, regardless of how he felt. That didn't mean he would stop bugging Lassiter. He loved messing with him. "I don't think I'm better than the police," Shawn explained. "I just know I'd get into a lot of trouble if I were found out by some certain… radicals."

Lassiter narrowed his eyes. "You're joking."

Shawn forced his face to brighten. No use in fighting against him all day. Might as well as make the best of it. "Nope! Not joking, but it seems I am once again unable to persuade you so how about we stop bickering like an old married couple? Besides," Shawn said before Lassiter could retort. "Jules is here!"

Lassiter looked around. "No she's not."

Shawn smirked. "Guess again!"

Just then, Juliet O'Hara walked through the SBPD entrance and to her desk. Shawn hadn't even turned around. He was just grinning like an idiot at Lassiter.

This was one of the many times where Lassiter would just grumble incoherent insults and return to his work. The reason being because he had no idea how to retort. During moments like these, Lassiter seriously doubted whether he was right on the whole 'Spencer isn't psychic' thing.

Meanwhile, Shawn decided to leave Lassiter to his brooding to go and talk to Juliet. She seemed a little off today, if her emotions were anything to go by. Shawn sat down in the chair next to her desk, asking, "Care to tell me what's wrong, Jules?"

Juliet sighed. "It's this case. It's been nagging at me night and day!"

Shawn brightened up a bit. Maybe he might get on a case after all. "Is it the one Lassie's been working on?" That would just be a plus. Shawn thought.

"Yeah. There's something we're missing. You know, besides our lead suspect."

Shawn furrowed his brow. "You're missing your suspect?"

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean we aren't missing something else." She sat down in her chair, stacked her case folders, and rubbed her eyes tiredly. "There's something connecting the victims, but we can't figure it out."

Shawn smiled reassuringly. "I'm sure you can figure it out. Unless," he started. "You're in need of my… assistance?"

Juliet smiled back. Smiles were infectious. "How'd you know?"

Shawn put his fingers to his temple, a gesture that Juliet took as him saying, 'I'm psychic, remember'?

Putting his hand down, Shawn said, "So, what do you have on the case?"

Juliet sorted through the files she had just stacked, messing them up again. She pulled one out and handed it over to Shawn. He hesitated before taking it; he hated it when he had visions of the people who had touched the folder previously. Once, he'd had a vision of Buzz McNab with his wife. Needless to say he did not want to see that again.

Once the folder was in his hands his vision shifted to that of the man they were searching for. According to his instincts he was currently viewing the present location of the man. Shawn separated himself from viewing through the suspect's eyes and was now looking through his own as an invisible bystander.

Shawn didn't know the exact way his abilities worked. He normally just went by his instincts and by what his mentor had taught him. So, Shawn did the first thing that came to mind. He observed his surroundings. They were in the diner next to the police station. Now why in the hell is he outside of a police station when he's a wanted man? Shawn wondered. Looking in the man's hand Shawn realized why.

The man had a gun.

Shawn forced himself to return to his body. Looking around the station, he noticed everyone was where they were supposed to be. Juliet was staring at him worriedly (she didn't like it when Shawn went into 'vision mode'), McNab was at his desk talking on the phone, Chief Vick was in her office and Lassie was…

"Hey, Jules?" He asked, his voice in a bit of a tremble.

"Yeah Shawn?"

"Where's Lassie?"

Juliet looked confused. "He went to get some coffee from the diner. Why? Didn't you hear him say he was leaving?"

Shawn's eyes widened in fear. He jumped up and was out the door in record time. He didn't even give Juliet the chance to ask what was wrong. He ran into the diner, seeing Lassiter grabbing his coffee. He sighed in relief, Lassie hadn't been shot.

Shawn looked around the diner and, sure enough, his gaze fell on the suspect with his gun under the table.

Shawn could feel the emotion running off of the suspect. He, for some reason, had a lot of hate for something Shawn couldn't quite put his finger on. Shawn shook his head. He didn't have time to figure out the details. He had to get Lassie away from the diner. He didn't want him to get shot.

So, Shawn put on his usual happy-go-lucky face and practically skipped – albeit hurriedly – to Lassiter.

Upon seeing Spencer, Lassiter rolled his eyes. "What do you want, Spencer? I came here for a reason." To get away from you, was what he wanted to add, but decided against it.

Shawn just smiled. "Well, there's been a change in plans. Jules needs to see you right away." He said, grabbing Lassiter's arm and pulling him to the door.

Lassiter, however, was having none of that. He was on break and O'Hara knew that. She never bugged him on his break unless it was really important. "What does she need me for?"

Without missing a beat, Shawn said, "She didn't tell me. Now let's go."

"Hold on, Spencer. You'd better not be playing one of your elaborate pranks on me." He narrowed his eyes suspiciously when Shawn kept watching someone behind him. "What's got your panties in a knot?"

Shawn closed his eyes to breathe a calming breath. When he opened them, Lassiter saw genuine worry and fear etched into his face. The young man lowered his voice to a whisper. "Don't turn around. Your suspect is in the diner. Just walk out, grab some officers, and then take him down."

A million questions came to Lassiter's mind. For example, how did Shawn know this information, and, why didn't he have O'Hara come with him? Instead, though, he asked, "Why can't I do it now?"

"He has a gun, Lassie!" Shawn scolded.

Just then, Shawn felt a shift in the angry suspect's emotions. Shawn knew that he had to do something quick before a lot of people were caught in the crossfire, for the emotional shift was a redirection. Now the man was angry at Shawn. For what reason? Shawn didn't know. He wasn't a full-blown mind reader… yet.

"Lassie, please," Shawn pleaded. At the unabated look on Lassiter's face, Shawn compromised. "I can keep him here. I won't let him go."

Lassiter snorted. "That is one of the dumbest ideas you have proposed yet, Spencer. I'm not letting a civilian go near a murder suspect."

Shawn laughed humorlessly. "I think it's safe to say he's your guy. Now let's get going." He started pulling Lassiter out of range again, who followed this time. "I'll be fine, Lassie. He won't even know I'm here." Shawn lied. He knew something had made the man shift his anger and Shawn would find out whether he wanted to or not. That was just Shawn's luck.

Lassiter nodded. "Don't do anything stupid." This went against everything he stood for, but he knew he didn't have his gun on him, nor did any of the other officers. Chief Vick had requested that this be protocol when out leisurely. Silently, he cursed that rule, now more than ever. Spencer was in the line of fire and, for a reason Lassiter didn't want to admit at this moment in time, that put him on edge. Shaking his head, Lassiter walked briskly away towards the station thinking he'd best not dwell too long on those thoughts and focus on the task at hand.

Shawn turned around and walked towards the purchase counter. He decided to order something because, for one, it gave him a reason to stay in the diner and, two, it would make it easier to act like he wasn't watching the suspect. Even though he wasn't in the mood to put anything in his stomach, Shawn sat down while sipping his pineapple Slurpee in the back of the diner where he could keep an eye on the guy.

Whoever this guy was, he really knew how to be inconspicuous, considering he had brought a gun into a diner full of police officers while going unnoticed. Though, as Shawn studied the man further, he wondered how that was even possible for him. The man was dressed lavishly in bright red clothing, which was kind of ironic considering he… Not going there, man. Shawn scolded himself. That's a low blow to the dead. Though he didn't show it in public, Shawn held great honor for the dead, as was the custom of his people. They, after all, were one of the main sources of his powers.

Turning away from the man who gave him the creeps, Shawn turned towards the entrance of the police station that could be seen through the diner window, watching for Lassiter to come running out. And, sure enough, Lassiter ran through the police station doors, dragging Jules along with him.

Shawn smiled. He loved it when Lassiter got all serious, especially when he was doing it to protect Shawn. Of course, Shawn knew Lassiter was only there to catch the murderer, but he still let himself believe that Lassiter was there for him.

Shawn was so captivated by his own thoughts that he didn't think about the fact that his back was turned to the murder suspect. He didn't even notice the man had gotten up and was standing right behind him until Lassiter burst through the door with Juliet in tow shouting, "No! Spencer, you idiot! Look behind you!"

Shawn didn't even get the chance to turn before he felt something press against his skull.

A gun.

"Drop the weapon, Marshall," Lassiter yelled angrily. "Or I won't hesitate to shoot you."

The man sneered at Lassiter. "Why should I let this… thing go free?" Noticing the increasing anger on the head detective's face, the man named Marshall asked, "You don't get it, do you?"

Juliet had her gun trained on Marshall, looking for any sign of an opening. "Get what?" She asked. "That you're killing people?"

"C'mon guys!" Shawn reasoned in a panic. "Let's work this out peacefully. Why don't you, Marshall, go with the nice police lady and the grumpy policeman and work out your problems? You've obviously got a lot of problems if you're killing people, but"-

"Shut up!" Marshal said as he covered Shawn's mouth with is free hand.

The one thing about Shawn's abilities that he really doesn't like is the fact that every time someone touches him or he touches them he has visions of what they've done or will do. Right now? Shawn was seeing this man hovering over a mother defending her child who was maybe seven years old. The mother had red silk binding her hands, so she wasn't really going to be able to put up a fight. The child was bound as well.

The mother and child were obviously gypsies if the red silk was anything to go by. His mentor had always taught him to look out for red silk because if it is tied to a gypsy, his or her powers are rendered useless. If Shawn were in a better situation, he might've laughed and said red silk is to gypsies as Kryptonite is to Superman.

Currently, however, Shawn was not in a better situation. He was being forced to watch the horrendous sight before him. If he tried to look away to the left, there were people just sitting there, cowering in fear and bloodied from what Shawn could tell was most likely from torture. If he looked to his right, there were three dead bodies piled on top of each other, each with their own set of torture wounds and a final gash to their throats. Shawn couldn't physically feel anything in any of his visions, but if he could, he'd be vomiting from the amount of blood in the room. The coppery smell that covered the area was almost enough to cover up the smell of bile and rotting corpses.

Almost.

So, Shawn forced himself to watch the scene unravel before him, hoping to shed some light on why this man was doing what he was doing.

"Why are you doing this?" The woman cried.

"Because it must be done." He said softly.

"Don't. Please. You don't have to do this. Take me, please. Take me and not my son!"

He slapped her across the face, making her and the son scream in fear. "No!" The man shouted. "You all need to die! You are not normal, so therefore you are not meant to live in this world!"

"What the hell kind of logic is that?" The woman spat through her tears.

"Logic? I don't need logic to deal with something like you people." Marshall grabbed the woman by her long hair, pulling it back painfully so her neck was exposed. He pulled out a knife with his free hand. "Goodbye, freak." He said as he sliced her neck open, her seven year old son watching not three feet away. The others in the room screamed, but none was more bloodcurdling than that of the son. Shawn looked to the right at the corpses of those killed by Marshall's hand as the boy was silenced not ten seconds later.

Coming back to the present, Shawn felt tears running down his face. He wasn't scared for his life anymore. The thought of fear was taken away the moment he watched the light leave the woman's eyes. I don't even know her name… Shawn thought miserably, feeling the bile rising from his stomach.

"You fucking bastard!" Shawn shouted, surprising Lassiter and Juliet. "How many did you kill? How many of my people did you murder?"

"Spencer, calm down." Lassiter reasoned. "He's got a gun to your head."

Shawn glared at Lassiter, squirming in Marshall's grasp. "No! He killed them, Lassie! He killed them for being who they are!"

Shawn flicked his wrist, sending the gun in Marshall's hand flying. Shawn then proceeded to turn around and punch Marshall in the face. It hurt like hell, but Shawn didn't care. He was going to kill Marshall. However, Shawn didn't get the chance to give him another blow because Lassiter was holding him back while Juliet cuffed him. "Let me go, damn it!" Shawn shouted. "I'll kill him!"

Lassiter, meanwhile, had no idea what was going on. He'd never seen Shawn this angry before and, frankly, it was a scary sight. When he was angry at Lassiter back in the station was nothing compared to what Shawn was feeling right now. "I'm not letting go until you tell me what the hell you saw when he touched you!" Lassiter yelled at the squirming Spencer.

Shawn stopped moving and Lassiter let him go, even though he was standing in such a way as to grab Shawn in case he took off towards the station. The young man turned towards Lassiter, who was surprised to see tears falling down Shawn's cheeks.

"He killed all those people, Lassie. He killed them because they were gypsies."

Shawn then proceeded to wretch repeatedly onto the floor, causing all the officers who had stayed to watch the scene unfold to back away. Only Lassiter approached Shawn. He wasn't the best at comforting, but he had to do what he could for Shawn. Even though Lassiter would never admit it aloud, he wanted to see Spencer's smiling face again, if only to bring some normalcy to this depressing atmosphere. It sounded like a selfish reason, but it was the only one Lassiter could come up with that seemed logical. The other explanation – the truth – was too farfetched for anyone to even begin to comprehend.

The truth was that Lassiter cared for Shawn immensely and, dare he say it, he loved the younger man for all he was worth, though he didn't show it. He knew his love was unrequited, but that didn't mean he didn't still have feelings for Spencer. Sometimes, with the way Spencer threw himself around – especially at Lassiter – he would get so caught up in the moment that the minute Shawn landed in Lassiter's arms he would pin the younger man to the wall to engage in a mind-blowing make-out session, but then, at the last second, he would realize where he was, what he was doing, and who he was with and pull away, hating himself so much for his feelings that he took it out on Spencer with some piss poor retort.

And today? Today Lassiter almost lost Shawn to a damn racist. He wasn't about to let that happen again. But, for now, he had to comfort Shawn as best he could. "Spencer," Lassiter started, but he couldn't even finish his sentence because Spencer was yelling at him and backing away from him.

"You wouldn't understand, Lassie! You don't know how closely knitted together our people are." Shawn paused, his anger shifting from Lassiter to himself. "I should've known. I should've done something!"

"Spencer, you're being unreasonable!"

Shawn glared at Lassiter again. "You don't understand…"

Lassiter snorted. "I don't understand? I think you've got this all wrong, Spencer. You don't understand. You're putting the blame on yourself when it wasn't even your fault! The Powers That Be or whatever determines your psychic visions didn't send you anything to work with, so how in the hell could you possibly know what was going on?" Lassiter explained.

Shawn looked at Lassiter incredulously. "Are you saying that you believe in my abilities?"

"I do." Lassiter said without missing a beat. "I was just too closed-minded to admit it." He admitted.

Shawn stared at the ground, shifting his feet awkwardly. "Thanks, Lassie." He looked back up only to see Lassiter standing right next to him, which startled him. Usually when someone moved, Shawn could sense his or her aura move as well, even when he wasn't concentrating on that specific person. That was how he knew Jules was coming into the station earlier that day.

With Lassiter, though, Shawn could never read the man. That's why the older man always had him guessing, which Shawn had grown to appreciate. Lassiter gave him a sense of normalcy that no other person in the world could. Shawn smiled slightly to himself. He remembered when that used to bother him, but his mentor had cleared that up fairly well, meaning she gave absolutely no clarity on the subject but somehow making him feel better about the whole situation. Shawn remembered that conversation very well, actually. He was sitting in his mentor's tent at the gypsy camp outside of town a couple years ago…

"Shawn?" His mentor began. "What's eating you?"

Shawn sighed tiredly. "It's that head detective." Shawn said. "You remember him, right? The brooding one?"

"Lassiter?"

"Yeah." He said.

"Why is he bothering you so much, child?" She asked.

"I can't read him. I can't feel his emotions, his aura, I can't see his past or future… nothing."

His mentor smiled knowingly. She'd seen this many times in the gypsy community. "It will all become clear eventually, Shawn. Just give it time." She paused, then, "Why is this bothering you so much?"

Shawn ran a hand through his hair as he said, "It's just… I don't know… It just does. I can read anybody I want to, but the person I want to read the most isn't open to me."

His mentor raised an eyebrow, an amused glint in her eyes. "You want to read him more than anything?"

Shawn's eyes widened in realization of what he'd just said. "Um… I uh… That is…" He stammered, his cheeks ablaze and red.

His mentor just laughed. "Don't worry my child. I will not judge you, for who am I to do it?"

Shawn sighed in relief. "Thank you."

Shawn opened his eyes he hadn't realized he'd closed to look up at Lassiter and take in his surroundings. Somehow they'd ended up outside of the diner.

"What should I do?" Shawn asked.

"What do you mean?" Lassiter asked in return.

"Although I'd very much like to, I can't just waltz into the station and kill him, and I'd be tempted to if I stayed. What should I do?"

Lassiter looked pensive for a moment, realized something, and pulled a notepad out to write something on it. He pulled the paper off the pad, folded it and gave it to Shawn while saying, "Don't read it till I'm in the station, got it?"

Shawn looked at the paper questionably for a second, then back to Lassiter, who was blushing slightly. Whatever's in this note must be pretty good.

Shawn smiled at Lassiter. "Okay." He said simply.

Lassiter nodded slightly and walked away. He knew he would probably regret this later, but he had to make sure Shawn was okay. Lassiter may have a lot of case files to go through as well as an interrogation, but some of those things will have to wait. Marshall can rot in a cell for all I care… He thought petulantly. As much joy as it would bring Lassiter in cracking the bastard, Shawn was his top priority right now. He'd taken precedence over everything the detective did the day Shawn was kidnapped with a gunshot wound in his side. Now, after almost losing Shawn again, after seeing Shawn with so much fear in his eyes, he had to make sure Shawn was okay. Lassiter had to or else he wouldn't sleep tonight. Maybe this will help him feel better. Lassiter thought. He hoped so or else he would have no idea what else to do.

Shawn watched Lassiter's back impatiently as he walked back to the station, waiting diligently for the second those glass doors to close behind him. After several agonizing minutes of waiting, Shawn gained his reward. He opened the note. God, he felt like a sixteen year old girl who'd just gotten a note from her current crush. I guess I'm not that far off with that one… Shawn sighed, sad that he was right in comparing himself to a girl.

Turning back to the note, Shawn read through Lassiter's chicken scratch.

Meet me at the station after I get off work.

There're some things I want to ask you.

Shawn's heat rate quickened. What could Lassiter possibly want to ask him? Why couldn't Lassiter have asked Shawn when he was standing right in front of him? It must be pretty important. Shawn thought. I'd better wait and see.

Shawn, however, was not very good at being patient and he really didn't want to be alone, so he decided he needed a distraction. Gus should be off work soon. I should go see if he wants to get something to eat. Though he wasn't very hungry after the incident with Marshall, he decided that would be his best option. He'd probably get hungry if food was placed in front of him, though it was highly unlikely. Besides, I have to figure out how the hell he got gypsy scrolls in the first place.

Gypsy scrolls were a type of parchment used in making any sort of agreement, whether it was personal or business related. Usually, it was a well-kept secret in the gypsy community that the stuff even existed. The reason being because if a gypsy signed the paper, he or she would be forced to do whatever the contract said he or she would be agreeing to do. Whoever Gus got it from is gonna be in huge trouble. Shawn thought. He just hoped Gus wouldn't get into trouble as well.

So, with a goal in mind, Shawn headed over to his bike and drove off to the pharmacy where Gus worked at. He made it just as Gus was walking outside. "Hey buddy!" Shawn greeted cheerily. It was good to see his best friend after the day he'd had. "How's it going?"

Gus narrowed his eyes. If there was one thing that Gus could tell after years of friendship with the other man it was noticing when something was wrong with him. Shawn always kept himself in pristine condition, contrary to popular belief. It was something he learned from his father. The way Shawn's shirt was wrinkled and his hair was disheveled made Gus think there was definitely something wrong.

"Something happened, didn't it?" Gus said as more of a statement than a question.

Shawn sighed. "I was hoping you'd be my distraction." Then, "How do you even do that? You make me wonder if you're the psychic and not me."

Gus rolled his eyes. "Shawn, we've been friends for how long now? I think I'm entitled to knowing things about you."

"Aw Gus! You're like the Bonnie to my Clyde, except you're not a woman and we don't get into nefarious plots that will ultimately add to our criminal record and early demise. Although I question the woman part on a daily basis…"

Gus grinned. "You learn 'nefarious' all by yourself? You must be hanging out with Lassiter too much."

Shawn just shrugged. "Whatever buddy. Let's go grab some grub. I'll fill you in when we get there."

So, Gus got in the blueberry while Shawn got on his bike. Shawn led the way to his own apartment, where he dropped his bike off and hopped in Gus' car. "So," Gus began. "What happened?"

Shawn sighed. He was hoping they could do this somewhere else. Somewhere where Gus wouldn't ask too many questions. Like in a public place. He knew Gus would freak out for not telling him sooner. He really wished he didn't have to, but his friend had him cornered. So, he started his explanation from the time he had the vision to the time he was held hostage and Lassiter saved him. He conveniently left out the fact that Lassiter had asked him to meet him after work. Gus didn't know about his feelings for the head detective and Shawn was sure that if Gus found out that he agreed to meet up with Lassiter at the end of his shift he might get suspicious. Shawn really didn't want to be the one to explain why he agreed.

"So that's what happened." Gus said.

"That's what happened." Shawn repeated.

There was a beat of silence shared between the two men before Gus finally freaked. "What the hell Shawn? Do you have a death wish? Do you want to get shot in the head? Cause that's all I got from this situation. You went after Marshall knowing he had a gun! You knew and you didn't even thing to bring Juliet or McNab or anybody else friendly with a gun with you! What were you thinking?"

Shawn understood that his best friend was only saying this for his own good, but it still irritated the hell out of him that he wasn't being trusted. "Gus, I knew what I was getting myself into. I probably wasn't thinking clearly. I'll give you that, but if Lassie had been shot and killed I don't know what I would be like right now. Especially since I knew the guy was out there and I had worried about my own safety instead of Lassie's. I would never forgive myself! So why don't we just leave it at that and think about something else?"

With that, Shawn and Gus drove in an uncomfortable silence the rest of the way to the pizza place they both really liked. As they both got out of the car, Shawn couldn't take it anymore. "Okay, buddy. I'm tired of this… silent fighting thing we've got going on right now. I know you've only got my best interests at heart"-

"You know that's right." Gus interrupted.

Shawn glared, shutting Gus up. "But I don't like the fact you think I just rush into every single situation I get myself into."

Gus crossed his arms. "You have yet to prove that otherwise."

"Okay. I'll give you that too." Shawn said, receiving a nod from Gus. "But I didn't this time. I just… was acting stupid and not thinking. Usually when I rush into something I have some inkling of a plan, but this time all I could think about was Lassie and getting him away from there. Can't we just get on with life and say that both of us are alive and okay?"

Gus contemplated this for a second, then finally accepted it with a nod of approval. "Okay Shawn. I'm glad you and Lassiter are okay. Let's drop the subject and go get something to eat. I'm starving! Somebody at work put the wrong medicine in the wrong pill bottles. I spent the entire day fixing it. We're lucky the medicine wasn't shipped out already…"

As Gus trailed on, only to stop when he ordered his pizza, Shawn couldn't help but feel a little better. He still didn't feel a hundred percent, but Gus was able to relax him a little bit as a best friend should be able to do. Gus never again asked about what happened between Marshall and him and instead became the distraction that Shawn wanted him to be. For that, Shawn was grateful.

"So," Gus started as the two friends were walking out of the pizza place. "Do you want me to drop you off at your apartment?"

Shawn was about to say yes, but then he remembered his 'date' with Lassiter. I had so much fun with Gus I'd almost forgotten. He thought to himself. "No. But you can drop me off at the station."

Gus narrowed his eyes at Shawn. "And why is that?"

Shawn blanched for a second, then came to his wits by saying, "I think I left something at there when I went off to save Lassie. Oh, I was so brave, wasn't I? I should start a bodyguard service…"

"Shawn?"

"Hmm?" Shawn said, looking up from his rant.

"I'll drop you off at the station, but I'm sorry to say you'll have to find your own way home. I have some… uh… business to take care of."

Shawn smiled brightly. "Oh my God. Gus has a lady! Who is it? It better not be Shelby What's-her-name from Junior year. Does she even still live here? I heard she got an STD from sleeping with the football team…"

"Shawn, everyone knows she had an STD. She told people she got it from you! That's why you started that rumor about the football team in the first place."

Shawn stopped. "Oh. So that's why I hated her so much." Narrowing his eyes at Gus, Shawn said, "You do know I don't have an STD, right?"

Gus said nothing.

"Right?"

"I'll believe it when you get tested." Gus said while walking away swiftly to his car.

Shawn's jaw dropped, astonished that Gus would say that. The man quickly followed his friend to the blueberry, shouting, "Oh, come on buddy! Why can't you believe my word?"

"Because I know the way you were in high school, Shawn."

"Touché." Shawn said quietly. "Wait!" He said as he sat down in the passenger seat of the car. "Is that why you carry hand sanitizer with you everywhere you go? C'mon Gus! Low blow! Where's the love?"

"I ain't gettin' it from you, that's for sure." Gus countered. "Not till you get tested."

"You really want me to get tested for an STD?"

Gus nodded. "Yes Shawn. I do. You never know. You could have something and you wouldn't even know it." Gus turned the steering wheel and pulled up to the front of the station. "You know," he started. "I could get you an appointment to get tested. I have 'doctor friends' as you like to call them."

Shawn thought about that statement for a second, considering whether or not to take his best friend up on his offer. Deciding it couldn't hurt, he said yes. "I'll do it tomorrow after my appointment." Shawn stepped out of the car, but before he left he leaned down on the rolled-down window saying, "Can you make the doctor appointment by then?"

"Yeah," Gus said. "I'll make some calls."

"Thanks." Shawn smiled. He tapped the top of the blueberry. "See ya later buddy."

"See you Shawn."

Gus then drove off right as Shawn turned around towards the station. He pulled out his phone to check the time. It was eight o'clock, which meant he was right on time to meet Lassiter as he got off work. Actually he should be coming out of the building right about… now.

Sure enough, Lassiter walked out of the building looking as perfect as he did when he walked in at the start of his shift. At least, that's the way he looked to those who didn't know him very well. Shawn, however, could see the flaws in his appearance. For example, Lassiter always carried his notepad and three pens somewhere on his person. He had the notepad, but it was in the wrong pocket. His pens were misplaced. His hair looked as if it had been run through by his hands multiple times. He even had slightly darker circles under his eyes than he normally did. Something had been bothering him all day and Shawn somehow found it reasonable to take it upon himself to figure out what it was.

Lassiter, meanwhile, was feeling like utter shit. He was a nervous wreck all day because he kept wondering why he'd asked Spencer to meet him after work. He kept telling himself it was because he wanted to make sure he was okay, but Lassiter knew better than that. He'd also found out some very disturbing information from Marshall and he wasn't sure if he should tell Spencer about it or not. If he kept it from him, Spencer would just find out eventually and get angry at him for keeping it to himself. If he told him, it would only worry Spencer more than he already was.

Not many people know this (and the ones who did kept it quiet), but Lassiter watched Shawn a lot. There were little things that Shawn had to make sure he did (Lassiter guessed) before he even thought about going out into public. For example, his shirts always looked perfect, no wrinkles in sight. The only things on his shirt that could even resemble wrinkles were the creases he put on his shirt to make his more desirable features look more prominent and the so-called less desirable features not so noticeable. His hair was always messy but, if he got close enough, Lassiter could smell the product he used to make it that way.

Today, however, wrinkles had appeared on Shawn's shirt and his hair was everywhere but where it normally was. He was obviously more distraught than he was letting on, if that fake smile was anything to go by. As Lassiter got closer to Shawn, the look in his eyes confirmed that the smaller man was hurting.

Lassiter made his way over to Shawn, standing a whole head taller over him. They stood in silence for a minute or so, only to cave in to the question that was plaguing them both since they'd made eye contact.

"Are you alright?" They both said at the same time.

"Uh…" Shawn said.

"You first." Lassiter replied.

Shawn dropped his eye contact from the taller man. "Let's go somewhere else. I'd rather not let the whole police station hear me and I'm sure you wouldn't want them to see you hanging with me."

Lassiter winced slightly at the pained look on Shawn's face as he said that. Lassiter, in all honesty, had grown to appreciate Shawn's company. He used to despise the fact that he had to hang around the younger man, but that was only because he was afraid he'd sexually attack Shawn right where he stood. Over the years Lassiter had learned control, but sometimes it became a little too hard to handle and he had to walk away. Right now it wasn't as bad, but Lassiter could still sense that tingly feeling he got when he was around Shawn in the back of his mind. Tonight is going to be rough. Lassiter thought. I'm just going to have to suffer through it. "Come on then. Have you eaten anything?"

Shawn shook his head as he walked over to Lassiter's car. "I went with Gus to the pizza place down the road from my apartment but I just wasn't hungry."

Lassiter was surprised. Shawn was always hungry. It must really be bothering him. Lassiter thought miserably. And I can't do a thing to help him…

As the two men sat down in Lassiter's black squad car, a kind of uncomfortable silence developed between them. As it became more and more unbearable, Lassiter was the first one to crack by asking, "Anywhere specific you want to go?"

"What? You mean for food? Lassie, I told you I wasn't hungry. You don't have to get me anything."

Lassiter just scowled at Shawn as he started the car. "You're eating. I don't care if you just eat a small salad. I'm not having you skipping meals."

Shawn just stared. Was Lassiter showing genuine concern towards him? "I think I'm dreaming."

"About what?"

"About you actually caring about me." Shawn said while staring down conveniently at his hands.

That's it. Lassiter thought. Enough of this. "You think I don't care about you?" Lassiter scoffed. "What gave you that idea?"

It was Shawn's turn to glare. "How about all the times you've pushed me or yelled at me or made me feel like I wasn't good enough?"

"That was…" He couldn't really tell the truth now could he?

"Yeah. That's what I thought. You don't have a reason. You're just doing this because you feel sorry for me. I hate pity so let's just end this now and you can take me home."

Lassiter was getting frustrated. Why did the conversation have to take such a negative turn? He wasn't very good at the talking thing. That's why these next words surprised even him. "Shawn, I'm sorry I've made you feel that way but that's not the way I feel about you. For reasons unknown to me I care about you more than I've ever cared about another human being in my life. I'm not doing this out of pity for you. I'm taking you to dinner because I want to know if you're alright! No one deserves to spend a night alone after that! Once again, I'm sorry I've made you feel that way. I'm just not good at conveying feelings I guess."

Shawn was speechless. For one, Lassiter had called him by his first name. Second, Lassiter said he cared about him more than anyone else. How was that even possible? He had Jules and Karen and McNab and, hell, he should even care about his ex-wife more than him! What did he do that warranted this? Shawn wanted to ask all of the questions he had, but only one came out. "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why do you feel this way about me?" When Lassiter gave Shawn a questioning look, Shawn said, "I'm nothing but second rate. I can't hold onto anything long enough to get serious about it. Not even a career."

"You also act childish, as if you were still stuck in high school," Lassiter said. "But that still doesn't change the fact that I care about you." He paused, wondering whether he should say his next statement. Deciding for it, he said, "I guess I find those qualities… appealing."

The red tint on each other's faces did not go unnoticed by the other, but instead of saying anything, Lassiter stopped the car. Clearing his throat, Lassiter said, "We're here."

"Aw!" Shawn playfully whined. "I thought I was choosing the place to eat!"

Lassiter shook his head, a slight smile playing at his lips. "You would've only chosen a greasy pizza place or a Chinese restaurant with food full of MSGs. You don't need any of that. It will only make you sick."

Shawn smirked. "Lassie is watching out for me? Will you hold my hand when we cross the street? I'm only thirty-three years old. I can't do it by myself!"

Lassiter rolled his eyes. When he turned around to face Shawn, a mischievous thought came to mind. Let's see how he'd react. So, he did something completely out of character and held his hand out. Shawn just looked so confused that Lassiter almost laughed right there but instead he stood his ground and kept his hand out with a straight face while saying, "Well? Are you coming or not?"

Shawn chewed on his bottom lip, a nervous habit he thought he'd lost in high school but decided to reappear now. Should I take it or not? Is he being serious? Does he know I was just kidding? Goddammit I sound like a school girl! Shawn thought. So, instead of confronting the problem like he should, Shawn redirected it towards humor like he always did. "Oh, Lassieface! If you wanted to hold my hand that bad you could've just asked!" Then, Shawn took his hand.

On the outside, Lassiter was as stoic as always, but right now, that's not at all how he felt. He could feel every twitch in the muscles in Shawn's hand as it wrapped around his own. He could feel the warmth it radiated. As they walked, Shawn's warm hand sent goose-bumps down up his arms, making Lassiter have to resist a shudder. How could a simple contact such as hand-holding do this to him? It's not the gesture, Lassiter thought. It's the person.

Once inside the restaurant, the hostess asked, "Table for two, I'm guessing?"

"Yes." Lassiter said distractedly.

"Okay then!" She said cheerfully. "And might I add that you two are good for each other. I don't know why, but I've always been able to read people pretty well and you two make a great couple."

Shawn and Lassiter looked at each other, shocked by the bold statement made by the hostess. Shawn's face, Lassiter noticed, had turned a bright shade of red. Lassiter was sure his was no better but he was more concerned with why she thought they were a couple. Right as he was about to ask her if she'd been spying on them, Shawn pulled him back with the hand he was still holding. As if something clicked in their minds, they both pulled away from each other, the red tint of their faces growing to a darker shade of red. "Sorry." Shawn said. Lassiter ignored the comment and Shawn just took that as Lassiter's own way of saying, 'It's okay.'

They were seated in the back and out of everyone's way, meaning they were out of view of the people in the place, but Shawn and Lassiter could see everyone else. It was habit for people who had been through and saw as much as the two men had to find vantage points to watch from. Some called it paranoia. They called it being prepared.

Both the men sat in silence, only breaking it when it was time to order. Surprisingly, Lassiter was the one to break it after the waitress had left. "Listen, if you're uncomfortable with this, I can just take you home."

Shawn perked up. "Uncomfortable? I was just sitting in silence because I wanted to see what you'd do!" He laughed. "It was becoming very difficult though…"

Lassiter just glared at him, but Shawn could see the hint of amusement behind those beautiful blue eyes. "So you're not uncomfortable sitting here with me."

"No. Are you? Cause I can understand being uncomfortable sitting with yourself. Astral Projection is not fun if you ask me." Shawn said.

"No. That's not what I mean… wait. Astral Projection is real?" Lassiter asked.

"Of course it is! Just like visions of the past, present, and future are real. It's just only gypsies are able to do it."

Lassiter nodded. "Huh. Didn't know that." Then, a thought came to mind. "What about telekinesis?"

Shawn tilted his head. "Well that's an odd turn, but yes. It is possible, but only if you're a really powerful gypsy. I've personally never met a gypsy who had enough power to have telekinesis. Why do you ask?"

"Well," Lassiter began, fidgeting with his hands. "I noticed something when you were… in temporary distress."

"You mean, when I was Marshall's hostage?" Shawn said bluntly.

"Yes…" Lassiter sighed. He hated it when Shawn got caught up in things like that.

"What did you see?"

Lassiter sighed again. "I noticed you knocked the gun out of his hand."

"Yeah? Your point Lassie?"

Lassiter looked surprised. "You really don't know?" Shawn shook his head. "You didn't touch the gun. You just flicked your wrist and it flew."

Shawn's eyes widened. "That's not possible… Not for me… I can't… You have to be joking right? Please say you're joking!"

The detective was confused. Why was Shawn so against the idea that he could have telekinesis? "I'm sorry Spencer. I'm just telling you what I saw. What's so bad with the idea that you might have a little bit more power than most?"

Shawn buried his face in his hands. "Shit…" He said. "What am I gonna tell Hera?"

Lassiter was, once again, left in the dark. "Who is Hera?" He asked.

Shawn looked up. "She's my teacher, mentor, whatever you want to call her…" He said. Then, "If you'd like, I can let you meet her. She said she wanted to meet you."

Lassiter scrunched his face up, which Shawn thought was very unlike him. "Why does she want to meet me? Do you talk about me?"

Shawn scratched the back of his head sheepishly. Lassiter thought it was cute. Wait… Spencer, cute? I really must have it bad. He thought.

"Y-yeah. Sometimes you just pop up in passing conversation. And…" He trailed off, not sure whether or not to say what he was going to. He couldn't look Lassiter in the eyes. No way. Shawn Spencer was - dare he say it! Shawn Spencer was embarrassed.

"And?" Lassiter said, thoroughly amused. He'd never seen Shawn so embarrassed before and, honestly? It was endearing.

"And sometimes… I visit Hera with only one thing on my mind."

Lassiter tried and failed to hide a smirk. He found this whole embarrassment thing of Shawn's was just getting funnier by the minute. "And what would that be?"

Shawn looked up, staring right into Lassiter's gorgeous blue eyes. Even though his cheeks were ablaze, he said, "You."

The grin Lassiter was sporting on his face disappeared. His tone now serious, he asked, "Why would you have me and only me on your mind?"

"Well… I…" As Shawn stumbled to find the right words, Lassiter was reeling. This isn't possible. He couldn't have feelings… for me? Could he? No. It has to do with me bothering him or something, making him angry. Lassiter thought. Yeah… That's it…

Meanwhile, Shawn was panicking. I put myself in a bad situation here. I can't tell Lassie! He'd have a heterosexual freak out on me! No… Make something up. Anything! Goddammit Shawn! Come up with something!

But Shawn was drawing a blank. He had nothing. He sighed, resigning himself to defeat. "Lassie…" He began. "I have something I want to tell you…" At this moment, Shawn was thinking that telling gypsy secrets sounded better than what he was about to say.

Then, right on cue, the waitress came up with their food. Oh thank the Fates! Shawn thought happily. I'm saved!

The waitress laid their food down and gave a happy farewell. The two men sat in silence for a while until Lassiter decided to ask Shawn the question that was nagging him. "Shawn?"

"Hmm?" He asked with a mouthful of potatoes.

"Why are you so afraid of having so much power?"

Shawn swallowed his potatoes and began to bite his bottom lip again. "I can't tell you."

Lassiter frowned. "Why not? Is it another gypsy secret?"

"No," Shawn said sternly. "It's mine."

Lassiter was shocked. This side of Shawn he was seeing today was completely different from the Shawn he knew. He never ceases to amaze me. Lassiter thought. "I'm sorry for bringing it up."

Shawn smiled. "Nah. It's cool!"

There he goes. Lassiter thought. Putting up a shield. "So," Lassiter said. "How are you handling the whole Marshall thing?"

Shawn smiled, this time it was genuine. "Actually, pretty well. I know the creep is behind bars and the whole incident is over and done with."

Lassiter winced. He didn't want to have to tell Shawn this, but he figured now was the only time to do it. "Actually… There's something that we found out today. Something that Marshall told us."

Shawn leaned forward. "What? Is it bad?"

Lassiter sighed. "Yeah. It's bad. He said that there's more of him."

Shawn tilted his head to the side. "Like clones?" He laughed. "Dude! Star Wars! All we need are some Jedi forces and we've got this in the bank! Do you think I could be Luke? For some weird reason I thought he was adorable!" Shawn stopped, realized what he said, and corrected himself by saying, "You know, in a manly sort of way…"

Lassiter was too caught up in what he was about to say to realize what Shawn had been saying, and the younger man was grateful. "No, Shawn. Not Star Wars. More like…" Lassiter paused, thinking of a reference Shawn might understand. "More like Star Trek. Remember the movie with the Borg? Where it was Earth versus the Borg?"

"The one where they went back in time?"

"Yeah. Well, it'll be like that, only Earth is the gypsies and the Borg is the renegade group that's apparently formed right under our noses."

Shawn's faced lighted in realization. "You mean… They're out to kill us."

Lassiter's thoughtful expression turned more empathetic. "Yeah. I'm sorry you had to find out this way. I will try my hardest to get all of these ingrates turned in."

Shawn smiled weakly. "I'd rather have heard it from you than anyone else." At the questioning look on Lassiter's face, Shawn explained, "You always tell it how it is. You don't mince words and I'm grateful for that."

Lassiter nodded. "Yeah, no problem."

"So," Shawn drawled. "Do you want to come with me to meet my mentor?"

Lassiter sighed. "I can't. I have work, remember?"

"Oh, come on dude! You need to take a day off or something! Call in sick! Fake an injury! Say you got abducted by the aliens from Mars Attacks! Anything!"

"There are three things that are wrong with that statement. One, don't call me 'dude'. It's debilitating. Two, Mars Attacks was a horrible movie. I would never allow myself to be abducted by a horrible excuse for an alien. Three, crime doesn't stop. I refuse to take a day off to go on a little adventure to meet somebody who probably only asks about me because she's a crazed stalker."

Shawn nodded in agreement as he took his spoon out of his mouth. "Okay, I agree on the crazed part. She seems a little loopy to me sometimes. But a stalker? No. No way. She doesn't even have the time for that."

"How would you know how much time she has?"

Shawn smirked. "Hello? I'm her student, remember? I have to follow her around and get her coffee and stuff."

Lassiter furrowed his brow in confusion. "Coffee? Really? So… what? You're like an intern at Universal Studios?"

Shawn laughed. "Lassie made a joke? Has the world come to an end?" Shawn laughed some more. Lassiter decided he liked the sound of it. It was good to hear him laughing at something he said. It made the older man a little more confident in himself, even if it was a bit at his expense. After Shawn calmed down a bit, he said with a slight grin on his face, "In all seriousness, Lassie. I'm not her coffee chauffer. I really do learn things from her."

"Like what?"

"Like…" Shawn trailed off a bit, wondering what to say without confusing Lassiter. "Things like what it means to be a gypsy. She's taught me about pride and self-confidence. She's taught me how to control my abilities and what to watch out for. Things like that."

"What does it mean to be a gypsy?" Lassiter asked. He was really curious. The truth of the matter was that he was interested in the gypsies. No outsider was allowed to know anything about the culture but the thing that really peaked his interest about gypsies was the fact that Shawn was one of them. He liked Shawn (a little more than he should, he'll admit) ergo, he should know more about his culture.

Shawn's face brightened. "You really want to know?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

Shawn winced. "Well, most people only ask about the abilities. I've gotten lots of questions about that… Just… No one's actually cared enough to ask about the other stuff." Shawn paused and chewed on his bottom lip. Can I tell him that? Will they get mad?

"What's wrong?" Lassiter asked, noticing the worried look on Shawn's face.

Shawn looked up, not realizing he was being stared at expectantly. "Uh… It's just that I don't know if I should tell you." He looked away, hating the fact this all had to be a secret. "You know the law. I can't really tell you anything about the gypsies unless…"

"Unless what?"

"I can't tell you that either." Shawn huffed in frustration. "I don't even know why I invited you to come see Hera. They would get mad if I brought an outsider…"

Lassiter sighed. "Spencer, you don't have to tell me anything. I don't want you to get into trouble with your government or whatever it is that makes your laws."

Shawn smiled. "Thanks Lassie." There was a small silence that followed as Shawn was deep in thought. When he spoke again, it was of determination. "You know, you may not be able to go see Hera, but I can bring her to my place. I can reschedule it for tomorrow night."

"Doesn't she have other students?"

Shawn laughed. "No. She doesn't. No one can put up with her for as long as I have."

Lassiter snorted. "You're probably a lot alike then. Both too damn eccentric to have a care in the world."

Shawn smiled distantly. "Yeah. Something like that." A pause, then, "So? Do you want to?"

Lassiter thought about that. On one hand, he had a lot of paperwork to get done. On the other hand, he would get to spend time with Shawn. "I don't see a problem with that." He said without hesitation.

Shawn smiled brightly. "Yay! Group day!" He clapped.

Lassiter nodded. "Don't get too cheery, Spencer. Something might come up."

Shawn nodded vigorously. "Yeah. I know. I understand the whole cop thing. My dad was a cop, remember?"

"Yes. I know." Lassiter thought about that for a moment. Shawn's father seemed to have no relations with the gypsy people. "Spencer?"

"Hmm?" The younger man said with a mouthful of peas.

"Are you a full-blooded gypsy?"

Shawn, who was not sure where this was going, swallowed his peas and answered, "Yeah. Why does it matter?"

"Because Henry's not a gypsy."

Shawn's eyes widened in fear. What is he afraid of? Lassiter wondered. "And I'm pretty sure your mom is only half."

Shawn averted his gaze. "Well, maybe our genes are different from normal people's. Maybe we receive genes randomly and I got the full-blooded part from my mom."

Lassiter furrowed his brow. "But that's not even possible!"

Shawn smiled. "You overthink things too much, Lassie. Don't worry about it."

Lassiter mentally glared at Shawn. He was going to get to the bottom of this. His detective side was coming out, and they didn't name him the youngest Head Detective in SBPD history for nothing.

The rest of the night was spent discussing trivial matters, such as the Olympics and sports in general. Shawn admitted he really didn't like watching sports because for some awful reason he would get visions of the winning team of the games and the rest of the sports game would be ruined. Lassiter just laughed, saying that maybe Shawn's visions weren't as great as they were made out to be.

Lassiter drove Shawn home. As they pulled up to his apartment, Shawn sighed heavily. Lassiter turned towards Shawn, asking, "What's wrong?"

"I just…" Shawn stopped, trying to find the right words to say. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" Lassiter asked.

"I'm sorry I have to be so vague with everything. I feel like I'm a complete asshole, but if I told you…" Shawn shivered at the thought of what could happen.

Then, just out of nowhere, Shawn laughed. "What is it?" Lassiter asked.

"Did you know that there is a way I could tell you all of this? I never really thought about it until now." Shawn laughed some more. "Not that it could ever happen, but still."

Lassiter crossed his arms. "And what might this miracle be?"

"Well, we'd have to be dating."

Suddenly, the air in the car thickened. The two men stared at each other for some time, both hoping that the other would do something. Finally, Shawn laughed nervously. "Of course, if it were even possible, I'd have to get approval from the higher ups to even tell you anything, and that takes a lot of time…"

What makes you think we couldn't date? Lassiter wanted to say. He kept telling himself, say it! Say it! But he just couldn't find the courage to do so. So, after everything that's happened today, you're just going to let him go?

When Shawn got out of the car after saying his awkward goodbye with Lassiter watching him walk up the stairs and into his apartment, he finally answered his own question. Lassiter sighed. You can face death every day, bring down criminals like no other, but you can't seem to ask somebody out on a date? How pathetic are you?

It was times like this that Lassiter wished he held some of Shawn's carefree behavior. As he drove to his own home he couldn't help but think of all the ways tonight could've been different.