Before you start this chapter, I got a review which said:

"Pardon me for being nitpicky, but skeptical is spelled with a "k." That's all I got. It's too early to comment much on the plot but at least it's keeping with the flow of its predecessor."

I just wanted to explain, because things like this will probably happen again, I've had similar before, that this story is written in English, not American. Therefore, color has a 'u'. Theater is spelled theatre. And it's aeroplane, not airplane. I get that the reviewer was just being a little 'nitpicky', but it's kind of a pet-peeve of mine. I do try and use Americanization's when setting a story in America, such as Mom, not Mum or Mummy. But if it's just a difference in spelling, not pronunciation, then I use the English version every time. Also, I often don't realise which words you guys spell differently, or use in certain contexts. I had a similar review on 'Four O'clock' about saying whinge wasn't American and to use whine instead!

I just wanted to warn you all, and also apologise to the reviewer for the slightly snarky reply I sent in response. Thanks, as always to everybody who reviewed the previous chapter, and I hope you made it through that slightly ridiculous author's note. Sorry. :) It is all in good fun... Ignore me, I'm a crazy English person. Hey, at least you know I pay attention to all comments I get!

Kerb=curb and Span=spun. (I managed to confuse another reviewer with my Englishness!)

Enjoy.


Gus drove to back Shawn's apartment and pulled up to the kerb. Somehow, he wasn't the least surprised to see Lassiter sitting on the door step in the dark.

"Wonderful." Shawn sighed, but he wasn't going to let Lassiter ruin his new good mood.

"You want me to come in?"

"Nah. I can handle Lassie. See you tomorrow?"

"Yeah. I think your Dad will want to see you tomorrow too, though."

"I know. You get to play buffer! Isn't that great?" Shawn jumped out of the car without giving him chance to answer.

Gus pulled away, and Shawn stood there waving till his friend was out of sight.

"I'm sorry." Lassiter said, as Shawn walked straight past him to open his front door. "I just..."

"Come on in." Shawn sighed. Staying mad at him now would be like kicking the puppy Gus bought for Jo. "I saved you some cake." He put the purple box onto the counter and pulled out a slice, grabbing a plate for Lassie.

"You seem... remarkably calm."

"I've had a good day." He busied himself with the coffee pot, and handed Lassiter a fork.

"I take it you didn't go see your father, then."

"I went to see Molly."

"Molly? Wait, diner Molly from the hospital story?" Lassiter looked at him incredulously. His forkful of cake froze, forgotten, between the plate and his mouth.

"Yep, that Molly. She and Jo still run the place. It's where I go when I need cheering up, or when I feel like running."

"Then why didn't you go there that night?" Lassiter asked, and Shawn knew he was talking about the night he'd shown up drunk at Lassiter's at four o'clock in the morning.

"Because... I don't like to go there when I'm at my worst. Before or after my worst, sure. But if I go there when I'm that bad off, Molly'd probably beat me up, and then check me into a mental hospital." He smiled. "Not to mention, they don't deserve me in that state."

"What?" Lassiter stared at Shawn. He put the fork down altogether.

"I know what I'm like. I know how miserable and depressing I get. Molly never did anything to deserve putting up with me whining at her. I love her and Jo, and I don't want to inflict myself on them."

"Shawn... I think they'd be happy to help." Lassiter couldn't meet his eyes as he said it. Shawn took that to mean he was lying. But, in reality, he was embarrassed. Lassiter had been surprised how happy it had made him to have Shawn come to him and not Gus, or Juliet.

"Yeah, well." Shawn shrugged. "I'm sorry about last night. Or was it this morning?"

"Shouldn't I be saying that to you?"

"You can if you like." Shawn smiled briefly. "I didn't mean what I said. I was way out of line. I... I may not be coping as well as I thought."

"Yeah." Lassiter scrubbed his hand through his hair. "And I shouldn't have said I know what you mean. It was stupid."

"God, I need a drink."

"Not with the meds." Lassiter said immediately.

"I know." Shawn pouted. "Coffee?"

"Please."


Shawn poured the coffees and they went over to sit on the sofa, Lassiter bringing his cake with them. They sat in silence, while Lassie had his cake and ate it too, and Shawn tossed a small stress ball from hand to hand. Carlton couldn't hold back a smirk when he realised it was in the shape of a pineapple.

"What kind of a name is Carlton?"

"Excuse me?" Lassiter was surprised by the seeming non-sequitur.

"It suits you, which is odd, because the only other Carlton I know of is Will Smith's cousin on Fresh Prince of Bel Air."

"It's a family name."

"I used to know the whole theme tune to Fresh Prince. I used it to annoy Gus. I wonder if I still do. Now, this is a story all about how, my life got twist-turned upside down. I'd like to take a minute, just sit right there, to tell you how I became the Prince of a town called-"

"I thought you had an eidetic memory." Lassiter interrupted. Loudly.

"I do, but it's more for things I've seen than things I've heard, although my audio memory is better than most. Now my Mom, she can remember anything you say to her."

"Yeah. She told me. And I think you mentioned it, too. "

"So, do you think your Mom was a Fresh Prince fan?"

"You're babbling." Lassie smiled.

"I know, it's like my default setting." Shawn replied. He knew that he was chattering away about nothing. He wanted to say something, to explain... but it was difficult. So, instead he was giving nonsensical ramblings about TV shows starring Will Smith. He knew that the show wasn't old enough to have a bearing on Lassie's name, but he'd just latched onto it as something to distract them both.


There was a long gap in the conversation. Long enough for the coffee to be drunk, and a fresh pot to boil. Lassie doctored his with several creams and sugars, and took a sip, but Shawn merely held his between his palms. He stared into the dark brown depths as though the mug held the answer to the meaning of life, the universe and everything. It was just getting to the point where the silence was uncomfortable, when Shawn spoke.

"It's not the first time."

"Excuse me?"

"Rape. Although he didn't get as far this time, and I am thankful for that. It's just... it brings back memories."

"You were raped before?" Lassiter's hands had become fists, the more he learned about Shawn, the more in awe of him he was. He watched as Shawn wrapped his arms around his torso in a self-hug and refused to meet the Detective's eyes.

"Yeah. Gus knows, but no one else. I didn't even report it. I tried, I got to the station and everything, but..." He shrugged.

"Do you... want to talk about it?"

"No. Not really."

"Okay."

"I just... did you know that statistically speaking people who have been raped once are more likely to be assaulted again? No one can figure out why."

"Shawn..."

"I thought I was over it. I thought I'd come to terms with it and put it behind me, but I'm having nightmares again."

"Well, don't hate me for saying so, but that's perfectly understandable."

"Yeah. I know." He scrubbed a hand through his hair, making it stand up all over the place. "I just thought... I wanted it all to be over. I thought it was all over. I don't want to go back to that place in my head." He began pacing with nervous energy.

Lassiter laughed a little, and it was a hollow, sad sound.

"What?" Shawn was immediately on the defensive, wrapping his arms back around his torso.

"Shawn, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to laugh, it's just... you seem to be so happy, and you always talk about your past with such... I don't know... excitement. But the more I learn about you as a real human being, the more I'm shocked you're not on anti-depressants."

"Yeah. I'm pretty good at compartmentalisation." He gave an honest to God grin. Real and full of humour, if slightly wistful, and it actually hurt Lassiter to see it.

"You don't have to hide with me." He said. "Wasn't that the point of all this? What you wanted?"

"Yeah, I guess." Shawn shrugged and looked away.


There was a noise outside.

They both froze. Lassiter drew his gun, and Shawn grabbed his own from a draw in the coffee table. His mother was a psychologist, specialising in police officers, so Shawn knew that Hyper-vigilance was a sign of Post traumatic Stress Disorder.

Just because I know it's a symptom, doesn't mean I can stop exhibiting it. Shawn thought ruefully, as he considered how he needed to keep his guns close, and had deliberately sat facing the door.

Lassiter frowned as Shawn checked and readied his weapon, mourning for the loss of that small bit of innocence.

It could have been anything. It didn't have to be something sinister, but there was a cold feeling in Lassiter's gut, and the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. He rarely trusted his instincts, knowing that evidence makes a case, not guts. But he knew, he knew with the same certainty he'd had that the astronomer had been murdered, that there was something wrong. Well, if it was them he'd make them regret it.

They went to the front door, and stood, one either side of it. Lassiter made a series of hand gestures, the ones Henry had drilled Shawn in. They would go out on the count of three, Shawn left, Lassiter right.

Carlton threw open the door and they burst through it, guns first.

There was no one there.

They did a perimeter search, carefully checking everywhere. But it was all clear. When they had completed a full circuit of the exterior of the old dry cleaners Shawn was renting, Lassiter looked at Shawn and shrugged helplessly. He was about to say they were being paranoid and overreacting, suggest that they should go back inside, when there was a noise behind them. Shawn span around, gun pointed inexorably at the source of the noise, Lassiter only a split second behind him.

"Meow?"

There was a gunshot and the smell of cordite on the air.


Muhahahahahaha!

Sorry, I know it's a little shorter than the others.