[[Author's Notes:

I'm so glad I'm getting such a positive reaction to this! I was afraid it would be a bit dark for everyone's taste, but the amazing fmapreshwab convinced me to go for it, and I'm glad she did!

I'm writing a blatant synesthetic Carlton here, just in case you were wondering where all the misplaced color cues were coming from. No one asked outright, but I thought I'd explain anyway…! Synesthesia is a condition in the brain where senses overlap and there are – usually visual – cues associated with other sensory input, like hearing or touching or whatnot. It's a fascinating condition, usually associated with poets, artists, and geniuses. And we know which of the three Carlton is.

Again, thank you to my reviewers!

xxSpade's Ace: thank you! Smut without smut is one of my specialties. ;)

torchil: That is not where this is going, but that would be a GREAT story idea! Keep reading, I hope you like where this is headed.

Amberlynn1991: more, you say? Here you go!

Islashlove: you're totally right, he should have known, but he has a certain obliviousness to all things gay, at least in this story. That'll be explained in a little bit. Just their luck indeed, bwa ha ha.

Shassiness: I don't think I'm spoiling too much when I say that the person with the camera has so much more malice in mind than ruining a relationship. ;) Thank you, and please keep reading.

And thanks to my dearest fmapreshwab, for encouraging and being awesome.

All that said, off to ch.3!]]

"I've got to call for backup," says Carlton, and Spencer says "They can't find me here," and their two voices overlap and Spencer looks stricken.

Gord is still wagging his tail; Spencer drops to his knees again – and Carlton marvels at how easily he does that in those pants. He loops one arm around Gord, murmurs "Good Dog," and Carlton tries not to be envious that it was the canine that was chosen as a source of comfort.

He clears his throat, a bit awkwardly. "You can go home. I won't tell them you were here. I'll just say I was walking the dog, he needed to run, he took me to the corpse like he's trained to do. Easy as that."

"Really? You'd lie for me?" Spencer's back on his feet and his eyes are shining and Carlton can't help it: he reaches out, cups the other man's face in his hands and kisses him, softly, on the lips. It's just meant to be a token, and so he's surprised to feel Spencer's arms twining around him, surprised when the kiss is deepened, and it's blue and gold and breathless.

"What was that for?" Spencer asks finally, and Carlton shrugs.

"Because you needed it," he says, finally, and reaches for his cellphone. "Go, now, I've got to call for backup. Um, if you've got any friends who you think might need to get out of here before the cops…"

Spencer laughs. "Friends? Here? You've got a lot to learn, Lassidear." He grins, salutes the other man, and takes off at a run as Carlton dials the phone.

Juliet is the first to show up, her wavy hair like a disheveled halo around her head and Carlton is glad to see her: she's his partner, she's his strength, she's one of about three people on the planet he actually trusts. (And he's glad too that Shawn has already gone: they've reached an awkward sort of friendship again, a delicate balance since the end of their relationship, but situations involving the two of them are always touchy.) And knowing that their relationship is long dead – why, Carlton wonders, does he still feel guilty, about the kiss, about what went on in the woods, and he's glad the darkness camouflages his blushes.

"What happened?" she asks, wide-eyed, smelling of mouthwash and tic-tacs. "Carlton…" and in a stage whisper. "Do you know what kind of place this is?"

"I got the idea during the blow-job," he mutters, and it's a truth that's just dry enough to come off as a lie, just as he likes it.

"Oh! Carlton!" she's taken aback, and then she smiles. "I'm sorry, it's just…there's certain things you always seem so…oblivious…to. Like – I'd expect you to come in and arrest people for loitering, not just calmly walk your dog."

"First, he's still Buzz's dog." Carlton sighs. "He wouldn't calm down, he wouldn't shut up, so I decided he needed a run and I wasn't about to go across town to the place Buzz mentioned. I figured I could blend into the crowd, and turn a blind eye, but there's no turning a blind eye to this." He gestures to the corpse, and shudders, and Juliet puts a silent hand on his shoulder.

Back at the station, hours later, it's Juliet who brings him coffee just how he likes it, extra cream extra sugar, and murmurs "Do you want the good news or the bad news?"

Carlton takes his head in his hands, glares at her over the top rim of the coffee mug. "Both."

"They want us to go out to see another body."

"Normally this would thrill me," he mutters, cupping a hand to hide a yawn. "Let's go."