Sorry I took so long to finish this chapter and get it up. I was uninspired for a while and kept getting sick. Warning, this chapter has some gruesome details about a murder case of theirs.
A weary head detective slumped down on one of the locker room benches, ignoring the smirking brunette that settled down opposite him. The first refereeing had been uneventful but fun. Eight hours, four "Lassie Piles", two "Shawn Climbs", one game of "referee chase", and an extra tackle to the tall police officer by a little blond girl with pigtails, latter, and he was officially worn. He had also missed lunch. Indeed, his watch read three thirty. Carlton hadn't even noticed the time fly by until they were sitting in the locker room ready to change and go home.
"I didn't know you liked paintball. I'll have to remember that."
Lassie looked up in surprise, having momentarily forgotten the green-eyed tyrant sitting across from him. He frowned and retrieved his clothes from his locker. He was now glad he had changed out of his nice suit because, though he had not been shot once, he had been effectively mauled by sticky, paint covered children. Slipping by the young man who was making his way to his own locker, he sealed himself into one of the stalls and proceeded to replaced the uniform with his standard black suit.
"Hey, Lassie"
They voice echoed around him, but it had certainly originated from the stall next to him. As he reached for his holster, he heard Shawn gulp.
"What?"
"I just wanted to say, I'm sorry."
Lassiter sighed as he stepped out of the changing room and shrugged into his jacket. He watched Shawn step out slowly as he retied his tie.
"I was the one who told Chief that you needed a vacation."
Lassie didn't look up from his task, Shawn was sure he already knew what was coming next.
"Lassiter I -"
"Drop it Spencer. I already told you it wasn't your fault that we didn't find him before he got to his third victim. I had stopped you from following your gut, or visions, or whatever you want to call it."
He looked down crossly at his tie, which had managed to become infuriatingly knotted. Swiftly he undid it and started to begin again.
"I should have seen it sooner. If I had paid more attention to what you said about that taunting note, then I wouldn't have had to spend precious time trying to convince you."
Lassie closed his eyes and shook his head as if to say he had been too distracted by the note, which was designed for just that, to have been much help to the case. He quickly snapped them back open when the image of the young red-head woman, hanging upside down from hooks in the ceiling, her blood running seamlessly through her hair and dripping down in a surreal fashion, flashed in the back of his mind. Shawn stared at the paled detective and sighed.
"I'm getting kind of hungry. Want to go out or should I cook something back at your place?"
Snapped out of his horrified stupor, Lassiter glared deftly at the fake psychic. Silently he folded his arms over his chest and raised one eyebrow.
"Just what makes you think I'm letting you anywhere near my new house?"
"Oh come on. That birthday thing wasn't even my fault. Jules was the one who went through your desk and called all of those people."
The head detective snorted, obviously not believing that the young brunette had no hand in his misery. Shrugging, Shawn headed towards the exit.
"Fine. Lets go to that one place, with all the green things on the walls and the blarney stone things."
"Shenanigans?"
Lassie slumped lower in his seat as another young waitress walked past him grinning. Shawn shamelessly waved to her, ignoring the blue-eyed man across from his kick him under the table. Disregarding all the things he was taught on proper posture, he had been trying to hide since Shawn had drug him into the tacky restaurant, receiving several dubious looks from waitresses that jumped to conclusions to easily. The food was acceptable, but Shawn had been playing it up ever since one of the bolder servers asked them how long they had been together.
The detective had never, ever, been more embarrassed than the moment Shawn placed his hand seductively on his own and said this was their second date. He quickly reprimanded the young man, informing him that he wasn't going to accept that kind of behavior and made for the door. However, with much apologizing, and a hurried explanation to the staff announcing his remark was simply meant to tease the older man, Shawn had coaxed the furious detective back into his seat.
In spite of the outburst, and subsequent explanation, certain members of the staff took it upon themselves to keep the joke running much to the psychic's delight, and Carlton's discontent. The ordeal went on for far too long in his opinion. Having finished his meal, and paid for both Shawn and his food, he stood to leave, the brunette trailing close behind. It was five in the afternoon.
"Where do you live? I'm dropping you off before I go home."
Pouting with his arms crossed in front of his chest, Shawn answered him. Not half an hour latter, he pulled up in front of Shawn's apartment and unlocked the car doors. Said brunette had opened the door when he stopped, unable to resist one last barb.
"What? No kiss? Don't you know the rules of dating?"
He quickly leapt out of the car and raced into the building, grinning as he heard the outraged shout of Santa Barbra's finest. If anyone had bothered to ask, he would have explained their first date was the incident in the bar that lead to him solving the death of a certain astronomer and giving Lassie all the credit. Ruse or not, he enjoyed how much the date comment had flustered and angered the detective. Grinning triumphantly over his new found power of torture, he unlocked his door and decided now would be a good time to call Gus and tell him about his day.
As soon as Shawn was out of ear shot, Lassiter had begun to laugh so hard tears came to his eyes. While he had been outraged and embarrassed, the initial reaction of the wait staff had been priceless, or rather, just worth the embarrassment that was sure to come in the future. Pulling away, he was slightly glad that he had spent the day the way he had, rather than pumping iron, and hot lead.
When he got home he collapsed sleepily on his tan micro-fiber couch and turned the television on. He decided that was a bad idea when he found it dominated with his and a certain psychic's faces. The last thing he needed at that moment was to be reminded of why he was on that vacation. Standing with a grunt, he decided his time would be better spent with a quick shower and a good book.
Hope you enjoyed that chapter. It was kind of fun to write. Lassiter, may seem a little out of character, but I think I have managed to maintain some of his personality.
