Lassiter rubs his jaw gingerly, trying to ignore the throbbing as he finishes filling out his paperwork. The day before, he had chased a carjacker who resisted arrest and slugged him in the jaw. Lassiter had responded by felling his assailant with one punch, a satisfying end to the incident, but now his jaw hurts like a bitch.

Filling out the report of the incident conjures up a memory of Spencer sitting across from his desk hours after saving O'Hara's ex-boyfriend Scott from the murderous federal marshal that was planning to kill him. Spencer had been there for Lassiter to officially take his statement, which had devolved into him excitedly recounting the details of the physical altercation that took place before the police arrived.

"…and then I did this totally cool flippy thing. Like, I was flat on my back and then iwhoosh/i, I was on my feet." He made what Lassiter imagined was supposed to be an identical flippy motion with his hand. "I'd do it for you again now, but I wouldn't want you to swoon at my feet right here at the station. Also, I have a feeling adrenaline might have played a part."

Lassiter had been looking over the medical report on Marshal Wayne while Spencer talked, and one detail made him pause.

"He had teeth marks on his ankle?"

"Uh, I might have bit him while we were fighting" Spencer at least had the good grace to look embarrassed.

"You bit him on the ankle?" Lassiter asked, his eyebrows raised in disbelief.

"It's possible I also slapped him. Feel free to leave that out of the report."

"No way. I want it on record that you fight like a ten year old girl."

Lassiter finished writing and thrust the statement in front of Spencer.

"Sign."

Spencer glanced it over, then scribbled his name at the bottom of the page, but instead of handing it back over the desk, he had stood up and walked behind Lassiter's chair, coming to stand right behind him. He leaned over Lassiter's shoulder, way too close, and carefully set the paperwork down in front of him, resting a hand on the desk as he lowered himself so that his mouth was even with Lassiter's ear.

"What can I say, Lassie? I'm a loverrrr, not a fighterrrrr," he said, rolling his rs like he was still on that stupid telenovela. The puff of air on Lassiter's ear made him twitch.

Spencer slapped his hand down on the desk as he straightened and moved away, talking loudly.
"I think I deserve a burrito after today! Lassie, you wanna buy me a burrito?"

"No."

Spencer smirked at him. "Fine. I'll find someone else to fill my delicious nutritional needs. Hey Buzz, you up for lunch?" He sauntered away, and Lassiter had most definitely not been watching his ass as he went.

Lassiter is interrupted from his reverie by the sound of his name being called.

"Detective Lassiter, can I see you in my office please?"

Chief Vick gestures for him to close the door as he walks in, and Lassiter braces himself.
"Is this about what happened with Swanson yesterday? Look, I'm sorry I yelled, but if he can't gather evidence without –"

Vick looks startled. "What? No, Swanson didn't say anything."

"Oh." Lassiter drops into the chair in front of her desk. "Then what's this about?"

"Carlton, have you considered taking some time off?" she holds up her hand to stop him from interrupting, because he's already sputtering in outrage. "It's been a rough year for all of us, but you've had the brunt of it. You and Detective O'Hara had a few bumps along the way, but you were great partners, and I know you were close, and now she's gone. You and Henry occasionally went fishing together, to say nothing of the fact that you worked together, but you didn't take any time off at all after he died. And of course, you worked more frequently with Shawn and Mr. Guster than any other detective in the precinct, and despite the fact that they weren't officially employees of the department, I know everyone around here has felt their absence very strongly. I know you and Mr. Spencer had a…tumultuous… relationship, but I think you probably miss him. I know I do."

Shit, shit, shit, Lassiter thinks. He needs work, because without it he doesn't know what he would do with himself.

"I took a week off when Marlowe moved in!" he says triumphantly.

"And then you worked overtime during the weeks after she left. I just think you could use a vacation, Carlton. You haven't taken any real time off in several years, and you have more than four months worth of leave saved up. Now might be good opportunity to consider using some of it. Swanson didn't say anything about yesterday, but I've had other officers comment on how volatile you've been lately. I know that I need to find you a new partner, but frankly, I'm reluctant to team you up with anyone right now. I think you'd scare them away."

Lassiter takes a deep breath to steady himself before speaking. "Chief, I know I've been a little short-tempered lately. You're right, it's been a rough year, but I'd prefer not to use any of my vacation time right now. I'll work on controlling my temper, okay? Please Karen, I'd like to work. And don't worry about getting me a new partner just yet. I'll be okay on my own for a while."

He hates that he sounds like he's begging, but he's prepared to do anything if it will make her listen to him.

She hesitates, then nods. "Fine. But please reconsider. I need you at the top of your game, Carlton, and you need a partner. This department has suffered too many losses lately. The last thing I want is for my head detective to burn out."

Lassiter thanks the Chief and leaves as quickly as he can. Goes home and pours himself a drink. He's drinking too much lately, he knows it, but nothing else dulls the edges of his loneliness. The thought of taking time off from work, of the vast acres of time that would open up to him without his job, scares him. What would he do on a vacation? Visit his mother? The thought makes him shudder and finish the whiskey in one gulp.

Vick is right though, he's got to reign himself in. He can't keep snapping at the other detectives and officers, and he can't keep drinking by himself at home every night. It's with that thought in mind that he goes the next night to the bar where he had drinks with Guster before, because having drinks with someone else has got to be better than drinking alone, right? Even though he came specifically looking for Gus, it's almost a surprise to find him there again.

"One or two nights a week," Guster replies with a shrug when Lassiter asks him how often he comes here. "My apartment is just…it's too quiet sometimes, you know?"

Lassiter knows.

"Don't get me wrong," Gus hastens to add "I keep busy. I volunteer at the fire department twice a month, I go to tap class every week, I have my book club meetings, and next month I'm taking a class in building dioramas. Plus, work is keeping me busy with the promotion and all."

Lassiter supposes the subtext of this is that Guster is trying to convince himself that he's doing fine without Shawn around, but in his opinion, the evidence is pretty pathetic. Not that he has any room to judge.

"Have you heard from Spencer lately?" he asks, his curiosity getting the better of him.

"Another postcard. This time from some sort of dinosaur theme park in Virginia."

"Does he say anything on these postcards?"

"Just, wish you were here, I'm doing fine. Nothing else."

"Have you ever thought about just going to the most recent place he sent a postcard from and trying to find him?"

Guster shakes his head "I think he would already be gone by the time I could get there. I doubt that he stays in one place for very long."

"What does he do for money?"

"You've read his resume, haven't you? He picks up odd jobs all along the way. Bartending, waiting tables. He's a certified lifeguard, and I think he's worked in something like half of the baseball stadiums in the country."

Lassiter shakes his head "I can't imagine living like that."

"No man, me neither. Shawn likes the distraction, though. Learning new things, meeting new people. It probably keeps him from thinking too much about his dad."

"You know, the day I met him, he told me that he hated his father."

"He did, for a long time. Look, I respected Mr. Spencer. He was a big influence on me as a kid, and I know he tried to do right by Shawn. But he put so much pressure on him to become like, a supercop or something. Shawn's never quite gotten over that." Gus shakes his head "Dude, why are we talking about this? How is everyone at the station? How's Juliet?"

"O'Hara isn't with the SBPD anymore," Lassiter replies, startled to realize that Guster isn't aware of his former partner's new job. "She took a job with the U.S. Marshals."

"Holy shit!" Gus gasps, which is almost funny because Lassiter could probably count on one hand the number of times he's heard Guster swear. "Does that mean you have a new partner?"

"Not yet."

"I know it's hard, working alone when you're used to having a partner."

Lassiter doesn't reply, just takes another drink of his beer, but he's thinking that what it is, is damn lonely. He knows that six years ago he never would have believed that he would be anything but relieved to be rid of his obnoxiously perky partner and the abrasively weird duo from the fake psychic detective agency, but the truth is that he misses working with them all like crazy. They were a team. An argumentative, occasionally dysfunctional team, but a team nonetheless.

Meeting Guster for drinks becomes a semi-regular occurrence over the next few weeks. While the two of them don't have a lot in common, they do at least know some of the same people. So Lassiter is able to tell Gus that Buzz's wife is expecting their first baby, and how Chief Vick is handling the fact that her daughter is old enough to start kindergarten, and that Woody has started a blog dedicated to strange stomach contents he's found when conducting autopsies. Gus talks about some of the weirder doctors on his route and, after a few drinks, childhood memories of hanging out with Shawn. After a few more drinks he'll even open up about some of the cases he and Shawn had worked on alongside Lassiter, and while he doesn't give away any details of how Shawn worked his "psychic" magic, he does let slip that he's the half of the duo adept at lock-picking and safe-cracking. Lassiter knows that as an officer of the law he should be concerned about this revelation, but really he's just surprised.

"Guster, don't take this the wrong way, but that seems like an out-of-character hobby for you to take up. You don't even drive over the speed limit!"

Gus sniffs. "Hmmph. I'll have you know, Danger is my middle name." He pauses "Also, I like puzzles. And being better than Shawn at something."

Lassiter never imagined the two of them might become something approaching friends, but the thing is, he has this weird, indefensible urge to talk about Spencer, and Gus is the one person he can indulge in that with.

"Shawn would have made a good Han Solo" Lassiter observes blearily one night, thinking back to the Halloween picture in Shawn's bedroom, and how many beers has he had, anyway?

Fortunately, Gus is well-versed in following non-sequiters, and he shakes his head "Nah, Shawn is Luke Skywalker, but don't tell him I said that. Father issues, spooky mental powers – "

"He's not psychic! And don't tell me he uses the Force."

"Whatever. How many cases did he solve? Anyway, mental powers, the way he gets restless and leaves home." Gus clears his throat before he gets anymore maudlin. "You're Han Solo, Lassie. You're the one who rushes in at the last minute with the Millenium Falcon and saves the day."

Lassiter narrows his eyes, secretly incredibly flattered to be compared to Han Solo, and asks "Does that mean that O'Hara is Chewbacca because she was my partner? Or is she Princess Leia because she's the girl?" He gapes slightly thinking back to the night he and O'Hara had kissed on her couch. "If she's Leia, does that mean that she and I should end up together?"

Guster reaches out to take Lassiter's beer bottle away. "I am cutting you off, man. Juliet is Leia, not because she's the girl, but because she would totally not let Darth Vader intimidate her, and she would strangle Jabba the Hut with chains without breaking a sweat. And no, her being Leia doesn't mean that you end up with her. In this version of the story, I think Han Solo has the hots for Luke Skywalker."

Gus stands up before Lassiter can react to that pronouncement. "Excuse me. I have to go pee now."

When Gus comes back to the table a few minutes later, looking slightly more sober and more than slightly wary, Lassiter is drinking from a glass of water and giving the tabletop more thoughtful consideration than it probably deserves.

"You know who you are?" He asks abruptly, as Gus sits down carefully. "You're the robots. The ones who are always following Luke around trying to keep him out of trouble."

Gus is so outraged that he forgets all about any embarrassing accusations he might have flung around mere minutes before.

"You did not just compare me to C3PO! I am not C3PO, Lassiter! Maaaaaybe R2D2. He was badass."

Privately, Lassiter thinks that the comparison to C3PO is dead-on: Guster and the robot are both loyal, cautious, and fussy, and he can imagine C3PO reacting exactly the way Gus does in the morgue.

Instead of pointing all this out, he says "What did you mean by that? What you said before you went to the bathroom?"

Guster shifts uncomfortably in his chair and doesn't meet Lassiter's eyes. "Dude. Lassie. I'm really drunk right now. I don't even remember what I said."

Lassiter huffs out an exasperated breath. "Yes you do. I'm not going to shoot you, Guster. Just tell me what you meant."

"What about punching me? Are you going to punch me? Because if I start talking about this, I think you might."

"No punching either," Lassiter promises. "Why would you say that, um, Han Solo has the hots for Luke Skywalker?"

Gus looks up, as if beseeching the heavens for help, but the only thing above him is the dingy ceiling of the bar they're in, and it's no help at all. He takes a restorative gulp of his beer before speaking.

"Look, you know Shawn had, like, a massive crush on you for years."

Lassiter is baffled. "WHAT? How could I possibly have known that?"

"Uh uh. No. No bullshit. If we're actually going to discuss this, and believe me, I'd be happier if we didn't, then you can't act all oblivious. You had to have known. Shawn iliterally/i threw himself at you. He sat in your lap, smacked you on the ass, groped you at every possible opportunity. He solved cases for you. I've never seen him crush on anyone for as long as he did you, but he finally convinced himself that either he had read you wrong and you were so straight that you missed all of his ridiculously obvious hints, or that you just weren't interested."

"But…but…" Lassiter is flailing, both mentally and literally, waving his hands in (somewhat drunken) consternation "Spencer is STRAIGHT. What about O'Hara? Or that little schoolteacher he dated? Or the COUNTLESS women I watched him flirt with over the years? And," he added, jabbing a finger in Gus's direction, "if he's gay, then why aren't the two of you married already?"

Gus rolls his eyes. "Hello, because I'M straight? Don't let the pastels fool you. I just know what makes me look good. Anyway, Shawn isn't gay so much as…open to every possibility. The way he explained it to me is that he's attracted to personalities, not gender. Also, if you'd been paying attention over the years, you would have noticed him flirting with plenty of guys. I mean, you've seen him with Desperaeux, right?"

Lassiter boggles at Gus. "So wait, you're saying he's attracted to my ipersonality/i?"

"Dude, I don't get it either. The point is, he never just came out and told you because he was afraid that if he was misreading your signals, you might shoot him. Or at the very least, it might make working with you awkward. So he moved on to Juliet. Which," Gus adds hastily "is not to say that what he had with Juliet wasn't one hundred percent real. It absolutely was. I'm just saying that it probably would never have developed if you had been clearer about reciprocating his interest."

Lassiter is still reeling, but he forces himself to focus on what Guster is saying. "Okay, so what makes you so sure that I was 'reciprocating' at all?" He makes little air quotes around "reciprocating", confirming both to himself and Gus that he's still kind of drunk.

"Carlton. Come on. The groping wasn't all one-sided. No one manhandles another person as much as you did Shawn unless you want to be touching him, and it seemed like you wanted to be touching him A LOT. There was also the fact that you always let Shawn get away with practically fondling you whenever he felt like it. It was almost as if you liked it. Also, for someone that you claimed not to trust, when it came to big things in your life, like getting you off a murder rap, or finding out who was harassing Sheriff Hank, you seemed to have no problem trusting him at all. But there was more than just that; Shawn seemed to think that the two of you had, you know…"

"Chemistry" Lassiter says softly, thinking back to what Juliet had said the night of her going away party.

"Exactly. I was never as sure about how you felt as Shawn was, at least not until last year."

Lassiter looks at him sharply. "Last year? What did I do last year to make you think that I was…" he hesitates, then chokes out "interested in Spencer?"

Gus sighs. "Remember your promise not to shoot and/or punch me, okay? It was Marlowe."

"What about her? I assumed you had reasonable observational skills Guster, but in case you failed to notice, she's a woman. And she's nothing like Spencer."

"Lassie, you found out that Shawn and Jules were dating, and within what, like two weeks, you were diving headfirst into a serious relationship with a woman you barely knew. It was the most obvious rebound I've ever seen. You've hardly dated anyone since your wife divorced you, but as soon as you heard Shawn say that he loved Juliet, it was like you couldn't get into a relationship fast enough.

And as for Marlowe not being anything like Shawn? Dude, is it a coincidence that the woman you ended up with at that time was deceiving you? That you, Mr. Law-and-Order, fell for a lady who was lying to you when you met her? Right after finding out that Shawn was unavailable, when your biggest beef with him was that he was lying about being psychic? Don't mock my observational skills, Lassiter. I know what I saw."

"I cared about Marlowe! I thought I was in love with her."

Gus nods sadly. "I know you did. Even now though Lassie, you're hanging out with me so that we can talk about Shawn. Don't get me wrong! I'm glad you're here. It's nice being around someone who misses him as much as I do."

Lassiter scowls. "I don't even know why we're talking about this. None of it matters now. Spencer is gone, and even if he were here, he'd be with O'Hara. Also, he can be as open-minded or whatever as he wants, but I like women. I was married to one, remember? And sure, maybe there was some…experimentation when I was in college, a couple of one-night stands, a little fooling around, but that's what college is for, right? To try different things?"

"Um, sure," Gus replies, looking distinctly uncomfortable "For the record, I did not try those sort of things when I was in college, but I guess some people do." He shrugs "Theoretically, if you and Shawn ever had gotten together, you would probably have killed each other within a matter of hours, but I don't know. Maybe you're just different enough that you could have made each other happy. That's all I want for Shawn – for all of us – is some happiness."

Lassiter looks into the empty glass sitting in front of him and sighs. "Guster, I don't know if there's any such thing."

Later, in bed, he's still mulling over this conversation. Specifically, he's thinking about how and why he misses Spencer. Shawn has been gone for more than six months now, and Lassiter finds it a little disturbing how much he still thinks of the other man. It has to be because he's still mildly obsessed with Spencer's phenomenal case-solve rate. That's the only explanation. The conversation with Guster earlier tonight had been ludicrous and never would have happened if Lassiter hadn't been drunk. And yeah, okay, maybe he finds himself revisiting encounters between them more frequently than he would like, Shawn grabbing him while in the throes of a "vision", touching his face, teasing him when he was wrong, and always, always watching him with his bright, interested eyes.

Lassiter has known since high school that he wasn't exactly completely straight, and if he's being perfectly honest maybe Spencer has featured in a few (okay, more than a few) late night masturbatory fantasies, but fantasizing about someone in order to get off and actually wanting that person in reality are two different things. He could never be genuinely attracted to a lying little conman like Spencer, and he's sure he'll stop wasting time thinking about him soon. Any day now.