9.
Shawn waited five minutes before he called Gus. He timed it. Gus made minor protest, talked about how he had to be at work at ten, but he must have heard something in Shawn's voice, because he didn't even wait for the inevitable 80's reference before agreeing to come over.
Shawn was humming "Angel of the Morning" when Gus came into the kitchen. He took one look at the set-up and scowled.
"Okay, that table is set for two," Gus said. "And it looks like someone was already eating there."
"Great observational skills, buddy!" Shawn said as cheerfully as he could manage. "I'm honestly proud of you."
"What happened after I left last night?"
"Yeah, uh… we're not talking about that."
"Then why am I here, Shawn?"
The police scanner chose that moment to crackle to life, Lassiter's voice announcing their approach of a building not ten minutes away.
"That's why."
When they arrived Lassiter and O'Hara were talking to an older woman wrapped in a blanket. Gus started to walk toward them, but Shawn grabbed the back of his shirt and yanked him back behind the closest patrol car.
"Shawn-"
"Shh," Shawn hissed.
"We're not on the case?" Gus whispered.
"Not exactly."
"Then why are we here?"
"Look, that asshole Powers got bailed out this morning. Just shush, and listen."
The woman was crying. It was hard to make out what she was saying, but from that and the way the police were lined up, Shawn gathered that Powers had locked himself in the shop. Shawn knew this place, it had been a used bookstore until about a month ago, and was now full of empty shelves and dust.
Peering around the car, Shawn realized no one was in the store next to it, a clothing boutique. It wasn't open yet, but there was a door between the two. Powers could sneak into the other store, and when the cops raided the bookstore they wouldn't find him and think he'd escaped somehow. They would leave, giving him a chance to really escape.
He explained this all to Gus, in a hissing whisper, and Gus stared at him.
"Well?"
"What?"
"Tell the cops!"
"I can't."
"What? Why not?"
"I just can't! I can't talk to him right now."
"Him? Him who?"
"I've got an idea. Come on." They snuck around the store the long way, finding the back entrance of the clothing store shut with a combination lock.
"Think you can handle it?"
"I am not going in there."
"Oh, so you can't."
"Please. Of course I can. But I'm not going in there."
"You don't have to."
"And neither are you."
"Look, I'll be fine."
"You'll be dead!"
"I have to go in there, Gus," he said firmly. "I have to go in there, and I have to stop him from getting away. I have to."
"Why you? You're not a cop, Shawn, you're a detective. Running in to confront a killer is- is suicide!"
"I'm doing this. With or without your help."
They stared each other down.
Gus blinked first. "What the hell happened last night?"
"I'll tell you if I live."
Gus unlocked the door, and Shawn slipped inside.
***
No one knew anything was wrong until the gunshot. And then everyone with a badge was moving before they even heard the scream. High-pitched, girlish, but the tones were familiar.
"Shit," Lassiter muttered. "That sounded like Guster."
"You think they're in there?" O'Hara exclaimed.
Lassiter didn't answer her, charging ahead of the uniforms and only barely managing to stop himself from bursting in alone.
Voices could be heard inside, faint. Someone was shouting, but there were no more gunshots, no more screams. As soon as he saw O'Hara brace herself against the wall behind him, Lassiter kicked in the door.
"Stay out!" someone screamed. Lassiter froze, fearing the worst. "Shut that door!" He started to turn, but O'Hara beat him to it. "Come where I can see you!"
Slowly they walked forward. The stacks of books made it hard to see, but there was a door open on one side, letting light in. Going against all his training, Lassiter's eyes swept the floor first, looking for anyone lying there. Thankfully all he saw were three pairs of feet, and his eyes moved up to find Guster standing just inside the doorway, looking terrified, Powers with a gun waving wildly, and Shawn standing between them, unhurt.
Relief like a physical blow rushed through Lassiter. His knees nearly buckled.
"Mr. Powers," he heard O'Hara say, "you don't want to make things worse for yourself."
And thank god she was on the ball. Damn, he'd known things were going to be awkward, but now his feelings for Shawn were interfering with his job. All he could think about was; what if he'd died? What if he did something stupid, the way he always did, and this time his charm and con skills weren't enough to get him out of it? What if… What if…
"Drop your guns," Powers ordered. "Drop them!"
They both obeyed.
"I'm walking out of here. I'm walking out of here, and you're all staying put, unless you want Miss Cleo here dead."
"Miss Cleo, really?" Shawn protested.
"We can't let you do that," Lassiter said darkly. "You killed two women, you've threatened a civilian-"
"I'll do a lot more than threaten!" He swung his gun around to point at Lassiter. "You tell those cops outside I'm walking out of here."
"I don't think so."
"Don't you care what happens to your civilian!"
"If you think I'm going to let you hurt him, you're very much mistaken."
"What about you then?" Powers grinned suddenly. "Will you let me hurt you?"
He had just enough time to register the tightening of Powers' hand, before Shawn jumped forward and shouted "No!" Powers stumbled as Shawn crashed into him, and the gun went off into the ceiling. He shoved him away, steadied the gun.
Three voices screamed, "Shawn!"
No one else was close enough to stop him. The gun went off and Shawn fell backward, and Lassiter tackled Powers to the ground so hard he heard something crack. He bashed his head into the hardwood floor once for good measure, then cuffed him far tighter than he needed to.
He could see, out of the corner of his eye, Guster and O'Hara bending over Shawn, but he was afraid to look until he heard the groan.
"Is it bad?" Shawn asked weakly.
"He barely gazed you," O'Hara said, trying to mask her relief. "Why did you fall over?"
"I think I lost my balance. It felt like he shot me."
Lassiter climbed off Powers at the same time as Guster helped Shawn to his feet. His left arm was bleeding through the sleeve, but he seemed to be able to move it all right. He was fine. He was fine.
Shawn smiled that stupid beautiful smile. "You were worried."
"Do not do something that suicidal again."
"You were worried."
"Of course I was worried!"
"You care." Lassiter said nothing, and Shawn smiled wider. "You care."
Lassiter took three steps forward, cupped Shawn's face in his hands, and kissed him. Shawn wrapped his good arm around his waist and kissed back eagerly. Guster was jabbering something, and O'Hara was sighing, but for a brief second Lassiter didn't care what anyone thought of him, only that Shawn was here, and safe, and kissing him.
"Was that a mistake too?" Shawn asked breathlessly.
"Not that," he said. "Only leaving."
"I'm never letting you live that down."
"Stop talking."
"Make me."
Lassiter bent to kiss him again, but O'Hara cleared her throat. "Someone will be wondering what's with all the shooting in here."
"Oh. Right." They broke apart reluctantly. "Someone book the mom too. I don't want this to happen again."
"We'll handle it." She shooed them all toward the door. "Why don't you accompany Shawn to the emergency room, and I'll handle the paperwork."
"Are you sure you don't-"
"I can handle it."
"You can call me if you need-"
"I will."
They stepped out into the sunlight, Shawn still beaming and Lassiter having to fight very hard not to do the same.
"I have come to the conclusion that getting shot sucks, but it sure does make people be nice to you."
"Is it worth it?"
"This time? Absolutely."
