Starting with Shawn again. And we get a teasing hint of smut here. Also, I couldn't decide whose perspective would be more fun, so I did the scene from both. I don't plan on making this a habit, because I know that can get tedious if not done well.
Also, I've never touched a gun in my life, let alone been to a shooting range, so everything here is my best effort/guess at the subject. Please forgive inaccuracies.
(-)
Shawn hadn't been entirely honest with the detective. He hadn't had the Tortoise Hunt case fall into his lap. After brainstorming with a reluctant Gus on dates-that-didn't-seem-like-romantic-dates ideas, he had decided on appealing to Lassie's love of guns.
But, as he had discovered, the detective responded better when they were alone. So the question became how to find an empty gun range. He ended up visiting three different ones before he found an opportunity to win the favor and trust of the owner so he could have access after it was closed. Nelson was a nice guy, and when Shawn spotted the "Missing Tortoise" poster, he knew he had an in.
After Lassie had gone through a couple of clips and target sheets, he looked over at Shawn. "I thought you could shoot."
"Well, I can, but not without a gun. Even I'm not that good. And since I don't own a gun and the loaners are locked up…"
"You aren't touching my gun, Spencer." It was so hard not to point out the innuendo, especially when Shawn wanted his hands all over Lassiter's "gun".
The psychic rolled his eyes and held out his hand. "Come on, a little trust, Lassie. You'll be watching the whole time."
The detective just stared at him for far too long before reluctantly placing his gun in Shawn's hand. He went to bring the target sheet in and put up a new one, but Shawn stopped him. "Just leave it." Lassie's ex-girlfriend/ex-partner had been impressed with this trick, and he wanted to impress the hell out of the older man.
It was harder to do, because Lassie was a better shot than she had been, so he had a tight grouping at the center. He still managed to turn every bullet hole into the outline of an eight. He watched out of the corner of his eye as he brought the sheet in. The detective was first suspicious, then as it came closer, his eyes widened and his mouth fell open.
"Now do you think I'm experienced enough to handle your gun?" He couldn't help himself. And a glance downward had his jaw dropping. Lassie was hard. It took a lot of control not to respond in kind and do something about it. He couldn't come on too strong; when it came to relationships, Lassie was like a beaten dog. The detective needed careful handling. But he couldn't leave it alone entirely.
"Sooo, looks like you're really enjoying our man-date." A harmless enough observation.
Mouth closing, Lassie's head snapped to look at him. "Well, yeah." There was mild panic in that look.
It was going to be tricky to tell how far he could push this. It was too good an opportunity to ignore; this was evidence that the detective had some attraction to Shawn. But he didn't even know how comfortable Lassie was with being attracted to men, let alone him. "You're really enjoying it." His eyes darted downward and back up to illustrate his point.
Lassie went so red so fast Shawn would have believed his skin had been dyed. "It's not-! I mean-"
"Calm down, Lassie. I'd be more surprised if guns didn't turn you on. It's not a big deal." Probably best to give him an out. Shawn was sure now that he'd find more opportunities to become intimate with the older man.
Now Lassie wouldn't look at him. "It isn't…"
The blushing protests were actually kind of adorable. "Look, I'll go to the bathroom and wash my hands for a few minutes so you can calm down." He didn't wait for Lassiter to say anything, just left.
In the bathroom, he just looked into the mirror, unable to stifle his grin now that he was alone. This was the best date he'd ever been on, and he'd had quite a few memorable evenings. And it was worth letting the opportunity slip by, because he wanted Lassie to trust him, to feel safe and comfortable being intimate with him. They definitely weren't there yet.
After five minutes he headed back. Lassie still wouldn't look his way, but he wasn't hard anymore. His gun was back in its holster and the spare clips were undoubtedly stowed in his pockets. Shawn felt a little disappointed that the date was over.
"So what are you going to do about this, Spencer?"
The psychic's heart sank, because it was the sharp, business-like tone he heard at the station. He purposefully looked around the room, as if confused. "About what?"
"This…situation." The detective's teeth were clenched. He'd brought all his walls back up.
"Do? I kinda figured we'd keep it between us, unless you have a better idea. Geez, Lassie, you can trust me with this; I'm not that much of an asshole."
It felt good to watch that closed expression open up a little. Even better when those beautiful eyes hesitantly met his. "No…I guess you're not."
(-)
Carlton was having fun. He always loved shooting his gun, and having company was a surprisingly pleasant addition. He'd noticed that the kid hadn't set up his own target, and figured he was waiting to take turns. Was that how it was done on a man-date, to make it more inclusive?
He looked over after a while, thinking Shawn would ask for his own turn. "I thought you could shoot."
"Well, I can, but not without a gun. Even I'm not that good. And since I don't own a gun and the loaners are locked up…"
"You aren't touching my gun, Spencer." No way. The idiot might say he can shoot, but it was his gun.
The cocky little bastard just rolled his eyes and held out his hand. "Come on, a little trust, Lassie. You'll be watching the whole time."
Trust. Shawn wanted his trust. Could he trust a man who lied for a living? 'He isn't lying to you anymore,' a voice in his head chimed in. Sure, but only because Carlton had forced the truth from him. 'But he's being honest willingly now. He told you all about the dinosaur.'
Damn that hopeful little voice. He wanted to trust Shawn. He wanted to be able to trust the younger man with everything. But he couldn't. He could never let go. But maybe he could trust him with his gun. After all, he would be watching the whole time. And he did want to see how good Shawn was.
He handed over his gun, hoping he wouldn't regret it. Pleased to see the psychic check the clip and safety as if it was habit, he made to put a fresh target up for him. "Just leave it."
What did Spencer think he was going to do? Pretend he'd shot right through the detective's bullet holes? What was that tricky little asshole planning now?
It was nothing but rapt attention as he watched Shawn take a solid stance, raise his gun to aim with the confidence of a professional, and focus completely on his target as he squeezed the trigger rapidly, only slightly adjusting for each shot.
Spencer flipped the switch to bring the target up to them, and Carlton was looking carefully for whatever trick the psychic was trying to play. But as it got closer, it became clear. Each of his bullet holes had been matched by another, at almost the exact same spot. It left nearly uniform overlapping holes without blowing the center of the target to shreds with his close grouping. Holy Hell.
It was unexpected how hot that was. He knew he was getting worked up. Examining that target, he was getting hard and there was nothing he could do to stop it.
"Now do you think I'm experienced enough to handle your gun?" Oh how he wished Spencer had just stayed quiet. He was so aroused that the innocent statement just left him unable to stop thinking about Shawn's hand on his dick.
"Sooo, looks like you're really enjoying our man-date." Oh fuck, he'd seen, hadn't he?
He looked at Spencer abruptly, and it was written all over his face that he had seen. He was feigning casual commentary, but the teasing was seconds away. "Well, yeah."
"You're really enjoying it." Those hazel weapons looked down before focusing on his face.
His whole body was too hot. He didn't know what to say, what wouldn't encourage Shawn to make fun of him even more than he was about to. "It's not-! I mean-"
"Calm down, Lassie. I'd be more surprised if guns didn't turn you on. It's not a big deal." Was the kid actually being mature about this? Did he not understand that the gun didn't turn him on so much as what Shawn did with it?
He just stared at the target sheet, which wasn't remotely helpful. "It isn't…"
"Look, I'll go to the bathroom and wash my hands for a few minutes so you can calm down." Before he could decide what to say about that, he was alone.
Oh, fuck, please say this wasn't happening. A platonic date with Spencer and he gets visibly aroused like some horny teenager. And there was no way this was over. Maybe Shawn was playing it cool, but there was some joke lurking around the corner, something to stick it in the detective's face how pathetic and lonely he was.
He needed to focus on something else, but he couldn't with that target hanging there, mesmerizing him. He took it down, intending to tear it to shreds, but he couldn't. So he just folded it as flat and small as he could so he could get it in the inner pocket of his jacket without being noticeable.
Stowing his gun and clips, he thought about all the criminals he arrested who got off on technicalities, and by the time the kid got back, he had soured his mood appropriately and killed his arousal. "So what are you going to do about this, Spencer?" Might as well see what he was in for.
The idiot looked around as if searching for something. "About what?"
"This…situation." Was the asshole going to make him spell it out? Of course he would: all the better to humiliate him.
"Do? I kinda figured we'd keep it between us, unless you have a better idea. Geez, Lassie, you can trust me with this; I'm not that much of an asshole."
That stupid hopeful feeling was back, cutting through the shield of cynicism and wariness he had tried to put up. Shawn really wasn't going to hold this over him or mercilessly make fun of him. Trust. He could trust him with this. "No…I guess you're not."
"Glad you figured that out. Come on, a detective of your caliber should have caught onto that sooner." When Lassiter said nothing, Spencer said, "You look like you're ready to go. A shame, but we had fun, right?"
Lassiter just stared at the younger man. He had wanted to keep going, even after that? The idiot really had no idea he'd caused that problem. Spencer just accepted Carlton's "gun fetish" at face value and kept going. It was another thing that made him regret getting ready to leave. Just more evidence that he'd found someone who didn't want him to change, who was fine with him being exactly who he was. He never wanted to let go of that feeling, to let go of Shawn.
And a horrible thought occurred to him: he had actually fallen in love with Shawn Spencer. He was doomed.
(-)
The next day the chief called the idiot in to help on a case Carlton was working. He put up some protest, but now that he knew how Shawn worked, he could definitely see the value of his skills. It was strange, but he felt less resentment about how Spencer tended to show him up. The fake psychic had a real gift, and that made it more tolerable. Answers from thin air was aggravating and felt like cheating. Recalling details and noticing clues was just detective work.
And anytime the little pest took a dig at Lassiter or his skills, there was an extra spark of mischief in his eyes, something that made the detective feel included in the joke. He realized Shawn got an extra kick out of their banter now that they clearly didn't mean it. It made it even more of a game, and Lassiter was happy to play.
"You know, you and Shawn were on fire today. Like, I thought you were going to hit him for some of those remarks, but you worked together and solved our serial killing case in one day. We've been on it for a week." O'Hara wanted to talk on their way back to the precinct. What a surprise.
"That fake is useful, and I clearly can't get rid of him-" …not from his head, his heart, his life… "so I'm trying to accept it."
His partner beamed at him. "That's really mature of you, Carlton. Now if we could just get Shawn to grow up a bit."
It reminded Lassiter of their walk with frozen yogurt. If Shawn grew up, he wouldn't be Shawn. "He's not going to change, O'Hara. The kid is who he is."
"Everyone grows up eventually."
"Well, if he ever does act more mature, it'll be because he wants to. No one is going to make him change."
There was silence, and he felt nervous as his partner studied him. "You like Shawn, don't you?"
He nearly swerved into oncoming traffic. "What?! That little pest loves to ruin my life."
A glance showed her smiling. "You wouldn't be arguing that he's fine the way he is if you didn't like the way he is."
"O'Hara…" It was said in a warning tone.
"Look, I'm just saying that if you gave him a chance and spent some time with him, maybe you could actually be friends. And you don't have to put up a front around me, Carlton. I'm your parter; I've got your back no matter what."
Thank sweet Lady Justice; she thought he liked Shawn platonically. But her supportive words almost made him want to tell her the truth about how he felt. Almost. He trusted her more than any other partner he'd had, but she still wasn't fully cleared. Especially about this. She liked the psychic, he knew, and Lassiter's feelings could drive a wedge between them. Even if she was likely to end up with Shawn instead of him.
"You're the one who really likes him," he said, just to test the waters.
"Shawn? Well…since you brought it up, of course I like him." Of course. Who wouldn't? Carlton couldn't compete with all the people who had an interest in the psychic. "But like you said, he's not going to grow up. I can't date a man-child; I need an actual man. So even if I like him, it's never going anywhere."
It was like a weight had lifted off of him. The most prominent competitor for Spencer had already given up. Not that it would magically make him interested in Lassiter, but he didn't have to worry about jealously watching his partner date the man he loved.
Loved. God he was an idiot. How could he let something so stupid slip by him for so long? Because this wasn't a sudden thing. It had been building, and he had been reluctant enough to admit feelings of fondness, so he'd ignored the fact that it went a lot deeper than "fond" of him.
His phone rang. He glanced at the caller ID. Spencer. Who else? "Lassiter."
"Hey, Lassie, we kind of messed up."
"What do you mean we messed up? Case is closed; we got the guy."
Some noise that he didn't like came from Shawn, and his heart sped up. The psychic said, "Well, did you know he had a partner? Because Gus and I know he has a partner."
The emphasis on one word gave him a clear message: Shawn and Gus were being held by the partner. And their call was probably being listened in on. He had to send subtle messages too. "Come on, psychic, you know everything. Give me something useful."
He saw O'Hara frown at him given his tone of voice and actually calling Spencer "psychic".
"Well, the spirits are telling me he's angry at us for catching Andrews. They say he's in love with him." Another noise that sounded like Shawn being hit made Carlton wince, and O'Hara tried asking about it. He had to shake his head furiously for her to leave him alone and shut up.
"Look, if you have a lead, tell me where you are, and we can follow it." Just give him a place. He'd be there. No way in hell was he losing Shawn just when he'd actually started to get close to him.
"We're at the old saw mill. The one off Frontage Road? Hurry, though. The suspense might kill us if you wait too long."
Heart racing, Lassiter said, "I'm on my way," before tossing his phone to his partner and pulling a U-turn, flipping on his siren and lights.
"Carlton, what's going on!"
"Andrews had a partner, and he's got Spencer and Guster. And since he let Shawn give me an address, one way or another, this is a trap."
"I'm calling for back-up!" O'Hara pulled out her own phone.
"Good, but we aren't waiting for it. Spencer basically told me we're on the clock. Too long and the partner kills them." If he hadn't already. Lassiter went cold at the thought. Shawn wasn't dead. There was still time to rescue him.
(-)
When they entered the mill, it was a little surreal. Shawn and Gus were suspended upside-down from the rafters. "Where's the partner?" he asked as he and O'Hara cleared the area. He had no idea why there was a half inch of water on the floor of an old sawmill, but at least they would hear the partner moving.
"No idea. We think he left," Gus said.
Their heads were about a yard from the ground, and they were both wrapped shoulder to ankles in rope, and given the thickness, it would be quicker to untie the other end of each rope that was thrown over the beam. "O'Hara, see if you can untie the ends!"
"Got it!"
When she left, the detective looked at Shawn. "Okay, what did you actually see?"
"A dude angry-crying while you put Andrews in the car. I tailed him, at a distance, and saw how upset he was. When I saw him roll open a leather-bound knife set, I knew we had half of the culprits. Of course he saw me and attacked, knocking me out."
"I was following Shawn, at a distance, since I knew it was a stupid idea, and the guy saw me. He had a knife to Shawn's throat so I came willingly." Gus glared at the psychic. "You're going to get me killed someday."
"Not if I kill him first," the detective growled. "You said he was going to kill you if I didn't hurry."
"I said the suspense would kill us." Shawn glanced upward. "Suspension is sort of the same thing. I mean, it can take anywhere from several hours to a day or two, but I wasn't lying."
Of all the- "Spencer, when this is over, we need to have a talk about-"
He couldn't finish his sentence because Shawn was suddenly loose and falling. He reached out and caught hold of the younger man before he could crack his head open. This unfortunately left Shawn's face pressed against his crotch. And he thought it sounded like Spencer let out a noise of interest. It was just the stress of the situation making him think that. It was probably disgust.
Putting the idiot down before anything disastrous could happen, Carlton started unwrapping the psychic. With the suspension gone, the ropes were just falling off loosely. He had no idea how the partner managed that.
"Only you get into these ridiculous situations, Spencer!" He stood up, thinking that close proximity to the kid wouldn't help matters.
It was a good thing he did, because Guster fell a moment later. He was a step further away, so he only caught the second man-child with an inch or two to spare before his head hit the wet floor. He was quick about putting him down too.
"Did it work?" O'Hara reentered, looking pleased when she saw them free.
"Lassie, give me your gun,"
Crouched over helping Guster shake off his ropes, he glanced at the psychic, who was wide-eyed. "Now, Lassie!"
The urgency in his tone had him pulling his gun from his holster and tossing it to Spencer without further questions. It took Shawn a second to aim, and after he pulled the trigger there was a cry. Lassiter turned to see a man clutching his shoulder, trying to stop the bleeding. And he was right next to a big switch. When the detective noticed the wires coming from the electrical box next to the switch were trailing down into the water they were all standing in, he realized the danger they had been in.
The man grimaced as he tried to use his good hand to flip the switch, but O'Hara said, "Stop! I shoot to kill, so don't move another inch."
Lassiter watched the killer debate whether revenge was worth dying for, and he came to the right conclusion. Watching Shawn still training his gun on him, he put his hands up, clearly in pain as O'Hara moved to cuff him. And there was some small amount of dark satisfaction at the yelps when his shoulder rotated from being handcuffed. The bastard would have killed Shawn. Would have killed them all.
"Let's get the hell out of this death trap," Lassiter said, standing and offering a hand to help the psychic up.
Instead, Shawn put his gun in his waiting hand. "I know, I know, you want it back. Thanks for trusting me enough to borrow it. If I thought there was time for you to turn and assess the danger and shoot him, I wouldn't have asked. But his hand was on the switch."
Trust? Oh hell, without realizing it, he'd just shown more trust in Shawn than he'd shown anyone else, including his ex-wife. It was a bad sign that he'd given in just because the idiot sounded urgent, not asking more questions first. Well, if he had they'd be dead, but still.
He put his gun back in its holster and dragged Spencer to his feet by the back of his collar. "If you pull a crazy stunt like this again, I'll-"
"How is he supposed to control getting kidnapped by a serial killer?" Gus demanded. He was on his feet and at his friend's side in a moment, batting Lassiter's hand away.
"Not follow suspects like a numbnuts moron." Why was that so hard? "Call me if he gets something. That's how."
Before Gus could reply, Shawn said, "My nuts are far from numb, Lassie."
And with that one statement, he successfully de-railed the detective's lecture and train of thought. Carlton was suddenly thinking of making Shawn prove it. Reaching between his legs and see how he reacted.
"Carlton!" O'Hara said. "I've got him in the car, and the first squad cars are here. Let's get out of here."
Yes, that was a good idea. It was easier to behave and police his thoughts if there were other people around. The fewer people between him and Shawn, the harder it got to keep those thoughts and feelings at bay. Loathe as he was to admit it, the younger man made him feel more comfortable in his skin, showing who he was and how he felt.
They all exited the building to even more cars pulling up. McNabb had been among the first it seemed, because he was heading up to the building as they left. "Glad you're okay, guys." He started putting up crime scene tape.
"Thanks, Buzz," Shawn said.
It took a while for everything to calm down. Paramedics checked the psychic and his sidekick for any hidden injuries. And while Lassiter was wondering what he was going to put in his report, his partner sidled up to him.
"You gave Shawn your gun." It wasn't an accusation, but it felt like one.
"Yeah, because there was a threat on our lives."
She gave him a hard look. "Your back was to the guy. You didn't know what Shawn wanted your gun for. But you gave it to him anyway."
There wasn't much he could say without saying everything. So his partner asked, "How did you know he could handle a firearm?"
Ugh, he had to answer, or he looked like an irresponsible asshole, giving guns to civilians without knowing what they would do with it. "We went to a shooting range last night. The kid can shoot almost as well as I can."
Now her eyebrows went up. "You went out with Shawn? Why?"
He groaned internally, trying to think of an explanation that wouldn't involve McConnell's or frozen yogurt. "He asked."
She didn't say anything for a few moments, then: "You like him, don't you?"
No, he was not having this conversation if Spencer was anywhere in earshot. "I'm not discussing anything right now. We have paperwork."
"It can wait till tomorrow, Carlton," O'Hara said, and the look she was giving him was soft, encouraging. "What if we went somewhere to talk? Seriously, this is something we need to discuss."
Biting back his automatic defensive reply that he didn't need to do anything with or for her, he said, "Why do you care so much?"
That drew a sigh. "Because I'm your partner. And I'm your friend. You listened to me talk about him; I'll listen to you."
The detective noticed the young man in question looking their way as someone patched up the cut he got on his cheek when the partner hit him. And it occurred to him that it was entirely possible Shawn could read lips. He moved between O'Hara and Spencer and said, "Fine. We can go somewhere and talk." He put as much disdain into the word as he could. He just hoped he kept his mouth shut about a lot of it; she had a way of weaseling information out of him he normally wouldn't share.
(-)
So, I'm very sorry if the serial killer bit seems rushed or sloppy; I had the idea of a situation where Shawn asks Lassie for his gun and Lassie gives it to him. It's a huge sign of trust and faith in him. And I thought it would be interesting if Juliette figured it out based on that action.
The serial killer got built as a scenario to facilitate the desired situation. Hopefully it wasn't full of fail.
Feel free to let me know how you felt about that or whatever other bits you feel worth commenting on.