Author's Note: Sorry this took so long to get up. Thanks to everyone who's been reading and reviewing.
"Tell me you didn't go the hospital and get a brain scan." (time: young)
Shawn didn't speak to Carlton for the next two days, but this time, he had the feeling that the older man wasn't trying to avoid him. Things were just so busy, at the station and at Psych, that they hadn't been able to get two seconds alone, together.
The longest they'd even seen each other had been a day ago, when they passed each other as Carlton was coming out of the Chief's office. And even then, Shawn had barely managed to get out a hello before Carlton was called away by Buzz, with a question from the younger man.
It was starting to drive him crazy. He'd wanted time to think about how he felt about Carlton, but this was getting ridiculous. He even wondered if there was some cosmic force out there that didn't want him and Carlton getting together. He certainly wouldn't put it past the universe to mess with his love life.
The one bright spot was that Gus had finally gotten enough of a break at his regular job to come back to Psych. But, even that was ruined by the fact that Gus just wanted to talk to him about Carlton. And he had no idea how to talk to Gus about his feelings for Carlton, when he couldn't even talk to himself about those feelings.
The phone rang, suddenly, jolting him out of his thoughts, and he lunged forward to grab the cordless off its base.
"Psych," he answered, automatically. "Psychic detectives, at your service."
"I want to hire you to find out who's been stealing from me," the woman on the other end of the line said, and that was just the start of the chaos that marked the rest of the day.
Psych's phone lines were off the hook, all day, and when Gus was called back into his regular job, after another rep called in sick, Shawn found himself handling everything on his own. It was all mostly small stuff, a missing dog, a cheating husband, nothing that he even had to call the police in about, but it kept him on his toes.
He was even too busy to answer his cell phone, letting the messages to go voicemail and checking on them when he could. But, luckily, none of the messages were about cases from the police. Three of the calls were from Carlton, but the older man didn't leave any messages, and Shawn spared a moment to wonder if he was ruining any chance he might have had at a relationship before it even began.
He finally had a chance to just sit and breathe, later in the day, and he slumped in his chair, his legs stretched out in front of him and his eyes closed in exhaustion. He didn't even look up when the bell over the door jangled.
"If you're here to rob the place, I don't keep any cash on hand," he said, without opening his eyes.
"It would be a pretty stupid thief, to rob a psychic," a familiar voice spoke up. "If they could find anything in this mess to steal, that is."
Shawn opened his eyes, straightening to see Carlton walking across the office. He smiled at the sight of the older man and stood to greet him, but he was pulled up short when the muscles in his back seized up, protesting the sudden movement.
"Ow," he groaned, sinking back down into the chair.
"You look like hell," Carlton told him.
"Fell out of a tree," Shawn told him, whimpering in pain as his neck cracked when he moved.
"How'd you manage that?" Carlton asked, with a laugh.
"Cat up a tree, hysterical kid, and a frantic mother," Shawn said. "Stupid cat clawed my arms up when I tried to grab it, and then it made its leisurely way down to the ground. I, meanwhile, took the express via gravity."
"At least you didn't break anything, this time," Carlton told him.
"Just my pride," Shawn muttered.
He flinched at another muscle spasm, and then he froze at the feel of hands on his shoulders. He didn't move, even when Carlton started kneading out the knots at the base of his neck.
"I've never heard you this speechless, before," Carlton commented, when he was silent for several long seconds.
"I'm afraid that if I say anything, you'll stop," Shawn told him, finally allowing himself to relax into the other man's touch. "But, please don't, because that feels really good."
Carlton just chuckled, continuing the shoulder rub, and Shawn marveled at the softer side of the other man that he was finally getting to see.
"So, it turns out that I don't have any tumors," Carlton said, casually, and it took Shawn a second to get it.
Craning his head back, he stared incredulously up at Carlton.
"Tell me you didn't go to the hospital and get a brain scan," he said, accusingly, and a faint blush crept over Carlton's cheeks. "Of course you did," he went on. "Look who I'm talking to."
"Well, I had to be sure," Carlton muttered, defensively, and that was all it took to set Shawn off.
He started laughing, and pretty soon he was bent over and gasping for breath. Taking a seat in Gus's chair, Carlton waited for him to finish.
"Only you," Shawn managed to gasp out, "would think that having a brain tumor was a better alternative than being attracted to me."
Carlton blushed, harder, and didn't say anything in reply.
"So, even without the presence of personality-altering brain lesions," Shawn asked, when he'd calmed down, "are we still on for dinner?"
"Dinner sounds good," Carlton told him. "The trick is finding two seconds to actually be able to go out. I had to lie to O'Hara just to be able to come out here."
"Actually," Shawn said, hardly believing the words that were about to leave his mouth, "before we go any further with this, there's something I need to tell you."
"You're not psychic," Carlton said, dryly, while Shawn was still psyching himself up to actually admit the truth. "That's not news, Shawn, that's something I figured out a while back."
Shawn stared at him in amazement, unable to figure out which had him more stunned. That Carlton knew the truth about him, or that he'd just called him by his first name.
"What I can't figure out," Carlton went on, oblivious to his shock, "is how you're doing it."
"Eidetic memory," Shawn said, faintly, wondering where the anger was.
He'd been expecting an explosion to rival Mount Vesuvius, not this calm man sitting across from him. Maybe brain tumors had been ruled out, but Shawn was starting to wonder if alien possession or body swapping were possibilities.
"You're not pissed," he finally said, bluntly, even as he wondered if he was crazy for pushing his luck.
"You've done a lot of good working with the police over the last four years," Carlton explained. "And, as annoying as it is, you have a one hundred percent solve rate. I figure that affords you a little leeway."
"Wow," was all Shawn could manage. "I never thought I'd hear a compliment leaving your lips. Are you sure that MRI came back clean?"
Carlton smirked at him. "Very funny," he said. "So, what do you mean when you say you have an eidetic memory?"
"My dad trained me to be a cop," Shawn explained. "Heightened observation and near-perfect recall."
"So, then, why not become a cop?" Carlton asked. "With skills like that, you'd be able to do pretty much anything you wanted."
"Have you met me?" Shawn asked, rhetorically. "Besides, I like being a private investigator."
"Except when it leads to you falling out of trees," Carlton pointed out, and Shawn had to agree with him.
"There are some downsides," he admitted. "But, even you would have climbed after that cat when faced with that screaming kid."
"You never did say when you wanted to go to dinner," Carlton reminded him.
"Why not tonight?" Shawn asked, but then he trailed off when Psych's phone started ringing, insistently.
Carlton's cell phone started ringing almost at the same time, and the other man glared at the offending device in disgust.
"That's why not tonight," he said, annoyance plain in his voice.
He answered the phone with an abrupt greeting, but then Shawn had to block him out in order to pay attention to his own phone call. He took down the details of his latest client, and then he hung the phone up and turned to look at Carlton.
"Tomorrow," Shawn said, decisively. "No phones, no interruptions, just the two of us going out to dinner. Even if it kills us."
"With the way things have been going, it just might," Carlton retorted. "Pick you up at eight?"
"It's a date," Shawn agreed.
He walked with Carlton to the door, stopping the other man before he could leave the office.
"You know," he commented, "now that we've got dinner plans, this could mark the start of our actual relationship."
"And what does that make everything that happened before now?" Carlton asked, curiously.
"Practice," Shawn told him, "in anticipation for the real thing."
"So, what's so significant about this being the real thing?" Carlton asked.
Rather than answering, Shawn leaned forward and pressed his lips against the other man's, winding his arms around Carlton's neck as he deepened the kiss. To his delight, Carlton kissed him back, his own arms going around Shawn's waist as he pulled him closer. When Shawn finally pulled away, Carlton had a slightly dazed look on his face.
"That means that was our first official kiss," he told the other man. "Which means that I was the one who kissed you, first. See you at eight," he reminded Carlton, and then he shut the door on the man's stunned expression.