Don't own the rights to these lovely fellas, but I certainly do claim rights to the plot. If they were mine, whew, Psych would have an entirely new rating. Probably a later show time too... Because apparently everything inappropriate airs after midnight.

Curse the sleeping schedules of the perverted!

Lassiter didn't know why he was still there. Spencer was just drunk, he wasn't dying or anything. He'd sleep it off, kick back a few painkillers and be just fine.

Carlton had cleaned up, crashed on the couch, and woke up grumbling that morning before deciding to rile through Spencer's kitchen. It was his right to do so, of course. The guy bought his weekend, got drunk, and managed to leave him with enough unjustified guilt to stay the night. He owed him at least a breakfast. But naturally, Spencer never let him have anything. He couldn't even bother to have something in his cupboards worth ingesting.

Lassiter was forced to settle on a bowl of sugary cereal and a speckled banana.

Busy busting about looking for the coffee, Lassiter almost missed Shawn entering the kitchen. Almost.

"Why the hell are you so loud?"

"Good morning to you too." Carlton grunted, nodding his head at the man as he took a seat at the counter.

Shawn groaned, rubbing his temple with a pained expression, "Hangovers suck."

"That's your own fault. You drank way too much."

"I needed it." he whined, waving a wrist in Lassiter's direction, "Coffee's in the top left cupboard."

"How did-?"

"Psychic, remember?" Shawn grinned, the smile losing it's shine immediately before he started massaging his forehead again.

Carlton pulled out the bag of grounds, filling the filter and pouring a little bit of water over the top before pressing this thumb down over the button, "You need aspirin or something?" He questioned, fishing around for mugs next.

"Dishwasher." Shawn grunted, "I already took an aspirin."

Lassiter huffed, unpacking two clean mugs from the dishwasher and placing them beside the coffee maker before finally flipping around, "So what posessed you to drink yourself into a hole? I don't see the appeal in hangovers, but maybe that's a personal choice."

Shawn chuckled halfheartedly, "You make it sound like I asked for this."

"You're the one who drank- whatever the hell it was you drank."

Shawn shrugged meagerly, going right back to touching his forehead after making a rather pained face, "Rose wine, vodka, and a splash of ginger ale. With some tropical pineapple syrup for kicks." he grumped, wincing when he actually came in contact with the skin. "Kinda needed to be drunk."

Lassiter scoffed, "What for?"

"No reason."

"Bullshit."

Shawn brought a hand to his sternum, widening his eyes and feigning a gasp, "My, my, what a mouth. You want some soap? I have a pineapple, Dollar Store, pumping one in the bathroom." he offered. "But it doesn't actually taste like pineapple."

"Did you actually-? Nevermind." he sighed, pinching his nose, effectively giving up. "Keep it a secret then."

"It's not necessarily a secret." Shawn huffed, "You just shouldn't need my help figuring it out, detective."

Lassiter scoffed, an amused grin threatening to show it's face regardless, "That almost sounds like a challenge, Spencer."

"Almost? Well. I gotta step up my game then. It was one hundred percent a challenge. Like... Rocky vs. Creed. Or Oprah vs. Ellen."

"I'm supposed to interrogate you for a reason to drink?"

Shawn smirked, "Well I can assure you, my fine feathered friend, that there is indeed a very important reason." he flinched, the headache returning again, "Not that it was a good idea. No wonder celebrities always seem so pissy. This hurts."

"Must have been a damn good reason."

Shawn grinned triumphantly, "Flawless. Extraordinary. Impossibly good reason."

"Fine." he snapped, "I get it. Challenge accepted."

Shawn's lips did a weird thing... and suddenly he looked like a fish, "Ooooh! Does the winner get a prize?"

"How about I don't smack you?"

"Is that incentive? Cus your manhandling is a huge turn on Lassie."

Carlton scoffed, turning his head back towards the coffee. He wasn't sure if he should bring up what happened the night before. For all he knew, Shawn was drunk enough not to remember it, maybe he wouldn't hold it over Carlton. Of course, it could be wishful thinking. Shawn hadn't immediately jumped into convicting conversation though, so maybe he had a shot. He grumbled contently before voicing what kind of prize he wanted, "If I win, I want you to leave me the hell alone for a whole month."

Shawn huffed from his seat, fidgeting in his stool, "That sounds even less fun. What do I get if I win Lassiefrass?"

"I agree not to shoot you when I reeeally want to."

"This doesn't feel like I'm really winning anything, Lassie. How about a foot rub? Oooh! Or a weeks worth of free smoothies! Pineapple, of course. I'm also partial to signed Celine Dion CDs. I don't know if you could swing that one though. Unless you have some kind of connections there. Did you save her bodyguard? OR-"

"For god's sake, shut up for two minutes." he barked, "Let me get some coffee. I can't deal with your nonsense this early."

"Lassie, it's like... eleven."

"Still too early to deal with you, Spencer. It takes more than one cup of coffee before I can put up with your shenanigans."

Shawn chortled, running his fingers through an invisible beard for a moment, pretending to think, "How about, if I win, I pick my prize?"

"I don't trust that."

"It's answer related, I assure you. If you can't guess it, my prize will clarify. Either way, you get to know. I just get a bonus." he paused, "Aaaand you agree not to punch me for it. Deal?"

"If I would punch you over it? Nope."

"Come on Lassie, trust a little."

Carlton snorted, "Trust? You?"

"Yes, trust, it's what friends do."

He smirked, "I'm not acknowledging your Finding Nemo reference."

"Already acknowledged! So," he jumped up from his seat, only wincing a little at how dizzy it made him before offering his hand, "We got a deal?"

Lassiter considered it, slipping his hand into Shawn's before adding, "Deal, but if I want to punch you, God knows I will. No guarantees there."

"Warning taken into consideration."

Carlton worried if maybe he'd made the wrong decision agreeing to play Spencer's game. He watched the man smile gleefully, shaking Lassiter's hand firmly and with purpose, like he'd already won. He grumbled before nodding his head. If their hands lingered a little longer than necessary before pulling away, well, who was there to call them out on it?