A/N: Sorry for such a long wait! Pretty much a month, and this isn't even very good (by my standards). If there's anything in here that you wish for me to change, please feel free to write a review. I can't guarantee that it will be changed but if it is glaring like the thing noticed in chapter 5, it will be changed. Thank you so much for staying with me, and look for the last reason coming soon!


9). Those movies that they rented? They got watched, but not watched.

"Lassie, I'm here!" Shawn announces as he bursts into their apartment. He looks around and finds his boyfriend waiting for him on the couch.

"Hey Shawn."

The fake psychic skips over, giving the head detective a chaste kiss on the cheek before cuddling on the couch next to him.

"What are we watching?"

Carlton yawns and stretches a bit before pulling out a DVD and mumbling something while blushing.

"This movie?" the younger man asks quizzically. "I never took you as a sucker for chick flicks, but… I've never seen this one before, so…"

As the opening credits roll, Shawn moves himself closer against Carlton. Lassiter responds, and wraps his arms around the fake psychic. His fake psychic.

The Time Traveler's Wife, he thinks to himself. A timeless story of never ending love. How perfect.

As he feels Shawn's spiky brown hair graze across his neck, the older man holds back a throaty laugh. In the mood for slight revenge, he releases his grasp on his boyfriend and starts to tickle him.

"What the—Lassie!"

The fake psychic's pleas for the tickling to stop dissolve into laughter as the two wrestle on the couch. Eventually, Lassiter pins Shawn down and plants a kiss on the younger man's lips.

"I love you, Shawn."

The pseudo psychic laughs and pulls Carlton down for round two.

"I love you too. Now get down here."

The two lay side by side on the couch for a little bit, staring at each other's eyes. Lassiter laughs a bit to himself as he watches Shawn drift off to sleep.

That movie is due back tomorrow, but I have a feeling that I'm going to have to pay a late fine.

He tries to shake his boyfriend awake to attempt to watch the movie again, but the fake psychic, as he knows, is dead to the world until noon (or well after). The head detective sighs, puts his hands behind his head, and slowly allows sleep to overtake him.

It'll be a fine that I won't mind paying.