A/N: There are no good excuses. I've had time to write, just no will. But here it is. The BIG ONE. I hope it makes up for the delay.
That morning, he wakes up with a definite sense of purpose.
He gets up without delay, without wishing he could stay in bed for just a few more minutes. He dresses at a steady pace as he watches her sleep. She won't leave for work for another hour, and he wants to wake her, but he doesn't. He lets her sleep, but he kisses her cheek before heading out.
Today, he knows with calm certainty, will be the day.
At work, he interrogates three suspects. Two of them confess within ten minutes. The third suspect cracks within five.
McNab congratulates him on a job well done, but Carlton just nods and waves it away. "All in a day's work," he says.
Over lunch, he discusses the Sorenson case with his partner. An hour later, they find evidence incriminating the brother-in-law, who is promptly brought in for questioning. Spencer is present at the time, and may or may not have helped with that one (Lassiter won't freely admit this).
When Carlton gets home from work, he showers and dresses nicely. He checks his gun, grabs a few boxes of ammunition as well as a few target sheets from his closet.
He's ready for anything.
Ready to set out on a do-or-die mission.
The ring in his pocket urges him onward.
He arrives at her place early and lets himself in. "Liz?" he calls out.
"Coming!" she calls back, and a moment later, she's hurrying towards him.
She has her gun, holstered, in one hand and a purse slung across her other shoulder. She gives him a quick kiss in greeting. It takes all his willpower not to lengthen the moment and forget the plan altogether.
But she breaks away and he lets her. "I feel so nervous, for some reason," she says. He raises an eyebrow at the admission. "But in a good way," she amends. "Excited nervous."
She doesn't know. She couldn't know. But is the feeling in the atmosphere? He thinks it just might be, and it's contagious. He smiles at her and nods towards the door. His voice, uncharacteristically soft. "Come on, I don't want to be late."
They walk out together and she questions him. "Late? Do you think the station will just up and leave us?" she jokes.
They reach his car and he doesn't answer until they're both inside it. He busies himself with his seat belt. "Actually, I was thinking we could try the public range this time. If you don't mind a little bit more of a drive?"
She looks at him with mild surprise. "Sure, Carlton, but that's unexpected."
"I know," he says, and he can't keep the slight teasing out of his voice.
She gives him an appraising look, but he can't meet her eye now if he's going to keep his poker face. He concentrates on the road instead.
"Well, okay," she says finally. "But we'll need some music if the ride is longer." She reaches for the radio dial, and music fills up the car before he can even reply.
As they drive, she hums along to song after song, sometimes even going as far as to sing under her breath, and he can't help but think that it's never been more easy to be in love with her.
The public shooting range is exactly as he remembers it. Secluded and hilly, not exactly beautiful, but the evening is nice and at least they're alone together.
He parks the car on the dirt of the range, a little off to the side. When they get out of the car, he sets up a few targets along the provided line while Elizabeth checks her gun and loads it. He joins her after a few minutes, removes his weapon from its holster and takes some ear plugs out of their packaging.
Elizabeth leans against the car and smiles challengingly. "Up for a little game of HORSE, Detective?"
Carlton smirks. "You're on."
It was an SBPD game he'd taught her a few months back. It was essentially a rip-off of the version of basketball called HORSE. First shooter picks a spot to shoot from, fires, and the second shooter must then shoot from the same position and try to get within three inches (although it was generally by rough estimation rather than actual measuring) of the first shot. If the second person failed to get close enough, they'd get a letter, and the first one to spell HORSE would lose.
They were pretty evenly matched – he had won the last two times, but it had always been close.
Today, the game starts off simple and slow. She goes first and chooses a straight shot from a slight distance. The bullet rips through the shoulder of the target figure.
Carlton takes her places and matches the shot easily, his bullet hole practically overlapping with hers.
"I knew I should have tried something more difficult."
"Agreed. What were you thinking?" he asks, smirking.
Then he picks a new, slightly awkward angle to shoot from and when they're both ready, he pulls the trigger four times in quick succession, changing his aim slightly with each shot. The bullets rip through the target, creating a "Z" pattern upon the black paper.
"You have to do it as fast as I did, too," he reminds her.
"Easy."
And she's right; she matches the pattern quickly and efficiently, as if it's no challenge at all.
The game continues for awhile. Shots aimed shootout style from behind his parked car. Shots aimed at an old aluminum can they found along the hill.
"Big shot Detective? I expect more from you," she teases after awhile.
He rolls his eyes. "You do realize I'm winning, right?"
"By one letter. And I'm just a civilian."
They increase the distance of their shots and focus on hitting very precise marks on the target. Our shots are practically sniper-worthy now, he thinks with amusement.
Lassiter stops in the middle of the game and heads towards the target. He pulls a pen from his pocket and marks the sheet with a small "x". Then he returns to his position, very, very far from the target.
His aim is careful, precise.
The shot rings out, and it's perfect. The "x" is gone, replace by a perfect round hole in its place.
"Top that," he tells her.
Turns out, she can't. The distance is too great and the shot goes off mark, by about five inches.
"Looks like I win," he says. He turns his gun's safety on and dramatically puts it back into his hip holster.
She does the same, but then she smirks defiantly. "You don't win. That was for S."
"You already got an S for missing the can, remember?"
She moves forward towards him, slow and predatory, but playfulness is sparking in her eyes. She reaches him and her hands goes to his chest. He raises an eyebrow and she shoves him lightly. He steps back, and now he's trapped between his car and Elizabeth. Not a bad place to be, actually. "You're a sore loser," he smirks.
She leans in close to his face, and her hands are on his chest again. "Take it back," she whispers.
"Make me," he breathes out.
And then she's kissing him, and he's kissing her back, and thank God no one else is around. It would be highly inappropriate for public eyes.
She shifts slightly and the ring box in his jacket pocket presses against his side.
Carlton had been so lost in the moment, so lost in being kissed by her, he'd practically forgotten why he'd brought her here.
Between long kisses, he glances toward the horizon.
Exactly what he wanted, exactly what he didn't want to miss.
The sunset.
He couldn't have asked for a better one, either. The horizon is fiery orange and smeared with a sharp pink.
Carlton breaks away slightly and nods towards the setting sun. "Liz, look."
She turns to see. She smiles softly and stands beside him. They both lean back against his car to watch the slow downward progression of the sun in the sky.
"It's beautiful," she sighs, and she takes his hand, as if to share the moment with him in some concrete way.
That's it, that's all the encouragement he needs. All he could ever want.
He reaches into his pocket with his other hand, holds onto the box for one moment, and then he breathes in deeply and kneels down onto one knee.
The box is out now, and he lets go of her hand to open it.
Her eyes find his, and her first instances of shock are replaced by some emotion that looks like joy.
He opens the ring box, and she's tearing up before he can even get the first word out. "Liz, you know I'm not the best with words so I'm just going to say the parts that really matter, alright? I love you so much. You make me happy. Everyone knows you do. I love you. And...will you marry me?"
She doesn't reply with words. Instead, she reaches for his hand and pulls him to his feet. She's kissing him again, and he's dazed by it, not to mention confused. Wait, did she answer, he wonders, panicking slightly.
Then she breaks the kiss, rests her forehead against his, and smiles. "I love you, Carlton," she whispers. "And yes, I will marry you. Of course I will."
He smiles and looks down at the ring box which had momentarily been forgotten, held loosely in his hand. Now he focuses his full attention on that little piece of jewelry that means so much. He pulls the ring out carefully, and she gives him her hand without question.
He sighs contently as he places the ring gently onto her finger.
It looks perfect on her hand.
He knew it would.