Fic: “Truth or Dare" by momonoki - PG-13 - Lassiter/Spencer 3/5
“Where the hell’s the evidence, Spencer?!” Despite his earlier efforts to locate the evidence, Lassiter apparently hadn’t been able to find it while Shawn was on the phone, and one look at his face confirmed the man wasn’t happy. Then again, he was never happy. Looking around the closet, Shawn almost immediately found the “sole” item that stood out from the others-but he wasn’t about to reveal it yet.
“Don’t worry about it, Lassie. Even though you’re the cuddliest, bestest Head Detective ever, why would I do the whole Big Reveal without a bigger audience? Unless you want this to be a private show,” Shawn winked up at Lassiter, who was glaring down at him. Wait a minute-was that a hint of a blush on the detective’s nose? Man, flirting with Lassiter was too much fun.
“No thank you! I can wait, if it keeps you from repeating yourself. I hear enough endless crap from you already, so at least spare me from hearing you say the same thing twice.” Though Lassiter wasn’t able to hide the hint of disappointment in his voice, he was showing, albeit reluctantly, that he knew that it would be better if the Chief was there to hear Shawn’s explanation too.
“Fair enough. So, yeah, I was thinking Lassie, since we might be stuck in here for a while waiting for Jules and the gang, we should play a game or something,” Shawn patted the carpeted closet floor, indicating that the detective should sit down too. “Sadly I don’t have any video games with me, so we should go old-school. Pre-Nintendo. How about Truth or Dare?”
“Really, Spencer?” Lassiter shook his head in disbelief. “How childish are you? Wait, don’t answer that.”
“You know you wanna play. Come on, it’s Truth or Dare. It’s the game where the point is to try and embarrass the hell out of your friends.” Lassiter just looked at Shawn with a deadpan expression. “Er, well, maybe you don’t consider me a friend, Lassie. Irregardless, it’s finally your chance to try and embarrass me.”
“Regardless,” Lassiter corrected, looking a little more interested. He acquiesced to Shawn’s earlier invitation and sat down so that he was a few feet across from Shawn.
He was probably glad to finally sit down, Shawn considered. He had been ambling around the mansion for hours, after all.
Shawn continued. “Anyhow, I know you get kinda ticked when, with the help of the all-knowing spirits, I sort of solve your cases for you.” At this any glimmer of interest in Lassiter’s eyes was replaced by that oh-so-familiar, seething fury. Unconcerned, Shawn kept babbling. “So consider this my gift to you. It’s your turn to have at me. So ask me!”
Silence. Lassie just glared at Shawn as he usually did, and Shawn never broke eye contact, merely watching the detective with a deadpan but slightly mischievous expression, just as he usually did. Also as usual, Lassie ultimately gave in. It was their typical routine, oddly comforting if only in the fact that it was so familiar. Exasperated that he lost their glaring contest, Lassiter could only manage a reluctant, “Truth or Dare?”
“Truth.” Shawn offered promptly. This would be too easy. He had nothing to hide-
“Are you really a psychic? And if you lie this time-” Lassiter clenched his fist.
Except for that. “Aww, Lassie,” Shawn shook his head in disappointment. “Really, how many times have you asked me this? I think we both know the answer to that. Come on, you gotta step up your game! Ask me something completely insane!”
“Fine. Truth or Dare?”
“Dare, this time.”
“I dare you to shut up for five whole minutes.” Lassiter looked deadly serious as he said this, but the tiniest victorious smile threatened to widen on his face.
“Haha, nice one, dude.” Shawn gave a half-smile. “Have you ever even played this game? You totally have,” he insisted, but Lassiter embarrassedly looked away.
“…No? You haven’t? You didn’t play this at your friends’ birthday parties when you were a kid? Didn’t play it with any girls? That’s even better, you know.”
“No, I didn’t, okay? I didn’t like my friends’ birthday parties because they always had clowns. Never really was into clowns. Not so funny when they’re alive, but I do know a funny story about a dead one--” Lassiter brightened.
Shawn made a show of covering his ears. “Yeah, dead clown story, heard it, don’t ever need to hear it again. Okay, let me be the one asking the questions this time. I’ll teach you how it’s done,” Shawn said as he rubbed his palms together. “You gotta ask some nitty-gritty questions; get under the other person’s skin. Are you ready? Okay, truth or dare, Lassie?”
“Truth.”
“This is hypothetically speaking, of course, and it’s a bit crude, but I gotta know. Just roll with it, okay?”
“Okay…” Lassiter eyed Shawn suspiciously.
Shawn went straight for the gold. “Lassie, would you do Jules? You know, if she actually gave you the chance.”
Shawn wasn’t sure why he asked this question: it wasn’t a question he would ask other guys because the answer was so obvious (it was a resounding “Duh!”), but for some reason he just had to ask Lassie.
“Excuse me?!” Lassiter choked out, incredulous. Yes, this was the reaction Shawn was expecting. But he really liked seeing Lassiter all sputtering and embarrassed, and thus he drove in the nail even harder.
“Would you have sexual relations with Juliet? Get freaky with her. Do the horizontal tango.” Shawn made a couple of obscene motions to highlight his meaning.
The normally stoic Lassiter wildly waved his arms out in front of him in objection. “I know what it means! And no. Absolutely not!” Lassiter’s face was so red, it brought even more attention to his startling blue eyes, which Shawn could never, never, cross-his-heart-and-hope-to-die EVER, admit aloud he thought were “pretty.” What was he, a Lassiter fangirl? Hmm…maybe.
“You’re lyyyiiinnnnggg! The spirits are telling me, quote, that you are ‘a liar, liar, pants on fire.’” Shawn had a hand up near his ear, as if he were listening to said spirits via a Bluetooth headset.
Lassiter said nothing, just continued glowering like someone just relieved themselves in his proverbial breakfast cereal (knowing how dull Lassiter could be sometimes, he probably ate Bran Flakes). Looking at the scowling detective, Shawn imagined that it must be hard work being pissed all the time. I guess you are what you eat, Shawn thought.
“Come on, Lassie. Just imagine it. Maybe one night you’re on a stakeout with Jules. It’s late. You’ve both been there for hours in utter silence, and neither of you know what to say to each other. The sexual tension is so thick you could cut it with a knife. And then all of a sudden she just spills. She’s all like,” Shawn put on his insanely high girly voice, “‘Oh, Carlton, I never told you but I think you’re, like, the best detective ever and you’re really handsome and macho and even though in the beginning it freaked me out a little, I even dig the chest hair. ’”
Lassiter shot him yet another dose of his infamous cold glare. Shawn had long since become immune to it, unfortunately for good ole Lassie-face.
Unperturbed, Shawn continued. He couldn’t leave this alone-it was way too much fun. “Dude, dontcha think she’s at least hot? You can’t deny that she’s a beautiful woman.”
“I’ve said this before to someone else who was similarly childish and a total pain in my ass, but all I think about Detective O’Hara is that she’s a capable detective who keeps her workspace clean and does what she’s asked in an adequate and timely fashion,” Lassiter declared resolutely, straightening his tie. “Although, speaking of fashion…sometimes her attire is not quite as professional as it could be. Sometimes I think I’d prefer it if she wore blouses that, err, covered her up a bit more.” Lassiter looked down, frowning slightly as if embarrassed at revealing such information.
“Blouses? Really? You’re going with the word ‘blouses?’ Haven’t heard that gem in a while. But that detracts from my point: So you have checked her out! Atta boy, Lassie!” Shawn gave Lassiter an enthusiastic thumbs-up. Lassiter slapped a hand to his forehead.
“And you’re right, she does wear low-cut shirts sometimes, which is nice for all involved,” Shawn smiled. “You and McNab are pretty tall too, so from you guys’ point of view it must be pretty awesome.” Shawn reveled in the thought. Jules was definitely attractive, but if the current game he and Lassie were playing was any indication, the head detective was way more fun to mess with. “Don’t tell her I said that by the way. She’d probably shoot me.” Shawn was pensive for a moment, and then slowly pointed at Lassiter. “Wait, no, that would be you who would do that.”
“I already said I don’t think of her like that, so cut the crap, Spencer!” Lassiter was definitely done talking about this particular subject.
“Okay fine. So do you get how this is done? Now it’s your turn, so try to make me do or say something embarrassing.” Shawn hoped his smile conveyed a smug, Good Luck.