FIC: Quarter Life Crisis (3/??) - Spencer/Lassiter - Psych
Title: Quarter Life Crisis (3/??)
pairing: Carlton/Shawn
rating: PG
disclaimer: Not mine, Never will be
summary: Shawn and Lassiter have a date! It's a shame Lassiter doesn't realize that's what it is.
Previous Parts:
[One] | [Two]
Unnumbered future parts:
[ N ] | [N+1]
Shawn wasn't much of a planner, and he never had been. But he was discovering an untapped well of foresight for his dinner with Lassiter. He might be a bit unfocused, but there were many lessons Henry Spencer drilled into his son: detective work, his memory, and the proper planning for a cookout.
Henry's butcher was able to come through in the end and was able to provide a great steak, well two, good color, nice marble, and Shawn decided that he was ready for some serious grilling and set them aside for Friday.
The afternoon after the 'double date' at Tom Blair's Pub Shawn lounged in the Psych office watching a previously tivoed morning news. Gus came in after work and an intense round of foosball was had by all.
"Have you gotten over your weird crush on Lassiter yet?" Gus slouched down into his chair, obviously deflated.
"Gus, it's not a weird crush. I know he's not my usual type but he's just ... mmm!"
Gus obviously didn't want to hear Shawn's observations on the appeal of Lassiter, he made a disgusted face and shook his head. Shawn just grinned.
"Besides, I invited him over for a date this Friday."
"Shawn, you're nuts! He probably doesn't even realize it's a date."
"I see you've found the one flaw in my otherwise incredibly clever plan," Shawn sighed. It was true. The effort would be wasted if Lassiter wasn't interested. "It's a risk I'm willing to take, Gus. Besides, it's not like I'm going to jump him, it's just dinner, maybe a few drinks."
"Shawn, you haven't been in a serious relationship for years, and you were never very good at it when you *were* trying."
"You're right, I'm a horrible boyfriend. But I'm an excellent cook. All I need is a little practice. Besides I ..." Shawn trailed off.
"Oh my God, you actually like him. This isn't just some horrendously bad idea crush, you actually like him. You two have nothing in common!"
"We ... like fishing?"
"You hate fishing, Shawn."
"Do you think he likes motorcycles?"
"I doubt it."
"Ok, ok, we both like solving crime. And women, we both like women."
"I think that's another *huge* hurdle in your poorly thought through plan for dating him, Shawn."
"Oh come on, Gus, stop being so negative. I have an awesome collection of skills that are good for impressing men and women alike with my startling flexibility and versatility. Lassiter just needs a little more time to fully comprehend exactly how amazing I am."
"Just don't screw this up, Shawn. I like living in Santa Barbara."
"I wont, I promise." And Shawn was startled to realize he actually really believed himself on this one.
Shawn continued to be just a little nervous for the two days, he didn't actively seek out cases and none fell into his lap. Instead he spent the time wrapped up in playing video games or watching sports of ESPN. Several times he had the urge to get out and try to pick up something gorgeous and blonde but every time he got to a bar he never seemed to manage the appropriate small talk to make any headway.
And thus Shawn was stuck with the moral conundrum: was it still cheating if the other person didn't realize you were dating?
Thankfully Friday eventually arrived. Not that Shawn expected much, but he could at least flirt with the detective shamelessly. One plus side of straight men is that they never seemed to notice a little flirting, went right over their heads.
Shawn reflected on his own ridiculous taste in men. Usually, it someone wasn't interested he would just move on, no harm, no foul. Shawn wasn't sure he'd invested anything more than a smile in dating since ... well probably since he stole his dad's car to try to impress a girl.
"I don't think stealing a car would impress Lassy," Shawn quipped to himself. "Although he might handcuff me if I did ..." Shawn set that distracting train of thought aside for some other time.
Shawn heated up the grill on the patio and finished up prepping the salad. Shawn had decided that baked potatoes were mind numbingly boring and had decided to prepare steak fries instead. Shawn set the fryer up on the patio as well so he would have unrestricted access to both. Rack for draining fries, plate for resting the steaks.
Shawn's expectation that Lassiter would be alarmingly punctual was confirmed when at exactly nine the doorbell rang.
Lassiter was wearing a deep blue shirt and khaki pants. Shawn had a soft spot for that shirt, it did something gorgeous to Lassiter's eyes. He'd forgone tie, jacket, and Shawn was glad to see: holster. His hair was still disturbingly impeccable and Shawn had to resist the urge to muss it up. Shawn took in every detail, quickly and efficiently, filing them away. Lassiter didn't seem to realize he was being checked out, he still looked a little surly but offered up a bottle of wine, clutching it a bit like a shield.
"Lassy, welcome to my humble apartment. Come on it."
Lassiter's scowl deepened but he came inside the apartment and began to instantly take in the room: exits, weapons, windows, obstacles, Shawn was familiar with the checklist. Shawn pulled down two glasses and tried to remember where he would have left the bottle opener. He then remembered he didn't have one and pulled a swiss army knife out to serve as a corkscrew. Lassiter handed over the wine bottle and let Shawn take care of the bottle.
Shawn poured two glasses and headed out towards the patio. "I'll get the steaks started up."
The patio wasn't big enough for the grill, the fryer, Shawn and Lassiter so the detective parked near the open door.
"It's a nice apartment," Lassiter finally offered. Obviously the detective was just as bad at small talk as he had appeared at first glance.
"Oh, yeah. I picked it up when I came back to Santa Barbara. The parking is horrible, but you can't beat the location."
"What's so special about the location?"
"Near the beach, far, far away from Henry's" Shawn smiled. That hadn't actually been a consideration but he still loved the little apartment. Shawn let the steaks sit to grill and started on the first round of frying.
"Spencer, you don't strike me as the cooking type."
"Carlton, I will have you know I have quite a bit of experience cooking all sorts of things, I make a mean chicken tikka masala, flan, rack of lamb, beef lo mien, you name it. But for tonight I have limited myself to rib eyes, fries, and a caesar salad. No pineapple, strawberries, or mint. Scouts honor."
A quick look back inside the apartment showed Lassiter with a rather incredulous look on his face. "You were not a scout."
"Junior Bobcats since I was eight." Shawn pulled the first round of fries out of the fryer and while the oil came back up to heat he flipped the steaks. "Medium rare ok?" Lassiter just grunted.
"How did you manage scouts if you wound up being stalked by a raccoon when you went camping?" Of course Lassiter would remember that.
"Gus. He was much better at that camping thing. He protected me from the whiles of the killer raccoon. Besides, what Henry failed to mention is that he was one tent over with Annette who was screaming and hiding from a snake, so it's probably genetic."
"Annette?"
"My mom, she likes camping about as much as I do."
"You know, some people call their parents 'mom' or 'dad'." Shawn ignored Lassiter's comment, focusing on the steaks and second round of fries. He set aside the steaks to rest and pulled out the fries. Shawn turned off the grill and fryer and dragged the food inside.
"Not at the Spencer house."
Shawn cleaned off the table and laid out silverware, dinner plates, salad plates, and various fixings. Salad was retrieved from the fridge and Shawn directed Lassiter to the table.
"We can start in on salad while the steaks are resting." Lassiter nodded and took a seat across from Shawn. He was radiating enough tension that Shawn could swear he could feel his own shoulders knotting up from the stress. "Relax, Carlton, I make an amazing salad!"
Lassiter actually stared at the salad as though it might be slightly toxic. Shawn actually forked a small pile of salad on to Lasstier's plate when he made no move to serve himself.
"Spencer, why are we having dinner?"
"I thought that would be abundantly clear. Two coworkers share after dinner drinks, I then invited you over for dinner, you accepted, and now we are eating dinner. You even brought wine!" Shawn commended himself for his artful dodging of the question and dug into his salad. Lassiter eventually followed suit.
"This isn't half bad, Spencer."
"Wait until you try the steak."
They shared a few minutes of eating in silence. Shawn was groping around for anything to start a conversation. It was usually a lot easier than this, his dad had always taught him to shut up and pay attention when someone was talking. Of course, Shawn usually only applied that to people wanted to sleep with and it had certainly paid off so far, but Lassiter was not one to take the conversation initiative.
Shawn tried to think up an innocuous question that didn't involve being stranded on a deserted island and if Lassiter would make out with him. Gus was right, this dating thing was hard work.
Shawn dished out the steaks and the fries, less than artfully arraigned on a festive tangerine orange plastic plate. Lassiter looked slightly amused by the plates but said nothing.
Shawn cut himself off a section and was pleased to note that his steak was perfect. Lassiter also seemed suitably impressed with the steak. Shawn avoided a celebratory fist pump and instead tried to think of something else to ask.
"You know, you truly are the king of stoicism, Carlton, but sooner or later I hope you'll give it up so I can understand what makes you tick."
"Spencer, I don't know what strange reasons you have for this but I didn't come here for an interrogation. In fact, I'm not even sure why I'm here. You have got to be one of my least favorite people on the planet."
"Lassy," Shawn drawled the name, "Carlton, I'm just trying to be friendly."
Lassiter glowered but seemed to at least settle down slightly. Shawn was relatively sure he wasn't getting up to leave because of the truly awesome steak.
"What do you do when you're not solving crime, playing golf, or reenacting the civil war?" Lassiter glared. "I for one enjoy wake boarding, motorcycling, playing darts, watching ESPN, cooking, watching old movies, solving crime, and, of course, bothering Gus. But I will try anything once."
Shawn couldn't exactly be sure if it was his voice or what he was saying but Lassiter seemed to still be annoyed with him.
"Can we try eating in silence?"
"I tried that once, it wasn't fun at all. Although Annette was always rigorous with the no talking with food in your mouth rule." Shawn paused for a few seconds, enjoying another bite of steak. "I'm an only child."
"I never would have guessed."
"I love pineapple, but I have a feeling you wouldn't share that love. It is a forbidden love."
"Spencer, I do not believe for a second you are actually interested in any of the answers to all your little questions."
"Carlton, I would listen attentively to anything you chose to say. But you are an artful master of long silences, I'm just filling a need." Lassiter didn't answer. Shawn was pretty sure he didn't say anything for at least a minute and it was really starting to wear him down. "Ok, ok ... Gus said I needed to make new friends."
"What?"
"Gus. He said I needed to get out and make new friends."
Shawn commended himself for his artful use of mostly-truth. Gus had mentioned that although there was no substitute for best friends who steal your Captain Delicious mood-ring and get you into trouble and the Mexican border, they could both use some additional friends. Of course, Gus had also insisted that Shawn had gone entirely insane to try to date Lassiter so ... Shawn figured it just about evened out.
"You? You gave the toast at McNab's wedding. O'Hara has subjected me to a recounting of some sort of manicure/pedicure thing you did with her last week."
"She was neglecting her cuticles."
"The entire department loves you."
"And yet here we are."
"It's because you want a 100 percent closure rate, I understand. I'm your one hold out in your little fantasy land where tea leaves and palm readings solve crime."
"Now you do have a point," Shawn lowered his voice a little and spoke in a half-whisper, "I find your resistance to my incredible skills and talents frustrating and yet alarmingly enticing."
"I guess you'll just have to get used to being frustrated, Spencer."
"Yeah," Shawn was pretty sure he didn't sigh much more than usual, and went back to his steak, slightly deflated.
pairing: Carlton/Shawn
rating: PG
disclaimer: Not mine, Never will be
summary: Shawn and Lassiter have a date! It's a shame Lassiter doesn't realize that's what it is.
Previous Parts:
[One] | [Two]
Unnumbered future parts:
[ N ] | [N+1]
Shawn wasn't much of a planner, and he never had been. But he was discovering an untapped well of foresight for his dinner with Lassiter. He might be a bit unfocused, but there were many lessons Henry Spencer drilled into his son: detective work, his memory, and the proper planning for a cookout.
Henry's butcher was able to come through in the end and was able to provide a great steak, well two, good color, nice marble, and Shawn decided that he was ready for some serious grilling and set them aside for Friday.
The afternoon after the 'double date' at Tom Blair's Pub Shawn lounged in the Psych office watching a previously tivoed morning news. Gus came in after work and an intense round of foosball was had by all.
"Have you gotten over your weird crush on Lassiter yet?" Gus slouched down into his chair, obviously deflated.
"Gus, it's not a weird crush. I know he's not my usual type but he's just ... mmm!"
Gus obviously didn't want to hear Shawn's observations on the appeal of Lassiter, he made a disgusted face and shook his head. Shawn just grinned.
"Besides, I invited him over for a date this Friday."
"Shawn, you're nuts! He probably doesn't even realize it's a date."
"I see you've found the one flaw in my otherwise incredibly clever plan," Shawn sighed. It was true. The effort would be wasted if Lassiter wasn't interested. "It's a risk I'm willing to take, Gus. Besides, it's not like I'm going to jump him, it's just dinner, maybe a few drinks."
"Shawn, you haven't been in a serious relationship for years, and you were never very good at it when you *were* trying."
"You're right, I'm a horrible boyfriend. But I'm an excellent cook. All I need is a little practice. Besides I ..." Shawn trailed off.
"Oh my God, you actually like him. This isn't just some horrendously bad idea crush, you actually like him. You two have nothing in common!"
"We ... like fishing?"
"You hate fishing, Shawn."
"Do you think he likes motorcycles?"
"I doubt it."
"Ok, ok, we both like solving crime. And women, we both like women."
"I think that's another *huge* hurdle in your poorly thought through plan for dating him, Shawn."
"Oh come on, Gus, stop being so negative. I have an awesome collection of skills that are good for impressing men and women alike with my startling flexibility and versatility. Lassiter just needs a little more time to fully comprehend exactly how amazing I am."
"Just don't screw this up, Shawn. I like living in Santa Barbara."
"I wont, I promise." And Shawn was startled to realize he actually really believed himself on this one.
Shawn continued to be just a little nervous for the two days, he didn't actively seek out cases and none fell into his lap. Instead he spent the time wrapped up in playing video games or watching sports of ESPN. Several times he had the urge to get out and try to pick up something gorgeous and blonde but every time he got to a bar he never seemed to manage the appropriate small talk to make any headway.
And thus Shawn was stuck with the moral conundrum: was it still cheating if the other person didn't realize you were dating?
Thankfully Friday eventually arrived. Not that Shawn expected much, but he could at least flirt with the detective shamelessly. One plus side of straight men is that they never seemed to notice a little flirting, went right over their heads.
Shawn reflected on his own ridiculous taste in men. Usually, it someone wasn't interested he would just move on, no harm, no foul. Shawn wasn't sure he'd invested anything more than a smile in dating since ... well probably since he stole his dad's car to try to impress a girl.
"I don't think stealing a car would impress Lassy," Shawn quipped to himself. "Although he might handcuff me if I did ..." Shawn set that distracting train of thought aside for some other time.
Shawn heated up the grill on the patio and finished up prepping the salad. Shawn had decided that baked potatoes were mind numbingly boring and had decided to prepare steak fries instead. Shawn set the fryer up on the patio as well so he would have unrestricted access to both. Rack for draining fries, plate for resting the steaks.
Shawn's expectation that Lassiter would be alarmingly punctual was confirmed when at exactly nine the doorbell rang.
Lassiter was wearing a deep blue shirt and khaki pants. Shawn had a soft spot for that shirt, it did something gorgeous to Lassiter's eyes. He'd forgone tie, jacket, and Shawn was glad to see: holster. His hair was still disturbingly impeccable and Shawn had to resist the urge to muss it up. Shawn took in every detail, quickly and efficiently, filing them away. Lassiter didn't seem to realize he was being checked out, he still looked a little surly but offered up a bottle of wine, clutching it a bit like a shield.
"Lassy, welcome to my humble apartment. Come on it."
Lassiter's scowl deepened but he came inside the apartment and began to instantly take in the room: exits, weapons, windows, obstacles, Shawn was familiar with the checklist. Shawn pulled down two glasses and tried to remember where he would have left the bottle opener. He then remembered he didn't have one and pulled a swiss army knife out to serve as a corkscrew. Lassiter handed over the wine bottle and let Shawn take care of the bottle.
Shawn poured two glasses and headed out towards the patio. "I'll get the steaks started up."
The patio wasn't big enough for the grill, the fryer, Shawn and Lassiter so the detective parked near the open door.
"It's a nice apartment," Lassiter finally offered. Obviously the detective was just as bad at small talk as he had appeared at first glance.
"Oh, yeah. I picked it up when I came back to Santa Barbara. The parking is horrible, but you can't beat the location."
"What's so special about the location?"
"Near the beach, far, far away from Henry's" Shawn smiled. That hadn't actually been a consideration but he still loved the little apartment. Shawn let the steaks sit to grill and started on the first round of frying.
"Spencer, you don't strike me as the cooking type."
"Carlton, I will have you know I have quite a bit of experience cooking all sorts of things, I make a mean chicken tikka masala, flan, rack of lamb, beef lo mien, you name it. But for tonight I have limited myself to rib eyes, fries, and a caesar salad. No pineapple, strawberries, or mint. Scouts honor."
A quick look back inside the apartment showed Lassiter with a rather incredulous look on his face. "You were not a scout."
"Junior Bobcats since I was eight." Shawn pulled the first round of fries out of the fryer and while the oil came back up to heat he flipped the steaks. "Medium rare ok?" Lassiter just grunted.
"How did you manage scouts if you wound up being stalked by a raccoon when you went camping?" Of course Lassiter would remember that.
"Gus. He was much better at that camping thing. He protected me from the whiles of the killer raccoon. Besides, what Henry failed to mention is that he was one tent over with Annette who was screaming and hiding from a snake, so it's probably genetic."
"Annette?"
"My mom, she likes camping about as much as I do."
"You know, some people call their parents 'mom' or 'dad'." Shawn ignored Lassiter's comment, focusing on the steaks and second round of fries. He set aside the steaks to rest and pulled out the fries. Shawn turned off the grill and fryer and dragged the food inside.
"Not at the Spencer house."
Shawn cleaned off the table and laid out silverware, dinner plates, salad plates, and various fixings. Salad was retrieved from the fridge and Shawn directed Lassiter to the table.
"We can start in on salad while the steaks are resting." Lassiter nodded and took a seat across from Shawn. He was radiating enough tension that Shawn could swear he could feel his own shoulders knotting up from the stress. "Relax, Carlton, I make an amazing salad!"
Lassiter actually stared at the salad as though it might be slightly toxic. Shawn actually forked a small pile of salad on to Lasstier's plate when he made no move to serve himself.
"Spencer, why are we having dinner?"
"I thought that would be abundantly clear. Two coworkers share after dinner drinks, I then invited you over for dinner, you accepted, and now we are eating dinner. You even brought wine!" Shawn commended himself for his artful dodging of the question and dug into his salad. Lassiter eventually followed suit.
"This isn't half bad, Spencer."
"Wait until you try the steak."
They shared a few minutes of eating in silence. Shawn was groping around for anything to start a conversation. It was usually a lot easier than this, his dad had always taught him to shut up and pay attention when someone was talking. Of course, Shawn usually only applied that to people wanted to sleep with and it had certainly paid off so far, but Lassiter was not one to take the conversation initiative.
Shawn tried to think up an innocuous question that didn't involve being stranded on a deserted island and if Lassiter would make out with him. Gus was right, this dating thing was hard work.
Shawn dished out the steaks and the fries, less than artfully arraigned on a festive tangerine orange plastic plate. Lassiter looked slightly amused by the plates but said nothing.
Shawn cut himself off a section and was pleased to note that his steak was perfect. Lassiter also seemed suitably impressed with the steak. Shawn avoided a celebratory fist pump and instead tried to think of something else to ask.
"You know, you truly are the king of stoicism, Carlton, but sooner or later I hope you'll give it up so I can understand what makes you tick."
"Spencer, I don't know what strange reasons you have for this but I didn't come here for an interrogation. In fact, I'm not even sure why I'm here. You have got to be one of my least favorite people on the planet."
"Lassy," Shawn drawled the name, "Carlton, I'm just trying to be friendly."
Lassiter glowered but seemed to at least settle down slightly. Shawn was relatively sure he wasn't getting up to leave because of the truly awesome steak.
"What do you do when you're not solving crime, playing golf, or reenacting the civil war?" Lassiter glared. "I for one enjoy wake boarding, motorcycling, playing darts, watching ESPN, cooking, watching old movies, solving crime, and, of course, bothering Gus. But I will try anything once."
Shawn couldn't exactly be sure if it was his voice or what he was saying but Lassiter seemed to still be annoyed with him.
"Can we try eating in silence?"
"I tried that once, it wasn't fun at all. Although Annette was always rigorous with the no talking with food in your mouth rule." Shawn paused for a few seconds, enjoying another bite of steak. "I'm an only child."
"I never would have guessed."
"I love pineapple, but I have a feeling you wouldn't share that love. It is a forbidden love."
"Spencer, I do not believe for a second you are actually interested in any of the answers to all your little questions."
"Carlton, I would listen attentively to anything you chose to say. But you are an artful master of long silences, I'm just filling a need." Lassiter didn't answer. Shawn was pretty sure he didn't say anything for at least a minute and it was really starting to wear him down. "Ok, ok ... Gus said I needed to make new friends."
"What?"
"Gus. He said I needed to get out and make new friends."
Shawn commended himself for his artful use of mostly-truth. Gus had mentioned that although there was no substitute for best friends who steal your Captain Delicious mood-ring and get you into trouble and the Mexican border, they could both use some additional friends. Of course, Gus had also insisted that Shawn had gone entirely insane to try to date Lassiter so ... Shawn figured it just about evened out.
"You? You gave the toast at McNab's wedding. O'Hara has subjected me to a recounting of some sort of manicure/pedicure thing you did with her last week."
"She was neglecting her cuticles."
"The entire department loves you."
"And yet here we are."
"It's because you want a 100 percent closure rate, I understand. I'm your one hold out in your little fantasy land where tea leaves and palm readings solve crime."
"Now you do have a point," Shawn lowered his voice a little and spoke in a half-whisper, "I find your resistance to my incredible skills and talents frustrating and yet alarmingly enticing."
"I guess you'll just have to get used to being frustrated, Spencer."
"Yeah," Shawn was pretty sure he didn't sigh much more than usual, and went back to his steak, slightly deflated.