FIC: "Right Place, Wrong Time" by Regann - PG-13/R - Shawn/Lassiter (2/??)
Title: Right Place, Wrong Time (2/??)
Author: Regann
Pairing: Shawn/Lassiter
Rating: PG-13/R
Disclaimer: I don't own anything; I just play with them.
Notes: This is a long multipart fic that I had to be insane to even start. But I love the boys so much, I just had to! Oh, and this is dedicated to pookaseraph.
Summary: 17-year-old Shawn has a fake ID burning a hole in his pocket, a college party to crash, and a mission to stop being the only virgin in his senior class. Unfortunately, there's this big-earred, good-doing grad student by the name of Carlton who catches him in the act. The unfair nature of cosmic humor being what it is, thus begins something that'll come back to haunt them both ten years later -- when an adult Shawn Spencer decides to give psychic investigation a try.
Past Parts: 1
Right Place, Wrong Time (Part 2)
When he'd first taken his fake ID and dragged him from the frat party, Shawn had decided that there was no one he hated more at that moment than the tall, big-eared dumb ass who had taken it upon himself to ruin Shawn's cosmically-blessed plan for the night.
Who was he, Shawn had wanted to know, to think that it was his place to screw up Shawn's fun?
Still, Shawn hadn't been able to stop himself from noticing nice things about him, either. Like he was tall and strong, and had been fairly pleasant when Shawn had accidentally knocked into him -- something a lot of people wouldn't have been.
He had also noticed that Carlton had some of the bluest eyes he'd ever seen on a real person. The only person who'd had eyes as nearly blue was his Statistics teacher, Mrs. Webb, but he knew for a fact that she wore colored contacts over her naturally blue eyes to make her irises that electric color. He could look at Carlton's and tell it was all natural.
So, Carlton wasn't bad to look at and was probably a nice guy under that gruff exterior; really, stopping a kid from breaking the law was actually a good thing to do, except that it was Shawn he was stopping. In any other instance, Shawn might even approve.
Then there was the fact that Carlton had singled him out and caught him in his deception, something only his parents and Gus had never been able to do with any consistency. That, as much as anything, intrigued Shawn.
Somewhere between talking to the frat boys at the door and his pithy Jump Street reference, Shawn had decided that, as far as back-up plans went, Carlton wasn't a bad one, at least in lieu of the partying and drinking. He'd have to get to know the guy a little better before he decided if he would be an acceptable replacement for the ditzy, blond fantasy that Shawn had hoped to know carnally before he returned to Santa Barbara.
Of course, going with Carly for that ultimate objective would necessitate a little more explanation with Gus come morning and a little more preparation come the actual act that night but Shawn was nothing if not flexible, be it in regards to his sexuality, his plans or his dazzling conversational skills. Luckily, he'd had his sexual identity crisis the summer before when he'd realized that he'd be just as happy doing Jason Priestley as he would be doing Shannon Doherty during a very illuminating game of Truth or Dare at Angie Delgado's summer pool party.
And it wasn't like Carlton wasn't sparking a few fires for Shawn. Not that he wanted to examine it too closely but he hadn't exactly been unhappy about being dragged and slung around, even when Carlton's grip had left red marks on his arms.
The more he thought about it, the surer he was that he wasn't even going to touch that particular kink he seemed to have.
"So, where to first?" Shawn asked as he gamely followed Carlton. They'd finally walked the short distance back to the campus proper. "Another party? Your dorm? What?"
"No and no," Carlton told him. "We're going to eat."
"Eat?" Shawn frowned. "Doesn't sound very exciting, Carlton. I'd much rather be drinking and dancing or something."
Carlton shot him a dark look as he led him toward on of the campus's parking lots. Shawn didn't remember passing it on his earlier rounds about the school, so he figured it was one of the residential lots for students living on-campus. "Do you have your real ID with you?"
"No?"
"Then we can't go anywhere you'll be carded then, Einstein," Carlton told him. "Which rules out anything other than G-rated entertainment."
"Why? I've still got my other one. Well, you still have it but still..."
He stopped next to a vehicle, a nondescript economy car. "The whole point of me babysitting you is to keep from you breaking the law and getting in trouble."
"Babysitting?" Shawn scoffed. "Carlton, I'm hurt."
He just rolled his eyes. "If you're coming, get in."
Shawn actually paused for a moment. Despite his best efforts, he couldn't stop himself from hearing his dad's voice in his head, warning him never to get into a car with a stranger. Of course, Henry had also forbade him to sneak out of the house, drink alcohol and a hundred other things he did on a regular basis and didn't get caught doing. Taking a deep breath, he yanked the passenger door open and threw himself into the seat.
"Though maybe you'd changed your mind," Carlton mused as he started the car, shooting Shawn an amused glance that said he knew exactly what had been passing through his mind.
"Me? Never," Shawn said, followed by another little nervous laughter.
That seemed to amuse Carlton even more and he almost cracked a smile as he pulled his car out of the lot and headed off campus.
Even as he tried to squash his nervousness, Shawn couldn't help but tap his fingers idly against the car door, keeping beat with some tuneless song in his head. If he'd been in Gus's car or driving with his mom, he'd have fiddled with the radio dial but since he didn't know Carlton all that well, he figured he had better not press his luck.
They didn't drive very far; Shawn had just started to relax when Carlton turned into the parking lot of a small Mexican-style restaurant. They ducked into the little establishment and Shawn looked around with interest, quickly noting the thirteen people inside, that there seemed to be only two waitresses and that there was a crack in the glass of the framed photograph hanging on the back wall.
"Ah, Carlton, buenos noches," said the hostess in heavily-accented English, leading Shawn to believe that this must be one of Carlton's usual hangouts. "I see you have a friend with you tonight."
"Er, yes," he said, smiling back at the woman. Shawn noticed that he looked much nicer when he smiled. "Got a place for us tonight, Teresa?"
"For you, always," she smiled. She led them to a nice, cozy booth in the back, right near the bathrooms and the broken-glassed photograph. Teresa left them with menus and promised to send their waitress over with sodas as soon as possible.
"Well, this is nice," Shawn observed, tapping his fingers on the scratched table top. "Quiet, secluded...are you trying to tell me something?"
"Be quiet and figure out what you want to eat," Carlton told him evenly.
Defeated, Shawn opened his menu and stared at the selections. It took him about thirty seconds to decide he'd get an order of fajitas, so he re-closed it and laid it aside. "I'm assuming from that touching scene with Senorita Teresa that you come here often?"
"Good food, good prices, close to campus," Carlton said by way of an affirmation. "We used to have some of our study groups here."
"Oh really? And what is it you study, Carlton?"
He lowered his menu before answering. "Criminology, actually."
Shawn couldn't believe his luck -- or rather unluck. Could he not ever escape the long arm of the law? "So you are kinda like a cop."
"Not really," he replied. "Not yet, anyway."
"No wonder you went all Dudley Do-Right on me," Shawn continued. "It's very cute, how law-abiding you are."
Carlton rolled his eyes and laid his menu aside. "Figured out what you want to order?"
Shawn took the cue and let the matter drop, just in time for the waitress to arrive with their drinks and take their orders. When she took their menus away, Carlton turned back to him. "So, what about you?"
"What about me?"
"What's your major?"
"I'm...undecided at the moment," Shawn hedged. He figured he was lucky that Carlton thought he was an underage undergraduate and not an even-more-underaged high school student. "Not even sure if this college thing is for me or not."
"You've got time to decide," Carlton said. "Another few semesters before you really need to declare. You're young yet."
"Yeah, about that...just how old are you? You talk like you're ancient."
"I'm twenty-five -- which makes me several years older than most incoming students." He looked at Shawn pointedly.
That made for about a eight-year age difference, Shawn quickly calculated. Probably even more than Carlton thought. "I thought it only takes, like, four years to finish college."
"It does. What's your point?"
"Well, you're still here."
Carlton snorted and mumbled something like "stupid freshman" under his breath. "I'm in the graduate program. I'm working on my MAS."
"Your mass of what?"
This time, Carlton's snort was more like a laugh and less like a sound of irritation. Shawn considered it a success. "M-A-S. Master of Applied Science."
"Ah, that makes more sense." Shawn took a gulp of his soda and grinned. "So, that means you're, like, really smart, right?"
"Something like that," he mumbled, looking a bit pink in the face.
The conversation lulled a bit but the food arrived so Shawn had something else with which to occupy himself. Carlton seemed similarly inclined and silence hung over the table. Shawn took the chance to cast his gaze out over the restaurant and even farther out over the parking lot through the front window.
His gaze landed on a thing of beauty and he couldn't help his low whistle of appreciation.
"What?" Carlton asked around a mouthful of quesadilla.
He pointed toward the motorcycle that was parked right in front of the restaurant's window. "Dude, that's beautiful."
Carlton looked at it for a moment. "You like dangerous stuff, don't you?"
Shawn tore his gaze away from the sweet ride to look quizzically at his companion. "I don't know what you mean by that."
"Motorcycles, fake IDs, getting in cars with strangers...they're all pretty dangerous pastimes for a kid."
"Point one, just because I'm younger than you doesn't make me a kid," Shawn protested. "Point two, you're almost a cop and I feel perfectly safe with you."
"You missed my point entirely."
"No, I didn't. You think I like things that'll get me trouble, right?"
"Right."
"Well, I like you," Shawn said, watching him out of the corner of his eye, trying to add a little something to his voice by lowering it. "Are you gonna get me trouble, Carlton?"
Carlton almost choked on the soda he'd been drinking. Shaking his head, he set his glass down. "I'm still thinking about it. Security's looking better and better."
"Oh, come on, you know you're having fun with me," Shawn argued. "And you owe me -- something fun! Exciting!"
"Wasn't dinner enough?"
"Why, you paying?"
**
Carlton did pay for the entire meal, though he wasn't exactly sure how it happened. That, along with a few other small things, gave him the insane impression that he was on some kind of cracked-out date. It had all the earmarks of one: awkward conversation, studied silences, his footing the bill for it all. Carlton figured it was a sign that Rodney had been right about him working too hard that his time spent with Shawn that evening was the closest thing he'd had to a successful social outing in months.
As hysterical as the idea was, Carlton couldn't shake the similarities between his present situation and a "date" as Shawn cajoled and wheedled him until he agreed on another stop and they somehow ended up at the coast.
"The beach?" Shawn scoffed, even as he scrambled out of the car. "I could've went to the beach at home."
"Well, we're not that far from Anaheim," Carlton pointed out.
"Anaheim? Oh yeah, Anaheim." Shawn said distractedly. He was looking out over the ocean, eyes scanning the blue horizon. "I guess it's a nice beach, though. Very...sandy."
"It's one of its main attractions," Carlton said dryly. "That and the water."
Despite the arguable humor in his words, Shawn laughed, a sound only slightly tinged with the nervousness he'd displayed off-and-on all evening. "You're probably onto something there."
Carlton nudged the kid with his elbow. "I didn't drive out here to look at the sand from the parking lot. Let's go."
"Sure thing, Carlton," Shawn said eagerly, jogging a little to keep up with Carlton's long-legged stride. Their particular stretch of the beach was empty and they were alone as they traipsed along the water's edge.
As surprising as it was, Carlton was enjoying himself even though it seemed counter-intuitive that he should enjoy spending time with a freshman who had essentially tried to blackmail him into hanging out. Maybe that was part of the charm, he thought. And Shawn was charming in his own way -- excited, eager, grinning, energetic. Shawn reminded him of a particularly playful wolfhound puppy that his uncle Seamus had once had, as adorable as it had been irritating.
"So a cop, huh?" Shawn said after a few minutes of silence.
Carlton smiled, secretly surprised that the kid had let the silence last for as long as it had. The boy seemed determined to fill every minute with chatter and whenever Carlton fell down on his side of the conversation, Shawn seemed perfectly willing to take up the slack. "Yeah, it's what I've always wanted to do," he explained.
"Why didn't you just go straight to the academy, then? You could've saved yourself a lot of time and money."
"Education is never a waste, Shawn," Carlton told him.
"Yeah, I know. Just saying."
"I want to be the best," Carlton admitted. "It seemed like this was the best way to make sure I could."
"I hear ya, Carly, I do," Shawn said. He had his hands jammed down into his front pockets. "So, do you wanna stay around here when you get finished or head back to Carpinteria?"
Carlton's feet slowed and he eyed the kid with suspicion. "I didn't tell you I was from Carpinteria."
"I know."
"How did you know then?"
"I saw it on your driver's license," Shawn shrugged.
Carlton patted his back pocket to make sure his wallet was still there. "Did you steal my wallet when I wasn't looking?"
"No, of course not!" Shawn protested.
"Then how did you know what my license says?"
"I saw it when you had it out at the restaurant," he explained simply, shrugging again.
Carlon thought back to when he’d had it open -- maybe for about five seconds, just long enough to pull some cash out for dinner. And Shawn had been on the opposite side of the booth. “You could read it from there?”
“Yeah,” Shawn nodded. “I also saw that you have a local library card, your student ID, a very new-looking American Express, a MENSA card -- see, I knew you were smart! -- and that you laminated your Social Security card.” Shawn wagged his finger at him, making a tsk-ing noise with his tongue. “That’s against the law, you know.”
Carlton didn’t need to check his wallet to know that Shawn was right on the money. “And you saw all that? And remembered? After just a few seconds?”
“Well, yeah.”
“Wow. That’s impressive, Shawn,” Carlton laughed. “Amazing, actually.”
“Really?” Shawn perked up, his grin lighting up his whole face. “Seriously?”
“Yes, seriously,” he assured him. “I wish I could do that.”
“Thanks, man,” Shawn said, still grinning. “It’s a finely-honed skill that most people don’t appreciate, let me tell you.”
“You mean you get in trouble for snooping, right?” Carlton guessed.
“Got it in one, dude,” Shawn admitted laughingly and Carlton couldn’t stop himself from laughing, too.
“Maybe you’re the one who should become a cop,” Carlton observed, mostly in jest.
Shawn’s smile faded a little, and he started looking at his feet again. “That has been...suggested to me, actually.”
“You don’t seemed too thrilled with the idea,” Carlton said.
“For awhile, I thought about it,” Shawn told him. “I mean, it’s a noble profession. Cops are, like, heroes, right?”
“I think so,” Carlton admitted.
“Yeah, exactly but...” Shawn shook his head. “I’m not sure it’s right for me, you know?”
“I can see where someone might feel that way,” he said. “What’s your problem with it?”
“At the moment? That my dad wants me to do it.”
Carlton tried to hide his humor at Shawn’s response. “Well, that’s hardly the job’s fault, yeah? For what it‘s worth, I think you could be good at it.”
“Once I get my Mass in Criminology like you, you mean?” Shawn asked. Carlton could tell that he was trying to make it a joke but there was something serious underneath the question.
“No,” he finally answered. “I think you could do fine without any of that.”
He’d thought that Shawn’s smile had been broad before but it was nothing compared to what he got in response to his last statement. The best word Carlton could find to describe it was “incandescent.” “Thanks, man.”
“For what?” Carlton asked. “I’m just saying what I think.”
“Then...maybe I’m thanking you for thinking it.”
Carlton shook his head. “They sure grow ‘em weird in Anaheim.”
Shawn cut his eyes at him, smirking. “Oh, Carly, you have no idea.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Shawn laughed and waved his head, as if dismissing the question. “Never mind, it’s nothing. But I do have a question.”
“Yeah?”
“If you didn’t really wanna drink or party, what were you doing at the frat house to begin with?”
Carlton rolled his eyes. “It wasn’t my idea. My roommate talked me into it, mostly because he needed some “alone time” at the apartment.”
“Ah.” Shawn’s voice was low, husky. “A foxy lady, huh?”
He laughed. “No, not Rodney.”
Shawn looked confused. “Guy?”
“Project,” Carlton supplied.
Shawn’s look of confusion only deepened, lines crinkling around his eyes. “Okay, what kind of project would he need “alone time” with? I’m thinking bad, bad thoughts here.”
Once again, Carlton found himself amused. “Not like that. He wanted some peace and quiet so he could work and apparently the sound of me breathing distracted him too much. So I offered to go out for a few hours.”
“No offense but he sounds like a nutcase,” Shawn told him.
“He’s fine, most of the time,” Carlton said. “But he’s a little stressed right now. It’s too close to the end of the semester for his taste.”
“Not for me!” Shawn declared, throwing his arms out wide. Carlton had to sidestep in order to keep from getting smacked. “I cannot wait until summer is here!”
“Ready to go home?”
“Ready for school to be O-V-E-R,” Shawn corrected.
Reminded of the reason he was out of the house in the first place, Carlton checked his watch. “It’s been a couple hours. I can probably head back now.”
Shawn suddenly didn’t look so carefree. “What about me?”
Carlton gave him a blank look. “What about you? I’ll give you a ride back to campus, of course.”
“No, no, no, it’s not that simple,” Shawn told him, his bluish-gray eyes wide and entreating. “I don’t have anywhere to go.”
“What about your dorm room?”
“Same deal as you,” he explained. “Just that I promised I’d be out all night.”
“Let me guess...”
“Yep, foxy lady visitin’ the roomie.”
Carlton sighed and looked away from Shawn’s pitiful expression which he probably practiced in the mirror for just such an occasion. “Well, what was your original plan on where to stay tonight when you made that deal?”
“I figured I’d...I don’t know...” Shawn made a little dancing motion with his fingers. “Maybe hook up with someone and crash with them. But then you dragged me away from the party before I even had a chance to talk to anyone...”
“Are you blaming me for this?” Carlton raised an eyebrow.
“Well, if the shoe fits, Carlton!”
He glanced down at the kid at beside him, whose face was torn between smiling winsomely and looking reprovingly at him for ruining his night. For a minute, Carlton wondered if it was the full moon that was making him do stupid things like... “You can crash at my place for a few hours.”
“Yeah!”
“While you call around and look for somewhere else to stay,” he added quickly. “If Rodney didn’t like me breathing, he’s certainly not going to like you...visiting.”
“I can be quiet, like a little church mouse,” Shawn swore. “You’ll never even remember I’m there!”
Carlton looked over the scrawny, grinning boy one more time. “I seriously doubt that.”
To Be Continued...
Author: Regann
Pairing: Shawn/Lassiter
Rating: PG-13/R
Disclaimer: I don't own anything; I just play with them.
Notes: This is a long multipart fic that I had to be insane to even start. But I love the boys so much, I just had to! Oh, and this is dedicated to pookaseraph.
Summary: 17-year-old Shawn has a fake ID burning a hole in his pocket, a college party to crash, and a mission to stop being the only virgin in his senior class. Unfortunately, there's this big-earred, good-doing grad student by the name of Carlton who catches him in the act. The unfair nature of cosmic humor being what it is, thus begins something that'll come back to haunt them both ten years later -- when an adult Shawn Spencer decides to give psychic investigation a try.
Past Parts: 1
Right Place, Wrong Time (Part 2)
When he'd first taken his fake ID and dragged him from the frat party, Shawn had decided that there was no one he hated more at that moment than the tall, big-eared dumb ass who had taken it upon himself to ruin Shawn's cosmically-blessed plan for the night.
Who was he, Shawn had wanted to know, to think that it was his place to screw up Shawn's fun?
Still, Shawn hadn't been able to stop himself from noticing nice things about him, either. Like he was tall and strong, and had been fairly pleasant when Shawn had accidentally knocked into him -- something a lot of people wouldn't have been.
He had also noticed that Carlton had some of the bluest eyes he'd ever seen on a real person. The only person who'd had eyes as nearly blue was his Statistics teacher, Mrs. Webb, but he knew for a fact that she wore colored contacts over her naturally blue eyes to make her irises that electric color. He could look at Carlton's and tell it was all natural.
So, Carlton wasn't bad to look at and was probably a nice guy under that gruff exterior; really, stopping a kid from breaking the law was actually a good thing to do, except that it was Shawn he was stopping. In any other instance, Shawn might even approve.
Then there was the fact that Carlton had singled him out and caught him in his deception, something only his parents and Gus had never been able to do with any consistency. That, as much as anything, intrigued Shawn.
Somewhere between talking to the frat boys at the door and his pithy Jump Street reference, Shawn had decided that, as far as back-up plans went, Carlton wasn't a bad one, at least in lieu of the partying and drinking. He'd have to get to know the guy a little better before he decided if he would be an acceptable replacement for the ditzy, blond fantasy that Shawn had hoped to know carnally before he returned to Santa Barbara.
Of course, going with Carly for that ultimate objective would necessitate a little more explanation with Gus come morning and a little more preparation come the actual act that night but Shawn was nothing if not flexible, be it in regards to his sexuality, his plans or his dazzling conversational skills. Luckily, he'd had his sexual identity crisis the summer before when he'd realized that he'd be just as happy doing Jason Priestley as he would be doing Shannon Doherty during a very illuminating game of Truth or Dare at Angie Delgado's summer pool party.
And it wasn't like Carlton wasn't sparking a few fires for Shawn. Not that he wanted to examine it too closely but he hadn't exactly been unhappy about being dragged and slung around, even when Carlton's grip had left red marks on his arms.
The more he thought about it, the surer he was that he wasn't even going to touch that particular kink he seemed to have.
"So, where to first?" Shawn asked as he gamely followed Carlton. They'd finally walked the short distance back to the campus proper. "Another party? Your dorm? What?"
"No and no," Carlton told him. "We're going to eat."
"Eat?" Shawn frowned. "Doesn't sound very exciting, Carlton. I'd much rather be drinking and dancing or something."
Carlton shot him a dark look as he led him toward on of the campus's parking lots. Shawn didn't remember passing it on his earlier rounds about the school, so he figured it was one of the residential lots for students living on-campus. "Do you have your real ID with you?"
"No?"
"Then we can't go anywhere you'll be carded then, Einstein," Carlton told him. "Which rules out anything other than G-rated entertainment."
"Why? I've still got my other one. Well, you still have it but still..."
He stopped next to a vehicle, a nondescript economy car. "The whole point of me babysitting you is to keep from you breaking the law and getting in trouble."
"Babysitting?" Shawn scoffed. "Carlton, I'm hurt."
He just rolled his eyes. "If you're coming, get in."
Shawn actually paused for a moment. Despite his best efforts, he couldn't stop himself from hearing his dad's voice in his head, warning him never to get into a car with a stranger. Of course, Henry had also forbade him to sneak out of the house, drink alcohol and a hundred other things he did on a regular basis and didn't get caught doing. Taking a deep breath, he yanked the passenger door open and threw himself into the seat.
"Though maybe you'd changed your mind," Carlton mused as he started the car, shooting Shawn an amused glance that said he knew exactly what had been passing through his mind.
"Me? Never," Shawn said, followed by another little nervous laughter.
That seemed to amuse Carlton even more and he almost cracked a smile as he pulled his car out of the lot and headed off campus.
Even as he tried to squash his nervousness, Shawn couldn't help but tap his fingers idly against the car door, keeping beat with some tuneless song in his head. If he'd been in Gus's car or driving with his mom, he'd have fiddled with the radio dial but since he didn't know Carlton all that well, he figured he had better not press his luck.
They didn't drive very far; Shawn had just started to relax when Carlton turned into the parking lot of a small Mexican-style restaurant. They ducked into the little establishment and Shawn looked around with interest, quickly noting the thirteen people inside, that there seemed to be only two waitresses and that there was a crack in the glass of the framed photograph hanging on the back wall.
"Ah, Carlton, buenos noches," said the hostess in heavily-accented English, leading Shawn to believe that this must be one of Carlton's usual hangouts. "I see you have a friend with you tonight."
"Er, yes," he said, smiling back at the woman. Shawn noticed that he looked much nicer when he smiled. "Got a place for us tonight, Teresa?"
"For you, always," she smiled. She led them to a nice, cozy booth in the back, right near the bathrooms and the broken-glassed photograph. Teresa left them with menus and promised to send their waitress over with sodas as soon as possible.
"Well, this is nice," Shawn observed, tapping his fingers on the scratched table top. "Quiet, secluded...are you trying to tell me something?"
"Be quiet and figure out what you want to eat," Carlton told him evenly.
Defeated, Shawn opened his menu and stared at the selections. It took him about thirty seconds to decide he'd get an order of fajitas, so he re-closed it and laid it aside. "I'm assuming from that touching scene with Senorita Teresa that you come here often?"
"Good food, good prices, close to campus," Carlton said by way of an affirmation. "We used to have some of our study groups here."
"Oh really? And what is it you study, Carlton?"
He lowered his menu before answering. "Criminology, actually."
Shawn couldn't believe his luck -- or rather unluck. Could he not ever escape the long arm of the law? "So you are kinda like a cop."
"Not really," he replied. "Not yet, anyway."
"No wonder you went all Dudley Do-Right on me," Shawn continued. "It's very cute, how law-abiding you are."
Carlton rolled his eyes and laid his menu aside. "Figured out what you want to order?"
Shawn took the cue and let the matter drop, just in time for the waitress to arrive with their drinks and take their orders. When she took their menus away, Carlton turned back to him. "So, what about you?"
"What about me?"
"What's your major?"
"I'm...undecided at the moment," Shawn hedged. He figured he was lucky that Carlton thought he was an underage undergraduate and not an even-more-underaged high school student. "Not even sure if this college thing is for me or not."
"You've got time to decide," Carlton said. "Another few semesters before you really need to declare. You're young yet."
"Yeah, about that...just how old are you? You talk like you're ancient."
"I'm twenty-five -- which makes me several years older than most incoming students." He looked at Shawn pointedly.
That made for about a eight-year age difference, Shawn quickly calculated. Probably even more than Carlton thought. "I thought it only takes, like, four years to finish college."
"It does. What's your point?"
"Well, you're still here."
Carlton snorted and mumbled something like "stupid freshman" under his breath. "I'm in the graduate program. I'm working on my MAS."
"Your mass of what?"
This time, Carlton's snort was more like a laugh and less like a sound of irritation. Shawn considered it a success. "M-A-S. Master of Applied Science."
"Ah, that makes more sense." Shawn took a gulp of his soda and grinned. "So, that means you're, like, really smart, right?"
"Something like that," he mumbled, looking a bit pink in the face.
The conversation lulled a bit but the food arrived so Shawn had something else with which to occupy himself. Carlton seemed similarly inclined and silence hung over the table. Shawn took the chance to cast his gaze out over the restaurant and even farther out over the parking lot through the front window.
His gaze landed on a thing of beauty and he couldn't help his low whistle of appreciation.
"What?" Carlton asked around a mouthful of quesadilla.
He pointed toward the motorcycle that was parked right in front of the restaurant's window. "Dude, that's beautiful."
Carlton looked at it for a moment. "You like dangerous stuff, don't you?"
Shawn tore his gaze away from the sweet ride to look quizzically at his companion. "I don't know what you mean by that."
"Motorcycles, fake IDs, getting in cars with strangers...they're all pretty dangerous pastimes for a kid."
"Point one, just because I'm younger than you doesn't make me a kid," Shawn protested. "Point two, you're almost a cop and I feel perfectly safe with you."
"You missed my point entirely."
"No, I didn't. You think I like things that'll get me trouble, right?"
"Right."
"Well, I like you," Shawn said, watching him out of the corner of his eye, trying to add a little something to his voice by lowering it. "Are you gonna get me trouble, Carlton?"
Carlton almost choked on the soda he'd been drinking. Shaking his head, he set his glass down. "I'm still thinking about it. Security's looking better and better."
"Oh, come on, you know you're having fun with me," Shawn argued. "And you owe me -- something fun! Exciting!"
"Wasn't dinner enough?"
"Why, you paying?"
**
Carlton did pay for the entire meal, though he wasn't exactly sure how it happened. That, along with a few other small things, gave him the insane impression that he was on some kind of cracked-out date. It had all the earmarks of one: awkward conversation, studied silences, his footing the bill for it all. Carlton figured it was a sign that Rodney had been right about him working too hard that his time spent with Shawn that evening was the closest thing he'd had to a successful social outing in months.
As hysterical as the idea was, Carlton couldn't shake the similarities between his present situation and a "date" as Shawn cajoled and wheedled him until he agreed on another stop and they somehow ended up at the coast.
"The beach?" Shawn scoffed, even as he scrambled out of the car. "I could've went to the beach at home."
"Well, we're not that far from Anaheim," Carlton pointed out.
"Anaheim? Oh yeah, Anaheim." Shawn said distractedly. He was looking out over the ocean, eyes scanning the blue horizon. "I guess it's a nice beach, though. Very...sandy."
"It's one of its main attractions," Carlton said dryly. "That and the water."
Despite the arguable humor in his words, Shawn laughed, a sound only slightly tinged with the nervousness he'd displayed off-and-on all evening. "You're probably onto something there."
Carlton nudged the kid with his elbow. "I didn't drive out here to look at the sand from the parking lot. Let's go."
"Sure thing, Carlton," Shawn said eagerly, jogging a little to keep up with Carlton's long-legged stride. Their particular stretch of the beach was empty and they were alone as they traipsed along the water's edge.
As surprising as it was, Carlton was enjoying himself even though it seemed counter-intuitive that he should enjoy spending time with a freshman who had essentially tried to blackmail him into hanging out. Maybe that was part of the charm, he thought. And Shawn was charming in his own way -- excited, eager, grinning, energetic. Shawn reminded him of a particularly playful wolfhound puppy that his uncle Seamus had once had, as adorable as it had been irritating.
"So a cop, huh?" Shawn said after a few minutes of silence.
Carlton smiled, secretly surprised that the kid had let the silence last for as long as it had. The boy seemed determined to fill every minute with chatter and whenever Carlton fell down on his side of the conversation, Shawn seemed perfectly willing to take up the slack. "Yeah, it's what I've always wanted to do," he explained.
"Why didn't you just go straight to the academy, then? You could've saved yourself a lot of time and money."
"Education is never a waste, Shawn," Carlton told him.
"Yeah, I know. Just saying."
"I want to be the best," Carlton admitted. "It seemed like this was the best way to make sure I could."
"I hear ya, Carly, I do," Shawn said. He had his hands jammed down into his front pockets. "So, do you wanna stay around here when you get finished or head back to Carpinteria?"
Carlton's feet slowed and he eyed the kid with suspicion. "I didn't tell you I was from Carpinteria."
"I know."
"How did you know then?"
"I saw it on your driver's license," Shawn shrugged.
Carlton patted his back pocket to make sure his wallet was still there. "Did you steal my wallet when I wasn't looking?"
"No, of course not!" Shawn protested.
"Then how did you know what my license says?"
"I saw it when you had it out at the restaurant," he explained simply, shrugging again.
Carlon thought back to when he’d had it open -- maybe for about five seconds, just long enough to pull some cash out for dinner. And Shawn had been on the opposite side of the booth. “You could read it from there?”
“Yeah,” Shawn nodded. “I also saw that you have a local library card, your student ID, a very new-looking American Express, a MENSA card -- see, I knew you were smart! -- and that you laminated your Social Security card.” Shawn wagged his finger at him, making a tsk-ing noise with his tongue. “That’s against the law, you know.”
Carlton didn’t need to check his wallet to know that Shawn was right on the money. “And you saw all that? And remembered? After just a few seconds?”
“Well, yeah.”
“Wow. That’s impressive, Shawn,” Carlton laughed. “Amazing, actually.”
“Really?” Shawn perked up, his grin lighting up his whole face. “Seriously?”
“Yes, seriously,” he assured him. “I wish I could do that.”
“Thanks, man,” Shawn said, still grinning. “It’s a finely-honed skill that most people don’t appreciate, let me tell you.”
“You mean you get in trouble for snooping, right?” Carlton guessed.
“Got it in one, dude,” Shawn admitted laughingly and Carlton couldn’t stop himself from laughing, too.
“Maybe you’re the one who should become a cop,” Carlton observed, mostly in jest.
Shawn’s smile faded a little, and he started looking at his feet again. “That has been...suggested to me, actually.”
“You don’t seemed too thrilled with the idea,” Carlton said.
“For awhile, I thought about it,” Shawn told him. “I mean, it’s a noble profession. Cops are, like, heroes, right?”
“I think so,” Carlton admitted.
“Yeah, exactly but...” Shawn shook his head. “I’m not sure it’s right for me, you know?”
“I can see where someone might feel that way,” he said. “What’s your problem with it?”
“At the moment? That my dad wants me to do it.”
Carlton tried to hide his humor at Shawn’s response. “Well, that’s hardly the job’s fault, yeah? For what it‘s worth, I think you could be good at it.”
“Once I get my Mass in Criminology like you, you mean?” Shawn asked. Carlton could tell that he was trying to make it a joke but there was something serious underneath the question.
“No,” he finally answered. “I think you could do fine without any of that.”
He’d thought that Shawn’s smile had been broad before but it was nothing compared to what he got in response to his last statement. The best word Carlton could find to describe it was “incandescent.” “Thanks, man.”
“For what?” Carlton asked. “I’m just saying what I think.”
“Then...maybe I’m thanking you for thinking it.”
Carlton shook his head. “They sure grow ‘em weird in Anaheim.”
Shawn cut his eyes at him, smirking. “Oh, Carly, you have no idea.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Shawn laughed and waved his head, as if dismissing the question. “Never mind, it’s nothing. But I do have a question.”
“Yeah?”
“If you didn’t really wanna drink or party, what were you doing at the frat house to begin with?”
Carlton rolled his eyes. “It wasn’t my idea. My roommate talked me into it, mostly because he needed some “alone time” at the apartment.”
“Ah.” Shawn’s voice was low, husky. “A foxy lady, huh?”
He laughed. “No, not Rodney.”
Shawn looked confused. “Guy?”
“Project,” Carlton supplied.
Shawn’s look of confusion only deepened, lines crinkling around his eyes. “Okay, what kind of project would he need “alone time” with? I’m thinking bad, bad thoughts here.”
Once again, Carlton found himself amused. “Not like that. He wanted some peace and quiet so he could work and apparently the sound of me breathing distracted him too much. So I offered to go out for a few hours.”
“No offense but he sounds like a nutcase,” Shawn told him.
“He’s fine, most of the time,” Carlton said. “But he’s a little stressed right now. It’s too close to the end of the semester for his taste.”
“Not for me!” Shawn declared, throwing his arms out wide. Carlton had to sidestep in order to keep from getting smacked. “I cannot wait until summer is here!”
“Ready to go home?”
“Ready for school to be O-V-E-R,” Shawn corrected.
Reminded of the reason he was out of the house in the first place, Carlton checked his watch. “It’s been a couple hours. I can probably head back now.”
Shawn suddenly didn’t look so carefree. “What about me?”
Carlton gave him a blank look. “What about you? I’ll give you a ride back to campus, of course.”
“No, no, no, it’s not that simple,” Shawn told him, his bluish-gray eyes wide and entreating. “I don’t have anywhere to go.”
“What about your dorm room?”
“Same deal as you,” he explained. “Just that I promised I’d be out all night.”
“Let me guess...”
“Yep, foxy lady visitin’ the roomie.”
Carlton sighed and looked away from Shawn’s pitiful expression which he probably practiced in the mirror for just such an occasion. “Well, what was your original plan on where to stay tonight when you made that deal?”
“I figured I’d...I don’t know...” Shawn made a little dancing motion with his fingers. “Maybe hook up with someone and crash with them. But then you dragged me away from the party before I even had a chance to talk to anyone...”
“Are you blaming me for this?” Carlton raised an eyebrow.
“Well, if the shoe fits, Carlton!”
He glanced down at the kid at beside him, whose face was torn between smiling winsomely and looking reprovingly at him for ruining his night. For a minute, Carlton wondered if it was the full moon that was making him do stupid things like... “You can crash at my place for a few hours.”
“Yeah!”
“While you call around and look for somewhere else to stay,” he added quickly. “If Rodney didn’t like me breathing, he’s certainly not going to like you...visiting.”
“I can be quiet, like a little church mouse,” Shawn swore. “You’ll never even remember I’m there!”
Carlton looked over the scrawny, grinning boy one more time. “I seriously doubt that.”
To Be Continued...