Chapter 1: Ghosts
Notes:
In the end of season 2 Henry wanted Shawn over Saturday for his mom's arrival, probably for dinner. In that case she obviously arrived early, okay. In this ep they go out on Friday, though. And last season they made a point of pushing the case onto the second page of the newspaper to show Vick could keep her job, then in this one it's on the front page so Gus' boss could point it out.
Did this make me frustrated as hell while writing? Yes. Did I pin the whole thing on Henry? Also yes.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
“That was the promise you made when you fell head over heels in love, really, she thought. Not that you wouldn’t have problems, but that no problem would be the sort where you couldn’t find the solution together.” – Mhairi McFarlane
2000
“Why are we here?” Carlton asked, looking around the random suburban street in San José.
“1962 University Avenue, Lassie,” Shawn said like that should mean anything. Carlton arched an eyebrow at him. Shawn sighed in clear disappointment. “Professor Brainard’s house from Flubber, starring the immortal Robin Williams and Marcia Gay Harden.” He clasped Carlton’s chin and turned his head towards the two-story house on the other side of the street. “Take it in, sweetheart, this will become a national monument in the next five years. I hope when that happens they’ll put the observatory back.”
Carlton felt his patience thinning and it was only ten p.m. He took Shawn’s wrist to pry his hand off.
“And we came all this way for this?” he asked, thinking about the very comfortable bed he’d been dragged out of.
“What all this way?” Shawn rolled his eyes. “It was a fifteen minute drive from our hotel.”
“If I’m paying for the room I want to spend actual time in it beside sleeping,” the Alpha said resolutely.
“Don’t worry, Carly-cakes, I plan to use the hell out of that room – after we’re done here.”
“We’re supposed to be on vacation,” Carlton pointed out.
His boyfriend gave him a mocking smile.
“And remind me how long it took me to get you to take this vacation?” he asked. Carlton refused to answer that. “I would hardly call it a vacation anyway, it’s an extended weekend. You miss one work day and will be back at your desk Monday morning. Now…” he pressed a disposable camera in Carlton’s hand. “I need you to make a picture I can show off to Gus. He’ll be so jealous he’ll cry.”
Carlton could’ve argued that it was a private property but he didn’t actually want to stand on the sidewalk all day.
“Next time bring Guster to forgettable filming locations,” he muttered.
“Sure, I’ll take Gus on a romantic getaway next time,” Shawn said easily. “He’ll only freak out a little.”
He jogged over the road and made a ridiculous pose in front of the house like it was a car he was trying to sell. Carlton made three pictures because he had no intentions of coming back if Shawn wasn’t satisfied with it.
“Can we go now?” he asked when the Omega was back by his side.
Shawn pocketed the camera and pressed a quick kiss to Carlton’s cheek.
“Yeah,” he grinned. “Our hotel has a big pool I wanna try.”
Carlton suddenly had a very vivid image in his mind of Shawn in swim trunks that clung to his skin with water dripping off him and he was nodding before he fully realized it. Shawn’s grin turned into a smug smirk.
“Stop that,” Carlton grumbled as he got into the car.
“I tickled something there,” Shawn joined him. “Just think about it, all those other people there and my sexy ass belongs to you.”
“You’re a menace,” the Alpha muttered but he couldn’t hide the pleased little smirk his lips curled into.
“Yep,” Shawn agreed.
Present Day
Carlton was happy to be off duty because he finally had the opportunity to check up on how Shawn and Henry’s talk had gone. He really hoped the house was still standing, at least.
He parked at the back, checking that he had Shawn’s new phone in his pocket, and got out of the car, walking up to the back porch. He nervously patted his gun because the situation he was willingly getting into was not safe by any means and going in armed even if he didn’t intend to use it was giving him some peace of mind.
He opened the sliding door and stopped in his tracks. This was way worse than he’d expected.
“Carlton!” Madeleine greeted him with a genuine wide smile which Shawn had inherited.
Carlton sputtered for a response as she walked over to hug him.
“Maddie,” he finally said as he hugged back, trying to sound enthusiastic because he was happy to see her, but… “Didn’t expect you until tomorrow!”
“How come?” she pulled back with a small frown. “Henry told me he called you.”
Carlton glared at his father-in-bond over her shoulder who was busy in the kitchen but still gave them subtle glances every other second. It occurred to Carlton that this was the first time he was in the same room with both of them.
“He did,” he smiled back at Maddie. “He just said we would meet up Saturday.”
“Henry!” she turned to glare at him.
“I said Friday,” Henry spoke up, sounding almost defensive.
“You repeatedly said Saturday,” Carlton told him drily.
“That explains Shawn’s surprise,” Maddie said with a thoughtful frown.
Which raised the question that Carlton had been about to ask anyway.
“Where is Shawn?” he asked.
“Said he needed something from his room,” Henry told him but his tone was heavy with implications. “That was about fifteen minutes ago. Maybe he’s taking a nap.”
Or hiding.
“I’ll better check on him then,” Carlton said as he started for the stairs, then turned back to press a quick kiss on Maddie’s cheek. “It’s really good to see you again.”
Carlton had only been to Shawn’s childhood bedroom once, when he’d had to pick up something on his way home a year ago, but he knew the way. He was just about to knock when the door opened, his Omega standing on the other side. He blinked once in surprise at seeing Carlton, then grabbed his arm and pulled him inside, closing the door behind them.
“The hell, Lassie, did you know about this? Getting me to talk to my dad was some kind of trap? Are you two conspiring now?” he hissed like he was afraid his parents would hear them.
“Of course not!” Carlton narrowed his eyes at him. “I knew your mother was coming but I thought we’d meet her tomorrow, and Henry wanted to be the one to tell you about it. And it’s insulting that you think I would take his side over yours on anything important.”
Shawn did back down at that.
“You’re right. Sorry,” he muttered. “You still could’ve warned me.”
“I thought we’d have time to deal with it,” Carlton grimaced.
“We’ll have to make do,” Shawn grumbled. “You’re not allowed to leave me alone with Henry, though, after I have a few words with him.”
They walked downstairs together, and Maddie immediately handed both of them a glass of wine each. Shawn had downed his immediately which was worrying on its own. Carlton just listened in to the conversation until she mentioned she’d do evaluation at the SBPD.
“You’re working with us?” he asked.
“For the next week,” she smiled at him. Carlton already pitied whoever had to sit down with her. “When are our dinner reservations, Henry?”
“Oh, there’re dinner plans tonight!” Shawn looked between the two of them.
“You can make it, right?” Maddie turned to him and Carlton.
“We’ll be there,” Carlton said before either Shawn or Henry could open their mouths.
“Carlton told me you thought I was coming tomorrow,” Maddie looked at her son. “You didn’t have other plans, did you?”
“We didn’t have other plans. I– I didn’t know at all.”
“Didn’t know what?”
“That you were coming. Carly knew, but Dad told him he wanted to tell me the news himself, so…”
Maddie gave a sharp glance towards her ex-mate.
“Henry, why didn’t you tell him I was coming?”
“He doesn’t have a phone,” Henry gestured with his wine glass.
That reminded Carlton.
“Oh yeah, here,” he pulled out the cell he had in his pocket and handed it to Shawn. “I already put your SIM card in there. Don’t drown or break this one for at least a couple months.”
“Thanks, Lassie,” Shawn smiled at him, the first honest one Carlton had seen on him in the last half hour.
“Why do you need a new phone?” Maddie asked.
“I dropped my phone while I was solving a very important crime. It was on the front page of the newspaper yesterday.” It was the second page, dedicated to Carlton and it had been today, but Carlton kept his mouth shut. (Unless Shawn was talking about Vick’s demotion, which could be considered a crime in Shawn’s unusual way of logic and which had been solved by an article on the front page.) Shawn put down the glass. “Yeah. May I speak with you privately?” he asked Henry.
Carlton sipped his own wine. This was gonna be a long week.
During dinner Shawn drunk three glasses of wine and when they got home went straight for the scotch. Carlton took it from him the moment he started drinking straight from the bottle and kept him distracted with sex until Shawn finally fell asleep.
He hadn’t seen Shawn actually drunk in a long time and he didn’t need to be a psychologist to know the reason for it. He’d been strung high all evening, being unfailingly polite with Henry while having a strong grip on Carlton’s knee, but he was smiling softly at Maddie. At least it was the weekend now which could probably give both of them some breathing room.
He grabbed his coffee, skipped his morning run and went back to bed with a book. He wanted to be there when Shawn woke up, which happened after ten and with an obvious hungover because he was a lightweight.
“Ugh,” Shawn muttered into his pillow.
“Aspirin on the nightstand,” Carlton told him, keeping his book open but his eyes on his mate.
“I love you,” Shawn sighed, patting the Alpha’s thigh and pushed himself up to his elbows so he could reach for the medicine and the glass of water. As soon as he was done he let his head drop back on the pillow. “I don’t want to deal with this,” he stared up at the ceiling with bleary eyes.
“I guessed that from the way you drank yesterday,” Carlton raised his hand and gently ran his fingers over Shawn’s forehead and up into his hair. Shawn closed his eyes and turned his head with a contented sigh to give him better access.
“Okay, as soon as the nausea goes away we’re moving to Jamaica. Gus has a cousin that works as a bunny breeder, I’m sure we can work something out,” he said.
“We’re not going anywhere,” Carlton told him, hand lightly massaging the Omega’s scalp. “And I won’t have you sulking at me all weekend, so you better figure out something to do or I will.”
“I’m not gonna go through my stuff in the loft. I need all of that,” Shawn complained.
“That explains why they’re up there, still in the boxes they were in when we moved,” Carlton rolled his eyes.
“Fine,” Shawn agreed and turned to reach for his brand new phone. “Gus texted me yesterday a bunch. I’ll check out what he wants.”
Carlton went back to his book but he couldn’t have read more than half a page when Shawn sat up like he’d been electrocuted, dialing quickly.
“What?” he asked, slightly alarmed. The chances of it being from a snack emergency to Guster getting kidnapped were pretty even.
“Come on, Gus, pick up!” Shawn hissed into the phone, his voice tense, but then it probably went to voicemail, because he continued, “Dude, what do you mean you wanna quit Psych? Call back as soon as you get this!”
“Guster wants what?” Carlton asked, honestly shocked by it. Psych was as much Guster’s business as it was Shawn’s and Carlton needed the idiot to keep an eye on his bonded.
“His boss made him choose between his boring job and Psych and now Gus thinks he can bail on me,” Shawn summed up as he jumped out of bed, hangover forgotten, pulling on a clean pair of boxer briefs. “I gotta go and deal with this.”
“Do you need help?” Carlton frowned.
“Not yours,” Shawn said as he looked for his pants on the floor which Carlton translated to mean ‘illegal’.
“Don’t get arrested,” he sighed. Madeleine wouldn’t be happy if she had to visit Shawn in prison. Shawn quickly crawled over the bed for an eager kiss. Carlton scrunched up his nose. “And brush your teeth.”
Guster proved to be a better diversion than Carlton could ever have hoped to come up with.
He’d hardly seen Shawn all weekend and not because he’d got a case at a cat show since he and O’Hara had solved that in three hours, but his mate was up early Monday morning to escort Madeleine to the station in the backseat of the car.
They were hardly in the door when O’Hara spotted them.
“Carlton!” she hurried over. “The Chief wants to see you as soon as possible.” She focused on the two people next to him and smiled. “Hello, Shawn.”
“Hi, Jules!” Shawn smiled back, even if it lacked his usual enthusiasm.
Carlton turned to Maddie.
“This is my partner, Detective O’Hara,” he introduced her. “O’Hara, my mother-in-bond, Dr. Madeleine Spencer.”
“You’re Shawn’s mom!” O’Hara’s face lit up and she held out a hand. “It’s so nice to meet you.”
“You as well, Detective,” Maddie shook it. “Thank you for keeping Carlton safe.”
O’Hara blushed at the praise and her smile widened.
“Of course.”
“Come on, Mom, let’s leave Lassie to work. I wanna show you the interrogation rooms, you still have an hour until your first session starts,” Shawn took his mother’s arm, pressed a kiss on Carlton’s cheek and started leading her away. “See you later, Jules!”
“McNab!” Carlton caught the officer’s shoulder as the man tried to pass him, a bunch of files in his grip.
“Yes, sir?” McNab asked.
“See that woman with Spencer?” he pointed at the pair disappearing down the stairs. “That woman is the closest to a saint I know. You listen to every single thing she has to say and you give her everything she needs but do not get in her way. Got it?” That included jumping in front of a bullet if necessary.
McNab nodded quickly and seriously.
“Understood, sir,” he saluted, almost dropping the files before he hurried off to probably put them down before he started on his assignment.
“You’re really fond of her, aren’t you?” O’Hara grinned up at Carlton.
“I would walk through hell for Madeleine,” he said and meant it, if for nothing else because Shawn adored her. “Now, do you know what the Chief wants?”
“No, but I hope we don’t get another important case just yet,” she grimaced. “I’m behind on my reports as it is on the Wyles case.”
Yeah, Carlton was behind on paperwork, too. He hoped that whatever Vick wanted wouldn’t take up much of his time.
“Is this even allowed?” Carlton asked as he sat down on the couch opposite Maddie in the corner of the Chief’s office which she’d lent to them for the hour. “Aren’t there some ethical rules about not having sessions with family members?”
“If this were proper therapy then yes,” Madeleine conceded. “But it’s just a psychological evaluation.”
“Yeah, if it would be anyone else here, I would believe that,” Carlton disagreed. He’d had a couple vulnerable moments with the department’s usual shrink but he usually could keep himself from falling into any traps Devette set. “Did the Chief request you personally?”
“Why’d she have done that?” Maddie asked, sitting straight and being all attentive and unassuming.
“Because I actually like talking to you and you might pry things out of me,” he said and crossed his arms.
“I like talking to you, too,” she allowed herself a smile, brief but genuine. She didn’t deny the second half of the sentence, though. “So how about we do this? Just talking like we usually do?”
“No, because you’ll do the Shawn thing and you’ll analyze me which I think defeats the purpose of ‘just talking’.”
“I doubt Shawn analyzes you, Carlton,” she said but then added, “not all the time.”
“He would if he got paid for it. He does it to crime scenes.”
“You think you’re to me what crimes scenes are to Shawn?” Maddie asked, clearly amused.
“Maddie,” Carlton groaned painfully and tilted his head back against the cushion. She knew him enough that she could already write her damn eval report about him. Why was this even necessary?
“Carlton,” she said and when he looked back her brows were raised the same way Shawn’s always were when he expected Carlton to pull himself together. “This is not a personal attack against you and it’s not because Chief Vick thinks you can’t do your job.” Then she sighed and leaned a bit forward. “We don’t have to talk about why you pull your gun even if the need for it is doubtful. But we will have to talk about your job in general. So how about you tell me about your partner?”
That did stop Carlton for a moment.
“You want to talk about O’Hara?” he frowned.
“We have to start somewhere,” she said. “Either that or we can talk about how you feel about working with Shawn.”
Oh no, no way. Not because she would tell Shawn or anyone else, but Carlton’s feelings on that subject were too chaotic to work through easily.
“O’Hara’s fine.”
“So how was your session with my mom?” Shawn asked after he got home, a smug smile on his face and a satisfied swagger to his steps.
“Better than expected,” Carlton answered, closing the file he’d been going through and throwing it on the coffee table. He was surprisingly exhausted and of course he’d revealed more to Maddie than he’d wanted but… he trusted her to not use it against him in any way. He hoped that in the next two days at least he’d get something out of the sessions, too. Wasn’t psychology supposed to give him something in return for the personal information he provided?
“Did you talk about me?” Shawn asked, sitting down next to Carlton and giving him a quick kiss.
“Yeah, because I have nothing else going on in my life,” the detective rolled his eyes. “What’s going on with Guster?”
Shawn grinned.
“My plan to keep him in business is coming along nicely,” he said. “We’re helping out his boss’ boss with a haunting and Gus is handling it really well.”
“And when it turns out there’s no haunting going on?” Carlton asked because he didn’t know much about Shawn’s case but ghosts still didn’t exist.
“I’d have to mess up pretty bad for that to happen,” Shawn leaned back against him, a solid and familiar weight along Carlton’s side as he nestled his head into the Alpha’s shoulder, legs on the coffee table. “But I have a plan B that’s foolproof.”
“Shoes off,” Carlton scolded him even as he wrapped an arm around the Omega’s waist and Shawn kicked his sneakers off with a huff. “Glad to hear that you’re prepared at all. Usually you just wing it.”
“Yeah, but usually I’m not in danger of losing my best friend to a bunch of sleeping pills and foot cremes,” Shawn muttered, taking Carlton’s other hand and threading their fingers together. “I’m gonna take Mum to dinner. I need to spend some time with her, just the two of us.”
Without Henry, it went unsaid.
“That’s a good idea,” Carlton kissed his hair. “We could invite her here later this week, too, if you want.”
They’d offered her the guest room but Madeleine had said she was fine at the hotel and that she wouldn’t want to intrude on them. Carlton had a suspicion that she just liked her independence – Shawn was the same way even if it was in different things. He doubted Maddie would say no to a dinner, though.
“I’d love that, Lass,” Shawn turned to him with a smile. “And don’t worry about your psych eval. Mom will be fair. The only danger is anyone from Internal Affairs getting a hold of it and what are the chances of that?”
“You need to keep that damn lawyer away, get it?” Carlton ordered O’Hara through the phone. “I’ll be there in five minutes to talk to him.”
“He has a right to the details of the case, you know,” his partner said with a tired sigh.
“Of course I know, but if we could keep him away for another half an hour, he couldn’t do anything about it today,” Carlton said. He was just about to start the car when the passenger side opened and Shawn got in without a word, closing the door hardly. By his expression he was quietly fuming, by his scent he was genuinely angry. “O’Hara, I’ll call you back. I have total faith in you handling this.”
“What? Carlton –”
He hung up and looked at Shawn carefully. They were sitting right next to the restaurant where Shawn had been supposed to meet Maddie and it hadn’t been two minutes since he’d gotten out of the car, hurrying because he’d already been late. Carlton had been his ride here from the Haversham estate where the supposed haunting was taking place and he hadn’t expected to see Shawn until later tonight at home. That he’d stormed out of the place within five minutes, and that he looked like he was ready to hit something (which was Carlton’s thing) meant that something was seriously wrong.
“Shawn?” he asked, watching his mate’s face carefully.
“Henry,” was all Shawn said, short and sharp and furious.
“Henry was there?” Carlton glanced back at the restaurant with a frown.
“In a suit, ordering fancy food he would never eat if my mom wasn’t there,” the Omega gritted his teeth and Carlton noticed his hands curling into fists. He opened his mouth but Shawn cut him off. “Don’t. Just take me back to the Haversham house.”
Carlton started the car but he was stubborn enough to not let this go so easily.
“We will have to talk about this later,” he said resolutely.
“Oh, now you want to talk about things?” Shawn actually snapped at him. “Great that you’ve taken to psychology, but newsflash, Carlton, you’re not my fucking therapist!”
Carlton’s hands curled tighter around the wheel and he was sure he would’ve let this escalate into a shouting match but Shawn’s scent, hurt and bitter, made him swallow his anger back down. Because Shawn was obviously looking for a fight and Carlton wouldn’t give it to him.
“I know I’m not,” he said, calm despite the strain in his voice. “God knows I would’ve already strangled you if that were the case.” Shawn scoffed without any of his usual amusement and looked out the window, arms crossed over his chest. “But I am your Alpha. I want to help.”
He watched from the corner of his eyes as Shawn’s shoulders slowly slumped and a minute later he let out a deep sigh. He wasn’t relaxed by any means but the tension in him eased and some of the sweetness returned to his scent. Carlton knew that by the time Shawn got out of the car he’d pull himself together enough that even Guster wouldn’t be able to tell that something had happened at all.
They made the rest of the way in silence and Carlton’s thoughts turned to Henry. Something was not right. His father-in-bond’s behavior was too much like he wanted to impress Madeleine and as far as Carlton knew he’d been the one to leave in the first place. Except he’d been the one staying at the Spencer house and taking care of Shawn until Shawn had left. To get all that in a divorce would’ve required a ruthless and unrelenting mindset Carlton was sure Henry was capable of but… not against Maddie, and especially not against Shawn. And Maddie had had a job already waiting for her out of town…
He didn’t voice any of this out loud because implying that Maddie had been the one who’d left might be the only thing that would make Shawn really punch him.
“Stop here,” Shawn said, maybe half a mile from the house. “I don’t want them to know I’m back.”
Carlton didn’t even bother to ask, he just stopped in the middle of the road, keeping the headlights on and the engine running. Shawn pulled out the flashlight from the glove compartment along with a pack of Doritos and a Capri Sun from the stash there. He opened the door and hesitated before turning back and throwing his arms around Carlton’s neck, snacks and all, in a tight hug. Carlton hugged him back with a small huff that was almost a laugh.
“It’s gonna be fine,” he murmured against Shawn’s temple.
“Thanks, Lassie,” his mate whispered against his neck then pressed his lips there before he got out of the car. “I’ll see you at home,” he leaned back down, cocksure smile back in place.
“Don’t do anything stupid,” Carlton glared back half-heartedly.
“Of course, honey.”
“Henry!” Carlton stopped on his way back from interrogation. It was the middle of the day and there were only two reasons Henry could be at the station and the fact that he was wearing a semi-decent shirt reduced that to one.
“Hello, Carlton,” Henry greeted him, almost seeming upbeat. “You done with your psych eval?”
“Supposedly,” Carlton sighed. He’d had some revelations on Vick’s couch that were almost life-changing because Maddie was fantastic at her job but he really didn’t want to revisit that with Henry. He didn’t even know how his own father had come into the picture and he hoped to heaven that Madeleine wouldn’t ever bring that up again. He really needed to get his hands on her evaluation, just as a precaution. Vick would surely let him…
The door to the Chief’s office opened and Maddie walked out. Carlton noticed that something was wrong immediately, her eyes watery and her scent, so similar to Shawn’s, full of sorrow and regret.
Henry was there in a second, just as Carlton’s gaze drifted behind her, seeing Shawn through the blinds, his mate sitting on the couch, elbows on his knees and staring at the floor.
“Maddie, what happened?” Henry asked, an arm around her and a genuinely worried expression on his face.
“It’s alright,” she patted his arm with a small smile then she looked at Carlton and nodded towards the office.
Carlton stepped through the door carefully and closed the blinds before he did anything else. Then he walked to the couch and hesitated for only a moment before he sat down next to Shawn, keeping a couple inches between them. Shawn hadn’t moved, eyes still cast downwards and his scent had too many emotions in it for Carlton’s nose to recognize them.
“Mom was the one who left,” he said after a minute, not whispering but his voice still somehow muffled. He cleared his throat and straightened up a bit, still not looking at Carlton but he was blinking rapidly.
“I figured as much,” Carlton admitted.
Shawn’s laugh was bitter and self-deprecating and Carlton hated it.
“Of course you did,” he muttered and rubbed a hand over his face. “Almost thirteen years I blamed my dad and he just… didn’t correct me. The man’s corrected everything I’ve done all my life and he thought this would be the one he would let me be wrong about.”
And Maddie hadn’t told him before now either, because she probably hadn’t got a clue that something had been wrong in the first place.
“Would you have believed him?” Carlton asked. “If your mom hasn’t been the one to tell you, would you have believed anyone else?”
Shawn sniffed and surreptitiously wiped at his eyes. Over twelve years this was the closest Carlton had ever seen him to crying outside of watching movies (he was pretty sure Shawn was still not over Brokeback Mountain – or Love Actually because that one made him sob every single time).
“Probably not,” he sighed. “What am I supposed to do now?”
“How about we go home and watch Indiana Jones movies while eating that tub of pineapple ice cream I hid in the freezer?” Carlton offered. He didn’t have any major cases and he was caught up with paperwork – Shawn having a private case had given him a lot of time to work through everything.
That made Shawn turn towards him in surprise.
“You bought pineapple ice cream?” he asked. “And you hid it from me?”
“It’s behind the bag of dinosaur shaped chicken,” the Alpha said. Shawn just gaped at him as Carlton stood up and held out his hand. “Come on, I’ll even let you eat it on the couch.”
“That’s the least you can do after you hid it from me!” Shawn exclaimed as he took Carlton’s hand and let himself be pulled upright and then out of the station.
Notes:
We're back, baby!
Story time: While I was writing this fic, my own 2005 Echo (or Yaris, but it was literally identical to the Blueberry except for the color so whatever) had a run-in with an eight-wheeler. I got out pretty much unscatched but I had to sell the poor thing so someone with enough determination could fix her up. She was black, not blue, but she still gave me another connection to the show, even if I'd had her longer than I've been in the fandom. Goodbye, Blackberry, you were a reliable companion and I'm gonna miss you.
Chapter 2: Murder? … Anyone? … Anyone? … Bueller?
Notes:
Thank you for all the lovely comments on the first chapter! Your enthusiasm for this series makes me unbelievably happy. Y'all are the best!
Chapter Text
2000
Carlton walked into Shawn’s apartment without knocking, still a bit dizzy from the contents of the file in his hand.
Shawn paused the game on his Xbox.
“Lassie!” he beamed and the way the apartment was imbued with his scent was instantly relaxing (the only positive thing about the place, really). He threw the console down and stood up, bouncing over to pull Carlton into an eager kiss. Carlton melted into it with a sigh. “Hi,” Shawn gave him a disarming smile when he pulled back, their noses almost touching and his eyes were bright and gorgeous.
“Hi,” Carlton smiled back at him but he still felt wrong-footed somehow, trying to match the picture in front of him to the file. It wasn’t that hard, especially when Shawn’s brows furrowed just a bit, that laser-like focus making his gaze sharper.
“What?” he asked. Carlton straightened up and handed over the file without a word, then went to sit on the lumpy couch. Shawn turned after him but his gaze was focused on the SBPD’s seal on the front of the file, puzzled. Then he looked back at Carlton like he was looking for permission before he opened it. There was a flash of understanding on his face before his confusion was back. “This is a copy of my detective exam.”
“I found it with the others,” Carlton said and hadn’t that been a shock, spotting his boyfriend’s name in the drawer of that file cabinet. “You took this in ‘91.” Shawn gave the papers a considering hum. “You were fifteen.”
“I didn’t know Henry filed it,” he muttered, mostly to himself. His scent was a bit unbalanced but didn’t project anger like whenever his dad came up.
“That’s a perfect score, Shawn,” Carlton pressed, not even trying to hide his astonishment.
“Yeah,” Shawn agreed, finally looking up from under his lashes and biting his bottom lip in a rare show of nerves.
Carlton paused, debating whether he should ask, but then pressed on.
“How?”
He expected Shawn to make a joke as he often did when he was uncomfortable. It would come with a slight fidgeting of his hands and that smile that didn’t reach his eyes and Carlton was ready to drop it because his childhood and especially Henry was always a touchy subject and he wouldn’t press. Damn, he would wonder, but he wouldn’t press.
Instead, Shawn tilted his head back and muttered something under his breath Carlton couldn’t make out, then he was looking back at Carlton with unusual solemnity.
“You really wanna talk about this now?” he asked, his fingers playing with the corner of the file.
“If you want to tell me,” he replied because he’d learned early on that the harder he pushed Shawn, Shawn would push back just as hard, a need to resist that seemed almost instinctual. But Carlton was getting pretty good at interrogation and he’d learned that gentle prying or simply patience could pay off. He didn’t use those often because force was easier and the scum he used it against didn’t deserve softness, but Shawn was different. He was too important for Carlton to mess it up in any way, his trust too precious.
Shawn nodded in quiet determination, dropped the file on the scratched up coffee table and plopped down on the other side of the sofa, legs crossed and pillow pulled into his lap. His scent had a twinge of anxiety to it but he met Carlton’s eyes without flinching.
“What have you figured out so far?” he sighed. “You’re a detective, Carly, you must have an idea.”
Carlton slowly turned towards him, an arm thrown over the back of the couch and one knee pulled up so they were actually facing each other as he considered his answer.
“You’re frighteningly smart,” he started with the obvious, choosing his words carefully. “You have an exceptional memory and amazing observational skills. You remember everything and that’s not even an exaggeration. You notice the smallest signs and you know what they mean, know how to put the picture together when no one else even suspects there’s a picture to begin with. You’re the most brilliant person I’ve ever met.” Shawn actually blushed at the compliment which was a rare sight. Carlton hated that it would disappear if he continued, but Shawn had asked. “Henry wanted you to follow in his footsteps.” The Omega grimaced which was enough confirmation and Carlton knew he needed to be even more delicate. “That’s not rare, typical for Alpha parents. But that,” he gestured at the file on the table, “is not typical, Shawn. It took me months to prepare for that exam, I know exactly what kind of questions are in it and no way anyone without extensive training would be able to pass it, let alone get a perfect score, especially not a fifteen-year-old with ADHD.” He took a deep breath and let it out. “So. How?”
Shawn’s smile was a bit bitter when he answered with a question.
“Who said I didn’t have extensive training?”
Present Day
“I still don’t get why I need to go to this thing in the first place,” Shawn complained as he pulled on a checkered white shirt.
“Because Guster organized it and as his best friend you’re required to help out,” Carlton said as he went through the case file on his desk one last time. He’d have to be prepared for the hearing tomorrow. “I just don’t get why I have to go.”
He hadn’t even gone to his own high school reunion because he’d been working on a case and… oh God, the next one should be soon, shouldn’t it? He really hoped he would get out of that one, too. Not because he’d hated high school (though he found anyone who’d loved it a lunatic) but he really didn’t want to play nice with people whom he hadn’t talked to in almost twenty years. The only reason he should go would be –
“So I can show you off?” Shawn said the words circling in his mind.
Carlton looked up as Shawn disappeared into the bedroom and reappeared a moment later with a tie in each hand. He put on the black one then closed the file, casually sat down in Carlton’s lap and looped the bright blue one around his mate’s neck.
“You don’t care about what anyone thinks about you,” the Alpha pointed out, hands smoothing over Shawn’s waist. “Outside of Guster do you even remember any of them? You spent most of senior year on my couch.” Whether Carlton was present or not.
“Well, Lassie, I would’ve loved to spend it in your bed, but you were being pretty uptight about that,” Shawn tightened the knot.
“You saying you never once slept in it?” Carlton raised an eyebrow at him.
Shawn hummed, resting his arms around Carlton’s shoulders.
“I might have, for a nap or two,” he shrugged. “The pillows smelled like you and I didn’t get to use it for more fun things back then.” He pulled on Carlton’s tie so he could kiss him, slow and lingering. “You’re right, though, I really don’t care about any of my classmates. So it is your duty to keep me entertained through the night.”
They had to arrive early to help Guster out with any last-minute preparations. Guster was fussing over every little detail from the punch to the decorations, but they’d turned out rather great, Carlton had to admit.
“Shawn, that isn’t you, is it?” Guster asked as he looked at Shawn’s class picture which they were supposed to use instead of a name tag.
“No, it isn’t,” Shawn agreed.
“It’s Judd Nelson, isn’t it?” Guster glared.
“It might be easier that way, anyway,” Carlton cut in. “He was in his Judd Nelson phase all through senior year.”
“Thank you, Lassie-kins,” Shawn grinned at him.
“It wasn’t a compliment,” Carlton told him.
Shawn’s attention was diverted by the couple walking in. The Alpha was in a letterman’s jacket and cowboy boots.
“Whoa, look who just rolled in. Molly Ringwald and Andrew McCarthy. From Fresh Horses.”
“Howie Tolkin and Eileen Mazwell,” Carlton told him, earning twin looks of shock from the Omegas. “What? I came prepared because Shawn refuses to remember anyone.” Tolkin and Mazwell had been the prom king and queen and they still seemed to act like it.
“Aww, Lassie, you’re sweet,” Shawn gave him a peck on the cheek. “I didn’t even know we had a football team.”
“Okay, you two are officially too much for me,” Guster sighed and walked away.
Just seconds after the couple came a pretty blonde Alpha in a red dress and Shawn went still.
“Uh-oh. Abigail Lytar,” he muttered.
Abigail, Abigail… Excellent grades, member of the Yearbook Club and the Film Club. Now a kindergarten teacher, if Carlton remembered right. It didn’t explain Shawn’s reaction though. Carlton gave him a curious glance. His Omega almost looked embarrassed, his scent having a nervous edge to it.
“Don’t tell me she’s your ex,” Carlton rolled his eyes. He didn’t even know who in Shawn’s life would qualify as an ex. He knew about Lana Meltreger from eighth grade because Shawn had fond memories of her dad’s pork chop, but that had lasted for maybe a month which stretched the definition of an actual relationship in Carlton’s opinion.
“Not really,” Shawn shrugged, hands in his pockets. “I kinda had a huge crush on her, but then you showed up, so…” he trailed off. “I think we were kind of friends in the end.”
Thank God, another person Shawn had some connection with. Maybe Carlton wouldn’t have to suffer through this alone.
“Then go say hello, idiot,” Carlton grabbed his arm and made him move. Fortunately Shawn pulled himself together for the last couple steps.
“Abigail Lytar,” Shawn greeted her. She turned around, a small smile on her face as she looked at Shawn’s picture.
“Judd Nelson,” she said.
“In the flash,” Shawn grinned and they actually joked around for a minute before his Omega introduced him, puffing out his chest in pride. “This is my bonded, Carlton Lassiter. He’s the head detective of the SBPD.”
Abigail’s palm was warm and soft as they shook hands.
“Nice to meet you,” Carlton gave her a brief smile.
“Likewise,” she smiled back.
“Shawn! Hello, Abigail,” Guster appeared, giving a quick nod to her before he focused again on Shawn. “I need you to go to the cafeteria and grab another stack of folding chairs for me. We’re already short.”
“Consider it done,” Shawn agreed. “One problem: where’s the cafeteria?”
Guster was ready to take offense, but Carlton sighed.
“I’ll take him.”
Guster’s gaze turned suspicious.
“Did you memorize the blueprints, too?”
“No, I just had a case here a couple years back,” Carlton told him. He would’ve memorized the blueprints but he hadn’t had the time.
“Great!” Shawn grinned, then turned to Abigail, his previous nerves gone. “Wanna tag along?”
“He asked me out on a date every day for over a month, then one day he just stopped,” Abigail told Carlton as they walked the empty hallways of Leland Bosseigh High School.
“Oh yeah, that was probably my fault,” Carlton nodded. “We’ve met that year in October.”
“No, no, I want to thank you. It was really annoying,” she said with a smile.
“I can imagine. He propositioned me in an interrogation room, hours after I met him,” the detective smirked.
Abigail laughed.
“Did you accept?” she asked with a wicked glint in her eyes. Carlton already liked her.
“Guys, it’s great that you get along but I’m right here,” Shawn spoke up. “Don’t leave the psychic out.”
Of course he had to work this into the conversation.
“Sweet justice, don’t start,” Carlton groaned.
“You’re a psychic now?” Abigail scoffed in bemusement.
“A psychic detective,” Shawn nodded. “I happen to be very, very good at it. I solve crimes for the Santa Barbara Police Department. It’s kind of a big deal, isn’t it, Lassie?”
Abigail raised her eyebrows at him curiously.
“He tells everyone he’s psychic which he’s not, but he is called in to consult on cases,” Carlton sighed.
“Don’t listen to him, Carly not believing in my powers is the greatest tragedy of my life,” Shawn added.
“Okay, well, you be sure to let me know if you sense that, you know, someone here at the reunion is gonna steal my lunch money, so Carlton can arrest them,” Abigail laughed as they turned a corner.
“That’s very clever, but he would,” Shawn told her.
“Well, not if they didn’t have the time to actually steal anything,” Carlton pointed out, then noticed Shawn’s narrowed eyes looking out the window. “Oh no.”
They were out on the grounds beside the school in five minutes, chairs forgotten but Guster with them, ready to throw a fit. Shawn had apparently seen someone fall down from the roof right here.
“For a while I kinda thought they were dating,” Abigail whispered to Carlton as they watched the Omegas argue.
“It would make a twisted sort of sense, wouldn’t it?” Carlton hummed.
“No body, no crime, Shawn,” Guster closed the bickering by walking away and repeating that sentence over and over again until he disappeared in the building. Abigail soon followed.
“What is up with everyone?” Shawn asked. “And if you start saying that damn sentence, too, Lassie –”
“We had a poster at the station for a while with that damn sentence, but then it started giving people ideas so it got taken down,” Carlton told him, hands in his pockets. “But no, I believe you. Guster does, too.”
“And he won’t help me until there’s an actual body,” Shawn huffed.
“I’m calling O’Hara,” Carlton pulled out his phone. “Find us a corpse, Shawn.”
Shawn went to hunt Guster down while Carlton kept an eye on the comings and goings of the gym, paying extra attention to anyone who might want to sneak out. People tended to leave the crime scene as soon as possible after they’d killed someone.
“So you’ve found a dead body in a letterman’s jacket yet?” Abigail showed up by his shoulder right next to the buffet table, holding out a cup of punch.
“Not yet. Thanks,” Carlton took it, taking a careful sniff because he wasn’t an idiot, before he took a sip. He was relatively sure she wasn’t about to drug him. She’d been standing right in front of them when the supposed murder had happened. “How come you’re not out there enjoying yourself?” he gestured at the dance floor.
“Well, I’ve never taken part in a police investigation before,” Abigail shrugged. “I’m kind of curious.”
“Carly, I got it!” Shawn appeared from the crowd. “Ooh, punch,” he took the cup out of Carlton’s hands and chugged it down, wiping a thump across his lips after. “Thanks, I needed that. Anyway, I know who the murder victim is.”
“Who?” Carlton asked.
“Sabercats’ starting quarterback Howie Tolkin!” he announced.
“Shawn,” Abigail nodded towards the entrance.
Tolkin and his mate had just walked back in, arms around each other. Shawn gaped for a moment. Carlton arched an eyebrow.
“You know what?” Shawn gave a fake smile. “I’m gonna go sulk in a dark corner with the outcasts. Find me when Jules gets here.”
He marched away with a huff.
“Does he make mistakes like this often?” Abigail stage-whispered as she leaned closer.
“He usually accuses three people before he finds the real perp,” Carlton smirked a little. “He would say it’s a process.”
A couple feet away from them someone knocked a purse from the edge of the table to the floor, the contents of it skidding away. The guy didn’t even look back.
“Polite,” Abigail noted.
Carlton looked around to see if the owner had noticed what had happened but nobody was looking their way, so he and Abigail moved to pick up the stuff from all over the floor. She held out the purse for him and Carlton started throwing everything back in it… then he noticed something.
“Do you know anyone by the name of Elizabeth Reba Davis?” he asked and showed her the two prescription bottles. “Because I’ve heard of Mindy Howland but not Davis.”
Abigail blinked at the bottles for a moment.
“Oh.”
“I knew I should’ve done a background check on everyone here,” Carlton sighed as they stood up.
“Carlton!” his partner’s voice came from behind him. “Here you are. What was that about a dead body?”
He turned to tell O’Hara that he honestly had no idea but he closed his mouth as he saw her.
“Is that a prom dress?” he frowned at the poofy pink-red dress.
“No, it’s not a prom dress,” she gave him one of her ridiculously transparent lies.
“It does look like one,” Abigail piped up. “But I like it, it has a nice hemline.”
“Sorry, who are you?” O’Hara looked at her in confusion.
“You can get acquainted later,” Carlton interrupted. “O’Hara, Shawn thinks someone’s been murdered tonight but we don’t have a victim yet. Or a murderer. Go get Guster. Abigail, I’m entrusting you with this,” he pressed the bottles into her free hand, “and I owe you a drink if you keep an eye on Mindy Howland until we can arrest her.”
“Yeah, sure, it’s not like I had other plans tonight,” she said with a straight face but her voice was dripping with sarcasm. Carlton ignored it.
“Thanks.”
He left them to find Shawn. It took a couple minutes because he was talking to the aforementioned outcasts in a hallway by a battered-looking trophy case, away from the gym.
“There you are,” Carlton marched over. “Let’s go, Spencer, we don’t have all night.”
“Dude, you totally didn’t lie,” one of the men standing by the lockers said as Carlton neared them with a bit of awe. “You have a guy and he’s tall, dark and handsome.”
“I’m also a cop,” Carlton opened his jacket to show his holster with an unfriendly smile, then grabbed Shawn’s elbow and started leading him away.
“See, dudes, any one of us has a chance at finding happiness!” Shawn said over his shoulder before he stumbled over his own feet as they turned the corner. “Whoa, Lassie, I know murder cases get you eager but I can’t match your lanky legs, you know that.”
Shawn had managed to get his parents dragged into this to get his copy of the keys to every room in this damn school because of course he had those.
O’Hara quietly arrested Mindy Howland and took her to the station. Shawn’s current suspects, Tolkin and Mazwell were being interrogated (if you could call it that) by Guster and a volunteering Abigail. Since Guster was usually as subtle as a punch to the face, Carlton thought her natural tact and no-nonsense attitude could come in handy.
Shawn took Carlton up to the roof, the most likely place where their supposed murder victim could’ve fallen (or been pushed) off.
“We should slow dance here The Notebook style,” Shawn moved around the place, the fresh air probably giving him additional energy he didn’t need.
“We should look for evidence, Spencer,” Carlton tried to glare but Shawn grabbed his hand and pulled him close, his other palm resting on Carlton’s lower back.
“Come on, I couldn’t do this at my actual senior prom since it would’ve been weird if I’d taken you. I’ve been hoping to get that dance now but poor unknown murdered latterman’s jacket guy got in the way,” Shawn grinned giddily and Carlton hadn’t seen him this unabashedly happy since before Maddie’s arrival, so he let Shawn move them in dynamic circles over the roof, his free arm curling around the Omega’s ribs and up to his shoulder.
“This is not slow dance, Shawn,” he pointed out but Shawn’s sudden joy was contagious and Carlton was fighting back a smile. He was in love with an idiot.
“But you’re having fun,” his fake-psychic of a mate said, his face as delighted as his scent and Carlton wanted to keep it that way forever. “Sometimes I think you forget what the word even means.”
“That would be a challenge with you around,” Carlton said and Shawn’s smile both softened and widened and he almost led them crashing into one of the vents. “Watch it!”
“Chill, Carlton, I know what I’m doing,” Shawn replied with that bravado that Carlton was sure would one day get him shot, then the Alpha was dipped back as if this really was a cheesy rom-com, only one of Carlton’s bent knees and Shawn’s hand on his back keeping him up. “See?”
Shawn’s eyes were dark in the low light coming from below and he was looking down at Carlton with that same bright expression.
“Sweetheart, if you drop me, you’ll be the second person thrown off this roof tonight,” Carlton warned him but he probably looked completely smitten while saying it.
“Have a little faith, Lassie,” Shawn leaned in to steal a kiss but then stopped as his gaze strayed somewhere to the left and his smile turned into that amazed gaping he always had during a big realization.
Carlton craned his neck to follow his line of sight and could barely make out a distinctive, pointy footprint in the gravel that suspiciously looked like it belonged to a cowboy boot.
“Alright, Kevin Bacon, pull me up,” he sighed. It seemed the fun was over for now.
Carlton hadn’t had plans to go back to the station today when he’d left it this afternoon, but here he was, looking over O’Hara’s shoulder with Guster as she looked up a Peter Colter in the database while Shawn lounged in Carlton’s chair.
Shawn must’ve seen something in the pictures from the file of Colter’s involuntary manslaughter because he was standing a moment later, finger to his temple.
“Peter wasn’t driving the car that night. It was Howie.”
Which… must’ve been some friendship. Tolkin had been the Alpha at school and Peter was (had been?) an Omega, part of the football team, too, but it wasn’t impossible that he had been in love with Tolkin and thought it would be worth it to take the fall for him. Teenagers were morons.
There was still a small problem, though.
“But no body, no crime,” O’Hara frowned.
“Seriously, Jules? Lassie showed you that poster?” Shawn stared at her.
O’Hara glanced at Carlton.
“We have a poster?” she asked.
“It’s framed. I’ll show you later,” Carlton told her.
They were still debating where Colter’s body could be, and Shawn was probably right that it must still be at the school somewhere, that murder couple had no opportunity to take it anywhere else. Then Vick spotted them.
“What are the four of you doing here this late?” she glanced at her watch and O’Hara subtly angled away her computer screen so the Chief wouldn’t see it. When she looked up, she gave their outfits a quick assessment and folded her arms. “Why are you all dressed up? Were you at a prom?”
“Why would you say that?” O’Hara smiled nervously.
“Because you’re wearing a prom dress,” Vick told her. Carlton smothered a smug smile.
“We made a bust tonight, she’s already in holding,” he spoke up.
“False prescriptions under fake names,” O’Hara added with a nod.
Vick’s gaze jumped to Shawn who was looking at the ceiling and Guster who thought he could turn invisible by turning his back and not moving.
“Class reunion,” Carlton cut in before she could ask about their presence. “The perp was there.”
“I see. Well, good work, people,” the Chief gave them a brief smile before she started walking away and Carlton almost let out the breath he’d been holding when she turned back. “Oh, and by the way, whatever it is you’re really working on, you’re not being paid for this.”
“Wow,” Shawn said when he was sure she was out of hearing range. “Lassie, that was smooth. She didn’t buy it, but nice try. I’m proud,” he grinned.
Carlton rolled his eyes.
“Let’s find Colter, arrest Bonnie and Clyde and go home.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Guster agreed bitterly. “I think we’ll lose the deposit either way.”
Carlton gave the murder couple and their victim over to the uniforms to handle – he would deal with everything tomorrow. He walked back to the gym, and people already seemed to be over the arrest and murder that had happened tonight. A slower song was playing in the background, and he found Shawn talking with Abigail close to the podium. From his wide gestures and her grin Carlton could guess that Shawn was giving her his own version of the events.
“Sorry to interrupt,” he joined them, “but I have to steal Shawn away. I owe him a dance.”
“Really?” Shawn smiled at him brightly and already took Carlton’s hand.
“Of course,” Abigail smirked. “But you owe me a drink, Carlton. I’m gonna cash in on that.”
“Didn’t expect anything less,” he agreed.
“Come on, Lassie,” Shawn pulled him along. “See you later, Abby!”
They ended up in the middle of the dance floor, surrounded by couples but the gym was big enough that it didn’t feel crowded. Shawn threw his arms over Carlton’s shoulders and the Alpha pulled him closer until they were chest to chest, his own hands hugging Shawn’s waist. It felt more like swaying than dancing but Shawn was grinning at him the same way he had on the roof.
“So, this was less boring than I thought it would be,” he said.
“You mean the murder and running around trying to solve it all night?” Carlton asked with a touch of sarcasm.
“You enjoyed it better than if it would’ve been just some dull affair where we had to talk to people we don’t know,” Shawn raised his brows, still smiling and his scent was reflecting his contentment. Carlton’s love for him had been ingrained into every cell in the detective’s body a long time ago but right now he felt like his heart would burst from it. “They’re true mates, too, you know. Howie and Eileen, I mean. Been together since the first day of high school.” Carlton was sure they’d be less happy in prison. “We’d totally have done a better job at killing someone, though,” Shawn added casually.
“Of course we would’ve,” Carlton scoffed. “They didn’t even take care of the body properly. It would’ve been found by Monday.”
“Amateurs, right?” his Omega agreed. “But I think we should stick to solving crimes for now. We seem to be already amazing at that.”
“We do have help,” Carlton pointed out.
“Sidekicks are important,” Shawn smirked.
“Don’t let O’Hara or Guster hear you call them that,” the Alpha shook his head in amusement.
“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that,” Shawn nodded to the side and Carlton followed his gaze to see his partner and Guster, dancing and chatting together, one of O’Hara’s hand resting on Guster’s shoulder while the other clasped his at the side.
“What the hell?”
Guster said something that made O’Hara tilt her head back with a laugh. Carlton tried to move but Shawn must’ve expected it because he held on firmly.
“Nope, no,” he said, keeping Carlton in place. “C’mon, Carly, they’re cute, let them be. They have space between them for Jesus and Gus’ hand is in an appropriate place and everything.”
“But –”
“No,” Shawn lifted a hand to Carlton’s chin and turned his head back so they were looking at each other again. “It’s their business, we’re staying out of it.”
“You never stayed out of anything in your life,” Carlton argued.
“We’re dancing,” Shawn said resolutely. “They’re dancing. Separately, unless you want to do the Macarena and this song really isn’t great for that.”
Carlton huffed.
“Fine,” he agreed after another moment.
Shawn leaned in for a quick kiss.
“That’s the spirit. Now, how did Abigail earn a drink from you?”
Chapter 3: Daredevils!
Notes:
Amping up the angst here, just a little bit.
Chapter Text
2000
“You smell so good,” Shawn muttered as he pressed Carlton into the mattress, sucking lightly on Carlton’s neck before he scraped his teeth against the sensitive skin and made the Alpha shiver.
“Shawn,” he tilted his head back and let himself just enjoy it for a couple moments, his hands sneaking under Shawn’s t-shirt to start pulling it up, fingers smoothing up the Omega’s side in a way that made Shawn’s hips do that twitchy aborted movement that made both of them gasp for breath.
“Cheater,” Shawn complained, voice raspy and warm as he started attacking Carlton’s shirt buttons.
“Yeah, I’m the cheater,” he murmured as he sat up, and Shawn immediately dived in for a kiss, hungry and needy and trying to wrestle the shirt off Carlton’s shoulders. There was a low buzzing sound in the back of Carlton’s mind as he finally got rid of his shirt and pushed Shawn back an inch with great resolve. “Off.”
Shawn scowled as he pulled his t-shirt over his head and then he was back to kissing Carlton with an intensity that made the Alpha groan, like he was trying to fuse them together. Carlton moved, turning them on Shawn’s already messy bed until his boyfriend was under him, warm skin and lean torso, a hand in Carlton’s hair and the other gripping his back, heels digging into the detective’s thighs. His scent was making Carlton dizzy and he made quick work of the button of Shawn’s jeans. He should really get it off him, but that would mean they had to stop kissing…
The front door of the apartment burst open and a familiar voice rang through the rooms before Carlton could dive for his gun.
“Shawn, I saw your motorcycle in front of the building, I know you’re here!” Guster traipsed through the place and Shawn had enough sense to push a cursing Carlton off him before his best friend could reach the bedroom. “Shawn, what –” Guster stopped on the threshold, ugly sweater west and cotton pants and a phone in his hand.
“Hi, Gus,” Shawn waved as he quickly sat up on the bed. Carlton landed on the pillow next to him and was considering smothering himself with it.
“Why didn’t you lock the door?” he asked with an audible edge in his tone.
“I was busy when we came in, Lassie!” Shawn waved his hand. “You should remember, you didn’t exactly give me the time to lock anything. How should’ve I known that Gus would barge in here for no reason?”
“No reason?!” Guster asked, voice high-pitched and his free hand covering his eyes. “We were supposed to meet an hour ago in front of the movie theater! I tried calling you six times! Where the hell is your phone?”
Oh. That explained the buzzing Carlton had heard earlier.
“Uh,” Shawn tilted his head, obviously trying to think back, then reached towards the end of the bed and grabbed the cell from between the sheets.
“I’m going to kill you, Spencer,” Carlton said to the ceiling.
“Lassiter, please don’t talk unless you got a shirt on, I’m trying very hard to ignore your presence,” Guster said impatiently.
“Lassie, don’t you dare put on that shirt,” Shawn turned to him.
Carlton rolled his eyes and sent him a sharp look.
“I’m with Guster on this one,” he said and grabbed said shirt, pulling it on quickly as he stood up. Shawn watched with a pout and mournful eyes. “You didn’t tell me you’ve got plans.”
“I didn’t know about them either!”
“There’s a Morgan Freeman movie weekend, we’ve talked about this for a month!” Guster snapped and finally lowered his hand, glaring at Shawn.
“That’s next weekend!” Shawn argued.
“No, it’s this weekend,” Guster told him.
Shawn frowned.
“What day is it?”
Carlton sighed as he buttoned his cuffs.
“I can’t believe you, Shawn,” Guster crossed his arms, then suddenly turned to Carlton. “I already missed Shawshank Redemption but do you wanna watch Se7en?” he offered in a clipped tone. “We can complain about Shawn on the way.”
“What?” Shawn gaped at him. “Dude, you can’t be serious!”
“Sure,” Carlton pulled on his shoes. He pressed a quick kiss to a still frozen Shawn’s hair (because he had gotten used to the goodbye kisses, damn it), then was walking to the door. “Lead the way, Guster.”
“Guys, come on, you’re kidding me, right?” Shawn shouted after them. “What, so no movies and no sex, that’s what I get? That’s not fair! Guys!”
Present Day
Carlton waited until he was sure everything was under control before he started yelling.
“What the fuck, Spencer!” he turned on Shawn. “Are you completely out of your mind?”
“It was fine, Lassie,” Shawn objected.
“You were hanging off a goddamn ferris wheel!” Carlton shouted. Guster had enough sense that he’d backed away the moment he’d glanced at Carlton’s face.
The case itself really shouldn’t have been such a big deal, a simple theft which the people working at the carnival hadn’t bothered the police with. Shawn as a psychic somehow counted as trustworthy for them, though, and Shawn had spent the last two days with Guster running around the place. It should’ve been safe, but Carlton had arrived to see his Omega thirty feet high hanging onto a metal pole with the thief, and Guster panicking in one of the seats.
“I had it handled!” Shawn replied, completely undeterred. Carlton reached over and grabbed his left wrist, pulling up his whole arm with maybe a little more force than required. “Ow!”
“This is not how you should handle it!” he glared at the scrape down the inside of Shawn’s upper arm.
Shawn pulled himself free and glared right back.
“I’m not a child, Lassie, and you should remember that,” he hissed. “It was my case and I solved it. Gus shouldn’t have even called you.”
Carlton knew they were gathering attention from the people around them, it was still a carnival and it was a Friday, but he was beyond caring at the moment. He had enough of this; murderers, bounty hunters, drug dealers, secret societies and mummies of all things… And Shawn waltzed through those like it didn’t matter, like it was a fucking game and he was immortal and Carlton had enough.
“One of these times you really won’t call and we’ll find your body parts wrapped in plastic and thrown into the ocean,” he said lowly. “Don’t think I’ll deal with your recklessness indefinitely, Spencer.”
Shawn’s eyes narrowed at him and his scent turned sour with anger. Carlton knew he’d hit a nerve. His mate had been tetchy since Maddie had left a week ago, calling back issues Shawn still refused to deal with, especially now that he knew his mother was the one who’d left in the first place. Threatening him with the same thing now was unfair and Carlton knew it and right now he didn’t care. Maybe it would hammer his point home this time.
“Fine,” Shawn took a step back. “Do whatever you want, Lassie, and I’ll do the same. It’s not like I need your help.”
That hurt. They both knew it wasn’t true and Shawn said it as payback but it still hurt. Carlton felt his face twitch and Shawn, noticing everything, spotted it, shoulders pulled back in satisfaction.
“Fine,” Carlton spat. “See how long you last without it.”
He turned on his heels and marched away, carelessly knocking into Guster on his way out of here and towards his car.
He was in the middle of a case and had dropped everything to come and help Shawn. Apparently he wasn’t needed, so he can get back to that now. Great. Maybe he’d be able to actually do his job for once without Shawn’s interruptions and ridiculous fake visions.
O’Hara was way too chipper for Monday morning in Carlton’s opinion.
“You ready? Interrogation Room A,” she told him. They’d called in their main suspect and he’d arrived like clockwork, probably trying to seem innocent. No bother, Carlton had his facts ready and he’d break the guy in no time.
“Great,” he put on his suit jacket.
“So?” O’Hara asked.
“So what?” Carlton asked even though he knew exactly what this would be about. She’d spotted that something was wrong almost immediately after Carlton had come back from the carnival Thursday afternoon.
“You and Shawn made up?” she smiled brightly like even the idea of anything other than ‘yes’ was unimaginable.
“Well, I haven’t seen him in three days,” Carlton said as he straightened his tie. “So no, I wouldn’t say so.”
O’Hara’s face fell.
“Oh, Carlton, I’m sorry.” Carlton made a noncommittal sound and started his walk across the bullpen. His partner followed. “This is the first time I’ve seen you argue like this.”
“That’s not true. We argue all the time,” Carlton protested.
“No, you bicker. That’s totally different,” O’Hara pouted.
“Yeah, well, Spencer’s usually not such an ass,” Carlton shrugged.
“How can I help?” O’Hara asked, genuine and eager and Carlton turned to her on top of the stairs and put his hands on her shoulders.
“Thank you for your concern. I am fine,” he told her and then started down the stairs. “Interrogation Room A, right?”
“Yes,” O’Hara said after him.
Her offer was appreciated but unnecessary. It wasn’t his first serious argument with Shawn and it wouldn’t be the last. It wasn’t ideal, he’d already missed his Omega who probably only went home when he was sure Carlton wouldn’t be there, moving into his office for the rest of the day. The bed was always achingly empty and not in the way it usually was when Shawn was out for the night for one reason or another. Carlton felt his absence acutely, but he wasn’t about to seek his mate out. He was still angry and he knew he was right, damnit. Shawn deliberately putting himself in harm’s way wouldn’t end well and he wasn’t gonna apologize for pointing that out.
Shawn was probably thinking something similar, his stubbornness a match for the Alpha’s.
Carlton checked his phone before he walked into the room. The lack of missed calls or messages were actually comforting because if it was a life-or-death situation he was sure Guster would’ve tried to reach him despite Shawn’s objections. The bond only conveyed physical pain, it didn’t warn Carlton of any actual danger beforehand. Guster’s screwed but very much existing survival instincts were his biggest allies in keeping Shawn alive, honestly.
He took a deep breath and opened the door. He had some pent-up frustration and a very guilty man he could yell at and send to prison to make him feel better.
Carlton left the station as late as possible. He didn’t expect to run into Shawn, not at this hour, but he didn’t like going home knowing the house would be empty and stay that way as long as he was there.
He parked the car out front, a clear warning sign. If Shawn thought about sneaking in, he’d have to do that knowing Carlton was home. Carlton really didn’t want to deal with that right now, he had to go to a trial tomorrow early morning, and the two of them would either argue some more or just ignore each other. There would be no serious talking it over, not yet, and just thinking about anything else would give him a headache.
Even make up sex was out of the question. They never did that when they were seriously at odds with each other like this, it was only after they actually solved whatever was between them at the time. Carlton didn’t like thinking about how that would go, Shawn still angry and mouthing off and then leaving like they hadn’t shared a bed for a decade. It was too impersonal, too hurtful to actually consider it. Even Shawn, who liked solving his problems by seducing Carlton, hadn’t actually tried that move yet, and the Alpha expected that he liked the thought of it as much as he did.
So no, they were keeping their distance for now and it was for the best.
Carlton put his briefcase down, kicking off his shoes and throwing his jacket on the couch. Tad Cooper had been missing from the side table for days now. He loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top of his shirt, walking to the kitchen and pouring himself some scotch, tossing it back with one move when he noticed the used but unwashed mug in the sink, a proof that Shawn had been home today. He took the file of tomorrow’s case and sat down at his desk. He needed to go over the details before he sat on the stand, he couldn’t let the lawyers confuse him. Phelps had had it out for him since Shawn’d acquitted Sandra Panitch, and the defense attorney wouldn’t go easy on him either. Since this time Carlton was sure they caught the right guy, he couldn’t slip up on this.
He was nodding off for the third time when he gave up on it, deciding to postpone his shower until after his morning run and changed into his pajamas, getting ready for bed slowly. He’d already had a quick dinner on the way home and he couldn’t put off going to bed any longer, not when it was already late and he’d have to get up early. The bed was perfectly made like he’d left it this morning, and he slid under the covers on his side with a sigh. He’d done it enough times in the past thanks to Shawn’s chaotic sleep schedule that this one shouldn’t have made a difference but it did, even though he’d been sleeping alone for half a week already.
He put his phone on the nightstand as it was charging, checking that he would hear if it went off during the night. He did that for his job anyway, but worry made him want to be extra sure. He could never guess with Shawn and without knowing what his bonded was up to he couldn’t take risks.
He wasn’t above grabbing Shawn’s pillow and hugging it with an arm, though, nose pressed into it and he breathed in the faded scent of his mate’s expensive hair gel. It took a while until he fell asleep.
Carlton hadn’t expected to run into Guster the next day at the front desk, but it wasn’t like his presence was a novelty, so he was only a bit surprised when the Omega joined him on his way to his desk.
“I assume he’s still alive,” Carlton said. For some reason there were a row of chairs put out in the middle of the bullpen that was probably the result of one of Shawn’s crazy ideas. He didn’t expect to see his mate around, though.
“You would know if he wasn’t. Though to be fair we’re hanging around a daredevil and trying to keep him alive, and I haven’t calculated our chances yet,” Guster said.
Carlton didn’t tell him to call if anything happened. They both knew Guster would.
“What are you doing here if it doesn’t require police intervention?” he asked as they reached his desk and pretended to think. “Oh, don’t tell me, you wanted some information and asked O’Hara about it. Because apparently Spencer needs her help, but not mine.”
“Don’t involve me in this, Lassiter,” Guster sighed. “It’s enough that I’ve gotta deal with Shawn being miserable because he’s too proud to go home and talk to you. He’s also telling me he doesn’t have to apologize because he didn’t do anything wrong.”
Carlton smiled as his fists clenched, the mental picture of Shawn hanging off the ferris wheel still haunting him. Guster seemed to shrink back at his expression.
“Of course he didn’t,” Carlton said easily. “He can do whatever he wants. It’s not like his decisions have consequences.”
“Please don’t do that with your face again,” Guster muttered. “And you know how he hates being controlled.”
“Except I’m not controlling, am I?” Carlton raised his brows. He didn’t think it was unreasonable to want Shawn to at least consider his own safety. The risks he took weren’t even calculated ones, just impulsive and brash and he didn’t even have a weapon on him except for his mind and mouth to talk himself out of it. And Carlton was sure one day that wouldn’t be enough.
Guster frowned.
“No,” he admitted. “And Shawn knows that, too, I think. He’s just…” Guster, usually very articulate, just made a vague gesture, probably trying to encompass the last month of Shawn having to reevaluate most of his childhood. Carlton still didn’t know if his Omega had spoken to Henry since the class reunion at all.
“I know,” he said. “But I’m not going to apologize for worrying, Guster.”
Shawn had been in dangerous situations since he’d started Psych but he wasn’t even willing to admit he should’ve thought things over before acting and that was because of what was going on with his parents and Carlton knew it.
“I don’t expect you to,” Guster said. “But I’d like to point out that Shawn has lived with someone with a dangerous occupation for over a decade.”
Carlton felt his fingers twitch but didn’t let it anger him.
“Yeah, and I’m a cop if you’ve forgotten,” he said. “It comes with the job.”
“Shawn might not have a badge but he’s as much of a detective as you,” Guster pointed out.
“That doesn’t change the fact that he shouldn’t run after criminals without backup.” Carlton finally sat down and opened his file. “I have work to do, Guster. Tell Spencer that he can actually go home tomorrow because I will be on a stakeout for the next couple nights.”
He was angry with Shawn, yes, but he wasn’t about to keep him from their home, even if the banishment was self-imposed.
“You’re both ridiculous,” Guster told him plainly and marched away.
Carlton sighed and got to work.
“So, I was thinking we could go get dinner before getting to sit in a car for hours,” O’Hara suggested.
She’d been so adamantly supportive it was getting annoying. Every time they talked her gaze was on Carlton, sharp and careful all at once like he was a ticking bomb and Carlton hated it. He was fine! He didn’t need her pity or her relentlessly chipper attitude because that just made him mad and right now he couldn’t afford to insult O’Hara, too. And not just because they would sit in a car for hours.
“Sure,” he agreed easily because he was hungry and they would have to do with cheap coffee and snacks for the rest of the night.
“Great!” she grinned at him. “Let’s go!”
Carlton didn’t know what the rush was about since they still had two or so hours until they needed to be in position, but he bit back his argument. He was rather sick of the station at the moment and the idea of getting out of here sooner was too appealing to question her intentions.
He should’ve though, he really should’ve, because O’Hara was a cunning, nosy bastard when she wanted to be and Carlton trusted her enough that he hadn’t noticed what was happening until it was too late.
“Oh no,” Shawn stopped in his tracks the moment Carlton did as they noticed each other just outside the Chinese restaurant O’Hara had suggested. “Gus! You traitor!”
“It wasn’t my idea!” Guster objected, stuffing his face with noodles.
Carlton gave O’Hara his best glare before he quickly focused back on Shawn because after almost a week it was hard not to look at him. He was in a purple plaid shirt and one of his usual jeans, his hair perfect and lips pressed together as he frowned heavily at Carlton, the corners of his eyes narrowed in displeasure and… was that nervousness in his scent?
“I don’t know what Gus told you, but it didn’t happen that way! It didn’t happen at all!” his mate said resolutely and Carlton saw his fingers tighten around his own take-out box.
“Shawn, I didn’t –” Guster tried.
“What didn’t happen?” O’Hara asked curiously but Carlton had already put it together.
“What did you do?” he asked, worry rising in him but seeing that Shawn seemed perfectly fine it quickly turned into anger.
“Nope. We’re not having this conversation,” Shawn decided rather fast. “We’re not having any conversation.”
“But –” O’Hara started.
“He almost fell off a roof!” Guster blurted out. “Technically he did fell off but I could pull him up. He saved someone’s life this time, though.”
“Gus!” Shawn whined.
“Lassie needs to know this, Shawn!” Guster argued.
“You what?” O’Hara gaped. “Are you alright?”
Carlton… didn’t want to deal with this. He wouldn’t. A fucking roof!
Yelling wouldn’t solve anything and at this point it wouldn’t even make him feel better. He was so damn tired of worrying. So no, he wouldn’t do it. He refused.
Carlton swallowed down the words trying to climb up his throat, biting his tongue to keep them in, looked at Shawn’s wide, apprehensive eyes, then turned on his heels and marched back to the car.
“Carlton!” Shawn shouted after him and the kind of desperate defeat in his tone made Carlton’s heart twist, but his mate didn’t follow. O’Hara did, her heels clicking behind Carlton in a hurry. The Blueberry was parked three places in front of theirs.
“I’m so sorry, Carlton!” she said as she joined him in the car. Carlton resolutely didn’t look at her as he started the ignition. “I didn’t know he almost fell off a building. I just wanted you two to talk to each other,” she said miserably.
Carlton threw a gum in his mouth instead of a verbal answer and pulled out of their parking spot.
“Vick ordered me to get you and Shawn to make up,” O’Hara admitted towards the end of their stakeout the next day.
Carlton lowered the camera to look at her.
“What?”
“Yeah,” she nodded. “You know, we’ve noticed that you’ve been on edge. And I get it. You’re worried. But you can be worried about Shawn while still talking to him. Gus told me he’s as unbearable as you are but in a different way. How do you want to work together when Psych’s hired for a case the next time?”
“Maybe I don’t want to work with him! Then I won’t have to watch him do these stunts!” Carlton told her. “I don’t believe this. That’s a total invasion of our privacy, not to mention unprofessional.” He looked out the window. He’d like to talk to the Chief about this, too, but he was admittedly more afraid of her than of O’Hara. “And so what? I sleep alone. So what if I was recording that new show with Simon Baker because I know he’d love it? So what if I seriously considered finding a way to bottle up his scent so I can carry it with me everywhere? I mean, that’s... It’s just... Oh, God. I miss him so much,” he leaned his head against the head rest.
O’Hara put a reassuring hand on his arm.
“I know he misses you just as much,” she said, eyes soft and earnest. “Just text him, Carlton.”
Carlton hesitated a moment longer before he pulled out his cell. They still had half an hour of their shift here, then they had to get back to the station and…
Fuck it, who cared?
He flipped open his phone and typed out a short message. ‘Miss you. Can we talk?’ O’Hara watched him with an encouraging smile so Carlton sent it.
The reply came almost immediately and the relief of reading those four words and a bunch of emoticons was making him feel like he could breathe for the first time in a week.
‘see you at home’
Carlton felt some trepidation as he stopped the car on the driveway, taking a deep breath as he got out. It was still dark. He left O’Hara at the station, her promise of taking care of everything making him less worried about ditching her. He hadn’t got a single glimpse of the Echo or Shawn’s motorcycle, but through the gaps in the curtain he could see that the light was on in the living room.
He walked in the front door, kicked off his shoes in the hall, and just the sight of Shawn’s sneakers was making something settle in him. He opened the door into the living room and wide eyes met his from where Shawn was standing stock still in the middle of the room, looking like he’d been pacing around.
He looked perfect if a little tired and Carlton wanted to ask what the hell he’d been doing in the past week that wasn’t jumping off buildings. He wanted to actually talk to Shawn, to hear his voice and see him move and… most importantly, Carlton just wanted to hold him; feel his warmth and touch his skin and breathe in his scent.
Shawn was hugging him before he could’ve opened his mouth.
Carlton let out a bone deep sigh and closed his eyes, pulling Shawn closer and burying his face in his neck, Shawn’s arms tight around his waist. It was so good to have him this close that Carlton didn’t plan on letting go of him until tomorrow morning at the earliest.
“You owe me two goodbye kisses,” he heard Shawn murmur against his shoulder.
“I know,” Carlton agreed. “I’m sorry I yelled. You scared me.”
“I was scared, too,” Shawn admitted. “The roof was not fun. Or the ferris wheel.” Carlton felt him take in a shuddering breath and pulled away enough that they could look at each other, noses almost brushing. “I just gave a pep talk to an old daredevil about spending time with people you love so I thought a little hypertonial that I wasn’t talking to you.”
Carlton already opened his mouth to correct him but then decided against it. They would still need to figure out a solution to… okay, not for keeping Shawn safe because at this point that seemed like an impossible endeavor, but for just letting Carlton know what was happening. He was pretty sure he wouldn’t be so furious about it if he knew what to expect.
“Breakfast?” he asked, lifting his hand to smooth his thumb over Shawn’s jawline, his stubble a familiar sensation against Carlton’s skin.
Shawn’s smile was blinding as he answered, “In a minute,” and then pulled Carlton in for a kiss.
Chapter 4: The Greatest Adventure in the History of Basic Cable
Chapter Text
2000
“I’m fine,” Carlton complained, sitting on the examination table. The doctor stitching the wound on his left side didn’t acknowledge him.
Fenich stood a couple steps away with his arms crossed over his chest and a heavy frown on his face.
“You got shot, kid, I wouldn’t call that fine,” he said.
“It’s just a graze,” Carlton objected but then hissed as the stitches were pulled tight.
“Sure it is,” Fenich nodded.
“I got the son of a bitch, didn’t I?” Carlton asked, trying to rein in his irritation.
“And then would’ve taken in and interrogated him, too, if Schwartz hadn’t caught the blood on your shirt,” the Captain said.
Yes, because Carlton was fine, thank you very much, but he didn’t think that argument would get him anywhere except behind the desk for an extra week because he was being difficult.
The doc was at least quick and precise, wrapping up the wound quickly.
“Keep the bandage on for at least a day,” he said after he was finished. “Then keep it clean, wash it twice a day and it would be good if you could bandage it yourself until we get out the suture. They may itch but don’t scratch them and you have to come back if you think they’re getting infected. If everything goes well, we’ll see in a week if they can be removed.”
“A week?” Carlton asked in outrage. It was three fucking stitches!
“Or two,” Dr. Carroll said with an impassive face, unmoved by the outburst.
Carlton’s mouth was already open to protest further, but then the door to the room banged against the wall and Shawn rushed in, feet slipping on the linoleum floor and almost landing on his face.
“Lassie!”
His voice had a panicked edge to it, and he was in front of Carlton and hugging him a moment later, almost toppling them over. Carlton used his right hand to hug him back, the sharp tang of Shawn’s fear in his scent softening him instantly.
“Hey, I’m okay, I’m okay,” he murmured into Shawn’s temple. “It’s fine, I’m fine.”
“Hell you are!” Shawn pulled back, eyes quickly taking Carlton in from head to toe. “The chick on the phone said you got shot! That’s not fine!”
Carlton cradled his face to catch his gaze, hazel eyes wide with worry.
“It just nicked me, Shawn, it’s nothing serious, alright?” he said and Shawn slowly relaxed.
“You’re not allowed to die on me, you get it?” his boyfriend asked, his fingers sliding over the bandage so lightly that Carlton couldn’t even feel it.
“None of us wants that,” Fenich spoke up and Shawn jumped like he’d been electrocuted.
Carlton, who’d also completely forgotten his commanding officer was in the room, cleared his throat. Carroll had already disappeared.
“Um, detective,” Shawn stammered. “I mean captain. Sir. Long time no see.”
Fenich’s lips twitched in well-contained amusement.
“Detective Lassiter here will be on desk duty for at least the next two weeks,” he said to Shawn. Carlton wanted to object but Shawn pressed his palm against his mouth without looking at him. “And as soon as he’s back on the field he’ll be assigned a partner to prevent such an injury happening again.”
“What?” Carlton pushed Shawn’s hand down. He hadn’t had a partner since Fenich’s promotion and he didn’t need one now.
His mentor apparently didn’t agree, giving Carlton his ‘don’t be an idiot’ glare.
“We both know this wouldn’t have happened if you had someone with you, Lassiter,” he said. “You were lucky this time, but I’m not letting you out alone again. Dobson will get his D.E.T. results in a week, but I doubt he didn’t pass. You two will do fine.”
Okay, that wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been. He could work with Dobson. And getting a junior detective was a huge responsibility and would look great on his way to the top.
“I can live with that,” Carlton nodded in agreement.
“Good to hear, but you don’t have a choice,” Fenich gave him a rue smile before he started walking towards the door. “See you at work in two days, don’t you dare come in before that.” He gave a nod from the threshold, “It was good to see you, Shawn,” then he was gone.
Shawn was quiet for a whole three seconds.
“Well, that was awkward,” he said, then his focus was back on Carlton and he lifted the bloody shirt the Alpha’d had to take off for the examination. “I don’t think this will come out.” Carlton took it from him because a bloody shirt was still better than no shirt. “I’m glad you made me your emergency contact. I would’ve gone mad not knowing what happened.”
Carlton looked up at him in surprise.
“You felt it?” he asked. Yes, true mates should have that connection without a mating bond, but usually it mostly became obvious in retrospect. Like ‘oh yeah, so that’s what it meant’.
“I didn’t exactly feel it,” Shawn shrugged with faux casualness. “I just knew that something was wrong.” He didn’t let Carlton mull that over, pulling him off the table. “Come on, Gus is in the parking lot. He’ll take us home.”
Present Day
Carlton hated surprises with a passion. Everyone knew that and accepted it both in his private life and at work (especially O’Hara since that horrendous birthday party). Shawn wasn’t an exception by any means. So why, why was he doing this to Carlton at a random Sunday evening?
Henry’s frown as he leaned against the kitchen counter with a beer when Carlton walked through his back door was already prominent and Carlton’s first thought was that Shawn must’ve done something already, but then he looked towards the living room and spotted the more likely source. His body went stiff in a moment.
“No,” he said. Henry’s eyebrows rose as he looked at him. “No, I refuse to deal with him. What is he doing here?” Carlton whispered furiously as he marched over to the dining table.
“Ah, so you’ve met him,” Henry deduced. Carlton heard Shawn’s delighted laughter from the other room.
“What does he want this time?” he demanded.
Henry looked at him for a moment.
“I knew I liked you for a reason,” he nodded to himself and grabbed another beer to hand it to Carlton.
“You do?” the detective asked because he’d never been sure about that.
“Lassie!” Shawn appeared in the door with a bright smile, earning Carlton’s attention immediately. “Uncle Jack is here!”
“I can see that,” Carlton shot a glare at the man standing behind Shawn. He hadn’t changed a bit since Carlton had last seen him three years ago.
“Tony!” he waved in greeting. God, Carlton hated him.
“It’s Carlton,” he corrected the Beta through gritted teeth.
“What’s a nickname between family members, right?” Jack said with a grin. “Still a cop?”
“Still using people to chase after tall tales?” Carlton shot back.
“Carly!” Shawn chided him with a small frown that made the Alpha’s mouth snap shut.
Shawn adored his uncle. As far as Carlton knew he’d wanted to be like Jack since he’d been little and if it hadn’t been for Henry holding Shawn back he would’ve turned out to be his uncle’s exact replica, not just a distorted mirror image. Carlton would hardly approve of his father-in-bond’s rearing methods but he was a little grateful for the results, if the other option was that. At least Shawn had a sometimes wild but existent moral compass.
“Ready to go home?” he asked Shawn instead. The reason he was here was because Shawn needed a ride, Guster apparently making himself scarce for the rest of the night.
“Yep,” Shawn nodded. “Oh, yeah, Uncle Jack, you need a place to crash? We have a super nice guest room now.”
Carlton was just about to say, “No way in hell,” but Jack was quicker.
“Nice of you, Shawnie, but I already have an invite to one of my friends,” he winked at Shawn, leaving no doubt of what kind of friend that was. “I’ll see you tomorrow, kid.”
“What’s tomorrow?” Carlton asked later, as they were on their way home. Henry had been suspiciously silent the whole time Carlton had been in the house.
“Gus and I will help find Uncle Jack Bouchard’s treasure,” Shawn said because of course they were. Carlton would bet the reason Jack had turned up at all was because he knew if anyone was capable of finding lost wealth, it would be Shawn. The man might be a selfish bastard but he wasn’t stupid. Carlton just hoped he wasn’t going to break Shawn’s heart along the way. “He has a secret map and everything. You wanna tag along?”
Any other day Carlton might’ve said yes because come on, lost treasure, and he could keep an eye on Shawn that way. With Shawn’s uncle in the picture, though…
“No, thanks,” he said. He was pretty sure he’d shoot Jack before they took two steps. And the existence of Bouchard’s treasure was doubtful at best. Jack had been searching for that the last time he’d been in town, too. “But –”
“I’ll call you if there’s anything going wrong, I promise,” Shawn said and when Carlton glanced at him he had a soft smile on his face.
“Thank you.”
Of course Shawn would call in those five minutes when Carlton was raiding a warehouse with O’Hara and five officers, hiding behind crates until they were sure they had reason to arrest the dealers.
Carlton almost had a heart attack when he’d seen the missed call half an hour later, but he had a text that said ‘dad solved it. safe h&ks’, that let him breathe again.
“Everything okay?” O’Hara asked as they watched the dealers being put in squad cars while CSU handled the scene.
“Apparently,” Carlton sighed, pocketing his phone.
“At least Shawn told you what he’d do today, right? And tried to call you when he needed,” she said with a smile. “That’s more than before.”
It did help, was the thing. Just knowing that he should expect something to go wrong or that Shawn could sooner or later end up in trouble that would require Carlton to pull out his gun and go to the rescue was a lot less stressful than just getting into the middle of it without prior notice. He still wasn’t sure what had happened that Shawn had actually dialed him, but at this point he was prepared for anything.
“We’ll have them at the station by this evening,” Carlton told O’Hara. Either because Shawn would need help or because all the Spencer men plus Guster would be arrested for something they shouldn’t have done. As far as Carlton’s expertise on treasure hunting went stepping on the toes of at least one government was a requirement.
“Carlton, I’m sure they’re not that dumb,” his partner frowned. “I say tomorrow noon at the latest, but not today.”
“You willing to bet, O’Hara?” Carlton looked at her, kind of impressed.
“Yep,” she gave him a small smirk. “Henry’s with them. I bet you twenty dollars that they can hold out for at least another twenty-four hours without getting in too much of a mess.”
“Alright,” Carlton shook hands with her. She didn’t know Shawn’s uncle, but if she was willing to risk it, Carlton wasn’t gonna warn her. “I say they’ll be at least in the Chief’s office if not in interrogation by eight this evening.”
Henry might be a factor in holding Shawn back but Carlton had more faith in Jack’s risktaking attitude and his readiness to throw others under the bus.
“You’re on.”
“Here,” O’Hara held out the twenty with a pout at exactly six thirty p.m. on the front steps of the station. “I can’t believe they couldn’t do it.”
Carlton pocketed the cash. He’d invite her for a drink on it later.
“I hope you didn’t have any plans for tonight,” he told her as they watched the Chief hurry down the steps, the rest of the department looking on curiously.
“Nothing beside wanting to call my parents and look through the program for the district conference next month,” she sighed. “Who are these guys? And where’s Gus’ shoe?”
She gestured to the three men herding Shawn, Guster and Henry, surprisingly not in cuffs, out of a helicopter. They’d landed with it right in front of the station and Carlton was surprised they hadn’t actually damaged anything while landing.
“You know as much as I do,” Carlton said. He wasn’t the least bit surprised by the absence of Jack Spencer. Probably had run the moment he’d seen these guys. Carlton would happily shoot him if it turned out that he’d purposefully endangered Shawn.
Vick waved him and O’Hara over, then continued conversing with the leader of the strangers who were speaking an accented English. Spanish, but Carlton didn’t have the ear to place it more than that, but seeing as the supposed treasure was supposed to be from Spain he went with that for now.
“Put these three in an interrogation room,” the Chief ordered them without looking, reading through something the unknown guy had handed her.
“Hey, Lassie! Jules!” Shawn waved merrily. “Isn’t this the coolest entrance you’ve ever seen?”
“It would be cooler if you weren’t here because you were caught doing something you shouldn’t have,” Carlton answered.
“You don’t know if that’s the case,” Shawn argued as they started up the stairs.
“It is the case!” Henry said harshly but then refused to say anything else.
“Someone go back and get my Puma,” Guster complained.
“So, Jules, how’s your new bedframe?” Shawn asked her conversationally. “Lassie told me it took the two of you over an hour to put it together.”
“It’s great, Shawn, thanks for asking,” O’Hara smiled a little as they were walking straight to the stairs.
The reason Carlton had missed going to the movies on Sunday in the first place had been because he’d helped O’Hara with her new bedframe and mattress. It was from the IKEA in Burbank, and most of Carlton’s weekend had been spent on helping O’Hara purchase them and then putting the frame together. He owed her plenty of favors and he actually liked spending time with her, so it hadn’t been a hardship, and fortunately they’d tackled the instructions rather easily, but after the frame had been standing with the mattress fitting on it perfectly, he’d spent the rest of the afternoon at O’Hara’s, too, with a beer in hand and chatting.
“I would love to try that mattress!” Guster exclaimed, then seemed to realize how that sounded and almost fell down the stairs in his haste to correct it. “I-I just mean you told me it has a great lumbar support and after the food vendor thing Shawn dragged me into last week my back’s been a bit sensitive –”
“I already apologized, Gus!” Shawn groaned, “How should’ve I known the woman was a regional kickbox champion?”
“All of you, inside,” Carlton herded them to Interrogation Room A. “We’ll get you an extra chair,” he added before he closed the door.
O’Hara sighed next to him.
“It was a cool entrance, wasn’t it?” she said quietly.
Carlton had to agree.
“Yeah. Just don’t tell them that.”
“Of course not.”
It took almost two hours to actually start asking questions. And an hour after that they still only knew that Jack had showed up last night out of the blue and that Shawn had convinced the man to impersonate Henry for a class. Despite being there last night Carlton hadn’t really been caught up to the happenings as it turned out.
Then Shawn decided to change the narrative.
“Get matching fedoras?” Guster interrupted him. “You’re the one who wanted the fedoras, not me. Stop changing the story.”
“My mistake,” Shawn agreed. “He wanted the yellow gauchos. I said no to that.”
“Would you please put me in a separate room from these idiots? I will tell you everything,” Henry snapped. He’d lasted longer than Carlton had assumed he would.
“Just continue,” O’Hara told them. It was good she was there and pressing on because Carlton was getting tired of this and they were still talking about last night.
“Jack had told us to meet him at the front steps of the Santa Barbara Mission, because that was the first step on the map,” Shawn complied. “Gus and I could barely contain our excitement.” He paused for a moment as he thought it over. “I contained mine a little better. Uncle Jack was already waiting for us.”
He spun the story as if he already had it composed in his head, which was probably what was actually going on. Carlton exchanged the phrase ‘had a vision’ to ‘noticed’ in his head as Shawn talked about how Jack had omitted that part of the treasure map had been missing and how Shawn had figured out what should’ve been on it anyway. Which was a surprise on its own, if Carlton was honest.
“Wait. The map was actually real?” he asked. He’d never thought Jack would turn up with a solid clue instead of taking the Psych duo on a wild goose chase.
“Oh, yeah. We couldn’t believe it,” Guster nodded.
“The lighthouse was the first clue,” O’Hara summarized. “What happened from there?”
“We didn’t make it to the second clue,” Shawn said.
“Why not?” Carlton asked, suspicion rearing its head in him at that. There was a reason Shawn had tried to reach him, after all.
Henry gestured with his hand as if he wanted Shawn to stay quiet but Guster was the one who answered.
“Because we weren’t the only ones who found the lighthouse.”
“Please tell me they didn’t have guns,” Carlton sighed. There was silence as his answer as Shawn pursed his lips. Carlton rubbed his face tiredly. “I guess that was the reason you called.”
“I was a bit busy running and hiding,” the fake-psychic admitted. “I called you while we were trying to stay out of sight in a cabin but then they found us and took our phones.”
“Do you know who they were and why they were chasing you?” O’Hara asked.
The question started another half an hour of storytelling about how exactly the three of them had hid in a cabin nearby and then had been caught anyway. Carlton was both intrigued and kinda giving up at this point.
“Okay, let’s call the Chief. She needs to hear this,” he stood up.
By now the interrogation had been going on for hours and they still hadn’t gotten anywhere. The guys with the guns at least were something they could work on and Carlton would ensure they were behind bars as soon as possible.
Shawn was getting tired. Carlton could tell because he was getting distracted more often and he wouldn’t usually get this sidetracked with Vick present.
O’Hara was getting tired, too, because she actually snapped.
“Shawn!” she slammed her hand down on the table, making the Spencers and Guster lean back in their seats. “Don’t forget that you are in a lot of trouble here. And not everyone cares to see you get out of it. Now, it’s two thirty in the morning, we’ve been here for hours, enough with the jokes, stop delaying, and tell us what we want to hear!”
Where had this been when Carlton had asked her to be hard on the suspects? O’Hara had played it too nice then but apparently all she needed was an annoying person on the other side of the table and the lack of caffeine. He felt vindicated in any case – he knew she had it in her.
Shawn actually gaped at her for a couple seconds and Guster had his eyebrows on his forehead before the Omegas shared a look of awe.
“Oh my God,” Shawn said quietly.
“That was so hot,” Guster added and Carlton wasn’t dealing with this. His patience was also rather thin by now.
“Spencer, tell the Chief what you told us about the guys who chased you away from the lighthouse with the guns.”
So Guster and Shawn told them about getting captured and the conversation that followed which…
“And then Mark noticed that there was a tear in the map and he wasn’t happy.”
“Hold it. So, you just gave them the map and told them everything?” Carlton asked. By now he’d already got rid of his jacket and the guys had their late dinner in front of them because as usual Shawn liked his own voice too much to keep it short and concise.
“No, not everything,” Shawn shook his head but Guster elbowed him and that made him reconsider. “Okay, everything.”
Carlton could’ve kissed him. This was the kind of survival instincts he’d wanted his bonded to have for the last two years.
“So, they found the treasure?” he asked.
Shawn scoffed and looked at Carlton smugly which was only a little bit attractive.
“Not exactly.” Carlton arched an eyebrow. “Okay, I may have psychically led them down the wrong path. The spirit world is just one of life’s little mysteries, like why the Oxygen Network airs Goodfellas, or why fools fall in love.”
Then the Chief walked in with a boot for Guster and a burglary report filled by Henry yesterday.
“I was the one who picked them up,” he said like that was an explanation for the burglary.
“Wait, wait, wait, wait,” Carlton lifted his hand. He was getting restless at this point, rolling up his sleeves and changing where to stand in the room every couple of minutes. “How did your dad know where to find you if that Mark guy took all your cell phones?”
“That is a very good question,” Shawn said but then kept mum, seeming to be lost in thought for a moment.
“Spencer, are you gonna answer my question or not? How did your dad know where to find you?”
“Sorry, I thought you were kidding,” Shawn said. “You already know, Lassie, that with some people, I can communicate through psychic wavelengths. My father is one of them. Val Kilmer is another.”
“And Carlton’s not?” O’Hara asked which was fair. Shawn had used him as a tool for his visions before, along with Guster.
“Our mental connection can be a bit clogged sometimes, mostly because he refuses to admit it exists,” Shawn told her calmly.
“Because it doesn’t,” Carlton pointed out.
“See?” Shawn gestured at him.
Okay, Carlton got the message. He would ask about those ‘wavelengths’ the next time they were alone, though.
Something was wrong with the Spanish guy. Carlton was sure because, as Candelaria was telling the Chief, Shawn had refused to talk to him unless they were at the station. Vick didn’t seem to like him either.
“Okay, look, I said we would cooperate with you, but they are employees of the SBPD, and they’re not going anywhere without my detectives,” she said.
“Chief, we have been through this, no?” he pulled out the damn letter he’d been waving around all night. “This is from your Treasury Department, giving me full power to call the shots. Now, I thank you for your help, but it will no longer be needed. Vamos.”
Guster followed and Shawn didn’t object, either, but when he stepped up to Carlton to give him a quick kiss, the Alpha felt something being slipped into his palm.
“Bye, Lassie,” Shawn grinned brightly and Carlton bit back his questions, watching carefully as his mate disappeared down the corridor before he looked at his hand and opened the folded paper.
‘Andres is not real. Follow us. You look delicious’ was written on it with red ink. Carlton had no idea when Shawn had even found the time to write it.
He needed to decide what to do with this. The safest course of action would be to go after the supposed agents and arrest them. Shawn could tell them what was going on and this whole thing would be over in an hour and they could go home and sleep. If Candelaria and his men weren’t actual agents, it would be confirmed by a phone call or two.
Except if Shawn had wanted that, he’d have already told them this instead of leaving a note. He was asking Carlton to trust his judgment and let him go with most likely dangerous people who had the resources to forge government paperwork.
Carlton stepped out of the room to watch the group go up the stairs, Shawn and Guster in the middle of the line and the visual made Carlton think about hostages. If he did something, he should do it now.
He was about to move but then Shawn looked back, meeting Carlton’s eyes steadily. Carlton let them go.
“What is that?” O’Hara asked, looking at the paper and he handed it over without a word, feeling like he was going to be sick. He’d willingly let Shawn go with criminals. If something happened to him… He heard O’Hara’s breath catch and he looked down at her. At least she seemed more surprised than anything, and she glanced up at Carlton with determination.
“So we just follow them?” she asked.
Carlton took a deep breath, fingers curling around his gun in its holster in that anxious tic he’d never been able to shake.
“Yeah.”
He was going to kill Jack Spencer the next time he saw him.
Shawn showed up at the station around noon with a take-out box and a shake. Carlton looked up from the paperwork the Chief wanted as soon as possible because she didn’t like when people deceived her. Carlton had already sent O’Hara home – he wouldn’t be able to sleep until he’d had the time to check on Shawn anyway, and his Omega had practically run off with Guster as soon as possible after a very well-timed rescue from two different, armed groups.
“I brought you lunch,” Shawn put down his delivery on Carlton’s desk.
“Thanks,” Carlton looked up at him, assessing as he twirled a pen. Shawn looked a little down which was understandable when your admired uncle betrayed you and left you to the wolves. It was a bit like the second The Librarian movie. Which made Carlton Gabrielle Anwar.
“I’m fine, Carlton,” Shawn rolled his eyes at him, but the toe of his shoe scuffed on the linoleum. “It sucks, but I’ll get over it.”
Like he’d had to get over his mother leaving again. The only family member who was always there seemed to be Henry.
Carlton cast a glance around the station. Most people were on lunch break but he didn’t want to talk about this in the open. Shawn hated being seen as vulnerable.
“Come on,” he stood up, took a sip from his shake and navigated the two of them to the empty records room. Shawn went along with a soft, amused huff of a laugh, but his scent had a somber tinge to it.
“You’re really not my therapist, Lassie,” he said. “You don’t have to always check in just because I’m a bit disappointed.”
Carlton closed the door on them but didn’t lock it. There was only a slim chance anyone would disturb them.
“That’s not how this works and you know it,” he replied, turning to Shawn and he cradled his face in his palms, fingers curling around the back of his Omega’s neck to ensure they were looking at each other. Shawn’s hands rested on his waist, warm and familiar and he was staring at Carlton in slight exasperation. His stubble was stronger than usual, bristling under Carlton’s skin. “Thank you for calling me. I’m sorry I couldn’t answer.”
“I know you can’t always do that,” Shawn shrugged but he seemed pleased, a small smile ticking up his lips. “Thanks for listening to me. It probably wasn’t easy. But hey, we’re both working on this!”
“Maybe we’ll get somewhere by the time I’m retiring,” Carlton sighed as he let his hands leave the Omega’s face and slid down to his forearms. Shawn snickered, sneaking in a quick kiss. His scent was more balanced now, the unmistakable happiness in it making Carlton relax. “I want to punch your uncle the next time I see him.”
Shawn opened his mouth, probably to protest, but then thought it over.
“Yeah, okay, you can punch him.”
“Great.”
Chapter 5: Disco Didn’t Die, It Was Murdered
Chapter Text
2000
“Oh my God, you were in rut!” Shawn exclaimed way louder than necessarily in a restaurant during lunch time.
Carlton choked on his pancakes and his face warmed in embarrassment as the occupants of the nearest tables turned towards them.
“Sit back down,” he reached over the table and pulled Shawn down onto his chair. “What the hell, Shawn?”
“Yeah, that’s what I’m asking, too!” his boyfriend said, finally in a normal voice but he still seemed… not angry, but seriously annoyed. “What the hell? You were in rut and forgot to tell me?”
“I didn’t forget anything,” Carlton said calmly. “Why do you even think I’ve had my cycle in the first place?”
Shawn seemed to calm down a bit.
“It’s obvious in hindsight,” he leaned back and crossed his arms petulantly like he was disappointed he hadn’t figured it out sooner. “I found you even hotter than usual which was ridiculous and also explains the guy at the grocery store coming on to you so strong and why I wanted to push a whole pineapple down his throat.” That was surprisingly violent from Shawn but Carlton didn’t comment, feeling a bit of self-satisfaction at the information. “And then you used your extra sexiness to do dirty and amazing things in bed. You played me!”
Carlton rolled his eyes as he finished off his coffee.
“I remember me asking you about all of those things beforehand,” he said and pretended to think. “What was the answer to every single one? ‘Oh, yes, Lassie, please’?”
“I didn’t say I was mad about it,” Shawn muttered then leaned forward. “That’s the other thing though. How were you so calm? For three days straight you never lost it for even a moment.”
“I’m always like that,” Carlton told him.
“See, I don’t have many experiences with Alphas in rut except for Lizzy Watkins losing control in junior year when two teachers had to hold her down, and my dad being more condescending than usual for a week but I knew in both cases what was going on. How could I not clock you when I’m actually dating you?”
“I’m not an adolescent, Spencer,” Carlton sighed, not mentioning that he’d been plenty condescending at work. “I handled it before you, I can do it with you. As if I would go near you if I didn’t think I could keep my head on straight.”
He’d been able to handle it with Shawn on the other side (or out) of the country for two years, even if it had felt like hell, feeling his control slipping for a couple seconds before he’d been able to rein his rage in even more tightly. Shawn’s presence had been a relief for the last two times, and he was actually proud that Shawn hadn’t figured him out last year at all.
Shawn didn’t speak up until he finished off his own lunch – almost three whole minutes.
“I disagree,” he said plainly. “I’m not doubting you, Carly, I know you wouldn’t ever hurt me,” he added quickly when he saw Carlton’s stormy expression. “No, what I meant is that you should’ve told me anyway. I’m pretty sure as your boyfriend this is something I should know about. I could’ve helped you and maybe then you wouldn’t have to hold back, actually enjoy yourself instead of keeping yourself in check so much. I don’t think that’s healthy.”
“Yeah, I’m not doing that,” the detective said easily. “I’ve never lost control and I won’t start now.”
Because he didn’t know what that would mean and he wasn’t risking Shawn with this. Alphas had a tendency to be more aggressive and demanding than usual (Shawn’s mention of his classmate was a great example) and Carlton didn’t trust himself enough to just let go and gave into his instincts, which had whispered in his ear about Shawn and need and now for the better part of last week. His control was what had let him work, what had kept his gun in its holster when he’d had that argument with the defense attorney three days ago. He didn’t know what would happen if he gave that up and he wasn’t willing to find out, especially not with Shawn nearby. Maybe if Shawn hadn’t left back then, if Carlton hadn’t had to live without his proximity for years. But as it was, he needed that control.
“I think you forget something. We’d already agreed on it during this conversation,” his Omega put his hand over Carlton’s fist resting on top of the table and pried his fingers loose. “There’s no way you would hurt me.”
“Shawn.”
“I refuse to believe there’s the slightest possibility of it,” Shawn pressed on. “I trust that as soon as I say the word you’d stop.” He sighed when he saw the skeptical expression on Carlton’s face. “Look, you don’t have to give up all the control if that freaks you out. Just… maybe you could give me some of it. Let me drive the Cadillac of our sexcapades a little.”
“That’s a stupid name and you drive plenty,” Carlton pointed out.
“Not in the past week,” Shawn said with a challenging raise of his eyebrows. “Which, again, was great, but I think it would be less straining for you if you’d trust me with it. Not all of it, just a small part that you still feel comfortable with. You do trust me, right?”
And he was giving Carlton that damn genuine sweet smile.
“Yeah, I do,” he sighed.
“Good to know,” Shawn’s smile widened and he lifted their joined hands to press a kiss on Carlton’s knuckles. “You still have a year to get used to the idea, though, so don’t start worrying now.”
Present Day
Shawn was acting weird again. Which wasn’t anything new but Carlton liked to know the reason for it. It couldn’t be because of the case for the simple reason that Carlton was sure Shawn had no idea what it was about. He wouldn’t smile like this otherwise. The blonde woman who’d accompanied him and Guster was somehow involved, too, but judging by her notepad and camera and that Shawn was present Carlton guessed reporter – who was fortunately left outside of the Chief’s office.
“Lassie, you’re here! I need you… here.” Shawn took his arms and moved him aside a step, then pulled up the blinds on the window. “Thank you, sweetheart.” The supposed reporter on the other side of the glass waved as Shawn walked over to Vick. “Chief, what’s up?”
Guster not at all subtly took a couple steps back to get out of the camera’s focus.
“Mr. Spencer, as you may be aware, a Cal…” Vick stopped to look at the leg Shawn put up on the chair as he posed. “California prisoner’s advocacy... Are you okay?” she put her hands on her hips.
“Right as rain,” Shawn said, then gave the smile he thought was his most charming one (but was actually pretty low on the list in Carlton’s opinion simply because of its insincerity) to the camera.
He was also obviously getting on the Chief’s nerves but was probably too busy thinking about the front page to realize that. Carlton sighed to himself and tried to think about how he’d woken up to Shawn snuggled up to him this morning, soft and safe. It made the reasons why he loved the idiot make more sense than what he was doing now.
“Long story short, a handful of convictions, some of them decades old, have been recently called into question,” Vick said.
O’Hara handed her the file containing the name that had the best chance of actually wiping the smile off Shawn’s face.
“Unfortunately, the biggest one was a Santa Barbara PD conviction.”
When after another minute of ridiculousness Shawn actually looked into the file his reaction was an immediate, “Oh no.”
Carlton had heard of Henry Spencer’s biggest case, almost as soon as he'd started on the station. Preventing some anti-governmental radical scum from blowing up the police station wasn’t something people just forgot about. Doing something like that had been one of Carlton’s dreams since he’d been seven and decided he’d wanted to be a cop.
Shawn didn’t seem as excited to be involved in the case now, most likely because Henry would surely try to get involved somehow. Despite how Vick tried to keep this whole thing under wraps, Carlton was sure that Henry already knew about the reopening of the case.
Fortunately, Carlton had much more relevant things to do and wouldn’t be working on this one unless something new actually showed up; he would only be subjected to Shawn’s complains.
At least he hoped that would be the case. Prior experience would suggest otherwise, but Carlton would refuse to think about it like that.
A diamond smuggling ring or fraudulent permits. Yeah, it wasn’t a hard question which one Carlton would like to work on more.
“I am the head detective,” he turned to O’Hara as soon as Vick disappeared.
“Who owes me,” O’Hara told him. “I covered your butt on last month’s paperwork so you could make up with Shawn.”
She had him. Damn it.
“Damn it,” he said and glanced around, looking for a way out. Wait just a moment… “Follow my lead,” he said and then shouted over the bullpen. “McNab! Get over here!” To McNab’s credit, he immediately hurried over and stopped in front of them eagerly. “I don’t know, O’Hara. I don’t think he’s ready.”
O’Hara paused only for a moment before she pursed her lips thoughtfully.
“Yeah, I... I don’t think he is either.”
McNab, bless him, took the bait.
“No. I’m ready.”
Carlton pretended to give in.
“Alright.” He looked at O’Hara who gave a quick nod. “McNab, how would you like to do some real police work?” Because he knew McNab had been sent out on patrol the last week and he must itch for something less mind-numbing.
“I’d love to,” came the predictable answer accompanied by wide eyes.
He pawned the permits file off to McNab and watched him practically run to start on it. O’Hara looked as satisfied at this as Carlton felt.
“So. The diamond smuggling ring?” she asked, excitement seeping into her voice.
“The diamond smuggling ring,” Carlton nodded and snatched the file from her hand, marching towards his desk. O’Hara followed quickly.
“Let me see,” she said as she put the chair next to Carlton’s desk closer and sat down by his side as he booted up his computer. She leaned in to see the papers as Carlton opened the file and she was close enough that he could smell her peaches and new book scent full of enthusiasm.
Shawn, Lulu and maybe his mother were the only ones he could get feelings off by smell from a relative distance, but working with O’Hara for this long had ensured a proximity to be familiar with hers.
“Wanna bet that it comes in by boat?” he asked.
“Of course it does,” she agreed. “You think we should go stake out the shipyard?”
“It couldn’t hurt.”
It hurt. God, it hurt so much.
O’Hara shot off another bullet and it gave off a deafening sound in the metal container and the sound made the marmoset dead set on clawing out Carlton’s eyes scratch sharply into his nose.
“Fuck!” he shouted as he took a step back, out of reach from the thing climbed high on the bars, and felt his jacket tear thanks to the goddamn claws. “Out!”
He almost tripped over one of the dozens of little wooden boxes that had (apparently unsuccessfully) contained the little demons.
“I’m trying!” O’Hara yelled back, then gave a short, high-pitched shriek.
He reached out to where he remembered his partner to be and grabbed onto the back of her blouse and twirled her around towards the flashlights, covering her back as they took those miles-looking six feet outside. He saw O’Hara shake off another vicious-looking lower primate from her arm and Carlton felt another one successfully swipe at his ankle, then they were out and the uniforms were closing the container doors behind them.
Carlton took a big gulp of the precious, salty night air and felt like everything hurt. His ears were ringing from the shot.
There was a quiet snicker coming from their right and before Carlton could even figure out who it was, O’Hara was trying to throw herself at one of the animal smugglers already in handcuffs, ready to play enraged marmoset herself and tear the bastard to shreds, and only Carlton’s quick reflexes got in her way as he grabbed her waist and held her back – the movement made something in his shoulder burn and O’Hara gave a low grunt of pain.
Carlton felt his phone vibrate in his pocket and he pulled it out with a curse, checked that it was Shawn and flipped it open. The call wasn’t a surprise.
“I’m fine,” he said through gritted teeth, feeling anything but, furious and in pain, but at least alive. He heard Shawn’s sigh of relief on the other end.
“You fell into a bunch of needles or what?” his Omega asked, worry still in his voice.
“Felt like it,” Carlton muttered. “I’ll tell you later.”
“Okay,” Shawn agreed, a touch of admonishment in his tone now as he said, “Be careful, Lassie-face.”
Carlton hung up and got back to work.
Animal control and an expert from the zoo was called to the scene as the smugglers were taken into custody (they looked less smug now, the fuckers), and Carlton was pressing a tissue to his nose to stop the bleeding there. O’Hara looked ridiculous in his unsalvageable jacket ordering people around, but her red blouse was in shreds and she’d looked grateful when Carlton had handed it to her.
This was… not exactly a setback, because they had made an arrest, but the diamond was still nowhere to be seen and they sure as hell won’t find it tonight.
The young woman from animal control gave them a sympathetic hum as she suited up in protective gear, ready to walk into that hellhole of a container.
“Those’re gonna need rabies shots.”
“What the actual fuck?” Shawn asked with a full mouth as he took Carlton in, a sandwich on a plate in his lap. The plate was probably only there because he’d known Carlton had a less than stellar day and would have his head if he saw crumbs all over the couch.
“Marmosets,” Carlton told him flatly.
“Marmosets?” his mate repeated incredulously as he put his sandwich down and stood up. He was already in his sleepclothes, a t-shirt and boxer briefs and Carlton was envious. “Aren’t those the little cute ones that look like Christopher Lloyd?”
“They’re not cute,” the Alpha muttered.
“I think I get that now,” Shawn cradled his face very carefully, and hissed at seeing the damage. “Come on, you’ll take a shower, and then we’ll disinfect these.”
Carlton knew that would be the logical thing to do, but he was so fucking tired.
“I just wanna go to sleep,” he admitted.
“No can do, Lassie-kins,” Shawn gave a brief smile. He took Carlton’s scratched-up hand and lightly pressed his lips to his knuckles. “You’ll feel better, I promise.”
Carlton gave in to the earnest hazel eyes and shuffled to the bathroom. The suit pants and his shirt were a lost cause, even his tie bore the marks of the little monsters.
The hot water stung like hell but when he got out Carlton did feel more human. Pulling on his robe still hurt enough that he cursed the smugglers and mother nature right up until he left the bathroom.
Shawn was waiting for him by the dining table with their open first-aid kit and another sandwich.
“Not until I cleaned every scratch,” he said when he noticed Carlton’s longing glance towards the food.
Shawn tried to be careful but the rubbing alcohol stung worse than the water had. It was a slow and painful process, the only solace in it Shawn’s calm scent and his gentle fingers on Carlton’s skin.
“Tell me about your day,” Carlton asked because Shawn’s silent focus was unnerving.
“It went great. I talked to a man named Pookie. Oh, and I bought Gus a car. Well, Gus and Dad paid for it because I needed those fifteen dollars for lunch, but I did the buying part.”
His fake-psychic of a bonded prattled on and his voice washed over Carlton, and he didn’t even have the energy to question why Henry had been there in the first place despite Vick’s exact orders.
Carlton loved the sea. He’d grown up and lived in a coastal town. He knew how to navigate smaller ships, read nautical charts and how long it took the Santa Barbara Channel to decompose a body. He still spent a morning every month going fishing with Henry. He’d never been seasick.
Until the Coast Guard shut him in a small windowless cabin chasing pirates at maximum speed, that is.
“I’m really terribly sorry, O’Hara,” Carlton said, still feeling mortified.
“I know, Carlton,” his partner said patiently over the rushing water. “I’m not taking it personally.”
Carlton sighed, standing guard next to the curtained shower stall in the ship’s small bathroom where O’Hara was washing her hair. His only saving grace was the way the coast guard who’d checked on them hadn’t even blinked and had offered them to use the bathroom, though since they were still out of the SBPD’s jurisdiction Carlton had been locked in the room, too. At least this wasn’t so bad on his stomach.
O’Hara finally shut off the water after what had to be at least three wash. Carlton, resolutely looking at the wall, held out a towel. O’Hara reached out and took it. Carlton had a feeling this would’ve gone a lot more awkwardly if O’Hara wasn’t a cop and if Carlton weren’t mated.
His phone went off and Carlton was surprised there were even bars out here. They might be getting closer to the coast.
“McNab?” he picked up. O’Hara made a frustrated noise behind the shower curtain.
“Sir, there was a body found at one of the SBU labs,” McNab reported. “One of the professors.”
Shawn had called about the Eugene Franks case and had asked for two names, an older couple now living in a nice neighborhood in town who had probably been part of the same military group as Franks – who’d apparently had partners this whole time and Henry Spencer hadn’t known about it. Carlton could imagine the drama Shawn had to deal with right now thanks to that revelation. The only connection Carlton and O’Hara had been able to find in the five minutes they’d had before they’d been on their way to the harbor was a chemistry professor Franks and the Fords all took classes with at the university.
“We’ll be there as soon as we can,” Carlton told him. It hopefully wouldn’t take more than an hour. “Don’t let CSU in until we get there but the ME should take a look. Don’t let them move the body, though.”
“Yes, sir, got it!” McNab said jovially.
Carlton hung up.
“Professor Colbert’s dead,” he told O’Hara.
“I hope at least it’s not happened on a boat,” his partner grumbled. “Can you hand in my clothes, please?”
Carlton took the pile O’Hara had given him fifteen minutes ago from the stall before she’d started the water, and gave it back as it was, the suit pants and jacket fortunately hiding everything else.
“University,” he said.
“Perfect. You can’t even see the water from there. You think there’s a hairdryer around here somewhere?”
“We can stop by your apartment,” Carlton offered. That was the least he could do, honestly. He’d buy her coffee for the next month, too. “You need to change and the body isn’t going anywhere.”
“Not like the pirates,” O’Hara agreed.
That Shawn was the one who found the dead chemistry professor was the least exciting thing that had happened to Carlton today. Guster was there, too, spewing off facts only he cared about, and if Carlton was a betting man he would put good money on Henry being somewhere nearby, too, despite what the Chief had asked of Shawn.
What he didn’t expect was the outfit.
“What the hell are you wearing?” Carlton asked, a bit confused, a little turned on, mostly exasperated.
Shawn, in a very Henry-style purple shirt and sunglasses looked like he just stepped out of Saturday Night Fever and immediately put his hands to his temples.
“Ooh! I’m gettin’ some serious jive, and it is fly!”
The back-and-forth between the Omegas was as ridiculous as usual, just 70s edition. After the day Carlton’d had he didn’t have the energy to put a stop to it. Shawn would get to the point soon anyway. Instead Carlton focused on the way the jeans made his mate’s hips look.
Then Shawn blurted out there was another bomb.
“That…That’s all I got. The jive’s over. We should go before people explode,” he pointed haltingly at the door and that made Carlton pull himself together enough to move.
McNab was calling for reinforcements before Carlton could order him.
“McNab, you stay here and handle the scene,” he told the guy instead.
“It’s in your hands now,” O’Hara nodded. “We trust you to do it right.”
“We even trust you to do the paperwork for it,” Carlton added.
McNab’s face lit up by the assignment. Poor susceptible soul.
“Understood,” he nodded and turned back around.
Carlton caught Shawn’s gaze and his mate arched an eyebrow over his sunglasses like he had a leg to stand on in judging someone for using people. Carlton put on his aviators and followed his partner.
There was a bomb. And since Shawn thought the Fords were the ones who’d made it, the best way to make them admit to it was to activate said bomb.
“Spencer, what did you just do?” Carlton asked as he looked down at the clock ticking back from one minute.
“In exactly one minute, we will all be blown to smithereens or the people responsible for making that bomb will deactivate it,” Shawn announced to everyone at the scene.
Carlton was going to kill him. At least if the bomb wouldn’t.
“Don’t look at me. He’s crazy,” Derek Fords told them.
Eugene was just as much help.
“Yeah, I don’t know how to do it either,” he shrugged between the two officers holding him.
Carlton had had a long day and an awful week. His wounds still hurt and he’d already thrown up today, he was tired and hungry and he didn’t want to blow up.
“I demand that someone disarm this bomb right now!”
Guster booked it and following his example uniforms started clearing out the area. And Shawn stood in the middle of it, calm like they weren’t about to die.
In the end, with four seconds to spare, Derek Fords broke. It was really fortunate since it turned out Shawn actually had no idea how to disarm the thing.
Carlton decided to just walk away, refusing to deal with his mate right now.
“That’s how he’s more careful now?” O’Hara asked as they were on their way back to the station, leaving the bomb squad with handling the rest. They had wannabe terrorists to interrogate.
Carlton’s hands flexed on the steering wheel.
“He’s supposed to be,” he muttered. “At least this time he did it while we were there.”
Okay, that didn’t really sound much better.
“Carlton, I had an awful day,” O’Hara said plainly. “If Shawn does something like this again, I’m going to smack him.”
“That sounds fair.”
Shawn was confused. Carlton knew because he’d been frowning for a whole hour now, since Carlton had come home from work and hadn’t started yelling. All he’d said was, “The Chief wants you and Guster in first thing tomorrow for your reports.”
It was kind of funny watching Shawn trying to figure out why Carlton wasn’t angry. He’d been walking on eggshells all through dinner and when Carlton asked him if he’d want to choose the movie. Even as Carlton pulled him closer on the couch so they could cuddle like they often did, he felt the Omega’s shoulders stiffen before they relaxed under his touch.
“Carlton?” Shawn finally spoke up, halfway through Die Hard: With a Vengeance.
Carlton hummed, comfortable and half-asleep.
“Is this a new tactic to make me less reckless?” Shawn asked. “Because if it is, it’s kinda working. You’re starting to freak me out, honey.”
“You activated a bomb today, Shawn,” Carlton told him calmly, decidedly more awake. Shawn sat up properly and turned to look at him.
“Yes, and you didn’t even threaten to maim me because of it!” he gestured around with his hands. “What’s wrong with you?!”
The Alpha rolled his eyes.
“I worked through it,” he said.
“You what?” Shawn demanded in disbelief. “I don’t believe you.”
“Well, that’s hurtful,” Carlton raised his eyebrows. An agitated Shawn was rarely not fun and Carlton had so few opportunities to pull one over him.
Shawn made a frustrated sound in his throat and then to Carlton’s surprise he leaned in for a deep, hurried kiss. Carlton moaned lowly as he pulled his mate closer until Shawn was straddling his thigh.
Shawn broke away to give Carlton a narrow-eyed glare.
“I don’t know what you’re playing at, Carly, but I will find out,” he said as he worked on Carlton’s shirt.
Carlton didn’t bother to answer as he pulled Shawn back to him.
His revenge would be ready by tomorrow morning. Stealing Shawn’s interview by telling the reporter to come in to the station half an hour earlier so she would write down what Carlton and O’Hara told her would be enough that he could be satisfied. He doubted it would stop Shawn from doing the next stupid thing that came his way but he got his victories where he could.
Chapter 6: There Might Be Blood
Chapter Text
2000
“Lassie, what’s up?” Shawn asked with a wide smile as he showed up at the lobby of the art gallery, coming from the direction of the inside of the building. Carlton had no idea how he’d got the job as a curator, but he’d learned not to ask about it either, not since his boyfriend had been a judge on a cat beauty pageant. “Shouldn’t you be running after criminals until five?”
“I got the rest of the day off. Can we talk?” he asked, feeling jittery and excited.
Shawn’s frown was barely there as his eyes narrowed in that telltale sign of his, then his smile was back.
“Sure,” he agreed and led Carlton to the small office he shared with another curator. Shawn’s desk was recognizable by the police scanner he’d kept close at hand since Carlton had been shot. “So what happened? Did you finally get a case with an explosion? I know you really want one of those.”
“Zielinski’s retiring,” Carlton told him, not able to contain his grin anymore.
“The head detective?” Shawn asked, then his eyes widened as he quickly put the picture together. “Oh my God, you’re –”
“I’m gonna be head detective!” Carlton finished the sentence and he wanted to jump up and down like he was six. Shawn did it for him.
“You’re gonna be head detective!” he shouted, grinning wide and then he was hugging Carlton tightly and still trying to bounce in place. “Holy shit, Lass! That’s huge!”
“Youngest in the department’s history!” Carlton nodded, arms securely around Shawn’s waist as the Omega finally calmed enough to keep his feet on the ground.
Shawn drew back to look at him, eyes alight with happiness.
“I’m so proud of you!” he pulled Carlton in again for a series of frantic kisses on the Alpha’s cheeks and lips. “We’re celebrating tonight. Champagne and fancy food and all. Gotta call Mona, too.”
Carlton let out a laugh as Shawn let him go so he could prance around the room in uncontrollable energy.
“It’s not that urgent,” he said.
“No, no, I have to call Gus and brag that my boyfriend is Head Detective Carlton Jebediah Lassiter,” Shawn grinned. “You’ll have so much responsibility now, you’ll love it.”
“Probably,” Carlton agreed. “It’ll be official in two weeks.”
“That’s so great, Carly,” Shawn smiled brightly and Carlton loved him so fucking much. “So let’s get out of here and party.”
“Aren’t you working?” Carlton raised his brows.
Shawn stopped in his tracks for a moment, then shrugged.
“This job is too fancy for me, to be honest,” he gestured at the dark shirt and tan cotton pants he was wearing. “I don’t have the wardrobe for it and the money’s not worth it.”
“Thought you were enjoying it?” Carlton asked. Last time he’d been here the owner of the gallery had been praising Shawn to the heavens.
“Yeah, I’m good at convincing people to buy expensive things,” Shawn sighed. “But I’ve been here for two months now and my metaphor-reserves are drying up. ‘This painting represents the spirit of order within chaos and gives a deeper understanding to the duality of life.’ I don’t even know what duality means but it sounds good. And it’s just a bunch of colors on each other and people buy that! Now, if it would be a panda climbing a palm tree that’s full of donuts, I would get it. But now maybe I can be a water slide tester!”
It wasn’t often that Shawn got tired of bullshitting his way through jobs, but two months was almost a record for him. And he had a habit of not telling his bosses he was quitting, so Carlton just sighed because he wasn’t here to lecture Shawn on basic manners and he wasn’t one for politeness over efficiency anyway, and nodded towards the desk.
“Don’t leave the scanner.”
“Oh, yeah, thanks!” Shawn grinned, picked up the radio and then turned to the other desk and picked up the Snickers bar laying on it. Carlton cleared his throat. “Come on, it’s just chocolate. Debby wouldn’t miss it.”
“Spencer,” Carlton glared because he drew the line at flat-out stealing.
Shawn gave him a fond eye roll and put the bar back.
“Yes, Head Detective.”
Present Day
Carlton was always proud to wear his uniform, ever since he’d first put it on when he’d started at the Academy. It always made an impression and commanded respect wherever he went in it, but it also demanded a certain behavior, a bearing that should inspire feelings of awe and safety in the general population and fear in criminals.
His suits were infinitely more comfortable, though. He still had his badge and gun and they gave him the same authority the uniform did. It was still a kind of dress code, the fitted jacket and the white shirts and the ties, but they also gave him a kind of breathing room he liked. They didn’t lessen the responsibility, though. That had been a constant weight on his shoulders ever since he’d swore an oath and taken his badge.
Why everyone needed to be in uniform for a district conference, he didn’t know, but the Chief had given the order. At least Shawn had been enthusiastic by the outfit change, but he’d always had a thing for Carlton wearing it – it also kind of reminded Carlton their first year knowing each other when he’d still been a low-ranking officer.
Fortunately he didn’t have to give a presentation this time.
Carlton parked his car in the station’s parking lot as usual and was just on his way to the side entrance. He didn’t mean to hear it, but the two officers weren’t really trying to be quiet. They were having a smoke in one of the little alcoves just right of the door (they would probably need it to suffer through this conference) and Carlton wouldn’t have even noticed them if their voices hadn’t carried over. It also meant they hadn’t noticed Carlton.
“– that psychic guy?” a man asked and Carlton stopped in his tracks on the steps.
“Spencer?” another, whose voice Carlton recognized but couldn’t remember his name, said. “He’s been here for about two years now, coming and going as he pleases. He and his sidekick both.”
“The Chief likes to keep him around then?”
There was a scoff as an answer.
“The Chief? Yeah. He solves cases for her every other week, she would be stupid not to. But I bet Spencer comes in so often for Lassiter.”
“The head detective?” the first one asked. “The one who yelled at Dominguez for messing up his crime scene last week?” Oh yeah, Carlton remembered that somewhat. Dominguez had thought it would be a good idea to walk around in a flower shop with a pollen allergy. He’d probably have sneezed on the evidence if Carlton hadn’t intervened. “I heard the guy’s a hardass. Spencer’s into him?”
“Allen from the front desk said they’ve been together ever since Spencer started here. He chased off Lassiter’s partner first and then got his hands on him,” the second man said. “But it depends on who you ask, really. I’ve heard someone say Lassiter’s got a mate at home. Or that Spencer’s really here for Lassiter’s partner, you know, the pretty blonde one?”
“The Beta? She’s hot, yeah,” the first said with an appreciative sigh. “God, working on the second floor sucks. We miss all the good gossip.”
Carlton rolled his eyes and went inside, stopping at his desk for a moment before getting on his way to the big conference room they only used on special occasions on a remote part of the building. Most of the station was already there and he tried to look for O’Hara, the one certain point in this madness. Since everyone was wearing the same thing it was harder to spot her.
When he did find her, standing close to the podium, he almost turned around and walked back out at seeing who she was talking to. She did spot him the same time, though, her eyes finding him unerringly in the crowd.
“Carlton!” she waved with a smile. It was the first time Carlton saw her in uniform.
He bit back a curse and walked up to her.
“Ah, Lassiter!” the man standing way too close to her said and Carlton wanted to punch him in the face.
“Luntz,” he said with gritted teeth. He hadn’t seen the other Alpha in months and couldn’t say he’d missed the guy.
Bless Vick because she arrived just as Cameron Luntz, the commander of the SWAT team, could open his mouth again. Everyone started moving towards the nearest chair, Luntz (since he unfortunately wasn’t a complete idiot) among them.
“It was nice meeting you, detective,” he flashed a toothy smile towards O’Hara, and to Carlton’s horror his partner smiled back.
“You, too, Cameron.”
Jesus Christ. Carlton would have to deal with this, wouldn’t he? He really hoped O’Hara wasn’t about to repeat the whole mess with Ewing.
The Chief was having a row with her sister. Which would be totally okay with Carlton if he didn’t have the feeling that they were going to make whatever was going on his problem, too.
Psych was already involved, Shawn and Guster watching and waiting outside her office when Carlton joined them.
“I can’t get over it,” Guster said. “After all this time, the Chief never said she had a sister.”
“It’s strange,” Shawn agreed, arms crossed over his chest and eyes not leaving the Chief even as he leaned back a bit towards Carlton.
“She seems great,” the Alpha said. During the Franks case he hadn’t had the chance to meet the Commander because apparently pirates were not important enough for her to get involved.
“Yeah, but you think everyone with a commanding presence is great,” Shawn pointed out. Carlton shrugged. It was true.
“Hey, you should hear this. I got the Commander’s bio off the Coast Guard web site?” O’Hara appeared by Carlton’s side and that got Shawn to took his eyes off the office as he took the paper from her and cleared his throat.
“Commander B–”
O’Hara snatched the paper back and read to them a carrier impressive enough to make Shawn whistle. It soon didn’t matter because the Chief and the Commander decided to continue their rivalry outside. Vick seemed especially prickly, probably because she didn’t get the case. Carlton should call Lauren, just to tell her how much he appreciated her.
“– And since this is now in my jurisdiction, your psychic,” Commander Dunlap pointed at Shawn, “is my psychic.”
Shawn seemed to freeze at the very unwanted attention which was a rare sight, then pulled himself together.
“The only one with state-acclaimed ownership over my person is my Alpha,” he said slowly. The Chief’s glare turned on Carlton immediately. That could be a problem.
“You can do whatever you want,” the detective said quickly and he pushed past Shawn to shake hands with Dunlap. “Commander, Carlton Lassiter, head detective. I can honestly say that I have no control over Shawn whatsoever.” He didn’t wait for a reaction as he turned towards his partner. “O’Hara, what are you doing standing there? We have a missing persons case to work.”
O’Hara nodded quickly and fell in step with him towards their desks.
“I don’t know which one of them is more terrifying,” she whispered to him.
“Still the Chief,” Carlton answered without hesitation. “She signs our paychecks.”
“Point.”
Shawn seemed to be sulking when he appeared at Carlton’s desk two minutes later.
“Thanks for throwing me to the wolves, Lassie,” he pouted.
“You started it,” Carlton pointed out. “’State-acclaimed ownership?’ Really? This isn’t the Middle Ages.”
“I was put on the spot, I panicked,” his Omega muttered. “Now I gotta find a way to connect the case back to land so the Chief can be happy with me again.”
That would also mean Carlton would have the official permission to keep an eye on Shawn.
“This time try not to jump into the ocean,” Carlton told him.
“Not unless they point a gun at me, promise.”
He and O’Hara went out to buy lunch, simple sandwiches this time because they wouldn’t have time for much else today if they really dug into this case.
Thank his partner for being competent because Carlton was admittedly not on top of things, and they apparently were going to spend the next two days interviewing the students of their missing professor.
“You’re distracted,” she noted as she sat down next to him at his desk. Carlton hummed in answer, not trying to deny it but refusing to admit it. “Come on, what happened?”
Carlton only hesitated a moment about whether to tell her or not.
“I’ve heard there are rumors… about Shawn and I,” he told her.
O’Hara paused in the middle of lifting her sandwich to her mouth.
“Yeah?” she asked with zero surprise, a small frown on her face.
“You knew about them?” Carlton sat up straight in his chair, a sliver of betrayal curling in his chest.
O’Hara gave an apologetic grimace.
“Officers gossip, you know that,” she shrugged. “I didn’t think it’d matter to you.”
“It doesn’t,” Carlton said honestly. “I just don’t know why people care.”
He really didn’t know why it would bother him. He knew that talking about rumors were what could make a long shift or an even longer stakeout bearable for a lot of officers. Lucinda had thought they were a good source of information about who she worked with. Carlton just didn’t see the point. Someone’s private life shouldn’t affect their reliability on the job – at least Carlton’s didn’t, or hadn’t until Shawn had started showing up and solving cases and getting guns pointed at him…
Okay, so maybe he wasn’t as unaffected as he’d thought. He still didn’t know why anyone would find it worthy of talking about it if they weren’t criticizing his professionalism.
“You don’t know why the ‘whirlwind romance’ between the head detective and the psychic consultant is newsworthy?” O’Hara asked with raised brows.
“It wasn’t whirlwind!” Carlton objected, then thought about Shawn’s personality and amended, “Not in that way, anyway.”
“I know that, but I work with you,” O’Hara said. “Is this about you trying to protect Shawn’s virtue?”
“His what?” Carlton blinked at her uncomprehendingly before he got it. “No, of course not.” Shawn would relish in being the topic of rumors, he would probably stroke them with even more outlandish claims. That was why Carlton hadn’t breathed a word about this to him. “Forget I said anything. Let’s focus on the interview with the witnesses.”
O’Hara gave him a searching look.
“Okay. I’m here if you wanna talk, though,” she said kindly.
“Thanks, O’Hara.”
Shawn was in the station later that afternoon, just stepping out of the Chief’s office with a grin when Carlton was signing some paperwork at the front desk about the interviews. God, that had been exhausting. And hadn’t given them any new information on Professor Renaud.
“Hi, Lassie!” Shawn joined him, standing way in his personal space as usual.
“I see you’re back in the Chief’s good graces,” Carlton noted with a wry smile and turned back to the forms in front of him.
“Yes, I am,” Shawn snatched the pen out of the Alpha’s hand. Carlton sighed and looked back up at his mate. “And she definitely didn’t say she thinks I’m sweet.”
“What do you want?” Carlton asked.
“Why do you think I’d want anything besides your gorgeous blue eyes looking at me, Lass?” Shawn twirled the pen between his fingers. “Also, we’re out of pineapples. You do have the time to buy some on your way home, right?”
“Spencer.”
“Okay, I need Butch Hicks’ address,” Shawn admitted.
“The dead oil rig guy?” Carlton arched an eyebrow. “Why don’t you ask Commander Dunlap?”
“Because I’m asking you, Carlton, come on,” his Omega huffed. “Don’t be the guy at Starbucks who bought the last muffin before I could.”
“Alright, fine,” Carlton rolled his eyes. “As soon as you let me sign these.”
He held out his hand and Shawn grinned as he passed the pen back.
“Martha! Haven’t seen you in a while,” Shawn turned towards the other side of the desk and Allen looked up from her work with an indulgent smile. “How’s your new Beta treating you? Do you need a psychic reading to see if he’s worthy of you?”
Carlton didn’t bother listening to the rest of the conversation, but he wondered for a moment if Allen had eavesdropped on him and Shawn, ready to pass along whatever she’d heard. It wasn’t paranoia if they were out to get you, after all.
Of course Shawn found Renaud before Carlton and O’Hara could. To be fair, they hadn’t thought to look for the guy in Hick’s closet. So now they had two dead guys, the jurisdiction to lead the case (Vick seemed ecstatic), and not a lot of leads.
Counting the anti-governmental chemistry professor two weeks ago and the paleontologist from last year, Carlton thought the university should take better care of its teachers.
So it was no surprise that Carlton was a bit exhausted when he finally got home, the grocery bags carefully balanced in his hands.
“Oh, you’re the best!” Shawn greeted him and took the one with the pineapple in it out of Carlton’s arm and gave Carlton a quick thank-you kiss. “I was just teasing, you know.”
“I know,” the detective said and Shawn’s face softened into a besotted expression, his scent matching in its happiness. “So how are things with the Commander?”
“Oh, she fired us,” his Omega said as they relocated to the kitchen to start packing the groceries away.
“She fired you?” Carlton stopped, not completely surprised, because Shawn might’ve brought results but he was also in the middle of sisters’ feud. If Dunlap thought he was helping Vick – like finding evidence that made the case the Chief’s jurisdiction – she would be quick to get rid of Psych. “I bet Guster’s happy about that.”
“I already have a solution,” Shawn shrugged as he put the eggs in the fridge. “I just need to convince my dad to give us a ride on his boat to the oil rig.”
“Henry’s boat can’t take you out that far,” Carlton told him. “You need a bigger one for that.”
Shawn froze for only a moment at the news.
“You know how to drive a boat, right?” he straightened up. “We can rent a proper one and you can take us out there. Invite Jules, too, make a break in the case.”
“The proper term’s navigate, and I need to ask Vick, but I doubt the Coast Guard would be happy with us.”
“They're not happy with us now,” his mate pointed out.
“They're not happy with you,” Carlton corrected him as he put the cereal box in the cupboard. “And I think it would be easier for everyone until your hunch about Hicks being murdered is proven. That should take the Commander until lunch. You can sleep in.”
“Will you sleep in with me?” Shawn closed the fridge and leaned against it, tilting his head a little as he gave Carlton a considering look.
“Unfortunately, no,” the Alpha said. “Because I have a job with actual work hours.”
“Then no, I don’t think I’ll sleep in,” Shawn shrugged. “Might go for a snack run with Gus. We’re almost out of Skittles in the office. Or… I might just take a look at the geologist lab on the oil rig and find some evidence, so when we go there together I can psychically point you in the right direction.”
Carlton sighed.
“Or that.”
He was going through the emails that had threatened Hicks (coming from Renaud) and the lab results had confirmed Hicks to be Renaud’s murderer by a hammer. Then Luntz, of all people, showed up.
“Lassiter!” the guy swaggered over to Carlton’s desk. “How’s it going?”
“As you can see I’m in the middle of something,” the detective didn’t even bother to look up. “What do you want?”
“Searching for your partner,” Luntz said easily. “She’s not at her desk so I thought maybe you could tell me where I can find her.”
Carlton looked up. Sharply.
“You know which one’s her desk?” he asked. Since when had this been going on, Luntz waltzing into the bullpen like he hadn’t implied a dozen times over the years that he and his team were better than regular cops?
“It’s not a hard deduction to make,” Luntz shrugged, which okay, O’Hara’s desk was almost always in order and the only one with a chapstick on it in the whole department.
“She’s making calls,” Carlton said, not going into details. Just because Luntz was technically on the force, it didn’t mean he could be privy to an ongoing investigation. Since they knew when Hicks had been killed they needed to confirm alibis from the workers on the oil rig. “You know, working.”
Luntz, like they were friends or something, leaned against the edge of Carlton’s desk.
“Hey, you can help out here,” he said. “What’s Juliet’s opinion on Italian? I’m thinking of taking her out to Mario’s.”
She’d fucking love that, was Carlton’s first thought. Damn it, Luntz was good. Also double O’Hara’s age and Carlton had hated him since before he’d become SWAT commander.
“I don’t think about my partner’s dining preferences,” Carlton told him.
“Guess you have enough on your plate,” Luntz hummed. “Heard your mate loves wreaking havoc while solving your cases for you.”
Oh, for the love of –
“Lassiter!” the Chief shouted from her office door, both she and her sister cutting through the officers to reach him.
“Where’s Spencer?” Dunlap asked, slapping her hands down on the desk in front of him.
“Commander Luntz, I ask you to let Detective Lassiter work,” Vick sent the guy a look. She had no actual authority over him but, again, Luntz wasn’t that much of an idiot, so he nodded respectfully and left.
Carlton took a moment to take in the pair of sisters looming over him, similarly excited, impatient gleams in their eyes.
“Probably on the rig already.”
“Then grab O’Hara and let’s go!” Vick smiled widely. So… feud at least temporarily forgotten. Okay.
Finding Shawn in a closet with Guster after Ashley Bamford, the daughter of the owner of the oil rig, had locked them in there was only a little surprising. O’Hara had already placed her to be their main suspect thanks to her phone calls, and Bamford running as soon as they’d asked her about it only confirmed things.
“Oh, Jules, Lassie,” Shawn relaxed as he realized who’d opened the door and Carlton and O’Hara lowered their weapons. “Thank God. It’s Ashley Bamford. She’s armed.”
At least Shawn knew to only say the vital information.
“We know. We’re in pursuit.” Carlton pointed at his mate emphatically. “You two stay put. Do you understand?”
“Got it,” he heard Guster’s answer as they were already following the Chief and the Commander to the lower levels, hearing the ringing shots of gunfire.
If it were up to Guster they probably even would’ve stayed in the damn closet, but it didn’t take Shawn two minutes to have the gun pointed at him as he tried to talk Bamford down.
Carlton used his Omega’s complete lack of self-preservation to inch closer to her. He was quite proud of himself that he kept his calm until Shawn had her gun in his hand.
“You really shouldn’t have tackled her, Carly,” Shawn said later, as they were waiting for the helicopter to take Bamford back to the mainland. The Chief and the Commander were guarding her in Hicks’ office until they could march her topside. As the office was too small otherwise, the rest of them were waiting outside. O’Hara took it on herself to take watch by the stairs, asking Guster about the case.
“You were about to hug a murderer, Spencer,” Carlton muttered darkly, arms crossed as he leaned against the wall across the barely open door. “What were you thinking, going out in the open like that?”
“I was thinking that Gus would have my back,” his mate shot a glare at his partner who glared back without guilt.
“This is not seventh grade, you can’t expect the ‘Gus is a table’ trick to work in a situation with five guns,” Carlton growled lowly, fingers itching for his Glock. God, no wonder he was starting to see some gray hairs in the mirror.
Shawn put a hand on his arm.
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “But when Gus didn’t move I knew I had to talk her down. She was just trying to protect his father, and yes, she killed someone,” he said quickly when Carlton opened his mouth, “I don’t try to justify that, but she wouldn’t have come out of a shootout alive, and there was a chance that one of you wouldn’t have, either, and I just… didn’t want anyone to die,” he finished with a sigh.
“And I don’t want you to die, you get that?” Carlton asked, softening despite his best efforts. Shawn hadn’t made an oath to protect and serve and Carlton wouldn’t make peace with his crazy, life-threatening ideas just because he thought he could pull them off – at least not until Shawn was willing to carry an actual weapon with him.
Shawn, disregarding place and time as usual, put his chin on Carlton’s shoulder and cuddled close, his scent betraying for the first time that he was a bit shaken by the last half an hour. Carlton, disregarding protocol, put the arm not resting on his holster around him. He caught O’Hara’s fond look shot in their direction as Shawn whispered, “Yeah, I get it.”
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