Fic: "Games," Psych
Aug. 12th, 2009 11:59 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
elles_lettersSummary: Shawn doesn't like to lose, but let's face it: Lassie's face muscles are tough competition.
Warnings: Minor language. One "f-bomb," but that's about it.
Disclaimer: Psych and all related characters are the property of USA Networks and a bunch of other people in suits. Please don't sue.
Shawn Spencer was not a happy man. For the last six months, he had been locked in an intense, head-to-head competition with Carlton Lassiter. And, damn it all, the detective was winning. The only thing that helped soothe Shawn’s pride was that Lassiter didn't even know it.
The detective's success wasn’t unexpected. He had a natural advantage in the Make-Lassie-Smile game. A game that, while not as challenging as the Make-Gus-Visibly-Blush game, was far more rewarding.
The rules were simple: Shawn had to get Lassiter to smile a genuine, non-sarcastic, non-predatory smile without the use of props, visual aids, physical stimulation (i.e. no tickling) or mood-altering drugs. If Lassiter smiled, Shawn’s point. If Shawn’s efforts were somehow resisted, Lassiter’s point.
The score was currently Lassiter: 37, Shawn: 2. It was embarrassing, really. He was Shawn Spencer. He was quirky, adorable and charming. He was, for lack of a better phrase, fucking irresistible. Whatever immunity Lassiter had built up, Shawn was determined to beat it down.
Shawn scanned the bullpen of the police department, looking for the dark-haired detective. He found the man sitting at his desk, speaking animatedly into the phone.
Shawn studied him. His hunched shoulders and hushed voice meant that it was his ex-wife on the other end. That woman had the power to influence Lassiter’s emotions in ways Shawn couldn’t help but envy. A phone call from her could result in Lassiter smirking, fuming or pouting. (Interestingly enough, pouting Lassiter looked just like fuming Lassiter.) Lassiter's anxious voice carried across the bullpen. The conversation wasn’t going well for him. Victoria was shutting him down mid-sentence.
“How was I supposed to know—”
“Well, if you would answer—”
“I already told you that—”
“If that’s how you feel about then why—hello?,” Lassiter pushed the buttons on his phone frantically. “Hello?” He stared at the phone in anger before slamming it on the cradle.
A few startled officers looked over at his desk, only to quickly turn away when they met sharp, blue eyes. Realizing how big of a scene he was causing, the dark-haired man began shuffling through the files on his desk in an attempt to look busy.
A sane person would have realized that now was not a good to approach the detective, but Shawn was never one to turn down a challenge
Pouty Lassiter. Perfect, Shawn thought. My prey is vulnerable. Now’s the time to attack.
Shawn pressed himself against the wall and began slowly creeping up on the agitated man.
When stalking the temperamental Lassidon, it’s best not to make any sudden moves.
Shawn dropped to all fours and began crawling between the maze of desks that stood between him and his goal. Officers stepped over him as he made his way across the room. A few were surprised. Shawn didn’t usually crawl around this early in the morning.
The Lassidon has an advanced sense of sight and sound, so always be aware of your surroundings.
Shawn crouched behind the desk across from Lassiter’s. The detective was now facing his computer, seemingly engrossed in his work. He wasn’t fooling Shawn, however. He was typing much more aggressively than normal. An angry email to his ex, most likely. Typing out what he didn’t get the chance to say.
The Lassidon is nothing if not predictable.
Lassiter looked over and spotted Shawn.
Shawn ducked.
“Spencer, I see you behind that desk,” a tired voice called out.
So much for the hunt.
Shawn sprung up and skipped the short distance to Lassiter’s desk. He jumped onto the worn wood, settling himself in the middle of the detective’s workspace. He decided to ignore it when Lassiter quickly minimized his email window.
He smiled at the glowering face in front of him. “Hey, Lassie. How’s it hangin’?”
“What do you want, Spencer?” Lassiter’s voice lacked its usual bite. The detective wasn’t even looking at him; instead he began to make a show of looking for something in his desk drawers.
Shawn grabbed one of the files he was sitting on and began flipping through it. “Why, Lassie I just wanted to check in on a fellow co-worker. You seem so stressed.”
Lassiter snatched the file out of Shawn’s hands. “I’m a cop. It comes with the job.”
“Yes, but the salt and pepper in your hair has been getting saltier. Too much sodium isn’t good for your heart.” Shawn pulled at the hair at Lassiter’s temples for proof.
“Like you care,” Lassiter growled, swatting Shawn’s hands away. Then his face fell. “Like anyone cares,” he said quietly.
That was interesting.
Shawn cocked his head. “I’m surprised, Lassie. Self-pity isn’t your thing.”
Blue eyes met green. “It’s not pity, Spencer. It’s just a difficult truth.”
Very interesting.
It wasn't a great leap of logic for Shawn to figure out what had gotten Lassiter’s goat. If Lassiter and Victoria were anything like Shawn’s parents, their arguments centered on the following accusations: Lassiter worked too hard, Lassiter was a cold, insensitive bastard and Lassiter hadn’t tried hard enough to save their marriage.
Great work, Vicki, Shawn thought sarcastically. He’s starting to believe all the crap you tell him.
“Truth?” Shawn raised his hands to his head and closed his eyes. “No, I’m sorry,” Shawn said, shaking his head. “The spirits disagree, Lassie.”
Lassiter scoffed. “What the hell do the spirits know?” he asked quietly.
Shawn put his hands on Lassiter’s head. The detective froze in rage and confusion.
“The spirits know that you’re not completely unfeeling, Lassie. You still care about your ex-wife. You’ve always cared about her, but you also care about the people of Santa Barbara. And even if she doesn’t appreciate that, there are hundreds of thousands people in this city who do.”
Shawn lowered his hands and opened his eyes. Lassiter was still staring at him. “One of them is looking at you.” Shawn hoped that Lassiter could hear the sincerity in his voice.
The detective stared a few seconds longer, before ducking his head. Lassiter shooed Shawn away, half-heartedly trying to push the psychic off his desk. He turned back to his computer, but not before Shawn caught sight of something. A smile was slowly spreading across the detective’s face. It was a tad bittersweet and a bit wobblier than Shawn would have liked, but it was a smile nonetheless. Shawn felt his own smile grow as he hopped off the desk.
Lassiter: 37. Me: 3.
“The spirits accept your apology of their never-ending knowledge,” Shawn said as he slowly backed away from Lassiter’s desk.
That did it. The smile grew just a bit sturdier. Dammit, Shawn loved that smile. It was why he played the game. And, despite his horrible showing so far, Shawn would keep playing. The prize was simply too irresistible.
Shawn turned and ambled out of the bullpen. “See ya later, Lassie.”
He wasn’t expecting a response, so he was surprised when a calm voice replied.
“Later, Spencer.”
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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Date: 2009-08-13 06:24 am (UTC)And LOL 'Lassidon.'
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Date: 2009-08-13 06:31 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-08-13 05:37 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-08-13 03:36 pm (UTC)For the sake of continuity, this shot takes place before season 3’s “Tuesday the 17th.” This is also posted at ff.net, but again, I felt this could stand on its own.
and
Shot V: Games
imply that this story is a part of a series, but there was no mention of it in the
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Date: 2009-08-13 05:40 pm (UTC)I didn't think all of the one-shots were good enough to be posted on their own, so only two have made it to my LiveJournal. But you're right, a link would help. I've edited the entry, so it's hopefully less confusing. Sorry about that.
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Date: 2009-08-13 07:08 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2009-08-19 03:22 am (UTC)I love the whole Animal Planet take Shawn was using as he observed Carlton. d:
I also love Lassiter's hair -- and I must admit, I'm disappointed that Lassiter practically shaved it off. It better grow back soon! D: lol
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Date: 2009-09-01 11:03 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2009-09-17 12:42 am (UTC)YES!
Date: 2009-11-17 11:34 am (UTC)Thank you so, so much. <3
Re: YES!
Date: 2009-11-19 09:34 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-08-19 12:08 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-08-19 01:13 am (UTC)I loved the Lassidon hunt, and the way that Shawn goes from being silly and crawling on the floor to being serious (as serious as Shawn can be) and caring with Lassie.
“The spirits know that you’re not completely unfeeling, Lassie. You still care about your ex-wife. You’ve always cared about her, but you also care about the people of Santa Barbara. And even if she doesn’t appreciate that, there are hundreds of thousands people in this city who do.”
Shawn lowered his hands and opened his eyes. Lassiter was still staring at him. “One of them is looking at you.” Shawn hoped that Lassiter could hear the sincerity in his voice.
^That bit right there. LOVE it. ♥
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Date: 2010-08-19 03:22 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-08-19 06:46 am (UTC)Wonderful, just wonderful!
Aww
Date: 2010-08-21 01:35 pm (UTC)