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31_days2009-09-04 04:53 pm
rosehiptea.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2009-09-04 04:53 pm
[September 4] [Psych] Head to Desk
Title: Head to Desk
Day/Theme: September 4/the hidden secret button inside your head
Series: Psych
Character/Pairing: Shawn/Lassiter
Rating: PG
Word Count: 587
Lassiter stared at his desk, wondering what exactly would happen if he hit his head against it very hard. He had heard some expression, he thought from Shawn Spencer, about banging heads on desks. Probably it would only give him a headache, but it certainly wouldn't make his day any worse.
He had been questioning a suspect in a murder. The old lady looked plenty shifty to him, but O'Hara had insisted on playing nice. And when Carlton started asking his own questions, hoping to be the "bad cop," the woman started crying. And then her dog had peed on Lassiter's shoes.
About when Lassiter was considering taking his frustration out on paper targets at the firing range, Spencer decided to drop by.
"I'm not in the mood for it," he said when the so-called psychic's head peeked around the door.
"I didn't even proposition you yet," said Spencer with a little smirk.
"You didn't-- wait, what?"
"Never mind," Spencer went on. He put one hand out, palm down, and began twiddling his fingers. Eyes closed, he said, "You had a really lousy day. And someone's pet peed on your shoes. Possibly one of those dogs the size of a microbe."
"If you're trying to get me to believe--"
"Am I right or wrong?" Spencer persisted.
He sighed. "You're right. This time."
"Aw, poor Lassy."
"That's Detective Lassiter," he said irritably. "Now will you please get out of here?"
"Not yet."
Spencer put his hand on Lassiter's head.
"I can access the secret spot in your brain to make you forget your horrible day and relax."
He wanted to answer, to say "Don't touch me," but Spencer was rubbing his head in little circles with his fingers and damn it, it felt good. Even if he probably had some prank he wanted to play at the end of this.
"Think of your favorite place. A place without tiny yappy dogs."
All Lassiter could think of was Spencer's fingers and the fact that he hadn't pushed him away. He let his eyes close, and found himself actually relaxing.
"You need to solve a case..." Spencer murmured.
"And you want me to let you help?"
To his surprise, Spencer said "No."
"Then why are you being so nice to me?"
"Did you see the Breakfast Club, Lassy?"
"No, why?" he asked.
Spencer had his face next to Lassiter's now, whispering in his ear. "I thought you were trying to get me to start quoting it."
"No." He was beginning to feel distinctly uncomfortable at the way the man was practically draped over him.
That was when Spencer kissed the back of his neck. Lassiter felt chills, and his eyes flew open.
"Hey!"
Spencer just backed away and put a finger to his lips. "Shhhh... I won't tell if you won't."
Then he went out the door without even a good-bye. Lassiter wasn't sure what to think. Did he mean that it wouldn't happen again, or that it would? Or would he have to see a bunch of '80s movies before he could figure it out?
Spencer probably hadn't been making any kind of a pass at him. It was just one of his stupid jokes, and if Lassiter made a big deal out of it he'd end up looking stupid. Better to go down to the firing range and forget that a part of him, ridiculously enough, had wanted to kiss Shawn Spencer. And if that didn't work, maybe he'd bang his head on the desk after all.
Day/Theme: September 4/the hidden secret button inside your head
Series: Psych
Character/Pairing: Shawn/Lassiter
Rating: PG
Word Count: 587
Lassiter stared at his desk, wondering what exactly would happen if he hit his head against it very hard. He had heard some expression, he thought from Shawn Spencer, about banging heads on desks. Probably it would only give him a headache, but it certainly wouldn't make his day any worse.
He had been questioning a suspect in a murder. The old lady looked plenty shifty to him, but O'Hara had insisted on playing nice. And when Carlton started asking his own questions, hoping to be the "bad cop," the woman started crying. And then her dog had peed on Lassiter's shoes.
About when Lassiter was considering taking his frustration out on paper targets at the firing range, Spencer decided to drop by.
"I'm not in the mood for it," he said when the so-called psychic's head peeked around the door.
"I didn't even proposition you yet," said Spencer with a little smirk.
"You didn't-- wait, what?"
"Never mind," Spencer went on. He put one hand out, palm down, and began twiddling his fingers. Eyes closed, he said, "You had a really lousy day. And someone's pet peed on your shoes. Possibly one of those dogs the size of a microbe."
"If you're trying to get me to believe--"
"Am I right or wrong?" Spencer persisted.
He sighed. "You're right. This time."
"Aw, poor Lassy."
"That's Detective Lassiter," he said irritably. "Now will you please get out of here?"
"Not yet."
Spencer put his hand on Lassiter's head.
"I can access the secret spot in your brain to make you forget your horrible day and relax."
He wanted to answer, to say "Don't touch me," but Spencer was rubbing his head in little circles with his fingers and damn it, it felt good. Even if he probably had some prank he wanted to play at the end of this.
"Think of your favorite place. A place without tiny yappy dogs."
All Lassiter could think of was Spencer's fingers and the fact that he hadn't pushed him away. He let his eyes close, and found himself actually relaxing.
"You need to solve a case..." Spencer murmured.
"And you want me to let you help?"
To his surprise, Spencer said "No."
"Then why are you being so nice to me?"
"Did you see the Breakfast Club, Lassy?"
"No, why?" he asked.
Spencer had his face next to Lassiter's now, whispering in his ear. "I thought you were trying to get me to start quoting it."
"No." He was beginning to feel distinctly uncomfortable at the way the man was practically draped over him.
That was when Spencer kissed the back of his neck. Lassiter felt chills, and his eyes flew open.
"Hey!"
Spencer just backed away and put a finger to his lips. "Shhhh... I won't tell if you won't."
Then he went out the door without even a good-bye. Lassiter wasn't sure what to think. Did he mean that it wouldn't happen again, or that it would? Or would he have to see a bunch of '80s movies before he could figure it out?
Spencer probably hadn't been making any kind of a pass at him. It was just one of his stupid jokes, and if Lassiter made a big deal out of it he'd end up looking stupid. Better to go down to the firing range and forget that a part of him, ridiculously enough, had wanted to kiss Shawn Spencer. And if that didn't work, maybe he'd bang his head on the desk after all.