FIC: A Lassierella Story (5/6)
Title: A Lassierella Story
Author: moondragon25 (or moondragon23 on other sites)
Pairing: Carlton/OFC
Rating: PG-13
Summary: It starts like a fairy tale. Guy and girl meet at a party. Girl runs off before the guy learns her name, leaving only a piece of her outfit behind. Guy looks for girl.
Of course, the prince never had to worry about escaped convicts and hostage situations while trying to get his girl. Lassiter will have to work a little bit harder for his happy ending.
Disclaimer: I do not own Psych or any of its characters. All other publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5: Real Life Consequences
“There you go, Ms. Holden. You'll need to keep that splint on for the next four weeks but your wrist will heal just fine.”
Liz ran her fingers along the tan splint on her right arm. This was going to make her weekly weapons practice a challenge. Good thing she made sure to practice with her left arm as well. “Thank you, doctor.”
“I'll get you a prescription for some pain meds and your discharge papers so you can go home,” he said.
Liz nodded. She really wanted to go home, take a long, hot soak in her tub, and forget this day had ever happened. After she found out how Lassiter was doing. They had been separated once they reached the hospital and she hadn't been able to find out anything about him.
Maybe the universe was trying to make up for her horrible day, because Juliet came in as soon as the doctor left the room. “So, what's the prognosis?”
“Bad sprain. I have to wear a splint for a month.” Liz held up her arm.
Juliet winced in sympathy. “That sucks.” She pulled a chair up to Liz's bed and sat down, pulling out a notepad. “Mind if we talk for a minute?”
Liz sighed. “Police business?”
Juliet nodded. “I need to get your statement while it's still fresh in your mind.”
“Can I ask something first?” When Juliet nodded, she asked, “How is Lassiter?”
Juliet frowned. “He's still unconscious. The doctor said he has a moderate concussion and three cracked ribs. Right now, all we can do is wait for him to wake up.”
It didn't sound good and Juliet looked as worried as Liz felt. Unfortunately, there was nothing she could do to help this time. She sighed. “Where do you want me to start?”
Juliet thought for a moment. “When did Mayson first come into the coffee shop?”
“Around noon.” Liz recited everything she could remember about Mayson, what happened once Lassiter entered the shop and all the way through to when the police burst in. The only thing she left out was the conversation they had in the storage room about the party. She didn't think that was relevant to the case and until she talked to Lassiter again, she didn't want anyone to know about it.
Juliet listened to it all, making notes and asking the occasional question. When she finished, the detective shook her head. “I can't believe he pulled a stunt like that. What was he thinking?”
“I think he felt responsible for what happened because he was the one trying to find Mitchells,” Liz said. She had had a lot of time to think about everything while waiting for the doctor to show up. “He saved my life,” she added quietly.
“Which wouldn't have needed saving if you had gone out the back like Carlton asked you to,” Juliet pointed out with a disapproving frown.
“I didn't want him going after Mitchells without any help.” Liz shrugged and looked away. “It didn't exactly go as planned.”
“I'll say.” Juliet stood up and put her notepad away. “That's all I need for now. You'll need to come down to the station to give your official statement soon. I'll go find your doctor so you can get out of here.”
The doctor must have been waiting for Juliet to finish because they both returned within a couple of minutes. Liz got her prescription and Juliet helped her fill out the discharge papers (she could fight left handed but couldn't write very well). Once she was free to leave, she was unsure what to do next.
“What is that in your hand?” Juliet asked.
Liz looked down at the scrap of fabric. She had taken it out while waiting for the doctor to come back, finding it soothing to rub the smooth fabric. “Nothing.”
“May I?” Juliet asked. She examined it for a minute before handing it back. “You're the woman from the party.”
“Um, yeah,” Liz said, surprised Lassiter had said anything about it.
“I guess since you have that, Carlton figured it out.” Juliet smiled at her reassuringly. “I'm glad. He's been insufferable the last few days trying to find you.”
“Really?” Liz asked, unable to hide a smile.
Juliet nodded. “You really made an impression on him.”
Liz looked back down at the scrap, rubbing it slowly. “Would you mind if I waited here until Lassiter woke up? I want to make sure he's okay.”
Juliet gently put her hand on Liz's arm, causing her to look up. “Of course,” she said kindly. “There are a bunch of us already gathered in the waiting room. You can join us.”
“Thank you.” Liz could feel tears pricking her eyes and swallowed hard as she looked away again.
Juliet stepped back. “I'll give you a minute to yourself. You'll be able to find us easily once you’re ready.”
Liz nodded, waiting until Juliet left to wipe her eyes. She wasn't normally so emotional but today had definitely not been a normal day. Between being held hostage, finding her mystery man, getting into a life and death struggle and almost losing Lassiter when she had just found him. . .
Her breath hitched and she shook her head to clear it of the morbid thought. He was going to be fine; she had to believe that. She took a few deep breaths, centering herself like she had learned in her yoga classes. Once she felt calm again, she shoved the scrap in her pocket and left the room.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Lassiter slowly opened his eyes, wincing at the bright light. Boy, did this feel familiar. He must have made some kind of noise, because the light immediately dimmed. “Carlton?”
He turned his head, squinting to get the room into focus. O'Hara was sitting next to him and he appeared to be lying in a bed. Add in the steady beeping and the antiseptic smell and he had a pretty good idea of where he was. “Hospital?”
O'Hara nodded. “You passed out at the scene. That's what you get for running around with a concussion.” She reached over and pressed a button against the wall and he gave her a questioning look. “The doctor wanted to know when you woke up,” she explained.
“How long?”
O'Hara glanced at the clock. “About six hours.” She gave his hand a squeeze. “We were worried about you.”
“I'm fine,” he said, earning himself a snort. “In fact, as soon as I see the doctor, I'll be out of here.” He hated hospitals and didn't plan on sticking around any longer than he had to.
O'Hara raised an eyebrow. “We'll see about that.”
An older woman with blonde hair entered the room, followed by a nurse. “It's good to see you awake, detective. I'm Dr. Locklear and I've been treating you.”
“How soon can I leave?”
Dr. Locklear chuckled. “I was told that would be the first thing you would ask. First, let me examine you.” She checked his eyes and asked a few questions to determine his mental status. He winced when she checked the back of his head. “Stitches look good and no signs of infection.” She also checked his left side, causing a flare of pain.
“Broken ribs?” he asked through gritted teeth.
“Just cracked.” She made a note on his chart and handed it to the nurse. “I'll get you some more pain meds. We didn't want to give you too strong a dose until you woke up.”
“So a concussion and cracked ribs, is that it?” Lassiter asked. He could manage fine on his own if there wasn't anything else wrong with him.
“Along with numerous contusions and a black eye. We want you to stay overnight for observation.” Dr. Locklear held up a hand. “And before you argue, Chief Vick is waiting outside to ensure you stay.”
Lassiter groaned. Sign out AMA one time with a head injury and pass out at a crime scene and nobody trusts you anymore.
“Cheer up, detective. I believe you'll recover fine, if you give yourself the chance to rest.” She looked over at O'Hara. “I know everyone wants to see him, but let's keep it to two at a time at most and keep the visits short.”
“Yes, ma'am.”
“I'll be back to check up on you later,” Dr. Locklear said.
Once the doctor left, Lassiter turned to O'Hara. “How much trouble am I in?”
“On a scale of one to ten? About fifty.” She grinned at Lassiter's groan. “That's what you get for disobeying a direct order. On the bright side, we got Mitchells and he had the missing diamonds on him. Plus, Jack Mayson was wanted on two outstanding burglary charges and was Mitchells’ accomplice at the court house.”
“His name was really Jack?” Lassiter asked in surprise. O'Hara frowned in confusion. “Never mind.” The collars would help but he had no doubt he would still be held responsible for what happened. He could probably consider the enforced hospital stay as the first part of his punishment.
“Maybe it won't be too bad,” O'Hara said unconvincingly.
Lassiter sighed. “I should have caught him sooner. It's my fault this happened.”
O'Hara frowned. “Carlton, nobody is blaming you for not finding Mitchells. They're only blaming you for going after him against a direct order. We had the place surrounded; there was no way he was getting away.”
“I guess.” It was still a hit to his pride, being captured like that. He couldn't have just sat there and done nothing. At least he'd had the satisfaction of taking Mitchells down before the police arrived. Well, with some help. “How's Liz?”
“Sprained wrist and some bruises but she'll be fine,” O'Hara said.
Lassiter frowned. “She shouldn't have been there. I told her to leave out the back while I took care of Mitchells.” Another point at which he had failed.
“She didn't want you going in alone,” O'Hara said. “And really, taking on two guys with a concussion? You needed the backup.”
“You talked to her?” Lassiter asked sharply.
O'Hara nodded. “She's been waiting with the rest of us for you to wake up. She wanted to make sure you were all right.”
“She did?” Lassiter could feel a smile threatening to break out on his face. He cleared his throat, struggling to keep his expression neutral.
O'Hara grinned. “I can see why you've been obsessing about her for days. She's an interesting woman.”
“How did you know it was her?” Lassiter asked in surprise.
O'Hara winked. “I have my ways.” She patted Lassiter's hand and stood up. “I'll go get her. I think you'll both be happier being able to see for yourselves your both fine.”
Lassiter couldn't argue with that. No matter what everyone said, he needed to see her in order to truly believe she was all right. He glanced around the room, wishing he had a mirror or some kind of reflective surface to check his reflection. His hair always got messy when he slept and the doctor had said something about a black eye. He hoped he didn't look too bad, although that may get him some sympathy points.
There was a light knock at the door and Liz poked her head in. “Hey, mind if I come in?”
“Not at all.” Lassiter watched as she entered the room and shut the door, using the time to study her. He could see her arm was in a splint and she was moving a bit stiffly but there didn't appear to be any major injuries. He relaxed slightly, relieved she hadn't been badly hurt.
Liz took the chair O'Hara had recently vacated. “How are you feeling?”
“I've been better,” Lassiter admitted. He started reaching towards Liz's hand without thinking, stopping himself at the last second and hoping she didn't notice. “How about you?”
Liz slowly took Lassiter's hand, lips twitching in a small smile when he didn't pull away. “Sore and my wrist is going to make life difficult for the next few weeks.” She shrugged. “I've been worse. You don't learn medieval weaponry without getting a few injuries along the way. At least this is better than when I broke my collar bone.”
Lassiter nodded. He knew from his own experience from a mountain biking accident (thank you O'Hara). “I'm sorry.”
Liz's brow furrowed in confusion. “For what?”
Lassiter felt the guilt welling up inside him. “For you getting hurt, for you being held hostage. Mayson never would have grabbed you if I hadn't been there.”
“I don't blame you for what he did. You’re not responsible for his actions.” She looked down at their clasped hands, gently tracing his knuckles. His skin sparked at her light touch. “If I wasn't there, it would have been Mandy or one of the other girls grabbed. They might not have been as helpful fighting against Mayson.”
“You shouldn't have been part of that fight,” he said. “I should have made you leave.”
Liz smirked. “If you had tried, Mitchells would have known something was up before we even left the room. I wasn't going to leave you on your own against those two.”
Lassiter sighed. Liz was probably right but it didn't make him feel any less guilty.
Liz poked him gently on the right side of his chest. “Hey, stop blaming yourself. I'm capable of getting into plenty of trouble on my own.”
“I'd believe it,” he muttered. Liz chuckled, the sound helping to ease some of the tightness in his chest. “So, you work in a coffee shop?”
Liz nodded. “I also teach at UC Santa Barbara part time. Medieval history.”
“I'm more into the Civil War period myself,” Lassiter said.
“If you decide to branch out, you can sit in on one of my classes, Carlton.” She made a face. “It's so weird using your first name.”
Lassiter rolled his eyes. “I'm sorry not everyone can have a normal name like Elizabeth.”
Liz blushed. “Actually, my first name is Eliza.”
Lassiter snorted. “And you're complaining about my name?”
“Shut up, Carlton,” Liz said, though she was grinning.
They both lapsed into silence. It wasn't uncomfortable, exactly, but Lassiter knew there were things the two of them were avoiding saying to each other. Not that he was eager to be the first one to say anything. He thought back over the day and how Liz had come to his rescue when he was lying on the floor. “You should have gone for my gun,” he said blurted out, then mentally kicked himself. That's right, Carlton, critique the woman who saved your life. That will surely get her to go out with you.
“I don't know how to use one,” Liz said. “It seemed safer to jump him instead.”
“I could take you to a gun range and teach you, if you want,” Lassiter offered on impulse.
Liz raised an eyebrow. “Seems a strange location for a first date.”
“I - I didn’t mean - As an officer I have a duty to help the public,” Lassiter sputtered. Not that a date at a gun range sounded bad to him, but he knew most women didn't feel the same way. He clamped his mouth shut before he said anything else stupid.
“Oh.” Liz looked faintly disappointed.
Lassiter took a deep breath, ignoring the twinge in his side. He had faced down drug lords and murderers without breaking a sweat. Asking someone out shouldn't be this hard. “I would suggest a nice dinner for a first date. Maybe a movie.” It would be worth the price with Liz's company.
She smiled. “That sounds nice.”
Lassiter let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. “8 o’clock on Friday?”
“Seven would be better,” Liz said, smile widening.
“Seven it is,” Lassiter said, smiling as well.
The door opened and Spencer poked his head in. “Now that you two love birds are done asking each other out, can the rest of us come in?”
“Get out of here, Spencer!” Lassiter yelled, breath catching as his ribs throbbed painfully.
“All right, all right,” Spencer said. “Keep your shirt on. Well, hospital gown.”
Liz glanced at him worriedly. “I think you better leave, Shawn.”
Spencer glanced at him too and winced. “Sorry,” he said, closing the door.
Lassiter looked over at Liz once he caught his breath. “He has no sense of personal boundaries.”
Liz smiled. “I know. He stops by the coffee shop pretty often.” She looked at the door, then back at him, biting her lip. “I should go. There are people waiting to see you.”
“One thing first.” Tugging Liz down, he kissed her, putting as much energy into it while lying slightly breathless in a hospital bed. Her cheeks were bright red when she pulled away. “Now you can go.”
“Okay.” She turned back when she reached the door. “See you later, Carlton.”
Lassiter smiled, feeling pretty good for a man lying in a hospital bed with cracked ribs, a concussion, and a swarm of people about to descend on him. None of it mattered; he had a date with a beautiful woman to look forward to.
Only the epilogue left. See you all next week.
Chapter 6
Author: moondragon25 (or moondragon23 on other sites)
Pairing: Carlton/OFC
Rating: PG-13
Summary: It starts like a fairy tale. Guy and girl meet at a party. Girl runs off before the guy learns her name, leaving only a piece of her outfit behind. Guy looks for girl.
Of course, the prince never had to worry about escaped convicts and hostage situations while trying to get his girl. Lassiter will have to work a little bit harder for his happy ending.
Disclaimer: I do not own Psych or any of its characters. All other publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5: Real Life Consequences
“There you go, Ms. Holden. You'll need to keep that splint on for the next four weeks but your wrist will heal just fine.”
Liz ran her fingers along the tan splint on her right arm. This was going to make her weekly weapons practice a challenge. Good thing she made sure to practice with her left arm as well. “Thank you, doctor.”
“I'll get you a prescription for some pain meds and your discharge papers so you can go home,” he said.
Liz nodded. She really wanted to go home, take a long, hot soak in her tub, and forget this day had ever happened. After she found out how Lassiter was doing. They had been separated once they reached the hospital and she hadn't been able to find out anything about him.
Maybe the universe was trying to make up for her horrible day, because Juliet came in as soon as the doctor left the room. “So, what's the prognosis?”
“Bad sprain. I have to wear a splint for a month.” Liz held up her arm.
Juliet winced in sympathy. “That sucks.” She pulled a chair up to Liz's bed and sat down, pulling out a notepad. “Mind if we talk for a minute?”
Liz sighed. “Police business?”
Juliet nodded. “I need to get your statement while it's still fresh in your mind.”
“Can I ask something first?” When Juliet nodded, she asked, “How is Lassiter?”
Juliet frowned. “He's still unconscious. The doctor said he has a moderate concussion and three cracked ribs. Right now, all we can do is wait for him to wake up.”
It didn't sound good and Juliet looked as worried as Liz felt. Unfortunately, there was nothing she could do to help this time. She sighed. “Where do you want me to start?”
Juliet thought for a moment. “When did Mayson first come into the coffee shop?”
“Around noon.” Liz recited everything she could remember about Mayson, what happened once Lassiter entered the shop and all the way through to when the police burst in. The only thing she left out was the conversation they had in the storage room about the party. She didn't think that was relevant to the case and until she talked to Lassiter again, she didn't want anyone to know about it.
Juliet listened to it all, making notes and asking the occasional question. When she finished, the detective shook her head. “I can't believe he pulled a stunt like that. What was he thinking?”
“I think he felt responsible for what happened because he was the one trying to find Mitchells,” Liz said. She had had a lot of time to think about everything while waiting for the doctor to show up. “He saved my life,” she added quietly.
“Which wouldn't have needed saving if you had gone out the back like Carlton asked you to,” Juliet pointed out with a disapproving frown.
“I didn't want him going after Mitchells without any help.” Liz shrugged and looked away. “It didn't exactly go as planned.”
“I'll say.” Juliet stood up and put her notepad away. “That's all I need for now. You'll need to come down to the station to give your official statement soon. I'll go find your doctor so you can get out of here.”
The doctor must have been waiting for Juliet to finish because they both returned within a couple of minutes. Liz got her prescription and Juliet helped her fill out the discharge papers (she could fight left handed but couldn't write very well). Once she was free to leave, she was unsure what to do next.
“What is that in your hand?” Juliet asked.
Liz looked down at the scrap of fabric. She had taken it out while waiting for the doctor to come back, finding it soothing to rub the smooth fabric. “Nothing.”
“May I?” Juliet asked. She examined it for a minute before handing it back. “You're the woman from the party.”
“Um, yeah,” Liz said, surprised Lassiter had said anything about it.
“I guess since you have that, Carlton figured it out.” Juliet smiled at her reassuringly. “I'm glad. He's been insufferable the last few days trying to find you.”
“Really?” Liz asked, unable to hide a smile.
Juliet nodded. “You really made an impression on him.”
Liz looked back down at the scrap, rubbing it slowly. “Would you mind if I waited here until Lassiter woke up? I want to make sure he's okay.”
Juliet gently put her hand on Liz's arm, causing her to look up. “Of course,” she said kindly. “There are a bunch of us already gathered in the waiting room. You can join us.”
“Thank you.” Liz could feel tears pricking her eyes and swallowed hard as she looked away again.
Juliet stepped back. “I'll give you a minute to yourself. You'll be able to find us easily once you’re ready.”
Liz nodded, waiting until Juliet left to wipe her eyes. She wasn't normally so emotional but today had definitely not been a normal day. Between being held hostage, finding her mystery man, getting into a life and death struggle and almost losing Lassiter when she had just found him. . .
Her breath hitched and she shook her head to clear it of the morbid thought. He was going to be fine; she had to believe that. She took a few deep breaths, centering herself like she had learned in her yoga classes. Once she felt calm again, she shoved the scrap in her pocket and left the room.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Lassiter slowly opened his eyes, wincing at the bright light. Boy, did this feel familiar. He must have made some kind of noise, because the light immediately dimmed. “Carlton?”
He turned his head, squinting to get the room into focus. O'Hara was sitting next to him and he appeared to be lying in a bed. Add in the steady beeping and the antiseptic smell and he had a pretty good idea of where he was. “Hospital?”
O'Hara nodded. “You passed out at the scene. That's what you get for running around with a concussion.” She reached over and pressed a button against the wall and he gave her a questioning look. “The doctor wanted to know when you woke up,” she explained.
“How long?”
O'Hara glanced at the clock. “About six hours.” She gave his hand a squeeze. “We were worried about you.”
“I'm fine,” he said, earning himself a snort. “In fact, as soon as I see the doctor, I'll be out of here.” He hated hospitals and didn't plan on sticking around any longer than he had to.
O'Hara raised an eyebrow. “We'll see about that.”
An older woman with blonde hair entered the room, followed by a nurse. “It's good to see you awake, detective. I'm Dr. Locklear and I've been treating you.”
“How soon can I leave?”
Dr. Locklear chuckled. “I was told that would be the first thing you would ask. First, let me examine you.” She checked his eyes and asked a few questions to determine his mental status. He winced when she checked the back of his head. “Stitches look good and no signs of infection.” She also checked his left side, causing a flare of pain.
“Broken ribs?” he asked through gritted teeth.
“Just cracked.” She made a note on his chart and handed it to the nurse. “I'll get you some more pain meds. We didn't want to give you too strong a dose until you woke up.”
“So a concussion and cracked ribs, is that it?” Lassiter asked. He could manage fine on his own if there wasn't anything else wrong with him.
“Along with numerous contusions and a black eye. We want you to stay overnight for observation.” Dr. Locklear held up a hand. “And before you argue, Chief Vick is waiting outside to ensure you stay.”
Lassiter groaned. Sign out AMA one time with a head injury and pass out at a crime scene and nobody trusts you anymore.
“Cheer up, detective. I believe you'll recover fine, if you give yourself the chance to rest.” She looked over at O'Hara. “I know everyone wants to see him, but let's keep it to two at a time at most and keep the visits short.”
“Yes, ma'am.”
“I'll be back to check up on you later,” Dr. Locklear said.
Once the doctor left, Lassiter turned to O'Hara. “How much trouble am I in?”
“On a scale of one to ten? About fifty.” She grinned at Lassiter's groan. “That's what you get for disobeying a direct order. On the bright side, we got Mitchells and he had the missing diamonds on him. Plus, Jack Mayson was wanted on two outstanding burglary charges and was Mitchells’ accomplice at the court house.”
“His name was really Jack?” Lassiter asked in surprise. O'Hara frowned in confusion. “Never mind.” The collars would help but he had no doubt he would still be held responsible for what happened. He could probably consider the enforced hospital stay as the first part of his punishment.
“Maybe it won't be too bad,” O'Hara said unconvincingly.
Lassiter sighed. “I should have caught him sooner. It's my fault this happened.”
O'Hara frowned. “Carlton, nobody is blaming you for not finding Mitchells. They're only blaming you for going after him against a direct order. We had the place surrounded; there was no way he was getting away.”
“I guess.” It was still a hit to his pride, being captured like that. He couldn't have just sat there and done nothing. At least he'd had the satisfaction of taking Mitchells down before the police arrived. Well, with some help. “How's Liz?”
“Sprained wrist and some bruises but she'll be fine,” O'Hara said.
Lassiter frowned. “She shouldn't have been there. I told her to leave out the back while I took care of Mitchells.” Another point at which he had failed.
“She didn't want you going in alone,” O'Hara said. “And really, taking on two guys with a concussion? You needed the backup.”
“You talked to her?” Lassiter asked sharply.
O'Hara nodded. “She's been waiting with the rest of us for you to wake up. She wanted to make sure you were all right.”
“She did?” Lassiter could feel a smile threatening to break out on his face. He cleared his throat, struggling to keep his expression neutral.
O'Hara grinned. “I can see why you've been obsessing about her for days. She's an interesting woman.”
“How did you know it was her?” Lassiter asked in surprise.
O'Hara winked. “I have my ways.” She patted Lassiter's hand and stood up. “I'll go get her. I think you'll both be happier being able to see for yourselves your both fine.”
Lassiter couldn't argue with that. No matter what everyone said, he needed to see her in order to truly believe she was all right. He glanced around the room, wishing he had a mirror or some kind of reflective surface to check his reflection. His hair always got messy when he slept and the doctor had said something about a black eye. He hoped he didn't look too bad, although that may get him some sympathy points.
There was a light knock at the door and Liz poked her head in. “Hey, mind if I come in?”
“Not at all.” Lassiter watched as she entered the room and shut the door, using the time to study her. He could see her arm was in a splint and she was moving a bit stiffly but there didn't appear to be any major injuries. He relaxed slightly, relieved she hadn't been badly hurt.
Liz took the chair O'Hara had recently vacated. “How are you feeling?”
“I've been better,” Lassiter admitted. He started reaching towards Liz's hand without thinking, stopping himself at the last second and hoping she didn't notice. “How about you?”
Liz slowly took Lassiter's hand, lips twitching in a small smile when he didn't pull away. “Sore and my wrist is going to make life difficult for the next few weeks.” She shrugged. “I've been worse. You don't learn medieval weaponry without getting a few injuries along the way. At least this is better than when I broke my collar bone.”
Lassiter nodded. He knew from his own experience from a mountain biking accident (thank you O'Hara). “I'm sorry.”
Liz's brow furrowed in confusion. “For what?”
Lassiter felt the guilt welling up inside him. “For you getting hurt, for you being held hostage. Mayson never would have grabbed you if I hadn't been there.”
“I don't blame you for what he did. You’re not responsible for his actions.” She looked down at their clasped hands, gently tracing his knuckles. His skin sparked at her light touch. “If I wasn't there, it would have been Mandy or one of the other girls grabbed. They might not have been as helpful fighting against Mayson.”
“You shouldn't have been part of that fight,” he said. “I should have made you leave.”
Liz smirked. “If you had tried, Mitchells would have known something was up before we even left the room. I wasn't going to leave you on your own against those two.”
Lassiter sighed. Liz was probably right but it didn't make him feel any less guilty.
Liz poked him gently on the right side of his chest. “Hey, stop blaming yourself. I'm capable of getting into plenty of trouble on my own.”
“I'd believe it,” he muttered. Liz chuckled, the sound helping to ease some of the tightness in his chest. “So, you work in a coffee shop?”
Liz nodded. “I also teach at UC Santa Barbara part time. Medieval history.”
“I'm more into the Civil War period myself,” Lassiter said.
“If you decide to branch out, you can sit in on one of my classes, Carlton.” She made a face. “It's so weird using your first name.”
Lassiter rolled his eyes. “I'm sorry not everyone can have a normal name like Elizabeth.”
Liz blushed. “Actually, my first name is Eliza.”
Lassiter snorted. “And you're complaining about my name?”
“Shut up, Carlton,” Liz said, though she was grinning.
They both lapsed into silence. It wasn't uncomfortable, exactly, but Lassiter knew there were things the two of them were avoiding saying to each other. Not that he was eager to be the first one to say anything. He thought back over the day and how Liz had come to his rescue when he was lying on the floor. “You should have gone for my gun,” he said blurted out, then mentally kicked himself. That's right, Carlton, critique the woman who saved your life. That will surely get her to go out with you.
“I don't know how to use one,” Liz said. “It seemed safer to jump him instead.”
“I could take you to a gun range and teach you, if you want,” Lassiter offered on impulse.
Liz raised an eyebrow. “Seems a strange location for a first date.”
“I - I didn’t mean - As an officer I have a duty to help the public,” Lassiter sputtered. Not that a date at a gun range sounded bad to him, but he knew most women didn't feel the same way. He clamped his mouth shut before he said anything else stupid.
“Oh.” Liz looked faintly disappointed.
Lassiter took a deep breath, ignoring the twinge in his side. He had faced down drug lords and murderers without breaking a sweat. Asking someone out shouldn't be this hard. “I would suggest a nice dinner for a first date. Maybe a movie.” It would be worth the price with Liz's company.
She smiled. “That sounds nice.”
Lassiter let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. “8 o’clock on Friday?”
“Seven would be better,” Liz said, smile widening.
“Seven it is,” Lassiter said, smiling as well.
The door opened and Spencer poked his head in. “Now that you two love birds are done asking each other out, can the rest of us come in?”
“Get out of here, Spencer!” Lassiter yelled, breath catching as his ribs throbbed painfully.
“All right, all right,” Spencer said. “Keep your shirt on. Well, hospital gown.”
Liz glanced at him worriedly. “I think you better leave, Shawn.”
Spencer glanced at him too and winced. “Sorry,” he said, closing the door.
Lassiter looked over at Liz once he caught his breath. “He has no sense of personal boundaries.”
Liz smiled. “I know. He stops by the coffee shop pretty often.” She looked at the door, then back at him, biting her lip. “I should go. There are people waiting to see you.”
“One thing first.” Tugging Liz down, he kissed her, putting as much energy into it while lying slightly breathless in a hospital bed. Her cheeks were bright red when she pulled away. “Now you can go.”
“Okay.” She turned back when she reached the door. “See you later, Carlton.”
Lassiter smiled, feeling pretty good for a man lying in a hospital bed with cracked ribs, a concussion, and a swarm of people about to descend on him. None of it mattered; he had a date with a beautiful woman to look forward to.
Only the epilogue left. See you all next week.
Chapter 6