The Itsy-Bitsy Murder
Title: The Itsy-Bitsy Murder
Author: plainapple
Rating: PG-13
Pairings: Shawn/Lassiter
Warning: Nudity. Language. Cruelty to arachnids.
Disclaimer: This is fan fiction, I make no claims to the copyright ownership of Psych or to its characters.
Summary: In response to prompt from mystic7194, "Lassie v. Spider" posted on Psych Prompts
In the four months since they’d been living together Carlton Lassiter had come home a to a lot of things; a washing machine overflowing with soap suds, a flaming toaster in the driveway, a living room in which all the furniture had been replaced by one giant beanbag chair, and a high school drama club’s rehearsal of an original musical based on ‘Weird Science’. Given that, a wet and naked Shawn Spencer standing on a chair in the middle of the dining room wasn’t so bad, even if he was dripping onto the upholstered seat and the hardwood floor beneath it. Still, it was the kind of thing that begged an explanation.
“Shawn?”
“Oh, hey Lassie.” Shawn answered, “How was your day?”
“Shawn?” Lassiter asked again.
“Yeah?”
Lassiter crossed his arms and arched an eyebrow.
Shawn cleared his throat, “Right, well… it’s funny Lassie…”
“I’m listening.”
“You see, it’s really not a big deal…” said Shawn, “And uh, it’s the kind of thing that I would usually handle myself. I was just about to, in fact, but since you’re here…”
“Just tell me.”
“Okay.” said Shawn, “Here’s the thing… theresaspiderinthebathtub.”
Lassiter frowned, “I’m sorry… there’s a what?”
“Spider.” said Shawn, “In the bathtub. There’s a spider in the bathtub. Hey! Hey! It’s not funny!”
Lassiter wiped away the tears forming at the corner of his eyes as he forced himself to stop laughing, “You’re right, you’re right Shawn.” he said, “This is serious. Maybe we should call animal control.”
“Lassie…” Shawn whined, “You didn’t see it! It’s black and hairy and huge and I was already in the shower before I saw it and it looked at me!”
“It looked at you?”
“I think it might be a black widow.” said Shawn.
Lassiter shook his head, “Shawn…”
“Lassie please!” said Shawn.
“Okay, okay.” Lassiter picked up one of Shawn’s magazines (the June 1989 issue of Dynamite), from the dining room table and headed down the hall. He heard the sound of the water running before he reached the bathroom. He sighed, shrugged off his jacket and pushed up his sleeve before reaching past the plastic curtain to turn off the shower. He rolled the magazine in hand as he glanced quickly around the tub.
“Shawn,” he called, “I don’t see it… maybe it washed down the drain?”
“EEEEEEEE!”
Lassiter sighed and took his time getting back to the dining room, “Where is it?” he asked.
Shawn pointed at the window, “It’s on the curtains Lassie! It followed me in here and now it’s going to climb up them and crawl across the ceiling and jump on me!”
“It’s not going to jump on you.” grumbled Lassiter.
“It will Lassie, it will.” Shawn’s voice went low, “I’ve ‘seen’ it.”
Lassiter smirked, “Last time you told me you couldn’t see the future.”
“I’m not seeing the future; I’m reading its thoughts. It’s vicious Lassie, a killer, and all it can think about is sinking its fangs into my sweet ass.”
“Well I can’t blame it for that.” answered Lassiter. He had to watch the curtains for a moment before he spotted Shawn’s ‘killer’. It was a medium sized spider, at best. Definitely not a black widow, or anything else Lassiter recognized as dangerous.
“Just kill it already!” Shawn insisted.
“Well, I don’t want to get spider guts on the curtain,” said Lassiter, “Hang on…” He took hold of the curtain just above the spider and shook it.
“What the hell are you doing!” exclaimed Shawn, “Smash it!”
Lassiter shook harder and the spider dropped to the floor, “There.” He said, “Now I can… huh… did you see where it went?”
“You lost it!?!” Shawn exclaimed.
“Just give me a moment…”
“Ehhhh! It could be anywhere!” Shawn bounced nervously on his feet.
“Just wait Shawn, I’ll find it. It’s just a little hard to spot…”
“Whad’you mean ‘hard to spot’? It’s a giant!”
“Well you could help me look.”
“No way,” said Shawn, “I made eye contact with it once already. Never again.”
“Fine, but if it sneaks up on you don’t blame me.”
“Sneaks up…!” Shawn began looking frantically around him. When he spoke again, his voice was barely a whisper, “Lassie…”
“What?”
Shawn clenched his teeth, “It’s on the chair.”
“Which chair?”
“My chair, Lassie. It’s on my chair. It’s crawling up the leg!”
“Okay,” said Lassiter, moving towards Shawn and raising the magazine above his head, “Hold still.”
Lassiter swung… and missed. The spider continued to scamper up the chair leg towards Shawn.
“Damn,” Lassiter said, “It’s fast.”
He tried again. Miss. Who the hell did that spider think it was?
“Lassie…” Shawn said, his voice trembling.
“Okay,” said Lassiter, “This time.”
Miss.
“Oh you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me!” yelled Lassiter.
“Lassie,” cried Shawn, “It’s almost here… Lassie…! Lassie! Lassie! Lassielassielassie!”
Lassiter saw Shawn’s intentions just before he moved, “Shawn, no!”
Shawn launched himself into the air. Lassiter barely had time to raise his hands before Shawn made contact with a resounding ‘smack’. Despite being taken off guard, Lassiter might have been able to catch Shawn securely if the hardwood under his feet hadn’t been wet from where the water dripping off Shawn had formed a puddle. As it was, he slipped backwards and crashed to the floor, Shawn in his arms. Shawn’s legs wrapped around Lassiter’s waist helped to break his impact, but only just barely. He groaned loudly into Shawn’s chest, which was pressed against his face, before doing a quick check of his faculties. He wiggled his toes, rotated his ankles, and bent his elbows. Nothing broken, nothing strained. Small miracle.
“Lassie?” Shawn’s voice sounded from above him.
“Get off.” Lassiter growled.
“Are you okay?”
“Get. Off.”
“Did we get it?”
“Yeah Shawn,” answered Lassiter, voice thick with sarcasm, “We got it.”
Shawn squealed and scrambled forward. Lassiter was reintroduced, both visually and tangibly, to the most intimate parts of Shawn’s anatomy as he crawled over Lassiter’s face. Shawn pushed Lassiter up to a sitting position and cowered behind him. Lassiter took in a long breath.
“Spencer…”
“There it is!” Shawn exclaimed, pointing to a spot on the floor.
“Spencer, I am so far gone from caring right now.”
Shawn ignored him and gripped Lassiter by the shoulders, shaking him back and forth, “Get it! Lassie get it! Kill it! Kill it! Kill it!”
Lassiter winced as he heard his back crack. He was too old for this bullshit. Shawn’s voice chanting in his ear, the pain in his hips, the wet spot on his shirt from where Shawn had landed on him, the fingers digging into his shoulders, the sight of that smug bastard little spider crawling across his floor - It was all too much. Lassiter felt his blood pressure rising. His jaw was clenched so tightly shut it hurt. He needed relief, fast, so he did what he always did when he was stressed. He drew his weapon, took aim and fired.
Shawn was suddenly still and quiet behind him. Lassiter stared dumbly at the smoking hole he’d created. All that was left to be seen of the spider was one twitching leg.
“Holy…” Shawn muttered behind him.
Lassiter swallowed. In the greater scheme of things, he had probably gone too far.
“Lassie…” said Shawn, “You just…”
“I know.” said Lassiter.
“And you…”
“I know.”
“Right in the…”
“I know!” Lassiter snapped. He holstered his gun.
More silence. And then…
“You.” said Shawn, “Are my hero.”
Lassiter snorted. Shawn wrapped his arms around Lassiter’s chest and pressed his lips against his ear.
“I mean it.” said Shawn, “That was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”
“I just shot a bullet into our dining room floor.” said Lassiter.
“I know.” purred Shawn, “And it was so, so hot.”
“Be serious,” said Lassiter, “Do you know what it’s going to cost to get that fixed?”
Shawn crawled around Lassiter and wiggled himself into his lap, “Never wanna get that fixed,” murmured Shawn, “Wanna look at it and remember my spider slayer.”
Lassiter was about to answer that they were in no uncertain terms going to live with a bullet hole in their floor, but before he could Shawn was all over him, his lips pressing against his mouth and his hands pushing against his chest until Lassiter was flat on his back again, looking up at Shawn.
“Hero.” said Shawn, “Savior. Knight in shining cotton-polly blend.”
Lassiter rolled his eyes.
“Oh come on,” said Shawn, stroking a hand on Lassiter’s cheek, “It’s not so bad, don’t you know the hero always gets a reward for saving the damsel in distress?”
A small smile played at the corners of Lassiter’s mouth, “You’re no damsel.”
Shawn grinned, “Even better.”
Lassiter abandoned himself to Shawn’s efforts to remind him why he put up with him. He sighed as Shawn undid the buttons of his shirt, blissfully unaware that he was being watched by eight tiny eyes. The eight tiny eyes of a seven legged spider hell-bent on revenge