And Then There Were Slightly Fewer - Part 4
And Then There Were Slightly Fewer
Author: plainapple
Rating: PG -13 (with skippable NC-17 chapters)
Pairings: Shawn/Lassiter
Wordcount: Exactly 23,300
Warning: MUR-DER! and man love
Disclaimer: This is fan fiction, I make no claims to the copyright ownership of Psych or to its characters.
Chapters: 1, 2, 3 (porny), 4, 5, 6, 7
Summary: “Come on Lass,” said Shawn “The spooky old house, the rich old woman who just signed her will, the family members being picked off one by one… it’s straight out of, Gus, what am I thinking of?”
“Every clichéd mystery story ever written ever?” asked Gus.
Much to his displeasure, Lassiter hauled Shawn out of bed after just a few hours sleep. All of Shawn’s protests were ignored as Lassiter pushed him into the bathroom and instructed him to brush his teeth while he dug through Shawn’s bag and pulled out a clean t-shirt. There was something deeply disturbing about Lassiter laying out his clothes for him, but Shawn was too tired to wrap his head around what it was. He splashed a cold water on his face and grabbed his hairbrush before Lassie could attempt to brush his hair - he still had some dignity after all - and besides, there was no way Lassiter could get it to peak just-so in the middle, it had taken Shawn years to master it himself.
Gus was already dressed and waiting for them outside their door by the time Lassiter got Shawn out the room. The three of them shuffled in sleepy silence through the parking lot to the diner attached to the motel. In his semi-comatose state Shawn was operating on automatic, and he found himself memorizing the plates and makes of the cars in the lot, just in case. He had a brief moment of panic that he was becoming his father and tried to forget them, but of course it was too late. Damn Henry. Someday Shawn was going to lose his hair and his fashion sense, he just knew it. He wondered if Lassie knew the horrible future in store for him as the husband of Henry Spencer Jr. He could picture him and Lassie now, cranky old men sitting together on a bench bemoaning how the world had gone to hell and how kids these days were all criminals and miscreants. It would be just like Grumpy Old Men, if Jack Lemmon and Walter Matthau had spent their time making out with each other instead of fighting over Ann-Margret.
They pushed open the diner’s door, jangling the bell as they passed through the doorway, and plopped into a booth. Gus took the seat next to Shawn and it took all Shawn’s willpower to keep from using his shoulder as a cushy Gus stuffed pillow and trying to catch a quick nap. He might have done it, if it hadn’t been for Lassie sitting across from them. Lassiter was pretty tolerant, all things considered, but Shawn wasn’t sure if he’d be able to handle Shawn cuddling another guy four feet away from him, even if it was strictly platonic.
The waitress’ arrival perked Shawn up a little, he considered himself something of a connoisseur of service professionals, and he could tell from the moment he saw this one that she was triple mint. She had jet black hair cut into a rockabilly bob, blood red lipstick, and just the hint of blue eye shadow. Shawn suspected she was the type who served tables in a dive like this for the experience as much as for the money, and that ‘waitress’ was a character she put on while she wasn’t out living her real life. His suspicions were confirmed when she introduced herself as ‘Margie’ in an obviously fake thick southern accent.
Shawn smiled his special ‘reserved for the ladiez’ smile, “Well hi there Margie. My name is Shawn and these are my partners Theo Blunderbust and Douglas ‘Snap a Cap’ Johnson.”
“Your partners?” asked Margie.
“One business, one domestic - I’ll let you guess which is which.” Shawn winked at her.
Margie looked back and forth between Gus and Lassiter, “Well, I’d say either way you’re a lucky young man.”
“Yes Ma’am.” Shawn affirmed.
“Well aren’t you just the cutest thing?” she asked. Shawn beamed up at her. Yes, yes he was. She chuckled, “Have y’all decided on breakfast?”
“Yes,” said Shawn, “Doug here would like the blueberry short stack with a side of cantaloupe and Theo will take the Lil’ Miss Flapjack’s Strawberry Lover’s Kids Plate.”
“I’ll have the southwestern omelet and a bran muffin.” Lassiter corrected.
“Mmmhmm,” said Margie, jotting down their order, “And how ‘bout you sugah?” Sugah. Perfect. If Shawn was still in his ‘take-a-waitress-home-a-day phase’ he’d already be asking her when her shift ended.
Shawn squinted at the menu, “What can you tell me about the ‘Triple Tower Deluxe?’
Margie smiled widely, “Its three layers of fruit and whipped crème sandwiched between our extra thick buttermilk flapjacks and topped with homemade maple syrup.”
“I see.” said Shawn, “And would it be possible to get that on a waffle?”
“On a waffle? You mean, the whole thing…”
“Yes.” said Shawn, “On top of a waffle. Preferably with another layer of fruit and whipped crème in between. Diced pineapple if you have it.”
“I… guess we could do that.” said Margie.
“Perfect.” said Shawn.
“Coffee all around?” she asked.
“Please.” answered Lassiter. Marge nodded in affirmation and finished taking their order with a smart flourish of her pencil.
"Bye Margie." Shawn called as Margie headed off towards the kitchen.
"Shawn, you know we don't have more than an hour for breakfast, right?" asked Lassiter.
"So?" asked Shawn.
"So, there's no way you're going to be able to finish a, what did you call it, triple tower?"
"Oh my god," said Gus, "You did not just say that."
Lassiter cocked his head, "What?"
"No way?" asked Shawn, "How much are you willing to bet?"
"Here we go..." muttered Gus.
'Shawn, that wasn't a challenge." said Lassiter.
"Really?" asked Shawn, "Because it sounded like one to me."
"Never tell Shawn there's 'no way' he'll be able to do something," Gus told Lassiter, "He'll always try to prove you wrong by doing it, no matter how ridiculous it is. I can't believe you haven't learned that already."
"Huh," said Lassiter, "I guess it never came up. Does it work both ways?"
“What'd you mean?" asked Gus.
"If, say, I wanted Shawn to pick up his dirty clothes off the floor."
"Tell him there's no way he'll ever pick up his clothes." Gus confirmed.
"Hey!" said Shawn.
"Or if I wanted him to do the dishes?"
"There's no way you'll ever do the dishes." said Gus.
Lassiter grinned, "You know this has a lot of possibilities."
Gus nodded, "I've been exploiting it for years."
"I'm right here!" said Shawn.
"Thank you Guster, this is very helpful information."
Gus nodded, "My pleasure detective."
"I'm not okay with this." muttered Shawn.
"Really?" asked Lassiter, "Because I was just about to say the three of us should get together more often."
"I think that's a great idea." said Gus.
Shawn craned his neck, looking around the room, "Where is he?"
"Who?" asked Lassiter.
"Rod Serling, he's gotta be here somewhere."
Gus stood, "Tell you what Shawn, I'll go check the bathrooms."
Lassiter chucked and smiled at Gus as he walked away from the table.
"Lassie?"
"Hmmm?" Lassiter asked, still watching Gus walk away.
"You know you can never, ever go there, right?"
"Go where?" asked Lassiter, turning towards Shawn.
"I'm serious." said Shawn, "Not if you were trapped on an island. Not if someone paid you ten million dollars. Not if there was a cataclysmic nuclear event and you and Gus were the last two people on earth."
Lassiter snorted.
"Just promise me,” Shawn continued, “No matter what. If something happens with us or... just, not Gus."
"Shawnie." Lassiter reached across the table and took Shawn's hand in his, "I'm not interested in Guster."
"I know..." said Shawn, "But..."
"I promise."
Shawn grinned, "Good. Me too!"
"As much as I appreciate that," said Lassiter, "I don't think I have anything to worry about."
Shawn lowered his eyelids, "Because you've ruined me for other men?" he asked suggestively.
Lassiter laughed, "No, because if there were any possibility for you and Guster it would have happened years ago. I've never seen any two people as close as the two of you are and he’s a handsome man. I'm just lucky he's straight."
"You got that right."
Lassiter released Shawn's hand and gave it a little slap.
"Ouch." said Shawn, "You don't think I took enough abuse last night?"
"Oh, I don't think you'll ever get enough."
Shawn grinned widely, "Right again."
There was a sudden, subtle shift in Lassiter's eyes. He looked at Shawn with an intensity that made Shawn’s blood do an abrupt reversal of flow. He wiggled a little in his seat, and willed himself to think about Henry gutting fish, or something else equally revolting. When Lassiter noticed Shawn's reaction a smirk played at the edge of his lips.
'Arrogant bastard." Shawn muttered at him.
"How's your jaw feeling this morning?"
Shawn gave a short laugh that was suspiciously close to a groan and looked up at the ceiling, letting out a slow breath. Gus returned to the table before he had a chance to answer, and Margie reappeared shortly after with the coffee. Lassiter took his time doctoring his cup, glancing up at Shawn while he ripped open the sugar packets and again when he poured in the crème. Gus pretended not to notice.
Eventually Lassiter got up to find himself a newspaper and Shawn and Gus amused themselves by battling straw wrapper worms until breakfast arrived. Shawn’s eyes lit up as he saw the triple tower approaching. It was a masterpiece of pancakery, and it was about to be owned.
Part 5