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Chapter Text

It was day six of the case when Shawn had finally ‘divined’ the answer. Which was a fancy way of saying that he and Gus had dug through the garbage of the downtown pharmacy until Shawn had spied a discarded ledger and Gus had been able to point out the billing errors for each transaction. Shawn made his call to Lassiter and the four of them regrouped at the office of one Stan McFurly. Shawn’s fingers went to his temple and the insurance scam that had led to murder was finally wrapped up.

“Medicare fraud? That’s messed up,” Gus had quipped as he and Shawn exchanged celebratory fist bumps while Juliet read out McFurly’s rights.

“Gus, you know what I could go for right now?”

“A McFlurry.” Gus stated simply.

Shawn’s hazel eyes widened in expressive and mock surprise, “Gus, buddy. I think the spirits are rubbing off on you.”

“They have not Shawn. You’ve been talking about McFlurries since you learned his name was McFurly.” Gus retorted with a glance at his wrist watch, “And I can’t, I still need to go home and pack.”

“Gus, Comic-Con isn’t even until the summer—“

“Stop playing Shawn. You know I’m doing a presentation on managing long term clients at the Pharmaceutical Healthcare Leaders, Executives, and Global Markets summit and that you would need a ride home if this took too long.”

“Right right. I forgot you’re going to be busy with PHLEGM. I know I normally ask for a keychain but I think we can skip that this time.”

Gus looked affronted at the acronym but Shawn could see how he was counting the letters out in his head before making a disappointed sound and moving the topic away from the conference.

“I’ll see you in four days, Shawn. And I expect all my drawer snacks to still be where I left them when I do, I’ve counted every Mike and every Ike.

“Gus, don’t be the kid at the birthday party who only talks to the adults.”

“I’m serious Shawn—“

“Yes, yes, ok. I won’t touch your snacks despite the fact that all of your locks are basically child’s play. Go, pack, I’ll get a ride back from Lassie and Jules.

Gus rolled his eyes but still gave Shawn a hug before he started to head back through the office door, thanking McNabb who lifted the crime scene tape to give him an easier way out. Shawn watched him go with a little grin, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet before looking over to where Head Detective Lassiter was speaking with Juliet.

“Lassie! Jules!” Shawn’s grin was broad, putting his hands on both their shoulders, “How’s about a lift for your favorite head psychic? Gus had to go early.”

Juliet’s eyes upturned with worry, “Is he ok?”

“Just some phlegm. He’ll hack it out but it’s a very invasive and private process. I’ve decided to give him the respect he deserves during this trying time.”

Juliet looked sweetly confused but Lassiter grimaced, “I’m surprised the two of you can even exist apart from one another.”

“We can because we’re always in each other’s hearts.” Shawn answered smoothly, “Now about that ride?”

Juliet gave him a look of apology, “Sorry Shawn, but we’re transporting the perp and you’re not allowed to ride in the back with them after last time.”

Lassiter furrowed his brow as if Juliet had just brought up a terrible memory for him, “O’Hara, take McFlury back with McNabb in a black and white. I’ll drop Spencer off, the Chief needs me to pick up some reports from City Hall.”

Now Juliet looked more concerned but Shawn smoothed it all over, “Don’t worry Jules. If he tries to kidnap me, I’ll send a text.”

“…you’re sure?” Juliet wasn’t asking Shawn as much as she was asking Lassiter.

“I’m sure, O’Hara.” Lassiter said with the same tight faced look that made it impossible to tell if he was actually happy or not. Juliet glanced between Shawn’s smile and Lassiter’s scowl before she shrugged, let him know she’d handle the paperwork, and called out to McNabb to get McFurly moved and transported. Shawn waved until Juliet disappeared through the same office door that Gus had long since walked through. Once the blonde was clear, his hand came behind Lassiter and gave him a smack on the ass.

“Do you really have reports to pick up at City Hall?”

Lassiter’s face relaxed into a soft smile, “Nope.”

“Devious Lassie. You are devious.”

The relationship was still new, born of building tension and blossoming one rainy night. It was new enough that they hadn’t even brought in their respective partners on the news, something that Shawn was still looking to rectify.

“So I’m thinking,” Shawn stated as he slid into the passenger’s seat of the crown Vic, “When Gus gets back, we take him and Jules out to dinner and give ‘em the good news.”

Lassiter’s hand gripped around the steering wheel, his body tense before he surprisingly relaxed at the idea, “I pick the restaurant.”

Grinning, Shawn nodded, “I’m sure Applebee’s can’t wait to see us.”

Lassiter shifted the car into drive and muttered something as he began to drive them from the crime scene, “I still don’t want this out at the station, Shawn. I can’t imagine the Chief will let us work as closely together if she knew and well…”

“Some of your colleagues aren’t as open minded?” Shawn finished lightly, “No problem, Las. I don’t want the Chief to break up the arguably better version of the Beatles.”

Lassiter let out a wolfish laugh and Shawn eyed the way the corner of his mouth stayed upturned in amusement, “I’m actually looking forward to looping in O’Hara and Guster.”

“Please don't say looping in like we’re adding them to an email chain.” Shawn begged, “But yes, I too am looking forward to showing them the majesty that is Shassie.”

“I’m kicking you out of the car.”

“What? No. You can’t tell me you haven’t thought about what our celebrity portmanteau name would be?”

“I can absolutely tell you that.” Lassiter made a turn, pulling the car in the direction of Shawn’s apartment. The psychic glanced out the window and frowned.

“I thought we were going to your place, especially after you complained that my mattress sounds like your ex when we really get going.” Shawn’s grin was wild. He could picture the look that had been on Lassiter’s face as his thrusts had set Shawn’s bed rocking and the noise the springs made sounded like the younger man was playing a joke on him. Shawn had smoothed it over by telling Lassie that he didn’t joke when someone was almost ten inches deep inside of him and that he hadn’t bothered purchasing a new box spring since 1999.

“We are,” Carlton told him, “But you’re grabbing a toothbrush and some spare clothes. I’m not listening to you complain about my wardrobe again.”

“Admit it, you thought it was hot when I surprised you wearing only one of your button ups.”

“You broke in,” Lassiter said as he pulled up next to Shawn’s motorcycle, “I could have shot you.”

Shawn’s smile flickered slightly and Carlton rolled his eyes and leaned across the seat to kiss him, “But yes, it was hot.”

They lingered against one another for a moment before Lassiter gripped the back of Shawn’s neck and gave it a tight but kind squeeze. His eyes shifting behind Shawn and his frame tensing, “Someone is by your door.”

“Oh, I bet that’s Steve. He gives me double coupons for the dumpling house. We can have a feast tonight!” Shawn scrambled out of the car and Lassiter watched him go, both amused that Shane knew one of the roaming advertisers and eager for them to get a move on back to his place for even more amusing things.

Shawn walked up the short path to his front door, “Steve, my man, I’m going to need to call in that favor and one of those free dumpling orders with purchase that I know you keep stashed up your…”

Shawn’s voice trailed off, eyes roaming up and down the figure that his mind had already alerted him to not being Steve. The man turned, pushing a hand through his luxurious head of hair and his grin both easy going and not quite reaching his eyes, “Hey Shawnie.”

Shawn’s smile fell, his posture tensing and his eyes narrowing. He had already spotted the envelope in the man’s hand with his name written across the front in a neat script, “Max.”

Max seemed thrilled to hear his name escaping past Shawn’s lips and he raised a hand up, causing Shawn to take a quick step back and right into Lassiter’s firm chest. The detective’s hands were up and on Spencer’s shoulder, his expression carefully neutral from behind his aviators, “There a problem here?”

Max’s eyes seemed to linger on Lassiter more than Shawn and he held out the envelope out for the psychic to grab. There was just the smallest flinch from the normally jovial younger man that brushed up against Carlton’s grip. Max held out the paper and kept his fake smile on, “No problem. Just an old friend back in town.”

He pressed the envelope against Shawn’s chest until his hands claimed it on his own. Max nodded happily and sidestepped around the two. Carlton turned to watch him go and Shawn let out the breath he didn’t realize he had been holding before almost desperately digging out his keys to unlock his front door. Carlton followed him wordlessly but as Shawn rushed around the small space without any quips or distractions, the older detective knew something was off. Still, he didn’t say anything until Shawn was back in front of him with a duffle bag filled with far more than he likely needed.

“Who was that?” Lassiter asked, remaining where he had been been the entire time turning Shawn’s frantic Supermarket Sweep run.

“Who?” Shawn tried to brush it off then he shifted the duffle on his shoulder, “An old classmate.”

Lassiter stared.

“An old friend.”

And stared.

“…old maid?”

“Shawn.”

Spencer pouted, to Carlton’s estimate, at least sixty percent of the time but the look that crossed his face was more of one of defeat rather than anything else, “An ex. He’s my ex and one I thought I had left behind in Texas. And no, I don’t want to talk about him. I want to order Chinese food, rent a movie, and have mind blowing sex with a man with the most impressive chest hair. And maybe do one of those things twice.”

Carlton didn’t look overly convinced. His mind raced through so many questions such as how Max had found Shawn and what he wanted. Still, he soothed himself by reminding himself that Shawn probably had those same questions. He took the duffel from Shawn, ignoring the way Spencer called him a gentleman as they left the apartment and headed further to the Santa Barbara outskirts where Carlton lived but not before picking up some Chinese food and renting Revenge of the Sith on DVD.

Carlton was pleased to discover what Shawn had chosen to do twice.

Chapter Text

Ten years ago — Austin, Texas.

Max had been three beers deep when the shift change happened. The gruff old timer who glared over the rim of his lasses at anyone who tried to order anything that didn’t have a twist top was getting tapped out by someone that Max had never seen in the dive bar before. He was young, early twenties by his guess, with great hair and a flannel that was unbuttoned enough to allow for peeks down his shirt when he leaned forward. He had a grin on his face that made Max perk back up when he slid over and asked if he was ready for another round.

“Sure, but only if I get your number too.”

Max ended up leaving that night after last call with a light wallet, a stomach full of beer, and the lips of that bartender on his neck. He had introduced himself as Shawn only a few moments before Max had bent him over in the back alley.

Over the next few weeks, they established an easy pattern. Max would show up thirty minutes or so before close and once the doors were locked up, Shawn would drop to his knees. He was effortless. Max learned that he was originally from California and had come from a strict upbringing. It tracked with how he was acting out. Taking risks and diving headfirst into things. Max helped him out with the risks by supplying Shawn with a steady supply of weed and cocaine. They had taken up spending the weekends getting high and having sex. It was a perfect set up as far as Max was concerned.

At least until Shawn started talking about going home…

Carlton woke up with Shawn still sprawled out over his chest. The famous Spencer hair up at all ends and disheveled. He was also, blissfully, quiet. Though Carlton had to admit that he enjoyed Shawn’s rants more than ever let out. The head detective ran his hand gently up and down the psychic’s bare back. Shawn stirred, a kiss pressing to Lassiter’s clavicle as his eyes fluttered open, “Mhm…morning Lassie.”

“Shawn,” Lassiter greeted, not making any effort to shift or move them, “Sleep okay?”

“I’m going to start calling you Hilton because this mattress? 4 stars, Lass. I’m seriously thinking about going tempura.”

“Tempurpedic.”

“I’ve heard it both ways.”

Carlton swatted Shawn on the ass and pressed a kiss to his temple, “Bacon and eggs for breakfast?”

But Shawn was already disappearing underneath the covers, Carlton barely registering the words, “I was thinking sausage, actually…”

Carlton groaned and dropped his head back to the pillow. Spencer certainly lived up to expectations when it came to how talented his mouth could be when it wasn’t trying to wheedle Carlton at work. The head detective slid his hand to find Shawn’s hair and gave it a grip, letting Shawn still set the pace as the thought of breakfast started fading from his mind. Carlton closed his eyes and felt Shawn’s hands gripping his thighs, thankful that the psychic was under the covers because Carlton knew he wouldn’t last if he got a full look at Shawn’s hazel eyes while his lips were wrapped around him, “Damn it…”

His phone started to ring and he glanced over to glare at the crisp ringtone that he had assigned to the Chief, “Shawn—S-Shawn…”

But Spencer wasn’t stopping, even when Lassiter tried to grip his hair tighter. The detective dropped his attempts and tried to think of a solid excuse for missing the Chief’s call. He didn’t come up with anything by the time Shawn was shimmying out of the bed in the nude, wearing a bit of Lassiter splashed across his tan skin. Lassiter watched him stroll into the bathroom as he sat up and rubbed a hand to his face. He picked up his phone and dialed the Chief back, listening as she ordered him into the station as soon as possible. He was flipping the phone closed and turning his middle to speak to Shawn when he spotted him, standing in the bathroom doorway with an incredible erection jutting up.

“One more for the road, Lassie?”

Carlton groaned but his frown couldn’t quite keep the smile off of his face. Slowly, he got up from the bed and walked over to Shawn and started to pull him towards the shower, “You get five minutes, Spencer.”

He didn’t leave the house for another twenty minutes.

The entire station was in an uproar when Lassiter stepped in wearing one of his charcoal suits and a bit of a scowl on his face. He could see the administration staff was running about, handing files to McNabb who was holding a large banker’s box. It was a good thing that Lassiter had flatly refused to bring Shawn in with him. Vick wasn’t a fan of his nonsense when the station was under fire and well, neither did Lassiter. He had told Shawn to stay home. Despite all the pleading and puppy dog eyes. Shawn had agreed, a little too readily for Lassiter’s liking but seeing the look on Vick’s face when she gestured for him to her office, she would have been kicking him out even if he had been with Lassister.

“I expected you twenty minutes ago, Detective Lassiter.” Her voice was already filled with exasperation.

Juliet was already seated in one of the chairs. Clearly she had been better at answering her phone. She looked over, giving him a little shrug as if letting him know that she wasn’t sure what was going on either. Carlton hated disappointing the Chief and he felt the need to try and explain himself,, “To be fair, it’s my only day off and—“

“I know, Detective. I know,” Vick sighed, “I’m sorry. The Mayor and city’s governing board have been on me all morning.”

“What happened?”

The chief took her chair and let out a deep sigh, “City Hall has been facing a number of cyber attacks.” She held up a hand to stall Carlton’s remark, “Yes, they should have brought us in sooner. Apparently they hired a consultant and were hoping to keep it contained, and supposedly it was for a moment. However, yesterday, someone broke into City Hall and locked out the entire computer system. Records, payments, everything. They’re working to be able to switch back to paper for the time being but obviously the hacker is still out there and there’s still a lot of work to do. I have McNabb pulling all records here for transfer over to the courthouse for cases this week to assist…”

“Yesterday?” O’Hara started and Lassiter felt his body tense, already knowing where she was going, “Carlton, you were at City Hall yesterday, right?”

The reddish, purple color that Carlton Lassiter turned was something for the ages. Both women stared at him for a moment while he tried his best to form words. Nothing seemed to be ready to come out. Vick’s eyebrow slowly rose up to an arch.

“Detective Lassiter? Did you notice anything?”

Carlton shook his head but thankfully the Chief’s phone rang. She eyed Lassiter as she picked up the handset to answer the call. She fell silent, a deep voice on the other end speaking in a hurried tone, “Yes, Mr. Mayor. I will have two of my best people waiting for him.”

She dropped the receiver back down with a click, “The mayor is sending the IT specialist they hired to speak to you both. He has some security footage he was able to pull from the server. Work with him. Get this done, am I understood?”

Carlton nodded but Juliet spoke again, pulling out her notebook and pen that she alway had on her, “What’s his name, Chief?”

“Maxwell Abbott.”

The chief dismissed them from her office and Lassiter held the door open for O’Hara as they stepped back out into the fray, “You ok, partner? You looked like you swallowed a bug in there.”
“Huh? Yeah, yeah, fine,” Lassiter said off-handedly, “Just…upset I didn’t notice something.”

She patted his arm and he felt a pang of guilt. He didn’t like to lie to O’Hara but they had a plan and Lassiter wanted to tell her with Shawn…McNabb walked by them and smiled, “Whew, I’m glad you two are here. It’s been a crazy morning…”

O’Hara offered to help him with the second banker’s box, letting Lassiter know she’d meet him back at their desk. Lassiter rubbed his face, pulling out his cellphone seeing a series of emoticons that the head detective couldn’t even begin to decipher. He sighed and stowed the phone, stepping down towards the bullpen.

“Detective Lassiter?”

He turned to the left and spotted the man who had been outside of Spencer’s apartment the night before. His coat was gone and he was wearing a pair of khakis with a polo. His blonde hair slicked back almost too casually and an easy smile on his face. He held out a hand to Lassiter, “I’m Max Abbott. Is there anywhere we can talk?”

Lassiter took his hand, gripping it with a bit more power than he probably should have. Max’s smile hardened but it didn’t leave his face. The two of them staring one another down until Juliet’s reappearance broke the tension between them, “Hi! Juliet O’Hara. Thanks for coming down. I have one of our rooms set up to review the footage.”

Max pulled his hand from Lassiter and swung it over to the blonde, “Great to meet you, Miss O’Hara.”

“Oh, Juliet, please,” O’Hara beckoned them to follow her down the hall and Lassiter waited for Max to step forward, refusing to have his back to the man for a reason that he knew wasn’t professional. A thought occurred to him and he lingered back, taking his phone out and sending Spencer a message.

‘Going to be late. Your ex is here.’ He paused, adding another text, ‘He’s working. Stay home. See you soon.’

He closed the phone once more, steadying himself before catching up with his partner. He had a job to do after all.

Chapter Text

Shawn had pulled on a pair of jeans and a soft cotton shirt as he snacked on the pieces of bacon he had cooked on Lassiter’s formerly spotless stove. Tempted to leave the pan and grease splatter in a protest at being left behind by the older man, Shawn managed to channel his inner Gus and actually cleaned up after himself. 

“Oh Lassie face,” Shawn said to no one as he rinsed the pan before adding it to the dishwasher, “I must really like you…or I don’t want to hear you complain when you get back…” 

Shawn also went to go and pick up his clothes that were strewn around the bedroom, spotting the bent envelope he had shoved into his pocket the previous day now peaking out. Dropping the pants that had contained the letter, Shawn took a few steps back before dropping down onto Lassiter’s bed. He recognized the neat script that had his name embossed on the front, flipping it over to see that it had been sealed with a piece of scotch tape. The psychic snorted in annoyance, “Can’t even be bothered to seal it with a kiss?” 

The temptation to throw the letter away coursed through him. He could do it easily. No one would ever know…but Shawn had never been good at ignoring things especially when those things were targeted to him. He ripped the side of the envelope and peeked in, seeing a few sheets of folded paper, a single key, and glossy photo prints. Rolling his eyes, Shawn unfolded the paper first to see the continuing of Max’s writing. He mentioned missing Shawn, regretting how things had ended, and that he had changed. Shawn scoffed and flipped over the first photograph. It was of himself at about twenty-three. His button up shirt was open and Max was hanging over him from behind, his hand suggestively low on Shawn’s stomach. Groaning because he recognized the blown out look on his face and there was just a smidge of white still lingering on his nose. Another photo, the same night but Max now had a hand on Shawn’s jaw. They were kissing but there was a red mark across Shawn’s cheek…

“Talk about a shitty trip down memory lane,” Shawn grumbled. He got up without going through the rest of the remaining photos but pocketing the key. Instead he bundled everything up and walked back to the kitchen, dropping it onto Lassiter’s granite countertop so he could find something to burn it in. He just remembered the fireplace Lassie had when his phone vibrated with a text. Lassie’s name flashed across and Shawn opened it and felt his heart sink. Max was there? A second text followed as if Lassiter had seen the wheels in Shawn’s mind turning from miles away. Lassiter wanted him to stay but now Shawn was starting to feel the antsy energy that tended to lead to shenanigans. He bounced up and down on the balls of his feet and decided that he would just do a quick little swing by the police station. He owed McNabb a snow cone anyway. Why not take care of it now? That’s right. He wasn’t the kind of man who would let the snow cone give and take to last a moment longer! 

He grabbed his jacket and threw it over his shoulders. Already moving  towards Lassie’s front door and pulling it open only to find three large men standing there. Shawn halted on the spot, eyes quickly taking in the new element. The men were in dark jeans and jackets, their faces covered in cotton ski masks. They didn’t have any logos or visible tattoos. Even their hair had been carefully tucked away. Each man had a couple of inches on Shawn and they definitely had a few more pounds of muscle on him. They forced their way in, Shawn’s hands going up slowly when he saw the glint of metal from the gun arcing towards him. Immediately he thought the men were there for Carlton Lassiter, who had more enemies than fish in the sea, but as the two split off to check the rest of the home, the main man spoke, “Shawn Spencer?” 

Shawn let out a weak chuckle and minutely shook his head, “Sorry, no. Burton Guster. Common mistake.” 

The gun was jammed into his neck and the pressure was an order not a suggestion for Shawn to start moving to his knees. He didn’t speak until the two men had come back from sweeping Carlton’s home, “It’s clear. He’s the only one.” 

“Publisher’s Clearing House has really upped their game,” Shawn quipped but the men ignored him. 

“Search him.” The first man ordered, sticking the gun back into the holster that was on his side. He took a step away as the other two approached Shawn. One grabbed his hands and twisted them behind his back. Shawn felt the familiar bite of zip ties into his wrists as his pockets were emptied. His brown, well worn wallet that Gus had given him for his eighteenth birthday, his phone, and the key. The man didn’t stop there, running his hands up and down Shawn’s legs and his sides. 

“Fellas, please, a little dinner first…maybe a nice bottle of wine–” 

Shawn’s face cracked to the side as the man who had searched him slapped him across the cheek. It stung, but it wouldn’t leave any lasting damage. The men were professionals. He dropped his hands lower, trying to pin the tail of the ziptie between his feet so he could tighten it more. The first man had taken over Shawn’s wallet and was pulling out his license, his Pinkberry rewards card, and a coupon for a free whale watching tour with purchase. He dropped the license onto the kitchen counter and pulled the letter and photos closer. He picked up the one with Shawn and Max, holding it out for the others. They didn’t speak another word. Shawn watched as they started to pack up his wallet before snagging the key and phone. His phone was powered off and it disappeared along with his wallet and the key. Shawn had a bad feeling and not the kind he got when his Jalapeño Popper Cinnamon Wings didn’t settle right.

“I can sense that you’re on some kind of clock,” Shawn tried engaging one last time, pulling his shoulders forward, “So I’m happy to stay back and clean up.”

“You’re coming with us.” 

Shawn snapped the zip ties with a loud pop, surging his form up to drive his shoulder up into the man that was in front of him and zagging quickly to the left to avoid the grab from the one who had been behind him. He got to the edge of the counter to where Lassie had his bowl of pistachios. He grabbed the rim and sent it sailing backwards, grinning when he heard a thud but not slowing down. Shawn grabbed the handle of the front door and clicked it open but continued to run back around to Carlton’s living room. Several books were on his coffee table and Shawn kicked them off–his goal being the sliding glass door that led out to the backyard. He pulled the door open and was about to take a step forward onto the deck when he was tackled from behind. They landed in a tangle of limbs, Shawn kicking and punching, knowing that getting caught was the last thing he wanted at that moment. The man swore and Shawn could see red hair now peeking out from under his ski mask. Channeling his inner eel, Shawn kept moving and didn’t stop until a bullet rang out and struck the dirt where his head had been moments before. He could see the first man with his gun back out, trained onto Shawn with such intensity that he had to think that the previous shot was a well timed warning. He stilled underneath Red, who reeled back and leveled a punch at Shawn’s neck. The psychic’s yelp turned hoarse and he rolled onto his side in pain. 

“Get him to the car. Lake is cleaning up.”

Gunman. Red. Lake. The three men who had come for Shawn with terrifying precision. Red grabbed Shawn by his hair and slammed his head down into the lawn, rendering every other thought he might have had to darkness. 

Max, as it turned out, was rather boring as far as Lassiter was concerned. He had played the security footage once, twice, and then an additional two more times for Juliet before she took the drive from him to make printouts of the hooded men that Max suspected were behind the cyber attack. 

“She’s nice,” Max said, zipping his briefcase back up. Lassiter didn’t reply to him, his arms crossed over his chest and his very best scowl in place. Max’s fingers drummed an off beat rhythm against the case. Lassiter knew the nervous energy that he saw so often in the interrogation room from perps or people with something to say. He could wait Max out and in turned out that he didn't have to wait long, “So…you and Shawn–”

Lassiter was on his feet and in Max’s space before he had finished his sentence. The chair that the head detective had been sitting in made a loud noise as it was sent backwards from his upward motion. The sudden movement caused the man to take a small step back in confusion, “...know each other?”

The head detective felt his jaw click in annoyance for the overreaction but he didn’t step away from the other man. Instead, he stared at the IT specialist before slowly answering, “We do. He consults for the department.” 

“Pretty protective over your consultants then?” Max replied smoothly and Carlton shot him a look. Yet Max was piecing something together that Carlton's reaction had confirmed for him. “Sorry, just…you have this silver fox quality that I know he goes weak in the knees for. But if you were going to his apartment, I imagine you were spending the night consulting with him.” 

Lassiter used every inch of his height to tower over the other man. His look darkened but something like a smile pulled at his lips and he leaned forward to Max, “Multiple times.”

Max looked a bit taken aback but his reply was cut off by Juliet’s return with the images of the possible suspects, “Great news, one of the stills shows a tattoo on the suspect’s hand and I think I recognize it from…”

She trailed off, seeing Max up against the wall and Lassiter in what had to be considered his personal space, “Am I missing something?” 

Max was the faster of the two, “Detective Lassiter was complimenting my aftershave. I need to head back to City Hall but you have my cell number if you need anything else.” 

Stepping neatly away from Carlton, he gave Juliet a smile and disappeared back out of the door. Juliet’s eyes followed him before her attention returned back to her partner, “Since when do you compliment anyone’s aftershave?” 

“Forget it, O’Hara,” Lassiter still felt on edge, “You said you recognized the tattoo?” 

Happy to discuss the case rather than the weird interaction with her partner, Juliet held up one of the glossy images that she had just printed off, “See? A bulldog with a diamond in its mouth. That’s the Goleta Guard Dogs symbol. They usually run petty level crimes though so this is a pretty big departure from their usual MO but I confirmed with gangs that they are still operating out of the billiards room on 9th.”

Lassiter nodded, “It’s a solid lead. Great work O’Hara.”

She smiled brightly,”Great enough that I get to drive?” 

“...no.” 

Chapter Text

Shawn groaned quietly, eyes flickering open but then closing. His head hurt, his arms felt like they were on fire but he was…cold? Demanding his eyes to open, Shawn saw that he was in some kind of industrial freezer. His arms were locked above his head with a thick chain that had been looped over a metal hook that Shawn didn’t want to think about was normally used for. Annoyingly, his feet barely touched the ground, meaning that most of his weight was held in his shoulders and arms, making it hard to get comfortable or even take deep breaths. 

Shawn tried to lift himself up but the hook was too deep for him to force the chain over the side. His body became exhausted after several attempts and he ended up on his tiptoes to try and ease the tension on his breathing. He decided to take stock of the freezer, looking for something he could use to boost himself up. Even if it couldn’t get off of the hook, an extra few inches would certainly be more comfortable. There were stacks of boxes off in the corner but they might as well have been miles away for the use they could be to him. 

He forced himself to still and take a deep breath. His dad’s voice in the back of his mind reminding him that still being alive meant that whoever took him wanted something from him. More opportunities would present themselves. He just had to keep his wits about him. But his wits were starting to worry when an hour passed and no one had come for him—not even to gloat. Shawn couldn’t help him and let out an almost feral yell. Another five minutes passed before the freezer door was pulled open. Two of the masked men that Shawn could now recognize as Red and Lake entered. 

“Hi,” Shawn started, “So, maybe this is on me but Booking.com promised me a room with a view. Now, I can forgive the lack of mint on my pillow but I am going to demand to speak to a supervisor over the amenities.” 

The two men looked at each other before Lake rolled up his mask and casually fished out a vape to take a long inhale from, “Wow, you really don’t shut up.” 

“I’ve been told that I keep conversations going.” Shawn retorted testily. 

Lake had several scars across his neck and going up his face, like someone had either thrown him through a window or someone had decided to try and cut his throat more than once. Lake smiled when he saw where Shawn’s eyes were lingering and blew out a cloud of smoke, “Boss says I can give you a matching set.” 

Shawn let out an uneasy laugh, “I don’t think I have the bone structure for it.” He wet his lips, realizing that despite freezing he was parched, “Also can I meet this boss? Because I know I have a couple of overdue DVDs from Blockbuster but I can’t imagine that the copy of the Starsky and Hutch reboot is worth all of this…” 

The door opened again and this time a man in a neatly pressed suit stepped in, “So, this is Mr. Shawn Spencer.” 

“Normally I’d bow in the presence of clearly the best JC Penny model of all time but I’m a little tied up at the moment.”

The man grinned, “Max said you had a smart mouth or was it that we could use that mouth?” The man seemed unbothered by Shawn, “Perhaps it was both.”

The threat was heavy in the air but it was Max’s name that was ringing in Shawn’s ears. 

Austin Texas, 9 years ago

Shawn was nursing a black eye and a headache that he needed a handful of pills to soothe. He washed them down with the half empty bottle of whiskey that was still on the nightstand. He avoided looking at himself in the mirror, not needing a reminder of the bruising that was both new and healing that dotted his chest. Max had been furious last night and, if Shawn was being honest with himself, his anger seemed to be the norm now. The shoves and strikes were becoming more frequent and leaving longer damage. 

Max had fancied himself a low level dealer. He had moved product through the bar but when Shawn had found out, he had put a stop to it—much to Max’s ire. Shawn didn’t care about buying for personal use but Max was pushing it and pushing Shawn. Their bedroom which had always had the odd coke line or joint was now littered with liquor bottles and bundles of cash from Max’s work. Forcing himself up from the bed, Shawn stumbled out to the living room where Max’s computer was humming loudly. He logged into his email and saw that there was a message from Gus. Shawn’s chest tightened and he clicked it open only to see a slow moving clipart of a turtle taking a birthday hat off with a message stating: let’s shell-ebrate. The message inside was wishing Shawn a happy birthday and letting him know that Gus was missing him and hoped he was well. Shawn wasn’t certain how long he ended up staring at that e-card or how often he repeated shell-ebrate in Gus’ unique vocal pitch but when he finally snapped himself back to the present, he logged out of his email and began to pack his bags. 

Lassiter and O’Hara marched into the billiards room with their badges out but guns holstered. Juliet had wisely advocated for a soft approach to keep the gang from spooking and running off. The men and women in the billiards room were all wearing leather vests with their club patch and name on it. Smoke was heavy in the air despite it being illegal to smoke indoors. All activity stopped when the detectives walked inside and Carlton instantly recognized several felons he had personally put away when he was on patrol. 

Juliet excused herself to the bartender who was leaning on a meaty elbow, looking down at her from over a big and bushy mustache, “Are you even old enough to drink, young lady?” 

“Good thing I’m not here for a drink then,” O’Hara replied with stern look. Instead she placed the photo still onto the bar top and addressed the entire gathering within, “Listen up, we are looking for a man with this tattoo. Now I can have all of you come down to the station…which considering how many of you are on probation, won’t be hard. But we are understaffed, so it’ll probably take hours to clear you all one by one.” 

Lassiter smirked, his eyes roaming the crowd from behind his sunglasses. Two men were in a heated whisper conversation near the back but they didn’t seem to be working toward the exit just yet. His attention was yanked back to his partner when she slammed her hand down onto the wooden bartop, “You have thirty seconds!” 

Beaming with pride at his partner, Lassister’s gruff voice added, “You heard her!” 

The bar started to move. Begrudgingly, bikers stepped up to look at the picture and moved back to their original stops quietly. The biggest of them all stomped up, grabbed up the picture and peered at it, “WHEELS!”

One of the men who had been whispering in the back jumped and slowly made his way forward. All the eyes of the bikers were on him as they parted like he was contagious with something. Lassiter noted the patch on his vest that indicated he was a low ranking member. He didn’t look at the cops and instead kept his focus on the bigger man, “Yes, Boss?”

“Is this you?” 

“Uhm,” But Wheels didn’t get a chance to answer as Lassiter spotted the ink. 

“Looks like it. Come on pal, we have some questions for you.” He snarled, snagging Wheels by his collar. None of the bikers moved until the lead man gave the nod and they parted. Lassiter could hear the leader muttering about rookies picking up side work. He tucked that information nugget away as they headed off to the car. 

When they got to the station, Wheels was handed off to an officer to get situated in an interrogation room while Lassiter checked his phone. No calls. No annoying messages. No Spencer bouncing around the station hoping to sweet talk his way into cases. Carlton hardly believed that Shawn had taken his ask to just stay home to heart which led to him lingering on the last text he had sent—the one about his ex…had Lassiter triggered something without realizing it? He had a nagging feeling. Something was sitting right. 

“You know,” Juliet handed him a cup of coffee, “I think I might swing by Shawn’s after work.” 

Burning his tongue by taking his sip too fast, Lassiter blurted out a sound like Juliet took to mean ‘why?’

“Well, Gus is out of town plus he didn’t reply to my good morning text,” She tossed a thumb over her shoulder, “And McNabb says he hasn’t been by all day. I’m guessing he’s moping so I was thinking—“ 

It was the push Carlton wanted. He handed back his coffee cup and looked Juliet square in the eyes, “Can you handle the questioning?” 

Lassiter never, never allowed Juliet that far from his usual orbit of control and her expression did not hide her surprise, “Sure, yes, of course…” Her eyes fell onto his phone that was still in his hand. She was putting pieces together and if he wasn’t on the verge of actually being worried, he’d be proud, “An emergency?” 

“…I don’t know yet. I’ll call you.” 

There was an almost knowing look in her eye before she turned and headed back down to holding. 

Carlton was in his vehicle and peeling out of the parking lot not even three minutes later. He kept telling himself that he was overreacting, that he would open the door and find Shawn watching tv in his boxers or some other nonsense. He took the stairs two at a time up to his front door and stuck his keys in the lock and opened his home up, “Spencer?” 

Silence. 

Lassiter felt the same prickle of worry at the back of his neck and pulled the gun from his holster. He went room by room but found… nothing. A pan was in the sink, washed. Shawn’s bag was still in the bedroom and the bed remained unmade. But no psychic detective, “Spencer?” 

His bathroom was clear, his living room empty. Shawn wasn’t home. He put his weapon away and scrubbed the back of his head in frustration. Spencer had probably gotten bored but not bored enough for the station and Lassiter was feeling foolish for even having the moment of panic that he did until his eyes fell onto the stack of books on his coffee table that were exactly how he had left them….but out of order. 

He moved towards the patio door, noticing that there was a slight gap, as if it hadn’t been shut completely with the pull that it usually needed. The prickle was back. Lassiter pulled the patio door open and looked out at his small yard with a narrowed stare. There was something off. He spotted it as he took another step forward, crouching down to part his usually well maintained law. A patch and a small hole…

“Hey! Long legs!” 

Carlton saw his next door neighbor on his patio frowning at him. The man was rotund with a plaid button up and little bucket hat that seemed to sit on top of his bushy eyebrows, “I’m busy Mr. Pinsky.”

“Busy turning the neighborhood into a shooting range again! You said you’d stop after we all signed that petition!” 

Carlton was at the fence in one long step, “You heard gunshots?”

“Just one. Scared my cat right outta my lap.” The older man said gruffly and Carlton could see his tuxedo glaring at him from the patio door. 

“And you didn’t call the police?” 

“Well you are the police!” The neighbor told him angrily, “Don’t make me call an emergency HOA meeting Lassiter!” 

Rolling his eyes, Carlton spotted the camera that was now posted on Pinsky’s roof, “Has that been on all day?”

“Yes,” The neighbor nodded, “And it is pointing at my garden so don’t you start trying to—“

“I want to see the footage.” 

Chapter Text

Shawn had been drifting in and out of a daze. The combination of the cold plus the effort it took for every breath was starting to wear him out. Twice someone had come in to check on him but he hadn’t bothered with neither a quip nor a remark. His arms had gone numb hours ago and he knew that he needed to get off of the hook if he wanted to avoid permanent damage. The door creaked open a third time and Shawn’s eyes fluttered and were about to close when he noted the shimmering blonde of Max’s hair. Eyes snapped back open and Shawn’s tongue came out to try and wet his chapped lips. There was the sound of something clicking and Shawn felt the hook move down towards the floor until his feet were able to settle and help alleviate the pain of supporting him from his arms. It still wasn’t enough or really, Shawn was too exhausted to move his binds over the long end of the hook. Still, Shawn took several deep breaths and tried to keep his body from shaking. 

“Shawn…” Max’s voice wasn’t apologetic but he didn’t sound amused either, “You shouldn’t have fought them.” 

Shawn gave a snort and rolled his eyes, “I’ll save that bit of advice in my file of things I’m never going to do which also includes Pilates and sing opera.” 

Max stepped up to him and reached up to take Shawn’s chin in his grip, “I almost forgot what a smart ass you are.”

“Well I never forgot what an ass you are,” Shawn’s face cracked to the side from the slap that followed. He kept his face still and blinked back the sting that now lingered on his cheek, “How long have you been in with the cartel?” 

“I knew you’d catch on,” Max complimented, “As clever as you are…” 

Shawn didn’t engage again. Instead he waited Max out, knowing that the man would speak before too long. His ex pulled out a water bottle and cracked it open, grabbing Shawn’s face again to tip the water into his pursed lips, “I’m sure you remember the coke? How you messed up my sales? That long.” 

The water trickled down Shawn’s chin as he coughed from the intrusion of liquid down his throat, “If you couldn’t find anywhere else to sell coke…you’re just a shit salesman.” 

He braced himself for another strike but it didn’t come. Max hadn’t stepped away but he looked thoughtful as he gently, almost too gently ran a hand through Shawn’s hair. Shawn tried to lean his head back and away but he couldn’t move enough to do so, “Oh, I think you’ll find that I’m capable of selling a lot when I need to.” 

Shawn’s eyes met his and then narrowed as Max continued, “When you left I, admittedly, went on a bit of a bender. Used or ruined my supply and ended up in debt. They didn’t kill me because I convinced them that my shitty ex had run off with my money and a few kilos.”

Shawn grimaced but it had been nine years since he had left Max…there was no way that his debt was still on going….

“I got clean and back into computers. I started working for them in a whole new capacity.”

“That’s nice buddy,” Shawn told him shortly, “But I’m not really interested in catching up.” 

“You should be,” Max said with his tone shifting towards annoyance, “Because you’re just hanging around after all.” 

“That is some low hanging fruit,” Shawn told him, “But considering your usual low hanging—“ 

The punch came directly into his stomach and Shawn was unable to even curl up to try and relieve the pain. He coughed as he swung from the hook, his sneakers dragging on the cool floor. Max’s hand was on his shoulder, giving him a painful squeeze, “Let me tell you something Shawnie. You are a bonus. I came in to access their system and the courthouse admins were talking about the psychic detective working out of the SBPD and one even had a newspaper clipping that your arrogant ass had signed.” 

“I would call my ass talented before arrogant,” Shawn wheezed, “Even stupendous.” 

Max ignored him and continued, “We were here for some names of witnesses but now…I get the chance to make you sorry for leaving me and figure out when you suddenly became psychic...” 

Carlton’s phone rang once as he left his neighbor’s house with more questions than answers. Without looking he had snatched it up and flipped it open, “Lassiter.”

It was Juliet on the line, she sounded breathless and excited but quiet like she had snuck off to have the call, “Everything ok?”

“O’Hara.” Lassiter paused to cool his temper. He still didn’t have definitive proof that something had happened to Spencer and biting her head off wasn’t going to help, “This had better—“

“You need to get back to the station, Carlton,” Juliet told him, “Wheels’ information…well, this might be bigger than we thought.” 

“Roger.” Lassiter moved back towards his car, “I’m on the way and O’Hara? I need to run a trace on Spencer’s phone.” 

She didn’t ask why but simply told him she’d have it by the time he got back to the office. Carlton closed the phone and started the car up, peeling out of his neighborhood with a squeal of tires and a bit of smoke. Juliet was waiting for him in the parking lot which told him that something was off. 

“What’s going on?” He asked, meeting her with only a few long steps. 

She beckoned him over, “Our new friend Wheels was taking on some freelance work. He got paid to place a fake modem which was connected to the City Hall system which caused the crash but that’s not the big part—“

Lassiter waited as Juliet opened the file she had carried out with her and held it for the head detective to take, “I haven’t looked at other cases since the system might still be compromised but I did a Bing search and found a couple of news articles talking about similar crimes. Those occurred back in Texas and Arizona, but the pattern fits. Government agencies being hacked but at the end of them, nothing seems off or missing. And guess whose name comes up as one of the foremost experts in government cyber security?” 

Lassiter felt the pit of his stomach starting to drop almost knowing before Juliet had said, “M. Abbott.” 

“And Spencer’s location?” 

O’Hara looked a little confused by the ask but she had already complied with his earlier request, “His phone is off so we can’t get a location, unfortunately but it does explain why he hasn’t answered me back. Gus is usually the one who has to make sure his phone is charged…”

“Right,” Lassiter pushed down the growing feeling of dread and looked back at his partner, “Can Wheels identify who hired him to make the drop?”

“No,” Juliet frowned, “He picked up the modem at the pier and the money was deposited electronically…but…”

Lassiter had the same thought and they spoke at the same time, “The dock cameras.” 

Lassiter’s lips turned to a thin line, “Ok, listen O’Hara, the drop had to have been made within an hour or so. Nothing lasts long just sitting by the pier. Get Wheels to narrow down the timeline then take Dobson and review the footage. The minute we can confirm Abbott’s location, we’ll bring him in.” 

“Ok, what are you going to do?” 

“I’m going to get eyes on Abbott.” Lassiter told her quietly, “There’s a chance he’s done what he’s needed to do and is planning on heading out. I’ll tail him until I hear from you.”

She nodded but Lassiter could see the question that was still lingering behind her eyes, “What?” 

“How does Shawn fit into this, Carlton?”  

Lassiter leveled a look at his partner but she didn’t bat an eye. He knew that if he told her to drop it that she would but he also knew that she was a capable and highly intelligent young woman…and his partner, “I can’t prove anything right now and don’t ask me how I know but Max Abbott is Shawn’s ex…the connection might not matter but…”

“It’s possible that Max might try and see Shawn. That’s why you wanted his location,” She nodded, not asking where or when Carlton got his information. Her gaze softened for a moment and she reached out as if to put a hand on his shoulder but then thought better of it, “Keep your phone on. I’ll keep in touch.” 

“You know,” Max’s voice seemed distant in Shawn’s ears, “I met your new fuck toy earlier. Is it really possible for someone to be eighty percent legs?” 

Shawn hummed but it took him longer than he wanted to admit to piece together that Max was talking about Carlton. Max had lifted the hook back up and Shawn had been back to struggling for each breath. It had made him loopy and exhausted, “Did you tell him I say hi?” 

Max scoffed, “He bared his teeth when I told him that you were mine first. He seems pretty wound tight, Shawn, you think he’d like to know how you used to snort coke before sucking my dick?” 

“At least it wasn’t off your dick—it wouldn’t even be long enough for a decent hig—“ Shawn cried out as Max grabbed him and twisted him to the side. His wrists cracked under the chains as his body was forced into a painful position. 

“Max.” The man with the suit was back. Max grunted and released Shawn, pushing back the mane of blond hair that had fallen in front of his eyes. 

“What do you need, Gabriel?” Max hissed out. Gabriel’s eyes went back to Shawn who was struggling to recover. Gabriel hit the button by the wall and lowered Shawn completely to the ground, allowing the psychic detective to curl up to try and check on his wrists, “I already handed the addresses over.” 

“The cops spoke to you?” Gabriel asked. Max’s eyes lifted and he nodded. 

“Yes, the mayor wanted me to provide SBPD updates. I already left the crumbs to our fall guy and kept my cover. By the time they get their heads on straight, we’ll be gone.” 

Shawn huffed, “You’re seriously…underestimating the SBPD…”

“He’s right,” Gabriel told them both pleasantly, “The biker was picked up already.” 

Max cursed but didn’t seem overly bothered, “Well, then you might be happy to learn that our guest here is currently screwing the SBPD’s head detective. I brought you repayment and a bargaining chip.” 

Gabriel laughed and Shawn wanted to pretend that he didn’t realize just how cold the sound was. Clapping his hands as if he had just witnessed the end to an opera, polished shoes came into Shawn’s view. Gabriel knelt down next to Shawn and grabbed his hair with a tight grip and pulled him upwards. “That does change things, doesn’t it?”

Shawn’s teeth had gritted together but he still gave a shit eating grin up at the man, “Hopefully one of those things is that tie because that is seriously ugly.” 

“Head detective Lassiter is personally responsible for several of my men being behind bars,” Gabriel stated, “Max, why did you withhold this treat from me?” 

“I just found out myself.” 

“We’ll have to make good use of this.”

Lassiter was back in his car when a text came through from an unknown number. He considered ignoring it, wanting to get down to City Hall as soon as possible but decided against the urge. At the red light, he flipped the phone open and saw an address across the screen. Another text followed and Carlton swore. 

The image was grainy but he could make out Spencer, sitting with a dark bruise across his cheek. Another text and image showed up, a gun pointed at Spencer. The image was followed by the simple instructions:

Come alone or he dies. 15 minutes. 

Lassiter hated that his instincts had ended up being right and hated even more that he was hours behind now. The car behind him honked, the light having turned green and Lassiter put his foot on the gas and spun out, heading to the address that was already burned into his memory. 

Chapter Text

The crown vic peeled into the parking lot of the old butcher shop that had closed last year. Lassiter remained in the car, looking around and spotting two parked cars in front of the warehouse looking building. He kept his gun in the shoulder holster but removed his ankle piece and put it along with his wallet in the glove compartment. He then slid a pocket knife into his sock and sent a text to O’Hara to come to his location if she didn’t get a text back in thirty minutes. He added the phone to the glove compartment, not wanting to carry too much on his person. When he stepped out of the car, he saw a red head and another man exit the front door. They were dressed in crisp suits and had no expression on their faces. Lassiter walked up to them and lifted his arms so they could pat him down. Just as he thought, they removed his weapon but when his ankle holster proved to be empty, they stopped, leaving his pocket knife secured. His arms were zip tied behind him and he was marched into the old butcher shop. 

There wasn’t much to the building, abandoned as it was. Old and rusted equipment that had been deemed too much of a handful to take. The lights were on, indicating that they were still on the city’s power. Three men stood under one of the lights and Lassiter recognized Max Abbott and Gabriel Barrow from one of the cartels down South, “I knew you were scum Abbott but I didn’t figure you for cartel scum.” 

“Detective Carlton Lassiter,” Gabriel purred out happily, “Quite the lanky thorn in my side.” 

“Should have taken the hint to stay south Barrow.” Lassiter spat back, as Gabriel waved his hand to the third man that had been waiting for orders. The man stepped away from the small group and Lassiter took the moment to scan for any traces of the psychic. Gabriel noted the way his eyes moved and stepped back into his line of sight. 

“You weren’t even part of my original plan here, Detective. It’s one thing to pay off, intimidate, or even kill a witness…quite another to pluck the head of an entire unit off of the street.”

Lassiter felt the wheels in Gabriel’s mind turning even as he spoke in his cool and casual tone. There had been a few cases that had to be dropped because the prosecution lost the witnesses but the cartel was fixing their cases but going after the police would only bring fury down on them…unless no one ever made the connection. Lassiter could have kicked himself for giving them even more leverage. It was a blow to his ego but he soothed himself by focusing on Shawn. He was there to keep the psychic alive, “Good to know. Where is Spencer?” 

“Not here.” Gabriel replied and Lassiter realized a second too late he was gauging his reaction. His eyebrows dropped and the concern he had allowed to cross his features went neutral. Gabriel’s smile widened and he looked to where Max stood, “You didn’t honestly think we’d be having you arrive where we’re keeping him? We moved him the moment we texted you. Though, no doubt you have some form of back up on the way.”

Lassiter tensed and from behind the red head kicked out his left knee. There was a pop with a wicked flash of pain and Lassiter dropped to the ground with a curse. His head swam with agony while the two goons scooped him up by his armpits. They started to move him. Over the thudding rush of blood pumping in his ears, he could hear Gabriel ordering his removal from the butcher shop. Lassiter didn’t try to fight it, mostly trying to assess the damage to his knee and if it could still support his weight if he got the opportunity to bolt. There was a small clatter as his pen dropped to the ground. It was ignored. Carted out to a waiting car, the group assembled in the van and began to drive off. A quick glance at Max’s wristwatch told Carlton that O’Hara would be there in ten or so minutes. 

Shawn’s removal from the freezer had been a step up for a bit. His temperature had returned to normal and his arms were now bound in front of him allowing him to breathe easier even if the pain still lingered across his shoulders. The room he had been left in was windowless and despite his best efforts, the door remained locked. He had pressed his ear to the cool steel, trying to get an idea of what was going on. Two different sets of footsteps and the sound of something dragging was all he could make out. It figured that Max ran with people who didn’t cheap out on their makeshift cells. Another set of footsteps joined and Shawn shuffled back from the door, getting to the middle of the room as it swung open with Lake standing there. 

“Do they teach you how to stand menacingly in doorways at goon school or did you have to just learn on the job?” Shawn quipped, half expecting a slap or punch for it. Lake motioned for him to stand up and he guided Shawn out of the room. They were in a furnished home, upscale but with no personal effects….staged and with a pile of brochures on the coffee table. A show house for a new community being built just outside the city. Max was seated on the leather couch and Shawn was shoved down next to him. Lake left them and Max watched him lumber off coolly. 

“How are you feeling Shawn?” 

“Please, all questions will need to go through my publicist—“

The slap that Shawn had expected earlier made its arrival across his cheek and he felt his lip cut against his teeth. Max’s hand was back in Shawn’s hair, pulling him forward, “I’ve been going overly easy on you, Shawn.”

“Your breakfast slams must suck…”

“But that ends now.” Max’s voice dropped the false honey tone and gained the simmering anger that Shawn had learned to be wary of so many years ago. He braced for a few more smacks but nothing came. Max had paused  to watch as Lake was dragging someone else into the living room. Shawn’s eyes widened and his lips parted to say something—anything at the sight of Detective Lassiter being dropped onto the couch on the other side of Max. Duct tape had been placed over his mouth, no doubt stemming the wave of insults he would have been hurling over with his usual charm. Lassiter’s arms were behind his back, making sitting look almost as uncomfortable as his knee. His left knee was swollen, a strange roundness in his slacks that were normally crisp lines. Shawn met his blue gaze and he could see that Lassiter was sizing up Shawn’s injuries. 

“Max,” Shawn’s tongue peeked out to wet his lips, a nervous habit, “I know we’ve had our problems and kidnapping me, Santa Barbara’s golden boy is a big deal but the head detective? You’re not going to get tickets for the policeman’s ball with this attitude.” 

Gabriel and the red headed man had reappeared. Gabriel looked chipper, patting Lassiter on the shoulder, “Look at this reunion. A cop and a thief.”

“I didn’t know you were a cop.” The words left Shawn’s mouth before he could help himself and Max slapped him again. Lassiter leaned forward but Red grabbed him by the shoulder to pull him back against the couch. Gabriel’s cold laugh echoed around them and he stepped over towards Shawn, grabbing his face and looking at the blood coming down his chin. 

“My men here have orders to render a pound of flesh for your transgressions,” His eyes flitted to Lassiter, “Then we’ll take it from there.” 

Shawn’s eyes rounded in panic and Gabriel smiled slowly, “Steve, you’re in charge. I’ll be back once we’ve wrapped up our other work.”

Gabriel left and the sound of a vehicle leaving the area followed. It left Shawn and Carlton with Max and Red, now known as Steve. Max waited another moment before moving. Lassiter shifted again but Max’s attention had returned to Shawn, “Let’s see…where to start.” 

He hauled Shawn to his feet, wrapping his hands around his neck and the psychic detective’s hands instinctively went to Max’s wrists but the handcuffs made it hard to break his grip. Max shifted his weight forward and slammed Shawn backwards onto his back, cracking the cheap coffee table into pieces. Shawn laid on the ground, a groan escaping him as his head swam. Dimly he could hear Lassie yelling from behind the tape but Red–no, Steve had wrapped his arms around his neck to keep him in line. The head detective wasn’t without a fight though. Shawn wanted to smile at him but Max was driving his foot into his side, causing him to yelp. Shawn curled in on himself and swore–the gloves were truly off now that Max had been given permission. Max’s foot kicked Shawn two more times before he halted, tossing his loose strings of hair back. 

“Fuck, that felt good…” 

Shawn lingered on the ground, knowing that more movement would just bring more ire in his direction. Max knelt down and placed his knee between Shawn’s shoulder blades, his eyes locked onto Lassiter, “You know he used to blow me daily? He’d beg for it even when he wasn’t high. I took a lot of time to train him right. You really should thank me, detective.” 

If looks could kill, Max would have been a pile of ash on the floor. Lassiter’s eyes had gone cold, something that Shawn had only seen once or twice in the couple of years they had known each other. Max grinned and flipped Shawn onto his back, ignoring the cry of pain from the younger man under him, “You think he’d want to see Shawnie? You think he’d want you after he sees what a whore you really are?” 

The shards of the coffee table were digging into his back as Shawn started to squirm. Max pushed his shirt up to reveal the faint line of his happy trail that disappeared into his jeans, “Max, don’t—“

Shawn hated how his voice sounded. The cuffs around his wrists clinked together as he pushed at Max’s wandering hands, a clear sign of desperation and fear. Lassiter’s yelling grew louder despite the tape. The pain in his back compounding as he tried to distance himself farther away from his ex. Max’s hand was at his belt buckle and Shawn’s struggle only increased. Max leaned down and whispered something in Shawn’s ear. Lassiter watched as Shawn stopped fighting altogether, his body going lax like he was giving up. Lassiter couldn’t fathom what Max had said to the psychic to get him to not only be quiet but stop moving. 

“Much better. Remember how easy it was when you just listened?”

Lassiter also stilled, rage filling every part of him. He had gone so still that Steve’s grip around his neck was relaxing. His mind was racing with a plan but he couldn’t move until the snap. 

His pocket knife that had made its way to his hand during the car ride, had finally sawed through the plastic of the zip tie. His arms freed, Lassiter swung the knife up and back into Steve’s arm. Steve howled and despite the pop in his knee, Lassiter rose up and sent his entire body flying at Max who had started to fondle the psychic. Shawn was caught in the tangle of limbs. Lassiter slammed his fist into Max’s face, causing a burst of red blood to flow. Shawn could hear Steve rushing to join and he lunged to grab at the man’s ankles. Curses and the sounds of fighting echoed. Lassiter took a crack to the jaw and Shawn managed to elbow Steve in the eye. Steve was trained but so was Lassiter and the detective managed to get Max down in a hold with his arm twisted behind him. Instinctively he went for his cuffs but remembered that everything was either taken or back in his car.

“Lassie.” Shawn’s voice was serious but quiet. Lassiter looked up. Steve had wrapped his legs around Shawn from behind, using his knees to keep his hands down. The knife that had been stabbed into his arm was now pressed into the side of Shawn’s neck. 

“Lassie…” Shawn groaned, “Shit.” 

Lassiter shook his head and pressed down harder on Max, the tape having been ripped off in the fight. His chest heaving from the exertion and Shawn had to admit, he had never looked hotter, “Spencer…” 

Shawn, annoyingly tried to bring his hands up to that classic pose he always pulled, “I’m sensing they won’t kill me just yet.” 

Steve finally spoke, “Don’t bet on it. Let him up, Lassiter or I’ll bleed him out here and now.” 

“Well, detective?” Max snarled on the floor, “What’s it going to be?” 

Lassiter could already see a trickle of blood coming out of the side of Spencer’s neck. He had already acted impulsively and shown his hand. He needed leverage and he needed it fast. His eyes locked onto Steve and he took a deep breath, “Let him go and I’ll stay. I won’t fight. I’m the better hostage. You know it.”

“Let’s not make it a competition!” Shawn called but Steve dug the knife in deeper. 

Lassiter very slowly lifted his hands from Max and Steve did the same from Shawn. Steve got up from the ground and moved to seize Lassiter, his voice directed to Max. “Stop fucking around.” 

Max grunted and picked up one of the bigger pieces of the coffee table and for a moment it looked like he was going towards Shawn but he pivoted on cracked Lassiter’s already damaged knee. The head detective went down and Shawn realized that no one was holding him down or even watching him. He got shakily to his feet. Max and Steve were both looking down at Lassiter who saw Shawn lingering and swore, “Spencer! LEAVE!”

Shawn’s eyes were wide as Steve stepped onto Lassiter’s knee and the older man bit his lip to keep himself from screaming. 

“I STILL HAVE YOUR MONEY!”

Max and Steve looked over at Shawn. Max’s face had taken on a dangerous look. He knew that his ex was lying but he couldn’t say anything without alerting Steve that Shawn had been his scapegoat for so many years and his lie had been emboldened in order to get his hands back on him, “What?” 

“When I dumped you, I took…so much money but I never spent it. I was scared you’d find me if I did. It’s here, in the city, and I mean…how great would it be if you could give your boss not only revenge but also a bonus? Bet he’d like that right? Maybe grant you a favor on the day of his daughter’s wedding? Maybe you want to star in a movie one day? We won’t need an actual horse head I bet…”

He had to look crazed. Standing there with blood coming down his neck, bruises across his face, neck, and wrists with his pants undone, “So, how about it…?”

Max left Lassiter’s side and took a couple of steps towards Shawn with a look of fury darkening his features, “I told you,” Max whispered, “To behave and I would have him spared…you fucked it up Shawn. You always do.”  

“So…either call out my lie,” Shawn whispered back, “Or explain why you’re willing to walk away from a cool couple thousand dollars.” 

Max’s anger was causing his face to purple, “And when we don’t get the money? I’ll make you watch as they take him apart, piece by piece and then I’ll put the bullet in his head myself.”

Shawn nodded.