This was a new sight. Thought he'd seen it all with regards to the faker, Lassiter was stuck trying to find a response to the visual presented by Spencer and his ever present partner. Gus was walking ahead of his friend, speaking nonstop though they were still too far for any of the words to be heard. Shawn, following immediately behind, had his left hand on Guster's shoulder.
Conditioning had made their appearance at a crime scene unexpected. Spencer's infirmity and resultant mood spiral had made this little cameo a novelty. Weeks since he'd seen either one of them. Closer now, Lassiter could hear the rapidly spoken instructions guiding Spencer over the wet rocky path.
A few missteps, quite a few actually, but the grip on Guster held tight and kept him from a fall. The circle of cops, Lassiter noticed, had all turned from study of the scene to staring at the two approaching men. Irritated himself to be caught out in a lack of focus, Lassiter griped at the group to get back to work and be snappy. Then, leaving them behind, he walked towards the duo to offer a personal greeting.
“
What the hell are you two clowns doing here?”
Spencer, of course, grinned widely. “Lassie! Gus, can't you just taste the love in the air? Told you he'd want us here!”
Guster, smart enough to appear nervous, frowned in response. “Trust me, Shawn, he does not want us here.”
Shawn snorted. “Gus, don't be Shia LaBouf's left hand. Of course Lassie wants us here! I can feel his need radiating off him like microwaves. And suddenly I want a Hot Pocket.”
Lassiter could feel the stupid saturating past his hairline along with moisture from the light rain. Knew he should have used a more potent hair product that morning. Another few minutes of this and he'd be commandeering the foil wrappers from Officer Nick's Reese's stash to make a protective hat.
“
Fine, you go get a Hot Pocket. Meanwhile I've got a body that needs my attention.”
He could still hear them as he stalked away.
“
Oh, is it Jessica Biel? Gus, is it Jessica Biel?”
0o0o0
Not much of a dressing down. Lassiter was off his game or coming down with a serious case of COPD if his attempt to run them off hadn't even included threats.
“
Dude, I think he was smiling when he left.”
“
Really?” Proving habit stronger than circumstance, Shawn tried to peer around his arm before Gus, suffering from the same malady, slapped him down.
Not one to abide a sting to his pride or flesh, Shawn whapped back, instigating a minor scuffle with neither one coming out the winner. The spat was broken up by a roaring “CUT IT!” from a certain Head Detective.
“
Quick, tell me everything you see.”
Do what? That bullet must have taken more than sight if Shawn thought his best bud ready and willing to caress icky, bloated corpse with his innocent eyes. Icky, bloated, and naked corpse no less.
Aptitude for mind reading occasionally scary in its accuracy, Shawn nudged him with a punch to the lower back. “Come on! Man up and get closer!”
Gus twisted away from those pummeling knuckles and did his best not to make a fist. “You man up! How about you go over there instead!”
“
YOU ARE READING
Paint it Black
Fanfiction"I want you to imagine a bullet coming from that gun, penetrating your skin, and lodging in your brain. You know how easy that would be for me?" But Shawn doesn't have to imagine it... because he's about to experience it.
