This was inspired both by personal experience (I played the role of Shawn, I am ashamed to say. *blushy*) and a thread over in the Psychfic forum about making the characters human by having them have just plain bad days that lead to potentially OOC behavior.

I'll let y'all decide if it worked. :D

Disclaimer: I'd poke Lassie with a stick more often if I had my druthers. Being only a fangirl, and not the owners, however, means my druthers are not being had. More's the pity. :(

"She wants me to meet her parents, Gus."

"And?" Gus returned. "That isn't uncommon in relationships, Shawn. Especially when you've been dating her for almost nine months now."

"Yeah, but . . . Plus, she's been asking me about my plans for the future, if I've ever thought about looking for others like me and expanding the business—"

Lassiter had been trying to work at his desk, but had been forced to listen to this conversation for the last hour now—and yes, forced, because they were sitting right behind his desk in a couple of chairs they'd borrowed from officers out in the field right now—and he was pretty sure that if he had to listen to Spencer whine about his relationship problems for another hour, he was going to pull his service weapon and open fire.

That would be bad for his career, he was pretty sure.

Why the two of them couldn't have this conversation in their own office was beyond him.

"Look, Shawn, Abigail is not the kind of girl that wants to be in a dating relationship forever."

"I know, Gus, but I don't think I'm ready—or that I want anything more serious. We're having fun. Why ruin it?"

Something soft and squishy hit the back of Lassiter's head.

Okay, that was it.

He turned around.

"Sorry, Lassie," Shawn said almost absently as he bent down to retrieve the rubber frog he'd been tossing from hand to hand.

"Spencer," Lassiter said in as calm a voice as he could manage, "maybe you should consider the fact that while you may be having fun, she's not dating just to have fun. Most people date with the intent to, eventually, get married or something similar to that. If you're not looking for anything more serious, then perhaps you should tell her that and let her decide if she wants to stay. You're not being fair to her if you continue to lead her along just because you are having fun."

Shawn snorted and leaned back, tossing the frog up in the air.

"Yeah, because you would know about letting your significant other decide for herself if she wants to go or stay, Mr. Wouldn't-Sign-the-Divorce-Papers-Until-She-Practically-Tricked-You. If I'm looking for long-term relationship advice, you're probably not the person I'd go to, Lassie-face."

For a moment, Lassiter went deaf, and dumb, and blind.

Well, ish.

Red hazed his vision, and a roar filled his ears, and his tongue appeared to have suffered from some kind of very localized paralysis.

Then it passed.

He saw Shawn still tossing the frog, heard the squeak each time it was caught, and his tongue loosened, allowing him to utter quietly, "Get out."

Shawn stopped and looked at him.

"What?"

"Get the fuck out of here, Spencer, before I shoot you or do something else that will get me in trouble but that I won't necessarily regret."

Shawn frowned. "Lassie—"

"GET OUT!" he roared, shooting to his feet and jabbing a trembling hand toward the front of the station.

Everyone in the bullpen was frozen, eyes locked on the scene unfolding.

Shawn mimicked Lassiter's action, but not his speed as he stood.

"What the hell is your problem, Detective?" he asked as he pushed forward into Lassiter's personal space.

"My problem?" Lassiter repeated. "You want to know what my problem is?"

Gus' eyes flicked between the two of them, then he inched forward and put a hand on Shawn's shoulder.

"Maybe we should go, Shawn," he said quietly.

"No, Gus, I don't think we should. Lassiter was just about to—"

"Shawn," O'Hara's voice said sharply from over by her desk. Her heels clicked loudly in the near-silence of the room as she approached, stopping just far enough away to not crowd the already tense group, but close enough to be of assistance should it turn physical. "I think you need to go."

Shawn spared a glance for her, then sniffed, lip curling as his eyes returned to Lassiter's stone face. "Whatever. Come on, Gus."

He stalked out, Gus in tow sharing worried looks with O'Hara.

When the front door closed behind them, Lassiter let his eyes close as well. His hands were curled into fists that now trembled at his sides.

"Carlton—" O'Hara started to say.

"I'm taking some personal time, O'Hara," he interrupted. "I'll be back in one hour and we will go over the witness statements."

There was no question, but she replied anyway. "Yeah, okay." She looked like she wanted to say something else, but just shook her head and retreated to her desk.

Slowly the sounds of the station resumed as he counted off his breaths in his head, waiting for the mass of emotions roiling in his head to calm enough that he could unclench his hands.

He grabbed his jacket and left then, resolutely shutting out the world around himself as he climbed in his car and drove away from the station.

Review, plz&thx. Next chappie will be up sooner if I know you want it!