This story probably makes no sense but I just got this image of Shawn shooting bullies with a potato gun and then I thought of Grumpy!Kid!Lassie and it kinda evolved from there. Oops.

Enjoy!

Carlton Lassiter was 10 years old.
He was a tough, serious, independent little boy. He refused to accept help from anyone, he was often grouchy, and he always stood up to the bullies. He was admired for that, but all the other children kept their distance. After all, he was a bit of a grouch, and he had no sense of humor.
But the bullies...
He may stand up to them, but he couldn't always win.
Sometimes, they caught him by surprise.

On one such day, he was venomously spitting insults and defiant curses as two goons pinned him down. Harry Townshend, the leader, sneered down at him. "Not so tough now, huh, Carly?"
Someone snorted, and a small, sarcastic voice scoffed from behind them.
"Wow. How long did it take to come up with that? You must be brighter then you look. Which isn't really saying much, you look really stupid."
Harry whirled around to see a nonchalant eight year old leaning against a nearby wall, eating a banana casually.
"Watch your mouth, Spencer." he growled.
'Spencer' made a weird face, than after a moment, shrugged. "That's really hard. I'd have to stick out my lip funny like this-" he demonstrated, "-and even then, I can only see a part of my lip, not my whole mouth. I suppose I could find a mirror, but with you so close it would probably break..." he gave a mock-thoughtful look.
Harry frowned, confused for a moment, before he realized Spencer was insulting him. Carlton just gaped. What was this kid doing? Was he trying to get himself killed?!
"Shut up, kid, and scram while you still can!" he threatened. The boy tilted his head.
"Why?"
Harry sputtered for a moment. "What do you-?! Screw it. Boys, get him!"
A few goons stalked towards Spencer menacingly.
He just rolled his eyes.
And to their shock, pulled something out from around the corner he was leaning on.
Brandishing it, he released the safety.
"What the-?!" began one, but were interrupted by a potato (a potato of all things!) catapulting into him, sending him flying.
The kid had... A potato gun.
He smirked. "I'm armed."
Harry gaped. Carlton gaped. The goons gaped.
The boy smirked. He cocked the gun, and aimed at Harry.
"Scram.. While you still can." he mocked.
Harry reddened. "I'll get you back for this, Spencer! You'll regret this!" he shouted angrily.
The kid shrugged. "Meh."
Harry signaled the goons to let Carlton go, and then scampered off to sulk.
The kid shot a potato after them, (relishing the distant "Ow!" *thud* "Damn it!") grinning widely.
Setting the potato launcher down carefully, he turned to Carlton. "You okay?"
Carlton gaped. "...Yeah. Thanks... i guess."
Spencer grinned. "No prob. Totally worth it. Did you see the looks on those guy's faces?! They were like, 'oh, no, potato!' then 'BAM!'" he grinned, imitating a potato launching into someone's chest.
Carlton smiled uncertainly. "Yeah... thanks. I gotta go. Thanks for your... potatoes."
The boy grinned. "Like I said. Those guys are jerks. And I've always wanted to defeat some bad guys with a potato gun." he struck a pose. "Captain Awesome, to the rescue! Fighting off the evils of Santa Barbara with his mighty potatoes! Feel the potato-ridden wrath!"
Carlton chuckled. Catching himself, he frowned. He never chuckled. Why was he chuckling?
Spencer grinned. "See ya' 'round." he said.
Carlton waved uncertainly, then the kid (and his potato gun) were gone. the only sign they had ever been there was a lone potato, innocently sitting in the otherwise barren alley.
Carlton chuckled, which grew into a small but slightly hysterical laugh. The simple absurdity of the situation was hilarious. And he hadn't laughed in a while, anyway.
He never saw the eight year old again.
But that was always one of Carlton's little quirks. Even years later, in the Academy, or the SBPD, the sight of a simple potato will make him smile.
He'll deny it. But it's true. No one dares ask why, but they all wonder.
And the story is only learned years later, when on a case.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

"Harry Townshend, suspect in the murder of his wife, Ellie Townshend." intoned Juliet.
As she continued to review their newest case, Lassie stared in incredulity.
It seems Harry was back, he thought, rolling his eyes.
Just Great.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

They were so near catching him, and thanks to Shawn, they had proven his guilt.
They had cornered him, but he had a gun.
"Put the gun down!" blared an officer through a megaphone.
To everyone's surprise, Shawn bustled up to the front, large duffel bag in hand. "Lemme take care of this." he grinned confidently.
To their bewilderment (and Lassie's shock) he pulled out a potato gun.
He grinned cheekily at Townshend.
"Remember this baby?" he asked, still grinning mischievously.
Townshend paled. "Spencer?!" he demanded.
Shawn grinned. He cocked the launcher.
"Do you remember the feeling of a potato launching into your gut at full speed?" he asked.
The officers were all dumbfounded by now. Lassie was literally gaping, eyes bulging and mouth open.
To their further shock, he dropped the gun. "Fine! Fine! Just not that... thing!"
Shawn grinned, then shot a potato into the air, whooping, as the others swarmed forward to arrest the guy.
(He may or may not have grinned larger when he heard a distant *wham!* "Ow! Where the hell-?!")
Lassie just stared.
"Spencer-?!"
Shawn slung the launcher over his shoulder, still grinning madly. "Yes, Lassie?"
Lassie closed his mouth. "...Thanks for the potatoes." he smirked.
Turning on one foot and walking briskly away, the other officers watched in amazement and shock as Shawn's jaw dropped.
"Ooooh!" he exclaimed. Gus frowned. "Shawn... Shawn, what was that?" Shawn just grinned. "Shawn?!"
Lassie was smiling when he got into his car.

Did you like it, or did it suck? Meh, it could be either, really.

But once again, it was to write, and that's good enough for me. :D