Lassiter sat on the edge of his bed and stared at his phone. He could hear Derek watching Hawaii Five-O in the livingroom. He reached out and pushed the door closed with his foot, then looked at his phone again and began dialing Shawn's number. Unlike the previous times, he let it actually ring.

Fourth time's the charm.

Shawn picked up right away.

"Hello?"

"Hi Shawn. It's me. Carlton."

God, did you actually have to tell him who's calling? That was stupid.

"Calling to tell me off again?"

Okay, so he's still holding a grudge then.

"I'm calling to apologize."

"Will this apology explain why you and Gus have been following me?"

"Gus thought you were dating Derek."

Never mind what I thought you were doing with Derek.

"See!" Shawn said, raising his voice, "This is what comes when you misuse the pinky swear. I have to lie to my best friend and then he follows me around town, jumping to conclusions."

"Well I absolve you of it. The pinky swear, I mean. You can tell Gus."

"Tell him what exactly? That we had sex for three weeks and then you dumped me? Even Kim Basinger got nine and a half."

"I…I…I…" Lassiter felt bewildered for a moment. "I didn't dump you."

"Really? 'Cause it sure seems like it, what with you telling me off every time I call. That kind of verbal smackdown isn't cool." He paused. "Unless it's part of a prearranged scenario involving you dressed in a leather cop uniform."

"Give me a break," Lassiter said defensively. "I thought you slept with my brother. I was angry."

We'll go with angry. It sounds better than hurt, betrayed or rejected.

"Let's leave Nell Carter and her spunky wisdom aside for the moment. Instead, riddle me this. Why didn't you introduce me to your brother when we were at the station?"

"That's not relevant."

Why did every conversation have to work its way back to Derek?

"I need to know. It's a dealbreaker. Spill."

"Okay. Fine." Lassiter checked to make sure the bedroom door was securely shut. "I didn't introduce you to Derek because I like you."

"No comprendez, Lassitero. Try making up an excuse that makes sense."

Lassiter leaned forward and covered his eyes with his hand. "I was afraid he'd steal you."

Shawn was silent on the other end. Finally he said, "What, am I like your lunch money here?"

"It's what Derek does. Or did. All through high school. I'd make a friend and bring them home and then they'd meet Derek." Lassiter picked absently at the bedspread. "The next thing I know they're calling to talk to him and they're going places without me. He's a friend stealer. And I didn't want him to get you too."

"Fair enough. I'm ready to accept my apology now, and any apology presents that might accompany it."

Apology presents?

"Well, I noticed that they're showing High Noon at the rep cinema this weekend. I'd like to go, and I was hoping you'd go. With me." He cleared his throat. "And maybe we could go out and grab dinner beforehand."

There. I did it. I asked Shawn on a date.

"Are you saying you want to take me to an intimate restaurant, then to a suggestive movie?" Shawn asked. Lassiter could hear his smile through the phone.

"High Noon isn't suggestive. It's a western with Gary Cooper and Grace Kelly."

"Still, let's do it. Although if I go all Olivia Newton John on you afterward you have only yourself to blame."

"Great. I'll pick you up at six?"

"Sounds good. Wear your holster. Ever since I saw The Dark Knight I've had an irrational fear of being shot as I exit a movie theatre. I was getting over it but then I watched Public Enemies and it came back again."

"Not a problem."

As if I'd consider leaving the house without a gun.

Lassiter ended the call and stood staring at his phone for a few moments. He was going to go on a date with a man. More than the fantasies he'd harboured about Shawn, more than the sex they'd been having, more than the things they'd whispered to one another in the heat of passion, this—this date—felt gay. He walked back into the livingroom, and looked at Derek.

"He said yes. We're going out this weekend"

"It's about time," Derek said as he changed the channel. "Oooh! CSI New York is on."

"Oooh!" Lassiter joined his brother on the sofa. "I like Sinese." He sat down next to Derek, who looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Like-like?" Derek asked.

"He's a good actor," Lassiter smirked at him. "And Melina Constantinides is a hottie."

"I agree," Derek said. "About Constantinides, anyway. She was nominated for an Emmy for her work on Guiding Light."

Lassiter frowned at his brother. "Do you really think I ever watched Guiding Light? I'm not that Gay."

Yet.

"Probably not." Derek laughed. They watched television in silence for a few minutes. "This is a repeat," he added. "She's being replaced by Sela Ward in the new season."

"The murder victim from The Fugitive?"

"Do you see everything like a cop?" Derek shook his head and then gestured at the television. "She was a swimsuit model on Frasier. She was the ex-girlfriend on House. She was on Sisters."

"I liked her in The Fugitive," Lassiter said defensively. "She played a woman with a catastrophic head wound very convincingly."

"Riiiight. Let's just enjoy watching Sinese squint angrily at all the injustice in the world."

"Twist my rubber arm."

The two men sat and watched television together.

It was a sunny and windy Saturday. Derek stepped out of the surf onto the rocky beach at Rincon. Half a dozen fellow competitors stepped forward to shake his hand and congratulate him on his ranking. He worked his way up the beach, tired but exhilarated. He shook the water from his ears and caught what sounded like someone calling his name. Derek scanned the crowded beach, heard his name again, and narrowed the caller to an area just off to this left. Then he saw something that made him wipe the water from his lashes and take a second look. There, nestled amidst the onlookers, was Carlton, dressed in a pair of slacks and a windbreaker, sitting awkwardly on a large piece of driftwood. Derek walked over to him and set his board carefully on the beach.

"When did you get here?" he asked breathlessly.

"We've been here since your pre-heat warm-up," Lassiter said. He was wearing a pair of binoculars around his neck.

"We?" Derek scanned the beach for Shawn and but seeing him among the thousand or so people milling about the beach was impossible. He'd been lucky to spot Lassiter as it was.

"Shawn went to find a porta-potty," Lassiter said. "I told him not to get that Big Gulp." He looked up at Derek and adjusted his sunglasses against the glare. "You're very good," he said. "I mean, as far as I can tell."

"Thanks." Derek laughed. "I appreciate you guys coming here. I know this isn't your thing."

"It's about time I did."

"Did Shawn talk you into it?"

"Of course not."

Shawn had talked him into it. First he'd insisted on going to the matinee showing of High Noon and then in between arguing that Gary Cooper's tie made him look like Colonel Sanders and that Grace Kelly should have ditched him and hooked up with Katy Jurado, Shawn had talked him into swinging over to Rincon. But oddly, Lassiter didn't mind being there. Sure they'd had to park way back on Bailard Ave., and the crowd was unruly and annoying, and the sand was everywhere, but the weather was good and the people next to him had been impressed when Shawn had identified him as Derek Lassiter's brother.

Shawn stepped out of the crowd and slapped Derek on the shoulder.

"Nice work, man," he said. "I've been talking to some folks and the buzz is you're probably going to win the division."

"I'd love to," Derek said. "I could use the money."

"You get money for this?" Lassiter's mouth hung open slightly.

"Yeah." Derek smiled and shook the water out of his hair. "That's what professional usually means, man."

"So…are you done here?" Lassiter motioned to the water.

"I'm done." Derek stretched. As the adrenaline waned he began to feel every ache in his muscles. Although he planned to surf until he died, there were certainly days when he felt his age more than others.

"Then do you want to come with us and grab something to eat?" Lassiter stood and wiped his hands down his pants to remove the sand and wood particles. "We can take my car. You'll have to sit on a towel of course."

"Thanks," Derek said. "Just let me store my stuff in the van. I know an Indian place on State street that has these great samosas." The three men began the long walk to the parking lot.

"So, Lassiter asked, "How much do you make at something like this?'

"Don't ask," Derek said. "I don't wanna jinx it. Besides, if I told you, you'd make me pay for dinner."