A/N: At this point, you should probably already know that I do not own the characters, but I'm fairly proud of the plot, which is mine. Steve Franks and USA own Shawn, Gus, Lassiter, O'Hara, Henry, Vick, Santa Barbara, the Psych name, and, of course, the incomparable Buzz McNabb. All references to Beauty annd the Beast and its plot and/or characters belong to...I'm pretty sure Disney. Yeah, that sounds right.

Set immediately after (and a little bit during) 3x11 (like I have to tell you that it's "Lassie Did a Bad, Bad Thing). So, there're spoilers for that. Rated for some language and some content.

Epilogue: Tale as Old as Time

Lassie lay on the bed under Shawn, and in the dark of the night which had so long ago set upon them, the only sound was their synchronized breathing. But Shawn knew better than to think that the detective was resting easy. After several silent minutes, Lassie proved him right.

"What if we just stayed here?" The question was sudden, but hardly unexpected.

All the same, Shawn played along. "What do you mean, Lassiepants?"

Shawn felt more than heard the small chuckle reverberating through Lassie's chest. Here, alone, in the darkness, he never scowled at the nickname. "I mean, until your apartment dries out. We don't have to tell anyone, but we could just stay here, you and me. It would be just us, our own little place for a while. I know you don't…I mean, my house…."

Shawn smiled, knowing Lassie couldn't see him. Maybe guys don't talk about things, Shawn thought, but I guess boyfriends do. He had never thought of Lassie in that light, never tried to label what they had, but it felt right to do it now. "It's not that I don't like your place; it's really nice, and talk about spacious, but…after what happened…." He shuddered, thinking of Drimmer, of the gun, of what had almost happened to them both. Shawn wanted more than anything to put into words what bothered him, but he couldn't make himself say it out loud. It was like saying it would put them back there, take away the happy ending they had found.

But Lassie didn't need words. "I know. I…trust me, I know."

Shawn heard something in his hesitation, something that gave him a strange sort of hope. "Maybe…after my place dries out…maybe we could both stay there. At least until your place stops scaring the hell out of the both of us. You could bring over some suits and stuff and just…make yourself at home."

"And then?" Lassie asked, and Shawn could hear the smile in his voice.

"Well, after your place is done being a crime scene, and it's done reminding us of…." And again, Shawn couldn't bring himself to say aloud all the things that sprang to mind when he thought of Lassie's living room. "I was thinking maybe we could both just live there."

There was a moment of silence, and Shawn panicked. It's too much; it's too soon; he's going to say no. Crap, why did I even say anything? Shawn had known from the moment he had first met the detective that Lassie was…a little broken, a little different, a little hurt. Shawn had known, the very first time he showed up on Lassie's doorstep, that this wouldn't be a normal relationship, and not just because they worked together, or because they were men, or even because Lassie was paranoid and a little crazy. Lassie's heart was still in the process of fitting itself back together, and Shawn had always known he would have trouble letting him in.

Shawn hadn't thought too much about it when Lassie had insisted that they only see one another when everyone else in practically the whole city was already asleep. Shawn had let it slide when Lassie kept him at an arm's length while the sun was up, whether or not they were at work. Shawn had tried not to complain too much when Lassie had told him that even though they had been seeing each other for months, he still couldn't tell Gus. He had accepted all of this, knowing that Lassie needed time to put himself back together before he accepted that what they had was real, was special, was love.

But now Shawn had blown it, and not in the happy fun way. He could see in his head what would happen next. Lassie would shift away from him, curling in on his own side of the bed. In the morning, he would start to ask if Shawn really thought staying together was a good idea. He'd get Shawn all set up in his own room, then conveniently find an excuse to switch motels, leaving Shawn behind. By Monday, their relationship would be back to booty call status, or worse. Shawn could have kicked himself, and likely would the second Lassie left the room.

"I think I'd like that," Lassie said, the grin still evident in the sound of his voice pulling Shawn back into the moment. Carlton shifted beneath Shawn then, leaning down, and for a moment, there was only the kiss. It was sweet and soft and slow, and it was the whole world.

Shawn could feel the butterflies in his stomach settling down for the night as the realization settled over him: he said yes. This wasn't something that could be blamed on the adrenaline or the hormones. This was real; Lassie wanted him, and soon they would be living together. Shawn deepened the kiss, relishing the moan he tore from the man beneath him.

Shawn knew Lassie wasn't much on words or big shows of affection, but Shawn could hear the message beneath what Lassie was saying. He had long ago become a master of reading between the lines, so when Lassie said "I think I'd like that", Shawn heard "I love you". It would be a long time before Lassie was ready to say it for real, but showing it was all that mattered to Shawn.

As they separated, slowly, Shawn leaned back into the bed. He couldn't think of a better way to drift off to sleep than with Lassie beside him and big, bright future out in front. His eyes slowly closed as the sounds of breathing once more filled the air. But even as he tried to shut his mind off for the night, it was fitting together the last pieces of the puzzle he'd been trying to solve all day. His eyes snapped open just as everything started to fit together. "It's a setup!" Shawn shouted in triumph.

He regretted his words immediately as every muscle in the body beside him tensed. "What?" Lassie asked, awake and alert at once. Shawn could feel his muscles bunch and release as he groped blindly for the gun left on the end table.

"No, no, Lassie," Shawn soothed until the detective settled back into place beneath him. "Gus, Jules…I think even my dad. Oh, ew," Shawn said as he pictured the three of them setting this up. "It's Beauty and the Beast. My dad's a loose candlestick and Gus is a gay clock!"

Lassie had begun to relax again, and when he spoke, his voice was heavy with sleep. "Does that make O'Hara Angela Lansbury?"

Shawn grinned despite his growing horror and leaned his head back to kiss Carlton on the curve of his jaw. "You are so sexy right now," he told the detective. "But my point is, I think they know."

The voice that responded was not as angry, as panicked, as indignant as Shawn had been expecting. And the words threw him for a loop. "You know what?" Lassie asked, shifting on the bed and throwing an arm around Shawn's bare waist. "I'm not sure I care."

Knowing what could happen if people found out, what it could mean for them both, professionally and personally, Shawn smiled. Lassie doesn't care if people find out. I mean more to him than the job, Shawn realized.

Shawn turned in Lassie's grasp, laying himself on top of the taller man. He settled one of his legs between both of Lassie's, and maneuvered an arm around Lassie's waist. Finally, pleased with his positioning, Shawn laid his head on Lassie's chest, allowing himself to fall asleep to the thud thud thud of Lassie's big, beautiful heart.

And that, as they say, is that.

Yes, I really wanted to get to write the line 'My dad is a gay clock', but I'm really (and, I think, legitimately) afraid of getting a faceful of Corbin Berenson's fist crashing through my computer screen. Plus his record with the ladies, coupled with Gus's fuddy-duddiness, made it better this way.

Great, warm, deep thanks go out to Elske, whyamisoclever, aki, torchil, Margaret-Malfoy, LiveFreeDieWell, jay, BraidedTissues, LittleCatZ, Puppetshow, NekodraK., Won'tGetFooledAgain, GiGiLiz, and MoonWiccan6 for keeping up with me and keeping me going. Kind words keep a writer motivated, kind hearts keep him inspired.

I feel like inspirated would have worked better, but I don't think that's a word.

As always, keep an eye out for more. You never know what I have up my sleeve.