"Shawn, you do realize that I have negative associations with being led to an unknown location?" Lassiter craned his head, trying to see something besides the tie Shawn had secured over his eyes. He wasn't entirely sure that it was appropriate for an interim Police Chief to allow himself to be blindfolded and led around like this. If asked, he supposed he could always claim it was part of a training exercise of some kind. Although at the moment it felt more like a hazing ritual. He squeezed his left arm against his holster and felt the reassuring heaviness of his Glock.

Shawn chuckled softly as he steered Lassiter forward. "I'm going to break that association."

Lassiter chuckled to himself. Given how hard Shawn had worked to break his negative association with handcuffs, today might even be enjoyable.

Shawn patted Lassiter's shoulder. "Step up."

Ignoring the feeling that he was about to be hung or shot, Lassiter stepped up, and a moment later he felt the cool evening breeze across his face. Crickets chirped. They were outside.

"Know where we are?" Shawn sounded gleeful.

"Well…" Lassiter thought. Shawn had picked him up in the Echo, and shortly after blindfolding him, had driven for forty-five to fifty minutes. The car hadn't stopped or slowed much, so they were at least thirty miles from the station. They'd parked in a gravel lot, and there were no sounds of traffic, so they were somewhere in the countryside. And they'd walked through a building that sounded large and empty—t heir footsteps had echoed. He'd heard quiet murmurs from a distance, so there were a few other people present. And – He sniffed the air.

"Horse manure," he said out loud. "Very faint. A farm? Old Sonora?"

"Close." Shawn pulled off the blindfold.

No. Not a farm, and definitely not an old Western town.

"It isn't a balcony," Shawn said regretfully, "but I was hoping this would be enough."

Lassiter gazed out at the twilit hills of the vineyard, at the sculpted railing of the large patio, and at the unlit strands of tiny lights strung along the winery's red, Spanish tile roof.

"It's enough," he said, bewildered.

From the doorway, two middle-aged women, both clad in chef's whites, were gazing at them with smiles on their faces.

"Who are they?" Lassiter said, nodding in their direction.

When the women saw that Lassiter had noticed them, they looked at Shawn guiltily and ducked back inside.

"Ina and Amelia," Shawn said, grinning broadly now. "They own this place. I called in a favor."

"A favor?" Lassiter repeated. "For wh—"

But Shawn had gestured at the doorway, and then the strands of lights turned on, and Lassiter found that he didn't need to ask anything else.

In giant straggling Christmas-lit letters the words "WIL U MARRY ME?" blazed to life against the roof.

"Oh dear," Shawn said mildly. "I forgot an L. I assure you, Lassie, I meant this for you, not for the goateed star of Stand By Me and The Guild."

"I—" Lassiter's mouth was dry. Blood pounded in his ears. Now, after all their arguments, after having given up hope that Shawn's fear of commitment would ever change, now…this.

"Wait." Shawn fumbled in his pocket. "Before you lecture me on the hazards of climbing on rooftops, just let me—p" He pulled out a tiny box and dropped to one knee.

"For God's sake." Lassiter reached down and hauled Shawn to his feet. He would not have photos leaked to the Courier in which Santa Barbara's acting Chief of Police was proposed to as if he were in a Julia Roberts film."Get up."

Shawn looked up at him, crestfallen. "You didn't even let me open it!"

"Don't need to," Lassiter said. He pulled Shawn toward him and covered his pout with a crushing kiss. He didn't need to see whatever hideously ostentatious ring Shawn had picked out to know what he wanted.

"Wow," Shawn breathed, once they'd broken apart. "That was nice."

"You're an idiot, Spencer," Lassiter said, cradling Shawn's face in both hands. "But you're my idiot."

"So, that's a yes, then?" Shawn's smile masked the trepidation in his eyes, but only barely.

"That is most definitely—" Lassiter growled, leaning in for another kiss— "a yes."

Maybe Yin was right, Shawn thought. Maybe there were no freeze-frames in real life. But in that moment, with Lassiter's arms around him and his lips ground against his own, it certainly felt like one. Right up until a surprisingly heavy body crashed into their legs.

Shawn looked down to see Charlotte's, wearing a child harness, with Gus at the end of the tether. She clutched Shawn's calves in a clumsy hug.

"Papa, hi, Papa," she said, beaming.

"Hello Sunshine!" He ruffled her curly red hair and turned to Gus. "Tell me you're not auditioning for Sled Dogs 2."

"She would look adorable in a little red snow suit," Lassiter allowed, dropping to one knee and planting a kiss on Charlotte's cheek to cover up the awkwardness he felt at Gus's sudden appearance.

"Agreed." Shawn looked down the hall. "Is the thing ready in the place with the guys?"

"Yes, Captain Vague, it's ready. See you there." Gus turned Charlotte around and headed back the way they'd come.

Lassiter watched them disappear through the double doors, and now he could make out the sound of familiar voices and Juliet's laugh. He turned to Shawn.

"When you asked me to marry you, you didn't mean...right now, did you?"

"No. God no!" Shawn laughed. He hooked an arm through Lassiter's and gently led him in the direction of the voices. "This is just a little wine tasting so I can announce the happy news. There's still the engagement party, then there's all the fun of the gift registry, and the photo session, and shopping for suits—"

"Gifts?" Lassiter tensed. In his experience the receiving of gifts was not always a happy occasion.

"Relax." Shawn smiled. "I dropped some pretty big hints."

"Hints like what?" He thought back to the box of snowglobes he'd had to drop off at Goodwill after one of Shawn's gift-related hints.

"Sig," Shawn said "Glock. Ammo." He looped his arm through Lassiter's and turned toward the party..

Lassiter's eyes lit up and he smiled broadly.

"Well then," he said. "let's not keep them waiting."