It was aproximately 12:17 in the afternoon and the restaraunt was completely alive, abuzz with the lunch hour rush. Waiters and waitresses nearly jogged to and from tables, balancing a number of trays on their arms at any given time. The smell of fresh, sizzling food filled the air so that you could almost taste the delicious entrees, from massive cheeseburgers to bubbling soups to steaming quesadillas. Laughter echoed through the walls and out to the open decks. The larger groups of people sat in the center tables, the couples were seated in the smaller booths, and there were a few folks hanging solo at the cocktail tables.

Shawn sipped on his coke, sighing aloud. He leaned forward on his side of the booth, grabbing a tortilla chip and dipping it in the super spicy salsa they'd given him. It burned like shit, and he was forced to take another drink to cool off his tongue. He stared at the table, drawing little patterns on the glossy wood with the sweat from his cup. He could hear the couple behind him giggling like teenagers on their first date, and he could see the couple in front of him practically making out on the table they were touching so much. Shawn glanced at his watch and sighed again.

He'd been here for an hour.

He'd called Carlton once and left a message, and he'd texted him twice with no reply. He didn't have much patience, but he tried - he really tried - to have plenty for Carly. He was a police detective afterall, and that came with certain responsibilities and priorities - things Shawn knew all about because of his father. He knew that the job was important. Peoples' lives hung in the ballance more than half the time, and that couldn't be ignored. He understood and he was more than flexible in that understanding.

But Shawn had made a promise to himself a long time ago. He'd always been the second priority as a child. After his mother had left when he was only six to pursue her own wants and desires, he'd felt abandoned. He'd clung to his father. But then, he matured - faster than any child should mature mentally - and he soon came to the realization that he was being abandoned again. Yes, his father was physically here. But birthday parties, baseball games, surfing competitions - all the events that Shawn ever cared about as a kid were time and time again missed in favor of his father's top most priority. His job. And yes, he raised Shawn. But he wasn't raising him into a man, he wasn't raising him into someone who could become himself. He was raising him into a cop, and the job was once again on the forefront of the agenda. His father didn't really care about Shawn, he cared about the job. Shawn's personal goals and wellbeing were second priority.

Shawn would never be a second priority again.

He'd dumped person after person because he'd felt they had higher priorities than the relationship at hand. But then there was Carlton, and Carly was different. Shawn wanted it to last between them. And because he knew about the job so well, because he understood what it meant to people - what it did to people - he forgot about his promise. It felt good for a while. He'd been dating Carly for almost a year now.

But it was times like this - times when he sat all by himself in a couples booth for an hour - that the old pain came back. The pain of being a lower, less worthy priority. The pain of feeling unimportant. The pain of feeling all alone again.

His first instinct was to call Gus and see if he wanted chinese take-out. Gus had always been there for him, no matter what. He knew he wasn't at the very top of Gus' priorities, but he was damn near close. Gus made him feel needed, cared about, important - and it felt nice. Truth be told, Gus was like the brother Shawn never had, but Shawn would never be sappy enough to actually tell him that.

Right now though, Gus was probably out on his route. And more than likely, he had his phone shut off so that Shawn couldn't bother him about a case. So Gus was out of the question. And his father had strictly forbid him from calling unless he was going to go paint his garage like he'd said he would almost a week ago. Negatory on that. Shawn was only going to go paint the garage if - and only if - there was cold, iced pineapple juice being served to him ever thirty minutes and the promise of steaks thereafter.

The fake psychic smiled and flagged down his waitress. She was a bouncy little high school girl, probably seventeen or eighteen, working hard not to screw up her first job. She wasn't doing too bad either. She had long brown hair, olive skin, and strangely pretty blue eyes. Her nametag read Clair.

"Hello! Were you ready to order, sir?" She asked brightly.

He shook his head, smiling at her. "Actually, can I just go ahead and get my check?"

"Of course! I'll be back in a jiff." She said before heading off.

Shawn chuckled. He hadn't heard the word 'jiff' in ages.

The fake psychic munched on a few more chips and finished up his coke by the time she came back with the check. He tipped Clair well. He figured, someone may as well feel good about themselves today. He sure as hell wasn't. He grabbed a mint as he headed out the front doors, popping it in his mouth.

The sky was clear today and the sun was beating down almost harshly, but the breeze was nice and cool. Shawn slipped on his helmet and started his motorcycle, loving the vibrations that traveled throughout his entire body. As he drove, it didn't take nearly as long as the fake psychic would have liked to get to his apartment building. This was great riding weather - warm sun, cool wind, air crystal clear. Shawn could have driven his bike all day. Instead, he plopped down on his couch and turned on the tv. Cases were fairly slowing coming at Psych, Gus was busy, the police had everything under control at the station, and aparently...Carly had other priorities.

Shawn sighed allowed again, flipping the channel. He was asleep before America's Next Top Model was over.

Carlton cursed under his breath as he practically ran out of the police station, jumping in his car and starting it up. He quickly buckled his seatbelt and pulled out, going slightly faster than the speed limit once he got on the highway. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his cellphone, keeping one eye on the road as he called his voicemail.

Hey Carly! I got the table here at Charlie's and ordered you an iced tea. I know, you're probably finishing up some paperwork. But that's why I'm saving the hard liquor and pineapple juice for the house! Hurry up, Lassy! I'm totally starving! See you soon, babe!

Carlton clenched his teeth and frowned as guilt built up in his gut. He cursed aloud once more as he glanced at the clock.

He'd missed his lunch date with Shawn by...three hours.

The first text message was simple and cute - I'm thinking about you...being here! Call me please!

The second text message didn't sound so optomistic - Is everything ok? Call me as soon as you can. I'm still at Charlie's.

Lassiter practically threw his phone onto the passenger side seat, frustration and guilt eating away at him. He'd promised Shawn they'd have this lunch date all week. He owed it to him for missing so many other dates with the younger man.

But then, he'd missed those dates for the same reason he missed this particular lunch date. The Hurley case. Juliet, Buzz, a number of other officers and himself had been working on busting James Hurley for drug dealing, theft, grand theft auto, and assault. He'd evaded them thus far though and had managed to steal about ten thousand dollars worth of jewelry and goods from a diamond emporium in that time. But they were closing in on him, slowly but surely.

Today, they'd gone into town to question and possibly arrest one of the men suspected of purchasing drugs from Hurley. It hadn't gone down as planned. The man had been high, had pulled a gun, and had begun firing aimlessly. Fortunately, he'd only had two bullets in his weapon. This made him no less dangerous, and they'd cuffed him and hauled him into the station. They'd questioned him for over an hour because, despite the seemingly pointless, senseless rambling, he was spitting out various bits of useful information. It was like a puzzle they had to fit together.

Then, the drug addict had promptly passed out. Carlton's rumbling stomach had reminded him of lunch, and a quick glance at his watch sent pangs of guilt running through his body.

He felt as if he'd let Shawn down...again. And he hated letting people down. Especially Shawn.

He'd let people down so much during his life and he'd promised himself he'd never do it again. His father had wanted him to keep the family business up and running, but Carlton, even as a kid, wasn't interested in working at an Irish meat shop. He wanted to be the hero, be the good guy, and that meant being a cop. Once again, he'd let down his family by going to the police academy right out of high school instead of attending college. He'd made all the best scores in his class, and his family had acted proud, but he wasn't working in the meat shop with his father and he could see the disappointment in their eyes. Lassiter had tried to find someone else to latch to, and he had. His ex-wife had been wonderful...at first. But then, he let her down as well. She just couldn't handle being the wife of a cop, and maybe that was his fault.

Then Shawn came along. Shawn Henry Spencer came along and all the sudden Carlton felt like he was doing something right. He was dating someone he wanted to go the distance with, and oh how he put the effort into it.

But he'd worked so hard to get to where he was today, not to mention all the lives that hung in the ballance, and he just couldn't - wouldn't? - give anything else priority over his job. And then again, there was Shawn, and the younger man meant more to him than anyone ever had. For once, something...someone...was more important to him than being a detective. But it was hard, changing his life to suit his new priorities, and it was more than just him that was suffering the hardship. The two most important things in his life were also suffering: his job and Shawn.

But, to be completely honest, Carlton was more worried about Shawn.

Lassiter took his exit on the highway, making a right turn at the intersection. He knew his boyfriend wasn't at Charlie's anymore. He clearly remembered Gus telling Shawn he had to work today and that his cellphone would be off, which made Gus a negative. And Henry...well, Shawn still hadn't painted the man's garage which automatically crossed out that option. That left one place to go.

Carlton parallel parked in front of the apartment building, sighing deeply as he walked by a familiar motorcycle. He made his way to the elevator, his guilt and his nervousness building as he rode it up to the third floor. As the lift gave a sharp 'ding!' and the doors slid open, he felt as if he were a dead man walking. Finally, he arrived at apartment 315 and stopped, taking a few deep breathes as he stared at the gold numbers on the door.

Gripping the gold handle lightly, he slowly opened the door and peeked in. The windows in the apartment were open which lit the place up, so Carlton immediately saw the top of a head propped up on the back of the couch. He quietly closed the door behind himself and tip toed toward his lover.

Shawn was sitting as though he'd been watching television, but his hand had apparently slipped from his leg, landed on the remote, and turned the tv off (or so Lassiter deductive reasoning told him). His head had fallen backwards and his lips were slightly parted, light puffing sounds heard as he took each breath. The expression on his face was peaceful, and Carlton was all the more guilt ridden at the thought of waking him up.

The detective tried to sit down softly, but the moment he did Shawn's head snapped up. He looked around quickly and in a daze, still half asleep but trying to be alert, and finally his tired green eyes landed on Carlton. The younger man gave a sigh and let his head lull back against the couch.

"Hey Carly." He said quietly, his mouth opening huge as a bear-like yawn overtook him.

Carlton sighed aloud, taking Shawn's hand in his own and rubbing over his digits with his thumb. "Shawn - "

"I'm glad you came by, Lassy." The younger man interupted him, surprising the detective for a moment. He opened his heavy lidded eyes and looked at Carlton, and all the head detective could detect was relief in those green eyes. "I was getting kinda worried there."

"Shawn, I know we've been - "

"Just," Shawn interupted again, leaning closer to Lassiter. "call next time, ok?"

Carlton stared at him for the longest time, and Shawn didn't even blink. There was so much more being said with the younger man's eyes than he'd ever say with his voice. Lassiter didn't know if he was reading everything and reading it correctly, but he'd like to think all his years of being detective had payed off in some way. Not to mention the utter affection Carlton felt for his younger counterpart. He'd like to think he could read Shawn's eyes fairly well, and he loved him all the more for what he could see in them.

"I promise I will." He said finally, squeezing the hand in his grasp slightly.

"A promise is more than saying, so you better stick to it, Lassy. Got it?" Shawn replied, grinning as he raised a skeptical eyebrow.

"I got it." Carlton leaned forward, a small smile on his lips as he captured the younger man's in a gentle but emotional kiss.

Lassiter sat back on the couch, draping his arm across Shawn's shoulders and tugging him in. The fake psychic stiffled another yawn as he snuggled up to the head detective, burying his head in the crook of his neck, throwing one arm across his torso and one leg over Carlton's. The older man leaned his head against Shawn's, his silky short, brunette hair tickling his cheek and smelling more than faintly of coconut shampoo. The Irishman was completely content in both mind and heart right now at this very moment with the sun shining through the apartment window and his lover draped lazilly across his body.

The quiet of the moment was interupted by a loud, angry growl.

"You owe me a food, Carly. So says the tummy." Shawn mumbled against his neck.

"Whatever you want."

"Alfonso's?"

"Alfonso's."

Shawn sat up and looked him in the eye, planting a large kiss on his lips. "Thanks, love."

Carlton smiled at him, that smile he saved just for Shawn, and gave him another little kiss. "Of course."

Shawn sat up all the way then. It amazed Carlton how much Shawn resembled animals in their various aspects. He yawned like a huge angry bear, he stretched his entire body like an acrobatic cat, he was loyal like a dog and wise like an owel. And well, he was like an untamed tiger in bed...but that was a completely different story.

Shawn stood up, and just as he was leaning down to grab his shoes, just as Carlton was really starting to appreciate the younger man's ass (which was purposefully on display, he knew this for a fact), a shrill ringing came muffled from his pocket.

Carlton's stomach dropped at the realization and what it inevitably meant. But he couldn't ignore it. That just wasn't an option.

"Lassiter." He barked into his cellphone. His guilt built up further as Juliet relayed the message to him, his grip on the cellphone getting dangerously tight. "Alright, I'll be there in ten." And he snapped his phone shut, shoving into his jacket pocket again.

He didn't move from the couch, just stared at the floor for what seemed like the longest time. And he didn't say anything because the lack of movement and sound told him that Shawn knew exactly who was on the phone and what they'd wanted. After a while though, he couldn't stand it.

"Shawn, I promise we'll - "

"Don't make promises you can't keep, Carlton." The head detective was slightly taken aback by the no bullshit tone that Shawn suddenly had.

"Shawn..." He sighed heavilly as he stood up and made his way over to the brunette. "I'm sorry!" He said desperately, trying to get it across to his lover that he really was sorry for missing out on another date.

Shawn gave a small smile as he looked at Lassiter. But Carlton could also see sadness, longing, maybe even regret in that smile. "You don't have to be, Lassy. I totally understand. Duty calls, right?" He sensed a note of sarcasm and cynicism in Shawn's voice, but only faintly. "Don't worry about lil' ol' me. I've been feeding myself for years now." Shawn took him by the shoulders and guided him toward the door, opening it and giving him a small peck on the lips. "Now, you go out and make the world a better place, Superman. And give Lois Lane a heads up for me, 'kay? Call when you get off!"

Carlton nodded and gave Shawn another kiss dispite the growing guilt in his gut. "I said I would right? I will. I'll see you later then, Shawn." He said as he turned around and began to walk away.

"I'll see you later, Lassy-face!"

Carlton stopped walking then as he heard the door close, and he knew that Shawn hadn't moved away from it. He was standing there right where he was, just like Lassiter. The head detective didn't need to see him to know he was right on the other side of the wood panel. The older man sighed aloud for the millionth time that day as he continued on toward the elevator.

Was life ever going to get easier?