A/N: Here's something to tide over those of you waiting for the next chapter of Smashed--which is currently not agreeing with me--and the sequel to Intuition--which I swear is coming soon. Or, if you aren't waiting for any of them, here's a little Shassi to brighten your day.

Warnings: Yes, it's slash. Deal with it.


For the hundredth time—that was not an exaggeration either—Shawn Spencer found himself sitting in a hospital bed. He was sitting up and was almost completely lucid, though the morphine had been playing hell with his head for the past couple of hours. He felt giddy, which was probably a good thing considering who was walking through his door.

Shawn found himself capable of frowning and made sure to turn the corners of his lips sharply downwards as Lassiter sank into the chair next to Shawn's bed. The detective's face was a picture of guilt and he was wringing his hands. Seeing the detective so unnerved disturbed Shawn, but he felt a kind of vindictive pleasure too.

"Spencer, I am so sorry."

Shawn shook his head. "Lassi, you are so lucky I'm doped up on morphine right now. I don't know what would happen otherwise." The detective winced.

"It was an accident, Spencer, I swear to God."

"Lassi, you shot me! Shot me. I've never been in the hospital before because someone who was supposed to be my friend shot me. Other people shooting me, yes, but not my friend."

"The gun just went off. I don't know what happened, Spencer."

Shawn acted as though he hadn't heard the detective. "I mean, I know you don't like me, but I didn't expect you to shoot me. I thought we could get past it. You know how much that hurt, Lassi? Seriously? And it was totally not an accident and—hey! What are you doing?" Lassiter pushed himself violently out of his chair, sending it sprawling backwards, and approached Shawn's bed.

"What, are you going to finish the job, Lassi? They took your gun away, didn't they—." He suddenly found that he couldn't speak any more, thanks to the lips that had pressed themselves forcibly over his. His eyes widened and he stared at Lassi's closed eyes. Then, shrugging, writing it all off as a pain-induced hallucination, he relaxed and closed his eyes, intensifying the kiss.

With his good arm he pulled Lassi closer to him, yanking on the detective's shirt collar. He pulled Lassi off balance and the detective fell onto his bed with a grunt. When they ran out of air the detective broke the kiss first. "It was an accident, Spencer."

Shawn grinned. "I know, Lassi. Besides, getting payback will be fun."

"For me or you?" Lassi said, allowing a smile of his own to creep onto his stern face.

Shawn laughed. "Since you're the one being punished…." The younger man reached forwards and captured Lassi's lips once more. "I think we can work something out. Besides, getting shot was worth getting this."

Lassi raised an eyebrow. "Are you still going to feel so mild when the morphine wears off?"

Shawn grinned wickedly. "I'm sure you'll be able to convince me." He tugged on the detective's collar, winking suggestively.


Outside in the hallway a grinning Juliet held out her empty hand to Gus, who rolled his eyes, shook his head, and slapped a five dollar bill into her palm.

"Told you."