AN: My random one-shot take on how the bank episode in season 3 should have ended. Enjoy :)

"We're not just gonna let him do this, right, Lassie?" Shawn leaned over the detective's shoulder worriedly. He couldn't stand it if he had to let some new hot-shot come in and take over the situation, especially when it involved his best friend. He wanted Lassiter to do it, he trusted Lassiter to do it.

Carlton pursed his lips tight and slammed his car door. "It's protocol. We have no choice." His short, bitter reply told Shawn that he was just as upset at the direction things were going.

Shawn tried to think of anything that would help the negotiations, or at the very least just get Gus out safe, coming up with nothing. He stood back, listening to the absurd phone call into the bank, getting more anxious by the minute. His only option was to get inside the bank and do this himself.

It took some cunning and trickery, but he managed to get inside the bank, just where he wanted to be. After discovering the truth behind the robbery, he couldn't get Luntz to listen to him about what was really going on.

Frustrated, he dialed Detective Lassiter's cell. Part of him was afraid that Lassiter would be too hesitant to cross the red tape to help him do what needed to be done, but as he hung up the phone, he shrugged off that feeling. The other part of him, the irrational part of him that new that Lassiter would come through for him, took over. Now, he had to get back out of the bank and finish this.

As the SWAT team pulled Shawn from the front of the building, the tug of war began. It bothered Carlton that Luntz was trying to steal his witness, but he wasn't sure if it bothered him more because of who it was. If anyone was going to shake down and rough up Spencer, it was going to be him. 'Hands off.' ended the conversation as he pulled the younger man away from Luntz.

The Detective and the Psychic argued behind the van about protocol and procedure. Lassiter went in feeling confident that he could tell the phony mystic to shut up, be debriefed and then sit quietly while the real police did their jobs, but something about the passion in his argument and the desperation in his voice had him convinced. He never broke protocol for anyone, but in this instance, he knew that it needed to be done. He was going to follow his gut for once, 'Take life by the little Lassiters' as Shawn had said in their argument.

He slammed the back door of the van. "You take shotgun."

Shawn breathed a sigh of relief and made a quick trip to the front seat. "God, you are so sexy right now!"

Carlton hid a smile, hopping into the driver's seat, waiting for O'Hara. It always created a little spark inside of him when Spencer flirted with him. Since his separation, he didn't often feel important or attractive and while enjoying such small, mostly sarcastic comments seemed a little pathetic at times, he didn't care.

He also enjoyed Spencer mocking the older Commander. He didn't bother hiding his smirk as the psychic questioned his partner on the ride to find the kidnappers.

As they pulled up to the house Shawn had led them to, Lassiter's nerves stood on end. For once, he had a good feeling about Shawn's good feeling. Inside the house, they found the wife and chased down one of the culprits. As they headed back to the bank, Shawn was ecstatic. They had it all figured out and it would all be over soon. He and Lassiter had made a pretty good team and on top of it, they were going to totally humiliate Luntz and take all of the glory. It was turning out to be a pretty good day.

Shawn was setting up his new snack transportation device when he heard the familiar sound of the Psych office door opening. "I don't smell peanuts, Gus! I warned you what would happen if you came back without peanuts..."

"It's not Guster." Carlton walked in and closed the blinds in the main office hesitantly.

Shawn shook off the weird vibe he was getting from the detective. "Obviously, he's got a much better tan than you do and I can smell the lavender head oil stuff from a mile away... What's up, Lassie?" He quit fiddling with the wires, turning to focus on the other man. "If you came to witness the birth of the new age of snack delivery, it saddens me to inform you that it isn't quite ready yet. Best I can do is go into the kitchen and throw something at you."

"Oh, no thank you? I actually came here to talk to you, Spencer." Shawn's eyebrows furrowed, intrigued by the cautious, serious nature of Carlton's attitude.

"Hit me." He propped himself up against a desk, ready to be scolded about breaking protocol and yada yada.

"You were right."

That caught Shawn's attention. "I'm sorry, what was that?"

Lassiter rolled his eyes and stepped forward. "I said 'You were right', as much as it pains me to say that."

"Well of course I was right!" Shawn paused, scoffing at the idea that him being right a something new. "...About what, exactly?"

Carlton chuckled nervously a little. "About taking chances, and going with my instincts." He exhaled, preparing to admit something that he'd refused to admit almost two years ago. "There's something that I've been struggling with for over a year now and I haven't really had the guts to deal with it until today."

"Lassie, I swear, if you're going to finally admit that you're a fan of Glee, I need to get my camer-" Shawn was cut off by Lassiter's lips on his, and his hands against his hair. After a moment of complete shock, he realized how much he had been wanting for that moment. He had pictured it in his mind a million times, but those thoughts couldn't compare to the reality of the passion between them as they slid together, growing more heated by the second.

Shawn's hands reached out to grab Lassiter's jacket, pulling him closer without even thinking about it. Since the moment they connected, Shawn's brain had very little to do with anything but feeling.

Carlton followed Spencer's lead and leaned in, pressing him tighter against the desk, rubbing against him in the most delicious way possible. As their most sensitive parts came crashing together, Shawn broke their kiss to let out the most obscene moan the detective had ever heard. He almost lost it right there.

"Oh god, Lassiter…" Pulling him even closer, Shawn leaned back in. "You mean to tell me that we could have spent the last year doing this?"

Carlton lifted Shawn up, setting him down on top of the desk. "I guess we have a lot of lost time to make up for." He smirked as he started to unbutton Spencer's shirt, but was stopped short.

"Wait, Lassiter… Carlton." Shawn bit his lip, breath still heavy, covering the detective's hands with his own. He looked up to see confusion looking back at him. "Tell me that you want more than this."

Lassiter's brows furrowed as he pulled back, not understanding what was happening. "Shawn... What?" He was at a loss for words, he didn't know what was happening. It was all going so well only moments before.

He sighed, already missing the feeling of them being close. "I just... Don't get me wrong, I want this," He motioned between them and rested his hand on the other man's. "But, I want more than this too."

He took a deep breath, not sure if what he was about to say would ruin everything. "I want to set off your smoke alarm making pancakes for dinner. I want you to not be surprised when you wake up one morning and there's a pineapple in your shower. I want you to accidentally wear one of my shirts to work after you got dressed in the dark because you didn't want to wake me up at 4 in the morning. I want it all, and if I can't have it all, I don't want any of it. I can't."

Carlton was blown away by what he had heard. Never had Shawn been so serious before, so clear about what he wanted. It was the first time he'd ever seen that side of him, so honest and exposed. He knew right away that it was another side of Shawn Spencer that he would love.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know you felt that way." He bit his lip and pulled away completely. "I have to go." He straightened his jacket and shirt and walked out of the office.

Shawn sat in silence for a moment, not sure what to do or think. He had been telling the truth when he said that he couldn't only have a physical relationship with the detective. He'd thought about it several times and while the sex would have been great for a while, he would have the nagging feeling in his gut every time he saw the other man. It never would have worked and it would have been even harder to let go when he couldn't take it anymore.

He ran his hand across the desk, knocking off a stack of papers an a lamp. He cursed out loud and sunk to the floor in front of the desk, resting his head in his hands.

After only a few minutes, he heard the door to the office open again. Without looking up, he called out, "We're not open! Go away."

"It's me." Shawn looked up out of instinct when he heard Carlton's voice. He rubbed away the tears of frustration that were threatening to fall, that he'd held back better than he thought he could. He let out a small relieved laugh and smiled when he saw the detective holding a bouquet.

"I'm sorry, Shawn. I wasn't thinking, I wasn't doing things right before. It had been eating at me for so long and the urge to confess, the way that you looked, everything... I couldn't help myself and I'm sorry. Now, I'm going to do this right." He reached out his hand to help the psychic up and handed him the flowers.

"It's a little cheesy, I know... I just wanted to get back here quickly before you thought I'd changed my mind about anything." He rested his hand on the side of Shawn's face. "I want everything that you want and more. Maybe not the pineapple in the shower... But everything else."

Shawn's face lit up and he couldn't help but throw his arms around the taller man, initiating their second kiss, more chaste, but no less passionate than the first. They broke apart, flowers on the floor, Shawn back to being serious. "Carlton... The pineapple in the shower is non-negotiable."