All Those Little Moments 67

[coffeebuddha]

Title: All Those Little Moments Are What Make A Life
Author: coffeebuddha
Rating: R/FRT (overall)
Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me.
Summary: A collection of drabbles and shorts for a 100 Themes Challenge. Contains various genres, characters, and ships-mostly Shassie with some Shules, Gules, and misc.

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67. Playing the Melody

From his spot in the back corner of the dim blues club, Shawn watched the singer sway closer to the microphone, her fingers curling around the stand, as the music started to swell. "I heard church bells ringing. I heard a choir singing. I saw my love walk down the aisle, on her finger he placed a ring." Shawn leaned a little closer, noting the moisture at the corners of her eyes and the small looks she kept darting toward the man who had served him his vodka and pineapple juice. "Oh, I saw them holding hands. She was standing there with my man."

Shawn blinked and tucked that information away for maybe later-the girl had stunning blue eyes and rebound sex was still sex-when he saw the couple walking though the front door. Was that Lassie? With his collar undone and his sleeves rolled up and his hair unshellacked? Wearing a deep blue shirt that Shawn suddenly wanted to offer his first born to, because hello! look at what it was doing to his eyes?

Was it possible to swoon manfully?

Wait a minute…couple? Was that a woman? The hell? What was Lassie doing here with a woman?

They hadn't noticed him and he shifted further into the shadows so that it'd stay that way. He didn't recognize the woman, but Lassie's hand was at the small of her back, guiding her toward a table, his head tilted down toward hers.

He gripped his glass tightly, ignoring the sudden dizziness that had nothing to do with alcohol.

They looked good together. Too tense for this to have been anything but a first date, but she looked pretty and wholesome and it was picture perfect and so incredibly wrong.

He drained his drink, his eyes narrowed on Lassie and that...woman he was with.

Shawn waited until That Woman got up from the table and headed toward the restroom before he made his way over to Lassiter's side. He plastered his biggest grin on his face and smacked the detective on the shoulder with a loud, "Lassie!" Lassiter was instantly in defense mode, halfway out of his seat before Shawn's voice and face registered and he sank back down with a scowl.

"Spencer. What are you doing here? Actually, you know what, I don't care, just get the hell away from me," he said, his voice all low and growly with annoyance. Shawn smiled wider and told himself that, since he wasn't a thirteen year old girl, he had not gone a little weak in the knees from the other man's tone and the only reason why he was falling into the bitch's vacated seat was because Lassie hadn't manhandled him, which meant he wasn't really serious when he said to go away. What he'd really meant was 'Oh Shawn, how lovely to see you. Why don't you sit down in the-bitch-I-came-with's chair, keep me company, and maybe climb in my lap when she gets back so she knows who I belong to.'

The thing with Lassie was that you had to know how to read him. Shawn ignored the scowl aimed his way and poked suspiciously at the bitch's day glow pink drink.

He most certainly wasn't blushing, but he waved a distracting hand around with just a hint of spirit fingers, not that that sort of thing had ever really worked on Lassie before.

"Oh, you know," Shawn said, adding a second hand to the show, "Just taking in a bit of local color. Heard there was a singer here who could give Dinah Washington a run for her money."

As if on cue, the woman on stage crescendoed, her voice sounding too tired to give the lines the fervor they needed. "I was just, I was just, I was just sitting here thinking of your kiss and your warm embrace when the reflection in the glass that I held to my lips now, baby, revealed the tears that was on my face."

Shawn grimaced and let his hands fall to his lap. "Too bad she's shit at Etta James. Of course," he added, unable to resist showing off, "she could just be upset about her recent break up with the bartender."

Lassiter arched an eyebrow, not taking the bait, his lips twisted in a disbelieving almost smile. "You listen to blues?"

Shawn stretched out in the chair, legs crossed at the ankle and hands behind his head. He flashed his best flirtatious look. "I'm a complex man, Lassie. I have all sorts of secrets and hidden depths." The eyebrow rose a little higher and Shawn laughed. "Or it might be that I served drinks at a live music place when I lived in New Orleans. Jazz, blues, big band, swing. After a while, it starts to get under your ears."

"Under your skin," Lassie corrected, the almost smile smoothing into a thin line as if he'd suddenly remembered who he was with.

"I've heard it both ways," Shawn shrugged, then leaned forward and gave Lassie his best you-can-trust-me look. "So, she looked like a sweet bit of pineapple." Actually, she'd looked more like a head detective stealing whore. "You two on a date?"

Lassie's face went blank in that way it always did when he was trying to figure out what Shawn was up to. Come to think of it, his you-can-trust-me look was another thing that never seemed to work on Lassie. The silence stretched uncomfortably long.

"There's something on your mind, baby, by the way you look at me, and what you're thinking brings happiness, oh and it brings misery," the woman sang, her voice more confident on the new song and Shawn watched her, trying to decide whether he needed to reevaluate his initial dismissal of her, before turning back toward Lassiter.

"I'm not here to ruin your night, Lassie." That Woman's, maybe, but not Lassie's. "Saw you over here and thought I'd come keep you from getting lonely while your date's in the bathroom." Shawn frowned, mentally reviewed the songs the band had played since the mystery date had disappeared, and peeked at his watch. "And it's good thing I did, because she's been in there forever."

Lassiter frowned and looked at his own watch, then rubbed a rough hand over his face and downed the finger of scotch in his glass. "You have got to be kidding me," he groaned.

Shawn looked quizzically at Lassie and leaned back to peer down the short hallway to the bathroom. The bathroom that was right next to the back exit. Oh, that bitch. Who did she think she was, walking out on his Lassie, as if he wasn't good enough! She was such a, such a...

"Bitch!"

Lassiter looked momentarily shocked by Shawn's indignation, but after a second his lips curled back into that almost smile and he waved his hand in a what-can-you-do sort of way.

"It's not that big of a loss. The entire evening's been a disaster. She's anti-guns, thinks history's a waste of time, and on our way here she actually asked me if Duke Ellington was related to Queen Elizabeth," Lassie said with a wince. Shawn blinked, then burst out in inappropriately loud laughter. Lassiter glared and kicked his ankle. "Shut it, Spencer. You're making more noise than the band. Do you want to get kicked out?"

Shawn reined in his laughter and batted his eyelashes at Lassie. "Aw, Lassie, would you be sad to see me go?"

"Hardly, Spencer," Lassiter snorted and shook his head, but his mouth had softened into the beginnings of a real smile. And maybe Shawn was a thirteen year old girl, because that made his breath catch, his stomach flip, and his face burn. He grinned so wide that it hurt as he claimed the abandoned pink drink. Kept his demeanor easy breezy. Focused on the music instead of what that smile was doing to certain parts of his anatomy.

"...he may not be the man some girls think of as handsome, but to my heart he carries the key." He either hated or loved that girl and he doubted he'd figure it out by the end of her set.

"You so would, Lassie! I can see it," he said, waving a hand vaguely in the direction of his head.

"Spencer," Lassiter growled in warning.

"Come on, Lassie, don't be an epileptic bunny. We're actually getting along pretty good for once-"

"This is what you call us getting along?"

"-and I say we go with it," Shawn continued as if Lassie hadn't spoken. "After all, your plans just fell through, and these already were my plans. If we're both going to be here, we might as well be here together." Shawn relaxed back into his chair and smiled, a genuine one, not the nearly manic grin he'd been wearing since he'd walked over.

Lassie looked at him suspiciously and Shawn did his best to radiate innocent sincerity. Reliable, trustworthy, true blue. That was him. Why was Lassie just looking at him? Did he have something on his face? Did Lassie not like his face? Okay, that might have been borderline ridiculous because obviously he was gorgeous. Ohpleasedon'tlethimleave. Sweat was starting to bead at his hairline when Lassie finally nodded. It was hesitant and just once, but it was a nod.

"Great!" Shawn beamed and waved Lassie's empty glass at him. "Can I buy you another?"

On stage, the singer crooned sweetly. "When you smile, you smile, oh, and then the spell was cast, and here we are in heaven for you are mine at last."