coffeebuddha | Daily Drabble 29 (Reply)

Title: Spreading Good Cheer
Author: coffeebuddha
Rating: R/FRM (rated for language)
Characters/Pairing: Carlton Lassiter/Shawn Spencer
Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me.
Word Count: 634
Prompt: "Lassiter is determined to find out who his secret santa was." Requested by

zilentdreamer.

***

Five years ago, Carlton would have thought it was one of the guys down in vice or maybe a reckless rookie fresh out of the academy trying to get in good with the rest of the beat cops by playing a joke on the intimidating head detective. Of course, five years ago nobody was running around calling him 'Lassie', so the joke probably would have played out a little differently, he reflects as he runs his fingers over smooth, buttery leather. It's still mostly hidden by crinkly tissue paper, and his watch catches and tears the fragile paper when he grips the long strap tightly, his thumbnail digging hard into the surface, scarring it. His lips curl into a scowl as he looks around the station for the culprit. There's no name on the card that was tucked into the bag-a sleazy thing with a young, scantily clad Mrs Claus bending over, her fingertips daintily pressed to the perfect 'o' of her mouth and a thought bubble with the words 'Sometimes it's nice to be naughty' emblazoned in red glitter that's getting everywhere-but there's only one person who would do this.

Spencer's not hard to find. Not with the bright red Santa hat on his head, its stupid fuzzy pompom falling into his eyes so that every few seconds he has to jerk his head back so that he can see. Still, the hat's not the most ridiculous thing about his outfit. That dubious honor is a tie between his Christmas tree sweatshirt-complete with working lights-and the huge scarf looped at least four times around his neck with reindeer prancing all over it. It's 70 degrees and sunny out, but Spencer looks like he's about to go trekking to the actual North Pole, and that sort of lunacy really says everything Carlton needs to know about the man. It definitely reconfirms his belief that Spencer's the one who left a gift wrapped leash on his fucking desk, out where anyone could have wandered by and taken a look.

His scowl darkens. It's a good scowl; he can just make out his reflection in a window behind Spencer, and it looks at least as good as the ones he practices in his bathroom mirror, if not better. Spencer does a good job of ignoring it though, instead tossing his head back again, this time with an almost coy flutter of annoyingly lush eyelashes-what man really needs eyelashes that fucking pretty?-his mocking lips curving into a grin. Carlton scowls harder. Spencer winks.

Carlton's hands twitch, want to tighten into fists, and he wants, maybe even needs a little bit, to cross the room and grab Spencer by his ludicrous sweatshirt and slam him back into the wall and kiss him-no. No, not kiss him, because they're at the station. Yell at him, get in his face and watch his eyes darken, half hidden by those damn lashes, growl in his ear until he feels that tiny shiver work through his frame, the way it always does right before Spencer's hands come up. Come up like they're trying to push him away, but don't, always lingering on his chest or at his sides instead, stroking, almost petting like he's some kind of dog here for his amusement.

Well, Carlton's not amused, not this time. There's taking a joke too far, and a leash is over the line. He starts to take a step, ready to cross the room and tell Spencer just that, when Spencer's hands come up, fingers hooking into the soft looking wool wrapped around his neck. And Carlton pauses, his foot hovering a little above the floor, because when Spencer pulls the scarf down just a couple of inches, there's a thin strip of matching leather underneath.

***

Thank you for reading! Feedback is always appreciated!

First commenter gets to pick the next prompt! When requesting, please keep in mind that I try to keep these between 100-500 words. I don't mind going over occasionally, but the prompt should be something I can realistically fill within that limit. For a list of my fandoms, go here.

Sorry this is so late. I spent most of today-yesterday?-running errands, curled up willing myself to not feel like crap, and alternating between giggling and crying at episodes of Firefly. Which is my long way of saying that I know this isn't great-not even close-and it doesn't quite fill the prompt, but my body has informed me that I'm definitely in a sickly way and I hope you guys will forgive me.

IMPORTANT: Because of classes, I'm several episodes behind on Criminal Minds and still haven't caught up yet. If you request something for Criminal Minds, PLEASE keep that in mind and keep the spoilers AWAY from my journal. Thanks!