All Those Little Moments 86, 93, 1, 40

[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.

***

86. Seeing Red

His favorite color used to be yellow. Golden, shiny, like a big piece of pineapple. He used to look at the sun just a little too long and wonder what it would be like if he could cut out a small slice of it and carry it around with him. He's heard a song about that. Some girl singing about a pocket full of sunshine. Shawn's pretty certain that one of his drunken ramblings might have inspired the lyrics, but he doesn't have enough evidence to sue for royalties.

Later, he liked blue. Blue, like the sky. Like the ocean. Like icy eyes that bore into him too intently, daring him to make a mistake. Blue that could melt with a sudden, unexpected flash of humor or passion. Blue that made his blood race and his breath catch in his throat.

But right now, with his body trapped between a chilly concrete block wall and a hot, lean body, he's reevaluating his favorite colors. Because, yes, those warm pools of intense blue are gorgeous, but he can't help but notice the crimson blush creeping up a white neck and staining pale cheeks and ears. Can't stop a small moan when a pink tongue darts out to dampen kiss swollen, ruddy lips. Can't stop himself from wrapping a burgundy tie tighter around his fist and yanking it's owner back down toward him.

Yeah, Shawn decides as he arches into that delicious heat and leans up on his toes to recapture that mouth, red is definitely his new favorite color.

*

93. Give Up

She didn't like to do things the easy way. If she'd learned nothing else in her life, it was that if it felt too easy, then you were probably doing it wrong. In school, instead of just glancing over notes right before the test, she had always set aside at least an hour a night the week before to study. In the academy, instead of meeting the minimum requirements, she had pushed herself physically and mentally so that even the most chauvinistic man there would have to admit that she was a damn fine cop.

When she started working at the SBPD, she was originally assigned to a young detective, barely more experienced than she was. By the end of the week she'd set her sights on Carlton Lassiter, determined to become his partner. And by the end of the second week, she'd been successfully reassigned.

After that first case with the psychic, the right thing to do would have been to ignore the rumors and comments and carry on as if nothing had happened. With the amount of fear and respect people had for Detective Lassiter, the talk probably would have died down before too long.

But…

As she boarded the plane that would take her away from Santa Barbara, from Carlton, she knew exactly what she was doing. She was taking the easy way out. It wasn't something she was proud of.

She did it anyway.

*

1. Introduction

Lassiter hates these stupid things. They're boring, annoying, a complete waste of time and departmental resources. If-no, not if, when-he's named Chief, the first thing to go will be the annual police picnic. It's too many hours of too many bugs, too many people, and too much sun. It's just…too much.

He glimpses Davis by the buffet and makes his way toward him. He met Davis in the Academy. Good cop, good man. As he draws closer, he notices the other man's wife. Can't quite remember her name. Something starting with an M. May? Martha? Mary? Sweet enough woman, but a little annoying. Forever trying to set him up with someone. Davis is always joking that his Margaret-that's her name-won't be happy until all of her single friends are settled, which means all of Davis' single friends have to pay the price.

Carlton's nearly on top of them when he realizes that today isn't going to be any different. There's another woman with them and he's close enough to notice the lack of a ring. He glances around, trying to find a way to surreptitiously slip away without them noticing, when the woman shifts forward and he sees her face.

She's lovely. The sort of girl who inspires artists to paint, poets to compose, and cowboys to hang up their spurs. Her gaze swings around and lands on him. Their eyes lock. For a long moment, her eyes are distant, cold. Frozen.

Then he smiles at her and it's like someone's flicked on a switch somewhere deep inside of her. Her ice queen expression melts, suddenly all sunshine and light. Lassiter's breath catches. Margaret finally notices him, takes him by the arm, and steers him a little closer.

"Carlton, have you met Victoria?"

*

40. Rated

"Seven."

"I'm not doing this, Shawn."

"Eh, maybe a six? Oh, wait, no. Definitely a five."

"It's demeaning to women."

"Damn! Look at that nine!"

"I'm serious, Shawn!"

"Aw, come on, Gus! Who's it really going to hurt?"

"Shawn! You told me this was important! I'm missing my chess club meeting!"

"Seriously?"

"Shawn…"

"Okay, just…Look at that girl over there. Look at her curves, the play of the light on her skin. Look at the spray of the surf hitting her legs. You can't tell me that isn't a fine sight to see. When you look at her, doesn't a little scoreboard pop up in your head?"

"That one over there?"

"Yeah."

"The one with her back toward us?"

"Mmhmm."

"Well, I guess if I had to say. I'd give her a ten."

"Gus, that's just wrong!"

"What? The girl is hot, Shawn!"

"Well, yeah, but she's also your sister, dude."

"…"

"Dude, you just checked out your own sister. That's pretty messed up."

"…"

"Gus? Gus, what are you-Woah! Gus, put that dow-OW!"