![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
How have you been? What's up? Look at all those stories that have been posted that I have to try to track down now. Pfft. Maybe I shall be lazy and just read the ones rec'd to me. I did notice some kerfuffle, the effects of which are only the vaguest ripple in my neck of the LJ pond at the moment. I'm sure I shall feel them more later. I'm too low energy today to investigate, though I have been downing the B vitamins like you wouldn't believe.
I volunteered to rec for a month on crack_van, though they haven't responded yet, I'm still antsy.
Also, do I have money to go the X-Files movie (and CKR)? Hmmm, probably not.
I'm taking great comfort in the fact that Lincoln didn't really achieve what he wanted until later in life; it makes me feel like much less of a loser dork. And I have this urge to reread all of catlover's "Greg Sanders: Private Dick" AU, which would take FOREVER but is still fun. (And oh, someone needs to volunteer to update the CSI recs on crack_van, they are *old* and haven't been updated in forever).
Blah.
I volunteered to rec for a month on crack_van, though they haven't responded yet, I'm still antsy.
Also, do I have money to go the X-Files movie (and CKR)? Hmmm, probably not.
I'm taking great comfort in the fact that Lincoln didn't really achieve what he wanted until later in life; it makes me feel like much less of a loser dork. And I have this urge to reread all of catlover's "Greg Sanders: Private Dick" AU, which would take FOREVER but is still fun. (And oh, someone needs to volunteer to update the CSI recs on crack_van, they are *old* and haven't been updated in forever).
Blah.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
From:
no subject
From:
no subject
Email away. :)
From:
no subject
From:
no subject
Um..well I has some stuff in mind for the future, but nothing is definitely set in stone yet, so I'm fairly flexible. In fact the next one I want to do has them...sort of reaching a momentary peace. So could this Fearless Guster
moment theoretically take place after that?
From:
no subject
I did it so if it needs to be taken out, it can, so it's no big deal if it doesn't fit with the canon. I can send it without.
From:
no subject
It wouldn't be that hard
From:
no subject
From:
no subject
From:
no subject
From:
no subject
I made Gus have the revelation as he was having his little talk with Shawn...he would want to act on it pretty quickly.
I'd say the way I have written it, the strip club could have played out the same way even with the vague intervention from Gus. I mean, Lassi was already wrestling with his emotions before it and he does go to act on them at the club, so, theoretically, it could wor---oh, damn it, I am going to post it her so you can just read it and then you can have a legit reason to tell me to stop fucking with your 'verse :)
From:
no subject
Ok, stopping right there. Best friend may be toying with the idea of buying some Judy Garland mp3s, but Gus does not need to have the sordid details laid before him.
Now Shawn is late. Gus has been waiting for over twenty minutes and Shawn is not at Psych where he said he would be. And, of course, why wouldn’t he be? Why shouldn’t the simple act of being forced into helping Henry repair a leaky window take three hours?
If Gus didn’t know better, he would swear that Shawn really is psychic and avoiding Gus because he knows something bad is going to happen…and the chances of that something bad happening are steadily increasing with every passing minute and Gus simply cannot be responsible for any chokehold that may occur when Shawn decides to show up.
It’s when Gus finally gets a cramp in the arch of his left foot (time to buy more arch supports. There is nothing more important than healthy feet to a man whose job requires being on his feet a lot…and whose off time involves a lot of jogging…and bench pressing…and other manly activities) and sits to channel his anger into a few rounds of old school Tetris that he hears the rumble of Shawn’s bike pulling up outside.
Ok, play it cool, Guster. I haven’t been waiting for hours. I just happened by and stopped in to pick up the leftover jerked chicken in the fridge. I certainly haven’t been pacing up and down waiting impatiently for you to—
“GUS!” The overgrown puppy hurricane has arrived. He’s holding something frosty and fruity, obviously a reward to himself for time served with Henry Spencer. He bounces in like his Chucks are lined with springs and plops down in his chair, obviously noting the fury in Gus’ face but choosing to ignore it.
Gus takes a deep breath, not once taking his “I’m mad at you and I really want you to know it” look off Shawn. He opens his mouth to start his well-rehearsed, mature, calm speech. One that epitomizes the understanding and sympathy that comes with having a Guster as a best friend. One that his father would have surely won an award for when he was treasurer of Toastmaster’s. A speech worthy of—
“WHAT THE HELL, SHAWN!”
Shawn is so surprised at the outburst that he drops his cup.
From:
no subject
“I’m not talking about that, Shawn! I’m talking about you! And Adam Hornstock! And Detective Lassiter! I saw you, Shawn. I saw you that night at the bar, coming out of the bathroom after Hornstock. I know what you did in there and don’t you dare try to deny it. And what was that afterwards with Lassiter, hmmm? You’ve been weird around him ever since and he’s been weird to you and what the hell was that with Hornstock in the dry cleaners? It’s like a circle of awkward with you three and I don’t know what makes me the angriest about all this, Shawn, but I do know that I am not too happy with you keeping all of it a secret from ME, your best friend since we were in 2nd grade! You really felt that you couldn’t tell me that you like guys or that you have a thing for Lassiter or that you MADE IT WITH HORNSTOCK IN A BATHROOM? Dude, guy or not, once I get past the general ewwwww factor of getting it on a dirty bathroom with all the cooties running around in there, that’s the kind of thing a best friend usually high fives for and here you are keeping everything to yourself and moping around like a 16 year old girl and I don’t know why and I would think that, no, you should know that I love you, man, and I am not going to drop you because you like guys! What kind of person do you think I am? You think I would care about that kind of thing? After all the crap you have pulled over the last 21 years? At least this won’t get me hauled in for questioning by the Federales! At least we won’t spend 4 days in a San Diego hospital being treated for food poisoning! And I am pretty sure this won’t get us banned for life from the Del Taco in Rancho Cucamonga. Shawn, jeez, don’t you think your feelings mean more to me than who you choose to pull into a bathroom in a crowded bar? Now, will you please tell me what is going on?”
Since the invention of Shawn Spencer, there have been five times that he was rendered completely speechless. This one left them all behind.
He wasn’t this quiet when a teenaged Gus walked into a teenaged Shawn’s room the day his mother left. He wasn’t this quiet when the Santa Barbara Police (in various forms at various times) informed him of his right to remain silent. He was quiet for about 30 seconds when he and Gus had cracked their first big private case and received their first big check. Shawn couldn’t even keep quiet after his tonsils came out.
Shawn opens his mouth to spill everything, to let loose everything that has been happening since the McCallum murders and the stolen diamond ring and that funny feeling he got the first time Lassiter ever threw him up against the wall and how easy it would have been to get him into bed that night he was completely trousered at the bar (and there were handcuffs) and how he had completely screwed up, but nothing comes out. Breath heavy in his chest and heart pounding against his ribs, the words just don’t come. To admit it would be admitting that Lassiter can’t even stand him. It would be admitting that Hornstock was nothing more than a substitute for Lassiter and that Shawn had used him. It would also be admitting, finally, out loud, that while girls are soft and curvy and pretty, guys are not half bad, either. Especially one guy. Especially Lassi.
From:
no subject
“Come on, Shawn. You can’t keep this inside forever. I deserve to know. I’m your best friend. Who else are you going to talk to? Your dad? Juliet? C’mon, talk to me.”
“Ny feen mmm muv niv thassi,” Shawn finally manages through his hands.
“You find my leather gloves classy? Shawn, this is Santa Barbara, it’s too hot for leather and I don’t wear gloves. What do you think I am? A Chauffeur?”
Shawn looks up at Gus with a look that could only say, “Dude.”
“I think,” he pauses between words so Gus can get the full effect of what he is trying to say. “I’m in love.” Gus’ eyebrows pop up. “With Lassi.”
Shawn leans back in his chair, looking like he is expecting a sad Gus or a mad Gus or a grossed-out Gus, or a girly scream and run away Gus, but he finds…smug Gus?
“Now, was that so hard?”
“You knew? Dude, you knew this? How did you find out?”
“I’m Magic Head, remember? No, seriously, Shawn, you aren’t too subtle about it, the way you touch him all the time and sit on his lap and tease him. It’s pretty obvious to me, at least. You have it bad for him. So what’s this about Hornstock?”
Shawn sighs. “Yeah, that. It doesn’t matter anyway. Not now. Now that Lassi—Lassiter and Hornstock are…” His shoulders slump as he looks away from Gus. He can’t bring himself to finish it.
“Are what? Lassiter and Hornstock? Really? Those two? Now I know you are going crazy, Shawn.”
“No, really, Gus. I saw them, that day after the dry cleaners. When you told me not to go and I went anyway. I saw them in his office, you know….”
Gus shakes his head. Dealing with bi Shawn is one thing. Dealing with heartbroken Shawn is quite another, especially since Shawn was always the one doing the heartbreaking. “What are you going to do, Shawn?” Gus asks this with hesitation, hoping that, for once, Shawn is not entertaining thoughts of dashing in like a romantic hero or some other way of breaking up the unlikely couple.
Yeah, not so much. Shawn’s face brightens in a way that will eventually give Gus ulcers thanks to what usually happens after that. “Dude! I am going to get Lassi. I mean, come on, even you can’t see Lassi and Hornstock together!”
From:
no subject
The grin fades and determination replaces it. “Yeah, but Gus, why is he so angry at me? Because I got to Hornstock first? Not likely. I mean, he’s cute and easy and…” Gus purses his lips. “Ok, I’ll stop there, but, dude, come on, Hornstock? Over me?”
“No, Shawn. This is none of your business. You can’t break them up or spy on them anymore. He will find some way to throw you in jail—or worse—and what then? You try to romance him from the big house? This is a bad idea, Shawn. Really bad. You need to forget about Lassiter and concentrate on solving cases.”
Shawn knows that Gus is his only voice of reason, but he also knows that Gus is wrong and the image of Lassi and Hornstock and the sound of Lassi calling out Shawn’s name by accident plays over and over in his mind but Gus does have a point and there’s no reason he can’t take away something from the conversation.
Gus is reasonably sure that Shawn is slightly agreeing with him as he nods his head.
Gus sits on the edge of Shawn’s desk, moving aside what is left of his drink. Green eyes, a little duller than usual, look up at him, trying to cling on to and absorb what he knows is the right advice, but something in there is fighting it and it’s deep and it’s probably love or lust or obsession, and so what if Gus had once thought Lassiter could have it just as bad for Shawn. If he is truly with Hornstock, then Gus’ only responsibility is to Shawn and to help him get through this heartbreak. Unlike Shawn, Gus can admit when he is wrong and maybe he had it all wrong in the club that night. Maybe Lassiter was angry at him because of Hornstock, but just as something in Shawn is fighting Gus’ advice, something in Gus is saying that Hornstock and Lassiter are wrong.
But telling Shawn that would be stupid, because it’s Shawn and any sliver of hope will send him over the edge and far from any chance he would ever have with him.
And, wow, Gus cannot believe that he is erring on the side of caution in order to increase Shawn’s chances with Lassiter. Which, as long as the shocks are coming, makes it time to get some questions answered.
“Soooooo, are you gonna tell me when exactly you became bisexual? I’d like to know precisely, so I can deliver the right amount of ass-kicking for not telling me before.” Gus may only be half-joking. He’s not sure yet and won’t be until he sees his right foot in control of itself when the number of months or years comes out.
“Well…let’s see…November the 18th 1994, which would make it roughly 14 years.” Of course Shawn remembers the date. He probably could tell Gus the time, what he was wearing, and the last thing the boy ate before he kissed him. “Remember? Steve? I tried to tell you, but you were so pissed about the whole Jess thing that you didn’t want to hear any more about it.”
“I thought that was just a phase or some kind of experiment, Shawn!”
From:
no subject
“--these men promptly escaped from a maximum security stockade to the Los Angeles underground. Today, still wanted by the government, they survive as—I don’t want to hear that, Shawn!” He takes his fingers out of his ears as Shawn laughs—a good sign.
“So,” starts Gus, wanting to know more, but kind of not, too. “How long have you had it for Lassiter? A vague idea, please. Or, you know, what case was it? Just the case name, Shawn. I’m warning you.”
“The electronic store robberies. Before we formed Psych. What led us to form Psych, I guess.” Shawn looks down sheepishly, remembering the flash of anger in Lassiter’s blue eyes in the interrogation room and the subsequent stab of jealousy that ripped through him when Lassiter stole a moment with his former partner. It is a moment he hid down inside, burying it, not knowing what to make of it, because Shawn never got jealous before Lassiter. Shawn charms and cajoles and cons and eventually gets what he wants, taking it anyway he knows how, but Lassiter was different and protected and not even in the same league as anyone to which Shawn has ever been attracted. He hid it down, disguising it with teasing and annoying until the next time Lassiter put his hands (and cuffs) on him, outside the McCallum house and, hey, that wasn’t supposed to be a turn on, but there it was. And Shawn, in true Shawn fashion, trying to avoid jail and also the threat of everyone seeing the massive erection he was sporting, turned the tables with a vision. But the true visions came that night as Shawn lay in bed. Memories of Lassi’s body rammed up against his own, pinning him to the car, hands cuffed behind him, except Shawn was substituting his own bedroom for the scene and there was nudity and Shawn dismissed it as just another bi fantasy and Lassi doing his job, but then there he was, weeks later, with Lassiter’s arm around him as he dragged Shawn from Bethany, Dylan, and the lovely, lovely Lacey and the subsequent throwing him against the wall that eventually led to that just plain weird moment in the kitchen and, really, how far up would Lassi have bent his leg if Jules had not found the body in the dumbwaiter? It’s moments like those that Shawn is clinging to and they can’t have happened for any other reason because Detective Carlton Lassiter doesn’t lose his cool, not even with criminals. And Gus is only slightly less annoying than Shawn and Lassi just seems to pity him.
From:
no subject
Hornstock is a phase. Shawn is sure of that. A stupid, floppy haired, silk-tied, well-educated, easy-lay phase and—
“No, Shawn, I can see you thinking. Leave. Him. Alone. Don’t speak to him, don’t piss him off, and don’t touch him. Find someone else to grope when you psych out.”
Gus knows that leaving Shawn to his own devices in the coming weeks will be out of the question. Which means less time at proper work. Again. He can’t trust Shawn to keep his mouth and his hands to himself and he knows as soon as he turns around that Shawn will be sitting in Lassiter’s lap or affecting that stupid girly voice as he solves a case with a near-orgasmic vision centered directly on Lassiter.
And, of course, Lassiter will flail around, blushing and stammering, and it brings Gus back around to the whole idea that Lassiter wants Shawn just as badly and Gus starts to straddle that line again, that line that divides Shawn and Lassiter and makes Gus a tug of war rope and that hankie tied to him pulls to the Shawn side a little more and he knows it’s wrong to even consider helping the other side win, but until he is sure about Lassiter’s feelings, he has to do what is right for Shawn, especially if Shawn can’t do it himself.
“I know, Gus. I know. Leave him alone. I’ll be good. I promise. I’ll mind my own business and be quiet and have museum hands around Lassi and just stick to solving cases.” Shawn has the pouty lips.
“Good.” Gus crosses his arms in some semblance of triumph.
“Until he touches me, cuffs me, throws me up against a wall, glares at me, or does that growly thing at me when I am off minding my own business. Then all bets are off.”
“Sha—,” Gus starts, but, really, he can’t argue with that and he knows it. If Lassiter does strike first, then he can’t expect Shawn not to react.
“I take your silence as a deal, then? That if by some miracle or divine intervention Lassi makes a move on me, I can do as I usually do and ignore you?”
Divine intervention. Hmm. Something clicks that makes any half-hearted agreement suddenly ok. “Alright, Shawn. Fine. But, for now, he is off limits. Agreed?” Gus extends a hand.
From:
no subject
Hornstock is a phase. Shawn is sure of that. A stupid, floppy haired, silk-tied, well-educated, easy-lay phase and—
“No, Shawn, I can see you thinking. Leave. Him. Alone. Don’t speak to him, don’t piss him off, and don’t touch him. Find someone else to grope when you psych out.”
Gus knows that leaving Shawn to his own devices in the coming weeks will be out of the question. Which means less time at proper work. Again. He can’t trust Shawn to keep his mouth and his hands to himself and he knows as soon as he turns around that Shawn will be sitting in Lassiter’s lap or affecting that stupid girly voice as he solves a case with a near-orgasmic vision centered directly on Lassiter.
And, of course, Lassiter will flail around, blushing and stammering, and it brings Gus back around to the whole idea that Lassiter wants Shawn just as badly and Gus starts to straddle that line again, that line that divides Shawn and Lassiter and makes Gus a tug of war rope and that hankie tied to him pulls to the Shawn side a little more and he knows it’s wrong to even consider helping the other side win, but until he is sure about Lassiter’s feelings, he has to do what is right for Shawn, especially if Shawn can’t do it himself.
“I know, Gus. I know. Leave him alone. I’ll be good. I promise. I’ll mind my own business and be quiet and have museum hands around Lassi and just stick to solving cases.” Shawn has the pouty lips.
“Good.” Gus crosses his arms in some semblance of triumph.
“Until he touches me, cuffs me, throws me up against a wall, glares at me, or does that growly thing at me when I am off minding my own business. Then all bets are off.”
“Sha—,” Gus starts, but, really, he can’t argue with that and he knows it. If Lassiter does strike first, then he can’t expect Shawn not to react.
“I take your silence as a deal, then? That if by some miracle or divine intervention Lassi makes a move on me, I can do as I usually do and ignore you?”
Divine intervention. Hmm. Something clicks that makes any half-hearted agreement suddenly ok. “Alright, Shawn. Fine. But, for now, he is off limits. Agreed?” Gus extends a hand.
From:
no subject
“OWWWW! WHAT WAS THAT FOR!” Shawn rubs his aching head and looks to Gus, who is standing by the refrigerator, with one eyebrow cocked, daring Shawn to throw it back.
“I want my jerk chicken, Shawn!” Gus holds up another box, this one of Chicken in a Biscuit and it’s nearly full.
“OK, OK! I’m going!” Shawn jumps up from his chair and runs out the door, barely avoiding the salty, chickeny goodness that hits the door frame.
“You know that’s right!” Gus blames his bad aim on the cramp in his foot that Shawn caused.
From:
no subject
It’s insane and stupid and none of his business and so like a teenage girl of him and he can’t believe that he is about to break his own rule, but that little something in the back of his mind makes Burton Guster pick up the phone and make a call.
From:
no subject
From:
no subject
First: What's next??????????? *meeeeeeh*
Second: I find your Shawn-isms incredibly amusing and in character.
Third: You switch pov kinda suddenly, but I was down with it after a second.
Fourth: The only real time line issue I have is that I don't know that Shawn even articulates his feelings for Lassipants until during/after the strip club bathroom smex, when its pretty freaking obvious that he wants to take Lassi home as a pet. I think Gus would get it, I'm not sure Shawn would. Maybe, if someone forced him to...like Gus.
But I'd have to reread the strip club one, I kind of wrote it in a daze.
From:
no subject
I didn't like that confession so much, either, so that is on the rewrite list.
I am SO used to omniscient POV that it's hard to do one person POV.
What is next is the confrontation between Gus and Lassi...it's written already.
From:
no subject
From:
no subject
I will have to reread stripper thing and my notes for the one following that I haven't written yet.
Meanwhile...Gus knows the truth!!!! I love him debating whether or not to help Lassiter win Shawn.
heeeeee!
From:
no subject
From:
no subject
From:
no subject
From:
no subject
From:
no subject
Still, Gus can’t help but look around him with every few steps, praying that Shawn isn’t getting ready to jump out at him, bouncing from behind a ficus to shove a case file in his face. He walks straight up to Detective Lassiter’s desk and, before he can clear his throat, Lassiter looks up at him with a look Gus can’t quite decipher.
“Mr. Guster. To what do I owe this little visit today? Did Spencer send you down here to try to clear up some parking tickets or are you here to tell me he has landed himself in jail and I get to go there and gloat?” The fire isn’t quite there and it doesn’t take a fake psychic to read Lassiter.
“Actually, detective, I—I—I was--,” Gus stammers and he realizes how hard this is going to be and maybe he should have thought this out a little more before storming in. “—I was wondering if you could recommend the best place to learn to shoot a handgun.” No, dummy, that wasn’t it. He picks at an invisible thread on his shirt and looks around for Shawn again.
Lassiter looks a little taken aback and then smirks. “Why, Mister Guster has the PI business finally gotten too dangerous for you? Have Spencer’s exploits finally caught up with him and you finally realized just how unsafe you are with him?” Gus thinks Lassiter might offer to teach him if only there is a chance he could convince Gus to “accidentally” shoot Shawn.
And now Gus just has to run with it. Why does Lassiter have to be so scary? “No, Detective Lassiter, I have to carry some pretty powerful narcotics on my route and one of our reps in Chula Vista was robbed at gunpoint last week and he’s still recovering in the hospital. I just want…you know…a little protection. I was wondering what the steps were to get a permit to carry one and the best person who can teach me how to use one if I ever needed one.” Gus is proud of himself. That actually sounds good.
Lassiter stares at Gus for a minute, trying to gauge whether to help Gus or not. He is the less annoying one of the pair and isn’t prone to bullshit like Spencer is and he holds a real job that Lassiter has actually heard of him going to once or twice. Against his better judgment, Lassiter sighs and stands.
“Alright, Mister Guster, I have a friend down at the police range who can help you learn to shoot your target and not your own ass…or Spencer’s. As for the permit, I can introduce you to someone downstairs who can help you with all the steps to get one. I have to go down there anyway, so you can walk with me.”
Gus doesn’t know if Shawn is rubbing off on him after all these years or if Lassiter was ridiculously obvious about it, but he didn’t fail to notice the change in his face when he mentioned Shawn’s ass.
Lassiter comes from behind his desk and adjusts his tie awkwardly, the small smile Gus is trying to hide not escaping his attention.
From:
no subject
“So, detective…” Well, it couldn’t last forever, could it? “What did you do last night?” It was a crap conversation starter and they both knew it and Gus knows that Lassiter is just waiting for him to get around to the real reason for this visit.
“I read, Mister Guster. I was going through the profile of the suspected bird dealers who might have a stake in stealing two extremely rare, extremely expensive Blue Amazon Parrots from Tamatoa Teiki’s mansion.”
“The Polynesian airline heir? The Tahiti Tweety case?”
“Tahiti Tweety? Is that what the media are calling it?” Up until 4 am researching and profiling and he hasn’t had nearly enough coffee for it to be reduced to a cutesy rhyming nickname, especially when the birds are worth over twenty thousand dollars each.
Ok, that’s not helping his cause any, making Lassiter mad. Time to try a new approach.
“We, Shawn and I, sat in last night. No cases or anything. Watched a movie. Pirates of the Caribbean 2. It was kind of bad and Shawn thought that all of that rum was being wasted without the addition of a pineap--,”
Lassiter harrumphs. “Of course Spencer would relate to law-breaking, no good pirates. Why doesn’t that surprise me?”
“Actually, he seemed very focused on the British Navy officers. The ones in wigs, you know. Said he admired their—OOF!”
Gus has suddenly found himself shoved into a small room with nothing but a few desks and a pissed off Lassiter, who has him by the back of the collar and is not letting go. He jerks Gus around to face him and Gus does not want the last thing he ever sees to be Lassiter’s angry face. Gus flinches slightly, not knowing whether Lassiter is going to kill him right there in the police station. If anyone could hide his body and cover up his murder, it would be the man who has foiled a lot of attempts in his career.
“Alright, Mister Guster, you have three seconds to explain or so help me, I will find some reason to throw you in lockup! Did Spencer send you here? Are you here trying to get information for him?” Gus will never understand how Shawn can think an angry Lassiter is a turn-on. He’s scary and there is a real air of danger to him and Gus thinks Shawn should fear for his life more if Lassiter regularly gets this way with him.
“N-no, Detective, Shawn doesn’t know I’m here! I swear! He would kill me more than you are going to if he knew I was here.” Fingers loosen on his collar and Lassiter backs away slightly, readjusting his tie and giving Gus all his attention. “Look, Detective, I am not here to cause trouble or make you mad—madder—but Shawn is my best friend and if you have any respect for him, any at all, if you truly do hate him or if you are just hiding how you truly feel, you need to tell him the truth. I’ve seen how both of you are acting lately and I’m sure you don’t want someone like me telling you how ridiculous you both are. I’ve gotten him to promise to leave you alone, so that gives you plenty of time to think about it, but you two need to figure out how you feel about each other, Detective Lassiter.”
Lassiter doesn’t blink or change the dumbstruck expression on his face as he runs a hand through his hair and walks out the door, leaving Gus alone and a little confused as to whether the talk did any good or made things worse.
From:
no subject
Would rimming (in fic form of course, sorry, we just aren't that close yet heh ) make you feel better, even if it was CSI? I'm still debating that shower porn...
From:
no subject
Though when I have problems with an ending, I've learned it generally means that I didn't properly resolve something earlier in the story and I have to fix that to end it right.
But I don't if that's it, or if I'm just greedy for more. (This is possible, I am greedy).
You know what was awesome about S.2, is that Gus sort of came into his own, and starting snapping back at Shawn, and Shawn let him. No wonder he became Fearless Guster in S.3, all that confidence.
That just occurred me just now, so I'm assuming that's my subconscious telling me something about this story. I wish I knew what.
(I reread stripper thing: I noticed that Shawn knows he wants Lassiter really, really badly. He knows he has strange protective feelings about Lassiter, but he doesn't get that that's love. But yeah, Gus would, since Gus has been in love before (and married) and Shawn doesn't even get past first dates. Also Shawn mentions that Gus had a talk a with him, so hey, it's canon).
From:
no subject
I didn't resolve things too well because I didn't know where I was taking things because I wrote it in your internt absence and I was kind of waiting to see whether this was even possible in your canon, so it was just scribbled in, like, twenty minutes.
Well, more like 25 because there was a lot of research for that throwaway bird case joke.
I want to flesh it out a bit more and maybe have Gus lose his confidence a little toward the end and run away or something like that, because you know that he would still scream like a girly man if he thought Lassi would kill him.
I want to leave Lassi speechless at the end still. I don't want him revealing ANYTHING to Gus and I want him to be too shocked to even respond coherently.
From:
no subject
He has a congential condition called a pectus excavatum, where his cartilage didn't grow at the correct speed when in utero. He has a "dent" in his chest. It looks like his chest wall is caving in. My daughter had the same condition, had the same surgery, although my son's dent is more pronounced. My husband has it, but never had his fixed. In the old days, they sawed through your ribs.
Nowadays, they go in under the armpits, make an incision, and then thread a steel lathe through and push OUT the cartilage. It stays in a couple of years as the cartilage "remolds." They like to do it when the kids are going through a growth spurt (hence as teenagers when their growth is so phenomenal). Daughter's surgery was a smashing success and no reason not to think this won't be, but, christ, everything's happening ALL AT ONCE!
From:
no subject
No actually, this would put a whole new spin on the stripper story, because we don't get Lassi's pov, other than his horniness, we can only guess what he's thinking, but if we know that Gus talked to him...even if he doesn't believe Gus, and yes, he'd be suspicious, he'd still wonder...
hmmm
From:
no subject
Of course, on the other hand, it's better than drawing it all out, I guess.
I am debating the porn because I don't want to end up doing something epic right now...and I do tend to turn things epic. But the idea is hot.
:)
From:
no subject
From:
no subject
Did you like Batman Begins?
From:
no subject
From:
no subject
Heath is pretty freaking brilliant though.