Speed trap (for det_lassiter)

[head_psychic]

Dinner didn't really work out.

There had been worse situations in the past, sure, it wasn't that much of a big deal, just the usual stuff about disappointment and losing at life. Nothing new, so maybe he shouldn't complain but he feels like complaining. In fact he is complaining over and over again.

In his head, that is, because he has left the scene of the fight long ago.

Shawn doesn't even remember what started it. When he thinks back he has to admit that it had been a nice evening actually. They had been sitting together, eating, talking, then one little side remark, then a harmless retort, another retort and suddenly he an Henry were yelling at each other to the point where Shawn grabbed his helmet and stormed out of the door.

Ahh, yes, gotta love family.

Needless to say that he isn't in a particularly good mood when he erratically races the area but the well-known hum and the speed of his motorcycle soon has the calming effect he aims for he definitely needs right now.

Comments

[det-lassiter.livejournal.com]

Lassiter can feel his eyebrows steadily rise. Oh, this is too good. It’s pretty predictable, to be honest, and fairly normal Spencer behaviour. But, if this was a stranger, this would be enough excuse to use the cuffs and haul them off their feet, which is exactly what Lassiter intends to do now.

“You need to learn some kind of lesson about respecting the law,” he mutters lowly as he fishes out his handcuffs. “Obviously, your dad has failed to teach you it, so let me try.”

He knows it’s a power trip as he yanks Spencer’s arms behind his back to click the cuffs on, but he’s feeling better already. He ignores the jibes about Brownie Points, he’s just doing this for himself.

“Come on, off the bike.” He takes a firm hold of Spencer’s upper arm to help steady him. “You have the right to remain silent, please feel free to exercise that right at any time…”

[head-psychic.livejournal.com]

Shawn gasps at the sudden yank and gives a small whimper (which he would have argued to be a 'small sound of surprise') at the cold sensation on his wrists. His lips form a thin line when he presses them together, resisting the urge to throw his head back and growl in annoyance, which, in return, leads to another whimper - sound of surprise - when he is hauled off the motorcycle.

"I know my rights," he snaps and decides for himself that this day officially sucks. Not that it hadn't sucked before but Shawn feels like making it official. He's had his fair share of "learn your lesson" tonight. Besides, he can tell Lassiter is clearly enjoying this so the detective doesn't have to come up with this bullshit.

Shawn knows it's stupid - primarily because he's already cuffed - but he can't help the anger burning up. It's just too many triggers at once, too many remains of frustration from earlier tonight that make him squirm and struggle, resisting the attempt to get him anywhere near the car.

[det-lassiter.livejournal.com]

Grunting with annoyance, Lassiter tightens his grip on Spencer’s arm. Is he really annoyed, though? Surely he knew that Spencer would react in this way, he’d been counting on it, hadn’t he?

“Do you think this is going to do you any good?” he growls against the so called psychic’s ear. “I can carry you, you know I can.”

To prove his point, he slings his arm’s around Spencer’s waist, linking his hands together in front of him and leaning back to get he leverage sweep the man off the ground. It’s not easy, carrying a squirming man even the few feet between the two vehicles. He should have remembered that from the last time. It would have been easier to have just forced him to walk ahead of him with a tight grip to the back of his neck. However, he likes it this way; he likes the authority it gives him. Although others may say that it’s a sign that he’s lost control of the situation if he has to carry a detainee to the car, he can’t deny the rush he gets in the knowledge that he can carry Spencer, that he’s strong enough to knock him off his feet.

Reaching the car, he places a firm hand over Spencer’s head and pushes him down, shoving him in at the same time. He’s careful to make sure that he doesn’t hit his head on the frame, though. Do that a second time and he’d have to stop pretending that it was accidental and admit that he enjoyed it.

[head-psychic.livejournal.com]

When Lassiter pushes him into the car Shawn feels like kicking. Just like a horse, backwards, maybe being lucky enough to hit the detective's knee. Oh, he'd like that. A lot. Yes, he's angry, he feels like an eighteen-year-old kid that has REBEL written all over his forehead.

Mirror-inverted, because he didn't know better.

The only reason he doesn't do it is because he's not stupid. Or maybe it's just that he doesn't want to give Lassiter the satisfaction of giving him even more reasons to do all this stuff. Hitting a detective? God, Shawn really doesn't need to end up in-...

Whoa. Wait a second.

Surely Lassiter isn't going to put him into a holding cell, right?

He doesn't like that thought. Not one bit of it.

Shawn glares up at Lassiter, looks at him, eager to stare a hole in his body if he has to. He wishes nothing more than to find something, anything that at least gives him the satisfaction to get back at the detective. If he can't keep him from dragging, carrying him to the car he can at least try to piss him off.

"Must have been a pretty bad day if you need to be the big man so badly. Just because you don't wear the pants at home anymore doesn't mean you have to show them off to me."