capeandcowllogs | ALL I WANNA DO IS BANG BANG BANG

WHO: Lassiter and Shawn; OPEN, too, if you'd like to join in go ahead and make a new thread~
WHERE: Police gun range
WHEN: Friday evening
WARNINGS: Gratuitous gun handling
SUMMARY: FOR THE COMING TIMES LASSITER WANTS SHAWN TO LEARN HOW TO USE A GUN, SURPRISES ENSUE
FORMAT: Parastartthenwhatever

Lassiter was an overly cautious and paranoid man, but he at least took pride that he wasn't absolutely militant and was rushing out to buy every firearm he could just in case this whole HIVE thing blew out of control in a drop of a pin. But he wasn't going to be unprepared, either, and he especially wasn't going to have Shawn be unprepared, either. He knew he had at least one power that was good and destructive, but Lassiter would feel a great sense of relief know that Shawn could handle a piece if he ever needed to, and that if Lassiter taught him how he would have learned from the best.

They stood in the police gun range, a fresh target already at the end of the way waiting to be murdered and a gun waiting on the counter. He held out a nice pair of goggles and earplugs as he started up on his lecture, "Now, the first thing to guns is showing them respect, Spencer, you understand? They're harbingers of peace, but of death as well, and you don't go fooling around with them."

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He stood there for a time, so many conflicting feelings coursing through him, from shock to extreme attraction, but it all expressed itself through gawking and silence.

He finally hemmed awkwardly, straightened his tie, and said petulantly over the ringing in his ears, "Yeah, well, I bet you can't juggle guns."

...Shawn shot him a sideways glare. "I think I'll live, Lassifrass."

He misinterpreted Shawn's glare and decided to be the bigger man and say in a bit of awe, hopefully to assuage the sudden aggravation in the air, "That was, err, you know, pretty astounding."

As long as Lassiter wasn't going to be mentioning anything even vaguely alluding to his time as a clown going through clown school, he can flatter Shawn all he liked. ~~Seriously, anything alluding to clowns just shriveled little Shawn right up.~~

He picked out the ear plugs and placed all the gun toting supplies on the counter. Brushing off his hands, he looked to Lassie and smiled, eyebrows raised. "Really, Lassie? Do I ASTOUND you?"

He looked sheepish, a step away from kicking the ground with his foot. "Yes," he admitted grudgingly, eyes roving back to the gun. He tried to will Shawn to pick it back up and shoot it again.

"I assume your dad taught you?" he asked, trying to be casual.

Of course, Lassiter couldn't actually chalk up an accomplishment with Shawn's own doing. His expression faltered a little at the mention of his dad. Shrugging his shoulders, he responded--quite honestly, "That's good ol' Henry. Teaching his twelve year old how to shoot a round."

Lassiter knew the father and son weren't exactly Andy Griffith level of family love, but Shawn's true issues were still lost to him. He shrugged, too, "My dad started teaching me younger than that, but," he paused and admitted somewhat poutily, "took me until the academy to be as good as I am. I've never even seen you shoot before, do you go to a gun range and practice in Santa Barbara or something? Do you practice often? We can practice together." Now he was gushing excitedly.

"I don't like--" Guns? That would break Lassiter's heart. He wavered and stepped aside. "I'm not a holding-fire arms type, Inspector. I'll leave that to the professionals."

As impressive as Shawn had just been with a piece, Lassiter's reasonable side said it was probably for the best. "I suppose you have a point. Besides, I'd hate to see what 'psychic' fits you'd have with a gun as a prop."

Though it disheartened him a little that Shawn could do all that so easily without seemingly having to practice often--Okay, Carlton, no, you can't get pouty over your significant other's ability with a gun, that would be the stupidest thing to break up over.

Instead, he gave him a grin and nudged him with an elbow, "Well, at least I know I can bring you to the gun ranges now! Maybe it can be our Tuesday night thing."

"Hey, I know proper gun safety!" Shawn needed to wave something to prove a point. He felt that need surging up in him. His hands scrambled over the gun he previously deposited and waved it over his head.

And then his arm lowered at 'Tuesday night thing'. "Lassie, I don't want to damage your self-esteem anymore than I already have."

His brow furrowed and he snatched the gun away from him, muttering, "Give me that, moron."

He replaced the gun back on the counter and pursed his lips a little at his reply. "Every other Tuesday night thing?" he offered as compromise.

ALL I WANNA DO IS BANG BANG BANG

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