My lazy attempt at Shassie Week (aka, take a ol' good project, shake it and serve). Anyway, it's basically a collection of one-shots from the most sappy and fluffy depth of my heart, and I so dearly hope it could bring a little smile in your days too. Just like a chocolate cookie to melt on the tongue.

Same Old Things

Lassiter's gaze was cold blue stone. Noble, clear, but unyielding. Untamable. A gaze that promises restless chasing and a medieval knight's raw justice. Many criminals had broken down almost immediately under that look, spilled out years of mischief and crime, haunted by the simple judging of those eyes. But not Shawn. Never Shawn.

Of course, the effect would much improve if they weren't in the milk aisle of Walmart.

-Spencer- Lassie roared. -I told you clearly, clearly that we needed full –cream milk and toast bread.-

-And so I did.-

-You bought three packs of strawberry toothpaste, a pack of party napkins and a sack of jelly-O. And there's no trace of milk or bread.-

Some by-passers stopped to look. By then he was shaking a sack of carrots like a sledgehammer.

-Well, I just improved the shopping list.-

-You're such a rascal...! Guster told me so, but this is grotesque.-

-"Grotesque"? C'mon, this can't be a real word. And since when you and Gus gossip around like two old ladies?-

-Uh. Ah. I, he that's not the point. It's the principle.-

-Jeez, Lassie, quit it. You sounds like my dad now.-

-Because your father is an honest, probe man who knows when to buy milk.-

-I'm so not having this conversation.-

Lassie hissed. Shawn humfed.

-It's always the same. You can't do anything properly.-

-Well, if so I'm going to the DVDs. And I won't look at any History Channel promotion, Mister Lassiepants.-

-Good.-

-Good.-

-Fine.-

-Fine.-

-You can go.-

-I go.-

Shawn swirled around with a grimace, stomping away in the most dignified way possible.

Carlton let out a growled curse. The potatoes in his arms slipped and smashed on the floor. Spencer didn't look back.

The growl tinged with desperation.

A light touch brushed his sleeve, and he didn't even reach for his gun while turning. O'Hara would have been so proud.

The old woman behind him was smiling. Smiling at him, all the way from the thin cherry-tinted lips to the glittered spectacles to the arched eyebrows under backcombed hair.

-A quirky one you got, didn't you?-

Carlton didn't know how to answer. His ear tips flushed pink as he recalled his Mother's recommendation. Usually, elder ladies watched him with suspicion. Actually almost everyone watched him with suspicion.

-I, I apologize Ma'am. I'm deeply sorry you had to witness this awful occurrence.-

She was chuckling.

-Don't worry, suga'. It's all righty. Me and me ol' fella were always bickering like that, and fifty years we stayed together. Always rantin' and yapping and honking about nonsense. I do not regret a single day.-

Carlton smiled lightly, straightening his back. Even the potatoes seemed less important.

-Oh, I understand. Thank you for your support, ma'am. I know it could seem hard, but sometimes a man just had to put some rationality...-

The lady awkwardly patted his hand. -Actually, Suga', it was me the one rantin'.-