WARNING: for a scene of attempted rape and drug use...kinda...

Unfortunately, rape crimes weren't at all uncommon, especially in California. After the third victim, it was decided that they officially had a serial rapist in Santa Barbara. Four victims in total in only three months, all of whom were male and contained traces of GHB in their system. The first two were found dead from an overdose of the drug. The third was able to fend off his attacker, but hadn't been able to describe the man due to his blurred vision from the drug. And the latest victim was currently in a coma.

All in all, Carlton wasn't having a fun time. O'Hara was taking vacation time in Miami, which meant he was virtually on this case alone. With no leads, since everyone at each club claimed quite clearly that they 'ain't seen notin' man!', Vick decided that it was time to call in the local fraud.

Thus was how Carlton found himself sitting at the end of a bar at the club where two of the attacks happened. It was rather difficult, trying to keep the glare on his face, to ward off unwanted attention; scope the club for suspicious activity...well, besides the rather obvious suspicious activities; and keep an eye on Shawn at all times, as the younger man flirted with every person that walked by. Going undercover was never particularly fun for him, but this...this was pure torture.

Carlton watched as Shawn headed for the dance floor with his fifth partner in the past two hours. ...Not that he was keeping track or anything of course.

When he returned to his seat, Carlton saw that there was a new man sitting next to him, and watched as Shawn, once again, flirted carelessly. To be honest, he was starting to think the man was a bit of a slut. But then he saw how the stranger watched Shawn closely as he sipped his drink, and how he leaned in to whisper something that had Shawn himself blushing. The fake psychic took another slow sip of his martini, before looking up to meet Carlton's eyes in a somewhat worried manner.

This continued for ten minutes or so, with Shawn keeping the man interested and Carlton trying to figure out a way to get the man into custody without causing a scene. He'd just called the chief to send a car to the club when something diverted his attention. Carlton's hand instinctively went for his pistol hidden under his shirt when he heard shouting over the loud music to his left. He sighed in relief when he looked over to see it was just a simple scuffle. The bouncers took care of it before he even had to think about getting involved.

He rolled his eyes slightly, then turned back to the scene playing out with Shawn and the stranger. Only to find Shawn's more than half-empty glass and two vacant bar stools. It took a few moments of scanning the immense crowd, but he finally found Shawn...being led out of the back entrance.

"Damn it," He cursed under his breath. Shawn could be an idiot, but he wasn't that stupid. Which meant they'd found their man. Which meant Shawn was drugged and in the hands of a rapist.

His heart rate sped-up as he tried to follow the pair, though pushing through the dance floor proved more than a challenge. He had to fend off the instinct to punch whoever kept trying to grab his ass. Getting to Shawn was more important than his pride at the moment.

Once he got out of the building and into the side alley, he heard what he really wasn't sure he wanted to hear.

"Hey, cut i' out..." It was Shawn.

"Fuck, would you stop squirming!" Carlton took out his gun and quietly made his way to the back of the building.

"Ya shoul'n't be doin' tha... 's public inda- indes-... 's bad." He'd barely had two drinks. Shawn should not be slurring his words like that.

"...Hope I got the fucking dose right this time..."

The last part was muttered just before Carlton rounded the corner. The stranger had just gotten Shawn's pants unbuckled and was pressing against him. Shawn, who was leaning heavily against the wall with his eyes closed, had a slightly pained look on his face.

"Freeze." Carlton commanded in a calm, cold voice and raised his gun. He pushed down the surprisingly fierce anger that rose inside him as the stranger's panicking eyes reached his.

The stranger pulled Shawn in front of him with some difficulty as the drugged man stumbled and moaned at being moved so quickly. "Don't try anything," He said as he pulled out a knife and pressed it against Shawn's neck.

"Put the knife down and let him go."

He was mostly likely about tell Carlton to go to hell, before Shawn sagged against the criminal, boneless. Shawn pulled him down slightly, as the stranger tried to keep his human shield upright. Carlton didn't hesitate and took the wing shot Shawn had opened for him. The man cried out in pain and fell to the ground, the faux psychic dragging him down. Carlton walked over, knocked the knife from his weak grip, added a particularly fierce kick to the ribs after a semi-second of consideration, and pulled Shawn away from the rapist.

Shawn looked up at him and furrowed his brow as Carlton brought him to sit against the building. "You.." He paused and looked at him suspiciously. "Are not a leprechaun."

Carlton raised both eyebrows. "Why the hell would you think I was?"

"Why would I think you weren't?"

Carlton refused to resort to pulling his hair out. He kept an eye on the rapist, who was staring in shock at the bullet wound in his shoulder, while he called the PD to tell them to send a medic as well as the squad car.

"You shot me!"

He glared down at the man on the ground. "You're surprised?" There was no response as the man continued to look at his bleeding wound. He sighed the same time the stranger moaned and Shawn giggled.

After ten minutes, the detective wasn't sure who he wanted to shoot more, the psychic or the criminal.

He was standing, leaning against the wall next to a sitting Shawn, who refused to let go of his leg no matter how many times he kicked at the drugged man. The rapist, now known as John Lewis thanks to his wallet, was across from them in the alley, moaning in pain. The officers better get here within the next minute, or he'd have to explain why both the victim and the criminal were dead.

"Seriously, this is a lot of blood man!"

Carlton rolled his eyes. "Seriously, I really don't care."

"Meanie leprechaun." Carlton resisted the urge to kick Shawn again, who was snuggling into his thigh.

'Thank God!' He thought when he heard the familiar sound of sirens.

"Detective Lassiter?" The officers called once they reached the building.

"Back here." He pointed his gun at the criminal. "You. Up." Two officers came from the side alley and stared at the scene. "Take him," He nodded at John, "and have one of the medics clean him up, then bring him to the station."

The officers did as they were told while Carlton looked down at Shawn and sighed. He reached down and picked him up, supporting Shawn by the waist. "Wow..." The other man leaned in close to Carlton, 'till they were almost nose to nose. "Pretty eyes..."

Carlton almost dropped Shawn in shock, but he pushed down the flush that threatened to take over his face. He took Shawn around the building and to the ambulance out front, ignoring the crowd that had started to gather. It didn't take much to force the fake psychic to sit in the ambulance. Carlton turned to the second medic, the first cleaning John's wound.

"He has GHB and alcohol in his system. We'll need a urine sample for evidence and he should probably spend the night at the hospital for observation."

"Detective!" Carlton went over to the first medic, leaving the second to deal with Shawn's rambles about clowns and pineapple. A young woman was leaning over John, cleaning his wound. She looked up when he came to the squad car. "This man's going to have to be brought in for surgery. The slug's imbedded into his clavicle."

'Explains why he was crying so much,' Carlton thought, almost joyfully.

"And," She straightened up and shot him a suspicious look. "He may have a fractured rib or two."

He averted his eyes for a second before explaining calmly, "He put up a struggle."

"Point is, you did a bang-up job on him."

"Well, he'll have to wait for another ambulance. A civilian was-"

Shawn's head appeared next to his, grinning as he rested his chin on Carlton's shoulder. "I want your lucky charms."

"I'm not a leprechaun Spencer." He forced his voice to remain calm.

Shawn took on a semi-thoughtful expression, minus actual thinking. "Are you sure?"

"Quite," He ground out before dragging Shawn back to the ambulance. "Shouldn't you be off to the hospital by now?"

The second medic looked at him frightfully. "Uh...he's refusing medical attention sir." He sent a nervous smile at Carlton while Shawn giggled.

"Refusing-...so?!"

"Well, i-if someone explicitly states that they don't want our help, by law, we're not allowed to touch them. We'd be charged with assault."

"...He's high!"

The young man looked terrified, but Carlton was beyond caring. "H-he was coherent enough t-to answer my questions so..."

Carlton growled and took Shawn's hand out of his pocket, who was apparently looking for his 'lucky charms'. "What about the sample?"

The medic blushed. "...He gave it quite willingly sir."

"I had to pee," Shawn nodded and smiled at Carlton, who grabbed Shawn's hand from his pocket again.

"How nice." He turned back to the medic. "What the hell am I supposed to do with him then?"

"Uh, well he shouldn't be left alone."

"Obviously." Carlton smacked Shawn's hand away.

The young man shrugged. "Just find someone to take care of him for the next twenty-four hours."