Title: Hypothermia
Fandom: Psych
Characters: C. Lassiter and S. Spencer
A/N: Okay, so I kind of stole this idea from OTP_100 (prompt #063. Heat) because I'm doing it for Two-Bit/Steve from The Outsiders and Don/Danny from CSI: NY. However, I might be switching out Don/Danny for Shawn/Lassiter. We'll see how this goes first.

And the slash here is sooo little, if you blink, you miss it. If you didn't have a slashy mind, you'd totally miss it.

Detective Lassiter always knew hypothermia was extremely dangerous. The low body temperature was threatening to anyone. Usual grogginess, visual distortion, shivering, and a paleness to the face along with the smaller features, nose and ears and lips, turning a pale blue were very common symptoms after the first few minutes of the condition. No one could escape it. Not even Shawn Spencer, psychic or not.

Even though Lassiter forgot how they got to the Santa Maria River, and that he did not have a single clue as to how Spencer even managed to beat everyone, including Guster, there, all he was worried about at that single moment was the fact that their criminal, Bryant, had the psychic by his arm and a blade was pressed cleanly to his throat. Spencer was smiling, a painful one, joking and trying to distract and persuade the man. O'Hara, Guster, even Lassiter took their turns persuading, only Bryant laughed a hearty laugh, as if they told him a joke. As he laughed, he moved for the edge of the bridge. He was going to jump, Lassiter thought, suddenly. The fingers on his free hand began to work the buttons on his suit jacket, his gun still eyelevel with the man.

And he was right. Bryant's arms quickly grabbed Shawn up, jumping clean over the edge of the bridge, the psychic uttering a small yell of protest as he did. O'Hara moved to follow the two in to the water, but Lassiter had already shed his jacket and gun belt, shoving them in to Gus' arms, and pealed his shoes off. O'Hara managed to stop him for a moment, just to see if they would appear. After a minute, Lassiter jumped. He was over the edge before Gus had any time to protest.

O'Hara waited anxiously, glancing from Gus to the water and back a few times. The water was shallow and the bridge was high. The chances of Shawn and Lassiter emerging unscathed were slim to none. Soon a single body floated up, the current whisking it against the gravel and rocks of the river bank. It was Bryant's, O'Hara decided, which only scared her more.

"There!" Gus voiced, pointing a shaking finger to the opposite edge of the river where two other bodies had just appeared.

Lassiter had Shawn around the armpits, hoisting him on to the river bank before lugging himself out. He breathed heavily, holding a hand to his chest and squinting his eyes. Then he glanced over to where Bryant had washed up, then up to the bridge where O'Hara and Gus still stood. He gestured for them to go after their perpetrator, who had just let out a low groan. He was still alive and needed to be taken in. O'Hara nodded and turned Gus around to head in the direction.

Shawn was beginning to shiver, Lassiter noticed. He was shivering pretty heavily. Well, the water was pretty cold. The weatherman mentioned temperatures being down below ten today*, so that clearly affected the water. Besides, Shawn was a whole lot skinnier than him and the water would make his body temperature shrink that much faster. He was just glad the guy was breathing.

"Spencer," Lassiter breathed, shaking the psychic. "Come on, sit up."

"Lassie?" Shawn asked, his voice heavy but barely above a whisper. He continued to shake, attempting to do what the detective asked before wrapping his arms around his torso and curling up on the ground. "God damn, why am I…"

Lassiter placed his hand on Shawn's face, feeling how cold his skin was. Cursing, he grabbed Shawn and pulled him up, wrapping his long arms around the smaller man. Shawn let out a shaky chuckle as Lassiter maneuvered them. He put Shawn's face in to the crook of his neck, leaning his cheek on Shawn's head, and pulled Shawn until he was flush against his body. He ran his hands up and down over the psychic's back and arms, creating friction to keep Shawn warm. Heat. Heat was good.

"All this because I took a swim, hm?" Shawn teased, his hands resting on Lassiter's back.

"Spencer, you're shivering. You managed to take a swim in next to freezing water… in California." Even to him, it sounded impossible.

"Just my luck," Shawn breathed with a hint of amusement in his voice.

Each time Shawn spoke, Lassiter felt cold lips brush against his skin, which sent shivers down his spine. He kept his eyes on the bridge, his ears open, waiting for any signs or sounds of the SBPD showing up. He glanced at where Bryant had washed up on the bank, seeing O'Hara and Gus standing there. O'Hara was on her phone and Gus was watching with a sick expression on his face. Lassiter laughed; Gus never really handled blood or bodies well.

Soon the sirens could be heard. Luckily, Shawn wasn't as cold as when he first was pulled out of the river. Lassiter let out a sigh, shifting a little. Shawn had stopped shivering, but made no movement to pull away from the pepper-haired detective. Actually, he kind of moved closer and snuggled a little more.

"Spencer," Lassiter said, shaking his shoulder a little. "Come on, the guys are here."

Shawn groaned a little, wrapping his arms further around Lassiter. The detective groaned and began working on removing the man from his waist.

(break)

Lassiter was warm and dry, and he figured that he enjoyed this a whole lot more than sitting on that river bank with Shawn wrapped around his waist and stealing heat. He walked through the precinct, fixing his tie and smoothing down his fresh, dry shirt. Yeah, this was much better.

The psychic had already been and gone, getting his check and his thanks and quickly leaving for dry clothes and a nap, as he had put it. Gus was in his 'mother' mode, fussing over Shawn and saying he should get checked out by a doctor. Shawn was as stubborn as ever, saying that the paramedics already took care of it and that if 'Lassifrass' was alright, then he was, too. They left arguing.

But Lassiter really didn't care. He had work do to. So he plopped right down in his desk where a stack of papers were waiting for him very patiently. As he was rummaging through his desk drawers, O'Hara walked up to the desk, holding her own stack of papers. Her mouth opened and closed a few times, like she was trying to process something. Lassiter glanced at her, a small wondering glare on his face.

"What?"

"You have a… something on your neck," she said, pointing at the reddened spot on his neck.

Lassiter narrowed his eyes in confusion. A red spot? He sat up and touched his neck. Heat. A spot on his neck was rather hot to the touch. It might have been a reaction to something. "It's probably nothing."

O'Hara was grinning now, like she had figured out some joke. Again, Lassiter looked at her as she began digging in her pocket for something. She pulled out a compact mirror of some sort, flicked it open and showed Lassiter. He glanced at his neck in it, glaring at the offending spot and touching it again.

"Lassiter… you have a hickey."

* - So the time frame of this is late November. The temperature outside managed to drop to about 8 degrees Celcius (46.4 degrees Fahrenheit) and the water is about 6 degrees Celcius (42.8 degrees Fahrenheit). So, yeah. Cold water. And with Shawn being tiny and Lassiter having more muscle and fat on him, Lassiter doesn't feel the affects of the water as quickly as Shawn does. When Lassiter decides to help keep Shawn warm, he's also inadvertantly keeping himself warm and fending off his own hypothermia.