Disclaimer: covfefe
Rating: T because I always do T
Summary: this takes place IMMEDIATELY after S6 "Shawn Rescues Darth Vader." In that episode, as you recall (and if you don't recall, umm, SPOILER ALERT), the key character developments are that Lassiter tries to polygraph Juliet to get her to admit she's seeing Shawn; they fight and see Vick about splitting up, and Shawn declares he loves Juliet—and that he's psychic—in front of all the others while attached to the polygraph himself. We take a sharp turn from there, folks. As with my other vignettes, it's just an idea which popped up and demanded to be written out. (P.S. props to the unlogged in LisaG, who's been commenting her way through my stories, which prompted me to reread some myself and rekindled my interest in these characters.)
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Karen Vick sipped her coffee contemplatively, watching her top detective team through the half-closed blinds in her office.
Lassiter's dark head was down, his laptop angled so he faced the windows more than the bullpen. And across the hall, O'Hara was resolutely turned so she couldn't see him either.
Yesterday they'd wrapped up the Fanshawe case—not Karen's first involving a diplomat, but the first involving Shawn Spencer. Shivering a little at how well things had gone despite that, she reviewed in her head the other events of the case, along with a decision she'd been pondering all night long.
Certainly it was worth more thought. Certainly she shouldn't rush into anything.
But the players on her stage—Lassiter, O'Hara, Spencer—weren't going anywhere, and truth be told, she didn't want them to. Lassiter and O'Hara were excellent detectives, and even Spencer at his most annoying—which was pretty much all the time—usually got results, no matter how messy and convoluted and often embarrassing the process was.
Yet there was undeniably a mess here, and as the Chief of Police, she had multiple obligations to clean it up.
Stepping over to her phone, she called Lassiter at his desk. "Detective, please bring yourself and O'Hara into my office right now." Hanging up immediately, she sank into her chair, and had time for a few more sips of still-hot coffee before the two of them appeared.
"Close the door."
Lassiter did so, and he and his partner stood before her warily until Karen gestured for them to be seated.
They both looked tired, and she understood some of that wariness was between the two of them, not just because of her summons.
"A few days ago you came in here asking for new partners."
She missed neither the flash of irritation on O'Hara's face, nor the brief clenching of Lassiter's jaw.
"I told you no."
Nods.
"Well, I've changed my mind," she said briskly. "I realized there's both a larger problem to be solved, and a larger benefit to a split."
Pausing to take in their expressions—shock and dismay for O'Hara, stoniness from Lassiter belied by the shifting crystal blue of his eyes—she held up a hand when they both started to speak.
"You have worked very well together for a half dozen years, but it's clear to me—you may remember I'm a trained detective too, right?—that your partnership has been damaged significantly."
Both again tried to speak, and again she held up her hand.
"This is not the time to interrupt your supervisor."
"But Chief," O'Hara began anyway, and Karen shot her a glare. She fell quiet, but was restless, and glanced at Lassiter as if he could help.
He was staring at Karen.
"Lassiter, you're now partnered with Miller. O'Hara, you're with Dobson. This goes into effect on Monday morning. In addition, neither of you will be permitted to work cases involving Shawn Spencer again."
She eyed them both—each seemed frozen. "Do I need to explain why?"
Neither spoke.
She had another sip of coffee. To O'Hara, she said, "Dating." To Lassiter, she said simply, "Hating."
"I do not hate Spencer," he snapped. "I just think he's an ass."
"Duly noted," Karen said dryly. "Honestly, I just liked the rhyme. I will never defend Mr. Spencer's personality to anyone, and before you say one word, O'Hara, I also never want you to waste your breath or my time defending it either."
O'Hara, who in truth had not seemed to be about to defend him, was even more still than before.
Karen leaned back in her chair. "I've let this go on too long. He's disruptive, and he affects your ability to work together. I won't have that, because you're both too valuable to the department for that crap. But I also know that human beings simply can't always operate at their most mature levels in high-stress situations. I would rather have you do excellent work separately and outside of Spencer's zone of mayhem than have you constantly struggle to overcome this huge source of friction."
"Chief," O'Hara said, her voice small, and Karen gave permission for her to continue. "I don't want this. I don't think Carlton wants this either."
Karen gazed at Lassiter. He was back to impassive, not looking at O'Hara. "Well?"
He said more firmly—but still without looking at O'Hara, "I think we can work it out, Chief."
O'Hara nodded. "Yes, please."
Another sip of coffee. It was cooling too quickly.
"No."
Both started to speak—she cut them off once more.
"O'Hara, for whatever reason, you've chosen a romantic relationship with a paid consultant for the department, one you work with on a regular basis. I assume this is what you wanted to 'come clean' about the other day? And you remember I was right there during his polygraph to hear his dramatic declaration of love?"
The young woman flushed, and glanced down into her lap. Lassiter was Stonehenge.
"Spencer gets enough attention as it is for his grandstanding. I already take heat from City Hall about his behavior, often in the same conversation where someone's telling me to hire him for a case. I definitely do not need any questions about the propriety of one of my lead detectives dating him. Therefore, you're not going to work with him anymore. Period. As for you, Lassiter," she went on, turning her attention back to his stony expression, "you are too good at your job to allow yourself to be distracted and annoyed down to his playground level. I need you focused on your cases, not on his antics. Therefore, you're not going to work with him anymore either. And you're not going to work with each other—at least not for the foreseeable future—because whether it was his goal or not, he's managed to drive a wedge between you that I simply don't have time for you to tiptoe around. We have jobs to do. You both chose this career to solve crime. That, you'll keep doing. Just not with each other, and not with him."
Setting the mug down with a bit more force than she intended, she sat up straight and studied her team.
O'Hara's dark blue eyes were wide, and her hands clenched in her lap. Lassiter's crystal blue eyes were impossible to read, and he radiated tension from head to toe.
"Please," O'Hara said softly.
Lassiter glanced at her, and then back at Karen. "Chief. A chance."
Karen sighed. "You're dismissed. I'll talk to Miller and Dobson later, and after that, I'll explain to Henry that his son is no longer allowed access to any case associated with either of you, even if it means passing off your cases to other teams—and that's if I think we really need him, and to be frank, I'm going to make sure we don't need him for awhile. This place needs to settle down until everyone remembers why we're here and what we're supposed to be doing."
Lassiter swallowed.
O'Hara trembled. "How do we…" She took a breath. "How do we earn your trust back, Chief?"
"My trust?" Karen smiled. "Start by earning each other's trust back, O'Hara. I trust you're still good detectives. I trust you'll do as I say—or move on if you can't. That's all the trust you need from me, and it's unwavering. The problem is you don't trust each other anymore."
"We do," Lassiter said flatly.
"You lie, Lassiter. Not really to me, but to yourself. You distrusted her enough to try to polygraph her. She distrusted you enough—or so I assume—to conceal her relationship with Spencer in the first place. You both sat in those chairs a few days ago and gave off veritable sparks of anger and injury."
They did not look at each other. Karen recognized guilt and pain and worry in the set of their shoulders. So different were they, and yet so alike.
She stood up. "So you see it's not my trust that's at stake here. And I don't want any more time wasted while you two pussyfoot around each other and Spencer continually hammers that wedge in deeper. You want to be detectives? Then go finish up your joint cases and get ready for your new partners. You're dismissed," she repeated.
Neither moved. Both stared up at her. Both sets of blue eyes were searching, unsettled, imploring, uncertain…. everything at once.
"You're dismissed," she said a final time.
Lassiter stood up first, his gaze on the floor for a moment.
O'Hara followed slowly, and they turned toward the door.
Watching them leave, watching them head to their respective desks without speaking, Karen still felt certain this was the right course to take.
At least for now.
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