A/N: Alright so I got inspiration for this after reading up on Irish mythology. It was really cool! I hope you enjoy!

Warning: This is a Lassitet established fic! Also spoilers and quotes from Psych episode High Noon-ish and Luck of the Irish.

Disclaimer: All television shows, movies, books, songs, and other copyright material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual. In short, I own nothing!

Coming out of the hot Santa Barbara sun, Shawn Spencer and Burton "Gus" Guster came inside of the much appreciated air conditioned Santa Barbara Police Department after a rather tough case wrap up.

•••

The case involved an arrest of a husband, named Randy, who killed his wife and mother in law. However, Randy had four brothers who took great offense to the psychic revelations and the arrest. Thus, a huge fight commences between Randy and four brothers against Lassiter and O'Hara. Things turn for the worse after O'Hara gets hit in the face by one of the brothers named Mason. Which led to Lassiter going on a rampage. The lanky Irish detective surprised everyone as he single handedly and pretty viciously subdued Randy and his four brothers. Needless to say, once backup arrived Randy and three brothers were on their way to SBPD and Mason was on his way to Santa Barbara Cottage Hospital.

•••

Back at the station two hours later, Juliet-who was nursing a pretty nasty bruise on her cheek- past Shawn and Gus as they waited on the bench outside Vick's office for an approval for their list of expenses. As Juliet lingered by the coffee she heard Shawn and Gus rehashing the day's events.

"Dude, who would've thought Randy and his brothers were all that crazy. I mean sure they lived up to a stereotypical biker family-gang thing but still. Isn't science supposed to explain this kind of stuff by now?"

"I don't know Shawn...I don't think their profession has any particular merit on their personal choices. And besides, as far as science has brought us it still hasn't come up with answers to what is consciousness? How Many Species of Animal Exist?" He paused for dramatic effect and asked, "Are we alone in the universe?"

"Agree to agree. But you know something else science can't explain." Gus pursed his lips as he shrugged and looked expectantly at his best friend. "The amount of righteous beat down-age Lassie brought down on them! I mean seriously didn't Lassie look like the male heroes Disney makes up. Like Hercules...but more grumpy and Irish. No no better yet, like a cooler RoboCop?"

"That first comparison doesn't make any sense. Besides you do realize that Disney based that movie on the actual mythological tale right?" Shawn stared at him for a moment then responded with an innocent shrug, "I've heard it both ways."

"No you haven't. And besides, if anything Lassiter's more like Cú Chulainn."

Shawn tsked at his friend, saying "Come on son! I know that you know that you made that up. Huh, that sounded catchy. Maybe we can make a song out it!"

Gus ignored most of that and went on saying, "No no Shawn. Cú Chulainn was a mythological Irish hero known for his beserk like rage and Hulk like transformation on the battle field."

"So what's Chimichanga mean in English? Angry leprechaun?"

"Cú Chulainn actually means Hound of Chulainn."

"So what you're really saying is that, I'm not far off with the name Lassie."

Now it was Gus' turn to scoff. "Come on son! You know what I mean. And besides, after what we saw today, I never want to see Lassiter in an uncontrollable rage. We need to be careful."

"Oh Gus...don't be a paranoid schizophrenic. Lassie loves us! Regardless of all his bluster, he would nev-"

Before Shawn could finish his statement, Lassiter stalked up barking at them "Spencer! Guster! The next time I find out you two have changed my bank account numbers... no one will be able to save you from me. Got it."

At the dangerous tone the older man used both consultants rushed out of the department (completely forgetting why they were originally there in the first place). As they were catching their breath at the bottom of the steps, Shawn asked, "So," he huffed, "Tell me again... about the Cumulative Clan?" "Cú Chulainn Shawn! Ugh, why do I bother."

"I dunno. Want a Taco massage?"

"You know that's right."

•••

Back inside the station, Juliet had made her way back to her desk with some much needed coffee. As she sat down she couldn't help but compare Cú Chulainn to her partner. Cú Chulainn's physical description varies but constants includes his course hair that was brown at the base and gold-ish red throughout the rest, seven pupils in each eye, seven fingers on both hands, and quite muscular. (And this was not even his Hulk-like transformation!)

In contrast, her partner had soft black hair that had specs of grey littered lightly throughout. His eyes were almost supernaturally blue with their ever changing shade (depending on his mood). His calloused hands were proportionally large. His arms and torso and legs were surprisingly muscular! The image of him getting dressed always caused her to turn a pretty impressive shade of red. And right now was no different.

Juliet forced herself to calm down once Henry cast his hyper observant gaze her way. The Consultant Advisor turned away once she gave him a glare that rivaled Lassiter's.

Returning to her inner comparisons. She realized that the epic warrior and her partner did have a few similarities. They were both extremely bad-tempered, ability to cause fear in others, can be quite arrogant at times, extremely courageous, highly devoted, fantastic combat prowess, and unshakable bravery.

They are more alike in the ways that mattered, Juliet thought.

At that moment, the Chief's voice snapped the younger woman out of her thoughts. "Detective O'Hara where are Mr. Spencer and Mr. Guster?"

Before Juliet could answer Henry piped up from his desk, "Lassiter scared the living crap out of 'em and they took off." Chief Vick regarded him and then shook her head wearily. It's been a long day for everyone.

Turning back to O'Hara, "Inform your partner that the both of you are to take the rest of the week off."

"Alright Chief."

"See to it that Detective Lassiter doesn't try to sneak in over the weekend."

"Of course Chief." With that Chief Vick went retreated back to her office.

After a few minutes of closing out some tabs on her computer, Juliet finally pulled out her phone and sent a text to Carlton.

Hey. Where are you?

Juliet only had to wait a few seconds as his reply buzzed in:

Down stairs in the gun range. I'm still pissed that scumbag put his hands on you.

Hey I'm not to happy about it either. But it's apart of the job. We both know this Carlton. Regardless, Vick is sending us home for the rest of the week.

But It's only Tuesday!

I know isn't it great!

A moment of silence before his reply came back: I think you've forgotten who you're talking to O'Hara...

No I don't think so...especially not after yesterday ;)

You're trying to give me a heart attack aren't you!

Only if I the one who's going to give you the kiss of life X)

I'm not entirely sure that's how CPR works in that situation. But I get your point anyway.

Before she could respond he sent another text that made her want to throttle.

In all seriousness though O'Hara, why don't you head on home and I'll take care of some stuff here. We've got a lot of work left to do. It's probably best if I stay while you recuperate.

No what's best for you -your health especially-is that you'd better come get your bruised Scottish lass and take her home for an early dinner or the potato famine is going to look better and better for you Head Detective! (This goes for the rest of the week as well.)

Ar mo bhealach. Meet me by the car.

Juliet smiled at the text, gathered her things, and left with a spring in her step. As she bounded down the steps, Juliet saw that her Irishman was already there. "Not that I'm complaining but how'd you get here so fast?"

Lassiter smirked saying, "The only thing that matters is that I know not to mess with or keep an armed so called Scotswoman waiting."

"So called?! I'll have you know my family and I are proud to have descended from a great number of Scotts no matter what you say," she exclaimed as she got into his Ford Fusion.

As he got in and started the car, Lassiter responded with an Irish lilt, "O'Hara please your blood is as green as the Shamrock and your ancestors came from the Emerald Isle."

His Irish lilt made her gooey in all the right places. However before she could make a rebuttal, Lassiter continued in his Irish lilt saying, "Besides the phrase 'kiss me I'm Irish' rolls off the tongue better."

Juliet simply stared at him for a moment before throwing her head laughing all the way home.

An Deireadh

Translations:

ar mo bhealach=on my way

an deireadh=the end