"Just wait till you see the room I booked for us," Shawn says excitedly, putting his arm around Juliet's shoulders as they walk across the parking lot, luggage in tow. "It's gunna be fresh to death."
"Fresh to death?" Juliet laughs incredulously.
"Only the best for you, sweetheart," he insists, kissing the top of her head. Now that they were out of Santa Barbara, public displays of affection were warranted, and Shawn was taking advantage of it. In the forty minutes that they had been out of the city, he hadn't taken his hands off of her (not that she was complaining).
Juliet takes both of their luggage while Shawn checks in. The hotel lobby has vaulted ceilings and an extremely impressive chandelier hanging from it. She hadn't expected Shawn to pick something so fancy- she had been prepared for a grungy motel in the middle of nowhere within walking distance from the nearest pizza place. She overhears something about two beds, which concerns her a little bit, but she knows Shawn, and she knows how much he likes to cuddle at night, so she just assumes that it's some kind of mistake. Although, obviously he isn't himself at the moment so maybe it is true.
Shawn hands her a room key, interrupting her internal conflict over the number of beds that are going to be in the hotel room. Is Gus going to spend the night with them? Or worse, Henry? She got along with him well enough, but not enough to spend the night with him. And even if she did, the horror stories from Shawn about his father were enough for her to be a bit wary around him.
Maybe she's being shallow. So what if he doesn't want to sleep with her? She shouldn't push him if he's uncomfortable for whatever reason, and besides, they could still have fun without sleeping together.
But then again, she can have expectations, right?
"Jules," Shawn says, cupping her cheek. "What's the matter?"
"Nothing," she insists, reaching up and covering his hand with hers. "This is incredible, Shawn."
"Wait till you see the room," Shawn says excitedly, a grin spreading across his face. He takes her hand and practically skips down the hallway. At a five star hotel.
"You keep saying that," she says, struggling to keep up at a normal pace with their luggage and in heels.
He opens the door, revealing that there are two beds. Two twin sized beds. As much as she hates herself for it, her stomach flops.
"Relax, honey," Shawn says, holding the door open for her. "We're still going to sleep together, we'll push the beds together."
"Why did you get two beds then?" she asks, setting the luggage on the floor and taking her heels off.
"Change into your pyjamas and you'll find out," Shawn says, unzipping his duffel bag and pulling out a pair of pyjama pants with a pineapple pattern on them and an old t-shirt.
"Shawn, it's five-thirty," she says, her patience slipping. "We're not eighty years old, and we don't go to bed at five-thirty, and we don't sleep in separate beds."
"Jules, relax," he insists. "It's going to make sense in like two minutes, just put your pyjamas on and I'll explain everything."
"Fine," she mutters, going into her suitcase and getting her pyjamas out.
When she comes out of the washroom, he's standing on the bed, bouncing up and down.
"Shawn, what are you doing?" she asks, crossing her arms.
"Right now?" Shawn asks. "Well, I'm circulating five litres of blood every minute, thinking about a case we solved last week, and also, I'm craving brownies. Not the pot kind, but just a good, fresh-out-of-the-oven brownie."
"I meant the bed, Shawn. What are you doing on the bed?" Juliet clarifies, rubbing the back of her neck.
"Oh, that," Shawn says. He stops bouncing and looks down at the bed, as if just realizing that he was there. "We're gunna play the floor is lava."
Juliet stares at him for a minute. Over the years, she's known him to make some pretty wild decisions, they are often elaborate and come from nowhere, and get out of hand if it isn't taken control of. However, this idea, stands alone in it's own category. She's not sure if it's crazy, or weird, or just spontaneous.
"We're playing the floor is lava," Juliet repeats slowly, trying to process the idea. "At a five star hotel."
"Yeah, what's the problem?" Shawn asks, extending his arms to her. "Jules, we're on vacation, loosen up a little!"
She hesitates before she takes Shawn's hands and climbs up onto the bed. Despite the idea being totally random, it's nice to let loose for a bit and embrace her inner child, like Shawn does all the time.
"Isn't this a Gus thing?" she asks, letting him loop his arms around her waist. When they had first started dating, the three of them had sat down and made a very specific Venn diagram of the activities that they could do with each other to avoid jealousy (another one of Shawn's radical ideas).
Things like solving crimes and kissing, or both at the same time, were exclusively Juliet things. Bad decisions, like making a tight-rope in the Psych office, were Shawn things that would eventually involve Gus, and maybe Juliet if she was nearby. Movie marathons would go in the middle of the diagram, and they had them every time that Jules was off work on a Friday night. And she specifically remembers that shenanigans that could potentially end up with getting in trouble, like this one, were exclusively Gus things.
"The hand holding and kissing makes it a Jules thing," he assures, kissing her on the cheek to make his point.
"I guess I can't argue with that," she says, looping her arms around his neck. "Let me guess what's for supper, grilled cheese sandwiches?"
"I was actually thinking lobster, but I like your idea better," Shawn agrees. Then, he pulls away from their embrace and starts jumping on the bed.
"You're ridiculous," Juliet laughs as he jumps to the other bed. She follows suit, but then he's walking onto the nightstand and moving to jump onto the chair.
"Come on Jules, the lava is going to get you if you don't hurry," Shawn taunts. So she climbs from the ottoman onto the television stand.
"Are we going to build a pillow fort too?" she asks, watching Shawn try to balance on top of the table in the corner.
"Jules, that is the best idea I have ever heard in my life, right next to making edible books," he remarks, jumping back on the bed. "You could make a book of good ideas."
"Would that book be edible too?" she asks from where she's sitting and reaching for the room service menu. "And why do books need to be edible?"
"To get rid of the evidence," he explains.
"You know I'm a cop, right? And that you work for the police as well?" she reminds him.
"Details, Jules. Details."
Juliet orders room service while Shawn gets started on making the pillow fort, reminding her to ask for more blankets and to see if they had a trampoline. Apparently, they didn't, which offends Shawn greatly.
"What kind of hotel doesn't have trampolines?" Shawn exclaims. "Call Lassie, tell him to bring the polygraph machine."
"You call Lassiter," she responds. If it were a more serious issue, she'd do it, and she knows that her partner would do it, but using her position as his partner to get him to agree to Shawn's ridiculous ideas might tarnish their otherwise steady and reputable partnership. "I'm sure he'd love to hear from you."
"Whatever, Jules. You'll be sorry when we can't play trampoline chicken at three in the morning," he insists, draping a blanket over the fort to make it look like a tent.
They have their grilled cheese sandwiches delivered to the room, and Shawn insists on eating inside the fort, because the fact that the fort is inside a five star hotel makes it a five star fort, and "they'd be foolish to pass up on such an opportunity". Shawn makes her watch Sharknado on Netflix, calling it a "cinematic masterpiece".
Luckily her phone rings before he starts the sequel.
"Carlton, what's going on?" she asks. She had told him to only call if it was an emergency, although it was equally likely that he was having girl problems. Shawn shoots her a look, along with hand gestures that either mean he has to pee, or to hang up the phone.
"You're going to have to come down to the station, O'Hara. We've got a triple homicide, and we need all hands on deck," he explains. She feels her heart sink a little. If it had happened any other day, she would have no reservations, but she had been looking forward to having some time alone with Shawn, even if it was just one night.
"I'm on my way," she says gravely after a moment of hesitation, hanging up before he can elaborate. She turns to Shawn, who stares back at her like she had just kicked a puppy. "I'm sorry, Shawn. I really wanted to watch Sharknado Two with you, but there's a triple homicide and I need to be there."
"But you aren't even on call this weekend," Shawn protests. "I even made Vick pinky-promise."
She had always struggled with choosing work over Shawn, but this time, it felt especially difficult.
"You can come with me," she offers, doing her best to fake a smile. "And afterwards, we'll have the whole night to ourselves. I promise."
They arrive at the first crime scene, where Lassiter is barking orders at everyone and examining the victim with a flashlight in hand.
"You brought Spencer?" Lassiter groans, giving Juliet a look of betrayal. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that she was still holding hands with Shawn, or maybe it was just the fact that it was late, but her partner seemed especially cranky. "Wait a minute. Where's Gus?"
Shawn makes a vague, "I dunno" sound, looking over his shoulder as if his partner might actually show up. He hasn't even looked at her since they got in the car to drive over to the crime scene, and if he hadn't kept holding onto her hand after she took his, she'd think he were angry with her.
But he is good at being passive-aggressive with her. It was her first time on the receiving end of it, though she had witnessed her previous boyfriends and coworkers being victims of jealous-Shawn, passive-aggressive-Shawn, and even just straight up aggressive-Shawn. But she had never expected to be the one being given the cold shoulder.
"Alright, well, let's just get this over with so that we can all get on with our lives," Lassiter says, making a hand gesture to invite her over to the body. Juliet finally lets go of Shawn's hand, although she is a bit concerned that she won't get it back.
"Can you pick up on anything, Spencer?" Lassiter asks.
"Nope, my psychic powers clocked out hours ago," Shawn says, stuffing his hands in his pockets and looking around the crime scene as if he were lost. Juliet shoots him a look, and turns back to the body.
"Good, maybe we'll actually get something done tonight," Lassiter says, before explaining the situation to her.
As soon as the body is taken away, she excuses herself from the crime scene, and finds Shawn watching quietly from a distance.
"Are you okay? You've been really quiet," she asks him, reaching out and taking his hand again, relieved when he doesn't flinch or pull away. "It's because of work, isn't it?"
"I love that you're a cop," he starts, and she braces herself for whatever speech is about to come. "But tonight was supposed to be about us, not crime-solving."
"I'm sorry, Shawn," she says, looking down. "If it wasn't an emergency, I would've made up an excuse. But we can leave now, and we still have thewhole weekend to ourselves! Don't let this little inconvenience ruin the whole weekend, okay?"
"Okay," he relents, pulling her into a giant hug in front of all her coworkers, and she lets him, just this once. Besides, it's not like there isn't anyone who doesn't know that they're dating.
"I love you," she tells him. "Even if it seems like I choose work over you a lot of the time."
"I love you too," he replies. "Even if I go behind your back to solve cases sometimes."
"Wait," she says, pulling out of the hug that she had been melting into. "I thought you said that you stopped doing that! Full disclosure, Shawn!"
"Oops," he says, like it just resolves everything. His word choice rarely resolves anything, but it's hard to stay mad at him when he gives her goofy expressions like the one he's giving her right now.
"Come on, let's go back to the hotel."