Disclaimer: I was looking for new disclaimer wording and found a site which offered this one up: "If you choke to death on a hot dog, that is natural selection, and management is not responsible." Also, I stole these people from Steve Franks & Co.

Rating: T

Summary: So this story will take awhile to tell, but I promise I WILL finish it. Lassiet by the end. Inspired by the idea of the reunion movie, but before I knew the basic plot, I plotted out most of this tale, which is also set three years-ish from the end of the series and needless to say is nothing like whatever we're going to see in December. Also, it's Tuesday the 17th, which I know you know, and yes I'm telling the truth.

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When he answered, it was with a crisp, "You are now bothering Chief Carlton Lassiter."

Juliet laughed. "Good. When I choose to bother a guy, I expect him to be the top guy."

She could hear the smile with his next words. "O'Hara. It's been too long."

Six months since their last too-brief phone conversation; almost two years since their last meeting. Over three years since she'd left to work with Karen in San Francisco.

"Yes it has. But you, Chief Carlton Lassiter, are going to change that."

"Am I?" He was still amused.

"Yes, because you are about to tell me that you're going to the CopsWest Training & Expo in Palm Springs next week, and we're going to get to see each other there."

"I always said you were a sharp cookie. Yes, I'm going over on Sunday evening."

"When do you expect to arrive? Maybe we can have dinner."

"Ah..." he hesitated. "I don't know exactly. I have to take a side trip to Santa Maria first."

"Santa Maria?" That was an hour in the opposite direction.

"Long story. I'll tell you later. Let me text you when I get in and if it's not too late we can work something out. Or breakfast on Monday."

She heard the reserve in his tone and knew not to press just now. "Anyone else from the SBPD going?"

"I wish, but Brannigan will have to stay and hold down the fort. The city's been tough on the budget this year. I have to soak up all the training and pass it on when I get back home."

"Sounds aggravating. There'll be a few Frisco people there but no one I know well enough to be obligated to hang out with."

"Good," he said with satisfaction. "More O'Hara for me to annoy."

She laughed again, realizing again how much she'd missed him. "Okay then. Text me the minute you arrive, and the game is on."

. . . . .

. . . .

Juliet had been feeling a bit adrift for awhile. It started before she ended her relationship with Shawn—and it was hard to believe that was over a year ago. She liked her work, but much as Carlton had confessed when he was named Chief that what he really wanted was to be her partner rather than work at the top alone, she'd learned the Frisco job wasn't perfect. Timely, necessary, educational, and certainly good for her resume, but not perfect.

San Francisco itself was unlike any other place, and in many ways she loved it... but Santa Barbara, despite her Miami roots, was the place she still thought of as home. And lately, she'd been feeling nothing less than homesick.

Shawn and Gus had opened up a detective agency, finding business a bit more prolific there with a metro population of nearly five million—about four and half million more than Santa Barbara County.

Juliet had privately let Karen Vick know Shawn wasn't psychic. It was one thing to protect him on smaller turf with bigger consequences, but she couldn't let him con Karen while she was starting her own 'next big adventure.' Karen had taken the news stoically, agreed she never heard it, and simply advised Shawn that the stakes were higher there, and besides, with access to a rather remarkable consultant of their own who already knew Frisco top to bottom—and wasn't hampered by being a fraud—she couldn't justify bringing in a newbie outsider.

(For a moment she relived—with a grin—the first meeting between their consultant and Shawn. The consultant refused to shake his hand, which wasn't unusual—but asked for a disinfectant wipe anyway. Shawn was offended, but Gus just nodded like it all made perfect sense to him.)

So Juliet learned the ins and outs of the job, missed 'home,' and for some time had been thinking about Carlton a lot more. Their communication was via text mostly, nothing much; they were both busy. He occasionally mentioned Marlowe but more often it was Lilly. He sent pictures of the little girl, now approaching her fourth birthday, and Juliet liked that she had her father's big blue eyes.

She missed those big blue eyes. She missed his entire cranky person. This training expo was going to be a great chance to reconnect with the man who'd been her unlikely best friend for so many years.

. . . . .

. . . .

Her flight from Frisco to Palm Springs was uneventful and she checked into the hotel with luggage and sanity intact. Carlton would be driving in—she wondered about that side trip to Santa Maria—and he'd be in a foul mood because of traffic, because there was always traffic.

But even that made her smile, those memories of Carlton at the wheel alternately terrifying and exhilarating her.

There was a pre-registration room set up off the Grand lobby, so after she'd settled into her room—the Renaissance was quite posh, at the foot of the San Jacinto mountains—she went back downstairs to get that bit of housekeeping taken care of.

Shortly thereafter, her packet in hand, she turned back toward the door in time to see Carlton walk in.

Tall, lean, half-scowling and with those vivid blue eyes almost distracting her from how tired he looked, he headed toward the table for the "L" group, not seeing her.

She was almost glad he hadn't seen her, because she needed a moment. Why, she wasn't sure, but she felt so overwhelmingly pleased to see him—so suddenly consumed by an urge to hug him—that maybe it was best to hang back for a few seconds to let him take care of his own housekeeping.

But once he had his packet in hand, half-scowl still firmly in place, she put herself between him and the door. "Allow me to introduce—" she began, smiling.

However, the rest of the sentence was oofed away when he wrapped his arms around her hard. "Juliet, dammit," he breathed against her hair, squeezing her and seemingly unaware she was squeezing him just as hard.

"Carlton," she managed, once he'd put her back a little and stood smiling down at her. "God, it's good to see you."

"A-freakin'-men. Come here." He hugged her again and then grasped her arm, but he wasn't pulling her; as one they made it back out to the grand lobby, scoring a grand sofa near a grand column and a grand fern and she really didn't care because she was so damned glad to see him. "I was going to text you as soon as I got back to my room."

"This is better. Element of surprise. How are you?" Before he could answer, she eyed him judiciously. "You look a bit worn out. How was the drive?"

"Never ask me how a drive was, Juliet." He grinned at her, and while she hadn't exactly forgotten how his eyes sometimes seemed to be lit from within, it still startled her how very blue they were. "You flew in?"

"And boy are my arms tired," she joked, and he laughed like he'd never heard it before. "We have so much to catch up on. How's the family?"

"Lilly is a beautiful little demon," he said emphatically, "and it serves me right. Hey, you want to just find a place to eat here?"

"Sure. But I'd like to get this packet up to my room first so I don't lose it."

He agreed this was sensible, and as it turned out they were on the same floor, about ten rooms apart. They split up when they got there, but he knocked on her door again about three minutes later while she was fluffing her hair.

"The room-service prices aren't bad," he commented. "In case you—"

Immediately this seemed like a fantastic idea. "Yes, let's do that."

While Carlton perused the menu and read out what he thought she'd like, she went to open the balcony door, letting in the fading warmth of the early evening breeze. Staying in for quiet conversation with him sounded lovely, and this was the perfect setting.

He remembered she liked club sandwiches and used her room phone to order a pair, along with drinks, chips and dip.

Joining her on the balcony, he lowered his lean frame into one of the chairs and sighed. "Thanks."

"For what?"

"Being willing to keep it simple. Life's been kind of complicated lately and I'll take all the moments of peace I can get."

Juliet turned from the rail and surveyed him. "You really do look tired, partner."

It felt too nice to call him that.

A faint smile curved his lips. His hair was a bit longer, more silver than black now, but he always looked marvelous when he smiled. "I am. You, on the other hand, are your usual glowing beauty. You don't seem to age, Juliet."

"'Glowing beauty' is awfully high praise." She said it lightly, taking the chair next to his but angling it to see him better, and marveling at how easily he seemed to be saying her name now. There was a little part of her which kind of missed the soothing bark of "O'Hara!" ... but "Juliet" sounded pretty good too.

Carlton shrugged. "Still accurate. How are you?"

"Aging daily." She smiled, getting comfortable in the chair. "I saw that eye-roll."

"Damn straight, because from where I sit, you're still just a baby."

Laughing, she patted his warm hand. "Well, I don't feel like one. And you're not fifty yet."

He looked at his watch. "It's coming up too fast, though. And thanks for pretty much admitting fifty is the end of the road."

"Carlton! I did not say that." She smacked his hand this time, but he only grinned. "You've still got it, is what I mean."

"Yeah? Well, where did I put it?"

"Oh, stop. Just tell me everything about the SBPD. I miss that place."

"Nothing to miss unless you like chaos."

"Chaos? In your station? I doubt it. Besides, I hear Betsy Brannigan is all that and maybe two bags of chips." She privately admitted, sometimes, under self-pressure, to being just a little tiny bit jealous of her replacement. "How's McNab doing?"

"Surprisingly," he said, sounding wry, "Brannigan made good on her promise to build him into a detective from the ground up. He's not the fastest and he's not the sharpest, but he does good solid work. She is rightfully proud of her success."

"I keep trying to imagine him in plain clothes," she mused. "It's not working. So is it true? About the legend of Betsy Brannigan?"

Carlton chuckled. "I don't know about the legend. I'll say this: she's a great detective, but she's seriously flaky." His tone suggested he was understating it. "Makes for a somewhat… unsettled squad. McNab's the only one who seems to take in stride, but then he's a little flaky too."

"And Woody? Speaking of flakiness?"

He rubbed his temples. "Woody Strode. Dear God. That man is… I don't know what that man is. I'm just glad we can keep him mostly isolated down on the lower level. If more people knew exactly how… whackaloon he is, it wouldn't matter that he's so damn good at his job. Forget flaky; he's damn near burnt to a crisp."

She was delighted at his discomfiture. "It's nice to know some things haven't changed."

Eyeing her, he muttered something about how some things should have changed. "What about you? Karen treating you right?"

"You know she is. She's been the easiest part of the job up there." But she sighed despite the truth of her words. "It's not home, though. I still miss Santa Barbara."

For a moment he was silent, and she wondered about the expression on his shadowed face.

"And Spencer?" he asked without emphasis.

She'd told him about their breakup shortly after it happened, in one of their too-infrequent phone calls. Carlton, who was after all still her friend, hadn't made even one snarky remark, and after the call ended she cried with relief—mixed with regret that she'd doubted him.

"Do I miss him?" she clarified. "No, not like that. The relationship ended long before I called it off. Sometimes I miss his sense of humor, but truth is I know a lot of amusing people, so I'm okay. I told you he and Gus opened a new agency, right? They call it 'psych-ish' but don't make any claims beyond that."

"Good." He sounded satisfied.

"He told me he made you a DVD and admitted to... you know." It was still hard to say it out loud.

Carlton turned his blue gaze her way. "Yeah, he made me a DVD. But as fate would have it, when he was in the middle of a sentence which started out 'I'm not—', that DVD ejected itself from the laptop, snapped itself in half and dumped itself right in the trash."

She stared at him in wonderment, and when he smiled slowly, she started laughing. "You... you mellowed!"

"The hell I did," he said with an immediately and wonderfully familiar scowl. "I just couldn't afford to learn anything I'd have to do something about."

"Same difference, Carlton Lassiter. Mellowed. Newly married, new baby, new chiefliness—mellowed!"

He smiled briefly, and looked out across the blue-green pool and swaying palms. "Hard to believe that was three years ago."

There was an edge to his tone, something she couldn't quite pinpoint.

But he glanced her way again. "Why didn't you get married?"

He'd never asked her before. She guessed she understood why. "You know the ring was stolen right after he proposed."

"Yeah, but that shouldn't have stopped you if it was what you both wanted." Again with the odd tone... and she guessed she understood that too. He'd never been a fan of the relationship but he'd supported her right to be happy in it.

"No, it shouldn't have." Juliet leaned back in the chair, surprised at how un-tense she was. "But the truth was, he didn't really want to get married. He thought he wanted to commit, and he thought he had to do it via marriage. I wanted him to commit too, but when the ring was stolen he lost his nerve, although he never admitted it. I thought it was enough that he'd moved up there to be with me. The wedding could wait, right?"

"But Guster was along for the ride." He was still watching her. "Like always."

"Like always. And old habits are so very hard to break when you don't really want to break them." She looked down at her hands, feeling a moment of sadness. "He said he wanted to save up for a new ring, and time passed. And while that time was passing, I figured out he wasn't the... hill I wanted to die on."

Carlton smiled. "Good girl."

"Took me too long, but up there in that fresh new setting, all our differences were magnified tenfold. My vision became clearer. And I have no regrets, either about the relationship or the end of it."

"Good girl," he said again, and seemed pleased for her. "You were always meant to be all right, Juliet."

This pleased her, and in the ensuing seconds where she had to blink back an unexpected tear, there was a knock at the door.

"Dinner!" she exclaimed, and they both got up and went into the room proper.

Once admitted, a crisp and efficient attendant rolled in a cart and set up its cargo on the table in front of the room's sofa, offering to bring them anything else they might possibly desire, and when he'd performed his delivery admirably, he accepted graciously the tip Juliet—who was faster than Carlton—gave him and vanished back into the hall with the cart.

Settling on the sofa, with the patio door still open to let in the cooling breeze, Juliet started in on the chip and dips, teasing Carlton with a threat to eat them all herself.

But he was a formidable foe where good food was concerned, the chips were shared fair and square, and the sandwiches were exactly as good as they looked.

Memories of countless shared meals and coffees flashed through her head, and she felt warm and happy to be with him again.

He'd somehow snuck in an order for slices of warm apple pie, too. "They didn't have tiramisu on the menu," he confessed. "I looked twice."

"Such a good man." She licked her fingertips, smiling at him.

Shrugging, he went to work on the last of his sandwich. "You're gullible, O'Hara. Since the day you were born."

"Liar."

"Yep." He grinned. "So you're really done with the Spencer phase of your life?"

"Oh, yes. It ended nearly a year ago, remember. I see them now and then—hard to give up old friendships in a big city—but it's just for fun. I told you—no regrets."

"I'm glad." He seemed reflective. "I guess I just figured he wouldn't give up easily. That he might hang around trying to wear you down."

"For a few weeks he did, but he finally let it go relatively gracefully." She knew Gus had helped with that. Gus, in their strange new location, was a little lost, and Shawn had chosen wisely to devote his energy to the one relationship he really couldn't afford to lose—the one he had with his true other half.

Carlton nodded, and said no more about it.

"So what's up with the family? I love the photos of Lilly. She is gorgeous."

"Like I said, she's a beautiful demon. Tall too for her age."

"Is that your height or Marlowe's?"

"Combination, I guess. Have you see Iris Vick lately? Karen sent me a photo of her at Christmas and she's a carbon copy of her mom."

At first she was surprised to hear him ask about anyone else's children—but then again, he'd been there when Iris was born, so maybe she wasn't "just another kid." Plus, having a child of his own might have mellowed him even more. She was smiling privately at this thought when he nudged her.

"Hey. I see you silently mocking me."

"I am not," she said primly. "I'm just enjoying the softening of your hard outer shell." While he rolled his eyes, she went on, "Yes, I see Iris every few weeks. She's into dance now and starting to notice boys. Karen tells her ten is too young to date, but Iris isn't convinced."

"Dear God. Lilly's not even four and I'm already dreading the dating phase." He shuddered, and took a large swig of his beer.

Juliet laughed. "I'm sure you and Marlowe working together will corral her."

He crumpled up his napkin and leaned back against the cushions.

When he failed to respond to her remark, she said carefully, "And how is Marlowe?"

Carlton shrugged—a lot of that tonight, Juliet noted—and finally said, with his blue gaze on the bottle instead of her, "I'm not really in a position to give you an answer to that question."

Goosebumps rippled along her skin. "Um... should I drop it?"

He didn't answer right away, and her goosebumps intensified.

Finally he let out a heavy breath. "No. You know all my secrets anyway. It's exactly right for you to be the first person to hear this one."

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