Disclaimer: I don't claim to own psych or its fictional characters.
Rating: T
Summary: LASSIET. Juliet and Carlton have been together secretly for long enough, and she wants to change that. This is a tweaking of one of my earliest one-shots, which I took down a long time ago.

. . . . .

. . . .

Long Author's Note: In the two years I've been on site, 99.9% of the unsigned/anonymous comments I've gotten have been positive, and I thank everyone for that. However, I've picked up a little troll in the past few days, and because of her I've had to start moderating reviews. It's pretty easy: the notification emails show the commenter's name first, and if it's not an HTML link then I simply delete the email unread; then in the moderation panel in my FF account, I just click right on the 'decline' button without ever reading the hate. Problem is, I know I'm going to miss out on good reader comments as well, and I'm sorry about that.

This girl (who is also targeting the other Lassiet/Karlton writers) not only hates Lassiet with the white-hot heat of a thousand suns, but also hates Lassiter himself, and in one of her more psychotic comments expressed a wish for him to be dead. Yes, that's right: she doesn't understand this is all fiction, based on a TV show about fictional people, and that she doesn't have to read Lassiet (or Karlton) at all. Her chief complaint—amid personal insults—is she feels I vilify Shawn and glorify Lassiter, even though by her own public statements, she's only read one chapter of one story, and has "looked over" some others (which kinda sounds like not reading them to me). Those of you who do actually read me know that I keep Shawn as true to his TV-show behavior as possible, and if Lassiter looks a little better in comparison, well… sorry, but duh? It's a Lassiet? And it's fiction? Which is built into the name of the site? And you don't have to read it at all?

Anyway, I wanted to explain why your review/comment won't be read if you're not signed in. I appreciate your good intentions, but the angry little troll has spoiled the picnic for everyone.

Now on to the fluff!

. . . . .

. . . .

. . .

"I think we should tell Vick we're a couple," Juliet said one morning as they were scrambling to get out the door.

Carlton froze. "What? No. It's too soon. She'll separate us."

She paused while rinsing her coffee cup. "Carlton, it's been six months. We've worked together perfectly well in that time. There's absolutely nothing she or anyone else can point to which suggests our relationship is getting in the way of our jobs."

The clock on the wall was ticking. "Okay," he said, "give me some time to think about it. We have to go or we'll be late for the meeting with the DA."

. . . .
. . .

The next day, after a delicious evening in bed, glasses of wine long empty, the night settling down around them, Juliet said, "Did you think about coming out at work?"

Carlton tensed.

She felt it, sighed and stroked his chest. "Come on, talk to me."

"I'm not going to be able to handle it if she separates us," he said honestly. "I don't want another partner. I want you."

"That's how I feel, too. You know that. But we can't keep it a secret forever."

She could almost sense him silently asking Why not?

"Carlton," she cajoled. "We practically live together now, and my lease is up in two months. We've talked about marriage. One way or the other, this relationship is going public."

"I know." He turned and kissed her gently. "I can't help being concerned about how things will be at work. We're doing fine but what if other people start treating us differently? What if even one tiny mistake gets blown out of proportion and costs the DA a conviction because someone points at us and says our relationship tainted the investigation?"

"I really don't think that's going to happen, sweetie."

"What if your reputation takes a hit? I'm used to people not liking me. Hell, a teenage girl told me she wanted me dead just two days ago. But if you're linked to me—"

She slapped his chest. "Stop. In the past six months I've had more people tell me nice things about you than ever before. And what do I care what they say anyway? I love you."

He turned his blue gaze to hers. "Juliet, I need more time. Please."

Juliet sighed and kissed her man. "Okay. A little more time."

. . . .
. . .

End of the week. Juliet's morning had been annoying. In fact, the whole week had been annoying, except for the hours she and Carlton were alone, whether driving to a crime scene, having a quick lunch between suspect interviews, or simply talking in bed (but not about coming out; that was tabled for now).

She was fighting with the printer to release her document when John Breck came up from Narcotics. "Hey, O'Hara, how you doing?"

She gave him a smile; he was nice but flirted too much. "I'd be better if this printer would cooperate. How's Narc?"

"Druggy, as usual. Listen, I gotta tell you, I was sure sorry to hear you were off the market."

Juliet stared at him. "Excuse me?"

He looked disconcerted. "I mean… sorry, I meant Lassiter told me you were seeing someone and I'm just, well, sorry I missed my chance."

She kept her expression neutral, but knew instantly that Carlton would only have said this under pressure, if Breck had been nagging at him to give up information about her. "Well, fate's a funny thing, isn't it?"

"Sure is. But hey, keep me in mind if it doesn't work out." He gave her a winning smile and went off down the hall.

Later she had to go to the business office to see about a minor error in her paycheck. Marilyn, as she looked up the correct numbers, stopped to say, "Your partner sure has become a hot commodity around here lately."

"What do you mean?"

Marilyn smiled… or leered… Juliet couldn't tell which. "Well, he's been in a good mood for months now and I'm not the only girl who's liking it. Those big blue eyes are to die for, and sometimes he looks like the perfect Irish lad to jump in the clover with. You know?"

Juliet's eyebrows went up.

Oblivious, Marilyn handed her the revised paystub and went on, "Is he seeing anyone? I mean, you'd know, right, being his partner?"

She made herself seem calm. "Yep, I'd know." She smiled and left without answering the question.

. . . .
. . .

Carlton had been in meetings all morning, and when she caught up with him he was just coming back from Booking. "Can we talk?" she asked firmly in such a way as to make it clear they were talking even if he didn't want to talk.

He stopped at the end of the hall, obviously sizing up her mood. "Sure. What's wrong?"

"We need to come out, and it needs to be soon."

"We talked about this." His voice was low and tense. "And here isn't the place to talk about it again." He went a few feet further into the main hall, but she kept up.

"I know I said I'd give you time but I'm tired, Carlton."

He immediately swung around to face her. "Tired of what exactly?"

She read the expression in his eyes. "Not of us. Never that."

"Then what? Why are you so anxious to blow everything up?"

"I don't want to blow anything up. But I'm tired of the lying. I'm tired of hiding this. I had to listen to Marilyn gushing about you earlier. Breck said he was sorry I was 'off the market.' And I couldn't say one word to either of them. I'm tired of all that!"

Carlton shook his head, his jaw tight. He headed away again, and this time she simply called out his name sharply. Others heard it, and he stopped and turned to face her. "What?"

She walked up to him, aware of curiosity from other staff.

"Look, I'm sorry about Breck," he muttered when she was close. "I was sick of him asking if you'd date him."

"I understand. But that's just the tip of the iceberg. This has been going on for months. I want to claim you, Carlton. I want you to claim me. I want to face whatever we have to face, and I want to start facing it now!" She was pretty sure her voice was low enough that no one else could hear her.

"This isn't a good idea. There'll be repercussions," he almost hissed.

"Then we deal with them together," she hissed back. "That's the whole point of everything. What are you afraid of? People mocking you for getting involved with another partner?"

"Hell, no," he shot back. "My stock will go through the roof once they know I've got you. But yours will tank. And that could come between us, assuming we don't get reassigned."

"Carlton, stop worrying about everything all at once. Worry about one thing at a time for a change. This thing. This one simple thing."

He looked distressed. Uncertain. Pressured. "Well, what do you want, O'Hara?" His voice was louder than hers now. More stares. "Do you want me to French-kiss you right here in the hall?"

Exasperated, she snapped, "Yes. Right. That's exactly what I want." She started to turn away—giving up for now—but he grabbed her arm and yanked her close, and the next thing she knew, he was kissing her, his mouth furious and intense against hers, his arms around her like a vise, and in about three seconds she had completely forgotten they were surrounded by people who, one by one, ceased all activity to watch this very interesting spectacle in the police station hallway.

Abruptly he set her free, his eyes like blue fire. Then, looking around at their considerable audience, he barked, "Everyone clear on the concept?"

There was silence.

Dobson finally answered hesitantly, "Uh, yeah, we're good."

"I am crazy-ass in love with this woman," Lassiter continued, just as loudly. "And I don't know why the hell she loves me back, but she does. Or she did a minute ago, anyway. Now everyone just… deal with it. All right?" He strode off while Juliet was still standing agog, but stopped again when Chief Vick stepped into his path, hand on her hips.

"Detective," she said dryly.

Carlton sighed. "Chief, I—"

"Save it." She waited until Juliet joined them, and looked them both over consideringly. "I'm guessing this has been going on awhile."

"Yes, ma'am." His voice was even.

"And so far as I know, there haven't been any problems in your work performance."

"No, Chief," Juliet agreed, hoping she wasn't as flushed as she felt.

"It's not against policy but need I remind you of the importance of discretion?" She gestured to the forty others hanging on every word. "And of how little it takes to disrupt the work of those who should be working?" Her voice rose on the last few words, and suddenly everyone else found they were very busy with their jobs.

They both said "Yes, ma'am," at the same time.

"Then I expect to never see anything like that again in my police station. Is that clear?" She started past them, but slowed long enough to add quietly, "Congratulations."

After a pregnant pause, Carlton stared down at Juliet. "Am I in trouble with you?"

She stared back into his solemn blue eyes.

"Because I have a feeling that wasn't exactly what you had in mind."

Juliet touched her mouth. She could still feel the kiss.

She would definitely have to get more of that later.

"Say something," he pressed.

She smiled. "Sorry, no time. I have to go warn Marilyn to keep her skanky hands off of my man."

. . . .

. . .

E N D