Disclaimer: I don't own Psych if I did Lassiter and Jules would be a couple.
Peaches and Swiss Miss
The little punk had annoyed Lassiter the entire day from his complaining about the smell of the car, to his urges of telling him to listen up but most of all his completely inappropriate comments about his partner Juliet O'Hara. His whole James Dean, wanna-be rebel attitude wasn't new to the Head Detective of the SBPD. He grew up with kids like that and he sure as hell dealt with them as a cop working the beat. He didn't relish having to revisit those days.
When the Chief told them their assignment his first thought was how to scare the kid straight and then shot his Glock at the firing range. The little punk as he affectionately named him in his mind only received the special treatment since his mother was the Deputy Mayor. Nepotism: another reason why he hated politicians.
He, O'Hara, and the punk while driving out on patrol got into an argument. Every time he thought about that argument made him want shoot himself. He talked like a scared witness with every comment the punk made. He only hoped to Sweet Lady Justice that Spencer wouldn't hear about it. It would be another weapon in Spencer's arsenal of taunts right up there with his nose, ears, and lack of love life.
The sorry mess all started after the punk whined about the smell of the patrol car. He made a smart comment in response comparing the smell to his future. The punk just like Spencer switched targets to O'Hara. He asked her in a very punkish way about her story and that her hair smelled like strawberries. Like the village idiot he corrected "Peaches".
She and the punk gave him a look of incredulity. He tried to cover it up (unsuccessfully) by stammering that he needed to stop and buy peaches on the way. "Real smooth Lassiter" he thought. But he thought from the corner of his cornea he saw her smile in hiding pleasure. He chalked it up to her smiling at his stupidity but being too nice to laugh in his face. Then he made his second error.
The punk then told him to lighten up because he got to hang out with a beautiful, HOT lady every day and all day. Though his gun was holstered he forget to holster his mouth. He spoke of his police qualities, her detective skills, even her clean workspace. Then his cardinal error flew out.
"Above all she isn't hot!"
The little punk had the nerve and the class to shut up. O'Hara looked hurt and he wished he had the courage to tell her that comment hurt him way more than it hurt her.
The rest of the day was spent driving back to the station in awkward silence, a silence he was used to with women, watching Spencer act like a kindergartener the best part being the punk hating Spencer too, and watching a hardened prisoner joke like a teenager while describing prison as a resort with cake.
He tried to bribe the punk with hot chocolate apparently as O'Hara told him later with Guster and Spencer present from solving some nursing case kids want X-Boxes not hot chocolate. Guster gave a knowing nod and Spencer had the same stupid smirk on his face. He wiped at the stain on his silk tie. Guster told lemon wedges worked best on stains.
He furiously swiped at the Swiss Miss stain as O'Hara took the punk into the Chief's office for a one-on-one chat. He noticed Spencer and Guster trying to listen in on the private conversation typical for the sneaks. Psychic his ass. Moments later, the punk slumped out his head down walked over to him and apologized (with propping from O'Hara) from acting like a punk and even thanked the force for serving the city. After a snap from O'Hara, he sat down chastened like a disciplined dog. The Chief, Spencer, and Guster joined him in the center of the highway on the city's seal mouth wide opened with amazing as O'Hara strolled off. He didn't need to pretend to be a fake psychic to know she was smiling that sweet Scottish smile.
He stood there the longest outlasting even Spencer of course that man would pass his dream girl for a churro. So long that in fact McNab asked him (repeatedly) if he was ok. He didn't comprehend McNab's words until the seventh time the question was proposed. His only thoughts were on O'Hara and her peach-scented hair. Perhaps for the first time since his separated wife, he felt in love. Perhaps, this love was deeper than his love for Victoria. The regulations frowned on inter force dating, Spencer would just loudly announce in his crude fashion a relationship anyways, and besides she would never fell for him Mr. Glock and Socially Awkward. Spencer was destined to have her and misuse her.
But as Sweet Lady Justice was his witness and the risk of sounding like a Hallmark movie, he would make sure on the pain of death when Spencer picked that peach that he would treat her like a prized date and no bruises would come to her. He could only be the planter never the picker.