It was all she had left to do now, watch the clock crawl. Files had been distributed, redistributed, completed and filed and for the first time in as-long-as-she-could-remember... there was nothing to be done. Aside from perusing the cold case files (which, she was forced to admit, was as boring as it sounded) there was no real police work to be done. Even the chief, who-at the drop of a hat-could scrounge up something for anyone to do, had seemed to run out of tasks.

In fact, Juliet noticed as she reclined to sneak a glance into the office, she was cleaning her desk, dust cloth in hand. Lassiter, however, appeared to be working diligently at his computer, brow wrinkled in concentration.

"Anything interesting, Lassiter?" she called to him, though not entirely caring about the answer.

"Nothing for you to concern yourself with, O'Hara," he retorted testily-his standard-and went right on clicking.

Juliet rolled her eyes and loaded her email for the hundredth time that day; two and a half more hours, if she could make it through the shift without opening a cold case, she would buy herself a pint of Chunky Monkey on the way home. Opening up her spam folder, she began deleting individual messages, 'Penis enlargement! This is real!," "Consolidate your loans today!," "Vioxx, Vicodin and more, more, more..." With another roll of her eyes she x-ed out of the browser and was about to rearrange her file drawer, when a familiar voice rang out behind her.

"Jules, fancy seeing you here!" Shawn Spencer sauntered over to her desk and plopped himself down just to the right of her blotter; from her right came a loud exhalation of breath, no doubt the senior detective had heard the pseudo-psychic's entrance as well.

She twisted her mouth into her standard, sarcastic smile. "Why yes Shawn, it is rather fancy seeing me here... this isn't my desk or anything."

Clutching his side, he mock laughed at her, "Oh, oh, you brought jokes today! How awesome for you!"

Pursing her lips into something she hoped was read as aggravated, she sat forward in her seat, sliding open a drawer, pretending to pull out a file of some substance. "Is there something I can help you with or are you here with the sole purpose of distracting me from my work?" She had to admit, that did sound convincing, and rather snarky as well. Mentally, she patted herself on the back.

Shawn rolled back a little, snatching up a photograph that was perched at the edge of the desk. "Your mom? And I find it rather sweet that you find me distracting, I was going to get that teeth whitening treatment, see if that worked, but as I see I don't need it... and I'm not interrupting anything, you have nothing to do and that's funny because Lassie over there clearly has something to do, don't partners work together and-"

"Shawn!" she broke in, glancing towards her partner and noting the distinctly crimson hue of his face, "Really, is there something you need? Why are you here?"

Chuffing the chin of the woman in the picture, he winked at her and placed the photo back where it belonged, drawing his legs up underneath him to sit Indian-style on her desk. "Yes, in fact there is something I need, of course that would be inappropriate to discuss at a place such as this, your place of employment. Perhaps we could go somewhere-"

Lassiter cut him off, bellowing, "Else!" The sound carried clear across the bullpen as everyone stopped what they were doing and turned to stare at him. The glare he mustered was enough to have people scampering eagerly back to their routine tasks.

Both the psychic and Juliet blinked, meeting each others' gaze before getting up and taking a few steps away from the desk. "Ice cream Lassie, mint chocolate chip, looks like you could use some; you know you're supposed to eat five hundred more calories when you're-"

The detective picked up and slammed down his mouse, teeth appearing as he scowled at the younger man. Hopping from his chair, he began to spit, "I'm allergic to mint and if you finish that sentence Spencer I'll-"

Laughing nervously and not wanting to begin Lassiter's weekend on a bad note, Jules grabbed the sleeve of Shawn's shirt and tugged him backwards. "I'll get him out of your hair," she called over her shoulder, beating a hasty retreat. Her nails were digging in a bit too hard on his bicep, but she was bearing down on him only as much as she was bearing her teeth together.

Finally, once they had reached reception, she spun him around so that they were once again facing each other; he was grinning charmingly at her though her mouth was twisted into a scowl… or an attempt at one. "You know, Jules," Shawn began, pouting a little, "If you keep looking at me like that your face is

gonna stick that way."

Her chest heaved up as she sucked in a deep breath, "I'm beginning to see why Carlton does whatever he can to avoid you," she mumbled, glancing back and forth down the hall just to be sure he wasn't around. God, she was such a good partner, taking it upon herself to deal with Shawn for someone who wasn't likely to return the favor. Not that she needed saving from Shawn, but the thought; he'd never have the thought to do something like that for her.

Juliet clasped her hands at her waist, just as Shawn said, "I wonder if Lassiter would ever do that for you, get you out of a potentially annoying situation..."

"Did you just call yourself annoying?" she asked, slyly.

Twisting his mouth to the side, Shawn took the hit with grace, placing a hand over his heart, mock-wounded. "Perhaps I'm saying that ole' Lassi back there doesn't know how to have any fun." With a shrug, he moved to his left and plopped himself down on the visitor's bench, stretching his arms along the back as he crossed his legs with an exaggerated motion. "And speaking of not having any fun, we have no cases."

Juliet gasped and then raised her brows, silently asking what he wanted from her.

"And it appears as though you haven't any cases for us, either," his voice took on a tone similar to a James Bond villain and Shawn pretended to stroke an imaginary cat in his lap. He went on pretend-petting until Juliet threw her hands up in the air.

"No, nothing, is that what you wanted or..."

Shawn gave her one of the half smiles that he was so fond of and brought his hands to slap down on his knees. "No, that's not what I wanted. I was thinking… since the criminals of Santa Barbara seem to think that the low-hundreds is too hot to commit actual crimes in, that you're not going to be having a very busy night."

Jules crossed her arms over her chest and raised a brow. "That seems to be the case," she began and continued on rather optimistically, "I might actually finish a nine hour shift in nine hours rather than fifteen."

He clapped his hands together, startling her a bit; Shawn stood, his grin seemingly more genuine than she'd ever seen it. He had a habit of smile and lulling people into a false sense of security. This time, this particular upturn of lips… it was different. "Fantastic, tell me you don't have plans tonight."

Jules froze, trying in vain to come up with some plans on the spot, some excuse, but before she could, he was speaking again. He had a tendency of doing that too, catching people off guard with his random speech patterns. "Because the girl Gus is seeing-and don't tell him I told you this, but she's like, really awesome-got all nine Jason movies and we're going to see how long we can last."

She didn't quite know what do with such an odd request. She actually… enjoyed horror movies, but… what an odd request.

"And we've got a complete stock of beer, imported, exported, regular ported." Shawn looked at her, unblinking and was no longer smiling. If she were asked to describe the situation, she might use adjectives such as uncomfortable, exciting, agitating. He wasn't smiling; his eyes were too… serious. "Nothing light though, we don't do light."

Juliet dipped her head and looked at her shoes, a shy smile perking her lips before she could halt it. "So you should come, so I'm not the third wheel. I mean, I wouldn't even go but Jason… come on, right?"

"Right," she agreed, shakily.

Shawn, for the first time since she had met him, looked unsure of himself; she could see it in the lines around his eyes. It was strangely intriguing, knowing that there was another facet to him, something deeper. "Uh, so… what time should I be there?" His eyes flared at her question and Juliet fought for something to say to break the seriousness of the moment. "And come to think of it, where does Gus live?"

Shawn coughed out a laugh and told her, heaving a sigh after he did so. "But yeah, thanks for saving me from the whole third wheel thing… wait, you're like… the fourth wheel. We could be a vehicle, an off-roading vehicle I think, those are the most exciting. Ohhh, maybe a Hummer, those things are dope-"

"Shawn! Time?"

And he stuttered, actually stuttered, and Juliet forgot about the time and the place. She forgot about what he'd asked of her, how she would respond. The only thing she could focus on was the shaking of his hands and the astonishment in his eyes. "Say, six, six-thirty?"

Six-thirty sounded like a perfect time, was a perfect time. "Sounds… good," she said, nearly whispered and smiled at him, her mouth bordering on a shaky grin.

Shawn paused for a moment, letting her response sink in, "Oh, awesome. So… cool."

"Cool." When had they reverted to bumbling teenagers, she wondered, amused.

"So… see you then… and I hope you like sausage on your pizza." He yelled the last bit over his shoulder as he jogged down the hallway.

And somehow, with that, her lips fell back into a thin line, one that she reserved for a more exasperated tone. "You know I don't like sausage!"

"More for me then," came his parting words as he slipped around a corner.

Juliet rolled her eyes; she harbored a feeling that she would be doing a lot more of that in the very-near future.