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To say Lassiter had had a bad day was an understatement. It was Christmas Eve, and nothing had gone right. For starters, whoever had made the coffee at the station had put too much water in the machine, and the coffee was disgustingly weak. If he had thought that was bad, the rest of his day qualified as horrible, terrible, and all around rotten.
He had chased a suspect down the beach for what felt like five miles, and the chase had only ended when he caught up close enough to the man to tackle him. Being that they were on the beach, the ensuing tussle had resulted in the head detective's best suit being soaked in the surf.
Thankfully he had a change of clothes at the station, but he still had had to drive back to the station covered in damp sand. His suit could be salvaged at a dry cleaners, but he had had to throw out his shoes – which were also his best. That was the last time he dressed nicely for Christmas Eve. Holidays were overrated anyway, just excuses for people to play hooky from their jobs and create chaos in the shopping malls – which were perfect environments for petty criminals.
And the day hadn't improved after he had gotten a fresh suit of clothes either. After multiple calls, he pretty much gave up on getting any paperwork done, and his lunch had only consisted of the few bites of a sandwich he had managed to snatch between said calls.
It was now almost eight in the evening, and he was only heading to his car this early because Chief Vick had ordered him to leave the station. She had instructed him to stay away until at least December 27, and Lassiter was dreading his forced vacation.
He had never liked the holidays, except for that first wonderful Christmas after he and Victoria had been married. Then it became a reason for him to be guilted into celebrating with his in-laws – if celebrating could even be used correctly for the situation. He didn't miss that part of the holidays this year at all, but the other part … At times, he found himself harkening back to that first Christmas and wishing that could be Christmas every year. Of course, it was a silly fantasy, one that was completely unrealistic and had no business being inside his head anyway.
Just then, his phone began ringing. He sighed, checking the caller id and sighing again, this time with a groan of annoyance mixed in. Whenever the Psych office phone called him, it couldn't be good news.
"What is it?" he snapped, answering the call.
"You'd better cut out the naughty act, Lassie. There's still time to make it onto Santa's good list," came the voice from the other end.
Lassiter rolled his eyes. "Spencer, I am not in the mood for games."
"Aw, and the reindeer wanted you to come join them. They're one player short since they won't let Rudolph join."
"What are you going on about, Spencer?" Lassiter could almost see the other man's grin of satisfaction at being such an annoyance.
"I'm sensing you need to come down to the Psych office," Shawn told him, managing to level his voice to a small amount of seriousness. "It's very important."
"Spencer, it's Christmas Eve."
"Exactly! Look, Lassie, I wouldn't ask normally, but I really need you." Shawn's tone took on an edge of pleading. "Do you want to spend the night wondering if you did the right thing by ignoring me?"
Lassiter's brow furrowed. He wouldn't put it past Shawn to make up some story just to trick him into coming down to the office where some prank was undoubtedly waiting for him. He was even pretty sure the pleading was faked. However, he couldn't rid his mind of the thought that Shawn had planted there, that it might really be something important. Shawn had a way of getting into people's heads, and as much as he hated to admit it, he knew that if it turned out to be of importance and he hadn't gone … Well, he wouldn't regret it, necessarily, but he would definitely not be pleased with himself.
Besides, it wasn't too far of a drive. He could go and come back within a reasonable amount of time.
"Fine, Spencer, I will come down to the office. But if it turns out you are just wasting my time, I will not hesitate to shoot you, Christmas Eve or no Christmas Eve."
"Got it. Thanks, Lassie!" And with that, Shawn hung up the phone.
Lassiter was pretty sure he heard glee in the psychic's voice with that last sentence.
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"I got it!" Shawn nearly tripped over the coffee table as he bolted to answer the knock on the office door.
Gus looked over from where he was retrieving a jug of eggnog from the refrigerator, nearly knocking a strand of garland off of the appliance in the process. "Is that Lassiter?"
"Nah," Shawn replied, returning with the newcomer by his side. "But it is Jules!"
Juliet waved to Gus with one hand, her other occupied with two festively-decorated gift bags. "Hey, Gus."
"Glad you could come." Shawn held out a hand for the bags. "Can I take those off your hands? And which one is for me?"
"Shawn!" Gus chided, shooting Juliet an apologetic look.
"Well, Gus, there are two bags and two of us. Who else are they for?" Shawn defended himself, shaking the bags by his ear.
Juliet shook her head. "Yes, Shawn, the red one is yours." She took the gold bag from his hands and handed it to Gus. "And this is yours. So, Shawn," she continued, hanging her jacket on a hook by the door. "So, why the impromptu party tonight? You never told me anything besides the time and place."
"Well, we were all not busy tonight. Your family isn't coming into town, Gus' parents won that cruise contest, and my dad only invited me over for Christmas day. And then Lassie never celebrates anything, so I thought we should have a little team time together." Shawn shrugged, busying himself with the contents of the bag. "Ooh! Jules, you shouldn't have. Gus, no touching my candy canes!"
"Shawn realized the other day that this is Lassiter's first Christmas since the divorce was final," Gus answered Juliet's question. "He apparently settled on a party for cheering him up."
"Really? Shawn, that's so thoughtful," Juliet smiled. "I was going to invite him over to my place again, but it didn't turn out quite so well last time."
Shawn looked up. "Gus, what have I told you about spilling secrets?" he fussed, though Gus could tell his friend was pleased with the compliment.
"I'm just glad it didn't involve snow globes," Gus said, shaking his head. "Lassiter was ready to shoot you last year; I think he wouldn't hesitate this time."
For his part, Shawn didn't seem fazed by the memory. "Please, Gus. Lassieface would never shoot me. He loves me too much."
A knock at the door interrupted any further conversation. Shawn shot to his feet. "I got it!" he shouted again, hurrying to answer it.
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Lassiter was tapping his foot impatiently, arms crossed as he waited for someone to answer the door at the Psych office. The lights were on, which meant someone was most likely there and the two consultants were not off laughing at his coming down to the office on a wild goose chase. Unless they had left the lights on intentionally …
His thoughts were interrupted by Shawn's grinning face as the psychic flung open the door. "Laaaaassie!" Shawn sang. "Great to see you. Come on in."
Lassiter brushed past him into the front room, turning to face the shorter man. "What was so important that you had to drag me all the way down here?"
"You'll see." There was a conspiratorial look on Shawn's face that Lassiter did not like one bit. Shawn reached a hand to pull Lassiter into the second room of the office but apparently thought better of it and dropped his arm back to his side. "Right this way!"
Lassiter begrudgingly followed him, scowling as he did so. He may have done what Spencer asked by coming down to the Psych office, but he sure didn't have to be happy about it.
He blinked as they stepped into the brighter lit area, not expecting the sight that met his eyes.
There was a small Christmas tree set up in the corner, complete with lights and a ridiculous display of ornaments. Garlands adorned the desks and fridge, and several other holiday-themed decorations, including what looked like pineapples bedecked with Santa hats, were perched around the room on tables and shelves. There was a stack of gaily-wrapped boxes under the tree, and several gift bags sat on one of the desks. Lassiter was almost positive Juliet or Gus had done the majority of the decorating, since most of the room actually looked neat and organized.
"Spencer, what the heck is all this?"
Shawn was nearly bouncing in excitement. "Do you like it?" He snatched a plate of cookies from the coffee table, pushing it into Lassiter's hands. "Here, have a cookie. Oh, and Gus brought eggnog and hot chocolate; I don't know which you'd rather. And then we have games and presents and –"
"Spencer!" Lassiter interrupted the rambling before Shawn could embarrass himself any further. He was still trying to decide why Shawn had gotten into his head to drag him into this mess of a holiday party.
Somehow, Shawn didn't look like he agreed with the timing of the interruption. "What's eating at you, Lassiclaus? It's Christmas! The time for joy and cheer and all that jazz." He reached over and grabbed a Santa hat from his desk. "Here, this is yours."
Juliet seemed to take the infuriated look on Lassiter's face as her cue, and she hurried across the room to join Shawn and her partner. "Carlton, why don't you have a seat?"
Taking the interruption into his and Lassiter's conversation as an indication that he needed to finish getting things ready, Shawn bounced off to the kitchen to help Gus. Things seemed to turn into a bit of a blur after that, with Shawn and Gus rushing around with various plates and bowls of holiday treats, and at some point Shawn pulled out what had to be the creepiest Christmas decorations in history. Lassiter highly suspected they had been leftover from Halloween.
Later that night, though, when Shawn and Gus were once again busy with their heads in the refrigerator and Juliet was in the bathroom, Lassiter allowed himself a small smile. He would never have agreed to the get-together if someone had straight-up asked him, but he had to admit that he was somewhat glad he had been tricked into coming. Spencer was definitely an annoyance sometimes, but it was times like tonight that he was glad to know the man.
"All right! Time for carols!" Shawn gleefully announced, bouncing back to join the head detective. "I thought we'd go with karaoke this year."
And then other times, being the one with a gun and handcuffs had its advantages.