Warning for slight OOC-ness
"Oh, HA! HAHA! HAHAHAHAHAHA!" Gus was bent over in his chair, arm propping himself up on the desk for support. His laughter filled the Psych office. In fact, a few passers by stopped and peered into the window curiously. Shawn had just told Gus his theory.
"Gus? What's so funny? It is not THAT ridiculous!"
"Oh, it is, Shawn, it is. Lassiter and McNab. HA!"
"Am I really the only one that ships it?"
"What?"
"Am I the only one that ships it?"
"Ship?"
"Yeah, Gus. Ship."
"What so you mean, Shawn?"
"Like ship! I found the term online. It is used in this thing called fan fiction. It is when you want to people who belong together to be together or something like that."
"Fanfiction? Really? Are you a teenage girl?"
"Not last time I checked, but that is beside the point. Lassiter has a crush on McNab, and I need to get those two together if it kills me."
"Okay, Shawn. I'll humor you. Let's say your crazy theory is right. You supposedly know that Lassiter likes McNab. Do you know if McNab likes Lassiter?"
The psychic began pacing the office, "He has to! A strong Irish hairline like that!"
"Shawn, initial attraction is physical, yes, but there has to be something more for a relationship to happen. But, do you even know if McNab is, uh, attracted to Lassiter. Ugh, I never thought I would say those words. 'Attracted to Lassiter'. It feels like walking over my own grave."
"I know, but everyone deserves love. And, no, I do not know about McNab yet. But I just have this gut feeling about this. McNab feels the same way. I just know it."
"Well, Shawn, go out and prove your gut, then go from there. Just don't make a fool of- never mind. Already crossed that line. I just can't help but think that these guys, especially Lassiter, would want you meddling in their business. Lassiter is likely to shoot you."
"But if all goes well, he'll be with the love of his life all thanks to this meddling kid!"
"Whatever, Shawn. Forget my advice. Take your outdated cartoon references and go. I want no ties to this."
"Too late. You're in this as deep as I am now!"
"Shawn..."
"Come, Guster! To the bat mobile!"
With that, Shawn spun on his heels and fled the office. His partner followed behind him reluctantly. Someone had to make sure the idiot did not get himself arrested.
Buzz sat at his desk. The report in front of him had been resting there for awhile now, gathering dust. The officer was fiddling with a pen, rolling it across his desk in boredom. Desk duty was the absolute worst.
The only thing that made it bearable (or unbearable, it just depends on the moment) was the fact that the uniform's desk had a perfect view of a certain Head Detective's. Apparently Spencer had driven Lassiter away from the reports last night, because the detective had been told that he could not go anywhere until they were done. McNab's were much less pressing, so he had time to daydream.
The officer liked watching Lassiter work. He liked how the older man bent over his desk slightly. He like how the detective always wrote with neat efficiency and a touch of urgency. He like how, like now, when the other man was concentrating, his eyebrows came together just so. All those tiny little details made McNab's skin crawl. It almost felt like-
No. No. Hell no. No. That was silly. But- Poor Buzz had let his thoughts wander down a very uncomfortable path. AGAIN. Suddenly the man was very thankful for his desk.
"Chief, there has got to be something interesting to work on!"
"I'm sorry, Spencer. With the wrap-up of those suicide homicides, we've hit a slow point. You should be happy. It means there is not much crime right now. Don't you take private clients?"
"Yeah, but no one has been coming in."
"Well, sorry. No can do. I don't have any cases for you."
Shawn began to pout like a two year old about to go on a tantrum. Gus smiled and thanked the chief, then began to pull his friend out of the office.
"Gus, I cannot believe that there isn't a case. How am I supposed to observe Lassie without him noticing now?"
"You could just drop it like I said to, Shawn."
"I just can't! It's my duty!"
"Isn't that a band?"
"Oh, look! Buzz!"
The psychic skipped around the various desks to the young officer. Shawn performed a move he had perfected the previous night, the swivel-chair-sit-down-thingy. The young man made a note in his head to think of a cooler name for it later. Gus just walked behind, looking very embarrassed by his partners antics. The salesman also worried for the officer to whom Shawn was addressing.
"Buzz! How's the desk treating you?" McNab started and looked at Shawn. The man had a red tint to his cheeks and seemed very uncomfortable. Gus didn't notice this, however, the pseudo psychic did. "I'm feeling boredom, restlessness, and... I can't seem to place it. It's your aura. It just seems to, I dunno, shine today. There's only a few things that cause that. Extreme anger, depression, self loathing, listening to 1D, ATTRACTION-"
"I'm not any of those things, Shawn. I really have to get back to my reports," now even Guster could see the uncomfortable shift that Buzz did in his seat. The partner lifted his eyebrow at Shawn, silently communicating. The other man was too busy thinking of a more subtle way of outing (haha, OUTING, Shawn thought) the desk imprisoned uniform.
"Hey, Gus, remember that game we always played as teenagers?"
"No."
"Ah, come on! Oh, maybe I just heard about it. Well, Buzz, how about a game to take your mind off things for a few minutes We can play right here and no one would be the wiser."
McNab did want something to take his mind of his Head Detective, but he was not certain that playing any game, even I Spy, with Spencer was a good idea. He remembered the Spin-the-Bottle game at O'Hara's welcome party. He had been lucky enough to not be a participant, but he had heard the horror stories. Apparently Officer Heeley and Detective Louse are expecting a baby girl come Spring.
"I think I'll pass. Thanks, though."
"Buzz!" Shawn pulled out his best pout. McNab ignored him with all his strength. In an attempt not to look at the face of the psychic, which was edging steadily closer to make the pout more effective, the officer looked around the room. Big mistake. Lassiter was looking up from his desk to the one clock in the precinct, which was just visible down the hall over McNab's head. It looked as though those bright blue eyes were staring right at the uniform. Buzz's stomach dropped to his knees and suddenly he was very thankful for his desk. AGAIN.
"What's the game?"
"Are you sure you want to do that?" Gus asked. He flinched as if he had been kicked and quickly limped to sit on the desk that Shawn had pulled his chair from.
"Sure he's sure! Okay, the games called marry, shag, throw off a cliff."
McNab was confused, "I have heard of something like that, but was is 'shag'?"
"It is the common, or slang, European term for having sex with someone," Gus readily supplied.
"Really, Gus. Off the top of your head. Have you been watching Torchwood again?"
"Anyone can look something like that up on the internet, Shawn!"
"Whatever."
"Why did you use that word anyway, Spencer?" McNab asked.
"Oh, I just heard about the game that way first. Anyway, rule is that Gus and I get to say the name of anyone in the room at the moment, and you have to tell us if you would marry them, shag them, or throw them off a cliff."
"I'm not sure I want to play. It is rather personal."
"Oh, come on!"
"Shawn, he doesn't have to. Maybe you should stop being nosy."
"Please, Buzz? Please? I can feel it in your aura, you want to!"
"FINE."
"Yippee!"
Shawn got up from his chair and began whispering with Gus. He managed to convince his partner to play along. He was sure if he could just get Buzz off his guard, he would have the proof that Gus needs to believe in the ship. The officer began to have a growing sense of apprehension, and he looked around to see if anyone had noticed the scene. No one had. Most of the other officers were busy with their own reports, or just busy looking bored out of their minds.
"Okay, we'll start off slow and get faster. Gus and I will tag team. Ready?"
"I guess..."
"JULIET?"
"Marry."
"CHIEF?"
"Marry."
"LOUSE?"
"Cliff."
"HEELEY?"
"Cliff?"
"THAT CREEPY GUY THAT BRINGS DONUTS?"
"Marry."
"Lassiter?"
"Shag."
"Ohhh..."
McNab covered his mouth, eyes darting all around them. Everyone was still working, not having paid an attention to the psychic duo's whisper-yells. Shawn was grinning like a loon as Buzz turned beet red. Gus was standing with his jaw just slightly agape. The pseudo psychic began bouncing on his heels in glee.
"You set me up!"
"Yes, I did! Now I know you and Lassie over there like each other!"
"What?"
"You two like each other! Gosh, it's kind of gross. How old is Lassie, like fifty."
"thirty-eight."
"Gus, really. Just off the top of your head?"
"It is on the calendar in the reception area!"
"Fine, whatever. Now you have your proof, so we can start working on out new case. Well, you can join on my old case. Your new one."
Dread began to fill the young policeman's gut, "What case? You're not going to tell anyone? Please, you just can't!" The officer was begging. He couldn't even imagine the embarrassment. If Lassiter ever knew... McNab had heard Shawn when he said his attraction to the Head Detective was reciprocated, but he just could not believe it.
"No, we won't tell anyone, that's up to you. Our case is Operation Love-Muffin."
"Really, Shawn, Love-Muffin. You need to consult me before you go off naming our cases."
"WELL, if SOMEONE hadn't been so reluctant to join my crusade, he might have gotten a say."
"You had no-"
"Guys!" interrupted McNab. "Operation what?"
"Love-Muffin. We are going to get you and Lassie-face over there together if it kills us."
"Uh, I'm not ready of that kind of commitment, Shawn."
Buzz looked around again, astounded at the fact that no one was paying this conversation any mind. They were all oblivious to the young officer's mounting panic. Shawn and Gus on a case trying to set him up with his totally out of reach crush. It was a nightmare.
"Guys, just leave it be! Now go, I need to fill out these reports. Just leave it."
"Don't worry, man. We'll get you all sorted. Just leave it to us."
With that, Shawn left, followed by a very apologetic looking Gus. McNab just held his face in his hands. This was not good at all. So not good. Buzz peeked between his fingers at the Head Detective. The other man must have been bored as well, because he was looking at the clock again. He jerked his head back to his desk and began to write once more. He reached for his coffee, the exact coffee that McNab had brought him earlier that morning. He tilted his head back to get the last few drops out, then licked his lips as he set the cup down.
Buzz McNab really loved his desk.
Sorry, but I just thought I should note. Last time I did the math, Timothy Omundson was 44. I checked the air date for "9 Lives", so I believe that he was thirty eight when the episode took place. Whatever. What do you care? Meaningless details...
