This chapter is a little short but this scene didn't really fit with the ones before or after it. So it gets to be on its own.
Enjoy.
"What are the odds?" Spencer asked.
"Don't you ever shut up?" Carlton asked wearily as they entered the police station. Over the past few days he had gotten used to the stares and now just ignored them.
They had just wrapped up the murder of the college roommate. O'Hara was bringing in the killer, which left Carlton the job of bringing Spencer back to the station to get his statement. The psychic had spent the entire car ride talking. Carlton was surprised blood wasn't pouring from his ears.
"I mean it Lassie," Spencer said, turning to him. "What are the odds? The first case you get after everyone finds out you're gay and it involves lesbians? Isn't that irony or something?" He grinned at Carlton, clearly finding the situation immensely amusing.
Carlton sighed. He had been wondering the same thing. It turned out the two roommates were lovers, a fact they had been keeping secret from their friends and family. Except then Emily had decided maybe she wasn't a lesbian after all and started dating one of the football players. When Sarah found out, she had killed Emily in a jealous rage, then left the body to 'find' when she returned from her trip Monday morning.
Spencer had 'divined' all of it this morning after dragging them down to the girls' dorm room. After hearing him explain her crime to the police, Sarah had snapped and attacked Spencer with a waffle iron. Carlton had managed to get it away from her before she could do too much damage. "How's your head?" he asked.
Spencer gingerly touched his head where Sarah had managed to hit him before Carlton disarmed her. "Sore. The bleeding seems to have stopped though." He held up his hand for Carlton to inspect, clearly free of any bodily fluids. "And I barely hear the ringing in my ears anymore."
Carlton rolled his eyes. "You really should have gone to the hospital to get checked out." He sat down at his desk and started pulling together the paperwork Spencer had to fill out.
Spencer sat down on the corner of the desk. Carlton hated when he did that but Spencer just ignored his glare. "But then you would have missed out on my company riding back to the station."
"I think I would have survived," he said dryly. He handed Spencer the forms. "Fill these out and you can leave."
Spencer pouted. "Trying to get rid of me already? Are my charming good looks too distracting for the female officers?" He struck a pose that Carlton supposed he thought made him look attractive. He noticed Spencer had more muscle tone than his lifestyle of junk food and video games would suggest.
With years of practice, Carlton put a stop to those thoughts. "Just get to work, Spencer."
"But I don't have anything to write with," Spencer whined.
Carlton grabbed a pen off his desk. "Here," he said, giving it to him. "I expect it back when you're done."
Spencer examined the pen. "Oooo! Can I have a blue one?" he asked. "I feel my words will look nicer against the page in blue. Black, not so much."
"Spencer," Carlton growled. He could feel a headache forming from having to put up with the inane chatter all morning. Enough was enough.
Spencer sighed heavily. "Fine, I guess I can make do with the black one." He grabbed the forms and moved off to an empty desk to work on them. "I hope you know this won't be even close to my best work," he called out.
Carlton shook his head, getting together his own paperwork. At least the forms would keep Spencer occupied for awhile, and quiet. His ears could use the rest. He worked quickly, trying to get as much of the hated paperwork done before the next distraction came along.
"What's this I hear about lesbians, Lassiter?" a voice said behind him.
Carlton sighed. Speaking of distractions he thought. Turning, he saw Jackson standing there with a smug look on his face, Milton and Jones right behind him.
"It was a case," he said shortly. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Spencer look up from his forms, watching them carefully.
"I guess that's why the chief gave it to you," Jackson said, smirking. "Let the freak deal with his own kind so the rest of us can do real police work." As if on cue, Milton and Jones both chuckled.
"Like arresting the wrong suspect in the gas station robberies?" Carlton asked. He grinned when Jackson's face flushed. "I heard you brought the roommate in by mistake. They still haven't found the real suspect."
"You better watch yourself, Lassiter," Jackson threatened. "Keep talking like that and someone's going to get hurt."
Carlton made a show of checking his watch. "Listen, I'd love to stay and chat, but some of us have cases to work on. So if you'll excuse me." He collected the files on his desk and stood Jackson, he walked towards the records room.
"This isn't over Lassiter," he heard Jackson call after him. He smiled to himself, absurdly pleased he had reduced Jackson to empty threats. He had been dealing with his crap all week. It felt good to finally strike back.
Carlton bypassed the records room, heading for the interrogation rooms. They should be empty right now and it would give him a quiet place to finish his report. He went inside the first room and sat down facing the door, glad to find it empty. He opened the file, trying to figure out what he had left.
Most of it would require his computer upstairs, but he could get started on his own statement.
He was just getting started when he heard the door open. He looked up to see Spencer enter the room. He sighed. So much for his peace and quiet.
"Lassie, there you are," Spencer said, walking over to him. "I thought you might have gotten lost in the bowels of the police station. I was getting ready to get together a search party." He grabbed the chair across from Carlton and turned it around, resting his arms on the back of it as he sat down. "I was going to get one of those scent dogs to track you down and everything."He paused. "Though I suppose I can still borrow the dog to find out where Gus keeps hiding all the snacks at the office."
"What do you want, Spencer?" Carlton asked.
Spencer held up his paperwork. "All finished." He frowned at the papers. "Though it would have been better in blue."
"Put them there," Carlton said, pointing to a spot on the table. He waited for Spencer to put the files down before holding out his hand. "My pen?" he asked pointedly.
"Right," Spencer said. He pulled it out of his pocket. "Here you go."
Carlton dropped it as soon as it hit his hand. "It's wet," he said with disgust. He pulled out a handkerchief to wipe off his hand.
Spencer shrugged. "I chew on the end of my pen when I'm thinking," he said unapologetically.
Carlton used the handkerchief to push the pen towards Spencer. "Keep it," he said. "I'd probably get rabies from it or something."
Spencer looked offended. "I'll have you know I'm up to date on all my shots."
Carlton rolled his eyes. "Congratulations. Now get out."
Spencer pouted. "But Lassie. . ."
"I'm busy, Spencer," Carlton said. He pointed at the door. "There's the door. Use it." He bent his head and started working on his statement again, acting as if Spencer wasn't even there. He hoped if he ignored the psychic for long enough, Spencer would get bored and find someone else to annoy.
He could feel Spencer's eyes watching him. It was a decidedly unsettling feeling. After a few minutes, the man sighed, loudly. Carlton refused to look up.
Spencer fidgeted in his chair, the scrapping sounds echoing in the small room. He still didn't look up.
Spencer started to whistle, probably some awful but popular pop song, the sound immediately putting Carlton on edge.
He threw down his pen and glared at the psychic. "What?" he growled.
"You know, you really shouldn't let things bother you so much, Lassie," Spencer said with a smug grin. "You got to relax and enjoy life. Live a little. Which is why you should come to the bar with me, Gus, and Jules tonight to celebrate another successful closing of a case."
"No," Carlton said shortly. He grabbed his pen and tried to once again focus on his statement.
"It'll be fun," Spencer said.
"No."
"But Jules really wanted you to come," Spencer whined. "It was all her idea."
That made him pause. O'Hara had been trying to mend things between them over the past week. She brought in fresh coffee and muffins every day and volunteered to finish all his paperwork. Still, it would mean a night spent in Spencer's company.
"Please Lassie," Spencer said, using his best puppy dog look. "Please come out drinking with us. I promise if you get drunk again I'll have Gus give you a ride home."
Carlton sighed. "If I say yes, will you let me get back to work."
Spencer seemed to think about it. "Maybe."
It was probably the best he could get. "Fine, I'll go," he said reluctantly.
"Great," Spencer said, leaping out of the chair. "Tom Blair's, 7 o'clock. Don't be late." He sauntered to the door, pausing to look back before leaving the room. "By the way, nice job with Jackson. It was almost as good as something I would have said." He gave Carlton a grin and left.
Carlton took a deep breath, rubbing a hand over his face. He was already starting to regret his decision to go. He still had time to find a way to get out of it, if he wanted to. He knew he wouldn't though. He couldn't afford to alienate O'Hara more than he already had. She was one of the few people who would still work comfortably with him.
And Spencer is another his treacherous brain reminded him. He quickly shut that thought down. Spencer was nothing but a nuisance. O'Hara was his partner. As upset with her as he was at the moment, they needed to find a way to work together. If that meant going to a bar for awkward small talk and overpriced drinks, so be it. He'd go, have a couple of drinks, and duck out as early as he could.
Satisfied with his plan, he buckled down to finish the report.
The next chapter is half written and I should have it done for next week. It will be a long chapter and will involve alcohol and Juliet telling a story.