"Oh, pull over here!" Shawn ordered suddenly, tugging on Lassiter's arm with one hand and pointing at a Starbucks across the street with the other.

"No!" Lassiter returned, glaring at him, not about to take a directive from a fake cop.

"Spencer…" Shawn growled threateningly, barely able to contain his laughter. "Who's the head detective here? You or me?"

"You are." Lassiter growled through clenched teeth, his fingers tightening around the steering wheel.

"Then pull over!" Shawn intoned sternly. Lassiter grunted obstinately and rolled his eyes, but pulled the car over and parked in front of the coffee shop, shooting Shawn a scowl that spoke volumes about the pain that would be inflicted later for that one.

"Why are we stopping here?" Nancy asked, looking around curiously at the quiet street. "Is it a crime scene?"

"No," Shawn grinned, already getting out of the car. "But they have a raspberry-chocolate scone that's to die for!" He poked his head back into the car, grinning at Lassiter as he shut the door. "Aren't you coming, Spencer? Psychics eat scones, too, don't they?"

"Actually, a scone sounds good," Nancy agreed, jumping out of the backseat. "And I never had my coffee this morning."

"Sometimes, I like to flash my badge at the people who work at Starbucks." Shawn told her as they walked towards the coffee shop. "I like to see the fear in their eyes. And they give you free stuff!"

"Isn't that considered accepting a bribe?" Nancy asked.

"The jury's still out on that one…" Shawn shrugged. "But I'm not allowed to discuss pending charges."

Lassiter was out of the car now, too. He caught up with Shawn in three quick strides, grabbing him by the collar and dragging him back to the curb. Nancy went into Starbucks, completely oblivious to the fact that she was alone now.

"Pending charges?" he growled angrily. "Spencer! I've never accepted a bribe!"

"Really?" Shawn snorted in disbelief. "What do you call that donut I gave you last week?"

"Donuts aren't bribes!" Lassiter shouted, his grip on Shawn's collar tightening. "And it was my donut, anyway! I just caught you trying to abscond with it!"

"Well, now you're just making up words!" Shawn laughed. "Abscond? Seriously? That doesn't even sound real."

"Spencer!"

Shawn shook his hand off, gently dusting off the lapel of Lassiter's jacket. "Watch it," he warned. "This is an Italian suit."

"It's not Italian!" Lassiter shouted. "I think I know the suit's ethnicity! I'm the one who bought it!"

"Oh, yeah?" Shawn shot back. "If it's not Italian, how come all the psychic vibes I'm getting from it involve some guy named Mario?"

He raised a single eyebrow, as if in dawning realization. "Lassie!" he gushed, knowing even as he spoke the words that he was pressing his luck. "Is there something you want to tell me? Do you have a special someone?"

"Spencer!" Lassiter snarled, his fists curling and his face pulsing with alternating shades of red and purple.

"Oh…" Shawn nodded with sage understanding, completely unaffected by the detective's ire. "Are you Mario? Does 'Mario' have a cape?"

Lassiter's eyes had narrowed into slits so small Shawn could barely tell they were even open. He grabbed Shawn by the collar again, twisting it around his fingers as he pulled the psychic close, on the verge of pummeling him right then and there. "You know when this is over, I'm killing you, right?" he growled, looming over him with as intimidating an air as he could muster in the ridiculous plaid shirt he was wearing. "And I'm a cop, Spencer. I won't serve a day in jail."

Shawn deftly pulled away from Lassiter's claw-like grip and stepped back. "So…basically, I'm dead no matter what I do at this point?" he concluded.

Lassiter nodded firmly. "Oh, yeah."

Shawn just shrugged, clapping Lassie on the back and heading inside, not appearing the least bit concerned by the detective's ire. "Then I guess I'd better live it up while I can."