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Shawn was hovering around O'Hara's and Lassiter's desks. To the unobservant eye, Shawn seemed to be wrapped in conversation with O'Hara, but every now and then he snuck a look in Lassiter's direction.
The head detective had settled himself at his desk and hadn't moved from the spot, ever since they got back from the crime scene. Even when the lunch hour rolled around, Lassiter remained rooted to the spot, his eyes glued on whatever file he was currently reviewing.
Finally, around four in the afternoon, Shawn sauntered over to Lassiter's desk. He made sure to approach the detective from a clear angle, so to avoid startling him again.
"Can I help you, Spencer?" Lassiter asked gruffly, not looking up from yet another file.
"Why did you think she might be pregnant?"
"Just a hunch." Lassiter absently fidgeted under his desk.
"You don't go off hunches," Shawn said, picking up a ceramic paper weight with no real discernible shape and playing with it.
"Well maybe this time I do," Lassiter growled. "Now shoo."
Shawn put the paper weight down and began walking away. While he was in the hallway he turned back around and said, "Want to car pool tonight?"
"What?" Lassiter raised an eyebrow.
"For dinner, duh?" Shawn said as if it was obvious. "Jules invited us."
Lassiter threw a scathing look at O'Hara. She raised her hands up, looking indignant. "I did not!"
"Well, you should have, shame on you," Shawn chided her. "Anyway, see you at the Golden Parrot at seven." With that, he scampered out the exit.
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Despite his best efforts, Lassiter wasn't able to get out of dinner. All his excuses were utterly discredited by O'Hara, until he had nothing left.
Lassiter didn't understand why they couldn't have just gone somewhere else for dinner but O'Hara was unyielding. She said that reservations were near impossible to get at Santa Barbara's premier restaurants. It could be weeks until they had another opening.
"How did you get a table?" Lassiter asked.
"Excuse me?"
"How did you get a table?" Lassiter repeated. "If it's as hard to get a reservation as you say, especially since this dinner is supposed to be spur of the moment."
To Lassiter's horror, O'Hara was blushing.
"O'Hara, what is it?" He needled.
She waved a hand at him dismissively. "I had a date. They concealed. I guess they figured dating a detective wasn't worth the hassle." She shrugged.
"Well, he's an idiot."
O'Hara beamed at Lassiter.
The Golden Parrot was a weird fusion restaurant that couldn't quite make up its mind if it was Thai, Japanese, Chinese, or Korean, or all or none of the above.
In the entrance there stood a pale yellow water fountain, spurting water from a brass carp's mouth. Real bamboo grew at its base. There were long blue and green scrolls hanging from red pillars embroidered with the animals of the Chinese Zodiac. Small jade Buddhas and dragons filled every little nook and cranny in the restaurant.
Lassiter was enjoying soaking up the atmosphere till he spotted Shawn and Gus at a table with two empty seats.
"Lassie, Jules!" Shawn exclaimed joyfully. "Join us, won't you?"
Gus was already chowing down on some appetizers and only inclined his head as a greeting.
Lassiter reluctantly sat down in the empty seat, between O'Hara and Gus.
O'Hara beamed at them all. "No need to look at the menus, gentlemen. I called ahead. We are getting the full spread."
Gus and Shawn clapped their hands with excitement but Lassiter only felt a fresh wave of nausea.
Soon plates stacked high with chicken fried rice, shrimp tempura, salmon sushi, donburi, along with many other dishes Lassiter could not name or remember, filled the table.
O'Hara piled dish after dish upon Lassiter's plate. So not to instill worry, he tried to feign enthusiasm and gratitude for every exotic dish placed before him but with every nibble his body seemed to be in revolt. Every piece of food that he forced down his throat felt like a kick in the guts. It became so unbearable that Lassiter began to shovel his food onto Gus's plate whenever his head was turned. Lassiter assumed that either Gus didn't notice or was a willing accomplice in his scheme since Gus never drew attention to it.
When all the plates were mostly empty and everyone at the dinner table was looking satisfied and sleepy, Shawn turned to O'Hara with half open eyes. "Thank you, Jules. That was amazing."
"Delicious," Gus agreed, patting his stomach.
"Thank you, O'Hara," Lassiter said, smiling at her.
O'Hara took a sip of water before saying, "You're welcome."
"Not that we don't appreciate this wonderful dinner, but are we celebrating something?" Gus asked, patting his stomach again.
"Well, as you know, this began as a dinner for only Carlton and me—"
"What?' Gus sat up straight. "Shawn, you said we were invited!"
"But since I had you all here together, I figured I might as well take the opportunity to celebrate my one year anniversary of joining the SBPD with the people I care most about!"
Lassiter suddenly stood up. He looked visibly unnerved. "Please excuse me for a moment," he said before moving swiftly towards the exit.
All three of them watched Lassiter go with puzzled expressions on their faces.
"I'm sure he'll be right back," Gus said reassuringly. "I think such deep sentiment makes him uncomfortable."
O'Hara took another sip of her water, clearly unsure how to feel about Carlton's abrupt flight.
"I'm just going to go check on him," Shawn said, standing up and following Lassiter's path out of the restaurant.
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As soon as Lassiter was clear of the Golden Parrot, he began to run. He could feel this body protesting at the jarring movement but he didn't want to be sick where anyone-God forbid Gus, Shawn, or especially O'Hara—could see him. He ran five or six blocks before spiriting down an alley and retching.
If it hurt going down, it hurt twice as much coming back up. There was a dazzling level of agony that he had never experienced before.
After the entire contents of his stomach had been dispelled onto the pavement, Lassiter was able to straighten from his doubled over position. He breathed in deep ragged breaths, trying to make the pain subside. He wiped a sheen of sweat from his brow.
When his breath became even and the pain less severe, he started back towards the Golden Parrot on shaky legs. Halfway back, Lassiter remembered the pills in the inside pocket of his jacket. He quickly unscrewed the cap and swallowed them like candy. Lassiter had just recapped the pill bottle and stuck it back in his jacket pocket when Shawn tore around the corner.
"Lassie, where did you go?" Shawn demanded.
"I just needed some fresh air," he said gruffly.
"You've been gone for, like, twenty minutes."
Lassiter shook his watch free from his sleeve. He realized with a stab of humility that this action was frivolous because he had no idea when he had left the restaurant. "You're exaggerating, Spencer."
"No Lassie, I'm not. Juliet is really worried. She and Gus are back at the Golden Parrot waiting for us."
"Oh," was all Lassiter could manage to say as he followed Shawn.
As they walked, Shawn's anger seemed to ebb away and he softened. "Lassiter, is something wrong?"
"What do you mean?"
"You seem a bit off, I mean more off than usual," Shawn announced without turning around.
"I'm fine," Lassiter answered. He rolled his eyes at Spencer's choice with words.
"How did your meeting with your ex-wife go?" Shawn asked off-handedly.
Lassiter froze in his tracks. "How did you know?" He shook his head. "Never mind, it doesn't matter," Lassiter snapped fiercely. "It's none of your business."
Shawn sighed. "You're right." He paused before saying, "I'm sorry it didn't go the way you wanted it to."
Lassiter felt a flare of white hot rage spark inside him but it cooled just as quickly as it had appeared. "Me too," he said somberly.
