Part 21: Not Enough

Juliet continued wiping the kitchen table top with the over-used sponge. For hours she had been tidying up and cleaning what she could in order to distract herself. This way she figured at least one thing in her life would be in order.

The desired effect was beginning to fade and her mind kept going back to the moments she'd tried to forget. She cursed herself for not saying anything sooner. She cursed Shawn for throwing the baby shower. She cursed Grace for running her mouth.

But no matter what she couldn't hate Carlton for what he said, despite how much his words had hurt and the coldness in his blue eyes. Scrubbing harder, Juliet tried to push the image of him from her thoughts.

"Juliet?"

The pregnant woman was startled by her mother's sudden appearance in the kitchen doorway. She squeezed her cleaning sponge tightly in her fist, causing suds to creep out through her fingers, before taking a seat.

"You didn't come back to your party. We were worried about you." Mrs O'Hara explained, sitting opposite her daughter.

Juliet hesitated for a moment, wishing she hadn't left the door open to ventilate the cleaning chemicals, before asking the only thing she could bring herself to. "Where's Grace?"

"After last night, I thought it was a little more tactful that she stayed at the hotel while we talk." Mrs O'Hara looked towards the pregnant woman, who resembled a younger version of herself. She couldn't believe that their close relationship had been tarnished by such a big secret. "Why didn't you tell us that Carlton was the father?"

Juliet honestly couldn't give a real answer to that question anymore. Every explanation she had given in the past seemed so pathetic. It all boiled down to the fact that she'd been too scared to fight for Carlton and lost him as a result.

"It doesn't matter anyway."

The older woman took her daughter's hands. "Whether you like it or not, honey, it matters."

"I don't know why I didn't say anything." Juliet sighed, squeezing her mom's hands briefly and finally turning to look at her. "I tried so hard to do the right thing. I didn't want to hurt anyone. And maybe I was a little nervous about what people may think. But the look on his face, the things he said…"

She stood up and made a beeline for the fridge. Since cleaning her emotions away was no longer an option, eating them seemed like a good way to go. As luck would have it, a half full tub of strawberry ice-cream sat in the freezer for her.

"And I know, I know. The family all has issues with him. He tells inappropriate stories, makes weird grudge lists and is way too into his work. On top of that he's stubborn and can be really insensitive." Juliet grabbed a spoon for her ice-cream, gingerly placing the tub down on the table as she contemplated everything.

Mrs O'Hara had been through many of these scenarios with her daughter throughout the years. She watched with care, knowing that it was best to let Juliet talk things out. In her eyes, it was obvious what the younger woman was feeling, but it was important to let her figure it out. So she sat and watched while Juliet continued staring at the apparently fascinating ice-cream lid.

"And here I am with Shawn. Everybody likes Shawn. It's impossible not to like him." Juliet continued, her eyes turning to her mother with realisation. "But I know that I'm in love with Carlton. I wanted Shawn for years but I think deep down it's always been Carlton. Now because I was so scared of hurting people and making the wrong decision I've lost him and I don't want to lose him."

"How exactly have you lost him, honey?" Mrs O'Hara asked, concerned for her daughter's well being.

"Because I didn't fight for him when it counted." Juliet echoed the words that Carlton had said to her. While opening the ice-cream, she bit her lip at the memory.

"Give him a day or two to cool off and then talk to him. You two are having a baby together after all and by the sounds of things, he loves you but he's been pride wounded." Mrs O'Hara laughed at some of the memories of her own love. "Your father could be the same way, but when it came down to it he always showed he cared."

Juliet nodded, not sure if she truly agreed or not. Her mind drifted back on all the little ways Carlton would show that he loved her. It wasn't always obvious, like Shawn's theatrics, but she always knew. One look into his azure orbs said more than grand gestures from another ever could.

As she thoughtfully took a scoop of ice-cream, she knew what she had to do.

Shawn placed another layer of wallpaper perfectly on the wall of the soon to be nursery. He could not offer an explanation as to why he had started doing it and, since Juliet wasn't home, he didn't currently have to. All he knew was that if he stopped working, stopped pasting up the pretty pink floral patterns, everything would suddenly be real.

He had no idea what he would say to Juliet when she came through the door. The wallpaper would at least provide a conversation starter, not to mention that he had technically broken in. It was a welcome distraction to keep him from looking directly at her, at least for a moment.

The moment Juliet's arm had slipped from his hand the night before it had confirmed all his suspicions. The look in her eyes, along with the body language he observed between the future parents from a safe distance was just rubbing it in. Even though it was clear they were fighting, the way the blonde woman touched the head detective so desperately spoke volumes.

While he'd had many gut feelings about Juliet and Lassiter, it still shocked him to find out the truth behind them. He had done so much in order to make Juliet happy and keep her in his life, loving him. Everyone else had him convinced the thoughts were paranoia working over time.

The unofficial yet obvious revelations were enough to get Shawn pondering about everything in their relationship. He couldn't help but wonder if Juliet had ever loved him, considering her initial reluctance to say the words. The thoughts caused hitches in his forced calm breaths and nearly made the wallpaper crooked.

Shawn wanted to be angry with her. He wanted to cry, like he had been close to doing the night before. He longed for the days when nameless affairs were enough to sustain and thrill him. But everything he'd been taught told him to act as if nothing was wrong; though he continued to mentally slap himself for missing the signs that were right in front of his face.

"Shawn, what are you doing here?" Juliet stepped into the room, watching him put up the wallpaper. She could see past his carefree façade to the upset man inside. "You don't have to do that."

"I said I would. I keep my promises." Shawn was avoiding looking at her, focusing on the pretty pink flowers that made up the wallpaper pattern.

"I went to the Psych office looking for you." Juliet was shuffling, watching Shawn with guilty eyes and wishing he would stop for a moment. "I think we should talk."

"About what, exactly? The weather? A case? Or the fact that I'm not the blue-eyed Irishman that you've been screwing behind my back?"

Juliet reached out a hand to touch Shawn compassionately, but then thought better of it. "I'm sorry. Yes, we kissed. But it just happened-"

"I don't want to know, Jules!" Shawn snapped, throwing the strip of wallpaper he held down to the floor. In the process his eyes met hers, taking in every shade and emotion. It was an action he immediately regretted, as feelings began to surface.

"You're right, that was inappropriate. I just wanted to explain."

"Jules, I get that you love Lassiter, okay?" Shawn's voice had calmed, but he felt his stomach flip as he spoke the words aloud. "You want to be with him, not with me. And because of that, I'm taking this conversation as an official break up. So pop the champagne and go be with Lassie."

Juliet folded her arms and sighed. "Well if it makes you feel any better, I don't think Carlton and I will be getting together. He basically doesn't want to know me right now."

"Yes Jules. That totally makes me forget that the woman I love is in love with another guy." Shawn replied sarcastically, while approaching tears began to assault the corners of his eyes.

"What do you want me to say?" Juliet threw her arms up in frustration. "I tried doing the right thing Shawn, but it didn't work. I'm sorry that I don't feel the way you do. I wish more than anything that I did."

"Well then it's a pity I'm a psychic and not a genie then." Shawn sighed, staring the half covered wall, unable to look at Juliet anymore. "I'll bring over the rest of the baby stuff later, since you left your party in kind of a hurry."

Shawn stormed towards the door, biting his lip and desperately fighting against his inner depression. He knew that coming to Juliet's, pretending to be okay, was a stupid move but, like most things that came into his head, he had done it anyway.

Juliet caught his arm, stopping Shawn before he could leave. "It was something I just had to do. Just like you did with Abby. You understand."

"Leave her out of this. Besides, we weren't together then." Shawn jerked his arm away, not wanting to feel her touch on his bare skin. The softness he once craved was now something he couldn't bare.

"Okay, fine." Juliet whispered in reply, folding her arms across her chest. "Goodbye Shawn."

Shawn walked towards the front door, every step making him feel increasingly nauseated. He kept picturing the two cops together, as though he had seen the visions in his mind right in front of his face.

The only legitimate memory was one from the Policeman's Ball, where he'd caught Juliet and Lassiter exchanging confused, yet longing, glances for a second. High on love, Shawn had dismissed the moment as insignificant since Lassiter had never really liked him anyway.

The hyper-observant man had never felt so blind in his entire life.

It was a night that Shawn should have been celebrating with Juliet. He had even reserved a dinner with her mother and aunt, hoping to make a good impression on the family. Afterwards he had figured that some alone time with his lady would be on the agenda, possibly ice-cream and a romantic walk or cuddle session.

Above all, he had wanted to tell her his dark secret. Despite what he had told Gus, the man had planned to tell Juliet he wasn't psychic. Shawn hadn't wanted any more secrets between them. In his growing maturity, the pseudo-psychic wanted more honesty out of the relationship he believed would last the rest of his life.

Instead he found himself walking into Tom Blair's pub as a single man, the irony of wishing for honesty not lost on him, wanting nothing more than to wash his troubles away with a couple of vodka sodas.

As he sat down and people watched, Shawn entertained the possibility of a rebound fling, but he knew that would not come to pass. Even if Juliet didn't love him and they weren't together anymore, something about the notion felt like a betrayal to their relationship.

As luck would have it, just as he looked up from his empty glass to order a second vodka soda, Shawn spotted the last person he wanted to see. Carlton sat at a table far from the entrance, a spot where patrons would leave him alone and waitresses would keep the drinks coming.

The drink was placed in front of him and Shawn squeezed the glass to the point where he was sure it would break in his grip. He fought the urge to look at the man who'd basically ruined his life. Hitting a cop would not be the best idea, especially one who would look for any excuse to lock him up.

Yet despite all the reasons Shawn had to stay away from the head detective, a few questions ran through his mind. The most obvious being why Carlton was at a bar, nursing a glass of scotch, when a beautiful woman wanted to be with him? Why wasn't he taking this chance to get one over on Shawn, like he desperately tried to do every single day?

Before he could even grasp what he was doing, Shawn found himself standing by Carlton's table. He took deep breaths, trying to think clearly about what to do next. The bubbling fury in his stomach was begging to be released in a fist to Lassiter's face.

"Spencer, but of course you'd come here to rub salt in the wounds."

Shawn shook his head, balling one hand into a fist. His resistance was wearing thin. "What wounds? The only wounds you have are the ones I imagine causing you. But I'm not going to give you the satisfaction of locking me up for assaulting a police officer."

"In the interest of saving time, why don't you just tell me what you want and get lost?" Lassiter downed the last of his drink, beginning to sway slightly on his stool. "Surely, you and O'Hara have something planned."

"Considering she broke up with me for you, I think that any plans we did have are officially cancelled." Shawn stepped closer to the table, still not sitting down nor calming.

"What the hell are you talking about? If I didn't know any better I'd say you were trying to get me to hit you." Lassiter's eyes had become wide with anger that almost matched Shawn's.

"You won, Lassie! You got the girl! I would have thought that beating me was cause for celebration. Instead you're sitting at this bar acting all pathetic when I would kill to have Juliet feel about me the way she does about you." Shawn took a mouthful of his drink, audibly crunching the ice as an outlet for his frustration before slamming the glass on the table.

Lassiter let out a defeated chuckle before replying harshly. "The only thing that I've won is the satisfaction of knowing that you didn't see this coming."

Shawn had been used to Lassiter's quips about him not being psychic. But that night was different. His temper flared and in a brief flash he lost control. There was nothing to stop the moment of blind fury that brought his fist hard into Lassiter's cheek. He watched as the head detective stumbled off his stool by the blunt force.

The anger was slowly giving way to panic as Shawn realised he'd officially assaulted a police officer. No matter how good punching Lassiter felt for a few seconds, it was nothing worth going to lock-up for. He glanced around for an escape route, but figured there was no use running anyway.

Slowly getting to his feet, simultaneously nursing his cheek, Lassiter stared at Shawn with shocked eyes. He shook his head in disbelief. "It's astonishing…how you assault a police officer…yet you're always viewed as the better man."

Shawn watched on, a little confused. There was no tell-tale signs that Lassiter was reaching for hand-cuffs. Nor did he feel the need to protect himself from an oncoming swing. There was no anger in the air, only the sense of defeat. The one thing that was obvious was that the head detective was broken.

"I could arrest you right now and everyone would blame me for screwing up."

The older man being in such a state set off something in Shawn. While their relationship was complex to say the least, the pseudo-psychic always hated to see Lassiter upset. He'd always end up feeling a little guilty and usually took it upon himself to make things better.

"She loves you, Lassie. What about that don't you get?" Shawn threw his arms up in frustration, noticing that a security guard was coming his way.

"Maybe you're right." Lassiter began walking towards the restrooms. "But I'm still not good enough for her."

As the security guard grabbed his arm, leading him outside, Shawn sighed at the new development. The night had turned into one of the worst he could imagine and despite the fact it was hardly his fault, Shawn felt a need to please and fix it.

"No, dude. This time they're on their own."

The security guard stared at Shawn, perplexed. "What the heck?"

Once outside, the pseudo-psychic shook his head and shoved his hands in his pockets. "Never mind, have a good evening."