Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. No copyright infringement of publicly recognizable characters, products or services is intended.

A/N: This is based in Season 6 just after "Heeeeere's Lassie." As such, Shules references are as the relationship was at the time. There's also an ode to "100 Clues" which is Season 7 but references here won't break with canon.

Chapter 6: Coming Around

They turned up nothing, absolutely nothing. Her initial hunch about the car was spot on though; there was no way that the suspect made it in undetected. At least now she could be sure of that.

But that was all that she could be sure of.

With the bad lighting, she hadn't captured much more than the suspect's height and build—Medium for both—And she wasn't sure if that was accurate or a trick of the shadows. If they could find anyone in the general area, in next hour, that even came close to that description then they might have something. But with each passing minute, it seemed as if the chances of that kind of luck were about as likely as her being able to salvage anything that looked like a good night's sleep.

Juliet crossed from the parking lot, now illuminated with blue and red patrol lights, and headed back towards the curb where she'd parked Beatriz's car. She found Carlton leaning on the hood with one hand tucked in his pocket and the other numbly shaking a bottle of orange juice. He was staring across the street unblinking, his eyes combing the scene so dutifully that it appeared as if he were in a trance.

Juliet waved a hand in front of him.

Carlton tore his eyes away from the scene with an agitated blink.

"So what'd they say," she said, looking him over.

Carlton shrugged, halfheartedly. "They gave me some orange juice ..."

"Yes, I can see that but what did they say?"

He turned towards her, looking as if he were trying to make sense of her question. "Um… They said eat something, get some rest and here's an orange juice."

Juliet rolled her eyes. "Carlton."

"What, O'Hara?" He was suddenly irate. "I'm fine. Okay? They think so too."

"They don't have to work with you," she mumbled.

He made a face then stared off at the crime scene again. "Did you check the car?"

"Yes we checked the car."

"Did you check the building?"

"Of course we checked the—You know what? Drink your juice." She held a menacing look until a small blue car pulled her attention away.

Carlton watched it wearily then tossed his hands in the air. "Geez, O'Hara. You've been on this case for two seconds and you're already asking your boyfriend for help?"

"I didn't call them!"

"Then how'd they find us?"

"How do they ever?"

The two crossed the street towards them. Gus waived with a half-smile, Shawn pulled a finger to his head.

"Gus, the spirits are telling me that we've missed snack time but if we ask nicely—Like saying pretty, pretty please—Lassie will share his kiddie juice with us."

Carlton's face turned a shade of red. He looked as if he were thinking of forcing both the juice and the bottle down Shawn's throat.

Juliet stepped between them. "Shawn, what are you guys doing here?"

"Following orders, Jules. The chief asked us to help you guys with your cases."

Gus' smile faded as he leaned towards Shawn. "She pretty much only asked us to help out on just one case and you closed that one this afternoon."

Shawn swatted him away. "Gus, not now. I can't do this with you now." He pulled a finger back to his head. "Jules, you should really let us in on this. I'm sensing that the victim knew her attacker and that he's still somewhere in the area."

Lassiter sneered. "Well, I'm sensing that it's partly cloudy with a ninety percent chance of B.S."

Juliet spun towards him. "Drink your juice, Carlton!"

She glared at him until he reluctantly broke the seal of his juice and took a slow slip. His eyes brightened after the first swallow and he hummed pleasantly, turning the bottle in front of him as if it were the most delicious thing that he had ever tasted.

"Thank you ..." She squared off again with Shawn and Gus. "Guys, earlier tonight, Lassiter said he had a hunch that another body would turn up. He drove us around a bit then practically singled out this building before the victim was attacked. We literally arrived as it was happening. Another minute and this would have ended much, much differently."

Gus squinted an eye. "So... You're saying that you saw Lassiter and the killer in the same place at the same time?"

Juliet let a growl escape. "Gus, are we seriously back on that?"

"We were never off of it."

Juliet channeled her calm through two clasped hands. "Fine then. Yes, I saw the assailant and Lassiter at the same time. Are you happy?"

Gus frowned. "No because that statement could also be true if Lassiter was the killer."

"He's not! And she's not dead."

"What'd the guy look like," Shawn cut in.

"I didn't really get a good look at him," Juliet admitted. "I lost track of him just before Carlton called for backup."

Shawn and Gus glanced at each other and then over to the lanky detective, still blissfully nursing his orange juice and seemingly unaware that he was being talked about.

Lassiter paused when he saw that all eyes were on him. He stared back awkwardly; his eyes tracking from one person to the next, his cheeks bloated with juice. He swallowed uneasily then frowned. "What?"

"Look guys," Juliet continued, "We don't have time to lose… Shawn, if you have a sense of the suspect and could help us find him, that would be a huge help. I don't know how he got the slip on me but he couldn't have gotten far."

"Where'd you last see him?"

Juliet pointed past the police tape. "Heading off into the parking lot but then he just disappeared."

Gus followed their gaze. "Maybe he scaled the wall."

"Dude." Shawn slapped Gus on the arm.

Gus winced. "Shawn, if you hit me again I will slap you so hard your mother will feel it."

"Oh, are you bringing that back now?"

"Maybe!"

"Man, you can't be just making stuff up. That wall is like ten feet tall!"

"So."

"So, what'd the guy do to get over it? Say, Go, Go Gadget legs?"

"No," Gus protested, "They do that in parkour."

"The guy is from Darfur?"

Gus looked perplexed. "What?"

Shawn shrugged. "What?"

"Darfur? Really?"

"Isn't that what you said?"

"The word is Par-Core, Shawn. It's the practice of natural movement through your environment. There's a technique called a wall run, which employs basic physics to propel practitioners up and over walls—Some even higher than that one. It's probably how the killer got away from Juliet so easily."

Juliet folded her arms tightly across her chest. "So, he jumps the wall and hoofs it a few blocks off into a neighborhood …" Her eyes grew wide. An almost sickening wave of dread turned her stomach. "We have to expand our search."

"No," Carlton mumbled. His gaze was again lost on something ahead of him. He set his juice on the roof of the car and pushed past them, walking into the middle of the street and scanning the area as if he had lost something.

Shawn watched him curiously. "What're you doing?"

"He's here," Carlton said softly, still scanning the dark street around them.

Shawn walked within inches of him. "What do you mean by here? Like here, here?"

"Like tall and lanky, standing in the middle of the street, here," Gus added.

Carlton had no response, he only continue to stare into the shadows.

Juliet eyed him cautiously. "Carlton, how do you know that the suspect is here?"

Carlton continued hunting a moment longer then fixed his attention on something out in the distance. His jaw tightened, his shoulders tensed. "Because I see him," he said.

Juliet's eyes snapped in the direction of Carlton's gaze. Off in the distance, a lone figure stood next to what looked like an oversized moving van. She recognized it immediately. It was the same dingy, white truck that sat across from her while she waited for Carlton earlier.

A man outside of the truck was standing very plainly just a few feet from it. It was too dark to make out any of his features; too dark to tell if he was watching suspiciously or merely out of curiosity. In either case, he gave them no time to find out. As if reading their expressions, the driver turned casually, walked towards the large truck and jumped in.

The roar of the engine startled everyone around and seemed to ignite a fire in Lassiter. He unholstered his weapon, barked out a warning and started in a full sprint towards the vehicle.

Juliet started after him, stopping briefly to make sure that Shawn and Gus remained by the car. When they looked as if they agreed, she took off again.

The truck engine revved as she drew nearer. It almost seemed to snicker as the driver shifted gears and pulled the large vehicle away.

As it left, she strained to make out whatever she could—A license plate, decals, mudflaps—Anything. It was nothing more than a blur of reflective lights by the time that she was close enough to hear Carlton recite the highway information and then look as if he were hiding a grimace.

When he caught her watching him, he tossed her the handset then walked slowly to the curb.

"You better not pass out again," she said, walking over to join him.

"That's why I'm sitting down," Carlton mumbled. He half-sat, half-dropped onto the curb then leaned an elbow onto his knee and rested his head into his hand.

Juliet took a seat beside him and stared into the handset; already used twice tonight, thanks to his hunches. She set it beside them and looked him over.

"You okay?"

Carlton nodded wearily, rubbing his fingers over his eyes.

"So, was that our guy?"

"God, I hope so."

"Who is he?"

Carlton stole a glance at her then shrugged, shaking his head slowly. "Your guess is as good as mine, O'Hara …"

Juliet let her eyes slip back to the crime scene. She replayed what she saw of the attack in her head and did her very best to spot the suspect again.

Was it the same height and build? Did he really scale the wall and then run back over to his truck? She'd been facing that vehicle the entire time when she first arrived. How'd the assailant get around her and over to the victim undetected?

"What about the woman," she said, letting her internal musings drift out loud. "What do you know about her?"

"I know she can thank me for her fractured larynx," Carlton mumbled.

"Hey!" Juliet snapped a stern finger towards him. She watched his eyes wade from guilt to surprise. "Stop it! This is not your fault... Yes, there was a victim just like you said. Some innocent woman was attacked but she's not dead, Carlton, and that's because of you... And even if something more tragic had happened to her, it's still not your fault... Just because you can see something coming doesn't mean you can stop it from happening."

Carlton seemed confused by that statement. A dark eyebrow rose. He looked as if he would speak but Juliet cut him off.

She wrapped her hand into a fist, held it high enough for him to see and then jabbed him in the arm with it. She smiled when he recoiled playfully.

"I think I just made my point."

Carlton smiled a half-grin. A genuine flicker of contentment brought a spark to his eyes.

That seemed strange somehow. It had been weeks since she had seen anything but his anxious, irritable and groggy expressions. They had been the norm for so long. Now, in just one moment, that was all gone. He was back to the way things were—No horrible dreams, no haunting words, no stupid side effects from Prospect Gardens. But just like all moments, it quickly passed. The smile faded, his sullen look returned and he stared unblinking at the blue and red lights as they danced along the ropes of yellow tape across the street.

Juliet wrapped an anxious hand around the waiting radio and hoped desperately that the news of their suspect would come through. It was time to find this guy and end this thing. Once he was gone, she'd finally have her partner back and right now, there wasn't anything that she wanted more than that… Except maybe a little sleep.

Carlton broke into her thoughts with a loud sigh. "I wish I'd finished that stupid orange juice," he said. He paused thoughtfully then reached a hand into his pocket, retrieved his phone and punched several numbers.

There was barely any ringing on the other end. Whoever he had dialed picked up immediately.

"Hey," Carlton said, his voice rough. "... Yes, you can come just bring the juice… That's not a metaphor, you idiot! The juice I left in the car… Fine, I left it on the car—Whatever. Just bring it!" He hung up the phone and wrestled it back into his pocket. "Idiot."

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