A/N: so thanks everyone for the review. This chapter is longer then most, but I really loved writing it! oh, and in the end it might seem like Shawn is slightly out of character... but i needed that to happen for the story's sake.
Carlton watched as Delilah and Shawn talked and laughed across the room. He couldn't take his eyes off them. This was bad. He could not keep it professional around her. He just clamed up when she walked into the office and now he couldn't even keep his mind focused enough on his work to write his name.
Shawn came over, grinning like a complete idiot who just met his idol. "Lassie, I was really looking forward to working with you, but you know, hoes before bros."
"It's the other way around," Carlton muttered angrily.
"Oh Lassie, I didn't realize that you really wanted to work with me so bad," Shawn stated, smiling. "Don't worry, next case I'll be glued to your hip."
"No, don't do that," Carlton told him sternly. "I just want you to know to be careful, when you work with her. She'll stab you in the back."
"Oh really?" Shawn questioned skeptically. "How do you know?"
"She cost me my job," Carlton told him bitterly.
Shawn raised an eyebrow and made a circle with his fingers. "Aren't you doing your job right now?"
"Because of her I can't move up in my career. I'm going to be stuck in this position for the rest of my life," Carlton explained. "I was supposed to be the next Chief, but because of her they passed me up."
Shawn grabbed a chair and pulled it up to Carlton's desk. "This sounds juicy. Details, now Carly-town."
"Three and a half years ago, I followed a lead of a double homicide to this shack right out of town. I get there without backup, and since I'm afraid they're going to run, I go into the shack before the backup arrives," Carlton began.
"Oh, even I know that's stupid," Shawn commented.
"Anyways, I go in, and hear arguing upstairs, so I grab my gun and follow the voices. I get up there, but the last stair squeaks. I hear one set of footsteps running away and another coming towards me. Next thing I know, I see Gypsy coming towards me, her gun also out. We're just staring at each other, wondering who's going to pull the trigger first.
"Finally she asks if this could just be a draw, we both back away and let each other go. I tell her no, and she threatens that her partner is coming around back. I tell her my partner's around back, probably apprehending her partner. She begins talking to me about how the probably couldn't happen since her partner is a big strong guy. All the while she slowly walking towards me, and I'm too distracted by her lip-words to notice. Suddenly she's close enough to grab my wrist and force me to drop my gun. Then she says, 'If your partner's really with you, I hope she can catch you.'"
"What the hell does that mean?" Shawn asked, completely intrigued by the tale, even though he was unaware Carlton was leaving out major details of what actually happened.
"It means, I'm gonna headbutt you and make you fall. That's what it means," Carlton snapped. "She knocked me unconscious, and I feel down the stairs. I woke up a day and a half later handcuffed to some pole on the other side of town. When my backup finally arrived at the house we were already gone. The only evidence that I was there was my gun they found on the top of the steps.
"When I was rescued they kept asking me questions about what happened. I couldn't answer any of them because I was unconscious, but my boss kept thinking I was lying or covering for her. He told me that if I didn't cooperate, he would charge me with insubordination. I couldn't answer his questions, so I got charged. You can't be Police Chief with an insubordination charge, even if you get cleared of it."
"Aw, Lassie, I finally get why you're so upset all the time. This explains so much of your psyche. This is such amazing insight," Shawn said, smiling.
"You know what, fine," Carlton snapped, doubting Shawn's sincerity. "I tried to be nice and warn you about her, but if all you're going to do is be a child and make fun, you deserve whatever will happen to you."
"Aw, Lassie come on. I'm sorry, okay? Please tell me some more stories about Gypsy. If I'm going to work with her I should know more about her. Tell me what she likes, doesn't like, turns on, turns off. What, chocolate covered strawberries? Long walks on the beach?"
Carlton got up and stormed away at this point. Shawn called after him, "Come on, help a guy out. Remember bros before hoes!"
Juliet quickly scanned the outdoor patio and found her lunch date. It had been a month since they decided to make these luncheons a regular thing. Juliet was really staring to enjoy herself during them. They laughed, they joked, Juliet shared stories about her family and times in Miami, and Delilah didn't talk about her past at all, but she sure was a good listener.
"Hey, what did the chief want you for?" Juliet asked, sitting down across from Delilah.
"Oh she wants me to work with the psychic on stalking some rich dude," Delilah informed her.
Juliet gulped her drink. "You're working with Shawn?"
"Oh, so he's the boy," Delilah teased, figuring out Juliet's crush.
"No," Juliet denied poorly. "Anyways, I don't want to talk about it. How are things with you and Carlton?"
Delilah sighed and hung her head. Juliet felt extremely uncomfortable and squirmed in her seat. Delilah looked up at her and said, "I've given up a lot of things in my life. I gave up my family, my friends, my future, the life I knew all for my job. I was supposed to go to college and become a CEO of something, but I gave it up to be a professional criminal. I haven't seen my mother in three years. But I was fine with everything. I loved my job. I got to travel to places and experience things most people can't even dream about. Then I met Carlton, and I gave up everything, again. My whole new life was gone. I gave up my friend, my career, which I was damn good at, everything I knew, just gone for some guy."
"Are you saying you regret it?" Juliet asked.
Delilah shook her head. "No, I just always thought when I got out of the game I'd go back to my old life, but I didn't. I went to Carlton's life. I gave up so much for him and he gave up so little. And now, I gave up him. For some reason I don't know. No, I do know why. He was getting attached, and sloppy. So I gave him up for him."
"That doesn't really make sense," Juliet told her.
"All right, how about this? I gave him up because he never fought for me. Never," Delilah replied. "A few months after I kidnapped him he told me it was over, for real. And I thought I'd be okay with it, but after one week I missed him too much. So, three weeks later, I'm out of the game, turning myself in so I could be with him. But, I find out he's screwing his partner."
"Oh god, he didn't… wait, you kidnapped him?" Juliet asked, her empathy turning to shock.
"Yeah, ask Karen about it," Delilah stated, looking down at her hands. "But the thing is he didn't fight for me, not even after I turned myself in. Sometimes I think the only reason we got back together is because his partner got transferred."
Delilah had not looked up when she told Juliet that. Juliet got up and walked over to Delilah. She wrapped her arms the sad creature and just held on.
Delilah flinched at the contact, but the next moment she was grabbing the arm, hugging her back. Delilah held on for a little bit, and then let her go with a "Thank you."
Juliet sat back down, and Delilah sent her a smile. Juliet returned the smile and asked, "Anything I can do for you?"
"Yeah, get a drink with me tonight," Delilah requested. "We'll replace the old memories with new, drunken ones."
"Um… yeah, why not? It should be fun."
"Great, now I better get going, I'm supposed meet up with Shawn…" Delilah paused, an idea forming. "Let's invite Shawn and his little scaredy cat partner to drinks. It will be as friends, but then I'll distract the other one and you and Shawn can do whatever."
Juliet grinned at the idea. "Sure, if it means that much to you."
"All right then, I'll see you tonight."
Delilah glanced over at Shawn, and he looked bored out of his mind. She felt for him, normally she would have started a conversation, but today she was too busy not to let her emotions show to be chatty. She turned her attention back to the office across the street. Looking through a high power camera, she observed Charles Barlwin in his office. He appeared not to be in any harm.
They were set up in an empty office room in the build across from Barlwin, a couple floors up then his office, Delilah insisted on it. She said it gave them the advantage to see not only into his office, but other's too. Shawn objected, saying he was best when he had more hands on readings, but since Delilah was the professional she won. That and she also informed him she knew three different ways to kill someone using just one hand.
Looking back at Shawn she asked, "Are you getting any negative vibes?"
"No, too far away," he told her, sighing. He paused and then asked, "Were you being serious? Do you believe in psychics?"
"Yeah, I mean look at my name," Delilah told him.
"Gypsy?"
"The gypsies deal with spirits, fortune telling and tarot cards, psychics aren't to far fetch if you believe that cards can tell your future."
"I guess not," Shawn mused. "Can you tell me more about tarot cards?"
"What do you want to know?"
"Is there one card for each person? Like do you have a personal card?" Shawn questioned.
Delilah smiled, this was a topic she enjoyed talking about. "There are cards that can best describe you, or what's going on with you. Take Juliet for example, her card would be The Sun. It means something along the lines of joy, good health, academic success, and abundance of energy."
Shawn grinned thinking about it. "Yeah, that fits Jules. What other cards are there? What would be mine?"
"You… I have to think about you. Are you The Hierophant? No, I don't see ritual and routines your thing. The Hermit? Definitely not. The Chariot? Nope. The Hanged Man? Maybe, I could see you willing to do anything now to get something you want. Let me ask you this, how good are you with changes? Can you adapt to it?"
"I'm pretty good with change, I moved around a lot, been all over the country."
"So you've had a lot of new beginnings, huh?"
"I guess you could say that," Shawn agreed.
"See now I'm torn, you could be The Hanged Man, but now I also see you as The Fool."
"That sounds like something Lassiter would call me," Shawn joked.
"The Fool doesn't mean anything bad unless it's flipped upside down. Right side up it means good things like, beginnings, energy, happiness, optimism, spontaneity and exceeding the status quo. I think it fits you," Delilah told him seriously.
"It was just a joke," Shawn replied, wondering why she turned so serious. "Hey, what do you think old Lassie would be? Hermit, right?"
Delilah turned away from Shawn as the image of her lying in Carlton's arms, wearing one of his shirts, holding a deck of tarot cards flashed through her mind. She did not want to remember that night, no matter how wonderful it felt having his arms around her. That night she told Carlton what his card was, along with what her card was, something she had never told anyone. It was the closest she came to telling him she loved him. The words were on her lips, but instead she kissed him and that was that.
Her back still to Shawn, she answered, "Hermit's a good guess."
"Yeah, he never goes out," Shawn stated, trying to keep the conversation alive.
"Speaking of going out, how's about you and your easily frightened partner, come out for drinks with me and a friend?" she asked.
"Sure, I'd love to get a couple drinks in you and see if I could get you to dance on a table," he told her with his best grin.
She sent him her best grin back; it was a clash of pearly whites, until there was a thud outside in the hallway. Both eyes flew to the door. "Should we check that out?"
Delilah shook her head. "No, you go over to the window and check on our assignment, I'll go scope it out."
Shawn obliged and went over to the window, but watched Delilah out of the corner of his eye. Silently she walked over to the door, and let the door slowly open. Peering out into the corridor, she made her way carefully out, taking in all of her surroundings. It was then it fully hit Shawn who she was, an ex-professional murder. The gracefulness of her body, the precision of her movements, all signs that she had done this before and that she was good. He suddenly became afraid.
She came back a couple minutes later, and she was frowning. Shawn looked back at Barlwin and asked, "Anything?"
"No, I checked the hall and all the open doors," she answered. "There was this one locked door though, the carpet in front of it made it look like the door had been open recently. Do you have anything that I could pick a lock with? I want to investigate the room."
Shawn shook his head and went back to the window. Without meeting her eyes, he squeaked out a, "How many people did you kill?"
"You really want to know?" He nodded, stealing a quick glance at her. "Over a hundred, close to one fifty."
Shawn fumbled the camera, but managed to catch it. Delilah smiled to herself at the reaction. "You still wanna go out, or you afraid you're gonna be a hundred and fifty?"
"No, no, who's afraid? I'm not," Shawn told her quickly, but his gaze went quickly back to the window.
"I'm going to check-" She stopped short, and Shawn looked up enough to see her fall to the ground. He dropped the camera when he saw the man standing over her. Extremely tall, he loomed over Delilah like a boulder teetering on the edge of a cliff. Shawn was the size of one of the ominous looking man's arm.
Shawn backed further into the corner, trying to get as far away as he could from this dangerous man, who seemed not to notice him yet. No, this man was far too interested in playing with his already captured prey. He picked up an arm and watched as it fell limply to the ground. He let out a satisfied grunt, and then turned his attention to Shawn.
"Who are you?" the man questioned, reaching behind his back for what Shawn could only assume was a gun or knife.
"Would you believe bird watcher?" Shawn squeaked weakly.
The man grinned sickly and grabbed Shawn's neck, pinned him against the wall. Shawn was only mildly surprised that this man was able to does this all with one hand. "You know what my favorite way of killing people is?"
"Not killing people?" Shawn hoped.
"See I do enjoy killing with my bare hands, it feels so primitive and I feel accomplished," the man informed him. "But it's such a stress on me, and some times it takes so long depending on how I'm killing them. No, my favorite way is with a knife."
Shawn now saw the gleam of a four-inch knife in his face. He started to shake, he was going to die.
"The best thing about killing with a knife is when you stab someone in the ribcage. You can make their bones crunch by just moving the knife up or down. And they just gasp, that's all they can do. Gasp for their escaping breath. I'm wondering if you're a gasper?"
"Funny, isn't that what your cellmate asked you Lloyd during your first night?" Delilah asked, getting the large man's attention.
With his focus off of Shawn and knife, Delilah kicked his wrist with knife, sending it flying across the room. Lloyd growled and tossed Shawn away like a used Kleenex.
He came towards her, but she was ready this time, she was not going to be suckered punched again. Hell, she knew she could not win in a fight, but she knew she could out run him. First though, she needed to give Shawn one hell of a head start.
"Come Lloyd, let's see if prison made you soft," Delilah challenged.
"You should know I don't go soft," Lloyd told her, grinning at her. "In fact, last time we did this didn't you end up with your pants off, screaming and kick?"
Delilah kicked him in the stomach, and followed it up wit a one two punch. It hardly did anything to him. He backed up a few steps, but he was still grinning.
"Shawn, get the knife and run! Keep running, no matter what!" she ordered.
Her yelling snapped Shawn out of his shock. He grabbed the knife laying a few feet away from him and sprang up, sprinting towards the door. He was halfway down the hallway when a painful scream, that he just knew Lloyd would never produce. Shawn stopped, almost tempted to go back and help her, but a loud thud got his feet running the other way.