Chapter 2 – Surprise!

The next morning, Burton Guster woke up in his apartment to find his best friend Shawn Spencer already inside, eating his bananas, drinking his milk, and dining on his favorite cereal. This had happened five times in the last two weeks, so Gus didn't even bother to protest at this hour. All he wanted to do was listen to whatever Shawn had come here for, stop him from eating all of his food, then get him out of his apartment so that he could get on with his day so Shawn could move on to annoying someone else.

With that in mind, Gus strode out into his own kitchen with a wide, accepting smile on his face, vowing to get Shawn out of there as quickly as possible.

"Gus!" Shawn said upon seeing his best friend. "Good, you're up and smiling!" he clapped his hands together. "Are you all packed and ready to go?"

"Huh?" Gus questioned, the smile vanishing off his face. "Go where?"

Shawn's face dropped a little. "Gus, please don't tell me you've already forgotten about our vacation! I've already got the tickets!" Shawn waved two airplane tickets in his face.

"Hold on a minute, we're going to Miami, today?"

"Yes! Our flight leaves in three hours! Are you ready for some fun?"

Gus' face was twisted between shock, disbelief, and concern. "What—" He tried to say. "How did you— Why in the name of—" Gus took a moment to compose himself, trying to bring himself to accept this surprise vacation, which ironically was exactly what he wanted. "Alright, give me a few minutes to throw some things in a suit case."

"Awesome! Are you gonna bring it like the Jackal?"

"Yes, Shawn. I'm going to bring it like the Jackal, now will you let me pack?"

Junior Detective Juliet O'Hara normally would say that she looked very pretty. But now, she looked exactly like her mood, horrible. Her hair was tousled, there were dark circles under her eyes from lack of sleep and her eyes were red and puffy from crying all night. Now she was lying dejectedly on her bed, carelessly sprawled out among her sheets and burying her face into a pillow so she could scarcely hear her own sobbing.

Of course, she had always considered the possibility of being forced to go back to Miami on police work, but she thought that it would come later, when she was more experienced, and after she had taken enough time to get over the emotional scar received back there. But here she was, a little over a year since she had left and the higher powers were dragging her back. Granted, she'd be kicking and screaming the entire way, but Juliet would never disobey a direct order from the Chief of Police, which was exactly what she had gotten.

Maybe she was being forced back because she had run away from her problem instead of facing it. She had used running as a defense mechanism after her heart had been snapped into pieces at her own behest. She had just needed to get away, and she had figured that it would be a good thing for her. But first she had gotten stuck with what she thought at the time was 'the partner from hell,' more commonly known as the gun-happy, emotionally oblivious Carlton Lassiter, who had appeared at first to hate her completely. But at least it hadn't been him. Juliet had almost resigned herself to forever working underneath Lassiter's near Communist dictatorship, but a fateful encounter in a particular diner changed all of that for her.

She hadn't known what to think of that man in the diner that day, only that he had managed to make her laugh on a very bad morning she'd been having. And then, he'd figured out that she was a cop, which had rattled her nerves more than she would ever admit to anyone who didn't have a steel trap of a head for secret keeping. But after a minute, she was gone, and she had put the funny diner guy out of her mind to concentrate on the new case she had. And then he had shown up at the Spelling Bee, boasting the truth about his position as Santa Barbara's leading psychic detective and making her partner seethe with barely contained, potentially explosive hate.

Since then, she'd gotten used to him, and had even taken comfort in his shameless flirtation. Shawn always knew what to say to her, always managed to make her feel better when she was down. And whether or not she knew it, Juliet's heart fluttered every time Shawn showed up unexpectedly to brighten her day. And she would never admit it, least of all to herself, but she liked it.

Last night, after agonizing over the prospects of having to go back and face her past, Juliet had pled to Chief Vick to get out of having to go to Miami. But the chief had insisted that she and Lassiter were the ones that had to go. In the moment of weakness that followed, Juliet remembered a line of Shawn's that he had tossed at her once; "If you want to spend time with me, you don't need to trump up some case. You just pick up the phone, give me a call, and say, 'Shawn, I'm here, I've got pudding pops.' She had been two numbers away from finishing his number when she stopped herself. If she had called him last night, she would have been using him as a crutch to lean on for her own personal benefit. Granted, Shawn likely would not have minded, but she would have felt terrible about the whole thing, and it would have put a strain on their relationship, at least on her end.

But now, this time, she wouldn't have him around to make her feel better, like he had been that time she screwed up during a prisoner transportation. No, he'd be here, where she wanted to be, wisecracking jokes and making obscure movie references that now only Gus would understand.

And she'd be stuck with a giddy Carlton Lassiter in the middle of Miami, the one city she never wanted to go back to ever again.

Maybe she'd just have him drown her in the everglades and put her out of her own misery.

Carlton Lassiter, investigative log, Day 0

I'm thinking of writing down all of my thoughts from this case in a notebook, the way Spencer has his friend do so he can remember everything, that way I can remember everything about a case and prove that I'm a better detective than Spencer. Oh wait, but Spencer always has his partner go and write things down, which means that I should make O'Hara take notes down for everything I say, do, or think. I'm pretty sure she won't mind. I mean, that's what partners are for, right? Yeah, she'll be fine, a young detective needs to learn skills like copious and meticulous note taking so that one day, she can be great, just like me.

Although not as good as me.

No one's as good as me.

"Alright, what the hell am I doing?" Lassiter asked himself aloud. He was sitting alone in his red sedan in the airport parking lot, waiting for his partner to arrive so they could make their flight.

To say that Lassiter was agitated at the fact that she was fifteen minutes late was a gross understatement. In fact, just for that discrepancy, he was going to make her actually take all of his notes for him on their first day on the case in Miami. And he was revoking her personal time.

"Haha, no shopping for O'Hara, that'll teach her to be late for official police business." Lassiter laughed to himself, imagining his partner pleading for a reprieve from the case, but him saying 'no' in an unwavering voice. Even when she used the puppy eyes that could make Spencer jump off a bridge. No, the puppy-dog eyes weren't going to break him this time, he had a defense mechanism; he had a new pair of Aviator sunglasses that made him look even cooler than his old ones did.

If Lassiter had been paying the slightest bit of attention to his surroundings, he would have noticed a small blue compact car whizz into the parking lot. He would have seen it park, and two infuriatingly familiar faces would have stepped out with suitcases in hand. And more importantly, he would have seen Shawn making faces at him through his car door window as Gus tried to find the correct terminal.

But Carlton Lassiter was not paying attention to his surroundings.

He was back to normal several minutes later, when he caught sight of a light green colored Volkswagen Beetle practically speeding to get to the parking area. "Well, at least she's trying." Lassiter considered things for a moment. "Maybe I'll let her have bathroom breaks." He smiled at his own generosity and got out of his car to greet and mock O'Hara.

He didn't expect the small car to almost run him over.