Lassiter was sitting at his desk finishing his reports on a series of smash and grabs when his desk extension rang. He had always considered himself to be a brave man. But now he was breaking out in a cold sweat every time he answered the phone, expecting to hear someone from the Department of Child Services telling him that they'd found a relative of Charlotte's who was going to take her away.
He steeled his nerve and picked up the receiver. "Lassiter."
"Hey, it's me."
O'Hara. His shoulders unclenched slightly.
"What's up?"
"Gus and I were wondering if you wanted to come by my place for dinner on Saturday."
He could practically hear the smile in her voice and he hoped she wasn't hatching some plot to pair him up with some friend of hers. Ever since she and Guster had started dating she'd been all too interested in his personal life—asking if he was dating, if he was interested in anyone. But the truth was, until he hammered down custody he didn't exactly feel like adding in the rejection of dating.
"I'll see." Noncommittal.
"Is everything okay? You sound...upset."
"I'm not upset," Lassiter said, sounding upset even to himself.
"Really? Cause you sound kind of upset. If there's anything I can do to help—"
He sighed. There was no getting around O'Hara's helpful concern. It was one of the few interrogation techniques he had never developed a defense against. Perhaps because he hadn't encountered it much growing up.
"It's just this foster care crap," he muttered, embarrassed to even be mentioning it. A detective's personal life was not supposed to leak into his work life. But as the stress of dealing with the bureaucracy and the waiting and the uncertainty increased, Lassiter found that his personal life was leaking onto his work like a broken juice bag.
"How's that going?"
"The licensing's done, but I'm waiting on a permanency hearing." Lassiter had been up late each night, pouring over the state Welfare and Institutions Code s 361-366. As he saw it, he had a good shot at having a judge terminate the parental rights of Charlotte's birth parents, the Conways, under the abuse/neglect and failure to provide support clauses in addition to their impending felony conviction. Still, Child Protective Services had five months left in which they had to make a reasonable attempt to place Charlotte with a blood relative. The waiting was killing him.
"I'm sure you'll present a strong case," O'Hara said. Lassiter wished he felt her optimism. Technically, he had no legal standing, although he would have an opportunity to be heard in court. He was sure the prosecutor was already sick of getting his emails. "In the meantime," she continued, "take your mind off it. Come for dinner."
"Fine." Lassiter sighed. "What should I bring?"
"Just yourself," he could hear the enthusiasm in her voice. Something was afoot. "And Charlotte, of course," she added.
Lassiter grunted. He'd have to bring her anyway. Tomorrow was Shawn's night off.
"Celebrate good times, Come on!" Shawn hummed to himself as he rang the doorbell to Juliet's apartment. "Let's celebrate." He may not have Kool & the Gang's stylish jheri curls, their white leather dress shoes, or their kick-step dance moves, but he would make up for that in enthusiasm. And tropical fruit.
Juliet, looking over her shoulder and laughing in response to something Gus had just said, opened the door, turned and smiled at him.
"Shawn! Come in," She pulled the door wide and stepped aside. Shawn noticed the twitching around her mouth as she tried to restrain her smile. That grin she was trying to hold in check could only mean that Gus had told her everything. His Lassiter crush was out of the Vault of Secrets. He'd kind of expected that.
"You didn't tell me this was a fancy dress party." He put the pineapple he'd brought on Juliet's credenza. "I'd have worn my spats."
Juliet looked down. "I'm wearing jeans, Shawn," she said.
"Yeah, but they're..." He tilted his head to one side. "Fancy jeans. And you're...frilly."
"Frilly?" Gus came up behind Juliet and put his arm around her waist. "She's not frilly."
Shawn gestured at Juliet's lace-edged blouse. "She's totally frilly."
"What the hell are you talking about?" A voice from behind Shawn asked.
Shawn turned. Lassiter had just arrived and was standing on the doorstep with an anxious look on his face.
"Lassie!" Shawn exclaimed. "Hey!" He took in the sight of Lassiter, sans suit jacket, with the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up. "Check you, whipping out the manly forearms there, Lassie! You look so good I just want to squeeze the hot right out of you."
Lassiter put Charlotte's car seat on the floor and closing the door behind him. He turned on Shawn with suspicion written large across his brow. "Squeeze the...are you drunk, Spencer?"
Behind him, Juliet was pursing her lips and shaking her head, a sign that Shawn took that his statement might be too much too soon.
"Like a smoothie?" he added, hopeful that his flirtatious metaphor might yet connect. He illustrated by making a squeezing motion with his hands. "Jamba-juice style? No?" When he still saw only a confused and suspicious glare from Lassiter he waved a hand dismissively. "Ah, forget it! The sleeves look nice."
"I had to change her in the car," Lassiter explained, rolling down his sleeves and buttoning his cuffs. He turned his frown on Shawn again. "I thought you had dinner plans," he said.
"I do." Shawn gestured at Juliet and Gus. "Right here. I brought a pineapple. What did you bring?" He dropped to a crouch next to Charlotte and began to maneuver her out of her car seat. "Hi, googly-eyes. Are you Lassie's pineapple? Yes you are, beautiful girl, yes you are."
"Get off the floor, Shawn," Gus said, but he was smiling.
Shawn did, hoisting Charlotte. "Oof. You are gaining weight like nobody's business. Lassie. You are not supposed to food-process donuts."
"I do not give her donuts," Lassiter snapped. He turned with pleading eyes to Gus and O'Hara. "I didn't. Really."
"I'm kidding." Shawn kissed Charlotte on the top of her head and carried her into the kitchen. "They know I'm kidding. I eat the donuts. Seriously, though, Jules, I'm starving."
Seated across from one another at the table in Juliet's dining room, Lassiter was beginning to get the feeling that something was going on as looks passed back and forth between his partner, Gus and Shawn.
"So, Lassiter," Gus said in what he hoped was a casual conversational tone, "did you know that Shawn is an excellent marksman?"
Lassiter turned to look at Shawn, who was staring at him with a lopsided grin.
"It's true," Shawn admitted. "My groupings are very tight." He wiggled his eyebrows and Lassiter thought there was something distinctly suggestive in the way he'd said 'tight.'
"Hey," Juliet chimed in, "why don't the two of you go to the range together some time? You love the range, Carlton."
"The range is too loud for babies," Lassiter said firmly.
"I think they were suggesting that you an I go alone," Shawn said. "Alone together."
Lassiter looked at Shawn with his best Head Detective stare. "You think you can beat me at the range? Is that it, Spencer?"
"Why?" Shawn asked, all wide-eyed and innocent. "You think I can't?"
Lassiter smirked. "I think it's safe to say that there is no situation imaginable in which I couldn't beat you."
"Lassie," Shawn said, peering at him coquettishly from under his lashes, "All you had to do was ask."
Gus began to cough loudly, and Lassiter was almost certain that one of the coughs had actually been a muffled word.
Shawn clapped his hands together. "I have an idea. Let's play a dinner game. Let's play 'I never.' The rules are simple. You name something you've done and anyone at the table who hasn't done it has to take a drink. Obviously, Charlotte can't play because she's just a baby and her life experience is short and her tolerance for alcohol is way too low. Lassie, let's start with you. Might I suggest you start with something simple, like showering with another man?"
"Shawn!" Gus hissed warningly.
"What?" Shawn protested. "There's a water shortage on, Gus. I bet lots of guys have done that."
"Fine." Shawn poked thoughtfully at his salad. "Let's talk entertainment. Did anyone else find it creepy that the guy who played Dexter married the girl who played his sister?"
"You know they're not actually related, right?" Juliet looked searchingly at him. "They just play relatives on the show."
"Yeah," Gus agreed. "Michael C. Hall and Jennifer Carpenter just happen to work together." He smiled at Juliet. "And sometimes work brings people closer together."
Lassiter made a face and shook his head slightly. "I'm with Spencer," he said. "It's definitely creepy."
Shawn beamed. "Thank-you, Lassie." He liked it when Lassiter was with him.
Halfway through the main course, Gus stood up. "Ahem."
Shawn's mouth fell open. "Oh my God, you're engaged."
"Shawn!" Juliet looked at once annoyed and crestfallen.
"Sorry, buddy," Shawn said, looking apologetically at Gus, who was glaring. "But hey, congratulations!"
"Engaged?" Lassiter said blankly. "Engaged in what?"
"Like, diamond ring, wedding planning, balconies and Christmas lights," Shawn explained.
Gus sat back down with a huff. "Shawn, you ruin everything."
"What do balconies and Christmas lights have to do with being engaged?" Juliet asked, frowning.
"I don't know," Shawn said, turning back to Charlotte's pureed bananas. "I just always picture, I don't know, proposals on balconies. With Christmas lights on the railing. And big umbrellas."
"You watch too many movies," Gus muttered. "Do you want to see the ring, or what?"
"I do," said Lassiter, because Juliet was looking increasingly dismayed with the conversation. At this, the frown disappeared and was replaced by a wide, bright smile.
"Be right back!" she sang, and scampered upstairs. She was back less than a minute later, left hand stuck straight out in front of her.
"Wow, buddy." Shawn held up a hand, shielding his eyes. "That thing is massive."
"Isn't it gorgeous?" Juliet did a little hop. The diamond flashed with her movement. "He picked it out all by himself." She put her arm around Gus's waist and kissed him on the cheek.
"So obviously this means I'm going to be best man," Shawn looked to Gus for confirmation. The fact that Gus hadn't discussed the proposal with him beforehand tying his stomach into little knots. Gus's nod loosened them slightly. He turned to Juliet. "Who's the maid of honor? Please say it's not that woman who takes the mug shots. She gives me the creeps. I suspect she's stealing souls for her demon god."
"It's not Heather," Juliet gave Shawn a disapproving look. "And her eyes have been like that since birth, Shawn." She turned to Lassiter. "Actually, I thought that Carlton might want to—"
"Be a maid of honor?" Lassiter grimaced. How soft did people think taking care of a baby was making him?
Juliet shook her head. "No, be my best man. A lot of women are doing it nowadays, and you're my partner, and my friend. I figured it made sense." Lassiter thought about Juliet's attempts to make female friends within the department. He could see the anxiety seeping into her face. "But I suppose I could ask Heather."
"I'll do it," Lassiter said abruptly. "I'll be your best man."
"Great!" Shawn leaned toward him. "I look forward to working with you on an amazing stag and doe party. I have three words for you—don't say no until you hear them—Milli-Vanilli impersonators." Shawn hurried on, over-riding anyone's attempt to object. "They're inexpensive, and they actually sing, although they'll lipsync for an extra twenty."
"No." Lassiter fought back a smile. He would not allow Shawn to fill O'Hara's special day with men in braids lip-syncing to 'Girl You Know it's True.'
"Give it a chance," Shawn complained as Gus and Juliet went into the kitchen for the next dishes. "For an extra fifty they do a striptease."