So me and my dad have been watching the first two seasons of Psych on Hulu, and I have to admit, I love Lassiter. LOL. Seeing him hold the Chief's baby, and even when he said 'baby' to the crazy judge in American Duos... *sigh* Don't get me wrong. Shules is the best, and Shawn is the hottest. But I'm developing a soft spot for that hardass detective...which may not be so good for him... *evil laughter*
Disclaimer: Uhm... not mine. But I do have a... THREE HOLE PUNCHER!
PsychPsychPsychPsychPsych
"Thank you so much for this, Gus," Juliet said softly as Gus prepared the guest bedroom.
He smiled at her. "It's fine, Juliet. Lassiter and Shawn can get a little..." He searched for the right word.
"Crazy?" Juliet offered, clutching the pillow Gus had given her to her chest.
He laughed. "Good word." Finally he stepped back from the bed, nodding approvingly. "Okay. Get some sleep. The bathroom is across the hall, and if you need anything at all, just yell."
"I will, Gus. Thanks."
He patted her arm, then left her alone in the room.
As soon as she was alone, Juliet sighed and crawled into the bed. The realization that everything she owned was gone hadn't even completely sunk in yet. She buried her face in the pillow and wiggled between the sheets.
Gus stood outside of the door for a few minutes, concerned. He had been unable to get anything out of Juliet, but years of being best friends with Shawn had taught him a few things about observation and human nature.
He and Juliet weren't very close, and yet she had come to him for help. He reasoned that she had done that because Shawn and her partner weren't available to her. She would have gone to Shawn first, then Lassiter. Maybe something had happened. Maybe she was fighting with both of them. But if she was, what was it about? What was so huge that she felt she couldn't go to Shawn or Lassiter, forcing her to go to him?
He looked at the door again, tempted to go in and talk to her. But something stopped him. So he went into his living room and paced around, worried.
Twenty minutes later, the front door opened. Gus looked up from his seat on the couch.
Shawn came into the apartment, nodding at his best friend. "Hey. We have a problem."
Gus turned the TV off. "What?"
"Juliet's apartment was destroyed earlier. Lassie and I got into a fight, and she disappeared. She's not answering her phone, and we can't find her."
Immediately Gus dropped his eyes to the floor. He had never been able to lie to his best friend. Even when they were kids, Shawn could see right through him.
Shawn came closer, tipping his head slightly to the side. "Gus? Do you know where she is?"
"Of course I don't!" Gus rubbed the back of his neck.
"Yeah, you do! Gus, why didn't you call me? Where is she?"
"I don't know, Shawn."
Shawn heard a noise in the back of the apartment, and his eyebrows arched. "She's here, isn't she?" He headed toward the hallway.
Gus shot to his feet and rushed in front of his best friend. "Shawn, don't."
Shawn stepped backward. "Gus, what is your problem? I need to make sure she's okay." He shoved a finger into Gus' chest. "I can't believe you lied to me."
"She trusts me, Shawn! She came here and asked if she could stay, so she could get away from..." He trailed off at the look on Shawn's face.
"Me." Shawn rubbed his hand over his face. "She came to get away from me."
Gus reached out and rested his hand on Shawn's shoulder. "Shawn, don't beat yourself up."
"She came here because she felt like she couldn't trust me. I made her not want to trust me." He began to pace unhappily.
"Shawn..."
Before Gus could continue, a shrill scream broke the tension. Both men spun toward the hall.
Shawn was faster, and he took off down the hall. Reaching the guestroom, he shoved the door open. "Juliet?"
She was sitting up in the bed, sheets tangled around her waist. Her hair fell in her face, and beads of sweat rolled down her forehead. She screamed again.
The sound froze Shawn for a moment, but he managed to shake it off. He hurried to the bed and sat down beside her. "Juliet..."
She didn't seem to hear him. Her body shuddered as her fingers clutched at the sheets.
With a gentle touch, he reached out and drew her against his chest. "Shh, Jules..."
She resisted for a moment, then finally went limp against him.
He wrapped an arm firmly around her and kissed her head. How could he have ever done anything to make her not want to trust him? Anger directed toward himself bubbled up. No wonder she had gone to Gus after all of that. Everything she held dear was gone, and he and Lassiter were fighting over her as though she were a prize to be won. What the hell was wrong with him?
After a while, Juliet finally spoke. "Shawn..."
He nodded. "Right here, Jules."
She sniffled, shaking slightly. "What am I going to do...?"
His hand gently moved over her hair. "We'll get your place cleaned up, and replace your stuff. But you can't go back there until we catch this psycho, Jules. You won't be safe there."
As a cop, she knew he was right. Whoever did this could come back, and next time, she might not be so lucky.
"You could stay here, or you could go to a hotel..." He held her tighter. "Or you could come with me. I just don't want you to be alone, Juliet."
She almost smiled. He was truly worried about her. "Shawn..."
He shook his head. "Please, Jules. This guy... He's dangerous."
Sighing, she let him pull her closer to his chest. "Fine."
"I'll stay away from my apartment. I'll get a hotel room." That way, if an attempt was made, she wouldn't be near someone she cared about. They wouldn't be hurt in the crossfire.
Relieved, he nodded. "Thank you, Jules."
They lapsed into silence, but didn't break the embrace. It was the longest they had ever hugged like this, and both were reluctant to end it, because they didn't know when it would happen again.
Or even if it ever would.
Outside of the bedroom, Gus was leaned up against the wall and listening to the quiet conversation. He had been worried that seeing Shawn would upset Juliet, but she wasn't yelling at him to leave. So they must have made up. He knew that Shawn hated being at odds with Juliet, so he was relieved that they were talking.
Finally he pushed himself off of the wall and headed back into the living room.
PsychPsychPsychPsychPsych
Lassiter sighed as he unlocked his apartment door. He was worried about O'Hara, and that troubled him. His last partner, he had wound up in bed with. And he had been determined not to let history repeat itself. So when O'Hara had been brought to SBPD, Lassiter had kept her at arm's length.
He refused to let her get close, and he could tell that she didn't like it. But it didn't matter. She would be his partner, and nothing more.
But over the years, she had managed to chip away at his tough outer shell. And now, he considered her one of his closest friends. In a lot of ways, she was like another little sister to him. He wanted to protect her and keep her safe.
And with the arrival of this latest psycho, Lassiter felt his rage grow out of control. How dare someone threaten his partner, his best friend. The first chance he got, he would put a slug in this bastard's brain, without hesitation. And he would smile about it, too.
He kicked his shoes off and pulled off his jacket, then hung it up with care. His plan was to get a few hours of sleep before heading back to the precinct to try and make more progress on this case. O'Hara had called to tell him that she was staying in a hotel for the time being, and he felt a mix of relief and some unhappiness. He would have felt better if she was staying with him. At least that way, he would be completely confident that she was safe.
At least she hadn't gone to stay with Spencer. While he was more tolerant than he had been when they first met, there was no way in hell he trusted Spencer to protect his partner. He was too much of a goofball, too flaky. He wouldn't trust Spencer with a potato gun, let alone the life of his partner.
He went into the kitchen and poured a shot of whiskey. After downing it, he went to the living room and sat down heavily.
As he poured another shot, a shadow moved across the wall behind the couch.
Before he realized what was happening, a needle was plunged into his neck. Too startled to make a sound, the shotglass slipped from Lassiter's fingers. Another second later, and darkness enveloped his senses. He fell sideways onto the couch.
The man holding the syringe stood up with a grin. Putting the syringe away, he walked around the couch and knelt down in front of Lassiter's unconscious form.
"So predictable," he rumbled, amused. "Thought you'd be more of a challenge."
Lassiter didn't respond, and the man took a moment to lay a single sheet of paper on the coffee table. Then he went to work with a strangled giggle.
TBC...
A/N: Oh, no! Lassie! *hides under rock* REVIEW!