It had been a little more than a week now, and Melody was still completely overwhelmed by Detective Lassiter whenever he so much as glanced in her direction. She tried to write it off as being intimidated by his status as a detective, but no dice; Melody found herself completely at ease with not only every other officer on the force, but Lassiter's partner as well. Juliet had taken a shine to the secretary immediately and had offered to take her out to lunch that very day, an invitation that Melody had happily accepted. Already, they were acting like old friends. Jules had quickly initiated the new girl into all the station drama.
"Not that it's all that dramatic, I mean, besides the whole crime aspect," the detective was quick to disclaim. "But there are a few... personnel issues that you should probably know about."
Specifically, the staff psychic named Shawn Spencer. Melody leaned forward, eyes gleaming with interest as she gestured with a fry. "He's really psychic? That's amazing!"
Jules grinned ruefully. "Well, as far as we can tell. He and his friend Gus run a psychic detective agency, and we hire them frequently. They're actually responsible for solving a lot of our most important cases."
The psychiatrist in Melody was starting to get the better of her. "Has he ever been examined? What's he like? Is he extraordinary in other ways as well?"
The detective flushed slightly and laughed. "Well, I wouldn't say that. I mean, sure. I guess. He's really funny, and pretty smart when he decides to be. And he's got these eyes..." She glanced up and saw Melody's raised eyebrows. Juliet coughed and looked down. "But no, I don't think he's ever been examined or tested. His mother is a psychiatrist, though, actually our psychiatrist, so I would imagine she's checked him out. And his father is an ex-cop, total stickler for protocol. As far as we can tell, Shawn is strictly legitimate." She took a sip of her iced tea and glanced at her watch. "Oops, we should be heading back to the station. I've got the check this time."
Melody grinned and grabbed her purse. "Next week on me?" She liked this detective, and couldn't resist the opportunity to continue probing her about Psychic Shawn.
Jules grinned back. "Sounds like a plan."
No, it was safe to say that Melody wasn't intimidated by status. It was something about Detective Lassiter that made her lose control of her thoughts, not something about his badge. Unfortunately, it appeared that he was completely unaware of her. The only interactions they had were when Melody had to forward a call to him, or came over to place a message on his desk. On a certain level, the woman was pleased that she was able to maintain that much control. So far, she hadn't made an idiot of herself over a man who was probably too busy to have anything to do with her. But on the other hand, Melody wished she had the backbone to at least say something to him once in a while, other than "Line two for you, Detective Lassiter." What if he thought she didn't like him for some reason? What if he thought she was a hermit, afraid of her own shadow?
Melody glanced over at his desk, only to see Lassiter looking in her direction. She smiled briefly, but he had already turned his gaze back to his computer screen. Sighing, the secretary turned back to the open crossword puzzle on her desk. Four letter word for attachment...
...
"Spencer, get out of my chair!"
The psychic grinned and tossed a paper airplane at the detective. "Come on, Lassie. How can you be so grumpy all the time when your chair is so comfortable? The lumbar support on this thing is just incredible."
Carlton suppressed the urge to use the snarky faux-detective for target practice and braced himself on the top of his desk. "Spencer, I asked you here to help me with a serious matter. It pains me to do this, so will you please just cooperate with me this one time?"
Shawn shrugged and stood. "Alright, sorry buddy. Is this another pro-bono case to help one of your childhood heroes? And why does Gus have to stay out of it?" The man gasped theatrically. "Did Gus murder your childhood hero?"
"Will you cut that out?" Carlton glanced around the station uneasily. "Follow me." He led the young man into the chief's office and closed the door behind them. Shawn's expression turned more serious as Carlton made sure to close all the blinds before turning to face the psychic. "Spencer, I have a problem."
Shawn examined the detective for a moment before responding. "Lassie, is this something illegal? Because I would have thought that you of all people-"
"No, it's not illegal!" This was turning out to be more exasperating that originally anticipated. Carlton ran a hand through his hair. "I asked you to come here because I thought... well, I know you have considerable experience in this area, and I've been out of the game for a while, and I didn't want Guster to know about this because he's not exactly the most knowledgeable... What?"
The grin that had slowly been growing across Shawn's face was now big enough to split his head in two. "Lassie. Lassie, Lassie, Lassie. Is this about a girl?" Carlton's face flushed beet red. "It is! I can't believe it, Carlton Lassiter is having girl problems!"
A growl issued from the back of Carlton's throat unbidden. "Alright, Spencer, I should have known better than to ask you for help-"
"No, no, I want to help you, I really do," Shawn protested through laughter. "It's just, I never would have suspected that you would come to me about something like this." The man calmed himself down and leaned back against the chief's desk. "Alright, so who is she?" The stony look on the detective's face made Shawn change tactics. "OK, you don't have to tell me. What's the problem?"
Good question. Carlton hadn't thought how to phrase exactly just what was bothering him. I don't know how to talk to girls sounded so elementary, although it covered the gist. How do you know if she likes you back? What was this, high school? "How would one go about declaring his feelings for someone if he hasn't exactly... talked to her? Ever?"
"You've never even talked to her? Does she know who you are?" Shawn tilted his head, considering the detective. "You're not stalking her, are you?"
Lassiter didn't even bother to answer that. "Well, I mean, I've introduced myself, and we talk sometimes, but... I don't even know if she's single. Or interested." A short pause. "Maybe I should stake her out..."
"No, Lassie, that is Wrong Move Numero Uno." The psychic pondered for a moment. "Why don't you just ask her out? You could go get coffee. Starbucks is the Switzerland of dating." Carlton turned a little green, and Shawn quickly changed tactics. "Or you could eliminate face time entirely. Send her flowers. Anonymously. See how she reacts, who she suspects?"
Carlton nodded slowly, a slight smile creeping across his features. "Flowers? I can do that."
"But not roses." The detective nodded and pulled out a notepad and pencil. "Roses are too serious. At least, not red roses. Pink, yellow, or white. Something bright, like daisies, or carnations." Shawn thought for a moment. "No, not carnations, those are funeral flowers. Stick to wildflowers and things like that. But nothing dyed fake purples and greens. That's tacky."
"Right, tacky." The pencil and pad retreated back into Lassiter's pocket, and the detective relaxed long enough to unintentionally glance in the direction of the reception, which Shawn noticed with a hint of surprise. "Thanks, Spencer. I guess you're not a total waste of space all the time." With that, he flung open the office door and took off, presumably to buy flowers, leaving a mildly offended and highly entertained pseudo-psychic staring after him. Who knew that Lassie was a human being?
Well. Shawn rubbed his hands together. Time to bother Jules. He'd noticed she was wearing that perfume he had secretly left on her doorstep. Lassiter wasn't the only one who had trouble making his intentions known.
