The first thing she noticed as she rounded the corner to the police station was that Detective Lassiter's car was already in the parking lot. Melody winced, feeling guilty; she hoped he hadn't been working all night after their date. They hadn't gotten home until after midnight. She should have realized that the Head Detective was always on call and let him go sooner. The next thing she realized was that Gus's car was in the lot as well. This slowed her approach. Either the psychic team was paying a random visit to the station the same morning that Carlton decided to show up to work early, or the department had just gotten its hands on a high-profile case. Sighing, Melody quickened her pace; the phones would probably be ringing off the hook again today.

She nodded at the officer who sat at the phones overnight and tossed her purse under the counter, taking stock of the small pile of messages waiting for her. So far, just a few confirmations that prisoners had been transported successfully. Anything important would have already been relayed to Chief Vick. Melody glanced in the general direction of the chief's office. The door was closed, and through the blinds Melody could see Shawn Spencer and Gus standing in front of Vick's desk, along with detectives O'Hara and Lassiter. Shawn appeared to be flailing wildly, probably having a vision, although she had noticed that he tended to flail just for the fun of it. Melody smiled wistfully; she would love to have the chance to sit down with him and talk. She'd always believed in the supernatural and unexplainable, much to the chagrin of most of her professors who wished that she would just be a good scientist and doubt everything. But there were so many things that science still couldn't explain about the human mind; who was to say that psychic abilities weren't real? Shawn seemed to be a living example of the legitimacy of ESP.

Vick's office door opened and the four filed out, with Shawn and Gus leading the way. They were arguing about something that had Juliet in thinly veiled stitches. Carlton looked annoyed, as was normal after dealing with Shawn. Melody busied herself with tidying her desk, trying not to look like she had been watching the interaction in the office. The dynamic duo came to stand in front of her desk, the psychic with a cartoonish smirk and the pharmaceuticals rep with a look of weary tolerance. "What's up, Mel?"

Melody smiled warmly at the pair. "Good morning Mr. Spencer, Mr. Guster. New case?" It struck her as funny that Shawn had already given her a nickname, especially one that she had never let anyone call her before. Within a few days of meeting her, Shawn had gotten most of the station to call her Mel, with the notable exceptions of Detective Lassiter and Chief Vick. And Gus, but Melody suspected that was because he was sympathetic to victims of unwanted nicknames; he had initially been introduced to her as "Ghee Buttersnaps."

"Mel, please. It's Shawn and Gus. No need to be formal." Shawn reached across the counter to take one of Melody's pens; Gus elbowed him in the side and the psychic's arm retreated back to his side. "Some dot-com genius was found dead in his condo last night. Looks like a suicide, but my money's on murder."

"Why do you say that?" She leaned in, all ears.

Shawn put his hand up to his temple. "I keep getting strong vibes that his business had just gone down the tubes. He was completely broke. He had some pretty powerful investors who might do anything to get their money back."

Melody frowned. "But an Internet mogul who just lost all his money might have been desperate enough to kill himself. Is there any evidence of foul play?"

Shawn blinked, taken aback. "Wow, Mel, thinking of becoming a cop? That's exactly what Lassie said."

"Well, he said it with a little more disdain, Shawn. And he called you a nimrod."

The psychic glared at his best friend. "There's nothing definite yet, but something feels wrong about the suicide." He tapped his fingers on the counter for a moment before moving on. "See you later, Mel!" he called over his shoulder.

Gus shook his head and followed his best friend. "See you, Melody. Shawn! You are not driving!"

Melody laughed and watched as the two men drove off. She had no idea what the station had been like before acquiring a psychic detective team, but she imagined it had probably been a little quieter.

"Alright partner, let's go." Detective O'Hara strode towards the entrance of the station with purpose, slowing only to grin at the receptionist and wave on her way out. Melody waved back, then turned to see Detective Lassiter following at a slightly more measured pace. She felt the butterflies begin to well up again as she remembered for the hundredth time the feel of his lips on hers. Carlton came to a halt in front of her desk, an expression on his face that made her want to launch herself at his lips again.

"Good morning," he offered brightly. McNab, who was walking by at that moment, was so startled at the cheery tone in his superior's voice that he nearly ran into a wall. Oblivious to the near-disaster, Melody smiled and murmured a "good morning" in reply. "O'Hara's waiting for me, but I wanted to give you this..." Carlton dug in his pocket, pulling out a folded up note and placing it gently on the reception desk. He backed away with a smile, bumping into poor McNab and scaring the living daylights out of himself. "McNabb!" he barked, his ears turning red with embarrassment. "Watch where you're going!" He turned back and found himself staring into the eyes of a clearly amused receptionist. He straightened his tie unnecessarily and cleared his throat. "Have a good day," he offered as he beat a hasty retreat to his car.

Buzz watched Detective Lassiter go with anxious confusion. "I didn't mean to bump into him," he protested.

Melody laughed. "It's ok, Buzz. It wasn't your fault." The officer grinned, negative emotions gone, and continued on his way to his desk. Melody shook her head and looked out the window into the parking lot, where she could just see the Crown Vic pulling out into the street. She had noticed that Carlton tended to be a little... well, terse with people around the station. And just with people in general. But all of his co-workers seemed to know how to handle it and usually didn't let it bother them. And, truth be told, Melody found his tough-guy act sort of attractive.

Her eyes traveled to the note on her desk. She reached out slowly and unfolded the paper carefully as if it were a ticking time bomb. The message was written on SBPD stationary, and Melody smiled in spite of herself; she wondered if he had his own personal stock at home, or if he had written this at the station.

I know it's a little disappointing after flowers, but this note will have to do for now. Last night was wonderful. I hope you feel the same way. How does dinner on Sunday night sound? -Carlton

A thrill ran up Melody's spine. Did he really just say what she thought? He was the anonymous sender! She had guessed so when he first asked her on a date, but wasn't certain. But this note confirmed her suspicions. And he wanted to go out with her again!

Calm down, Melody, she reminded herself, taking a deep breath and forcing herself to focus on the to-do list for the day. You're acting like a teenager. It's just a date. You're both adults. She allowed herself one last minute to think about the detective, in which she jotted a quick response to his query in the affirmative and ran it over to his desk. Then she started in with her morning's work, beginning with coordinating a group of elementary students and their upcoming field trip to the police station. Twenty ten-year-olds? Shouldn't be too much of a problem to keep them under control, considering the majority of adults in the building were armed...

...

"So? How did it go?"

Detective Lassiter glanced at his partner, then returned his attention to the road. "How did what go?"

Detective O'Hara rolled her eyes. "Come on, Carlton, don't play this game. You came to me yesterday begging for advice for your date with Melody. How did it go?"

Keep your eyes on the road, Carlton. Left turn up ahead. "It went well," he replied mildly.

Juliet glared at her partner. "Well? Details! What did you do, what was she wearing, are you going on another any time soon?" It was killing the woman that she hadn't had a chance to talk to Melody yet; Carlton obviously wasn't going to volunteer any information. He just didn't have a grasp on the concept of girl talk. Which, Jules reflected, was probably a good thing.

Lassiter couldn't keep the grin from his face. He liked keeping O'Hara in suspense. "Detective, we're on a case right now. Shouldn't we be focusing on our suspects?"

"You're right," the woman admitted begrudgingly. "Ok, this first guy, Thomas Dillon? He's got a reputation for being a ruthless businessman. Rumor has it that he's been slowly eliminating his competition through the years, by every means possible, but no one's been able to nail him down for it."

Lassiter maneuvered the car into a parking spot outside a large office building. "Let's see if we can get some real evidence." He unbuckled his seat belt and climbed out of the car. Peering over the top of the car at his partner, he felt a smirk returning to his face. "And O'Hara?" She met his eyes, expecting orders. "I told her the Dead Clown story, and she laughed." He slammed his door closed and walked into the office building, leaving an astonished detective gaping after him.