A/N: I apologise for the slight delay. It's been something of a long week.

Disclaimer: I don't own Psych. Enjoy.

"You alright in there?" Juliet knocked gently on Carlton's bedroom door. He opened one eye, and closed it again.

A dream with Juliet in it.

"Carlton?"

That's nothing new.

More knocking.

Although I don't remember ever feeling like I've been hit with a steamroller in a dream before.

"Carlton, are you okay?"

But she couldn't be here. I haven't seen her since-

Suddenly reality (and a hangover nasty enough to send anyone else straight to the bathroom) hit Carlton like a train to the teeth.

Oh my god.

He got up quickly (a mistake) and wobbled over to his bedroom door, flinging it open.

"Hi," she said, smiling at him softly.

"Hi." he replied, breathless.

"Your hair is a little messy," she said. His hand half rose to touch it, but it shook so hard that he let it fall back down to his side.

"I'm sorry." he said hoarsely.

"About?"

"Last night. I was really, really drunk-"

"You really got messed up, Carlton. I'm surprised you're upright," Juliet said, giggling a little. "Do you want something light to eat?" He stared at her, wide eyed.

"You didn't have to stay the whole night." he said. Juliet shrugged.

"It's alright. If you were going to be sick, I wouldn't want you to be sick alone." she said.

"I didn't though." he said.

"No, you didn't. It was touch and go for awhile, but you seem to have come out of the whole thing hungover but alive." she said approvingly. "Would you like some aspirin?"

"Dry toast, coffee and aspirin," he said thickly. "Yeah." He sat heavily on the end of his bed and watched her as she descended the stairs to his kitchen and dropped out of sight.

I told her I loved her, thought Carlton. I told her that and she's still here.

He pulled himself wearily to his feet and stumped to the top of the stairs, surveying her warily as she pulled bread from the toaster and plopped it onto what ought to have been a tea saucer. She didn't look angry or upset, and in fact hummed tunelessly as she made him his breakfast.

"Where do you keep your aspirin?" she asked, standing on her tiptoes to look in the cabinet over his sink.

"Top shelf." he said. She nodded and smiled at him a little over her shoulder. He sat at the table and put his head down on its surface. He heard her turn and giggle at the sight of him.

"Three creams, four sugars?" she asked.

"No. Black." he croaked.

After a moment of pause, he heard dishes being set down on the table, and the other chair being pulled out so that she could sit across from him. He pulled himself up from the tabletop and looked carefully at her. She had a hopeful expression on her face, and gestured slightly to the meager breakfast in front of him. He slowly picked up the toast and tore off a corner of it.

"Why did you stay all night?" he asked. Her cheeks turned pink.

"You...I mean. You said something to me last night. I wanted to know if you...if you-"

"If I meant it?" he snapped. She bit her lower lip and nodded.

He looked at her for a long time, trying to deconstruct her. Trying to understand what she would say if he told ehr the truth-that yes, he was in love and yes, he meant every word, and how could she have ever have thought otherwise? Didn't she have working eyes? Didn't she have a working brain?

She was sitting now, very nervously (he'd seen it before in her in the Chief's office when she bent department rules, or when anyone talked about her father. Her left leg was tucked up under her, her hands clasped in her lap and her gaze trained on his face, both penetrating and hopeful that she'd hear what she wanted to. He glanced down at her hands and noticed she was squeezing them together to keep from trembling.

"Did you talk to Spencer?" he asked. She nodded mutely.

"Are you serious?" he asked gravely. Her expression changed from nervousness to half-offense.

"Do you doubt it?" she asked.

"Well, seeing as we had sex twice before you said anything to him, forgive me if my confidence isn't exactly through the roof." he replied coolly. A vague flicker of hurt passed like a shadow over her face, and he immediately regretted saying anything.

"I'm sorry, Carlton." she said softly. "I'm sorry I put you through that." he sighed and smiled gently at her.

"I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have even brought it up." he said, then took a deep lungful of air. "I love you, Juliet."

She grinned, so brightly that it almost hurt to look at her. He felt his insides crunch together; only partially because of his hangover.

"I'm so, so glad, Carlton," she said, breathless. "I love you too."

He was speechless for a moment, but really, there was very little that needed to be said. She got out of her chair and walked to him; suddenly he was standing too, and he was pulling her close. He was kissing her.

I love you too. She'd said it. He'd heard it from her lips.

I love you too.