In honor of all the Lassiet writers (Loafer, Lawson227, etc) who have kept the eternal Lassiet flame alive.
Disclaimer: I don't own Psych or "Tight Fittin' Jeans." If I did, I wouldn't be sweating life.
Lassiter stared forlornly at his beer. It was another typical night at the Franks Saloon, alive with bright neon lights and dancing couples. Country music blared from the speakers. Well, sort of. The DJ had switched to Florida-Georgia Line, a barely reasonable facsimile of the genre. He had requested more Waylon Jennings, but only one song was played. He wasn't the usual cowboy type, but the beer was cheap and the bartenders did not believe in playing psychologist.
The routine was constant and welcome to Lassiter. He never cared much for unfamiliarity and surprise. Generally, it brought unwelcome news, like when Victoria decided to leave him citing his reserved manner. He thought it was going well until it all fell apart. Now he spent his time at the saloon spending dollars on beer and swill distractions.
Suddenly, the swinging doors broke open, and a honey-dripped blonde entered the room. She wore faded denim but the garments, while clinging lovingly to her curvy form, did not seem known to her. Nor did the concept of a honky-tonk. She tentatively glanced around the noisy room, the loud noises and the line dancers causing her to take an uncertain step backward.
Lassiter's police instincts always alerted him regarding newcomers to an area, but his blue-line nature wasn't responsible this time. It was his hormonal instinct. He had never seen such a lady and felt like a peasant who had just met a queen. Despite her uncomfortableness in the bar, she shone brightly with her halo of honey hair reflecting the neon signs.
Their eyes met. He never moved so fast. Even when chasing a no-good asshat criminal scumbag. All he knew was he had to make his gesticulations of submission before any other suitor arrived. There was no shortage of potential rivals.
He arrived in his space and she favored him with a bemused smile. Lassiter scrambled for words and said, "What's a woman like you, doing here?"
The lady raised her eyebrow and faintly replied, "Why does anyone visit a bar?"
Lassiter recovered and joked. "To watch for crime?"
She laughed. "Do you always wear such a white hat, cowboy?"
"Do you always visit honky-tonks?"
She said, "You've got me figured out but I'm not what I seem, and for a dance, I'll tell you about these tight-fitting jeans."
"Sure, I see, you're used to champagne but I'll buy you a beer."
"Alright. I never drank domestic before and the name's Juliet."
He brought her hand to his lips. "Carlton."
"You have amazing blue eyes, Carlton."
They danced as if they were long-time partners. He was amazed by their connection. He never had that chemistry with Victoria, and they spent years dating and married. He realized that the previous connection was contrived, a synthetic creature designed to fulfill what was expected of him.
Between dances, she slowly revealed bits and pieces of how she married money in the form of a local playboy Shawn Spencer. He recognized the name. The man fancied himself a novice detective and often butted in at local crime scenes claiming to have psychic episodes. His best friend Burton Gaster (he thought that was the name) was decent enough, if overly browbeaten by his exuberant friend's embarrassing displays. Spencer's wealth ensured the mayor prevented Lassiter or the Chief from throwing the miscreant into jail. Justice was blind and financially insolvent.
Those finances purchased Juliet's pearls. She admitted as such to herself. But she also wanted to be a normal boy's girl. Shawn could be funny and she laughed enough to justify marrying him. But those crystal candle-lights burned too brightly and she felt overwhelmed by their shadows. Juliet was a tiger trapped in a platinum palace. She tried talking to Shawn about her needs but he did not believe in conflict. A resolution was found in humor and 80s references.
So, she decided to escape for one night to a world where he couldn't and wouldn't follow. Juliet knew she was crossing a gray line. She wouldn't be her father; permanent disappearance was not the goal. All she wanted was one night of freedom and this handsome dark-haired cowboy offered the reins.
After a few dances, Lassiter steered her to the bar and ordered two Yuenglings. She took a sip and he chuckled as her face twitched at the unfamiliar taste. But Juliet kept going and finished the beer. Then, she and Lassiter polished off more beer and had no idea how much they went through. A cowgirl came alive inside those tight-fitting jeans with each beer and dance.
Their lips met and never had damnation felt like salvation. Yet, in his mind, she was still a lady. The contradiction did not make sense to Lassiter's logical mind. He accepted his broken existence. What was the point of fighting it? Juliet was a princess and royalty did as they pleased. They created and destroyed.
She stepped back and looked apologetically. "Carlton, I had a wonderful night, but-"
He could hear his mother's rebuke even before his resigned interruption. "You have to go."
She nodded. "I'll never forget this night."
He held up his hand. "Neither will I."
As she swiftly departed Lassiter caught one last glimpse of her tight-fitting jeans and knew he had held more woman than most eyes have ever seen. He turned back to the bar and ordered a shot. Then another shot. But no amount of liquor brand eliminated Juliet from his memory.
Time passed and he occasionally saw her back in her world but he was still stuck in his world of capturing bad guys and spending Friday nights at the bar but not the Franks Saloon. He moved to Tom Blair's Pub. The saloon provided one memory too painful to drink away and Lassiter knew he would always remember the time he had a millionaire's dream.
I've always enjoyed "Tight Fittin' Jeans" as a catchy and excellent piece of country music, but I will admit how cavalier the song is about cheating. I don't see Lassiter as being OK with cheating, but it could happen if worn down by life. Which is what I think happened with Lucinda.