Psych fic - Shawn/Lassiter - I Know You Know (A Love Song) 2A/?
Lucinda was leaning a hip on Lassiter’s desk and smiling slyly on the morning when everything changed (or, as Lassiter would come to call it, The Morning Before the Constant Headache That Will Last the Rest of My Life).
He knew the morning would be different, but even he hadn’t seen this morning coming. Oh sure, Lassiter expected changes. After all, he and Lucinda slept together for the first time the night before, so the dynamic between them was bound to undergo a few changes.
“I’m not going to start putting the toilet seat down,” Lassiter snapped as soon as Lucinda’s eyes opened in the morning.
Lucinda looked at him blurrily, “If you did, I’d be worried.”
Lassiter’s body relaxed for the first time in months, and Lucinda curled into his side.
They drove to the station in different cars, and Lucinda changed into her spare set of clothes she kept in the locker. Now here they were, chatting as usual, and Lassiter couldn’t suppress the warm wave of affection he felt nor bring himself to worry at the knowledge that he didn’t want to.
“I hate to interrupt,” Interim Chief Karen Vick said, not sounding sorry at all. “But I was wondering if I could trouble either of you to run a background check.”
Lassiter narrowed his eyes. From the beginning, Vick had pegged him as the disrespectful male who has delusions of superiority, and treated him as such. Frankly, he resented the judgment and had no qualms about letting his irritation show. Lucinda said he was only making it worse, but it was the principle of the thing that matter.
“Sure, Chief,” Lucinda replied smoothly and stepped between Lassiter and Vick. “What are we looking for?”
“This man was called in a few tips for us, more than a few actually. It’s starting to look suspicious.”
“I’ll take care of it.” Lucinda took the file from Vick and walked to her desk.
Lassiter and Vick eyeballed each other some more before Lassiter finally turned back to the paperwork on his desk. He listened to the Chief walk back to her office. At least she doesn’t wear heels, Lassiter thought to himself ruefully.
Minutes later Lucinda walked back over, file in hand.
“You know, Detective, this might be worth looking into.”
Lassiter raised an eyebrow but held out his hand. Lucinda dropped the file into it wordlessly.
When he flicked it open he glanced at the picture cursory, but it was the name below the picture that froze every muscle in his face.
Shawn Spencer.
He remembered that name. He knew that name.
“Detective?” Lassiter looked up to see the now familiar expression of worry crossing his partner’s face.
Lassiter cleared his throat, “Let’s go talk to Vick.”
Lucinda’s worry shifted to admonishment.
“Behave yourself.”
“She started it! With those condemning looks and the constant second degree.”
“And it has nothing to do with the fact that you’re still bitter about Fenich retiring.”
“No.” Lassiter crossed his arms and gave Lucinda his most intimidating look. She simply rolled her eyes and led the way to Vick’s office.
Vick, of course, had a different opinion on the subject of Shawn Spencer.
“I’m not fully convinced we have to bring him in for questioning.”
Lassiter stared at the Chief incredulously, “You can’t be serious, Karen.”
Vick’s eyes hardened and Lucinda coughed loudly.
“This man has called in over a dozen tips, and he has a record.” Lassiter’s voice raised steadily, stopping only when Lucinda nudged him softly with her shoe.
“Why is this so important to you?” Vick asked, and Lassiter tried not to squirm. The woman was smart; he’d give her that.
“I… have a feeling.” Lassiter felt stupid just saying it.
Vick gave Lassiter a hard look; “Gut feelings are not admissible in California Courts. One day you’ll have to come up with something better than that.”
Lassiter’s stomach twisted.
***
“I’m a psychic.”
The day rapidly moved downhill after speaking with the Chief. Three robberies, one assault, and still the McCallum case was steadily going nowhere.
Still, it was the word “psych” escaping from Shawn Spencer’s mouth that drove Lassiter over the edge.
“Get him out of here!” Lassiter orders unable to keep the rage completely out of his voice. He pressed a hand to forehead, which had started to throb.
“Oh, boy!” Spencer collapsed into the door as if experiencing a wave of dizziness. He turned slowly to Sergeant Downs with an expression of awe.
“Your grandmother would be so proud.”
He exchanged a look with Lucinda. She rolled her eyes at him as Spencer gave Downs pleasantries from beyond the grave.
“Just so we’re clear,” Lucinda said raising her hands in a halting motion. “You’re claiming to be a psychic.”
“How else would I know that you to are sleeping together?” Spencer asked, eyes flashing triumphantly.
Lassiter froze. Maybe, just maybe… No. There had to be a logical explanation for this. He narrowed his eyes slightly and focused.
No. Everything about this man screamed “liar.” He didn’t have to be… whatever it was that he is to know that. It would only be moments until Spencer was exposed for a fraud. Lassiter wasn’t sure whether to be disappointed or validated.
“That’s amazing!” McNab interrupted. Even Lucinda appeared disturbed.
“Come on,” Lassiter asked almost desperately. “Who’s buying this?”
Everyone apparently. Especially after the vandal’s shoe in room two provided the evidence they need to book him - just like Spencer predicted.
Part of Lassiter felt more alone than ever, wondering if it had been him screaming about visions and weird feelings would everyone be so willing to except it? Or would they simply start whispering behind his back? Lassiter quashed that part of himself quickly, watching Spencer intently as he chatted with Sergeant Downs at the front desk. Flashing feelings of smug self-satisfaction invaded Lassiter’s own emotions. Like Spencer had excited a casino with more money than when he arrived.
Lucinda walked over and quietly whispered, “What are you thinking?”
Not for the first time this day, Lassiter experienced an upsurge of affection for his partner. Vick might regard Lassiter’s “hunches” with skepticism, but Lucinda would always trust what he had to say.
“He wasn’t the accomplice, he’s telling the truth about that much.” Lassiter paused.
I know you, Mr. Spencer. Lassiter thought, trying to drill his inner voice into the back of Shawn Spencer’s skull. And you’re not fooling me.
Spencer glanced warily over his shoulder and met Lassiter’s stare. He left quickly afterwards.
And maybe that would have been that, but then Lassiter saw the Chief follow Spencer out. Lassiter groaned.
Lucinda glanced over, “Hum?”
“This isn’t the end of it. Not by far.”
“End of what?”
Lassiter shrugged, non-committal. But then Vick reappeared.
“Detective Lassiter, Detective Barry, my office please.”
Lassiter followed Lucinda into the Chief’s office where she informed them that Mr. Spencer would be added as a consult to the McCallum case.
Lassiter groaned, “Please tell me you’re joking.”
Vick’s gaze turned icy, “That would imply that you believe I think kidnapping is hilarious.”
Lassiter opened his mouth to reply, but Lucinda spoke first, “No one’s implying anything, Chief. Detective Lassiter and I are just unconvinced of Mr. Spencer’s sincerity.”
“Well then it might be prudent to keep him close so you can watch him,” Vick paused, and her next words where clipped with double meaning. “I hope you are professional enough officers to keep personal feelings out of the work place.”
Lassiter found the floor absolutely fascinating, but not before he saw Lucinda go bright red.
Vick stared hard a Lassiter, “And I never joke, Detective. You’ll learn that about me soon enough. Now don’t you two have a crime scene to investigate?”
“Yes, Sir.” Lucinda mumbled and practically ran out of the station.
***
Lassiter learned how much the Chief never joked when Spencer showed up at the McCallum house with his assistant.
“Showed up” at the house isn’t exactly the right phrase. “Waltzed in as if he owned the place” would be more appropriate.
“What’s he doing here?” Lassiter whispered furiously to Lucinda.
“What the Chief said, probably.” Lucinda still refused to meet him gaze, and she fled to the opposite side of the room as soon as she could.
Lassiter ignored the tightening in his throat by placing his coffee mug down on the counter and retreating to find the bathroom.
What he found instead was the nervous man Spencer had walked in with, wandering the halls and practically vibrating with poorly suppressed panic.
“Guster, right?” Lassiter asks not to clarify, but to let Guster know that Lassiter’s watching him.
“Um…” Guster squeaked and glanced around for an escape.
“So you’re Mr. Spencer’s assistant.” Lassiter leaned casually against the wooden doorframe, blocking Guster’s exit and providing the man with a clear view his holster in the same move. Guster’s eyes fixed on the gun, and widened.
“Tell me,” Lassiter tapped the handle of his gun idly, enjoying the way Guster swallowed loudly. “What’s he really up to?”
Suddenly, the walls slammed down in front of Guster’s eyes, and he stared at Lassiter directly and deliberately.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. Shawn’s only here to help.” Guster shoved past Lassiter without another word.
As their shoulder’s brushed, Lassiter knew Guster’s sincerity, belief, and fierce protection of Shawn Spencer.
Huh, Lassiter thought. Maybe Mr. Spencer's not as bad as I thought.
TBC
He knew the morning would be different, but even he hadn’t seen this morning coming. Oh sure, Lassiter expected changes. After all, he and Lucinda slept together for the first time the night before, so the dynamic between them was bound to undergo a few changes.
“I’m not going to start putting the toilet seat down,” Lassiter snapped as soon as Lucinda’s eyes opened in the morning.
Lucinda looked at him blurrily, “If you did, I’d be worried.”
Lassiter’s body relaxed for the first time in months, and Lucinda curled into his side.
They drove to the station in different cars, and Lucinda changed into her spare set of clothes she kept in the locker. Now here they were, chatting as usual, and Lassiter couldn’t suppress the warm wave of affection he felt nor bring himself to worry at the knowledge that he didn’t want to.
“I hate to interrupt,” Interim Chief Karen Vick said, not sounding sorry at all. “But I was wondering if I could trouble either of you to run a background check.”
Lassiter narrowed his eyes. From the beginning, Vick had pegged him as the disrespectful male who has delusions of superiority, and treated him as such. Frankly, he resented the judgment and had no qualms about letting his irritation show. Lucinda said he was only making it worse, but it was the principle of the thing that matter.
“Sure, Chief,” Lucinda replied smoothly and stepped between Lassiter and Vick. “What are we looking for?”
“This man was called in a few tips for us, more than a few actually. It’s starting to look suspicious.”
“I’ll take care of it.” Lucinda took the file from Vick and walked to her desk.
Lassiter and Vick eyeballed each other some more before Lassiter finally turned back to the paperwork on his desk. He listened to the Chief walk back to her office. At least she doesn’t wear heels, Lassiter thought to himself ruefully.
Minutes later Lucinda walked back over, file in hand.
“You know, Detective, this might be worth looking into.”
Lassiter raised an eyebrow but held out his hand. Lucinda dropped the file into it wordlessly.
When he flicked it open he glanced at the picture cursory, but it was the name below the picture that froze every muscle in his face.
Shawn Spencer.
He remembered that name. He knew that name.
“Detective?” Lassiter looked up to see the now familiar expression of worry crossing his partner’s face.
Lassiter cleared his throat, “Let’s go talk to Vick.”
Lucinda’s worry shifted to admonishment.
“Behave yourself.”
“She started it! With those condemning looks and the constant second degree.”
“And it has nothing to do with the fact that you’re still bitter about Fenich retiring.”
“No.” Lassiter crossed his arms and gave Lucinda his most intimidating look. She simply rolled her eyes and led the way to Vick’s office.
Vick, of course, had a different opinion on the subject of Shawn Spencer.
“I’m not fully convinced we have to bring him in for questioning.”
Lassiter stared at the Chief incredulously, “You can’t be serious, Karen.”
Vick’s eyes hardened and Lucinda coughed loudly.
“This man has called in over a dozen tips, and he has a record.” Lassiter’s voice raised steadily, stopping only when Lucinda nudged him softly with her shoe.
“Why is this so important to you?” Vick asked, and Lassiter tried not to squirm. The woman was smart; he’d give her that.
“I… have a feeling.” Lassiter felt stupid just saying it.
Vick gave Lassiter a hard look; “Gut feelings are not admissible in California Courts. One day you’ll have to come up with something better than that.”
Lassiter’s stomach twisted.
***
“I’m a psychic.”
The day rapidly moved downhill after speaking with the Chief. Three robberies, one assault, and still the McCallum case was steadily going nowhere.
Still, it was the word “psych” escaping from Shawn Spencer’s mouth that drove Lassiter over the edge.
“Get him out of here!” Lassiter orders unable to keep the rage completely out of his voice. He pressed a hand to forehead, which had started to throb.
“Oh, boy!” Spencer collapsed into the door as if experiencing a wave of dizziness. He turned slowly to Sergeant Downs with an expression of awe.
“Your grandmother would be so proud.”
He exchanged a look with Lucinda. She rolled her eyes at him as Spencer gave Downs pleasantries from beyond the grave.
“Just so we’re clear,” Lucinda said raising her hands in a halting motion. “You’re claiming to be a psychic.”
“How else would I know that you to are sleeping together?” Spencer asked, eyes flashing triumphantly.
Lassiter froze. Maybe, just maybe… No. There had to be a logical explanation for this. He narrowed his eyes slightly and focused.
No. Everything about this man screamed “liar.” He didn’t have to be… whatever it was that he is to know that. It would only be moments until Spencer was exposed for a fraud. Lassiter wasn’t sure whether to be disappointed or validated.
“That’s amazing!” McNab interrupted. Even Lucinda appeared disturbed.
“Come on,” Lassiter asked almost desperately. “Who’s buying this?”
Everyone apparently. Especially after the vandal’s shoe in room two provided the evidence they need to book him - just like Spencer predicted.
Part of Lassiter felt more alone than ever, wondering if it had been him screaming about visions and weird feelings would everyone be so willing to except it? Or would they simply start whispering behind his back? Lassiter quashed that part of himself quickly, watching Spencer intently as he chatted with Sergeant Downs at the front desk. Flashing feelings of smug self-satisfaction invaded Lassiter’s own emotions. Like Spencer had excited a casino with more money than when he arrived.
Lucinda walked over and quietly whispered, “What are you thinking?”
Not for the first time this day, Lassiter experienced an upsurge of affection for his partner. Vick might regard Lassiter’s “hunches” with skepticism, but Lucinda would always trust what he had to say.
“He wasn’t the accomplice, he’s telling the truth about that much.” Lassiter paused.
I know you, Mr. Spencer. Lassiter thought, trying to drill his inner voice into the back of Shawn Spencer’s skull. And you’re not fooling me.
Spencer glanced warily over his shoulder and met Lassiter’s stare. He left quickly afterwards.
And maybe that would have been that, but then Lassiter saw the Chief follow Spencer out. Lassiter groaned.
Lucinda glanced over, “Hum?”
“This isn’t the end of it. Not by far.”
“End of what?”
Lassiter shrugged, non-committal. But then Vick reappeared.
“Detective Lassiter, Detective Barry, my office please.”
Lassiter followed Lucinda into the Chief’s office where she informed them that Mr. Spencer would be added as a consult to the McCallum case.
Lassiter groaned, “Please tell me you’re joking.”
Vick’s gaze turned icy, “That would imply that you believe I think kidnapping is hilarious.”
Lassiter opened his mouth to reply, but Lucinda spoke first, “No one’s implying anything, Chief. Detective Lassiter and I are just unconvinced of Mr. Spencer’s sincerity.”
“Well then it might be prudent to keep him close so you can watch him,” Vick paused, and her next words where clipped with double meaning. “I hope you are professional enough officers to keep personal feelings out of the work place.”
Lassiter found the floor absolutely fascinating, but not before he saw Lucinda go bright red.
Vick stared hard a Lassiter, “And I never joke, Detective. You’ll learn that about me soon enough. Now don’t you two have a crime scene to investigate?”
“Yes, Sir.” Lucinda mumbled and practically ran out of the station.
***
Lassiter learned how much the Chief never joked when Spencer showed up at the McCallum house with his assistant.
“Showed up” at the house isn’t exactly the right phrase. “Waltzed in as if he owned the place” would be more appropriate.
“What’s he doing here?” Lassiter whispered furiously to Lucinda.
“What the Chief said, probably.” Lucinda still refused to meet him gaze, and she fled to the opposite side of the room as soon as she could.
Lassiter ignored the tightening in his throat by placing his coffee mug down on the counter and retreating to find the bathroom.
What he found instead was the nervous man Spencer had walked in with, wandering the halls and practically vibrating with poorly suppressed panic.
“Guster, right?” Lassiter asks not to clarify, but to let Guster know that Lassiter’s watching him.
“Um…” Guster squeaked and glanced around for an escape.
“So you’re Mr. Spencer’s assistant.” Lassiter leaned casually against the wooden doorframe, blocking Guster’s exit and providing the man with a clear view his holster in the same move. Guster’s eyes fixed on the gun, and widened.
“Tell me,” Lassiter tapped the handle of his gun idly, enjoying the way Guster swallowed loudly. “What’s he really up to?”
Suddenly, the walls slammed down in front of Guster’s eyes, and he stared at Lassiter directly and deliberately.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. Shawn’s only here to help.” Guster shoved past Lassiter without another word.
As their shoulder’s brushed, Lassiter knew Guster’s sincerity, belief, and fierce protection of Shawn Spencer.
Huh, Lassiter thought. Maybe Mr. Spencer's not as bad as I thought.
TBC