Keeper [5/14]
Title: Keeper
Rating: T
Characters/Pairings: Lassiter, Juliet/Shawn, Team Psych, OFC, OMCs
Warnings: Spoilers, non-graphic abduction of a child, violence
Spoilers: 1.01 Pilot, 1.04 9 Lives, 1.13 Game, Set . . . Muuurder
Genres: Angst, Drama, Hurt/Comfort, Mystery, Romance, Het, Family, Friendship, Casefile, Future!Fic
Chapters: 14
Completed: Yes
Word count: 2835 this chapter
Disclaimer: See Prologue or Master Post.
Notes: See Prologue or Master Post.
Awards: See Prologue or Master Post.
Summary: Lassiter finally gets the proof he needs to bring Shawn Spencer's psychic charade to a screeching halt. If only it was that simple...
P 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 E
Shawn took the rest of that day and the next off to stay at home with Juliet. He probably would have stayed home the day after that as well but she'd firmly pushed him out the door and said that she had a doctor's note that said she didn't need supervision. She cut off his protests by promising to do nothing more strenuous than walking from bed to the bathroom.
She wasn't technically on bed rest, but laying down was the most comfortable and least awkward position she was capable of for the most part, so she had resigned herself to taking a break and just relaxing for this last month of pregnancy.
But she couldn't do that if Shawn hovered incessantly.
He finally agreed that he'd go to the office and try to work on the Rimini case, but only on the condition that he could come home at lunch and that she would keep her phone within arm's reach at all times so she could call him if anything at all changed.
She agreed and he kissed her cheek and left, Jaime buckled into his car seat for the ride to the preschool. They'd considered pulling him out so he could stay home with Juliet, but decided against it. If she wasn't up to chasing criminals she certainly wasn't going to be able to ride herd the entire day on a toddler with the energy of sugar-high triplets all condensed into one little body. She needed the mornings off at least.
After dropping his son off and checking in with Gus only to discover that his partner was busy with his other job this morning, he decided to go to the police station.
He doubted that he'd find anything there that would give him a push in the right direction on the case, but he needed to say thanks to Lassiter for his help the day before.
And there might be something new . . . he hoped.
o.o
He strode into the station, his eyes roving over everything and taking it all in. It was ingrained in him and one never knew when one might spot a vital clue-even if it wasn't relevant just yet.
He paused once he reached the bullpen area until he spotted his target standing by his desk with McNabb.
“Lassie-face!” he called and made his way over, grinning.
He saw the shoulder tensing and knew without a doubt that a scowl had just replaced whatever expression might have been there two seconds before.
Turning slowly, Lassiter forced a fake smile onto his lips.
“Spencer. I was just thinking about you!”
“You were?” Shawn said. “Wow. Because I was just getting a vibe from you,” he continued, his fingers coming up to his temples. “Something about how you think I'm . . .”
Lassiter rolled his eyes. “Please don't say psychic. I'd hate to have to upset Juliet by hitting you.”
Shawn's eyes opened and he lowered his hands a little. “I was going to say, 'incredibly grateful for helping Juliet the other day' actually. But that, too.”
Lassiter grunted, hiding his annoyance. Shawn couldn't do anything the normal way, could he?
“Well, you're welcome. She's my partner,” he added as if that was all the explanation needed. Though it kind of was.
Shawn smiled and tilted his head. “And she's my wife. I think that makes us in laws or something.” He slung an arm over Lassie's shoulder and grinned. “Doesn't it?”
With all the patience of seven years of enduring such things he said in a calm voice, “No, it doesn't. Remove your arm.”
Shawn complied and then turned to McNabb while Lassiter rolled his shoulders and brushed at his clothes to dislodge any lingering spores.
Like a fungus.
“Buzz! Nice suit there. So is it weird to be able to wear normal clothes to work? What has it been, a week since you got your badge?”
Buzz grinned his usual one-hundred watt smile. “Yeah,” he said and self-consciously looked down at his clothes. “You think it looks okay? It is kind of weird to have to think about what I'm going to wear to work,” he agreed.
“It looks fabulous,” Shawn reassured him. “So what brings you over here to Lassie-land?” He paused a beat then his fingers snapped up to his temple again. “Wait! I'm getting something . . . it's kind of fuzzy but . . . a peach? No . . . not that kind of fuzzy . . .” He gasped and dropped his hand. “You're Lassie's new interim partner while Juliet's on maternity leave.” Shaking his head as if to banish the last vestiges of his trance he said, “Seriously? That's awesome, McNabb!” he added as Buzz gaped at him in pleased surprise.
Lassiter resisted the urge to roll his eyes, but only just barely. You'd think McNabb had never seen this before despite having worked here for the last seven years just like the rest of them.
“You'll be learning from the best,” Shawn said, beaming at the junior detective. “I know I personally have learned so much from Detective Lassiter. He's got a depth of knowledge and experience that is just astounding. Play close attention to what he tells you, Buzz, because-”
Now the urge couldn't be suppressed.
“Offi-” He stopped and corrected himself. “Detective McNabb will be assisting me with the Rimini jewel thefts. You know, the same case you're supposed to be working on? You haven't had any 'vibrations' or 'messages from the other side' have you?”
“Not about the jewel robberies,” Shawn agreed, shifting topics without hesitation. “But they have been telling me that you need to relax. May I recommend a massage? I'd do it myself but well, being coworkers that would be just a little weird. But I know of this little place down on Broad Street with this tiny little Chinese woman . . . most incredible massage I've had in my life. Gus had to drive me home because my muscles were like warm butter, all soft and squishy. You should go see her. Tell her I sent you.”
Lassiter clenched his teeth as he listened to Shawn ramble on. He was describing the technique the masseuse had used to McNabb who was listening intently when Lassiter's temper snapped.
“You know the only time I tense up like this is when I have to deal with interference by a fake psychic.”
Shawn stopped cold and pulled his head back in surprise and confusion. Where had that come from?
“What?”
“If you don't have something to contribute to the case, then maybe you could be kind enough to leave us alone so we can do our jobs?”
Shawn glanced at Buzz, who looked just as confused as he felt, then back to the head detective.
“Who peed in your Cheerios this morning?”
“If you don't have anything, Spencer, then please, for the love of all that is holy, go away.”
“Oookay,” he said and started to walk backwards. He paused after a few steps, his brow still furrowed as he regarded the other man. “Are you okay, Lassie? Because I'm getting a vibe that something's wrong.”
Biting back the first thought that came to mind he inhaled and exhaled with deliberation. “It's nothing that your departure won't fix,” he said with feigned sweetness.
Shawn considered that and the man who'd said it, then gave up. “All right then. See ya round, McNabb. And Lassie, I can't stress how serious I am about that massage.” The muscle in Lassiter's jaw twitched from the way he was clenching it and Shawn decided that now was definitely the right time to leave.
“But it's up to you. Bye.”
Buzz nodded and waved. “Bye, Shawn.”
He waved back and then stuck his hands in his pockets and sauntered out.
Only when Lassiter was sure he was gone and not coming back did he force his jaw to unclench. It popped when he did so and he rolled his neck to relieve that tension as well.
“Go check with forensics and see if they have an updated report for us,” he ordered as he resumed his seat behind his desk.
“Yes, sir,” McNabb said and hurried quickly away.
Lassiter took a moment to let his head hang down as he tried to get his temper back under control.
They both probably thought he was nuts now, but they didn't know the whole story, did they?
Two weeks now he'd been wrestling with this and then last night he had been unable to sleep for thinking about what to do about Shawn and the DVD and it had made him just a mite cranky today.
He had to come to a decision. Preferably before he went stark raving mad.
But not right now, he didn't. Right now he needed to figure out who had stolen ninety-four thousand dollars worth of jewels.
With that thought he ruthlessly shoved the dilemma away and focused on the files in front of him.
o.o
“How was work?” Juliet asked when Shawn came home at lunch. “Made any progress on the case?”
“No.”
Juliet looked up at his tone, one of distraction and confusion.
“Is there some new evidence? What did the forensics people have to say?”
Shawn shook himself and looked up at his wife.
“Aren't you supposed to be on vacation from work?”
She rolled her eyes and speared a chunk of her salad. “I'm not at work because I can't walk right and it hurts to sit up straight for very long. Nothing is wrong with my brain though.” She shrugged. “And maybe . . .”
“Maybe what?” he asked.
She looked down. “It might be just a little bit boring here without anything to do all day.”
He grinned. “You've only been alone for half a day and you're already bored? You're not going to last the month at this rate.”
She scowled. “You're not helping.”
“Sorry,” he said, but the way his lips tried to twitch into a smile betrayed his sincerity for the lie it was.
She narrowed her gaze and he coughed to hide a laugh.
“I might be able to last the month if you'd give me something to work with.”
He considered as he ate a bite of sandwich, then swallowed and nodded. “Okay. It's not the Rimini thefts, but it's a tough puzzle and one that would help the case significantly if it were solved.”
“A connected case?”
“Sort of.”
“Well? Give me the details.”
“It's Lassie.”
She blinked in surprise.
“Carlton?”
“Yeah. He's been acting . . . I don't know. Weird.”
“Weird,” she repeated. “What does that mean?”
“Well I thought it was just his normal grouchiness, you know?”
She rolled her eyes at that because he only acted that way when Shawn was around and it was usually Shawn's fault. Well, half his fault.
If only they could get along for five minutes without baiting each other she was sure they could both be a lot more effective at their jobs. Compared to when they'd started seven years ago they had come to something of an understanding when it came to working together, but it was still very confrontational. They seemed to thrive on the sniping and competition. Mostly she chalked it up to them being guys and tried not to think about it too much.
“But this last week,” Shawn said, bringing her thoughts back to what he was saying, “it's gotten worse. And then today . . .”
His brow furrowed as he thought back to that scene in the station. It still didn't make sense.
“What happened?”
“He was even more crabby than usual. And it came out of nowhere. I mean, we were joking like we always do and then BAM! He just . . .”
“Snapped?” she asked.
“That doesn't quite convey the full effect of his behavior, but yeah. We'll go with that.”
“He's probably just under a lot of pressure to get this case solved.”
“Maybe,” Shawn admitted. But if that was the problem then he really needed to find something-anything-that they could use to move this thing forward. Lassiter couldn't continue the way he had been. He was going to have a nervous breakdown and really snap if this kept up.
And Shawn couldn't say exactly what it was, but he had an uneasy feeling about Lassiter's recent moodiness that was more than concern for the other man. He couldn't help but think that if it wasn't resolved-and soon-it would be bad for more than just the head detective.
“So were you able to get a hold of the day security manager at the store?”
Juliet's question pulled him back to the present moment and he blinked. “What? Oh, yeah. A total wash. He didn't have anything that we don't already know.”
“Do you have any theories?”
He snorted. “Does 'aliens did it' count as a theory?”
She smiled. “Can you prove it?”
“'Can they disprove it', that's the question to be asked.”
That triggered a memory of the discussion that he'd finished with Gus this morning and he coughed. “Speaking of questions . . . Gus broke up with Janelle.”
“Good,” Juliet said darkly. Then she realized what he'd said. “He broke up with her or she broke up with him?”
“Ah, that's kind of a matter of perspective,” he hedged, then added quickly, “but next time he said he'd prefer that you went to him instead of confronting her directly.” He watched her out of the corners of his eyes for her reaction and prayed he wasn't going to get chewed out for the second time that day.
He didn't even really do anything this time so it was doubly unfair that he kept taking the brunt of the angry feelings it created.
Juliet frowned, then blushed. Then she frowned again. “Wait, how did he find out? She told him?”
“Um . . . no. No, she didn't tell him.”
“Shawn.”
He looked up at the exact echo of the tone Gus had used during their first discussion of the topic. How did they both do that so similarly? It was creepy.
“It wasn't my fault,” he said right off so they were clear on that. “Apparently he went to her apartment and found her making out with some guy on her couch.” He frowned as he recalled that moment of discovery. “I'm not actually sure how he knew that I knew . . .” He shook it off. “But anyway, he called me on it at the office the next day and I sort of . . . might have . . . maybe . . . said that he wasn't supposed to know. Then he asked what that meant and it sort of went downhill from there.” He flashed his best 'I'm cute and you love me so please don't hurt me' grin.
She covered her eyes with a hand and sighed.
“You try to help a friend and this is what it gets you,” she muttered. “How much does he hate me?”
“Oh, Jules, he doesn't hate you. Don't be silly. This is Gus. He doesn't have the hate gland. Except as it applies to me,” he added, then waved it away. “But I probably deserve most of that and he doesn't even actually hate me. Not really. He'll get over it. He always does.”
He was saved from her response to that by his phone ringing. He pulled it out and flipped it open after a glance at the display.
“Buzz, my man, what's up?” He listened for a moment, his brows drawing down. “Uh huh. Okay. I'll be there in five. Thanks. Oh, Buzz, one more thing. Is Lassie still all pissy?” He listened to the reply and grimaced. “Yeah, I got it. Thanks.”
Ending the call he stood, then bent to kiss Juliet on the cheek.
“Gotta go. Another expensive rock has been stolen.”
“Another one?” she said in surprise. “But it's been over a week and a half since the last one. The first seven were all within days of each other. Why wait so long?”
“That's what I have to figure out. See ya, Jules.”
“Bye. Be careful!” she added, but he was already out the door.
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