Imposing on you a Happy Birthday! (rp for det_lassiter )

[dial_a_psychic]

There's one thing wrong with Carlton Lassiter's house.

It's perfectly well kept. Strictly clean, but not to the point of it looking like part of a General Hospital cheap scene. Who knows? They could be thinking about treating patients on their own homes now. With a spoonfull of sugar Lassie's place could be the perfect place.

Everything is clean

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[det_lassiter]

Not that he would ever admit it out loud, but Carlton was a little disappointed in the distinct lack of psychic presence at the station today. Today of all days.

O'Hara had apparently learnt her lesson and kept it lowkey. She couldn't resist the card and a small gift, and that was fine. It was nice, it was understated, it was free of Santa Barbara's worst turning up on his doorstep.

It was quiet.

He didn't want a big fuss made of him, but he'd prepared himself for it. It was like psyching yourself up for a big mafia bust and walking in on a kindergarten instead. Only, the kids would probably have had balloons, at least.

Opening his front door, his mind turned to just how he was going to spend his evening, seeing as this year he wasn't going to be packing his bags and going house hunting. It wasn't until he was hanging up his jacket that he realised that the tv was on. Cautiously, he moved to the front room, his hand hovering over his holster.

(ooc: So much love for that cake!!! Awesome! *g*)

[dial_a_psychic]

He heard Carlton's car engine in time. He double checked again his watch while opening the napkin that had been waiting for this moment in his jean's backpocket. It was beautifully spot on. Just a minute later than what he had predicted.

It was Lassie's fault for sure. He had probably stopped for gas, maybe a donut.

Turning his head to the front door he flashed his best 'good boy' smile. He haven't heard a 'Spencer!' yet. It was better to warn the owner of the house that there was no threat.

"Surprise!" He shouted in the front door's direction.

At least that was definitely more appealing than waking up in the hospital and looking like a colander.

(ooc: Heh! I'm glad you liked it. The photoshoping's not that good, but at least know it has the SBPD logo! XD)

[det_lassiter]

That was the word he'd been dreading, but expecting (looking forward too?), all day. He ducked out of instinct, casting around his hallway for any stray ex-convicts. Of course, there weren't any, but you don't get to be Head Detective without a healthy dose of paranoia.

Once he was satisfied that he was free of any unwanted surprises, he straightened up and followed the voice. He tried not to think about the fact that Spencer's presence wasn't unwanted.

"What are you doing here?" He demanded as he walked through the door, his attention instantly drawn to Shawn's feet on the coffee table. Again. And then to the cake sitting beside them. "How did you get in?"

[dial_a_psychic]

'I psychicly opened you door with my mind. It's a trick it took me ages to master and I use only in special occasions." Shawn said, briefly touching his head as if emphazising the psychic effect before returning his attention to the tv.

He continued changing the channels. After all, he'd already seen that 'Miami Inc' episode.

"Happy Birthday, Lassmature-hottie!"