Chapter Text
It starts with Shawn getting a case. Or trying to get one, at least.
"C'mon," says Shawn, in a very serious, non-whiny voice. He leans on Lassie's desk and savors his indignant squawking. "You've gotta have something. A kidnapping? Blackmail? What about an unsolved murder, those are fun."
Lassiter swats him off the desk with his notebook. "Don't you have some palms to read?"
"Yes, actually." Before he can react, Shawn grabs Lassiter's wrist and drags his hand up to his face, squinting. "Oh, wow, that's a short lifeline. Y'know, all that stress isn't good for you. Have you tried meditation?"
Lassiter yanks his hand back. "Chief!" he cries, like a kid tattling to a teacher. Jules snorts at her desk.
From the coffee machine, Vick says, "Lassiter, you're an adult. Spencer, I appreciate your... eagerness to help, but we're doing just fine without you."
Ouch. "Okay, but I have a feeling that-"
"If I need you, I'll call you. Now go home."
On any other day, Shawn might leave it at that. The cases always find him eventually and messing with Lassie can only go on for so long before even he gets bored with it. The thing is, he hasn't had a case in two whole weeks, and he does have bills to pay. So he opens his mouth, ready to annoy someone into giving him a job.
Until a very familiar voice shouts, "Daddy!" followed by running footsteps.
Shawn spins around. He's already crouching on instinct, just in time to catch an armful of five-year-old girl hitting him at terminal velocity. "Abby!" he says, only a little winded and a lot confused. She’s too big for him to carry now, unless he wants to throw his back out, but he makes up for it by squeezing her tight. "You're here! And not at school." He pulls back to squint at her. "Why aren't you in school?"
"Poison!" she shouts, throwing her arms in the air.
"What."
"Not poison, sweetie, gas leak," says Gus, rushing over from the entrance, Abby's little purple backpack slung over his shoulder. To Shawn, he explains, "They sent everyone home early. Should be fixed this weekend, though."
"They didn't call me," says Shawn, frowning. "Wait, how did you know about it?"
"They called me after you didn't pick up. I figured you left your phone at home."
"No way, I-" Shawn feels his pockets. "...I may have left my phone at home."
"Uh-huh."
Abby grins. "Can we get ice cream? Gus said we could get ice cream."
"I said you could ask your dad."
"I am!"
"Well, I never say no to ice cream." Her glasses are crooked - bright pink and glittery as hell, because his daughter has a refined taste - so Shawn adjusts them and brushes her hair out of her face. He's pretty sure he braided it this morning. He stands up, mentally adding more hair ties to the grocery list. Nobody told him having a daughter meant buying and losing so many hair ties. "Daddy's just finishing something up here, okay?"
From behind them, Shawn hears Lassiter's choked, "Daddy?"
Shawn turns. Jules is openly staring at him from her desk, the chief's eyebrows are raised all the way to her hairline, and Lassiter looks like he’s dying.
Abby realizes that they're all looking in her direction - or maybe she's just overwhelmed by all the new people - so she hides behind Shawn’s legs. His attention is torn between stroking her hair and looking at the others as they keep staring. "What? What's wrong?" He looks behind him, but all he finds is Gus, who shrugs.
"You're a father," says Vick, wide-eyed.
"Uh. Yes? Did you... not know that?"
"You never brought it up!" says Jules, getting up from her desk.
"You never brought it up?" says Gus. He sounds more frustrated than surprised, which, okay, rude.
Shawn steps to the side so he can stop whipping his head back and forth at people. Abby shuffles back with him, still hiding. "I don't know! I guess I didn't?" He thinks back on the past few weeks. "It was just... never relevant. Hey, Lassie, are you actually having a stroke right now? Please don't do that in front of my kid, that's traumatic."
"What's a stroke?" asks Abby.
"Don't worry about it," says Shawn.
"You have a kid," Lassiter finally says. He grips his desk like he's about to fall over. "You reproduced. How do you have a kid?"
Shawn covers Abby's ears. "Well, Lassie, when a man and a woman-"
"Don't."
Vick, who's been chugging her coffee like its the only thing keeping her sane, steps over to them. "Wait. So when you were trying to give me advice on crib safety ratings..."
"I told you I had personal experience!" Shawn points his thumb back towards Gus, who smacks it out of his face. "This one put the fear of God in me! Or, y'know, he all the horrible things that can happen in bad cribs."
Gus nods. "I'll lend you my binder," he says, because of course he still has the Baby Spencer Research Binder. He's such a nerd. What would Shawn do without him?
"That... would be very helpful, actually."
Gus grins.
Lassiter's jaw is still on the floor by the time Vick has gone back to her office. Abby tugs Shawn's hand. "Is that a stroke?" she whispers, but she's five, so she's just talking with a hoarse voice.
"Maybe," mock-whispers Shawn. He turns back to Lassiter. "Hey, Lassie? Hello. You in there?"
He doesn't even react to Shawn waving his hand in his face. "There's two of you," he says, with a thousand-yard-stare.
Shawn blinks. "Right. Not a stroke, just shock." He claps his hands and looks down at Abbey, staring up at him with those doe-eyes of hers, magnified a little by the glasses. He can't help but kiss her on the head, making her giggle. "How about we go while Detective Lassiter recovers from... whatever he’s doing. Which stage of grief is this?"
"Still denial," says Lassiter. "Might skip anger and go straight to bargaining."
Jules side-eyes him as she steps around his desk. "Oookay." She stops in front of Shawn, smiling down at Abby. "Hi, Abby. I'm Jules."
Abby peeks out from behind Shawn. "Hi," she mumbles. Shawn gives her an encouraging head pat.
"I like your glasses. They’re very sparkly."
Abby beams at that. “I know." Just like that, her shyness is gone. She hops in front of Shawn. "Daddy let me pick them. They match my shoes!" She stomps her feet, showing off her equally pink sneakers with glittery laces.
"They do!" Jules looks up at Shawn with a face that says, Congratulations, you made an adorable little human, you get a gold star. Shawn gets that face a lot. What can he say? He has a great kid. The world's best kid, probably.
Gus' familiar ringtone goes off. He fumbles before answering his phone. "Hello!" he says, in the same voice he always uses for work calls. "Yes- Yes, I’m handling it. Have handed it. No, no, I can make it back to the office soon!"
He and Shawn communicate in a series of faces while Gus talks to his boss. Finally, Gus says, "Yep, I am on my way as we speak, see you in- And he hung up. Okay, let’s go!"
Abby gives Gus her most heartbroken look. "You’re going back to work?"
He sighs. "Just a couple more hours, baby girl, then we can hang out all weekend."
"But Gus," she whines. "You don't have to go back! It's Friday!"
"Yeah, Gus," whines Shawn. He throws his best pout in for good measure.
Gus points Abby. "Don't make that face at me. You know I'm weak." He points at Shawn. "You, though, I can resist."
Shawn gives up. "Eh, worth a shot. Still up for ice cream, Abs?"
"Ice cream!" she shrieks, all sadness forgotten. Jules winces at her volume. Shawn mouths sorry. "I'm getting strawberry with cookies and cream and marshmallows on top! And a cherry!"
"I thought you didn't like cherries?"
Abby’s already dragging Shawn to the door. “I might this time!”
She never does. Shawn's not gonna fight her on it. "Alright! Gus, you coming?"
"She's not going on your motorcycle. I'll drop you guys off on the way to work." He goes ahead of them to hold the door open.
"Please don't impound my bike," he asks Jules. He'd finally gotten it last year after getting rid of his first one when Abby was born. He knew that baby carriers and motorcycles don't mix, thank you very much. He had to Google it first, but still.
Jules gives him a thumbs up before waving goodbye. "It was nice meeting you, Abby!"
"Bye, Miss Jules!"
As he follows Abby out the door, Shawn hears Lassiter say, "Okay, but you can't prove this isn't a nightmare."