Work Text:
It looked like a party store curled up and died on Lassiter's desk. The shape resembled something like a gift basket in theory, in the same way stars can sort of resemble constellations or optical illusions might look like a face if you squinted. Whoever made this had decided to wrap the entire basket in its entirety, and seemed to use up an entire roll of wrapping paper doing so. It functioned - neither Lassiter or O'Hara could tell what this was supposed to be on initial examination.
It was obvious who the donor was. Even aside from the hack-job and garish pattern, (seriously, how much of a market for neon green pineapple wrapping paper could there be), he'd left a Psych business card as a tag.
That was their current problem. It was a surprisingly succinct message, gratuitous use of emojis (on a written note) aside. It was just... vague:
to my fav cop <3 ;) h&k - Shawn (head psychic of scb spbd sbpd)
The two detectives had been insulting the wrapping job when they finally read the note, but each had gone quiet afterwards. Not for a long time. Just a couple of uncomfortable seconds they each spent glancing between the present and their partner.
It was Juliet who spoke up first.
"He misspelled the acronym."
"Twice," Lassiter added. Another moment of silence fell between the two.
"Aren't you going to open it," Juliet finally asked, and Lassiter actually had the nerve to look offended by that insinuation.
"What?"
As if trying to explain something very simple to someone very stubborn, Juliet gestured towards the present (that everyone else in the precinct was pointedly trying not to stare at.)
"It's obviously for you, Carlton. It's on your desk. Besides," she continued, trying and failing to stifle a grin, "the H&K bit is your thing. Right, mister four wheel drive?"
"...It was all weather tires," and if O'Hara hadn't been pleased before she sure was now. "That's not the point. Look, you know he has some weird infatuation with you."
"We're just friends, now. We talked it out."
"Still. He obviously likes you the most out of everyone here--"
"Anyways. Let's just leave it be for now. We have actual cases to solve that aren't about Shawn, thankfully."
If Lassiter noticed her obvious subject change, he had at least enough common decency to not mention it. He just moved the present on the floor, beside his desk, and the two got to their actual job.
It was sometime afternoon when the gift resurfaced. It had been the only Psych related shenanigan that day, which meant more of what the two liked to consider 'actual police work'. They'd hit a lull by then, though, and Juliet had started eyeing the gift basket with suspicion.
"What?"
"He wouldn't... Shawn wouldn't put evidence in there, right?" She laughed, this time a little more forced. "I mean, that'd be ridiculous, even by his standards."
Lassiter didn't have a response to that, aside from a dawning look of horror on his face. Before he could find the words for how he felt about that potential nonsense, Juliet had reached over to yank the present over to her desk.
"Hey!" Without thinking, Lassiter reached to grab it back. There was another moment of uncomfortable silence between the two, but the energy had changed. (And not just because of the small audience of officers trying to keep their interest unnoticed.)
"What're you doing?" O'Hara had a habit of laughing to deflect things, Lassiter was noticing. When that didn't work, an edge of seriousness crept into her voice. "Carlton, it's my gift."
"...Well, technically, it was on my desk."
"Really?"
"You said that before! And the thing in the note. That's our thing, right?"
"When did you and Shawn get a 'thing'? You guys can't stand each other."
"We've moved past that."
"Since when? Last time he was here you spent the entire time arguing."
"It's -- it's complicated. You wouldn't understand."
"I wouldn't understand because he likes me more than you!" With any rational thought being thrown out the window in favor of her competitiveness (and maybe because of her weird relationship with the local psychic), Juliet took that moment to pull back against Lassiter's grip. "Admit it. I'm his favourite."
"He saved my life!" Not one to be outdone (and with an equally as confusing relationship with the resident annoyance), Lassiter pulled back. "And I saved his! Multiple times, actually. He trusts me."
"I've saved him too! Why do you think he always calls me when something goes wrong?"
"Because I'm usually already there, O'Hara!"
"Guys?"
"What," the two practically shouted in unison, only to see most of the station watching their argument. Buzz, the one who interrupted in the first place, looked decidedly uncomfortable standing between the two desks.
Lassiter immediately let go of his hold on the basket, letting Juliet gently place it on the floor. If the quiet between the two had been uncomfortable before, the entire precinct sharing in the moment only amplified their mortification.
At least the Chief seemed to still be in her office. At least the din of the building returned as everyone continued on with their business.
(At least Shawn hadn't been there to witness that, God forbid.)
"Maybe," Buzz began, some of those good old conflict resolution skills kicking in. "You can both open it? If it means that much to you, I mean?"
Lassiter and O'Hara both began to protest, but neither was able to form any coherent sentence given their display just moments before. Wordlessly, Juliet grabbed the basket and set it on her desk. Lassiter crossed over, and the two tore the paper off with only some difficulty. (Good lord, that was a lot of tape.)
"Is this... what the hell is this?!"
Juliet had gotten in first, and pulled out a strip of leather with a silver tag. Both detectives blanched.
"Is that..." Unable to say his suspicions out loud, Lassiter pointed at his neck with all the grace he could muster. Jules nodded.
"Oh!" With a swift motion, Buzz grabbed the collar from Juliet's hand, the duo's horrified looks now falling (without notice) onto him. He examined the tag, and smiled. "Oh, that's cute!"
Buzz took Lassiter and Juliet's hesitation and ripped the rest of the gift open. The rest of the things inside were unwrapped, too - what looked like a tiny leather coat, a bag of... cat treats?
"The cat," Lassiter finally said, his voice as dim as Juliet's expression.
"Yeah! Mrs. Pickles! Shawn likes to get updates on hi-- her, from time to time. Photos, and stuff. We started doing little costumes, and he thinks it's the funniest thing ever." Buzz dug through the gift basket, pulling out a cat appropriate sized policeman's hat and handcuffs. "This is really nice. I wonder where he got it?"
With that thought, Buzz grabbed his basket and wandered off, leaving Juliet and Lassiter alone at their desks.
"...We never speak of this."
"Agreed."
Not that their agreement helped matters. The next time they walked in to the station and saw Buzz chatting with Shawn (the psychic in full on hysterics with his laughter) they both unanimously decided to take an early lunch.