Chapter Text
"Gus! Get in the Blueberry, we have a case!"
Shawn came bursting into Gus's office at Central Coast Pharmaceuticals, holding a tart with a piece of tape hanging off the tin, labelled "Jeff".
"No, no, no, Shawn!" Gus protested. "Whatever it is, we aren't taking it. You may not sympathize, but I have a lot of work to catch up from when you dragged me away for our last case!"
"Gus! Don't be a cold, wet, sandy bathing suit," Shawn complained. "We haven't had a case in weeks!" He took a bite of Jeff's tart.
Gus shot him a withering glare. "We finished a case yesterday."
"Okay, alright, fine. We haven't had a case in fourteen hours!" Shawn corrected with his mouth full, somehow making it sound like an even worse fate. He grabbed Gus by the arm and yanked him right out of his chair, knocking over a mug on his desk. The element of surprise carried him out of the office and into the hallway before Gus pulled away.
"Look," Shawn said, panting. "Lassie says he wants us on this. It's probably serious. I firmly believe it is our moral responsibility to help him out."
"Lassiter wants us on a case?" Gus asked incredulously, rubbing his forearm.
"Well, actually, he said that the Chief said that she wants us on a case," Shawn admitted.
"We have been doing back-to-back cases for weeks," Gus said, staring pointedly at Shawn. "This isn't about the cases. This is about your obsession with Lassiter."
Gus' declaration caused a few heads to turn in their direction.
"Not so loud!" Shawn hissed, glancing around to make sure no one was too interested. He seized his wrist again and led him out of the cubicles, not speaking again until they had reached an isolated hallway on the way to the exit.
"I am not obsessed with Lassiter!" Shawn huffed.
"Sure," Gus allowed, following his friend against his better judgement. "I'm sure you only throw yourself at him all the time because he's just a friend. I wouldn't be surprised if the Chief started putting you two on all your cases together, just to see what happens."
"I do not throw myself at him," he insisted, choosing to ignore the latter statement.
Gus sighed. "I could prove to you a million times over why that is categorically untrue."
"You could not!" Shawn scoffed, immediately wishing he hadn't.
"You show up at every single one of his crime scenes," Gus began, counting on his fingers. "You took on a cold case that we didn't get paid for and gave up all the credit, so he would stop thinking he was a bad cop. For four years you have tried to impress him every single chance you got. I could go on, you know."
"I think I get the point," Shawn muttered. "It doesn't matter either way. Lassie has made his position very clear."
Gus sighed; a little out of pity, but mostly because his best friend was an idiot.
The two reached the reception desk, where Gus insisted on signing out even though he had no decent reason to leave. "I'm in enough trouble already for your last stunt, Shawn," he grumbled.
Tapping his foot impatiently as he waited, Shawn did a scan of the receptionist. Loose shoes, large dress, he noticed. He spotted a Starbucks cup next to her mouse (right handed, he noted absently). Drinking decaf. Pregnant. Boring.
Gus finally finished his lengthy signature and handed her back her pen. "Thank you," he over-enunciated, seemingly ignoring the gilded ring prominently posted on her finger.
Shawn snorted in disgust. "Stop flirting, hurry up."
"Let a player do his thing, Shawn."
He rolled his eyes and followed Gus to the car, where he sat silently. He could feel his friend's occasional sideways glance, but he was too busy being moody at him to talk. I am not obsessed with Lassiter! he insisted to himself. Gus is crazy. What does he know?
When Gus pulled into an empty spot at the station, he allowed Shawn to lead him out of his car and inside with minimal resistance. He stopped in his tracks when he spotted the familiar cluster of detectives and cops around the monitor, listening to Lassiter giving a briefing.
"Oh no Shawn," he protested. "I am not getting involved in some high-profile case, where I'll probably be shot and buried in a shallow grave! I am going back to work, and I am going to go to the meeting that I have rescheduled four times because of you, and I am going to leave you to deal with your middle-school crush, and you can't stop me!"
He turned around and marched out of the station.
"Gus!" Shawn called after him, sighing when he didn't stop. "Come on, man!" Gus had been going through a sort of "rebellious" stage, ever since the incident with Camp Tikihama and Clive. He kept trying to prove he was all independent or something, that he didn't need Shawn to protect him – Shawn guessed that was what this whole thing stemmed from.
No matter the reason, he knew that he was now on his own for the weekend. What better way to spend it than solving another case?
Shawn made his way delicately through the crowd of officers so he could see the slideshow. The faces of five prisoners in their orange uniforms were displayed on the screen. He tuned into what Lassie was saying.
"...considered armed and highly dangerous. So far, it looks like they had the warden on their payroll. He disarmed the alarm system long enough for them to break out. We already have him in custody, and are questioning him about the possible whereabouts of the five prisoners."
"Well then what did the Chief want me for?" Shawn asked loudly.
Lassiter stopped talking and gave him a hostile glare. "Why do you feel the need to constantly interrupt my briefings?"
"C'mon Lassieface, don't be a sourpuss. Chief Vick just didn't think you were cut out to catch these guys. No biggie. I would be happy to assist of course."
The sarcasm on Lassiter's face reached lethal levels. "Spencer, I wouldn't accept your help on this case if Sweet Lady Justice herself came and handcuffed us together."
"Kinky," Shawn muttered under his breath.
"Besides, this isn't my case anymore." He looked rather virulent about this fact.
"Huh," Shawn mused, spinning around and heading to Chief Vick's office, Lassiter on his heels. Before he could burst in, the Chief opened the door herself, meeting him in the doorway.
"Mr. Spencer, Detective, into my office."
She turned and walked around her desk to sit down; she opened her mouth to speak, but stopped to frown when she saw Shawn standing there alone.
"Where is Mr. Guster?"
Shawn sighed. "He took a vacation from detective work, as of eight minutes ago."
Lassiter snorted. "Like you two clowns could be considered detectives."
Chief Vick shot him a warning glance. "Anyway, I want you on a case, with or without Gus."
"Really?" As pleased as he was to have a case, Shawn was surprised. He would have thought the Chief would be happy with just Lassie on the case, at least until he completely screwed it up.
"I have an assignment for the two of you," she said.
Oh God, Gus was right, Shawn thought, silently beseeching the Chief not to do it.
Lassiter and Shawn looked at each other suspiciously. Surely the Chief knew by now just how poorly they worked together without a mitigator?
"I'm short on officers, so I need you on a case," she elaborated.
Lassiter raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure this is the best idea, Chief? I mean-"
"For God's sake, Detective, you don't even know what you're doing yet." Chief Vick handed them a case file. Lassiter frowned.
Smugglers? Shawn read. "Um, excuse me, Chief? But why do you need me on this case?"
"Usually, I wouldn't," she admitted. "But I don't have anyone else to do it. The Feds are itching to take this case away from us. These guys are international smugglers and they are extremely dangerous." She looked at Shawn as if this were an enticement. Shawn couldn't say it wasn't.
"You won't be able to get any other officers on this case either," she added, still looking at Shawn. He couldn't say this wasn't enticement either.
"And you want us to wrap it up fast," he concluded. She nodded. Lassiter still looked less than pleased.
"I don't see why Spencer has to be on this case," Lassiter scoffed.
"Come on, Lassie! I'm delightful," Shawn argued.
"Enough!" Chief Vick ordered. "Go! Solve your case! And," she added as they were leaving, "work together."
Lassiter grumbled something along the lines of "mucking fell", but Shawn decided it was safe to assume he had misheard. Clucking shell? Taco Bell! he speculated. He was still thinking when Lassiter grabbed his arm and dragged him to his desk.
"Ok," he grumbled. "If I have to work with you, then there are going to be rules. Rule number one-"
"Lassie, where's Jules?" Shawn interrupted.
He sighed. "Working what was going to be my case."
Lassiter continued to list his rules, so Shawn tuned out and flipped through the case file. Smugglers. Trafficking stolen diamonds worldwide. Selling them to whoever they could. Large, recent shipment distributed around Santa Barbara. Worth tens of millions. Previously apprehended, but let go on a formality.
He flipped further, to the mugshots. Tattoos. Wolves. All of them have one on their left shoulder. One woman with a scar on her cheek, one guy with horrible hair and one with a big bushy beard. Leaders of a small network.
He tuned back in. Lassiter was still talking.
"...and lastly, absolutely NO animals in my car. Got it, Spencer?"
"Mm-hm. Yup. Capiche. En comprende," he answered, doing the last one in a horrible Spanish accent and not completely sure he was using it right. Although he did wonder, under what circumstances would Lassie expect him to take an animal in the car?
"So what do we do now?"
"We go look around. See if anyone knows anything," Lassiter said, pulling out a list of known associates from the file. "Oh, and no feet on my dash."