Chapter Text
The sound of the infamous Shawn Spencer’s battered shoes tapping across the Santa Barbara police precinct immediately snapped Carlton Lassiter out of his apparent trance, induced by yelling at countless vandalizing teenagers as he waited for their parents to pick them up. He looked around the bullpen frantically as his eyes almost instinctively landed on Spencer’s bright, ridiculous apparel: made more ridiculous by the contrast of Gus’s professional, muted palette trailing mere steps behind him.
He sighed heavily and tried not to think about Victoria hating when he did so, and turned to the teenaged delinquents; staring through them viciously as he pointed an intimidating and accusatory finger at them.
“Move a muscle while I’m gone, I peg you for obstruction of justice. And on top of your other offenses, by the time the lawyers negotiate an appropriate sentence, you'll all be old enough for big-boy jail. Got it?”
Lassiter tacked on an extra-condescending smile as the boys rolled their eyes in acknowledgement. What justice would they be obstructing? He didn’t know. Him escaping the grasp of the pseudo-psychic seemed like justice to him, though. He walked away, in hopes of someone being stabbed with every step he took, forming a new case for him to bury himself in without Shawn Spencer interfering. He could use some thoughtless detective work right around now.
Taking glances every now and then back at them as he walked, he got a few weird glances: not obvious enough for him to call the morons out, but it's not like it mattered, god knows he didn’t care. He knew cops were meant to be paranoid. and though he was always told he took it “too far,” by Victoria, by O’Hara, by Spencer, Carlton didn’t believe too much paranoia existed. I mean - really. Why was he even thinking about Shawn’s opinion? The guy wasn't even a detective! Just some phony who managed to measle his way in-
Suddenly, he felt the cold tile against his palms. This sensation was not before the pressure against his chest, presumably what had positioned him on the ground. In front of the entire station. Carlton tried to ignore the fact he knew exactly who had collided with him.
“Woah, Lassie-frass! You okay?”
Shawn went into a ramble about how “Lassie” should be watching his step and that he was late because he just had to try the new pineapple slushie they were serving at the near-by gas station and then it made his hands all sticky and-
Lassiter had tuned him out when he heard the word pineapple. He blinked harder than needed a few times, and reluctantly looked up to his partner standing over him concerned, a slight turn of his head, and a babbling Shawn Spencer who was pointing out ceiling tiles was suddenly in view: with a fearful Guster next to him, sensing the fact that Lassiter was indeed, about to murder his best friend.
Shawn turned his head back to Carlton, confusion painting his features.
“Oh, hey! You still down there?” He exchanged glances with Juliet and Gus as he continued speaking, oblivious to Lassiter using breathing techniques his couples’ therapist had taught him, because he knew he couldn't get away with killing Spencer infront of all these witnesses.
“I guess your body’s finally catching up to your graying hair!” Shawn chuckled light-heartedly, looking perplexed as he briefly peeked at Juliet, sighing in anticipation and exasperation as she put her face in her hands, similar to Guster, who was bracing for impact.
The impact came when Lassiter stood up, ignoring Shawn and O’Hara’s extended hands, dusting himself off as he sighed with closed eyes.
Shawn, for some god-awful reason, continued:
“Oh, Lassie! Me and Gus are doing a Saw marathon tonight! You should totally joi-”
He was cut off by the curt, sharp sound of Lassiter’s voice: cutting through the tense silence of the precinct like a steak knife.
“I suggest you lock your doors tonight.”
Lassiter added after a minute of consideration,
“...And I’d lock your bike up, too.”
Somehow, Lassiter was even scarier when he was not yelling.
He stormed off, presumably going to wait in the car for Juliet, although they were caseless. O’Hara figured she’d humor him by following him out as a silent form of backing her partner up, but as she trailed a few feet behind him (for safety), she walked backwards, facing Shawn and Gus, gesturing with her hands and mouthing a few phrases along the lines of: “Are you CRAZY?!” “What have you done?!” and “He’s going to KILL YOU!” as she swiftly turned back around, her ponytail swinging anxiously behind her.
The station gingerly resumed chatter and life as Lassiter was finally out of the building and unable to murder every single one of them.
Shawn turned to Gus, looking at the door the duo had exited moments before, his brows furrowed:
“Huh… that was weird.”
Gus scoffed, and let out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding.
“DUDE! Are you insane?! Why on God’s green Earth would you rile up Lassie like that?!”
Gus was whisper-shouting, his fight or flight instinct under the impression Lassiter would be back any second to finish them both off: as if that threat alone hadn’t almost made him squeal and leave Shawn to fend for himself; not that he seemed bothered by it.
Shawn laughed, his words sprinkled with a pretentious undertone as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“Because it’s fun! Duh!”
Shawn looked around the bright station, hoping to feed his ever-growing feeling of absolute boredom somehow without Carlton around.
Gus was still frozen in shock from fear and now whatever feeling describes realizing your best friend is an absolute idiot.
“Dude… you’re gonna get yourself killed.”
Shawn smiled wickedly as he beckoned Gus out of the establishment: declaring it useless to him with no case and no Lassie.
“Come on, I bet I can throw pebbles harder and farther than you.”
Gus scoffed,
“Please, Shawn. That is childish behavior a responsible adult like me would not participate I-”
“Last one to the sea has to do the office dishes!”
Shawn shouted over his shoulder, already running as fast as he could.
“Oh no you don’t!”
Gus quickly abandoned his “professionalism” and ran after his dangerous, probably-the-target-of-a-hitman, bestfriend.
There was a knock at the Psych office door just as Gus was straightening the place up after finishing the dishes.
In his defense, Shawn had a head-start.
The so-called trackstar was passed out on their shared couch, he hadn’t even made it through the first Saw. Gus rolled his eyes annoyedly looking at him, but realized it was late at night, Shawn was asleep, and who the hell was knocking at this hour? He was about to shake his best friend awake when he heard a familiar voice: muffled by the door.
“Gus! It’s me! Juliet!”
Gus sighed with relief as he quickly opened the door, glad she wasn’t a murderer or Lassiter, but still assuming something was terribly awry considering Juliet never came by their office.
“Hey Jules, everything okay?” Gus asked with concern glossing over every feature on his face.
Juliet sighed,
“No,” her face lit up “...but I have a plan.”
Gus nodded and moved aside to let her in as he concluded there most likely wasn't any imminent danger, but he was still incredibly confused by what she had been planning for.
Juliet smiled faintly as she slid into the building, clearly searching for Shawn.
“He’s asleep, I’ll wake him u-”
Gus’s words were cut off by Juliet putting her manicured hand over his mouth and smiling deviously.
“Perfect. Come on, let’s talk.”
Gus blinked, puzzled by Juliet’s ideas.
“So.. let me get this straight. You’ve come up with a plan,”
Gus held up the blank binder (for secrecy, obviously) Juliet had given him.
“...to make Shawn and Lassie, friends?”
Gus said the last word as if the thought was hurting him.
Juliet clearly brightened at his understanding of her scheme that she may have over-explained in a rush of unveiled excitement.
“Yes!” Juliet exclaimed.
They both nervously glanced over at Shawn’s sleeping form, simultaneously letting out relieved exhales when he didn’t stir. Juliet continued in a hushed voice:
“You’ve seen it, Gus! Lassiter getting his bike back from the impound, Shawn guiding him through solving a case after consoling a drunken Lassiter at a bar! They are so close!”
Gus considered the evidence closely, brows furrowing.
“Close to what?”
Juliet scoffed: “Friendship! Get this,”
She smiled as she leaned in closer, Gus following her lead.
“...I call it… Shassie.”
Gus almost laughed so loud Shawn woke up, but quickly stifled his amusement.
“Shassie?”
Gus asked incredulously.
Juliet rolled her eyes at his unwillingness to give in to her fool-proof plan.
“You’re best friends with Shawn Spencer, you know every good plan needs a good name.”
The shadow of Gus’ earlier smile never left, but instead brightened at the ridiculous situation he’s been put in.
“Alright. Exactly how many phases does… ‘Shassie’ have?”
Juliet smiled radiantly: finally.
She continued her explanation knowingly, making Gus ponder how long she’d been thinking about this predicament.
“Only five. But we’ll start slow! The first phase: texting.”
Gus snorted, haphazardly checking to make sure the ‘Sh’ in this equation was still oblivious.
“When have you ever seen Lassiter text anyone? Let alone him!”
Gus gestured to Shawn, a bowl of popcorn in his lap that may or may not have spilled practically all over him. Gus had just swept!
“I haven’t! But we, my friend, are going to change that.”
Juliet stood up from her spot in Gus’ chair, and stealthily retrieved Shawn’s phone from his sleeping body.
Gus’ amazement at her swift movements quickly dissipated as he realized what she was doing.
“No… no, no!”
Gus whisper-screamed.
Juliet looked up at him as she flipped the phone open, the soft blue light glowing against her features.
“Just trust me.”
And suddenly, Gus was speechless. Long enough for her to complete the first steps of her so-called brilliant plan.
She closed the phone after typing out a quick message with a hasty snap!
Juliet handed it back to Gus, smiling satisfactorily.
Gus hesitantly asked:
“Do I even wanna know what you said?”
Juliet’s smile just widened.
“You’ll find out soon enough. Have a good night, Gus.”
And with that, she hurriedly made her way to the door and smoothly closed it: leaving a very conflicted Gus standing in the dark, holding Shawn’s phone.
“Oh god.” He whispered, really to himself and the void of darkness around him. He was in for a very, very long ride.