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Even though she's not quite sure what happened on the crime scene to make Lassiter so goddamn pissed off and to make Spencer so goddamn happy, but she'd place bets on the two being related. Well, she'd bet if she were a betting woman, which she isn't (even though she won a hundred bucks off her husband for having their darling baby be a girl).
O'Hara must have her work cut out for her – keeping those two from murdering each other was hard work, even within police headquarters. Though murder is no joke, she knows which is why she never uses that metaphor outside her head. Still, poor O'Hara, she was even without the support of Spencer's friend Guster today.
Speaking of Guster, he took forever to come into the Department. Really, how long did he think Lassiter (and herself) could put up with the eccentric psychic? He rightfully sighs as he sees his friend flicking screwed up pieces of paper stolen from O'Hara's desk at Lassiter's neck and thanked God it wasn't spitballs. "Take him back to your agency," she, Karen Vicks, sighs at him, "This whole department, Lassiter included, has work to do, and neither I nor O'Hara has time to look after our little psychic."
"But mum," he strains. She smiles to herself, and pledges to never let her child be as childish as Shawn Spencer.
"Go," she snaps, "I've had enough of you."
"Do we get the Madison case at least, chief?"
She'd really wish that Lassiter would get that begging look off his face. As if he didn't already know her answer. She feels she ought to remind him to be a professional about such things as working with Shawn Spencer, but she doesn't because she knows not to the stoke the fire. "Yes, Spencer, you do. Go."
The look on Lassiter's face made her feel like she kicked a puppy – a cranky, suit-wearing puppy. A puppy that probably deserved it, nevertheless, though that reasoning probably won't fly well with the RSPCA.
"Score," Spencer and Guster said in unison, subtlety bumping their fists together.
"If you're psychic, you should already know that," Lassiter growls from his desk.
"I did, but asking is a formality. Makes sure we get paid, not compensated in magic beans. Though neither I, nor do I doubt Gus, would mind being paid in pineapples if we get a choice of which fruit and/or vegetable to get paid in."
"I prefer money, to be honest," Gus interjects.
"Bite your tongue."
"Children."
"Lassiter, don't you have work to do?" she groaned to a bitter Carlton Lassiter.
"Yeah, listen to mum, Lassie," Spencers smiles and then turns to Guster, "Told you I'm totally the favourite. So getting a pony—"
"You, Spencer, stop calling me mum, and leave."
Karen walks away, into her office and slams the door. Shawn turns to Gus and adds, "Does this mean I'm being disowned?"
Gus shrugs.
"Does this make me the favourite, now?" O'Hara pipes up, smiling.
Lassiter shrugs.
Guster and Spencer decide to go out for Pineapple splits (which, she thinks, sounds completely disgusting and a little bit impossible, though she is over-the-moon to be rid of them for the time being) and tells Lassiter and O'Hara to meet him and Guster at the crime scene in an hour.
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The next morning, as Lassiter walks into the Department, Shawn starts to sing that stupid love song from Titanic across the room at the top of his voice to him with a flower in his hand, and, while generally not enjoying disruptions in her offices, Karen Vicks smiles and laughs at the embarrassment of her Head Detective knowing that, hell, he probably deserved it.
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(The question on everyone's lips, the million dollar question and, quite possibly, the answer could leading to solving the 'Answer of Life' is,—)
"Why is Spencer singing?" Karen asks O'Hara, standing at the doorway of her office, though this statement didn't seem to properly illustrate what was happening in front of her, so she opted for a reword, "Why is he singing Celine Dion?"
Much better. She's always been a woman of detail.
"He found it on Carlton's iPod when we were on the Madison crime scene yesterday," she explains, flicking through a case file, nonchalant, as Karen Vicks watched the Head Detective and the department psychic, "I don't understand why Shawn was so surprised to see it on the 'Most Played' list. I love that song."
"Lassiter took his iPod to a crime scene?" Karen asks, slightly in disbelief and O'Hara nods, "It's his own fault then."
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(One of the many things O'Hara keeps to herself that evening — along with the fact the chief told her to pick up some of those Pineapple Splits Gus and Shawn were talking about, and that Shawn had spent an entire morning on his computer finding the lyrics to that song because, God knows, he hated Titanic — is that, at the beginning of the second verse, she swore she saw Lassiter half-way smile and a quarter-way laugh as he pounds his head into his desk.)
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NOTES:
1. – Three guesses where my Psych pairing loyalties lies. Written in third person, but Karen Vicks prospective, thus why Shawn, Gus and Carlton are called "Spencer, Guster and Lassiter," and Karen is simply "Karen," or "She". The beginning is a little... awkward. Ignore that. I rewrote it like, three times and never got any better.
2. – Characterization problems: I think I made Shawn a little too childish. I blame just watching his throw a hissy fit like a little girl clouding my judgment. I am up to 206, at the present time.
3. – Also, I fail at anything humorous. This is about at funny as I'm going to try to be, and it doesn't really count as funny, per say. Damn.
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