Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I do not own any of the characters of Psych and am not affiliated with the show or USA Network.  The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

SPOILER ALERT:  Episodes "Tuesday The 17th" and major spoilers for the ending of "An Evening With Mr. Yang".  

WARNING: This story deals with some relatively mature subject matter but it's not graphic in nature.  No graphic descriptions are given.  Also there's a few cuss words in here, added for entertainment purposes only.

As promised, things get a little more intense in this chapter.  And try not to hate Juliet too much.  Remember, she's only human, after all.  We've all made stupid mistakes in life and said things wish we could take back.  

Read on.




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Juliet lifted her black suit jacket from the ironing board and inspected her handiwork.  The garment looked perfectly pressed and ready to wear.  She placed the jacket on a hanger and grabbed a lint roller for a quick clean-up of the matching black skirt she wore.  A red silk blouse completed the ensemble.  As she looked herself over in the mirror she heard a knock at the front door of her apartment.  

'Who in the hell could that be?' she thought as she glanced at her watch.  Juliet had forty-five minutes left before she had to be at the restaurant, and she wanted to leave with plenty of time to spare in case of traffic.  She grabbed a pair of black high-heel shoes by the straps and padded over to the door in her stocking-clad feet.  Juliet looked through the peephole to see who the visitor was.  

'Oh no...not now!' she thought to herself.  With an exasperated sigh, she opened the door to see her partner Carlton Lassiter standing in the hallway.  He was holding a piece of paper in his right hand.  "What do you want, Carlton?" she asked, knowing she didn't really want to hear the answer.  The tone of her voice clearly broadcast she had little patience for the Head Detective at the moment.

Lassiter stood in the doorway, his determined expression speaking volumes about the purpose for his visit.  "I have new information about that 'Rob' character."

Juliet rolled her eyes and sighed in frustration.  "What, did he run over a puppy on his way out of the parking lot yesterday or something?"

Lassiter pondered the scenario for a moment.  "If he did, would it get you to cancel your dinner date?" he asked hopefully.

"Carlton..." Juliet fixed him with an angry glare.  

"Oh all right, fine.  I went to the Morrison office building today after work.  I just wanted to know a little more about 'Rob' before you started dating the little creep."  

Juliet hated the way Lassiter said 'Rob'.  He always managed to load the word with so much disdain.  Juliet shook her head and resigned herself to hearing Lassiter's latest rant against her date for the night.  "Well?  What did you find?"

"He doesn't work there."

Juliet's brow furrowed in confusion.  "What?"

"He doesn't work there.  I don't know what he told you about his job, but the only Robert Smith working in the Morrison building is a large African-American gentleman that bears no resemblance to the man we met yesterday."  Lassiter handed her the paper containing the employee profile of the real Robert Smith.  "He lied to you, O'Hara.  See for yourself."  

She took the profile from Lassiter and stared down at the unfamiliar face in the picture with mild concern.  Her brow furrowed in thought as she dropped her shoes to the floor and slipped her feet into them.  "Thank you, Carlton.  I'll definitely ask him about this tonight."  She returned the paper to him and bent down to buckle the straps on her shoes.  

A look of pure astonishment crossed Lassiter's face.  "You'll what?!?" he asked, shocked at her apparent unwillingness to share his repugnance for her date.  "He lied to you about his job, O'Hara!  Doesn't that say something about his character?"

Juliet stood up and said with a sigh, "Carlton, I didn't tell the whole truth about my job, either.  Does that mean I'm a bad person?  Besides," she paused as she looked down to check her shoes, "maybe he has a reason like I did."  Juliet saw the stunned look on the Detective's face.  He stood in her doorway looking as if he'd just been smacked between the eyes with a baseball bat.  Juliet tried to reassure him that she hadn't dropped several IQ points since the last time he saw her.  "Carlton, it's just one dinner.  We'll be in a public place with lots of people around, I made sure of that.  And if I don't like what he says when I ask him about his job then that's the last time I'll ever see him."  She sighed and added, "You know I can take care of myself.  I'm a big girl, Carlton."  

True, Juliet O'Hara could do just that.  She was plenty tough and he welcomed having her by his side on the street during a fight.  He'd only seen her cry once before the night Mr. Yang was caught, and that was after another officer punched her the face during defensive tactics training.  Some big male cop deliberately took a cheap shot at her because he was pissed he "got beat by a girl."  The only reason she shed tears on that occasion was because she received a hard sucker punch to the nose and her eyes were watering involuntarily.  He remembered how proud he was when she immediately got back up and decked her opponent with a wicked brachial stun.  But right now Lassiter couldn't believe what he was hearing.  Was she insane?  She was still going to dinner with this jerk!  Couldn't she see the guy was a creep?  What the hell was wrong with her?  

Juliet jogged over to her bedroom to retrieve a necklace from a lacquered jewelry box on top of her bureau as Lassiter stepped into the entryway of her apartment.  He stood there watching her walk back and forth while putting the finishing touches on her appearance.  He was desperately trying to think of something to say that would make her see reason.  Something that would pull her head out of her ass.  Something that would prevent her from making what he could clearly see was a colossal mistake.  

Then Lassiter remembered the image of Juliet's tear streaked face just one week ago.  'She's not her usual self right now,' he thought to himself.  'She's vulnerable.  Otherwise she'd never make this obvious mistake.  Be patient and convince her to see the truth.'  Lassiter clenched his hands, closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and tried one last time.  "O'Hara, listen to me," he said.  The serious tone in his voice and intensity in his eyes stopped her in her tracks.  She stood in front of him in the living room as she donned a pair of matching earrings.  "I know you've been looking forward to this, and I know you like this 'Rob' guy, but there's something...wrong about him.  Something very wrong.  I can see it, I know it, I feel it in my gut."

"What makes you think that, Carlton?"  A look of concern crossed her face.  As much as she hated to admit it, Lassiter's instincts about people were rarely wrong.  

To Lassiter's relief, O'Hara finally appeared to be willing to listen to him.  He swallowed hard as he looked down at the floor, then set his jaw and raised his eyes to meet hers.  "Past experience.  I've seen his type before.  Let's just say I doubt his motives."  He paused.  "Please don't do this."  

Juliet raised her eyebrows in mild shock.  Lassiter never used the word 'please' unless he felt he had no other choice.  She also found it mildly disturbing that he had decided not to elaborate any further about the 'past experience' he mentioned.  That usually meant the experience was not a good one.  Juliet sighed in confusion and ran her hand over her long, straight hair.  She closed her eyes, clearly frustrated.  "Carlton, I just...I don't know what to say..."  

'I'm finally getting through to her,' he thought.  'She's thinking about calling it off.'  He decided it was time she heard the truth about the reasons for her behavior.  'Be honest and don't hold back.  She's tough, she can handle it.'  

"Look, I know that crap with Spencer really hurt.  Believe me, I know, I've been there.  But rebounding by going out with the first guy that comes along isn't going to make you feel any better.  You're so desperate to put that bad experience behind you that you're doing something stupid out of pure stubbornness.  Admit it, you're screwed up, you're off your game.  Otherwise there's no way your cop instincts would let you go through with this.  Wake up, O'Hara, it's no coincidence that this guy looks like the exact opposite of Shawn Spencer in every way.  It's only been one week, it's too soon.  You're not over it yet.  You're not over him."  

Juliet stared at him, her mouth open in surprise.  She had been listening to him and accepting what he said quite well until he spoke those last four words.  "You're not over him."  As soon as he said them, O'Hara clinched her jaw and fixed Lassiter with an angry glare as color flushed her cheeks.

'Uh oh.'  Lassiter knew that look, realizing instantly that he'd gone just a little too far with that last sentence by telling her the one bit of truth she really didn't want to hear.  He'd seen 'the look' plenty of times on his ex-wife's face during one of her many heated rants.  It meant she was really pissed.  It meant that, yet again, he had screwed up and managed to say the wrong thing at exactly the wrong time.  'I guess she wasn't ready after all.'  He braced himself for the ass-chewing of the century.  He knew this was going to be bad.

"Carlton Lassiter, you are such an ASSHOLE!"  O'Hara's hands clenched into fists as her words rang throughout the room.  "From the moment you found out about Robert your behavior has been childish and inexcusable.  You never gave him a chance, you just assumed he was a jerk right away!  You only saw what you wanted to see about him!"

Lassiter stood his ground and listened in silence.  He was wise enough to realize that the anger O'Hara currently directed at him was actually a release of the pent-up rage she felt against Spencer.  The brat constantly flirted with her, and when she finally falls for him the guy flat out turns her down, leaving Juliet angry, hurt, and confused.  The so-called psychic was the one who should be receiving the barbs O'Hara was currently throwing his way.  But unfortunately for Lassiter, he was the only one in the line of fire at the moment.  He decided that if it helped his partner get back to her old self, then he would do his duty and take one for the team.  She was going to vent her anger at some poor bastard eventually, so he might as well be him.  'Just shut up and take it,' he thought.  'It will be over soon enough.'  Too bad it wasn't that annoying little shit Spencer catching hell.  How he would love to see O'Hara tear him a new one.   

"Oh, you're damn right I'm trying to put last week behind me, I'm trying as hard as I can to forget one of the most embarrassing nights of my life," she lamented. "But at least I'm trying!  I'm trying to be happy!  I want to be happy!  Unlike a certain Head Detective!"  

Ok, that was a new one.  At least O'Hara was being original with her insults.  "And just what the hell is that supposed to mean?" he asked calmly.

Lassiter's apparent lack of emotion in the face of her anger antagonized her even more.  O'Hara damn well wanted him to know how she felt, and his standing there as passionate as a dead tree certainly wasn't helping.  "I'm not like you, Carlton.  I can't stand being unhappy.  You are pissed off all the damn time!  As a matter of fact, I think you actually like being unhappy at this point in your life!  Otherwise, you'd actually make an effort to pull that stick out of your ass!"

Wow.  Lassiter was mildly shocked.  Did O'Hara really think of him like that, or was it merely her emotions talking?  He expected the ass-chewing to be bad, but he never thought it would actually hurt.  "Ok, O'Hara.  That's enough.  You've had your fun," he tried to dismiss her comments.

But O'Hara wasn't finished yet.  'FUN?' she thought incredulously.  She was allowing her pent-up emotions of the last week to boil over whether Lassiter liked it or not.  "And you know what?  I think you're jealous that I'm going out tonight.  You're jealous that I'm trying not to be a miserable jerk like you are!"

"O'Hara, get a grip now..."

"You know what they say, 'misery loves company'.  Maybe you just want to kill my date with Robert so you won't feel so alone..."  

"O'Hara!"

"You may be a great success at your job, but you're one hell of a failure in your personal life!  That's right, Carlton Lassiter, you are a failure at being a happy person because, unlike me, you quit trying a long time ago!  And now you're like an anchor trying to drag others down along with you!"

"O'HARA!"

"Jesus Christ no wonder your wife left yo-" her eyes flew open in surprise and her hands clamped over her mouth as she finally realized what she was saying.  As angry as she was at the world, as much as she wanted someone else to feel her current pain, she had never meant to be downright cruel.  She never meant to go that far...

She watched in mortified silence as a strange mixture of emotions crossed Carlton Lassiter's face.  And for a brief moment, Juliet saw the one emotion he had never allowed her to see before.  Pure, raw pain.  His eyebrows came together slightly as he stared at her, the hurt he was experiencing clear and unmistakable in his deep blue eyes.  Then, just as quickly as it had appeared, the pain was replaced by a mask of furious anger as he lowered his eyebrows and clamped his jaw shut.  He fixed Juliet with a withering glare as his steely blue eyes turned ice cold.  

"Oh, Carlton, I am so SORRY...I didn't mean to-"

Lassiter spun on his heels without acknowledging her attempted apology and stormed out the front door at a brisk walk.  Juliet ran to the doorway and called after him.  "Carlton, I'm sorry!  Please don't..."  Her heart sank when Lassiter didn't bother looking back.  Juliet closed her eyes and rested her head on the door frame.  "I didn't mean it, Carlton," she said out loud to herself.  "You're right, I'm not myself.  I just hope you can forgive me."  A feeling of profound regret settled in her chest.  The man was only trying to help, after all.  "Holy crap, I am such an ungrateful ass..."

Lassiter stalked to his car as fast as his long strides would allow.  He felt as if he'd been stabbed in the chest with a knife.  And he actually had been stabbed on at least one previous occasion, so he knew from personal experience that what he currently felt was quite similar.  But the worst part was definitely the betrayal.  He expected those types of personal insults from anyone else but his partner.  His partner, for chrissakes!  Partners are supposed to protect each other no matter what.

O'Hara knew damn well that he'd received those divorce papers from his wi...correction, ex-wife, only two short weeks ago.  Yet O'Hara had used that knowledge as verbal ammunition against him knowing it would cut to the bone.  All he had tried to do was help her, and how had she repaid him for his efforts?  By using personal information against him in an effort to cause maximum damage.  Even after experiencing countless fights with his now ex-wife, after years of separation and the resulting heated arguments as Carlton tried to save his marriage, he never thought words alone could hurt this much.  Until now, that is.  

Lassiter reached his car, dropped into the driver's seat, and slammed the door shut.  'Fuck her,' he thought coldly as he threw the car into drive and angrily sped out of the parking lot.  'I did my goddamn job.  Whatever happens tonight, she damn well deserves it.'




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Juliet sat at the candlelit table, quietly staring down at her plate while resting her chin on her hand.  She absentmindedly poked at a piece of sauce-covered chicken with her fork.  

"Um, is something wrong with the food?"  

Juliet looked up at her date.  Robert's face brightened with his trademark smile as their eyes made contact.  "Oh, no, it's not the food.  This chicken marsala is great."  She looked around the upscale Italian restaurant, noting the pleasing decor.  She had to admit that Robert picked a great place to eat.  He had even tipped the hostess an extra forty bucks to seat them in a quiet little alcove at the back of the room away from prying eyes.  The setting was actually quite romantic.  It should be the perfect date, but she was obviously not enjoying herself.

Robert watched Juliet as she went back to pushing her food around her plate, apparently not the least bit interested in eating it.  She looked as if she bore the weight of the world on her shoulders.  He fixed her with a knowing look.  "Okay, what's wrong?"  

"Hmm?  What?"  Juliet looked as if she had snapped out of a trance.

"What's wrong, Juliet?  You've only eaten two bites of your food, and you seem, well...distracted.  Is...are you okay?"  He paused in thought, then added, "Is it something I did?"

"Oh, no, Robert!  No, it's not you!  I mean, this place is great!  I really like it!  The food is good, the house wine is fantastic..."  She raised her glass and took another sip of the dark red liquid as if to prove her point.  

"Then what is it?" he asked with mild concern.

"It's just..." she looked at Robert, then sighed.  "I had this big fight with a good friend tonight, and I just can't get it out of my head right now.  I said some things I shouldn't have, and I just feel really bad."  

Robert's brows creased with worry.  "How bad was it?"

"The argument or what I said?"

"Both."

"Bad.  I mean, I just feel awful about it..."  

"Have you tried to apologize?" he asked.  

"Yeah.  Wouldn't accept it.  I've tried calling several times, but my friend won't answer the phone."  She stared down at her hands with a remorseful look on her face.

"Oh, I see."  Robert genuinely seemed concerned.  "Well, just give it a few days to let your friend calm down, then you can try again.  If she's as good a friend as you say, they'll accept your apology later."  He produced yet another willing smile and reached across the table to gently clasp her hand.  "Just give it a little time.  You'll see, it will be okay."

Juliet looked into his soft brown eyes and smiled warmly.  "Thank you, Robert.  That really does help."  Robert's attempts to cheer her up were actually working, and she was starting to feel a little better.  It was nice to see that he really did care, that he was the sensitive type of man she liked.  So what if he looked like the exact opposite of Shawn Spencer.  Wasn't that what she was looking for, after all?  Maybe Carlton's instincts about 'Rob' were totally wrong?

Carlton's instincts.  She thought about what Lassiter had said in her apartment right before her vicious rant sent him storming out the door.  'There's something...wrong about him.  Something very wrong.  I can see it, I know it, I feel it in my gut.'  Juliet remembered her promise and decided to broach the subject of Robert's employment.

"Um, Robert, I want to ask you something.  And please do me a favor, I just want you to be honest."

"No, that skirt does not make you look fat.  The exact opposite, I'd say..." he answered with a grin.  "And you don't have spinach in your teeth, either."

Juliet laughed.  He was funny, too.  So far she really liked her date.  "No, no, nothing like that.  But I wanted to ask you..."  Juliet decided to just put the subject out there.  "I know you don't work at the Morrison building.  A concerned friend of mine found out and told me."  She stared directly into his eyes.  "Why did you tell me that you worked there?"

Robert sighed and looked down at the table.  "Okay, I owe you the truth.  I'm sorry, but it's not a comfortable subject for me."  He adjusted himself in his chair and returned Juliet's gaze.  "A few years ago I started dating this woman from one of those online dating web sites, and it turned out that she was...you know, a little bit...off."

Juliet's brow furrowed.  "Off?  You mean crazy."

"Yes!" he hissed.  "She told me she wanted to marry me after only two dates!  So I freaked out and tried to break it off, and that's when she started stalking me.  She kept showing up at my house, called all the time, I mean..."  Robert looked away and dropped his hand into his lap in frustration.  "One day she showed up at my job and caused this huge scene right in the middle of the office.  I was in a meeting with my boss and the company's board of directors, and she just barged right in and...well...I got fired over the incident.  Took me almost six months to find an equivalent job."  He looked at Juliet with sincerity.  "I'm sorry I didn't tell you the truth, Juliet.  No offense, but even though I really like you and want to go out with you, I don't know you very well yet.  I don't want the same thing to happen to me again.  I just wanted to get to know you better before giving out my personal information, that's all."

Juliet looked into Robert's eyes, searching for any hints of deception.  She found none.    His explanation seemed perfectly reasonable, too.  After all, didn't she want to wait until she knew him better to tell him she was a cop?  She felt relieved that their motives were apparently quite similar.  Juliet smiled sweetly and took his hand in hers.  "It's okay, Robert.  I understand.  I want to get to know you better, too."  

Robert returned her smile and interlaced his fingers with hers.  "So...you ready to eat now, or what?"

The tension was broken between them, and their evening finally began in earnest.  The conversation flowed easily and they were starting to really enjoy each other's company.  To her pleasant surprise, Juliet found that Robert was as funny and smart as he was handsome.  'Looks like Carlton was wrong this time,' she thought to herself.  'I think he really is a nice guy.'  She was even thinking of several ways she could apologize to Carlton.  Robert was right, she would give him a little time to cool off, then do something really special for him to show just how sorry she was.  Maybe she'd gift him with chocolate ice cream (NOT double chocolate fudge brownie!) and a Blu-ray disc of that God-awful Sylvester Stallone action movie Cobra he liked so much for starters.   

Juliet was almost finished with her chicken marsala and had just received an iced tea to go with her second glass of red wine.  Two glasses of wine slowly consumed with dinner and dessert was her limit, and even though she liked Robert a lot, she was going to keep her promise to Lassiter and drive herself home.  

Robert asked her how her food tasted.  "It's fantastic, thank you!"  she beamed.

"I'll bet it's not nearly as good as my shrimp alfredo.  Here, try one!"  Robert picked up a shrimp with his unused salad fork, dipped it in the rich cream sauce, and playfully held the fork up to Juliet's mouth.  As she leaned over to eat the morsel, the shrimp fell off of his fork and landed in her lap with a small 'splat'.  "Oh damn!  I'm sorry!"  Robert looked truly mortified, but couldn't quite suppress a small laugh.  

"Oh, it's okay, don't worry about it," Juliet replied casually, retrieving the shrimp in a napkin and looking at the spot of off-white sauce on her jet black skirt.  She accepted another napkin from Robert and dabbed at the excess moisture.  "This should come out with a little bit of water.  Back in a minute."  She rose from her chair to start to walk towards the restrooms.  

"How about I buy you some dessert to make up for it, then?"  Robert asked apologetically.  "What would you like?  I know their strawberry cheesecake is absolutely fantastic."

Juliet smiled.  "Sounds good!  I'll be back," she replied over her shoulder as she exited their secluded little alcove at the back of the dining room.  

Robert watched Juliet as she walked across the dimly-lit dining room.  'They always fall for the shrimp trick,' he mused to himself.  As soon as she disappeared into the hallway leading to the restrooms, he began looking around to make sure nobody could see him.  Having confirmed his privacy, Robert produced a tiny glass vial and poured a small amount of a white powdery substance into Juliet's wine glass.  He paused for a second, then poured some more into her iced tea as well.  'This way I'll get her no matter which one she drinks.'

He put the vial back into his pocket and stirred both drinks with his spoon until the powder dissolved completely.  He carefully examined the glasses to make sure the substance was undetectable to the eye, then wiped of the spoon with his napkin, and waved the waiter over to his table.  "The lady didn't look like she was feeling too well, so I think we might have to go soon.  I'll just pay the bill now in case we have to leave in a hurry."  He handed the waiter a large amount of cash, then added with a wink, "Keep the change, too.  The service was excellent tonight."  The waiter thanked him graciously and left Robert alone to his thoughts.  'Wow, it's been a while since I had to work so hard to catch one.  Thought she busted there me for a minute with the work thing.'  He frowned for a moment.  'Bet she has a friend that's a cop or PI or something.  I'll have to be more careful next time.'

A few minutes later, Robert watched Juliet as she made her way back to their secluded table.  She motioned to her skirt and showed him that the spot was completely gone.  "See?" she said with a bright smile, "I told you it would come right out.  So how do I look?"  

Robert smiled up at her with his soft brown eyes.  "Beautiful."  He picked up his wine glass as she sat down across from him.  "I can hardly wait for dessert."

Juliet picked up her own glass of wine and raised it in a toast.  "To dessert, then!"  she said with a sweet smile.  They touched their glasses together with a soft 'plink', then she began drinking the tainted liquid.




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 Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I do not own any of the characters of Psych and am not affiliated with the show or USA Network.  The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.  The characters Bugs Bunny and Playboy the Penguin are the sole property of Warner Brothers.  "How the Grinch Stole Christmas" is owned by Dr. Seuss.

SPOILER ALERT:  Episodes "Tuesday The 17th" and major spoilers for the ending of "An Evening With Mr. Yang".  

WARNING: This story deals with some relatively mature subject matter but it's not graphic in nature.  No graphic descriptions are given.  Also there's several cuss words in here, added for "flair."

This is the chapter where the sensitive subject matter comes into play.  Like I said, no graphic descriptions given.  Juliet gets whumped and Lassiter, well, he just friggin' ROCKS.  Awesome Lassie/Jules (strong friendship only) moments ahead.  Read on.

Okay everybody, here we go...




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Juliet had finished her second glass of wine fairly quickly, and now she was occupying herself by sipping her iced tea while munching on a breadstick.  She was glad she stuck to her two glass limit.  That wine must have been pretty strong because it seemed to be affecting her a bit more than usual.  No matter, they had cheesecake on the way.  Juliet decided to just sit and talk to Robert for a while as they waited for dessert to arrive.  She was thoroughly enjoying his company and really didn't want the date to end too soon.  So Juliet anticipated staying at the restaurant for another hour or so, getting to know Robert some more, lightly snacking on food until the alcohol started working its way out of her system.  If her head hadn't cleared up by then she would just call a cab to take her home.

"So what's your favorite movie, Robert?"  

"Hmm, I don't know," he replied.  "There are so many great films out there.  How about...you pick a genre, and I'll tell you which movie I think is best from that category."

"Genre?  Okay, how about...horror!"

"Modern or classic?"

"Modern."  Juliet was beginning to feel slightly buzzed from the alcohol.

"That's easy," Robert said with his trademark smile.  "The Fly with Jeff Goldblum."

"Okay, that's a good one, but I have to go with John Carpenter's version of The Thing."

"Oh, I forgot about that one!  The ending is so ambiguous!"

"Okay, what about classic horror?"

Robert raised an eyebrow.  "The original version of The Fly, of course."

Juliet giggled a little louder than she had intended to.  "Oh that's a very dipo...diplo...dipsomatic answer."  What?  Juliet was confused.  Did she just mispronounce the word 'diplomatic'?  That must have been some really strong wine.  She was feeling a little drunk.  She drank some more tea, hoping to clear her head a little.  For some reason it didn't seem to be helping at all.

"So what other horror movies do you like, Juliet?" Robert asked as he watched her from across the table.

"Let's see...that one in the big hotel.  You know...with all the snow?  And the crazy guy?  What was the name of that movie..." her voice trailed off.  What was wrong with her?  Why couldn't she think of the name of one of her favorite movies?  Or the actor who played the bad guy, for that matter?  It was as if she was starting to have trouble remembering things.

Juliet looked at Robert.  He was smiling while watching her intently as he casually sipped a glass of water.  She had to blink a few times to keep him in focus.  Wait, her vision was blurring.  And now she was seeing double.  Was Robert starting to lean to his right?  Something was terribly wrong.  She knew two glasses of even the strongest wine wouldn't affect her this badly.  It had to be something else.  Something besides alcohol.  Something bad.  She realized that she was swaying to the side, and she had to grab onto the table's edge to keep herself from falling out of her chair.    

Robert continued to watch her calmly from across the table.  He wasn't smiling anymore.

And that's when it hit her.  A terrible realization cut through the fog that was rapidly surrounding Juliet's brain.  Dropping the shrimp...she went to go clean her skirt, leaving her drinks unprotected...'there's something...wrong about him.  Something very wrong.  I can see it, I know it, I feel it in my gut.'

Juliet looked at Robert with a mix of confusion, astonishment, and fear.  "Robert.  You...you put ssometthing...in my drink...didnn you?"  Her words were starting to slur as the room began to spin.  

Robert sat in silence watching the drug take effect.  He casually checked the time on his watch.

Juliet knew she was in trouble.  She was quickly losing her ability to think, losing her motor skills.  Losing her ability to defend herself.  She fumbled around for her cell phone and barely managed to pull it from her belt without dropping it.  Somewhere in the back of her sluggish mind she knew she needed to call someone.  

She needed to call for help.  

She needed her partner.

Robert reached across the table and easily plucked the phone from her weakening hands before she could make the call.  "Oh I can't have you doing that, now."  He smiled, showing his perfect white teeth.  "That would spoil the rest of my plans for the evening."  He clipped her cell phone to the front of his belt, then leaned over the table and looked deep into her eyes.  "Hmm, that went pretty quick.  I think you got a bigger dose than usual, but that's fine," he smirked.  "I think you're ready to go now."

Was she walking through the restaurant?  She didn't even remember standing up.  Robert had her right arm slung over his shoulder and his left arm around her waist, escorting her through the dining room full of people.  "I know it's our anniversary, honey, but you didn't have to drink that much..."  He was making comments about her having too much to drink.  People were looking at her and shaking their heads.  They all thought she was just another drunk.

'Help me!' Juliet tried to yell at them, but she couldn't properly form the words.  The people in the room didn't appear to hear her.  Why couldn't they understand what she was trying to say?  Juliet continued attempting to plead for help as Robert walked her closer to the door.  She tried to resist, to push him away, but her strength was gone.  She was absolutely helpless.  The only thing holding her up was Robert, and now he had her out in the parking lot.

Fear raced through her clouded brain when she realized they were no longer in public view.  She was really in trouble now.  Juliet's legs were unable to support her weight  anymore, so Robert was basically carrying her, dragging her feet along the ground.  His black BMW was parked under a streetlight in an empty section near the back of the parking lot behind the restaurant.  Juliet felt herself being lowered into the passenger seat of a car.  She opened her eyes - when had she closed them? - fought to focus her gaze, and caught sight of something shiny in front of her.

The car keys were in the vehicle's ignition.  'Keys...' she thought, 'car keys...don't let him take you away...get the keys...'  Juliet summoned the last bit of strength she possessed, leaned over the passenger seat, and began trying to reach the keys the ignition.  'Fight, O'Hara!  You have to fight!' she thought.  'He can't drive you anywhere if he doesn't have the keys!'  The effort to remain focused was exhausting.  'Bad things happen when they get you alone...can't let him take you away...'  She had to use all of her remaining will power just to get her arm to reach across the seat.  It was as if her body couldn't obey the commands from her brain, like her limbs were numb.  With supreme effort, Juliet managed to hook a finger through the key ring and yank the keys out of the ignition.  She clutched the keys to her chest, determined to use what little strength she had left to hang on to them at all costs.  

Robert snuffed out the cigarette he was smoking and came back around to the open passenger side of his car.  He saw Juliet slumped over the center console with her eyes closed clutching the keys in her hand.  Robert burst out laughing.  "Wow!  You really are a fighter, aren't you?  Even with that high a dose in your system you're still trying.  Impressive."  

Robert leaned into the car and grabbed her right arm to pull her back into a sitting position.  Juliet felt the tug on her arm and mumbled incoherently in protest.  Robert easily took the keys from her limp fingers and smiled.  He knelt down in front of her, holding her chin in his left hand.  "Bad girl, Juliet.  Trying to take my keys like that?"  He shook her head gently.  "Hey, wake up," he said in a firm tone.  Receiving no response, Robert slapped her hard across the face with his right hand.  

Juliet's eyelids fluttered open and she stared up at Robert with large, unfocused eyes.  "I'm going to enjoy your company tonight, Juliet.  You really are beautiful."  His gaze moved down to stare at her lips, and Robert leaned forward to press his mouth against hers in an unwelcome kiss.  She tried turning her head away but Robert's hand held her chin firmly in place.  
 
"Mmmf...nnoooh..."

Robert's tongue parted her lips as he deepened the kiss.  Juliet bit down as hard as she could.

"AAAHH!"  Robert pushed away from her and stood up, holding a hand to his mouth.  He checked his fingers and saw blood.  "Damn it!"  

Robert heard the scraping sound of shoes skidding on pavement behind him, then felt someone tap his right shoulder.  He turned around, ready to give whoever had interrupted him a stern warning to mind their own damn business.  "Who the hell do you-"

CRACK!

Robert hit the ground on his back with a hot pain in his jaw and stars dancing before his eyes.  He shook his head to clear it, wondering where in the world the Mack truck that just hit him had come from.

"GET YOUR DAMN HANDS OFF HER!"

Robert looked up to see Carlton Lassiter standing between him and Juliet O'Hara.  He loomed over Robert menacingly, his right hand still clenched in a fist after belting the smaller man in the face.  And holy crap he looked really mad...

Robert crawled backwards and started to stand up.  He tasted the blood running out of his mouth as he realized several of his perfect teeth weren't so perfect anymore.  "Hey man, I'm sorry.  I didn't mean to make you mad, or anything."  He backpedaled as Lassiter stalked towards him, absolutely radiating anger.  "Hey, she just drank a little too much and I'm trying to take her home!  That's all, I swear!"  

"Peddle that bullshit somewhere else you fucking punk.  I know damn well you drugged her."  Lassiter swept back the corners of his suit jacket, exposing both his badge and his gun.  "What the hell did you give her?  Rohypnol or GHB?"

'Oh shit...'  Robert remembered just how strong this guy was, and he had absolutely no desire to get in a physical confrontation with him.  Even worse, he was a cop.  A damn big, pissed-off cop.  He stood up and raised his hands in surrender.  "Uh, just rohypnol,  nothing dangerous!  And I'm sorry, sir!  I really am," he whined.  "Please don't hurt me."

Lassiter glared at him furiously.  'If you kill him, you'll lose your badge, and Juliet will be really pissed at you,' he thought to himself.  'You must have proof a drug was used.  Test her blood and get the arrest warrant.  You have plenty of evidence against him.'  It took every ounce of restraint he possessed to stop himself from transforming the male cowering before him into a wet stain on the pavement.  'Do your job, Detective.  This little bastard isn't worth your career.'  As much as he wanted to rip this kid apart right here and now, knowing full well he could do it with ease, Lassiter reluctantly decided on a different course of action.  "Give me your wallet."

"What?"

"Give me your wallet.  Now."

"Okay, Okay!  Here's my wallet!"  Robert fumbled in his back pants pocket and practically threw his billfold at the Detective.

Lassiter opened it up and took out his driver's license.  "John Peterson.  Birthday January 28, 1982.  Address 1595 Old Orchard Lane."  Lassiter produced a notepad, wrote down the information from the license, and tossed the wallet back to 'Robert'.  He also wrote down the car's license plate number.  "So that's your real name.  John Peterson."

'Robert' nodded silently.  

"You play a good game, 'Rob'.  You managed to hustle a very smart woman.  But there's always someone out there that's better than you.  And tonight that someone is me."  Lassiter stepped closer and glared down at the smaller male.  He gathered up a wad of 'Robert's' shirt in his fist and pulled him up onto his toes.  "Get her out of your car," he growled, and dropped him back to the ground.  

'Robert'...or John...quickly walked over to his car, grabbed Juliet by her right wrist, and pulled her out of the passenger seat, letting her limp body spill out onto the ground.  "She's all yours, man," he said casually as he shut the passenger door.

Lassiter bristled at the callous treatment of his helpless partner, feeling the slight immediately.  It was almost enough to make him think losing his badge was worth it after all.  'Oh, that little bastard...'  Lassiter strode forward and slapped one large hand on the back of 'Robert's' neck, clamping down hard while escorting him to the driver's door.  He reached down with his free hand and retrieved O'Hara's cell phone from 'Robert's' belt as he walked him around the car.  'Robert' looked up at him with slightly panicked eyes.  

"You know what, 'Rob?'" Lassiter said through a forced smile.  "You really should get that fixed."  

"Get what fixed?" 'Robert' asked nervously.

"That loose running board on the side of your car.  You might just accidentally slip when getting in and-"  

BANG!  Lasiter bounced 'Robert's' head off of the roof of the car hard enough to make the younger man's eyes cross.  

"-oops!  Hit your head," he finished through clenched teeth.  Lassiter grinned with satisfaction at the small dent left in the metal by 'Robert's' forehead.  "Awww, did that hurt?  You really should be more careful..."  Lassiter shoved him into the car and leaned inside the open door.  "Get the hell out of here and don't ever come near her again," he snarled menacingly.  "Don't even think about it.  Because next time, I won't be so nice.  You understand me, you little piece of shit?  EVER!"  Lassiter took a step back, squared himself, and slammed the door shut hard enough to shatter the driver's side window.  'Robert' floored the accelerator and sped off with a look of pure terror on his face.

As soon as 'Robert' was gone Lassiter rushed to his fallen partner's side.  The Detective knew rohypnol was a powerful sedative that depressed the central nervous system.  It also had the nasty side effects of disorientation, loss of motor function, difficulty speaking, and memory loss, all of which were enhanced when combined with alcohol.  He'd seen the effects of rohypnol intoxication before, and it was an ugly thing to witness someone recovering from its influence.  And now he was going to have to watch O'Hara endure the experience firsthand.  

Lassiter immediately checked her pulse and confirmed that she was breathing normally.  Then he carefully pulled Juliet up into a sitting position and supported her with an arm behind her shoulders as he tried to bring her around.  "O'Hara, can you hear me?"  He gently patted her face with his free hand.  "Come on, partner.  Wake up."  The only response he received was her head rolling back against his arm.  Juliet was completely unconscious.  The drug had already been absorbed into her bloodstream and she was under its full effect.  To his dismay, the Detective knew the only remedy for Juliet's condition now was a combination of time and rest.  

Lassiter tightened his grip around her shoulders and slipped his other arm underneath her knees.  Making sure he held her securely, he carefully lifted Juliet up off the pavement and began carrying her towards his car.  





***********************************************************





Fear.  It was the first thing Juliet felt as she began the gradual return to cognizance.  'I'm in danger,' she slowly thought to herself, replaying the very last thought she had before losing consciousness.  Her last memory before passing out was the horrible feeling of Robert kissing her, and the terrible realization that she was absolutely powerless to stop him.  

'Oh God, is he still here?' Juliet thought.  'Get away from him...have to fight...'  She tried to raise her hands to her face as if to push her attacker away.  Mild pressure encircled her wrists as her hands were pushed back down.  

'No, no, no...he's here!  He's still got me!'
 
"...uhh...no..."

She thought she could hear someone speaking to her, but the voice sounded distant, far away.  She couldn't understand what it was saying.  

"...no...roberrrt...nooo..."  Juliet desperately tried to struggle against whatever, or whoever, held her wrists in place.  She couldn't move her arms, something was covering her, and...did her forehead feel cold?  She tried to focus through the panicked confusion, and heard the voice again.

"...'s oka...just re...over now..."

She still couldn't make out everything the voice was saying, but it sounded closer, clearer now.  It also sounded vaguely familiar.  Remotely...comforting, somehow.  Juliet tried to concentrate on listening through the heavy drug-induced haze.

"O'Hara.  Can you hear me?"

Juliet finally recognized who was speaking to her.  She tried to open her eyes but her body failed to respond.  She tried again without success.  She heard dripping water, then felt something wet and very cold pressed against the back of her neck.  She inhaled sharply as the brisk sensation helped shock her clouded mind back to semi-functional awareness.

"Come on, O'Hara.  Wake up."

She slowly opened her eyes to an unfocused world of confusing forms and double vision.  She blinked slowly, trying to will her eyes and brain to work together.  As the world swam into focus, the blurry shapes before her gradually merged into the familiar form of her partner's face.  Lassiter was leaning over her, gently clasping both her wrists in one hand, the other holding a wet cloth soaked in ice water behind her neck.  His brow was creased in mild concern as he stared down at her.

"...cuh...carrlltonnn...?" she managed weakly.  She was surprised at how feeble her voice sounded.

His concern dissipated with a small sigh of relief as his partner finally recognized him.  "It's all right, O'Hara.  You're safe now."  Lassiter released her hands and removed the wet towel from behind her neck.  He placed it in a bowl of ice water sitting on the night stand, then moved over and carefully sat down next to her on the edge of the bed.  Wait, bed?  Where the hell was she?  

"...wha...where am I?" she asked, totally confused.

"Home."

As Juliet gradually took in her surroundings through bleary eyes, she eventually recognized the familiar decor of her bedroom.  She was lying in her own bed, comfortably propped up by soft pillows and covered with a warm quilt.  But...how the hell did she get there?  What in the world happened...

"You need to drink something."  Lassiter's voice interrupted her jumbled thoughts.  "Can you sit up?"  He picked up a glass of water from the night stand and held it in front of her.  

In her befuddled state, Juliet hadn't realized how thirsty she was until now.  Yes, drinking something was a very good idea.  Lassiter slid a supporting hand behind her back and helped her sit up.  With his assistance she managed to rise just enough to wedge her elbows underneath her.  Seeing she obviously couldn't manage the task herself at the moment, Lassiter raised the glass to Juliet's mouth and carefully helped her drink.  She trembled from the exertion it took to stay upright, but managed to down all of the water.  When she finished, she lay back against the pillows, exhausted from the effort.  She was both surprised and disturbed by how weak she was.  Juliet felt completely drained of strength, and even simple movements were incredibly difficult, almost as if her body wouldn't obey her brain.   

Juliet looked up at her partner sitting next to her.  His tie was missing, the top button of his white shirt was undone, and the cuffs of his unbuttoned shirtsleeves were rolled back.  It was how Carlton usually looked while working really long hours on a tough case.  Juliet noticed a chair had been moved from the kitchen and placed next to her bed.  An open book was laid face down on the seat, and Lassiter's suit jacket, shoulder holster, and tie were draped across the back.  She realized that he must have been sitting there for a while, but she didn't remember any of it.  She wondered why he was here, how she wound up in bed in her home, and why was her mind so damn sluggish?  Why couldn't she think straight, or remember...

"What happened?" she asked.  She noticed her speech was a little slurred.

"You were drugged," he informed her as he set the empty glass on the night stand.  "'Robert' put rohypnol in your drink."

Juliet blinked several times, trying to keep her vision focused.  "He...drugged me?"  Lassiter nodded silently.  Small bits of memory started coming back to her.

"How long was I out?  Wha...what time is it?"

"Well, I found you at about nine o'clock.  It's a little after four in the morning now."

Wow, that's...a long time.  Juliet's mind wasn't capable of doing the math right now.  Lassiter looked down at her, regarding her with mild concern.  "What's the last thing you remember?"

Juliet closed her eyes and tried to think back to the events of the previous evening.  Her recollection was fragmented at best.  "I was in the...the restaurant, we were eating...I got up, left the table for some reason...I don't remember much after that."  Suddenly a wave of disturbing images flooded Juliet's mind, flashing behind her eyes.  'Robert' dragging her into the parking lot, her muted cries for help going unanswered by people as they passed by, the nightmare of being utterly helpless to fend off her attacker as he forced his mouth onto hers...

Juliet's eyes flew open and she looked up at Lassiter, the fear evident in her expression.  "He was - he was kissing me...Robert was kissing me and I couldn't stop him.  Oh, Carlton...did he-"

"No.  He didn't," he reassured her.  "I made sure of that."  Juliet looked at him curiously, but Lassiter did not elaborate any further.  He decided it wasn't the best time to tell her that he had stubbornly followed her to the restaurant and surveilled 'Robert's' car from the back of the parking lot.  He had just finished making a quick food run to a nearby convenience store when he came out just in time to see 'Robert' maneuvering Juliet into his car.  Lassiter flung his coffee and banana nut muffin to the ground and took off across the street in a dead sprint in order to reach them in time.  He knew he shouldn't have taken that break...

Juliet thought for a few moments, trying to make sense out of what Lassiter had just told her.  "You...you stopped him?  You were there?"  

He nodded.  Juliet's brow furrowed as she stared up at him, and suddenly a pained look came over her face.  "Are you okay?  What's wrong?" Lassiter asked, mistaking physical sensation as the cause for her expression.  The look quickly turned to one of determination as Juliet suddenly began to sit up.  "Hey O'Hara, what the hell!  You need to lie-"

Having managed to raise up into a sitting position, Juliet reached out with both hands and grasped the front of Lassiter's shirt, using it to hold herself up.  She clutched the starched white fabric in her trembling fists as she struggled to stay upright.  He could tell she was using every bit of what little strength she had in order to accomplish the task.  Juliet looked into Lassiter's eyes with a bleary, unfocused stare.  "Carlton, I am so, so sorry..." she began.  "You were right about him, you were right.  He was going to - he tried to...he started to...oh God..."  Juliet closed her eyes and looked away momentarily as she relived that terrible moment in the car.  

"Hey, it's all right.  He didn't-"

"Because you were there!" she continued.  "You were there, Carlton.  Even after I didn't believe you, after saying all those terrible things to you, and I'm so damn sorry...but you were still there..."  She looked up at him as tears began to form in her eyes.

'Uh oh,' he thought.  'Oh no, not again.'  He couldn't get away because O'Hara had a death grip on his shirt.  He was about to be trapped in a room with a crying female before him.  What circle of hell was this?  As fresh tears slowly pooled above Juliet's cheeks, Lassiter felt the familiar urge to run.  He cast a desperate glance at the open bedroom door as if it was the only fire exit in a burning building.  'Aww crap!  Here we go...' Lassiter thought, as it quickly became apparent that the weeping was about to commence.  'Why is she crying?  What the hell did I do wrong this time?'  Juliet's breath hitched in her chest and her bottom lip began to quiver as she tried to keep her emotions in check.  Tears welled up and threatened to spill over the bottom lids of her large, sad eyes.  She reminded Lassiter of that annoyingly cute little penguin crying ice cubes from the Bugs Bunny cartoons he watched as a child.  

Juliet caught and held his gaze with her tear-filled eyes.  "You didn't have to help me, but you did it anyway...I..." she paused, swallowed hard, then continued.  "I didn't deserve your help..." she said quietly.

Lassiter stared at her for a moment in silence, hardly able to comprehend what he just heard.  She couldn't actually believe that...could she?  A single tear spilling over the brim of her eye confirmed that, yes, she actually did.  Suddenly he remembered the angry thoughts that raced through his head after their argument.  'Fuck her, I did my goddamn job.  Whatever happens tonight, she damn well deserves it.'  Pangs of guilt settled in his stomach like a lead weight.  How the hell could he have ever thought that, how could he have been so damn callous?  And then, it happened.  Lassiter had a moment of clarity.  He finally understood what Juliet was talking about, and why she was currently leaking moisture from her eyes.  Juliet must be thinking something similar, that she somehow deserved what had happened to her.  She thought she brought all this on herself.

'Okay Carlton, time to suck it up.  You've got to make things right,' he thought.  'You can't just ignore this.  You can't run away.  Say something and don't screw it up.'  He tried to think of the right words to say, but dialogue escaped him at the moment.  'Say something you twit!'  Lassiter finally overcame his vocal paralysis and gave it his best effort.  

"Hey," he said softly.  "Of course you deserve it.  I'll always help you, no matter what.  I mean..."  He shrugged his shoulders.  "You're my partner, O'Hara," he said, as if it was the most obvious thing on the world.  Hearing his words, Juliet's eyes held his for a brief moment, just long enough for Carlton to see pain within them.  Then she looked down, and tears began freely spilling down her cheeks as she lowered her head in shame.  

"I didn't listen to you, it's all my fault..." she whispered.

For a brief moment, Lassiter thought that, yet again, he had screwed up.  He thought that he had made things worse by saying the wrong thing.  But then he realized that, sometimes, there is just nothing you can say.  That words won't do any good.  That  words alone are not enough.  Sometimes, actions speak louder than words.  'Oh, what the hell,' he thought.  'She damn well deserves it.'

Lassiter wrapped his arm around Juliet's shoulders, placed a hand behind her head, gently pressed her face to his shoulder, and just let her cry.  Juliet's shoulders shook and her hands trembled as she quietly sobbed into his shirt.  Lassiter felt her lean against him and her hands relax as the last of her strength left her.  He sat with her in silence, listening to her muffled hitching breaths, holding her steady against his shoulder and letting Juliet do what she needed to do.  He figured she'd just cry for a minute, get it over with, and be done with it.  Then it occurred to him that she'd been crying a bit longer than he had anticipated.  'How long is this going to last?' he wondered.
 
Lassiter snuck a glance at his watch.  She'd been crying for approximately two minutes and forty-five seconds.  'This is taking longer than I thought,' he realized.  He couldn't stop now, though.  Not until she was done.  That would just be rude.  No, he was just going to have to "man-up" and tough it out until Juliet was finished.  So Lassiter busied himself by thinking about the probable cause statement he'd have to write in order to obtain an arrest warrant for 'Rob'.  Oh, yes, it was going to feel good to arrest him.  Maybe he'd even get lucky and the creep would try to resist...

Gradually, Juliet's shoulders stopped shaking, her hitched breaths slowed to mere sniffles, and she started to quiet down.  After several more minutes (seven minutes and thirty-eight seconds, to be exact), Lassiter realized that she was breathing quietly and leaning against him rather heavily.

 "O'Hara?"  No answer.  Lassiter leaned his head back slightly and looked at her.  Apparently she had fallen asleep.  'Poor kid must be exhausted,' he thought.  Lassiter tried to set her down without waking her.  She stirred as her head was removed from his shoulder.  

"Hmm?  What?" she asked, her eyes half-closed.

"Lie down, O'Hara.  Go to sleep," he said, as he carefully helped her lie back against the pillows.   

"Oh, okay..."  She looked up at Lassiter.  She noticed the wet spots she had left on the shoulder of his shirt.  "...sorry 'bout your shirt..."  She was fading fast, barely able to stay awake.

Lassiter looked down at the moisture mixed with traces of smeared make-up and shrugged.  "It's a work shirt.  Department pays for the dry cleaning, anyway."  He stood up, then leaned over and adjusted the quilt to cover her shoulders.  "Get some sleep, O'Hara.  I'll be out on the couch if you need anything."  

As Lassiter turned to leave, he felt Juliet's hand on his wrist.  He turned back around to see her looking up at him expectantly.  "Hey..." she said, barely a whisper.  He leaned closer to her, assuming she wanted to say something.  Then he saw the look behind her half-closed lids, and knew exactly what she was telling him.  He could read it in his partner's eyes, clear as day.  She didn't need to express it in words.

'Thank you.'

Carlton gently took her hand into both of his, holding it for a brief moment.  Juliet could swear she felt him give her hand a slight squeeze as he stared down at her with the slightest hint of a smile, reading the silent reply in his deep blue eyes.  

'You're welcome.'

Exhaustion finally overwhelmed Juliet and she closed her eyes, unable to keep them open any longer.  Carlton tucked her hand back underneath the quilt, picked up the bowl of ice water from the night stand, retrieved his shoulder holster from the back of the chair, and quietly slipped out of the room.  





*****************************************************





Lassiter sat down on the couch and set his shoulder holster down next to a small stack of magazines on the coffee table in front of him.  He looked at his watch and noted it was after four thirty in the morning.  'Holy crap, what a night,' he thought, as it finally hit him just how tired he was.  He emptied his pockets and placed his personal possessions on the table next to his holster.  Then he grabbed a couple of ornamental side pillows, fluffed them up, placed them under his head, and stretched out on the couch on his back.  After such a rocky marriage, Lassiter was used to sleeping on couches.  

He stuffed one arm up under his head, draped his other arm over his stomach, and tried to relax.  As his eyes wandered lazily about the room he caught sight of a thin red book poking out from underneath the stack of magazines on the coffee table.  Curious, he reached over and pulled out the book, turning it over in his hands.  It was a copy of "How The Grinch Stole Christmas" by Dr. Seuss.  

"I guess O'Hara must have left it out after her nieces and nephews visited for the holidays," he muttered.  "Either that or my partner reads at a kindergarten level."  

He was about to put it back, but paused.  "It' been forever since I've read this."  Looking around to make sure he was alone, he opened the bright red cover and smiled as he began to read.  He had forgotten how much he loved this book as a kid.  He flipped to his favorite part at the end.  

"And what happened then?...
Well...in Who-ville they say,
That the Grinch's small heart
Grew three sizes that day!"

Lassiter thought back to the events that had just taken place in the room just down the hall.  He pictured O'Hara's tear-filled eyes, and how at first they scared the hell out of him, made him want to run out of the room screaming like a banshee.  But then he remembered the pain in her eyes as he realized she blamed herself for her entire ordeal, and the moment when he understood what he needed to do was shut the hell up and just be there.  He thought back to O'Hara crying until falling asleep on his shoulder, and he felt a strange warmth deep in his chest.  The nervous tightness he usually felt there while in the presence of weeping females was gone, replaced by that weird new sensation.  It was the feeling that he had finally, after all these years, done something right.  It felt like liberation, like redemption.  It felt...kind of good.  His eyes returned to the text in front of him.

"That the Grinch's small heart
Grew three sizes that day!"

He laughed.  "Only three?  Try thirty."  Lassiter closed the book and tossed it back onto the coffee table.  "Well, I have to admit," he said to himself.  "Having a woman cry snot tears all over your shirt is a hell of a lot more tolerable that getting yelled at."  He looked down at the wet spot on his shoulder.  "Too bad I don't have my 'Sham-wow' with me.  Bet it would soak that right up."  

Lassiter suddenly remembered how hungry he was.  He hadn't eaten since lunch the day before.  He got up off the couch and wandered into the kitchen, intent on raiding O'Hara's refrigerator.  "Maybe there's some 'roast beast' in here that I can carve up..."





**************************************************





Juliet sat in the recliner across from her couch, watching her partner sleep.  He was lying on his side with his arms across his chest, his breathing slow and even.  He looked so peaceful that she was debating whether or not she should wake him up.  She knew he'd had a very long night, and she hesitated to interrupt what was probably much-needed rest.  It was only about nine in the morning, so she knew he couldn't have had more than a few hours of sleep.

She thought back to the events of the previous evening, trying to remember as much as possible.  She was slowly regaining memories, odd bits here and there, but she was still missing a huge chunk of time.  The last clear memory she had was getting up from the dinner table at the restaurant.  Then the next thing Juliet knew she woke up in her own bedroom with the currently sleeping Lassiter at her bedside.  And even then she was in such a stupor that her recollection of events was hazy at best.  

She woke up again twenty minutes ago to find Lassiter's suit jacket, tie, and a book sitting on a chair next to her bed, and a full glass of water on the night stand.  She also found her red silk shirt hanging inside her closet with her dirt-covered suit jacket and skirt hanging on the back of the door.  Judging by the way her clothes looked she must have been lying on the ground at some point.  What she didn't know was how she got dressed in her t-shirt and sweatpants that she currently wore.  Okay, maybe she didn't really want to know the answer to that one...  

Juliet had a multitude of questions to ask him, but there was one in particular that she really wanted him to answer.  She studied his recumbent form, trying to decide if she should just let him continue sleeping.  Juliet decided to go ahead and ask.  She didn't know when she would get another chance.  

"Hey."

Lassiter opened one eye half way and looked at her.  Either he was a really light sleeper, or he actually wasn't joking when he bragged about "sleeping with one eye open."

"Hey," he answered, opening both eyes.  He made no move to get up.  "You're feeling better."  

She nodded.  "Yeah, thanks.  Still a bit light-headed, though."  Juliet hated to ask the next question, but she needed clarity.  She was still trying to make sense of some strange memories from the previous evening.  "Um, Carlton?  Did I...was I crying on you last night?"  She winced, not sure if she really wanted to hear the answer.

Lassiter paused, his mouth open, hesitant to answer.  "Oh, um...well, you..."  He cleared his throat as his ears turned slightly red.  "Yeah, you did."  

Juliet put her hand on her face and lowered her head, clearly embarrassed.  "Oh God..."  She gave him an apologetic look.  "I'm sorry, Carlton.  I know how much you hate dealing with that kind of thing."

"It's okay, O'Hara.  I suppose it could have been worse."  Lassiter saw that her face was red, clearly indicating she was still embarrassed about it.  Suddenly feeling a bit self-conscious, he decided to put an end to it.  "It was exigent circumstances," he declared firmly.  "Don't worry about it."  Lassiter regarded her with a critical eye and decided to change the subject.  "You eat anything yet?"

Juliet winced slightly at the thought of food.  "No, not yet.  Don't feel like it at the moment."

Lassiter nodded.  "Nauseous?"

"A little, not much.  It's not bad."

"That's normal," he said knowingly.  "It'll pass soon."

Juliet stared at him intently.  "Carlton, I wanted to ask you something."  She leaned forward and placed her elbows on her knees.  He sat up a little bit and propped his head up on his hand.  "How did you know where to find me?" she asked.  "I never told you where we were going."

Lassiter shrugged.  "I followed you," he said casually, as if spying on your partner during a date was a common daily activity.

"Why?"

"Because I knew that 'Rob' character was a creep."

"I know that, but how?  I mean, you pegged him right from the beginning, one hundred percent.  You never even hesitated."  She leaned forward a little more.  "How did you know?"

He paused.  "Like I said, past experience."

"Tell me about it."

He sighed.  "It happened to a friend of mine in college.  Very bright young woman, pre-law major."  He yawned, then continued.  "I saw the same type of behavior, got the same feeling that the guy was a creep, but..." he let his voice trail off.  

"But what?" Juliet prompted.

"I warned her, but she didn't listen to me."  Lassiter paused, lost in thought for a moment, and Juliet could see the regret clearly etched on his face.  "And like an idiot I dropped the subject.  I just let it go.  Figured, 'she's an adult, she can take care of herself'...  He rubbed his hand over his eyes.  "They went out for drinks one night, he drugged her, brought her back to his place.  He raped her.  Then he took her home and dropped her off at her front door like nothing ever happened."

Juliet listened in silence.  This was clearly an uncomfortable subject for him.  Lassiter folded his arm underneath his head with a regretful sigh.  "I should have been...more persistent.  I just knew that guy was bad news, but I let her go out with him anyway.  Dumb bastard..."  Lassiter rubbed the bridge of his nose, then looked up at Juliet.  "No way in hell I was going to make the same mistake twice."

Juliet nodded, lost in thought.  She seemed to be contemplating her next question very carefully.  After a few moments, she spoke.  "You haven't mentioned anything about  pressing charges against Robert.  Usually you'd pounce on that subject.  Why aren't you asking about that?"  Lassiter simply stared at her.  Her eyes moved to the gun in his shoulder holster on the table between them.  "Carlton, you didn't..."

Lassiter grinned.  "No, I didn't," he chuckled.  "Don't think it didn't cross my mind, though."

Juliet breathed a sigh of relief.  "So...what did you do to him?  What happened?"

"Let's just say he should see a dentist very soon."  Lassiter smiled as he fondly remembered his fist connecting with 'Robert's' face.  That was a damn good punch.  One rarely gets to unload a classic full force haymaker on some unsuspecting asshole who truly deserves it.  "Oh yeah, and his car needs a little body work-"

"Maybe you should invoke your Fifth Amendment right against self-incrimination at this point, Carlton," Juliet advised him, becoming slightly concerned.  She decided she should probably continue that conversation later, and returned to their previous topic of discussion.  "You haven't answered my question."

Lassiter quietly looked at Juliet for a few moments before giving his reply.  "You know how bad these trials can be.  Especially if they get an aggressive defense attorney."  He paused, then added, "It's your call, O'Hara.  I'm behind you either way."

Juliet was surprised to hear his response.  This was THE Carlton Lassiter, Head Detective of the Santa Barbara Police Department.  The most by-the-book, 'tough on crime' officer in the entire police force.  Hell, possibly in the entire state.  Yet, here he was, choosing to support her decision, even if Juliet declined to prosecute in order to avoid the ordeal of a trial.  Until this moment, she hadn't thought him capable of setting aside his rigid personal code of ethics for such sympathetic behavior where the law was concerned.  She regarded Lassiter with a newfound respect.  

"What did your friend do?"  Juliet finally asked?  "Did she prosecute?"

"Yes, she filed charges.  But the laws and public attitude were different back then.  Plus, she didn't have much physical evidence to back up her statements about being drugged.  She didn't realize what had happened to her until three days later, and the drug had already passed through her system.  There were no toxicology results.  It basically wound up becoming a 'he said, she said' thing.  Tough trial, vicious defense attorney.  It was really hard on her..."

Juliet nodded in understanding.  "Acquittal?"

"Hung jury."  Lassiter looked at her intently.  "She didn't have nearly as much evidence against that guy as you do.  That drug will still be in your system for at least another twelve hours, plenty of time for a blood test.  Plus that restaurant has an excellent video surveillance system.  They use it to bust people who run out on the bill.  Every table is in view of at least one camera."

Juliet's brow furrowed.  "How do you know that, Carlton?" she asked, suspecting she already knew the answer.

"What, you thought I wouldn't check?"  Lassiter raised his eyebrows at her.  "Where is my partner, and what have you done with her?"

Juliet gave a small laugh.  "So..." she paused.  "Did she regret it?  Did your friend ever regret going to trial even though the guy walked?"

"No."  His reply was simple.  Confidant.  

Juliet leaned back in her chair and studied her reclining partner.  He lay on the couch quietly looking back at her, then he yawned and began casually scratching an itch on his side.  As she watched Lassiter, it triggered a brief dream-like memory from the previous night, invading her perception.  She felt a strange floating sensation as she looked up to see Lassiter's face in profile hovering above hers.  He seemed to be looking ahead, watching something as she floated along with him.  He turned his head to look down at her, speaking words she couldn't seem to hear.  As he spoke to her, she saw the top of a doorway pass by above his head, she was looking up at the ceiling...and that's when she realized her partner was carrying her.

Juliet had a choice to make.  No matter what her decision was, she knew the path ahead of her would be a difficult one.  As she looked at her friend lying before her, she knew she would not have to walk that path alone.

"Carlton?"

"Yes?"

"Take me to the doctor.  Let's go get a blood test."
 
Lassiter smiled.  'And "Robert" thought I was the tough one...'






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Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I do not own any of the characters of Psych and am not affiliated with the show or USA Network.  The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.  I do not own the rights to the movies Cobra or Commando.  I also do not own the rights to either "Ben & Jerry's Ice Cream" or Stephen Colbert, and am not affiliated with them in any way.

SPOILER ALERT:  Episodes "Tuesday The 17th" and major spoilers for the ending of "An Evening With Mr. Yang".  

WARNING: This story deals with some relatively mature subject matter but it's not graphic in nature.  No graphic descriptions are given.

Some characters may be considered mildly Out Of Character, but I like to think they are perfectly in character given these circumstances.  I don't believe their reactions are OOC given the events of the story.  They are supposed to be humans, after all.

That being said, ENJOY!  Please be kind enough to review.  All feedback, good or bad, is welcome.  





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Carlton Lassiter sat in a chair at the island counter in the middle of his kitchen, looking at the contents of a small, black velvet jewelry box.  He had been sitting there ever since arriving home from the first court hearing regarding the division of marital assets between him and his now ex-wife.  He knew it was going to be a long day as soon as Victoria entered the courtroom.  She had walked up to Lassiter, set the box containing his mother's wedding ring on the table in front of him, and coldly stated, "That's the only thing of yours I don't want."  Then she sat in a chair next to her lawyer and said absolutely nothing the entire session.  She didn't need to say anything else, she let her lawyer do all the talking for her.  She even refused to look at him as her attorney demanded he forfeit the house.

Ignoring the frozen "Hungry Man" dinner slowly thawing on the counter across from him, Lassiter produced his wedding band from his pocket and studied it carefully, slowly turning it over in his long fingers.  He had it custom made by a jeweler to match his mother's ring as a romantic surprise for his bride-to-be.  Lassiter thought back to the day he had picked it up from the shop, remembering how excited he had been about their upcoming ceremony.  At the time he naively thought it would last forever.  But now, sitting alone in his kitchen, he tried to remember when, and how, it had all gone so wrong.  

'Wonder who will give me the best price for this thing?' he wondered, as he quietly ran his fingertips over its carved features.  'Craig's List or a pawn shop?'  

His silent melancholia was interrupted by a knock at his front door.  Lassiter set the ring down next to the jewelry box and checked his watch as he stood up.  It was almost seven o'clock in the evening, meaning he had been brooding for just over an hour.  'Who the hell could that be?' he thought, fully intent on dismissing the visitor with extreme prejudice.  Lassiter removed his dark gray suit jacket, hung it up on the coat rack by the front door, and peered through the peephole.  'What in the world is she doing here?'

Lassiter opened his front door to find Detective Juliet O'Hara standing on his front doorstep.  Her hair was casually pulled back into a ponytail, and she wore a plain navy blue t-shirt over well-worn jeans.  Lassiter noted a pair of plastic grocery bags sitting on the ground by her sneaker-clad feet.  "Hi, Carlton!" she greeted him cheerfully as she picked up the bags.

Lassiter was certainly not in the mood for cheer.  He frowned down at his partner, wondering why she had chosen to interrupt his self-imposed solitary confinement.  "What the hell are you doing here, O'Hara?" he grumbled.  "Don't you know what time it is?"

"Yeah, it's only about seven o'clock," she replied, sounding annoyingly upbeat.

"Seven...on a Friday night," he admonished her.  Juliet subtly began wafting the bags in Lassiter's direction as he continued his attempts to dismiss her from his presence.  "What in the world are you doing wasting your time here-"  Lassiter stopped suddenly, then began curiously sniffing the air.  "What is that..." sniff, "...that...smell?  Is it..."  His resistance crumbled immediately when he realized that O'Hara had come bearing food.

She held up the bag in her left hand, allowing Lassiter a view of the flat silver tinfoil containers inside.  "Barbecue chicken breasts and sides from 'The Smokehouse'.  You've been wanting to try it for almost a month now."  She shrugged her shoulders, adding, "No time like the present."  She finished the sentiment with a friendly smile.  

Lassiter raised his eyebrows in pleasant surprise.  He had to admit, it smelled really good.  His thoughts briefly settled on the bland, partially frozen box dinner thawing on the counter, the same old evening meal he'd eaten three times already that week.  "Oh hell yeah..."  He immediately backed up and opened the door wider in a clear invitation for her to bring the source of that heavenly aroma into his home.  

Juliet allowed a subtle, victorious grin to grace her features, and casually walked into the living room as Lassiter closed the door behind her.  She knew her partner couldn't resist good food.  She even heard his stomach start growling as she passed by him on the way to the kitchen.  Lassiter eagerly followed like a hungry dog anticipating table scraps.  

Juliet set the bags down on the island counter and caught a glimpse of the ring next to the open velvet box, immediately recognizing the objects as a wedding band set.  Lassiter quickly swept the jewelry off the counter and slipped it into his pocket in an awkward attempt to keep it from her view.  Juliet turned and busied herself with removing the food from the bag, politely acting as if she hadn't seen it.  

Juliet knew that Lassiter had a court date for the first property hearing at one o'clock that day.  When he called in to take the rest of the day off because he was going to be stuck in court all afternoon, she knew it could not have gone well.  Seeing the ring set confirmed her suspicions.  Juliet knew all too well that Carlton Lassiter was anything but sentimental.  For him to have been sulking over his used wedding rings, well, his day in court must have been pretty damn bad.  Juliet was glad she had decided to ignore her reservations about Lassiter's stubborn pride in favor of her current course of action.  She knew that her partner needed a friend right now, whether he liked to admit it or not.
 
Lassiter set out two plates, some cutlery, and a roll of paper towels for use as napkins while Juliet set the foil covered pans containing chicken, bacon seasoned green beans, and pan fried potatoes on the kitchen island countertop.  Lassiter unceremoniously stuffed the half-thawed frozen dinner back in the freezer and quickly pulled up a chair.  He wasn't hungry at all before, but now, smelling and seeing that food, he was ready to eat.  After sneaking the contents of the second grocery bag into the freezer, Juliet took a seat adjacent to his and they both attacked the feast with enthusiasm.  She decided her partner must be part caveman judging by some of the noises he made as he savored the meat he plucked from the bones.  Eventually, after taking the time to eat their fill, the pair found themselves with plates full of bones and used paper towels in front of them, and an open beer bottle in their respective hands.  

Lassiter loosened his belt a few notches and leaned back in his chair.  "Oh wow, that was good," he said with a satisfied sigh.  

Juliet licked a stray patch of sauce from her thumb.  "I think I'll take Buzz there next week.  I owe him lunch for running off all those copies of the McMillan file for me."

"I am going with you," Lassiter declared firmly, clearly wanting to sample the cuisine again.  "That's an order, Detective."  

Juliet smirked.  "Just as long as you don't order him around on his lunch hour.  Even Buzz deserves a break, you know."

"I will personally duct tape my own mouth shut just as long as I get to eat like that again," he replied, the hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.  Lassiter glanced over at Juliet, pausing for a moment in thought.  His smile faded as he debated whether or not to bring up the potentially sensitive subject that was on his mind.  He didn't want to spoil O'Hara's seemingly good mood.  Curiosity won out and Lassiter decided to ask.  He leaned forward in his chair and folded his arms in front of him on the counter's surface, studying the label on is partially consumed beer.  "How did the hearing go this morning?" he asked cautiously.

"What?"  Juliet's brow furrowed for a moment.  "Oh, that," she replied when she realized what he was talking about.  She was so concerned about Lassiter's divorce problems that she had almost forgotten about her own legal proceedings.  "Well 'Robert'...or John, excuse me...he pled guilty today."  

Lassiter raised his eyebrows and turned towards Juliet.  "Really."

Juliet laughed.  "Yeah, he did.  You should have seen the look on his face when he saw my badge," Juliet told him, smiling at the memory of the combination of shock and surprise etched on her attacker's face.  "As soon as I showed up to testify, he caved in and immediately begged for a plea bargain."

"Figures," Lassiter scoffed.  "Little rat bastard is a total coward.  He's even afraid of sweet lady justice."  

"I'll drink to that," Juliet said as she raised her bottle and took a sip.  She set her bottle down and risked a cautious glance at Lassiter.  Juliet decided to take advantage of the opportunity to segue into discussing the bitter topic of Lassiter's day in court.  "So...how did your hearing go this afternoon?"

Lassiter froze for a moment, then his expression darkened as he returned his gaze to the bottle in front of him.  Without a word he started chugging the rest of his beer.

Juliet winced.  "That bad, huh?"

Lassiter exhaled sharply as he set the empty bottle down on the counter top with a loud thud.  "Yeah, well...it sure as hell wasn't good," he replied bitterly.  With an exasperated sigh, he leaned forward in his chair, closed his eyes, and began massaging his temples with his fingers in an attempt to rid himself of stress.  Based on his body language, the attempt was obviously failing miserably.

Juliet watched with concern as Lassiter stopped rubbing and hunched over the island to rest his head in his hands.  'Oops...guess I shouldn't have brought it up.  Way to go, Jules!  He was finally in a good mood and you ruined it,' she thought to herself.  'Okay, what in the world should I do here?'  Admittedly, Juliet was not well-practiced in the emotional comfort of males.  Her natural instinct when seeing someone in that amount of distress was to wrap her arms around them in a great big hug, but she knew from experience that would only make Lassiter even more uncomfortable.  He just wasn't a 'hugs' kind of guy.  In over three years of working together, he had only willingly accepted a friendly embrace from her once.  And considering how embarrassed they both were after the last time he hugged her... 'Okay, hug is out.  Pat on the shoulder?  Silence?  Bring him another beer?'  She decided to try silence first, beer if that failed.  Add a sympathetic pat on the shoulder to go with the beer for good measure.  

They sat in silence for several moments.  Wondering why the usually verbose Juliet O'Hara wasn't talking, Lassiter opened one eye and risked a quick glance in her direction.  He saw his partner staring back at him, a look of concern clearly etched across her features.  'Don't be such a jerk,' he thought.  'She's only trying to help.  Be nice you dumb bastard.'  With a frustrated sigh, he let one hand fall to the table while the he rested his forehead in the other.  He closed his eyes again and absentmindedly began playing with his fork.  

"Everything."

Juliet blinked, startled that her partner had broken the heavy silence in the room.  "What's that?"

"Everything," he continued without opening his eyes.  "That's what she wants.  The house, the furniture, my savings...well, everything except this."  He sat up, set the fork down on the napkin, and produced the ring box from his pocket.  He opened it and set it on the table in front of Juliet.  "My mother's ring.  Handed it back to me as soon as she walked into the courtroom," he scoffed.  "Told me it's the one thing of mine she didn't want."  

Juliet shook her head.  "Wow.  That's harsh."

"Lawyer says it's a standard tactic," he continued.  "Start big and fight tooth and nail over every little thing until you give them more than you should just to shut them up and get it over with.  Don't know why she's demanding so much, she always earned more money than me.  Her damn family's rich, you know.  They never liked me, especially her father.  Daddy bought her a real land shark just to do a number on me...damn bi-"  Lassiter checked himself mid-insult and looked at Juliet.

After a slight pause Juliet added, "I believe the word you're looking for is bitch," she grinned.

Lassiter tried to suppress a smile.  He failed.

Juliet rose from her chair and moved to stand beside Lassiter, leaning over to casually rest her forearms on the counter.  "Hey," she said sympathetically.  "For what it's worth, I'm sorry, Carlton.  You don't deserve to be treated like that."

He turned his head and looked away from her, staring vacantly at a spot on the floor.  Juliet suddenly became aware that Lassiter was fidgeting anxiously in his seat, looking at her as if he was hesitant to say something.  He seemed...oddly nervous.  "Carlton?" Juliet queried.  "Is there..."  She suddenly had an idea.  "Did you want to say something?"  Lassiter's eyes were fixed on the floor.  Juliet thought he resembled a boy shyly attempting to confess an embarrassing truth to a friend.

"It's all right, Carlton," she assured him.  "Go ahead.  It's me you're talking to here."

"Um..."  Lassiter scanned the room as if making sure they were alone, then cleared his throat and swallowed, looking at Juliet with trepidation.  "Could you, um..."  Lassiter felt his face turning red as he started to blush, a fact that did not go unnoticed by Juliet.  

Juliet decided to try a tactic she knew he would understand.  "Just spit it out, Carlton," she ordered firmly, not wanting to watch him squirm any more.  "Suck it up and say it."

His resolve finally broke, and he regarded her with a strange mixture of apprehension and anticipation as he quietly asked, "Can I have a hug?"

Juliet managed to hide her surprise at his unexpected request quite well.  She smiled warmly and immediately stepped forward before her partner had a chance to regret asking his question, wrapping her arms around him without hesitation in a friendly embrace.  She felt him stiffen, but instead of withdrawing he placed his hands across her back, awkwardly returning the hug with the minimal amount of contact possible.

'So that's why he's so damn nervous,' Juliet thought.  Lassiter was not good with "that affection crap" as he called it.  She knew he was terrified of it.  He'd rather take a bullet than admit to needing emotional support.  Even though she was his partner, and as such knew him quite well, he had to really be hurting in order to swallow his pride and ask her for this.  Juliet realized that Lassiter was sitting stiff as a board, still not moving away but obviously uncomfortable.  He hadn't run screaming out of the room yet, which Juliet took as a good sign.  'All right, I should say something to alleviate his embarrassment here,' she thought mercifully.  'The last thing he needs right now is to feel ashamed of himself.'

"Hey," Juliet said softly as she patted his back.  "You deserve it.  I'll always help you, no matter what," she said, repeating the same words he had spoken to her in a similar moment just a few short weeks ago.  "You're my partner, Carlton."

For a moment, nothing changed.  Lassiter remained tense in her arms, resistant to her support.  But then, ever so slowly, he shifted his hands on her back, and slid his long arms around Juliet to envelop her in a tight embrace.  He closed his eyes in surrender and slowly let out a deep breath, sinking against her as he exhaled, releasing what seemed like years of tension accumulated within his body.  The sense of perpetual stress he carried resulting from his volatile marriage, the long years of separation as he tried desperately to make it work, the upcoming divorce battle...it was finally leaving him.  Lassiter felt as if the weight of the world gradually lifted off his shoulders in that one long sigh.  For the first time in a very long while, he felt perfectly relaxed.  'Hey, this affection crap isn't half-bad,' he thought with mild surprise.  'I have to admit...It's actually kind of...nice.'  He remained there for several moments, making no effort to remove himself from the unexpectedly warm and comfortable position.  Then he realized with great embarrassment that his chin was resting heavily on O'Hara's shoulder with his cheek pressed against her neck.

'Oh my God!'  In a mild panic, Lassiter immediately released his hold on Juliet, throwing his hands in the air and scooting his chair backwards, looking away as his face and ears flushed bright red.  "Sorry," he mumbled, refusing to look at her, clearly ashamed of himself for having such a moment of girly-man weakness in front of his partner.

Juliet smiled and quickly gave a reassuring pat on his arm.  "Congratulations, Carlton," she said, trying to alleviate his discomfort.  "You've just proved that you're human.  Don't worry," she joked.  "Your secret is safe with me."  He still couldn't look at her.  Juliet rolled her eyes.  "Carlton, seriously.  It's fine.  Don't worry about it."  Lassiter's gaze seemed permanently affixed to the counter top in front of him.  He rubbed the back of his neck, looking absolutely mortified.  'Okay, I have to snap him out of this,' Juliet thought.  'Time for part two of the "man plan."'

Juliet walked over to the refrigerator, retrieved a DVD she had stashed near the appliance, and snuck the second bag out of the freezer.  She placed the contents of the bag on the counter next to her, then set the DVD box down, and slowly pushed it across the table into his view.

Lassiter's brow furrowed in confusion.  "What's this?"  His embarrassment momentarily forgotten, Lassiter picked up the DVD.  It was a BluRay disc of Cobra with Sylvester Stallone.  He looked up at O'Hara, who was standing next to the five pints of Ben & Jerry's ice cream she had set out on the counter.  

"I didn't know what your favorite flavor was, so I brought several.  There's bound to be something here you'll like."

"O'Hara?  What in the world..."

Juliet arched her eyebrow at him.  "There's a reason why women do this, Carlton," she stated knowingly.  "It works.  Trust me."

Curious, Lassiter sat up and reached across the table, turning the labels so he could read them.  O'Hara had selected five different flavors of the very rich brand of ice cream.  The flavors were "Cake Batter", the traditional "Chocolate", "Chocolate Therapy" which apparently consisted of chocolate ice cream infused with chocolate cookies and swirls of chocolate pudding, "Vanilla Caramel Fudge", and...interesting... "Stephen Colbert's Americone Dream."  Lassiter read the ingredients of the last one.  "Hmm...vanilla ice cream with fudge-covered waffle cone pieces and caramel swirls..."  Lassiter slid the container towards him and O'Hara claimed the plain chocolate.  

Juliet clapped her hands together.  "So...you ready to watch Sly Stallone kick some ass?"  She crossed the kitchen, put the rest of the ice cream back in the freezer, and opened the drawer containing the silverware.

Lassiter couldn't suppress the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.  "Yeah."  He nodded.  "Yes, I am."  His smile broadened.  "Thank you, O'Hara.  This is..." he paused.  "It's very nice of you."  He added quietly.  As a matter of fact, it was one of the nicest things anyone had ever done for him.  But he wasn't going to tell her that.  At least not at that moment.  He was still the Head Detective here, after all.

Juliet tossed him a spoon.  "Does it have a car chase?" she asked, as she walked towards the living room.  

Lassiter rose from his chair and followed her.  "Oh yeah, it sure does."

"Is it a good one?" she said as she sat on one end of the couch in front of the TV.

"Epic," he replied, as he dropped the disc into the BluRay player and turned on the system.  He was about to sit on the couch when he paused, set his ice cream down on the coffee table, then turned and headed into the kitchen.  Juliet heard him open a drawer, then he came back, crossing through the living area and moving towards his bedroom.

"Carlton?  What in the world are you doing?" Juliet asked, perplexed.

"Hang on a second," he called over his shoulder as he went into his bedroom.  A minute later he emerged, having donned a pair of dark aviator sunglasses and black leather driving gloves.  He held a wooden matchstick between clenched front teeth.  Juliet stared at him, wondering exactly how much alcohol her partner had consumed before she arrived.

Lassiter struck a dramatic, tough-guy pose as he stood in the doorway.  "Crime is a disease," he growled in his best Sylvester Stallone impersonation.  He removed the matchstick from his teeth with a flourish.  "And I'm the cure..."  His imitation of Stallone was truly awful.

Juliet burst out laughing.  Lassiter grinned as he replaced the match between his teeth and strutted into the room.  "Your Sylvester Stallone imitation sounds like Rocky Balboa on thorazine!"  

Apparently immune to her critique, he wandered about the apartment turning off all the lights.  He sauntered over to the couch utilizing his best Stallone-like strut and sat down on the opposite end.  "Here," he said, leaning over to hand Juliet a wooden match and a pair of sunglasses.  "You can't watch Cobra without the proper accessories."

Juliet looked at the dark sunglasses and frowned.  "Isn't it kind of hard to watch a movie in the dark with these things on?"

"It enhances the experience."  He insisted, then arched his eyebrow as he looked over at her.  "There's a reason why men do this, O'Hara," he said knowingly.  "It works.  Trust me," he added with a smile as the match hung out of the corner of his mouth.

Juliet slipped the shades over her eyes without further protest.  "Enhances the experience," she muttered, as she stuck the match in her mouth and took the top off her pint of dessert.  

Lassiter pressed 'play' on the remote, picked up his ice cream, and scooped some of the after dinner treat into his mouth.  'DAMN!' he thought.  'This Ben & Jerry's crap is really good!'  The TV bathed the room in a soft glow as the opening credits flashed across the screen.  

Juliet looked over at her partner as he leaned back on the couch and propped his feet up on the coffee table.  He looked absolutely ridiculous wearing those sunglasses and leather gloves in the dark while shoveling another spoonful of ice cream into his mouth.  But there was also something present that she had never truly seen before in Lassiter.  A side of him almost never seen by anyone, as it meant letting his defenses down.  Something she was glad her partner was finally allowing her to see.

He was happy.

Juliet smiled, curled her legs up under her, settled back onto the couch, and sank the spoon into her chocolate ice cream.  The gravelly voice of Sylvester Stallone filled the room as his opening speech berating criminals played in surround sound.  

"Commando."

Juliet looked over at her partner.  "What?"

"I like Commando, too."

Juliet nodded in understanding as she savored a spoonful of the rich chocolate flavored dessert.  "Then Commando it is, next time."  

She briefly wondered what the "proper accessories" were for watching Arnold Schwarzenegger movies.

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