#Carlton Lassiter fic

[cintasfics]

I've recently started watching Psych and I've come up with my own oc/self-insert because I'm desperate for fics lol. So here is a basic rundown of her relationships with the main group:

Friends with Gus and Shawn (obviously)

I'm thinking she met Gus through work (she's a nurse) or they all just crossed paths one day and Shawn decided she was their new best friend (a la the looney tunes show)

Shares custody of Shawn, if Gus is busy with work or has just had enough of Shawn for a bit, she joins him on his cases instead and/or tries to keep him entertained

I'm unsure if she knows that Shawn is faking being a psychic or not, I'm thinking she's eventually let in on the bit so they have someone else in their corner helping them do the grunt work, but until then she's sceptical but goes along with it regardless because it's fun to watch

Gets on well with Juliet, they started hanging out outside of cases when she invited Juliet out with her friends because she knows what it's like to be new in town not knowing many people. they soon have a 'you're not insane and neither am I (both clearly insane)' thing going on and the others try to avoid leaving them alone unsupervised

Lassiter immediately writes her off due to her association with Shawn but slowly warms up to her and to his horror, finds himself falling for her (much to Juliet, their number one shipper's, delight)

Henry is kind of a father figure to her, with her family living elsewhere he kind of steps in to help her with various things (car trouble, maintenance issues, no one to fish with etc.) and they become quite close. she loves to annoy Shawn by saying she's Henry's favourite (she gets away with more/lectured less than him and Gus)

[wearethefandomsthatwaited]

Vagos pt.3 - Play nice ... or not

Part 1 Lassiter? More like Assiter!

Part 2 In the Chief's office

The medic clears her after a grueling thirty minutes of anesthetic-less stitchwork — even a local anesthetic would have sufficed — ordering her to rest, and to get the wound properly looked at in the hospital. Like that’s going to happen, she thinks, pushing off from her lean on the table, thankful that her gun holster is no longer digging into her back. She moves to give Smith, who is crouched over packing his equipment, a handshake. When she notices the blood still clinging to her fingers, she thinks better of it, opting to send the medic a nod, and a quick ‘ thank you’ instead. Jewel exits the conference room to the sound of Smith whistling some Top 40’s pop song, smiling to herself when he misses a note. 

She takes slow steps, eyes searching as she walks. She spots a uniform exiting the restroom, and heads that way, wanting to scrub her hands clean. The fluorescents of the bathroom do her no favors, highlighting the dark shadows under her eyes, and the even darker bruise blooming across her cheek. Jewel grimaces at her reflection, wanting nothing more than to shower the dust and grime away. She scrubs her hands, taking care to scrape blood from under her fingernails, until they’re pink from the hot water. After a moment's hesitation, she bends to wash her face, wiping the blood from her split lip, and eyebrow. She hears the thud of a utility belt being hooked on a stall, as she pats her face dry, studying herself in the mirror. 

Not my best , she thinks, licking her split lip, but definitely better than all that heavy makeup . Even without last night’s makeup, she looks a far cry better than she had walking into the precinct this morning, which is saying something given the impressive black eye and bruise high on her cheekbone.

She exits the restroom with a sigh, carefully slipping back into her leather jacket as she enters the bullpen on her journey to leave. She stops in her tracks when she spots Lassiter and O’Hara working at their desks, rerouting towards them, instead. Home, well the dingy apartment she’s undercover at, and blissful sleep.. after writing up my report, of course …will have to wait. She stops in front of Lassiter’s desk, standing patiently with her hands clasped behind her back. After a moment of him ignoring her, her boot begins tapping impatiently on the tile, eyes trained on his salt and pepper hair as he bends over a file.

She bites her tongue, hard breath pushing out of her nose, before turning away. “ Carlton ,” O’Hara chides, disapprovingly at her partner. Jewel makes a step towards the female detective’s desk, before turning slightly, pausing as Lassiter finally looks up, at his partner first, then locks eyes with Jewel.

With a put-upon sigh, his narrowed eyes piercing under his furrowed brow, he finally growls, “What do you want?” Jewel scoffs. So much for trying to smooth things out , she thinks, shaking her head before fully making her way towards O’Hara’s desk, watching as Lassiter throws his arms up, out of the corner of her eye. 

“Detective O’Hara,” Jewel nods amicably, projecting her voice enough that Lassiter can hear, a slight smile pulling at her split lip. “I figured it would be beneficial if the team saw the case file I’ve been putting together.” She glances at Detective Lassiter, who perks up at her words, face blank. “Would you like access to my files? I have them backed up securely online.” She and the other female detective share a smile, before O’Hara nods, moving to raise from her desk chair. “Oh no, please, sit. Sit . I’m sure you’re on your feet enough around here.” Jewel ignores the protest she can see forming on the blonde detective's kind face, opting to walk around the desk instead, so they both face the screen. 

Jewel leans over, fighting a wince at the stretch, as she logs into the encrypted site, ignoring the asinine argument about breakfast cereals that Spencer and Guster are having across the desk. Personally, she thinks cocoa puffs far outshine fruit loops , but she’s not going to entertain the discussion… not outwardly anyway, she has a reputation to maintain, afterall. She prompts O’Hara to enter her work email so that she can share the files to the computer. While she’s at it, she interrupts the debate, eyes turning to Guster, “What’s your email?”

“What about mine?” Spencer questions, offended. Guster puffs out his chest, a sneer on his face as he looks from her to Spencer. The two suck their teeth at each other, much like when she first arrived this morning, before Guster punches Spencer in the arm, promptly shutting him up. The psychic , she doesn’t buy it, whines, hand clutching his bicep. 

“I trust his internet security more than yours, Spencer.” Jewel hears a soft snort behind her, turning to find Assiter a few paces away, nonchalantly rifling through a filing cabinet. She rolls her eyes, turning back to the computer to share the files with the psychic duo. After a few moments of listening to Guster’s boasting over Spencer’s whining, she tunes her focus to behind her, listening to files rhythmically moving back and forth, scraping against the metal. “ Head Detective Lassiter ,” she drawls out, “would you like to deign us with your presence, and be granted access to my files?” 

“Might as well,” he replies, an air of nonchalance to his deep voice, as he slams the drawer to the filing cabinet, hands empty. She’s barely brought up the sharing page, before he’s bodily forcing her out of the way, leaning past her to type in his email. The jostling causes her to bump into the desk, the connection sending a jolt of pain up her abdomen. Gritting her teeth, she hums, forcing a steadying breath through her nose. Prick . 

“How bad is it,” O’Hara questions, kindly, motioning toward her stomach. Lassiter’s typing pauses for a moment as he, haughtily, glances back at Jewel, before he returns to his task. She shrugs, forcing the pain down, as she takes a step away from the Head Detective’s proximity.

“Stitching would’ve been better with some numbing cream, but a broken beer bottle can only do so much damage.”

“That is so cool,” Spencer exclaims, earning a glare from O’Hara and Guster.

Jewel chuckles around a wince. “It wasn’t cool when they smashed it on my face before stabbing me with it, but I agree…pretty cool.” They all freeze, even Assiter, turning to look at her with wide eyes. Spencer is the only one to smile back at her, offering her a fist bump, which she hesitantly returns, before he makes an explosion noise.

“Badass,” he beams, giving her a suggestive once over. She smirks back at him, before turning back to the others, who still seem perturbed.

“Oh, before I forget,” she starts, pulling out both of her phones, “I’ll need your contacts.” She steps around the desk, handing her work phone down the line, “this is the undercover one, so don’t use your full names, and please never use my name.” They finish going down the line, exchanging numbers, before she passes her second phone to repeat the process. “This is my personal, I guess, for normal working matters. I don’t carry it when undercover, so you might have to try both phones sometimes. And my name,” she air quotes, rolling her eyes, “is Gem , so it’s easy to remember, though all the bikers call me Brandy.” If it were her choice, it would have been something much cooler, but unfortunately, the ATF created the cover without her input. Maybe next time. 

“Really, Gem , and Brandy ” Lassiter intones, head rolling forward over his crossed arms, dark brows raised. “ Classy .” His sarcasm is thick, a mild contempt dripping from his cold voice. “Pretty sure I’ve arrested a few of those.”

“Wasn’t my choice,” she replies, straightening to look him in the eyes, “but don’t worry Head Detective , they’re supposed to sound like stripper names, it’s my backstory,” she sneers. They glare at one another, Jewel refusing to back down to the Head Detective’s cold eyes. She feels victory blooming in her chest when an angry flush starts to spread upwards on his neck. The reverie is broken, however, when she feels a large, warm hand tap her shoulder. She sends one last narrow-eyed glare, before turning to see the tall, dark haired officer from before.

He smiles at her widely, apprehension on his face, as he holds out a disposable coffee cup. “Thought you might need this.” She takes it from him gratefully, a small smile gracing her lips at his gangly great-dane puppy energy. “I didn’t know how you take it, so I figured a cream and sugar should be safe,” he pauses, eyes widening, “unless you're lactose intolerant, oh man .”

She cuts him off before he can fret too long, sipping at the hot coffee. “It’s perfect, and surprisingly thoughtful… Officer McNabb, was it?”

He nods, extending a hand to shake, “Yup, Buzz McNabb.”

“Detective Stewart,” she smiles, “Now, McNabb, is there a firing range here? And if so, could you help a girl out and lead the way?” The officer enthusiastically nods, stepping back to allow her to grab her phones, log out of the encrypted site, and nod a goodbye. 

“Shouldn’t you be going to relax,” O’Hara questions, concern in her kind blue eyes. 

“That’s what I’m doing.” Jewel chuckles, shaking O’Hara’s hand before sending a wink Spencer and Guster’s way, steadfastly ignoring the Head Detective’s eyes following her. Yes , she thinks, shooting off a few rounds is just what I need to relieve some stress .

“Wow Lassie,” Guster states disapprovingly, as she walks away.

“Lassiter, you simple, lanky, irishman,” Spencer continues, voice fading as she follows McNabb away, “You talked to her for less than an hour, and she already needs to shoot things.” 

Jewel chuckles around a mouthful of coffee. She can’t hear Lassiter’s reply, but can imagine the disdainful remark he surely throws her way. As if I'm the one who started it, Assiter.

[marlenacantswim]

shassie as a dynamic works so well imo because shawn is dialectically a genius and an idiot while lassie is dialectically badass and pathetic. thus, in the most ideal scenario, they're a scarily effective power duo of whip-smart deduction and ruthless tactical intimidation, but when you flip them to the other sides of their spectrums they become Two Losers Making Asses Of Themselves, both of whom constantly try to hoist themselves back to the other end by using the other as a counterweight.

[goofalicousgooberface]

Who wants to be psych mutuals and be insane about them..

[strangenewwords]

Shassie still a thing?

[angelwiththeblue-box]

shassie fanfic writers need to take more advantage of the lie detector the hurt/comfort could be so could

[gremlin-pattie]

Psych fics that altered my brain chemistry (most of these focus on Shawn and Gus’s friendship):

One Undead to Another

(vampire!Shawn, angst, the gang (Gus + Lassie + Jules) being there for Shawn)

same eyes as your father

(Henry learning how to accept and support trans!Shawn; he’s a little confused at first, but it’s very sweet)

Second Shooter

(trans!Gus and trans!Shawn surviving middle school together)

every superhero has an origin story

(a look into how knowing Shawn has changed Gus’s life)

these first few fragile months

(Shawn and Gus reconnect after Shawn returns to Santa Barbara, once Shawn finally decides to stop running)

[thespiritssaidso]

some people do it by the book (but i prefer to go by feel)

Summary: Shawn and Lassiter are undercover at a high-end resort where all visitors get their own private cabin. All the two need to do now is settle in — and chop up some wood to make a fire, of course. 

Notes: okay, so I’m basing this place off of the Big Cedar Lodge (I went there one year with my family on a road trip). I’m not sure if there’s a resort like it in California, but oh well. Currently as I’m writing this, it is 3 in the afternoon and the internet at my job is crappy and won’t let me look at maps without taking forever and a half to load it up. And if anyone knows me then they know that my patience is extremely limited (part of the reason why I’m only good at writing one shots lmao) and I don’t really feel like taking longer than necessary to make sure the made-up place I am writing for the made-up people to stay at actually exists. 

TL;DR this place exists in Branson, Missouri, but I’m too lazy to make sure a place like it also exists in California. 

Anyways, enjoy!! I know we all love a good Shassie at a cabin au.

Flufftober day 8: Chopping and Piling Wood

—————

Lassiter grunted as he swung his ax into the block of wood, chopping it neatly in two. He leaned over and tossed the half still sitting on the block and tossed it onto a small pile that was slowly building up. After throwing the other half onto the pile right after the first, he reached up and wiped a line of sweat beading on his forehead. 

Currently, he and Shawn were undercover as a married couple to investigate a few disappearances that were happening at the Great Pine Lodge. 

The place was as fancy as a cabin in the woods could get. Full plumbing, air conditioning for when it got hot, heaters for when it got cold, a large king size plush mattress complete with expensive feeling sheets and covers. And that was just the cabin. 

About a stone’s throw from where they were staying was a large beautiful lake, with water so clear Lassiter could almost see the bottom. 

The other cabins people were staying at were a decent distance from their own, close enough to see but not close enough to hear the inhabitants if they were inside. 

A paved road — not a gravel road — sat in front of the cabins, shuttle buses on speed dial on the rotary phone sitting on the bedside table inside, so that visitors wouldn’t have to waste their own cars’ gas to go to the dining hall, or the gift shop, or even the arcade (yes, this place had an arcade). 

Lassiter had always dreamed of going here one day. It was the perfect vacation spot for him and Shawn; fine dining, a beautiful view, activities the both of them would enjoy. 

But now was not the time for dreaming of a perfect vacation (although hopefully there’d be some time left for them to do so). Now was time for investigation. Or more aptly, chopping firewood, in Lassiter’s case. 

Before chopping another log, Lassiter stopped to reroll his sleeves that were slowly unraveling themselves. At the moment, all he was wearing was the button up he normally had on under his jacket, the pants to match said jacket, and his work shoes. He probably should’ve put a little more thought into his wardrobe. 

Too late. He’d committed and now he had to stick with it. Lassiter was just glad that Shawn was still unpacking inside. He was always self-conscious about his arms, how much of a stick he looked when he wasn’t wearing something loose — like his suit jacket. 

He looked at his biceps with disdain. It wasn’t like he was weak and couldn’t lift anything. His muscles just never showed unless he flexed them, hiding like some kind of sleeper agent, or whatever they were calling it nowadays. 

Whatever. So long as no one was here to see him make an idiot of himself trying to chop wood. Lassiter was eventually able to cut them into halves once he figured out a comfortable rhythm, but the start was just godawful. His first swing into the first log didn’t have enough weight behind it and was at an awkward angle, so it had bounced away from the wood and left only a small dent. His second swing was too strong and split right between the log and lodged itself into the chopping block. 

But he was better now, after cutting for what felt like hours, though realistically it had probably been thirty minutes. 

After placing another log down, Lassiter prepared to swing the ax once more when-

“That is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.” 

Lassiter nearly jumped out of his skin. There, leaning against the door was none other than his boyfriend. From what he could see, it looked like Shawn made himself a mug of something warm, judging by the faint steam emanating from it. Tea? Coffee? Hot cocoa? Probably the latter, knowing his boyfriend’s taste for sweet things. 

Lassiter felt the tips of his ears warm, and he knew they’d gone red. “How long were you standing there for?” 

“Ah, time is irrelevant-”

“Shawn.” 

“At least ten minutes.”

Ten minutes. Ten minutes of just watching him swing an ax at wood. Lassiter had no clue what he looked like when he was cutting wood, but he was probably ridiculous. Shawn had probably seen every mistake he’d made. 

Lassiter turned back around, doing his best to ignore the way Shawn was staring at him and lifted the ax once more. He swung with precision and split the log neatly. “Don’t lie, Shawn.” He said, referring to what Shawn had said that startled him. “You know I hate it-”

“What? No no no! Carly, I’m being serious! Look, this is my serious face.”

He didn’t look, not wanting to see his boyfriend who was most likely holding back laughter. He didn’t say anything either, simply returning to the task at hand. Although now he knew he had an audience, which somehow made swinging an ax ten times harder than it was originally. 

There was quiet, uncharacteristic for Shawn. Only the crunching of dead leaves and the swish of grass told Lassiter that he was walking over to him. 

“Back up. I don’t want to accidentally hit you with the-”

“Carlton, look at me. Lemme see those baby blues.” 

At the use of his name, Lassiter turned his head to Shawn. The lack of a nickname and his tone told the detective that he really was being serious. 

And he was right. Lassiter couldn’t remember the last time the otherwise childish man looked this serious about something. He said nothing as he looked into Shawn’s eyes, grass green grounding him. He dropped the ax, a dull thud breaking the quiet. 

“I love all of you, Carly. Doesn’t matter how much you hate it, I look and see you. I don’t see flaws, I see the sexiest body a man could ask for.”

Lassiter couldn’t help the grin, or the tiny laugh that bubbled out at the last thing Shawn said. “Alright, if you say so.” 

“I do say so, and my word is law. You should know this by now, Carlytown.” Shawn stated matter-of-factly. 

This time, Lassiter let out a snort at his boyfriend’s statement. “Is that right?”

“It is.” 

“Mhm. By the way, did you finish unpacking our stuff?” If his calculations were correct, Shawn had taken all of twenty minutes. And from past experience Lassiter knew that it took him at least an hour to get everything perfectly situated for the both of them. 

“We can do that later, I know you have a specific way you like to have your toothbrush set up. Right now there’s a suspect somewhere that’s begging to get caught.” 

“I’m not sure any criminal actually wants to get caught.”

“Really? Because I’m sensing they’re at the arcade right now, writing a secret message in morse code at the game where you have to shoot down those rubber ducks.” 

“Are they, or do you just want to go play games?” 

“That’s neither here nor there. Point is, I’ve already called a shuttle to pick us up and take us to the main building. They should be here in about… five minutes?” 

Lassiter stared at him incredulously. “Five- five minutes? And you’re only telling me this now because why?” That just barely left him with enough time to get out of his sweaty button up and into something clean. It was just the arcade, but he’d prefer to go out without smelling weird in public. 

“Well, I would have told you earlier, but I just couldn’t stop watching you chop that wood. Seriously, Carly, you have no idea how hot you looked swinging that ax.”

“I- alright, fine. Could’ve used more warning time, but it’s fine. Where’d you put my clothes?” 

“In the dresser on the left of the bed, everything’s in the top drawer.”

—————

Notes: yeah yeah yeah, the name of the place they’re staying at is just a rip from the place I based it off of. Sue me. 

oh and the title is a lyric in C'mon Girl by Red Hot Chili Peppers, i couldn't come up with an actual title by myself, sorry

ao3 link

[imposterzoe]

Thinking about Shawn Spencer with a gun.

Remember that one episode where he's in the backseat and shouts "Somebody give me a gun!" and Lassie and Jules both shout "No!"

....why?

This is Henry Spencer's son. The man who, at that point, has shown he can:

Analyze a room from a glance and find a criminal

Recreate entire crime scenes and scale models from memory off seeing them for less than two minutes

Save himself from someone dead set on killing him

They spend a whole episode (maybe the same episode from before idk) talking about the detective exam which he aced when he was 15

It's a known fact that the only reason he isn't a cop is mix of leftover teen angst, a hatred for order, and a flair for the dramatic

In the first fucking episode, we see him in a shooting range with Lassie's old partner (Doctor Amber Volakis who is fucking everywhere in the early 2000s' once you know her face). In that scene he looks at the target for all of 10 seconds.

He doesn't watch her shoot. He doesn't study the target. And in one tenth of the time it took her to make the shots, matches every one.

And because it's Shawn this is all after acting like he'd never held a gun before.

Obviously no one else is in this scene to see this but still. Shawn shoots a gun maybe twice more in the series but dude is skilled marksman.

Dude also only gets angry when innocent people and people he care about are in imminent danger.

My point is there should've been a scene where Henry Spencer, the person whose main interaction with his son was during survival and skills training, was held at gunpoint and utterly helpless.

Carlton Lassiter, the person with 10 guns hidden throughout his apartment, should hand his personal weapon to Shawn who at that moment has no visible emotion.

Shawn Spencer should walk into the building with no body armor, no plan, and no emotion.

And immediately get a head shot.

No conversation. No bargaining. Nothing.

He should then turn on his heel without even talking to his now blood-speckled father and walk back outside. Return Lassiter's gun. And deposit himself in the back of a squad car.

Or he should set up an NES in the precinct and fucking demolish everyone at Duck Hunt

Either one.

[mayatuks-catastrophe]

♡ im simply choosing not to continue ♡

[cintasfics]

Hear Santa Barbara, I swear it's calling me

pairing: carlton lassiter x oc

summary: a private case leads the three members of psych detective agency to a nightclub, where marley goes undercover as a dancer to find out more information. the head detective at sbpd enters the same club one night following a tip called into the station and is taken aback by what he sees.

wc: 3.6k

warnings: mentions of drugs and gun violence

a/n: bruh. this is the longest thing i've ever written and i smashed it out in a couple of days. this show has sunk it's claws into me big time. also please forgive the details of the case if it makes no sense, it was the thing i struggled with the most lol

Things had been slow going at the Psych detective agency lately. The residents of Santa Barbara seemingly on their best behaviour for the past two weeks, and while one would normally appreciate a low crime rate, fake psychics with unmedicated ADHD and nothing else to keep them occupied did not share the sentiment. The lack of crime meant a lack of cases, with Chief Vick responding to all his inquiries for work with a blanket ‘if we need you, we’ll call you. Goodbye Mr. Spencer.’

But things started looking up when a young woman came by the office seeking his services, explaining that she worked at a local nightclub as a dancer but was recently blacklisted after overhearing a tense conversation between the club manager and one of the bartenders. Not only that, but she had the feeling some of her fellow dancers were involved in something sketchy. She was sure it was something illegal, but she didn’t want to go to the police out of fear of facing repercussions and getting her friends in trouble.

During a busier week, Shawn would’ve dismissed the case outright as it initially appeared to be nothing more than an employment dispute, but she was insistent that there was more to it and it piqued his interest. The allure of the club and its dancers certainly helped sway him too, and so he called a staff meeting to discuss the plan.

‘If we’re going to find out more about what’s going on in this place, we need a man on the inside.’

Though she was suspicious of where this was going, Marley conceded to his point, ‘makes sense.’

‘And because we here at Psych detective agency believe in equal opportunity employment, I’ve decided that the best man for the job, as is in many such cases, is a woman,’ this attempt at ass-kissing was accompanied by a serene smile and clasped hands, an admittedly good impression of a CEO giving a press release.

And while this would’ve been received well by investors, Marley wasn’t buying it, ‘I don’t think so.’

‘Aww come on, Marls! It’ll be fun! And I’ve seen that stripper pole in your apartment, I know you’ll do great!’

‘My unquestionable talent isn’t the issue here, there’s a reason I only dance in the privacy of my own home. No way in hell I’m getting up on a stage in front of a club full of people!’

‘Don’t be like that, I’ve seen you let loose during nights out before!’

‘When I’m more than a few drinks deep sure! But I don’t think management would appreciate me showing up to work drunk, nor would it help me effectively gather information.’

‘I don’t know,’ Gus piped up from his desk, ‘you’re a lot more charismatic and chatty when you drink, so it could work in our favour.'

‘This is true, good point, Gus! Plus I'm sure the dancers indulge at least a little, employee discounts and all that.'

Still not convinced and feeling like she was being ganged up on, she went on the offensive, ‘why do I have to do this anyway? Why can’t you guys pretend to be a bartender or a DJ or something?’

Shawn seemed to mull this idea over for a second before his eyes lit up, ‘hey that’s not a bad idea, gives us something fun- I mean, productive to do while we check the place out.’

A fanciful expression slowly came over Gus’ face, followed by a smug smirk, ‘yeah. Yeah! That could work, I was known in high school for my killer playlists so I bet I could rock a DJ gig.’

‘Dude what? No,’ came Shawn's indignant reply, like the mere idea had insulted him, ‘people loved my playlists in high school, if anyone’s going to be the DJ it’s going to be me!’

‘You’re dreaming, Shawn! It’s not just high school either, my Spotify playlists get a ton of views and likes! Not to mention all the followers I have because they just can’t get enough of me!’

‘That’s only because I use your account so all my playlists are under your name, they’re all there for me not you!’

‘What do you mean you use my account? I’m the only one paying for it!’

Realising that this was going nowhere and they could be here all day if she didn’t intervene, Marley begrudgingly conceded to the plan.

‘Ugh! Fine! But if I’m doing this, I get a bigger commission because I’m doing a lot of legwork here!’

Pleased to hear this, not only because she agreed to his plan but also because her loud concession distracted Gus from his treachery, Shawn immediately turned his attention back to her.

‘Not to mention armwork, you know, because of the pole-‘

‘Shut up, Shawn.’

~}i{~

In order to prepare for going undercover, Marley met up with the client to get some advice and background information on the club and its staff. She wasn’t a real nightclub person so it took a bit of coaching to be able to act the part and maintain it for the duration of her shift, but the clients help was invaluable and with the added bonus of a fake resume, she quickly got the job.

The mid-morning peace of the Psych office the morning after her club debut was disturbed by the sound of the front door opening. The two men sitting inside raised their heads from their phones to see Marley enter the room nursing a cup of coffee with her eyes hidden behind her sunglasses.

‘Well, if it isn’t our own little Dita Von Tease! We were wondering when you’d roll in!’

Shawn’s boisterous greeting was met with a wince and a hiss that made Gus think of a vampire braving the light of day after a deep sleep, though he knew better than to voice that comparison. Marley could be downright scary when irritated.

‘Please lower your voice, I’m still waking up,’ Marley hissed, hoping for some grace.

‘Sorry,’ Shawn, having the same fear instilled in him, lowered his voice, ‘I’m just excited to hear how your first night went.’

She took a moment to situate herself on the couch by the window before responding.

'It went alright, the other girls were welcoming enough but I didn't get a chance to really talk to any of them,’ she paused to take a sip of her coffee, ‘but I did overhear one of the girls, Amber, having a pretty intense phone call. I asked another girl if she knew anything about it out of ‘concern’ and she said that Amber had a knack for getting herself in to trouble, always managing to find the wrong crowd, but that this was the worse she’d seen her.’

Gus, feeling it was safe to speak up now she had comfortably situated herself, asked the next question, ‘What was the phone call about?’

‘From what I could gather it sounded like she had some bad debts but that she had a plan to pay them back.’

Shawn and Gus shared a knowing nod and a pensive look, ‘they always do, but it rarely works out well.’

‘Kasey, one of the bottle girls, also let it slip that the relationship between Amber and Cole, one of the bartenders, is less than strictly professional.'

‘Oooh, scandalous~’ chimed in Shawn with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

‘But it’s still sounding like a case of a toxic work environment and personal dramas, which isn’t great but it’s not a crime,’ came Gus’ assessment.

‘Hmm, I don’t know,’ part of her agreed with Gus, but she just had a funny feeling about it all, ‘I mean that’s probably the case, but I think I’m gonna stick around for a bit longer, something doesn’t feel right. Maybe having you guys there as an extra set of eyes would help too.’

‘Hey, Marley, it’s okay,’ she turned to Shawn, drawn in by his serious tone, ‘if you’re really liking this job there’s no shame in admitting it. I’m sure you could cut back on your hours at the hospital, or split your night shifts between there and the club if you really wanted to.’

Tired from the late night and lacking the energy to berate him, Marley simply grabbed one of the throw pillows off the couch and spiked it at his head.

~}i{~

‘God I hate places like this.’

‘Are there any places you do like? And remember to keep a low profile, the chief isn’t sure if there’s anything to this tip suggesting suspicious activity but we’re better off just hanging back and seeing what we can find.'

‘I don’t need you telling me how to do my job, O’Hara.’

‘I’m not telling you how to do your job I’m just- Listen. Why don’t we just go over to the bar and see what we can get off the bartender?’

‘Fine by me.’

Juliet led the way to the bar, with Lassiter following close behind her trying to avoid the sea of dancers around them.

‘You’d think a place like this would be a fire hazard with the amount of people-‘ Lassiter’s tirade was cut short when Juliet came to a sudden stop in front of him, causing him to crash into her.

His demand to know what the hold-up was died in his throat at Juliet's bewildered words.

‘Is that Marley?’

‘Huh? Where?’

Lassiter quickly looked around, trying to spot the woman who had recently taken up a sizeable piece of real estate in his brain, though it would take an immense amount of torture to get him to admit it.

‘Over there, on the raised platform!’ she shouted over her shoulder, raising her voice both to be heard over the music and in disbelief.

Lassiter followed her direction and his mouth went dry.

There, on the raised platform just as his partner had said, was Marley. Though it took a second for his brain to process it was really her as she had just dipped into an inverted position on the chrome pole in the centre of the platform.

As she spun around and returned to an upright position, he was able to appreciate the sparkly little number she had on, the black fringe mesmerising and the glossy platform heels making her legs appear to go on forever, maybe even making them an equal height for once. Not that he minds her short stature, if he gave it more than a moments thought he might even realise that he found it cute. And though it would be nice to be a bit closer to her lips (just the thought of leaning down to reach is enough to make his back ache), the smile that graces them as she looks up at him from beneath her eyelashes makes the phantom pain truly non-existent. Plus, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t have thoughts of sweeping her up off her feet, a small thing like her would probably fit in his pocket, his to protect, to cherish and keep to himself-

‘Carlton!’

He was pulled from his train of thought by his first name, which is used sparingly enough to succeed in getting his attention when Juliet's repeated calls of ‘Lassiter’ failed.

He blinked a few times in quick succession to clear his mind and pursed his lips to try and regain some composure before responding, unsure if his mouth had been hanging open like some simpleton.

‘Yes?’

He was so focused on appearing composed that he didn’t notice the knowing smile on his partners lips.

‘I was just saying that knowing our track record, if one of the three musketeers is here then the other two can’t be far behind. I’m sure it’s no coincidence we’re both at a place of interest, and I doubt Marley would work at a place like this otherwise,’ her words were tinged with amusement, both at Lassiter’s reaction to seeing their friend/colleague dancing on the small stage, and at the feeling that once they ran into her accomplices the night would become a lot more interesting.

Her words made perfect sense to Lassiter, but he couldn’t help but think she belonged up there. Maybe in another life, if nursing didn't work out. Or is this how she paid off her student debt? He knew she worked while she attended university but he would've remembered if she ever mentioned that this was what she did. This plus the fact that if he’d never seen her here, the thought never would have crossed his mind because it seemed so out of character for the usually reserved woman.

Feeling he was beginning to get lost in his thoughts again, he shook his head and turned his back to the stage (as much as it pained him) to gather them.

‘You’re right, the tweedles have to be here somewhere sticking their noses where they don’t belong.'

Keeping an eye out for the troublesome duo (and as much as one on Marley as he could afford to without failing back into his previous train of thought), the detectives continued on their way to the bar. Though their search for the psychic and his assistant didn’t take long when they finally flagged down the bartender and were met with Gus’ friendly face.

‘Evening, what can I get y’all?’

His smile was so disarming and he played the part of a stranger so well that it took them both a second to react.

‘Gus?’

‘Guster?!’

The joint exclamations of his name seemed to snap Gus out of character and he immediately started fidgeting with a glass, knowing the jig was up, ‘uhh, h-hey guys! Fancy seeing you here, small world huh?’

Feeling a headache coming on the closer he got to Spencer, Lassiter rubbed his eyes and ground out ‘yeah, tiny.’

Torn between exasperation and amusement, not expecting to run into one of the guys so quickly, Juliet took the lead, ‘what are you doing here, Gus?’

‘Well, I figured with the rising cost of living it wouldn’t hurt to get a second job- third job, really- hard to believe the state of the economy nowadays, huh? Anyway, you two have fun and I’ll see you at the station the next time we get called in,’ trying his best not to act suspicious or give up the real reason he was here, Gus turned away intending to serve a club-goer on the other side of the bar where the duties of his job would keep him safe from the detectives’ questions.

‘Hold it!’

If only he could be so lucky.

The emotional rollercoaster this night was turning out to be relieved Lassiter of the last thread of his patience, ‘you expect us to believe that? That you and Marley just happen to both suddenly be working at a nightclub with reports of suspicious activity? Fat chance! Now where the hell is Spencer, I know he’s here somewhere!’

Gus tried one last Hail Mary, the ever-reliable act of playing dumb.

‘Wait, Marley’s here too?’

The glare he received from Lassiter was enough to change his tune.

‘Right, sorry. Last I saw Shawn he was leaving the DJ booth, in the middle of his set I might add, which if I got to be the DJ like I wanted to I would never do,’ the last part was laced with bitterness and the smug assurance that he would’ve remained professional where Shawn did not, but Juliet chose to ignore it, focusing on the matter at hand.

‘Which way did he go?’

‘Off to the left, through the employee only door, he might’ve been following someone but I’m not sure.’

‘Right, thanks Gus.’

Leaving the pseudo-bartender to his devices, Lassiter led the way to the door off to the side of the large room marked ‘employees only’, determined to figure out just what the hell was going on here.

~}i{~

The club was evacuated following some gunshots coming from the backrooms, with police cars arriving quickly outside. Having been a few days since the trio were first given the case, tensions within the club had finally risen enough to come to a head.

Not long after the two detectives made their way into the employee only section, they came across Shawn in the middle of a confrontation involving Amber, Cole, the manager, and a local drug supplier.

In his usual dramatic fashion, Shawn explained the situation to the detectives, telling them how Amber had fallen into some bad debts and went to her manager, a close friend of hers, for help. Having romantic feelings for the girl, the manager was quick to do whatever she asked, and with his connections from his time at the club, he worked out a deal to move some product through the place in order to ease her debts.

Cole, the bartender and Amber’s boyfriend, started catching on to the fact that something was up between the two, and feeling scorned, he called in a tip to the police station, hoping the cops would take care of the situation for him by punishing the both of them. The couples bad luck continued though, with the supplier becoming unhappy with the small amount of drugs being sold and coming down himself to see what the issue was. He, like the detectives, entered upon a tense situation, with the three employees having a shouting match.

The gunshots came when Cole lost his temper, blaming their manager for the trouble Amber was in, as well as the jealousy he felt, and attacked him. Not being in his right mind, the bullets missed their target and he was quickly subdued and all four of them taken into custody.

~}i{~

Having been corralled outside with the crowd, Marley missed the excitement and the big resolution of the case. She was standing on the sidewalk hugging her arms to her chest, trying to fight off the chill in the air while waiting to hear from the others, when she suddenly felt a piece of fabric fall over her shoulders. She clutched at the warm material to find a large suit jacket, a familiar scent filling her nose and its owner moving to stand beside her.

'Here. Don't want you to catch a cold,' he tried to play it cool, but there was an undeniable softness in the detective’s voice.

Though she shouldn’t be considering the situation, she was surprised by Lassiter’s sudden presence.

'Thanks, Lassie,' the small act of kindness as well as his close proximity warmed her better than the jacket ever could, 'my clothes are in the dressing room but I wasn't sure if I was good to go back inside yet.’

‘Well, we’ve apprehended the shooter and the three other people involved, but the rest of the staff will need to be questioned.’

‘Me included?’

‘The more information the better, but I can take your statement while you get your stuff.’

‘Thanks, Lassie,’ she thanked him again, knowing that the sooner she got her stuff the sooner she could leave and head home, ‘I appreciate it.’

He held out his arm for her to take, and seeing her raised eyebrow and silent question, explained the gesture, ‘the last thing we need is you tripping over in those heels and eating pavement on the way to the dressing room. I don’t really want to have to call for a medic on top of everything else,’ he gave the heeled boots in question a pointed look, appreciating her bare legs as his gaze travelled downwards.

He was right, by the way. The heels did bring them closer together in height. But what he didn’t anticipate with the change in height was the new details of her face it revealed to him. Her eyes weren’t just a deep brown, but contained different shades, like the bark of a strong tree that was hidden deep inside a forest, with sunlight shifting through the trees to highlight the different grooves and hidden shades. He also noticed for the first time the faint freckles smattered across her nose and cheeks.

Her airy laughter and warm grip on his forearm brought him back from another rogue train of thought, managing to catch it before it went completely off the rails.

‘God what is going on with me tonight?’

He cleared his throat and started to lead her back inside the club, hoping that his sanity would return once she was out of his coat, into her own clothes, and on her way home.

‘I don’t even know how you manage to dance in those things.’

His comment brought a blush to her cheeks, turning her gaze to the ground under the guise of watching where she was stepping, her words coming out with a shy laugh, ‘you saw that did you?’

‘Only a bit of it,’ he tried to hide how taken he was by the display by faking a tone of nonchalance, ‘my attention quickly turned to Guster behind the bar.’

‘Oh God, don’t even start on that,’ her embarrassment was quickly forgotten as she rolled her eyes at the mention of her friend and his assigned role, ‘who got to do what was a big fight between the two, I gave up trying to mediate as soon as it started getting physical. Honestly, it was like watching two children have a slap fight.’

The charged air between them cleared as Marley recounted the childish squabble between Gus and Shawn over who got to play the coveted role of DJ, her fondness for the two idiots evident in her voice.

A smile made it’s way onto the detectives face as he listened to her talk, and he spent the rest of the night basking in the faint scent she had left on his jacket.

[purpleskittlessuck]

i am begging for psych fic recommendations PLEASE. i will take anything. preferably h/c actually but still anything!!! i’m begging!!!!!

[loosethreadsofyoursoul]

what right does canon compliant shassie angst have to get to me like this. this is my silly little show with my silly little besties but they have the ability to hurt me so bad

[thedollopheadofcamelot]

I just realized a thing

This:

And this:

​(Anyway someone should make a Kurofai Psych AU of some kind or something with Detective Kurogane and pseudo psychic/psychic Fai…)

[philtstone]

for the kisses prompt: 25. kisses in the rain for shules because we never got a rain kiss and i think thats criminal

[phil voice] i dont have time to start an elaborate and ever growing kidfic series [immediately starts an elaborate and ever growing kidfic series] i was thinking about how rarely shawn and juliet spend significant time apart on the show and this emerged. timeline spans from just before 5x01 to post series, and title is from my enemy number one, aka deb talans "big strong girl". unfortunately i have yet to listen to that song or watch that scene without weeping uncontrollably into my hands. i promise they do actually kiss in the rain, it just takes a while to get there. enjoy!

title: come on, come on, lay it down

I.

City Hall is boring. 

This is Juliet’s big takeaway after day seven at her new assigned desk. The first few days are filled with a flurry of administrative logistics and the chasm of anxiety at the pit of her stomach that has nothing to do with the objectively mundane and benign desk work she’s voluntarily chosen to return to. 

Then, boredom. 

She blinks hard against the possibly terminal lazy eye she’s started to develop after her fourth hour of staring at backlogged paperwork and tries to refocus on the wall across from her. It’s red: this dark potent color that her mother would consider classy. Somehow in this building it looks beige. Beige is a good bland shade, kind of like what a blank mind might look like. Metaphorically. Juliet’s new therapist is all about combating blank minds and working with metaphors. She’d suggested a meditation exercise last week. What’s a place that makes you feel safe? Picture it in your head. Imagine the textures and smells and sounds.

Brring.

She startles, looking down at the office landline in front of her.

Brring.

Juliet picks it up. “Hello?”

“Jules!”

Her eyes drop back down to the paperwork. “Hi Shawn,” she says.

As he begins his prattling, Juliet picks up her pen and doodles a dog on a stray post-it note. She’d buried her personal cell deep into her purse as some kind of weird defense against the outside world, but it’s oddly comforting that Shawn somehow knows the office phone number anyway. From her spot at the desk she can see far enough into the lobby that the big glass doors for entering the building are visible. It’s raining pretty torrentially outside. People come and go all the time, and Juliet comes in the morning and goes in the evening, but it kind of feels like she doesn’t. Shawn hasn’t actually come around to visit her yet, at this new job. Juliet tells herself she doesn’t mind. He needs his own time and space, just like she needs hers, and it’s only been a week that she’s been back at work, anyway.

A week during which he’s called her five times in as many days. They mostly talk about nothing.

“Tell me you were thinking about donuts.”

“I wasn’t.”

“That’s too bad, cause I got you one. Also! Italian food. Here’s the thing — yes, salads are fine and good, sometimes tasty even, but nothing beats a panini on a Thursday.”

“Shawn, it’s Wednesday.”

“Is it really? Well, that puts a damper on our plans.”

Read the rest on ao3!

[typicalopposite]

shassie | T | chapter one 2,744 words

read it on ao3

summary: The color blue never used to mean much; lately it’s all Shawn seems to be able to think about. Blue skies, blue oceans, blue(berry) cars — like the one he’s sitting in fantasizing about a pair of blue, blue, blue eyes.

Let me start with I never ever EVER do this! But there was quite a nice response to me writing this sooo I’m gonna tag the people who seemed interested in reading it👀👀

@pineapple-psychic @river-lawrence @shawnaise @autism-criminal @starfish-spencer @obsidiancreates @notnickel @thegroundhogdidit @foldingthepage @acemonsterfudger @marieonhold @boozy-the-ghost @city-of-all-tunas @zombified-duck @iknowyouknowimnottellingthetruth @mores0 @vixiak @okiedokieletsgo @psyxhic-angels @therearenonamesthatarenttaken @brookiedaaroacecookie @tigertronn @lil-obsessed @nigellica @sweetsfandomcorner @lady-jarnsaxa @realtwilightsparkle

I think that was all of them!!! I am so sorry if you don’t like being tagged just let me know😮‍💨 I am now tired!