Carlton Lassiter - Carlton to his friends, Lassie only to those who wanted to get shot - rubbed his temples with exasperation. "Alright, can you repeat that for me, sir?"

"My Abigail has been stolen!" He appeared on the verge of tears, and Carlton took a few steps back in case there was any ideas for him to comfort the distraught man.

"And Abigail is…"

"A blow-up doll!" Carlton glared at the one-way mirror from behind which he was sure someone was sniggering.

"Yes." He looked down at the case file he held, more for something to do than any lapse in memory. "Dressed as a 'wench', is that correct?"

"That's her! It was for a special display in our shop. David, a male doll, was next to her, but he wasn't touched. How soon can you find her?" The man was now sitting bolt upright, desperation in his tone.

"This isn't exactly our jurisdiction…" Tears welled up in the eyes of the middle-aged man, and Carlton continued hastily, "But we'll see what we can do."

He hurried out of the room, feeling vaguely dirty as the man tried to thank him effusively.

"O'Hara!"

Officers were ducking into rooms as he passed, or finding their own shoe laces incredibly fascinating in an effort to avoid his furious gaze.

"Yes, Lassiter?" Juliet's tone was dulcet sweet, and she pushed blonde hair behind her ears as she looked up in an impressive display of feigned innocence. "How did that interview go? I've been doing that report you ordered me to, I hope you didn't have too much trouble with my victim."

Lassiter winced lightly. "It has come to my attention that maybe you should have him back and I should do the paperwork on the Henderson case."

"But I'm almost finished. It would really be a more efficient use of time if you finished the interview yourself." Her fingers tapped on the edge of her keyboard as she spoke, long pink nails acting like a metronome for the conversation.

Carlton sighed, and grudgingly added the one thing that would make her forgive him. "Please?"

Ire instantly forgotten, Juliet beamed at him. "I suppose we could get Shawn in here, see if he can divine anything. It's weird actually… there have been several things stolen today and all out of the ordinary."

Normally, this would be the point he would protest the inclusion of that pseudo-psychic charlatan, but an ominous glint in O'Hara's eyes suggested that any dismissal of her ideas would lead in inventive revenge until he apologised properly. Despite what his ex-wife may think, he could be trained, so he merely contented himself with saying, "What kind of things?"

"Uh…" She looked at a list sitting at her right hand, "A lilac bandanna and box of chocolate coins from Smiling Bob's Emporium, a green and red parrot named Squawky from a pet store on the corner of Vine and Heron, and a children's playhouse shaped like a ship from Eden's Gardening Paradise. The really odd thing is that money was always left on the counter equalling the exact value of the products."

Lassiter looked at his file. "Seems they were left at the, you know, shop too."

"The sex shop?" Her tone held nothing but dry amusement, and Carlton thanked the years of training which meant his ears only turned a light pink rather than fire-engine red.

"Yeah. That."

"So, we have a wench, a bandanna, a parrot, and a ship. What does that add up to?"

"Pirates?" The detectives turned around to see Buzz McNabb's open, honest face beaming down at them. "It is 'Talk Like A Pirate' Day, after all. Or was I wrong?" His expression changed from helpfully cheerful to guiltily terrified. "Is this a test? Again? Oh man, I don't mean to keep failing your tests Detective Lassiter sir."

Juliet and Carlton exchanged glances. "No McNabb," Carlton said slowly, "You didn't fail this time. Not bad."

"Thank you sir!" He bounced slightly on the spot, looking like a Labrador that had just been pet. "Can I go now? I have to meet Francine for lunch."

"Off you go, then." Lassiter waved him away. That much earnestness in one place gave him the heebie-jeebies.

"Alright, I'll call Shawn." Juliet smiled sweetly, and reached for her cellphone.

"Arr, there be no need for yer silly telephonic devices, milady! I be here, with me landlubber companion, Matey von Fishpants." The psychic sailed in on a wheeled ship, arms spread wide and pirate hat perched jauntily on his head.

"Really, Shawn? They already know my name!"

"Hush, Matey. Also, my name is Captain Salty McSalterson, and don't you forget it."

"Like I could forget it Shawn. You used your label maker to cover everything in our office with "Property of Captain Salty McSalterson'."

"Indeed I did Matey, indeed I did." He reached out with a label and pasted it firmly on Lassiter's head. "And now this seadog belongs to me also. I would call you Rover, only I feel very strong vibes that being called Lassie is more your niche."

"Shawn, is that a blow-up doll?"

"It might be."

Carlton finally managed to look away from the one-man (or two, if you counted Gus) theatre to the doll leaning against the ship's mast. "Spencer, you will return that to it's rightful owner."

"Firstly, my name is not Spencer. And if it were, I still wouldn't return her to anyone. She has a free spirit, like an untamed…" He turned to Gus and whispered loudly, "What's something that's hard to tame?"

"A horse?" Gus attempted.

"You can tame horses easily. Everyone does it."

Gus grabbed his arm. "Not true, Shawn. Most horses have to be brought up from foals for them not to be completely wild. A horse is a valid contribution."

Lassiter cleared his throat loudly.

"She has a spirit as free as an untamed thing!" Shawn finished, glaring at Gus, who was still making his case for a horse.

"Just return the stuff, Shawn. The other shop owners don't really care, because you paid full price, but give back the wench." Juliet attempted to reason with the deranged man.

"Fine. As long as I get someone else to cuddle."

There was silence in the squad room.

"What, no one?" Shawn asked plaintively.

Gus snatched the doll off him and handed it to Juliet, and the two of them marched off to apologise.

"Jules? Gus? It's been a while since we've had a good snuggle." He pouted. "At least there's always you, Lassie."

"Not while you're dressed like a pirate, Spencer." Lassiter turned away. "And I'm never going to call you Captain!"