A/N: So, I've been on a seriously bad Psyche kick…and just fell in absolute, head over heels love with Lassie. Those eyes, man…*sigh*…anyway, I hope you will all read and review, I would love some feedback on this. And, as always, please enjoy!

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except a gremlin. :)

"You do realize that you've lost your ever-loving mind?"

Clear grey met sharp brown over the rim of a Washington Redskins mug. A dark eyebrow quirked before the mug tipped further up, the mocha within drained. It was set down with a sigh before slender fingers steepled, the swivel chair squeaking as its occupant's weight shifted forward.

"You're just figuring that out, Mac?"

Mac shook her head, the short brown bob of her hair swishing against her neck. The twist of her lips morphed into an exasperated sigh as the grey irises didn't waver, throwing up her hands.

"Fine. Fine, Felicity! Go! Go listen to what this woman has to say, which, I will point out, is going to be the exact same line as every other police department in the state has given you, and which you will tactfully, politely, decline. You'll come back, open a bottle of Merlot, bitch to me about the pomposity of law enforcement in general, and then finally, you'll collapse on the couch, let me put in the Herculoids, and we'll have a mind-numbing four hour marathon that ends at six in the morning with you dangling half off the couch and your foot tickling my face. By the way, you need to start wearing hose."

Felicity's lips twitched, but she hid her amusement fairly well as her friend went from finger pointing, to hand gestures, to violent shakes of her head, and back to finger pointing. Felicity unsteepled her own digits and burrowed them in the long dark ringlets of her hair as she propped her head against her palm. Her eyes narrowed, eyelashes fluttering exaggeratedly.

"I am very much wearing hose today, thank you, and I believe…that you are now done ranting?"

Mac scoffed, her pert nose wrinkling briefly before her eyes met those of her best friend of the last twenty years. The silent staring spoke volumes, and stretched out into several minutes, eventually broken by a frustrated breath huffed from glossy pink lips.

"Really? You pulled out the vuju to tell me that?"

Felicity tried to hide her amusement by tipping her mug back against her lips, but Mac's ludicrously doubtful expression only served to make her snort hollowly into the empty cup. Then their lips were curving into grins, laughter beginning to escape in loud bursts of snickering, and finally giggles. When they had sobered somewhat, Mac tilted her head and leaned back in her chair, her arms folding.

"So you're really gonna go?"

Felicity nodded, grabbing the thin crème headband that matched her pearl-button blouse, smoothing back her untidy curls into some semblance of order. Mac rolled her eyes again and stood from the small, round kitchen table.

"Forget I asked. I'll start chilling a bottle for when you get home."

Felicity rose as well, tugging at the hem of her black skirt.

"I could accept this time, you know."

Mac glanced at her over her shoulder, skepticism written all over her pretty features.

"And frogs could grow wings and stop bumping their asses when they hop, but we don't see any feathers floating on lily pads, do we?"

Her friend snorted again as she padded towards the back door, grabbing her small shoulder bag, keys and wiggling her feet into the low heels she'd borrowed from Mac. Wincing as her toes pinched together painfully in the shoes, Felicity turned back to her best friend and roommate, her hand on the doorknob.

"You know you're a peach right?"

"Yeah, yeah, you just love me for my body."

"It's one of the best pillows I've ever slept on."

She ducked out of the door before the bunch of grapes her friend had been munching on ruined her outfit.

Felicity politely inquired to the Sergeant at the desk on where she could find Chief Vick's office. He was a slightly older man, balding and possessing an impressive paunch. He rose from behind the desk with a genial smile.

"I'll show you to her, ma'am. She expectin' you?"

She nodded with a pleasant smile.

"Yes, sir, Sergeant, I have an appointment."

"Ah," he didn't say much else as he led her through the bullpen of the station, other than to ask, "If you don't mind me askin', what accent is that?"

She chuckled softly, her blazer hanging over her arm as she followed him.

"Ever hear of a little town called Charleston?"

His thick brows furrowed where they squatted above a ruddy face and tiny brown eyes.

"Oh yeah, some old place down in Georgia, right?"

She smiled sardonically and shrugged.

"I suppose that's close enough."

They reached the door and he gestured. She thanked him with another smile and a nod before knocking on the door firmly. An affirmative greeted her through the solid wood and she opened it to step through. A woman sat behind a large desk, her hand busily moving as a man with closely cropped hair sat in the chair across from her, one hand braced against his cheek, index finger deepening the craggy wrinkles of his face. Neither of them looked up until Felicity cleared her throat. There was a flash of sharp, light eyes and a cordial smile as the Chief stood and offered her hand over the desk.

"Ms. Sawyer?"

"Chief Vicks, a pleasure," she answered, taking the other woman's hand in a firm handshake.

The impression she received from the brief contact was positive, and surprisingly maternal. A vision of an energetic little girl with blonde hair and a soft purple flower raced past her mind's eye, along with a solid looking man who was smiling tenderly. It was followed by a gun and the scent of oil and leather. Felicity clasped her hands in front of in order to resist the urge to rub the strong odors from her nose.

"Thank you for coming. This is Mr. Spencer, our Consultant Advisor."

Felicity gave him the same warmly polite smile, taking his hand as firmly as she had the Chief's. Flashes of a young man with brown hair and a mischievous, boyish grin filled her vision, along with an attractive blonde woman with a fierce intelligence that was a little intimidating. Then it was the same bullpen that she had just crossed, only clearly in a different era. The smell of cars, water, and more gun oil was hot on its heels. Oh, she really was going to need to spend a lot of time in her bathtub with her scented candles tonight.

"Good to meet you, Mr. Spencer."

"Likewise, Ms. Sawyer."

Then the Chief gestured behind Felicity to the only other free chair in the office. Felicity accepted the offer gratefully, Mac's heels already killing her. Holding her bag in her lap, she folded her fingers together demurely, leaning back comfortably. She glanced between them, noting the small twitch of Spencer's eyebrow towards Vick. Tucking her legs to the side in just the way her grandmother had drilled into her, Felicity lifted her chin a little.

"Now, how can I be of service to you?"

The Chief laced her fingers on the desk, leaning forward with a probing look.

"Ms. Sawyer, as I'm certain you read in our correspondence, based on our department's remarkable rise in solved cases, we have been…encouraged, to expand our pool of consultants."

The Chief glanced briefly down at a file that was currently open on her desk, touching on the papers that it contained.

"I've looked over your record, Ms. Sawyer, and I'll admit that it's seems rather impressive. Over thirty cases solved based almost exclusively on information that you provided. Several police chiefs that I've talked to, including those in San Francisco and Los Angeles, have spoken very highly of you. Frankly, I'm at a loss as to why you haven't started offering your services professionally."

Felicity bit back the sigh that wanted to escape past her lips. It was a simple answer really; because every time she provided help, she was brushed off like Velma from Scooby Doo. Yes, they all had something warm and fuzzy, glowing even, to say about her to the news, to other departments, but she would still get looks when she walked into a precinct with what she'd seen.

Seeing no point in dancing around the issue, Felicity tilted her head, her pleasant smile fading into a brisk frown.

"Chief, if you walked into this precinct every day and gave your people orders that you knew to be the right call, and they either ignored you or outright laughed, how much longer would you do it before you lost your temper or simply stopped altogether?"

Vick blinked, clearly taken aback by the younger woman's bluntness. To her credit, she recovered quickly, inclining her head.

"I—can see your point, Ms. Sawyer. Is that why you haven't attempted to assist in another case for the last two years?"

"Yes. I've had some calls asking for assistance in that time, but I've turned them down."

Spencer also leaned forward, his forearms coming to rest on his thighs as he regarded her with a calculating look in his bright blue eyes.

"Then why did you agree to meet with us if you have every intention of turning us down?"

Her gaze cut across to him with a crooked smile. A straight to the point man, she could get along with.

"Have you ever been to the Southeast, Mr. Spencer?"

His brows furrowed for a moment, but he shook his head slightly.

"Can't say I have, Ms. Sawyer."

She chuckled.

"Then let's just say that politeness is a requirement more so than a life choice."

He flashed her a grin in return.

"Fair enough."

Chief Vick closed the file and then raised her eyes again to meet Felicity's.

"Then I believe that we're done here."

"I suppose we are. I apologize if I've wasted your time," she replied, standing and shaking both their hands again. She was certainly looking forward to that bath.

"Not at all. We appreciate that you came down."

Vick led her to the closed door of her office and Spencer opened it for both of them. Felicity was exchanging a few more pleasant words with them, her back to the scattered desks. She managed to keep a grimace off her features as the edges of the pumps dug into the tender flesh of her feet. She said her goodbyes and turned towards a blissfully quiet night.

Fate has a very funny way about it. Many people will tell you that it has the timing of an elderly man rocking forward at just the moment that the cat's tail flicks beneath the chair. Others will say that it's like getting punched in the stomach by the realization that your life is going to change forever and that it's for the best. At that moment, as Felicity's ankle twisted painfully and made her lurch forward into something solid, and remarkably warm, she would have just probably shot Fate if she'd known that ballsy bastard had had a hand in what was about to happen.

Hot liquid was scalding her chest and arms, making her hiss in a pained breath with a colorful curse. A louder one echoed her own somewhere over her head.

She looked up and was immediately struck by the brightest, bluest, hardest eyes she'd ever seen. Thick salt-and-pepper hair curled just above a ferociously starched collar, and she noted a crooked nose that was set above full lips that were currently pulled back in a snarl. If looks could kill, she thought distractedly.

"Where the hell were you going?"

"Sorry, sorry, Detective," she murmured, her senses in overdrive as she steadied herself against the convenient column to her right. A whirlwind was happening around them, one only she could feel, and the force of it was enough to almost knock her off her feet. Oh, Christ, that only meant...

The dark slashes above his eyes furrowed together as he grabbed a stack of papers off the desk at his hip, setting down his mug and wiping frantically at the stain that was swiftly forming.

"Do I know you?"

She ignored the question, feeling like her eyes were about to pop right out of her skull, the energy coming off him in waves almost beyond belief. Her legs felt like jello and she lifted a hand to her forehead in a pitiful attempt to stave off the massive headache that was threatening to beat her senseless.

Chief Vick was suddenly at her elbow. "Ms. Sawyer, are you alright?"

Not trusting her voice just then, she only nodded, closing her eyes a moment. When she opened them again, she managed to smile weakly, rubbing a hand across her forehead.

"Yes...yes, Chief, I'm alright, thank you for asking."

The detective was still grumbling under his breath as Felicity pushed off from the wall. Chief Vick cleared her throat loudly, drawing angry blue eyes towards her. She gave him a warning glance.

"Detective Lassiter, this is Ms. Felicity Sawyer. Ms. Sawyer, thi-"

"Detective Carlton Lassiter, Head Detective of this department, rank Captain. On the force ten years, divorced, partner of Detective Juliet O'Hara. Hates squirrels, has a mind-boggling fear of snow globes, is a Civil War enthusiast, a stickler for rules, prefers to let his gun do more talking than he does...and he's allergic to mint."

The words poured out of her mouth without her having much control over them, her voice sounding far away, and tired. Noting the dead, awkward silence around her, Felicity straightened as a flush crept into her cheeks.

"Um, sorry, again, I can't always help it when I get...jarred like that. Sometimes what I see just gets...um, startled, from me." It was the best explanation she had, but from the looks she was getting, she really just wanted to melt into the wall. Why couldn't she have inherited that kind of ability instead?

Thankfully, the Chief came to her rescue, glancing to Detective Lassiter.

"Ms. Sawyer is a clairvoyant, Detective, she receives visions through touch."

Lassiter's sneer only deepened as he rolled his eyes, still wiping at his shirt.

"Oh, God, that's all we need, another charlatan like Spencer prancing around the precinct."

With her nerves more than already frayed by the psychic tornado that had just torn through her like a freight train, Felicity was feeling less than tact, or patient, at that moment. Her back went ramrod straight, her hands clenched at her sides, and her eyes flashed.

"You took the Chief here to the hospital to have her daughter, Isis, when you went into labor on the way to light weapon's training. You have a sword hanging on the wall in your living room, directly across the way from your television, that has a bronze plaque with your name on it and that it is extremely important to you. You shot a giant Donut humanoid statue three times before it landed on a bright blue Echo in a very misguided attempt to protect three other individuals that you consider to be friends, and if that isn't enough, you recently broke off some kind of relationship with a woman who was in prison for a crime you never believed she committed."

Something behind his eyes shuttered closed at that moment, and Felicity knew right then that she'd made a critical mistake with this man. Whether she genuinely had an ability or not was now moot, because she had brought up information that was not for anyone's ears, especially not his. It was the equivalent of raking sand through a bloody gash in your arm and Felicity almost apologized for it.

Almost.

"That is information that you could have dug up on your own with enough time and patience," he growled, his voice low as he took a step towards her, but she wasn't going to back down now.

"What reason would I have, Detective?" she shot back, tilting her head back to keep eye contact.

"Oh, I don't know, why don't we list them? To make an impression, get hired on to work with one of the most prestigious departments with one of the most keen detectives on the force, to make anyone believe that those cockamamie powers like Spenser claims are real for money, fame. Maybe you've just been stalking me for God knows how long, maybe in some misguided attempt to get a date?"

Her eyes narrowed to slits, the venomous sarcasm in his tone making her feel like a cat with her hackles raised, but before she could give the scathing retort that was burning the tip of her tongue, the Chief spoke up.

"Detective," her voice rang out with an authoritative crack, "that's enough."

Felicity drew in a deep breath, choosing to ignore the urge to snarl. Instead, she exhaled calmly and turned serene grey eyes to Spenser and Chief Vick. God, but she wished she could just bite right through her tongue so she didn't have to say this.

"Chief, if that position is still available to me, it would be my pleasure to accept."

When she came back to the house that afternoon, Mac was already in her deep purple pajamas, sprawled across the couch with a huge bowl of dry cereal and a box of tissues near at hand. Felicity's mood lifted considerably.

"Lifetime movies again? You have got to get a man, doll face," she quipped, tugging off her blazer and kicking off those blasted shoes with a happy groan.

"Yeah, all tear jer-what the hell happened to your blouse?"

Felicity hummed out a questioning sound as she strode down the hall towards her room and Mac repeated the inquiry, louder so that she could be heard. Felicity carefully hung up her jacket, then started to unbutton her shirt.

"Come in here while I change," she called out and heard her friend's heavy footfalls, followed by a soft creak as she leaned against the doorjam.

"Was it as bad as usual?"

"Worse, actually."

"Well, I can kind of see that, which, by the way, you haven't told me about?"

Felicity tugged open the top drawer of her dresser after tossing the blouse onto her bed. Pulling on a faded blue t-shirt, she shimmied out of her skirt and rolled down her hose to toss them in the waste basket near the doorway. She reached for a pair of sleep shorts and tied the string snuggly.

"A fella spilled coffee on me when I ran into him."

Mac's brows drew together suspiciously.

"What fella?"

Felicity looked up before running a hand through her dark locks with a heavy sigh.

"Fate."

Mac blinked.

"Fate?" she sucked in a breath, her brown eyes widening. "Wait, you're not telling me that you accepted-"

"Yes, yes I did," Felicity answered, cutting her off as she moved past Mac and back into the living room.

"Have you gone off the frickin' deep end!?"

"Probably."

She plopped onto the couch and grabbed a handful of cereal. Mac let out her own sigh as she sank into the cushion beside her roommate, one hand massaging her temple. Finally, after several heartbeats she looked up, worry and resignation clear in her face.

"You're sure?"

Felicity tapped at her temple as she pressed the power button on the remote control, Gloop and Gleep chittering at Igoo in bright, neon sixties remastered color.

"Let me put it this way. Fate is the only damned thing that would hit a woman that hard and still have the thrice-damned balls to make a date with her. And unfortunately, it's not the kind of date I can stand him up on."