Chapter 1: The Joys of Being Single, Not

Notes: It's funny where inspiration comes from. I was listening to a rather disturbing song, Closer by Nine Inch Nails and this story was born. So the title comes from there. This story will get increasingly darker, so be forewarned. Thanks to all my Psychfic friends for their help with this.

Juliet sighed as she waited for the coffee to finish brewing. She had to put on a fresh pot when she arrived at the station this morning. When it was done, she grabbed her mug and drank up the much needed caffeine. Last night had been fun, but she was going to be paying for it today. She had gone out on another date with Roger Nelson. He was a nice enough guy and fairly good looking. He was tall, about six feet, two inches, dark brown hair, with dark brown eyes. She liked the guy; he was definitely her type, and the kind of guy she should be falling for. He was also smart, had a decent sense of humor, responsible, had a respectable job as an accountant, but there was no spark, no chemistry. Frankly, he bored her to tears. His jokes weren't funny enough. His conversations were boring, and the dates were unimaginative. What happened to her? What was this standard that she was holding him to? Now was not the time to think about that and all the possible implications. She needed to dump him, well let him down easy. She hated that. What could she say? Sorry, you're great, but I'm no longer into boring guys. It's not you, it's me.

She pushed aside the thoughts about her love life when her partner, Carlton Lassiter arrived at his desk. She chuckled to herself when she was tempted to say, "Morning, Lassie." Instead she went with her usual, "Morning, Carlton."

He looked down at her as he set his coffee mug on the desk and took off his jacket. "O'Hara," he said and nodded slightly.

"It might just be a good day," she thought. She could just about judge her partners mood by how he responded to her morning greeting. Her name in any form meant, he was in a decent mood and it might be a good day. A grunt would be a rough one, but manageable. If he started ranting, she would find a place to hide for the first two hours until he calmed down. This theory would all be voided if a certain police consultant arrived any time before, well, any time that day.

She felt she knew her partner reasonably well, but his next words surprised her. "So, how was your date?" he asked. She looked at him like he'd just lost his mind. It was such an unCarlton-like thing to say.

"It was okay. Nothing spectacular," she answered.

"Well, they all can't be winners. Do you have the McGinty file?" She grinned. He was just trying to make conservation.

She searched through her pile of paperwork, "Yes, here it is."

He accepted it and sat down, "Thanks."

Around lunch time, their quiet work time was interrupted by, "Where are my two favorite detectives?" She tried very hard not to grin, but it was near impossible when she heard that voice, especially in that wise-ass tone.

Lassiter whispered, "Damn, there goes one good day."

As he approached their desks, she said, "Hi, Shawn."

"Jules, you're looking as lovely as ever. You too, Lassie. Love that tie."

"Spencer, what could you possibly want?" Lassiter asked.

"Gus is working at his other job, so I thought I'd see if you two were working on anything I could assist you on," before Carlton could interrupt, he continued, "and if not, let's do lunch. We never just hang out anymore." Sometimes, she just enjoyed watching the psychic talk, especially when he was trying to get a rise out of her partner. Other times it was annoying, but not today. He could be so annoying, but he was never boring. She shook away that thought.

"When did we ever hang out?" Lassiter said.

"That time in the bar," Shawn started.

"Shawn, the case load's fairly light right now, but lunch sounds," she stopped when she noticed Roger at the receptionist's desk with a bouquet of pink roses. She paled. She saw Shawn turn to see what had got her attention. He turned back toward her.

"You know him," he asked a combination of curiosity and was that jealously she heard. She ignored it. She needed to deal with one situation at a time.

"Umm, yes. We've gone out a couple of times. Excuse me," she said as she walked over to meet him. She saw Carlton smirking at Shawn's astonished look.

Then she heard, "Spencer, I am not going to lunch with you. Just leave."

Roger saw her approaching, "Juliet, I hope you don't mind me stopping by." He placed a hand on her shoulder and kissed her lightly on the cheek. "Oh, and these are for you," he said and held up the flowers as he bowed. She blushed at the hushed chuckling the move elicited. She didn't take the roses.

"Roger, this isn't the best time. It would have been better if you called first. Let's talk outside," she said as she grabbed his arm and moved him outside.

Once they were on the sidewalk outside the station, he said, "You're upset. I screwed up."

"Roger."

"It's just, I've never meet a girl like you before."

"Roger."

"So sweet, beautiful, and with a dangerous job."

"Roger, stop," she just about yelled. He looked her in the eyes.

"Sorry. Oh, these are for you," he said and handed her the flowers.

She chuckled, "Roger, thank you. The roses are lovely, but."

He smiled until she said but. "Oh no, here it comes."

"This is my place of business. I've worked really hard to get these guys to respect me," she said.

"And I came in and ruined all that."

"No, you didn't ruin it. I just, well, I try to keep my work life and my personal life as separate as possible," she said. Part of her brain yelled, "You keep thinking that."

"That makes sense. I am truly sorry, my lady," he said and kissed her hand. "Can I still interest you in having lunch with me?"

She sighed. It was now or never, might as well get it over with. "Roger, you're really a sweet guy, and any girl should be happy to date you."

"You're dumping me?" Roger said.

"I just don't think it would work out," she said, taken back by his rising tone.

"I make one mistake and that's it. It's over."

She was stunned by this sudden mood change and she felt more than a little uncomfortable when she heard the hostility in his voice.

"Is everything okay, Detective O'Hara?"

She turned to see Shawn standing behind her with an expression she never remembered seeing before, anger. "Yes, Mr. Spencer. We're fine. Roger was just leaving."

"Yes, I was," he said yanking the flowers from out of her hand. She turned back toward him stunned. When she saw Shawn take a step toward Roger, she put her hand on his chest to stop him.

"Let him go, I'm fine," she whispered to him. He growled as Roger stormed off.

"What a freaking jerk," Shawn said.

"Come on, I'll get my bag and you can treat me to lunch."

"If I treat, is it a date?" he asked with a smirk.

"Forget it, I'll treat," she said, but that got a bigger smirk. She laughed, "We'll buy our own lunches. No date."

"Fine, your loss," he said jokingly as they headed back inside.

Her lunch hour had been a blast and she thoroughly enjoyed it. They went to Shawn's favorite Jamaican restaurant for jerk chicken and Gus met them there. The three of them laughed, talked and joked all through it. Her favorite part was when Shawn made Gus explain his theory about alien intervention in the Egyptian pyramids. Gus smacked Shawn and told him to shut up. She got Gus to explain it to her anyway and she tried very hard not to laugh. She forgot all about the Roger fiasco thanks to the two of them. Afterwards, she drove Shawn back to the station to get his bike.

"Thanks. That was fun," she said as she headed up the stairs to go inside.

"Anytime, I mean that Jules, anytime. You're hungry at two a.m., all alone in your bed or the shower and you..." He stopped as she turned around and walked back down the steps.

"Why would I be in the shower at two a.m.?" she asked, pretending to be slightly annoyed.

"I don't know. That's where you are, when I, um forget it. Let's do this again some time, Jules," he said and jogged off to his motorcycle. She laughed and walked inside.

She entered the station in the middle of some sort of argument. No, it was a little one-sided, Lassiter ripping into a rookie. The rookie was about three inches shorter than Lassiter, with blond hair and a muscular build. He must have been with the new class because she didn't recognize him. Lassiter had a large coffee spot on his white dress shirt and the rookie looked paler than the white part of the shirt. "Did you even look to see where you were going, Miller?" Lassiter bellowed.

"Sir, I am so sorry. I swear I didn't mean to run into you. The Chief really needed that report right away," Miller mumbled. Juliet walked up to Lassiter.

"Carlton, you need to get some water on that stain if you want it to come out," she said gently. He stared at the rookie for a minute, and then looked at her.

"Yeah, you're right. Be careful next time, Miller," he said before he headed off to the bathroom.

"Ma'am, you are an angel. Thanks for the rescue," Miller said.

"You're welcome, Officer Miller," she said.

"Please call me, Cole. May I ask you your name?" he said politely. She was captivated by his blue eyes with the gold rim around the iris. He was probably about twenty years old, and he was trying to flirt with her.

"You can call me Detective Juliet O'Hara and you're welcome, Officer. Watch where you're walking next time, okay?"

"I will, Detective." She nodded and headed back to her desk.

Around five o'clock, Lassiter told her to pack it in for the night. She smiled, grabbed her purse, and headed out to her car. She stopped as she approached it. Stuck between the windshield wiper blade and the windshield was a pink rose and a note attached to it. She pulled out the flower to read the note, "You are pure, an untainted beauty. My passion burns only for you, sweet Juliet." She shook her head.

"That's odd," she said and she threw it in her car. She'd try to figure out who it was from when she got home. Soon the car was speeding off, with the driver not realizing that the person who left it there was still watching her.

He stood in the parking lot of the Santa Barbara Police Station, walking toward his car pretending he couldn't find his keys. It was good that no one paid attention to him much anyway. He ducked behind a large truck to gaze upon her lovely face. He watched as she fingered the rose and the note. Long blond hair flowed over the petite soft shoulders accenting an attractive slender figure. She was beautiful, pure, and untainted in a way he'd never seen before. Juliet O'Hara, even her name was beautiful. She was everything he'd ever wanted and she would be his, she just didn't know it yet. He would start letting her know how he felt, slowly, like this little gesture. Then she would grow to love him and they would be together. His Juliet. Forever.