A/N: Psych isn't mine, blahdeblahdeblah. Thanks for reading/reviewing!

Chapter 8

"Hey," Juliet met them at the steps up to the police department building, smiling brightly. Perhaps too brightly, a relieved Carlton noted vaguely. "What'd you get?"

"Oh, I'm on fire and my sixth sense is feeling really helpful today," the the psychic clapped his hands grandly. "Is there a meeting planned?"

"Um, yeah, Chief has one set in five minutes, you're just in time," she responded quickly, feet shuffling. "Carlton, can I speak to you for a minute?"

"Er, sure," the head detective shrugged. Shawn motioned furiously in the background but was cut off when Lassiter jerked his fist subtly and O'Hara whipped around confusedly to see who he was threatening. She turned back around, a hint of a smile on her face with another emotion that he couldn't quite place.

"Hey," he whispered lowly. "Yeah, he thinks he got something, but honestly I don't know what he could have gotten, all he talked about were his sons and good eggs, my god they were so annoying on the ride there and back I thought I would die, why didn't you come, I missed you, you could have shut them up-" he babbled, his hand automatically finding hers and holding it tightly. She listened to his fusillade of complaints patiently but started sharply when their hands made contact and drew back, head whipping around to check that nobody was around. He jumped back also, eyes confused, flow of words drying up quickly. "What's the matter?"

"I..." a stab of pity shot through her at his tired, dismal expression. "I've been thinking about...us," she started. "And, well, remember what I had said...much earlier. About how I didn't believe in...inter-office relationships."

"O-oh." Carlton's heart sank quickly, gripping the handrail tightly in case he completely lost his rapidly waning balance.

"I don't think this is a good idea," she rushed, looking up imploringly. "It will probably just get in the way of work. I mean, the dates were fun, they really were," her voice rose in pitch and speed as her desperation increased hands waving. "But it's against protocol, you know that, and...well," she shifted uneasily. "I just...don't think this will work out, Carlton."

He leaned back against the rail, taken aback. But it did not take long before a familiar sense of weariness and disappointment washed over him. He met her gray-blue eyes firmly.

"Fine," he said. "I get it. But...just understand," he spoke softly, though nobody was around, drawing closer. Warning lights began blinking vaguely in the junior detective's head, but she only gazed up at him apprehensively as he loomed over her. "That I have been waiting forever for this moment."

"What moment?" she breathed, faces inches away from each other, knowing what would happen but not knowing. Afraid. So afraid.

"This."

And barely before the whispered word had escaped his lips, they were pressed upon Juliet's, warm, gentle, his hands at her arms. Cautious. But heartbreakingly loving. She shuddered, a thousand screams flashed through her head that this was wrong, but as much as her mind screamed at her a primal instinct, a couple millions old emotions flaring in the pit of her stomach and forcing her hands to slide up and cup the man's face, pull him closer, breathe him in and keep him in her heart. Her mind shut down. All she knew was that she needed him.

But the moment was over much too quickly.

He extracted himself from her suddenly, and without a word, turned around and entered the building.

The woman was left standing on the foot of the steps. Her breaths came, heavy, shaking, her eyes squeezed shut as a single, tearless sob escaped her lungs. She wanted to cover her face with her hands, let the tears out, drive away, kick something. But she could not. Not when work waited, when justice was yet to be found.

She decided to adopt Lassiter's state of mind that had apparently served him so well for so long. Work first, everything else never.

She gathered her snapped nerves, took a deep breath, and followed her senior detective's path up and into the department headquarters.

"Well, Mr. Spencer," Chief Vick started brusquely as O'Hara entered the room. She duly noted the detectives' avoidance of eye contact, marking it down to determination for the previous warning. "What have you found?"

"Ah, well," he stood up, spreading his arms wide and taking center stage behind the seated Juliet, ushering Lassiter into another vacant seat with some resistance. Gus took his place off to the side, Karen leaned back expectantly. "Let us gather all the information we have, hm?"

"A blond hair was found on the body of Perry Remmler, son of Amy Remmler and murderer, Archie Remmler, who now resides in Lompoc Federal Penitentiary," he paced. "DNA tests still ongoing, but it is hardly needed. Enter Jacob and Emalie Mason, a farming family living at the end of Harrison Street, two and a half lonely miles down from the body. Perry's girlfriend...Lanella Mason, a sister in a family of two brothers and two sisters. Whole family is blond-haired. Interviews for the late Perry and his brother, Parson's friends and family are due to happen...?"

"Today. At five thirty." Juliet supplied.

"Right. However, it's been firmly stated that these two brothers are good children. Over and over again," he shrugged. "And we'll probably hear this again."

"What else...oh yes, it's suspected that a family feud is involved in this. False. Because, obviously, my dear coworkers, one of the Mason brothers is it. A Mason brother, and, oh yes, a sister."

"Because, people, yes, the hair was male. Probably deposited during the murder. The brother had the sister pull the body into a truck, then had the poor girl pull it later into the ditch, so he wouldn't even have to touch it with anything but his bullet." He clapped his hands together proudly and stepped back. The occupants of the office all turned their attentions expectantly to Carlton Lassiter except Juliet. He opened his mouth, but promptly closed it, not sure what to say as he glanced sideways at a cold O'Hara. Chief Vick noticed the tension between the two and a sense of foreboding prickled.

"Okay then," she spoke up authoritatively. "Detectives, do checks on the Mason family and schedule interviews as soon as possible. The meetings with the victims' friends are in an hour and a half. Spencer," the psychic raised his eyebrows expectantly. "Do whatever you've been doing."

The group disbanded. Gus, Shawn, and Karen had sensed the obvious discomfort between the suddenly estranged detective partners, but they wisely kept their distance/silence. Once in a while Juliet would sneak glances over at Lassiter, watching his blank expression as his clear blue eyes ran over the files.

Little did she know that he had been staring at the same sheet of paper for the past five minutes, feeling her stares burning into him and looking up himself when he thought she was not. Once they had managed to stare in unison, but instead of flitting their gazes elsewhere, they held it for a moment. Juliet's lip trembled, and she was dangerously close to the verge of bursting into tears. Eventually it was Carlton who broke contact, looking away indifferently, when honestly, his chest ached just as much as hers.

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