013 Misfortune - One Hundred Reason

[musicalluna]

Title: 013 Misfortune - One Hundred Reasons
Fandom: Psych
Author: MusicalLuna
Rating: T
Characters/Pairings: Shawn, Juliet, Lassiter/Polly
Genre: Fluff, Drama, Action
Warnings: None
Complete: Yes
Summary: One of my responses for my 100 themes collection revolving around Lassiter and Polly.
A/N: Heeeeeeeeeeeee Thanks to Vampkira for providing the idea that dragged me out of my less-than-inspired quagmire. And thank you to s_c for helping me squick out the details and the super-fun additional scene. :D
Disclaimer: I don't own Psych or it's characters.

 

“Polly is going to bring you to the station? Tomorrow morning?”

“Yeah,” Lassiter said. “Do you have a problem with that?”

Juliet shook her head, a smile pulling at her mouth. “No, no. No problem. Just…you’re going to stay at her house?”

Lassiter’s eyes narrowed. “Are you implying something, Detective?”

She shrugged innocently without saying a word.

“Oh, I see how it is,” Lassiter said. “You’re implying that I’m going to jeopardize Polly’s respectability, aren’t you? You disgust me, O’Hara.”

Juliet bit her lip to keep from laughing. “I’m not the one getting some tonight, am I, Carlton?”

“Oh, you little—”

Lassiter’s eye caught on something across the parking lot as they rolled up to McKinley Elementary and with a, “What the f—” he had thrown open the door and was sprinting away from the car.

“Carlton! Carlton, what are you—”

Not even bothering to move the car into a parking space, she threw it into park and was leaning out her own door when she realized what had caught Lassiter’s attention.

Polly was pinned to the hood of her car by the beefy hand of an enormous red-faced man.

She heard Lassiter snarl something less than professional at the man and ducked back into the car for the radio. “Crap… Dispatch? I have a 240 at McKinley Elementary. Send backup. I repeat send backup.”

Without bothering to wait for a response she tossed aside the radio and tore across the parking lot, swearing under her breath the whole way. She saw Lassiter reach for his gun and shouted, “Carlton, no!”

The warning only served to alert the behemoth pinning Polly to the car and he spun, slapping the gun from Lassiter’s hand. Lassiter cursed and Juliet gasped as the larger man’s fist connected with his jaw. How was she supposed to handle this? Both of these men were twice her size and seriously pissed off.

“Polly! Get to the car, now!” she shouted, and latched onto her arm, pulling her away from the car she’d been pinned against and toward her own. Polly’s breathing hitched raggedly and Juliet wasn’t sure if it was because of the trauma or if it was from the tears streaking down her face.

She took the time to direct Polly across the parking lot and waited just a split-second to make sure the kindergarten teacher would keep going before turning back toward the two men.

A bruise was already starting to color the enormous man’s cheekbone, so it looked as though Lassiter had gotten in a few good punches, but the pair now had hands locked on one another’s shirt fronts and the fight had gone from a fist-fight to a grappling match.

Juliet waited helplessly at the edge of the fight, waiting for an in. Both men’s heads jerked and suddenly blood was spraying over their faces and shoulders, Lassiter snarling obscenities as they struggled. Juliet’s hand tightened around her gun, but she didn’t draw, afraid that the added threat would only persuade Goliath to fight harder.

The large man managed to shove Lassiter against the back of a nearby van and he grunted but used the opportunity he’d been given to get leverage and shoved the other man hard. Both toppled to the ground and Juliet winced as the man forced Lassiter onto his back, his head cracking hard against the asphalt. She barely registered the sounds of an approaching siren, all her attention focused on her partner and the struggle.

Lassiter cursed again, more softly this time and the sound of his head cracking against the ground again was enough to tell her that waiting was no longer an option. She moved forward, pressing her hands in between the two men and trying to push the larger man away. He growled and she couldn’t stifle a yelp as he backhanded her, sending her sprawling backward. “Bastard,” Lassiter snarled, but Juliet was already up, reaching for the man’s arm.

She started when she was joined by another pair of hands and then another and looked up to find Buzz McNabb and his partner. The two men succeeded in yanking the man away from Lassiter and slapped the irate man in cuffs, Buzz saying severely, “You are under arrest, sir. You have the right to remain silent…”

Juliet knelt at Lassiter’s side, helping him sit up and he cursed softly under his breath. “Are you all right?” he demanded, eyeing her face.

“I’m fine,” she said between breaths.

“Where’s Polly?” He struggled to his feet, Juliet following at his side, worried by the blood coating his face.

“Carlton, maybe you should—”

“Where is Polly?”

“Over by the car, but—”

Lassiter had taken off before she could further voice her protests.

Polly huddled in the passenger side seat of Juliet’s car, still glassy eyed and Lassiter didn’t hesitate to yank open the door, crouching beside her, his hands reaching to grasp her by the arm and hovering around the dark bruising that was rising on her throat. “What the hell happened?” he demanded. “Why the hell was he attacking you, Polly?”

“Carlton,” Juliet scolded softly from behind him. “It’s not her fault he attacked her.”

Lassiter’s jaw tightened, the muscle in his jaw pulsing and he glared at her out of the corner of his eye. Polly clutched at his arms, taking a shaky breath and then mumbled, “Yes, it is, it was my fault.” Both detectives turned sharply back to her and she continued, tears hovering in the corners of her eyes. “I was the one who reported him. His…his son is one of my students. There were…bruises on his arms,” she whispered.

Juliet swallowed and backed away as Lassiter’s hand moved to gently brush her cheek. “Oh,” he said and a slight wince flickered across his face as his fingers brushed along her collarbone, below the bruises.

Polly laughed shakily and said, “Yeah, ‘oh’.”

Lassiter’s own face remained intent, his hand settling lightly along the side of her face and he said, “Well, then I guess it’s a good thing I beat the crap out of him, isn’t it?”

Polly nodded without any real conviction and closed her eyes. “I should have noticed sooner. I should have called sooner. I should have done something more for him…”

“You’re not responsible for what he did,” Lassiter said firmly. A tear slipped down Polly’s cheek and he pulled her head to his shoulder, wrapping her tightly in his arms, holding her close. “You’re not responsible.”

 

 

 

~ * ADDITIONAL SCENE * ~

Shawn stopped outside cell number four where he’d been directed he would find the man he was looking for and took a long, noisy drag from the cup in his hand, staring in at the hulking man sitting against the opposing wall. The man glowered back at him and he grinned, continuing to slurp noisily at the straw, scraping it around the bottom of the cup and sucking at the dregs of what remained of the drink, all the while staring intently at the man.

Two full minutes passed before the man growled, “Do you mind?”

“Not at all,” Shawn replied, and returned to slurping obnoxiously at the drink. He continued to stare at the man all the three and a half more minutes it took to suck the bottom of the cup dry and then pried the lid off, beginning to pick off and flick small bits of the Styrofoam at the man, simply smirking as his face got redder and redder, tiny bits of Styrofoam collecting on the knees of his jumpsuit.

“What the hell is your problem?” he finally demanded.

Shawn smiled beatifically and said, “Problem? I don’t have a problem.” He continued flicking Styrofoam fragments.

“You sure as hell do,” the man retorted and got to his feet, moving to the bars. Shawn’s only response was to back up slightly. The Styrofoam shower didn’t stop or even slow. “Why you backing away? Come ‘ere,” the man said.

Shawn grinned. “You’d like that wouldn’t you? What is up with your hair, dude? It’s so 80’s. It’s horrible.”

The man growled.

Keeping just enough distance between himself and the bars, Shawn began strolling slowly back and forth, whistling and tossing larger chunks of the cup at the man.

“Officer!” the man barked irritably.

Shawn smiled and said, “Dude, it’s just you and me buddy.”

For the next hour and a half, Shawn chatted at the guy, made irritating noises, and generally made himself a complete and utter nuisance. Having exhausted all of his best material on why pineapples were the king of the fruit world, he’d started talking about Henry.

“…and I tell you what, if he didn’t make me absolutely insane. He was a terrible father. He never once considered that I might not want to be a police officer. Noooo it was always, ‘You’ll be a policeman just like your old man and my old man’ ‘you’ll be the best damn detective there ever was’, not ‘do whatever your heart tells you to’ or some cheesy crap like that like other kids get. Oh, noooo. Wouldn’t want to be supportive or anything. The expectations were god-awful, I mean, my mother left him because he was so crazy about turning me into his little clone.”

“Will you shut the hell up and go away?”

Shawn continued as though he hadn’t heard, voice painfully whiny, “He was so demanding and I never did anything right. Oh, no, nothing was ever good enough for my old man. ’You didn’t do this right, son’ ‘you didn’t do that right, pal’ ‘you can’t even dry paint right, kid’. I still can’t do a damn thing right. He even arrested me once. Who the hell arrests their own kid? I’ve done nothing but make him mad my whole life.”

And then Shawn turned without warning, moving straight to the bars, his gaze suddenly intense. “But for all his faults, my dad never hit me, not once. And I might have been angry at him, but I was never scared of him.

“Hitting your kid? Dude. That’s pathetic,” he said, disgust clear in his voice.

He flicked the straw in the man’s face and then turned and coolly walked away.