Disclaimer: Psych and all related characters are the property of USA Networks and a bunch of other people in suits. Please don't sue.
Shot I: Tics
Carlton Lassiter had a habit of silently talking to himself when he was deep in thought.
He licked his lips every three minutes and 45 seconds. The licks increased when he was bored.
He twisted at his empty left ring finger whenever he felt nervous or self-conscious.
He fingered his gun or hooked his hands on his holster when he was content.
He never cursed when he was angry or when interrogating uncooperative suspects. He didn't need to.
Shawn knew all of the Head Detective's tics. No matter how stoic Lassiter tried to appear to the rest of the world, Shawn could pinpoint his true mood in an instant.
Today, Lassiter was definitely in a funk. He was snapping at underlings more than he usually did. He'd flustered McNab so badly, the man had accidently spilt an entire pot of lukewarm coffee on himself. He was sharp with O'Hara. Even now, as the Chief was briefing them on a kidnapping case, the detective seemed annoyed and disinterested. He was standing in the back of the Chief's office, near the door, arms crossed and face blank.
This was new. No matter Lassiter's mood, he always kept his focus when it came to work.
Truth be told, Shawn was stumped. Clues were scarce. Lassiter's hands were still and empty. His lips were still, but relaxed.
But his eyes...if it were anyone else, Shawn would say they looked sad. The detective wasn't looking at the Chief. His eyes were much too unfocused to be paying attention to what was going on in the room. His lids were lowered with only—
"Spencer! What the hell are you staring at?"
Shawn jumped slightly at the sound of Lassiter's angry tone. It was rare that faux-psychic was caught off-guard, and he felt the heat of embarrassment as Gus, Juliet and Chief Vick looked at him with confusion. He had been staring and it was quite obvious. His whole body was shifted in his seat, turned away from the Chief's desk so that he could get a better few of the lanky detective.
He cleared his throat and Lassiter's now-angry blue eyes. He stared at them for a few more seconds. "Sorry 'bout that, Lassie. I simply got lost in your eyes," Shawn replied without a trace of sarcasm.
The frustrated flush that spread across Lassiter's face was a welcome sight. It was familiar and chased that sad glaze out of his eyes. The Chief cleared her throat.
"If you two don't mind, we have a kidnapping case to get moving on."
"Yes, ma'am," Lassiter mumbled. Shawn nodded in agreement.
The authoritative voice of the Chief resumed and slowly recaptured Gus' and Juliet's attention. Shawn leaned back in his seat as Lassiter resumed his glowering.
Angry Lassiter excited Shawn. Happy Lassiter made him laugh. But Sad Lassiter was an unknown. Shawn decided he'd rather keep it that way.
Author note: Sappy than I intended, but alas. Sad Lassiter equals Sad Shawn. Awww. Please let me know what you think. Reviews make for a better writer.