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Author's Chapter Notes:
200 words (and a bunch I had to sacrifice to get Google Docs to tell me it was short enough)

Carlton Lassiter hated surprises.

Unfortunately, his afternoon was suddenly full of them, starting with Spencer showing up to the crime scene wearing a Santa hat. ("Good things should last forever, Lassie.")

The second, which really didn't count because it wasn't actually surprising, was Spencer and Guster wandering off. ("Following the spirits," Spencer called it.) (Lassiter called it disobeying an order to stay put.)

The third was a girly scream (the kind Lassiter was always surprised could come from grown men), and Guster running from a back hallway -- followed by Spencer with his hands raised and a gunman who looked even angrier when the two detectives and three uniforms drew their own weapons.

The fourth was Spencer yelling, "Get him, Lassie!" as he threw himself forward and hit the ground.

The report of Lassiter's shot was still echoing around them as Spencer jumped up rubbing his elbow. "Wow, good shot, Wild Bill Lassie!"

"Spencer, that was stupid."

"What?"

"Really, Shawn!" O'Hara joined in now. "That guy could've shot you!"

Spencer smirked. "Jules, would I ever do anything that dangerous?"

"At least I don't have to answer that," Lassiter muttered.

"No, but I just tripped!"

Lassiter hated surprises. Had he mentioned that?



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