When Carlton pulled up in front of O'Hara's apartment building (he refused to think of it as the Spencers' apartment) on Wednesday night, he was in a good mood. O'Hara had been excited all day, and so grateful to him she'd done his paperwork, leaving him with an extra long lunch and an hour on the shooting range.

He parked and walked up to the apartment door, raising his hand to the doorbell. Before he could press the button though, O'Hara's voice came from inside the house through the open front window.

“Shawn, have you seen my brown flats? You know, the ones with pink – Shawn! I told you not to give him those! Now he won't eat dinner for Carlton!”

Spencer's reply was too muffled to be heard; he must have been further inside the apartment.

“Yes, I know how much he loves the dinosaur-shaped chicken nuggets.” O'Hara's voice faded then became stronger again as if she was walking back and forth across the room. “Can you help me find those flats? Carlton will probably be here any minute. He likes to be early.”

Carlton glanced at his watch noticing that he was indeed about ten minutes early. Shrugging, he pushed the doorbell.

It was Spencer who opened the door, a wide grin on his face. “Lassie! This is so awesome! I almost didn't believe Jules when she said you could babysit tonight, but here you are! It's like Three Men and a Baby except you're only one dude. Maybe it's more like Kindergarten Cop.”

Carlton stepped past him into the apartment. “It's nothing like either of those, Spencer. And just so we're clear, I'm doing this for O'Hara, not you.”

“You can admit you love me too, it's okay,” he replied, grinning cheekily. Then, turning toward the rest of the apartment he called, “Hey, Owen! Where'd you go, buddy? Uncle Lassie's here!”

Carlton rolled his eyes at the nickname as Owen came running out of the bedroom down the hall. “Unca Wassie!” the little boy cried, his grin matching his father's. The little boy hurtled into Carlton's legs and wrapped his his arms around his knees. Before Carlton could react to the exuberant greeting the little boy pulled back and opened his fist revealing several colorful, gooey blobs. “Wanna squishy?”

Carlton blinked down at him. “Um, no thank you,” he said, wondering how much of that stickiness had ended up on his pants just then.

Shawn reached down and plucked one of the colorful blobs out of Owen's hand and popped it in his mouth. “How can you say no to Gushers, Lassie? These things are amazing. Red's the best, but blue definitely has its virtues.”

Owen shook his head, cramming the rest of his handful into his mouth, smearing brightly-colored goop all over his face. “Nuh-uh, Daddy. Gween is best.”

“C'mon, buddy. You're just saying that because Gus did and we both know his Gusher-sense is a little off. His popsicle-sense on the other hand--”

“I have a possicle? Owen asked, forgetting about the Gusher debate and grabbing Shawn's hand.

“How about you and Uncle Lassie have one after you eat your dinosaurs?” Shawn said, Owen ineffectually hauling on his hand.

Carlton frowned. “I don't -”

“Don't worry, Carlton,” Juliet said coming down the hall. He was so used to seeing her at work that he found himself surprised that she was wearing a t-shirt and shorts. “There are leftover pork chops in the fridge, or you can heat up some soup or make a sandwich, or whatever you want. Ooh,” she said, frowning in the direction of the fridge. “I think there's some yogurt in there that should probably be avoided, but everything else should be good.”

“Yeah, help yourself,” Shawn said, gesturing widely. “I'll even show you my secret Poptart stash if you promise not to show the little guy,” he said, leaning in for a conspiratorial whisper.

Carlton leaned away and looked toward Juliet, ignoring Spencer. “I already ate.”

“But not anything as delicious as poptarts!” Shawn chimed in.

Carlton frowned but before he could tell Spencer where could shove his poptarts, Juliet laid a hand on his arm. “I'll show you around real quick,” she said, turning to lead him into the apartment.

“My woom, my woom!” Owen shouted, grabbing Carlton's hand and dragging him toward the hallway. Carlton allowed himself to be pulled by the little boy, wincing at the stickiness still coating Owen's hand.

“We probably won't be home until after midnight, but he goes to bed around eight, ” O'Hara said, following them. “He's been pretty good about going to sleep lately so you'll just have to help him with his pajamas and tuck him in.”

“And don't forget Monkey Blanket,” Shawn said as Owen led them into the bedroom. “Monkey Blanket is really important. So is the Lighting McQueen sippy cup. But just put water in it because juice turns him into a crazed cappuccino monkey at night--”

“Capuchin, honey,” Juliet inserted.

“--And if he doesn't drink all the milk bad things happen in those cups.” He sighed dramatically. “I still miss that X-Men one.”

Owen pulled Carlton over to his little bed. “Dis a big boy bed,” the little boy announced, looking up at him.

“He just made the move from his crib,” Juliet explained. “He's pretty excited about it.”

Owen let go of Carlton's hand and scrambled onto the bed. “Wanna jump?” he offered, taking an experimental bounce himself.

“Whoa, little dude!” Shawn leaned over and lifted the little boy off the bed and into his arms. “If you jump on your bed you could get hurt. Remember when you fell off and bit your lip?”

Owen nodded, eyes wide. “It bweeded.”

“Yeah, it did bleed. We don't want that again, right?” Spencer said. Carlton had to admit he was surprised Spencer hadn't joined Owen in jumping on the bed.

The little boy shook his head. “Nuh-uh.” Owen turned from Spencer to look at Carlton. “No jumping, Unca Wassie,” he said sadly.

“Uncle Lassie's probably never jumped on a bed,” Spencer told the little boy. “It's hard to do that with a stick up--”

“C'mon, Shawn,” O'Hara interrupted, rolling her eyes. “Carlton, I'll put his pj's on top of the dresser, and his sippy cup is just over here,” she said, pointing at the little cup on the window sill. “Monkey Blanket is around here somewhere. Shawn wasn't kidding when he said it's important.”

Carlton nodded, the sudden image of his own beloved cowboy blanket coming to mind.

“Our AC is broken, so sorry it's so warm in here. You can turn on a fan if you want.” O'Hara looked around the room thoughtfully. “I think that's everything. Just heat up some chicken nuggets from the freezer for his dinner and if you can get him to eat some carrots or something that would be great.”

Shawn snorted. “Good luck with that one, Lassieface.”

Juliet wrinkled her nose. “Yeah, it's a long shot. Anyway, other than that, you can put a movie in for him or whatever you want. There's a little playground behind the apartments that he likes.”

To Carlton's surprise, Owen leaned out of Spencer's arms toward him. “Go to pawk wif you!” the little boy exclaimed, holding out his arms.

Carlton took him a little gingerly. “Uh, okay.”

Owen grinned at him happily. “Catch me onna swide so I don' get bweeded.”

Carlton had no idea what the little boy was trying to say which must have registered on his face because Spencer attempted to clarify.

“Last time we went to the playground he skinned his knee on the slide because Mommy forgot to catch him,” he said, shooting a teasing grin in O'Hara's direction.

“He usually does just fine by himself, and you were closer than I was anyway,” she said, eyebrows raised.

Deciding it was high time the two of them left – he still couldn't quite get used to the two of them acting all . . . married – Carlton cleared his throat. “Aren't you going to be late or something?”

Shawn looked at him in surprise. “Look at that, Jules. Lassie is tired of us already! It's almost like he wants to get rid of us.”

Carlton sighed. “If only I could get rid of you, Spencer.”

Shawn grinned at him. “Aw, I love you too. Hug?” he said, stepping forward and opening his arms.

Carlton shook his head and stepped past him out of the room. “That will never happen.”

O'Hara laughed as she followed him back into the living room, Owen still in Carlton's arms. “Thanks again, Carlton. Owen's been excited all day for you to come over.”

Carlton looked at the little boy who was busy sucking the remnants of his handful of Gushers off his fingers. “He barely even knows me, O'Hara,” he said sceptically.

Juliet smiled. “Your fault, not mine. He remembers you giving him ice cream at the department picnic in April. And he hears a lot about you.”

“Not from Spencer, I hope,” he said frowning as Shawn came into the living room carrying a pair of brown and pink shoes.

“Hey! You found them!” O'Hara exclaimed taking them from him and dropping them to the floor so she could slip them on.

“Ready now?” Spencer asked her, bouncing on the balls of his feet with a big grin on his face.

She smiled at him. “You look like Owen when we took him to the zoo last weekend.”

“This is gonna be so much more awesome than the zoo!” he said. “The last time I saw Simple Minds in concert was 2002! Do you know what that kind of deprivation does to a guy?”

Owen frowned and leaned away from Carlton toward O'Hara. “Go to zoo wif you?” he asked as she took him.

“We're not going to the zoo, Owen. Remember? You're going to stay with Uncle Carlton while Mommy and Daddy go listen to some music,” she said, attempting to wipe a sticky smudge off his cheek with her thumb.

Owen's bottom lip poked out. “I go wif you,” he insisted.

“Don't you want to show Uncle Lassie the slide?” Shawn chimed in. “I bet if you try you can even teach him how to push you on the swings,” he added, shooting Carlton a smirk.

“Just because you struggle with simple concepts doesn't mean everyone does, Spencer,” he said, glaring. “I know how to work playground equipment.”

Owen didn't seem convinced and he wrapped both arms around O'Hara's neck, burying his face in her shoulder. She walked over the couch and set him down on it, crouching down to his eye level. “We'll be back soon, sweetheart,” she said. “You'll have lots of fun with Carlton.” She kissed his forehead and stood and Owen's pout deepened.

Carlton watched as the little boy's eyes followed O'Hara as she stepped in the kitchen and grabbed the keys. When it became clear that they really were leaving, Owen looked at Spencer. “Daddy? Go wif you?”

Shawn groaned. “Not the pouty face, little dude! Jules, he's using the pouty face!”

O'Hara grinned at him. “He'll be okay. Just don't look.”

Spencer frowned, still watching Owen.

Carlton rolled his eyes, quickly losing patience. “For crying out loud, Spencer. Are you going to go or not?”

O'Hara laughed at the look of surprise on Shawn's face and grabbed his hand. “Carlton's right. We should get going.” She tugged him toward the door and Owen hopped off the couch, following them with a rather forlorn look.

O'Hara opened the door and Spencer turned back to look at Owen. “Make sure Lassie brushes his teeth before bed, okay?”

“O-tay,” the little boy said, sadly.

O'Hara paused.“Oh, Carlton! He's potty-trained but make sure you remind him once in a while. And watch him wash his hands because sometimes he forgets to use soap.” She smiled and waved at Owen. “I love you, sweetheart!” And with that and a cheeky salute from Spencer, they were out the door.