How Does That Fit In Again?
Title: How Does That Fit In Again?
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Summary: A witness to greatness, er, that doesn’t make sense.
A/N: If it seems like it goes nowhere, that’s probably because it doesn’t. Random bit of weird that I can’t make sense of. How Does That Fit In Again?
“You know, I’m uncomfortable with your line of questioning,” she said, leaning back against the sticky vinyl chair. It was too damn hot for this nonsense today.
“You’re uncomfortable with my questioning what your connection to the assailant is?” Detective Carlton Lassiter glowered at her.
“It’s a private connection. And you are hella rude.”
“Oh, for the love of God, she said ‘hella’! Didn’t we ban her from ever using that word again?”
“You’re trying to catch a cloud and pin in down, Dawn. That doesn‘t rein our fireball in. It just makes cotton candy.”
Lassiter practically growled at the chatting trio in the corner. The brunette in the chair looked equally annoyed, which only really improved his mood.
“That’s from The Sound of Music
“And I’m pretty sure clouds have nothing to do with making cotton candy.”
“What?” Shawn Spencer, psychic detective rolled his eyes and leaned over the desk to face them. “Is it really necessary for you to harass my poor, poor intern Lassy?”
“I’m not your intern, bonehead,“ she snorted, ignoring the psychic. “Connor wasn’t the assailant, so I don’t see why you need to question me on why I was innocently standing on the corner.”
“Lassy found you trolling the corner
. And why were you with Connor, Kit?” Dawn Summers frowned. “Did they ask you -”
“Zip it,” Kit snapped.
“No, do go on Miss Summers,” Lassiter smirked at her.
“I was refering to Connor’s dad asking Kit to show Connor around Santa Barbara while he’s on break from Stanford. Don’t be so paranoid.”
“It’s his middle name, much like mine in is Blaine.”
“That’s not a name, it’s a major appliance,” Dawn rolled her eyes at him.
“As I was saying before these two started riffing on Pretty In Pink
, Connor has only been here for less than six hours. You can’t link him to the three attacks this week.”
“Two attacks and one fatality,” Lassiter added. “All carried out by a lanky, androgynous male in his mid-twenties.”
“So, you’d be looking for half of the male population that fits in the age range of 18 to 30,” Kit snarked.
“I like her. Can we keep her?” Shawn grinned.
“No, because I’m not a puppy.”