SIX DEGREES KARAOKE (Tammy Award Party for wolfwithaguitar)

[head_psychic]

Taking a quick look around Shawn nods in approval. Yeah, this is definitely it. The place where Randy's gonna get his well-deserved celebration big time. Renting the karaoke bar had proved even easier than he had imagined: Just some observations about certain employees and dirty deals, neatly packed into a breathtaking vision and the owner was even more than willing to make the place available. Acknowledgment of gratitude, which, of course, Shawn couldn't decline. That would have been totally rude.

The SIX DEGREES karaoke bar is a big place that somehow managed to stay comfy nevertheless. There are round tables near the bar as well as lounges in the corners. The bar itself is more of the modern kind but without looking too freaky to keep looking at it after five beers. The stage is actually perfect. Shawn checked it out, everybody should be able to see it.

It's all there, everything is ready so he hums a happy little tune as he waits for Randy and the guys to show up for the soundcheck. Not that he particularly cares if someone else decides to drop by early. If nobody shows up at all it doesn't really matter as well. Because it would only take him one call and approximately ten minutes to turn the event into something even more official than it already is and find enough random people on the street.

Yeah. No matter what, this is going to be awesome.

Comments

[r-vecchio.livejournal.com]

Ray's highly unimpressed. He's dressed to the T and for what? To come to a party, for a guy he doesn't even know, and probably get voodoo-whammied by that psycho Shawn. Oh, this is so not his kind of evening.

Women, however, now, they can make a night out bareable if the rest of the company isn't up to scratch. And with a fake psychic, some guy in a suit who looks suspiciously like a Fed, and some really bad soundchecking, the company definitely doesn't reach Ray's high standards.

Women it is, then. Or rather...woman. Over there. Talking to Fed guy.

Ray strides over, straightening his cuffs as he goes and nods in the vague direction of Fed Guy. Or Waiter Guy as he'd prefer to call him. "Hey," he bellows, "somebody promise me free drinks? I'm still waitin'. And heeeey," his voice deepens a little and he sends the woman a charming sideways glance. "I'm here. Fake psychic dude kept his promise. So," he grins, turning his back on Waiter/Fed Guy and placing himself firmly between him and the only woman in the room. "You've been dying to meet me, huh?"

[carolina-blonde.livejournal.com]

Tara isn't impressed. Though she might still be a little wet behind the ears when it comes to detective work, she can get touchy. And this would definitely be one of those times. The smile on her lips dies almost instantly.

"I wasn't speaking to you, sir," she says, her voice calm and level. "I was talking to him," with a nod of her head in Lassiter's direction. "So if you'll excuse us."

She's starting to wonder just who Shawn invited to this party.

[det-lassiter.livejournal.com]

A smile spreads slow and slightly smuggly over Lassiter's face, he has to lift his hand as if he were wiping his mouth to cover it. Side steping around the guy in the Armani suit, (which looks old and worn, like he'd been jumping into dumpsters whilst wearing it and it's had to go for dry cleaning several times too often), he turns to him briefly and lets his hand drop away so the rude, overly confident man can see his smile. Then he turns back to Tara.

"Perhaps I can help you if there's anything else to get out of the car?"

He'd been debating whether to go or not before they'd been interupted. This young lady actually wanted to talk with him. It was flattering, he'd been stupid to leave and go home to an empty house now.

[carolina-blonde.livejournal.com]

"I think we got everything out, but I suppose it can't hurt to check," Tara agrees, acting as if everything is fine. She has no desire to be more confrontational than she has to, so the offered exit is the perfect opportunity to get away from the situation.

She still has Brendan's keys to his Forester in her pocket, so she digs them out and holds the door for him. Once they're outside, she shakes her head. She doesn't like fighting and every time she gets involved in one she always feels a little bit weird.

"That was strange," she admits. "Shawn said he was inviting a lot of people to the party...I'm hoping not too many and not too much like that." But she gives him a small smile. She honestly is glad he turned up.

[head-psychic.livejournal.com]

Saying hi to Lassy didn't quite work out yet. Shawn was about to run after him when he noticed how the detective was about to flee the scene but then Tara showed up and took over the job. Shawn could easily read from Carlton's body language that he was more at ease already. So, giving Tara the opportunity to talk him into staying and having a little chat he keeps organizing things around and mostly behind stage, occasionally observing the pair from time to time.

Being too far away to hear a word they're saying and being too far away to be spotted himself Shawn watches the intrusion of their conversation and frowns. First of all because he's dying to hear what Lassy has to say (or to glare-say) to the guy and second because yep, he does know Vecchio, just like he always assumed. He met that guy before.

Right now Tara and Lassy decide to leave together - now wait, just how wrong did that sound? - and avoid a confrontation. Oh well. Time to be a nice host and say hi.

"Vecchio! Dude! You made it! That's awesome!" With a huge grin Shawn appears out of nowhere and pats his shoulder. "It's great you're here. You-..." Then the grin dies and Shawn's hand suddenly seems stuck to the detective's shoulder. "Oh my God! I can... feel... a stone... an anvil, a-anvil? Like in the cartoons?" Shawn quickly releases him and covers his head with his hands. "It's... crashing right down and... ow! Pow! Bang! What? Something... dawned on you? What dawned?"

Reaching out, Shawn touches Ray's shoulder once more and jumps back with a yelp. "PWNED! Something just totally PWNED you! Dude, what happened? Did someone steal your parking space?"

[r-vecchio.livejournal.com]

"I'm far more interesting to talk to," Ray replies unfazed, grin still on his face.

Until they both just leave. Walk the hell away from him, and the smile drops down into a thin line.

Well.

That's just rude.

Guess he'll have to find the free drinks himself then.

But then there's a hand on his shoulder and he's peering around and it's like a flashback to Vegas; poker table all set up, so many guys, so many guns in that room, except for this dude standing right next to him, dealing hands, doing his job, being kind of normal.

He almost groans right there. He can't believe he ever thought of Shawn as normal.

“It’s Ray,” he corrects, just as unfazed, (at least, outwardly - he can’t help the flip-flopping in his stomach at the sight of a guy who reminds him so much of what he used to be) his gaze following the hand with a look of disdain. If Shawn hadn’t have removed it as quickly as he had, Ray would’ve been forced to pry it off his shoulder himself, one finger at a time.

[head-psychic.livejournal.com]

"Tssssray." Shawn replies, his face turning absolutely serious, nodding as if he means every word he's just saying. Which maybe he is. "Yes. Got it."

Then the grin is neatly back in place. "So! Had a good trip? How about a drink?"

[r-vecchio.livejournal.com]

"No," Ray answers, out of habit. He doesn't enjoy long trips, never really has done, and most of his end up being a distaster anyway. So it's easier to just say no automatically than actually stop and think about it.

He bends his head towards the bar and hugs his arms across his chest. "It better be free," he grunts, casting a quick glance around the room for any more women.

[head-psychic.livejournal.com]

"Oh, it is. Consider it your Cheerupantipawn-drink!"

Shawn looks around. "Hellooo!" All the waiters look quite busy. It's getting fuller by now and the bartender probably makes sure he's getting enough 'spare supplies' for his shelves. "Oh, whatever."

With a swift movement he swings himself over the counter behind the bar. "What do you want?"

[r-vecchio.livejournal.com]

"Yeah, whatever," Ray mumbles, leaning on the counter but somehow still managing to keep his arms crossed tightly in front of him. Being in Shawn's company makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, and so not in the good way. Well...okay, maybe - he shakes his head - so not in the good way...

His chin juts out towards one of the refrigerators behind the bar. "Gimme a beer, will ya?" He's very away that he's keeping his palms well hidden from Shawn too.

[head-psychic.livejournal.com]

"On it!" Shawn grins and cheerfully hands him the bottle even though the detective's body language jumps right into his face and scratches his face bloody with the claws of obviousness. Which could use some trimming. Please, even Gus might have been able to point out someone was getting waay too defensive here.

"So, how's life treating you these days? Apart from dammit, where are all the women!! ..." Shawn blinks in fake irritation and shakes his head. "Whoa. Now where did that come from. Sorry. Where was I?"

[r-vecchio.livejournal.com]

Ray has to close his eyes against the inane stupidity he can feel radiating off the guy behind the bar.

"You're very funny," he grinds out, deadpan, and obvious from his tone that he doesn't mean a word of it. The beer is left on the counter, Ray's arms stay in their place, but he shifts his feet so his weight is resting on the other foot. "Life is fine." No way is he going to give anything away that Shawn could possibly in one of his "psychic" turns to try to convince him that he's genuine.

[head-psychic.livejournal.com]

"And you're very cranky," Shawn replies. "It's vaporing the air, like too much sweet perfume. Which wouldn't be so bad if your defensiveness wasn't adding that musky scent. Mixed together that's a real horrible odor of leavemethehellalone, which isn't exactly the best choice for a party. Dude, cheer up! I'll give you a 'Randy-fan!' button for free!"

[det-lassiter.livejournal.com]

"People like Spencer attract all kinds of friends. Most of them would have to be a little tapped in the head to believe all that psychic hocus-pocus." Lassiter shrugs one shoulder, trying to keep up the relaxed, cool appearance as he walks to the car.

Despite his words, he's not so sure that Spencer actually has that many real friends, aside from Gus. Lots of associates and contact, very few people he’d actually trust. It's something Lassiter would grudgingly admit to having in common with Spencer. He'd have to be drunk first, though.

Suddenly, he realises the implication of what he's just said. "I'm sure that you and your friends are perfectly sane, though." He half cringes, half smiles at Tara as he feels himself digging a deeper hole.

[carolina-blonde.livejournal.com]

"Well..." She chuckles. "Brendan has his insane moments. But he's more Randy's friend than mine. He's really very sweet, though," she says, in an attempt to backtrack, because for all the strange things the British architect has done, he's always been supportive of the both of them and she doesn't want to be speaking ill of anyone.

She fumbles with the keys to the Forester -- he's only had it for a few months, so it's still flawless and she'd like to keep it that way -- before she checks the trunk. Randy got all the band gear, and they're leaving the luggage in the car, but there's one more box he doesn't know about and she just smirks to herself. Her best friend is in for a surprise.

"Besides, I wouldn't blame you if you called us a little crazy, we do work in Los Angeles after all." A small, impish smile as she hefts the box and then closes the trunk. "Not really your kind of social scene, is it?" she comments. She's kind of observant like that.

[det-lassiter.livejournal.com]

Glancing around to make sure no one is in earshot, he ducks his head and smiles self-consciously.

"No, not really. Is it that obvious?"

His wife - ex-wife - whatever - started to get this thing about them needing to spend less time in each other's pockets, and more time doing their own thing. He never really got the hang of it, he thought that was what being married was about; not needing anything more than each other's company. Of course, he understood why she wanted more time going out without him now.

"I'm not very good at being off duty," he says as if that explained it. Gesturing to the box Tara's carrying, he attempts to change the subject. "Can I help you with that?"

[carolina-blonde.livejournal.com]

"Sure. It's just some stuff we wanted to surprise Randy with later. This is kind of a big deal for him. For all of us, really." She hands him the box and shoves her hands in her pockets. Though she, her best friend and his friend were all different people, they shared certain common threads. They had all come from stable, relatively quiet households, and with the exception of Brendan, middle-class, so they were pretty humble about a lot of things. Simple people, when it came down to it.

She chuckles dryly. "And hey. That's cool. I mean, I spend most of my time at work, trying to prove to my lieutenant that I belong with the division," she admitted. "Most of the time I just go home and play with my dog or read a Bond novel or something. I'm kinda boring like that. Once I decided I wanted to be a detective that's all I really focused on for years. Didn't really much think about a social life."

A small smile. "Just means you've got to be a darn good detective, Carlton."

[det-lassiter.livejournal.com]

Ducking his head once again, but this time with a smile playing over his lips. "Well, I am the youngest Head Detective ever named on the force." He can be modest later, what's the point if he can't boast once in a while? Spencer continually outshines him these days; he occasionally needs to remind himself what he gave up so much for, never mind anybody else.

"Work hard." He nods to Tara over the box as they walk back to the bar. "You have to make sacrifices to achieve the things you really want from your career, but you'll make it if you really focus."

"Hmmm, Randy's the friend who this party is for, isn't it? I'm sorry," he gestures with a flick of his fingers, still holding the box, "Spencer just asked me to come, I don't really know what it's for. I'm glad I did come, though."

[carolina-blonde.livejournal.com]

"Well then that's at least something good that's come out of it." She gives a small smile, blushing a little. "And really, it's kind of my fault, because I asked Randy to ask Shawn if you were coming, so it's probably because of me."

A dry laugh. "Randy doesn't normally do parties. He's a really quiet guy unless he's playing with his band. This is sort of freakish for him. But he deserves it. Everyone knows he does."

Which is why she's intent on surprising him, because he's her best friend and he's done a lot for her. The least she can do is give back to him and maybe try to help if he starts getting flustered.

"But I am just totally excited about getting to know you. I mean, I've only been with the detective bureau for a little less than a year now and obviously, you know way more about this stuff than I do."

[det-lassiter.livejournal.com]

It's difficult not to let his ego get the better of him for a second.

Respect, Lassiter is used to, that comes with the title. Or, it used to, before Spencer started plonking himself down in his lap and groping his head in laughable displays of psychic ability on a regular basis. Subordinates are starting to get a little too friendly, for his liking. McNab, for example, approaching him for advice on his lovelife? Completely inappropriate. Completely Spencer's fault.

Excitement, though. About meeting him? That's something completely different that he's not encountered in years. Except for that middle-aged stripper who'd had too much too drink a few months back, and she didn't count. He didn't want her to count.

"Most of the things I know now, can't be taught by someone else; you learn it through experience." He stops at the door back in to the bar. If his hands weren't full, he would have opened it and held it for Tara to go through first. "Is there no one in your department that could act as a mentor for you?"

[carolina-blonde.livejournal.com]

"Well everyone in my department is senior to me." Tara nods a little as she holds the door. "I work with a great guy who's been with the department for awhile now. But I figured it's best to try and learn from as many people as possible. Kinda like Batman."

After all that was what made Batman, Batman, wasn't it? Traveling the world and learning from the best. Except for the whole having a lot of money thing. Yeah, that probably helped too. She shrugged.

"It's just that we're doing something really special and I don't want to screw it up."

[det-lassiter.livejournal.com]

"Who's doing something special? Your department?" He knows better than to pry too deeply, but for a moment he's lost the thread of what they are talking about and he needs to clarify.

There are electric guitars and a drum kit on stage, it's a pretty safe guess that Randy doesn't play the kind of music that he would normally listen to. He can give them a fair chance, though; he won an award, apparently. There's also something that looks suspiciously like a karaoke machine up there, which makes him wince. That's not going to happen.

"Where am I taking this?" He lifts the box a little in his arms to gesture to it.

ooc

[carolina-blonde.livejournal.com]

OOC: Just curious as to whether or not you wanted to finish this thread off or not, as the whole party post seems to have stalled...Tara is most definitely interested in talking to Lassiter at some point!

Re: ooc

[in-a-chinashop.livejournal.com]

(ooc: Sorry! It's been a bit of an emotional weekend for Ren and he's been demanding my attention to move a certain thread through it, and oddly enough Lassie has been quite happy to sit back and pretend like he's not there... Ren is now an emotional wreck, so now I get to break my other muses. *smiles sweetly at Lass* I'm quite happy to continue with the thread, he seems to quite be enjoying himself ^_^ I tend to RP on slowtime normally though, just to warn you...)

Re: ooc

[carolina-blonde.livejournal.com]

(OOC: No worries whatsoever! I'm just borrowing Tara and the gang for NaNo this year, so I'm trying to make sure that I'm caught up on as much of their RP stuff as possible before I start writing the novel. Trust me, once I get started on that, I'll be slow too.)