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I think you'll find that the problem is that people are too fond of cheese in general, actually.

And that's exactly why no one ever bids on Octopus' milk cheese. *bends to open one of Lassie's desk drawers* Riiiiight.

*draws breath*

....

What?

*bends his body to the side and resing his head on Lassie's arm as he tries to see what's inside the detective's drawer*

Dude, don't tell me you ran out of those horrible energy bars! I was totally craving one!

*shakes his body, which in his desk chair doesn't look all that different from a dog shaking itself dry, trying to jolt him away*

First: Get out of my drawers, Spencer! Second: Go buy your own horrible energy bars!

But Lassie, it's not the same when horrible energy bars are not purchased by handsome and slightly disturbing lanky detectives. Or you.

What can I say? It adds extra flavor. And they're free.

*sits on his armrest, wrapping his arm around Lassie's neck*

*winces a bit and looks extra grumpy*

I'd been wondering what had happened to them. I thought O'Hara was eating them.

I have sunflower seeds in my car if you want to steal them as well.

I never said I was the one who was taking them. *looks sideways, then leans closer and presses his mouth against Lassie's ear, covering them both with his hand*

*whispers* But your theory involving Jules and secret breakfasts might be pretty spot on.

*looks at him sideways, not sure whether to believe him or not. Stealing his food and then lying about it is completely Shawn's MO, but O'Hara thinks things like snacks and secrets should be shared between partners*

Do you have proof to back up your accusation?

And can you get off my chair before you break it.

*his eyebrows connect in one highly offended scowl, he raises his voice and uses his finger to show how serious are each point he makes*

Lassie, if we break the chair it will be entirely your fat thighs fault, you not-sharing snack eating... dude.

And of course I have proof! I'm a psychic. Now, if you don't believe me that's entirely your fault and part of the tiny font of our contract.

*he can actually feel the chair arm creaking as Shawn shifts and wriggles about on it. If he ends up on the floor it'd almost be worth it*

I won't be the one carrying the extra weight that pushes it over the edge and breaks it.

That's great. You can go and accuse her of this psychic vision then. She won't spend a week not talking to you or anything, I'm sure.

*leans over Lassie again, clinging to his head and making the chair creak again at the change of weight*

Just because the two of us just became one you can't keep blaming me for everything.

Dude, this is the kind of thing we men are supposed to keep from women. It's like when your wif-- *shakes his head; he needs an example that's closer to home. Like... A sister. Lassie's got a sister!* It's like when your sister is sooooo pregnant that she looks like a swolen hyppo and all you can say is that she's glowing!

*winces, bracing himself and pushing Shawn's arms away from his head*

Don't turn this into a crappy 90's girlband song.

*turns his head to look up at him* Telling O'Hara that she's glowing won't stop her from stealing my food.

*looses his balance, his first reaction is reaching out and getting hold of Lassie's shoulders and neck, like a cat holding to the bathroom's door when it's owner is trying to give it a bath. The chair leans to Shawn's side dangerously...*

Oh, but I wanna try my brit accent already! Or I will not be amuuuused!

*he narrows his eyes, wrinkling his nose a bit* No, but if she's really glowing you can expect a lot more of food stealing in the next months.

*jerks to the side, feeling the chair go off balance and instinctively grabbing the chair's arms.... one of which is actually Shawn's upper thigh*

Just, don't start singing. Or dancing.

*blinks at him, his mouth hanging open a bit* She's not...? See? This is the problem with employing women! You just get settled in around them and your work well as a team and then they go and get knocked up!

*Shawn's grin grows wider. And his hip might have just rocked upwards as he gets more comfortable on the armrest*

Can I lipsync? Whistle? Clap my hands after one steady rythm?

Very well put for a man still living in the 60s. *nods* It's terrible, really. This just proves that men should only date fellow male co-workers.

*looks down at his hand and then up at Shawn. It's frustrating to think that he'd prove nothing at all by pointing out that Shawn reacted to his touch*

All musical activities are band within my vicinity.

At least they won't get pregnant accidently, but dating tends to be the problem with combining women and work really. If they just stuck to the dating we wouldn't get in these situations.

*wraps his arms around Lassie's, keeping his arm at place. He smiles at a young brunette officer that passes by, she visibly tries to keep her head down*

It's good that we're not near your place then.

What about Cassual Dating Fridays? Nobody would wear any uniforms and accidental pregnancies would be confined to just one day a week.

*its almost not worth fighting for all the good it does him, but he can't be seen to be accepting this, especially when impressionable officers are making a show of not looking at them*

Do you remember when I bent your pinkie finger back the wrong way? *he growled* That's not the only body part that can be done to.

Is casual dating something you want to encourage?

*doesn't move an inch or show any signs to attempt to move an inch. Not even less that that.*

And that's exactly why after that Christmas Santa got me an insurance over my non-bendable body.

I'm merely encouraging love between people who already love each other but are afraid of showing or getting arrested because of it.

*might be very close to growling*

I'm sure with that insurance pay out you can buy a new one...

So.... Your idea of showing love for someone is to casually date them?

*slips off the armrest and down on his lap*

I'm sure that this kinda threats make baby Jesus weep. What kinda man makes a baby cry? Do you wanna be that sort of man, Carly?

*purses his lips, thinking about it* Sharing cheetos. That's the ultimate love gesture.

Oof! *moves his hands around Shawn's waist, for a moment he slips one hand between his thighs, then he pulls it back and shoves him*

Yes. I've made a couple of babies cry in the past, they were no match for me.

... A morning after breakfast, you mean?

*yelps, clinging to Lassie's shirt as he falls backwards and off his lap-seat*

Where you fighting for the role of Baby Herman! I knew I had seen your face somewhere before we started our precious and manly companionship! Wait. Let's google it, I need further proof!

An anytime snack. Sharing your cheetos means you're willing to give more than just sex.

*jerks forwards as his shirt tears a button out*

.... What are you going to do if you were proved right with your google search?

Really? What more does a person who shares cheetos give?