The jewelry store was bigger than you expected — rows of gleaming diamonds and gold under bright lights. You and Lassiter slipped inside, hand in hand like a real married couple, your fake wedding rings catching the light.

You had barely walked in when the store manager approached, smiling widely. “Welcome, Mr. and Mrs. Lassiter! How can we help you today?”

Lassiter squeezed your hand a little tighter — just a signal, but your heart fluttered anyway. “We’re looking for an anniversary gift,” he said smoothly. His voice, usually sharp and clipped, had a softer edge to it now. Warm.

You played along, leaning a little closer into his side. “Something special,” you added with a smile.

As you browsed, Lassiter kept up the act like a professional, but every so often, you caught him glancing at you when he thought you weren’t looking. Not suspicious. Not in a cop way. In a different way. It made your stomach do nervous flips.

Suddenly, movement by the side door caught your eye — the suspect you were after, the one stealing high-end pieces from inside jobs, was here. Your whole body tensed.

Without thinking, you grabbed Lassiter’s arm tighter and whispered, “Left side, blue jacket.”

“I see him,” Lassiter murmured, then raised his voice for the crowd: “Sweetheart, look at this one — it’s perfect for you.”

You leaned over a case just as Lassiter pulled you closer, his hand steady on your lower back. He whispered, “On my count, we move.”

Your heart pounded — whether from nerves or his touch, you weren’t sure.

“Three… two… now.”

You moved fast, blocking the exit with Lassiter, badges out. The suspect panicked, tossing a jewelry tray at you, but Lassiter stepped in front of you without hesitation, shielding you. You barely caught your balance behind him.

It all happened fast — backup swarmed in, the suspect cuffed and shouting. As the chaos died down, you realized Lassiter hadn’t moved from in front of you, standing protectively close.

“Are you okay?” he asked, voice low and rough with concern.

“I’m fine,” you said, breathless. “You?”

He nodded, looking you over as if double-checking you weren’t hiding some secret injury. Then, before he could stop himself, he muttered under his breath, “I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you.”

You blinked up at him, stunned.

He seemed to realize what he’d said a second too late. His face flushed slightly — Lassiter never blushed — and he stiffened. “I mean… professionally. As partners. Of course.”

You smiled slowly.

From the doorway, you heard a familiar voice: “Aww, they’re in love!” Shawn sing-songed, clapping his hands dramatically.

You groaned, hiding your face in your hands. Lassiter growled under his breath, glaring daggers at Shawn.

“I swear to God, Spencer—”

“Don’t deny it, Lassie!” Shawn said, grinning. “I saw you do the whole hero shield move. Very romantic. Lifetime movie material, really.”