Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

RING

Gus squinted at his phone; it was far too early in the morning to be awake yet. He groaned and laid back on his pillow as he answered. "Shawn, this had better be important."

"Uh, hey buddy." Shawn's voice shook slightly over the speaker.

"Shawn, what's wrong?"

"Nothing. I just… I needed… You're ok, right?"

Gus let out a small sigh of understanding. They had all had their share of nightmares over the years. "Yeah, I'm alright. Bad guys are arrested, no one got hurt, another win for the good guys."

"Right. Right… Did you know flamingos have to eat with their head upside down?"

"... I have a presentation to do at my other job tomorrow. I need sleep. Stay on the line as long as you need to." Gus put the phone next to his pillow and was quickly lulled back to sleep by the soft chatter of his friend.

Soft snores filled the air as the running commentary of strange facts faded away. Several minutes of silence over the speaker were finally broken by a soft, "thanks buddy."

(Click)

BUZZ BUZZ

"Lassiter, what's going on?"

"O'Hara. I figured it out. I figured it out before Spencer!"

"That's great. It's two in the morning, fill me in when we're at the station."

"No, you don't understand. We're ahead of Spencer! I couldn't sleep tonight, so I started tapping- I mean thinking. I was thinking and I realized that the owner of the second store has a brother! And guess who was turned down for a finance on an engagement ring at the first jewelry place."

"That's great Lassiter, we can follow up on it later."

"No, we need to go now. I have coffee."

"I am not going to talk to a suspect before the sun's up!"

"I went by that good bakery for your coffee. I got eclairs. I can't promise I won't eat them before you get into work…"

"You know bribing a detective is a serious offense." Juliet threw off her covers and began reaching for her clothes.

She could practically hear the smirk over the phone, "I'll see you in 5."

(click)

I LIKE BIG BUTTS AND I CANNOT LIE

Grumbling about irresponsible sons and stupid technology, Henry grabbed his phone from the side table.

"Shawn, what did I tell you about changing my ringer!"

"But Papa, how else will the curvy waitress at your favorite diner know you could be into her?"

"You need to fix it. Now!"

"I can't fix something when I'm not there. I know you're getting forgetful in your old age, but surely you must still know that."

"I am not getting old Shawn; I could still kick your ass with one hand tied behind my back."

"You are absolutely right. You're in the prime of youth. And that's why you fell asleep before eleven on a Tuesday watching a soap opera rerun."

Henry glanced around at the rumpled blanket on the couch and the emotional love confession playing on his TV. He chewed his cheek in annoyance as he turned back to his phone, "what do you want Shawn. It's too late for a social call."

"Well Dad, I know your advanced age comes with extra risks, so I -your caring, concerned son- have come up with a solution."

"You're laying it on a bit thick, don't you think?"

"Never!" Henry couldn't stop his small smirk at his son's antics. "You need a dog!"

Henry's smirk dropped as fast as it appeared, "Shawn don't you dare, I do not need a dog!"

"He could help you remember to take your medicine, keep you company in the lonely hours, come and find me when you fall in a well…."

"No. No dogs! They shed, they bark, they leave a mess everywhere they go. NO"

"So... I can put you down for a hard maybe. Got it!"

(Click)

"NO! It's a hard no!"

BUZZ BUZZ

"Chief?"

"O'Hara, sorry to wake you."

"It's not a problem. Is something wrong?" Juliet sat up and started reaching for her gun and badge.

"No, nothing like that… Look, I'm calling you as a friend right now, not as your boss."

Juliet put her gun back on the table and sat down, confusion written across her face. "Um, OK. What's up?"

"This is ridiculous, and I can't believe I called you. It's just... you're the only person I know that would understand."

"Absolutely Chief." Juliet winced at the reflex. "I mean Vick. Uh, Karen. What do you need?"

"Remember the San Francisco officer that was in the precinct this afternoon?"

"Yeah, he was a real jerk. Kept trying to tell me how he liked his coffee and suggesting I undo more of my shirt buttons."

"That's the one. He came back after you all left. We had…words. Unsurprisingly, he's not a fan of a woman being chief."

Juliet eyed her gun and had to suppress a very Lassiter-like reflex to find something to shoot. "Tell me you didn't believe a word he said."

"Oh, don't worry, it isn't the first time I've had to put someone like him in his place and it won't be the last."

"So… we both agree that he's the worst… Why the phone call?"

"Because that's not where it ended. After our argument he told me he needed the rest of the files on the case. No one else was in the building, and I was really sick of seeing his face, so I took him to the filing room. It didn't even occur to me that it might be a bad idea. Until he closed the door and I realized I was completely alone with an angry man who was almost twice my size."

"Oh my god, Karen…"

"Don't worry, nothing happened. I'm not sure he even noticed, he just grabbed the files and left. But... Juliet. I have years of police training and experience under my belt. I am in charge of the entire Santa Barbara law enforcement. I even have the mayor's ear. But when I was in that room? The only thing I could think of was that I was a woman and he was a man. I was such an idiot putting myself in a position like that!"

Juliet scrambled out of bed and stood her full height, eyes ablaze. "Karen, NO. You were NOT an idiot, stop thinking that right now. Your instincts are good, and you listened to them. You knew the filing room was safe and you knew you needed to get that son of a bitch out of your precinct."

"But-"

"And even if something did happen, it still wouldn't have been your fault! Not to mention that the reason that man, and I use the word loosely, was twice your size was because he never learned how to say no to a doughnut. You are a lean, mean, fighting tigress and I am positive that you could have taken him."

"O'Hara, are you yelling at me?"

"Oh, Karen, no, I'm so sorry! It's just… you know what, yes. Yes, I am yelling at you. I am yelling at you about how awesome you are because I need you to hear it!"

Karen's voice had a hint of a smile in it, "Well I appreciate your vote of confidence." Her tone sobered back up, " I still shouldn't have taken that risk, I got complacent, and it could have ended in so many bad ways."

"OK, if you need this to be a mistake, then fine. Learn from it. Figure out how to make sure it doesn't happen again. But tomorrow when you walk through those doors, you need to know that you are a badass. You don't just run Santa Barbara's police department; you have the respect and admiration of every single one of us. And even more than that, you are an icon for every woman in our building and city. You show what a powerful, caring, smart and badass woman in power can look like. And I am proud to have someone like you as my role model. Don't ever let anyone make you feel any less than that."

Juliet heard a soft sniffle over the speaker and she fought the instinct to start babbling distractions. She had made her point and she needed the Chief to hear it.

"Thank you, Juliet. I should get back to bed, my husband's probably wondering why I left."

"Anytime Karen. I'll see you tomorrow at work."

(click)

BAD BOYS BAD BOYS, WHATCHA GONNA DO

"Strode? Why are you calling at one in the morning?"

"Excellent question detective! You see, my wife had to go night-time surfing with her new friend. Apparently, the swells and crests are divine, but I wasn't allowed to come with... It's strange, I thought it was low-tide right now, but she said-"

Lassiter pinched the bridge of his nose and tried to interrupt, "Why are you calling me?"

"-and then I told her that I'd wait up for her and we could cuddle all the soreness away, but she said that she was going to ride it all night long-"

"Strode!"

"-which is just not fair, I am a fantastic spooner! You should know, you remember that magical night when we-"

"WOODY!"

"Hm? Yes detective?"

"Why. Are. You. Calling?"

"OH! Right. I decided to get in some work with the dead since there wasn't going to be any work with the sheets. You told me to call as soon as I had something on your John Doe."

Lassiter sat up in bed, ready to head to the station. "And?"

"Well, it's the darndest thing. Someone took all of my pineapple popsicles out of the freezer, so I had to go with blue raspberry, and why is it blue anyways?"

"The dead guy. What did you find on the dead guy?"

"My popsicle!"

"What."

"I dropped my popsicle. On the dead guy. You said to call when I found something on him…"

"Oh my god." Lassiter dropped back down into bed and tried desperately to not think about how the coroner's voice had been slightly slurred the whole time. As though still sucking on a popsicle. That had been in contact with a corpse. "Have you found anything useful yet?"

"Well, he's definitely dead."

"Goddamnit Woody, do your damn autopsy and tell me about it in the morning."

"It's morning now!"

"Real morning. When people are supposed to get into work."

"But-"

"And your wife's cheating on you with the surfer."

(click)

I LIKE BIG BUTTS AND I CANNOT LIE

"Shawn, I told you to change this damn ringer"

"Did you? I don't remember that…"

"Bullshit you don't. You had better fix it next time you're over or I swear I'll season your next steak with ghost peppers."

"Papa bear, don't make threats you won't follow up on. We both know you wouldn't ruin a perfectly good cut of meat like that."

Henry let a predatory grin cross his face, knowing he'd won, "Try me."

Shawn sighed, "fine. What's your opinion on Black Eyed Peas?"

"... Why are you calling?"

"Can't a son call just to check up on his old man?"

"Normal people, yes. You? No."

"That hurts. If you must know, I'm calling to see if you've thought anymore about your dog."

Henry clenched his jaw and rolled his eyes, "there is no 'my dog.' I will never get one and if you try to drop one off it's going straight to the pound!"

"I was thinking of a Lassie dog! You get along so well with the human equivalent, and he'd have hair enough for both of you!"

"No Shawn."

"Plus, you always say that keeping Gus and I safe is like herding lions, majestic lions with magnificent hair. Who better to do that than a dog who's literally trained to herd!"

Henry sighed, wondering why he was letting himself play into the obvious joke. "It's herding cats, not lions."

"I've heard it both-"

"NO"

(click)

…

I LIKE BIG BUTTS AND I CANNOT LIE

Henry tossed the phone onto the couch. He had gotten in the last word, and he wasn't going to give Shawn a chance to one-up him.

I LIKE BIG BUTTS AND I CANNOT LIE

He glared at the phone, hoping it could somehow transmit his ire to the man - no, the child - on the other end.

I LIKE BIG BUTTS AND I CANNOT LIE

Of course, it would be just like his son to get into trouble right after he had hung up. He quickly shook away the image of Shawn lying in his own blood, trying desperately to call for help.

I LIKE BIG BUTTS AND I CANNOT LIE

Henry scooted as far down the couch as he could and crossed his arms, his whole body tense. He was not going to let Shawn win.

I LIKE BIG BUTTS AND I CANNOT LIE

Letting out a string of curses, Henry snatched up the phone, "OH MY GOD WHAT?!"

"-Both ways. You're oldandI'mAwesomeOKbyeeeeee!"

(Click)

"Damnit"

BUZZ BUZZ

"Gus? Why are you calling this late? Are you guys in trouble?"

"We're fine Juliet. I'm calling because I need a favor."

"Of course, what is it?"

"You have to promise that you won't tell Shawn about this. Ever."

Juliet put her head in her hands, "why are you telling me this? You know I'm terrible at that kind of thing!"

"Good point."

(Click)

BAD BOYS BAD BOYS, WHATCHA GONNA DO

"Guster, why are you calling me at midnight? Aw crap, did Spencer get kidnapped again?"

"No Lassie, we're both fine. I'm calling to ask a favor and Shawn can't know about it."

Lassiter stood up from the couch where he had fallen asleep, "I am not getting involved in a lover's spat between you and your partner!"

"He's my business partner, and my best friend. And that's why he can never know about this. Ever."

Lassiter paused in organizing the files on his coffee table, unconsciously straightening his spine at the authority in the other man's voice. "What's this about?"

"Blagovski. He needs to be stopped."

"Damnit" the detective muttered, eying the autopsy reports from the child-trafficker's victims still open on the table. "Everyone who's anyone knows he needs to be stopped, but our hands are tied. We have no evidence, we don't have enough of anything for probable cause and even your business partner couldn't 'sense' anything useful."

"I know that." Gus replied coolly. Lassiter couldn't stop the chill in his bones at the other man's tone. " I also know that he runs his business in the backrooms of the Nine Spirits bar. I know that you are duty bound to try to save anyone in distress, even if they're the scummiest of scumbags. I know that someone seizing and screaming in pain counts as distress, even behind a locked door. I know that the location of an attempted poisoning would be a crime scene afterwards, allowing police unfettered access to whatever evidence may or may not be there. And I know that if this poisoning happened in the right place, at the right time, that evidence would let us nail this son of a bitch."

"You need to choose your next words very carefully, Mr. Burton Guster." Lassiter growled into his phone. "And remember that you are speaking to an officer of the law."

"Detective Lassiter, Shawn hasn't slept in 3 days. I'd honestly be surprised if either of you have slept much more than that; I heard that Vick had to threaten your badge before you would even go home to rest. It's only a matter of time before someone snaps- and I think we both know who it'll be- and he's going to get himself killed. Or worse."

"So, you're going to take it on yourself to take care of things instead."

"It's my choice to make."

"Actually, you've just made it my choice. I could report this call. The right prosecutor could even make a case for it being conspiracy to murder."

"All I've said so far are a few well known facts and a couple of hypothetical scenarios."

Lassiter fingered his gun in its holster as he stalked around his living room. "Damnit Guster, that's as flimsy as tissue paper and you know it."

"So, what are you going to do?"

The detective's pacing brought him to the end of the sofa. As he turned he caught sight of the top report on the coffee table, a seven-year-old girl who had been dumped in a river like last week's trash. He closed his eyes and took several deep breaths, trying to talk himself out of what he knew was a terrible idea. "Theoretically, could this poison be traced back to anyone?"

"I'm only a pharmaceutical salesman, hardly an expert. But I would guess that a hypothetical poison could be made as a mix of a few experimental drugs. The exact makeup of those drugs would probably be covered under a mountain of trade secret red tape and non-disclosure agreements. The chances of anyone figuring out the exact drugs, and where they came from, would be extremely low."

"And what are the odds of this mix of drugs being lethal instead of distress-inducing."

"... Bigger than a breadbox, smaller than a car?"

"That would be a hell of a thing for this hypothetical-person to have on his conscience."

"Better his than someone else's."

Lassiter couldn't help but be a bit awed at the other man's loyalty to his friend. Unfortunately, that didn't change what he had to say next, "I won't… I can't cover for a killer. No matter how well intentioned he may have been."

"I wouldn't expect you to."

"Christ." Lassiter pinched the bridge of his nose as he took one last deep breath. "Here's what I'm going to do. Chief Vick sent me home and told me to get some rest. I've done both of those things. I'm going to take a shower and get some food. Then I'm going to go get a drink at the Nine Spirits. I expect to get there at two o'clock, it should take me twenty minutes to finish my drink. Maybe I'll get lucky and see something we missed."

"I can work with that."

"Before you go, let me give you a well-known fact and hypothetical situation of my own. If I find myself in a situation where a crime happened, I have to report any potential witnesses I see. Any witness who wouldn't normally be in the area would be on the top of the suspect list."

"And the hypothetical?"

"I probably don't need to tell you, but a black man poisoning a white man, even a criminal white man, would run a very real risk of receiving the highest penalty possible for the crime."

"Then I guess it's a good thing you won't see a black man there, isn't it?"

"I better not. Look, officially, this conversation never happened."

"And unofficially?"

"Unofficially…. Good luck Gus."

"Thanks Lassie, you too."

(Click)

IN THE ARMS OF AN ANGEL

Shawn's bloodshot eyes struggled to focus on the time on his phone, he saw he had gotten maybe two hours of sleep. "Jules, you guys got something?"

"Better, we got him! Blagovski is going down."

"No way, what happened?!" Shawn sat up, all traces of exhaustion falling away.

"Someone tried to poison him at the bar. Lassiter was there getting a drink and heard him screaming, he had to kick down the door when no one would open it. We found the books when we were processing the scene, the bastard's being detained at the hospital right now!"

"Oh my god, I can't believe Lassie was there, how lucky is that?! One of the families must have figured out where Blago was holed up and decided to take matters into their own hands."

"We're interviewing witnesses now; I doubt we'll get anything. The poison was some homemade concoction, it was designed to hurt, not to kill. Apparently, he was screaming for over an hour."

"Jesus. Sounds like revenge alright. Can't say I'll shed any tears over him though."

"We're going to follow any leads we find, but I don't imagine anyone will be pulling overtime to find this person. There's a handful of us who are going out for celebratory coffee and breakfast at that diner near Lassiter's, you and Gus should join us."

Shawn gave a big smile, "when have we ever turned down food? We'll be there!"

(click)

RING

Gus looked up from the toilet where he'd been kneeling for an hour. He knew the call was going to come, he had been expecting it ever since he'd sneaked away from the bar. It didn't mean he was ready.

RING

He knew he had to answer. Shawn would just come down to his apartment if he didn't. He washed out his mouth and spit the last of the bile left in his mouth into the toilet before flushing.

RING

Gus grabbed his phone and moved into his bedroom. "Shawn, what's going on?"

"Nice rhyming buddy, guess what? We got him! Someone with a grudge and a nasty taste for pain tried to take Blago out and instead lead Lassie right to the jackpot! He's going down."

Gus heard echoes of screams in his head and had to swallow down a lump in his throat. "That's great to hear" he managed to rasp out.

" … Buddy? You ok?"

Gus closed his eyes and tried to remember Henry Spencer's lessons on lying. Kernel of truth, he needed to find a kernel of truth. "I don't think the taco cart was a good idea for dinner. I've been sick for the last hour."

"I don't believe it..." Gus froze, mind starting to panic. "There is no way a fried taco made up of hotdogs, cheddar cheese, chips and chili could possibly be the culprit. Are you accusing that heaven-in-a-shell of turning traitor!?"

Gus relaxed slightly and smiled fondly at his friend's indignation, "I know, right? Curse its sudden yet inevitable betrayal."

"Get feeling better man, I'll eat a waffle in your honor at the celebration breakfast."

"Do me a favor?"

"You don't want a waffle? I'm open to any and all options as long as it isn't green. Green is not for breakfast."

"Don't drink any coffee, your caffeine crash is going to be bad enough as is without any added ammunition."

"Aww, look at you caring for me even when you're not feeling good. I knew you loved me."

(Click)

"Have fun, man" Gus sat on his bed, breathing in the silence. Unbidden, another scream ripped through his memory. He barely made it back to the toilet before his stomach emptied itself again.

Chapter Text

NEAR, FAR, WHEREVER YOU ARE

Henry glanced at the time then back at his phone. He knew a pattern when he saw one.

"I'm not getting a dog, Shawn."

"Papa, you wound me! You have made your thoughts about dogs very clear, and I would never disrespect your wishes." Shawn said in his most innocent voice. Henry knew that tone always meant his son was up to something.

"Uh-huh. So why are you calling for the third Tuesday in a row at 11 at night if not to offer me a pet?"

"I wanted to know your opinion on something"

Henry sat forward in interest, "you've got a case?"

"Nope. I wanted to know if you think the baby could be Chad's."

"Oh, for crying out loud!" Henry looked back at the TV where the infant in question was being held by a lady who looked far too put together for someone who had just given birth.

"It's just ... I don't think Chad's ready, you know? His job barely pays the rent, he's only slept with half of his delivery route, and someone still wants him dead…"

"Relax, he's too dark to be yours."

"... You do realize we're talking about a TV show, right? My name's Shawn, your only son. I only played Chad on TV. Oh dear, your memory is getting worse than I thought."

"Shawn!"

"It's ok Papa Bear, I know dementia can be scary, but I have the perfect thing to help you live your best life."

"Oh great." Henry grumbled, annoyed at himself for walking straight into the trap.

"Cocker spaniels make great assistance dogs, they're calm and smart and have the cutest of ears! Not to mention the name itself is just the gift that keeps on giving. 'Have you shaved your Cocker for the summer?' 'What do you get when you cross a Cocker Spaniel and a Doberman Pinscher? A Cocker Pinscher.' 'If someone ever offers you a Cocker Spaniel, you should take the Spaniel'..."

"Shawn, I will hang up if you don't move on."

"And there's a training center right here in Santa Barbara that has a program for Alzheimer's Aid Dogs!"

"Exactly how much research have you done for this joke?"

"Your life is not a joke! Now, I know change can be hard for people with your condition, so just think about it and try not to forget this conversation before you make a decision. I recommend sticky notes. I can make some calls and get you a cute little fluffy wuffy by Friday!"

"Damnit Shawn, don't you dare make any calls! Those people are working hard to help folks that are in real need, and they don't need to deal with your malarkey!"

"Malarkey? Wow, now you've forgotten how to make real words, you're going downhill fast. You're right, you're way past needing a service dog."

"Thank you! Wait, what?!"

"...And in case you fade away before I see you again, I just want to say… I love you, man."

(click)

"What the hell…?"

RING

"Mr. Spencer?"

"Is Shawn dying?"

Gus pulled the phone away from his ear and looked at it in bewilderment before putting it back, "What?!"

"I just got off the phone with my son and he told me I was right and that he loved me. In the same conversation. Damnit Guster, tell me right now. Is. He. Dying?"

Gus' confusion cleared quickly with a soft 'oh' of understanding, "that's why he was acting so weird on this case."

"What case? He told me he didn't have a case. Burton Guster, you tell me what's going on right now!"

"He's fine Mr. Spencer. I promise. We had a case this week, a man was stabbed to death in his own home. He'd been estranged from his son for years and they just started to get along again…"

There was a sigh over the phone, "the son killed him, didn't he."

"Yeah. Over the stupidest of arguments too. I think it just hit a bit too close to home, you know?"

"Yeah, I know. Thanks Gus. Keep an eye on him for me, will ya?"

"Always."

(click)

BAD BOYS BAD BOYS, WHATCHA GONNA DO

"Spencer, this is the first chance I've had to sleep in my own bed in 2 days. Do not ruin this for me."

"What are your intentions with my best friend?"

Lassiter groaned and began debating with himself if he should just hang up now, "are you drunk?"

"No! I never drink on a case!"

"I saw you knock back a shot just yesterday when we were checking out that bar."

"That was drinking for the job, not on it. It's completely different."

"It really isn't…"

"And don't think I'll let you distract me. What are your intentions with Gus?"

"Why the hell would you think I have any-"

Shawn cut him off, "come on man, I know you swing both ways, the spirits are very clear on this. I know you went to check on him when he was sick after the Blagovski case, which is totally out of character for you, and ever since then you've been… nice." he said the last word as though it left a bad taste in his mouth.

Lassiter decided to skip right over his sexuality reveal - he might not flaunt it, but he was comfortable and proud of who he was. "I am not nice. I merely have a grudging respect for the man for managing to maintain a fraction of professionalism and maturity after being exposed to you for 30 years."

"See, that! That's what I'm talking about! You didn't insult him at all, you barely insulted me! It's weird, man! I can't let this pining go on for any longer. I'm sorry to break your heart, but Gus is as straight as an arrow shot by Robin Hood."

"... arrow trajectories curve after you shoot them…"

"But the arrow is still straight! He's just not that into you man."

Lassiter buried his face in his pillow and briefly considered screaming into it. Instead, he silently counted to 10 before turning back to the phone, "Spencer, I'm going to say this once, and only once, so you listen closely. I am not - and have never been - into Guster."

"... are you into me?"

"I would rather adopt a squirrel than-"

"It's ok if you are, I'd be lying if I didn't have a few fantasies of my own regarding strong Irish hairlines and piercing blue eyes… But I'm sorry to break it to you, Jules and I aren't looking to open up our relationship anytime soon. I'll be sure to keep you in mind if -"

"Spencer. Shut. Up."

"You know I can't do that." Lassiter could practically feel the glee coming out of his phone and he wondered again why he hadn't hung up on the idiot already. "So tell me, if you aren't lovers in the night with Gus, but you're clearly more than work acquaintances, what exactly does that make you?"

"Why do you… we are people who work together and have a mutual respect for how the other does their job. That's it."

"Uh-huh… you know it's just you and me. You can use the f-word, I promise not to tell."

Lassiter blamed sleep deprivation for what he said next, "Fine. Yes. Guster and I are…" he grimaced and forced the next word through his teeth, "friends. Happy now?"

"Lassie! I'm so proud of you! I knew you were a big ol' softy. You can admit it, even I've grown on you!"

"Spencer, you are like mold. You grow everywhere, regardless of whether or not you're welcome. I'm going back to sleep now; I will shoot you where you stand if you tell anyone about this phone call."

As he moved to hang up the phone he heard Shawn's cheerful voice respond, "we like you too Lassieface!"

(click)

DO YOU LIKE PINA COLADAS

"Woody here!"

"Mr. Strode, do you care to explain to me why the Summerland police department contacted me at 2:30 in the morning saying they just arrested my head coroner?"

"Chief! YES! These people have been so nice! They even let me keep my phone while I wait for my wife to come pay bail! It's been a few hours; I hope she didn't get lost…" Woody stood from the interrogation table he had been sitting at and studied the mirror across from him with interest.

"You actually got arrested? What happened!?"

"Well, you see, my wife was out with a friend. His car was broken down and she needed to go over to help check the oil. Which is weird because you don't really need 2 people for that…" Woody leaned in close and put one eye right up to the glass.

"Wrong details, Strode. Wrong details."

He pulled back in a sudden realization, "Maybe her car broke down too! That's probably why she hasn't come to pick me up yet!"

Vick let out an irritated sigh, "Let's try this again. Why were you in Summerland?"

"Well, since my Hunny Bunny was indisposed, I thought I would treat myself to a boy's night out! I remembered a lovely little drag bar over in this area… I tell you what, those men have the best taste in heels!" Woody held up his leg to check out his ankle in the mirror, "do you think I could pull off red pumps?"

"OK, you were in a bar," Vick tried desperately to keep the distractible man on-track. "What happened next?"

"Well, I found myself chatting up two knock-'em-dead, gorgeous women. Or were they men? Maybe a woman and a man?" Woody shrugged to himself, "Either way they were absolutely divine. Now, Elaine and I are entirely exclusive -"

Vick couldn't quite muffle her snort over the phone.

"- but a little bit of flirting never hurt anyone! They even had some amazing brownies they shared with me! And then we had a wonderful galivant through the golden trees of time while dancing through the rainbow!"

"Wait, they gave you a brownie? Did they say anything special about it?"

Woody snapped back defensively, "Why do you care about it? I ate it and I'm not giving it back!"

"Why would I…"

His voice immediately returned to its normal cheerful tone, "OK fine, I hear the yearning in your voice. Don't worry, never let it be said that I don't share." Woody began knocking on the mirror. "Hello, is anyone in there? I need a plastic baggie!"

"Oh my god, no! Woody, the brownie was probably laced with something, if you were drugged without consent then we can probably get your charges dropped!"

"Drugs? Please, I may dabble from time to time -"

"Please don't tell me that."

"- And this was nothing like that. It was pure heaven, wrapped in marshmallow fluff with sparkles of sand falling into pools of lava made of butterflies flying and scurrying and flighting and reflecting colors back that I've never seen… Oh my god. I was drugged!"

"Yeah… I'll speak with their chief; we'll see if we can get you home so you can sleep this off. Do you need me to send someone to pick you up?"

"No. Maybe. Yes? You just have to promise me one thing."

"Please don't make me regret asking this… what?"

"Can I please, please, pleeeeeeease pee in a cup before we go?" Woody bounced on his toes like a kid on Christmas morning.

(click)

"Is that a yes?"

NEAR, FAR, WHEREVER YOU ARE

"Shawn! What the hell do you think you're doing, running off like that? All because you can't handle the truth?! I thought you were past this!"

"You should get a Shih Tzu, it's a whiny little bitch. You two would get along great."

"You've been AWOL for 3 days with only a note to Gus saying you're 'taking a Sabbath' - and it's sabbatical by the way - and that's all you can say to me?!"

"Yep."

(click)

Henry threw the phone across the room, cursing at the top of his lungs. He tried desperately to ignore how the ball of stress lodged in his gut had loosened slightly. Shawn was still alive, he was still angry, and he had still called.

BUZZ BUZZ

Juliet sprung out of bed when she saw who was calling, "Shawn? Where are you?!"

"Jules. Hey."

"You go missing for 5 days, and all you can say is 'Jules hey'? Why did I have to hear from Gus that my boyfriend was leaving town? Why didn't you tell me?!"

"I know, I know, I'm sorry. I needed to deal with some stuff and kinda panicked. And then I got tied up with a thing for a few extra days and I finally got a chance to call you and…" Shawn's voice cut out with a small grunt.

Juliet frowned, she knew that sound, and she hated that she'd heard it enough to recognize it. "Shawn, are you hurt?"

"Uh, yeah, but it's not important right now. Listen, I know you're pissed, and you have every right to be, but I kinda need your help. I need you to call backup, we're somewhere near route 154, and I need you to stay on the line to… Shit!"

Juliet finished putting on her shoes and nearly sprinted to her door. "Shawn?! What's happening?"

All she heard was a muffled static sound, as though Shawn had put his phone back in his pocket without hanging up.

"Damnit, how am I supposed to call for backup if I have to stay on the line for you?!" She muttered to herself as she locked her door. Looking around, she had an idea and ran over to her neighbor's place. Giving a silent apology for the early wakeup she began banging on the door, "SBPD! Open up! This is an emergency!"

She pressed her phone tighter to her ear as she heard Shawn start to talk, voice quieter and muffled through the fabric. "Woah, woah, woah, hey easy man! You got me, I'm not gonna run anymore, you got me, you can put the gun down!"

Juliet cursed and raised her hand to start pounding on the door again when it opened up to a little old lady in a nightgown. "Oh, thank god, I'm a detective with the SBPD, I need to use your phone right now!"

The lady looked concerned at Juliet and said, "but dearie, you already have a phone…"

"I know, I need another phone. Please, this is a matter of life and death!"

"Well ok dearie, my landline's in the kitchen. Do you really not have a landline? Tsk, young people these days thinking they only need their newfangled cellular phones…"

Juliet made a beeline for the kitchen as soon as the door opened, ignoring the old lady's rant. She could hear a deeper voice speaking to Shawn. It was hard to tell for sure, but it sounded threatening. She hoped he could stall long enough for them to get there as she picked up the receiver of the phone and dialed Vick's number from memory.

"Chief, this is O'Hara. Shawn is in danger and needs help right away. He's injured and there's at least one armed assailant. I have him on my cell now, but he's unable to answer. We need to trace the call and get him out of there."

She only half paid attention to the other woman's response, focusing instead on Shawn's voice, "look man, I didn't lie about being psychic, I just don't like using my powers to get other people dead!"

"Karen, I don't think he can stall for long. He said they were near route 154. Gus' apartment is on the way, call him and tell him to be ready at the curb in 5 minutes, use his phone to contact me when you get an exact location." Juliet hung up before the Chief could argue. It didn't count as disobeying an order if she never heard it.

Juliet shook her head at her own logic as she turned back around; Shawn was starting to rub off on her. She dashed out of the door, hollering a quick thank you over her shoulder, and headed towards her car.

As soon as she was behind the wheel, she put her cell on speaker and set it up on the dash. Her heart nearly stopped as she heard Shawn start to plead, "wait wait wait, please! You don't have to do this!"

"Shit. Shit. Shit." she chanted frantically as she started the ignition and hauled ass out of the parking lot. She prayed that she wasn't about to hear her boyfriend get shot dead over her phone while she was powerless to do anything.

"Think about Anabell!"

The silence following Shawn's frantic exclamation was deafening and Juliet found herself holding her breath as she tore through the empty streets. She released it as she heard the deep voice again, hesitantly asking something.

"How do I know about Anabell? I'm a psychic, remember? I told you I wasn't lying. And her spirit is here, she's been trying to send a message to you for days, man. She's yelling so loud, she's drowning everything else out, she's desperate, desperate for you to know!"

Juliet barely stopped at the curb before Gus jumped into her car. All of her focus was on listening to Shawn, his voice becoming louder and more frantic as he was caught up in his vision.

Gus didn't say a word, he just held up his phone so Juliet could see the map with a waypoint marked on it. She nodded in understanding, screeching back onto the main road. The trace had worked and she was going to go save her boyfriend.

Deep-voice cut off Shawn's vision, his yell loud enough to be heard over the phone, "what does she want!"

Shawn answered, sounding wore out, voice tight with barely concealed pain, "she needs you to know, she forgives you. You didn't mean to kill her, she knows that, man. She doesn't want you to throw your life away because of a mistake. You've gotten into some deep shit, sure, but you aren't a murderer. She knows it. She needs you to know it."

Juliet felt a lump in her throat at the sincerity in his voice. She wasn't sure how much of his vision had been real and how much had been a stalling attempt, but she knew that this part was all Shawn. This man who cared so much about everyone, even the people threatening him, was the man that she had fallen desperately in love with. A quick glance at the navigation app had her choking back a sob, they were still so far away.

"Look man, your friends are almost here, you know they're going to kill me. You have a choice. Are you a murderer? Or is Annabel right?"

Gus let out a low whine of distress, the first sound he made since entering the car. Juliet looked over at him and noticed his hands were clutching his seatbelt so hard they were turning white. "It's ok, he's got this, he's going to be fine" she reassured them both as she tried to press the accelerator through the floor.

Deep-voice started answering, his words slowly becoming easier to hear. Juliet realized he must be moving closer to Shawn. "she's right, I'm not a murderer. But I can't let you go. They'll kill me, you understand, right?"

"You can come with me! I have friends that can keep us safe!"

Juliet wasn't a violent person, but she knew if she was able to be there right at this moment, she wouldn't hesitate to put a bullet between the eyes of every last one of the bastards who had put that fear into Shawn's voice. Annabel be damned.

Deep-voice answered back, sounding surer of himself, "We've had you for two days and no one's come looking for you. You don't have friends. Stop. Lying!"

"I'm not lying, I swear! Call the SBPD -" Shawn's voice cut off as the distinct sound of a gun being cocked could be heard through the speaker.

"You want me to call the police?! Do I look that stupid? Shut up! Turn around, on your knees, hands on your head. I don't want to shoot you, but I will if you run again."

There was soft rustling over the phone, Juliet realized Shawn was moving around, probably following the gunman's instructions, uncharacteristically quiet.

"Oh no…" Gus muttered next to her. "Shawn, please, please don't do anything stupid…"

Shawn confirmed Gus' fears with a quiet, "Sorry Jules…" before the phone erupted in sounds of a fight.

Juliet fell back on her police training to mentally distance herself from the grunts of pain and thuds of blows being traded. She focused on the road flying by instead, they couldn't help Shawn if they ended up in a ditch. A small voice kept chanting in her head, "too far, too far, too far…."

Frantic yells joined in the commotion over the phone and the detective-side of her brain quickly catalogued at least 3 new voices. The sounds of fighting died down to small scuffles and then just heavy panting.

"I can't believe you almost let him get away, you imbecile!" A new commanding voice yelled, swiftly followed by a sharp slap.

"I got him back, didn't I?" Deep-voice whined back, "and he proved to me he really is psychic! We can still use him!"

"What we can still do is put a bullet in his brain and clear out before any of this mess blows back on us!" Commanding-voice snarled back.

"Oh my god" Gus whispered, staring in terror at the cell phone.

"Wait, wait, wait! I can find him!" Shawn's voice rasped out. "Gary Jones, right? Your partner that cut and run with all of your money, leaving you high and dry? Wouldn't it be more fun putting a bullet in his brain instead of mine?"

Juliet thought she recognized the name but couldn't place it. She looked over, prepared to tell Gus to text the info to Lassiter, and saw that he was already doing so.

"Maybe, but your brain's right here, his isn't. And really? I don't think you can actually find him, psychic." Commanding-voice spit out the last word like a curse.

"You didn't tell me his name, but I found that didn't I? Give me an hour, a Ouija board, and a large bag of combos and I can get you exact GPS coordinates."

"Get him up boys." There was some more rustling and static, followed by a grunt and a cough of pain. Juliet quickly shook away the image of Shawn doubled over in pain after being punched in the gut. Her internal voice was becoming more panicked, 'too far, too far…"

"Counter-offer" Commanding-voice continued, voice loud and clear over the speaker, as though he was right on top of the psychic. "You 'commune' with your spirit buddies and tell me where he is now, or I start to shoot body parts off … What the hell?!"

There was a loud scratch of static and the sounds on Shawn's side suddenly became clear. Juliet felt a rush of fear as she realized the phone had been removed from his pocket.

"You didn't think to check him after he ran?!" Commanding-voice boomed out of the speaker, "He's on a phone call you idiot! The cops are probably on their way right now! Damnit!" There was a sickening crack sound and Shawn's screams cut through the air. Juliet jerked the wheel in reflex at the sound and barely managed to maintain control of her car.

"You, go back to the room and torch it. You, get him in the car, we can't leave any evidence. And YOU" Commanding voice spoke directly through the phone, "If I see a hint of cops, pretty boy psychic won't live to see morning."

(click)

"DAMNIT! Gus, how far?" Juliet looked over to see the other man covering his mouth while hyperventilating. "GUS! He's still alive, how far are we?"

He swallowed heavily and glanced at his phone, "twenty minutes."

Juliet forgot how to breathe as she continued to tear down the road on auto pilot. The voice in her head overpowered any other thoughts, 'too far, too far, too far…'

BAD BOYS BA-

"Guster, what do you got?"

"He's gone." Gus rasped, sounding on the verge of panic.

Lassiter's heart stuttered, "What do you mean he's gone?"

"He couldn't stall the bad guys anymore, they found his phone, they know we're here and they were hurting him and they took him into a car and they're going to kill him if we follow and I can't… I can't…"

"Gus, calm down. You won't be able to help him if you pass out. Breathe."

"Lassie, he was screaming…" Gus' voice broke and Lassiter let out a curse.

"Gus, listen to my voice. Breathe in… hold it… out. Again." As he listened to the other man get back under control, the detective turned to the tall man in his passenger's seat, "Suspects are fleeing in a vehicle. Are there any side roads they could turn off between us and where the Solvang's Sheriff's got a roadblock set up?"

Mcnab scanned the atlas spread across his knees, "No sir, there might be some small roads not on the map, but nothing notable."

"Radio ahead, update them on the situation, tell them we're going to set up our own barricade... here." Lassiter pointed to a spot a few miles north of their location. He turned back to the phone, "Gus, are you back with me?"

"Yeah. Thanks. Juliet and I are still heading to where they were, see if we can figure out which direction they went. But Lassie, the bad guy in charge said they'd kill Shawn if they saw any cops…"

Lassiter grimaced, "We ran that name Shawn gave us, Gary Jones. His last known partner was Jacob Smith, a notorious gun runner who leads his own gang and is the primary suspect for over five murders across the western coast. We have him cornered; we can't take the risk of someone that dangerous getting away."

"...Are you KIDDING me right now?!" Lassiter winced and pulled the phone away from his ear to protect against hearing loss, "Shawn willingly puts his life on the line every day for you, he's saved your life multiple times, he's solved over a hundred of your cases and now you're just going to throw him away so you can get an arrest?! Exactly how much commendation do you think this collar will get you? How many ambition points is Shawn's life worth? I REALLY WANT TO KNOW!"

Lassiter pulled over to the side of the road and signaled Mcnab to start organizing the roadblock. He heard Juliet try to talk down the angry man, "Stop it! That is my partner you're yelling at, and you know he's doing the best he can-"

"No, I do NOT know that! Because MY partner is tied up and bleeding out somewhere and no one seems to care!"

Lassiter slammed open his door and stalked over to the tree line, "BURTON, don't you dare tell me no one cares! When the call came in that Spencer needed backup every single uniform in the building volunteered to go. Even the desk jockeys! He may not have a badge, but he is one of us and we protect our own. We can't let this bastard go because he will keep hurting and killing people, starting with your partner! This is Shawn's best chance, and we are going to take it."

"But-"

"No. It's my turn. You are riding with the best detective I have ever worked with, and for some ungodly reason she is head-over-heels in love with that man, do you really think anything is going to stop her from keeping him safe? She is my partner and I'll support any move she makes, I have the highest gun accuracy rating in the greater Santa Barbara area and you can damn well be sure I'll make the shot if one of my people is in danger. Do you understand?"

"Yeah, yeah I do, but Shawn-"

"It honestly pains me to say this, but when the cards are on the table and everything's on the line, he handles himself better than most cops I know. He won't go down without a fight. We won't let him lose that fight."

"OK, yeah, you're right. Sorry Lassie, it's just… oh my god, that's them!"

Juliet answered before Lassiter could say anything, "Gus, we can't chase every car we see. We have to make sure-"

"I am sure! Turn around! Now!"

"Gus-"

"Didn't you see? The brake light was broken, someone kicked it! It's them!"

"That's practically a Shawn Spencer trademark, good man!" Lassiter growled as he moved back towards Mcnab. "What kind of car are we looking at?"

The sounds of screeching tires were quickly followed by Gus gasping out, "red sedan, heading back south, Jules and I are following."

"Tell O'Hara to stay back and wait to box them in at the roadblock. Mcnab should have sent you the location already. We can't spook them too early."

"Yeah, we got it. I can see the car; it looks like there's only two people in it. I can't see Shawn."

"Don't tell him I told you this, but I really hope he's in the trunk again. That would make this go a lot easier."

There was some soft shuffling on the other side, then Juliet's voice came through clear, "Lassiter, we're about 5 minutes from the blockade, make sure everyone's ready. We'll cut this side of the road off as soon as we're in visual range."

"We're all in position here. Let's get our boy back."

(click)

"Get ready people, this is it!" He bellowed across the swarm of police officers. The sounds of dozens of weapons being primed faded into a tense silence as they all kept their eyes on the road. Lassiter sighted down his pistol as he saw a red car hurtling their way. His eyes narrowed and his finger tightened around the trigger, he had a friend to save.

BEEP BEEP BEEP

Karen glanced at the phone on her desk and sighed. It had been a long night and she really wasn't looking forward to this call.

BEEP BEEP BEEP

She let out one more breath before answering, "Henry."

"Karen, do you want to explain why I had to hear from the hospital that my son was being treated for multiple injuries that sounded a hell of a lot like he'd been tortured?!"

"As you know, your son left town on his own accord 5 days ago. We weren't aware that his situation had changed until late last night. We were on a tight timetable once the call went out and everyone's focus was on the rescue operation."

"Why didn't you call me? That's my son! I should have been there!"

"No Henry, you shouldn't have been there. I know you and Shawn had an argument that was bad enough for him to run less than a week ago. That kind of a loose cannon variable in an already high stress situation could have easily caused casualties."

"That wasn't your call to make!"

Karen's eyes flashed with anger, "The hell it wasn't! Or did you forget you're talking to the Chief of Police?!"

She heard a door close and the distinct sound of keys falling to the ground. Henry's snarled "damnit!" was followed by a car door slamming.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"I thought I would go fishing," he snapped with venomous sarcasm, "where the hell do you think I'm going?"

"Henry. Stop."

"No! You may have been able to keep me from my son when he needed my help, but you can't keep me from him now."

Karen straightened in her chair, bracing for a fight. "I don't have the authority to keep you away from that hospital, but Shawn does."

"Excuse me?" Henry snarled. If tones could kill, she would be dead in her office right now.

"Mr. Spencer was awake and aware when he was brought into the hospital. He gave the staff clear instructions when they asked, you were to be informed of his condition but not allowed to visit."

"Not allowed? And they listened? Since when does he know what's good for him?!"

" He is an adult-"

Henry snorted in disbelief, the sound of an engine starting rumbled in the background.

"-whether you want to believe it or not and he has the right to decide who can visit him."

"I am his FATHER, I think I know what's best-"

"You clearly didn't know what was best when you ran your son off five days ago." Vick interrupted coolly.

"And you think he does? For crying out loud, he went to take a vacation from reality and managed to get himself kidnapped within a week!"

"Mr. Spencer gave us his statement after he was treated. He was already heading back to town when he stopped at a twenty-four-hour diner. His waitress had lost her grandma's necklace; He told her where to find it and explained that he was psychic."

"Of course he did…"

"A man sitting a few booths down, a man we now know was Jacob Smith-"

Henry cursed, recognizing the name.

"-overheard him. He needed someone with Mr. Spencer's abilities to track down his old partner…"

"So, what you're telling me is that Shawn blabbed his big mouth and it got him into trouble, just like I knew it would! You know what, I'm DONE. This has gone on long enough. He was damned lucky he didn't get killed this time! I'm not letting there be a next time. Karen, Shawn isn't a-"

"HENRY WILLIAM SPENCER, don't you DARE finish that sentence!" Vick roared over the phone as she sprung to her feet.

Several heads popped up in the precinct, staring at the furious woman with a mix of awe and fear. She spun around so her back was to the windows, hands shaking in anger as she continued with fire in her voice, "Shawn is a valuable asset to this station and has helped close an unprecedented number of cases. I seem to recall he even solved some you were never able to. More than that he is one of us and if it comes down to it, I will ban you from this station to keep you from hurting him or his future. Do I make myself clear?"

"Karen, he's-"

"Someone who did a good thing and then found himself in a bad situation. My god Henry, you couldn't have been more of a cliché victim-blamer if you'd asked what he was wearing! If this is how your argument went then I don't blame him for leaving!"

She heard the truck engine turn off and after a few seconds Henry broke the silence, sounding much more subdued, "Damnit... If he had died, the last thing I would have said to him…"

Karen took a breath and forced herself to relax her death grip on the phone, "He's still alive, Henry. And his injuries, while numerous, aren't anything a few weeks and some physical therapy won't heal. You have time to make it right."

"How am I supposed to do that if he doesn't even want to see me?"

"For one, respect his wishes. Show him you see him for the adult he is. And while you're waiting for him, ask yourself this: Which is more important, his happiness or your need to be right?"

Henry let out a deep sigh, "I really screwed up, didn't I?"

"Yeah, you really did." Vick answered with a wry smile, "Welcome to being human. It's not always fun down here, but we get by."

"Can you promise me he's safe?"

"Smith was killed during the final confrontation. The other man with him managed to grab Smith's gun before he could hurt anyone, he surrendered peacefully once his boss was no longer a threat. The other two accomplices were apprehended by the blockade set at the other end of the highway. We still have guards posted at Shawn's room as a precaution, but we don't think he's in anymore danger."

"Wait, Smith's guy protected Shawn?"

"Apparently he had recently received a message from his dead sister telling him he wasn't a murderer."

"Son of a bitch. Shawn."

"It seems like it."

"Damn that boy's good."

"I know. I'm not the one you should be telling that to."

"Yeah, you're probably right."

"Goodbye Henry, and good luck."

(click)

YOU KNOW IT'S THRILLER, THRILLER NIGHT

"Hey buddy, I know you missed me these last few days, but you do know you just saw me like an hour ago, right?"

"Shawn, you have two cracked ribs, a broken arm, you were knocked around on the head and you're covered in bruises and cuts. Why the hell did you leave the hospital?! it hasn't even been a day!"

Shawn waved his good arm in the air for emphasis, before wincing at how the movement pulled at a particularly large cut on his side. "Gussy Gus, don't be the last sucker in the candy bucket that no one wants. All I was gonna do there was lay in bed, eat Jell-O, practice spiking my hair with one hand and make fun of daytime TV. I can do all those things and more right here at home."

"You can't get morphine at home. You can't get monitored by professionals at home. You can't have food brought to you by beautiful women at home…"

"I can't be stuck by more pointy things at home, I can't have my beauty sleep interrupted every two hours at home, I can't be locked in a room with everyone staring at me like I'm going to break at home…" Shawn countered.

"Oh no, you're still going to be getting woken up every 2 hours Shawn. The first twenty-four to forty-eight hours are the most important when assessing how dangerous a concussion is. If you refuse to let that bombshell of a nurse check you out, then you get to deal with me calling you instead. And if you don't answer I will come over there and take back every DVD and video game that was paid for with my money."

"Gus, you know I only have eyes for Jules. But even if that weren't the case, know that I would pick your perfect, shiny dome over a redhead anyway."

"Fine. I'll see you in two hours."

"I don't think you can 'see' anything over the phone…"

(Click)

YOU KNOW IT'S THRILLER, THRILLER NIGHT

"Wow, you are a whole 1 minute late. I could have died."

"Not funny, Shawn."

"Too soon?"

"What's Cordell Walker's real last name?"

Shawn found himself caught off guard by the unexpected question, "Uh… Buddy, are you sure you weren't the one hit on the head…?"

"It's a question designed to test your long-term memory, something that can be impaired by brain trauma."

"And that's what you went with? You don't want to know which kids were secretly into you in grade school or where I buried Mr. Snufflebear?"

"…. I KNEW you didn't lose him! Where is he, Shawn!"

"Firewalker was his last name, which is so cool, he never should have changed it."

"Where. Is. He?!"

"Chuck Norris?"

"MR. SNUFFLEBEAR!"

"You do know he's been in the ground for twenty years, right? It doesn't seem respectable to dig him up after all this time, I bet he doesn't even smell like blueberries anymore."

"I can't believe you actually buried him!"

"You were taking him to school! It was embarrassing! I was doing you a favor."

"I can't do this with you right now."

"You're welcome!"

(Click)

YOU KNOW IT'S THRILLER, THRILLER NIGHT

"Aww man, I just managed to fall asleep. Do you know how hard it is to get comfortable with a cast on?"

"What's the matter? I thought casts were a good thing, something about a weapon attached to your arm?"

"Come on son, even Lassie doesn't actually sleep with his weapons on him."

"…"

"…"

"Oh my god, he totally sleeps with a gun on him!" Shawn exclaimed excitedly, trying to sit up at his realization before gasping at the sharp pains in his arm and sides mixed with a deep bruising ache through his whole body.

"Shawn?"

"I'm good" He managed to grunt out, eyes closed as he rode out the pain.

"...Can you walk a straight line?"

"What? I'm beat up, not drunk."

"Dizziness and vertigo are common symptoms of concussions."

"Oh, is that why the room is spinning?"

"Shawn, that's not good! You need to be at the hospital!"

"Calm down, I was joking."

"I don't believe you, stand up and walk to your bathroom right now while I'm on the phone."

Shawn eyed the distance between his bed and the door across the room, "Buddy… I just got the bed warmed up to the perfect sleeping temperature, don't make me break the hot pocket seal of blankets… can't I just recite all of the Mario Kart stages or something instead?"

"I know it hurts. Walk to the bathroom, there's a bottle of Advil in your cabinet. You can take two of them, it'll help."

The injured man bit his lip, weighing the pros and cons of moving. Another sharp twinge from his arm made up his mind and he slowly slid his feet out from under the blankets, "how do you know what I have in my cabinet?"

"Who do you think stocked them?"

Shawn smirked as he began shuffling across the floor, "you're always looking out for me."

"Someone has to."

"Alright, I made it and the room didn't flip on me once. Shawn-2: Concussion-0." Shawn opened the cabinet and couldn't help but raise his eyebrows in shock. "Dude, what did you do, raid an entire hospital?"

"With your luck I figured your first aid kit should be more of a first aid room…"

"Is that… is that an IED?"

"Oh my god, there's a bomb?!"

"What, no! One of those paddle things for when a heart stops. Can we practice with that?! I've always wanted to be the person who yells 'clear!'"

"It's called an AED, Automated External Defibrillator, and don't you ever make me have to use it."

"You sure you don't need one now? You sound like you just had a heart attack."

"I thought I was about to hear you explode!"

"Don't worry, I would never do something so spectacular without you here with me."

"I… You… Just take your damn pills!"

"Done. Can I go back to bed now?"

"One last question. What was your nurse's name?"

"Cindy."

"Good."

"Night."

(Click)

YOU KNOW IT'S THRILLER, THRILLER NIGHT

"I think you're actually managing to ruin Michael Jackson for me."

"Nonsense, nothing can ruin the king."

"I woke up, I'm still alive, can I go back to bed?"

"Answer my question first."

"You're worse than my dad."

"What was the name of your last nurse? Full name this time."

"I take it back. Dad's the absolute worst, I should never have insulted you so badly. Do you realize he didn't even visit me in the hospital?"

"You told him not to come, don't you remember?"

"…. No. I don't. Damn I hate morphine sometimes. Wait, he actually listened to me?"

"What happened between you two? I thought things were getting better?"

"Cindy Balefield. She works Fridays, weekends and Wednesday nights."

"Wait, how did you…"

Shawn grinned, "I saw her schedule on her clipboard. That 'intact brain' enough for you?"

"You should call him; he's probably worried about you."

"I'll call him on Tuesday, I gotta figure out what dog embodies the spirit of someone who refuses to acknowledge that there's more than one way to live a life. Bonus points if that dog also refuses to accept any responsibility for anything that goes wrong and instead SHIFTS it all over ONTO HIS SON!" Shawn found himself yelling by the end.

There was a pause over the phone before Gus replied, "Dogs? Really?"

Shawn deflated, "It's almost tradition by this point."

"… you wanna talk about it?"

"I really can't believe that he listened when I told him to stay away… have you checked on him? Maybe he had a heart attack or something."

"Word at the station is that Vick laid into him over the phone. Full blown fear-of-god stuff. Maybe she managed to actually get him to listen."

"She didn't!"

"Unless you know another Henry William Spencer around, she did."

"Huh. remind me to give her a kiss."

"I will not. Though speaking of kissing... I don't suppose you managed to see the nurse's phone number on that clipboard?"

"Oh my god, are you really using my injuries to try and pick up a girl? I can't believe you!"

(Click)

YOU KNOW IT'S THRILLER, THRILLER NIGHT

"Oh thank god, I was having the weirdest dream"

"It's time to go to the bathroom again."

"Dude, I'm in my thirties, I don't need to be reminded to go pee."

"The Advil is going to wear off soon, you're going to want to take some Tylenol before that happens."

Shawn sighed and stared up at his ceiling. "I don't wanna move."

"And you 'won't wanna move' even more when you don't have any pain meds in your system."

"Future-Shawn can deal with that…"

"No, Current-Shawn is going to deal with it because Future-Shawn is just Current-Shawn in 2 hours."

"I don't think that was nearly as compelling as you think it was."

"Fine, how's this for compelling. Get out of bed or I'll tell Jules about your secret energy drink stash at the station."

"No! You know how she's been since that stripper case!"

"You were awake for four and a half days straight. When you finally crashed you were comatose for almost two more. I don't blame her for cutting you off."

"It's not my fault that sleep doesn't seem important when we're on a case.'

"You're stalling, Get out of bed or kiss your emergency 'sleep-in-a-bottle' goodbye."

"Ugh, fine. But just for that you get to hear about my dream" Shawn stood up, grateful to note how much less the trip hurt this time around. Maybe Gus had a point.

"I don't want to know about your sick-"

"So Wall-E was flying around in space trying to find where Vulcan was, which is ridiculous cause it blew up and all that. He was picking up trash near Alderaan, which also blew up now that I think about it, when a stray asteroid hit his arm…"

"Shawn. Please tell me you're almost to the medicine cabinet."

"… so he crashed onto this planet where there were dinosaurs dancing everywhere…" Shawn opened the cabinet, keeping up his dream commentary.

"I swear, if you keep talking I will be calling the hospital to tell them you clearly have brain damage. Tylenol. Two pills."

"Got 'em. Speaking of injuries, When Wall-E met Barney, he didn't have an arm, his wheel tread was falling off and one of his eyes was dark… OH! I'm Wall-E! I really hope you're not Barney, he was far too interested in the extendable vacuum hose..."

"Oh my god."

(Click)

Shawn grinned in triumph at his phone before a realization hit him. He had let Gus have the last word. Maybe he was concussed…

Henry sat down at his table, nervously tapping his beer bottle. He checked the clock for what felt like the hundredth time.

10:59

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and started turning it around in his free hand. "Come on, come on, ring…"

11:00

Henry stared at the phone, holding his breath, willing it to light up.

11:01

He closed his eyes as the minute ticked past.

11:02

Henry could feel his hope trickling like sand through his fingers as he hung his head.

11:03

NEAR FAR, WHEREVER YOU ARE

He jumped at the sudden music, scrambling to open his phone. "Shawn!"

He could hear the hesitance in his son's voice, "Dad."

"I didn't think you were going to…. How are you feeling?"

"Remember when I jumped off the roof with an umbrella? A bit like that."

Henry huffed out a laugh at the memory, "I still can't believe you thought Mary Poppins was real."

"I was 8, I thought everything was real. At least I made sure to use the biggest umbrella I could find so it would hold my weight."

"God, that thing was a monstrosity. I never told you, but I was so glad to see that thing trashed… though it would have been nice if its demise hadn't come at the cost of those medical bills."

"Speaking of medical… you didn't visit. At the hospital."

"You told me not to."

"Huh."

Henry found himself fidgeting in silence. He needed to say so many things, but they kept getting jumbled up and stuck together before he could figure out how to say them out loud. Even he could acknowledge that he was terrible at anything regarding emotions or apologies. He had just opened his mouth to say something, though he wasn't quite sure what yet, when Shawn started to speak again.

"You know, it's funny. I thought for sure you would have been yelling at me to change your ringtone within the first week of Dion, but you haven't mentioned it yet. I had so many good stingers lined up too… It was going to be a whole thing."

Henry let out his breath and smirked slightly, "I knew you had to have something planned, so I figured it was my turn to flip the tables. I had a bucket of ice waiting in the deep freezer for the next time you crashed here. You were going to be woken up with a reenactment of that door scene."

"Oh. My. God. That is so childish and petty!"

"Yeah, well, don't worry. I've already emptied the bucket."

"Wow. You know, I was going to offer you a pit bull this week -They never let anything go once they get their teeth sunk in, ya know? - but with this new information? Dude, it's gotta be a Jack Russel Terrier. Embrace your inner child!"

Henry relaxed slightly at the banter, "That breed is the embodiment of you as a kid. I barely survived the first round, no thanks." He winced, realizing as soon as the words had left his mouth that he had gone too far too soon.

"Funny." Shawn replied flatly, all traces of humor gone. "Last I heard, I was still a toddler. A 'toddler playing grown up because I'll never be good enough to be a real cop.' Or something like that, you know how I am at remembering exact words. I think there was something about a divorce in there too…"

"Shit. Shawn, look-"

"Dad, just, don't." The younger man sighed. "Can't we just talk about how your dog could read books to you so you don't have to use your reading gla-"

"I was wrong."

The ensuing silence seemed to stretch into infinity as Henry gripped the edge of the table with his free hand. He was about to pull the phone away from his ear to check that the call hadn't disconnected when he finally heard Shawn stutter, "W-what?"

"I… was wrong. I shouldn't have said those things, especially about your mother. You drive me up a wall sometimes, and I will never understand how your convoluted methods manage to get results-"

"I'm assuming there's a 'but' coming real soon."

"-BUT, a toddler wouldn't have been able to empathize with a man who was holding a gun on him. A toddler wouldn't have been able to get vital information to the police while under duress. He definitely wouldn't have been able to figure out that vital information in the first place. A toddler wouldn't have been able to get a hardened criminal to turn against his boss..."

"You heard about that? Also… can you stop with the toddler thing? It's weird."

Henry swallowed and placed his hand flat on the table to ground himself. He hoped Shawn could hear the sincerity in his voice, "Fine. I'll put it a different way. If our positions had been swapped, I don't think I could have handled myself half as well as you did, especially the empathy part. You've got something special, kid."

"… who are you and what have you done with my father?"

"I will never be OK with you putting yourself in danger all the time, but you keep showing me that you're able to handle yourself when things go sideways. And you've also managed to surround yourself with some of the best people possible to watch your back. This week has made me painfully aware that you don't need me, and… maybe I'm not ready to be written out of your life yet."

"Wow. Um, I don't really know what to do with that."

"Good, 'cause neither do I…" The following silence was a much more comfortable one, "you know, I read your statement and there's one thing I can't figure out. How did you know the partner's name?"

"Lassie's Most Wanted wall. I recognized Smith from the picture, Jone's name was in the description of known associates."

Henry felt the corners of his mouth turn up in pride, "I guess Lassiter is going to have to find a new file to put up in that space."

Shawn chuckled, "Yeah. I wonder if he keeps a tally of how many of those perps he's personally taken out or arrested. Did you know he was the one that took the kill shot?"

"Yeah, I read that, he's a good man. And a hell of a marksman." Henry chewed the inside of his cheek deciding whether to push things anymore tonight. "You know, Mrs. Pinkerwell heard you were hurt and dropped off a pineapple upside down cake for you. I could… I mean, if you want… I could bring it to your place."

"I dunno, that kind of thing doesn't travel well…"

Henry ran his hand over his head, his shoulders drooping in disappointment. He'd known it was too much to hope that they'd fixed things in just one conversation.

"How about I come to you and we can eat it while we catch up on Explosion Gigantesca. I missed last week's episode and I need to know what happened at that dinner."

Henry swallowed around a lump in his throat, "Yeah son, I'd like that. I'd like that a lot."

"Awesome, I'll be there in twenty minutes."

(Click)

Chapter Text

BUZZ

"Hey Lassiter, what's up?" Juliet hunkered down in her cocoon of blankets, glaring at the hotel's inadequate room heater and transparent curtains that were doing nothing to stop the chill leaching into the room.

"I… I need… I mean, I hoped you… fuck. Never mind. Goodnight O'Hara."

Juliet narrowed her eyes at the slight tremble in his voice, "Carlton, what's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, It's dumb. Sorry for waking you."

(click)

Juliet stared at her phone in bewilderment, she had never heard Lassiter apologize unprompted before. Her eyes drifted out the window as she replayed the short conversation over in her head, looking for clues. The floating snow caught her attention as it blew softly into the glass, rising and falling in a snowglobe-like dance. Her face cleared in realization as she swung her feet out onto the cold floor. Her partner needed her, and she wasn't going to let anyone stop her from helping. Not even him.

BAD BOYS BAD BOYS, WHATCHA GONNA DO

Lassiter groaned as he looked at who was calling. He was curled up in the far corner of his room, as far from the window as possible, nestled in every blanket he could find. "O'Hara, I'm fine. Go back to sleep."

"Actually, I was hoping you could help me."

He blinked in surprise, "Why?"

"Because we're partners and I knew you were already awake?"

"No, I know, I mean…" Lassiter gritted his teeth, trying to focus, "What do you need?"

"I'm never doing an overnight job in the mountains again. This storm sucks, the cold sucks, my heater sucks and I can't sleep. Can I come over to your room to warm up?"

Lassiter refused to glance at his heater that was sitting unassumingly below the window of nightmares. "Why do you think my room will be any better?"

"Well Shawn is always telling me about the perks of sharing body heat-"

"WHAT?!" Lassiter squawked, managing to forget the pinpricks of burning skin for the first time since he woke up, "there is no way in hell-"

Juliet's laughter rang through the phone at his indignation, "I'm sure Shawn will be relieved to know that he has nothing to worry about from you."

"I would never!"

"I know."

"No seriously. Never."

Her voice took on a wry edge, "OK, Carlton, you've made your point."

"Maybe I would have thought about it a few years ago, but-"

"So!" Juliet interrupted loudly, " Can I come over?"

Lassiter clamped his mouth shut before he could keep babbling. "Don't think I don't know what you're doing."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." She replied in a high, smooth voice. He recognized the tone and could almost see the wide innocent eyes she used when she played the dumb blonde to catch criminals off-guard.

"O'Hara…"

"I have cards for poker and bubble gum to bet with. What do you got?"

Lassiter sighed, he knew his partner well enough to know when to accept defeat. "... I have some red vines. In case we had to stake anyone out."

"There you go! Now we have a plan and everything!" Lassiter heard the wind blowing louder over the phone and he shook his head, trying to banish the memories of the dream pressing in on him.

There was a sudden knocking at the door and he jumped, fumbling his phone as adrenaline raced through his body. He stared at the door before his gaze slid over to the window against his will. The real world snapped away and he was suddenly trapped again. freezing and burning, a relentless assault he could never escape; choking and drowning and burning and white pressing in on all sides and stealing his breath, suffocating in the cold...

A voice called to him, breaking through the globe, "Carlton! It's ok, it's me! I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to… Carlton, breathe! Close your eyes and just listen to my voice, OK? You're safe, I'm right here to watch your back, nothing can hurt you right now. I've got you, but I need you to breathe for me, ok? Just breathe."

Lassiter squeezed his eyes shut and tried to block out thoughts of frozen horrors as he gasped for breaths at his partner's prompting. After several shaky inhales he was able to push out one word, "O'Hara?"

"Good, you're doing great. I can see you, ok? You're doing great."

His face scrunched up, still keeping his eyes closed, as he tried to figure out how she could see him.

"I'm standing at the window. I can see you and you're safe."

At the mention of the window Lassiter tried to scoot even further back into the corner with a small whimper.

"Hey hey, it's ok. I'm right here and I've got your back, right? Listen, I've got an idea, just keep your eyes closed and keep breathing.

He did as she said, reality slowly overtaking the nightmare world as his breathing evened out. He was just starting to feel the early twinges of shame at his panic when Juliet's voice came back over the phone, "OK, Carlton, I need you to trust me. Open your eyes."

Lassiter hesitated, but he trusted his partner with his life. He forced his eyes open then blinked in confusion at the scene in front of him. Juliet was smiling warmly at him through the window with her arms stretched to the corners of the glass, holding a comforter up behind her so it blocked the view outside. He found himself able to breathe easier and he mentally gave thanks to whichever deity had brought Juliet O'Hara into his life.

"Hey partner, how's it going?". Her voice echoed slightly through the phone and he realized she had put him on speakerphone so her hands would be free.

"...O'Hara?!"

Her smile somehow managed to get even wider, "yep, that's me! Do you think you can get to the door now?"

"Y-yeah." He kept his eyes on her as he stood up, wincing slightly as stiff joints protested the cramped position he had forced them in. He clutched his blanket tighter around his shoulders as he shuffled towards the door to the quiet encouragements from the phone.

He undid the locks, but paused with his hand on the door knob, not trusting his control against the storm that was on the other side. As though reading his mind, Juliet spoke through the phone again, "hey, it's ok. Just turn it enough so it unlatches. Then you can back up and I'll take care of the rest."

The slight shiver of cold in her voice hardened his resolve; partners watched out for each other, he could do this for her. He turned the doorknob and threw open the door, bracing himself against the cold. He was almost bowled over by a comforter-wrapped body running through the opening. Juliet quickly shut the door behind her before turning to hug Lassiter. He wrapped his arms around her without hesitation and buried his nose in her hair, breathing in the familiar scent. The final traces of panic finally melted away.

After several minutes, Lassiter broke away from the embrace. Both detectives stumbled slightly as they worked to untangle themselves from the two blankets that had managed to wrap around both of them. Juliet glanced at her phone, still mid-call, with a small smirk, "I guess we don't need these anymore."

(Click)

Lassiter tossed his phone onto the bed and snagged the coffee pot on his way to the bathroom sink. They could both use a hot drink. By the time he came back Juliet had hung her comforter on the curtain rod, completely blocking the window. She was sitting at the small side table, shuffling the cards with their candy spread out in front of her.

He turned his back to her, fidgeting with the coffee machine. "I haven't...It's usually not that bad, you shouldn't have had to-"

"Hey now. Last I heard, panic attacks are 'nothing to be ashamed of.'"

Lassiter couldn't help but huff out a chuckle at his own words being used against him. He remembered that night after the clock tower when their roles had been reversed and O'Hara had been the one trying to apologize. He turned and walked to the other side of the table. The comforting sounds of coffee brewing filled the air as the cards were dealt.

"Are you going to ask about it?" He finally asked after losing the 3rd hand in a row.

"Only if you want me to."

He shook his head and looked up to meet her eyes, "Juliet, you are, without doubt, the best partner I could have ever asked for."

She grinned at him, "I know. I learned from the best."

PAW PATROL PAW PATROL, BE THERE ON THE DOUBLE

"Shawn! What the hell is this ringtone?"

"Oh hey Dad!" his son called out, panting and out of breath. "It's a TV show about cops! Isn't it great!?"

"It's a kid's- Are you running?!"

"Uh, yeah. Maiden Marian and Little John don't seem to like us much… Holy crap!"

"Shawn, what the hell is going on?" Henry asked, completely bewildered.

"Gus! They're shooting arrows at us! This is SO COOL!"

In the background Henry could hear his son's best friend yelling back, "No Shawn, this is NOT cool, this is in no way cool!"

"You're just jealous that I got to be Robin Hood and not you!"

"SHAWN!" Henry and Gus both yelled in sync.

"Wha- WOAH!" There was a sound of crashing branches followed by the thud of a body hitting the ground. Over the cacophony Henry was barely able to hear other voices, "SBPD, hands in the air!"

"Shawn, are you ok?"

"Ouch, Sherwood Forest is a bitch…"

Henry snorted, "I can't believe you called me while you were running for your lives."

"I didn't want to break the five month streak… speaking of. I think you should get a German Shepherd. They're such good pups."

(click)

RING

Gus glanced at his phone before scanning the street again. Satisfied that there wasn't any movement, he let the curtains fall back over the window at his self-appointed look-out post. "Woody, what's up?"

"That is a fantastic question Mr. Guster! At the moment, there are several sheets of metal, one and a half bodies, two sheets of fabric and a tuna sandwich up above me!"

"...you're laying in a morgue drawer?"

" Yes! Excellent deduction! I find it calming to lay where we all will take our last nap."

Gus shook his head and wondered if all coroners had to be slightly insane to be able to do their job. He glanced through the window again; their suspect wasn't supposed to be home for another couple of hours, but when did suspects ever act according to plan? "Why are you calling me, Woody?"

"Shawn asked for the details on the River Maser's autopsy. I believe he said he needed it 'faster than the Doc in the Delorean' which really seems unfair because how am I supposed to compete with time travel? Unless! He might have been giving me a hint? I can't reach him… so he must be in the past!"

"Or," Gus deadpanned, "his phone was destroyed by a horse in Sherwood forest. "

"Please, Gus, like that could ever happen."

"Uh-huh. One sec, let me find Shawn."

"You have a time machine too?!"

Gus rolled his eyes and went to the suspect's office where Shawn was laying on his back under the desk. "Why am I the only normal one on this team?" He grumbled as he watched his friend's legs kick like a novice river dancer in his death throes.

"One!" Shawn called out, "normal is overrated. Dos, Juliet is clearly the most normal one out of all of us and three-" he grunted then let out a triumphant "hah!" as a click echoed near his head. The bookcase on the far wall swung slightly outward as he flailed his way back out from under the desk. "-normal people don't get to find secret rooms behind bookcases!"

Gus joined Shawn while stuffing his phone into his pocket, call forgotten. They stared in awe at the trick door. "Dude, we just found the Batcave."

"Technically, I found the Batcave, so I get to claim Batman, clearly Val Kilmer era. You can be Chris O'Donnell."

"I am not going to be Robin! All he ever does is flip and get captured. And you need more than one movie for it to be an era. I want to be Black Lightning!"

"You know, I was all prepared to tell you your choice was lame, but he's actually pretty dope."

"You know that's right. He's even got my super sniffer."

"Yeah, that's not dope. Help me open this before you manage to ruin a vigilante who can shoot lightning out of his hands."

The two friends grabbed the edge of the bookcase and, with an excited grin, pulled with all of their might. The secret door slammed open, sending books and detectives flying across the room in a whirlwind of chaos.

Once the last book clattered to the ground, Shawn carefully climbed to his feet and looked over at Gus, "so… That never happened?"

Gus glanced over from where he was picking himself off of the floor, "I have no idea what you're talking about. Clearly I electroported over here while you did a series of backflips and handsprings across the room."

"I can live with that."

Shawn turned to inspect the newly opened area as the other man dusted himself off. Gus paused as his hands reached his pants and he felt the curves of his phone; he gasped as he remembered the reason he had come up to the office in the first place. The phone nearly fell from his hands as he scrambled to pull it out of his pocket and bring it up to his ear.

"Woody! Are you still there?" At the exact same time, Shawn exclaimed, "Aw man... this has to be the worst bat cave ever!"

"I'm still here! I was hoping… Can I be Jim Carey? I've always found the Riddler to be fascinating! And I think I could pull off a crazy bad guy, don't you? Also, I must know… What's in the Batcave?!"

Gus looked over to where his best friend was moodily grabbing a handful of files from a small cut-out shelf set in the wall previously hidden by the bookcase. Shawn noticed the look and whined, "It's just a glorified filing cabinet! She couldn't have at least made it a secret filling room, or had some mysterious potions or even have a cool wall safe with a really elaborate lock! This is so lame. I'm not Batman anymore, he's too cool for stupid paper shuffling. Now I'm just… Jim. I guess that makes you Dwight?"

Gus scoffed at the small tantrum, ignoring his own disappointment at the underwhelming discovery. "Please, there is no way I'm Dwight, you know I hate beets. Woody's calling, he's got the autopsy done."

"Ooh, what's Woody got?"

"I don't know! You wanted the report, not me! Here."

Gus tried handing his phone to Shawn, who stayed where he was with both of his hands occupied by the files. Both of them ignored the voice over the phone calling out, "I'll be DeAngelo!"

"Dude, take the phone! You know how I get with autopsies!"

"Unless you can read through all of these, remember every detail and connect it to the rest of the case…" Gus clicked his tongue, not liking where the reasoning was headed, "Then I need you to take that call and nutshell it for me! Come on Gus, don't be a Robin!"

Gus straightened up in indignation, "I am no one's sidekick!" He turned away from Shawn with a flair and put the phone back to his ear. "Woody, tell me everything."

"Guster! I thought you'd never ask! This case is a real treat, I don't often get to see such art in a kill. I even called Elaine and told her to eat dinner on her own so I could keep working on this… She seemed pleased, apparently she was going to a friend's anyway. He's going to use a telescope to explore a black hole!"

Gus shook his head, unsure of how the coroner could be so clueless about his wife's 'friends.' "Woody, I'm going to need you to focus for me."

"I'll be honest. I have never understood what those words mean."

"...ok. Why was this kill different?"

"Well for starters, Ms. Maser was in pristine health until the days leading to her death. Her hair and nails were strong, her muscle to fat ratio would make a grown man cry and her bone density… I tell you what, when I cracked that sternum open... I have never heard a more symmetrical sound. I actually had to stop myself from breaking it again, it was such orchestral perfection. And that liver! I had to give myself five minutes, just to enjoy the beauty that was that liver sitting in my hands… I only wish I could have seen her stomach contents before she was taken. A lady like that must have had some fine taste, I would have loved to smell it."

Gus took several deep breaths, "Woody. I don't need to know about her, I need to know about how she was killed."

"Ah, and that is where the beauty truly lies! There was only one wound on her entire body, disregarding the superficial scratches and bruises. A knife wound to the upper right abdominal cavity, leading to gastrointestinal perforation. Specifically, she sliced a hole into the lower stomach, like a cutpurse stealing stomach acid. Though if someone wanted to steal bodily fluids, there are better ways…"

Gus's deep breaths morphed into Lamaze breathing, "So that's it? Just a lucky knife wound?"

"I am insulted that you think I would be so impressed by a mere stab wound. The knife cut the stomach, and only the stomach. The abdomen is stuffed chock full of organs and tubes and blood vessels… such a delectable space. The chances of a random knife hitting only the stomach like this- she didn't even scratch the colon - is infinitesimal unless it was done on purpose! Not to mention the sutures she used to close up the external wound were some of the best I've ever seen. This lady is a professional."

Gus frowned, "you keep saying the killer is a woman…"

"Yes! Besides the fact that male assailants tend to use their fists more than their imagination, I've found that poisoned lipstick is a distinctively female tool of the trade."

Gus started ticking the facts on his fingers, grateful for the chance to distract his imagination from the colorful descriptions, "So our killer ties Maser to a chair, stabs her, stitches her back up, dresses her up in a corset, then poisons her? That makes no sense."

"I believe the order was more like stab, stitch, chair, tea, poison, tea, poison, tea, corset, death. There may have been a few extra tea parties in there; I can't be positive."

Gus furrowed his eyebrows and looked back up at Shawn who was now staring into space, mouth moving wordlessly. "Wait, the killer gave her tea?"

"Yes, I found it all through the entire abdominal cavity, the bladder was practically marinating in it. It also showed up in her lungs, Earl Grey with one lump of sugar if you were wondering. She was force-fed, multiple times, I'm sure of it. The pain that sort of trauma would have caused on top of the stomach acid leaking over her intestines and the infection leaching into her blood… It would have been excruciating by the end, and that's without the poisoned lipstick. I haven't gotten an exact match yet, but I believe it's some sort of nerve agent designed to increase a person's sensitivity to pain. Truly horrific way to go, but you can't deny the style at using your victim's own body to kill itself."

Gus paled at the images Woody had painted. The infection alone would have been enough to kill. Everything else was just proof of a sadistic killer. "Can you tell how long…"

Woody's voice sobered slightly as he finished his report, "By rough guess, I'd say she was in that chair for two days, maybe two and a half. The corset is what actually delivered the death blow, the final vengeful cherry on top if you will. Besides putting extra pressure on all of the stressed organs in the abdomen, it also restricted her breathing - which was probably already struggling due to beginning stages of pneumonia. It lead to the ultimate cause of death, suffocation. The stomach wound on top of the infection in the abdominal cavity would have resulted in searing pain with only the most minor touch to the torso. To have a corset cinched so tightly over all of it… She died in burning agony. There is almost no way this wasn't personal."

Gus had his eyes screwed shut, hand over his mouth. "I need to… I need…" he dropped the phone and sprinted for the door.

"Woah woah, Gus wait!" Shawn called out frantically. Gus turned around, with desperation in his eyes. "Nutshell first, then puke."

"Woman-killer. Psychopath. Doctor-skills. Revenge." He managed to gasp out before turning and losing his lunch right outside the room.

Shawn raised his eyebrows at the display and picked up the phone, muttering to himself about needing a bit more meat with his shell, "Dang Woody, I honestly didn't think you'd be able to get him to puke from just a phone call. Your descriptions must have been on point!"

Woody answered back in his usual cheerful tone, "Thank you! What can I say, art begets art."

Shawn smirked before his face went blank, finally processing what Gus had told him. "I know who killed - I mean…I think the spirits are telling me something!"

Woody didn't seem to notice his slip-up, "As much as I admire her work, I hope you get this broad, she really needs to be a one-hit wonder."

Shawn's answer was cut short by the sound of a car door slamming near the front of the house. He glanced around at the mess inside the office as well as the mess Gus was still leaning over outside the door. "Uh, buddy? We need to go. Right now."

"She's the killer, isn't she?"

"Yep."

"Fantastic."

"Hey Woody, great job! I'll see you at the station, I feel a doozy of a vision coming on!"

(click)

BRRRRING

Lassiter glared at his desk phone, wondering who would know to call him at the precinct at two in the morning. He knocked back the rest of his coffee before picking up the receiver. "This is Detective Lassiter."

"Detective, what a surprise to find out you're working yet another late night." Chief Vick's voice was clear and professional, but somehow still managed to convey 'I'm not angry, I'm just disappointed' over the phone.

Feeling like a scolded child, Lassiter scanned the precinct to try and find whoever had ratted him out. There were only a few other people around and none of them jumped out to him as obvious suspects. "Chief, it's been a busy week, I need to catch up on paperwork before the next crazy comes out of the woodwork."

"It has been a busy week. And that's why you should be home sleeping, not making yourself more exhausted. It's the middle of the night, paperwork can wait."

"Technically it's morning…" He muttered sullenly.

"Excuse me?!"

"Nothing Chief, I said I'd see you in the morning."

"...No…I don't think I will. You just put in for a three-day vacation, I just approved it."

Lassiter gaped at the phone, "What? No I didn't!"

"Yes you did. You even put in here that you'd be fishing and out of contact for anything short of a serial-killer-level emergency."

"I would never… Spencer! This has to be him, it reeks of his stupidity!"

Vick sounded amused, "Actually, I'm also going to approve Mr. Spencer's request for a week of no cases. He needs a break from being threatened by guns, arrows, scalpels…"

" Horses…" Lassiter added with a ghost of a smirk.

"Exactly. I'm going to be calling Mr. Spencer to inform him of his request as soon as I'm done with you."

"Wait… Inform him of…" He rubbed his eyes in frustration. Vick's voice sounded different, as though she was trying to tell him something without actually saying it. He hated it when she did that. He tried to force his tired brain to figure out what was going on, glancing longingly at the coffee pot across the room. He sighed in frustration, maybe the Chief had a point about him needing sleep.

Vick took pity on him, "Carlton, take your vacation and get some rest. Otherwise I'll have to resort to more official measures to keep my best team in peak condition. Understand?"

"Do I have to?" He winced, knowing he had just sealed his fate. He, SBPD's head detective, had just literally whined at the Chief of Police.

"Yes. You have to. Go home, enjoy your vacation."

(click)

Lassiter grumbled about women who didn't know when to leave mothering out of the office as he finished typing up one last witness report. On the way to his car he remembered a small, secluded fishing hole Henry had told him about over a few rounds of beers. He felt the pull of a genuine smile as he backed out of his parking spot, maybe this vacation thing wouldn't be that bad.

*THWACK*

Lassiter's head snapped to the side from the force of the punch. Heat bloomed over his cheek as he spit out a mouthful of blood from where he had bitten his cheek. He tried to hunch protectively over his aching ribs but was stopped by the rope wrapped around his shoulders and the back of the chair. He rolled his head back forward and glared at his captor, setting his jaw in a stubborn refusal to talk.

"Yes, yes. I see you are a strong, scary guy." The bad guy in charge sneered at him with a thick Mexican accent. Lassiter had decided to dub him 'Pendejo' until he knew his real name. Maybe even after he knew the real name. He may not speak Spanish fluently, but he had gotten Juliet to teach him a handful of insults on one of their quieter days. Pendejo narrowed his eyes when he saw the small smirk crossing the detective's face at the memory, "Something funny to you cop?" he spat out as he started to circle the metal chair.

"Depends. Is 'que te la pique un pollo' funny?" Lassiter said before he could stop himself. He mentally cursed Spencer for being a bad influence on him.

Pendejo grabbed the chain of the cuffs holding the detective's hands behind the chair and yanked them down. The burn from the metal cutting into his wrists was almost as strong as the burn of anger at these criminals using his own handcuffs against him. The criminal breathed in Lassiter's ear, "What I think is funny is you thinking you can hold out against me and my boys." Giving the cuffs one more jerk, he resumed stalking around the chair. "No one is going to miss you for days, and days is plenty of time to make a cop sing."

Pendejo stopped in front of Lassiter again, holding up a small knife so the light from the ceiling glinted off of its edge. He clamped a hand over his captive's knee and leaned down till they were eye-to-eye. Lassiter reflexively kicked against the ropes binding his legs to the chair when he felt the knife touch the inside of his thigh. "Now, tell me. Where is Michelle Ward?"

BAD BOYS BAD BOYS, WHATCHA GONNA DO

Lassiter flinched at the loud noise filling the room before breathing a small sigh of relief when the knife was removed from his leg. "¡que demonios fue eso!" Pendejo called to his lackeys, clearly annoyed at having his moment broken.

"Es su telefono, jefe." one of them replied, holding the phone up so "S. Spencer" could be seen flashing across the screen.

Pendejo swung his head around and looked at Lassiter with disappointment, "Your ringtone is Cops? Really?!"

Lassiter attempted to straighten in the chair, prepared to defend the best TV show known to man with his last breath. His captor rolled his eyes at the display before stalking over to the lackey with the phone and ending the call. "Spencer… I know that name…" His eyes widened in recognition before he spun back around to snap at the detective. "You're on vacation. Three days of no work, no calls, no nothin'… so why the hell is the lead psychic of the SBPD-"

BAD BOYS BAD BOYS, WHATCHA GONNA DO

Pendejo glared as 'S. Spencer' blinked cheerfully back at him. Lassiter snorted softly, only Spencer could cause that much annoyance before even a word was said. As his captors began arguing in Spanish, he felt a bubble of hope rise in his chest as he began to form the inklings of a plan. After all, if a certain kidnapped civilian had been able to call for help with bad guys listening in, then it should be easy for a head detective to do it too. He just had to convince his bad guys to let him answer the phone. He couldn't help letting out a small groan when he realized what he'd have to pretend was real to make it happen. "You know, you should probably answer that."

"And why should I do that?"

"Because that man will not stop calling until you do-"

BAD BOYS BAD BOYS, WHATCHA GONNA DO

"-See? And you can't ignore him. Trust me, I've tried. If I don't answer he'll track me down within an hour just so he can tell me whatever asinine movie reference he's decided is life-or-death."

Pendejo walked back to stand in front of him, head cocked in contemplation. Without warning he backhanded the detective hard enough to cause the chair to rock slightly. Before Lassiter could recover, his captor grabbed a handful of his hair and forced his head back.

"And why do you think he could find you?" Pendejo hissed, his face inches from the detective's.

Lassiter forced his face and voice to stay blank as he rasped through the strain on his throat, "You said it yourself, he's psychic. Finding people is kind of his thing." He ignored the rotten taste of the words leaving his mouth.

One of the lackeys chimed in nervously, "If he's a psychic then he probably already knows what we're doing… We should just kill him now and go!"

Lassiter started a motivational chant in his head, 'better than being dead, better than being dead…' "It doesn't work that way. He has to see things, touch them, smell them for a vision-"

BAD BOYS BAD BOYS, WHATCHA GONNA DO

Pendejo shoved Lassiter's head to the side while letting go of his hair before drawing his gun, resting it between the detective's eyes. "You have no friends or family in the city. The police aren't supposed to contact you for 3 days. So how the hell did this psychic know to call you if he doesn't already know you're in deep shit?"

Lassiter closed his eyes, frantically trying to remember how Spencer had convinced his bad guys to let him make a call. His mantra stuttered for a moment, '... is it better than being dead?' before the sound of a gun being cocked in his face made up his mind. "He's my boyfriend."

"... Excuse me?"

He gritted his teeth and looked past the gun to his captor's confused face. "We… are a couple. He's probably just calling to see if I made it to the lake yet. Fishing's too boring for him, not to mention he feels sorry for the fish. That's part of why I came out here. He's exhausting at times. Just let me talk to him so he doesn't turn to the spirits to find me. I get to keep him safe, you get to avoid police attention…"

Pendejo squinted his eyes, looking between the detective and the now-silent phone. Lassiter held his breath, painfully aware of the cold metal pressing into his forehead.

BAD BOYS BAD BOYS, WHATCHA GONNA DO

"Fuck!" His captor snarled. The gun moved from Lassiter's head to his kneecap, "no funny business or your boyfriend's last memory of you will be your screams for mercy." Pendejo paused for a moment, making sure his threat had sunk in, before clicking 'accept call' and putting it on speaker.

"Lassie! What took you so long? I was starting to think you actually meant it when you said you didn't want to be bothered on your trip! And that's ridiculous, no one willingly wants to be alone. Well maybe Gus, but that's just because he apparently likes making normal people money and I've been banned from joining him on his route since the incident where-"

"Shawn!"

"And Jules wants to be alone too, which is so unfair! Just because I didn't tell her we were going to the killer's house… And I didn't even know it was the killer's house! Apparently she needs 'space' so I can't even deal with not having work by-"

"SHAWN!" Lassiter barked, trying to keep Spencer from getting him killed with his big mouth.

"And don't even get me started on my Dad! So I got threatened a few extra times this week, so what? But no, he's got to be all mature and tells me to leave him alone so we don't fight and say things we don't mean and he's such a-"

Pendejo clicked the mute button before sharing a bewildered look with the detective. "Does he ever shut up?!"

Lassiter just sighed, "welcome to my life."

"I'm starting to see why you needed this fishing trip." His captor replied sympathetically, gun still pressed firmly to the detective's knee.

He unmuted the call just in time to hear "-ooh! They have pineapple chips! This is officially my favorite gas station ever! Want me to grab you a bag Lassie?"

"What?! Shawn, no! You are not following me up here! Turn back around and go home!"

"I just told you, no one at home wants me. Do I have to go through it all again? My dad is angry and doesn't want to fight, which is just ridiculous. My best friend is angry and doesn't want his life threatened for the next few days which is boring and my girl-"

Lassiter panicked and said the first thing he could think of to make Spencer shut up, "Shawn, I love you!"

"... What?!"

Pendejo and his men exchanged looks, clearly confused at the reaction. Lassiter closed his eyes, blocking them out, as he focused on his plan and staying alive for the next 5 minutes. "You said it to me at J.T.'s cafe, remember? Right outside the train station. I wanted to say it back, but I couldn't… It's why I sent you those windchimes. I hoped you'd know what it meant so I wouldn't have to say it out loud."

"Right… The windchimes. I got what those meant." Shawn's voice was suddenly subdued and shook slightly, Lassiter hoped Pendejo would just think it was from hearing the L-word for the first time, "...Are you sure you don't want company up there?"

Lassiter felt a warning nudge to his knee, he needed to wrap this up. "Unless you really want to witness the fish murder, turn back around and go home."

"Lassie, fish have feelings too. Promise you'll be safe out there?"

Lassiter opened his eyes and glanced at the weapon pointing at him, "I'll try my best."

"Alright, I'll see you soon. Love you too."

(click)

Pendejo smirked and put his gun back in his waistband. "Well now, wasn't that sweet. You got to say a proper goodbye. " He walked back to the table and exchanged the cell phone for his knife. "Now, Lassie, where were we?"

As the first fiery line cut across his skin, Lassiter clenched his eyes and jaw shut. He really hoped Spencer had gotten his message.

BUZZ

"Shawn, when someone asks for space, they mean longer than two hours."

"Jules, Lassie's in trouble."

"You know, some people go outdoors and away from people on purpose. It doesn't mean he's in trouble."

"No, you don't get it. I called him and he said some weird stuff before saying he bought me windchimes!"

Juliet paled, all annoyance at Shawn bleeding away, "Oh my god, you're positive?"

"Of course I'm positive! Bad guys have him and they were listening to the call and we gotta rescue him!"

Juliet grabbed a pad of paper from her table next to her couch and prepared to write down any clues, "Ok Shawn, calm down. We need to know what we're dealing with. Tell me everything he said, exact words if you can."

She heard a scoff over the phone followed by the ringing of a cashier register. "Hey, can I add a Snicker's to that?"

"Shawn! Are you seriously buying snacks right now?!"

"I already had them picked out already! And which do you want me focusing on, my empty stomach or remembering 'exact words' from a call I just got off of two minutes ago?" He snapped back.

Juliet forced herself to take a deep breath, "ok, fine. Just tell me what you remember, maybe we can pick up any other clues he might have given you."

She heard the jingling of a store door closing then the shuffling of a plastic bag. She could just imagine Shawn leaning against the side of the store and grabbing a snack as he started to talk, "Well, he didn't say much at first. I was… busy telling him how everyone was doing at home."

"Shawn, he hasn't been gone for even half a day. What could you possibly have needed to catch him up on?"

"Clearly a lot can happen in a few hours Jules… Oh my god I'm an idiot."

Juliet rubbed her eyes in annoyance, "Please tell me this isn't about your snacks."

"I was echoing, they put me on speakerphone! Lassie never uses speakerphone! And he kept calling me 'Shawn'. I can't believe I didn't realize something was wrong sooner, I could have gotten him killed and not even noticed because I just had to tell someone about everyone being all stupid over here and it ends up I'm the stupid one and-"

"SHAWN! Stop. That doesn't matter right now, what matters is how we're going to find Lassiter and save him. Now tell me what he told you."

"Uh, right. So I think he must have told them we were kinda…dating? Cause he stopped me from calling you my girlfriend by saying he loved me…"

Juliet stared at her phone, convinced she must have heard wrong. "He said what now?"

"Yeah, that was pretty much my reaction too."

"So he actually said… Do you think he meant it?"

"I don't know! He probably had a gun on him and was just trying to stay alive! Can we focus please?"

Juliet shook her head clear, shelving several questions to ask at a later date. "Right, what else did he say?"

Shawn answered in a gruff voice, mimicking Lassiter's inflections, "You said it to me at J.T.'s cafe, remember? Right outside the train station. I wanted to say it back, but I couldn't… It's why I sent you those windchimes. I hoped you'd know what it meant so I wouldn't have to say it out loud."

Juliet felt her jaw drop in shock for the second time in under a minute, "... You actually remembered everything he said?"

"Well do you want exact words or not? I'm a bit confused here" Shawn complained, dropping his Lassiter impression.

"Sorry, was there anything else?"

"I told him I got the message, he told me to go back home unless I wanted to 'witness fish murder.' I figured he was telling me to back off so he wouldn't get dead so I told him to be safe and hung up."

Ok, so J.T.'s cafe, a train station and the windchimes. We already know what the chimes mean-"

"Yeah, here's hoping he hasn't been shot too…"

"So what about the other two things? Maybe he's near a train station?"

"He was being too careful, no way would he have been that obvious with the bad guys listening. Besides, there aren't any train stations anywhere near here. He said JT was near the train station, so they're probably linked together. Maybe it's something about the people who have him…?"

Juliet chewed the end of her pen, staring at the few words she had scribbled on her pad. "Train station, JT… JT, train station…" She suddenly gasped in realization, "J.T. Waring!"

"The mobster?"

"Remember that case? It all started with me waiting for Scott…"

"In a train station!" Shawn finished the thought. "So what, that's who has Lassie? But why, we helped exonerate him of murder!"

"I don't think that's what he was trying to say. Like you said earlier, it's too obvious. It must be something to do with that case. Or something that happened on that case…"

She heard Shawn snap his fingers, "Scott was in witness protection! Lassie told me I'd have to 'witness' fish murder. That job you two just did in the mountains, it was to meet a lady who was flipping on that new Mexican gang, right? And you guys brought her back…"

"... And put her in witness protection! That's it! The gang must have taken him because he's one of the few people who knows where she was relocated! Where are you?"

"Gas station an hour out of town on the way to the fishing hole."

"Stay there. I mean it, Shawn, this gang is no joke and they won't hesitate to hurt or kill you. I'm going to call the Chief and let her know what's going on."

"Or, and hear me out, I don't stay here. I keep heading towards the lake so I can get a vision of where they're keeping Lassie!"

"Shawn! No! We just talked about this! Wait for backup before going somewhere dangerous!"

"I'm not going somewhere dangerous! I'm just riding my motorcycle down the road while having a nice chat with the local spirits! It'll be fine, I'll text you the address when I find it, love you, bye!"

(Click)

"Damnit Shawn!"

RING

Gus woke up and looked at his phone, groaning at the time. "Shawn, I told you I wasn't talking to you!"

"Yeah, and I didn't call you for like five hours! Even you know that's a record, otherwise you wouldn't be talking to me now."

Gus frowned, knowing Shawn was right but not wanting to admit it. "Why are you calling? We're not supposed to have any cases for a week, remember?"

"Lassie's in trouble and I just found him. I need you to tell me how to make this propane tank explode."

"Wha… Why… WHAT?! Shawn, don't you dare touch that tank. You'll blow yourself up with it! What's going on?!"

"I don't have time for this. Bad guys have Lassie and are hurting him right now and I am not going to just sit here and wait for backup!"

Gus swallowed at the grim tone of his friend's voice. He knew there wasn't any way he could talk Shawn out of doing anything stupid, especially not from his bedroom. But that didn't mean he wouldn't try. "How far away is the backup?"

"At least an hour away, we're in the middle of bumfuck nowhere with only trees for neighbors. Vick couldn't send anyone out of city bounds before we knew exactly where he was being kept… and now I've found it, the bad guys just got out a blow torch, and I'm supposed to just… I'm not doing it. And you can't stop me. I'll run my bike into this damn tank if I have to."

Gus began pacing in his room, "Shawn! I told you, leave that tank alone, you don't want an explosion. Don't you remember that super spy tip? A good distraction will make people curious, not scare them. Do you have anything else besides your motorcycle?"

"Yes, I also brought my super-secret tow truck with all of my toys! Of course that's all I have. And a propane tank that I'm apparently not allowed to touch!" Shawn snapped with venom.

Gus clicked his tongue, "I know you're touching it right now. Stop it. OK, here's what you're going to do. Get back to your bike and ride it towards the forest next to the bad guy's lair. You're gonna jump off of it right before they can see you, so all they hear is a bike crashing in the woods nearby. That should be enough to get their attention without them immediately shooting Lassie and running."

"... you're telling me to intentionally jump off of a moving motorcycle?"

"You were about to blow yourself up, this is a definite improvement."

"Fair enough. I'll call you back in a minute."

"Please don't die."

"I'll try my best."

(click)

BUZZ

"Gus? Why are you… What did Shawn do?"

"Jules, Shawn is going in to try and save Lassie right now. Please tell me you're close."

"He what?! He promised he would stay back!"

"Did you see his hands? Promises don't count if you're crossing your fingers."

"It was a phone call, of course I didn't see his hands!"

"Well there you go. Now how far away are you?"

"Thirty minutes at best, everyone else is probably another twenty behind me… Please tell me he at least has a good plan?"

"Not really… I convinced him to crash his motorcycle instead of blowing everyone up… He's calling me back. Hurry!"

(Click)

"DAMNIT SHAWN"

RING

"Shawn! Tell me you're still alive and not calling to haunt my phone as a technoghost."

"Gus, no one would ever willingly come back as a technoghost. I don't think that's even a real thing! Also dude, your bike crash idea was genius, they just left one guy watching Lassie and I knocked him out with my helmet! It was so cool! We're running to the road now, please tell me Jules is close."

Gus didn't even bother asking how Shawn knew he had checked in with Juliet. "She said she's half an hour away. Will you guys be able to outrun them for that long?"

"Um, so… I may have been slightly overexaggerating when I said we were 'running.' I… landed on my bad knee and Lassie's legs are sliced up like a zebra. Hobbling… We're hobbling. That's why I called you, I need another spy tip."

There was a scuffling over the phone before Lassiter's growl came through, "Guster, I cannot believe you actually told this moron to jump off of his motorcycle. You're supposed to be the smart one! I could have handled a few more scars waiting for backup, now he's going to get us both killed." He would have sounded intimidating if his voice wasn't haggard and breaking slightly.

Gus heard Shawn snarl in the background, "you might have been able to handle it, but I couldn't. Give that back." His voice became clearer, "come on Gus, you've watched every season of that show, what do you do when you're outnumbered and wounded in the wilderness and have to buy time. Gus. This is your moment. Voice-over me."

Gus wracked his mind trying to think of anything that might be helpful, "when an operation goes bad, just smile and try to stay alive?"

"Already doing that, next!"

"Did you grab anything from the bad guy lair?"

"The lair was a glorified garage. Lassie took the mook's gun, I grabbed the blow torch and the first-aid kit."

"You took the blow torch?!" Gus could hear Lassie squawk in the background.

"You wouldn't let me have the gun that shoots bullets, so I took the gun that shoots fire! Honestly, we should still swap, there's no way you can shoot with those broken fingers."

"You will take this gun from me over my dead body."

"You've seen me shoot! You know I'm the better choice right now!"

"GUYS!" Gus yelled, breaking up the argument, "I've got it! What you need is a distraction- the scary kind this time- and you have all the tools you need. Remember that propane tank?"

"Gus, I could kiss you, that is GENIUS"

"Please don't. You're gonna need to shoot it then throw the torch. The bullets won't do it on its own. Stay back and only do it if you have to! I do NOT want to tell Juliet that I told you to blow yourself up after all."

"Don't worry, I got this! I just gotta convince Lassie to let me do the shoot… shit, they just figured out he's gone. Gotta go, see ya on the flip side buddy!"

(click)

"If you die I swear I will kill you…"

BUZZ

"Lassiter! Hey! How are you doing?!"

"I'm stuck at the hospital for another day, O'hara. This sucks."

"Yeah, I know. I've got about an hour's worth of paperwork left, want me to bring some non-hospital food over for dinner?"

"I don't need mothering. It's mothering that got me into this mess in the first place."

Juliet rolled her eyes in exasperation, "Don't you dare tell that to the chief. I will punch you; I don't care if you're already bruised."

"I'm well aware, don't worry. Listen, this isn't a social call. I need a favor."

"Yeah? what's up?"

"I know how this sounds, but I swear I'm not paranoid… I need you to take apart my desk phone."

Juliet chewed her lips, she knew Lassiter had been extra jumpy in the hospital, but she couldn't really blame him. "I'm not saying no… but is there a reason?"

"O'Hara… Pendej- I mean, Cortez knew exactly when I was going on vacation and for how long, but somehow didn't know that you and Spencer were together. He had inside information, but not enough for it to be a mole. Just… check my phone?"

"OK, give me a minute. But here's the deal, you answer my questions while I do it."

"Do I have to?"

Juliet grinned while grabbing her multitool that Shawn had given her for Christmas, "no, but I promise they're good questions."

Lassiter groaned, "Fine, shoot."

"Why did you tell them you and Shawn were together?"

"... I thought you said they'd be good questions."

Juliet flipped his phone over and began removing the screws, "they are good… for me."

Lassiter sighed, "Fine. I needed to explain why a psychic was calling without getting shot dead. I remembered Spencer's call when he was kidnapped, he pretended to be your boyfriend… it seemed like the right play."

"Wait, you actually copied Shawn?"

"Please don't tell him… He's going to be insufferable enough with the whole rescue thing. Anything on the phone yet?"

"Nothing in the base, checking the receiver now. Shawn might not be as annoying about this as you think."

Lassiter snorted in disbelief.

Juliet shook her head at the emotionally constipated men in her life, "No, seriously. Don't tell him I told you this, but I think seeing you getting hurt really shook him. You're always the untouchable one who's swooping in to save him…"

"And now I'm just the guy stuck in a hospital with his ass showing to the world whenever I stand up."

"Stop that. You know what I mean…oh shit."

"O'Hara?"

"You were right. There's a bug here in the receiver."

"Damnit. Don't touch it, get the tech guys over there asap."

"I'm not a rookie, Carlton." Juliet snapped as she held up the receiver to try and get a better look. "This looks professional, it's tied into the phone and power... it must have cost a pretty penny."

"A tapped detective's line would be worth it's weight in coke to the scum we deal with everyday. Damnit! I should have been more careful, I sweep my apartment for bugs all the time, why didn't I think…"

"Carlton, no one would think to check a police station phone for bugs. Don't blame yourself. We found it, now we'll find whoever put it there." Juliet paused for a moment. Satisfied that her partner wasn't going to argue the point, she continued. "With luck it was Cortez that had it placed, we'll check the security tapes to see who's been around your desk recently. If it was his gang then there won't be much to worry about, we were out in the field almost all week."

"And if it's not?"

"Then we have an amazing first lead to track them down. I'm gonna call the Chief and get the ball rolling on this. But first, I have one more question."

"What?"

"Did you really tell Shawn you loved him?"

"O'Hara, seriously?!"

Juliet's grin was laced with mischief, "I just wanted to know if I needed to worry about competition with my boyfriend…"

"I had a gun in my face! If you're really worried about competition, why don't you ask your boyfriend why he said it back!"

(Click)

"He did what now?!"

PAW PATROL PAW PATROL, BE THERE ON THE DOUBLE

Henry pounced on the phone; he had a prepared speech to Shawn about being responsible, waiting for backup and not blowing himself up right on the tip of his tongue. But all of his plans went out the window when he saw who was calling, "Gus? Why are you calling instead of Shawn?"

"Sorry Mr. Spencer, we just took a private case at a Buddhist temple… and Shawn took a vow of silence. He told me to call you and say…" papers could be heard flapping and rustling, along with the sounds of a slap fight. Henry kneaded his forehead wondering how two adults could act like children so often without shame.

Gus continued in monotone, "you should get a dalmatian because it would match your angry spots…" His voice resumed his normal cadence, "Shawn! Why would you have me say that to him?! He's going to kill me! Mr. Spencer, I am so sorry, please don't shoot the messenger."

Henry snorted at the antics. "Don't worry Gus, I have much more compelling reasons to shoot you if I wanted to." A gulp could be heard over the phone. He debated letting them stew in his displeasure, but he had a more pressing matter to address, "A vow of silence? Shawn?! How long has he lasted so far?"

"About three hours. I'm pretty sure he's about to explode. Uh… I mean…"

Henry's smirk morphed into a full grin, "put me on speakerphone."

"OK, he can hear you…"

"Shawn, if you make it to this time on Thursday without speaking, I will take you and Gus to that arcade bar you're always bothering me about. I'll buy a round of drinks and will play any game you tell me to for one hour." He heard a muffled squeak and could imagine his son slapping his hands over his mouth to keep from breaking the vow mid-call. "But if you don't make it, you have to go with me to that fishing spot that Lassiter never made it to. Deal?"

He could hear fingers tapping on a pad of paper and a lot of shuffling before Gus returned with a counteroffer. "He only has to make it to eight on Thursday and you have to play for two hours, one for each day he manages to stay quiet."

"That's eight PM on Thursday, don't try to pull a fast one on me. One hour, but I'll buy 2 rounds of drinks."

Henry didn't realize that there was a distinct sound for two men jumping around in excitement, "You've got a deal."

"Great. Oh, and Gus…"

"Yes Mr. Spencer?"

Henry leaned forward to threaten, "Don't forget. I'm the human lie detector. You'll be right there with us taking care of all the bait if you try to cover for his ass."

Another gulp, "Yes Mr. Spencer."

"Good. I look forward to talking with you on Thursday."

(click)

Henry chuckled to himself, he had a fishing trip to plan.

BAD BOYS BAD BOYS, WHATCHA GONNA DO

It had almost been a week since his capture and Lassiter wasn't sure he was ready to field this call. He glared at the phone until the call ended.

BAD BOYS BAD BOYS, WHATCHA GONNA DO

Still, he didn't really have a choice anymore. He knew, from experience now, that the phone would keep ringing until he finally picked it up.

"Spencer, what do you want?"

"Lassie! Can't a guy check up on his healing boyfriend?"

"I'm not doing this. Goodbye Spencer."

"Wait, wait, Carlton! Stop!"

Lassiter stared at the phone, trying to remember if he'd ever heard Shawn use his first name. "What?"

"Look, sorry. That was weird. Let's start over. Dad owes Gus and I some drinks and I think you should come with us."

"Why the hell would I do that?"

"Because we're going to a bar with a zombie shooter game and I thought we could determine once and for all who was the best shot."

Lassiter glared at his braced fingers, hoping his silence would convey how stupid of an idea that was.

"It's fine. I'll shoot left-handed too." He hated when it seemed like Spencer could actually read minds. "Look, you didn't get to have your vacation, then you had to be in the hospital, and now you're on desk duty until you've been cleared to go back in the field… and that sucks, so I wanted to make it suck a bit less."

"And you figured you could do that with toy guns."

"And alcohol, Lassie. Guns AND alcohol. Name a more dynamic Lassiter duo."

"... what time?"

"Right now. We'll be there in five minutes, try your best to dress like a civilian."

"Spencer!"

"OKLoveYouBye!"

(click)

Lassiter sighed, he hoped that was the last time he'd have to deal with Shawn playing the boyfriend-card. He looked down at his white T-shirt and sweatpants, he definitely looked like a civilian, but probably not the kind Spencer was thinking of. The detective pushed himself off the couch and carefully walked over to his closet. It was going to take at least ten minutes to change due to all of the bandages he had to work around. He cursed at the idiots as he took his time; he was not going to pull any stitches just because they were waiting on him.

He replayed the conversation in his head as he changed and a predatory grin crossed his face. If Spencer seriously thought he wasn't as accurate with his left hand as he was with his right, then he was going to be in for quite a shock. Maybe the night would be fun after all…

Chapter Text

I'VE HEARD IT BOTH WAYS, THE RIGHT WAY AND THEN YOURS

"Shawn, what the hell… Is that you and Lassiter singing?!"

"Yes! I'm so glad you're lame and no one else called you before me. You have no idea how hard it was to wait until eleven for this glorious moment!"

It wasn't often that Henry was so completely baffled, "How did you get Lassiter to sing, much less let you record it?!"

"Remember a month and a half ago at the bar where I completely trashed you in Street Fighter? After you left, Gus and I kept the drinks going and we convinced Lassie to drink a shot for each time he used 'Pendejo' on his report instead of 'Cortez'... The rest is history."

Henry shook his head in bewilderment, "how has he not killed you yet? Does he know you have a recording of this?"

"I let him listen to it this weekend! I only just got it back from the people who put in the instructions."

"...You mean instrumentals?"

"I've heard it both ways." Shawn sung.

"No, you haven't Shawn, and don't do that."

"You're just jealous of my musical prowess. Anyways, Lassie told me to never play it for anyone, I told him it was a crime to keep his surprisingly majestic voice to himself, he told me he'd shoot me, yada yada yada... However, he never said anything about making it into a ringtone!"

"I'm not even going to argue that. It's beneath me. Just tell me the dog breed already."

"This week for your pleasure, I think you should get a Labrador. They're the original fisherman's friend."

Henry waited for a second before realizing Shawn was done, "What, that's it? No joke? No thinly veiled insult? Are you starting to phone this in?"

"Well… duh. We're literally on phones."

"That's not what I meant."

"It's what you said. And I thought you could use a nicer week, that's all. I'll make sure to be extra insulty next week to make up for it."

Henry breathed out a sigh of understanding. After all, his old marriage anniversary was less than an hour away at this point, he even had the fridge stocked full of alcohol for the occasion. He wasn't one to get sappy, so he just said a quiet, "Thanks kid." before continuing like normal, "I'll be judging you next week. I didn't raise you to half-ass things."

"Got it, be a full-ass and blame you when people start to complain! I can do that!"

(Click)

Henry just stared at his phone for another minute, still trying to process everything from angry, singing detectives to caring, aggravating sons. He finally gave up, tossing his phone on the couch next to him and turning up the volume on his TV. He didn't have the mental bandwidth for this crap, it was future-Henry's problem.

BUZZ BUZZ

"Gus, you're late! everything ok?"

"Hey Juliet, sorry about that. Shawn decided to quote the entirety of Princess Bride after we got our jerk chicken. And he refused to leave until I did the 'my name is Inigo Montoya' sword fight… I was Inigo of course."

"Of course." Juliet grinned, she never got tired of hearing about the boys' antics when it didn't involve a case.

"And then we were so close to the end, it only made sense to finish…"

"Please tell me Shawn didn't use his eight-year-old-girl voice for Buttercup."

"You know he did."

"Did you know he used that on me the first time we met?"

"Of course, he told me. He was very proud."

Juliet smiled again at the memory before shaking her head clear. "Ok, it's game time. You know the rules, no talking about Shawn, cases or food carts."

"I still don't know why you had to add that last one."

"The fact that you don't understand is the very reason it's there."

"Eh, fair. So, what did I miss?"

Juliet turned back to the TV in time to see a beautiful lady strut down the runway with a red dress draped across her shoulders, fabric flowing to the floor in waves. "Not too much, it's mostly the same stuff from last year with a few tweaks. There was a new designer showcased at the very beginning though. Her dresses were based on silk paintings!"

"You don't say, I'm gonna have to find pictures of those. Has any of Emily's stuff come up yet?"

"Not yet. They're giving her a feature spot in a few minutes."

"Good for her! Her designs are always the best. Have you talked to her recently?"

"I caught up with her just last week. She brought a handbag that she made just for me!"

"Is that where you got that cute pink purse with the black and gold accents?"

Juliet looked fondly at the purse in question sitting on her side table. "Yeah! She even designed it to have a gun holster without any bulges! She's the best."

"You know, I've always wondered… Why did you stop dressing up? After we met Emily, you started coming to work dressed to the nines. Then a week later you were back to the suits. N-not that you don't look great in the suits…They're very attractive. I-I mean…"

Juliet huffed a laugh at Gus' stuttering, "it's fine, I know what you meant. I don't know… I guess it just felt wrong. Like I was trying to play Juliet-with-a-badge instead of being Detective O'Hara. Does that make any sense?"

"Huh. Actually, yeah it does. I get it. It's like how I wear a tie when I'm in salesman-mode, it helps separate who you are and who you need to be for the job."

"Exactly! Yes! Though I have to wonder what that means about our partners who dress the same no matter what they're doing…"

"It means we are deep and they are shallow."

Juliet snorted, knowing full well that wasn't the case. "Or it just means we're less sure of who we actually are and how we fit in with everyone…"

"Nonsense, I know exactly who I am. I am a straight black dude watching a fashion show with a smart lady friend who could beat me and my best friend up without breaking a sweat."

"That you are. Never change Gus."

A voice suddenly spoke up from behind Juliet, "What?! Why is Gus changing? Gus can't change!"

Juliet whirled around in alarm, hand going into her purse to grab her gun before she recognized the voice. "SHAWN, what have I told you about sneaking up on me? I could have shot you!"

Shawn grinned at her from the doorway, one hand behind his back, the other holding his helmet by his side. "Well, that was the point! Ok, not the getting shot part, but I wanted to surprise you! Surprise!"

He stepped out of the doorway, hand moving forward to bring a dozen bedraggled roses into view. The flower heads were drooping and ragged, looking like they had just barely survived a hurricane. Juliet watched a few petals lose their battle with gravity before looking back up at Shawn, raising her eyebrows in a silent question.

"Ok, I'll admit. Buying flowers while on a motorcycle… not one of my better thought out ideas."

Juliet saw a brief look of vulnerability cross his face as he looked down and fiddled with his helmet. She felt her irritation at being startled melt away and she gave him a small smile. "You know what, I like them."

He perked up and looked at her hopefully, "Really?"

"Yeah, they have personality! They'll be like our own Charlie Brown roses, can you find a vase for them? I've got a few in the kitchen."

Shawn grinned before practically skipping to the other room.

Juliet turned back to the phone, "Hey, sorry about that. You still there?"

"Yep. You missed one of the coolest jackets ever. Also, you broke the rule first, you're paying for our next lunch."

"Hey that's not fair, he literally walked in on me!"

"Rules are rules."

"Ugh. Fine."

Shawn came back out of the kitchen, hands now empty, and flopped on the couch next to her, "Why are you talking to Gus anyways? Is there a case I don't know about?"

Juliet sighed and put her cell on speaker, setting the phone in the middle of the couch. "Believe it or not, we are capable of interacting without a dead body involved."

"Well yeah, that makes sense. What doesn't make sense is you two interacting without me."

Gus snapped over the phone, "Shawn, contrary to popular opinion, you and I are two distinct people and I can have my own friendships without involving you."

"Gus, don't be the one dead pixel on an Imax screen. You do realize you're trying to make your point by using your friendship with my girlfriend, right? How can I not be involved in that?"

"Boys, stop arguing. Shawn, you're welcome to stay and watch the fashion show with us…" Juliet smirked, "... but you have to follow the rules."

"Seriously? You have rules? What kind of friendships have rules?"

Gus sighed, "Adult friendships, Shawn. Healthy, adult friendships have rules."

"We don't have rules…"

"Sure we do. Rule one: I make a rule, you ignore it, I get to slap you."

"But that's a parody, if it's in the rule that I'm supposed to break the rule… We're going to tear a hole in the fabric of reality."

"It's a paradox, not a parody."

"I've heard it both ways." Juliet said quickly, barely waiting for Gus to finish his last word.

She grinned at Shawn as he looked at her in betrayal, "Jules! You broke my groove!"

Her grin grew, "Suck it."

"God, I love you."

"I know."

Gus groaned in frustration, "Oh. My. God. I'm going to add bedroom eyes to the list if you two don't stop!"

The two lovebirds broke away from their kiss, glancing down at the phone. Shawn pouted slightly at the interruption, "So, exactly how long is this list?"

"It's only four things, even you should be able to remember it." Shawn stuck his tongue out at the phone while Juliet stifled a giggle. "We don't talk about Shawn, cases or food carts. And we don't make bedroom eyes."

"Wait. I'm on the list?! Exactly how does this friendship between you two 'not involve' me if you literally have to make a rule to not talk about me?"

"... Suck it. And you're breaking the rules already."

"You suck it, and no I'm not, I didn't mention my name once."

"You suck it!"

"You suck it!"

"Both of you suck it! We don't always have the rules, just when we're doing something special. Like watching a fashion show. That I've barely gotten to actually watch..."

"Sorry Jules," the boys said in unison. Juliet's eyes met Shawn's and she smirked while lifting her chin in a smug challenge.

There was a beat of silence before Shawn clapped his hands together, breaking the gaze as he leaned back on the couch. "So! Fashion show, huh? Why wasn't I invited?" He gave Juliet a sidelong look, letting his gaze drop to take in her whole figure, "You know I can't resist looking at gorgeous people." His eyes flicked back up to hers, with an appreciative smirk of his own.

Juliet found herself debating which was more important, fashion show or making out. She reluctantly turned back to the TV, though it didn't stop her from giving Shawn a thorough scan of her own, taking in her boyfriend's casual sprawl that pulled his shirt tight in all the right places. Gus cut into her thoughts before they could turn explicit, "Why weren't you invited? Well let's see. One, we knew you would complain that you're better looking than all of them, even though everyone agrees you couldn't pull off being a model. And two, we didn't want you to 'sense' that one of them was a killer and ruin the night."

"Buddy, if one of them committed a murder, that would mean we'd have to go to the fashion show to check it out. You'd get the models and a case. Again. It'd be way better than just watching on TV."

"That's two rules that you've broken now!"

"Oh, there are rules? Darn, I must have forgotten. You know how distractible I can be."

Gus and Shawn began bickering again and Juliet finally gave up trying to watch the show, choosing instead to lean forward and watch Shawn in his element. His smile was contagious and his eyes sparkled in mischief as his hands swirled through the air, dancing with his words. He looked over as he sensed her attention, freezing for a moment as their eyes locked; Juliet felt an almost palpable jolt of energy jump between them as he stopped talking. His silence didn't deter Gus from obliviously continuing his side of the argument.

Shawn licked his lips before quirking an eyebrow and tilting his head towards the bedroom in a silent question. She nodded her head before pointing to the still-ranting phone sitting between them. Shawn shrugged in nonchalance before standing and taking her hand. She ignored the heat in her belly from his proximity, choosing instead to lightly smack his hand away before pointing again, emphatically, at the phone. He breathed out a quiet whine, leaning down to press his lips to hers, hands running suggestively over her sides. She turned her head away and grabbed the phone, thrusting it in his face without bothering to try and remove his hands. Pulling back from the cold plastic that had replaced warm lips Shawn rolled his eyes and mouthed 'FINE' at her in mock annoyance. His hands moved to more intimate areas as he spoke into the phone, cutting off the other man's rant.

"Hey Gus, Shawn loves the japadog food cart the best - it's way better than the Jamaican one - and Shawn would make bedroom eyes at the wieners all day long if it wasn't for the case of the moldy buns."

Juliet covered her eyes with one hand, biting her lip to keep from making any noise. She wasn't even sure if she wanted to laugh or moan at the terrible imagery. Shawn's fingers found a particularly sensitive spot and she suddenly had to stop a moan for an entirely different reason.

"SHAWN! I cannot believe you! I give up. Juliet, I'll see you at lunch this week."

(click)

"Well, that was easier than I expected…"

Juliet tossed the phone to the side, surging forward, arms wrapping around Shawn's neck as she resumed their kiss. The two stumbled away from the couch and into the bedroom, shedding their shirts as they went. One last quip could be heard before the door closed, "You know, generally fashion shows involve putting clothes on, not taking them off…"

DO YOU LIKE PINA COLADAS

"Detective Lassiter! To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Strode, this is… a courtesy call. I'm at Tom Blair's Pub and I'm currently staring at your wife. Who seems to be on a date with another man."

"Well, I don't blame you, I stare at my wife all the time too. She's going out with a friend tonight, she said there was a restaurant with biscuits that needed buttering. I didn't know the pub had biscuits!"

"They don't have biscuits and she's kissing the other man. Intimately."

Woody's smile fell slightly, "Well, Elaine has a lot of love to give... lots of people kiss their friends! I mean, I know she doesn't kiss me much, but that doesn't-"

Lassiter cut him off. "Strode. Woody. Friends don't stick their tongues down each other's throats. She's cheating on you. Again."

A small frown line appeared between the coroner's eyes, "Detective, I know you tend to see the worst in people, but Elaine has been faithful for months. I refuse to believe that she would throw that away for a man that she just met on the subway."

Lassiter sighed over the phone, "Let me guess, she met him when she got a membership to the 'mile long club.'"

Woody's face cleared and he smiled again, "Yes! That was it exactly! Are you a member?"

"Woodrow… She hasn't been faithful. Honestly, I don't think she ever will."

"You couldn't possibly know that."

" How many of these phrases has she told you in the past few months: Feeding the kitty. Giving the dog a bone. Burying the weasel. Whitewashing the picket fence. Foxtrot Uniform Charlie Kilo-"

"It's not a crime for friends to have pets. And why would she ever use the military alphabet?"

"... Rummaging in the root cellar. Creaming the twinky. Shrimping the Barbie. Tossing a hotdog down the hallway. Stuffing the taco-"

"Well now you're just making me hungry."

" Playing Tetris. Shampooing the wookie. Opening the gates of Mordor. Slytherin the Hufflepuff. Patching the hatchet wound-"

Woody's face went blank. "Oh dear."

"Assault with a friendly weapon. Gland-to-gland combat. The battle of balls-deep. Tactical insertion-"

"You've made your point Detective." There was a moment of silence as Woody closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead, all traces of his smile gone. "I… She promised. I know you all must think I'm a fool, but I believed her. I love her…"

Lassiter's voice was surprisingly gentle, "It's one of the hardest lessons to learn in life, but all love leads to despair in one way or another."

"Believe it or not, I already knew that. I've seen the results of it countless times on my autopsy table. I just always figured Elaine and I could be different. We would die beautifully together - maybe in a hang-gliding accident - and we'd be cremated while holding hands…"

"Do you want me to arrest her?"

Woody huffed a laugh with a small self-deprecating smile, "Thank you Carlton, but no. Last I checked, infidelity isn't a crime and even if it was… No jury would ever convict her once I got on the stand."

"... Damnit. Do you have pants on?"

Woody's face scrunched in confusion as he glanced down at his favorite Hawaiian shirt and boxers, "Define pants."

"If you have to ask then they don't count. There's a new bar near your place I've been meaning to try. Get dressed, I'll pick you up in ten minutes."

Surprise flickered across Woody's face followed by a small smirk, "Detective! Are you asking me on a date? I knew you thought fondly on that night as well!"

"Woody, we were roofied and nothing happened. Don't make me regret this."

The smirk grew wider, "Don't worry, your secret is safe with me!"

"There is no… just be ready in ten!"

(Click)

"Shawn's right. It really is fun to rile that man up…"

Woody set his phone back down on the table and his grin slowly fell off of his face as he glanced at his left hand and the golden band that signified his love and commitment to his wife. He twisted it off and held it to the light, contemplating how such a small thing could stand for something so big. He allowed himself one more sigh before placing the ring on the table and getting off of the couch. He needed to find some pants.

SHE'S A KILLER QUEEN

"Chief! Are you calling to finally approve the smoothie machine I requested for the break room?"

"Mr. Spencer. I'm calling you to remind you, again, that you are not allowed on this case."

"Case? The machine hasn't even been installed yet and it's involved in a case? What an overachiever!"

"I am not in the mood for games, Mr. Spencer. If any of my people find you near my suspect, they will not hesitate to arrest you."

Shawn stopped in front of a hotel, head cocked to the side in contemplation, "I gotcha, I can't be seen near the suspect. But I can't really help it if I 'see' the suspect, can I? It's not like I can turn my psychic powers off or anything..."

"This suspect is the only link we have to whoever planted those damn bugs in my precinct. They compromised my people and nearly got my head detective killed. This. Is. Personal. I can't have your dog and pony show getting in the way of our investigation or tipping off the perp in charge that we're onto them. Go home. Don't make me call Henry."

He rolled his eyes and started walking up the steps leading to the hotel's front doors, "Wow, threatening to bring down the dadinator. You really must be desperate."

"I'm not desperate, I'm serious. Something you have no hope of ever being."

"I can be serious! I've been serious a dozen times. Once I was so serious Gus had to start channeling the Joker."

Karen sighed in exasperation, "Mr. Spencer. Just go home."

"No can do, I can't help where the spirits lead me. Don't worry, I've got my serious-face on." Shawn walked through the doors with his eyebrows scrunched together and jaw clenched in his best Lassiter impression. The face only lasted a moment before his eyes widened and his jaw dropped in bewilderment at the scene in front of him. "Oh, holy cow."

The doors closed behind him with a gentle swoosh as he stood in shock, staring around the large lobby that was filled to the brim with people. People with fur, scales, pointy ears and tails; a rainbow of colors meshed together with glitter, sparkles and laughter. Shawn blinked and began to focus on smaller groups of people to try and make sense of the chaos. Two people dressed as Disney's Robin Hood and Marian, complete with fully accurate fox heads, stood by the door with a sign between them reading 'free hugs!' Remembering the feeling of an arrow whizzing by his ear, Shawn slowly sidestepped away from them. A group of people clustered around a computer monitor playing Smash Bros caught his attention next. He noted that the six people ranged from wearing completely normal civilian clothes to metal cat ears and face jewels to a full suit of pink fur. As he watched he saw the pink wolf raise their arms in victory, the video game controller barely visible in their furry paw. Movement in the background caught his attention as he saw a goth nonbinary person with bat wings run and jump into the arms of a person dressed as a dog with a robotic screen for a face. He suddenly realized a voice was talking into his ear, "-Spencer. Shawn! What's going on?"

"Oh, um… vision. I just had a vision that caught me off guard, that's all. Oh dear…" His eyes tracked a woman with an impressive rack of antlers who was wearing a skimpy outfit that flaunted her other impressive rack.

"A vision? About our suspect?"

"Maybe… I gotta call you back."

(Click)

Shawn took one more look around, pausing on another eclectic group of people who were clustered together around binders of art. He noted their lanyards that were labeled with 'Santa Barbara Furs' as he pulled out his phone, finding an old friend's contact with ease. He brought the phone to his ear and put on a winning smile, "Hey Sammy! Listen, I need a favor…"

BUZZ BUZZ

Juliet glanced at the caller ID before tapping her Bluetooth headset on, "Lassiter, I just pulled up to the station, is something wrong?

"No, but I need you back here right now."

Juliet paused while opening her door, "What? Why?"

"There's a nymph and an ape challenging my marksmanship. I need you to watch my back so I can destroy them."

Juliet heard another voice argue, "I'm a monkey, not an ape! Can you not see the tail? You must be blind to miss it… and that's why you don't stand a chance against us, old man."

Lassiter snarled back, "I'm about to whoop your ass so hard you'll be a fucking baboon. O'Hara, we can't let this stand. I need my partner so we can show these… people what true gunslingers look like."

"Carlton! You cannot shoot people just because-"

"I can when it's with lasers!"

"Oh my god!" Juliet stepped out of the car and slammed the door shut. "We've been trying to find this guy for a month and now, when we can finally start questioning him, you want me to turn back around? So we can run around playing a game?!"

"... Well when you put it like that…"

She opened her back door and guided a mousey-looking man to his feet, hands cuffed behind his back. "Look, he's already agreed to talk to me - his name is Conley Vincent by the way- so you're free to stay there and… destroy civilians for trash talking you. Maybe Shawn can help."

"I am not asking a man who's wearing a chicken mascot suit to watch my back. I still can't believe Sammy Winslow let him borrow that thing."

"I'm pretty sure, even in the chicken suit, Shawn's still the better pick between him and Gus…"

"True. Damn, it won't be nearly as fun without you."

Juliet stopped at the precinct door, mouth agape with shock, "Did you just admit that something is fun?"

"O'Hara, don't be ridiculous, shooting guns is always fun. Especially when there's no paperwork involved afterwards."

She shook her head in exasperated affection before guiding her perp through the doors and towards the interrogation room, "Of course, what was I thinking. Good luck out there."

"I don't need luck, I have skill."

(click)

BEEP BEEP

Karen clenched her jaw and quickly suppressed the fantasy of throwing her coffee mug through one of her glass walls. "Henry. Not now."

"Karen, I was just-"

"Nope. You are not going to lecture me like you do everyone else. I don't even know why you're calling, there wasn't even any danger this time around, not to mention almost no one knew Shawn was there anyways. He actually chose a decent disguise for once."

"I know, I wasn't-"

"And don't think that I don't know that you're all in danger because I can't keep my precinct safe. Every person who works for this department relies on me to make sure precautions are in place to keep them as safe as possible and I failed. Bug sweeps should have been a weekly scheduled maintenance, instead of a goddamn semi-annual fucking audit!"

"Karen! Would you just-"

"Two months! We were being watched for two months and we never even suspected. And not just my detectives, we found devices in three other departments, even the cyber division! How do they not find a goddamn digital listening device in their own room! Honestly, it's almost a blessing that your son doesn't know how to keep his nose clean. The few times my detectives weren't out in the field for the job, they were out keeping him and his compatriot from becoming another statistic. Did you know that Detective Lassiter had already started telling people to just use his cell for any work-related calls? If it wasn't for Shawn's circus act our perp would have so much more fucking information on us!"

"KAREN WOULD YOU LET ME SPEAK?!"

Karen spun her chair around, throwing her pen at the back wall where it broke into pieces with an unsatisfying clack. "WHAT."

"First off, breathe. You didn't fail anyone, and I would bet money that no one in that building blames you either. Those protocols have been in place for years, there was never a reason to change them until now. You've discovered a hole in your security and you're working on fixing it, just like a police chief should do."

"I could have done more; I should have fucking realized technology's moved on since our protocols were written."

"Maybe, but what other things would you have had to drop to be able to do that? You can't tell me you have weeks of free time just for a project of that magnitude."

Karen let out a manic laugh, "Hell, Henry, I don't have time now! I couldn't tell you when I last had more than four hours of consecutive sleep. Keeping track of scripts for people to read to keep the hacked phones live, riding cyber's tail to make sure they have everything they need to track this son of a bitch, keeping on top of all the normal crime, not to mention the Mayor's race which is its whole thing on its own…"

"When was the last time you got to actually spend time with your family?"

She visibly deflated, bracing her elbow on her chair arm to rub her eyes with her free hand, "When do you think?"

"Karen. You have to take a break. You have good people, trust them. I promise, you'll come back stronger for it."

"Dear lord, Henry Spencer is telling me to take a break…"

"Yeah, well. Maybe I've learned a thing or two in my old age. Everyone keeps insisting on treating me like I'm ancient, I may as well embrace it, yeah?"

Karen's lip twitched in an attempted smile before quickly giving it up. "I can't take time off right now. Not with this."

"I'm telling you that you need to take time now. Karen, you started freaking out at a friend who was just trying to check on how you were doing. I really don't want to know how you'll handle the next anti-police reporter who tries to get in your face."

She groaned and shifted her hand to cover her eyes, "Can you imagine what they would say if they got wind of this shit?"

"Exactly. Here's what you're going to do. Finish up what you're working on then meet me outside the station. I'll take you to a stand that Shawn swears has the best waffles-on-a-stick on the west coast. If I can trust that boy with anything, it's to know which food carts are worth going to. We'll get you detoxed from work so you can go home, sleep in your own bed and eat breakfast with your kid."

"... Breakfast after waffles?"

"Fine, brunch, whatever. You know what I mean."

Karen hesitated, glancing back at her desk and the piles of papers she still needed to go through.

Henry only waited a beat before answering for her, "Good, it's a plan then. I'll be there in twenty. And don't think that I won't come in to get you if you aren't outside… I might be more subtle than my son, but we've both got the same stubborn streak."

(click)

Karen raised one eyebrow at her phone, a shadow of a smirk crossing her face. She really wanted to meet the person who told Henry that he was subtle.

RING

"Lassiter? What's up?"

"Guster. I need a favor."

"Oh no." Gus scrambled out of bed, heart pounding. He remembered the last time that phrase had been used between them and they weren't memories he'd like to repeat.

"What… no! Nothing like that Gus."

"Oh thank god." Gus sat back down on his bed, shoulders relaxing slightly. "Don't do that to me man!"

"Well I'm sorry I don't have a list of phrases to not say around certain people."

"You should."

"What?"

"You have lists for everything else; you should make that list." Gus rubbed his chest as his breathing slowed back down to normal.

Lassiter's voice dripped with sarcasm, "Great idea, make a list of triggering words and phrases so the next wacko who comes after us knows how to freak everyone out. You practically live with Spencer, the head snoop of Santa Barbara, how are you not more aware of what's safe to write down and what's not?"

"Fair point. Sorry. So... what do you need?"

"Ah, right. Um, the thing is… I mean… uh…"

"Lassie, it's fine. Just spit it out."

There was a moment of silence and Gus wondered if he was about to be hung up on. Lassiter finally let out a sigh before speaking as fast as he could, "What's the tap combo to the second verse of Stacy's Mom?"

"Wait, what?"

I'm working on those freezer box murders, I know there's something I'm missing, so I'm… tapping. And if I'm going to tap, I'm going to do it right. But I can't remember what comes next after the slide, spank, step."

Gus couldn't help but grin, "so you're saying you're thinking about the Chiller Killer while spanking?"

"Goddamnit Guster."

"Sorry, I couldn't resist."

"Just… is the next step an Irish or a buffalo?"

"Irish flap, scuff, shuffle ball change."

"God am I glad no one else can hear this…"

"I dunno, I think it could be pretty funny to see Juliet's face while we're talking about ball changes."

"Yeah… no. I'm going now before this gets weirder."

"You're welcome."

"... Thanks."

(click)

11:00

Henry had a beer in hand, phone on the table, TV muted in the background. He was secretly curious how Shawn was going to 'full-ass' his weekly call.

11:05

He looked at the clock and then back at his phone, knee jiggling slightly under the table. "Come on kid, you promised not to phone it in this week…"

11:10

Henry was full-on pacing the room, muttering to himself, "You've managed to go half a year without missing a single call, don't tell me you've forgotten now…"

11:15

He glared at the phone that was daring to sit silently on the table, his instincts yelling that something was wrong. "If this is the joke, it's terrible."

11:20

Henry growled under his breath before grabbing the phone and pausing on the contact list. He brought up Gus' number, sure that if Shawn was doing something dumb then his best friend would be aware of it.

"You've reached Burton Guster and I can't come to the phone right now. If this call is in regards to Central Coast Pharmaceuticals, please press 1. If this call is in regards to Psych, please press 2. All other callers please wait for the tone."

Henry hung up and cursed before punching in the speed dial for Shawn's phone.

"Well hi, this is Shawn Spencer, psychic detective extraordinaire. The spirits told me you would call, but alas they weren't specific on the when. If you need my services, click the 1 button thingy. If you want to apply to be my nemesis, pick 2. If you're anyone else… ooh, jelly beans!"

"How the hell do you ever get clients with that kind of professionalism…" He checked the clock again.

11:25

BUZZ BUZZ

Juliet looked up from the files on her desk to her phone, surprised to be getting a call this late. "Henry? Why are you calling in the middle of the night?"

"Please tell me Shawn's with you and he just lost his phone again."

She frowned at the worried tone the older Spencer was failing to hide, "No, sorry. He was here around lunchtime checking a few things on the case we're working on and then he and Gus ran off to… do whatever it is they do."

"Do you know if he at least had his phone on him?"

"Yeah, he was showing me pictures of viscachas on it. They're like bunnies, but cuter!" Juliet's face lit up with a smile as she remembered the fat, fluffy critters.

"... Great. Well, he's not answering his or Psych's phone, and neither is Gus."

Juliet's smile dimmed a little as she thought about what Henry was saying, "Are you sure he's not just avoiding you? It wouldn't be the first time. I can try to call…"

"No. Shawn's been doing this thing where he calls every Tuesday at eleven o'clock to tell me about some dumb dog breed. He's been doing it for half a year and hasn't missed once, even when he ran away that one time."

"Oh my gosh, is that what that phone call in the middle of his vision was about a couple of weeks ago? He ranted about labradoodles for five minutes with a killer right in front of him!"

"Huh, I thought that week seemed weirder than usual... But see? Even during that, he called; I don't think he'd willingly miss it. Tell me about the case he was working."

"I'm sure you've seen it on the news, they're calling the guy the Chiller Killer. We think we know who he is, we just don't have the proof. You really think he's in trouble?"

Henry sounded part exasperated and part resigned, "When is Shawn ever not getting into trouble?"

Juliet sighed and started scanning her file, automatically noting which areas would be the best ones to start searching. "We can't jump to conclusions, can you swing by their apartments? I'll call Lassiter to let him know what's going on while I drive over to check Psych. We shouldn't rush into things if we don't have to, the boys are probably just having a movie marathon or something."

"Not while on a case they wouldn't. I'll check, but I'm coming straight to the precinct afterwards, you aren't keeping me from helping."

"I know better than to ask, don't worry. Call me back if you find anything."

"You too."

(click)

BAD BOYS BAD BOYS, WHATCHA GONNA DO

Lassiter pulled his car over to the curb before answering, "O'Hara, you got something?"

"Maybe? Shawn and Gus might be missing, they're not answering their phones. I'm almost to Psych now to check if they're there, Henry's checking their apartments."

"You don't even know for sure if they're missing, and you've already got Henry involved?"

"He's the one who involved me. He said something about Shawn missing a weekly phone call… he really seemed worried."

Lassiter closed his eyes and sighed in resignation, "For crying out loud. I swear, they can't go one month without getting into trouble."

"Not you too… We don't know for sure anything's happened."

"O'Hara, there's optimism and then there's just willing obliviousness. Don't be the latter. I'd honestly be thrilled if you decided to give up the former."

"What? You're usually the first to say to not jump to conclusions. We have to get the facts."

"If Spencer goes missing right as the case is almost closed, then he's in trouble. That is a fact, derived from over five years of working with him."

"... I just got to their office. Shawn's motorcycle is here, but not Gus' car."

Lassiter carefully kept his tone neutral, refusing to show his worry, "Any signs of a struggle?"

"No, but the office door's locked, so Gus was the last one here."

"Probably from this morning. They meet at the office, drive to the precinct together, go out to stick their noses where it doesn't belong, probably get caught… Crap. How long does it take for hypothermia to get dangerous?"

"It depends on how cold it is and how much protection you have. It can be deadly within an hour with the right conditions. Carlton…"

Lassiter quickly turned his car back into traffic, "Spencer says Binton's the guy, but we don't have any proof to convict him. We just have a bunch of, admittedly suspicious, circumstances. They probably went to go find evidence that they could lead us to-"

Juliet cut him off, sounding annoyed. "Shawn doesn't find evidence, he has visions about where the evidence is."

Lassiter shook his head. A voice in his head that sounded disturbingly like Shawn urged him to say 'I can't do this with you right now.' He ruthlessly shoved the reply back down; this wasn't the time to go poking holes in his partner's unwavering belief in people. "Fine, they go somewhere to see, hear, taste something so Spencer can get a 'vision.'" He still can't stop himself from adding in the air quotes. "But Binton catches them and has to keep them quiet. He's never actually killed anyone in cold blood, his whole MO is killing people without ever laying a hand on them. So he'd look for the fastest way to do that. Where has he worked recently that has meat freezers? The kind that goes below zero degrees."

"He's worked for two food storage places in the last month, but they're on opposite sides of town. Damnit, Carlton we haven't seen them for ten hours. If that's what happened…"

He noticed that she hadn't even needed time to look through the files before answering. He allowed himself a small proud smile as he mentally crossed 'willingly oblivious' back off of his list of O'Hara traits. "Send me the address for the nearest one, you find some backup and take the other. We don't have the time or evidence to organize a full manhunt."

"You can't go in on your own!"

"Again, there's not enough time. Send McNab my way if you need to, but I'm not going to wait and find out they'd be alive if I hadn't hesitated."

(click)

Lassiter continued driving, keeping an eye on his phone. As soon as it dinged with an address he turned on the sirens and floored the accelerator. He knew he would be in hot water once this was done, but he couldn't really find it in himself to care.

I'VE HEARD IT BOTH WAYS, THE RIGHT WAY AND THEN YOURS

"Shawn!" Henry clutched his phone to his ear like a lifeline, needing to hear Shawn's voice; his pessimistic side refused to just believe Lassiter's word that everyone was safe.

"Hey D-Dad, s-sorry I m-missed our c-call." Shawn's voice was shivering, but otherwise he sounded like he always did. Henry let the phone rest on his forehead for a moment as he breathed out a sigh of relief.

He turned his phone to speaker so Juliet, in the driver's seat next to him, could hear as well. "You realize I'm gonna expect 150% on your call next week, right? Just full-ass won't cut it this time."

"I d-dunno, n-nearly getting my l-little Shawns f-frozen off s-seems pretty f-full assed to m-me."

"Juliet can hear you, just so you know."

"l am s-so sorry you had t-to hear that Jules. I p-promise all they n-need is a good hot s-soak and th-they'll be right back in f-fighting shape."

Henry sputtered, "SHAWN! I did not need to hear that!"

Juliet cut in, "Shawn, are you guys OK?"

"Y-yeah, there were some b-boxes in th-the back, we were able t-to make a k-kinda tent. N-not the most c-comfortable cuddle, but it w-worked."

"And you said you'd never use my winter survival skills." Henry said smugly.

"T-technically it isn't w-winter, so s-still not useful."

"I trained you in a walk-in fridge, definitely useful."

"Henry!" Juliet stared at him in horror.

"What?! It was safer than going to the mountains! Eyes on the road. And I was right there, it's not like he was in danger."

"I w-was also eight. And you left m-me in there for l-like an hour."

"And now it saved your ass, you're welcome."

Juliet clutched her steering wheel so tight her knuckles started turning white. "Henry, if I had been a cop back then I would have arrested you for child endangerment."

"Excuse me?!"

"No. He's told me some of your training exercises, and I'm guessing there's some that I won't ever know. Locking him in a trunk, leaving Gus and him alone in the woods to find their own way home, burying Easter eggs under broken glass... A killer just locked him in a freezer and you're sitting here bragging about how you did the same thing to him when he was a kid?!"

Henry sat up straight, looking as imposing as a bald man in a Hawaiian shirt could, "Every time we did an exercise I was right there teaching him, or I'd already told him everything he needed to know. And in case you forgot, those lessons have kept him alive, including tonight!"

Fire flashed behind her eyes as she glared back at him, "Shut. Up. Right now. I'm pretty sure I could still arrest you if I wanted to."

Henry opened his mouth to keep arguing and Juliet began to slow down, hand drifting to her handcuffs. He eyed her up, taking in her set shoulders and clenched jaw, before quickly closing his mouth, teeth coming together in an audible click.

"Oh my g-god Jules, you are so hot r-right now."

Juliet gave the phone a tight smile, "I love you too, but we really need to talk again about how many times you go running off without proper back up."

"T-To be fair, I m-made it two months this time b-between near death experiences. B-Baby steps, right?"

Juliet sighed, "I'm hanging up now, we're ten minutes away. Are you going to the hospital?"

"N-No, got checked out already. Gus m-might though, if his flirting with the EMT is anything t-to go by…Oh, wait! I almost f-forgot. Dad, you n-need a Saint Benard. But no brandy, it needs to have a b-barrel of smoothies instead… P-pinneapple smoothies. Can smoothies be warm? I w-want hot pineapple smoothies with a b-big, fluffy, warm dog."

Henry snorted in amusement before holding his hands up in surrender at Juliet's glare.

"It's ok, I know it's t-too late to get a dog tonight. J-Jules, you're gonna have t-to take me home and warm m-me up the old fashioned way."

(click)

Juliet glared at Henry for ending the call; he pointed at his still closed lips, raising one eyebrow in a clear mocking question. She narrowed her eyes at him before replying, "Just remember Henry, you made him this way."

They drove in silence for several minutes, both lost in their own thoughts. As the blinking lights of the ambulance became visible Juliet frowned, eyebrows furrowed as she turned back to Henry. "Wait, your ringtone… was that Lassiter singing?!"

BAD BOYS BAD BOYS, WHATCHA GONNA DO

Lassiter barely looked up from his glass of scotch as he answered his phone, "Spencer, doesn't saving your ass earn me at least one night of reprieve from you?"

Shawn's voice, though maintaining its usual energy, was slightly slurred as he answered, "Lassie! Lassieface, Lassifras, Lassito-ito-mojito. My fair Lass. Lassie and the Bandit, Lasserella, Lassie come-"

"Are you drunk?"

"Why are you always asking me that? I may be drinking things with alcohol, but I'm still sharp as a letter opener and I can guarantee I'll remember at least half of the words I'm saying right now."

"So… you're drunk."

"Oh ye of black and white thinking. Why does it have to have a label? I am both drunk and not drunk, I'm Schrute's cat."

"Schrodinger's cat"

"Gazuntite. Are you allergic?"

Lassiter narrowed his eyes, sensing a rare opportunity, "Are you a psychic?"

"Yep. You really thought you'd get a different answer with some alcohol?"

He sighed and took another sip of his own drink, "Not really, but now I know you lie just as well drunk as you do sober."

"Thank you."

"It wasn't a compliment."

"Maybe not to you." There was a light clinking of ice over the speaker and Lassiter realized Shawn was pouring himself another drink. For a moment he tried to guess what sort of fruity nightmare was Spencer's poison of choice before deciding it was safer that he never knew.

"Spencer, if this is just a drunk dial I'm hanging up."

"Nope, this is a 'thanks for pulling my and Gus' attractive asses out of the fire' call. Or ice, as it were."

Lassiter rolled his eyes and went to fill his nearly empty glass. "I was just doing my job, Spencer. You two are still civilians and I actually like Guster. Sometimes."

"One, Gus and I are like nesting dolls, if you like one of us then you've admitted to liking both of us-"

"Nesting dolls? So which one of you is inside the other?"

There was a slight sputtering sound over the phone and Lassiter grinned in triumph into his glass. For his credit, Shawn recovered quickly. "Point to you. So, the score stands at Lassie:5, Shawn:900."

"I feel like I should get a point for every time I've saved your ass."

"Nonsense, that's an entirely different scorecard, though I will admit you are well ahead of me on that one. But thank you for the great segue into my next point: Two, you weren't doing your job. Not this time at least."

Lassiter growled into the phone, trying to ignore how his hand had tightened its grip around his glass. "Spencer…"

"Let me lay out the facts. You had no facts. No clues, no certainty, no warrant. You conducted an illegal search of private property based solely on a hunch and a psychic vision instead of following proper police procedure like you always do. Why?"

Lassiter glared at his half-full glass before draining it in one swallow. "You know why."

"I have an idea of why, but I want to hear it from you. If you'd done what you always do, following the evidence instead of your instincts, then you wouldn't have gotten a warrant till morning at the earliest. And you would have opened that door to a chocolate and vanilla-swirled psych-cicle. I want to know why we're still alive."

"Because you have the luck of the crazy drunk who survives a car crash because he simply failed to realize that he was ever in any danger."

"Nope. That's not it. Try again."

Lassiter slammed his glass onto his table, "What do you want me to say? You were right and I was wrong? Again? That I finally did what you told me to do years ago outside that bank, grab life by the little Lassiters and trust my gut? I went against everything I stand for, everything I believe, everything I AM, because of a missed phone call and a guess." He wasn't sure why the words kept tumbling out of his mouth, but he knew they were true as soon as he said them. "By betraying myself, I saved your lives… and you wanna know the really scary thing? I would do it again in a heartbeat to save any of our family."

"Lassie…"

"Ugh, 'family'. Stupid feelings... Stupid scotch." He squinted at the glass bottle sitting on the table, waiting for the edges to stop moving before grabbing it and pouring another glass.

"Did you ever think that maybe you didn't betray yourself? Maybe you've just leveled up, instead of being a good cop who follows the clues, you're getting to be a great cop who knows when to follow the clues and when to follow his gut."

"Right. Because great cops get two weeks of suspension and risk letting a murderer walk free via mis-trial."

"Lassie, you finding us means there's no way they won't get a warrant for the dude's house, and they'll find plenty of evidence there, don't worry. Also, the Chief was wrong to suspend you, I'm not joking or exaggerating when I say you saved our lives."

Lassiter shook his head, forgetting for a moment that he was on a phone call and Shawn couldn't see him. "She did what she had to do… You know, before I met you, I knew who I was. I followed procedure to the letter, I believed in the system, I knew where I stood. There was good and bad and I was feared and respected and it was right. And then you waltz into my life and suddenly the lines start to get…" he struggled for a moment, trying to find the right word, "...wiggly."

"Would you go back if you could?"

He paused for a moment, suddenly realizing the truth as he said it, "No."

"See, not a betrayal. Just the first time you noticed the level up."

"Huh." Lassiter swirled his glass around before putting it back down on the table. Maybe he wanted to remember this conversation after all. He took a deep breath before focusing on the phone again, "So we know why I'm drinking, what's your excuse?"

"I almost died, isn't this what normal people do when that happens?"

"Sure, but we both know you're not normal. You went on a date the same day you confronted a psychopath, you've been kidnapped several times and it's never slowed you down, guns are pointed at you on a nearly weekly basis; near-death experiences never bother you."

"Correction, they can't bother me. When you see things the way I see them… you can't help but remember all of it and you have to learn to either surf the waves or drown in the depths and never have a hope of seeing the present again..."

Lassiter sighed, "Shawn, we both know you're not psychic, cut the crap and answer the question."

Shawn snorted and Lassiter couldn't help but feel like he had failed a test. There was a pause before Shawn continued. "Fine, short answer is that it's always easier to walk it off when Gus isn't there with me. I have more nightmares about Yin in that house than I do about the day Longmore shot me, take a wild guess as to why."

"So what, you finally realized your actions put others in danger?"

"I've known that for a while now, and Gus told me he wouldn't change a thing, which is terrifying on a whole other level. This was just the first time in a long time where there was absolutely no reason to think that there would be a rescue. It's kinda hard to talk a metal door into letting you go, and the cold couldn't really be stalled, ya know? And Gus was there, and he's not supposed to be there, he's supposed to be in bed with his warm jammies and sweet innocent dreams of selling drugs to ice cream cones or something, and there was no reason to think anyone would even know to look for us, even though I had a sliver of a hope because it was a Tuesday, but I figured Henry would think that it was just a prank or I'd forgotten or I'd decided to be done with it or-"

"Shawn. Breathing is important."

Shawn took an exaggerated breath, making sure to exhale loudly into the phone. "We thought we'd finally gotten got, but we still had to try. And we were in there for hours. So, maybe I just… want to try and not remember for a night. Cue the pineapple juice and vodka. And I'm all out of pineapple juice."

Lassiter couldn't help but laugh at the reference. "We're gonna be so hung over tomorrow."

Shawn giggled slightly, "try not to sleep with Woody this time."

"Ugh, why does everyone bring that up?"

"Because it's hilarious."

Lassiter just huffed in amusement. They sat in silence for a minute while he tapped his fingernails against his glass, thinking about what Shawn had said.

"Lassie, you're thinking too loud. Wanna share with the class or are we done with the 'sharing is caring'?"

He debated shrugging off the question for a minute, but he remembered that Shawn had helped him feel better, it was only fair that he tried to return the favor. "...If you had never come into the station, if I had never tried to arrest you… I'd be dead right now. Shanked in prison or shot in the head, it really doesn't matter. Drimmer, Salamatchla, Cortez… All of those would have happened with or without you, but the only way I survived them was with you. You don't just put people in danger, you know, you save them too."

"That… That's probably the second nicest thing you've ever said to me. Maybe the third."

Lassiter paused for a second, trying to place the previous instances, before shaking his head. "Don't take this as me condoning you constantly running straight into danger. You are definitely an idiot and it will definitely get you killed. But you haven't died yet, and that's more than just dumb luck. Take your wins where you can and don't get too caught up in the what-ifs when it gets too close."

"Wow, drunk-Lassie is nice-Lassie. I don't know what to do with this."

"Drunk-Shawn is normal-Shawn, which doesn't really surprise me at all."

"Love you too Lassie."

"Good night"

"Nuh-uh, you gotta say it back. We just bared our souls, it's a drunk code of honor! Don't leave me hanging man!"

Lassiter sighed before looking around, checking that no one had snuck into his apartment to overhear his conversation. "...Love you too Shawn."

(Click)