This is not my first piece of literature I've written, but it IS the first fanfic I've posted. It is a Shassie, as you can see... (Why else would you be here?)

I'm (obviously) planning to write more chapters. How quick they'll be written will depend on two things, 1) not getting writer's block, and 2) not getting any (positive) reviews. Reviews are like a writer's soup. FEED ME PEOPLE.

It contains slashy Shassie goodness and some suspense. (I can hear you now..."Don't kill Shawn oh god, no!") Don't worry. I don't kill my favorite characters like some people do. I torture them if they're cute, sure, but killing? That's too depressing for my liking. (Ahaha...Right.)

I will be adding "suggested listening" to any and all chapters/sections of chapters. Oh, and I haven't proof read it or put it in an advanced program yet. You have been warned. Forgive me. It will be scanned and perfected soon.

Disclaimer: If I owned Psych, you would know. So I do not...Just to make that clear.

Warnings: ...Nothing really in this chapter, unless you have an uncanny fear of kidnappers, in which case you should run while you have the chance.

So, without further adue, let us start, and for goodness sake, LET ME KNOW what you think of it.

Oh...and let me make this clear. I'm not opposed to constructive criticism, to the contrary, I'm actually quite appreciative of it, HOWEVER...if you review with something like, "was stupid dont like it wut da hell is wrong wit u"...I will not only disregard it but delete it and move it to my personal collection of "The Language of Idiots" document.

Okay. NOW we can start.

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Detective Carlton Lassiter walked through the front doors of the Santa Barbra Police Department. Another day at work. He grabbed a newspaper from a stand not too far from the doors. Another boring day. He walked to his desk, dropped his breif case, and threw his coat over his chair. Another stressful day. Officer McNabb handed him his coffee, smiling and saying something along the lines of "Good morning sir". He noticed the officer still hadn't left and blunty looked up at him. "What do you want, a good morning speech? Get back to work."

Another day having to deal with an annoying psychic. However, he noticed that he hadn't yet seen the younger obnoxious Spencer in the department. Hah. It must be his lucky day.

He skimmed through the newspaper while sipping at his coffee slightly, it was still too hot for his liking. Hmm. Nothing too eventful. There were no murders...No drug smuggling articles...Just a few minor robberies. There weren't even any kidnappings--- Oh wait, what was this? Page 2. There had been a kidnapping. He sat in his chair, crossing his legs, ready to start his morning by reading about the case that would probably end upon his desk later.

But, before he could read any further, his female partner, Juliet, walked quickly to his desk and stopped. "Lassiter." She sounded urgent. So much for starting his morning quietly. Laying his coffee and paper down, he sighs and looked up at the junior detective. "What is it Ohara?"

...And suddenly he regretted looking up. Juliet was biting her lip worriedly, she looked like she was stressed beyond belief. Quite honestly, he hadn't seen her like this since they had first partnered up. "Ohara?" He sat more upright, studying her features and trying to decipher what she was troubled over. Although, no detective, no matter how good, could read a person's mind. The only person capable of doing that was...well...a psychic. Too bad they don't exist. Or at least so Lassiter refuses to believe so.

"It's...It's Shawn..." She said taking a deep breath and trying to calm herself, "He's missing." Seriously? Lassiter had seen him just yesterday, he couldn't be 'missing'. Spencer was Spencer, and it wasn't out of the ordinary for him to be in the most random place at the most random time, Ohara should know that...which made him wonder..."...And you know this how? He's probably just in some odd place doing some odd thing. Besides, a person can't be labelled missing until they're gone for at least fourty-eight hours." He stated as a matter-of-fact-ly. "No...He's...He's missing." She repeated.

The chief suddenly turned the corner to his desk. "Detective Lassiter, Ohara. Have you started the investigation?" She asked in her usual authoritive voice. was different. It wasn't her usual authoritive voice. It had a hint of worry concealed in it. "What investigation? Don't tell me this is about Spencer missing. You too?" He asked, slightly annoyed. He didn't need this, not now. His ex wife had called him last night for the first time in months, five to be exact, and he didn't need any uneccessary stress added to his day.

"Yes. It is. He was last seen last night on the beach by his father's house..." the chief started. Lassiter was about to cut in, planning to protest, getting more annoyed by the second with this rubbish, but stopped as Karen continued. "...being forced at gun point into a black van. A few people on the beach witnessed it, but no one noticed a license plate. They've all agreed to come in for questioning if need be. Also, three days ago, a woman was reported to be seen in an almost identicle situation. She was forced by gun point into a black van by the store where the old bell tower used to be. I need you to track down this van as soon as possible and arrest anyone you find in it."

Oh. Well that's different. Damn. Hmm. Lassiter just smiled at everyone. At Juliet, at Karen his chief. He didn't quite know what to do...Or say...Or think for that mater. 'Okay, Gotta get myself together. Come on Carlton. Snap to it. Okay. This is a case. What do we have...'

The chief sighed and walked back towards her office. Juliet just sort of stared at her partner with a confused frown. What on earth was going through Lassiter's head...maybe he had finally snapped.

'...Spencer was seen last night being forced into a van with a gun pointed at him. Van has no license plate. Woman was forced into supposedly the same van three days ago...So...Spencer...Gun...Van...Gone...Missing...' "Wait! Chief. Do we have any leads on the other missing person?" he called breaking out of the speeding cycle of thoughts his mind had trapped him in.

The chief, who was about to close her office door stopped at hearing that. She took a long, silent pause. "We found her this morning." she said before closing her door and shutting all the blinds.

"Oh...well that's no so bad." he said aloud. Ohara bit her lip and shook her head slowly, "No, Carlton." ...Silence. She was dead. He could see it from the look on the blonde's face. "...How." He stated more than asked. "..." "Ohara, answer me." "...Her body was a warehouse by the docks...she was tortured until her body just...gave up...She was tortured to death, Lassiter." the young woman said grimly, "And if we don't solve this case quick enough...We'll find...Shawn...the...the same way..."

Juliet Ohara had a sharp mind. She was intelligent, observant, and an excellent detective. She could look at gruesomely murdered victim bodies and not flinch, but this was different. He was her friend. Shawn was her friend. And if anything ever happened to him, she would be just as devastated as someone who had known and loved him all his life. Picturing his shattered body lying in a warehouse truly terrified her. His light hearted laughter, his goofy smile, his naiive childish composure... Everything about him brought light to the SBPD, and she knew that if he was gone, the entire police department would be affected. She would loose one of the only things that made this sort of job livable. And regardless of whether her partner would admit it, he would miss the obnoxious psychic too.

- - - - - - - - - was SO much shorter than I had intended...That...kind of sucks. Well, anyway, I promise the next chapter will be longer. Much longer. Like at minimum twice this size. Failing to meet the reader's expectations is one thing but failing to meet your own is just so sad...

Anyway. I'll be writing a second chapter regardless of reviews because I'm simply just not pleased with how quickly this chapter ended. I'm depressed. I think I'll have warm milk and go to bed. And cry.

Bai Bai my fellow pineapple hearted friends.