Author's Note: This is my first attempt at a Psych fan fiction. It's a Shassie Fic / Hurt!Shawn fic (nothing terrible). Continuation will be determined by feedback! So please! Read n Review!



The Charade

Something was wrong, Lassiter was certain. Even with the applause he was receiving from his co-workers as he stepped through the station, something felt off. He could feel it in his bones. No one else seemed to notice though, there were smiles all around.

"You really did a great job" O'Hara's compliment brought Lassiter back down to earth, he forced a smile.

"Thanks O'Hara I couldn't have caught that guy without your help though – you deserve credit to."

"Nonsense" Chief Vick's voice interrupted them, and she too was smiling.

"Not that O'Hara didn't do anything to help; but she did tell me all about how you tracked our guy straight down, nabbed him right before he dived out that window. You should be very proud detective."

Lassiter still felt unsure, praise like this was common after such a high profile case was over with – he was used to it by now. Something still felt wrong.

"As much as I hate to admit it Chief" Lassiter started "but if Spencer hadn't…"

Lassiter stopped talking then, the feeling of wrongness finally having a vocal point.

"Where are Spencer and Guster?"

The second he asked the question, O'Hara then realised that Shawn and Gus weren't anywhere to be seen either.

"That's actually weird; they usually come in right behind us." She said "I can give him a call – make sure they're on their way here or they're on their way home at least."

"Do so" Chief Vick responded.

Lassiter thought of it then, it wasn't unlike Spencer and Guster to be tardy sometimes. Though the last couple of days had been odd – though Shawn did arrive on the crime scene all jazz hands and magic smoke, there had been moments where he'd vanish for more then a view moments at a time. There had even been a couple instances in the last couple of days where Lassie inadvertently threw a few clever insults in the psychic's direction and received very little if any snarky comeback.

"Weird" Lassiter said to himself.

"No need!" Shawn's voice was as distinct as ever, he and Gus came strolling through the front doors in their usual fashion – O'Hara who had dialled the first few digits of his number promptly hung up the phone.

"What took you so long?" She asked, and Shawn carelessly shrugged.

"Stopped for ice cream – new place around the corner has chocolate chip cookie dough with a delicious blend of sprinkles and brownie in each scoop. We were tempted, intrigued, over come with desire – tell me, when faced with a creamy dream like that. What is a poor psychic and his protégé to do?"

Gus just nodded in silent agreement.

"Well" Chief Vick said then "In either case, we're just wrapping up here Mr. Spencer, the case is closed and we have you two and detective Lassiter to thank."

"All in a day's work" Gus said proudly "but really, it was Lassiter who was really on the ball this time isn't that right Shawn?"

Shawn didn't answer. He stood in silence.

"Shawn? Shawn?"

Lassiter's eyebrows rose slightly when it took Gus a couple tries to get Spencer to say something – but when Spencer did it was like he hadn't missed a beat.

"Yeah – right, anyhow Chief odd favour if I may" Shawn started "When you write the cheque out this time, could you pay it to the order to El Capitan Spencer? There's this new teller at the bank who seems to only flirt with guys who have a more prominent prefix then 'Mr.' next to their name – Dr. and Sgt. Spencer are also acceptable substitutes."

It was normal Spencer behaviour, and normal Guster reaction. Lassiter watched as Guster delivered a quick knock it off elbow to Spencer's side. Normally this just caused Spencer to get in one more quick remark before standing up straight and clamping it. No one was quite expecting what happened next to happen.

Spencer moaned, quite audibly and very uncomfortably. Amazing how horrifying only a few seconds could be. Spencer grabbed his stomach in an extreme defensive pose – like he had just got shot or something, he stumbled forward much in that fashion as well. Before Lassie knew what he was doing, he was diving forward and watching with a strange fixation at the way Spencer's eyes rolled into the back of his head. There was a soft thud as Spencer landed limp and unconscious in Lassiter's arms. Lassiter not even realizing then had wrapped his arms around Spencer completely, holding him there, and immediately hollering for someone to call an ambulance.

Gus was too stunned to move looking continuously between Spencer and his elbow. O'Hara had acted on the same instinct as Lassiter but could only stand there as Lassiter refused to let go of Shawn. It was Chief Vick who had reached for the phone and called for an ambulance.

"What the hell Spencer…." Was all Lassiter could really say, he couldn't say anymore. He felt so odd – a tightening in his throat, an involuntary pierce to his chest, breathe hitching.


Lassiter was terrified for Spencer's life. What shocked him however was that this wasn't the first time he really felt it. Nope – the first time he had heard Spencer had been run off the road on his motorcycle. The second time being when Shawn was shot, and captured -Lassiter still remembered finding Spencer's blood on the ground – and now there was …this.

Funny how just an hour earlier, Lassiter had finished cuffing up the bad guy, and had led him out of that apartment, Shawn and Gus standing close by.

The second Lassiter was out of site, Gus had turned on Shawn.

"What the hell man!" He said excitedly "You said you had this one."

"I did" Shawn defended "I had it down to a perfect T, but Lassie beat me to the punch. Hurtful, but oddly humbling -so no worries."

"No worries over Lassiter beating you at a case? That doesn't sound like you Shawn, what's up?" Gus sounded a little concerned if not annoyed.

"Beat me?" Shawn had chuckled then "When did I ever say it was a competition Gus?"

"Ohhh I don't know" Gus exasperated "Something like…every day! For the past 4 years Shawn! Now tell me what's up!"

"Okay you got me there" Shawn said then "Alright, we lost this one – my heart is shattered, how about ice cream?"

Gus knew he wouldn't win. Shawn was shutting him out "fine" he said and Shawn smiled and slapped his knee. Much to Gus' annoyance,

"Excellent!" Shawn said- just as Juliet popped her head back into the room.

"Hey guys!" She said "We're heading back the station now, you coming?"

"Yeah" Gus said, and he started to follow the detective out of the room. Shawn seeing the opportunity just waved em off.

"You two go ahead, Gus I'll meet you outside in a minute."

"Sure" Gus responded as he walked off.

Shawn waited a good ten seconds after he couldn't hear declining footsteps anymore and completely broke down. His whole stomach burned with pain, his vision became spotted and he raced for the bathroom. Shawn had been sick before – but not like this, this flu he had was determined to kick his ass. He tried to fight it.

"Nope not even alone" Shawn told himself, he refused to be anything less then awesome. His body was listening though – then and there, and lasting for a good five minutes he became violently ill. Kneeling over the toilette like it was a deity.

"Hate my life…" Shawn finally grumbled to himself when he finished being sick, the feeling of fire subsiding for now. Shawn straightened up, fixed his shirt, used toilette paper to wipe the sweat off his face, and moved quickly to meet Gus in the parking lot.

"What took you so long?" Gus asked, but Shawn immediately ignored him as he settled himself into the passenger seat of Gus' Echo.

"I Insist on Ice cream" Shawn said immediately – originally he hadn't actually planned on ice cream, but maybe something cold would keep his stomach calm for awhile longer. It was a gamble but he had to take it, and after today he planned on hiding from the general public – even Gus, until this weird flu was done and over with.

"We're meeting Juliet and Lassiter at the station" Gus said, and Shawn pouted. He immediately resorted to whining – relentlessly begging for ice cream until Gus finally pulled over at the ice cream parlour.

"Gus you're awesome!" Shawn was so happy, but more relieved he didn't have to confess to his friend that he was sick.

"Whatever" Gus said "I'm getting strawberry"

They ate in near silence, Gus for the first time in their lives being the first to finish.

"You're taking too long" Gus complained "What is wrong with you Shawn?"

"Nothing" Shawn lied "This ice cream is immaculate; I always thought that sprinkles were just a topping – but no. These babies are baked right in – and not a pitiful amount either…Gus its happening to me. I'm in love." He sounded whimsical, but really he was talking as much shit as possible to keep from having to take another bite. The first swallow of ice cream had been a bad bad idea. His stomach clenched and protested, and started turning. The pain actually started to spread down his legs this time.

Aw crap. Was Shawn's first thought, not that he was about to say anything other then -

"Let me enjoy this" Shawn said, another lie. Gus seemed to just accept it as Shawn being Shawn and leaned back in his seat twiddling his thumbs. Gus wasn't stupid, he knew something was up.

Shawn knew that Gus' feelings were confirmed when Shawn didn't finished his ice cream. He wanted to try again and ask Shawn again what was wrong – Shawn could tell. Thankfully however they had reached the police station. Everyone was already surrounding Lassiter with praise and on the verge of calling Shawn when it became apparent that he and Gus were taking too long to arrive.

Sweet, off the hook!

"No need!" Shawn had noticed from a distance whose number Jules was about to call. Everything took off then. Shawn did his very best to keep up appearances.

Just a quick stop in, then have Gus drive you home. Home to your bed…

He had a flawless plan, to grab his cheque and book it before anyone caught on to the fact that he wasn't up to his normal speed. Shawn hated the idea of anyone seeing him even remotely burnt out. Getting home was on the top of his list – but before then he had to do his usual bit. Make a couple comments, piss off Lassie one more time today, and say his goodbyes. The first comment about the ice cream went off without a hitch. Not one person seemed to notice anything different about him.

Excellent – Almost home free, I'm celebrating this with the expensive pineapple juice the next time I buy groceries. Willing to try anything to get rid of his pain, oh god it's burning again. Damn you entrails!

"Shawn? Shawn?" It was Gus' voice that brought him back down to where he was, he was feeling delirious – where was he? Right! The Station! First plan of action – his cheque, it was amazing how he could talk so fluently when he felt so far away and ready to cry like a little wimp.

"Yeah" Shawn heard himself say "– right, anyhow Chief odd favour if I may" Shawn started "When you write the cheque out this time, could you pay it to the order to El Capitan Spencer? There's this new teller at the bank who seems to only flirt with guys who have a more prominent prefix then 'Mr.' next to their name – Dr. and Sgt. Spencer are also acceptable substitutes."

The pain was much, much too hard to bear then. The charade of not being sick was over as every nerve in his body seemed to spasm and scream. He didn't even feel Gus' elbow hit him, he felt everything else. He would've screamed – he was sure he even tried, but nothing too significant sounding came about. Shawn couldn't decipher what happened next. He was falling, he could feel a rush of air hit his face but then…blackness and the feel of hitting something warm. Feeling something warm – like a hug. As Shawn slipped completely away he was happy to note that the warm feeling was comforting and had completely taken away his pain. That was a rare occurrence for the fake Psychic.