A/N: Okay….So I know I've already got two fics going, but it could be awhile. I have scatter brain right now, and right now my scatter brain is telling me to write this fic instead. So I am! This is the first chapter of a fic I mentioned in my last post – A fic called "Shassie Summaries." Give it a quick read and you'll see what I mean when I say scatter brain. (Damn plot bunnies!) So as much as I'm having fun writing Dream Ring and Lassie Hates Ramen Noodles, both those fics are on hiatus right now as I'm determined to finish this one. It sucks I know but I think I'm doing better with this one anyway! I even made a prologue for this one.

Alright, there's my senseless two sense before the start of a fic so without further ado ONWARD I SAY!


Disclaimer: I don't own Psych, never have, never will, and hopefully do somewhere off in an Alternate Universe. I do however own the two OCs in the prologue…but their role is pretty trivial and they won't be popping up too much.

I Can't Believe It's Not…Spencer?


Aaron had found the perfect place; the warehouse on Clydedale Avenue was; old, abandoned, and private. Perfect for him and his girlfriend Tanya to get together without her parents knowing – now if only he could get Tanya to agree.

"This place is so gross!" Tanya argued, she truly hated it and it could be seen in the way she looked around.

The warehouse was empty, and in shambles it was completely hallow say for a few pillars, a couple ledges up in the rafters, and somewhere off in the back a dripping pipe could be heard.

Drip, drip, drip, drip,

"You can't tell me this place isn't gross." Tanya insisted. "Aaron I want to go home."

Aaron sighed. "Come on babe, its perfect. No one will ever know we come here – we can be alone all the time now, just like you wanted." Aaron leaned in to give his girl friend kiss.

"This is unsanitary." Tanya shook her head and dodged Aaron's lips. "Seriously, can't we just get a motel room or something?"

"What?" Aaron said. "No, I have no money after I lost my job."

"A year ago." Tanya huffed. "You haven't been looking for a new one since." It was clearly an issue between the two, and immediately Aaron went on the defensive.

"I have been looking!" Aaron insisted "I have been I swear! It's just so hard in this economy, no one is hiring."

It was an all out brawl then, and the two lovers were yelling at each other at the top of their lungs. They were so caught up in their trivial argument that they didn't notice the sound of something shifting up in the rafters.

"You're lazy Aaron!"

"I'm looking for a damn job! Alright, I'm sorry it's not good enough for you but I am dammit!"

"You're such a liar!" Tanya went on. "A lazy LIAR!" Tanya screamed the last part of her accusation, and finally the shifting sound in the rafters grew louder. A high pitched screeched sounded off followed by a loud SNAP, and something fell. Landing right on Aaron and knocking him over. Tanya's screamed words just turned into just a regular scream then – and she kept screaming.

Aaron saw stars – what the hell just fell on him? It was heavy, stiff, and wet. Aaron tried to push whatever it was off of him, but it was taking more effort than he thought it would and Tanya's screaming wasn't helping. "Stop!" Aaron insisted "Tanya stop screaming!" Aaron gave a grunt, followed by a 'eeerrraarg' sound as he finally managed to lift the weight off of him. Finally able to move, Aaron turned and finally saw what Tanya was seeing. The body was male, and covered in blood, blood that was still fresh, blood that was now stained into Aaron's clothing. Aaron realized this and like Tanya he screamed. The screaming eventually led into silent shock, and finally Aaron mustered enough common sense to call the police.

End Prologue

Chpt 1: Totally Dead

The SBPD were on scene immediately, the warehouse was closed off with police tape, and uniforms were scattered. Some uniforms were collecting evidence, some were holding a perimeter forbidding civilians to try and take a peek…As for the body? It was where Aaron had left it and covered with a sheet, other than adding the sheet -the police were avoiding it like the plague. It was undeniable that a strange feel of uncertainty was in the air surrounding the scene.

"I don't understand why we were called to this." Detective Carlton Lassiter grumbled mostly to himself as he pulled up to the warehouse. His partner Juliet O'Hara was sitting beside him and could only offer a shrug.

"Why not?" Juliet insisted. "Not much has been happening lately, something was bound to come up sooner or later."

Lassiter didn't seem to agree, but none the less he grabbed the necessary tools and exited his cruiser with O'Hara close on his heels. "Clayton!" Lassiter called over the first officer he recognized. "What's the story?"

Normally when asking the story, the explanation expected was formal. 'Victim was shot three times in the chest, male, 21, Caucasian.' – That's the type of explanation Lassiter was going for, so when Officer Clayton fumbled on his words and sounded almost like he might cry Lassiter and O'Hara exchanged confused looks.

"Stabbed – throat, we don't know…." Those were the only words Clayton could mumble. Police usually acted like this when the victim was a team member.

"One of our guys?" Juliet asked quietly. Lassiter didn't know. Lassiter decided then to seek out the body to see for himself.

"Let's get this over with." Lassiter insisted. "If it is one of our guys I want their families contacted immediately."

Upon stepping into the warehouse, Lassiter immediately saw McNabb who was standing by. He wasn't standing too close and Lassiter could see why, McNabb was barely holding it together.

"McNabb?" Juliet's voice was soft when she went over to officer. "Oh god it is one of our guys isn't it?" Juliet looked more worried then. "Who – when?" Only McNabb couldn't answer her. This left Lassiter with the task of moving over to the body and lifting the white sheet off of it.

Juliet turned to ask Lassiter who the victim was, she was expecting Lassiter to stand up and say Doyle, McLaren, or even Craveiro – none of these were the case.

Lassiter held the white sheet in his hand, and didn't notice that he was clutching onto it to the point his knuckles were white. Blood – there was so much blood….even the sheet was stained…Lassiter couldn't speak, he could only look down at Shawn Spencer's lifeless form.

"No…." Lassiter didn't know what was happening to him, his chest was clenching and his heat rate slowed considerably. He could vaguely hear O'Hara come up behind him and share in her own despair.

"Oh god Shawn…."

"Get the camera." Lassiter managed to get out. He dropped the sheet, but still shaking he finally stood. He turned to face Juliet who was still awestruck. "The camera!" Lassiter yelled. He didn't mean to yell but that's how it came out, Juliet did not look pleased. Lassiter wasn't trying to sound insensitive he was just trying to stay calm, and it didn't help that he could feel all his logic start to chip away, and Lassiter was sloppily trying to put it back together.

Spencer was dead, that was it. No big deal. Spencer had a habit of getting into trouble, and Lassiter always knew that someday he wouldn't get out of it.

Knew or feared?

Lassiter didn't appreciate his conscience trying to argue with him, Spencer was careless – he was always careless. It was his own damn fault. Lassiter took a long breathe – yes he was calm now, he could do this. Detective Carlton Lassiter was more than capable of investigating the murder of Shawn Spencer. To prove it to himself, Lassiter quickly took the camera out of O'Hara's shaking hands when she finally returned and stepping over to Spencer's body was the first to snap a picture. The flash illuminated Spencer's face and Lassiter could see that the psychic's eyes were still open. Open and scared. Lassiter could see it clearly in his head then, Shawn – maybe running, or maybe cornered -looking up at his killer and about to plea just as the knife came down to his neck.

The image was so clear in the detective's mind that Lassiter lowered the camera, and promptly removed himself from the scene where he could become ill- violently. Another long breathe and Lassiter had to blink back the tears that threatened to follow his regurgitation, god help him he couldn't do this. "O Hara!" He hollered, he had to try to regain some composure, "Take more pictures, I'll do the rest." By the rest he meant calling the family.

"Henry Spencer." Henry answered his phone sounding distracted, and Lassiter could hear the faint sound of something sizzling in the background Henry was cooking.

"Detective Lassiter." Lassiter said then, and he braced himself.

"Carlton." Henry greeted, "What's he done now? You know what don't tell me, just give him the phone and I'll be more than happy to yell at him for you."

"Uh…" Oh god Lassiter couldn't get the words out. "He hasn't done…anything…Mr. Spencer…"

"When have you ever called me Mr. Spencer?" Henry's tone changed and he knew something was wrong. "Carlton?" Henry's voice was stern. "Carlton what's happening – where's my son?"

"There was a body found in an old Clydedale Avenue warehouse, it's…It is Shawn." Lassiter spilled it out in one quick ramble, though it wasn't quick enough that he had to repeat himself. Henry heard him loud and clear.

"Shut up." Henry said.

"I – it's the truth." Lassiter insisted. "I wouldn't lie about this…"

"Shut up!" Henry cut him off. "Shut up and do your job! Find out who, find out why, and do it now!"

"There's not a chance you're willing to help is there?" Lassiter had no idea why he was asking, but luckily Henry's response was to promptly hang up on the detective. Lassiter sighed – well Henry was certainly taking 'the call' pretty damn well now wasn't he? Lassiter in turn fought down another bout of sickness and began to dial for Gust.

Gus was coincidentally in the psych office when his phone started ringing, there was a strap over his shoulder and he was handling a plastic guitar like it was a real guitar, he was moving along with the music, getting really into it, and was hitting every colored button in perfect timing along with the song that was blaring from the office's television. For some reason Gus had a long purple scarf tied around his head but he didn't seem to mind as he was too busy playing the game. The word's of Motely Crue's Home Sweet Home being were being screeched out as they rolled across the top of the screen.


The game was paused and Gus was quick to answer his phone. "Detective Lassiter." Gus greeted immediately, and as it played out with Henry, Lassiter had trouble getting out the news. However Gus didn't respond the same way, instead Gus quirked a brow lowered the phone to his chest.

"Lassiter thinks you're dead."

"But I'm right here." Shawn Spencer looked to the cell phone clutched in Gus' hand and motioned for Gus to hand it to him. Gus obliged and Shawn dropped the game mic and held the phone to his ear.

"Lassie, are you screwing with us? Because I have to say if that's your idea of a practical joke I am greatly ashamed of you! What are you thinking? I mean you could've at least made sure I wasn't sitting right next to Gus before you called him. I demand to know who put you up to this? Who Lassie? Are you having lunch with Carrot Top again? What did I tell you about fraternizing with outdated comedians?"

"I…." Lassiter didn't sound too good. Shawn caught onto this but didn't think too much of it.

"No excuses." Shawn went on. "You're grounded Lassie. Now go to your room." Shawn kept a perfectly straight face, but the comedic effect was lost when instead of retaliating with something snappy and cruel Lassiter just hung up.

"It's not him!" Lassiter called out after he put his phone away, and like magic the detective was back on top of his game. He turned to O'Hara who looked so damn happy to hear that. "I just got him on the phone, he's fine now O'Hara hand me those gloves." The relief that Shawn wasn't dead had Lassiter feeling…..He honestly didn't know, happy? Ecstatic? Ineffable was the word he ended on and decided to think about it later.

"Right away!" Juliet never sounded so happy to be examining a dead body. Lassiter wouldn't say anything on that matter because truthfully he was still a little uncomfortable, how could two people look so much alike? Lassiter shook his head and set to work. Shawn Spencer wasn't dead. Lassiter's world was back to normal.

Thank god!

"Huh…" Shawn passed the phone back to Gus. "He must've really thought I was a dead man – cool." Of course it wasn't THAT cool, what could've possibly happened to have Lassiter think that? There was now also the issue of Lassiter being as good a cop as his reputation said he was, which gave Shawn no doubt his dad had been the first one called. It was an issue which that was hopefully easily fixed and ridden of.

Shawn grabbed for his own phone and dialed his dad's number – repeatedly. A good 4 tries and Shawn knew that his dad wasn't going to answer.

"Dammit." Shawn pouted. "Gus we have to go to my dad's."

"What if he's not home?" Gus said. "Then what?"

"No idea, but we're going – so let's turn off the game, and get going, drop your guitar, and…actually no keep the headband on." Shawn could only grin when Gus took the headband off anyway and followed Shawn out the door.

Henry was in a deep state of denial, his son was dead. No he wasn't. Shawn wasn't dead, not dead at all. Shawn was a lot of things; he was annoying, immature, and overly exuberant – but dead? Nope. He didn't need to answer his phone the next four times it rang because he knew it was Shawn calling him to ask something stupid. Something so stupid that Henry would happily refuse to give his son the satisfaction- not even a little.


Henry started to tear up then, oh god Shawn was dead and he could hear his voice. It was so clear. Why was this happening to him?


Oh god Shawn's voice was getting louder, Henry knew it, he was in such a deep state of shock that he was having a heart attack. Shawn was coming to take him to the other side Henry just knew it. Henry leaned back in his chair and squeezed his eyes shut.

Shawn came into the living room after he failed to find his dad in the kitchen and blinked at the site he found his dad in. Sitting perfectly still and clutching the armrest like he was waiting for something.

"Mr. Spencer?" Gus tried quietly.

"Gus?" Henry opened his eyes.

"Dad?" Shawn tried again. Henry blinked.



"Mr. Spencer?"


"Gus?" Shawn repeated.

"Shawn?" Gus answered.

"Shawn?" Henry repeated.


"Mr. Spencer?"

…This went on for at least another minute before Shawn didn't think it was funny anymore.

"OKAY!" Shawn raised both of his hands into the air to stop the name train. "We're done it's over! No more! Finito! Europe's Final Countdown is over and not to be heard again this year!...Alright. Dad."

Henry was up, and before Shawn knew what was happening, Henry was hugging his son until it hurt.

Gus awkwardly scratched the back of his head, and pretended to be interested in something else.

"You're hurting me…." Shawn squeaked out. Henry's only response was to loosen his grip just slightly but he didn't let Shawn go.

"You're not dead." Henry sounded so SO happy. "Carlton was wrong…"

"Very wrong." Shawn happily added. Henry then let Shawn go as his relief turned into anger.

"Carlton was wrong! That son of a bitch called me before he got a proper I.D on his body! How the hell do you miss a step like that! ? If I was his superior I'd be firing his ass right now!"

Shawn on behalf of Lassiter who could not at that moment defend himself, just changed the subject. "Dead body?" Shawn repeated. "As in – dead in not a natural way? There's a case?" Shawn looked like he was getting excited and turned to Gus. "Gus there's a case!"

"We weren't called." Gus said. "We're normally called, let's just skip this one – it doesn't sound like a fun one." Honestly though, Gus put two and two together on his own, he wasn't exactly keen on looking at a dead body who looked like his friend. Not that Shawn really understood that. Shawn was too busy hopping up and down on one foot.

"Case – there's a case, aw man and we're sitting here wasting time with my dad's house. We suck Gus, we gotta go – like now." Shawn turned to his dad. "Dad we have to go."

Henry was still fuming at Lassiter's lack of protocol. "What? Go? You're leaving?"

"Yeah – leaving." Shawn piped. "To get us a case!" Shawn was half way out the door. "Gus you coming?"

"I guess so." Gus digressed, he supposed if the body wasn't actually Shawn then he'd be okay and he again followed Shawn out the door.

"Bye dad!" Shawn quipped, but before he and Gus got too far from Henry's house Shawn turned around and popped his head back into the door. "Hey dad quick question-who's got two thumbs, and is totally not dead?" Shawn gave it a second before he gestured to himself with both of his thumbs. "This guy!"