Hello guys! So I decided to start the new year with a new fic. This one taking me out of my usual element, but I hope to have fun writing none-the-less.

This is a Shassie/Sharlton/Spenton fic… I've heard it all three ways, but preffer shassie. Sounds like a sexy plant, lol.

Summary: When Shawn brings down a mass-murdering rapist, he stays at Lassiter's to get it off the brain. But with the memories of the investigation haunting him, he finds himself seeking solace in the detectives company. Shassie-goodness

Disclaimer: I don't own Psych or anything associated with the show. If I did most of the actors would probably run in fear from my plotlines.

Hope you enjoy!

Lassiter was confused. He was sitting down in his office, and the whole week was quiet with nothing but papers and investigations as usual. He had the whole police force working at a hundred-ten percent, and everything was going as a perfect workday should go.

Most of all, there were no midday shenanigans from two particular private investigators who liked to show up in his department and have wheelie-chair races down his halls and spasm all over his desk. Well, one would spasm all over his desk, while the other would shout some nonsense that his 'partner' was channeling some paperweight that had a message from the astral plane. All was quiet and for once in his life, Lassiter felt that he should be sitting back in his chair, at peace.

What was confusing the detective is that he wasn't relaxing. In fact, he felt a bit on edge that the blundering duo, or more that a certain Shawn Spencer, had not shown up in the past three days. He realized they were probably working a case, but something was irking him, and the detective didn't like it.

A week and a half ago Spencer and Gus had shown up at the firm talking to his partner Juliet, and when Lassiter asked what the two dunderheads were doing in the department, Spencer had turned to him with a cheeky grin saying that he'd have a case solved for the cops, one so big that it was going to bring the whole police force to their knees, kissing his feet.

Lassiter had brushed off the two and kicked them out, Spencer's last words to the annoyed detective being that he'd have the crime solved in a week tops, but most likely half the time so that "Lassie-face can be the first one to stare in awe at his brilliant brilliant-ness." Which Lassiter was sure was not a word.

That had been a week and three days ago and for some reason he kept glancing to the doors leading into his office, a small sliver of him wanting to see the gloating not-psychic walk through his door and make a fool of himself telling the police where the culprit was.

Am I seriously dwelling on this? Something must be wrong with me if I'm actually missing the torture those two give me on a daily basis. Lassiter thought to himself as he weighed his thoughts, wondering if he was starting to develop masochistic tendencies.

Still, the detective waved it off, and buried himself in casework. If there was one thing Lassiter had it was pride, and there was no way in hell he was going to pop down to their office to see if the two idiots were okay. If he did and they were fine he'd never hear the end of it, and he meant never.

Juliet looked up from her desk, noticing her partner was lost in thought for the fifth time this hour alone before sighing, "You're worried about them, aren't you." she said with a knowing smile.

Lassiter broke out of his daze and scoffed, "You know I'm not. Despite the fact that they've got a few screws loose, I'm sure they're fine. As much as I hate to admit it, Spencer's got the tenacity of a cockroach. " the head detective said with an annoyed tone before glaring at his paperwork.

Juliet let her smile widen as she crossed her arms, leaning back in her chair "I see… You're worried about Shawn then?" She asked with a cheeky grin.

Lassiter stared at Juliet with a look that screamed 'that logic does not even begin to compute' before feeling a slight twinge of annoyance in the back of his head, "O'Hara, I don't think you should call a consultant of this police department by first name." Lassiter said quietly.

Juliet pursed her lips and coughed, straightening her posture. "I meant… Detective Spencer… You're slightly concerned about his case?" She corrected herself quickly with a small sigh.

Lassiter looked at his partner and opened his mouth, before quickly closing it and opting to flip through his papers. "Maybe a little bit. Don't worry too much about it O'Hara." Lassiter said curtly.

Juliet nodded and went back to her work, deciding to leave the subject be.

When he noticed that Juliet was no longer looking at him, Lassiter let a small exhale leave his lips. Juliet and Shawn had gotten married, the marriage not lasting very long at all, and the whole department, Lassiter included; was shocked that the two didn't stay a perfect match.

Shawn and Juliet had a falling out a few months back, neither willing to talk about or disclose the subject of their separation, and they had spent a lot of time apart. As time passed they overcame their fight and decided to stay friends. In the beginning, Lassiter had been livid at Shawn for the grief he had caused O'Hara, and even though things had cooled down, he still didn't like his partner speaking about Shawn unless it had to do with casework.

Lassiter leaned back in his seat I shouldn't be dwelling on this. They've made their peace, and now Spencer, Guster and O'Hara are the closest of friends I've ever seen. The detective thought to himself, recalling that the three were nigh inseparable most of the time

Remembering this fact, Lassiter looked up and raised a brow, "Wait, you haven't been spending any of your lunch breaks with Guster or Spencer… You always go and see them nowadays, so why the sudden change?" The head detective asked with a curious gaze.

Juliet looked down like a kicked puppy before sighing. "Spencer asked that I leave him alone till he solved this case. He's worried I'll tip you off and you'll be on it 'like Scooby on Scooby-snacks'. Because I don't know when they're working on the case I've just been doing my work and going home, waiting for them to call me and tell me it's okay to hang out over there again." She said with a slightly sad and worried look.

Lassiter noted this and raised his hands up, "Like I said O'Hara, there's probably nothing wrong. The two are probably just being lazy because they don't have to worry about one up-ing the police force and being quick to the chase."

Juliet smiled at her partner's words, "Yeah, you're right. I'm sure they're fi-"

"Lassiter, I need to talk to you."

The two chatting detectives looked up to see a calm, but slightly distraught looking Burton Guster. He looked between the two detectives and let a small, nervous smile play on his lips, "Long time no see detectives, how are you doing today?" Gus said nervously, obviously trying to hide his uneasiness.

Lassiter raised a brow at this before leaning back and crossing his arms, "What, no Spencer today? And here I was ready to see him cluck like a chicken, or pretend to be channeling a dead Broadway star."

Gus opened his mouth, before closing it, looking to Juliet with an apologetic gaze. "Jules, I'm sorry but I gotta speak to Lassiter alone, Shaun's orders." Gus said curtly.

Juliet looked at Gus with a surprised look, "Since when are you listening to Spencer's orders?" She said with a disbelieving tone, a flash of worry crossing her eyes.

Gus's eyes narrowed, "Exactly. Now this is important, please let me talk to him." Gus said, a bit of urgency in his voice.

Juliet raised her hands in defense and got up, pursing her lips as she walked past her good friend. She sensed something was amiss, and grabbed Gus's shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly as she left her office.

At this point, Lassiter's curiosity peaked a bit. "Alright Guster, why are you in my office, and where's Spencer?" The head detective asked in a questioning tone.

Gus didn't say anything, instead he held out his hand, which had a blank, unopened envelope in it.

Lassiter raised a brow and took the envelope, inspecting it before looking up curiously, "what's this?"

Gus crossed his arms and looked down with a worried look. "Shawn gave me that envelope four days ago, and told me he was gonna do the rest of this case solo. He told me that if he didn't come back by today, to give this envelope to you." Gus pursed his lips, his eyes boring holes in the floor, "He… He told me not to open it, and when I gave it to you to let you handle it, and to make sure Juliet didn't know about it…" Gus finished, looking like a worried mother who had lost one of her kids.

Lassiter took a good hard look at the envelope, before leaning over and grabbing a letter opener from his desk, opening the letter, pulling out a folded piece of paper. Taking note that Spencer's handwriting was scrawled urgently, Lassiter moved to read the letter, his eyes skimming the pages with calculated indifference.

Hey Lassie,

I don't wanna be the bearer of bad news, but if you're reading this then that means I've been a bit sloppy, and am either dead or captured. Hopefully I'm captured because I'd kinda hate these to be my last words, no offense. Anyway, this case started out as just a missing person job, but I've tracked the culprit down, and I think he's responsible for a load of missing persons, whom he's taken and turned into rape and murder victims… okay scratch that maybe if you're reading this I'm not too keen on the still being alive thing. Anyway I've already solved the case. This guy's name is Norman Blake, he lives out in the middle of nowhere by Lake Victoria in his cabin. He inherited a field from his dead father a few miles away from his house, and has turned it into a corn field. He goes into town to buy fertilizer and other stuff, and tends to the land himself. When he goes into town, he picks people up, takes them to his cabin, does what he does, and then dumps the body in a large heap of fertilizer and buries it deep under the cornfield, before growing a layer of corn on top of the bodies. Talk to Gus and tell him to take Jules and a bunch of squad cars out there with a warrant to dig up that land and I bet you you'll find the bodies of over twenty missing people over the past two decades. What I need you to do; Lassie is come over to the cabin and cuff the guy. I need you to come alone, he's really, REALLY good at what he does, and if you don't come with the element of surprise then I think he'll shoot us both, or die trying. He's got a few screws loose that way. Please don't tell Gus or Jules about this, because if they think I'm in trouble and that it's not part of some genius plan of mine they'll worry and do something stupid. I know that if you come over here and help me, that you'll do the right thing, and what's best for everyone. I hope I'm not dead, but if I am tell dad that I'm sorry I didn't make it to the bar for that rematch in pool. Also tell Gus that I'm sorry for eating the last of his Captain Crunch… And yes, it was me who was drinking milk out of the carton, and not the stray ninja boy-dog who isn't a boy. Hope to see you soon, and don't worry we got this!



Lassiter's hands shook as he looked at the letter, "That idiot…" the head detective mumbled.

Gus raised a brow, "He's okay right? Please tell me he's got this." Gus asked, not liking the face the head detective was making.

Lassiter looked up with his signature scowl, "Oh he's got this case alright." He said quickly as he grabbed his coat and swung it on before stuffing the letter in his desk. "Do you know the exact address to this corn field and Blake's house?" The head detective asked as he walked briskly toward Vick's office.

Gus scratched the back of his head "W-well yeah… Shawn went- I mean divined the addresses to both and everything." Gus said as he scratched the back of his head, laughing nervously at his almost slip-up.

Lassiter sighed, "Then you're coming with me." He said as he grabbed the man's arm and tugged him along, heading straight for Vick's office.

Miss Karen Vick had to say she was more than a little surprised when Lassiter came barging into her room with Gus' arm gripped like a vice, the detective looking like someone had just told him his mother got hit by a car. The chief leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms, "What is it Lassiter? Make it quick I've got a few new cases I need to be reviewing." She said in a curious, but slightly impatient voice.

Lassiter sat Gus down in the nearby chair and crossed his arms. "Spencer's team found a location that they say has missing persons buried under it. I need Juliet, Guster, McNab, and a back-up unit to go to this location with a warrant and start digging." He said with a dead serious gaze.

Vick raised an eyebrow, "Well now, this is surprising… Detective, if this is true then shouldn't you accompany this team? If you went with them you'd get credit for this find…" Her arms uncrossed and she leaned forward, "…Where's Spencer in all this, hmm?" She asked curiously, noting that it was only Gus that was in the room.

Lassiter's face fell slightly, before he put that blank slate back into place, "Spencer asked for my assistance on another matter. Seeing as it's his case and not ours, I figured it would be best to follow his orders for once."

Vick noticed her head detective's gaze and contemplated making the detective say what was wrong, but decided against it when she saw Gus fidgeting and looking about in worry. Vick looked over to Gus, "You know where this location is Guster?" She asked quietly. Gus nodded, and the woman looked long and hard at Lassiter before sighing in defeat, "Just… don't do anything rash, detective. You have my trust." She said before waving him off and getting up, walking out of her office so she could mobilize her men.

Gus got up and grabbed a notepad from his pocket. He scribbled something down quickly and ripped the paper, raising his hand to give it to Lassiter, "This is the address to the cabin. I didn't read the letter, but I know that's probably where Shawn is." Gus said quickly.

Lassiter reached out to grab the paper, before getting tugged close by the younger male, "You bring him back safe you hear me? I don't know if this is all part of some stupid plan, or if he's caught, or whatever. I just wanna see him okay…" Gus said quietly, his voice wavering a bit.

Lassiter looked long and hard at Gus, and he knew that the right thing to do, the professional thing to do, was to tell him he couldn't make any promises. But when he thought about finding Spencer dead in that house, or already buried he couldn't wrap his mind around it. He knew that it was a possibility, but for some reason every fiber of his being was telling him not to believe it, that he'd be okay and if not, Lassiter would make sure he was okay.

Lassiter felt a smirk shine on his face "I give you my word, I'll drag Spencer's ass back here and sock him for you. He'll have a shiner for a few days, but he'll be fine, I promise." The detective said with the utmost confidence.

Gus smiled and nodded, before turning to join the group of growing police officers, wanting to help out as much as he could.

And so the plan was put into motion, Vick went with Juliet, McNab and Guster along with a group of other police officers to dig around the field, and Lassiter was in his police car heading toward the cabin's location. The plan was for group A to have the evidence, and for Lassiter to go and 'aid' Shawn in apprehending the culprit.

As Lassiter drove, he tried to keep calm, but he knew that no matter what was happening Shawn was in a lot of trouble, which is why he was thirty miles over the speed limit in a little area just outside Santa Barbara, just a few street turns away from the house address that Gus had given him.

Lassiter parked a ways down the dirt road, and hoofed it to the cabin, which was well hidden in a large brush of trees and other flora. When he laid eyes on the dilapidated wooden structure, he had a hunch that he shouldn't walk in through the front door, opting instead to circle the house as quietly as possible.

When Lassiter reached the backyard, he took note that there was a cellar door, next to it a small window looking into the lower structure of the house. Peering in, he saw nothing but darkness, which he assumed meant that the culprit wasn't in his cellar.

Lassiter sighed, "Dammit Spencer, you better be here." The detective said as he contemplated his next move. Pulling out a mini flashlight from his back pocket, Lassiter shone the light into the window, trying to get a better look at the inside of said cellar. After shining the light on a few structures, the detective caught something in the corner of the room. Squinting to get a closer look, the detective felt anger bubble in his chest when he registered what the light had caught.

Shawn was kneeling in the corner of the room, limp and unconscious. His hands were cuffed high above his head against a plumbing pipe, the cuts on his wrists from the metal digging into his skin implying he had been there for at least two days. The psychic's shirt had been torn open, and bruises were forming on his torso. Lassiter took note that there were no cuts, but dried blood could be seen out of the corner of his nose and mouth, so the detective could assume that he had taken quite a beating.

Knowing Blake could come back any minute, Lassiter turned to a large cellar door, which was locked shut with a padlock. The detective pulled out a pistol, I knew checking out that silencer pistol for my collection was a good Idea Lassiter thought to himself as he pressed the pistol to the lock and shot it, the piece of metal giving a muffled clink as it was forced open.

The detective gently pulled the chains off, and pulled the door open, quietly slinking inside and closing the door as softly as he could. He turned on the flashlight and rushed toward Shawn, lifting the psychic's head up and trying to gently shake him awake. "Spencer, Spencer wake up!" Lassiter hissed, slapping the psychic's face a bit.

Shawn stirred, and his eyes slowly slid open. Lassiter breathed a sigh of relief, "Spencer you have no idea how much I want to punch you right now-" Lassiter stopped talking when he felt Shawn start to shake, the younger man trying to put some distance between them, crying out slightly from the cuffs digging into his wrists as he did so. Lassiter saw this and grabbed Shawn gently, pulling him back to where he was and shushing him, "It's okay… Shawn it's me, Carlton." Lassiter whispered.

Shawn's shaking slowed a bit, and he looked up, his eyes not focusing too well as he stared at the other man in confusion. After a couple of seconds, the confusion in Shawn's eyes was replaced with disbelief, "L-Lassiter… Lassie, it's you?" Shawn asked like he was seeing a ghost.

Lassiter nodded and held the younger male close as he looked him over "Yeah it's me, listen we need to get you out of here. Judging from your shaking I'd say you're suffering from some sort of psychological trauma." Lassiter said as he inspected the cuffs binding the younger male.

Shawn shook his head and pressed his forehead into the elder male's chest, a small un-Spencer-like giggle passing the psychic's lips "N-nah… from the high most likely lassie-lemon head…" Shawn said quietly as he let out a slow, shaky exhale.

Lassiter opened his mouth to speak, but quickly closed it when he noticed that not only did Spencer have the shakes, but he was also having difficulty breathing and keeping his eyes open. Pulling up his flashlight, he also noted a delay in Shawn's pupil dilation, which was not a good sign.

The detective was about to ask what was wrong, when he heard the door leading up the stairs open, and the safety of a gun click off.

"Well now. I thought that no one'd come lookin' for you seeing as it's been three days and no one's come poking around here; seems like I'm a tad mistaken." A gruff voice said from the top of the stairs.

Lassiter turned and saw a large burley man with a goatee and long hair tied in a ponytail. He was wearing a T-shirt and shorts. Flip-flops clacked on his feet as he walked down the stairs with a smirk, a pistol pointed at the head detective.

The gruff man let a toothy grin rise on his face as he looked the detective over, "You're not really my type, but now that you've seen this pretty little thing here, I can't let you run off telling on me. Bad for picking my product if they all know my kinks" He said haughtily, training the gun on the detective.

Lassiter sneered, "You're Norman Blake aren't you? I'm from the Santa Barbara police department, and you sir, are making a big mistake by pointing a gun at me." The detective warned.

Blake laughed, "Oh really? Well now, you're here without backup, I'm here with my little hostage, and you have a gun pointed at your head. I think that you sir, are the one who's making a mistake by yapping your mouth." The culprit said with a bemused grin.

Shawn felt dread pool in his eyes when he saw his captor stalk close to Lassiter, cocking the gun and looking ready to fire. "N-No!" Spencer cried weakly, tugging in vain against the cuffs that were binding him.

Blake looked the faux psychic over with a sly smirk, "Oh? What'll you do to keep me from blowing mister big-shot's brains out in return? I don't offer kindness for free you know." The man said with a smile.

Shawn took a moment to process this information, before he pursed his lips and let his head sink down in defeat, "I'll… do what you want with me… just let him go…"

Blake raised a brow, his smirk widening all the more at the news, "Oh? So after three days of holding out on me you'll finally let me have my prize if I let this hot shot detective go will you?" The man said with a laugh, as if it was the funniest thing he had heard in his life.

Shawn didn't raise his head, but a small nod was given, his body shaking as he began to breathe uneasily.

Blake looked like a cat that just ate a canary, and turned to Lassiter, taking the detective's gun before grabbing some rope from the corner and tying him up. "Well isn't this my lucky day? I don't think I could've cracked this one very easy if it wasn't for you detective, for that you have my thanks." Blake said as he finished tying the sloppy knot.

Lassiter looked up with steely smoldering eyes, "What do you mean, you cheeky bastard?" the detective seethed, his blood boiling as his gun was taken from him and he was stuck in the corner tied like a Christmas ham.

Blake just straightened up and sauntered over to Shawn, kneeling down and stroking his cheek with a sick affection, "You see… I like lovin' on pretty things, but it's so hard to get them to want you back you know?" the culprit said as he traced his hand down the younger male's jawline "Sometimes a little persuasion is in order so that they want it as much as I do… I offered to let this one leave the cabin if he let me show him a good time, he said no. So I stopped feeding him and giving him water, after a day still no. So then, I started dosing him a little at a time with some homemade GHB, you know a bit of Georgia Home Boy? I was trying to get him to come around…" Norman's face turned grim and he slapped Shawn hard in the face, the captive letting out a hiss of pain as his head snapped to the side, "And still, NO." Norman finished.

Lassiter's eyes narrowed, "GHB? You idiot you could kill him with that in high doses! No wonder he's nearly unconscious, he could go into a coma!" Lassiter said as he felt himself reeling in anger at the man in front of him, wanting nothing more than to sock the cheeky man in the face.

Blake brushed off his words and smiled, "This little golden heart didn't want me at all till you came in, now I'm sure he'll be begging me to do all sorts of things to him to keep you alive…" The man said as he greedily nipped at Shawn's collarbone, eliciting a hitched breath of displeasure from the psychic.

Shawn looked from his captive to Lassiter, then back to Norman before letting out a shaky breath, and giving a snarky grin. "That man that you have tied up there… He's a total hard ass." Shawn said with a slight slur in his voice before looking up and gazing warmly at the detective "But I know that that man would sooner take a bullet then let anything bad happen to me or anyone else…" Shawn said quietly, before glaring weakly up at his captive, "So do you're worst pudgy. I doubt I got all night." Shawn spat.

Norman's smirk widened, "Well then, I'll do that just for you Mister Spencer; don't mind if I help myself." The man said as he leaned forward and brushed his fingers down his prize.

Lassiter sat and watched as Spencer was touched, a knot forming in the pit of his stomach when the criminal teased the young male's hair gently before harshly pulling it and biting on his neck. This made Lassiter squirm. He knew he could get out of the ropes no problem, but Norman would notice, and he'd probably shoot them both. Lassiter was at a loss for action, and no matter how much he wanted to help the man in front of him escape the sexual abuse he was about to face he knew it would only make things worse.

Shawn bit his bottom lip and looked away, anywhere but the man in front of him. Having nothing else to look at he looked at Lassiter, who looked like his world was shutting down. Poor Lassie, you can't do anything for me man. Salt and Pepper's gonna have to sit this one out. Shawn thought as he kept his eyes trained on the detective.

The head detective locked eyes with Shawn's, an "I'm sorry" mouthing through the detective's lips. Lassiter couldn't help but feel truly sorry for being completely useless and unable to save the other from the trauma he was about to face. If only I had done something different, planned this out better…

It was then that Shawn did something that made Lassiter raise an eyebrow.

Shawn smirked, and gave a cheeky wink.

Spencer then pretended to arch harshly into the man's touch, his back slamming into the pipe he was cuffed to. The pipe gave way and separated from another pipe above him, causing the pipe attached to the ceiling to fall and land straight on Norman's head, knocking the lewd man out. Shawn grimaced when the man fell forward on his chest, the psychic detective letting out a faint "eww" sound before shrugging and letting the man fall off him to the side.

Lassiter looked at the scene for a few seconds, before squirming in the ropes that had him tied, and letting them fall down past his arms before running up to Shawn, shock on his face.

Shawn stared at Lassiter for a few seconds, a shit-eating grin on his face as he let a laugh out that sounded almost hysterical, "Y-You should see your face right nowwww" Shawn said as he lolled his head back, the psychic obviously not having any control over his motor function at the moment.

The detective bit his bottom lip in worry and grabbed his gun off the floor, shooting the chain connecting the cuffs on Shawn's wrists, and catching the psychic as he fell to the floor in exhaustion from being held up so long. The detective cradled Shawn gently as he inspected the other man's wounds. "H-how did you know that would happen?" Lassiter breathed in slight shock, still not quite believing what he just saw.

Shawn gave a weak chuckle, "Please, I've been in this hole for…uhh… two days?" Shawn questioned as he looked up in a thoughtful stupor

Lassiter pursed his lips "Three and a half, give or take ten hours" The head detective corrected.

Shawn let his head roll back to rest on the older man's shoulder, "yeah… whatever, anyway I've had more than enough time to chi the… psycho…analyze…" the psychic let out a long, shaky sigh, "I noticed rust on the pipe, he always leans down in the same spot.. Could've done this anytime but… probably wouldn't have gotten very far seeing as I know m'high off my ass… on something."

"Obviously." Lassiter said curtly.

Shawn looked up, a shine of pride in his eyes, "So I was waiting for Gus… to send that letter so I'd have someone who could bag him…"

Lassiter gave a good hard glare at the unconscious man before setting Shawn down gently on the floor, grabbing the cuffs from his back pocket and slapping them on the culprit's wrists. "You stay right there Spencer. You need medical attention." Lassiter said with a voice that was laced with authority, the head detective trying to keep the worry from seeping through.

Shawn gave a small smile and rolled haphazardly onto his back, "I don't think I could go anywhere if I tried lassie dog... doodle…" The psychic said with slightly slurred speech, his eyes squinting as he tried to keep the ceiling from moving.

Lassiter gave a quick nod, and hoisted his criminal up, carrying him over his shoulder to a chair and tying the man so he was secure, setting the chair near the pipework and tying the legs and back to them so he couldn't wobble free.

Shawn raised a brow and attempted to sit up, this attempt failing horribly as the ground pushed up to meet his face, "w-wait, why're we not headed to your car to get this dude to the cop-station…thingy?" The psychic said as he attempted to get up by pressing his forehead to the ground and shoving his butt in the air.

Lassiter rolled his eyes, "Cop-Station thingy? Really Spencer? You're that gone?" the detective asked as he double checked the knots to make sure they were secure.

Shawn groaned in frustration, drooling slightly into the ground with a thoughtful expression. "What 'mean to say is… waiting… uhh… Why are we here? And not with the chief… and Gus and Jules… and McNab… I really miss McNab..." Shawn stated as he managed to get up into a kneeling position, swaying slightly left and right.

Lassiter noticed Shawn's swaying and sighed, walking to the not-so-lucid psychic before leaning down and placing his hands on Shawn's shoulders as he looked over his symptoms, "I ditched my car down the road and hoofed it here for that surprise attack you said I needed. I can't carry you both to my car, so I'm just going to have to wait here for back-up… or find a phone…" Lassiter finished as he took in Spencer's half asleep look, his unfocused eyes, and his pale complexion.

Shawn's eyes shifted slightly, as if he was thinking on something, "His phones in his jacket pocket the date is one…nine…nine…two…" Shawn slowly leaned forward before catching himself.

"No. The date is 2012. Good lord screw gone, you're non-existent."

"Sorry, phone password is 1992, first kill. I'm sure of it."

Lassiter raised his eyes in surprise, "How do you know that?"

Shawn rolled his eyes. "indention in's pocket, never takes jacket off, talking on his cell earlier yesterday, when he unlocked his phone I heard four clicks, he's always talking about his first kill…" Spencer finished before leaning back and falling to the floor, the psychic staring at the ceiling like it was the most interesting thing in the world.

Lassiter sighed before getting up and walking to Blake, fishing a phone out of the man's pocket. Lassiter clicked in the password, a bit of surprise showing on his face when it worked. "Alright Spencer, I'm going to call for backup, and an ambulance for you-"

Shawn jerked up at that news and flew forward, gripping onto the head detective's pants, "No. No ambulance okay? Ambulance bad. Ambulance VERY bad." Shawn breathed out, his face looking like he just got caught eating out of a cookie jar.

Lassiter sighed in slight annoyance, "And why not? You're barely lucid, you've been pumped with lord knows how much GHP over these past few days meaning you could go into a coma and die any second, you've got bruises all over your torso, and… did he hit you with a tire-iron or something? Because you've got one hell of a shiner on your forehead." Lassiter pointed out.

"Nah, jus' a love taps."

"Please don't refer to him socking you in the face as a 'love tap'. "

Shawn shook his head, "No amber-lamps. Gus and Jules… and my dad they're worried…" The psychic leaned in, resting his forehead on Lassiter's leg. "Need them to think this' all a part of my plan… So they don't worry 'bou me when this… doohickey happens…" Shawn looked up, swaying dangerously toward the ground before catching himself, "I know you don't give a rat's ass about me, and probably don't care, and I know s'goes against protocol but please let them think I'm alright-"

Lassiter leaned down and smacked the back of Shawn's head

Shawn let out a girly whine "Oooow… Lassifrass what was that for?"

Lassiter kneeled down and grabbed Shawn roughly by the shoulders and stared straight into his eyes, "Now you listen here Shawn. I came here following your orders and almost had to watch you get helplessly…" Lassiter hesitated, looking down with guilt in his eyes. "…Sexually assaulted. Now you are hurt, you've been pumped full of drugs and I'll be damned if I sit here and watch you try and walk all this off, because no matter how much of an annoying little prick you can be you're still-" Lassiter caught himself, pursing his lips and letting his hands drop. "You're still… A colleague that has worked with me for years… and despite what you think about how I feel I don't like seeing you hurt or in situations like that…" Lassiter finished, looking away and feeling himself putting distance between him and the man in front of him.

Shawn looked long and hard at the detective in front of him, "Lassie is… are you trying to say that you care about me?" Shawn asked as a sickly sweet smirk rose to his face.

Lassiter coughed and looked away, "Yeah well… I don't… not like you okay? I don't want to see you get screwed against your will or die from drug overdose. I'm not heartless you know…" The detective said with a genuine honesty in his voice.

Shawn stared at the detective for a few more moments, before a warm smile played on his lips, and he hugged the detective. The psychic felt Lassiter stiffen, but Shawn paid that no mind as he rested his chin on the other man's shoulder, "So you do care. Big ol' softie you are…" the psychic chirped.

Lassiter coughed and looked away, "You know I can't leave you here. If you don't want to go to the hospital you need supervision, and by someone who knows what they're doing in a situation like this." The detective said as he tried not to sound embarrassed at his situation.

Shawn looked at Lassiter for a few minutes, before a bright smile stretched across his face. "Hey, it's idea time. Why don't you take me home with you?" Shawn said with a slight laugh.

Lassiter scoffed and grabbed the other man's shoulders, pulling him off and looking at him with an un-amused look, "And why the hell would I do that?" He asked with a slate tone, obviously not willing to play at one of Shawn's games.

Shawn smiled, "You can patch me up damn fine, and know how to get junkies clean, so all I have to do is let you take care of me and I'll be peachy keen. That way Jules and Gus'll be chill, and I won't worry papa bear." Shawn said with a cheeky grin, like it was the best idea in the world.

Lassiter looked at him with a long hard look before shaking his head and getting up. "This is asinine, I'm calling an ambulance so you can get everything looked at, and I'm getting someone to book this asshole." Lassiter said as he began to phone the chief.

Shawn got up and swayed a bit harshly into Lassiter's chest, managing to grab the phone and smack it to the floor before the detective made the call.

Lassiter gave a warning look, but Shawn dismissed it, "Lassie, please. If you won't do it for me, do it for Jules… she worries about me more than ever now that we're separated and… she finds out I went alone on this one and got hurt she'll worry about me when I'm on these kinds of cases and you know it." Shawn said with a downtrodden tone. The psychic wrapped his arms around Lassiter and rested his head on the other man's chest, leaning in dangerously close like he was about to fall, "Do it for Jules… Your partner…"

Lassiter braced himself when Shawn leaned fully into him, the detective grabbing around the psychic's waist so the man wouldn't fall "Sha-…Spencer, what the hell are you doing?" the detective asked in a slightly embarrassed tone as he looked up and away from the man who was clinging to him like a parasite.

Shawn let out a content sigh and snuggled into the older man, "Mmmh… you're really warm y'sour lemon you…" Shawn said quietly, a smile playing on his lips.

Lassiter felt a warm fuzzy feeling pool in the pit of his stomach, but ignored it, playing it off as him being sympathetic to the pathetic psychic's situation. "Fine, I'll call for a car to arrest this man and tell them you've requested to stay with me for a day or two to brief me on the report. Don't think for a second that this is for you; I'm only doing this for Detective O'Hara. Her worry is wasted on you enough as it is." Lassiter said as he took the phone back and dialed the chief again, explaining the situation.

Shawn smiled into the other man's chest, feeling content as he heard Lassiter's heartbeat. Shawn could barely make out what the man was saying, but all he knew is he felt warm, and protected, and safe. Shawn spent a lot of time hanging by a thread in this basement, hoping upon hope that any second Lassie would come busting in guns blazing to rescue him. Feeling safe and protected was something Shawn never considered up to this point, but now, as he hugged the elder man's neck and sat listening to that heartbeat, he could say with confidence that this feeling of utter security was something he wouldn't trade for the world; because for a small while, though he'd never admit it, Shawn had started to give up hope of anyone coming to save him and that he would die alone, and despite how cool he acted on the outside that thought scared him more than anything.

"M'glad you came after all…" Shawn whispered.

Lassiter finished on the phone and rolled his eyes when Shawn leaned into him a bit more, "Spencer. I'm not a bed." Lassiter said with a hint of annoyance in his voice. When Shawn didn't move or say anything he felt that worry bubble in the pit of his stomach. "Spencer?" Lassiter said as he grabbed Shawn by the shoulders and tugged him back.

Shawn shook his head and forced a smile, a move that didn't go unnoticed by the older detective, "I…mmh… s'alright Lassie… got too caught up in the moment." Shawn said lightly, trying his best to hide his thoughts.

Lassiter pursed his lips and stared hard into the other man's eyes, taking note that there was a hint of fear in them. "Whatever you say Spencer." The detective said quietly before letting the man go; taking note that Shawn was hesitant to break contact with him.

Shawn saw that Lassiter was picking up on his odd behavior and forced a laugh, "W-well… You called the cops right? Les hoof it to your car and head to your place. I wan sleep…" Shawn said quickly, hoping that getting away from this place would take away his unease.

Lassiter wanted to stay and make sure that the guy got booked, but with that shiner on Blake's head, the head detective reasoned the perp would probably be out like a light for at least two hours, and there was no way he'd get out of those cuffs or even out of that chair, he was sure of it. With that in mind, Lassiter sighed and nodded, "Yeah I guess. If you're insane enough to not go to the hospital after what you've been through then I should look at your wounds and get you lucid as soon as possible." Lassiter admitted as he picked up his gun from the floor. "Follow me alright?" Lassiter ordered.

Shawn nodded and took a step forward, only to tumble down to one knee and let out a displeased groan, "Oh god the room is spinning… this really, really sucks." The psychic stated as he swayed forward, catching himself with his hands. "M'sorry Lassie… my legs… they're jelllin'…" Spencer said with a hint of helplessness in his voice, his hands gripping in frustration at his predicament.

Lassiter noticed the man's frustration and let out a long sigh, before kneeling down and lifting the other man up onto his feet before moving to carry him piggy-back style. Shawn raised a brow and looked over the detective's shoulder, "L-Lassie, whachu-"

"Say a word about this to anyone and I swear I'll have your head Spencer, this I promise." Lassiter said as he climbed the steps leading outside, and heading toward his car.

Shawn wrapped his arms tightly around the detective's neck and rested his head on his back, a laugh coming from the psychics lips "Whatevr' floats that big blue eye-boat Lassie."

Lassiter grit his teeth, "I mean it Spencer, and don't think I won't end you if I become the subject of ridicule for taking care of your pathetic, fraudulent ass." Lassiter warned.

Shawn let out a content sigh, "I know you will Lassie… I'm just happy s'all." The psychic said with a bit of a slur in his voice.

Lassiter raised a brow, "And why are you so happy? I sure as hell wouldn't be if I was tied up for three days and about to pass out on homemade date-rape drugs." Lassiter said quietly, not quite getting the other's sense of humor.

Shawn brushed him off, "Nah, I barely had anything he gave me. Tried to get me with that stuff dissolved in water, but I barely got a gulp down each time… m'good at keeping clean y'know." Shawn giggled.

Lassiter rolled his eyes and finally got to his car, placing the man gently into the passenger's seat, "anyway, I should get you into my house and out of sight. The last thing I need is to be written up for ignoring protocol. You look like a wreck Spencer." Lassiter said as he got into the driver's seat, starting the car and doing a turn before heading back to Santa Barbara.

Shawn let a small smile play on his lips, "Okay Lassie… Take me home." The psychic said with a content tone, his mind wandering as he stared out the window, as he slowly drifted into the first content sleep he'd had in three days.

D'aww. Shawn feels safe with Lassie-Pants. Our favorite head detective doesn't seem too keen on having a high Spencer in his room though. We'll just have to wait and see what happens now won't we.

Well, that's it for the first chapter guys. Gimme some feedback. Was it awesome? Did it suck? whatever you have to say is greatly appreciated.

School year just started but I hope to have the second chapter out soon.