If you can stick to walls, how did you get caught?

It's not every day you find yourself sneaking through someone else's house dressed as Marvel heroes. Or every night.

Dr. Norman Deja's villa was deserted. The psychologist was taking his vacation in the Mediterranean. The potted palms in the darkened courtyard had dropped leaves that had had no one to sweep them away. Even the lights, set to be on in different rooms at different times of the night to deter would-be burglars, were off.

Looking into the empty courtyard with the pool-lights off under a cloudless night sky—things seemed completely desolate.

Well…until you heard the crash, someone's expletives that were not quite muffled by someone else's shirt-sleeve.

"Would you please shut up already?" asked Spiderman, the "other" whose shirt-sleeve had proved ineffectual in quelling the obscenities spouted by the figure next to him—who appeared, on close inspection—to be The Green Lantern.

"Who leaves spare terra cotta lyin' in the walk, Shawn?" Green Lantern hissed, pulling up his mask, so that the fierce, and hopefully-frightening, scowl would be at its most effective.

"Dude, I thought these disguises were to provide a certain amount of anonymity," Spiderman griped, pulling his mask up as well. "Way to give away some secret identities."

"This is serious, Shawn," Gus reprimanded. "We're not supposed to be here."

Shawn was looking around the column they were hiding behind, and, to all appearances, not listening at all.

"Yeah, yeah," he replied. "Are we ever supposed to be where we are?"

Green Lantern grouched for a minute while Spiderman looked around the courtyard, taking in the details.

"Shawn," Gus said, "How do you even know they'll be here?"

"Sweet!" Shawn said, still looking the other direction.

"Shawn…"

"Dude, they're totally here. They've already disabled all security to the house, check out those cute lines," Shawn said, pointing towards a second-story corner.

Gus didn't even bother looking—in this kind of dark, he'd never see it.

"So they're here," he said. "What now?"

"Now we do some super-sneaking," Shawn replied, pulling the mask back over his head, and heading off, back against the wall, sneaking around the perimeter of the courtyard towards the door to the house-proper.

"Shawn, standing against the wall doesn't make you invisible," Gus said. But, as usual, his partner (in crime) didn't hear. Or didn't listen. Gus pulled the mask back on and resumed his identity as The Green Lantern, following Spiderman into the dark, as melodramatically as possible.

"We've gotten a tip that the gang is meeting tonight," Chief Vick said. Sitting opposite her, in her office, was Head Detective Carlton Lassiter.

"Did you trace the call?" Lassiter asked, covering the basics.

"It was a pay-phone," the chief answered. "Now, if we could find them tonight, this would be a golden opportunity to put several drug lords out of business."

Yes, a golden opportunity, thought Lassiter. But, he was pretty sure he wasn't the only one who would see it this way. In fact, he was surprised that that little leaching wannabe-detective, Spencer, hadn't showed yet. Not that the force had notified him. But it didn't matter. Spencer had the obnoxious knack of always having insider information. Of course, this was a blessing. It was almost too good to be true to have a case without having Spencer and his partner butting into his business and space every five minutes. And the thing was, when things seemed too good to be true—where Spencer was concerned—they usually were.

"Well…" Lassiter started, just as the office door burst open, as Lassiter's junior partner ran in, moving rather too fast and acting rather too excited, to seem quite professional.

"Chief!" Juliet started. The imperturbable expression on the Chief's face, made her slow down. She was holding a phone with the receiver muffled in her shoulder.

"We, uh, we've gotten another call," she said.

"Let's hear it," the chief said, holding her hand out for the phone.

Vick turned on speaker phone and the three leaned in, listening in silence. There was a long beep, then a voice that sounded highly artificial, said:

"Dr. Deja's."

Then it just repeated. And repeated.

What the? How bizarre and/or stupid was that? Lassiter thought. Hey wait, bizarre, and stupid. At the same time. It had Spencer written all over it.

He glared up at the other two. Juliet had "confused" written all over her face.

"What does it mean?" she asked.

"McNabb!" Chief Vick called. "I want you to bring up everything you can on a 'Dr. Deja.' And get someone to trace the call, if you can."

Lassiter almost chocked. Ridiculous! Spend valuable time and energy tracing this…repeating…whatever it was! And it was probably all Spencer's fault. Darn him.

"With all due respect," Lassiter said, pulling himself up, "I think there are others ways I can do more for this case."

He tried, and succeeded, not to cringe under The Chief's look.

"Are you suggesting that my say is wrong?"

"Eh…" Darned Spencer. Somebody really had to be out, in the field, on this case.

Somebody was. But, if he'd seen them, it wouldn't have comforted Lassiter at all.

Spiderman and The Green Lantern were nearing their end. Call it Spidy-sense—but Shawn could tell.

Gus on the other hand…

"Shawn, we've been sneaking around these halls for forty-five minutes. If we haven't found anything yet—I don't think we're gonna find it. Maybe you got the date wrong."

"No no," Shawn waved his fellow super off. "I know they're here."

"Yeah, how?" his friend asked, skeptically.

"Because they're behind that door," Shawn whispered back, pulling his Spidy mask back over his face.

Then Gus heard it too. The muted arguing behind the door at the end of the hall. Great. How did he let Shawn talk him into these things? If they were right, it was armed drug lords. And armed drug lords weren't averse to bumping off those who got in the way. And Shawn and Gus? They generally got in the way.

The first suspicion that the seller got that they were in trouble, was a small, short, buzz. He placed it immediately—a phone, on silent.

The man held up a hand, the others around him quieting, as he turned full circle.

"Do any of you have a phone on you?" he asked dangerously. No, he saw the response reflected in their eyes. None of them would be that stupid. Then who would...?

The phone buzzed again. The man in charge wheeled around, honing in on the sound. And there were other sounds as well now. A slight shuffling, hissing…and was it, whispered cursing?

He turned sharply, looking towards the back of the storeroom, the left corner, propped in the rafters.

If he was the sort of person who did double-takes, one would have definitely been in order then. Apparently the only people stupid enough to bring phones into a deal like this were…Spiderman. And the Green Lantern.

"Well, why did you have your phone with you?" Shawn hissed.

"Me? It's your phone, genius!"

"Wha—oh," Shawn said, feeling for his pocket. "Yeah it is. Who's calling?"

"Are you crazy?"

"Hey!" came a voice. The two looked down, from their highly uncomfortable corner. Into a gun barrel.

They froze—as the criminals stared at what they definitely would never have expected to find butting into their deal.

"Okay," Shawn said, after a minute. "I would put my hands up if I didn't need them to keep me from falling."

"Down," one of the men ordered. They came down.

"Oh come on, Carlton," said Juliet, to the grumping Lassiter, smoldering behind his desk.

"I'm telling you O'Hara. The minute we get news, I'm out of here."

"Fine," she said, throwing up her hands, "The minute we get news." The turned on her heal, giving up. She walked past the phone McNabb had been working on, doing a double take when she saw the numbers it now displayed.

Ten minutes and things had gone from really bad to intolerable. Gus sat in this chair, hands tied behind his back. Back to back with Shawn's chair. Caught. While the two sides of the deal that had been going stood in heated argument in the next corner. They two sides were looking pretty hostile towards each other. But whatever they decided, Gus figured it wasn't gonna go down well with them.

"What now," Gus hissed through clenched teeth.

"I'm watching and waiting," Shawn answered.

Gus would have slapped his friend if he had had his hands free. What was this?

"You don't seem very worried," Gus whispered, voice fairly dripping with venom.

"I usually don't," was the imperturbable reply. "I'm just hoping they hurry."

"What, hurry to kill us?"

"I had a plan," Shawn replied.

Right.

"What's your oh-so-brilliant plan?"

"I called the police in advance," Shawn replied. "With a tape-recorder set on repeat. I'm just hoping Lassie has figured it out by now."

It seemed like a pretty slim hope to rely on black-and-white Carlton Lassiter. But, then again, it was better than nothing. Gus felt slightly, very slightly, better.

Which ended when he was slapped in the face.

"Stop talking," nameless criminal #5 ordered.

Fine.

Shawn was so dead.

Wait…maybe they both were.

"I've got it," Buzz McNabb said, excitedly running into Chief Vick's office with a handful of papers. She and Lassiter looked up, impress me.

"Dr. Norman Deja, a psychologist," he said, happily, handing the papers over.

The Chief ran her eyes over the papers while Lassiter, impatient, restrained himself from reading over her shoulder. She looked up.

"This, Dr. Deja, has nothing to do with the gangs we're trying to break up."

McNabb looked slightly crestfallen. And slightly confused. Which wasn't that unusual.

"Give me that," Lassiter said, scanning them. "If it's not to do with the person, what about the place?"

He looked the papers and then read off the following address:

"Dr. Norman Deja, A113 Andreas Circle," Lassiter read off, as quickly as he could.

Juliet ran into the room.

"The phone," she said. "It was Shawn's!"

Oh course it was, he thought; Lassiter grabbed his jacket.

"Let's get moving."

Things were looking bad, for out heroes, as The Green Goblin and his hoard of goons were really mad.

"What are they saying?" Gus whispered.

"I don't speak Spanish, you do," Shawn answered.

But apparently, their captors had come to some kind of decision.

"What are they doing?" Gus asked.

But it didn't take long for them to figure out as the big, ugly one, who seemed to be in charge cocked his gun and pointed it at Shawn's face.

"Melodramatic," Shawn managed, dry-mouthed. Come on, come on, they had to get here.

That's when the cops kicked the doors down.

Let me rephrase that. That was when the cops tried to kick the door down.

"Ow," McNabb said, holding his ankle.

"Oh for pity's sake—you can't kick down the door," Juliet said.

Lassiter rolled his eyes, and kicked the door—if not down, then open.

Cops spilled in, outnumbering their enemies more than five-to-one, and all armed and angry. The drug dealers argued for less than thirty seconds before dropping their things, raising their hands, and filing aside as they were directed. When they filed to their captors—they revealed…Spiderman and some other hero Lassiter couldn't place, sitting back to back and tied up.

Worse, Spiderman had Shawn Spencer's face. Way for a childhood hero to let you down.

"Great!" Shawn said, "Nice door-kicking, Lassie. And now, I would greatly appreciate it if some kind soul would untie me, first so I have a head start on my partner, Hummingbird Williams, who looks like he'd like to kill me with his bare hands."

Well, it that's what he wants, he's in good company, Lassiter thought.

An hour later things were clearing up, scores of police vehicles, lights flashing, orders barked, and general chaos. But many had left. The drug-team was behind bars—and the good Dr. Deja had been called and notified as to the goings-on in his house.

Aside from a few, much complained-about, cuts and bruises, the Marvel heroes were doing fine. The Chief, Lassiter, and Juliet walked towards them.

"You are crazy," the Chief informed them, as if this was news. "You knew you should have just notified us of everything you knew immediately, instead of breaking in like this. You could have been used as hostages or killed."

"Well, the spirits were very motivated on this one, wouldn't give me a moment's peace. They got rather carried away."

The Chief apparently didn't deem that a comment worth replying to. She simply moved on.

"Of all the crazy…" Lassiter started.

"Easy cases you've had, this was the easiest," Shaw finished. We did all the grunt-work. And you got to show up, with a bang, for the finish."

The detective wondered just how much the fun of punching the younger man would outweigh the repercussions.

"That really was some nice door-kicking, Lassie," Shawn went on. "Very impressive wasn't it?" he asked, turning to Gus, who nodded, eyebrows raised.

Immature little…

But Shawn had moved on. "You've got to admit it Jules—you're kind of turned on by the whole super-hero thing, huh?"

"You're kidding, right?" she asked, turning to walk away.

"We figured it out!" Shawn called after her.

"Yeah," she said, not turning around. "You'd be really smart if you weren't so stupid."

Shawn glared at Gus, who shrugged.

McNabb came running around Lassie's car.

"We just got a call. There was this costume-rental that was robbed, downtown and…" he trailed off.

Lassiter was staring, hard, at the two in front of him, still in their Marvel get-up.

"You know what?" he decided. "I don't even want to know."

As he walked off, Shawn glanced at his partner.

"What do you think?"

"I think, all things considered, it went off pretty well," Gus replied.

"Yeah, these costumes did drive the danger-to-self up a notch," Shawn said.

The police began pulling out.

The two watched the force driving back to bed, leaving the two of them standing in front of the unfortunately-named Dr's villa.

"What's say we celebrate at my dad's?" Shawn asked, watching the cars trail off.

"Fine by me," Gus replied. "But you parked the car four blocks away."

"I did?" Shawn asked, following his friend down the street. "You were driving—so you parked. And parked an obscenely long way from this house."

"I may have been driving," Gus answered. "But you made me part there. 'For safety.'"

"Four blocks," Shawn mused, as they turned the corner. "What are the chances of you carrying me?"

"Not good."

It may not rank very high on the fantabulous scale. But I hope it was amusing at least. This was what happened when I came back from a long day and sat down at the computer. Next time I'm dressing someone as Hawk Man, as that is officially the dorkiest superhero outfit I've ever seen. But this was just random Psych-inducedness. Advice is appreciated. Kindness is rewarded in banana smoothies.

Psych© USA network

Spiderman and The Green Lantern © Marvel

Story© TheInkgirl

Thanks for reading!