Hello, everyone!

This is my first foray into Psych fandom. I hope I have gotten everyone true to life, but if you see any OOC-ness, discrepancies with the show, etc, please tell me. I'm not sure how long the chapters will end up being (probably not long :P) nor how often I will update. Hopefully it will be every couple of days, but, knowing me…CX I hope you enjoy!

Oh, dear. When this is taking place? I don't know. Sometime after they get together.

DISCLAIMER: If I owned Psych, James Roday would live at my house. And we would drink pineapple smoothies together. Sadly, as he does not, and I have no smoothies, I sense that I don't own the show. And those vibrations, unfortunately, are true.

Juliet was a big fan of getting a good night's sleep.

Sure, over the course of her career as a detective, there had been a few nights (okay, more than a few) where she had been up for the better part of 48 hours. And she was fine with that. Sure, she wasn't that fond of them, but when they came around she accepted them and moved on. It was all part of the job.

Still, needless to day, when she was woken up at three in the morning by her phone ringing on its highest volume, she was not happy. And when, after rolling over and peering at the bright screen with bleary eyes, she saw the caller was Shawn Spencer, psychic detective and her slightly immature boyfriend, she was closer to 'pissed' than not.

"Shawn?" she questioned, pushing back a yawn as her unused voice cracked.

There was silence on the other end of the phone for a moment, and she began to wonder if he had perhaps butt-dialed her. She was about to try again once before hanging up when she heard a cough and Shawn say,

"Jules?"

"Shawn, what's going on? It's…three in the morning."

"Jules, I, uh…I need a fav…" Shawn's voice trailed off. A feeling of foreboding rose in the pit of her stomach at the tension in his voice.

"Shawn, are you-"

"Screw it," she was interrupted, Shawn's voice steadily growing more serious and…dare she say it…terrified? "Jules, get out of here, you need to leave the city now, don't worry about me, just leave, now-" He was interrupted by the sounds of a scuffle, and there was a 'thunk' as, presumably, his phone hit the floor, accompanied by shouts.

"What's going on?" Juliet exclaimed into her phone, just as a click sounded, then the report of a gun. A scream of pain echoed across the phone line, and Juliet's heart stopped within her chest. "Shawn?" she whispered. The only answer she received was a pained groaning and shifting noise as the phone was picked up.

"Detective O'Hara," a deep, unfamiliar voice spoke into the iPhone. "I expect you know exactly what just took place. Come to the warehouse by the piers, just off 5th street. The big white one with the grey metal door. If you notify the police or anyone else that you're coming or that Shawny and I are here, little boyfriend's gonna go bye bye. Am I clear?"

"What do you want?" Juliet snarled, a cold, icy fear gripping her chest and impeding her breath.

"All in due time. Get here within the next half hour, or…I'm sure you don't want to know what'll happen then."

Juliet swung her legs out from underneath her blanket and scrambled to her dresser, stripping off her pajamas and hopping into more suitable clothes. "Don't hurt him," she ordered, trapping the phone between her chin and shoulder. "I'm on my way, just please don't-"

"Nononono," she heard Shawn's strained voice, "don't come, please don't come, Jules, please-" A loud smacking sound accompanied by a grunt reached Juliet's ears, making her gut swirl around very unpleasantly. That was the straw that broke the camel's back.

"So help me, whoever you are, if you hurt him any further I will shoot you repeatedly in the balls, then rip them off and stuff them down your throat, do you understand?!" she barked into the phone, snatching up her keys, holstering her pistol, and running to her car outside.

A wheezing laugh carried over the airwaves, and Shawn spoke. "Dang, man, you might want to leave now, I wouldn't want to mess with my girlfriend when she's-shutting up."

Even his joking couldn't bring a smile to her face, nor lift the fog that inhabited her brain. Putting her foot down, sending her speed gauge up to velocities she didn't even want to think about, she told Shawn the only thing she could at the moment. "Hold on, Shawn," she called into the phone. "You'll be okay. …Just hold on."

She only prayed that she was right.

oOoOo

Shawn tilted his head back, resting it against the wall as he exhaled heavily. His hands, now covered in deep red liquid, clutched a burning bullet wound on his left thigh, now pulsing blood and not feeling great. At all. He exhaled heavily through his teeth, trying to quell the pain and the apprehension growing in his gut.

His kidnapper sat across the room from him, on some old wooden chair that Shawn wasn't sure was even capable of holding the massive Hulk of a man. Good grief, what did the man eat?! He was tall, muscled, possessed a head of remarkable hair in a buzz cut, wore a scowl of epic proportions, and was currently training a gun at his head.

"Look, man," Shawn attempted to get some conversation going, "I, uh…I don't suppose you have anything to eat around here, do you?"

No reply but that hard, unblinking stare.

"Yeah, that's fine, that's…fine. Not that hungry, really. I mean, I kind of have this bad habit of eating to pass the time. Well, usually I'm about as hungry as a starving wildebeest, but it's kind of hard to be hungry right now. I mean-" he glanced down at his leg, now saturated in a thick crust of blood "-it's kind of hard to want Doritos when you've been shot." He paused for a moment. "I got shot before. My shoulder. Then I had to run away from some guy and jump onto a car-but you probably don't want to hear about that. You know…I'm sure you've got some stories of your own, huh?"

Nothing.

"Huh. Maybe not. What, do you work at a plant nursery? Attack of the Rabid Roses! Or maybe…maybe an amusement park. Selling those really great slushee things. They taste pretty freaking awesome." Shawn sighed. "I could go for one of those. 'Cept that then I'd have to pee. And, well." He gestured to his thigh. "Don't think that's gonna happen."

God, what was with these man's eyes? It's like they were forged of the icecaps in Antarctica!

Shawn's mind trailed off into space as he thought about Juliet. Geez, he should never have called her…what was he thinking? Consequences be damned, she should never have been brought into this. Regardless of what 'this' was… This was clearly a bad man, and bad men with guns do not make for a simple equation. Well. Perhaps, with a bit of his psychic magic, he would work some miracles.

"Yo, Biggey," he tried once more, "you know who I am, right?"

"Shawn Spencer," the Incredible Hulk replied in his robot voice. "Son of former cop Henry Spencer. Self proclaimed 'psychic detective'. Boyfriend of Detective Juliet O'Hara."

Shawn raised his eyebrows. "Okay, then. Well. Someone's done their homework. Listen, since you obviously so astutely know that I am a psychic, what say we play a game? You win, I'll stay here. I win, and I get out home free, with Juliet. What say ye?"

"I don't believe in psychics," Hulk-man answered in his level voice. "I never have, and I never will. Anything can be found out with the right skills. So, no. I do not agree to your game. You will keep your mouth shut until the detective come, you will keep your hands where I can see them at all times, and you will not cause any other disturbances, or your bullet wound will have a twin. Do you understand me?"

Shawn opened, his mouth slightly, but no words would come, so he shut it obligingly and swallowed. Nodding, he closed his eyes and let out a sigh. The most he could do was wait.

He only hoped Juliet was safe, and going in the opposite direction of the warehouse.

Knowing Juliet, she probably wasn't.

Welp, that's the first chapter! I hope you enjoyed it. Please drop a review, if you would be so kind(: