AN: This story was written for the 50 Opposites challenge. Enjoy!
Opposites: Slow/Fast
"He's sick, he's gotta be," Lassiter stated firmly.
"He doesn't…look sick. Maybe he hasn't had his coffee yet," Juliet replied.
"It can't always be coffee…can it?" the head detective asked incredulously. Chief Vick joined them at the window.
"Are we being productive detectives?" she inquired, arms crossed.
"Chief, something's wrong with Shawn." Vick looked questioningly at the petite blonde before turning her gaze through the separating glass. Shawn Spencer—hyper active Psychic Consultant of the SBPD—was standing with his partner Gus. Just standing there. No flower hand motions, no dancing in place…not even an animated facial expression. He saw them staring and began to wave, but his hand instantly went back to his side.
"Maybe…something's broken?" Karen offered blankly. "Like…a rib or something." The objective of their scrutiny made his way over to the office and opened the door.
"You wanted to see me Chiefy?" he asked casually, far too casually.
"What's wrong with you Spencer?" Lassiter blurted none to kindly. Shawn looked back at him confused.
"I think what Carlton was trying to say is…are you alright?" Juliet clarified. Gus coughed awkwardly, trying badly to cover up a fit of laughter so they wouldn't notice…they noticed.
"Nope everything's fine," Shawn responded, shooting a glare at his cohort. Chief Vick slowly regained his composure.
"Well here is the case file, everything you need is in there," she informed him dully.
"Thanks Chiefy." He turned to the detectives "Lassie…Jules." He nodded to each in turn…just nodded. With that he left, walking slowly down the hall.
One Hour Earlier…
"Shawn you couldn't go through a day without jumping around like some un-housebroken puppy," Henry fused.
"I could too!" The younger Spencer retorted.
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah."
"Prove it."
"Fine I will!"