Title: Murder and Mayhem and Monopoly, Oh My!

Author: greenrandomness

Rating: K

Warnings: Mild violence and some disturbing images

Summary: A robbery and murder occur inside the Santa Barbara Police Department while multiple officers are present. Shawn and Gus try to find out who did it, and how.

Authors Note: Hey! This is my first Psych fan fiction, and I just hope it turns out well. The title is similar to a lot of the episodes titles, which means it is a bit odd, a little confusing, and it won't make sense until later. The story itself will be in 6 parts, which despite not actually being written, they are completely planned out.

Also I would like to say now that I am taking some liberties with the layout of the police department, and with some technology…because I honestly don't know if some stuff I say would even work.

Disclaimer: Only the story line and any characters you don't recognize are mine…anything else belongs to the creators and owners of Psych.

Chapter 1- Tag You're It!

1987

A young Shawn Spencer slowly crept down the stairs, expertly avoiding the creaking step at the bottom, he made it to the wood floor without a sound. Pausing momentarily, he glanced around suspiciously. His hazel eyes roamed the entire area; he couldn't get caught. Sliding along the smooth wall like his father had taught him, he had made it half way to the kitchen before he paused again.

A sound, he looked up at the ceiling and held his breath. Each second felt like an eternity, but after only three such seconds, he let his breath out in a relieved sigh. He could still hear his father hammering away at the broken railing of the porch. He was safe for a little while longer. Glancing at the clock above the stove, Shawn noticed that it was 7:25; his bus would be arriving at any moment.

Sprinting to the kitchen table, he threw caution out the window, and grabbed his father's wallet. Pulling a crisp five-dollar bill out from the leather, he swiftly moved to put it into the back pocket of his jeans. Unfortunately, before it reached its destination he was smoothly turned to face the opposite direction.

"Uh…Hi dad…" He smiled. The look on his face was purely angelic, but the open wallet in his left hand, and the five in his right hand, was enough to condemn even the most saintly of children, and Shawn had a record of being anything but saintly.

"Shawn, what do you think you're doing?" Henry demanded; his voice carefully controlled…for the moment.

"Well…would you believe that the money put itself in my hand?" He asked hopefully, but all he got in return was a straight face and an outstretched palm. Handing the money and wallet back to his father, Shawn averted his eyes from the pale blue ones staring at him.

"Why were you trying to steal from me, you know— " The loud honk of the school bus outside, interrupted Henry's reprimand, and Shawn smiled again. Grabbing his backpack from the floor, he started to run to the door, but a firm hand on his shoulder stopped him mid stride.

Looking up into the still smoldering eyes of his dad, Shawn said, "I have to go dad, that's the bus." Trying to pull away again, he was once again stopped short.

"I'll drive you today." Henry responded smugly, and as if on queue the bus pulled away, leaving a desperate Shawn staring after it wistfully through the window. Henry grabbed his car keys from the counter and walked the rest of the way to the door with Shawn following hesitantly behind him.

Once they were on the road Henry asked his son once again why he had tried to steal from him.

"I had a good reason! I swear dad, you know I wouldn't—" Shawn babbled only stopping when his father put his hand up.

"There is no good reason to steal." He looked over at his son, "What you are going to tell me is an excuse."

"Dad, I took your money because a friend on mine needed it. Her dad got fired, and she hasn't had lunch money for the past week!" He stared at his father pleadingly; surely that was good enough reason. It was to help someone, not to buy a game, or to spend on candy, how could his father be angry with him when it was for someone else.

"Shawn, no matter what the reason, stealing is wrong. I understand that you wanted to help your friend, but you went about it the wrong way." Henry explained, but his son soon cut him off.

"But dad—" Shawn began.

"No buts, Shawn." He interrupted, "Have you ever heard of doing the wrong thing for the right reason?"

"Um…no…?" Shawn replied with uncertainty. He looked through the window, if he tried hard enough he could just barely see the brick of his school around the corner; he was almost free.

"Doing something for a good reason doesn't automatically make it good. Most of the time, you can reach the same goal by doing the right thing." He explained as he pulled into the school parking lot.

"Dad…"Shawn tried to interrupt, but the man was stopped.

"There better not be a repeat of this incident…no matter what the reason." He continued, locking the doors when Shawn tried to get out.

"Dad I'm—" Shawn began again with pleading eyes.

"Shawn, you can have the five dollars that you took," Henry said, pulling it out of his wallet, "because I would have given it to you if you would have asked," He explained holding it out to his son. As Shawn reached for it he pulled it back, just out of his reach. "But, you are officially grounded for the next two weeks." Henry concluded, placing the money in his son's small hand.

"But dad!" Shawn cried indignantly, drowning out the sound of the doors unlocking.

"Go on, or you'll be late for school." He replied, dismissing Shawn firmly.

Angrily grabbing the door handle, Shawn threw it open, and stormed out the car. Glancing back over his shoulder, he stomped up to the building and through the doors.

Present day

Throwing open the doors, Shawn flamboyantly entered the police station, with Gus trailing slowly behind him.

"Good morning! And what a fine morning it is, wouldn'tcha say Gus?" Shawn smiled happily at Gus, who just stared back.

"You do realize that it is pitch black outside." Gus stated gesturing to the window, which true to his word was almost completely lacking light. "It's practically hurricane weather out there, and you think it's a 'fine morning'!" Gus exclaimed, staring at Shawn incredulously.

"You're just cranky because we had some trouble getting here." He replied, crossing his arms.

"Trouble? Trouble?" Gus nearly screamed, leaning in closer to Shawn. "You call having a falling tree nearly hit my car 'some trouble'!" He harshly whispered as he realized that the entire station was staring at them.

"Yes, yes I do Gus, and do you want to know why?" Shawn baited him, obviously not caring that the entire station was watching, or maybe that was why he was doing it.

Sighing, Gus played along, "Sure, Shawn. Why?"

"Because we didn't get hit!" He cried as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"I give up, Shawn. I really do. I just give up." Gus fell into an unoccupied chair, and tried not to imagine how close they had come to being just another accident article in the newspaper.

Shawn began to meander around the station, greeting everyone he passed. Suddenly he stopped and yelled, "Tom!" running up to a tall man somewhere in his early 50's, "It's been months since I last saw you!"

"Hey, Shawn." He smiled pleasantly while arranging some files on his desk, "How've things been?"

"Great, great." Shawn replied readily, bouncing on his heels, " How's your wife, I heard she was sick?" He asked sobering up almost immediately.

"She's been better, but at least now she's with the family. She's being cared for at home…as long as our insurance holds up." He sighed, but soon brightened as a young man carrying a khaki messenger bag walked up. He pulled him over, and put an arm across his shoulders, "Shawn, I would like you to meet my nephew, Mark, he just graduated the academy."

"Nice to meet you," Shawn replied sticking out his hand, "I'm Shawn Spencer, the department's Psychic Consultant."

Shaking his hand readily, Mark replied, "Mark Spies." He paused, his eyebrows raised as he continued, "Psychic consultant…I didn't know they had one."

"Oh they do, and I just happen to be him," Smiling again, Shawn withdrew his hand, "So Mark, how's cop life treating you? Have you met Lassie yet?"

"Good…and I'm guessing you aren't referring to the Collie?" Mark inquired, running a hand through his sandy blonde hair.

"There's a Collie named Lassie?" Shawn asked, quirking an eyebrow, but before Mark could answer a loud boom sounded, and the lights flickered off.

"What was that?" Gus asked shakily as he walked up behind Shawn.

"Ah!" Shawn screamed, before turning around "Don't do that, man! Haven't you ever heard the saying 'never sneak up on a psychic.'?"

"I thought that was 'never wake up a sleep walker'? Gus replied.

"Well…" Shawn started, but was interrupted by the chief.

"I need someone to go check out the fuse box." Interim Chief Vick announced to the almost completely dark room. Only a few flashlights, and the emergency lighting brightened the area.

"I'll do it Chief." Tom announced, borrowing a flashlight from a nearby officer.

"Thank you Sergeant Quinn. Take someone with you just incase." Karen Vick instructed, watching as he complied readily, bringing his nephew along with him.

Soon they were down the hallway and out of sight, leaving the rest of the station to try and carry on their business without lights. Shawn, seeing his opportunity, grabbed Gus's arm and pulled him over to Juliet's desk. When they were a few steps away, he put his fingers to his lips in the sign for 'quiet', and crept towards her. Gus grinned, and crept up on the other side.

Shawn counted down on his fingers from three. One finger down, two fingers down, but as the last one fell a second deafening noise shook the building. It echoed through the room, and sent everyone running for the back of the police department.

"Shawn, was that what I thought it was?" Gus asked as they joined the rush of nearly twenty police officers down the hall.

Pushing their way through the throng of people standing near the last door on the left, Shawn responded, "Did you think it was a gunshot?" while pushing through the final group of people.

Standing at the front of the group, they could see why everyone was staring; the man charged with guarding the evidence room was lying dead on the floor with a gunshot wound to the head. Shawn continued, "Because I'd say that's a pretty fair assumption."

TBC

Author's note: I'm going camping for the next few days, but I will be writing while I am gone, so if you guys are interested in having me continue this, please REVIEW!!!