The lights were dimmed, nearly nonexistent, as he stood with his back to the door-frame. Leaning against it lightly, trying to make no noise, he smiled. It was soft, but sad, as he heard the soft breathing of his young daughter. The eight months that she had been alive, had moved by so quickly, and Shawn feared that she would be all grown up in no time. He could feel time rushing by, just standing there.
Her nursery was an ugly yellow color, the one that her mother had picked out. The memory of that day brought back a weary smile. She hadn't wanted to know the baby's sex, even if Shawn did.
"Shawn," Abigail whispered softly, "I always told myself that if I ever got pregnant, that I wouldn't ask about the baby's sex. I don't care if the baby is a boy or a girl. All I care about is that he or she is healthy. Besides, yellow is a gender neutral color."
Shawn kicked at the floor softly, his hands shoved into his jean pockets. "I get it, Abby, I do. I just would really like to call our child something other than 'the baby'. Besides, this yellow is really ugly … plus, it makes me hungry for eggs."
Abigail laughed lightly, playfully hitting Shawn's chest, before cradling her large stomach in her hands. "How about once our child is born, we can repaint the room, something more fitting?"
Shawn shrugged, "Of course you would say that." His voice was playful, even though his face said he was pouting. "Myself … and Gus of course, would be doing the repainting."
The memories were becoming a little less painful as time passed by. There was a faint tan line on Shawn's left ring finger. He had only removed his wedding ring a month and a half earlier, and that had only been at his father's urging.
"Shawn. I know that you're in pain, and I know that you're having enough trouble raising that baby girl all on your own, but it's time. You'll never be able to move on or forward with that ring on your finger. Abigail isn't coming back, no matter how much you might want her too."
It had been eight months and two days to the day since she had left him. He had begged, he had pleaded. Tears clouded his vision as he watched her go.
"You can't do this! Please." His voice was raspy, his throat sore from all the screaming he had done.
Abigail didn't speak, she couldn't. Lying in the hospital bed, her eyes lifeless. Her body cold to the touch, and his wailing baby girl laid directly to his left. He knew that he should get up, that he should comfort his child, but he couldn't find the willpower to move.
A freak accident, is what the doctor had called it. Abigail hadn't had one ounce of trouble throughout the entire pregnancy, the picture of health throughout the whole ordeal. Even the birth had gone as planned, but something had happened shortly after.
She had called out, her voice wary, scared even, as blood started to trickle down her thighs. 'Something is wrong.' It was all she had been able to say, before she lost consciousness. The doctors claimed they did everything they could to save her. To keep her alive, but she was losing blood as fast as they could transfuse in some new blood.
Shawn sighed, as he heard Maggie start to wake up. He checked his watch, and nodded. It was feeding time. His feet shuffled to Maggie's crib, and he offered his daughter a smile. Grabbing her small body into his arms, he felt the familiar warmth of tears forming in his eyes. It happened almost every time that he looked at Maggie. She looked so much like her mother that it almost took his breath away each time he looked at her.
He knew that one day he would have to explain to Maggie why it was that she didn't have a mommy, and he knew that when that day came, it would break his heart all over again. Shawn had spoken to his father about it once, more recently, how he would be able to explain to his daughter that her mother had died having her. He knew that something like that would break her little heart. That it was a darkness that she would have to carry with her for the rest of her life.
His dad had been a little coy in his answer. "Sometimes, Shawn, the best answer comes in the moment." How in the hell was that supposed to help him? He needed answers, he needed guidance. What he really needed was to understand what exactly had gone wrong, because Shawn knew that he'd never be able to explain to Maggie what had happened to her mother if he didn't even understand it himself.
"Are you hungry, princess?" Shawn whispered, as he patted his fussy baby girl.
It had been Gus that had pointed out how different Shawn was, now that he was a father, opposed to who he had been before Maggie had been born. Hell even the weeks leading up to her birth, Shawn had still been … well, Shawn. According to Gus, he was a broken-shell of the man he had been, and Shawn couldn't disagree with Gus. His heart hadn't been into doing anything. He was still on leave from his job at the police station, and he knew that Chief Vick was starting to lose her patience, but he didn't know if he was ready to put his baby girl's life in someone else's hands.
"I swear, Shawn, she's in perfectly capable hands." Gus whispered, as he checked in on his Goddaughter.
"Really? Says the man that hasn't so much as touched a child... That didn't come out right..."
"I'm pretty sure that you just called me the opposite of Michael Jackson. Which, I'm not sure is more disturbing … or racist … or just really screwed up."
"Let's go with all of the above, and forget I ever said it."
Gus nodded softly, before speaking, "I know that I've never been kid friendly, Shawn, but this isn't just any baby. This is my best friend's little girl .. my Goddaughter .. I'll take good care of her, I swear it."
Shawn sighed, "Alright, but if you weren't my best friend..." Shawn knew he didn't have to finish his sentence. Maggie was the only thing that kept him going most of the time, and everyone around Shawn knew that. "Call me if you need anything … if anything happens, whatever."
"I will." Gus declared, "Now, go. If you don't go back to work, Chief Vick will have your head … and your job."
Shawn nodded, before sparing on last glance at his sleeping daughter. Gripping his helmet tightly in his hand, Shawn turned and moved toward the door. He remembered, vaguely, how Abigail had fought with him over the motorcycle. It was right after she had found out that they were expecting, and she stated that a motorcycle wasn't a safe form of transportation.
"What are you talking about!?" Shawn had yelled back.
"I know you always wear a helmet, Shawn, I do, but who is to say that something happened. I just, I would prefer if you drove something safer. Like a car."
Shawn smirked at her, knowing he had this argument in the bag. "Because a car is so much safer than a motorcycle? You can just as easily be severely injured or killed driving a car, than you can riding a motorcycle."
Abigail rolled her eyes, but she knew that he was backing her into a corner. "Not just as easily, Shawn."
"Babe, trust me, I know how deadly vehicles in general can be. I did my fair share of traffic accidents before my promotion. Cars, trucks, motorcycles … no form of transportation is a fail-safe. They're all dangerous in their own way."
Abigail threw her hands up in surrender. She knew there was no way she was going to win this argument. "Fine, but I refuse to identify your body in the morgue."
Shawn shook his head, trying to clear away the memory, before strapping the helmet to his head. Throwing his leg over the bike, he sat on the seat, before hitting the clutch and hearing the bike roar to life. Aside from holding Maggie in his arms, the only other thing to make him feel anything lately was to sit down on his motorcycle, and going for a small, cleansing ride.
Chief Vick signed her name at the edge of a piece of paper, when she heard her office door swing open. Even if she hadn't been expecting him, she would have known that it was Shawn Spencer entering her office. He was the only detective brave enough to actually barge into her office without knocking.
"Detective Spencer," Her voice was soft, but Shawn could hear the soft hint of aggravation.
"Look-" Shawn started, but Karen Vick lifted her hand to stop him from continuing.
"Look, Shawn," He knew that he was about to get a life lesson lecture from her when she spoke his first name. It didn't help that Vick had known him since he was a little boy. "I can't even begin to fathom what you're going through. How you must be feeling. That is why I have been so tolerant of your constant avoidance of my phone calls … of your continued missing work, without the proper paperwork. No one should ever go through what you're going through, Shawn, especially not someone of your age. I never got to give you my condolences. I truly like Abigail, and she was able to tame your more wilder side, which I was very appreciative for. I am truly sorry, Shawn, I am."
Shawn sighed, before plopping down in the chair in front of her desk. "Thanks." Shawn mumbled, before running his hands across his face. "I'm sorry, Chief. I know you've put up with a lot of crap from me, and I know that you stuck your neck out for me back in the beginning. No one really wants a cop with a record, and I don't think I ever thanked you for that. I just...I couldn't bring myself to leave Maggie alone with someone else. It took everything in me to leave her alone with Gus today."
Vick nodded, she definitely understood what Shawn was saying. "I wasn't ever ready to leave my children alone with a stranger either, Shawn. Even now, I'm still not sure about it, but I know that I am needed elsewhere. You just have to be sure of one thing, Shawn. That the person you're leaving Maggie with is trustworthy."
Shawn nodded, "I'm ready to come back to work, Chief. I am. I can't sit in that house anymore."
Karen knew that Shawn had been trying to find a buyer for his house for a while now. No one needed to tell her why he wanted to sell his house, she knew. It was hard to move on, to get over something so horrible, when everything around you reminds you of it daily.
"Good...except, Detective Lassiter was injured in the line of duty-"
Shawn's eyebrows raised slightly. Detective Carlton Lassiter was Shawn's partner, and a real hard ass most of the time. "Is Lassie okay?"
Vick shook her head, even in his current state, Shawn had the wherewithal to still annoy the hell out of his partner. "Yes, Lassiter is quite alright. It was a minor injury, but it is enough to keep him out of the field, Detective Spencer. Since you still hadn't returned to work, he was set up to train with our new junior detective. Now, because of his injury, it will be up to you to train our new detective. Do you think you can handle that?"
Shawn shrugged, "I don't see why not. I was trained by one of the greatest cops in Santa Barbara history," Shawn said, quoting his father directly.
"Great. She's waiting for you in the bullpen. Her name is Detective Juliet O'Hara."
Shawn's nose wrinkled, "She?"
"Do you have a problem with women detectives?"
Shawn shook his head, "No, of course not! I just- I'm not so comfortable around the 'ladies'."
Karen knew what he wasn't saying, and felt bad for him. "I understand, Detective, but you have your orders."
Shawn nodded, "Thanks for the fifteenth chance, Chief."
"Always." Karen said softly, smiling at him.
"You must be Detective Carlton Lassiter. You're much younger than I thought you would be."
Shawn chuckled, "Please. I am not one Carlton Lassiter. Lassie actually injured himself, and is stuck on desk duty for the foreseeable future. My name is Shawn Spencer, and I'll be your partner for the foreseeable future."
Juliet smiled softly, "Nice to meet you, Detective Spencer." She stuck her hand out for him to shake.
Shawn cringed, "Please. It's Shawn. No need to be all professional with the names."
"Nice to meet you, Shawn."
"Nice to meet you, Juliet." Shawn smiled.