Jane Adams shivered slightly as she hurried down the steps of the Douglas County Public Library. She was supposed to get off work there at five, but the flu was in full force and she needed the extra cash, so when Janice had called in Jane had offered to pick up the extra shift. It was now 9pm and it was freezing outside. It was February and that meant snow, ice and cold weather. In her rush she slipped a little bit on the steps and almost fell the rest of the way down. She swore and then regained her footing. The parking for library employees was across the street. The street normally wasn't busy, but Jane neglected to look both ways before stepping out onto the street. A horn honked and she saw a blur of headlights as a car came right at her. She barely had time to register what was happening when someone pulled her out of the way. She landed on the ground with a painful bump and then looked up at her rescuer. He was tall and was wearing a grey suit with the most awful tie Jayne had ever seen. It looked like a clown hurled on it.
"Are you stupid?" He asked scowling at her. She couldn't really make out his face in the shadows cast by the street lamp, but the tone of his voice made it was clear he wasn't happy.
"Sorry, I didn't see it coming." Jane apologized, standing up and brushing herself off. "Thanks for that though." Her rescuer made a sound of indifference.
"You didn't get hit by a car, but don't think you're going to get away with blatant jaywalking." He said pulling a notebook out of his pocket. Jane noticed a badge clipped to his belt as he moved his jacket to the side.
"Jaywalking, are you kidding me?" Jane nearly yelled in disbelief, annoyed that after saving her from a car this guy was going to write her up for something that would best be described as criminal mischief. She started heading for her car and then realized she was looking at very different surroundings then she was supposed to be. It was much warmer, there was no snow and her car was no where to be seen. She turned around to look behind her at the library and that too was no where to be seen. Her rescuer grabbed her arm and before she could react he had put handcuffs on her wrists. He put her in the back of an unmarked police car. Jane was irked at this point and as soon as she was in the car she kicked the back of the driver's seat.
"Don't you have to read me my rights or something?" She asked giving the seat another kick. The man stayed silent but in the light from the passing street lights Jayne could see a muscle in his jaw twitching. She studied him as they drove. His hair was dark and close cut. His hands gripped the steering wheel with his knuckles turning whiter as he drove. When they got to a stop light he turned around.
"Would you stop kicking my seat?" He hissed.
"Would you at least tell me who you are?" Jane asked. She was tired and her arms were beginning to hurt from being in the cuffs. Streetlights illuminated the car and as the man turned back to face forward around Jane got a good look at his face and her mouth opened in a perfect O.
"Lassiter?" She said aloud and then quickly closed her mouth wishing she hadn't said it. He acted as if he hadn't heard her. Within minutes he parked and then pulled her out of the car. Jane got a glimpse of the building in the dark and did a double take. This was the strangest experience she had ever had in her life. First, the cop who arrested her was a fictional character and now she was standing in front of his fictional police station.
Shawn Spencer didn't normally hang out at the Santa Barbara Police Station during the night. Especially not on nights he wasn't working a case, those nights he usually was out with Gus battling it out in a game of DDR or having a Judd Nelson marathon. Tonight, however, he had realized when he walked out the door of his apartment that he had left his wallet at the station earlier that day. The case he was working on had involved some pretty intense psychic visions and he assumed the wallet had fallen out either in the chief's office or near Lassiter's desk. He had just checked the chief's office and was on his way over the Lassiter's desk, when the doors of the station opened and Shawn watched as Detective Carlton Lassiter brought a girl in. He had her in handcuffs and she was wearing jeans and a sweater.
*Odd, Shawn thought to himself. It's a little warm in California to be wearing a sweater.*
The girl was looking around the station, her face confused. Lassiter took her over to his desk ignoring the fact that Shawn was standing right there.
"Can I help you out with anything Lassie?" Shawn asked, still staring at the girl. She ignored him and kept staring at the ceiling, her eyes flickering back to Lassiter every once in a while.
"You could help by leaving me alone." Lassiter snapped, pulling paperwork out of his drawer. "Now you stay put," He growled at the girl as he switched the handcuffs so her right arm was handcuffed to the chair. "I need coffee." As soon as Lassiter was gone Shawn grabbed the key out of Lassiter's desk, where he had put it. He unlocked the handcuffs and grabbed the girl's hands to make her look at him.
"Are you alright?" Shawn asked the girl directly, watching her face for any clues that might help him to 'divine' the reason she looked so awful. The girl looked up at him and her face lit up in recognition, then flickered with confusion and then went into utter disbelief.
"What's going on here?" She asked her voice slightly shaky.
"Well, you just were arrested by the police and brought into the police station at 9:00 at night." Shawn supplied beginning to think this girl was crazy. She shook her head.
"No, I mean what are you doing here? What am I doing here?" She looked all around the station and then turned back to Shawn. "You're James Roday." She didn't say it as a question, but stated it as a fact. Shawn tilted his head to the side.
"No….. You must have me confused with someone else. My name is Shawn Spencer. I'm the department's psychic detective." He held out his hand. The girl looked at it and then at his face and slowly reached out her own hand. Shawn grabbed it and dramatically pulled her out of the chair. He held her hand to his forehead. His eyes were closed so he missed the look of complete horror that crossed the girl's face. Their little exchange had attracted the attention of the few policemen that were working late that night. Lassiter had been in the conference room getting his coffee and almost dropped it when he walked back to his desk to find Spencer holding his prisoner's hand. He was scowling fiercely and when the girl saw him her eyes got wide and she let out a small noise of shock and fear.
"Spencer what the hell is going on here? You aren't supposed to unlock the handcuffs. How did you get my key anyways?" Lassiter asked, demanding an answer to the ruckus the psychic was causing.
"I'm sorry Lassie, but I was trying to divine an answer when you startled her." He pointed at the girl who was staring at both of them. He pushed the girl back into the chair that she had been sitting in before. He grabbed Lassiter's coffee out of his hands and held it out to her. "Have some coffee." The girl barely registered when Shawn sat her down, but at the mention of coffee she shook her head.
"No thanks. I don't take three creams and four sugars in my coffee like Lassie does." She held out the cup to Lassiter. Lassiter took it, but didn't drink it.
"How do you know my name?" He asked her, scowling furiously. Shawn held up a hand.
"Hang on Lassie I think a better question is; what is her name?"
Lassiter glared at Spencer. "You're a psychic shouldn't you already know that?" he snapped.
"My name is Jane Adams," The girl said. She was sitting with her arms crossed and shivering a little as if she were cold.
"What business do you have being escorted into a police station at night and then screaming when you see the stern face of Detective Lassiter?" Shawn asked giving her a wink. "C'mon Lassie this'll be like playing good cop, bad cop."
"Head Detective Lassiter," Jane and Lassiter corrected him at the same time. Lassiter glared at her.
"Spencer, might I remind you I'm the only 'cop' here." He turned back to Jane. "How do you know so much about us?" Lassiter asked her again. Jane chewed her lip for a second thinking things over. Should I really tell them that Psych is just a TV Show in my life? No they'll send me to a loony bin faster than you could say pineapple. What would Shawn do? She looked at him and then blurted out the first thing that came to her mind.
"I'm psychic." Lassiter rolled his eyes and Shawn laughed.
"Please, I didn't get the psychic vibe from you." He said, waving his hands around Jane's aura. That was all Lassiter could take. He stood up from where he had leaned against his desk and grabbed Jane's arm.
"Spencer, if this is one of your pranks," He growled as he pulled Jane to her feet. Jane pulled away from him and took a step back holding her hands out in front of her.
"Wait, I can prove it," She said, hoping the two men were living lives identical to the ones she saw every Friday on TV. Lassiter looked like he wanted to reach for his gun, but didn't and just crossed his arms instead. Shawn looked intrigued.
"So prove it." Lassiter challenged. He couldn't lock up Spencer for being a fake, but if this girl was trying to pull the same routine he would make sure she knew she had gotten arrested by the wrong detective.
"Shawn once broke one of Gus' boss's mugs while haunting the house himself." Jane looked at Shawn to see what his reaction would be. Shawn was still looking at her intensely and then he tilted his head to the side and smiled.
"I didn't think it, but you do appear to be psychic." He announced. Lassiter held up a hand.
"That proves nothing other than the fact you're a fake and a klutz Spencer." He said. Jane looked at him and then licked her lips. There was only one thing she could possibly think of to say to Lassiter that would make him believe she was psychic.
"Victoria said she still loved you." That was all Jane had to say, Lassiter looked shocked for a moment and then he looked furious.
"Alright, I have just about had about enough of you." He grabbed Jane's arm again. "Maybe a night in prison will make you think twice about playing around." He pulled and dragged Jane down the stairs to the holding cells. It was a quiet night at the station and they were the only two people down there. As Lassiter fumbled slightly with the keys, Jane started talking again.
"You thought everything was going so well. You bought that necklace, it was gorgeous." Lassiter didn't say anything but stopped looking for the right key and just held them in his hand. "You thought it was a chance for you to redeem yourself with the dinner and she handed you divorce papers." Lassiter looked up at Jane. His eyes weren't teary, but he looked incredibly defeated. Jane put a hand softly on his sleeve. "Please don't make me spend the night here." Her voice was soft and she was almost whispering. Lassiter slowly set the keys back in the desk where they belonged. Jane followed him back upstairs where he wordlessly collected his things and then left the station. It didn't seem right to follow him so Jane stayed standing there.