"Well, well, well," Henry's voice reached Shawn's ears before he looked up to see his father's face. Henry approached the bars, standing just out of reach of Shawn's hands. Shawn approached the bars as well, leaning against them, taking a classic prison pose, his hands through the bars. "Can't say I'm surprised to see you like this, I always figured the only way you'd call me would be if you were here."

Shawn, having spent the last few hours in this particular cell, was not feeling particularly keen on catching up with his father. "I didn't call you, Dad. My one phone call went to Gus. I needed him to TiVo Ellen." He couldn't do anything about his father being here, but he could take this opportunity to annoy him.

Henry nodded, he had expected nothing less from Shawn. "Looks like Gus has had enough of your crap, too. Maybe you should have called me."

"Last time I checked, you were living in Florida. Why would I call you?" He paused a moment, to let the implication sink in. "What are you doing here anyway?" Shawn tried to keep the curiosity out of his voice, but it was pointless. Despite the years, he was as his father had trained him to be, an information seeker.

"Chief Vick called me, said that you might be needing a hand."

"And you just rushed right down to rub this one in. Well, thanks for coming, Dad. We'll have to do this again sometime." Shawn stood up straight, done with this conversation.

Henry had come down here hoping that he and his son might be able to reconcile. He saw now that that had been a pipe dream. He turned to walk away, "Whatever, kid, but at least I came down. I don't see anyone else standing here trying to bail you out."

His father's words stung a little too much. He couldn't let his father have the last word. "You know what, Dad, It's your fault I'm in here to begin with. So it's only fair you should be here."

Henry rounded on his son before he'd finished his sentence. He advanced on the bars, "My fault? How is this my fault? You get yourself arrested and I'm to blame? Why don't you try a new line sometime, Shawn. That one's getting old."

Shawn was not intimidated by his father. "Well, it's as true now as it was then. You're the one who trained me to be a detective, to read guilt, and analyze clues. If you had just let me be a normal kid, I wouldn't be here." He faced his father head on; he'd wanted to say that to him for a long time.

Shawn's explanation brought Henry up short. "Wait, what?"

Shawn took in his father's confusion. "They didn't tell you why I was arrested?"

Henry took a step back, wanting Shawn to keep talking, not clam up on him again. "No, Karen just said that you were in one of her cells."

Shawn nodded his head, typical. "I called in a tip, solved a case. The lead detective decided that my information was so good, it must have 'come from the inside.' So, see, it is your fault. I never would have called that tip in if you hadn't turned me into some kind of freak."

Henry was speechless for a moment. Shawn had solved a case? Not for the first time, Henry felt a surge of pride for his son, though he hid it well. All he'd ever wanted was for Shawn to follow in his footsteps. And it looked like, despite all Shawn's attempts to outrun the legacy, he was as much a detective as his father. Henry looked at his son as if seeing him for the first time. "If you solved the case, then what the hell are you doing in that cell?" Henry fixed his gaze on Shawn, hoping for an explanation that didn't cause his little bubble of pride to burst.

At this question, Shawn looked away. He'd done a lot of stupid things in his life, worthy of shame and embarrassment. Yet it was not an emotion he was familiar with. He felt it now though. With the single exception of his father, he'd never failed to talk himself out of trouble with authority figures before. His teachers, bosses, other cops, even his mother, he knew exactly how to handle a situation with any of them so that he could escape trouble. It had never worked with Henry, but that had never bothered Shawn, because there were few who could pull the wool over the eyes of the men that trained them. He'd always taken pride in his smooth talking abilities. And yet, earlier today, they had failed him. He muttered his response, the embarrassment evident in his voice, "I couldn't explain it."

Henry was lost at his son's words, "Explain what?"

Shawn rolled his eyes, looking back at his father. It should have been obvious to the older man, and a small part of Shawn wanted to believe his father was making him say all this purely for spite. "I couldn't give the detective an explanation for how I'd solved the case."

Henry's confusion deepened, "How did you solve it?"

This time, Shawn resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He could see now that Henry was purely trying to find out what had happened, asking questions as though he were still on the force himself. He complied. "There was an interview last night on the news. The guy being interviewed was the thief, he had all the classic tells, nervous tick, failure to make eye contact. Honestly, I don't see how they could have missed it."

Henry chose to ignore his son's evaluation of the SBPD. "They were interviewing the criminal, on the news?"

Shawn's patience snapped, his words came out rushed. "Yes, they were, he was an inside man, you know it doesn't really matter. What matters, is that I was right, he was guilty, and now I'm being punished for doing this department a favor."

The bubble swelled a little more. The tricks he'd taught his son for reading lies were some of the harder skills he'd had Shawn practice. While for the most part, the memory skills came to him naturally, and he'd always had a good mind for analysis, reading people was often harder. Picking up on small ticks and nuances was not an exact science, but one that you had to be able to adapt and apply differently in each situation. Sure, fiddling with your hands was often a tell, but sometimes, people were just fidgety. You had to be able to take the subject as a whole, all the while breaking down the pieces. "I'll tell you what, I'll go talk to Karen, see what I can do."

Shawn was taken aback. "You're going to help me get out of here?" He'd long ago given up having expectations for his father. When he'd first seen him twenty minutes ago, he'd fully been ready to accept nothing more than a remark about being a disappointment and watching him walk out once again.

Henry couldn't help a smirk. "I do have some sway still. Maybe I can help you out." Henry chuckled as he walked back toward the Chief's office.

A few minutes later, Henry came back, this time with the Chief in tow; "Mr. Spencer, Karen Vick, Interim police Chief."

"I know," Shawn eyed the woman warily. He'd met her before, years ago when his father was still on the force. She had been nice enough then, of course, that was before he'd been arrested, when he'd been the apple of his father's eye, primed to join the force. Or so his father had wanted to believe. Because this was his town, and he knew most of the veterans on the force, not to mention his freakishly good memory, he was able to stay on top of politics within the precinct.

Chief Vick assessed Shawn through the bars. She could hardly forget Henry Spencer's son, a boy who had spent many afternoons in the precinct locker room, or sitting by his father's desk. Henry had more than once boasted about how his son would one day join the force. She knew seeing his son on the other side of the bars must absolutely destroy the former officer. "I heard about what you did in there."

Not sure where this was going, Shawn put his best foot forward, sarcasm. "Oh, you're welcome."

The Chief put her hands on her hips, staying a few feet from the cell. She issued a mirthless chuckle, "oh, that wasn't the phrase I was going to use. I was going to say improbable; possible, yet unlikely." She scrunched her eyes, trying to read beyond Shawn's cavalier façade. His father had been one of the best minds on the force, if Shawn was even half as good…

The young man in the cell rolled his eyes at that. He shouldn't have allowed himself to believe that this would be easy. "Look, it's hard to explain. I'm 'gifted.'" The word came out dripping with sarcasm. It was the term Henry used to use, before everything went to hell. In the years following Shawn's departure from Santa Barbara, as he'd crossed the country trying to escape his past, his abilities had been a constant reminder of why he had left. They had also guaranteed that he would never lead a simple life, such was impossible when your mind worked at the speed his did, when your memory was perfect. He shot a look toward his father, "I am what he made me."

Resisting the urge to look toward the older Spencer, Chief Vick kept her eyes on Shawn. "I've known your father a long time. He was a good cop. You're nothing like him." She watched carefully to see how he would react.

Shawn didn't disappoint. His face tightened, the usually present glimmer of mirth disappeared from his eyes and there was no hint of humor in his voice when he answered. "I take that as a compliment, Mam."

Karen cringed. "Don't ever call me Mam." She took a moment to straighten her back.

Shawn was tired of this. He didn't belong here, and they had no right holding him. He held up his hands in apology. "I just want to go."

She took one more deep breath. Henry had asked her to give Shawn a chance, to put him to the test and see what he could do. He spoke very highly of his son's skills. Henry promised that Shawn was as good a detective as he himself had been so many years ago, if not better. He knew how to read people, how to put together clues, and his mind was almost as sharp as his wit. Hiring him as a consultant would help her solve her case, that's what Henry had said. It had been several days, and none of her detectives were getting anywhere with Camden McCallum's disappearance. And she was desperate, "Not yet. Are you familiar with the McCallum family?"

Shawn looked around, trying to follow the change in topic, "McCallum? Yea, they own half the hill."

Nodding, the Chief continued, "There's been a kidnapping."

"Oh, come on, I had nothing to do with that." The incredulity was heavy on Shawn's words. He couldn't believe they were not only holding him for a robbery he didn't commit, but were now trying to pin a kidnapping on him as well. If he stayed here any longer, they'd probably have him indicted as Jack the Ripper.

Finally laying out her hand, Karen smiled, "Would you like too?" She took a few steps closer, seeing the interest in Shawn's eyes. "The feds are itching to jump in on this case and I need to make some progress. What I need is a miracle, or the facsimile of one." She stopped a few inches from Shawn, close enough that he could touch her, close enough that he could read the offer in her eyes.

For a second, Shawn could do nothing but stare. Had he just heard her right? Her head detective had just locked him in a jail cell for solving a case, and now she wanted him to voluntarily solve another? The only thing Shawn wanted right now was to put as much space between himself and this precinct as possible. He did not want to become a consultant. Then his eyes shifted over Chief Vick's shoulder to his father. Most people would classify Henry Spencer as unreadable, but not Shawn. He could read his father. His eyes were trained to a point just to Shawn's left, so as to give the appearance that he was following the exchange. But Shawn knew better, Henry was currently reciting all the state's capitals in his head, a trick he'd taught his son years ago, so that he could drown out the conversation, a clever way to keep your face schooled and hide emotion. The only tell was the slight dilation of his pupils, the way they open ever so slightly when you stare at an inanimate object. If Henry was trying to hide emotion, it was because he had something vested in this offer, and Shawn could almost read the desire off his father's face. He wanted Shawn to do this, he wanted Shawn to solve the case, and be a detective, so that he could be proud. And despite all the years he had spent telling himself otherwise; Shawn knew that he wanted nothing more than to make his father proud. Of course, he'd never let him know that. "Oh, I see, I see. Well, I make $1200 a day."

Karen crossed her arms; Henry had told her to expect a response like that. She was more than ready to deal with him. "It's a try out." She let steel pour into her gaze and her voice, so that the younger Spencer would understand that she was fully capable of making his life hell.

He got the message. "That's what I meant to say. This is pro bono, something for you." He nodded his head to show his acceptance. He could play nice with the police, anything to get out of this cell.

"And if you in any way make me regret letting you out of this cell, you'll find yourself in another one, fast. Understood?" She locked eyes with him, willing him to understand.

"Sounds good." Shawn shook off her warning. He could solve any case they threw at him, and he really needed out of this cell. A couple cops did not scare him. "We're on the same team now, kidnappers beware!" A smirk blossomed on his face as she pulled out the keys to his cell and quickly opened it, allowing him to step out. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, Mr. Spencer." She looked over toward Henry, could feel the weight in the room's air. "Come up to my office, and I'll let you have a look at the file." She turned and with a nod toward Henry, walked up the stairs and out of the holding area.

Shawn stepped toward his father. "So, one minute, I'm in a cell for not cooperating with the police. Now all of a sudden, I've been hired to help solve the biggest case of the year? Curiouser and curiouser." He narrowed his eyes at his father.

Henry rolled his own. "Whatever, kid, just don't expect me to bail you out again."

Though his words sounded harsh and distant, Shawn could read the underlying approval. His father was glad that he had agreed. He nodded his head, "I didn't expect you to do it this time. But I appreciate you coming down. Maybe after this whole kidnapping thing is solved, we can have lunch." He looked away, trying to keep any affection from his voice, "You know, I can regale you with tales from the case."

A small smile crept up Henry's face. "You better get a move on it, Sherlock." Without another word, Henry turned and walked out, following Karen's path.

Shawn stood for a moment, looking around the room. Never in a million years would he have predicted this. He couldn't wait to call Gus, his best friend was never gonna believe this.