Shawn awoke, shivering. He was curled into the fetal position on the couch in the Psych office. A blanket had been draped over his body, and the office was silent, except for the sound of rain drumming steadily on the window pane.

"Gus?" he asked in a nasally voice. The office echoed an eerie silence. He groaned and tucked the blanket around him tighter, letting his head drop back down onto the armrest. A note was on the remote. Reaching out a shaky hand he grasped it and read.

Shawn,

I went home after Spongebob ended. You missed some good episodes. Anyway, I would have offered you a ride home, but your bike is outside. I put it inside for you and locked the door. keep it locked! You don't want a repeat of what happened in Canada do you?

Gus

Shawn smirked and crumpled the note up. Suddenly his phone rang loudly, causing him to nearly jump out of his skin. After writhing awkwardly on the couch for a moment as he dug in his pocket, he answered.

"ello…?"

"Spencer? Sweet Justice, what happened to you?" Lassie asked, biting back a chuckle.

"I think its jus' a cold. I 'ope its jus' a cold." Shawn replied.

"I hope its not."

"Thanks for the compassion." Shawn growled, rolling his eyes.

"Well, since you sick, I'll just tell O'Hara you can't work the case."

"Wait! No! Lassie, I'm not that sick!" As if on cue, Shawn punctuated that sentence with a sneezing coughing fit.

"Well. I'll admit you sound like the picture of health," Lassiter said sarcastically. "I've already wasted enough of my breath talking to you. Good-bye."

"Nooooooooooooooo!" Shawn moaned. To late. The line went dead. Pouting he sat up right and sneezed three times. Grabbing a box of tissue he blew his nose loudly.

"That's disgusting." a voice echoed in the room. Shawn jumped and looked up, seeing Gus standing in the doorway he relaxed.

"Hi."

"Hey," Gus said setting a pizza box on his desk.

Shawn's face lit up, "Gus you brought me pizza. I will love you forever now. Give me a hug!" Shawn teased Gus and stood up unsteadily, opening his arms.

"Get away from me, Shawn!" Gus said eyes widening. Shawn staggered toward him.

"I'm serious! Get back! Do you have any idea how much bacteria is coating your skin right now?!" Shawn was within touching distance now. Gus seeing no escape shrieked, "GET AWAY!" he grasped a book and flung it at Shawn. In his sluggish, sickened state he could not dodge it in time and it smacked him in the forehead. Shawn let out a yelp and grabbed at his head.

Gus laughed.

Shawn stumbled into the bathroom and looked in the mirror. A bruise was already forming. He moaned as a headache was coming on, from the cold not getting hit in the head with a book, and walked back out slumping down on the couch.

"How many slices, Shawn?" Gus asked.

"Two! No! ten!" Shawn called back as he pulled the blanket around his shoulders.

"Two it is." Gus handed him a plate. Shawn dove into the pizza hungrily, he hadn't eaten all day and I was already 3:33pm.

"So," Gus asked after he swallowed a mouthful of pineapple pizza, "You got woken up at 3 in the morning, had you coffee thrown away by Lassie, got soaked, scratched your bike up, caught the flu, and now have a giant bruise forming in the middle of your forehead. 'Sure there's no such thing as Shawn Spencer having a bad day?"

"Guth, itsh like I've been telling you," Shawn said with his mouthful, "I believe everyday is a gift and shall be treated as such. Ish that root beer?"

Gus rolled his eyes and shook his head. Shawn would never learn. Gus then got up and disappeared into the bathroom. He emerged a moment later with a fistful of anti-bacterial wipes.

"Dude, seriously?" Shawn asked.

"Yes, Shawn. From just the little time you've been here, you managed to infect everything. And I, for one, am not getting sick." he ran frantically around the room, disinfecting everything. Now it was Shawn's turn to roll his eyes.

The phone rang.

"I got it!" Shawn went to jump up, but became lightheaded and plopped back down with a nauseated groan.

"Don't you dare throw up on this carpet, Shawn." Gus warned over his shoulder and strode out of the room to answer the phone.

"Don't worry, Gus, buddy," Shawn said squeezing his eyes shut and cradling his head in his palms, "If I throw up I'll be sure its on your desk."

A second later Gus came flying around the corner, eyes wide.

"Gus I was jus' jo-" Shawn started.

"Shawn, we gotta go, now!"

"What? Gus whats wrong?" he asked alarmed.

"We gotta go, now, Shawn!" Gus lunged over and jerked Shawn roughly to his feet. Pushing Shawn out the door and into the blueberry, he gunned the car and sped out of the parking lot, tires squealing. Shawn hit the door roughly and cried out in pain, clutching his shoulder.

"Gus! What the hell is wrong with you?!" Shawn yelled angrily, sniffing loudly to prevent his inflamed nose from running.

Gus didn't even have to answer. In the rearview mirror, a black SUV skidded into view, and pursued after them.

"Who is that?" Shawn asked eyes wide.

"Your remember that girl we busted who murdered that British scholar and then started stalking you?" Gus said quickly.

"Gus, 'stalked' is such a unfriendly word."

"Its not supposed to be friendly! If someone is stalking you, its obviously not a 'friendly' thing!"

"Well, I prefer to say… watched from a very close distance. Not 'stalked'. Stalked. Uhhhh." Shawn shuddered, "I just gave myself the chills with that word."

Gus glared, "THAT'S HER SHAWN!" he yelled, tossing his head toward the van. The back window of the blueberry shattered, sending glass shards sailing through the air. Several more gunshot's split the air, and Shawn screamed, "Look out Gus!" as the SUV pulled up beside them. Gus swerved, and lost control, the car rolling down the road before coming to a stop upside down in a ditch. The SUV's tires skidded as it drove away, but the blueberry, was oddly silent.