Alright, so everyone pretty much agreed on this. So, I present to you the second part of this (now) two-shot.


Jules was furious, and everyone knew it. They could tell by the way she stormed over to her desk, the frosty silence, the way she snapped at Buzz for no reason. People also noted that their resident psychic consultant was MIA.

Jules knew that Chief Vick hadn't told the rest of the department of Shawn's lie. She wanted to keep things under wraps for as long as possible. Unfortunately, with a department full of people trained to notice the smallest of details, this would be no easy feat. By now, everyone was used to the "psychic" walking in on a whim and completely stirring everything up. The fact that he wasn't there wouldn't escape their notice.

Jules, on the other hand, was getting annoyed by the stares people were giving her. Yes, she was irritable and grumpy, but they'd all dealt with Lassiter's moodinss long before this. She hated it. She hated feeling like a caged animal. Above all, though, she couldn't seem to get over Shawn's lie.

"I'm Psychic."

How stupid she was to have believed him! And for so long too. How could she have not seen the truth while it was right under her nose? It was her job to read people. To know what they were thinking. To be able to call a bluff. To detect a lie when she heard it. So how had she missed this one?

'Because I trusted him,' She thought bitterly. Carlton had even warned her that all romance ended in dispair. She should have listened.

"O'Hara!" Chief Vick's voice jolted her from her thoughts. "In my office. Now." Jules reluctantly stood up and followed the chief back into the small office.

"Yes, Chief?"

"I'm sure you are aware that Mr. Spencer and Mr. Guster have closed Psych, correct?" Jules nodded stiffly. Of course they would. After their secret got out to everyone, Psych would be under scrutiny by the entire public. It was better that it closed down now.

"Are you also aware that Mr. Spencer came by here last night?" Confusion flashed across Juliet's face for a second before she hid it again. Why would Shawn come here? He didn't work for them anymore, and if he been looking for her, he knew she would be at the apartment.

"What time was he here?"

"Just after 10:30." Jules's eyebrows furrowed together. That was after she had kicked Shawn out of the apartment. Why had he come here if he wasn't looking for her?

"Chief, did-"

"He said he was coming to say goodbye. Other than the obvious reason, is there any reason at all that you can think of that would lead him to come here to 'say goodbye'?"

"No, Chief," Jules said. "What is this about?"

"Mr. Guster came in this morning with a very... strange voice mail from Mr. Spencer." The chief hit a button on a recorder sitting on her desk. Static crackled through the speakers for a second, and then Shawn's voice filled the room.

"Hey, Buddy." His voice was soft and serious, nothing like it normally was. "I really, really hope you don't get this until at least 8:00 am. That way I might have a hope of getting a decent head start." He sighed.

"I'm so sorry for doing this to you again. I really am. But you can't say you didn't see this coming. You know me too well for your own good. You knew this would happen as soon as Psych closed. I could see it in your eyes.

I left you an envelope of money that should cover the rent payments for the rest of the lease. After that, you know what to do. I promise you, this will not be the last time you hear from me. Not like last time. Maybe I'll even drop by a few times. Who knows? Anyway, I guess I'll be seeing you. And please, don't tell Jules. She's already gone through enough this week. She doesn't need this on top of it.

"Goodbye, Gus."

Juliet closed her eyes, trying to hide the tears that were beginning to well up in her eyes. A million questions raced through her mind. Shawn was gone? Gone where? Why was he gone?

Was she the reason he left?

"Chief," she whispered. "Chief, we got into a fight last night. He said that maybe he should leave, and I thought he meant the apartment. I didn't know he meant leave for good..." Chief Vick sighed and ran a hand down her face, debating whether she should tell her Junior Detective about the box Shawn had left.

"O'Hara, listen to me. When Shawn came by here last night, he left something in the top drawer of you desk. I want you to go get it, and then take the rest of the day off. If what I suspect Shawn left is correct, you'll need it." Juliet nodded and turned to leave.

"And O'Hara?" Jules turned to face the chief again. "Tell Lassiter to relax. And I'm sorry." She nodded again and closed the door quietly behind her.

Crossing the room, she noticed that Carlton kept glancing nervously over his shoulder, as if he expected the fake psychic to come waltzing through the doors and turn his day completely upside down. No one knew how much Jules wanted for that to happen now.

She squeezed past Lassiter to her desk and yanked the drawer open with more force than was really necessary. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary until she shuffled through its contents a bit. After digging through it for a few seconds, she caught sight of a piece of paper with Shawn's messy scrawl on it. Her eyes scanned the note, and she suddenly fell backwards into her chair, much to the alarm of her partner. Still clutching the note, she buried her face in her hands.

I'm sorry. Please forgive me. I love you. Don't forget us.

Shawn

Four sentences. Twelve total words. Fifteen syllables. That was all it took to steal her breath and shatter her world to tiny, microscopic pieces.

He was really gone, then. He was gone, and it was doubtful that he would ever be back. Jules knew instinctively that he would make it next to impossible to find him, too. You'd have to be psychic. She almost laughed out loud at that thought. How ironic.

Suddenly she was aware of Lassiter and Buzz asking her if she was alright. Demanding seemed more accurate. She wasn't positive what she answered, but it got them off her back, at least.

"Get the chief. Now." Lassiter's voice was deathly calm, yet authoritive. He knelt beside her, rubbing small circles on her back. She felt gratitude towards her partner. Her loyal, protective partner. If there was one thing she was sure of, it was that Carlton Lassiter would never hurt her willingly.

"What happened?" she heard the chief demand.

"I don't know. She just fell into her chair and started sobbing." Was she really sobbing? How had she not noticed? How odd...

She found herself rising to her feet and walking past everyone that had gathered around her desk. Out the door. Past her car. No one followed her or tried to stop her. She wasn't sure where she was going. To be honest, she didn't really care either.

She felt utterly empty. No, it was more than that. She was hollow and broken. There was only one person who could pick un the pieces and fix her. And he had vanished last night without a trace. She knew he most likely wouldn't be coming back. Ever.


Jules didn't open the box right away. She decided to save it for the day she truly hit rock bottom. But, for now, she went through the motions and acted like she was fine, and that nothing was abnormal. She didn't know when the day she opened the box would come, but when her darkest hour did come, she would be prepared. She kept the note in her wallet for the days she thought would never end.

He co-workers would say that she had become obsessed with pineapple. She'd begun to use Shawn's favorite brand of pineapple scented shampoo, and she always had pineapple flavored chapstick on hand. She always kept a fresh pineapple in the apartment. And she always treated herself to a pineapple smoothie whenever they closed a case.

After a particularly long and stressful day about three weeks after Shawn left, Jules was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to curl up on her couch and watch a movie. As soon as she entered the apartment, she tossed her keys on the counter... and found that her pineapple was missing. All thoughts of her horrible day flew out of her mind as her heart leapt up into her throat.

"Shawn?" she called, stepping through the doorway into the living room. "Shawn? Are you here? Where are you?" She tore the the apartment, thoroughly searching each and every room. She opened every closet and checked under every piece of furniture, all the while howling Shawn's name. It was only after she had checked the entire apartment that she remembered that she'd had to throw the pineapple out this morning and hadn't had time to buy a new one. She sank to her knees on her bedroom floor.

"Shawn," she moaned, gripping her head between her fists. "Where are you?"

Jules dove towards her bedside table, grabbing for the drawer where she kept the box safely stored. She pawed through its contents before she finally found it. She ripped through the tape with her nails, pulled back the cardboard flaps, turned the package upside down and shook the contents into her hand. He breath hitched in her throat as she stared at the item in her palm.

It was a tiny velvet box.

She kenw what was in it. Anyone would. She opened it anyway, but was shocked to find that the ring she had been expecting wasn't there. Instead, a small oval-shaped locked was nestled there. the light from the window relfected off its smooth surface as she turned it over in her hand. Finally, her curiosity got the best of her, and she nearly started crying when she saw the inside.

The words 'Marry me?" were engraved on the left side. On the right side was a picture of Shawn on one knee, holding out a ring.

Maybe it wasn't the most traditional way to propose, but then again, Shawn had never done things the traditional way. This way was much more unique, something that was so... Shawn.

She climbed into her too-big bed and curled her fist around the locket. She didn't want to be the only person to put the locket around her neck. She wanted Shawn to be here, kneeling in front of her, asking her to marry her in person. Not from wherever he was currently. She wanted him to hear her say yes, wanted for him to scoop her up and hold her close and kiss her like he'd never see her again. She wanted to hear him call her beautiful again.

She wanted her life back.


One more? Or is that overkill?