For a moment, I didn't say anything.
What was I supposed to say?
We stood there, silently staring at each other as the sun beat down on our heads and the cool water washed over our feet. I could feel a sharp pebble digging into my heel as I anchored my feet in the damp sand, but I didn't care.
It didn't hurt.
Finally, after a solid three minutes of silence, I decided there just wasn't anything left to say. I turned around and started to walk away without another word.
It was the third time that day I had tried to walk away from Shawn Spencer…
When was I going to learn it just wasn't possible?
I only got two steps this time before his soft, even voice stopped me once again.
"You never asked me why."
I slowly turned back around, though I did everything I could to avoid looking him in the eyes.
"What?" I asked as if I hadn't heard every word, my eyes peering through the crystal clear water by my feet, searching for the pebble I had been stepping on moments ago.
I didn't find it.
I didn't really try all that hard. I just couldn't look at those eyes…
Shawn took a slow, deliberate step back, wading up to his ankles in the gently undulating waves.
"You never asked me why I lied." He repeated, following my line of sight into the water, almost like he was searching for the pebble with me. "I didn't just wake up one morning and walk into the police station claiming to be a psychic, Jules. Aren't you supposed to ask me why I did it? Isn't that part of the whole cop-training thing?"
He rubbed his bruised arm again, though it was just for dramatic effect this time.
I hadn't hit him again.
"You got the beating a confession out of your suspect part down, though…" he murmured. "If you hit me again, I'd confess to the Kennedy assassination. Of course…I wasn't born yet, so I don't think it would hold up in court…"
I rolled my eyes and cut him off.
"I didn't beat a confession out of you." I informed him. "I beat you after you confessed. There's a difference."
"True," he laughed. "You got the order wrong that time."
"I didn't get the order wrong, Shawn." I snapped. "I hit you when you deserved it."
"Okay." He conceded with a careless shrug. "You didn't get the order wrong…but aren't you going to ask me why?"
I sighed and took another step towards him, suddenly feeling that same pebble under my foot again…digging into my skin…
I could already feel the dime-sized indentation it was going to leave.
Maybe even a scar…
"Why?" I asked finally, already regretting it.
I didn't want to know why.
It didn't matter why.
All that mattered was the lie.
All I could think about was the lie…
"They thought I robbed some store." He told me quietly. "I called in a tip…the information was good. They thought I was working with the guy and turned on him. You know how much Lassie likes me now….well, imagine how much he liked me when he thought I was a thief. I couldn't get him to believe I was just that damn good…so I made up some story about being a psychic. And they bought it."
I blinked in surprise, finally looking up from the water and into Shawn's face.
"You didn't have to keep it up for seven years." I said. "You didn't have to keep working on cases and open Psych…"
"True." He nodded, grinning. "But it was too much fun to quit. Come on, Jules. You have to admit. It's been a hell of a lot of fun."
For the first time that day, I actually allowed myself to smile.
Just a little…
"Yeah." I admitted reluctantly. "It's been fun."
"That's why I did it. Because it's a hell of a lot of fun. Well…and the almost getting arrested thing."
I nodded slowly.
Finally, it made sense.
Well, as much sense as anything Shawn said ever made…
"Anyway." He shrugged. "That's it, I guess. That's all I wanted to say. Do whatever you have to do, Jules. I don't care. I just wanted you to ask why."
He turned on his heel, and for the first time, Shawn Spencer walked away from me.
As I watched him walk up the beach, his figure slowly disappearing into the sun, I didn't know what to think.
And I still didn't have a damn clue what I was going to do.