Disclaimer:

Shawn: I was reading this story myself. It doesn't pizzazz.

A/N: Okay, if you haven't already guessed that WB is Shawn, I'm scared for you and I know a great doctor that carries a HUGE needle just for you.

Chapter 3: Plane Tickets and Drowsiness and Shocking Surprises

June 22, 2014

Random POV

They woke up at 5:45, due to Dean's phone singing out "Hamster Dance." They hadn't consumed enough beer to have a hangover, though they did have a slight headache. They had breakfast and then got dressed. They dressed in their business suits. Dean had a black suit with a crisp, silk purple shirt; Patrick owned a medium-brown suit with a white, cotton shirt, Shawn also wore a black suit with a shiny, silk, green shirt, and Nathalie wore a white dress shirt made of polyester and cotton, a black suit jacket, and a knee-length black skirt. They all sported a pair of sneakers. They completely, absolutely refused to wear formal shoe ware. It wasn't good to run, dance, chase, hop, spin, bounce, or even comfortable enough to wear.

It was also a tradition to wear something related to pineapples. It was said they loved pineapple.

Shawn had a pineapple-patterned tie not at all clashing with his green shirt, Dean wore a golden watch with a pineapple on the face and green dials, Patrick had a green and yellow belt connected by two golden pineapple clasps, and Nathalie wore a pineapple necklace on a golden chain with a pair of matching pineapple earrings. Before they left Shawn took time to sculpt his hair to perfection and added some gel. It had changed over time due to his interests. It is always slicked back and curled with gel and it had a small white streak on the left side. It gave him the sophisticated, maybe evil or rich look. He smirked. He grabbed his brief case and threw it in the truck with the other bags.

They left around 6:35. They arrived at the station at 6:47 and walked inside. Shawn spotted the Chief first.

"Hi Chief Howie!" shouted WB, across the room.

"Hello Junior. Love the tie. How are you on this fine morning?" replied Chief Howie.

"Great, thanks! I love you hair today, not to stiff with a slight ruffle!" he shouted, running over.

"Thank you, but it will never beat yours."

Shawn beamed. His eyes were glistening with excitement and he looked refreshed and energized. The others envied him because no matter what, he still looked like he just woke up from a yearlong sleep. The others had small bags and loose cow-licks but not him.

"Excuse me Chief. I thought to inform you that we are ready and raring to go," said Patrick.

"Yah! We all packed, rested, and looking forward to the day!" exclaimed Dean, bouncing.

"Okay then, here are you tickets," said the Chief.

He handed one to Patrick and Dean, who took them politely. Nathalie received two tickets which she pocketed instantly. Shawn waited for his, hand outstretched. When the Chief just looked at it, he grew confused.

"Where's my ticket?" he asked.

"Nathalie has it," Chief said calmly.

"Why?" he asked, hands now in his pockets, stance leaned back, and eyebrows raised high.

Chief Howard sighed, rubbing his eyes. He looked up at Shawn.

"Junior, for someone who claims of possessing an eidetic memory, you seem to forget things quite easily. Remember we told you that you can't know where you're going. It should put you out of your comfort zone and maybe next time you'll think before you act."

"You can't be serious. Don't you think this is a little extreme?"

"Not yet it is," mumbled Dean, who received a slap to the back of the head.

They ignored his yelp of pain.

"Oh course I was serious. It's about time you were taught a lesson. You're always so prepared, in control, everything is mapped out," the Chief said, making hand quotes. "So you disregard protocol and do something reckless. And when you do something reckless, you face the consequences. This should put you in a position where everything isn't so under your control and maybe then you will think because I know you're a genius with a completely functional brain. You just need to learn to use it."

"I still don't…"

Dean must have found his shoes oddly fascinating by the way he was staring at them. Patrick walked off, not wanting to be caught up in the argument he knew was brewing under the surface. But Nathalie was having none of it.

"Shut UP! Shawn just… shut… up. This is for your own good. I don't want to hear any more complaints or God so help me, I…" she took a deep breath to calm herself and let it out slowly. "Just suck it up and let's go. We have a plane to catch and we can't afford to be late and miss it. Let's go. Bye Chief Howard, call you when we reach."

And with that, she grabbed Shawn's elbow and dragged him toward the door, calling Patrick and Dean over her shoulder. After parking the car into the police station lot, they transferred their bags to the trunk of a taxi they had waved down. Natalie climbed into the passenger, leaving the boys to squeeze in the back seat. The driver put the pedal to the metal and with tires squealing, the car roared off down the road. They were on their way.

Airport

The taxi dropped them off at 7:21. Their plane was to leave at 7:30 so they were early and had 9 minutes to spare. They were waiting in line to get through the security check. When everyone was through, they moved to the security check-out. After finally managing to convince the security guards on letting them carry their guns with them involving much persuasion, they made it to the waiting/ boarding lounge. Shawn flopped down into one of the chairs and closed his eyes, thinking.

I would be able to find out where we are going as soon as they announce our flight and we board.

Shawn felt something go over his eyes and tighten on the back of his head. He opened his eyes, he say nothing. Reaching a hand up to take the thing off, he had his hand slapped away. He tried again ending up with the same result as before.

"What is going on?" he asked hysterically, trying to get that thing blocking his vision off.

"Calm down Spence," said Patrick.

"What are you guys doing?"

"Putting non-see-through lens glasses on you," answered Dean.

"Why?" Shawn asked, bewildered, trying to take the glasses off again.

"This is all part of Chief Howard's idea," Nathalie slapped Shawn's hand again.

He looked at her, or at least tried to. He settled for guessing her location based off where the offending hand kept attacking him from.

"Come on Natalia! Don't you think this is a little extreme or maybe extremely extreme?"

"Nope!" she said, popping her p. "And it's Nathalie. Say it right or don't say it at all."

She pulled out of black earmuffs that looked like the over-sized headphones that computer techs wear. She popped them onto his ears, blocking all sounds but his own labored breathing in his head.

"Oh come on, Nats!"

They said didn't say anything or maybe they did, but Shawn couldn't hear a thing. He did fell three sets of hands, two one each shoulder and one on his back, and he was led to the terminal.

They went through the ticket check and finally boarded the plane. Shawn was led to a seat that was next to Nathalie's and he tried to get comfortable. Shortly after succeeding, he felt a cool, sweating glass pressed into his empty hand. Shawn tentatively brought it to his mouth and took a sip. Welcoming the sweet taste as what obviously was lemonade, he drank his slowly, enjoying the sweet, tangy taste. After finishing the drink, he leaned back and yawned.

At least I will be able to estimate the length of the ride *yawn* estimate… estimate *yawn* the time it… it takes, thought Shawn.

He yawned again and his eyelids suddenly felt like they weighed 100 pounds.

Why am I so… so tired? I had *yawn* a full night of *yawn* sleep. The only way I could feel is if… *yawn*

Shawn blinked slowly and yawned again.

… if I was… no they wouldn't… would they? No, they… they wouldn't… they…

Shawn eyes closed, his head resting against the window, and he started to snore, a little whistle with each exhale. Nathalie glanced over and smiled. She pushed a lock of stray hair and went back to her reading.

Many Hours Later

The plane soon landed and Patrick was the only one still awake. He had the habit of being alert at all times when in unfamiliar places or circumstances. Since he had a window seat and Dean blocked his way to the aisle, he nudged him and Dean woke up with a gasp.

"Are you okay?" Patrick asked concerned.

"Yes," Dean answered. "I was just having this epic dream."

Dean glanced around and realized the plane wasn't moving and people were getting up around them.

"We're here?"

"Yes. Can you wake Nats and WB?"

"Okay."

Dean stood and stretch. He heard his shoulder popped and he winced. Next time, he is bringing a pillow for his head instead of settling for his arm. Ignoring his sore, stiff, and aching shoulder and the momentary dizziness from standing too up fast, he entered the aisle and walked five rows up. There slept Nathalie and Shawn, the former leaning on the latter's shoulder drooling. Said latter had his arm around former's shoulder protectively. He snickered and pulled his phone out, taking three pictures for future "reference." He studied them and felt slight guilt and reluctance at waking them up and ruining such a cute, peaceful moment. Well, it was peaceful until Shawn let out a huge snore. Dean rolled his eyes and shook Natalie awake first.

She groaned, sat up, and blinked up at him blaringly, trying to process what is going on. Her eyes cleared as understanding and realization flooded in. She stretched, rolling her neck, and glanced at Shawn. Nathalie reached over and shook him gently, gaining no response. She tried again, this time harder.

"Go ahead, I'll wake him," Dean said finally after more failed attempts.

She cocked her head as if asking, "Are you sure?" and he nodded. She stood up and grabbed her and Shawn's small bags, exiting the cockpit with only one look back.

Dean scanned the surrounding area and saw that it was deserted. Patrick was gone too.

Dean sat down in the seat that Nathalie was occupying before. She poked Shawn's shoulder and cheek.

"WB, wake up," he said softly.

Gaining the same response Nathalie got from trying to shake him wake, he took matters into his own hand and lifted one of muffs carefully and yelled in Shawn's ear.

"HEY WB, WAKE UP! WE HAVE ARRIVED!"

WB jumped high and socked Dean in the face, causing him to fall to the ground and let go of the muff. Shawn moved his head around, starting to panic and reaching for the two items restricting his two of his senses, but Dean had already recovered and stilled those hands. He pulled lightly on Shawn's jacket, pulling him up and leading him off the plane into the lobby, meeting up with the other two.

"I got him," said Dean, grasping a confused and still tired Shawn.

Nathalie studied them.

"How did you wake him up?"

Dean smiled.

"I yelled in his ear."

"You yelled in his… you know what? I don't even want to know."

She glanced around the surrounding area.

"Now, where is our ride? Well, I am assuming they sent us someone. We can always take a taxi."

Patrick glanced around and spotted a sign reading, "NYPD," in an officer's possession.

"I think that's it," he said, pointing out the man. "That rookie's sign says NYPD. If that isn't us, I don't who else that is for."

"Okay, let's go."

Nathalie grabbed her and Shawn's bags and started heading toward the officer. Patrick glanced down at his stuff and looked up at Dean.

"Are we going to stop at a hotel first or we're just going straight to the station?"

Dean shrugged ad Patrick bent down, grabbing Dean's bags along with his.

"You lead Shawn. I'm carrying your stuff."

The men ran to catch up to Nathalie who was nearing the rookie. Said rookie was glancing around, looking bored, and his eyes landed on them. He studied them and then his eyes continued wandering the room. As they grew nearer, he focused on them again and frowned, an annoyed and irritated look passed over his face.

Officer Charles Reagans's POV

Reagans stood near the doors, waiting for the NYPD's star team to arrive. He glanced at his watch impatiently. The plane should have landed by then but no one has approached him yet. His "NYPD" sign was in plain sight, obvious to anyone walking by. He stood there studying the crowd as people exited the plane. The crowd thinned out and the few stragglers rushed off except for two people, a man and a woman. They seemed to be waiting for someone because they kept glancing back at the plane. Reagans continued scan the area. He turned looked to look back at the plane and saw the man and woman heading toward him with two new additions. The fair-haired one was holding on to the dark-haired man with the shades and headphones on, almost like he was leading him. Reagans studied them. They all were wearing fine suits, had luggage and all in all looked professional if it wasn't for the sneakers they were wearing.

Weird bunch of crazies most likely and maybe they stole those suits too, he mused.

He looked away.

Where are they? They should have gotten off by now.

Movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention. It was the weird group from before. They were heading right at him at a fast pace. He frowned.

What do they want?

They stopped in front of him and he scowled. An upset and wary expression passed over the woman's face.

"Hello," the woman said. She seemed to be the leader of the group.

"Hello, can I help you with something?" Reagans asked impatiently.

Confusion spread through the group. They exchanged glances and the black-haired man gestured toward his sign, sending quick whispers to the woman.

"Aren't you our ride?" she asked after sending speeded responses back to the man.

What? I'm not a taxi driver. Can't they read my sign?

"Your sign says NYPD," piped up the blond.

"Yah, so, what's it to you?" he shot back.

The black-haired man scowled and looked like he wanted to say something but the woman silenced him with a look.

"We're from the New York Police Department," she said slowly. "I'm Detective Franchez.

The brown-haired one said, "I'm Detective Reed."

"Detective Walkers," said the dirty-blondie.

Officer Reagans glanced at the last man who was silently looking around. As if sensing eyes on him, he stilled.

"Oh, and this is WB or Spence, choose one. Junior is reserved for the Chief only. He's a detective too," added Walkers.

"Do you have any ID or evidence of your claim?"

Franchez showed him her badge and he beckoned them to follow him. He led them to his cruiser and Franchez immediately climbed into the front. The men didn't even bat an eye as they all crowded into the back. Reagans looked back to see if they were all settled. The man, WB, was whining about not being able to function without his favorite two senses.

"What's his problem?" Reagans asked.

"Let's just say it's a form of… punishment," replied Franchez.

Dean snorted, "More like payback!"

"I've heard it both ways," Franchez shot back. "Great, now I sound like WB."

They almost drove in complete silence, except for the fact that that WB character was still complaining and Walkers started a quiet fight with Reed. Franchez was on the phone with their Chief. Reagans sighed.

"By the way, I'm Officer Charles Reagans," he said.

WB's POV

He felt the car moving and, minutes later, stop. WB was gripped be the arm, pulled out carefully, and led up a flight or two of stone stairs. He knew they passed through an entrance when he felt a blast of cold air on his face. He was aware of all the curious stares they received, practically feeling them drill into the back of his head.

I feel like an idiot, he thought.

Station's POV

Officer Reagans walked in, followed closely by a group of four, three men and one woman. One of the men had a pair of large headphones and dark glasses and was seemingly led by the woman. To everyone, he looked familiar. Everyone watched as the group was led into the Chief' office by Reagans, then he walked off.

Random POV

Nathalie pulled WB into the office and let him go, leaving the restrictions on still. The others filed in after her and Patrick closed the door lightly. Nathalie glanced at her watch with read 2:27. They were three minutes early. They studied the office and Patrick saw two leather seats. He pushed/lowered Shawn into one of them gently.

"Should we take them off now?" he asked.

"Sure, why not?" Nathalie said dismissively.

She collapsed in the next seat and half-watched Patrick pull off the earmuffs. When he reached for the glasses, he stopped and hesitated.

"Hey Spence, I'm going to take the glasses off. You might want to keep your eyes closed because you're not use to the light."

Patrick pulled the glasses off slowly and Shawn kept his eyes closed as suggested.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes."

What the assumed was the chief and two of her detectives chose that moment to walk into the room. The only male of the group closed it behind them.

"Hello, you must be the team from the…" the Chief's voice trailed off when Nathalie shifted positions to shake hands, giving everyone a full view of a blinking WB rubbing his eyes.

Shawn's Real POV

"Are you okay?"

"Yes," I answered.

After a few seconds, I opened my eyes. The lights were way too bright for my eyes and I ended up blinking rapidly, trying to adjust. I heard a door open and close in a span of seconds.

A person or small group must have entered then, I thought.

I rubbed my eyes but froze when I heard a voice I never expected to hear again. I forced my eyes open and confirmed what I knew was true.

"Chief Vick, I see, always a pleasure."