Not mine…

Psych

Gus had been sitting next to Vick, watching Henry pace back and forth trying to get a hold of Shawn. He couldn't exactly call his son's cell phone, the I-Phone sitting on Henry's kitchen table, but the ex-cop half hoped his son had gone back to his house. That he would answer, even if it was mostly a one sided conversation. But no one answered at Henry's house; something that unsettled Gus, even if it didn't surprise him.

"Damn it," the ex-cop whispered falling into a chair next to Gus.

"If he gets into trouble, I'm sure he'll call," Gus said quietly hoping he sounded more reassuring than he felt. He had a feeling new Shawn would just try and handle things on his own.

"No, the old Shawn would call. As for Shawn 2.0, well I have no idea actually." It's like he can read my mind, Gus thought knowing it was absurd, but still believing it.

"2.0?" Gus glanced at Henry, his eyebrows raised.

"Okay, more like .02," Henry murmured crossing his arms.

They noticed a doctor walking toward the group of cops, Vick standing at his approach. Before the doctor could open his mouth, before he could ask if the family of Carlton Lassiter were around, a great BOOM sounding from outside making the entire first floor shake. A few windows blew out, glass flying everywhere.

"What the hell was that," Henry and Gus said together getting to their feet, the lights briefly flickering before shining brightly once more.

Vick shook her head, barking at McNab and another uniform to check it out. They both rushed toward the exit, McNab's tagalong's black hair disappearing around the corner.

Gus began to count the seconds, his breath held in anticipation. Finally, after he reached sixteen, McNab reappeared around the corner saying, "Most of the parking lot blew up. Daniels is outside looking for anyone who might be injured."

"Juliet was out there," Gus exclaimed as Vick and several more officers broke into action. They raced outside, Gus, Henry, and a couple doctors hot on their heels.

The right side of the parking lot was like a warzone, along with a set of benches sitting on the sidewalk across from the hospital's entrance. Someone obviously set off some sort of bomb. Gus momentarily scanned the area, hoping to see Jules walking around the building looking confused. To his disappointment, and mortal fear, she was nowhere to be found.

"Come on," Henry barked pulling Gus away from the burning scrapheap that was once several cars and down the sidewalk.

"Where are we going," Gus snapped trying to pull out of the ex-cop's grasp. A loud siren could be heard coming around the corner-most likely the fire department responding to the explosion and the smoke billowing into the air.

"To find Shawn. If they find Detective O'Hara, I'm sure they'll call you."

"But we can't leave a crime scene." Henry had drilled those words into Gus's head, ever since he began trying to mold Shawn into a cop. "The shortest statement, the smallest witness, could be enough to make or break a case. Never leave a crime scene until you are told to do so," the ex-cop's voice echoed throughout Gus's head. Even now, after over two decades, he kept those words in mind.

"Something tells me we'll just get in the way and I have a feeling Shawn needs us more." And they continued running away from the building. About two blocks from the hospital, Gus half wishing they had driven his Echo instead of Juliet's Bug, Henry stopped and let Gus catch his breath.

"The Psych office is around here, right?" the ex-cop asked, glancing at the pharmaceutical rep. Gus nodded, keeping his hands on his knees, taking in gulps of air.

"You need to work out more," Henry commented barely winded. That baffled Gus the most, a fifty-plus year old man was hardly sweating, looking as if he were taking a stroll instead of a running, and him-in his early thirties-needed to take a breather. Life isn't fair.

"Come on," Henry said after a few more seconds and began running again. Gus felt it would be easier to hail a cab, ride the remaining three blocks, but had a feeling Henry would scoff at him and tell him to suck it up. So, deciding it was easier to suck it up, he followed the ex-cop.

"M…Mr. Spencer," Gus called glancing both ways before chasing him across the street, the crosswalk screen holding up an orange hand. We are going to end up with Lassiter, he thought wondering how the head detective was doing.

"Yeah, Gus," Henry called barely glancing over his shoulder.

"W…What makes you t…think Shawn w…will be a…at the Psych office," he gasped out clutching his side.

"It's a start," Henry snapped back and skidded to a halt at a second crosswalk, waiting for a black convertible to pass. As bad as the day had been going, Gus was surprised the sun was shining at all. He watched the blond drive by darkly thinking, Lucky bastard.

Henry had begun running again, already a good ten feet ahead of Gus. He's like the Energizer Bunny. He just keeps going and going and going. Doesn't he have a bad hip or something? Wondering if his lungs were about to explode, regretting the thought the moment he had it, the pharmaceutical rep pushed himself harder and attempted to catch the ex-cop. Finally, air an almost distant memory, they reached the office.

The glass had been replaced, Gus glancing into the office. The TV was still leaning against the wall, something that partially surprised him. It's not like he really believed they would steal the television, it was a big screen and they probably didn't have the vehicle to do so.

"You got the keys," Henry asked breaking into Gus's thoughts. And they locked the door, too. Man, we are definitely calling that company again. "Gus," the ex-cop's voice was full on warning now.

"Yeah," Gus said rushing toward the door. He pulled his keys from his pocket, putting them in the lock. He put his hand on the doorknob, ready to open the door. Until three seconds later, door four inches open, Henry grabbed him and pulled him to the side. A loud bang erupted through the air, blowing the door off its hinges.

PSYCH

It's not like Shawn had never saved her before, it wasn't even the tenth time, but never before had he been so paranoid afterwards. Juliet remembered everything so clearly. The man was waving at her, telling her good-bye. He had been smiling, a smile that chilled her bones. She would have moved if she hadn't been frozen in fear. She was vaguely aware of someone calling her name, and then she was tackled. She fell from the bench, landing feet from it with a bone jarring crash.

She had been pulled to her feet and dragged from the bench. Her and her rescuer had turned the corner when she heard the explosion, it had made her jump. The hand clutching hers, somehow so familiar, didn't let go as he continued to run.

They had run for a good twenty minutes before she was pushed into a small café. She was dragged to the back of the place, a familiar voice saying, "Sit down before you fall." Jules complied, settling into one of the black chairs, her body trembling slightly.

"What the hell," she said quietly through numb lips, Shawn sitting across from her. He kept glancing at the door, almost like he was waiting for someone. "Shawn," she snapped, causing his hazel eyes to land on her. "What was that…? Did someone try to…?"

"Yes," he murmured glancing at the door again. A waitress noticed them and walked over to them. Before she could ask for their order, Shawn hurriedly said, "Can you give us a minute?" taken back, she nodded and scurried away.

"Is that why Carlton…?"

"Yes," the psychic replied glancing back at her. "It's Darrel Bennett's boss. He's the one coming after us."

"Us?"

"Everyone who worked on Bennett's case. Lassiter, you, me…"

"Gus," Juliet interrupted in a whisper.

"Gus?" Shawn smacked himself in the head, going pale. Jules felt her own fear, for the pharmaceutical rep, spike. But Gus was okay, he wasn't stupid enough to walk into a trap. "Jules?" she snapped back to reality, Shawn giving her a worried look.

"Yeah," she said quietly, trying to staunch the shaking of her hands. She clasped them in her lap, starting to feel cold.

"Here," Shawn said handing her his jacket. She shrugged it on, as the psychic asked, "Can I borrow your phone. I need to call Gus…"

"Yeah." Juliet dug her phone from her pocket, not sure she really wanted it back, and handed it to her friend. Shawn took it, flipped it open, and punched in a number. Jules watched him, pulling his jacket more tightly around her. It smelt like his sweat, making her wonder how far he ran to help her. It couldn't have been that far, she had left the hospital probably ten minutes after him. Just thinking of the hospital made her shiver. She could have seriously been hurt, maybe even killed. Just like Abigail. Carlton could have woken up, after his long surgery, only to find she was gone. She shuddered again, once again wishing she had become a teacher.

"You okay," Shawn asked hanging up seconds after talking to Gus. Jules nodded, knowing if she opened her mouth she'd blow chunks all over the table. "That was a stupid question," the psychic murmured after a few seconds. "Of course you aren't okay. Far from it, actually. I mean, physically you are, but mentally… It's not every day you nearly get blown up." he was babbling, a true sign the real Shawn was in there, somewhere, trying to break free. "I mean, if I wasn't there to… to help you…you'd be…" he let his voice trail off, his face going slightly gray.

"Is Gus okay," Jules asked, changing the subject before Shawn puked. She didn't want to puke, but knew if he puked she would puke and the whole place would smell like puke and… I'd really better stop with the puke filled thoughts, she thought shaking her head.

"He's on his way. Told me I had some explaining to do."

"You do, actually," Jules confirmed old anger rearing its ugly head. "Starting with why you wanted that car to hit you. You do realize Carlton is in the hospital because of you…"

"I know, Jules. I was in the ambulance behind his," Shawn replied rubbing his temples. The bruise, across his head, didn't look any better. Juliet was sure he had a headache, having had a few concussions in her life.

"Did you take anything," she asked quietly.

"What?" he lowered his hands, trying to act nonchalant. "I'm fine," he said sounding as convincing as a three dollar bill.

"Sure you are," Juliet said skeptically, especially when he kneaded his forehead with his right palm. "I'm sure the waitress can…"

"Don't worry about me," Shawn snapped. He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly, and said in a forced calm voice, "How are you doing? You still cold?"

"No," she replied feeling warmer with his jacket on. Almost like he had his arms around her… And I am so not going there right now. She had a feeling he caught her look, could read her thoughts on her face, when he flashed her a curious look. But before he could comment on it the doors opened and his face went back to brooding.

Juliet turned around, catching a glimpse of Gus and… that explains the brooding… Henry. Both walked toward their table, Gus practically running when he noticed Jules.

"Oh thank God," he said and yanked her out of her seat, into a tight hug. It took a few seconds to realize she couldn't breathe. "Gus," she murmured gently pushing him. He quickly let her go, silently saying, "Sorry."

"Are you okay," Henry asked his son, sitting next to him.

"Yeah," Shawn replied with barely controlled disdain. Juliet could tell it took all his self-control not to rub his forehead, again. He was far from okay, but he wasn't about to go whining about it. She had to give him credit; even Lassiter had a breaking point when it came to pain. Shawn surprises me every day, she thought, and not for the first time, either.

"Good," Gus snapped, seeing what Jules saw but having enough sense not to press it. He sat down, Jules copying him, and continued, "Now that we know you two are alive, you can explain why I was almost shot."

"What?" both Jules and Shawn exploded. Three heads turned their way-both waitresses, and a customer-but neither one paid them any attention. They were glancing at Gus with barely concealed fear and disbelief on their faces.

"Mr. Spencer and I went to the Psych office, hoping to find you," Gus started glancing at Shawn. "I unlocked the door, but before I could open it any further than a few inches, Mr. Spencer heard the click of a gun and yanked me out of the way. The damn door was blown off its hinges."

Shawn kneaded his forehead, again, obviously getting more and more stressed by the moment. The headache, he was hiding, wasn't helping either. He glanced up at his dad and Gus and said, "I want this son of a bitch gone."

"Who," Gus and Henry said together. Jules thought she knew who he was talking about, but apparently was wrong when Shawn said, "Samson Mahoney."

"Kid, who's that," Henry asked his eyebrows rising in cautious curiosity.

Shawn took a deep breath, obviously coming to some unknown decision Jules didn't even try to figure out, and slowly began talking. When he finished, Juliet couldn't help thinking, Shawn, what on earth have you gotten yourself into.