So, not too much time between updates this time. A lot less than regular, anyways. :P There shouldn't be too many more chapters to this. One or two, perhaps. Yay. Thank you for reviewing last, chapter, those of you who did. It means a lot.

Disclaimer: I do not own the wondrous Psych. If I did, guess what I would be doing right now? Making more seasons of Psych.

The couple watched their captor closely, nervousness clawing at Juliet's gut. She pressed her hand further onto Shawn's torso, but he was so intent on watching the man he didn't seem to feel it. He gnawed his bottom lip, brow furrowed in concentration. Their lives were at stake here. If the code didn't work, there was a good chance Juliet wasn't getting out of here.

He already knew he wouldn't, either way.

The man's eyebrows popped up and a smile flickered onto his face, so quick if Juliet hadn't been paying close attention she wouldn't have seen it.

"Well, Mr. Spencer, it seems you didn't lie about your talents," the man proclaimed. "Well done."

"It worked?" Shawn sounded shocked.

"Yes, actually, it did. Now, to bypass a few firewalls and other minor distractions…" The man motioned to Juliet's former seat. "If you please, Detective."

Juliet and Shawn's eyes locked, her stomach plummeting. "B-but we got you the code-" she stammered out, her hands starting to tremble. If she was going to die, she wanted it to be by Shawn's side, not in some wooden chair where she would have a front row seat to his execution. Besides, how could they plan an escape if she was all the way over there? Surely the man would figure out their Morse code trick, and uncover any plots they might make.

"Yes, you got me a code that seems to work," she was cut off, "but it could be a trick. Come sit here, where I can keep an eye on you, until I know that it truly is the right code."

"That…that is ab-absolutely ridiculous," Shawn blustered, albeit a bit breathlessly. "We got you the code, now-"

He was interrupted by the gun leveled at Juliet's forehead, and her boyfriend heaved an angry sigh, his breath hitching as his diaphragm contracted.

"I wouldn't push my luck," the man snapped. "That is, unless you want your girlfriend's brain splattered over your body, in which case, continue talking."

Shawn ground his teeth in anger, but held his tongue. Even he, with his conniving ways and witty manner, knew when the tension was too high to worm his way around his opponent. And at the moment, the tension in the room was so thick it was highly possible to cut it with a warm butter knife.

"You got this?" Juliet questioned, easing the pressure on his torso. Shawn winced, but covered hers with his own and nodded. He licked his bloodstained lips and snaked the other hand free of its place on his thigh to gently pull her in for one last kiss.

Because, if they did nothing, that was what it would be. He knew it. She knew it.

Her trembling lips met his, and it was with great difficulty that she kept her tears at bay. She sighed as she sank into his embrace, his comforting heat temporarily holding her fears at bay. They finally broke their kiss, but Shawn kept his hand cupping her cheek. Their foreheads touched, tips of their noses close enough to swap sweat. He whispered to her, "Be ready." Then, in a louder voice, said, "I love you, okay?"

Biting her lip to keep from sobbing, she inhaled deeply before managing a weak, "Okay." She stood up and made her way over to the rickety wooden chair she had come to hate in the last few hours. Even though she was exhausted, angry, grief stricken, and, to top it all, confused, thanks to Shawn, she refused to let her captor beat her down. Her back was ramrod straight as she stared him in his steely eye.

The man handed her his laptop, keeping his gun trained on her. "When I give the signal, type in what I tell you to. They're quite simple firewalls, if you're trained, as I am."

"Are you kidding? These look insane," she countered as she encountered a flashing screen.

"Please," he answered breezily, "I've been trained. This is nothing."

"Okay, well, you'd better tell me what to do," she told him, "Or it looks like we'll get blocked out."

As the man instructed her easily on what to type on the keyboard, out of the corner of her eye she saw silent movement. Her breath caught in her chest as she realized Shawn was slowly edging closer to the pair. No, no, no! she internally screamed at him. What are you doing?! On the outside, however, she kept up a calm façade, knowing that to expose him now would mean certain death.

Shawn slowly, ever so slowly, made his way along the bottom of the wall, exhaling through his teeth as even the slightest movement sent pain ripping through his body. His face was screwed in a perpetual grimace, but he continued on his way, even as Juliet's eyes watched his warningly. By some miracle, he found that as Juliet and the man worked on any firewalls they came up against, he found himself about a foot away from the door. He was about to slide ever closer when a firm voice accosted him.

"Be warned, Mr. Spencer, make one more move and it will be the last you ever do."

Shawn swore under his breath. Dammit, he was found out. Well, there was nothing left for it. He struggled to his feet and lunged for the door, his bad leg buckling under his weight. He fell to the door with a cry of pain, agony lighting him on fire as his wounds were jarred. He hadn't even made it to the stairs!

Footsteps stomped towards him, and despite his struggles he was lifted upwards by the collar of his shirt as easily as if he were a Pomeranian. He coughed as his windpipe was squeezed, and met the fiery eyes of his kidnapper.

"I've had just about enough of you, Mr. Spencer," the man growled. "I believe I have what I need. I don't need you any longer." His hand grabbed Shawn by the throat and squeezed, his mighty grip lifting Shawn off the ground until not even his toes touched. He kicked and struggled feebly, black spots dancing in front of his eyes as his hands grasped at the man's coat and shirt, anything to lend him a hand. It wasn't as if he had enough air already, and to add the fact his air supply was completely cut off was not good. He managed to choke out one last, "Suck it!" before the black tingeing the corners of his vision completely overcame him and he went limp.

What the hell was Shawn doing? Juliet looked around frantically for a weapon to use against the man as he choked her boyfriend, his focus off her for a few precious seconds. He had taken the gun with him, there was no sharp objects…blunt, however, was a different story. Making a split second decision, she tore the cord out of the computer and raced over to him. Adrenaline pumped through her veins, leaving her wrist with no pain as she brought it smashing down onto the big man's head. He hollered in pain and dropped Shawn into a limp heap on the floor. Pieces of broken plastic were stuck in his head and blood gushed out as he rounded on her, but she snatched up a chair and brought it soundly underneath his chin, sending his staggering. She searched for another weapon, but his recovery time was remarkable, and his hand met her mouth in a weighty punch. She fell backwards, tasting blood in her mouth from a split lip, and scrabbled along to ground to evade his meaty form.

He snatched her ankle and yanked her forward, her slim form not able to do much against his strength. He knelt over her, large paws grasping her throat. She threw her hardest punches against his arms, chest, face, anywhere with skin, but she was no match for him. He squeezed tightly, cutting off her air circulation. She struggled and writhed against him, but he had her pinned.

"I grow tired of your games, detective," he ground out, crushing her throat harder. "Enough!"

Her hands reached out, scrabbling along the cement for anything to use against the brute. There was nothing, nothing! Black crowded her vision, and it seemed all hope was lost. At least she'd be with Shawn, soon.

That is, until her fingers grasped something long and rubbery.

The computer cord.

In one fluid motion, she yanked the computer cord from its plug in the wall and flung it over his back, grasping it with her other. Slightly guessing as to where his neck was, her sight impeded by a black mass forming, she looped it around his skin and pulled as hard as she could. He let off her with a gag and grasped at the cord, attempting to pull it off, but rage lent strength to her muscles and she only pulled all the more. He reared up, hands pawing at his neck, and she used to action to knee him in the groin. He buckled, and she squeezed even harder, his face turning a bright purple. His tongue poked out of his mouth, his lungs gasping for breath, but they found none. His fists trembled, hanging onto the rope as blood trickled down his neck, but Juliet hung on. He wheezed and choked for a few seconds, but eventually began to go limp.

Juliet used it to her advantage, letting go of the cord and lunging for the gun that had slid to the floor in their scuffle. As he gasped, chest heaving, he unsteadily stood up and reared for her, hands clumsily grasping for any part of her he could grab in his daze.

She planted her feet on the floor, and as he was about to slam his fist into her head, she leveled the gun and pulled the trigger. Once, twice, three times.

The man staggered backwards, a shocked look on his face. "You-you shot me," he observed in a wondering tone as blood bubbled out of his lips. His gaze traveled down to the bullet in his collarbone, in the middle of his chest, and in his left pectoral.

She made no response.

His legs shook. "Well done, detective," he slurred, and collapsed in a heap on the floor. Juliet took the opportunity to empty the rest of the gun into his flesh.

She stood in silent wonder for a moment, hardly able to comprehend the fact that the man was dead. He was dead. They weren't going to die today. The country was safe. She and Shawn would be able to go-Shawn!

She dropped the gun and ran to his side, falling to her knees. "Shawn, Shawn, Shawn," she repeated frantically, hands grasping his limp body and turning him over. "Stay with me, babe, stay with me!" She propped him against the wall and shook his shoulders, terror lending her wings. "Shawn!"

A light cough met her efforts, and his eyelids fluttered. His head lolled to side, and she lightly slapped the side of his cold, pale, face. "Shawn?"

He let out a low moan and opened his unfocused eyes. She had never been more happy to see them, glazed and confused though they may be. "Stay awake, Shawn, okay?" she ordered, pressing her hand over his torso wound as hard as she could. He let out a quiet cry and arched his back, trying to back away from the fire in his gut. "Shh, shh shh shh, it's okay, don't struggle," she calmed him, a lump blocking her throat. She gave a weak smile to reassure him. "It's okay."

He grimaced and fumbled in his pocket, hands shaking as they rummaged for something. Juliet was about to prompt him to stay still when his trembling hand placed a green electronic in her lap.

"Your phone?" she whispered. "How did you-"

"I still got…a few…tricks…up my sleeve," he managed breathlessly, chest heaving. He gave her one of his trademark smirks before his eyelids dropped closed and his head bowed over his chest.

"Shawn!" she yelled, smacking his face. He cracked an eye open and rolled his head to an upright position, much as it seemed to pain him. He breathed heavily, blood flowing out around Juliet's fingers in a seemingly never ending stream. Tears filled her eyes as she watched it. She couldn't do this. She couldn't do this!

Shawn's brow furrowed, and he tilted his head slightly. He brought a shaking thumb to her face, set it awkwardly on her bottom lip, and brushed it to the side, smearing blood and dirt over her skin. Apparently Juliet's split lip did not sit well with Shawn. Juliet let loose a weak chuckle, but tears slid down her face. Shawn grasped the nape of her neck and brought her face to meet him, leaning forward as much as he possibly could. Their lips met, lips meeting lips in an explosion of passion, and Juliet let all her grief and exhaustion melt away as she tasted blood, tears, dirt, and Shawn. She dwelled on his perfection for those few precious moments. She loved him so much.

Shawn let out a breath as his head lolled to the side, breaking the kiss. His body crumpled over, leaving Juliet panicking. "Shawn, Shawn, Shawn, no no no no no no," she pleaded, shaking him frantically. "Stay with me, stay with me!

"Shawn!"

For the record, no, Shawn is not a psychic in this story. He just helps Juliet remember little details, using logic to fudge around and help her remember more.

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