Shawn slept throughout the entire ride to LA. Afterwards he thought for a second that it was a pretty stupid move, but at the time he hadn't cared a lot. They'd all met up in front of the Psych office so that Gus would have a place to leave the Blueberry at and when the four of them had come together again, it had been in silence and awkwardness, mixed with a bit of hostileness on Gus' side regarding Martinez.

Shawn would never admit it, but he'd been happy about the prospect of a long drive and the sleep he would get not long after. When they'd arrive in LA, it would be well after seven PM and he had reasonable suspicions that they wouldn't be forced to see the station for the rest of the day. That was something for another time, especially with Gus who'd just be extra cranky when he didn't get his sleep.

They'd had only a short exchange of a few words when they entered the Psych office, the air between them not exactly cold but awkward and Shawn was embarrassed that he had no idea what to say to his best friend at first. He had used his key to unlock the door and seen that someone had been there as soon as he stepped into the main office. His desk was all messed up and some drawers weren't properly shut (or were, weirdly enough, properly shut when they shouldn't be). It took him a moment of worry before he realized that of course someone had been here, Juliet had had his phone when he knew he'd left it here and how else would they have found out about the gun? He blamed the concussion. He was just honestly glad they hadn't found his badge in the drawers, because that would've created questions that might've ruined more in his life than it already was.

Gus had stopped for a moment, too, but for an entirely different reason. It took him a while to tear his gaze away from Shawn's swivel chair, but his friend was too busy observing his desk to notice.

"Um," Shawn started timidly. "Did you get your keys back?"

Gus paused in packing up his laptop, contemplating his answer, before he shook his head. "No."

"Okay."

Gus had cast a curious glance in Shawn's direction and watched how his friend opened one of the drawers to pull out a bag from under a chunk of paper balls. It was quite a genius hiding spot for anyone who knew him. He could guess what was inside the bag but it took him some courage to get the words out.

"Can I see it?"

Shawn, who had put the bag down carelessly and bent over to get other stuff out of his desk, froze and stared at Gus for a second, before a small grin slipped back on his face and he threw it over at his friend. Gus scrambled to catch it before it fell to the ground and glared back, but the small bit of familiarity was all he needed to open it and stare at the golden badge in his hands. It wasn't dirty or rusty or scratched or anything but it was clear that it hadn't seen the light of day for a long time. Gus knew that policemen took the polishing of their badge very seriously, that it was a sign of their pride and he hadn't thought before now that a small piece of painted metal could hold so much power over himself. But somehow the carelessness with which he handeled his ID was comforting.

"I would do anything to give it back." He hadn't realized that Shawn stood right next to him until his friend talked, but he didn't say anything, just dropped the damned, beautiful thing in his hands and left the office with his necessities.

Shawn snapped out of his memories and glanced out of the car window to watch the lights pass by. The sun hadn't vanished behind the horizon yet, but it was dark enough to justify the first street lights being turned on. It brought a sense of familiarity that he couldn't explain and even less decide he liked or not. Gus was sitting next to him and had obviously not slept through the ride like Shawn had (his head thanked him for it, though), but he was looking a lot more like his usual self again which was a relief.

"So, we got a call, right?" Martinez was saying, half turned around to look Gus in the face, clearly trying to keep from laughing throughout his story telling. "A couple had just come home and there was a burglary happening. When Bruce and I got there, though, there really was a burglary, like right at that moment. You wanna know how they found out?"

"How?" Gus asked, a little wary but curious despite himself.

Martinez grinned. "The man had told a joke and they'd heard a laugh from upstairs."

Shawn snorted while Gus started to laugh. "Is it just me or get criminals more stupid by the day?"

"Oh, you have no idea," McCoy chimed in from the driver's seat, smirking at their amusement. "Just the other day, we were responding to a burglary that was called in - some pipes were missing or something. Turns out the guy who got burgled grew pot plants in his apartment."

"You're kidding," Gus said, incredulous.

"Am not," McCoy shook his head. "He was trying to convince us that they were his friend's. We called Narcotics to investigate and even they said they'd never heard of something that stupid."

"Did you solve the burglary, too?" Shawn smirked, an idea already forming in his head.

"Obviously," McCoy stared at him in the rearview mirror, eyebrows raised in mocking. "He wasn't burgled. He misplaced the pipes." Shawn chuckled and closed his eyes, starting to feel sleepy once again.

"Oh, I remember something else!" Martinez blurted out, perking up. Gus leaned forward in interest. "There was this one time when it was going a little slow in Narcotics," he started. "And you know how I said Norris - you remember Norris?" Gus nodded, trying not to stiffen up at the name. They'd explained to him in an earlier story that David Norris had been Shawn's partner, once, very early on. He had become very well respected in his division after he initiated a huge drug bust somewhere in LA. It was a little awkward to think about other people being Shawn's partners, to be honest, but the last hour made him realize that it didn't need to be.

"Well," Martinez continued. "Norris gets pretty jumpy on days like this. So that day he's so bored, he starts making flyers - you know, where you get the contacts of the police from and can file a report in? And he wrote on it something like this: Attention LA Drug Dealers! Is your drug dealing competition costing you money? We offer a free service to help you to eliminate your drug competition!"

Gus burst out laughing, not able to hold it in for a longer. "That's messed up," he pointed out, grinning like crazy.

"No," Shawn chimed in in the seat beside him. "What's messed up is that there was actually a report filed over it!"

Gus hesitated only for a second, before he allowed himself to slip back into their groove. It had taken quite a while for the conversation to become so easy-going and he wasn't interested in losing that yet. "Are you for real?" He asked. Shawn seemed relieved.

"Yeah, he is," Martinez took over again. "We couldn't believe it. They made the bust and the guy who was busted was so angry, that he busted the one who gave the tip, too. It was hilarious!"

Gus laughed and shook his head in amazement. He knew that the cops in Santa Barbara were easy-going (except, of course, Lassiter) but he'd never noticed that cop stories could be this funny. When he was small, his parents had taught him that one should only call 911 when it was a real emergency because one day it would be jammed if you didn't. It seemed like some people neglected to learn that lesson though - in the last hour he'd learned of a lot of mistaken 911 calls, only starting with the time someone called the department numerous times for no reason just to get them to come and bring him some cigarettes. He was amazed at the stupidity of some people once again.

"I remember one, too," his friend spoke up. Gus tried to keep his awkwardness at bay - he needed to talk to Shawn later, McCoy was right. "When Norris and I were still on patrol, we were dispatched to a nine-year-old girls home who'd called 911 and then hung up. We thought it would be something like that someone was hurt or domestic violence, right?" Shawn paused dramatically and Gus already felt the smile on his lips, despite himself.

"So what was it?" Martinez asked, interested.

"Her grandpa was cheating in a game of cards," Shawn revealed and grinned. "So I joined and won anyways." Martinez started laughing. Gus couldn't help himself either - he'd seen enough people losing to his friend over the years to know exactly how the grandpa of the little girl must've looked.

"You joined in?" McCoy asked incredulously from the front seat. "During patrol? And Norris was okay with this?"

"Oh, it was his idea," Shawn corrected him. "The little girl was quite sweet about it and offered us cookies in thanks. The grandpa took it with humour."

McCoy shook his head, smirking. "Good Lord, now I'm glad you're not a cop anymore."

Martinez elbowed the older man, alarmed. "Cap!"

"It's not like I'm wrong," McCoy pointed out. Gus and Shawn exchanged a hesitant glance.

"Well," the pseudo psychic said finally. "Since you changed your mind, you might as well try changing the Chief's."

"Already did, Spence," McCoy shook his head and slowed the car to a stop in front of a run down looking apartment building. "He wants to talk to you about it." Shawn rolled his eyes in exasperation.

"Here we are," Martinez said and got out of the car. "Come on, guys."

Shawn didn't recognize the building. It was of a normal size and made out of brick stones, looking rather weathered. To anyone not really looking, it wouldn't seem worth living in anymore but Shawn noticed the new looking windows with rusty bars on the outside and dirty sheets hanging on the inside immediately. The door wasn't new, but it had a new lock. The street was mostly vacant from cars despite the fact that many others had to be living in the surrounding buildings because of the low rent prices. It was a well hidden safe house for anyone who needed to stay in the city, not too far away from the station, and apparently exactly what they needed.

Martinez opened the door while Shawn and Gus got their luggage out of the trunk. It wasn't a lot for both of them, since they hadn't had a lot of time to prepare so McCoy was soon enough able to pull out of the street again to find another, less suspicious parking space. The inside of the house was more or less bare, few to none decorations over the walls and floor. It was an apartment building, just like it had looked like from the outside, but most doors weren't closed so that it seemed just like a huge one-family house. The windows were all barred with with the cloths, prohibiting anyone from the outside to look in. The light was provided mostly from several light bulbs in the rooms, with simple lampshades over them and a thick blanket of dust covered the floor.

Shawn could guess that the department preferred to use the upper apartments if at all, both from logic and the visible footprints through the dust that went up the stairs. He followed Martinez upstairs and found four more apartments there, two on each side of the hallway. They went to the two on the back and Shawn caught a quick glance of an old desk sitting lonely in the apartment on the right, stacked with files, a laptop and more writing utensils. It was missing a phone, but that wasn't surprising. The apartment Gus and he were ushered in was a little bit more equipped with - well, anything. There was a small bathroom and an even smaller kitchen, and two single beds standing around. Shawn immediately reserved the one on the right for himself by throwing his backpack on it.

"Make yourself at home," Martinez told them and crossed his arms, smirking. "You should better get to sleep soon. We've got a really stressful day tomorrow."

"What about food?" Gus piped up, raising an eyebrow.

"McCoy is supposed to get some right now," the detective answered without a second of hesitation. "There's at least three pizza places and a Burger King between here and my place, so you should be fine."

"Your place?" Shawn repeated. It took him a second to understand what that meant. "Wait, you're staying here?"

"Well, someone's got to keep an eye on you guys," Martinez pointed out, grinning. "This is police protection after all."

Shawn pouted in disappointment. "You know, technically I am an officer, so there's no need for someone else."

"Right," Martinez said dryly. "Exactly. You're here to protect Gus and I am here to keep an eye on you. Deal with it."

"But -"

"Shawn," Gus interrupted him and rolled his eyes. He turned to the LA detective. "What is the plan for tomorrow?"

Martinez tilted his head and watched them curiously for a second, before he answered. "Someone is going to come and take us to the station first - most likely McCoy since he's got the other key. At 8 am there's going to be a meeting with everyone on the case, including the team from Gangs and Narcotics. We'll go from there."

"I want to see Stafford's apartment," Shawn announced and flopped down on the bed.

Martinez paused and exchanged a glance with Gus. "We've searched that, Spence," he told him carefully. "Twice. Just a few hours earlier, actually."

"You did?" He asked in surprise. "And you didn't find anything?"

"We found fake passports," Martinez allowed. "One of them was very confusing - it was one made out for your name but with a picture of Sam. The others were for a Wilson Reese, Dewey Stafford and Sam Deleon."

Shawn blinked, taken aback by the new information. A nagging thought sat in the back of his head, but Shawn pushed it away, not wanting to think about it at the moment. He had enough to sort out as it was. "I still want to see it," he said matter-of-factly.

Martinez sighed in exasperation. "I'll be in the next room over. Don't even try breaking out."

"Don't worry," Shawn grinned. "I've never wanted to take a nap more than right now."

The detective and Gus exchanged another glance and Gus just shrugged, opting to stay out of this. Personally he didn't think Shawn was very interested in running around the streets right now, especially alone which he would be since Gus had not forgiven his friend enough to run right into the arms of a gang yet. Also, he had blackmailing material with calling Abigail if Shawn didn't behave and that, added to the prospect of food soon enough, would keep him in here for the time being. Hopefully. He wasn't sure whether he could predict Shawn at the moment, though. There was too much in the room between them to be sure on anything.

Martinez closed the door when he left and it became silent for a second. Gus took a deep breath.

"I want the explanation now, Shawn," he demanded and stared at his friend from his place on his own bed. Gus wasn't interested in staying in the dark any longer. In a few hours he was going to see the LA police department for the first time and meet people that Shawn knew, people who knew Shawn and - this was a first - knew more about him than Gus did. This wasn't going to happen. McCoy had helped him before, and the stories in the car were a good start, but he needed to understand it. Sooner, rather than later. He'd been the bigger man and taken a step towards his friend regarding their argument, now it was Shawn's turn to sort it out.

"I know," Shawn nodded, the grin falling from his lips. "You deserve the truth. I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier, Gus. Honest."

Gus sighed. "I know."

Shawn hesitated. "That's good. I'm - I'm just gonna start at the beginning, right?" He laughed uncomfortably. "Well, you know how it goes. I called in a tip that resulted in the LAPD getting the bad guy. It was a pretty similiar situation to the one I was in when Lassie called me in."

"Only they believed you," Gus added.

"Yes," his friend said. "They did. And the lead detective on the case, Thomas King -"

"That's the guy who's Chief now, right?" He interrupted. Shawn nodded.

"King pestered me to visit the Academy," his friend continued. "Until I agreed. I was sure I wouldn't last there and wanted to prove that to him. There was just one problem..." He paused. "I did last. The rules were a pain in the ass, really, but... it felt good, somehow. For a little while. To actually do what dad wanted me to do for so long - what he made me to do. You know what I mean?"

"I think so," Gus allowed after a moment.

Shawn nodded and stared at his friend, devasted. "Of course you do. I should've known."

"What?" He frowned.

"You know, I - I was worried that you wouldn't understand," Shawn took a deep breath. It was shaky, so he laughed to cover it up. "I was embarrassed, even. I'd spent the last years raging against my dad and driving around the country and suddenly I was doing exactly what he wanted me to do? I didn't want to last there, so I figured I never had to tell you about my stunt. You were busy with college and everything, so -"

"Did you honestly lie about all the places you've been to?" Gus asked hesitantly.

Shawn shook his head. "Not all of them. I've been at most of them at some point. But the jobs... they were not all true."

Gus mulled over his friend's words for a few seconds. McCoy had made him realize some things - what actually bothered him wasn't that Shawn was a cop. It was weird, sure, something he needed to grow accustomed to before he could completely accept it, but after all those years he'd learned not to be surprised about that part with his friend anymore. What occupied his thoughts was the fact that Shawn had lied - and the fear that he might lose his friend to people he didn't even know. Who knew what the aftermath of this case might bring? It might ruin Psych for them, or even ruin their whole life in Santa Barbara with the distrust they paid their friends and family there. Or even worse, they might get hurt and badly at that. Maybe the gang would get away with everything and they would have to be put in witness protection, or maybe Shawn would decide he liked being a detective in LA more than downplaying his abilities to play psychic in Santa Barbara. There were so many possibilities what could happen and each and every one scared Gus. Well that, and that he didn't know what way Shawn would choose if given the chance - Los Angeles or Santa Barbara.

But had Shawn really lied? He had. He had told him that he had been a pizza deliverer in New York and that he had fed tigers at a zoo in Ohio and that he had worked at the Skittle manufactury solely to propose a new flavour to the boss. On second thought, the last one sounded too much like his friend to be a lie, but that didn't matter at the moment. Shawn had never gone as far as to deny that he was a cop at the straight question. Everyone always just assumed that he wasn't. The closest he'd ever been to lying was a few months ago, when his old Acapella group pulled a stunt and got kidnapped and Lassiter had told Shawn that he'd never be a cop. He kept the cop thing from Gus - he didn't lie about it. There was a difference. It still hurt like hell, but...

"I can't really be mad at you when I've done the same thing," Gus told Shawn finally. "I mean, it's just like Mira. I didn't think you'd find out, either. I was embarrassed, too."

"It's not really the same," Shawn argued.

Gus shook his head. "No, it's not. But it's enough for me. Just - be honest with me about this." He hesitated and took a deep breath. "Do you want to go back?"

"No," Shawn denied immediately.

"Don't just deny it," he said. "Think about it. I can't - I like having Psych, but I don't want to worry all the time that you are going to leave or that someone is going to burst through the door to get you to come back - again. I mean," he laughed. "Why would you leave LA? You had everything here, from what they told me in the car -"

"That's where you're wrong," Shawn pointed out softly. "I had nothing. Well, I had friends, a steady job and a reputation but... let's be honest," he smiled. "That's not me, buddy. And it's good that way. Look, there's way too much I would lose by leaving, okay? Psych, and you, and Abigail, Lassie, Jules, my da-" Shawn faltered for a moment. "Dastardly amazing, patented shirt-and-jeans look. Just - hear me when I say this. I'm not a cop. The only thing that makes me a cop is that stupid badge and believe me when I say that I plan on throwing that at the Chief's feet as soon as this damned case is solved. I want my life back."

"Alright," Gus nodded. "I believe you."

"I'm really sorry," Shawn offered timidly.

"It's okay," he said. "Just - don't make tomorrow hard on me, alright? It was awkward enough in the car with two guys, but a whole station -"

"You realize that most of them won't even remember me, right?" Shawn asked. "I was gone for four years and the Bureau is small enough. There's going to be changes."

"Shawn," he reminded him.

"Okay," his friend agreed. "I won't."

"Okay," Gus nodded and let out a long breath. "Now tell me everything. Every case. The Academy. The people there. And don't give me any of that 'It's been years' crap."

A smile broke out on Shawn's face. He really had the best friend ever.

I'm literally so relieved that I can start solving the subplots and let the story go smoothly. It's been a hassle keeping track of everything going on, because frankly my planning happens solely in my head which isn't a smart thing to, just a tip if you guys ever do a longfic, too. I'm glad you're still enjoying everything and I can promise you, starting with the next chapter the main focus will shift back to the case.

Secondly, I realize that Shawn said several times that he isn't a cop solely in the pilot. I did not include that for a reason: Gus' memory isn't as perfect as Shawn's and he's only lived through those times once, not watched it several times like we do. It's something said on the side, even then. Also, that was a time when Shawn had just left the LAPD, convinced that the statement that he wasn't a cop would be true in less than three months tops. You can't really hold him to that.

And lastly, there is this really annoying glitch bugging me at the moment on this website? It seems to be reocurring on here, that the program won't let me see the new reviews for days after they were posted by you guys, and not even just on my own stories. I filed a complain and I hope it will go away soon. Just wanted to ask whether you had any experience with that or even a tip?