Detectives O'Hara and Lassiter pulled up in the driveway, after midnight as per usual. Rain pelted the car, sounding like gun shots as it landed. The water was already running over the road, threatening to fulfill the weatherman's flash flood warnings. The house Shawn and Juliet shared was silhouetted against the cloudy sky with every lightning strike. The detectives quickly dove out of the car and made a beeline to the covered porch.

"Geez, Spencer didn't even leave a light on for you?"

Juliet's eyebrows furrowed.

"That's unlike him," she said slowly.

Carlton reached the door first, sighing impatiently as Juliet searched for her keys. Marlowe was nine months pregnant and the hormones raging through his house at the moment were...let's say intense. He'd been on edge all day, and was really looking forward to he and O'Hara's traditional end of the week drink. But something didn't feel right...

"Sorry, I found them," O'Hara said as she fumbled them next to the lock.

Carlton put a hand in the doorknob and turned.

"The door's unlocked. He usually leave it open like this?"

Juliet felt a knot form in her stomach.

"Never," she breathed.

Carlton put a hand on his gun and opened the door. Juliet followed on his heels, stopping only to flip on the light. Lassiter was already bending over the couch.

"The he-...Spencer?" Juliet rushed over to see Lassiter put a wrist against Shawn's forehead. "He has a fever."

Juliet moved around to the front of the couch and crouched down beside Shawn. He was lying on his side, knees curled up, convulsing violently. Although the only thing he was wearing was a pair of basketball shorts and an old T-shirt, he had sweat through them both and onto the couch.

"Oh my god, Shawn...Shawn, wake up." Juliet sat beside him, shaking his shoulder gently.

Shawn took a shaky breath and curled further into his knees. Juliet, concerned looked behind her to Carlton, who stepped in.

"Spencer, hey." His voice was much softer. "Can you sit up?"

Shawn groaned in pain, clutching his stomach.

"Jules," he moaned.

Beads of sweat ran down his face as he shook.

"Shawn, why didn't you call me," Juliet scolded gently. She laid a cool hand on the back of his neck and felt the heat radiating off in waves. "You're burning up. Carlton, there's a thermometer in the cabinet above the sink. Grab it for me?"

Lassiter nodded and left to search for the thermometer while Juliet pulled Shawn into a sitting position. He promptly leaned over and rested his head in between his knees.

"Is it your stomach," she asked, rubbing his back.

Shawn nodded and groaned again. "Jules..." But Lassiter interrupted him.

"Found it."

O'Hara took the thermometer and put it in Shawn's mouth. "Under your tongue."

"Juliet...," Shawn mumbled again, the thermometer hanging out of his mouth.

"Thirty more seconds, Shawn. Then we'll talk."

But Shawn shook his head and pulled the thermometer out of his mouth.

"I'm gonna be sick."

As soon as the words left his mouth, Shawn began to gag. The next five seconds were a combination of Jules saying, "Hold on. Hold on," and Lassiter jumping out of the way, crashing into the coffee table.

Shawn tried to stand up, but his shaking knees wouldn't hold. He crashed back down and wretched, vomiting down his shirt and onto his shorts. After about fifteen seconds the nausea finally dulled. Shawn stared at his lap, taking shallow breaths and swallowing hard.

"It's okay, Shawn. It's okay. You're really sick. It's...it's happened to everyone," Jules soothed, casting another nervous look to her partner. "Let's get you changed. Can you stand?"

Shawn nodded, but never looked up. Humiliated, he tried to stand without touching anything. Juliet put an arm around him as he swayed back and forth, and Lassiter, who was stunned until that moment, grabbed an arm. Shawn stopped moving, one hand on his stomach and one on his mouth. The effort of movement made him gag again, and Lassiter jumped back once more. To all of their relief, however, it was a false alarm and Juliet lead Shawn to the bedroom to find some new clothes.

"Can you find a trash can," Jules asks as she passes Carlton. "Please?"

"Uh, yeah, definitely," Lassiter said, apparently still stunned by what had just happened.

Juliet and Shawn reappeared in the living room a few minutes later. Lassiter held out the trash can without a word, and she set it down on the floor by Shawn's pillow. Shawn curled up on his side again, clutching his stomach.

Juliet sighed as she and Carlton walked into the kitchen together, speaking softly so as to not disturb him.

"I've never seen him this sick," Juliet whispered. "If he's not better in the morning, I'll have to take him to a doctor. I'll call if I'm going to be late."

Lassiter nodded. "Of course. I'll leave you guys alone. Let me know if you need anything."

Juliet nodded and opened the door with a small smile, watching as Carlton ran out into the rain. Thunder rattled the windows as she returned to Shawn's side to try the thermometer once more.

"Here. One more time, Shawn," she said as she held out the thermometer.

Shawn said nothing, but allowed his temperature to be taken. Still taking shallow breaths and swallowing hard, he peeled his eyes open as the thermometer beeped.

"Oh my god, Shawn," she whispered. "103. When did this start? You seemed fine this morning!"

Shawn tried to answer, but nausea overcame him again. Sitting up quickly he grabbed for the trash can with shaking hands. Juliet felt helpless, wishing she could do something for him. When his stomach finally calmed Shawn fell back against the couch, eyes closed, with tears streaming from exertion. He didn't seem to care, and another knot formed in Juliet's stomach.

"Shawn, can you remember how this started? It's very important. Did you eat anything strange? Did you go anywhere for a case that Lassiter and I don't know about?"

Shawn thought hard, flipping through scenes of the day. But everything was a blur. All the memories were dull after lunch. He couldn't tell which we're today's memories and which were yesterday's. His head pounded under the stress, and he felt sick again.

"Lunch," he gulped. "Weird lunch." Then he made another grab for the trash can.

Juliet picked up her phone and dialed quickly, a terrible feeling rising in her.

"Gus, it's Juliet. Were you with Shawn at lunch today?"

The storm was doing a number on her cell phone service. Gus's voice was broken up, every other weird indecipherable.

"Say again? I can't understand you," Juliet said loudly. She grabbed a rag from the sink and ran it under cold water as she waited anxiously for Gus's words.

"Juliet? Are you still there? Hello?"

"Gus, I'm here! I need you to tell me where you and Shawn went for lunch today."

She squeezed the rag and brought it back to Shawn, who was shaking violently from the fever. She held the rag to the back of his neck. Gus's words were staticky and came through in bits.

"Shawn...case...bar...alright?"

Juliet sighed. "Gus I can't understand you. If you can hear me, Shawn is really sick and I have a bad feeling. I'll call you back soon."

"Shawn, I think something's really wrong. You're never sick like this. It could be serious. I'm taking you to a doctor first thing in the morning."

She expected Shawn to whine like he usually did when Juliet forced him to go to the doctor, but it never came. Instead he only nodded, knuckles white as he gripped the trash can. His breathing was heavy and shallow.

"Do you need anything?"

Shawn didn't respond, but stared off into space.

"Think you could hold down some water?"

Shawn still didn't respond, eyes glassy.

"Shawn," Juliet said softly and reached out to touch his face.

Before she could question him again, Shawn had collapsed, sliding off the couch and hitting the floor with a thud.

"Shawn," Juliet yelled, kneeling down beside him. As his body convulsed violently, Juliet felt sick herself, he was seizing.

Without warning the front door opened once again. Juliet didn't take her eyes off of Shawn, even to see who it was.

"O'Hara," she heard. "It's me. I came back because-"

"Carlton," she yelled. "Help me!"

Heart racing and adrenaline pumping, she tried to pin Shawn down. She felt Carlton bump into her as he knelt beside Shawn.

"Don't hold him down," he instructed, pushing her hands away. "Here, help me turn him on his side."

Together, they rolled Shawn over and then waited a long, painful, wait. When the convulsions finally passed and Shawn lay unconscious, Carlton reached out and felt Shawn's pulse. Juliet didn't realize she had been holding her breath until then.

"It's weak, but still there," he said softly. "That's good."

Juliet reached for her phone on the coffee table. "I'm going to call an ambulance."

"Don't bother," Carlton interjected. "The storm knocked a tree across both lanes. Traffic backed up a half mile. That's why I came back. Nothing's getting through."

Juliet was on the brink of tears. "We have to do something!" Her voice was high pitched and wavering. She looked at Carlton silently, begging him to intervene. She'd been in countless life or death situations. She knew what it was like to remain calm and think through the panic. But this time, it was Shawn. Her Shawn. "We have to do something," she repeated more softly, tears spilling over.

Carlton grabbed Juliet's shoulder, "Juliet, listen to me," he said forcefully. "I will not let anything happen to Spencer. Do you trust me?"

Juliet nodded without speaking, eyes still wide with fear. Carlton looked from her to the phone in her hand.

"I have a plan."