Hi, Psych-o's! That's right, I'm back again and it has been only a bit over a month! :) And you know what, that is solely because of your awesome reviews! :D Thank you so much! And maybe also because of the movie hype. Ahh, wasn't it just the best! All my love goes out to Tim Omundson! He did such a great job!

Coincidentally, this next missing scene features a Shawn/Lassie moment! It has some hurt, requested by Mysteryfan17 on AO3, and some comfort, requested by my dear friend cosette141.

Also, this is kind of a spur of the moment posting accident, haha. I wasn't quite sure if it's really the best I can do, but I got so excited, all of a sudden, and wanted to show you this. Uhm... so, please tell me if it's complete rubbish or if you like it! ;)

Happy reading!

Missing Scene 3x11 "Lassie Did A Bad, Bad Thing"

...

A little bit of what could have happened between Shawn getting knocked out in front of the Psych office and corrupt cop Drimmer forcing him to text Lassie. And then a little bit of comfort and camaraderie after the episode ends. I hope you remember; it's an old one...

...

Shawn was having a very vivid dream.

A tinny little melody was playing, like one from a street cart. And there was a giant red and white-striped carton that was tipping over and a million little peanuts were raining down on Shawn, burying him beneath them. And then, suddenly, he was at the zoo. But he wasn't standing outside the cages… he was in one. Families of elephants were trudging to and fro in front of his cage, pointing their trunks at him and making fun of the little human in the cage.

Strange, Shawn thought. Why am I dreaming of elephants?

Suddenly, the elephants in front of his cage all had little red and white-striped buckets of peanuts with them and they began throwing the nuts at him… or were they legumes? Shawn didn't pay attention when Gus had explained the difference to him. Either way, it really hurt when one got bombarded with those.

"Ow!" Shawn complained and tried to shield himself from the assault with his hands. "Stop that. Hey, would you stop—" The elephants were trumpeting. It sounded like laughter. "Hey!" Shawn hollered insulted.

But the elephants didn't care about his whining. They seemed to be aiming for his head… or at least that was the body part of Shawn that hurt the most. Like little lightning bolts of pain, shooting through him with every peanut that hit him. Suddenly, Shawn gasped in realization.

Oh, right… I went to get peanuts from that street cart, he remembered. Shawn stood straighter in his little zoo cage and frowned. Huh, but what happened next…

The elephants didn't give him time to properly think this through. They kept throwing peanuts without a pause. Hitting his head and sending little explosions of pain through his brain. Oh man, this really shouldn't hurt this bad, Shawn wondered. The peanuts were feeling more like concrete bricks to him.

The waves of dull pain were getting sharper and sharper by the second, humming and stinging until the dream wasn't just uncomfortably weird, but truly agonizing. Shawn couldn't see straight anymore and the elephants became blurry, gray shapes, disappearing from his sight.

And, suddenly, the dream was no longer a dream.

Shawn blinked his eyes open with a start and wanted to yell as the full, conscious extent of the pain he was in registered in his mind. But he could only groan unintelligible.

Globes of diffusing light flurried by and Shawn blinked again to focus more on what he was seeing. But he couldn't. His sight kept swimming. What is that… street lamps, maybe? Shawn couldn't focus on his thoughts, either. The pain was distracting him. The humming of a car engine vibrated beneath him and it seemed to carry the throbbing pain from his head, to his face and down to every other body part.

Shawn groaned again and this time his awareness was noticed and punished immediately.

"Hey, we're not there yet! I have no time to deal with you now!" said a gruff voice and before Shawn could even begin to think of a witty response, there was a sudden, sharp burst of pain at his left temple. His head sank against the window to his right and once more Shawn was out like a light.

The next time he woke up, Shawn came face to face with Detective Drimmer and, all at once, everything that happened after he paid for his peanuts came rushing back to him.

Shawn tried to sit up from where he was lying in a heap and felt his heartbeat pounding painfully in his face. The room immediately started to spin and Shawn had to concentrate so he wouldn't throw up.

He was at Lassie's apartment, he eventually realized and the angry hunk of a man sitting across from him was holding a gun in his hand.

Just when Shawn thought it couldn't get any worse than that, his splitting headache proved him wrong. Drimmer was talking, snapping at him to shut up. Did I say something, Shawn wondered. Oh, yes… yes, I must have. Damn concussion.

Drimmer had hit him hard, Shawn couldn't deny that. As he was trying to get his brain to function and explain to Drimmer that he knew exactly what he had done, Shawn simultaneously took stock of his injuries:

Let's see, probably concussion from hit to the head… multiple hits maybe? Can't pinpoint where exactly the pain is coming from, but DAMN, is it great! Also, really, really nasty bruise from that cheap sucker punch to the face. Anything else… wait… what am I even trying to do right now? Oh, crap, that gun looks so freaking real...

"Do y'think killing me is gonna solve all your problems?" Shawn slurred unintentionally while fighting not to cower from Drimmer's cold stare.

"Oh, I'm not going to kill you." he answered confidently, which made Shawn pause. "I'm going to make it look like Lassiter killed you."

"Ha…" Shawn snorted in amusement, but the vibration of this noise made his whole face hurt and his eyes momentarily rolled back. Blinking quickly before he could fall sideways, Shawn steadied himself with his fists next to him on the couch. "Give him s'time and he'll do that a-anyway… wi'out you gettin' your 'ands dirty."

"Believe me, I know." said Drimmer. "I've been around you for only a few days and I want to kill you. But unfortunately, I can't wait until Lassiter snaps." With that, Drimmer suddenly got up to sit next to Shawn on the couch. With the gun pressed sharply to the soft flesh on the side of Shawn's belly, he gripped his neck with his free hand.

Shawn couldn't hide the nervous flinch as he felt the unrelenting, hard metal pressed into his gut. Instinct told him to get the hell away from the barrel of the gun, but Drimmer immobilized him with his neck pinch.

"So, here's what's going to happen…" Drimmer growled into Shawn's ear. "You are going to text Lassiter to come here. No tricks, no funny business or I'll put a bullet in you." He shoved the gun further into Shawn's side to make his point clear.

Shawn swallowed to keep his nerves under control. His head was still pounding like crazy, but the more immediate threat of the gun flooded his body with fear and adrenalin, clearing his mind. "I-I don't think Lassie will be up for a chat. He's still pretty down with his badge gone and whatnot."

The grip at his neck tightened as Drimmer shook Shawn around, sending swirling sensations through his stomach. "You're going to have to convince him." Drimmer said.

"Aw, man…" Shawn gasped, struggling to keep his voice even. "That's really not my strong suit. Y'know, dealing with all his depressive feelings. I'm more of an upbeat kinda guy. But I'm sure Lassie'll come around when he's-"

Shawn's breath was abruptly knocked out of him when Drimmer hauled off to ram the backside of the gun into his stomach. Pain exploded and Shawn desperately gasped for air. Another blow followed that left Shawn screaming and doubling over. With his hands clutching his stomach, Shawn rolled to the side, away from Drimmer. But he couldn't hold himself upright anymore.

Biting his lip to stifle his agonized moans, Shawn slipped from the couch and down to his knees. But Drimmer didn't give him a break.

With a rough shove forward, Shawn landed flat on his bruised stomach between the sofa and the coffee table. He yelped again, squeezing his eyes shut as his vision blurred once more. Drimmer's knee between his shoulder blades and the gun against the back of his neck was holding him firmly down.

"Listen, Spencer!" Drimmer spat angrily. "I have other ways of making you compliant. You may act as if you don't care about whether you live or die, but maybe you will care if I'm pointing the gun at our favorite female Detective."

Shawn momentarily stopped breathing, which didn't go unnoticed by Drimmer.

"Ah, see, I knew it." he said. "That obvious, pathetic jealousy when I mentioned Detective O'Hara before. You are an item, aren't you?"

Shawn swallowed; his throat had suddenly run painfully dry. "No." he said fiercely. "We're not. Not that it is any of your business."

The gun pressed harder against his skin. "But you do care about her, right?"

Adrenalin was rushing through Shawn's system for a whole different reason now. Determined he balled his fists and tried to fight against the knee that pinned him down, but to no avail. "Don't bring her into this!" Shawn hissed against the floor. He could feel his veins pulsating angrily against his skin. Drimmer pressed Shawn's head to the ground, making him moan. Black dots danced in front of his eyes.

"Then do as I say, smart-ass!" Drimmer growled. "Because I can make her come here, you know? Juliet thinks I'm just a klutz who brings her cupcakes. She won't suspect a thing if I'm calling her for back-up. Oh, that poor, naive girl."

Forgetting all of his pains and bruises, Shawn wiggled beneath Drimmer, trying harder to break free. "Stop that." he called out angrily.

The cold gun pressed deeper into his neck, squelching all forms of protest. "Unless you send a text to Lassiter right now that will make him come here, I will kill you both. You and O'Hara. And I will start with her, so you can watch her bleed out. Do you understand, psychic?"

Shawn's vision blurred. His mind suddenly filled with pictures of Jules' perfect ocean-blue eyes, widened in fear as she was clutching a bullet wound at the center of her chest. Shawn's stomach twisted and he blinked rapidly to make the picture go away.

The barrel of the gun was making it hard for him to breathe and his lips trembled as he finally managed to speak, "Y-Yes… I… I understand." Shawn whispered in defeat. Adrenalin rush or not, he had to come up with another way to stall. There was no way he would put Jules in any form of potential danger. No, he and Lassie would have to figure this out on their own.

"Good." said Drimmer and suddenly the pressure on Shawn's body was gone and the low-life cop pulled him up by the back of his collar and shoved him back on the sofa.

Shawn sat there with his eyes closed and proceeded to breathe deeply through his mouth. The constant movement made him see stars and his stomach swirled uncomfortably. Keep it together, he reminded himself fiercely and he reopened his eyes.

Drimmer was standing across from him again, the gun firmly pointed at his head. He nodded towards the coffee table where Shawn's cellphone laid. "Here is what you'll write…"

It could have turned out way worse than this, mused Shawn one day later, propped up in a hospital bed and texting Gus with annoying persistence.

Gus had in fact just left the hospital, but that didn't stop Shawn from continuing their fight about who was going to be in charge of the cable bill from now on.

After Shawn was forced to send that text to Lassie, he was still hopeful that the detective would get his clue and bring the cavalry with him. But Lassie had showed up alone, apparently so out of his detective-mode that he honestly believed Shawn would send him a text without emoticons. How could anyone be so boring and renounce the little smiley faces anyway?

But still the two men had managed to turn the tables on Drimmer.

Shawn grinned proudly to himself as he thought back how heroic he must have looked, when he grabbed Drimmer's arm, angled the gun away from him and managed to keep hold of him despite his nausea and his spinning, pounding head until Lassie dove for one of his hidden guns and shoot the man.

Just a second later, Jules, Gus and his dad had stormed in and all they witnessed was Lassie's badass gun-cocking-and-catching-the-bullet-move, while Shawn almost fainted like a little girl on his wobbly knees.

Damn it, I wish Jules could've seen me, too, Shawn thought, shaking his head and cursing Juliet's horrible timing. Not for the first time.

His dad had insisted that he stayed at the hospital for at least 48 hours so his concussion could be monitored, but now, not even 24 hours later, Shawn was already bored to death. He wasn't even feeling that dizzy anymore. The bruises on his stomach, however... they still hurt. But Shawn had hid them, not wanting to receive any pity glances. Not even the doctors had noticed them yet.

Shawn sighed, letting his eyes wander around in the boring, bleak room with nothing to do. Just as he considered his move to sweet-talk the young nurse who was responsible for him into letting him out early, there was a distinct knock on the door.

Shawn furrowed his brows. The hospital staff mostly doesn't knock and visiting hours are over. Who could that be?

After a short pause, the door swung open and to Shawn's surprise, a sheepish-looking Detective Carlton Lassiter came into view. "Lassie!" Shawn exclaimed enthusiastically; he was a little bit loopy from the mild pain meds he received. "Come in, come in. What brings you here?"

The head detective stiffened his jaw, as if bracing himself before setting foot into Shawn's room, and closed the door behind him. "Spencer." he greeted. "I just wanted to see how you were doing."

"Aw, Lassie. I knew you cared." Shawn grinned lopsidedly, putting a hand over his heart, feigning to feel deeply touched.

"Knock it off." Lassiter demanded in his usual grouchy voice. "Don't make me regret coming here already."

"How did you even manage to do that?" Shawn asked truly curious. "The nurses here are awfully strict with their 'no visitors outside visiting hours' policy."

Lassiter couldn't hide the smug grin as he showed Shawn his newly returned police badge. "With a little help from this." he said.

Shawn smiled warily. "Please tell me this sentence ends here and you're not going to pull out your gun next."

Smiling, Lassiter patted the bulge in his shoulder holster, obviously feeling like a whole person again. "I could have done that, too." he said wistfully.

Shawn raised his eyebrows which didn't even register in Lassie's gleeful mind. "Hmm…" he hummed a little creeped out. "And here I was, thinking that you came here to finally confess me your true feelings."

And just like that Lassie's scowl was back.

"Drimmer made some very disturbing assumptions about us, remember?" Shawn continued lightheartedly, feeling immense joy as he watched Lassie's frown deepen with every syllable he uttered.

"You will not breathe a word about this to anyone, understand!" Lassiter growled, a warning finger pointed at him. "Blab this to Guster or O'Hara or anyone else and I will come back and strangle you with my bare hands. And in contrary to what that scumbag Drimmer thinks, I will not feel guilty about it!"

Shawn held up his hands in surrender. "Geez, Lassie, you could let a guy down gentler than that, you know." As his opponent's face darkened even more and he stepped closer, Shawn quickly scrambled to the opposite edge of the bed. "Okay, okay. I'll stop. Promise."

Shawn made a gesture as if he was locking his mouth with a key and then threw that key away. "See?" he said and then kept perfectly still as a dull pulsing at the side of his belly reminded him that, although the pain meds were easing his soreness, they didn't make the blue and purple spots vanish completely, so he shouldn't do such quick movements.

Lassiter shot him another warning glance and put his badge back in his pocket. He kept standing there, awkwardly looking Shawn over from head to toe.

The latter frowned again, his curiosity piqued. "So… what really made you come here then?" Shawn asked.

"Like I told you…" Lassiter started and then made a small pause to think about his next sentence. "You were held captive under my roof, so…" he gestured nonchalantly with his hands. "I ought to make sure that you weren't dying from the concussion."

Shawn narrowed his eyes in disbelief. "I'm fine, Lassie." he said.

"Good." Lassiter answered quickly.

"Yeah, you see, my brain is running so smoothly again that I'm even receptive for new psychic visions…" Shawn raised his hand to his head in his typical fashion, which made the head detective roll his eyes. "I'm getting something right now, actually… I'm sensing that… you still haven't told me the true reason for your visit."

"Come on, spare us the theatrics." Lassiter snapped, crossing his arms over his chest. "You know I don't buy this crap… and you can't fool me, either, with your covered-up bruises." he added insistently.

Shawn's head snapped abruptly towards Lassie. "What?"

"Oh, you heard me." said Lassiter. He motioned for Shawn's abdomen, his voice getting just a little bit softer, "When Henry and Guster brought you away, I noticed you were holding yourself awfully stiff and you were covering your right side with your hand as if to protect it."

Unintentionally, Shawn's hands went for his stomach again, as if he could still hide the bruises there.

"I figured your face wasn't the only place Drimmer hit you, am I right?" continued Lassiter. Shawn averted his gaze and stared stubbornly at the boring white blanket, hoping that he could make the detective drop his questioning if he only waited long enough. But Lassiter proved to be stubborn, too. "What else did he do?"

The way Lassiter asked this... it left no room for distractions. Shawn suddenly got reminded of that time when he was a boy and he came home from school with a black eye because a girl had punched him. He had tried to hide it from his dad, but Henry immediately noticed it. And he had questioned Shawn as persistent as Lassie did just now.

As if he wouldn't leave the room before he found out what exactly had happened.

As if he actually cared.

"What did he do, Spencer?" Lassiter repeated more urgent.

"Doesn't matter now, does it?" Shawn muttered childishly. "It's over. We got him arrested."

Shawn still wasn't looking at him, but out of the corner of his eye he saw how Lassie threw up his arms in exasperation. "You know what… fine. It's your own fault." the detective said. "That bastard had a gun. You should be glad that he only knocked you around. But that's what happens when you just can't shut your mouth even when you really should."

"For your information, I was trying to keep you out of this, okay!" Shawn exclaimed suddenly and turned abruptly around to face Lassie. His bruises pounded prickly and the reflexively protective hand held over his side didn't go unnoticed by the detective. "I figured I could buy some time." Shawn explained. "Gus and my dad must have figured out by then that something was wrong when I didn't return to them, so I just had to keep him distracted until they come for me."

Lassiter snorted dryly. "Some risk you took. He could've decided to use his gun instead of his fists at any time."

"Well, he didn't." Shawn declared, nervously fiddling with the edge of his blanket. "But he… he did eventually threaten Jules instead."

"What?" Lassiter growled low in his stomach and his hands immediately balled to fists at his sides.

"That's when I gave in." assured Shawn quickly. "I… I couldn't risk Jules getting hurt because of me, so I did what Drimmer wanted and texted you."

Lassiter proceeded to stare at Shawn, seemingly contemplating something. His posture slowly eased up again. "Good. I mean... you did good, Spencer." he repeated to clarify. "No matter what happens, you never put the life of your partner in danger. If there's any way to avoid it, you do it… whatever the costs." He paused and Shawn curtly nodded to that.

"But you're not her partner… I am." Lassiter then stated fiercely. "You didn't have to do any of this. You're not even a detective."

"No… I'm not. Amen to that." Shawn scoffed humorlessly. "But… Jules…" Shawn trailed off for a second as the picture of a frightened, bleeding Juliet found its way back into his mind. It was so wrong, seeing her like this. Bleeding. Scared. Shocked. Shawn swore to himself in that moment that he would never let that image become reality. Ever. "Jules is… like family." he said finally. "I won't let her get hurt."

"Yeah…" Lassiter said pensively. "Me, neither."

Both men fell into contemplating silence, lost in their own thoughts for a while. An attentive onlooker would've known, however, that both of their minds were circling around one Juliet O'Hara.

Suddenly, Shawn and Lassiter's eyes met and they blinked, shocked that they accidentally let their guard down in front of their personal nemesis.

"Uh…" Lassiter uttered and cleared his throat.

"Yeah, well… whatever." mumbled Shawn.

"I… I should go now." said the detective, pointing awkwardly at the door as he made a lanky pivot on the spot and hurried towards the exit. "Spencer!" he barked once more.

"What?" asked Shawn, blinking himself rapidly back to attention.

"You're not telling O'Hara this, are you?" questioned Lassiter. "Because, let me tell you, she hates it if someone acts like she can't take care of herself. She can!"

"Of course." replied Shawn quickly. "Of course, she can. And no, I won't tell her."

"Yeah… that's better." said Lassiter and vanished out the door.

Shawn was alone and furrowed his brows. What was that, he wondered. Did Lassie and I just bond over our shared... uhm, fondness for Jules? Shawn shook his head definitely. Nu-uh, this can't be true. We would never bond, right? Some strong meds they have here, he mused, trying to decide if it was easier to believe that he just imagined the whole visit.

Of course, I managed to bring some Shules in. How could I not? ;)

The dream at the beginning got inspired by the slightly ridiculous dream scene in the movie, haha! Tell me, was it too weird, too? XD

As always, please review, dear Psych-o's! :)