Gus couldn't get any more answers out of Shawn while they drove back to the precinct, much to his annoyance. Shawn practically sprinted to the back door and Gus grumbled as he tried to keep up; they weren't being chased by bad guys, there was no reason for this much cardio.

"Lassiekins, I need that file!" Shawn called out as he jogged up to Lassiter's desk and pushed the detective away.

"Spencer, get the hell away from there!" Lassiter squawked as Shawn dug through his desk drawers. He rolled his chair back to slap Shawn away and began putting everything back in order.

Shawn craned his neck, still scanning the desk, "The spirits need the file, Lassie…"

Lassiter looked around quickly before retorting, "The spirits don't exist. If you wanted to sing and dance in front of an audience, you should have gone to Broadway."

Shawn stopped looking as he gasped in delight, "You think I'm good enough for Broadway!"

"... Maybe Vaudeville. In Detroit." Lassiter corrected himself.

Shawn looked at Gus, "I can't tell… Was that supposed to be an insult?"

"I think it was," Gus answered. "Not a very good one though."

Lassiter sighed and pointed to Vick's office, "Agent Cassidy has the file. Now shoo, some of us have real police work to do."

"Uh-huh." Shawn pointed at the small stack of papers in the detective's hands, "The secretary did it. She probably seduced the boss to get his passwords."

"What?!" Lassiter flipped through the pages quickly. "How the hell would you know that?"

Shawn sighed and held his hand to his head, "The spirits don't like being mocked, Lassie. But they like you. They say to check her watch, they guarantee she bought it within days of the money going missing."

Shawn turned and walked cheerfully to the chief's office as Lassiter cursed quietly at his desk. Gus smirked and followed his friend, muttering quietly, "Show off."

"Takes one to know one," Shawn shot back as they walked into the office. "Cassidy! I have smoothied and hotdogged. Let me see that file now."

Cassidy willingly handed the folder over and Shawn flipped through it quickly, pausing on the pictures of the corpses. He gave them a quick look, his thoughts glowing with satisfaction when it matched what he had already deduced.

Shawn inhaled loudly, his eyes rolling back, "I can see-"

"Wait, wait…" Vick held out her hand and walked past him and to her door. Shawn stopped and watched her, dumbfounded, as she called out, "Detectives, in here."

Juliet and Lassiter filed in and Vick sat back down. "You may continue, Mr. Spencer."

"Are you sure?" Shawn asked in annoyance at his moment being broken, "Does anyone need a potty break first?"

Vick answered with a finger point to the file still in his hands. He looked down before inhaling loudly, his eyes rolling back, "I can see… blackness. His victims, they're blindfolded. But they're still trying to talk to me…"

He closed his eyes and flailed his arms out, tossing the folder carelessly into an empty chair. Suddenly he threw his arms back behind him and fell to his knees, "I can feel it. A hard floor, solid walls, a chain heavy around the neck…"

He stumbled back to his feet and ran into Lassiter, "They were dragged, like Lassie…" He pointed at the detective without looking, "not that Lassie, the other one."

Cassidy leaned down to whisper to Gus, "Who's Lassie?"

Gus looked at him in disappointment, "Really?!"

Shawn opened his eyes with a gasp, "they were taken to be questioned, they were taken to his room, that's where he is."

"Wait, you're sensing the building Novikov is in?" Cassidy asked in excitement.

"Yes." Shawn spoke to Vick, "They were dragged, but their feet weren't hurt, they stayed inside. He questioned them, killed them, then made sure there wasn't any evidence to lead back to him. The feet were washed, the clothes changed."

He spoke to Cassidy next, "They're in a building with cement floors, walls that are strong enough to have a chain anchored to them, multiple rooms and I'd almost bet that there's something on the floors that makes it stand out. Wood or metal shavings or something."

"Cold," Gus added. "It's the middle of summer, it has air conditioning."

Everyone in the room turned to look at him. Juliet spoke up, "Shawn didn't mention anything about it being cold…"

Gus realized his mistake and tried to cover for it, "He started having flashes of the vision when we were getting the food, he must have mentioned it in the car."

"It's true, I remember saying that now," Shawn added. "I just forgot because the smoothie gave me brain freeze. My poor synapses…"

"How accurate are his visions?" Cassidy asked Vick.

She looked between Shawn and Gus, "His visions are very accurate. We'll start compiling a list of buildings that match right away."

Cassidy grinned and grabbed Shawn's hand to shake it, "That was amazing! If it pans out, I'd like you to work with us at the FBI."

"Uh… excuse me, these are our consultants," Vick reminded him with a sharp smile.

"Sorry Cass, but you're the first fed I haven't wanted to punch in the face after the first meeting." Shawn gingerly pulled his hand back, "Nice to know I made an impression though… Gus? We're going?"

"Wait, you just come in, have a vision, then leave again?" Cassidy asked in confusion. "These spirits seem to have a lot of information, why don't you work here full time and help with more cases?"

"Why does everyone keep asking me that?" Shawn asked in annoyance. "The spirits come and go as they please, I just follow them. And they're telling me to go… so I must follow. Gus? I need my familiar."

Gus rolled his eyes and followed, "You're not a witch, you don't have a familiar."

"Of course I do, I have my Magic Head. You're like my Salem, my Iago, my Bob." Shawn answered him with a smug grin as they headed towards the back of the station.

"... Who's Bob?" Gus asked curiously.

"Oh yeah, you still haven't read those, have you?" Shawn realized and promptly waved it off. "So, we have a whole afternoon to ourselves, what are we going to do with it?"

Gus knew he should tell Shawn to go home so he could do his other job. He answered the question, "Jaws marathon at Psych?"

Shawn grinned in delight, "It's like you're reading my mind."

Gus walked next to Shawn, his stomach comfortably full of jerk chicken, the boardwalk comfortably solid beneath his feet, the setting sun comfortably warm on his back as they made their way back to Psych.

"So does this mean we're back to the 'no food in the company car' rule?" Shawn asked as they passed another group of people lined up at a food cart.

Gus smiled in satisfaction as he was able to sort the sensations against his shield while keeping up with the conversation, "Nah, it just means restaurants are back on the menu. Your dad's right, I can't get better at this if I don't practice."

"Eew, gross. Never say those words again… Dad's ego is bad enough without you adding to it."

"Are you sure it's his ego you're worried about?" Gus asked with a smirk.

Shawn narrowed his eyes and sent a visual: Young Gus tripping over his feet as he tried to talk to his crush.

"Nice try, but that was then, this is now." Gus thumbed his nose, "And now? I'm a player."

"Oh really? You're a 'player' now?" Shawn sent a more recent memory: Gus grinning like a fool as Mira looked at him in concern.

"Every Superman needs a kryptonite," Gus replied primly as he stuck up his nose. He promptly ran into a garbage can and had to scramble to save himself from a wipe-out. Shawn snorted out a chuckle at his expense. Gus straightened his shirt and muttered, "Oh shut up…"

Shawn's expression didn't change as he continued to giggle, but Gus could feel the way his thoughts had stuttered. "Shit, sorry."

"Eh," Shawn shrugged it off and quickly changed the subject, "So we're out of Jaw movies, what's next?"

Gus thought for a second, "Baywatch or Godzilla."

"Well, that's not even a choice…" Shawn was interrupted by his phone playing Dancing Queen. His thoughts started clicking pink as he answered, "Hey Jules! What's up?"

He listened for a few seconds before his eyebrows went up, "Already? Nice. Did you… Huh. Where are you, I can try to sense where he went… No, I'm not there already. Jules, if we followed you guys around, we'd never get anything done."

Gus snorted quietly as he changed his course, heading towards his car instead of Psych's door.

"Yes, actually. Gus and I were in the middle of a very, very, super-duper, important…thing. So where are you?" Shawn climbed into the car, waiting for an address. "What, why not? He's not there… Fine. We'll see you at the station."

Shawn hung up in annoyance, "Vick really needs to stop the mother henning…"

"They found Novikov's place already?" Gus asked.

"Yeah, but it was empty. He left a body," Shawn answered.

"Well that's suspiciously convenient timing…"

"Yeah, I was thinking the same thing." Shawn reached over to tap Gus' temple, Gus immediately swatted the hand away. "Think your mental 'super sniffer' could smell out a rat?"

Gus shrugged, "I don't know, but I can try."

"Alright, let's do this."

Gus turned on the car and they started driving to the station.

Gus sighed as they entered the precinct; the crowds on the pier had been one thing, but he hadn't been expecting to go back into a busy building again. Though it was significantly less busy than usual with most of the workers and officers home for the night.

"Shawn! There you are!" Juliet jogged over to them and pulled Shawn to the side and out of sight from Vick's office. She spoke quickly and quietly, "Cassidy won't stop talking about you, it's almost creepy. He's going to offer you that FBI job… Please tell me you meant it when you said you weren't interested?"

"Jules, we're Ohana. Ohana means not going to work with people who wear suits as pajamas," Shawn comforted her.

"Ok, good." She smiled in relief before her mental bubbles turned a dirtier shade of pink and she ran her eyes over her boyfriend, "Although… Washington-black jacket, shirt all tucked in, collar all… stiff."

Shawn grinned, his thoughts synchronizing with hers, "Detective O'Hara, are you harassing me? In your very own precinct?"

"Oh my god. Get a room!" Gus turned and stalked off. Lassiter was heading over to check on his partner and Gus stopped him as a general courtesy, "You don't want to go over there."

"What? Why not? Spencer wastes enough time as it is, we've got another murder and a mob boss to track down…"

"Because it's a toss-up on whether they're going to find Shawn a tailor or start making out," Gus answered with an eye roll.

Lassiter's face paled and he immediately did an about-face to walk back to Vick's office. Gus trailed after him, trying desperately to not listen to the fizzing and ponging thoughts behind him.

Cassidy looked up as they entered Vick's office and his face fell in clear disappointment when he didn't see Shawn. He immediately went back to looking over the photos spread across the table next to Vick's desk, not giving Gus a second glance.

Vick caught Gus' eye and gave him a ghost of a smile, the smell of cinnamon spiking with amusement at the irony, before turning her attention back to the federal agent. Gus settled himself at the back of the office, content to be overlooked. It was a common enough occurrence and it gave him the space he needed to start sorting the thought sensations around him.

He started with the most obvious choice, listening again to the clopping hooves and the metal pressing into his back: Frustration, a body hanging from a chain with a bullet hole in her head, amazement at the vision's accuracy, a list of assets to find the target, resolve.

Gus crossed the agent's name off of his mental list. Unless Cassidy was extremely good at misleading thoughts, he wasn't the mole.

"Fear not, I have arrived!" Shawn made his entrance with his usual flair. Gus rolled his eyes and focused again on the thoughts around him. Shawn would let him know if there was anything interesting to see in the crime scene photos. He had a job to do.

He immediately dismissed the rest of the thoughts in the room and worked on reading the officers still milling around the large office. Buzz walked by, sorting a pile of files in his hands; Gus felt a dog's tail wag against his legs and smelled burnt sage: Excitement, a promise of a late homemade dinner, the ABC song, contentment.

Gus smiled, there was something special about pure happy thoughts.

He focused and sorted out the remaining sensations, listening to each person. None of them stood out as anything suspicious; they were just normal people doing their normal jobs. Or, at least, as normal as a job in Santa Barbara's police precinct could be.

"And that is why a hotdog both exists and doesn't exist all at the same time," Shawn said with all of the seriousness of a lawyer laying down his closing arguments.

Gus smirked as he tuned back into the scene in Vick's office. Lassiter looked like he was seriously considering shooting Shawn, Vick looked like she might let him, and Juliet seemed pleased as a peach over the whole situation. Gus couldn't help but snicker at the look on Cassidy's face as he asked, "That's a movie quote? Please say that's a movie quote."

"Nope! That is a Shawn Spencer original. I can have it embroidered and framed for you if you want," Shawn informed him proudly as he glanced over and met Gus' eyes. Gus shook his head slightly and Shawn continued, "Now, calzones are a different story. Clearly a sandwich."

"Mr. Spencer…" Vick cut in, trying to get Shawn back on topic.

Gus didn't get a chance to hear her lecture as he was distracted by his phone buzzing. He looked at the caller ID in concern and quickly stepped out of the office to answer the call, "Mr. Ogletree, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

His boss answered him dryly, "Mr. Guster, I was planning on having this conversation face-to-face, but you never made it into the office today…"

"Yes, sir, I was on the road today," Gus lied with a small wince. He knew he should have hit his route in the afternoon. Ogletree might know about his second job at Psych, but the general rule was 'don't ask, don't tell.' His boss pretended to be unaware of the breach in Gus' contract and Gus made sure his sales numbers stayed in the acceptable range.

"Of course you were…" Ogletree sighed, "I'm calling to inform you that we've had a complaint called in against you."

Gus frowned, "If this is about Dr. Sherbert, I swear I made sure he was comfortable with his new rep before I left…"

"No, it's not about that." Gus wasn't sure how, but he knew Ogletree had rolled his eyes. "It was a complaint from a new doctor, he had his secretary call it in…" There was a rustling of paper as he found the name, "a Dr. Dahmer."

Gus suddenly found it hard to breathe as the walls seemed to press in on him. His boss continued, unaware of his distress, "Apparently you were unprofessional, rude, and refused to listen to him. Do you have anything to say about this?"

Gus answered the question quickly, forcing himself to keep track of the conversation, "No, sir. I haven't met a doctor by that name on my route."

He stared at the cinder block walls and was glad he was standing, even though his knees felt like they were about to give way underneath him.

"Maybe I wrote the name down wrong…" Ogletree continued, sounding like he was reading from a script, "As you're aware, when you're out on your route, you are a representative of this company. Anything you do reflects back on us; we take complaints like this very seriously. Our HR team will be investigating further."

His voice shifted back to his general dry disdain, "Normally, only one complaint like this wouldn't be too much of a black mark on your record, but given your unique circumstances… You'd better hope nothing blows back on us. I trust you understand what I'm saying?"

"Yes, I do," Gus answered, making sure his voice stayed clear even as his body shook, "I'll be in the office all day tomorrow, if HR needs-"

His phone clicked as Ogletree hung up on him. Gus lowered the phone as he struggled to take a full breath.

"Hey, you ok?" Shawn asked quietly next to him. Gus jumped and dropped his phone, flinching at the loud noise it made when it hit the floor.

He suddenly realized he'd been asked a question. He shook his head and answered out loud as his heart thudded in his throat, "No. Not ok."

The sound of cresting waves washed over him and Shawn moved slowly, keeping his hand low as he reached out to brush their knuckles together. Gus closed his eyes as the waves grew louder and pushed everything else back, he listened to it until the sound broke up and separated back into individual bouncing thoughts. His breathing slowed down.

"Talk to me, let me know you're still here," Shawn reminded him gently.

Gus opened his eyes and remembered he didn't have to be quiet, "Still here. Sorry."

Shawn rolled his eyes, but before he could retort back, Lassiter came out of the office, "Spencer, can you at least try to be… What's wrong?"

"Spirits have the munchies again, tell Cass I'll let him know if they give me any more information," Shawn answered easily. "There's a new deluxe pudding place I've been wanting to try out, Gus is gonna buy me some!"

Lassiter gave him a disbelieving look, "Deluxe pudding?"

"I know! It's called the Curious Custard. I know I'm curious."

The detective just rolled his eyes and turned to go back into the office, not bothering to try and convince them to stay. Cassidy's voice stopped him, "Actually, I'd like a word alone with Detective O'Hara if that's ok. Could you close the door on your way out?"

Lassiter's face was stony as he grabbed the door and yanked it closed. He stalked to his desk, muttering under his breath, "Sure, it's not like I'm the Head Detective or anything…" He looked up and noticed Shawn and Gus watching him, "What?! Aren't you two supposed to be filling up those bottomless pits that you call your stomachs?"

"Yes. Yes, we were. Night Lass." Shawn waved and nudged Gus' hand, waiting for him to move first. Gus pulled his hand back as he bent down to pick his phone up before making their way out of the station. He pulled out the keys for the Blueberry and Shawn immediately held out his hand; Gus handed them over without a complaint, happy to not have to focus on driving.

He paused with his hand on the car door as the hair stood up on the back of his neck. He looked around, certain that they were being watched, and concentrated, trying to feel if there was anyone out in the darkness. He wasn't able to sense anything and he shook his head at himself, he was starting to get paranoid.

They climbed into the car and were on the road before Shawn asked, "What happened?"

Gus sighed, "She called my office, trying to get me fired."

"What a bitch." Shawn shook his head and took the next turn, heading towards his place. He didn't ask, but Gus could hear the question clear as day in his thoughts.

"She told my boss she was a secretary and lodged a complaint for the 'doctor' she worked for, she used his name… It just caught me off guard."

"Fucking bitch." Shawn corrected himself. "Are you in trouble with your boss?"

"He barely tolerates me anyway…" Gus shrugged, " I don't think they'd fire me over this. It's still only one complaint and HR should figure out pretty quick it isn't even for a real doctor."

Shawn thought for a moment, "Tell them you have a stalker who's trying to mess with your life. It's not even that far from the truth."

Gus raised his eyebrows as he considered the plan, "That's actually a good idea, I might do that."

"You don't have to sound so surprised… a lot of my ideas are good."

"A lot of them are bad too," Gus pointed out.

"They're only bad if you're worried about consequences," Shawn answered easily. "You want to hear another good idea? Movie night."

Gus thought about the consequences of staying up late instead of sleeping properly like he should. Sleeping and dreaming. "I could watch some movies. Is that pudding place real?"

"No…" Shawn said sadly. "Ice cream?"

Gus nodded in agreement, "Ice cream."

Gus made himself proper pudding the next night, being sure to remember to spoon out a heaping serving into a tupperware bowl to bring to Shawn. He added a few mix-ins for good measure and took his overflowing bowl to the couch to wind down for the night.

The HR meeting had gone better than he could have hoped. Apparently, Ogletree had experience with crazy stalkers. Which, Gus mused to himself, probably shouldn't have come as much of a shock. It actually gave him common ground with his boss, he was pretty sure his job was even safer now than it had been in years thanks to Rhianna's phone call.

That hadn't stopped him from working hard all day, making it clear that he was still invested in the sale's job and that he was worth keeping around. All he needed now was a few hours on his route and he'd be caught up on a week's worth of work.

He glanced at his phone, slightly worried that it had been silent all day. Shawn had told him that he hadn't been able to see much from the crime scene photos, so they were back to waiting until the next lead. In some ways Gus really hated cases like this. The fast cases that started and ended within a day or two were frantic and sometimes terrifying in how fast things could happen, but it still beat just waiting around for something to happen. Gus snorted at the comparison his brain offered him: long stretches of boredom, fast moments of adrenaline-rushing terror.

He shook his head and turned on the TV. He definitely needed to sleep well tonight; he didn't need to be thinking about the basement before going to bed.

His phone rang as soon as he settled on a channel and he muted it quickly before answering, "Hey Shawn, what's up?"

"I think Jules is mad at me," Shawn said immediately.

Gus frowned at the legit worry in his friend's voice, "Why would you think that? What did you do?"

"I don't know! That's the thing! Usually, I know what I did. But this time we were good, and then she just stopped talking to me."

"Maybe she just doesn't have anything to say right now?" Gus offered. "They're probably working on the case and she doesn't want to bother you until there's a lead."

"I am a lead…" Shawn grumbled. "And it's not just that she's not calling me. She only answered my 'good morning' text, she didn't answer when I called her, and she wasn't at the station. It's like she's ghosting me."

"Shawn, sometimes people just need space for themselves, it doesn't have to mean anything."

"Not Jules, she thrives on people. It's why we work, you know? She's never gone this long… Crap, do you think she's in trouble?"

Gus was almost more worried that Shawn didn't think to ask that sooner, "Did you talk to Lassiter?"

"He said to mind my own business and was overall very unhelpful and grumpy. So… Lassie."

"Ok… If he's not worried, then it's probably nothing. Did you go by her place?"

"Of course I went by her place! She wasn't… Wait, she just texted me." Shawn was quiet for a moment before coming back, his voice sounding even more aggravated, "I knew I did something! I texted her about armadillos and how they always have quadruplets and she answered back with 'k'. She K-ed me!"

Gus felt bad for doubting his friend, "Oh dang, that's not good. You're sure you didn't do anything?"

"You were with me all day yesterday, you tell me!"

Gus thought back, "Maybe she didn't like you being weird around Cassidy? I can't think of anything else, but she seemed to enjoy that…"

"I'm always weird. And she told me to be 'extra-Shawn' -her words- so he'd stop trying to get me to work for him."

"Sorry man, I can't think of anything. She didn't feel mad or anything when we left. Maybe she just had a bad day today, it doesn't have to be about you."

"But it makes more sense when it's about me…" Shawn sighed.

Gus smirked at the answer, "I know. Want to come over?"

"Nah. Contrary to popular belief, I can actually survive on my own."

"I didn't say you couldn't. Come over for breakfast then, I've got pudding."

"Thanks, buddy," Shawn's voice sounded a bit lighter, "I'll see you in the morning."

"See ya."

Gus hung up and thought about calling Juliet before realizing that was a terrible idea. He was Shawn's best friend, that didn't mean he got to meddle in his personal relationships. Even if Shawn wouldn't respect the same boundary if their positions were reversed.

Sometimes it was important to model the behavior you wanted others to follow. Even if your friend was a lost cause.

Gus finished his pudding and zoned out to a documentary about space. He hoped that tomorrow would bring them some answers, both for the case and for Shawn. His friend was right, it really wasn't like Juliet to go silent without an explanation. He hoped everything was ok.

He sighed and put away his bowl before heading to his bedroom, double checking his locks on the way past the door.

He remembered the feeling of being watched at the station and closed his eyes, lifting his hand to his head as he concentrated and felt the thoughts around him. He recognized Mrs. Smith's taste of oatmeal cookies, his upstair-neighbor's family who all had different music sensations and the hot girl down the hall who inexplicably had a visual sensation of the color aqua green. He didn't feel anyone new and he let his hand drop, the sensations all becoming muffled and fading away to the far background as he stopped trying to listen for them.

He wasn't sure why he didn't seem to share the dreams of his neighbors, but he definitely wasn't complaining about it. He figured they must not be close enough, or maybe he had to know the person, or maybe there was another criteria that he wasn't aware of yet. The dream from the first victim really messed up most of his theories about why he shared some dreams and not others.

He shook his head and stopped wondering about it as he prepared for bed. At this point, it didn't really matter, he was resigned to dealing with his usual nightmares for the foreseeable future.

He quickly fell asleep and dreamed of fire.