I want to thank everyone who has left a review on this story so far. Life has been hectic lately but I promise I will respond to all of them.

But for now, on with the story!

"Ah, the hallowed halls of UC Santa Barbara," Shawn said as he and Gus entered the chemistry wing of the university. "It sure brings me back to my days on campus." He smiled fondly as he remembered those crazy times.

"What days on campus?" Gus asked. "You never went to college." He gave Shawn a look, daring Shawn to disprove him.

"Then why do I have a master's degree in Phsysics hanging on my wall?" Shawn asked. He smiled at a couple of girls in the hall, turning to give them a nod as he walked past. They giggled as Gus grabbed his arm and turned him back around, glaring at him.

"Dude."

"What?" He flirted with almost every girl they passed, as long as Juliet wasn't around. It was almost a reflex at this point; it didn't mean anything.

Gus sighed and let go of his arm. "You made that degree in Photoshop when we were working the case at the Meitner school."

Shawn had gone undercover as a guest lecturer at an exclusive school for geniuses in order to catch a murderer disguising himself as one of the students. He couldn't understand why anyone would want to relive being a teenager, no matter how screwed up their life was. Though he was still adamant he so could have pulled it off. "OK, you have a point," he conceded, rubbing his arm. "Man, you have a grip like a rabid spider monkey. Look I'm already starting to bruise." He held his arm up to Gus's face for him to see until Gus slapped him away. "But I did spend time on campus visiting you when you were in college," he said, bringing them back to the original discussion.

"You only visited me once, right after I was dumped by my girlfriend." Gus turned to Shawn, narrowing his eyes. "You said you wanted to cheer me up. Do you remember what happened that weekend?" Gus stared at him, waiting for his response.

"I took you to a frat party to hook you up with a new girl," Shawn said warily. He could guess where Gus was going with this and it wasn't one of his prouder moments.

"And what happened at that party?" Gus asked tersely.

"Dude, it was like fifteen years ago," Shawn complained.

"You ditched me to make out with a math major," Gus said, coming to a stop and glaring at Shawn.

"In my defense she wasn't just any math major," he said, trying to get Gus to understand his position. "She was a hot math major. A hot blond math major. I mean, how many of those do you think even exist? I had to hook up with her." He waited for Gus to respond. His friend just continued to glare, unswayed by his argument. "What else was I supposed to do?"

"You were supposed to be my friend and support me in my time of need," Gus said reproachfully.

"Aren't you being a little over dramatic?" he asked teasingly.

"I got drunk and threw up on my bio lab partner, Shawn," Gus said angrily. "She wouldn't talk to me for the rest of the semester."

He winced. Trust Gus to know just what to say to make him feel guilty. It was a skill only Gus and Henry seemed to possess, although he supposed Juliet would develop it soon enough. He hated feeling guilty. "Gus, man, if I didn't say it then, I'm sorry," he said sincerely. He held up his hand as if taking an oath, "I promise from this point on I will never ditch you for a girl again," he said solemnly.

Gus snorted. "Don't make promises you can't keep, Shawn." However he seemed to be somewhat mollified by Shawn's apology.

"We good?" he asked, holding out his fist.

Gus looked at him for a minute, then sighed. "We're good," he said, bumping Shawn's fist with his own.

"Now, let's talk motive," Shawn said as they started walking down the hallway again. "I'm betting on an angry girlfriend. She's dating a smart guy, he seems dependable. Then he starts spending long nights at the lab, missing dates, forgetting important anniversaries. Maybe she's tired of being ignored. Maybe she found out he got chummy with one of the lab techs. Either way she finally has enough. She sneaks in, messes with his experiment so the death looks accidental, then acts broken-hearted when the police tell her of his death." He looked at Gus, pleased with himself.

"It's a good theory," Gus said as they reached an intersection with another hallway. "Too bad he didn't have a girlfriend." He started heading to the right.

He grabbed Gus's arm. "Dude, it's this way," he said, dragging him to the left.

"But the sign says chemistry labs to the right," Gus said, pulling him to a stop. He pointed to the sign on the wall in front of them.

"Except Sanders was in one of two chemistry labs located next to the physics wing." Shawn let go of Gus's arm and started down the left hand hallway. After a moment Gus caught up with him.

"How do you know that?" Gus asked him curiously.

"I divined it psychically while meditating on the subject," he said seriously. Gus just looked at him, waiting for a real answer. He sighed and pulled a folded piece of paper out of his back pocket. "I may also have printed out a map," he said, handing it to Gus.

Gus opened the map and looked at it. "Says here the head of the other lab is a Dr. Lyle Pratt," he said, pointing to the map. "We should probably ask him about Sanders and see if he noticed anything odd."

They turned the corner and stopped. Ahead of them the hallway was cordoned off with police tape. Curious students and a couple of members of the press were pressed up against the tape, watching the proceedings. Equipment from the crime scene unit littered the hallway. An officer was standing off to the side questioning a couple of guys in lab coats. Shawn could hear more activity from the open doorway to their right. According to his map, that was Sanders' lab. Someone from forensics exited the room, placing several samples in one of the cases on the floor.

"Looks like forensics is finishing up," Shawn said quietly to Gus. "Now is our time to investigate." He ducked under the police tape and gestured for Gus to follow him.

Gus shook his head, pointing to the tape. "We're not allowed," he said just as quietly.

"Come on, Gus. Just duck under it," Shawn said in exasperation.

"No," Gus whispered, crossing his arms.

After a furious, if whispered, argument between the two which ended with Gus staying firmly planted on the far side of the tape, Shawn shook his head and headed over to the lab. He peaked carefully around the doorway. Lassiter was talking to a couple guys from forensics, his back towards Shawn. If he was quick, he would have time to get in and find something before Lassiter figured out he was in there. He was about to enter when someone behind him called his name.

"Shawn!" Coming up to him was the 6' 5" form of Officer Buzz McNab. "I'm sorry," he said, stopping Shawn from going any further. "But I can't let you into the crime scene." He did look genuinely sorry, a fact Shawn planned to exploit.

Shawn clapped him on the shoulder. Well, more like the upper arm, as the man's shoulder was out of his reach. "Buzz, buddy, it's OK. The chief put us on the case." He tried to duck around McNab and get into the lab.

McNab stopped him again. "Detective Lassiter gave me strict orders to not let you go unescorted into the crime scene. He doesn't want you to 'mess things up as usual.'" He looked apologetically at Shawn. "His words, not mine."

"Where's Jules? Can't she escort me?" Shawn asked, looking around for the blond detective.

"She's at a robbery scene downtown," McNab explained. "We're shorthanded right now so the Chief asked her to cover it while Lassiter checked out the school." He frowned in thought. "I could see if one of the other officers would escort you."

"That's OK. I have a backup escort," Shawn said, pointing to Gus behind the police tape.

McNab hesitated. "I don't think that's what Lassiter had in mind. I should go ask him if that would be all right." He started to enter the lab, presumably to look for Lassiter.

"That's OK," Shawn said hurriedly, stopping him. "I wouldn't want to bother Lassie right now. I know he's upset that Marlowe's parole has been delayed again."

"Only a week," McNab said, then paused. "How did you know that?" he asked in amazement. "I only found out by accident and Detective O'Hara said he wants it kept quiet."

"I am a psychic," Shawn reminded McNab. He put his hand to his head. "And I'm sensing the Chief told Lassiter to wrap this case up quickly before the press gets wind it was murder." He dropped his hand and leaned in conspiratorially. "Lassie's under a lot of stress. You know he could use some help," he said, appealing to McNab's good nature.

"All right," McNab said, caving just as Shawn knew he would. "But don't tell Lassiter I was the one to let you in. I just got off of traffic duty."

"Sure thing Buzz," Shawn assured him. He watched McNab walk away before turning towards Gus. "Come on, we're in!"

Gus came over as he peeked around the doorway again. "How did you know about Marlowe's parole?" Gus asked.

Lassiter still had his back to him. The detective pointed to a doorway on the far side of the room and started walking towards it. Keeping an eye on Lassiter, Shawn whispered to Gus, "I saw a letter from the California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation on his desk yesterday. Jules said Marlowe was due to be paroled soon. Judging by his extra grumpiness lately, it seemed like a logical guess." Lassiter entered the far room, taking the forensics guys with him. "Now's our chance." He entered the room with Gus right behind him.

The lab looked like it had in the crime scene pictures, minus the dead body of course. What he hadn't noticed from the pictures was how clean the place was. Nothing was out of place. The counters looked freshly wiped down and everything was put neatly away. Even the floor looked clean enough to eat off of. The only mess in the otherwise pristine lab was the table containing the late doctor's ill-fated experiment and some scattered piles of fingerprinting dust from the tech guys. This was going to make finding any clues difficult, even for him.

"We don't have a lot of time," Gus said, eyeing the doorway Lassiter had walked through. "Let's hurry."

"Agreed."

The two split up to examine as much of the lab as possible. Gus looked over the cabinets containing lab supplies. "This guy sure was a neat freak." He pulled out a box of pencils, which had a label saying 'pencils' on it. "You could learn something from him."

Shawn meanwhile was examining the victim's last experiment. All the containers with any kind of chemical in it had been removed and tested. The rest of the equipment had been left as is on the table. He was looking for anything forensics may have missed. At Gus's comment he looked over at what his friend was holding. "The guy is dead Gus," he said. "And I think he had an unnatural attachment to his label maker." He went back to examining the table.

"I just think you could use a little more organization in your life." Gus went over to Sanders' desk and started looking through the drawers. "I don't even want to think about what I saw the last time I looked in your desk." He pulled some papers out of one of the drawers and flipped through them. "I think I found something," he said, studying one of the sheets. "Shawn, come look at this."

"In a minute." All his attention was on a beaker sitting on the table. More importantly, what was under the beaker. A single strand of gray hair stuck to the bottom when Shawn picked it up. He looked up to tell Gus what he had found when he heard loud voices coming from the next room and getting closer. He quickly put the beaker back down and saw Gus shove something into his pocket.

Moments later, Lassiter entered the lab followed by a man in a lab coat. The stranger was tall, with graying hair, and seemed to be approximately the same age as the victim. He was berating Lassiter as they entered the room. "This is completely unacceptable. I need to conduct my work."

Shawn could see Lassiter was close to losing it as he responded. "This is a police investigation," he said through clenched teeth. "That means this area remains off limits until our investigation is done, including the supply room. You can conduct your little experiments later." Turning, he noticed Shawn and Gus in the lab. "Spencer, what the hell are you doing here?"

"Little experiments?" the man said, enraged, ignoring Shawn and Gus' presence. "I am conducting important work. Work that will have more impact than any mere civil servant, such as yourself, could hope to achieve."

Shawn could literally see the blood pounding through the veins on Lassiter's neck. Knowing Lassiter was about to let the guy have it, he jumped in. "I don't believe we've met," he said, getting between the man and Lassiter. He held out his hand. "I am Shawn Spencer, Head Psychic at the SBPD."

"Dr. Lyle Pratt," he said, ignoring Shawn's hand. "And an educated man such as myself does not believe in psychics," He turned to give Lassiter a scathing look. "I'm surprised the SBPD is gullible enough to buy into this farce."

"He happens to be a valuable resource for the department who has helped solve dozens of cases," Lassiter said, surprising Shawn. He didn't think Lassiter saw him as anything other than a nuisance. Then again, maybe he just found this man more annoying than Shawn. He did wish he was recording this moment for posterity, and possible blackmail later on.

"Now, if you don't return to your lab I will have you arrested for hindering our investigation." Lassiter ground out, glaring at Pratt.

"I've wasted enough time here. See that your men clean out as soon as possible." Pratt turned and stormed back into the far room.

Lassiter stood completely still in the center of the lab. Shawn wasn't even sure if he was breathing. "Hey Lassie?" he asked cautiously, edging closer to the detective. "Are you OK?" He looked over at Gus worriedly.

"Spencer," Lassiter said through clenched teeth. "You have five seconds to leave this lab."

Gus immediately started for the door but Shawn moved closer to Lassiter. "I can't do that," he said. Gus grabbed his arm and tried to get him to leave but Shawn shook him off. "You see, I had a vision – "

"I am ready to pull out my gun and shoot the next person that bothers me," Lassiter said. Shawn had never heard him so serious. He glared at Shawn. "Leave. Now."

Not liking the look on Lassiter's face, Shawn let Gus drag him from the room. They stood in the hallway for a moment, glancing surreptitiously at the lab.

"Dude, I think he really would have shot you," Gus said finally. He glanced fearfully at the lab. "I've never seen him that angry."

"I think you're right," Shawn said, a little nervously. He pulled Gus further away from the door. "I found a gray hair under a beaker. I was going to do the whole 'psychic vision' thing but I don't think Lassie is in a receptive mood right now." He looked around to see if anyone was paying attention to them. "What did you find?" he asked, turning back to Gus.

"I think it's a list of students working in the lab," Gus said, pulling out the paper. "One column says lab techs, the other post docs."

"Post doc? Like a doctor for mail?" Shawn asked.

"Post doctorate," Gus explained. "After getting their doctorate many students spend time under an adviser to learn more about working in their field. Sanders must have been the adviser to these students," he said, pointing to the list.

"Let's see if any of them are here." Shawn glanced around the hallway, spotting the two guys who had been questioned by the police earlier. He pointed them out to Gus and headed over.

"Hi, I'm Shawn Spencer, Head Psychic for the SBPD." He pointed to Gus. "And this is my associate, Winsome Losome. We'd like to ask you a few questions."

"I don't believe in psychics," the guy on the right said. He was tall and gangly with short cropped brown hair. His pasty complexion showed he spent nearly all of his time indoors. His outfit was immaculate, unusual for a student. Shawn noticed cat scratches on the back of his left hand.

"Be polite," the other guy said, nudging him. He was shorter and heavier, with sandy blond hair. Unlike his friend, he had the healthy tan of someone familiar with sunny beaches. "I'm Sam Cooper." He gestured to his companion. "I'm sorry about Newton. He doesn't have well developed social skills."

Newton looked at Shawn in disdain. "I don't believe in wasting my time. If you gentlemen will excuse me." Without waiting for a response, he walked away.

"Nice guy," Shawn said. "Between him and Pratt it must be a barrel of laughs working here."

"Oh, he's nowhere near as bad as Dr. Pratt," Cooper said. "Newton doesn't intentionally insult you. He just thinks logically and without any emotion." He shrugged. "You get used to it after a while."

"I'm sensing Dr. Pratt is not so well liked," Shawn said. Judging by what they had already seen of the man, it was hard to imagine anyone liking him.

"Oh yeah, he's a grade A jerk," Cooper agreed. "Especially with the budget cuts." He glanced around quickly and lowered his voice. "Rumor is they need to close one of the labs down. Since Sanders and Pratt are performing similar research, it will likely be one of them."

"Really?" Shawn said, looking at Gus. That sounded like motive to him. "Do tell us more."

"Well, I work as a tech for both labs," Cooper said. "So I would see them arguing all time. The rivalry between them has been going on for years. It's only gotten worse since the rumors started." He nervously tugged on the collar of his shirt. "You didn't hear it from me, but I think Pratt was sabotaging some of Sanders' experiments." He tugged on his collar again, exposing a tattoo of a Chinese symbol.

"Nice ink," Shawn said, momentarily distracted. "Though not many people get the word for soup tattooed on their neck. What?" he asked, as Gus shoved him.

"It doesn't say 'soup'," Cooper said irritably. He pulled on his shirt to cover the tattoo again. "It says 'courage.'"

"Trust me," Shawn said. "It says soup." Gus shoved him again. "Dude, stop it."

"You don't know what you're talking about," Gus whispered to Shawn. "Stop bothering the guy."

"I worked in a restaurant in Chinatown for two weeks, Gus," Shawn whispered back. "I think I know the symbol for soup."

"And I think a smart guy getting a Chinese symbol tattooed on himself would have looked up its meaning," Gus whispered angrily. "So drop it."

"You drop it," Shawn hissed back.

Cooper watched their argument with confusion. "If you don't need me anymore," he said, interrupting them, "I'm just going to go back to work." Looking confused and a little unnerved, he left them and entered Pratt's lab.

"Great," Gus said, looking at Shawn in annoyance. "You scared him off."

"I scared him off?" Shawn asked incredulously. "You're the one who started it."

"I did not," Gus stated emphatically.

"Did too," Shawn shot back.

Gus made as if to respond, then paused. "I'm not doing this," he said, drawing himself up. "One of us has to be the bigger man."

"Fine, I win then," Shawn said with satisfaction. He walked off, back towards Sanders' lab.

Gus pulled him to a stop. "Where are you going?" he asked. "Lassiter told us to stay out of there."

"Please, Gus," Shawn said. "When have I ever done what Lassiter has asked?" He started walking to the lab again. "Besides, I know who the killer is."

"Who?" Gus asked. Shawn didn't answer as he led the way into the lab. "Shawn!" Gus hissed, following after him.

Lassiter was still inside, watching forensics do one final sweep of the lab. He seemed to have cooled down some but was not pleased to see Shawn. "I thought I told you to get out," he said tersely.

Shawn held out his right hand. He started waving it around the room, as if trying to sense something. "Something drew me in here." He moved his hand over the cabinets and Sanders' desk. He also passed it briefly over Lassiter's face. Lassiter made a grab at his hand but he moved it away too quickly.

"Spencer, what is the point of this?" Lassiter snapped.

Shawn moved to Sanders' experiment. He made his hand tremble as he passed it over the table. "Oh, I feel it." he said. "It's here, but it's trapped." He started imitating The Fly. "Help me, Help me." he said in a high pitched voice.

"Spencer," Lassiter said, moving toward him.

Shawn dodged out of reach. "I'm sensing something small." He started giggling and squirming. "And ticklish." He dodged Lassiter again. "I'm getting bands, combs, maybe a comb-over," he said with a smirk.

"Those are all things to do with hair," Gus said, playing along.

"I'm also getting a color," Shawn said. Lassiter was almost over to him so he rushed through the last bit, backing away quickly. "Old, but distinguished. A man just past his prime." Lassiter caught up to him and grabbed his arm. He started dragging Shawn out of the lab.

"Gray," Gus said.

At this Lassiter stopped. "A gray hair?" he asked Shawn.

"Yes!" Shawn said excitedly. "That is what I'm sensing. A gray hair, but trapped somehow."

Lassiter gestured to one of the forensics guys. "Check that table again," he ordered. "Look under everything to see if you find a gray hair."

There was a couple of tense moments while they waited for the forensics guy to search the table. Then –

"I found something." The tech held up a beaker, a gray hair stuck to the bottom. He pulled it off carefully with tweezers and stuck it in an evidence bag and handed the bag to Lassiter.

Lassiter dropped Shawn's arm and took the bag. "Perfect," he muttered quietly. "Now if only I had a motive to tie him to the murder."

"If you mean Dr. Pratt," Shawn asked, getting Lassiter's attention. "I'm sensing a rivalry between himself and Dr. Sanders."

"Really?" Lassiter said, interested. "Do you sense anything that could be a motive?" He looked at Shawn intently.

Unnerved by Lassiter actually paying attention to his visions, Shawn stumbled over his next words. "I heard – I mean I sensed, when he was here." Shawn stopped and took a deep breath. "I'm sensing the university was considering closing one of these two labs down," he finished, only slightly lacking his usual confidence.

Lassiter smiled. Shawn had never seen anything so creepy. "That sounds like motive to me. Excuse me gentlemen." He headed to the storage room and presumably to Pratt's lab.

Shawn looked over at Gus. "Dude, was that creepy or what?" he asked Gus, shivering.

"Definitely creepy," Gus agreed.

They heard loud voices coming through the doorway. Then a handcuffed Pratt came through being guided by a grinning Lassiter. "You can't do this to me," Pratt was yelling. "I am a prominent scientist. Unhand me!" He struggled against his handcuffs.

"You're murdering scum," Lassiter said, giving him a shake. He pushed Pratt past Shawn towards the door. "Good work, Spencer."

Shawn looked at Gus, stunned. "Did he just say what I thought I heard him just say?" he asked in disbelief.

"If you mean did I hear him praise you, then yeah, I heard it too," Gus said, shaking his head.

Shawn took a moment to try to wrap his head around it. "Nope, can't do it," Shawn said. He pointed at Gus. "Carlton Lassiter has been replaced by a pod person." He shivered, glancing around nervously. "We should go before one of us is next." He headed out the door into the hallway.

Forensics was packing up the last of their gear. Lassiter and Pratt were already out of sight and the crowd of students was starting to disperse. Shawn saw a flash of blue fabric and brown hair for a second, but it was gone before he could get a better look.

"Where now?" Gus asked, gaining his attention.

"Jerk chicken?" Shawn asked with a grin.

"You know that's right," Gus said.

With one last look down the nearly deserted hallway, Shawn followed Gus out of the building.