Author's Note: I just want to thank everyone for reviews and alerts. I only read one review (that made my day), but I'm so glad that about 4 people have alerted this story. It just makes me feel so good, thank you so much. *hands out chocolate covered pineapple christmas cookies*
Oh, and I'm going to be gone from the December 21st to about January 4th or 5th, so Loosing Lassie will be on hold until them.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Psych characters or the TV show Psych in general.

Shawn had never been more angry or upset in his life. Well, there had been that time back when he and Gus were Juniors that involved the squashed pineapple, but he'd finally gotten over that.

He just didn't get it, how could Lassie hate him so much? Shawn had been nice (well, pushing papers off his desk and sitting in the detective's lap wasn't exactly nice, but it wasn't really that bad), so why was the head detective so mean?

The fake psychic rarely held grudges or kept vital information from people, but that last comment from Lassie had been to much. So because of that, Shawn had decided to keep the fact that there were 7 armed dangerous men at the warehouse. But Lassie could take care of himself, he'd taken on 10 men before. But then again the men had only been armed with sticks.

After arriving home, Shawn had found a note from Gus taped to his fridge, along with a week's supply of pineapple and pineapple flavored food. Turned out that Gus had been called off to some conference and hadn't had time to inform anyone. So with both Gus and Jules gone, Shawn really had no choice but to hang out with his favorite head detective, even if he was angry at him.

Shrugging Shawn entered the police department. It had been 24 hours since he had last spoken with the detective, and he was anxious to find out how Lassiter had reacted when he saw the armed men.

Smiling to himself the young man walked over to Lassiter's desk, not noticing just how busy the stations was. It didn't register in his mind that something was wrong until he noticed the detective's desk looked exactly the same as the night before. Lassie had not returned since he had went to arrest the robbers.

It was as if his stomach fell out. What if he had been the cause of Lassie-face getting hurt? Sure, he had been upset, but it was only supposed to teach the older man to be a little nicer. Well, Shawn didn't know for a fact that little ol' Lassie was hurt, maybe he had just slept in. Yes, that had to be the reasons. Lassiter couldn't get hurt, it wasn't possible.

But the minute the fake psychic walked into the Chief's office, he knew Lassiter hadn't slept in.

"Mr. Spencer, so good for you to actually show up. We've been trying to call you for nearly 2 hours." the Chief said, sternly looking at the young man standing in her office.

Shrugging Shawn refused to meet the woman's gaze as he said, "Gus took my phone away, I was going way over my minutes."

Rolling her eyes the Chief called Buzz along with two officers Shawn didn't know also into the room. "As you four might know, Detective Lassiter has failed to come into work or contact us in anyway." she said, sitting down in her chair. "We all know the detective, and he is not one to call in if he is sick. Hell, he's one to come to work even if he is sick." she added in a small voice, managing a smile.

Shaking her head slightly the Chief looked up at Shawn. "We're getting pretty worried Mr. Spencer, so if you feel anything, please let us know."

Shawn knew it would be easy to just tell them where Lassie had gone, but he still was Shawn, so of course he needed to make it more interesting. Putting a hand on either side of his head, the fake psychic scrunched his face up, as if concentrating. "I...I see a tall man. Blue eyes, striking features, sweet Irish hairline... It's Lassie! He... he went to a warehouse alone to arrest the robbers from the huge bank case!" Opening his eyes Shawn quickly grabbed a pad of paper and a pencil, scribbling down the address he had seen on Lassie's desk.

Standing up quickly the Chief smiled. "This is good. McNabb, Bronze, Berghout, go to the address, and take Mr. Spencer with you. He might be able to find something else there."

The three officers nodded and quickly walked out of the room, Shawn following close behind. He had to find Lassie, it was his fault after all. He was never ever ever going to withhold information from Lassie-face or anyone ever again.

-MEANWHILE IN SOME RANDOM FOREST IN IDAHO-

"Uggh." Lassiter said, rubbing his head. Looking around he blinked, confuse evident on his face. Where was he? Or more important, who was he?

Currently the man was laying on his back, his head throbbing as if something heavy had hit him. Glancing down at his clothes, the confused look grew. He was in a suit, a nice suit by the looks of it (if it wasn't ripped and covered in dirt), and dress shoes along with a red tie. Not something that someone would wear while hiking around in a forest. Not that he knew, maybe he was part of some weird cult that did that. And was that a gun holster he was wearing?

Scrambling to his feet Lassiter did a 360, trying to find anything at all that made sense. He didn't know who he was, where he was, or why he was in the middle of some forest wearing good clothes. Or why his head hurt like hell. Wincing at the pain the man took a few steps forward, stumbling and falling face first in the dirt.

The world was spinning now, and Lassiter barely recognized the sound of voices coming closer. He mumbled something about calling Spencer (whoever the hell Spencer was) before his world blacked out again.

-(Approximately 3 Hours Later; Still in Idaho)-

Groaning, Lassiter blinked his eyes a few times, the light way to bright in the room. Falling back into the comfy bed the man sighed.

Wait, room? Bed? Shooting straight up, Lassiter reached for his gun, ready to shoot. But it wasn't there. Blinking, the man glanced down at his side. His gun holster was gone, along with his tie and jacket. And why had he reached for his gun in the first place? What if these people were nice? He wouldn't want to shoot them.

Glancing around, Lassiter's eyes snapped onto the only person in the room, a tall man who seemed to be in his late 20's, early thirties, who was leaning against the door frame. The man had short brown hair and hazel eyes. Smiling the man walked over to the side of the bed and took Lassiter's hand.

"Oh David! I'm so glad you're awake!"

So, there's chapter two! I hope it's good and you didn't get completely bored or anything.

Oh, and sorry my chapters are so short... I just can't make long ones, I don't know what's wrong, I think I have a phobia of writing long chapters.

Please review, they make my day so much better.

Happy Holidays!

EDIT: I just realized, the man I described sounds almost exactly like Shawn. But he isn't Shawn, he's a different person entirely. I won't say anything else, because that will give it away.