Back at the station, Lassiter and O'Hara were questioning Kurt and his parents in one of the interrogation rooms. Savannah and Catie were following up the case with a few more questions for McNab and Gus in one of the conference rooms; Lassiter had put them there to make sure no one would see McNab hanging around with Gus. The last thing they needed was for someone to start asking questions.
"Is this a typical day for you two?" Savannah asked. "I can't imagine being thrown from one case to another."
"Typically it takes us a couple days to solve a case. The police rarely call us in on robberies and fires. This was an exception since you were here." Gus gave them both a smile. "We usually only get called when it's a murder."
"I must say it was interesting to see which information you divined from the crime scene and which evidence the detectives were able to get from that. Is each crime scene similar?"
"Each crime scene has its own level of psychic tells," Buzz started to explain. He had gotten so comfortable being in the character of Shawn that he was sitting with his feet propped up on the table.
Lassiter poked his head through the conference room door. "Get your feet off the table," he snapped. "C'mon, I need you two to sign your statements so you can get paid for this." He motioned for McNab and Gus to follow him.
"We'll be right back." Gus assured the reporters.
Once they had left, Savannah started organizing her notes on the story. "This is going to make a great article. It'll be a lot more interesting then I thought it would be when we got assigned this interview."
"Yeah," Catie replied distractedly. "It's just weird..." She trailed off and regained her thoughts. "Sometimes it feels like Shawn is putting on an act. I mean no one is that spastic, right?"
Savannah nodded in agreement. A cell phone rang and Catie noticed Gus' phone on the table where he had been sitting.
"Should we answer it?" She reached for the phone. "Weird, it says Shawn Spencer is calling."
"Answer it," Savannah encouraged her.
"Hello Shawn," Catie greeted the psychic. She put the phone on speaker and set it on the table.
"Gus?" Shawn's confused voice came over the phone. "Gus, did you forget your phone on the counter at Starbucks again? You know that people just use it to prank call your friends."
"Shawn?" Savannah sounded just as confused as Shawn did. "Aren't you supposed to be signing your statement with Gus?"
There was silence on the line as Shawn tried to figure out what was going on. "Of course I am." He forced a laugh. "I realized Gus forgot his phone so I called it."
Catie gave Savannah a doubtful look, and they both went to the door and looked out towards the main part of the station. Lassiter was standing with Gus and McNab near the front desk, and none of them were using a phone.
"You're up front with Gus and Lassiter?" Savannah asked the Shawn on the phone.
"Yeah, you know, signing papers and stuff for the case."
"Uh, okay," Catie responded. She grabbed the phone and carried it with her as she motioned for Savannah to follow her. They walked closer to the front desk. "So, I'm sure you liked the brown shirt I was wearing today," she commented into the phone.
"Oh yeah, the brown was awesome; it really brought out your eyes," Shawn agreed.
Savannah raised an eyebrow as she looked down at Catie's yellow t-shirt.
"Hey guys!" McNab greeted them as they got to the front desk. "What's up?"
"Oh, nothing much; just talking with Shawn Spencer on the phone." Catie put the phone down on the desk. She crossed her arms and quirked an eyebrow at the three men.
Gus' face fell when he saw the picture ID on the phone; the pineapple image on the caller id showing that it was indeed Shawn.
"Gus?" Shawn's voice floated over the speaker. "Gus, what is going on?"
Juliet came over from filing paperwork for the case. "Was that Shawn?" she asked, momentarily forgetting their charade.
"Seriously, someone needs to tell me what is going on." Shawn sounded almost angry now.
"We'll get back to you," Lassiter said as he pushed the end call button.
Gus snatched up his phone and braved a glance at the reporters. Neither of them looked very happy.
"Does the department employ two psychics named Shawn Spencer?" Savannah was trying to keep her voice calm.
"Of course not; one Spencer is enough," Lassiter replied.
"So ... if that was Shawn ..." Catie began. She turned and gave McNab a slightly suspicious look. "Does someone mind telling us what's going on?"
McNab's face was bright red, and he was studying the laces on his shoes as if they would save him from embarrassment. "My name is Buzz McNab, and I'm an officer here with the department," he mumbled, not looking away from his feet.
"Why isn't Shawn here?" Savannah wanted to know. "And why were you impersonating him?"
"He couldn't make the interview, and we knew it was important to the department and to Back Up," Gus explained.
Catie still didn't sound impressed. "So, you guys got a fake psychic?"
"All the visions and psychic clues were from Shawn. He called us about all of them," Gus pointed out.
"I told you this was a bad idea," Lassiter mumbled in O'Hara's ear.
Juliet glared at her partner and continued with the explanation. "If it makes you feel better, it was Shawn's idea. He really did want to be here."
"I don't know if makes us feel better," Catie was clearly still annoyed, "since you lied to us about the whole thing."
"Where is the real Shawn now?" Savannah wanted to know.
"He's at home sick," Gus admitted. "He caught a cold yesterday."
Savannah crossed her arms. "And you thought this was the best way to handle things? Why not just call and let us know?"
"You guys would've just thought he was a fake," Gus used the same argument he'd given Shawn earlier that day.
"No we wouldn't ..." Catie was perplexed. "We travel around interviewing weird and unusual law enforcement people all the time. We would have understood."
"Shawn just has a cold?" Savannah changed the subject when she realized everyone else looked completely chastised about the situation. Gus looked up at her and nodded. "Well, I got my flu shot for this year," she continued, "so I say we brave it. We'll go interview him."
Shawn sat on his couch waiting for his phone to ring. Every time he tried calling Lassiter, Juliet or Gus, they always ignored the call and sent it straight to voice mail. His trashcan was overflowing with Kleenex, and there were dozens of wrappers littered around him from his cough drops.
As the door opened, Shawn looked to see who it was. Living in an old dry cleaners had its perks, but it also had the downside of people wandering in thinking it still was a dry cleaners. "Hello?" he called out before coughing. "Sorry, we're not open anymore." Gus came around the corner, followed by McNab. "Oh, hey buddy, thanks for not answering my calls."
"Shawn, we had a lot of explaining to do," Gus brushed the complaint off.
"Why'd you bring Buzz?" Shawn narrowed his eyes. "Did you bring him over here to break up with me as best friends? I knew it! I get sick, and you go out and replace me. Well, good luck with your new friend and his not amazing hair."
"No, no." McNab held out his hands defensively. "I would never get between the two of you. We just had to bring the reporters over here, and we wanted to make sure you were okay with that."
"You brought the reporters?" Shawn turned to Gus. "You weren't actually supposed to tell them McNab wasn't me, you know."
"I wasn't going to tell them, but someone called my phone and talked to them and they figured it out on their own," Gus retorted, crossing his arms and giving his friend a stern look.
"Well I'm sorry you can't remember to put your phone in your pocket or at least password protect it." Shawn coughed and reached for another tissue.
McNab had been waiting patiently for them to finish bickering about who was to blame for the charade collapsing but finally spoke up. "So, I'll go tell Lassiter that he can bring them in here." He made a quick exit as Shawn turned to Gus with the most offended look he could muster.
"Dude, you brought Lassie, too?" Shawn complained. "You know he's only going to make fun of the place. You didn't let Jules come too, did you?"
"Juliet's already been here. Unless that children's medicine is now making you forget the time you got shot."
"No, I remember that really well, seeing as how I wasn't here, buddy. I was in the trunk of a car with a hole in my shoulder. And you never told me you brought her here!" It was now Shawn's turn to cross his arms.
"Spencer, this place is a sty," Lassiter ended the conversation for them as he came in followed by Juliet and the reporters. "Although, I'm not surprised after seeing your office." He eyed the piles of takeout boxes and the stack of DVDs around the TV.
Shawn gave Gus an 'I told you so' look before turning his attention back to Lassiter. "At least mine has style, Lassie. Compared to yours, which, you know, has absolutely none."
Lassiter glared at Shawn, but didn't have time to get a come back in before Juliet took control.
"Shawn, this is Catie and Savannah. They're reporters with Back Up." She motioned to the reporters.
Shawn gave them a smile, but it didn't last long when he saw that irritated look in their eyes.
"So you're Shawn Spencer?" Savannah asked.
"The real Shawn Spencer," Catie added, just to make sure.
"Guilty as charged."
Catie looked around the room. "At least you're really sick," she commented as she eyed the multiple boxes of Kleenex stacked around Shawn.
Shawn managed to look offended. "I'd rather not be, as a matter of fact."
Savannah pulled out her recorder. "Do you want to change clothes, since we're going to take some pictures?"
Shawn looked down at his plaid lounge pants and green Apple Jacks t-shirt. "Yeah, I think I might."
"I think you should," Lassiter put in. Everyone in the room turned to look at him. He shrugged. "What? I want the article to look good, or at least coordinated."
Shawn shrugged in agreement. He shifted and tried to get out from under all the stuff he had been using that day. In the end, he just pushed everything on the floor and headed for his bedroom.
He emerged a few minutes later wearing jeans and a red plaid shirt open over a grey shirt with the A-Team logo across the chest.
"Aren't you forgetting shoes, Spencer?" Lassiter grumbled.
"I'm not going out," Shawn objected as he wiped his nose with another tissue. He grabbed a miniature bottle of hand sanitizer from the coffee table and applied it liberally to his hands. "By the way, thanks for these, Gus." He pointed to an entire basket of the bottles labeled with different drug company brands.
"Shawn, those were for my clients!" Gus exclaimed.
"They were on your desk and the sign said free," Shawn defended himself.
"Maybe we should start the interview," Juliet suggested as Shawn sat back down in his seat on the couch.
Savannah moved a stack of DVDs and sat down on the corner of Shawn's coffee table. She put her recorder on her knee and balanced her notebook on the other. "Alright, so when we were out today we met your father. I understand that he's a retired police officer. How did his career influence the way you chose to use your psychic abilities?"
Shawn shifted uncomfortably. "My dad always wanted me to be a cop. I guess he would say that this is me fulfilling his dream."
"Is that what you would say?" Savannah followed up.
"I ..." Shawn trailed off.
"Shawn's dad is proud of what he does," Gus interjected. "I know it's not the way that he originally wanted Shawn to help out, but Shawn puts people behind bars, just like his dad did when he was on the force."
Savannah jotted down some notes and then asked the next question. "How old were you when you decided this was what you wanted to do for a living? I mean, I'm sure you thought of doing other things at some point, right?"
"I have done a lot of other things," Shawn agreed. "I had roughly eighteen and a half jobs while I searched for my perfect fit. I didn't discover that I wanted to be a psychic detective until the ripe old age of twenty-nine."
Lassiter snorted in laughter.
Shawn raised an eyebrow. "Something to add, Lassifrass?"
"I was just thinking that you were still a five year old child," the detective retorted.
"At least I was a child at some point," Shawn pointed out.
"Okay." Savannah interrupted as the usual banter between Shawn and Lassiter picked up speed. "Shawn, what is your favorite thing about working with the police?"
Shawn turned his attention back to her, "Well, one of my favorite things is putting the prefix Lassi- on another word. Lassie, Lassiface, Lassifrass ..."
"Lassisota," Catie added, thinking back to McNab's version.
"Lassisota ..." Shawn repeated. "I like it. Nice one, Buzz!"
Buzz grinned.
"Another thing I like is the chance to work with such lovely ladies as yourselves," Shawn continued, winking at Catie as she snapped a picture.
Rolling his eyes, Lassiter crossed his arms and opened his mouth. Juliet elbowed him to interrupt whatever he was about to say.
"Okay." Savannah cleared her throat, giving Shawn a small smile. "So, what would you say you've learned the most from working with the department?"
Shawn thought for a second before answering. "I'd say that I've learned that the police are on the right track most of the time; they just need a psychic nudge to put them completely on the right track."
Savannah and Catie both looked a little puzzled at his answer. "Well, thank you for your time." Savannah stood up from her seat. "I think between these questions and the information everyone else gave us, we have enough for a solid article."
"You're still going to write the article?" Lassiter asked, a little shocked.
"We have a job, just like all of you," Catie reminded him as she started putting away her camera. "If we don't turn in something, our editor won't be very happy."
Once the reporters' car was out of sight, Lassiter turned to Shawn. "Well this is fine and dandy. I'm so glad your idea worked out so well," he snapped, the sarcasm clearly visible in his voice.
"I'm not the one who messed up my idea," Shawn defended himself.
"Actually, you are."
Shawn gave Lassiter a grin. "I've heard it both ways."
"But it was still your idea," Gus pointed out.
"I didn't think I did such a bad job," McNab put in.
"Well, it isn't hard to run around and make ridiculous claims on cases," Lassiter retorted.
"Guys!" Juliet was frustrated with the bickering. "It's over now; if we're lucky, they won't call the chief, and she'll just see the article when it comes out. Now, I have paperwork to file at the station from the Michaels' fire."
Lassiter continued to glare at Shawn as he followed Juliet out the door.
McNab mumbled a good-bye and ran to catch up when he realized they were his ride as well, leaving Shawn and Gus standing in the doorway of Shawn's apartment.
"You still owe me for those hand sanitizers," Gus reminded his friend. "Now get some sleep; I've got to go clean up your dad's mess at my apartment."
Shawn watched him get in the Blueberry and then went back inside to finish his season of Magnum P.I.
Two weeks later, Shawn was back on his feet and solving cases again. He and Gus were at the station picking up their check from a suspected train station robbery, which turned out to be the work of a drug gang.
"Good morning, detectives!" Shawn proclaimed as he spied Lassiter and Juliet huddled around the head detective's desk. Shawn paused when he saw McNab there as well.
"Is that the new issue of Back Up?" Gus asked when he saw the magazine spread out on the desk.
Juliet nodded. "Savannah and Catie sent us an issue overnight so we'd get to see it before anyone else."
"What does it say about me?" Shawn grabbed for the magazine. Lassiter reluctantly let him have it, and Shawn flipped until he found a page with a picture of all of them huddled around the couch in his apartment. "Oh man, my hair looks atrocious."
"Just read the article," Gus said impatiently.
Juliet took the magazine from Shawn, cleared her throat, and began reading aloud.
"In the world of police work, there are the normal everyday procedures that have been used time and again, and then there are newer approaches. Psychic detectives are one of the latter, but even psychics cannot always foresee everything that gets thrown their way."
"Hey!" Shawn protested. "I knew I was going to be sick; I just didn't know when."
Giving him a stern look for interrupting, Juliet continued. "Whether it is something as important as a bullet or as seemingly small as a cold, they only serve to remind us that Shawn Spencer is still human, just like the rest of us."
"What do they say about the rest of us?" Lassiter grabbed the paper out of his partner's hands.
"Careful!" Juliet protested when the page tore slightly.
"Spencer, the head psychic with the Santa Barbara Police department," Lassiter picked up reading where Juliet stopped, "is called in when a case stumps the more traditional detectives, like head detective Carlton Lassiter, or when it doesn't even look like a case at all." Lassiter rolled his eyes and handed the magazine to Gus. "That's ridiculous; I've solved hundreds of cases without the two of you," he grumbled.
Gus found the next paragraph and continued reading. "Any good hero needs a good sidekick, and Spencer has found the Robin to his Batman in Burton Guster, his friend since childhood."
"Funny, I would have gone with the Captain America and Bucky analogy," Shawn commented.
Gus ignored him and kept reading. "Guster, or Gus as he likes to be called, isn't the only friend Shawn has. We also met Buzz McNab, a rookie officer in the department, and Detectives Lassiter and Juliet O'Hara."
"You guys really think I'm your friend?" McNab looked hopeful.
"I hope friend is a loose term," Lassiter grunted.
"Carlton," Juliet scolded.
Shawn snatched the magazine from Gus' hands and picked up the reading. "It might seem strange to talk about friends in an article on psychic detective work, but without these friends, this article never would have been written." Shawn frowned and flipped through the next two pages. "This goes on forever!" he complained.
"Just do what you did for the last Harry Potter book and skip to the end," Gus suggested.
Shawn found the end of the article and started reading the last few paragraphs. "Between a fire, a robbery, and trying to be a real psychic, Buzz McNab proved his true colors by being a real friend. Detectives Lassiter and O'Hara could have easily brushed off these reporters and left us to uncover this story by ourselves, but they helped out Shawn and gave us a taste of what old school police work is all about." Shawn looked up at Lassiter. "See Lassie, your face didn't scare them off."
"My face ...?" Lassiter looked confused.
Shawn ignored him and kept reading. "Burton Guster kept us entertained and filled us in on what being a psychic is all about, which dear readers, includes having friends. If there is one thing we can all learn from Shawn Spencer and the folks here at the SBPD, it is that friendship is one of the most valuable assets in any field."
When Shawn finished, no one said anything. McNab finally coughed to break the awkward silence.
"At least they didn't rat us out completely," Gus acknowledged.
Juliet scanned the part of the article they hadn't read. "They talk about Buzz playing Shawn, but they don't say anything about a fake crime scene."
"That's because, as far as they know, it was real." Lassiter reminded her.
As Juliet flipped the magazine closed, the door to the chief's office swung open and a familiar voice addressed the group.
"Detectives, Officer McNab, may I see you in my office please?"
Shawn leapt to his feet. "Well, we really should be going ..."
"Mr. Spencer," Vick's voice stopped him in his tracks, "I need to see you and Mr. Guster, as well."
Lassiter gave Shawn and Gus a withering look and stalked across the station to the chief's office. The others followed him, each giving the other a silent look to not tell her anything besides what was in the article.
After all, what else were friends for?