A/N: I must be doing something right with this fic. This is my first fic where I've gotten more than two reviews after the first chapter- in one day. So personally? I'm psyched! Like really psyched about that! I even did my dance of joy. So psyched! I mean -who wouldn't be? SIX REVIEWS! I fully admit to being a shameless review whore…Only now that I've admitted it – karma shall strike me and it'll be back to constant story alerts for me. Not that I mind, story alerts are just as awesome – it means that someone likes my fic enough that they want to be notified upon any updates. I love getting story alert messages just as much as I love reviews….Reviews just a little more though hehe.

Okay…my happy rant is over now sorry for the annoyance! As thanks for reading here's chapter 2!

Cheers!

~Matilda

P.S

Shassie fans rejoice, we get a little juicy in this chapter!

Determined

Totally not dead was the answer Lassiter was truly happy about, what he wasn't happy about was the fact that he still had a dead body on his hands. So far nothing had had come up, the DNA swab was still looking for a name to match the face, and the entire neighborhood was being searched. Lassiter had uniforms going door to door with a copy of the victim's picture asking citizens if they had any idea who the man was.

"How is it this difficult to find a positive I.D on a body?" Lassiter turned in his chair back to O'Hara who had been stepping into the station carrying with her a folder.

"Give it time." She encouraged. "We'll figure it out." O'Hara then promptly dropped the folder on Lassiter's desk. "Enhanced photos of the crime scene and the victim, I think we should ask Shawn to take a look."

"No." Lassiter didn't make it debatable. "He wasn't called in, and I'm personally okay with that. Besides I think after seeing the victim he'd just say it was cool and make a parent trap reference. I really don't need the distraction."

"Not even a tiny look?" O'Hara said. "He doesn't have to be brought fully on, but truthfully I'm a little tired of continuously running into a brick wall. I also think it'd be better if the photos were looked over by someone who wasn't emotionally distracted by the victim's genetic makeup."

She had a valid point, but Lassiter still didn't want to budge. "We'll be okay, O'Hara – things will begin running smoother once we get an I.D on the victim. Then we can start retracing his steps."

"Alright." Juliet gave in."You're right, I'm sorry." She then turned to grab her bag and leave.

"Where are you going?"

"Carlton it's after 10, I need sleep. I will be back here first thing in the morning." Juliet smiled and this time actually left. She was halfway across the parking lot before she was on her phone dialing for Shawn.

"He doesn't want you on the case." She sounded apologetic – but also nonchalant. "Are you surprised?"

"Course not." Shawn quipped. "Though I have to ask – the body really looks that much like me?"

"It's scary." Juliet admitted. "We actually thought…That you…Oh it wasn't fun at all let me just leave it at that." There was a long pause of silence as Juliet grabbed for her keys to unlock her car. "You're smiling right now aren't you?"

"So very much so." Shawn admitted, and he swore he could hear Juliet rolling her eyes. "Okay." Shawn moved on. "So Gus and I are technically 'not' on the case."

"Nope." Juliet confirmed. "If you think you can change Carlton's mind, be my guest. I however am going home."

"You're still at the station?" Shawn asked.

"Yeah, Carlton's in full work mode – almost made me feel guilty to leave. It's unsurprising that he'll probably be in the same shirt and tie when I head in tomorrow."

"Awesome, so just Lassie and I, one on one tonight – this is beautiful." Shawn sounded delighted.

"Shawn where are you?" Juliet stopped and started looking around the parking lot cautiously.

"Walking." Shawn answered. "Gus was tired so I let him go home."

"Shawn!" Juliet exclaimed. "You're wandering around by yourself? That's never a good idea."

"So protective." Shawn teased a bit. "No worries though, I'm about 2 blocks away from the station, you just head on home and I'll cozy up to Lassie for a ride."

"Okay." Juliet reluctantly agreed to leave Shawn be, but none the less she encouraged the psychic to text her when he got home later on. "Not a second later." She ordered.

"Yes mother dear."

They hung up and Juliet was on route home just as Shawn was coming up the police station's steps and slipping in through the main doors.

Lassiter was still at his desk, only he wasn't going over paper work, he was getting ready to go home to. An all nighter had been his initial plan but upon opening the folder to view the pictures, and Lassiter felt ill again. The first photo was of the victim's face.

Screw it, too tired.

Lassiter was calling it a day, slipping into his jacket and grabbing his brief case. He was just heading out the door. Only stopping when he bumped into Spencer who was on his way in.

"No cases today Spencer, I'm going home now."

Spencer raised a confused brow. "No cases – really? Not even since the body earlier?"

"You're not on this one Spencer, let it go." Again Lassiter was glad about that; it was bad enough the victim was practically the psychic's clone.

"Yeah okay I'm not on it – but I'd like to be." Shawn insisted. "Jules gave me to the guy's description and with all due respect – I think it's kind of cool. I want to see!"

Lassiter shook his head. "Spencer – no, absolutely not." He winced when he looked at Shawn then, because it wasn't Shawn he was looking at suddenly – it was a dead body that could be Shawn's. Lifeless eyes, limb arms, mouth agape, and a stab wound right in the middle of his neck.

"Lassie – Lassie?" It took a couple tries, but Shawn's voice brought Lassiter back down to earth, and he lowered his head.

"I have to go Spencer." Lassiter pushed pass Shawn quickly, unable to breathe in that exact moment. Shawn watched him leave, the 'psychic' feeling almost sad that the detective was ditching him. Shawn looked to McNabb who had been watching from nearby.

"What do you think that was about?" Shawn asked, and the young cop could only offer a small shrug. Shawn refusing to give up then turned and went after the detective.

"Lassie!" Shawn stopped him before he reached his car. "Can I at least see the photos?"

"No!" Lassiter put his foot down. "For god's sake Spencer just go home."

Go to where I don't have to look at you.

"Alright." Shawn gave up. "I'm going." He started to walk away, and that's when Lassiter noticed a lack of Gus and a lack of motorcycle nearby.

"Spencer- how the hell did you get here?" Lassiter called after him.

"Walked." Shawn answered. "I'm a grown man, its cool Lassie."

No, no it wasn't cool. Lassiter hated to think the worst, but he had this inkling fear that maybe Shawn was the killer's intent and that the poor victim was just a standby. Suddenly Lassiter envisioned a mad man in the shadows waiting to get Shawn alone. The image made Lassiter grit his teeth and go against his better judgment. "Spencer – get in the damn car."

Shawn turned, and smiled. "You sure?" He used a teasing tone – almost as if he had been planning this. "I don't want to impose."

"Car. Now." Lassiter used his cop voice, a voice Shawn always secretly thought was sexy – and he always endlessly badgered the detective just to hear it when he could.

"Done and done." Shawn was in the car in record timing, and waited for Lassiter to be driving before he snatched the folder out from his brief case.

"Spencer what the hell are you doing?"

"Peeking." Shawn insisted. He moved to open the folder, and the first picture he held up being of the victim's face. Shawn looked long and hard at it. "Eh…" Shawn shrugged. "I don't see it." Truthfully he did, but again he just felt like bugging the poor detective. He wasn't as bothered by the victim's appearance as much as everyone else was.

"What do you mean you don't see it?" Lassiter was more concerned with keeping his eyes on the road then he was looking at Spencer. "You could've been his twin for pete's sake!"

"I'm an only child." Shawn reminded the detective, Lassiter moved to say something but Shawn quickly cut him off. "Gus doesn't count."

Lassiter let that topic drop, but had to remind Shawn point blank. "You're still not on this case."

"Oh we'll just see about that." Shawn challenged, and without Lassiter knowing, he flipped through all of the photos taking them into memory. He recognized the area as Clydedale and made a mental note to poke around there tomorrow.

"Spencer I'm serious – no." Lassiter could see in his peripheral vision what Shawn was doing and he practically growled at the other man.

"Just hear me out." Shawn pleaded, and at that point Lassiter had pulled up to Shawn's apartment and was now in the process of trying to get him out of the car.

"I think you're looking in the wrong area." Shawn insisted. "It's a warehouse isn't it? Who willingly goes into a warehouse?"

"Don't you think I've already thought of that?" Lassiter argued. "But until we get an I.D on the body, this area is all we have."

"Okay…" Shawn agreed. "Just making sure… Now I'll be taking these photos and I'll be seeing you in the morning." Shawn grinned and didn't release the photos. He didn't really need them, he just really felt like bugging.

"The hell you will!" Lassiter snapped, and without really thinking Lassiter made a nose dive for the folder. Shawn had little to no time to react to the sudden assault but he did manage to hold the folder up and over his head. Much to Lassiter's dismay. "Give me that folder Spencer!"

"Make me!" Shawn quipped, and he was leaning back wards on his side looking for the door handle with his other hand. Lassiter had released himself from his seat belt and was now hovering over Shawn trying to get to the folder. The car was cramped and Shawn had a hard time vending off the detective without the use of his hands. He continued to fumble for the door handle while leaning lower and lower towards the car door, his other arm stretching in all different directions to keep the folder from being grabbed.

"Give me the damn folder Spencer!" Lassiter was getting frustrated, and Shawn continued to struggle from under him. It was a tad sickening - but in the back of the detective's mind he couldn't help but notice how easy it was to get Shawn under him. The friction of their bodies moving against each other was just a little more than distracting. Lassiter tried not to think too much of it – thinking was bad. Finally after a short and pointless struggle Lassiter managed to grab Shawn's wrist. Unfortunately his timing was off. Just as the folder was in the detective's reach, Shawn had found the door handle. It all happened it seconds then- the door flew open and both Shawn and Lassiter were falling out of the car in a tumble. Shawn landed on his back, and Lassiter landed right on top of him. The two men were breathing heavily.

"Permission to say that was fun?" Shawn huffed out, and that brought Lassiter's attention to Shawn's face – they were uncomfortably close.

"Absolutely not." Lassiter grumbled, and he had to wonder why he had yet to bother lifting himself off the younger man.

"So much fun!" Shawn challenged. "I mean – if we were naked, I'd totally be lighting a cigarette right now."

The word naked brought a peculiar image into Lassiter's head, the detective could feel himself turning red – and getting hot. He was officially disturbed. "I'm getting up now." Why he had to announce that? He had no idea. Before he could move though Shawn was gently pushing the folder against his chest.

"I believe this is yours." Shawn said. Lassiter looked down with the fullest attention of simply giving a sarcastic 'thank you', but instead his words got mumbled when his lips bumped into Shawn's.

It was pure accident, Lassiter did not mean for that to happen, at all – he fully intended to pull away and curse profusely. Only before he had a chance something odd happened. Shawn was adding pressure to their predicament and soon what was just an accident was turning into Spencer kissing him. It didn't last too long, and when Shawn pulled away Lassiter almost lost it.

"Spencer what the hell? !" Lassiter was getting up now, for real this time.

"Lassie…" Lassiter had never heard that tone in Shawn's voice before, Spencer was breathless. "Lassie I-"

Whatever he was going to say was forgotten; this time Lassiter was kissing Spencer – roughly. The folder slipped out from between them the contents scattering as it fell carelessly to the ground. Rough hands were cradling the psychic's head, and the kissing progressed from exploratory to more urgent. Shawn's arms were up and locking around the detective's back.

Shawn's lips were….Oh Lassiter didn't have words, he didn't even know what words were in that exact moment. The psychic moved in perfect rhythm with him, applying just as much pressure, and releasing the most irresistible keening noises. Lassiter was on auto pilot, his hands eventually moved to travel down Shawn's sides. Shawn's sides he discovered were sensitive, when the hem of Shawn's shirt rode up and Lassiter's hands came into contact with bare skin, Shawn moaned, and shivered against Lassiter's lips, his hips arching suggestively against Lassiter's. Lassiter's body clenched and he clutched onto the psychic's sides even harder, letting his nails dig into the skin just a little.

Shawn had turned into jelly; Lassie was a great kisser – who knew? At first Shawn thought nothing of kissing the detective. Yes – it was extremely weird, and he honestly expected to just have Lassie yell at him before Shawn just laughed it off. Not the case. A minute had barely passed and what was just innocent badgering had morphed into something more primal. Shawn's body moved on its own accord, pressing up against the detective wantonly, every inch of his body was responding to the detectives touch. There wasn't a question in his mind; Shawn just knew he needed more. For a brief second, Lassiter's mouth hovered over his just enough for Shawn to get out one strained word.

"Lassie…"

That one strained word was enough though, Lassiter came crashing back down to earth. He took it all in; the ground beneath them, the car door still ajar, photos lying helplessly in a pile to their side, Shawn's face completely flushed, his sides still warm under Lassiter's grip.

"Lassie?" This time when Shawn said Lassiter's name, he sounded unsure. Lassiter looked Shawn's face over again and realized what he had just been doing – with Spencer.

"Lassie?" Shawn tried again. Now Lassiter was really up, leaving Shawn on the ground as he stood. Shawn prepped himself up onto his forearms as Lassiter cursed violently and progressed to scoop up the folder and the pictures.

"Shit, god dammit, sunava stupid bitch!"

"Lassie – calm down." Shawn tried, and soon Shawn was on his feet too brushing himself off. "It couldn't have been that bad."

"You calm down!" Lassiter yelled. The detective was freaking right out. He was desperately trying to get the last few minutes out of his short term memory.

"Lassie – shit." Shawn swore. "Its fine, we'll just forget about it okay? Relax."

"Don't tell me what to do Spencer!" Lassiter was right in Shawn's face then. "You are to stay far – FAR away from the station during this case – clear?" Lassiter's face was contorted just a little, and if it had been a different situation Shawn would've been laughing his ass off.

"Clear." Shawn confirmed, though in his mind he was totally crossing his fingers.

Lassie's over thinking this, waaay too much.

Shawn was comfortable in his sexuality, he liked girls – he liked guys. That's always how he's been; Lassiter it seemed wasn't comfortable at all. Despite the fact Shawn's feelings were hurt, he sympathized with the detective.

Adult closet cases are always the most nerve racking.

Shawn remembered the last time he had spent time with an adult closet case. The guy was a good kisser and Shawn had really liked him, but sadly he refused to admit to being anything other than straight. Shawn was determined to help the poor sap out, but instead the poor sap had introduced Shawn's face to his fist before running off to join the nearest congregation. Shawn smirked at the memory.

"That face." Lassiter stopped at the expression. "What was that face for?"

"Oh nothing." Shawn played it off- That was a story Lassiter didn't need to hear. "Just take your folder and go, the sooner you finish this case the sooner things can start returning to normal. I like normal Lassie – how about you?"

"Normal." Lassiter nodded curtly. "Normal is good. Okay so we agree. Normal." Lassiter took a breathe, he felt bad for yelling but honestly he couldn't make sense of himself at the moment. He needed to talk to somebody – anybody….Anybody but Spencer.

"I'm Leaving now." Lassiter huffed, and he left for his car. Shawn just crossed his arms and watched Lassiter leave. The smirk had returned to Shawn's face, and the 'psychic' was now determined to get to the bottom of this case. Reaching for his phone, Shawn let himself into his apartment as he dialed Gus.

"Dude I know it's late, but you have to pick me up tomorrow and take me to Clyedale Avenue. You and I are starting our own investigation."

Shawn's plan was to get as involved in the case as he could, proving to Lassiter once and for all that he wasn't all jokes. Mostly jokes, but Shawn had a more serious side to him that not many people say for Gus were really familiar with. These bouts of seriousness never lasted too long, always passing when Shawn met a specific goal. This goal? Finding his doppelganger's killer before Lassie. Why was he so suddenly determined to do this? Well Lassiter's reaction to what had just happened had Shawn feeling mostly hurt – but also angry. Yes. Shawn was angry, and he planned on venting out his anger in the only way he knew how, by screwing around in police work.

Lassiter was oblivious to this more serious side of Spencer that he unintentionally unleashed. He was too busy focusing on the road trying not to crash. Lord help him he was so flustered, a quick glance in the rear view mirror and he was still red in the face.

"Shit shit shit shit…"

The scene kept replaying in his mind, and Lassiter would not – could not, let it get the better of him. He was on a case, and he was going to finish it. Without Spencer. That was it. No arguments. After about 20 minutes of driving Lassiter finally found his way back to his house, but he didn't get out of his car right away. Instead he sat there in silence for a few minutes taking deep breathes.

"Hate…my life.." Lassiter cursed, and he pressed his head against his steering wheel letting the horn drown his train of thought, it worked – a little. Not enough though. As soon as Lassiter lifted his head he could see Shawn's face in his head again. Only it wasn't Shawn – it was the victim, and the victim wasn't completely dead, he was laughing at the detective through lifeless eyes. Lassiter shook his head to banish the image. "Good god I'm going crazy…"

Sigh. Crazy or not Lassiter still had a case. Exiting his car; Lassiter made for his house, determined to get some form of rest that night. Despite Spencer and despite everything that happened in the last 10 hours.