Thursday

A muffled pounding woke Shawn up the next morning. Listening as the remnants of his last dream faded away (something involving a cage match between Hacksaw Jim Duggan and a giant pineapple), he realized the pounding was coming from the front door. He groaned and curled up with the blankets over his head. "Go away," he grumbled into his pillow. The pounding continued. In addition to the pounding, he could hear what sounded like someone shouting "Shawn!" He peered blearily at the alarm clock. He could just make out the time; 7:15. "It's barely morning," he moaned, covering his head with his pillow. He never liked mornings. He rarely rose before 9 if he could help it. Plus, he had been up most of the night worrying about both his cases. He had no leads on Sanders' killer and no idea what to do about Nikki. So he really didn't need to get up at what was practically the middle of the night, by his standards.

The pounding stopped. He sighed in relief. Whoever it was must have given up. It couldn't have been that important anyway. If it was, they would have tried calling him by now. Deciding there was nothing pressing that required his immediate attention, at least for a couple of hours, he tried to fall back asleep. He was just drifting off when someone barged into his bedroom. "Shawn!"

He immediately jerked awake. He scrambled around, trying to see who it was, got tangled in the sheets, and fell out of bed. As he tried to free himself from the death grip of the sheets, he heard laughter coming from the doorway. Looking up, he saw Gus standing there, clutching his sides as he laughed at Shawn's predicament. "Not funny, dude," he said testily, still struggling to get out of one of the sheets. Gus just laughed harder. Ripping off the sheet at last, he sat down on the edge of the bed. "How did you even get in here?" he asked.

"You gave me a key, remember?" Gus said, quieting down.

"Right, yeah," he said, remembering. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, trying to kickstart his brain. He had been making copies of Gus's keys for years. It made it easier to get into his place while Gus was out. Recently, Gus had been demanding a copy of his key in return. It mostly sat unused, unless Gus was retrieving something Shawn had 'borrowed' with his own key. "Just don't tell Juliet you have a key. She would kill me." At the thought of Juliet, he realized she wasn't in the room. "Where is Jules, anyway?"

"At the crime scene. Where you're supposed to be," Gus said. He frowned at Shawn. "Don't you ever charge your phone?"

"I charged it," he protested. He reached over to the night stand and started digging through the detritus on top. "See," he said, holding the phone up for Gus. He pressed a button. Nothing happened. He fiddled with the phone for a minute, then looked sheepishly at Gus. "I thought I charged it."

"That's what Juliet figured when she couldn't reach you," Gus said. "She called me to wake you up and bring you to the crime scene."

He vaguely remembered Juliet getting a phone call earlier that morning. Too early. She had said something to him, but he had just mumbled and gone back to sleep. She probably didn't think at the time he was needed on the case, or she would have tried harder to wake him up. "Let me throw some clothes on and we can go," he said.

"I'll be waiting outside," Gus said. He left the room.

He threw the sheets back on the bed, then quickly dressed. He made sure to grab his car charger for his phone, then headed outside to meet Gus. It looked like it was going to be another long day.


"How much farther?" Shawn asked with a whine. He and Gus were traipsing across the damp fields of Howell Park, headed for the trail head. It hadn't seemed that far on the map, but it felt like they had been walking for hours.

"About 30 seconds less than the last time you asked," Gus said irritably. He could tell his friend was getting annoyed by the question and grinned to himself. "I told you in the car. It's about a 20 minute walk." Up ahead they could just make out yellow police tape cordoning off an area of the trail head. "We're almost there."

"Finally," he said dramatically. "Civilization! A beacon out of this horrid wilderness!" He fell to his knees, arms outstretched to the sky.

"Will you get up?" Gus snapped, pulling Shawn to his feet. "We're in a park. There are people right over there." He pointed out a couple enjoying an early morning stroll with their dog. He shook his head. "I knew stopping for coffee was a bad idea. It makes you hyperactive."

"And also hyperobservant," Shawn added. He wiped at the damp grass stains on his pants. "Which means I'll notice whatever the cops missed even quicker." He started walking again, bouncing slightly with each step. Coffee did make him more jittery than normal.

"How do you know they'll miss anything?" Gus asked reasonably.

He gave Gus a knowing look. "They always miss something. Otherwise we would have been out of business years ago." Gus didn't seem to have an argument for that. "Tell me again what Jules said about the body."

"It was found soon after the park opened by a young couple on their morning hike," Gus said. Shawn made a face. Who in their right mind wakes up this early to exercise? "The police thought he might be homeless until they saw the acid burns on his face and hands," Gus finished.

"Acid burns?" he asked. That wasn't a common MO, especially if the victim was homeless. Acid strong enough to cause burns wasn't readily available to most people either. However, if one worked in a chemistry lab, they would have easy access to a smörgåsbord of dangerous chemicals. The question is, why would someone burn a homeless man with acid? Unless he wasn't really homeless. "Dude, I think this death is related to the Sanders' case," he said excitedly. He started jumping in excitement.

"Maybe that's why the police called you in," Gus said, eyeing him. He grabbed his arm to hold him still. "Will you calm down? You're acting like a hyperactive five year old." They had reached the crime scene and he glanced around to see if anyone had noticed Shawn's antics.

"You're acting like a five year old," he said, sticking his tongue out at Gus. He flinched at Gus's glare. "OK," he said placatingly. "I'll try to calm down."

"Good," Gus said. "Because you don't need another reason for Lassiter to block us from this case." He nodded towards the detective, now visible behind the crime scene tape.

"Lassie-face," Shawn called, waving to the detective. "Isn't it a lovely morning?"

"Spencer, how nice of you to join us," Lassiter said, walking towards them. "It's only been what, an hour, since we called you?" He gave Shawn a deprecating grin.

"Carlton, play nice," Juliet said, coming up to stand next to her partner. She smiled at her boyfriend. "Nice to see your finally awake Shawn." She turned to Gus. "Thanks for getting him. Did he forget to charge his phone again?"

"Yes," Gus said. "I had to pound on the door for 10 minutes before he would even get up." He shook his head as if to say 'That's Shawn for you.'

"He really doesn't like to wake up early," she said in agreement. "When I get up for work, he usually just rolls over and goes back to sleep."

"You should have seen him in high school," Gus said. "He almost didn't graduate because of the number of times he was late for homeroom."

"I'd believe it," Juliet said. "Sometimes it feels like I'm living with a teenager." Gus nodded sympathetically, causing her to smile.

Shawn watched this exchange with disbelief. "You do know I'm standing right here," he said, causing both parties to look at him. "Right in front of you. Hearing everything your saying." He held up his hand and waved it in front of Gus's face. "I haven't turned invisible, have I?"

Gus slapped his hand away. "We can see you Shawn," he said. "But it would be nice if you were a little more responsible." He gave Shawn a disappointed look.

"Enough talking about me," he said in frustration. "Shouldn't we be discussing the case?" He turned to Lassiter. "Lassie, you hate personal stuff. Tell them to 'get back to work', or 'leave that crap at home,'" he said, using his best 'Lassiter' voice.

"I don't know," Lassiter said with an amused grin. "I think I might let it slid, just this once." He grinned wider at Shawn's discomfort.

"Then I'll just investigate on my own," he said, turning his nose up at them. He stormed off into the woods in a huff.

After a second, Juliet caught up with him. "We were just joking around," she said soothingly. "Don't take it so personally." When he didn't respond, she pulled him to a stop. "What's bothering you?" she asked, giving his face a searching look.

He gave her a weak grin. "Just didn't get enough sleep, I guess," he said. He couldn't tell her he was starting to feel a little overwhelmed. Both cases were becoming more complicated than he originally thought. He was almost glad for this new body, if it provided some insight into the Sanders' case.

He was also getting tired of the constant comments about his immaturity. He knew how his actions looked to others. But goofing around was how he coped with the stress the police cases brought on. If he started taking things too seriously, he'd probably snap. He had come close a few times in the past, particularly after his dad was shot. He didn't want to come that close again.

A noise behind him broke his train of thought. Lassiter and Gus were walking through the woods towards them. "I'll be fine," he said, giving Juliet a reassuring grin. She nodded, but still looked a little worried. He motioned Juliet to lead the way and continued heading through the woods.

Lassiter and Gus caught up with them just as they reached the clearing with the body. Gus took one look at it and started making those weird noises he did when he was trying not to throw up. "Excuse me," he said, walking off into the woods. Shawn could see him about 20 feet away, leaning against a tree, taking deep breaths.

He moved closer to the body to get a better look. He couldn't blame Gus for his reaction. The victim was laying on his back, giving everyone a perfect view of his horribly burned face. The skin looked like it had almost melted. He also noticed the same burns on the victim's hands. He was dressed in torn jeans and a raggedy t-shirt. He wasn't wearing shoes or socks. A jagged slash across his throat made cause of death clear.

"Victim appears to be in his twenties," Lassiter said after a moment. All trace of joking was gone from his voice. "No id found on the body and those burns will make a facial match or fingerprinting impossible." He pointed to a path of disturbed leaves through the woods. "Victim was dragged here from the trail head. Tire tracks showed the victim was transported using one of the park's golf carts."

"There are golf carts?" Shawn asked, looking up. "Dude, did you know there were golf carts?" he called to Gus. "We could have ridden one of those instead of walking here." Gus waved weakly at him but refused to move closer to the body. He looked back at Lassiter. "Did anyone find the cart?"

"We did," Lassiter said. "It was the only golf cart in the garage with mud on the tires. Forensics went over it, but didn't even find a fingerprint." He shrugged. "They checked the other carts just to be safe. Nothing."

"Lack of blood on the clothing suggests they were put on after death. The rain wouldn't have been able to wash it all away," Juliet said. "He's dressed like he's homeless, but we don't think he was. CSI already cleared the scene. The rain washed away any evidence the killer may have left behind." She came up next to Shawn. "Is there anything you can sense about the victim's identity?"

He looked the body over again. The clothes were ill-fitting, probably because they weren't his own. The soles of his feet were unmarked. The shoes were likely removed to put the pants on and left off because they were covered in blood. Looking at the wound in the neck, he noticed a tiny sliver of glass. The neckline of the shirt was stretched out, letting him see the edge of a tattoo. "Your right, he wasn't homeless," he said. "He has a home, and a job. A job at the prestigious Santa Barbara University." He stood up and looked at Lassiter and Juliet. "More specifically, in the chemistry department."

"You're saying this is connected to the Sanders' case?" Lassiter asked skeptically.

Shawn hissed, putting his hand to his temple. "I'm seeing the victim and his killer. They're arguing about something. Tempers grew heated. The killer grabbed something made of glass, smashed it, and used it to cut the victim's throat." He mimed slashing at someone, then clutched his own throat and started choking. He stumbled back a few steps. "The killer used some kind of acid to burn the victim's face and hands to delay identification." He flinched and made sizzling sounds, as if something was burning him. "I'm melting. I'm melting," he croaked, falling down to the ground. He popped back up. "Then he dressed him up like a homeless person and dumped him in the woods far from the school, hoping to lead the police off track." He stood there panting, looking triumphantly at the two detectives.

"We can pull up the list of students and techs working in the two labs, see if anyone is missing," Juliet said to Lassiter.

"No need," Shawn said. "I'm sensing if you check the victim's right collar bone, you'll find a tattoo of a Chinese character. Some say its the character for 'soup.' Others disagree, as if someone doesn't know what he is talking about." He glared over at Gus.

Juliet pulled on the victim's shirt collar, exposing the tattoo. "He's right," she called over to Lassiter.

"The victim is one Sam Cooper," Shawn said. He smirked. "A bright eyed college student who worked in both Sanders' and Pratt's labs."

"O'Hara," Lassiter said. "Have someone check on Cooper, see if he's really missing." She called one of the other cops over and started giving him instructions. He turned to Shawn. "Good work, Spencer," he said grudgingly.

"Always happy to help Lassie," he said with a grin. He stepped back as Lassiter directed the coroner's men to remove the body. He was heading over to join Gus when he heard a commotion in the woods behind him.

"What's going on?" Lassiter asked. Shawn turned as McNab came out of the woods, dragging Nikki along behind him. He exchanged a quick, worried glance with Gus before moving closer.

"I found her sneaking around in the woods," McNab said to Lassiter. "She said she was lost and didn't realize this was a crime scene." Even McNab didn't seem convinced by this story.

"Oh, really?" Lassiter asked, eyeing Nikki. She was wearing the ripped jeans again and the blue sweatshirt. It made her appear older than 15. Old enough that she might look like a college student to a certain detective. "Well, let's just see what your story is after you take a trip downtown." He turned to McNab. "Bring her in. I'll question her myself after I finish here." Shawn saw fear in Nikki's eyes as McNab started leading her away.

"Wait!" Shawn called. All eyes turned towards him. He heard Gus approach as he said, "She's with me."

"What are you doing?" Gus whispered behind him.

"Improvising," he hissed back.

"What do you mean, she's with you?" Lassiter asked suspiciously.

Shawn looked around. Juliet had walked over and was eyeing Nikki speculatively. She glanced at him, silently asking what was going on. McNab just seemed confused as he looked from one person to another. Nikki was looking at him pleadingly. He met her gaze, nodding slightly.

"She's my psychic apprentice," he said, remembering the conversation from yesterday. He saw the startled look in Nikki's eyes. He hoped she would be able to pull this off.

"Then why was she wondering around in the woods alone?" Lassiter asked, still suspicious.

"I asked her to check to see if she could sense the killer's astral trail," he explained. He gestured at Nikki proudly. "She really is quite gifted."

"Really," Lassiter said doubtfully. He turned to Nikki. "Let her go McNab." Once she was free, Lassiter said, "Alright, prove it." He motioned to the body. "Tell me what you sense, 'psychic.'" He crossed his arms with a smirk, as if anticipating Nikki's failure.

Nikki glanced nervously at Shawn. He nodded encouragingly at her. Taking a deep breath, she approached the body. She looked over it quickly, then closed her eyes. She held her arms straight out over the body, as if sensing the flow of energy around it. "I'm sensing this person is not what they seem. These clothes are not his. They are a disguise. Someone doesn't want you to know who this person is." She frowned as if concentrating. "I feel a burning on the neck. A mark, one that might identify the victim." She moved her hands back and forth over the body. "I'm also sensing the killer wore gloves, which is why there were no fingerprints on the golf cart." She opened her eyes and looked over at him.

He nodded approvingly at her. She did good, confirming most of the details he had 'sensed' about the victim. She had even figured out why they hadn't found any fingerprints on the golf cart. He guessed she had been spying on them, picking up what details she could about the crime, before she got caught. "Satisfied, Lassie?" he asked, grinning at the detective.

"Well. . ." Lassie said, hesitating. Juliet elbowed him in the side. He rolled his eyes. "OK, fine. She's free to go. Just keep her away from my crime scenes. The last thing I need is another psychic messing things up." He noticed everyone standing around, watching. "Back to work people!" he shouted. Everyone quickly found something to busy themselves with.

"OK, let's go," Shawn said, grabbing Nikki's arm. He started dragging her away from the crime scene. "We need to talk," he said quietly to her. She nodded, swallowing nervously.

"Shawn, a word please," Juliet called out.

"Gus, take her to the car," Shawn whispered. Gus nodded. He turned back to Juliet as Gus led Nikki away. "What is it, my magnificent princess?" he said grandly.

"Who was that girl?" Juliet asked, eyeing him carefully.

"My apprentice," he said. "I've been thinking of finding one, to pass on all the wisdom I've accumulated over the years. She must have sensed it, because she showed up at the Psych office, begging for the job." Every good lie had a grain of truth in it, his dad always said. After all, she had shown up at the Psych office on her own. And she had asked for the job.

"You never mentioned an apprentice before," Juliet said. She clearly doubted his story, even if she had sided with him against Lassiter.

"That's because she just started," Shawn said dismissively. Juliet still looked suspicious. "Look, is something wrong?" he asked, going on the offensive.

"I don't know," she said. "Is there?" She stared him straight in the eye, waiting to catch him in a lie. He stared straight back, cool and confident.

"O'Hara!" Lassiter called. "Fraternize later. We have work to do." He glared at them from his position near the body.

Juliet looked away. "We'll talk later." She stalked off towards Lassiter.

Shawn watched her leave. This complicated matters. He needed to deal with Nikki soon, before Juliet ran that background check and figured out she was his private case. It was time to get some straight answers from her, find out what she was hiding.

But when he met Gus at the car, Nikki was nowhere to be seen. "Where is she?" he asked. He glanced inside the car, in case Nikki was hiding in there.

"She took off," Gus said. He threw something at Shawn. "She said to give you this."

It was his wallet. He checked the contents. The cash was gone, but the fingerprint and all the credit cards seemed to be in there. "Damn," he said, pocketing the wallet. "I really needed to talk to her."

"Did you know she stole your wallet?" Gus asked accusingly.

"Gus," he said calmingly.

"I knew she was up to no good," Gus said vindictively. He pointed at Shawn. "I told you this was a bad idea. Why didn't you tell the police the truth?"

"Because I promised her I wouldn't," Shawn said. "But if she's going to keep breaking into crime scenes, I don't know how much longer I can cover for her." He rubbed his temples. The whole thing was starting to give him a headache.

"Maybe you shouldn't," Gus said. "The police are going to find out sooner or later."

"Yeah," he said, thinking of the background check. "But I'll deal with that when I have to." His stomach took that moment to grumble loudly. He looked over at Gus. "How about we grab some breakfast?" he asked, climbing into the car.

Gus followed suit. "Ok, but since you have your wallet back, you're buying." He looked smugly at Shawn. "And don't think you can use my credit card to pay for it. I checked your wallet for anymore 'borrowed' cards."

"Why Burton Guster, you sneaky bastard," he said proudly. "You have been learning. As a reward, I will pay for breakfast." He buckled up as Gus started the car. "Let's get out of here."


That afternoon found Shawn once again alone at the Psych office. With such a light case load lately, Gus was picking up some extra routes to help pay the bills. Shawn had spent some time going over suspects in the Sanders' case, but no one stood out to him as a killer. With Nikki MIA, he decided to take some time to relax and catch up on the Mentalist. He was halfway through the second episode when his phone starting ringing. He glanced at the id before answering it. "Hey Jules. Anything new on the Sanders' case?" There was silence on the other end of the line. "Jules? You there?"

"I got the results of Nikki's background check," Juliet said finally. "You need to come down here." She sounded eerily calm, which worried him.

"Can't you just tell me over the phone?" he asked uneasily.

"Just get down here. And come alone." She hung up on him.

He sat there for a minute, staring at his phone. What on earth had Juliet found out about Nikki that she wouldn't say over the phone? Growing more uneasy by the minute, he grabbed his keys and headed for the station.


Shawn headed straight to Juliet's desk. "Okay, I'm here," he said, plopping down in the chair next to her desk. "What did you find out?"

She organized the folders on her desk. "I need you to be honest with me, Shawn," she said without looking up.

"Of course," he said. He assumed she had recognized Nikki as the girl from the crime scene and probably wanted an explanation.

She stacked the folders neatly on her desk. She finally looked up at him. He was surprised by the anger in her eyes. "Did you know about her?" she asked.

"Look, she just wanted some help finding her father," he explained. "I didn't know she would follow me to the crime scene." He would have said more, but Juliet interrupted him.

"Did you know why she wanted to find her father?" she asked, staring at him intently.

"She said she wasn't getting along with her mom," he said slowly. "Her mom wouldn't tell her who her father was, so she hoped I could." He saw Juliet close her eyes in relief. "Jules, what is going on?" he asked, confused.

She hit a button on her keyboard, then turned the computer monitor towards him. "I think you should read this," she said.

He looked at the screen. It was the results of Nikki's background check. He read through it and his eyes widened. "Is this accurate?" he asked hoarsely, glancing at Juliet.

She nodded. "I double checked it myself."

He leaned back and ran his fingers through his hair. "Well, that does explain a lot," he said. All the little things he had noticed over the last three days, not wanting to talk about her mother, wanting no police involvement. All of it explained in two paragraphs. "What are you going to do now?" he asked.

Juliet sighed. "I just can't ignore this Shawn," she said apologetically.

He sighed too. "I know." He thought quickly, trying to find a solution. Now that he knew the truth, he couldn't just turn her in to the police. "Can you give me a few days at least? Let me talk to her?" he asked finally.

Juliet considered this, then nodded. "Yeah, I think I can."

"Good," he said in relief. A thought occurred to him. "Do you have fingerprint records on her?"

"Um, yeah," Juliet said startled. She called them up on the screen.

He took out his wallet and pulled out the fingerprint. He compared it to the prints on the screen. After a minute, he put it back in his wallet and stood up. "I have to go," he said. "I might be home late, so don't wait up."

She grabbed his arm before he could leave. "I know you want to help but be careful. This girl has been through a lot already." She released his arm, glancing around. "Call me if you need anything," she said quietly.

He leaned down to give her a quick peck on the cheek. "Thank you," he whispered in her ear. He turned away and left the station. He knew where he could find Nikki.


The sun had already gone down and the Psych office was dark and silent. The only illumination came from the lights outside along the boardwalk. They provided just enough light to make out a figure slowly easing the back door of the office open. The figure entered and silently closed the door behind them. They quietly made their way through the office, navigating by memory and the faint shapes that could be made out in the dim light. The figure made it to Shawn's desk and flicked on the desk light. They sat down and started going through the drawers. Suddenly, a voice sounded in the dark office.

"Hello, Nikki."

Nikki jumped, looking around wildly. Shawn stepped out from where he had been hiding by the front door. "I figured you would come in the back. We never remember to lock that door."

"Sh-Shawn!" she stammered. She got up quickly and backed away, putting the desk between them. "It's not what it looks like," she said quickly.

"I don't think anything about you is what it looks like," he said, coming into the room. He gestured to the couch by the window. "Have a seat." His gaze softened when he saw the frightened look on her face. "Don't worry. I just want to talk."

She reluctantly sat down on the couch. He pulled his desk chair over to sit across from her. "What do you want to talk about?" she asked nervously.

He sighed, rubbing his hands. He had to do this carefully, or she would just run off again. The best thing would be if she told him the truth himself. He didn't think it would be that easy, but he would give her a chance. "Why don't you tell me what you're really doing here."

"Here in the office?" she asked evasively.

"Here in Santa Barbara," he clarified. "I know you're not from around here." He waited silently, hoping she would voluntarily fill in the gaps.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said, her voice cracking slightly. Her eyes were wide and kept darting to the exits, looking for a way out.

"Nikki Peterson, born in Columbia, North Carolina," he said. He looked at her intently. "Last known residence; Denver, Colorado." He watched as her face paled. "Care to explain?"

"OK, so I had to travel a little farther than you thought to get here," she said shakily. "And my mom doesn't know I'm here, so if you could just keep it quiet. . ." Her voice trailed off as she saw the pitying look on his face.

"Nikki," he said gently. "I know about your mom." She looked at him in shock. "I'm so sorry," he said sincerely.

Tears started streaming down her face. She tried to hold back the sobs, but he could see she was fighting a losing battle. He did the only thing he could think of. He went over to her and pulled her into a hug. She broke down completely, crying heavily into his shoulder. "It's ok," he said, patting her on the back. "Let it out." He could feel her trembling as the heart-wrenching sobs shook her frame. He wondered if anyone had been there for her when it happened. He couldn't believe she had been able to hold it together for this long on her own. They sat that way for several minutes before she was finally cried out.

She pulled back from him, wiping at her eyes. "Thanks," she said, sniffing. "I haven't cried like that since the night she died." She looked down, embarrassed by her outburst.

He grabbed a box of tissues off Gus's desk. He handed them to her and sat back down in the chair. "That was what, a week and a half ago?" he asked quietly.

She nodded. "Yeah." She took a deep breath and slowly let it out. "The doctor said the cancer was unusually aggressive. She didn't have a chance." She wiped her eyes with a tissue as fresh tears fell.

He gave her a minute to collect herself again. He had a feeling the next questions weren't going to be easy. "You weren't lying about having no other family," he said. "So they put you in foster care." He saw her tense at his words, her face becoming guarded. "After two days, you disappeared." He waited for an explanation, watching her closely.

"It wasn't for me," she said. "I decided to try to find my birth father instead. See if he would take me in." She tried to keep her tone light, but he could detect a hint of fear in her voice.

"You seem like a bright kid," he said. "You could have tried to find your birth father from Denver. They love to place foster kids with family if possible. So why did you suddenly take off like that?" He felt uncomfortable pressuring her like this. But he had to know the real reason she left if he was going to help her.

"You can't make me go back," she said, her voice trembling. "I'll just run off again." Her whole body had tensed up and she looked ready to bolt.

"I'm not making you go anywhere," he said carefully. He was startled by the fear he saw in her eyes. "Look at me." She met his gaze, eyes wide. "You're safe here. I won't send you back." He saw a myriad of emotions flickering across her face; fear, distrust, panic, pain. She closed her eyes, shaking her head. "I promise. You can trust me," he said. She opened her eyes and met his gaze. He stared back levelly, willing her to believe him.

"You promise not to tell anyone?" she asked quietly.

"I promise," he said, crossing his heart.

That earned him a small smile. "OK," she said. "I'll tell you." She leaned forwards, resting her arms on her knees. She stared at the floor as she talked. "The first night was OK. I wasn't the only foster kid. There was another girl and a guy staying there. The girl basically ignored me. I wasn't really in the mood to talk, so that was fine. The guy kept staring at me, but that was normal. I had guys staring at me all the time in school or at the mall." She stopped talking, still staring at the floor. He could see this was hard for her. He gave her the space to tell the story at her own pace. "Things didn't go well the second night. Since it was just the three of us, we each had our own rooms. It was late; everyone else was asleep. I heard someone open the door to my room." She paused and took a deep, trembling breath. "He came in. The other foster kid. He said he just wanted to talk. And at first, that's all he did. Then he was holding my hand. He was leaning in closer. He kissed me and started running his hands over me. He-he pulled off my shirt and held me down on the bed." She stopped again, trembling hard.

"Nikki – " he said gently.

She shook her head. "No, I have to get this out." She took another deep breath before continuing. "I managed to pull free and punched him in the face. He started cursing and came after me again. I grabbed the desk lamp and smashed him on the head with it. After that, I panicked. I couldn't stay there anymore. I threw what clothes I had in a bag and left that night. I got on the first bus I could find heading out of town." She looked up at him. He could see the panic in her eyes as she remembered that night. "I didn't know where to go. Then I remembered what my mom said about my birth father being from Santa Barbara. The bus I was on was already heading west, so I figured it was as good a destination as any. Once I got here, I didn't know what to do next. I had no idea how to find my dad. Luckily, I saw an article about you in the paper. I figured if anyone could find my dad, a psychic could." She leaned back and spread her arms. "So here I am." She seemed drained from her speech and sat limply on the couch, staring at the floor.

Shawn wiped a hand over his face. Working with the police, he knew some of the horrible things that happened to people in foster care. He just never had to face someone who had been through it. He felt a surge of protectiveness for Nikki. He had already promised he wouldn't send Nikki back to foster care. After hearing her story there was no he would ever let that happen. But she couldn't keep staying at the Psych office and going who knew where during the day. She needed a place to stay. Somewhere safe. He couldn't bring her home. Juliet might be willing to look the other way for a few days, but she was a cop first. She would feel obligated to notify someone where she was and Nikki would end up back in the system. There was only one place he could think of to bring her.

He stood up. "Come on," he said, holding out his hand to her. She took it and he pulled her to her feet. He started leading her towards the door.

"Where are we going?" she asked. She may have trusted him enough to confide in him, but he could still hear a trace of fear in her voice.

"You can't keep breaking into the office," he said. "You need somewhere to stay." He gave her an encouraging grin. "Don't worry. He does this kind of thing all the time." He pulled Gus's keys from his pocket, glad he had asked to borrow his car. "You'll be safe there." She nodded cautiously, letting him guide her out of the office.


Shawn knocked on the door. "Just follow my lead," he said. Nikki nodded. He could hear someone stumbling around inside, followed by some muttered cursing. The light clicked on right before the door opened. "Hi Dad! Mind if we come in?" He pushed Nikki past his surprised father before slipping into the house himself. He lead her into the middle of the kitchen before his father had time to protest.

"Shawn? What's going on?" Henry Spencer asked, closing the door. He looked the same as he had when Shawn was a kid. Minus the hair. "It's 2 o'clock in the morning." He pointed at Nikki. "Who's this?" He looked grumpy, which was understandable when one barges into your home in the middle of the night. Of course, Shawn knew he was always grumpy.

"Dad, this is Nikki Peterson," he said. "She needs a place to stay." He turned to Nikki. "Guest bedroom is up the stairs, second door on the left." She looked hesitantly between him and Henry. "Go on, it's fine." She gave Henry one last hesitant glance before heading to the stairs.

"Shawn, we've been through this," Henry said, as she climbed the stairs. "I'm not a hotel. You can't keep hiding people out at my house."

"Come on dad. It's only for a couple of days. A week tops," he said. He leaned back against the counter, watching his father. Now that he knew the whole story, he should be able to find Nikki's father within that timeframe. He just needed a place for her to stay until then. "You said you needed more help around the house since you've been shot," he reminded him.

"Yeah, a few weeks ago," Henry said. He looked up the stairs. "Just how old is she?" he asked, eyes narrowing.

"Age is all relative," Shawn said, evasively. "I myself feel a youthful 21." He pointed at his father. "You, on the other hand, look a worn out 65."

"Shawn, answer the question," Henry said. He crossed his arms and gave Shawn an intimidating stare.

Even if he didn't tell his father, he would find out eventually. He still had contacts at the police station. "Before you freak out, just know she has no where else to go," Shawn said placatingly. "I'm trying to track down her father, but until then she needs a place to stay."

"Shawn," Henry said warningly.

"She's 15," he said reluctantly. He flinched as he saw his father's face turn completely red.

"15? She's 15?!," Henry yelled. "Why the hell are you trying to hide a 15 year old girl at my house?" He glared at Shawn suspiciously. "Is she a run away? Are you hiding her from the police?"

"It's complicated," he said hesitantly. The less his father knew, the better.

"Give me one good reason I shouldn't turn her over to the police right now," Henry said. Shawn knew this wasn't a completely empty threat. After all, the man had arrested him when he was a teenager.

"Like I said, she has nowhere to go," he said. He glanced up the stairs to make sure Nikki wasn't in ear shot. He lowered his voice just to be sure. "She has no other family. She would have to go into foster care. And I promised I wouldn't send her back." He realized his mistake as soon as the words left his mouth.

"Back?" Henry asked, voice rising. "As in she was already there? She is a run away, isn't she?" He ran his hand over his head. "I told you I wouldn't hide anyone from the police anymore." He walked over to the wall and grabbed the cordless phone. He was already dialing when Shawn snatched it from his hand.

"Dad, please, hear me out for a minute," Shawn said quickly, backing away with the phone. Henry was glaring furiously, but made no move to take the phone back. He took a deep breath before continuing. "Juliet already knows about her. She's giving me a few days to track down her dad. So she's not really hiding from the police." He gave his dad a small grin, which was not returned. He let the grin fade as he decided how much of the truth to tell his father. "Look, she had a problem at the last foster home she was at and I can't send her back into the system," he said, hoping his father would let him leave it at that.

Some of the anger had faded from Henry's face. "What kind of problem?" he asked.

"A problem involving a boy at the home," Shawn said, looking away. He couldn't tell his father what had happened. Besides, he had made a promise to Nikki. "Please don't ask for anymore details." He stared intently at the cabinets, waiting for an answer.

Something of the seriousness of the situation must have been in his tone. He heard his father sigh. "All right, she can stay," he said. Shawn risked a look at him. The anger had faded completely away, replaced by concern. "But only temporarily," he said. The words lacked the force they normally would have had.

Shawn smiled in relief. "Thanks, dad," he said. There were several seconds of awkward silence, as neither man was good at dealing with emotional issues. "I'm just going to run up and let Nikki know what's going on," he said, desperate to get out of the kitchen. He turned and headed up the stairs before his dad could say anything.

Entering the guest room, he saw Nikki sitting nervously on the bed. "We're good," he said. "I convinced him to let you stay." He sat down on the bed next to Nikki. "He's not the easiest person to live with, being a former cop and all. But it's better than hiding in the Psych office." He was surprised when Nikki threw her arms around him in a hug.

"Thank you," she said quietly. Shawn returned the hug awkwardly. He wasn't a touchy-feely kind of guy. But there was a part of him, a part that felt protective of this girl he had only met three days ago, that was touched by the hug.

She released him and pulled away, blushing. She seemed embarrassed by her emotional display. "So, it's getting late. I'm feeling kind of tired." She stretched and gave a fake yawn to emphasize this fact.

He stood up. "You're right. I should go. I'll stop by tomorrow to let you know how the search is going." He walked towards the door. He was almost out of the room when he turned back. "I will find your father. You can count on me," he said, meeting Nikki's gaze.

"I know," she said, trust in her eyes.

He nodded and left the room. He went down the stairs and found his father still in the kitchen. "Gotta go. Thanks again pop," he said, beelining through the kitchen.

"I hope you know what you're doing Shawn," Henry called after him.

"Of course," he yelled back, pulling open the door. He gave his father a grin and left, shutting the door behind him. "At least, I hope I do," he said quietly to himself, grin fading from his face. Nikki was counting on him. He wouldn't let her down.


This chapter was one of the hardest for me to write emotionally. Please let me know what you think.