In honor of the new Psych episode that aired last night!! Hazzahhhhhh

Disclaimer: Nope. No owning here, check over at USANetwork's site, if you want.

The First Breakthrough (Over A Smoothie)

They had picked up Shawn's prescription before the pineapple smoothie. When Shawn had trailed in the store behind the detective, and while the two had to doge through crowded places, Lassiter felt slim fingers clench into the back of his shirt, like a lifeline. The psychic was right on his heels, not even inches from him and Carlton wouldn't have it any other way...

Lassiter didn't need to know it was Shawn, and wasn't sure what it meant. Besides feeling a hint of uncomfortable hesitation, he took it in his stride and led the younger in and out of the store without any major complications…

They even picked up the smoothie, Lassiter all but strapping Shawn into the car, making him stay. He had decided firmly the younger had enough excitement to the outside world for today. The detective retrieved the exotic fruit smoothie with minor looks from the establishment, none of them commenting on how they had never seen this man. Usually people who came to their store were regulars. Speaking of which, they hadn't seen their best customer lately, either…

Lassiter presented the cool Styrofoam cup to the immediately after re-entering the car.

"I don't know. It doesn't taste right, Carlton."

"Why not?"

"…I just don't know."

Lassiter wasn't sure, but he flicked his gaze from the road to determine whether or not Shawn was in tears. He wasn't, yet, but he looked frustrated and confused. It wasn't that Shawn didn't know, it was that he couldn't remember.

Shawn put a hand to his forehead and rubbed his temples. Something was coming back...his memory taping bits and piece back together in desperation, and Shawn, for a minute was strongly reminded of puzzle pieces. He was drinking the smoothie…he looked happy…he felt happy….

"Shawn?"

He put a bandaged hand up in the air to silence his driver, grasping the memory like he had the back of Carlton's shirt earlier. He was sipping from the same cup in his hands, but someone was next to him, and he wasn't alone. He just couldn't decipher who was standing next to him.

But whoever they were they had taken a sip of the smoothie before he had. And Shawn remembered that if a certain someone took a sip then it tasted better.

…just who was that certain someone, though?

"Shawn?" Emerald eyes glanced over to icy blue ones. Just maybe?

Shawn offered the cup to the man, straw tilted enticingly.

"…Could you taste it first?"

Lassiter pulled back and didn't hide his confusion. Taste it? What on earth was his psychic thinking!?

Since when did Spencer become his? Dammit.

"Fine." Taking the cup maybe a little harsher than he had desire too, Lassiter fitted his lips around the absurd bright green straw and inhaled, awaiting the disgusting taste of pineapple to leak into his mouth.

Surprisingly, it wasn't as revolting as he had thought…

Presenting the cup back Shawn almost immediately latched his lips around the straw and pulled the creamy liquid up and them down. He smiled around the straw and Carlton couldn't help but smile in return. It was one of his practice smiles the younger had recently been trying to teach the older detective until…this nightmare.

"Where to now?" Shawn asked from behind his smoothie.

"I…" Lassiter massaged his temples from his oncoming destination. "Have to go back to work." Then, remembering that Shawn didn't remember that kind of stuff, added hastily, "To the Santa Barbra police station. You've been there before."

"Oh, 'kay. Can I come too?" Shawn raised his eyebrows, almost cutely, (Lassiter pointed his gun at the idea of 'Shawn' and 'cute' forming together in his head) and observed him, all the while supple lips never leaving the wicked witch green straw.

Lassiter glanced over; sharing a look with the psychic whose acquaintance on anything was retorted and responded hostilely by Carlton on a daily basis.

So this day just wouldn't be categorized as 'daily', no big deal, right?

Right?

OoOoo Santa Barbra Police Office ooOoO

In the office, things ran smoothly for a week day, much to Lassiter' pleasure. He simply sat there doing some paperwork, filing occasionally and sorting tiredly. Thankfully he had Shawn to keep him company-the younger perched comfortably on a newly cleared-space on Lassiter's desk, his body hunched over and, sipping from his large smoothie. Every now and then he would, without a word, he would stretch his arm out, pineapple curled into his fingers. And without a word, Lassiter would lean over, sometimes not even glancing up from his papers, to sip from the wicked witch green straw.

Of course there were complications-and the head detective was more than eager to get the younger back to the hospital. He hadn't been okay with the decision, and he wanted to know where Shawn's sidekick was, (Gus was going to have a field day with this new Shawn accident) or his father. (Also going to have a field day-causing Lassiter to be keen to slip his gun and holster in to some place unreachable by the retired detective.

But the head detective should have known this relaxing sort of time was too good to last. For just as Shawn eased off his desk, (wincing at the pull of his bandages) he stood up and expertly tossed the empty cup into Lassiter's trash bin, (Shawn beamed at his man for praise at such a good shot, who responded with a smirk and nod) someone rounded the corner of the bullpen with a flourish-far away but catching Lassiter's attention not short after of a slamming of the front wide doors.

Lassiter saw the man coming long before Shawn did. His mind foresaw and ran through a hundred possibilities as he stood and stepped quickly between the oblivious Shawn and the oncoming-rampant looking Henry Spencer. Shawn blinked curiously and peeked out from behind Lassiter's bold uptight frame.

Lassiter let out a low growl of slight frustration, Shawn didn't need this right now! …the hospital must have redirected the older Spencer. Dammit, Spencer, both of you. One for being old and not knowing how to show his love, the other from being too goddamn cute and innocent and in too need of protection.

"Who's that?" he asked inquiringly.

Lassiter didn't answer, but put his hands up in defense, bowing his head at Henry, who had reached them in about six strides. From across the bullpen. Yes, Henry was ticked.

"Henry, wait, he's not-" Lassiter began.

"Don't you tell me he's not, that kid is always getting into trouble! You can't leave him alone for three minutes, you couldn't when he was three and you can't know that he's almost thirty!" The retired officer spat out, pointing an accusing finger at the shielded man.

As these harsh words were spit at him like embers, Shawn shrank behind Lassiter, kneading his fingers into the comforting fabric and inhaling the man's scent. This new guy was scary…which was weird 'cause he didn't think he looked so mean to begin with. He had been right about Carlton, hadn't he? What was so different about this man?

Henry watched this take whole motion take place, his eyebrows furrowing as he watched Lassiter reach one hand back around to where his son was as if to comfort him. The head detective twisted his neck back to look at Shawn, who had proceeded to bury his face into the back of his shirt on his back shoulder, emerald gaze wide as he locked into his blue ones.

Henry suddenly felt a rising sense of worry. He knew that look his son had, the weakened state of mind he had fallen into, he remembered these signs Shawn were giving off. The oldest man began shaking his head, as if in disbelief, catching Lassiter's attention.

Damn.

"No, no, no. Don't tell me he did it again. You mean that's why they let him out of the hospital so soon?"

I didn't explain everything I wanted to. Damn. But I needed to end it here, believe it or not.

No, none of you are going to believe that, I'm sure. Thank you for reading, and please review on your thoughts?