This fic makes me so nervous lol...

May. 2011.

Shawn stared quietly at the woman seething at him from across the table. "Jules…please," his voice cracked. She shook her head and shoved herself away from the table, refusing to meet his eyes.

Two nights ago she'd told him she loved him. They'd been lying in bed, and as she had drifted off he'd caught the words, barely a whisper, as they left her lips.

His heart had stopped.

His first instinct, the one learned from years of meaningless dating and even more years of avoiding commitment of any sort, screamed at him to get the hell out- to run as fast as he could in any direction as long as it was away from commitment.

But then Juliet had shifted slightly against him, her arm tightening around his waist, her face buried against his shoulder, and it had made his stomach do this little flip flop thing like it was trying out for the Olympics and thought it was Nastia Liukin, and he'd come back to his senses.

And he realized his second instinct-the one that wasn't trained into him from years of self consciousness and self doubt-was to wake her up and say it back.

It was a third instinct that had won out though-an instinct whose voice sounded suspiciously like an amalgamation of Gus's and his father's voices. It reminded him of The Lie that he was leading.

That whole pesky him not actually being psychic business.

Shivering, he'd brushed a strand of hair from her face, his mind made up. He had to tell her.

And so with Gus's blessing, he had finally sat down and told Juliet the truth.

It was not going particularly well.

"So…" she inhaled deeply, her eyes shining with tears, "You've been…" her voice cracked, "You've been faking-lying-to the department. To me…this entire time," she stared at him intently; offering him the chance to yell April Fool's and take it all back as a sick joke. The look in her eye was making it a tempting offer.

Shawn's mouth opened, and then closed slowly, feeling his chest tighten as panic seized him as a terrifying truth hit him. He could lose her. He could really lose her. She might leave him and there wouldn't be a thing he could do about it. Never mind the future of Psych or that he could go to jail, she could walk out of his life today and he'd have no one to blame but himself.

Every defense mechanism he had seemed to surge up inside him and take charge, "Well, lie is such a strong-negative-word," he explained flippantly.

"Shawn," she warned, her teeth grit together as if physically pained.

He nodded his head, biting his lip to hold in another cavalier remark.

They were both silent as she paced. He stared at her, trying to gleam any information, any hint, into what she was thinking. She was hurt, furious, obviously; it was radiating off of her. He felt any hope he'd had going into this whole situation wither and die in his chest.

"How?" she broke the silence, her voice cracking again. "In the beginning, I doubted…but you just…you kept being right and eventually…" she swallowed hard. She felt like an idiot for having ever believed his charade.

Shawn paused and licked his lips, "Do you remember the day we met?" he stared at her seriously, his voice low, pained.

For a millisecond a smile threatened to make its way onto her face. How could she forget that? "Of course I do," she responded, sounding offended. She folded her arms over her chest defensively.

Shawn inhaled deeply. "You had short grey hair on your left shoe. White hair on your right sleeve," he licked his lips again, "That's how I knew about your cats," he swallowed, "I saw the picture of your parents in your purse," he shrugged, "Estimated your age and theirs. Roughly 30 years of marriage," he fidgeted uncomfortably as she stared at him incredulously.

"You got all of that from a photo and some hair," she cocked an eyebrow in disbelief.

"I…" he bopped his head from side to side, "Hair, photo, over 20 years of training," he shrugged; it was all the same to him.

Her face darkened. Right. The training. She felt a knot form in her chest. Juliet was furious, there was no doubt, but a large part of her was just reeling from Shawn's confession. What sort of childhood could he possibly have had amidst training that made him more thorough then the department's best detectives?

"And the college thing?"

His face flushed and he offered her a small lopsided grin. "Come on Jules, you were gorgeous, smart, confident," he shrugged, "It was an educated guess." She watched as his brow furrowed together and the way his eyes quickly skimmed over her nervously.

Against her will she felt her stomach flutter. She stared at him, feeling him shrink further away from her, unable to meet her eyes. It hit her that she'd never seen him so…vulnerable.

Juliet tried to push down the lump rising in her throat. She wanted to focus on that, on what his confession meant about their relationship-his maturity even-…but she just felt so…used? Betrayed? Hurt? She wasn't sure what the right word was. She loved him-or at least, she loved who she thought he was. Was he still the same person? Where did the lie end and the real part of their relationship begin?

"Jules," Shawn licked his lips and started towards her. She held up a hand, she couldn't have him near her right now, and he stopped short, just out of reach, "Say something…please," his voice cracked.

"Shawn," she shook her head and gave a mirthless laugh, "I don't know what to say right now," She put her hands on her head, it was so overwhelming. "I just…I don't," she felt a tear sneak its way from her eye and start down her cheek.

Juliet sniffed, wiping her hand across her face. She trembled slightly, she wouldn't cry. Another tear pushed its way out. Damnit.

Shawn took a step towards her, hands out stretched. She stepped back, arms hugged tightly around herself. His brow furrowed; it hurt him to see her like this, and it killed him to know that he was the cause.

"Why now?" she whispered. "Why after all this time did you decide to tell me?"

He trembled, "Jules…I told you because…because I love you," he said finally, staring straight at her, not blinking. He felt his heart beating in his ears. He'd never said those words before, not to anyone. And more importantly, he'd never before meant them.

And there it was; the two biggest truths of his life and she knew them both. Shawn was vaguely aware of the fact that he wasn't breathing.

She stared at him, no emotion, no recognition-no acknowledgement- of his words.

"Shawn I just…I need some space…right now," she said slowly, her voice flat, emotionless.

Shawn sucked in a ragged breath, feeling like he'd been punched in the stomach. He nodded silently, not able to make his voice work, and watched as she slammed the door to the Psych Office on her way out.

June. 2015.

Shawn felt his throat tighten as he stared at the green apartment door leading to the crime scene. That hadn't been a good day.

"Shawn?" Juliet cocked her head slightly. Her hand hovered inches from his shoulder. "Are you ok?"

He blinked and exhaled deeply. "Yeah…yeah, I'm fine Detective," he nodded cheerfully, offering her a slight grin as he pulled himself back to the present.

She frowned, not entirely convinced.

He licked his lips, "So, what's the deal?"

"David Raymond, age 42, single, lived alone," she beckoned for him to follow her into the apartment.

Juliet winced. She'd already been through the apartment, but this was one of the bloodier crime scenes she'd seen. She looked at Shawn; his eyes were impassive, distant, as they flittered analytically across the crime scene. Bloody hand prints and streaks were all over the apartment. Raymond had struggled, bleeding, dying and had wandered back further into the apartment. He was probably going for his telephone to call 911.

The cramped apartment smelled of incense. Shawn cocked his head to the side. He glanced down at a doll lying on the coffee table near the door. He'd seen something like it before, when he was in Louisiana after high school. It was a Voodoo doll.

He stepped into the main room of the apartment and frowned. There were a lot Voodoo objects in the apartment. His eyes finally settled on the victim. David was lying face down in a pool of his own blood. Shawn cocked his head; he could just see the edge of a bloody line on his neck. He inhaled deeply. The victim's neck had been slit, but definitely not by anyone who knew what they were doing; judging by the angle it had probably taken at least one agonizing minute for David to bleed out. Next to the body was a bloodied guitar string; chances were that was the murder weapon.

Shawn spun around and his eyebrows shot up; what he saw was most definitely a surprise. Written on the wall in blood was"Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live."

Shawn sighed grimly and turned to Juliet.

"You think it was a hate crime," he stuffed his hands in his pockets and shivered.

Juliet nodded grimly. "David Ray was a spiritual leader in the local Voodoo community; he'd been vocal in the local newspapers lately, trying to attract new followers."

Shawn pursed his lips then frowned. He closed his eyes and brought his hand up to the side of his head. Something about that theory felt off. Not wrong…just…not right either. His eyes shot open and he looked at Juliet. "The chain on the front door was intact," he said slowly.

Her eyebrows drew together slowly and she nodded, "There were no signs of forced entry," the Head Detective agreed.

"So whoever killed him was someone he let into his apartment," Shawn sighed; he doubted David had just let some angry bigot into his home.

Juliet nodded thoughtfully, "You think the Biblical quote is a misdirect?"

Shawn moved closer to the body. "I don't know what to think yet," he admitted quietly.

Shawn circled the body slowly, taking everything in; the scar on the man's left pinky finger, the slight graying of his hair. Then, in his peripheral something caught his eye. Shawn paused instantly and wheeled towards it.

Above the man's fireplace were six picture frames. Five of them were brightly colored photographs of David with friends and family. But one picture was in a sleek and slender black frame. It didn't have David, or anyone from any of the other pictures in it. It was a professional headshot of the actress Willow Paige.

Shawn cleared his throat, "Detective O'Hara," he called to her to get her attention. She came to his side quickly, and Shawn felt his stomach flip. Even after all these years it was amazing what just her presence could do to him. He plastered on a good natured grin, "One of these frames is not like the others," he chanted.

Juliet nodded, "The picture of Willow Paige, the actress from the new Green Spirit movie. We noticed that," she shrugged, "So what Shawn? He liked her?"

Shawn shook his head "No…it's not that," he glanced at the photos of David again and felt a sudden wave of déjà vu. He'd seen the victim before…at another crime scene. Closing his eyes, Shawn put his hand to his head and started sorting through crime scene after crime scene. His eyes shot back open in shock and he kicked himself for not recognizing Raymond right away.

"Jules, this could be very very bad," he murmured.

Yay! Finally actual plot. Well...some of it. Not much...but a bit of it!

Enjoy and Review!