This is short and not-so-sweet, but an update. Thanks for reading, I own nothing , and I hope to catch ya in the next chapter.

Bye...

Psych

Gus wasn't sure what was going on. He had heard a lot of muffled yelling from above him, a few rushed footsteps. A couple times he thought he heard Henry Spencer, but he couldn't be sure. Shawn's father hadn't exactly been around the station much since he quit his consultant liaison job a few months ago.

Apparently, according to Henry at least, he missed the freedom to fish whenever he wanted to. Gus suspected there was more to it, but he hadn't had the guts to ask. And Shawn, being more than overjoyed to see his dad leave (more cases came in without Henry around to tell them 'no'), didn't listen to Gus's inquiries and theories when the pharmaceuticals rep brought them up.

The door opened, catching Gus's attention, and Lassiter slipped into the room. If Gus didn't know the head detective well he wouldn't' have seen the masked look of worry etched across his face. But after five and a half years it was kind of hard to miss.

"What's going on?" Gus asked giving Lassiter a cautious look.

"Did Spencer, by any chance, stop by here earlier? You know, after I made him leave?" Odd sort of question to ask, especially for Lassie, but Gus decided to humor the detective and answer. "No, why?"

"So, you have no idea where he could be?"

"No, what's going on?"

"Well," Lassiter started, taking a seat across from Gus. "We found Spencer's phone out front, in pieces, and some of his blood out back on the sidewalk."

"What do you…? Shawn's been taken? By who?"

"We don't know, yet. There's a chance he figured something out, something to help you, and the guy who framed you went after him to shut him up. Or he was taken so he wouldn't find anything to help you. Regardless, we have a missing jack… 'psychic' plus your framing and zero clues to help either of you."

"Isn't there a security camera outside? Can't you look at that?"

"We did, Guster, but someone managed to wipe it clean."

"So, you probably lost the only person who could prove the truth and you have no clue how to find him. That's just great." Gus knew he delivered the words bitterly than he meant to, and how harsh they were, but a part of him knew they were true. Over the years, it seemed the cops relied more and more on Shawn to get their cases solved. It was kind of sad, their almost dependency on the man-child.

"Guster, the SBPD was fully capable of solving crimes before Shawn Spencer came along and we will solve these two cases without him as well."

"Yeah, because Shawn never called in any tips..."

"Just thought you'd want to know your friend was missing," Lassiter replied, the only indication he heard Gus the slight clench of his jaw. He pushed himself to his feet, heading toward the door. "If we find anything I'll tell you." and he was gone, the door clicking closed behind him.

Gus laid his aching head on the cool desk, unsure where the spike of anger came from. Now he just felt drained, and a little worried for his friend. He just wished Shawn hadn't gotten into anything stupid.

Psych

A fist collided with his cheek, a echoing thud filling the room, making him wince. He could taste blood in his mouth, was pretty sure a tooth had just been knocked loose. Prison really gave Lindsay more strength than she had when he first met her.

"So, you hate me now?" Shawn commented wishing he could rub his aching face.

"Shawn, I have hated you for a while." She walked away from him, returning a second later with a sharp bread knife. "You see, if my plan had gone the way it was supposed to, I would have shot you the moment we were in the air. But now, shooting you seems too easy. No, I want to make you suffer."

"Hey, Mildred was the one to take you down. I was just a hostage..."

"Oh, I would have gone after her. If she hadn't of died of a heart attack a year ago. Besides, she wouldn't have been as fun as you." the bread knife caught the light, the silver glinting evilly back at him. In fact, all pointed things were evil and out to get him. No matter what Gus and his father said.

"Come on, isn't there anything else you can use to hurt me. A Play-doh knife, a feather, anything but that pointy knife. Hey, I heard pop rocks and soda is bad for people, use that..."

"Shut up," Lindsay snapped plunging the knife down, slamming it into the arm of the chair, inches from Shawn's own arm. He was embarrassed to admit a girlish scream left his lips.

"My God that was thrilling," Lindsay exclaimed around a half-crazed giggle. She yanked the knife free, flecks of loose wood hitting Shawn in the arm. His breath was coming in short gasp, his hands shaking slightly. That was a close call, closer than he would have liked.

"Why... why did you frame Gus?" Shawn stammered, cursing himself for the tremer in his voice.

"Figured that out, did ya?"

"Well, you were the one on the phone, right? The one he was speaking to?"

"Yeah, me and Stretch met a while back. He was visiting the prison for a case, I was assigned cleaning duty. He had slipped into the bathroom, found me working, introduced himself. We have been in contact ever since."

"Stretch? A pet name of his?"

"He doesn't like his real named used. Especially since he's kind of a big deal at the SBPD."

"And what does he call you? Psycho?" Sarcasm had always been Shawn's way to cover up emotions. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it pissed people off, and sometimes (when he was around Gus, his father, or Juliet) it didn't have the affect he wanted. Too bad for him, Lindsay was in the second category.

"Would a psycho do this," she snapped slamming both of her feet into Shawn's chest, sending his chair backwards. The air was knocked out of the 'faux-psychic's' lungs, his already aching head colliding with the floor. A sea of gray exploded behind his eyelids, a wave of nausea rolling through his stomach.

"Yes," he managed to wheeze out, taking in short, gasping breaths.

"Well, maybe I have a new pet name after all," Lindsay replied thoughtfully, just as a door opened from downstairs. "Speaking of Stretch." Heavy footfalls ascended stairs below them, each one getting closer and closer until they were right at the doorway. It opened and a familiar person crossed the threshold.

This just keeps getting better and better, Shawn thought bitterly noticing the upside down face, of the upside down detective, from the SBPD, smiling a sadistic smile...