Shawn lay in bed next to Juliet. She had fallen asleep shortly after they got back from the hospital, much to Shawn's relief. He tried to rest too, but the nervous firing of his heart every time he thought about the phone call he had received that morning kept jolting him awake.

The night before had been fun. As it turned out, Selene really did know The Rock, and had gotten them front row tickets at the fight and they had gotten to go backstage. It had been a dream come true for Shawn and Gus, who had been watching wrestling since they were young. But then the phone rang the next morning, and the childish joy was gone. He had to transform back into adult mode- husband mode.

What if something had happened to her? What if they weren't okay and I was hours away?

His anxious mind raced, watching her breathe, reminding himself that they were all okay and that they were all going to be okay.

She would just have to rest. That was fine with him. When Juliet had been sick, she had done everything in her power to keep going. She continued working in the field weeks longer than anyone at the station expected her to, and even longer than he wanted her to. He knew that it had been important for her to keep some semblance of normal in her life, but Shawn spent every second of every day worried about what would happen to her while she was at work-even more so than usual. And that was when she had Lassie as her partner to protect her.

The fact that now she had a doctor's order telling her she couldn't go in anymore to act as a human target for any crazy with a gun was more than okay with him.

But as relieved as he was that she wouldn't be running around anymore, he couldn't shake the new anxiety that was growing inside with every second. Because now they were sitting on a ticking time bomb, playing a waiting game with no real winners.

There was a problem with Juliet. And as Dr. Johnson had explained it, the problem would resolve itself once the baby was born. But the baby couldn't be born yet because it was too soon. Being born too soon would hurt the baby. Being born too late could hurt Juliet. All Shawn wanted was for their baby to be safe inside Juliet forever, but that was no longer an option. Not that it had ever been, but Shawn liked to imagine it was. So, they would just sit and wait and wait and sit and hope nothing happened but want to be done with this whole mess and just move on.

And that's what they did, for the next month.

They had gotten into a routine. Shawn bringing Juliet her meals in bed, helping her walk to the bathroom or move to the couch to lie down while he and Gus would go pick up more cases. With her two head detectives completely out of commission, Chief Vick had been relying on Shawn and Gus more than ever.

Shawn was fine with it. Playing detective with his best friend like when they were kids gave him an escape from the very real, very adult life that was waiting for him when he got home.

"That's why you had to kill him!" Shawn said to a store manager who he had just revealed was the murderer of the most recent case they were working on.

"Nice work, Shawn!" McNab said, walking behind the man to handcuff him.

"Have fun in prison!" Shawn said as McNab led him out of the antique furniture store.

"I'm starving," Gus responded, looking around the old store, completely unphased by the amazing revelation Shawn had just presented.

"Yeah. Let's get out of here. I'm pretty sure that the teapot over there just winked at me Gaston-style."

"Beauty and the Beast? Really, Shawn?" Gus unlocked the Blueberry and got into the driver's seat. "And it wasn't Gaston. He was the bad guy."

"Then who was the teapot?"

"Mrs. Potts."

"That doesn't make any sense." Shawn looked out the window.

"That doesn't make any sense? What are you talking about?" Gus asked, driving down the highway. "Shawn, she's a teapot. Her name is Mrs. Potts. I don't think they could have laid it out any clearer for you."

Shawn was about to argue when Gus turned away from the strip mall with the Jamba Juice and the best jerk chicken in Santa Barbara. "Wait. Where are you taking me? Food's that way."

"Oh, I'm just…" Gus's eye started twitching and he stared straight out the front window. "We're just going a um… different way. Taking the scenic route. Don't worry about it, Shawn."

"You're lying to me!"

"Am not!"

"Yes you are!" Shawn said, crossing his arms. "Gus, you are without a doubt the worst liar I have ever met."

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"Really?" Shawn said, slipping into his Gus-voice, "Uh, no Shawn, I'm not lying to you. I always squint my eyes like a nerd without glasses and avoid eye contact. That's why I can never get a date."

"I have a girlfriend, Shawn," Gus said, still refusing to look at him. "And I don't sound like that!"

Gus pulled off a side street to the start of the neighborhoods.

"Oh my gosh!" Shawn said, watching the waterfront houses pass. "You're taking me to my dad's house, aren't you?"

"Juliet told me to."

"I can't believe you two!" He crossed his arms, refusing to move as Gus pulled into his dad's driveway. "I'm not talking to him."

"Just go listen to what he has to say. Please? For your loving and bedridden wife?"

Flicking off his seatbelt, Shawn got out of the car, pouting like a child as he knocked on the door, Gus standing at the car with his arms crossed, supervising him.

"Shawn?" Henry said when he opened the door.

"Apparently you wanted to speak to me? According to my ex-best friend," He shouted over his shoulder.

"Oh right, um. Yes. Of course. Come in."

"I'd rather not."

"Fine. Sit down, will you?" Henry took a seat at the little porch table, gesturing for Shawn to do the same.

Shawn flopped into the seat, wishing there was a pillow he could hold as a barrier, but instead settling for his arms crossed over his chest.

"Shawn, I know that I haven't always been the best Dad, I just…"

Shawn watched as his dad began rubbing his hands together, then crossed his arms, uncrossed them, and began rubbing his neck.

"Dad, what is it?" Shawn asked, watching his dad's most obvious tells that he was uncomfortable running through his body.

"I know what it's like… to be worried for the entire pregnancy. To lose the baby."

"You do?"

"You weren't our first kid, Shawn."

"I, what now?" he asked, leaning in.

"Your mother was pregnant before you. But she died shortly after birth. She had a severe heart defect. She didn't have a chance."

Shawn sat quietly, unable to process what his dad was telling him.

"You think having a miscarriage is hard? Try holding a baby and knowing that you will never get to see her grow. That those three days we got with her as she turned more and more blue and it was harder and harder for her to breathe was all we were ever going to have. And then you came along, Shawn, and you felt like the answer to our prayers. But you were such a big idiot, we spent every second worrying that you were going to get yourself killed."

"Thanks, Dad." Shawn tried to make light of the serious moment.

"When you have a kid, and you might not feel it now, but you will, it's like your heart just, it leaves your chest. And suddenly you're watching it run around and it'll have her eyes and your mouth. But your heart? You'll never get it back. And that's the torture. And I recommend it highly."

Shawn sat quietly, listening to his dad ramble. He squinted at his dad, watching all of the ticks that had always been there and seeing himself from his dad's eyes for the first time. He might have still been mad about it, but he understood, at least for a moment, why his dad had always been so hard on him.

"Anyways, I just wanted to tell you that, I'm sorry, for being so hard on you. You know, when you were growing up. And for what I said. You're going to make a great father."

"I don't know about that," Shawn said, but he felt at ease with his father. And an understanding. Like maybe he could do this. Maybe he could be a father. With everything that was happening to Juliet, and them realizing the possibility of the baby coming early, it was also beginning to dawn on him that he would also be a father a little sooner than he thought. But if Henry Spencer just told him he could do it, maybe he would be okay. Maybe he would be a good dad after all.