My first Psych fic, yay! I hope you enjoy. I wrote it on a challenge that said to write about someone finding out about Shawn's shooting skill. This is the result. I hope you enjoy.

Shawn lifted up his gun, taking his time to aim just right. Of course, for Shawn, taking time was only about a second. He fired off his rounds fairly quickly. He laid the gun down and inspected his target sheet. He hadn't been out to the range for several weeks, so he wasn't sure if his skills were still top notch. He grinned cockily, ever shot was spot on.

"Spencer?"

Shawn turned and felt all his confidence drain away, "Lassie?" He gave an awkward laugh, "What are you- I didn't know you came out here."

Detective Carlton Lassiter, however, wasn't really paying any attention to Shawn. He was too busy focusing on Shawn's target sheet. "Is that yours?" he asked, pointing at Shawn's target.

Shawn glanced at it and rubbed the back off his neck, "Uh, no, that, that sheet was just here when I came in. It, uh, it helps my self esteem to have a perfect target set up at the end of the lane so that I can channel the spirit of a perfect marksman." By the time he reached the end of his explanation, Shawn had regained his confidence.

Unfortunately, of all the people who could have found out about Shawn's shooting ability, it was Lassiter. And Lassiter didn't buy it. He looked back and forth between Shawn and the target sheet, unable to grasp that Spencer, the Shawn Spencer, who regularly made a mockery of the SBPD and himself, was able within in a matter of seconds to fire off several shots, all of them hitting exactly on target. It wasn't possible.

Shawn swallowed and clasped his hands, "Well, this is getting awkward. So, I'll see you later." Shawn pointed towards the door and started to walk past Lassiter, completely forgetting his gun.

But, Lassiter reached out with his arm and blocked Shawn, "Hold up, Spencer. You expect me to believe that you were firing at a target that someone else used?"

"Yeah man," Shawn turned back towards the lane, "I told you, I was channeling the marksman-"

"Can it Spencer." Lassiter adjusted his jacket, "You, me, five shots each."

Shawn raised an eyebrow, "Are you challenging to a shoot off?"

Lassiter turned and smirked at Spencer, "You think you can't beat me?"

Shawn scoffed, "You're on." He turned back to his lane and reloaded his gun.

Lassiter entered the next lane over and pulled out his own gun. To be entirely honest, the main reason he was challenging Spencer was to see how good a shot he really was. Something told him that Shawn didn't want anyone to know about his firing ability, which didn't make any sense to him. The only way to know for certain how good a shot he was, was to challenge him. Spencer would never walk away from an opportunity to best Lassiter. Or to try to anyway.

Lassiter lined up his shot and glanced over at Spencer. Shawn jerked his head up at Lassie before turning back to his own target. Lassiter focused back on his. He only fired off one shot in the time it took Spencer to fire off all five of his. In the back of his mind Lassiter was incredulous that Spencer had already fired off all his shots, but he told himself it didn't matter how fast he fired. He just needed to hit the mark.

After firing, Lassiter and Shawn compared their targets. Shawn smirked at Lassiter, who just stared at the sheets as if he couldn't acknowledge them. "Wow Lassie. I didn't mean to put you in a coma," Shawn said, waving a hand in front of Lassiter's face.

Lassiter glared up at Shawn and opened his mouth to correct him, but decided against it. He looked back down at the sheets. Four of Lassiter's shots had hit right on target. One of them was a bit off. Shawn's sheet, however, had only two holes, one in the middle of the target's head and one in the middle of the chest. Lassiter could have argued that Spencer had missed three shots, but he knew better. He could tell by looking closely that Shawn had managed to hit the dead center of the target on each shot, so well so that his shots overlapped.

Lassiter looked back at Shawn, "How..." He trailed off, not sure how to finish the question.

Shawn sighed and ducked his head, knowing he couldn't hide it any longer, "Look, my dad had me learn how to shoot before I was in high school."

"But, you can't be that good without practice," Lassiter argued, still unable to grasp that Spencer was such a good shot.

Shawn shrugged, "I get in practice every now and then. I just," Shawn glanced around, as if he was afraid someone would see or overhear him, "I'm not big on guns, ok. I get that, working a job where I go after criminals, and criminals may come after me, being able to shoot a gun is pretty important. But, I don't like the idea of possibly killing someone."

Lassiter stared at Shawn, "Are you seriously telling me that you have a skill that you don't want to flaunt in everyone's face?"

Shawn pulled his head back a bit, "'Flaunt'? Wow, not sure when the last time I heard that word was."

Lassiter rolled his eyes.

Shawn gave a half smile, "I've got a cousin who doesn't like guns. Hearing him explain it, I get where he's coming from. I," Shawn waved his hand around, searching for the right words, "I don't want it to become a part of me, you know. I want to be able to do it, but I don't want to immediately resort to doing it."

Lassiter gave Shawn an odd look. He didn't really understand. Lassiter always resorted to his gun. It was his first line of defense. But when he stopped to think about, he realized that Shawn had experienced both having his dad shot, and being shot himself. According to Juliet, even when Shawn had a gun pointed at the man who shot his father, he didn't fire right away. Shawn didn't want to kill people. He really didn't even seem to like to hurt people, unless really pushed. Understanding dawned on him. Shawn didn't want to become dependent on his gun shooting ability. And that was probably why he didn't make a big deal of it. He didn't want anyone else to depend on it either. He wanted it to be his last line of defense, not his first. And though Lassiter didn't share that sentiment, he could certainly respect it, even if it was coming from Spencer.

As he left the range, driving back the police station, he held a new perspective of Shawn. He still thought Shawn was immature and didn't have the proper respect for police work sometimes, but he had seen a different side of Spencer, one that he could respect.

So, the title to this story, as well as what Shawn says about guns, is a reference to something. Points to whoever can guess what it is. Hint: it's a tv show