Thank you guys for the reviews! My original plan was to update every Friday (Or so, deadlines are push-able..) but I came down with a cold, and I'm currently on my bed, listening to songs from every musical ever made. Oz, I love Broadway.

TheShulesLovingPsycho: Thanks! I'm glad you're enjoying the story! But, don't die on me! I need a reviewer! Lol.

DoeEyedDarling: (Love your username!) I love TFIOS, and thank you so much!

torchil: Thanks!

Disclaimer: I don't own Psych. It would've had way more seasons! I do own Quinn, and whatever OC's I bring into this.

"You heard about Pluto? That's messed up, right?" Shawn rolled his eyes at his best friend's attempts to impress the leggy redhead. He'd been using that line for years and, so far, it had only gotten him murderers, suspects, and one or two "normal" girls.

The ginger scoffed, pushing past the two men. Shawn smirked at Gus. "Dude. You need a new pick up line. Go with something classic, something you'd find in a movie. Don't, however, go with an Astronomy lesson, because I'm pretty sure that's a deal-breaker."

"Shut up, Shawn." The pseudo psychic was about to retort, when his phone rang. He glanced at the caller ID quickly, before answering.

"Ah, Chief. I've been expecting your call. Hmm, today? I'll have to check with Gus, he was planning on trying to jump off the high dive at the community kiddie pool." This comment earned him a glare from Gus.

"No, Chief. He's never had the courage to do it." Shawn continued, grinning, as the man next to him sighed. After a few more minutes on the phone, Shawn hung up and turned to his partner.

"Apparently, Chief wants us to check out body. She said it was urgent, so... Jerk chicken?" He asked.

Gus clicked his tongue. "You know that's right." He said.

Lassiter took a sip of his coffee. "McNabb." He growled, as Buzz turned to him. "Get me the forensic reports.

"Yes, sir." The tall wannabe detective answered.

Juliet walked up to him, her eyebrow quirked. "You know, you could try being a bit nicer." She offered, as Lassiter's face curled into a grimace.

"Being nice is for sales clerks and maids." The blonde sighed, she could never reason with her partner when he was in a bad mood. Ergo, she could never reason with her partner... She thought it astute to warn Shawn of the detective's behavior but, just as she pulled out her phone to text him, she saw her boyfriend.

"Lassiedophilus!" He exclaimed, as the blue-eyed man whirled around, facing Shawn.

"Spencer, what do you think you're doing at my crime scene?!" The Head Detective questioned, his icy glare fixed upon the smaller man.

"I don't know. What are any of us doing here? Where do we come from? Where do we go? Where do we come from." Shawn took a dramatic break. "Cotton Eyed Joe."

Juliet giggled, despite herself. Running a hand through her long, blonde hair, she smiled as Shawn came to greet her.

"Hey, Jules." He said, pecking her on the lips gently.

"Hello, Shawn." She answered, blushing slightly.

"O'hara! Quit canoodling with Spencer and get over here!" Lassiter's voice made the cute mood dissipate quickly.

She, followed by Shawn and Gus, walked over to Lassiter and the body. Juliet engaged in a conversation with the Head Detective, to which Gus intently listened. Shawn, however, observed the room and it's victim.

It was of nice decor, but he hardly cared about that. The victim's name had been Harriet Delmonico. She had had dark, raven hair and olive skin. She was pretty, Shawn had to admit and, if he hadn't been with Jules, he totally would've tapped that. Considering she wasn't dead, of course.

It was a curious crime scene for sure. Harriet was sprawled across the floor, covered in dried Rose petals. A little note pinned to her chest was quickly swiped by forensics, before Shawn could take a closer look at it. The man handed the note to Lassiter carefully.

"I take my leave from this rotten world in which we all abide. I have nothing left here to live for. Goodbye, mom. Goodbye, dad. Goodbye, Tommy." He read carefully.

"This was a suicide?" Gus asked. No, it couldn't be. Shawn thought, his brow furrowing. This was all too bizarre, like it should belong on a movie screen. There was more here than met the eye.

Sneaking into Harriet's bedroom, Shawn analyzed it all. The room was as neat as a pin, with labels everywhere, and not a speck of dust on the premises. There were picture frames arranged in some kind of display. They were pictures of moments, moments in which Harriet had spent with some guy. He had light blonde hair, was tall, muscular, with dashing green eyes.

Her boyfriend? Tommy? He thought, remembering the suicide note. If the victim had been in such a happy relationship, why would she kill herself? A break up?

Pushing his queries aside, he looked around the rest of the room. Perfectly kept, the only offending item sat on the floor- A leather journal.

Picking it up, he rifled through it, only to find it relatively empty. Most of the pages had been ripped out, and only three were written on, in the same neat handwriting that had penned the suicide note.

They were entries. Only three, but it seemed as if there were much more originally. The first entry talked about nothing interesting in particular. Neither did the second. The third began just as boring, quickly morphing into something else entirely.

There were strange letters in no particular order, and it was super creepy to him. He heard a noise coming from the room in which he had left his friends (and Lassie). Peeking through the doorway, he hard Lassie screaming at poor Buzz. This being the perfect opportunity to sneak it, he made his way over to the bathroom, and noisily walked out, signaling the fact that had been there the whole time, and nowhere else...

"Mcnabb, you've spilled coffee all over my brand new suit!" The blue-eyed detective barked. Rolling his eyes, Shawn began to let out a series of randomized sounds.

"Oo, ah, bee, bo." He yelled repeatedly, catching the attention of the two detectives and his best buddy. Gus and Jules frowned at him, while Lassiter glared icily.

"Spencer-" He was cut off when the pseudo psychic began to rapidly spin around and around, bumping into Lassiter several times in the process. Like a twister, he twirled into Harriet's room, followed by Gus, Juliet, and the reluctant Head Detective.

"I sense the victim had a mind place." Shawn said, obscurely.

"Mind place? What is that supposed to mean?!" Lassiter asked, skeptically. Shawn shushed him, still in full rotation. He was lifting his leg up in ballerina poses, and smirking at the lanky man.

"Lassie, do I come to your office and bother you while you're working?"

"Yes, all the time." Lassiter responded dryly.

"Fair enough." He retorted. "I'm sensing... Gerard. Gerardo? Jordanian? Jormania..." Just take a hint already. Aren't you people supposed to be detectives? He thought, spouting out more incoherent words.

Juliet caught sight if the leather journal tucked under the bed. "Journal!" She yelled, and Shawn smiled, acting as if he was 'liberated' from his 'vision.'

"Correctamundo!" He tossed the notebook over to her, and the detective searched through it, pausing on the third page.

"Shawn, do you have any idea what this could be?" Juliet asked hopefully.

"Well, Jules, the spirit world is a very complicated place. With very complicated visions. And occasionally donuts. I'd say that-" He was cut off by his phone, which rang rather loudly. Laughing nervously, he was about to turn it off, when he saw the caller ID: Cornell Industries.

Rolling his eyes, he put a finger in the air, signaling to Lassiter and Juliet that they should wait A minute.

"Go for Spencer." He answered, wanting to sound official.

"Mr. Spencer, hello. It's David Cornell's assistant, here." The woman, Debborah, said.

"Ah, Debby." At this, Juliet gave him a wary glance, her eyes narrowing.

"It's Deborah. Now, Mr. Spencer, we'll need you to come down here right now. These papers must be signed urgently. They're concerning your father's research." Shawn winced internally.

"My father died twenty-three years ago. Couldn't we have done this back then?" He lowered his voice, but the three people in the room still heard him.

"I'm sorry, but if you aren't here in an hour, we'll have no choice but to declare your father a fraud." She said. Shawn's eyes widened in disbelief.

"F-Fraud? What are you talking about?!" He demanded. Gus's eyes widened, and he hope they were talking about Henry, not Shawn. Though, that wouldn't be much better...

"Be here in an hour." Deborah hung up, leaving Shawn fuming.

"I have to go." He said, walking out of the room And leaving Lassie, Jules, and Gus, completely befuddled.

Shawn had never truly liked Cornell Industries. Whenever his father had brought him on trips to his work, those fateful take-your-child-to-work-days (Or, as Shawn had enjoyed calling them, leave-your-son-on-the-waiting-room-with-a-bunch-of-strangers-day), he had always seen the building as 'too serious.'

Sipping a pineapple smoothie, he walked through the doors, where a rush of cold air slapped him. The whole building was gray and boring. The only cool part was the little fountain that rushed off the side of the wall. He had only just sat down, when a tall, asian woman with her dark, sleek hair in a bun, approached him.

"Debby!" He greeted.

"Deborah." She deadpanned. "Follow me." She wore a maroon pantsuit, and looked like she was bored out of her mind.

"Yes, sir. I mean, Madame." Deborah remained silent, and the quiet began to slightly unnerve Shawn. Humming an Elvis song under his breath, he followed her into the elevator. She pressed a combination of numbers (Which Shawn made sure to remember), and the machine rode upwards, going past the twentieth floor which was, supposedly, the last one.

"Woah." Shawn breathed out, as they stepped through the door. Everything was way cooler here. There were a bunch of techy stuff that, while he didn't understand it, intrigued Shawn immensly.

"Ah, Mr. Spencer." David Cornell said, greeting Shawn.

"Corny! How've you been?!" The pseudo psychic responded. David let out a strained chuckled, internally rolling his dull-blue eyes.

"Great, my company is flourishing wonderfully." He boasted.

"Right. So, I heard that Marco gets back soon." Shawn informed him. David was Marco's father and, although Marco had taken his mother's last name as opposed to his dad's, the two looked a lot alike. David was like an older, weaker, and, not to mention, richer version of Marco. They both had the same dirty-blonde hair (Though Marco's was lighter and David's was sprinkled with salt), medium stature, and dull eyes.

"Yes, he'll be home for Christmas Eve." Shawn smiled genuinely. He hadn't seen his old childhood friend in a long time and, although he loved Gus like a brother, he often missed the company of a fellow trouble maker.

"Glad to hear it. So, uh, why exactly am I here? My dad did die a pretty long time ago? Or did you just have the exhumation for his body?" He joked, completely uncomfortable.

"Well, you're father passed when you were nine. You needed to be eighteen to sign these... Special papers." Something about the way he said special sent a chill down Shawn's spine.

"Well, with my hair and cheekbones, I could easily pass for a younger person but, I'm thirty-two." He answered.

"Right, we've only recuperated the papers. They were, what you would call, lost." David explained.

"Oh." Shawn answered, his mouth dry. Everything about this rubbed him the wrong way. "Why do you need these papers signed, anyways?" David looked around, seeming slightly paranoid, and turned to him.

"Not here." Shawn nodded and gulped. This was getting creepy. "Come with me." Sure, let's play, follow-the-scary-man-into-the-creepy-room-and-talk-about-your-parent's-death. Sound like fun? He thought sarcastically. That game sounded horrible. Well, the title was a work-in-progress.

"Mr. Spencer, are you coming?" David asked, yet again. Say no. Say no, Shawn, and walk away. You can go get a smoothie, talk to Quinn again, drop by the SBPD...

"Sure, why not?"

Ok, so, I promise that next chapter things will really start to pick up. In other news, I'm really proud of the length of my chapters! I'm going to try to do my best to update on Fridays, but sometimes I can't... I will, however, try my best to update once a week.

Until next time, Psycho's!

P.S: Is Shawn OOC (Out Of Character)? I tried my best to write him like he acts in the show... But I'm not sure I did. This is an AU, though. Veeeery, AU..

~ Rae