Santa Barbara

The air in Buzz McNab's apartment was heavy. Lassiter, Juliet, and the Chief's guns were all aimed at Wes Hiltenbock, his own changing its target with every moment. Shawn and Gus stood to the side, both just about wishing they had a gun of their own. The final member of their force stood on a footrest, clad in his underwear.

"Because you are not really a cold-blooded serial killer," Shawn continued, "are you?"

Lassiter glared at Wes, his gun steady in his hand. "He only threw his brother off a building."

"I didn't push him off the roof," Wes defended.

"No, no, no. No, you didn't. You didn't do that," Shawn said, his voice rushed. He brought a hand to his head, his eyes clenched tightly. "But you were there. You saw it. You saw the whole thing. You saw him jump off the balcony of the apartment that you shared."

"He was weak." Wes kept his gun trained on Buzz.

"There are a lot of weak people out there, Hiltenbock," Shawn said. "You gonna track them all down, huh? One at a time? Punish them for their weakness?"

Wes gave an almost miniscule nod.

'" You want to get back at your brother so badly, you don't—you don't even care even care who these people were. Just that they called a line! Look, you're gonna kill McNab here because he had a few pre-wedding jitters," Shawn went on.

"I—I was just looking f—for a little advice," Buzz stuttered. His head turned to Lassiter. "Nobody else would talk to me."

Gus turned to stare at Lassiter, straight-faced just as every other occupant looked at the Irishman incredulously.

Lassiter rolled his eyes halfway.

"It's okay, Buzz. We all have stress; all of us. Right? Everyone right here in this room," Shawn said, waving his hands slightly. "Get a good lock, Hiltenbock. We all have problems! Who else deserves to get shot? Or hung?" He turned to his left. "Maybe it's Gus."

"That's enough, Spencer," Lassiter barked.

Shawn shrugged, arms still pointing at Gus. "Shoot him."

"What are you doing?!" Gus snapped at his friend.

"Yeah, maybe I should." Wes turned his gun to Gus.

"Don't listen to him," Gus said, moving behind Shawn. "He's a crazy person. He's crazy!"

Shawn nodded. "That's right. I am crazy. So maybe you should shoot me."

"O—Okay." Wes pointed his gun at Shawn.

Trying to hide his own nervousness at being the new target, Shawn continued, silently thanking any god that could hear him that his acting skills were up to par. "But here's the best part. It doesn't matter what I think, because you have a problem that's a lot bigger than me." He pointed at Lassiter. "This guy."

Wes' gun changed targets again.

"The man with his gun trained on you is not only a fine human being with a strong Irish hairline; he is an exemplarily public servant. And arguably, the finest detective mind in the lower…western…Santa Barbara county…area….over the age of thirty-five. And right now while I'm speaking, he is devising a swift and stealth like tactic that is going to disarm you," Shawn said, "and blow your friggin' mind!"

Wes' gun turned, laying its target on everyone in the room for a split second.

Shawn turned to Lassiter, his mouth only inches from the cop's ear. "Any time you're ready." He waited a moment. "All right, we got him. Make the move," he whispered.

Mortimer Tilden's cat jumped from the bookshelf with a sharp screech, landing on the back of Wes' neck, his nails digging in.

After that, it all happened in slow motion.

Wes screamed, his fingers closing around the trigger. A loud bang erupted through the apartment as Lassiter rushed at him, pulling Wes' hands behind his back, hearing Juliet scream somewhere behind him. Lassiter turned to his partner, expecting to see her covered in blood and clutching her wound, but he was in no way prepared for what he saw.

Shawn was lying on his back, eyes clenched shut. His right hand lay over a growing blood stain that was dominating the blue of his t-shirt. His left hand was weakly trying to grasp at the carpet as he groaned once more before his hands fell slack and his head rolled to the side.

The conscious people left standing in the room watched in horror as Shawn continued to bleed out onto the beige carpet. Juliet's hands covered her mouth as tears slipped past her eyes. The Chief holstered her gun, trying to bend to check Shawn, but unable to because of her very pregnant stomach. Gus and Buzz stood in shock, Gus seeming to have trouble breathing at the sight of his best friend.

Lassiter snapped back to reality, pushing a babbling Wes to Buzz as he shot over to Shawn. His fingers fell on the brunette's neck searching for a pulse, not able to bring even himself to check from Shawn's blood covered wrist. He sighed a sigh of relief when he felt a soft thumping beneath his fingers. Pulling off his jacket, Lassiter placed it firmly over Shawn's wound. He turned to the group. "Anyone want to call this in?" he snapped.

Juliet's back snapped straight and she nodded, grabbing her radio from her waist. "We have a man down," she said into the radio. "I repeat, we have a man down. Send a bus to Sycamore Boulevard apartment 204," she glanced at Shawn, "and hurry."

"10-4," the man's voice came from the other end.

The Chief stayed silent watching as the son of a former coworker grew paler. She placed a hand on Gus' trembling shoulder, knowing how scared the man must be.

Gus stood still, his mind silently registering the Chief's comforting hand. He just couldn't bring himself to tear his eyes away from his best friend, praying Shawn would stay with him for at least a little longer.

---

Gus, Juliet, and a reluctant Lassiter sat in the waiting room of Santa Barbara General waiting for news about their coworker. The Chief had left, ordering them to call her the second they got any news and Buzz had long since returned to his frantic fiancée after promising to return the next day.

"How long has it been?" Juliet asked softly.

"An hour," Gus sighed.

Juliet groaned. "How long are they gonna take?"

"However long it takes to stabilize him," Lassiter replied, watching the seconds on his clock click by.

In all honesty, Carlton Lassiter was no fan of Shawn Spencer, but that didn't mean he wouldn't miss the other man's antics if he left. In a way, he'd gotten so used to Shawn's surprises to the point where each morning he'd ask himself what was going to come next. But despite all that, it didn't mean that Shawn's actions didn't annoy the hell out of him most of the time.

Juliet sighed, turning to stare out the window. It didn't seem right to her that half the state was out enjoying the nightlife and Shawn of all people was in a hospital. Shawn was always on the move, in her opinion, he shouldn't even know what the inside of the hospital like, but she had a feeling that even if he made it through, he'd end up learning the lay of the land pretty well. She sighed again as a raindrop hit the window followed by another before and the sky began to shed the tears she could no longer cry.

She'd never seen someone get shot before. Yes, she was a cop, but she was still generally new to the profession. Hearing a gun shot and seeing it bury itself into another person, much less a friend, was something she hadn't been ready to see. When it happened, all that had escaped Shawn's mouth had been a gasp before he hit the ground. She hadn't even realized she'd screamed until Lassiter had turned to her instead of the resident psychic.

Gus stared at the doors, waiting for a doctor to come by and tell him about his friend. Shortly after arriving at the hospital, he'd called Henry before remembering he had gone to see a friend in Wasco. He'd left a message on Henry's cell, telling him that Shawn had been hurt and to call as soon as possible.

Gus sighed, running a hand over his face. He and Shawn had been friends since before he could remember. He'd seen Shawn go through everything and though there were times he wanted to kill him, Gus wasn't ready to not have Shawn around.

"Spencer?" a doctor called, walking into the waiting room. "Shawn Spencer?"

Gus sprang from his seat a second before Juliet. "Right here," he said. "How is he?"

The doctor stared at Gus, sympathy in her eyes. "I'm sorry. I can only release information to family."

Lassiter sighed, flashing his badge. "Detective Lassiter, SBPD."

The doctor nodded. She turned to her clipboard for a moment before looking back at the group. "When he'd been brought in, he'd already lost a liter of blood." She heard Juliet breathe in sharply and she glanced at the blonde, with a reassuring smile. "While we were removing the bullet, he lost another pint, but it's currently being replenished through the IV and blood bag we have him hooked up to."

"Is he going to be okay?" Gus asked.

"It'll take a while, but yes. He will make a full recovery," the doctor said. "The bullet nicked his left lung, but we've repaired that."

Lassiter nodded, feeling slightly relieved that Shawn was going to be okay.

"Can we see him?" Gus asked, Juliet nodding behind him.

"He's unconscious right now, but yes, you can. But he probably won't wake up until tomorrow."

"He'll wake up today," Lassiter said.

The doctor cocked her head. "I'm sorry?"

"Shawn's stubborn," Gus explained. "If he wants to wake up, he'll wake up regardless of his health."

The doctor laughed softly. "He sounds like my brother."

"Yup," Gus chuckled. "And he's my best friend."

---

Gus pushed the door to Shawn's room open slowly, staring at his friend for a moment before stepping aside for the others. Shawn's face was pale, the blood from earlier washed away. His chest was heavily bandaged and Gus could just imagine the pain his friend would be in once he woke up.

"Looks painful," Juliet whispered.

"A gunshot usually is," Lassiter said.

Juliet glared at him lightly. "I know that."

"Then don't state the obvious."

Gus rolled his eyes. Those two argued like Shawn and him. Pointless and meaningless fights that would change absolutely nothing. They did nothing but lighten the mood. He walked forward, sitting beside his friend and resting his mouth against his folded hands.

Gus wasn't sure how long he sat there, Juliet and Lassiter bickering behind him while he stared at Shawn. He snapped up straight as he saw Shawn twitch. "He's waking up!"

Juliet shot over to the bed, Lassiter a couple steps behind her. She smiled as Shawn's eyes fluttered open. "Welcome back."

Shawn stared at them all curiously for a moment before he tried to push himself up. He gasped in pain, falling back onto the pillows painfully. "I got shot. The bastard shot me!"

Lassiter rolled his eyes. "What clued you in?"

Shawn glared at Lassiter for a moment before lowering his gaze back to his wound. "I did not foresee this."

Lassiter resisted the urge to hit his head. He can't be that much of an idiot.

Shawn paused. "Can I go home now?"

Okay, so maybe he is.

The End.