And in the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make. - The Beatles

Author's Note: Oh, poor Liam. Working through a lack of inspiration for Little Boy Blue, well, I ended up with this. Originally two separate fics - one mild Shabby, and one angsty Jules - I realized they combined nicely. Shules fans, I swear if you can get through the Shabby in the beginning, you'll be rewarded in the end.

Disclaimer: Not mine. *sniff* Never will be, either. Unless... where's my time machine?

SPOILERS (overall): An Evening with Mr. Yang; Bounty Hunters!; He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not, He Loves Me, Oops He's Dead

They hold hands as Shawn walks her to the front door.

"Tonight was..." Abigail's eyes dance an erratic path while she searches for the right word.

"Long overdue?" Shawn supplies quietly, his eyes on their hands.

She smiles. "I was going to say 'unusual but fun,' but yours works, too."

They reach the door and stop, standing next to each other, hands still clasped.

Shawn takes a breath and turns to face her, dropping her hand in the process.

"Listen, Abigail. I had a great time tonight, and it's exactly what I needed after today's... insanity."

"I'm glad," she tells him, hoping he can't read the nervousness in her voice.

Shawn clears his throat, meeting her eyes.

'Do it,' his brain screams. 'Tell her the truth. Open up to her. Take a chance... like Juliet did.'

'Shut up, you traitor!' he snaps at his brain. 'I like Abigail. I'm doing the right thing.' He has to be - that's why he is so nervous he could throw up. It isn't because- "I want to see you again," he says quickly, before his brain can interfere.

Abigail grins.

'See?' he tells his brain. 'She really is beautiful.'

"Should we set something up in April?" she teases. "Maybe 2011?"

Shawn chuckles. "Yeah, yeah, yeah," he pauses long enough to swallow the lump in his throat. "But I was hoping for tomorrow."

She grins, eyes sparkling. "Are you sure Gus is free?"

He leans in slightly, hesitating over kissing her. "It's Saturday night," he says, his voice just above a whisper. "Of course Gus is free. But I was kind of hoping there wouldn't be enough room for him in that corner booth."

"While I'll be utterly devastated without him tomorrow," Abigail starts, leaning slightly towards Shawn. "I think, somehow, I"ll survive."

"Mmm hmm," Shawn closes the distance between them and places a soft kiss on her lips. "I'll pick you up at seven," he assures her, walking away with a little wave.

She nods.

"Seven!" he calls out as he reaches the car door.

She waves and disappears inside, and Shawn opens the door and sinks into the Echo. He looks at Gus, who's now in the driver's seat.

"Seven?" Gus asks curiously.

Shawn grins. "A second date."

"That's impressive, Shawn, but you can't borrow the car. I need it to-"

"I've got the bike, Gus. Don't worry."

With that, Shawn reaches over and turns up the volume on the radio. Gus takes the hint; the rest of the trip to Shawn's apartment occurs without speaking.

When they arrive, Shawn turns down the music. "Gus, I just..." he trails off, clearing his throat. "I wanted to uh, to thank you for everyth-"

Gus raises a hand to stop him. They share a knowing look.

Shawn gives a half smile. "Thanks, buddy."

Gus nods, and Shawn gets out, then leans his head back in. "For everything, dude."

Gus smiles. "Thank you for the Necco wafers. Now, go get some sleep."

Shawn nods and taps the roof twice before turning and heading to his apartment.

He doesn't realize he's exhausted until he turns the key in his apartment door. It hits him in a wave, and he doesn't bother to turn on a light.

After a brief stop in the bathroom, he finally makes it to his final destination. He collapses on his bed, still dressed, and on top of the covers.

His eyes shut, but his mind is terribly awake, his muscles still on fight-or-flight alert. An entire hour passes while Shawn involuntarily relives his day.

By the time his mind returns him to the drive-in, Shawn tries to fast-forward as best he can past the bomb-almost-killed-my-mother/conversation-with-serial-killer part, focusing instead on Juliet's nervous little speech, that look of pure joy on her face before he broke the news. Before he broke her heart.

He knows what Gus had been getting at during lunch. Yes, the Juliet thing is tired, but only because it is so delicate. There are only so many times Shawn can flirt and hint before he reveals too much, before he reveals everything, and the thought of revealing everything to anyone - even Jules - terrifies him to the core.

Because of his feelings, Shawn walks a dangerously thin line, dances over it daily, back and forth. Cha cha cha.

The one time he had gone all out - a good five yards or so over the line - he likes to blame on the vest. Blame, thank, whatever.

The key is that their thing, or non-thing, or, after tonight, almost thing, is complicated.

With Abby, it's easy.

Sure, there's the pier baggage, but that's it. They have tons of pre-pier times to fall back on. Their senses of humor are the same, and, it pains Shawn to admit, Abby far exceeds Jules in referencing abilities.

... But maybe Jules is right.

Maybe the richest things aren't meant to be easy.

Shawn sits bolt upright, blinking furiously in the darkness as pieces fall into place with almost audible thumps.

'A solid ending.'

'Do you know what it is, or do you want to be surprised?'

'I need you to like me because we're going to be working together again.'

She'd been at the restaurant - of course she knew he called Abigail. They all know that.

But Abby's okay.

It had bugged him all through the semi-double date. The standoff with Yang hadn't been an ending, solid or otherwise. There hadn't been any closure. She hadn't completed anything.

His heart starts racing and he leaps to his feet, grateful he hadn't bothered to undress or even remove his shoes.

If Yang had heard the call to Abigail, then she'd probably heard Gus's 'tired old Juliet' routine. And if she'd heard that...

Shawn holds down #5 on his cell phone as he searches frantically for the keys to the Norton. As expected, as feared, it goes straight to voicemail.

Juliet's phone never goes straight to voicemail.

As he grabs his helmet, he holds down #6. Lassiter, no doubt still at the station, answers after two rings.

"What do you want, Spencer?" he asks, his voice gruff to keep up the pretense that he hates him, but Shawn knows there's a grudging respect and a shade of concern in his words.

"The thing with Yang isn't over!" Shawn shouts, jogging to his bike.

"I know," Lassiter tells him. "Our interrogation'll go all night. We're trying to find out if there are more victims, but she's not talking."

"It's Jules!" Shawn exclaims, swinging a leg over the bike.

Lassiter doesn't catch his meaning. "No, she went home. Dobson and I are-"

"No!" Shawn practically shrieks. "It's Jules! The game isn't over; Juliet is the last part!"

Without waiting for Lassie's response, Shawn flips his phone shut, pulls on his helmet, and takes off at dangerous speed to Juliet's.