AN: This is another one of my Psych stories that is co-written with the fabulous author DinerGuy. Check out her other fics on her profile! .net/~DinerGuy

Disclaimer: I don't own Psych or any of it's characters. They belong to USA Network and Steve Franks. No copyright infringement intended.

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"If I were a crazy man, I would say that this mess was caused by someone running from a herd of malicious cattle," Shawn Spencer announced to the crowd standing on one side of the crime tape. "But since I'm not crazy, I'll have to go with the theory that very large elephants were set free from the local circus."

Carlton Lassiter didn't bother hiding the sarcastic drawl in his voice as he spoke up. "Really? Well, Spencer, why don't you just tell us the motive behind these supposed elephants."

"Please, Detective Lassiter." Shawn used Lassiter's full title, a sure sign that the next thing out of his mouth would be utter nonsense. "These are elephants. They don't need motives. They just destroy."

"I don't need lectures from you on the ethics of elephants," Lassiter snapped at him.

"Then what do you need a lecture on? Because I've got a whole book of them from my dad," Shawn countered, his face smug as he continued to push Lassiter's buttons.

That was the last straw for Lassiter. He grabbed Shawn by the arm and dragged him inside the convenience store that had been robbed earlier that afternoon. The gunfire had blown out the large windows in the front, resulting in a glass-covered sidewalk outside.

Lassiter felt the glass crunch under his feet as he ducked through the doorway. "Spencer, don't give me that crap. This was a simple robbery. We have the suspect in custody. You waltzed your way in here, but don't think I'm going to let you wiggle your way into this case since it's practically closed."

"I don't think I waltzed in here," Shawn corrected. "I may have fox trotted, perhaps even cha-cha'd in. But no waltzing. Ask Gus. I step on his feet every time we try it out. And in regards to the 'wiggling' comment, I finagle, I don't wiggle."

Maybe CSU wouldn't notice one more shell casing in the parking lot, Lassiter thought as he waved for McNab to escort Shawn from the crime scene.

"You'll regret this, Lassie-face. I know all the answers, thanks to the spirits." Shawn was still babbling as McNab held the crime tape up so the psychic could step to the other side.

"I'm sure I won't," Lassiter muttered.

Now that Shawn and his ridiculous antics were gone, it was time for Lassiter to give a statement to the press. As he approached the cluster of reporters pressing against the crime tape, Lassiter made sure his tie was straight.

"Detective Lassiter, have any arrests been made?" the young man from The Santa Barbara Times asked.

"We have a suspect in custody; all other details are under wraps for the moment. This is still an ongoing investigation," Lassiter told him.

"Detective." The woman reporter from channel 5 held her recorder out to him. "We just saw Shawn Spencer, the police department's psychic consultant, leave the scene. Is he helping you with this investigation?"

Lassiter scowled; of course these muckrakers would ask about Spencer. "Mr. Spencer was not hired for this case. His particular brand of investigation was not needed," he told them, well aware that the sarcasm that filled his voice when he talked about Spencer's 'work' was still there.

"Is this case easier than those in the past?" the newspaper reporter followed up.

Lassiter continued to scowl. "Mr. Spencer does not work cases because they are hard."

"Then why is he not hired on every case?"

"Shawn Spencer is a department resource that if it were up to me, would not exist. He consistently puts himself in positions which could cause the case he is working on to be thrown out of court." Before the next reporter could ask a question, Lassiter turned and stalked off. He needed to start processing the paperwork to charge his suspect.

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In all the commotion, neither Shawn nor Lassiter noticed the young woman in jeans and a plaid shirt standing in the group of on-lookers. She was carrying a notebook and taking furious notes about the crime scene while watching Lassiter intently. Once the detective was out of sight, headed for her car. She had a website to update.

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Dear SS .net,

I have some exciting news for you! No, I didn't get an interview with the Psychic himself; his office still hasn't returned my calls. I managed to get to a crime scene today before he was gone. He gave one of his normal speeches. To us it may have seemed convoluted and lacking of sense, but I know that he pointed the police officers in the right direction.

Speaking of police officers, did anyone catch the interview Detective Carlton Lassiter gave to channel 9 tonight? I would say that the Head Detective doesn't know what he's talking about. Without Shawn Spencer, the SBPD wouldn't have been able to solve three-fourths of the cases it has over the past five years.

I decided that in honor of SS .net's fifth anniversary and in order to promote awareness of the many talents of Shawn that we, as fans, should send Detective Lassiter some emails or letters and let him know exactly how we feel about his latest interview. He needs to understand that even if he has some weird personal grudge against Shawn that he can't dismiss the genius and insight that Shawn brings to the table.

Be sure to get your emails to me, and I'll pass them on anonymously via the site email to Detective Lassiter.
~ Laura

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"Dude, I have my own letter writing campaign?" Shawn was looking over Gus' shoulder at the computer screen.

"A creepy one. Have you seen the rest of this website?" Gus asked.

"Gus, there is nothing wrong with naming a website after someone you admire. ShawnSpencer .net has a certain ring to it," Shawn assured him. "Anyways, has she actually been calling us?" Shawn was rereading the latest post on the front page.

Gus shook his head. "Not that I know of." Shawn didn't say anything, but Gus could see the wheels turning in his best friend's head. "Oh, no, you are not calling this girl. She is crazy, Shawn. Crazy and obsessed."

"Fine, I won't call her," Shawn promised.

Gus sighed. "We should probably head down to the station and see if Lassiter's gotten any emails. Plus the chief hasn't given us our W-2 yet."

"What do we need a W-2 for? Are the doors to the closet stuck again?"

"That's WD-40, Shawn. And we need our W-2 so we don't get arrested for not filing our taxes." Gus rolled his eyes.

"Oh, that's less exciting. We should get frozen yogurt on the way over."

"You know that's right." Gus fistbumped his friend and unlocked the door to the Blueberry.

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"Chief, this is ridiculous!" Lassiter was beside himself as he looked at his email inbox. There were over 400 emails all containing the same subject line. 'Shawn Spencer is a Valuable Department Resource'.

"I'll agree that it is a problem," the chief concurred. "But you have to admit that Mr. Spencer has some ferocious fans."

"Thank you for the alliteration," Lassiter replied, sarcastically. "Chief," he added quickly when Vick raised an eyebrow at him.

"We'll ignore it for now," the chief told him. "Hopefully this is the last of the matter."

"I've never even heard of this Laura person." Juliet spoke up from where she and McNab were looking at something on her computer.

"None of these are signed; we don't have any names ..." Lassiter trailed off when he saw his partner wasn't looking at him.

"I looked up the website that those emails came from." Juliet waved him over to the screen.

"That's creepy," McNab observed. "It's like a shrine that a serial killer dedicates to their obsession."

"Only a lot more disturbing," Lassiter told him. "Chief, if this is the kind of behavior that provoked those emails, I have every right to file a restraining order against them."

"You just said that none of the emails were signed, Carlton." The chief shook her head. "We don't know who these people are, and until we do, they are nothing more then a nuisance." She headed back to her office.

"She says it's a nuisance; maybe I should just forward them all to her," Lassiter grumbled as he looked back at the website. "This crazy person has written true crime novels about Spencer?"

Juliet nodded. "There's also this." She clicked on another section of the website.

Lassiter made a face of disgust but didn't look away from the screen. "What the heck is that?"

"That's not right ..." Buzz trailed off as he looked closer at the screen.

"Apparently, it's called fanfiction." Juliet used the mouse to scroll through a list of the stories. "They're made up cases."

"And made up relationships." Lassiter's face was just as disgusted and confused as he read some of the summaries. "This girl is crazy."

"What's a 'shipper'?" McNab asked. "And why do they 'ship' Laura and Shawn?"

"I don't know what that is, but it sounds disturbing," Lassiter grumbled.

"Disturbing like a crab shedding its exoskeleton or disturbing like your hair in that picture?" Shawn pointed to the screen.

None of the three police officers had noticed the psychic, and when he spoke they all jumped in surprise and looked to see Shawn and Gus standing behind them, both carrying a bright orange paper cup containing frozen yogurt.

"Darn it, Spencer, it's like watching people sleep," Lassiter snapped, not happy to have been caught unaware. "And that picture is from almost two years ago."

"Well I'm glad you see the error of your hairstyle. 20/20 near-sight and all that."

"Hindsight," Gus muttered.

"Yes, 20/20 hindsight. That's what I said." Shawn nodded.

"Shawn this is serious," Juliet tried to reason with him. "This girl is infatuated with you."

Shawn gave a laugh and turned to Gus. "I sense a tinge of jealousy in the fair Juliet's voice." He held out his hand for a fist bump.

Gus didn't return the fist bump with his normal enthusiasm. "I don't know, Shawn. Juliet has a point. This girl seems pretty crazy. There are some pictures on there that she couldn't have taken without being a stalker."

"At least Guster has his head on right in this situation."

"She's not crazy, just devoted," Shawn argued.

"Obsessed," Lassiter countered.

"Passionate!" Shawn corrected him.

"You know what, Spencer. You can have your little fan club, just make sure and tell them to leave me alone," Lassiter snapped and headed for his desk.

Gus checked his watch. "I'd better head out; I need to finish up my route today."

"Buddy, we're going goofy golfing," Shawn objected.

"Saturday," Gus promised and headed for the door.

"McNab, where are my reports?" Lassiter snapped, bringing the rookie cop out of his study of .

"I-I'll go get those, sir," MaNab stuttered and headed for the front desk.

"Seems everyone has to work," Shawn sighed. "I guess I'll go get a Twix bar and eat it all by myself."

"Just be careful, Shawn. This girl is unsettling," Juliet reminded him. She gave him a smile, but Shawn could see the concern in her eyes.

"Scout's honor, Jules. I already promised Gus I wouldn't call her."

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Spencerites have I got some news for you!

I almost fell off my chair when I checked my email this afternoon. Apparently our letter writing campaign to Detective Lassiter has paid off. Although I have yet to receive word that Detective Lassiter has acknowledged the usefulness of Shawn, I did get an email from... *drumroll* The Psychic himself! I was so excited I'm sure the neighbors wondered if I was being murdered. After collecting myself, I had to decide when and where our interview should be. I know, I know, half of you would tell me the bedroom, lit by candle light. Of course, I won't be doing that any time soon ;). I will be meeting with him for a cup of coffee. I won't tell you when or where, I don't need my first interview with Shawn to be interrupted as he is mobbed by fans. I'll let you know how everything goes!

~ Laura