A/N: A one-week challenge with the theme of 'Never have I ever...' in mind. I'm really looking forward to this! Enjoy!

Also, please note that on AO3 (pen name is Wandererzaehler, too), the challenge will be in one story and therefore easier to follow!

Day 01:

Never have I ever...

…written anything to do with Psych!

Juliet watched in disbelief as Lassiter's car drove into a tree.

One second it was speeding down the street, the next it swung off towards the trees and came to rest against one with a nerve-racking screech of protesting metal. Even from a distance, O'Hara saw that there was no way someone sitting in the front could be unhurt after this impact.

Lassiter, crouching next to her with a bloodied hoodie pressed to his bleeding temple, groaned; though O'Hara wasn't sure if it was out of pain or shock. He wasn't fully conscious and in a lot of pain.

Meanwhile Gus got up and began running down the street towards where the car stood demolished. He stumbled once and nearly fell, but that didn't stop him: "Shawn!", he yelled at the top of his voice, "Shawn!"

There was no answer, though Juliet kept telling herself that maybe she just didn't hear it over the ringing in her ears. She started to shake uncontrollably all the same, unable to move.

Lassiter hadn't shown up for work. He usually was punctual to the minute, operating like clockwork, so she had a weird feeling in her guts that something was wrong. O'Hara knew he lived for his work since his separation, and she appreciated it (for the moment, at least). It helped her not to think too much about how fascinating she thought Shawn's messy way of proceeding – even if that mess yielded more results than Carlton's steady rhythm.

She started calling people, called Shawn and Gus, too, and soon they were on a hot trail.

A trail which had led them here.

How was it possible that a day that began with mundane, every-day tasks ended in disaster? Only a few hours ago, all had been well with the world.

"Where's Spencer?", Lassiter asked, and Juliet realised that he hadn't seen the car's tail lights veering off the street. "And where is my goddamn car?"

A short way away she could still hear Gus yelling Shawn's name. Juliet swallowed, fighting a hiccoughing sob back, and pulled her jacket tighter around herself, fighting for an answer.

"I guess you'll need a new one, Lassie", she heard someone say to her left, and O'Hara jerked, stifling a surprised yell, and turned around to see Shawn coming out of the wood phoenix-like.

Lassiter opened his mouth, probably to give Shawn a piece of his mind, but then he pressed the hoodie firmer against his head wound, grumbled something and thought better of it.

He needed a doctor, soon.

"You know Lassie, I think that's just fair, considering that you ruined my new shirt! And by the way, Jules, there's a guy for you to book, just a little way down there."

Shawn pointed vaguely down the street.

Juliet stared at him with mouth agape, barely believing her eyes. If she hadn't still heard Guster call for his friend, she'd have believed that she was seeing things. That maybe Lassiter's car didn't drive into a tree after all.

"... how?", she asked.

Shawn shrugged and rolled his eyes: "I jumped off, Jules, what else? And he did, too; apparently he'd rather go to jail than forcefully hug a tree. The timing was important, though, I can tell you. Ha! I told my Dad that one day watching The Fast and the Furious would pay off!"

He frowned, looked round and then realised where Guster had gone off to: "Yo! Gus! Over here!"

"Shawn? Shawn!" Gus turned and ran back, waving his arms.

Juliet got up to her feet, her shock turning into anger as she stared at Shawn who appeared quite unfazed by the whole situation.

"You okay, Jules? You look a bit pale."

Shawn had known full well how wrong this could go – but he'd still been all too ready to exchange himself for a hurt Lassiter to keep her and Gus out of the fray, getting into the car with an out of control psychopath. Shawn would probably pretend he'd had a back-up plan if asked (or any plan whatsoever), but Juliet was sure this had been the work of a moment.

"The right timing? Action films? Are you serious, Shawn?! That was sheer, dumb luck! You could have died! You could have killed yourself!"

To her surprise, Shawn flinched, and for a moment she got a glimpse of what he hid behind the cheerful façade. Now she saw that his fingers were shaking, too, just as badly as hers, that he limped because of a deep, bloody scratch visible beneath his torn trouser leg and that the way in which he held his right arm sure didn't look healthy.

Shawn, too, was pale, and there was something in his eyes she hadn't seen before. Something that might very well be fear.

For a moment, the two of them looked at each other quietly, and Juliet was too stunned at this new realisation to say anything. She was no less afraid now than she had been moments before.

Her anger dwindled.

"Don't ever do that again, Shawn. Please."

He gave her a shaky smile: "Cross my heart."

And just like that, the moment was gone as Gus reached them and Juliet, heart still racing madly, searched for her handcuffs.

.

The End