Chapter 6

Gus stared at Shawn, expression hovering between worried and confused. Shawn was gazing down at the sunglasses in his hand, the brown paper wrapping still held loosely in his other hand.

"Shawn, what does that mean?" Gus finally asked.

Shawn kept his eyes down, and Gus started to tip more towards the worried end of the spectrum.

"I'm not sure, yet, buddy," said Shawn. His voice sounded like he was trying to sound normal. "But, I need a huge favor right now." He finally looked up at Gus with a neutral expression that Gus could tell was forced. "I need to borrow your car."

Gus drew in a sharp breath. "Shawn..."

"Please, man. It's no big deal. Seriously. I'm dead serious here, Gus. I just need to borrow your car, really quick."

"Don't say dead."

Shawn sighed, some exasperation, or maybe desperation, leaking through. "Gus, don't be an untied shoelace that's been dragged through a mud puddle. Just let me use your car for, like, a half hour. Please!"

Gus grimaced, but Shawn's use of one of his standard jokes eased his mind slightly. "Well, I guess you can. Where are you going? Is this about the case, and the sunglasses?"

"Seriously, man, just a quick errand. Don't worry about it. I'll call you when I'm done."

"Damn it, Shawn, if you go off and get into trouble..." he began, but he left the threat hanging, because he wasn't really sure how to finish it anyway. If Shawn got into trouble, it'd be a normal day. Gus dug the keys out of his pocket and handed them to his friend, hoping fervently that he wasn't making a mistake. "Are you going right now? What should I tell Juliet and Lassiter?"

"Just tell them I'll be back soon. Thanks buddy!" He turned and practically ran out of the station. Gus felt a cold lump of dread drop into his stomach as he watched him go.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoO

"He WHAT?" yelled Lassiter, jumping to his feet and then adding a small hop as his knee protested.

"Carlton, calm down," said Juliet.

"Yes, please, detective," said Vick, rubbing at the ear that was still ringing from Lassiter's volume.

Lassiter bared his teeth and waved a hand in frustration, but then he took a breath and calmed his voice. "Guster, where did Spencer go?"

Gus fidgeted in the office doorway, growing more agitated by the moment. "I don't know. He just said he had to run an errand."

"Now, let me get this straight," said Vick. "Shawn received a package, here at the station, which you think may have been dropped off by this suspect, Keaton?"

"I guess so. McNab gave us the package and said the guy who dropped it off was wearing sunglasses."

"And that's why you think it may have been Keaton? Couldn't it just have been a person who found these, you said they were sunglasses, in the package? Couldn't it be someone who came upon them and knew he could reach Shawn here to return them?"

"All due respect, Chief, that's not very likely either," said Lassiter who started to pace as he spoke, limping heavily. "If this was just a person who knew the sunglasses belonged to Henry, why wouldn't he just take them back to Henry? No, I believe that the person who delivered the package here was Keaton."

Juliet saw the skepticism on Vick's face and decided to throw in her support. "I agree, Chief. This seems too coincidental to not be related to the case."

"But why would he send Shawn his father's sunglasses?"

Lassiter's brow furrowed as he paused and leaned against the back of a chair. "I'm not sure. This guy seems to really like toying with us. Maybe it's some kind of taunt. He must've figured out that Shawn helped us on his prior case."

Gus's face suddenly lit up. "Oh! I remember earlier that Shawn's dad called and told him his house had been burgled just this morning. I guess he said there's been a string of break-ins in his neighborhood."

"Bingo!" said Lassiter. "Keaton probably broke into Henry's house himself, after setting up the screen of other burglaries in the area. He probably got the sunglasses then, and sent them to Shawn tonight."

Juliet looked confused. "But why? What's the point of taunting Shawn about robbing his father's house? And where did Shawn go, if this was just a taunt?"

They all thought about it for a few moments. Juliet and Vick were still seated across from each other at Vick's desk. Lassiter was leaning against a chair, and Gus was hovering in the doorway, hands in his pockets, looking like he wanted to turn back time and not give his friend his car keys. Behind Gus, there was a flurry of activity as the phones kept ringing and officers rushed around in the midst of the prank calls.

"Gus, was there a note or anything?" asked Juliet. "Shawn didn't get a call?"

Gus thought for a moment, remembering how Shawn had stared down at the sunglasses in his hand. But then he suddenly remembered the glasses weren't the only things in Shawn's hands. "Oh my god!" he said. "The wrapping. Shawn was holding the glasses and the wrapping and looking down at them for a long time. I thought it was odd. I couldn't see it, but maybe there was something written on the wrapping!"

Chief Vick sighed and rubbed her temples. She could see her messages flashing and felt the pressure of the rash of prank calls building up around her. "I'm sorry, detectives, Mr. Guster, but this whole situation is just a bit too amorphous right now. And we have another, very serious, issue we need to attend to immediately. These calls are straining our resources, and they don't appear to be slowing. We need to figure out where these calls are coming from and get them stopped."

Lassiter put his hands on his head and took a deep breath, the agitation that was building up in him painfully obvious. "Chief, please, we have to follow up on this. If it's Keaton, the bastard actually walked in here, right under our noses! And whatever this message was to Spencer, whether it was just the glasses or whether there was a note, it was enough to get him to leave without telling us. You know as well as I do that's a bad sign."

Vick sighed and nodded. "Yes, and if he didn't even tell Mr. Guster here, that's a really bad sign," she said. "Okay, I can spare you and O'Hara for this, but I cannot give you anyone else at this time. Go find Shawn. If this does seem to be a more serious situation, then call in and we'll send whomever we can to back you up. Be careful."

"Thank you, Chief," said Juliet as she stood and headed out of the office on Gus's heels.

"Thank you, Chief," said Lassiter as he limped after his partner.

The three of them convened around Lassiter's desk to figure out their next move. Lassiter sat heavily in his chair, rubbing absently at his right leg. Juliet and Gus stood together on the other side of the desk.

Gus got a frightened look on his face. "Do you think this guy has done something to Shawn's dad?"

Juliet and Lassiter exchanged a concerned look. "I don't know, Gus," said Juliet. "We can't be sure, but do you think if Shawn thought his father was in danger he'd just leave without asking us for help?"

"Maybe the note said something like 'don't bring help.'"

"Since when has Spencer ever done anything he's told?" asked Lassiter. "And besides, Henry Spencer is one tough cookie. This guy has been smart, but I'm not sure he's smart enough to take on Henry."

Gus nodded, looking slightly placated. "Well, where did Shawn go then?"

"We're not going to figure that out sitting around here," said Lassiter, standing again and putting on his suit coat. He adjusted the coat and did a quick check of his shoulder holster and weapon. "Let's go find him."

"Where should we start?" asked Juliet.

"We should split up so we can cover more ground. Just keep in touch. If anything seems off, call immediately so we can back each other up. O'Hara, start with the Psych office. Guster and I will head to Henry's house."

Juliet nodded. "Okay guys, be careful." She walked over to her desk to retrieve her cell phone and then headed out.

"Guster," said Lassiter. "I'm going to need you to drive my car."

Gus nodded, looking a bit anxious at the idea of driving a police car. "Of course. No problem."

"I would appreciate it if you didn't get any dents or scratches on it," said Lassiter as he limped past Gus on the way to the door.

Gus huffed. "Excuse me? Have you not seen the care I've taken with my Echo these past few years?" he said indignantly. "I'm a very good driver."

Lassiter paused, suddenly struck with the notion of making a reference to the movie Rain Man based on what Guster had just said. His ex-wife had loved that movie, and he'd had to watch it more than once. The idea, however, reminded him of Spencer's constant movie references. The thought that he might behave even a tiny bit like Spencer sent a small shiver down his spine.

Gus stepped up next to him and asked, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he said gruffly. "Let's go."

oOoOoOoOoOoOoO

Lassiter moved slowly into Henry's house, with Gus trailing a bit behind. He had his hand hovering near his holster, just in case. The lights were on in the kitchen and living room, but otherwise the house was empty. When they'd pulled in the driveway, it was obvious that the blue Echo was absent, if it had been there at all. Gus had hissed a quiet 'dammit' when it was clear that Shawn wasn't there. They'd noticed, however, that Henry's truck was parked in its normal spot. Despite his words at the station, Lassiter was feeling a knot of apprehension about Henry Spencer. It was possible that Keaton had come after him, though he still didn't believe, or maybe he was just fervently hoping, that wasn't the case. But the house being unlocked, and Henry's truck still being here, without Henry, weren't good signs.

"What a mess," said Gus, as he took in the scattered chaos of Henry's living room. "I guess he didn't have time to clean up before, well, before...oh hell."

"Settle down, Guster. There's still no evidence of foul play, other than the mess left by the burglars. Just keep your eyes open for anything that might tell us if Shawn was here."

Gus wandered around the kitchen, scanning the counters and the small table. Lassiter stood in the living room, turning slowly to take in all of the details, trying to look behind the clutter. He could see the pattern the burglars had taken, opening cabinet doors and just pulling everything out, spreading things out on the couch and coffee table. But why go through all of that work to take nothing? Maybe they were looking for something specific that they didn't find, or they found something small that Henry hadn't realized was missing. Lassiter sighed. As his eyes scanned over the couch one more time, though, he froze.

"Guster, did Henry say anything about his gun?"

"I heard Shawn ask him about it. He'd said it wasn't taken."

Lassiter drew in a breath as a cold wave washed over him. "Shawn was here, then," he said ominously as he limped over to the couch and picked up the handgun case he'd spotted. It was empty. "He took Henry's gun."

Gus had been staring intently at something on the kitchen wall, but at Lassiter's words he flinched. "He WHAT? Oh my god."

"I guess the note did say 'don't bring help,' and he's decided to deal with this alone. The idiot," said Lassiter, stomach sinking at the thought of Shawn with a gun, and of whatever might be happening to Henry.

Gus was shaking his head as if he still couldn't wrap his mind around the situation. But then he blinked and said, "But, I don't think Keaton has done anything to Shawn's dad after all. Look at the calendar. He marked off a camping trip, set for today. It says 'Camping, pickup at 6PM.' His friends probably picked him up, and that's why his truck is still here."

Lassiter limped into the kitchen to examine the calendar. "So, Henry's just gone camping? Shawn didn't know about it?"

"Probably not," said Gus with a grimace. "You know how they are."

Lassiter rolled his eyes. "I don't get those two."

Gus shrugged. "It's...complicated."

"What's the deal with Keaton then? What did the note say to get Spencer so worked up?"

"Maybe Keaton did say he'd done something to Shawn's dad, just as a way to bait him? I mean, we can't be 100% sure he hasn't done something to Henry, can we? Shawn couldn't know either."

Lassiter ran his fingers through his hair, feeling exasperated. "Yeah, we can't know anything for sure, until we find Shawn. And now he's running around with a gun." He almost said 'can it get any worse?' but stopped himself, because he already knew the answer to that one.

"Let's look at this from Shawn's point of view," said Lassiter. "He got the note, presumably saying something threatening about Henry. Shawn comes here, doesn't find his dad, so he gets the gun...and where does he go?"

"Maybe the note did say where to go and he came here specifically for the gun," said Gus. "But that hardly makes sense. The last thing Shawn would ever want to do is use a gun. He's a great shot, but he hates them. I don't think he could ever actually shoot a person."

Lassiter grimaced, unable to identify with that kind of attitude. He didn't like having to shoot people, but when it came to protecting the innocent, and himself, he had no qualms about it. Just another reason Spencer didn't become a cop I suppose.

"That note must've really gotten under his skin," Gus continued.

"Keaton won't know how Spencer feels about guns. But if he took it for leverage, and he won't actually use it, that's a big gamble."

Gus nodded, looking desolate.

"Let's go," said Lassiter as he headed out of the house.

"Where?"

"Where else would Henry Spencer be, if not here?"

"His boat," said Gus as he followed Lassie outside and they got into the car.

"Seems to be our best option right now," said Lassiter. He dialed his phone as Gus started to drive towards the marina. "O'Hara, did you find anything at the Psych office?"

"Nothing. No sign of Shawn here at all. How about you?"

"He was here and gone again, and it looks like he took Henry's gun," he said, hearing Juliet's sharp intake of breath at the news. "We're heading to the marina next. One other thing we found. It looks like Henry may not even be in town right now. He had a camping trip marked on his calendar. Keaton may be leading Spencer, and us, on a wild goose chase. But we can't be sure, yet."

"I understand. Carlton, I just got a call from dispatch that one of the shots fired reports was called in just around the corner from where I am right now. They want me to check it, since I'm so close. Do you want to wait for me at the marina?"

"Just get there as soon as you can."

"Okay partner. Be careful."

"You too."

oOoOoOoOoOoOoO

Spencer, you're an idiot. Shawn wasn't sure if it was hilarious or horrifying that his internal, self-criticizing voice had started sounding like Lassiter now as often as it sounded like his dad. He decided it was both. He held the gun steady, aimed squarely at the man's chest, finger not on the trigger but ready to slip onto it, and he knew, in his core, that he'd never be able to actually shoot the guy, if it came to it. Moron!

"So, my dad isn't here, and never was. The note was just a screen, like all the other screens you've used," said Shawn. He was trying to figure out what to do next. Stalling for time seemed the best option. Hopefully, Lassie and Jules and Gus would figure out where he'd run off to and come to the rescue.

The man Shawn was holding at bay smiled brightly, obviously enjoying himself way too much. Ronald Keaton was standing a dozen feet away from Shawn on the pier. He had a boat hook that Shawn assumed he'd gotten from his dad's boat, and he was holding it almost like a walking stick, both hands on it while he leaned against it nonchalantly.

"Oh, that reminds me," said Keaton, as he dug around in the messenger bag he had slung over his shoulder. "Excuse me for just a moment while I make a call." He pulled a small cell phone out of the bag and flipped it open with one hand. "Hello, I'm calling to report some really loud sounds that just went off next door. I think it may have been gun shots! Please, send someone to look. I'm at 2743 Willowcreek Court." He flipped the phone closed, grinning broadly, and then tossed it off the pier into the water behind Henry's boat. "Damn that's fun. Whoever invented prepaid cell phones was a freaking saint."

Shawn grimaced. He studied Keaton, trying to get an idea of what made him tick. He was in his 40s, with short, thinning black hair. He was about 5'9" and looked for all the world like he should be selling insurance out of a cubicle somewhere. He had a strange athleticism about him, though, a smoothness when he moved which made Shawn suspect that the man had some martial arts training. Great, I'm probably holding a gun on the shorter, slightly less pudgy version of Steven Segall. No wonder he doesn't look worried at all. Ten minutes earlier, Shawn had arrived at the marina and had run directly to his dad's boat. Gun drawn, he'd boarded and searched, but had found nothing except a large duffel bag sitting on the deck. Once he'd been sure his dad wasn't on board, he'd started to look in the bag, but Keaton had approached on the pier. Shawn had stepped off the boat to face Keaton, and that's how they'd ended up in their current standoff.

"Now, Shawn," drawled Keaton. "You obviously found your father's gun, so I assume you brought the boat keys like I asked. Hand them to me and I'll be on my way. No harm, no foul."

Shawn scoffed. "No harm except for several murders and dozens of robberies. Not to mention the mugging of a police officer."

"And the stealing of an ex-police officer's boat. But you forgot the 'allegedly' on all of those charges, because I'm pretty sure there's not enough evidence against me on any of them. Just give me the keys now. It's no use stalling any more."

"Oh, I always find stalling useful. It helps me avoid so many, many lame things. So that duffel bag on the boat is full of cash I take it? Your earnings from those hit jobs five years ago?"

Keaton grinned. "I've been checking up on you too, you know. You and that psychic business con game you're running. You've got a lot of talent, and you've gotten yourself burrowed in with the police. Did you help them with my case? I've been curious about that."

Shawn shrugged, wondering what Keaton was getting at. "I wasn't officially working for the SBPD for your case."

"That's not a 'no.'"

"I may have called in a tip," said Shawn. He kept looking past Keaton down the pier, fervently hoping to see Lassie and Jules running in like Batman and Catwoman to the rescue. Especially the Catwoman part.

Keaton was eyeing Shawn intently. He changed his grip on the boat hook slightly and Shawn snapped his focus back to the murderer.

"Put that thing down," said Shawn.

"Make me."

Shawn sighed, feeling his arms starting to shake with the effort of holding the gun up for so long. He wondered if Keaton was just waiting for him to tire. Maybe Keaton was the one doing the stalling. Shawn shivered at the thought.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoO

Lassiter limped slowly down the pier, keeping close to structures and stacks of boxes, squinting as he tried to see if there was anyone up ahead. The bright pools of light from the security lights made the dark areas in between even darker. He hoped that O'Hara would show up soon for backup, just in case something was happening at Henry's boat. Gus had protested, but only a little bit, about having to stay with the car to help guide Juliet if and when she arrived. The last thing he needed right now was a cowering civilian on his heels as he walked into an unknown situation.

As he got further down the pier, he was finally able to see the boat, and that's when he saw the two figures. The figure next to Henry's boat had a gun drawn on the other figure who was standing in the middle of the pier and whose back was mostly to Lassiter. He realized it was Shawn holding the gun, and he drew his own weapon, pausing for a moment to try to figure out the situation. The other man was obviously Keaton, or Shawn wouldn't be holding a gun on him. They seemed to be at a stalemate. Not for long.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoO

Keaton's grin was starting to look predatory. "You know, if we worked together, we could do amazing things."

Shawn scoffed. Suddenly, he caught a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye. Someone was coming towards them on the pier. Shawn felt a rush of relief when he recognized the figure's pronounced limp.

Keaton noticed Shawn's reaction and glanced down the pier. The smile on his face faded slightly and he shifted his stance. "You really shouldn't have told your friends. This won't end well."

"I didn't, asshole," said Shawn. Then he raised his voice. "Lassie! Look who I got here. Someone you've been wanting to meet. Again. Because I guess you met him before when you arrested him, y'know, before."

Lassiter approached the pair, weapon drawn as well and aimed at Keaton. He was trying to stay towards the edge of the pier to have a better angle on Keaton without risking a crossfire with Shawn. "Spencer, is your father here?"

"No," said Shawn with a sour look on his face. He was still pissed off at himself for getting fooled.

"All right, Keaton. Put that stick down and get on your knees. You're under arrest."

"Hello, again, detective. Since you are so conveniently here," he said with a venomous look at Shawn. "I wanted to thank you for the use of your gun. It was satisfying to be able to resolve my past relationships so neatly. Now I can really start fresh."

Lassiter sneered. "Sure, a nice, fresh life sentence in prison, you bastard. Now put down that stick."

Keaton was studying Lassiter and Shawn intensely. Lassiter continued to approach slowly, one step at a time, and he started to side-step along the edge of the pier to maintain a good angle. Keaton eyed Lassiter's injured knee and made no move to comply with his order. Shawn watched how Keaton was watching them and got the sudden, sinking feeling that he was measuring distances. And Lassie was beginning to get into range of a swing of the boat hook.

"Lassie, stop," said Shawn.

Lassiter paused, eyes flicking briefly from Keaton to Shawn. "Why?"

"Because..."started Shawn, but Keaton interrupted.

"I bet it's frustrating, detective, to have a smartass like this guy around who thinks he can do your job better than you."

Lassiter's gaze snapped back to Keaton. "Put that stick down and put your hands behind your head," he said with his most authoritative voice.

"I mean, does he really solve all of your crimes for you now?" continued Keaton, still ignoring Lassiter's orders.

"Put the bag and the stick down. Get on your knees, and put your hands behind your head."

Keaton let out an exaggerated sigh and looked at Shawn. "No wonder you have to do all the work. This guy's really got a stick up his..."

"Shut up," said Shawn, seeing through Keaton's taunts. "Lassie he's trying to make you mad so he..."

"I know, Spencer."

"No, I mean I think he can..."

"So you really don't care, detective, that this snotty kid solves crime better than you?"

"All I care about is people like you getting locked up. However that happens, within the law, is fine by me," said Lassiter sincerely. "Now, put down that bag and stick."

Keaton laughed and shifted his stance again, shooting a look of malevolence at Shawn. "Well, that was very precious," he said as he shifted the bag on his shoulder. "Here you go then." He slipped the bag off of his shoulder, but instead of easing it to the pier with the handle he turned it over with a quick flick so that it opened up, spilling its contents towards Lassiter. A dozen cell phones clattered and bounced on the pier, looking vaguely like flopping fish.

As the phones skidded across the wood, Keaton sprang. He took a quick step towards Lassiter, ducking low, and twisted to carry through a two-handed swing of the boat hook that connected squarely with Lassiter's right knee. Lassiter cried out as his legs were swept from underneath him. He landed hard on his right side just at the edge of the pier, catching himself partly with his right elbow. His gun fell out of his hand and skittered several feet away to rest on the lip of the pier. He looked up just as Keaton was swinging the boat hook over his head. He pulled his arms up to cover his head as Keaton delivered a vicious blow to his ribs.

"Stop it!" yelled Shawn, staring with horror at the scene. Keaton had moved unbelievably fast. "Stop!" He aimed the gun carefully and pulled the trigger.

Keaton landed another blow to Lassiter's ribs before shoving the detective off of the pier with his foot. He looked at Shawn with a feral grin and said, "You missed."

Shawn heard Lassiter's strangled yelp and saw the splash of water as he disappeared over the side. He felt his stomach twist. I should've shot him. But then he saw that Keaton had turned to him and was approaching like a stalking cat. Shawn raised the gun again. "Stop, now," he said, dismayed to hear a tremor in his voice.

"Make me. You're obviously not going to shoot me, or you would've done it before." Keaton raised the boat hook and continued to approach.

Shawn aimed and fired, this time hitting the target he'd been aiming at before. Keaton hissed and the boat hook flew out of his grip as the bullet impacted it. "Got it that time," said Shawn.

There was a faint splashing sound next to the pier, and Shawn felt a quick wave of relief. Lassie's swimming. His relief turned to a cold spike of dread when he noticed Keaton reaching around behind his back. Oh no, he has the .38. Shawn pointed his gun at Keaton's chest as the other man started to swing his arm towards Shawn. Everything seemed to move in slow motion as Shawn watched the hand with the gun arcing around to come into line with his body. He felt his finger slip to the trigger of his father's gun and start to squeeze. He heard a loud bang and flinched. Then another bang in quick succession. He saw Keaton jerk, and he wasn't sure for a moment which gun or guns had fired as the surreal slow motion continued. Did we both shoot? Are we both dead? Then he saw Keaton go slack and fall to the pier.

His heart felt like it stopped at the thought that he'd shot someone, but when he looked at his gun his finger was off of the trigger. He hadn't fired. Elation and confusion coursed through him as his eyes finally landed on Lassiter. The detective was hanging just over the edge of the pier, chin on the wood and both arms outstretched with his gun still aimed at Keaton's crumpled form.

"Holy, holy CRAP! LASSIE! Oh my god, did you really shoot him? Twice? Wait, you got him twice, right? Or am I shot?" He looked down and patted his chest, not finding any mortal wounds. "That's amazing!"

Water was still sluicing down Lassiter's face, and his teeth were bared as he gritted out, "Thanks Spencer, but would you get his damned gun now and get me out of here?"

"Oh my god, I can't believe it." Shawn inched towards Keaton and reached down to retrieve the .38. Keaton's eyes were open and blank, and Shawn's euphoria broke. He started to feel the trembling after-effects of adrenalin. "Can't believe it," he said again under his breath, suddenly feeling almost nauseous as his emotions started to yo-yo.

He turned and ran to the edge of the pier where Lassiter was struggling to pull himself up. "Come on out of there before you get all pruney." He put the guns down and pulled at Lassiter's upper arms while the detective got his left leg up and over the edge of the pier.

Lassiter rolled onto his back and groaned, feeling a sharp poking in his ribs when he breathed in too deeply. Shawn sat down heavily next to him, forearms resting on his knees.

"Spencer if you ever..." Lassiter began, but then he looked at Shawn's face and saw the turmoil of emotions playing over it. "Never mind," he said tiredly.

"Lassie?" said Shawn.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you," he said, meeting Lassiter's eyes with a sober look.

"It's my job, Shawn. It's what I do," he said quietly. Then a sad expression crossed his face for a moment. "Sometimes, it's what I have to do."

Shawn nodded and glanced at the guns lying on the pier next to him. "Thank you for doing what you have to do." He looked towards Keaton's body and saw the scattered cell phones, noticing for the first time that among them lay a pair of Ray Bans. He took in a deep breath, feeling like it was the first breath he'd taken in a long time.

The sound of footsteps reached them, and Juliet yelled, "Carlton! Shawn!" She and Gus came running up to them. Juliet had her weapon out, but she holstered it again when she saw the body on the pier. "Oh my god, are you guys okay? Carlton?"

"I'm fine, O'Hara," he said as he sat up, groaning at the effort and holding his right arm tight across his ribs. His clothes were still dripping into the puddle that had formed around him. Juliet walked over to Keaton's body and pulled out her phone.

"Yeah, you look fine too," said Gus with an edge of exasperated sarcasm. "Shawn, are you okay? Did you shoot that guy?" His voice rose to a near-squeak with his last question.

"No, Aqua-Lassie did."

Lassiter rolled his eyes as he wrung the water out of his tie.

"Oh, good," said Gus with relief.

Shawn jumped up and clapped his friend on the shoulder. "And here you are again, coming to my rescue," he said with a grin, feeling the emotional yo-yo tipping back to elation. Then he waved his hand at Lassie. "Both of you. You're like Tenspeed and Brownshoe!"

Gus's forehead wrinkled and he shook his head. "Unh-uh."

"Ponch and John?"

"Ehhh..."

"Hey, what about me?" said Juliet, finished with her call to the station.

"Okay, then it has to be Batman and Robin, so Jules here can be Catwoman."

Juliet rolled her eyes. "In your dreams, Shawn."

"Quite often, Jules."

Gus and Lassiter both groaned. Juliet leaned over to check on her partner, patting him on the back for his good shooting. Shawn started to bounce on his toes with excess energy. He bantered with Gus about the various other pairs and teams of crime fighters they could compare themselves to until the sounds of sirens reached them from the shore.

The End