Once the cops had cleared the building, a detective came over to them. Shawn recognized him as a brown noser named Aarons from hanging around the station with his dad.

"What the hell happened, Lassiter?" His eyes flicking between the two Reyes members on the floor and Lassiter's shoulder.

"Investigated some suspicious activity," Lassiter said, motioning with his good hand. "Found these two, the one there got off a lucky shot. I think it just grazed me, though."

"That's a lot of blood for it being grazed," Shawn muttered, still not entirely convinced he'd kept Lassiter from getting killed.

"Who is this?" Aarons had just noticed Shawn for the first time.

"Henry Spencer's brother," Lassiter didn't even bat an eye. "Helped me out in a big way. Now where is the damn ambulance, a cop could bleed out standing here."

Aarons hauled the conscious Reyes member to his feet and took both him and Lassiter towards one side of the building.

Shawn knew if he had to give any statements about what had happened Lassiter would find out the truth about how many brothers his dad actually had. He made sure that Lassiter wasn't paying attention, Shawn doubted he could see through the swarm of cops and EMTs. Then he slipped out one of the doors and headed away from all the cops.

OoO OoO OoO OoO

Shawn got about a block away from the warehouse before he looked back. No one was chasing after him. He had saved Lassiter's life. He grinned to himself and then the smile faltered. If he had saved Lassie's life, shouldn't he be going home now? He could feel a small twist in his stomach. What if he never went back? There was no way he could just live his life in 1994. How would he cope without Gus, or watching the way the light glinted off Juliet's hair when she was irritated, or gluing Lassie's desk drawer shut? He supposed he could still glue Lassie's drawer shut, but it wouldn't be the same without Gus to keep watch.

He sat down under a tree and watched the warehouse some more. Maybe he had left too soon. Maybe the EMTs would nick one of Lassiter's veins and he would bleed out on the ride to the hospital. Maybe this was like the movie, The Time Machine, where Lassie had to die no matter how many times Shawn tried to stop it. He chewed his lip. Maybe Lassiter was still going to die.

"Thank you," a quiet voice murmured to Shawn's right.

Shawn was so exhausted that he didn't even jump at Ghost Lassiter's sudden appearance. "Lassie, seriously, stop it with the creeping up on people." He tried to sound irritated, but he just couldn't do it.

"I can't help it if my footfalls are silent," the ghost grumbled. He sighed and then repeated himself. "Thank you."

Shawn nodded stiffly, "well, you know, since I was in the neighborhood and all, I figured I should help you out."

"Do you think your life will go back to annoying the crap out of me?" Lassiter asked. Shawn could hear a note of hopefulness in his voice.

"What makes you think I annoy the crap out of you in my normal life?" He turned to look at the ghost.

Lassiter raised an eyebrow. "Are you seriously asking that?"

"Right," Shawn muttered, "you're Lassie, too."

"Do you think you'll go back to normal?" Lassiter asked again.

"I think so," Shawn shrugged, "if I can ever get back there." He dug in the dirt with the toe of his shoe.

Shawn could hear the noise from the warehouse. He heard sirens as the ambulance, probably the one carrying Lassiter, sped away.

"Am I really going to marry Victoria Parker?" Lassiter broke the silence that washed over them.

Shawn nodded, "probably, you really do like her though."

"She's going to break my heart, isn't she," Lassiter said softly.

"Probably," Shawn nodded again. "You're also probably going to grow a mustache that belongs on Tom Selleck's face and you're probably going to be accused of murdering Chavez in the middle of the station."

"And by probably you mean it will happen," Lassiter sighed. "My life sounds like it sucks."

"No," Shawn shook his head. "I mean, there are parts of your life that suck, and there are times where you look really unhappy. But you're part of the team, Lassie. A part that I missed when you weren't there. I mean, I wouldn't travel back in time for just anyone."

There was no answer and Shawn glanced over to see if the ghost was glaring at him for being all sappy and emotional, but Lassiter wasn't there. He looked around the tree and even called out Lassiter's name a couple times, but there was no answer.

"Seriously, Lassie, this isn't funny," Shawn complained, then he thought for a second. Maybe Ghost Lassie has disappeared because he'd actually done it, he'd actually changed history back to normal.

"Spencer!"

Shawn heard his name being called and whipped his head around to see who it was, succeeding in smacking his head into the tree he'd been sitting under. The world went black, but he could swear he heard bells ringing.

OoO OoO OoO OoO

The bells were still ringing and they were really, really loud. Shawn winced and slowly opened his eyes. Maybe he'd dreamt the whole adventure at the warehouse and that was just Lassie's alarm going off again. He braced himself, expecting the cop to yell at him, yank away his blankets and send him crashing to the floor.

The yelling never came, but the bells would not stop ringing. That was when Shawn realized the ringing was his cell phone. It was his ringtone for Juliet specifically. He scrambled up, his eyes going wide when he realized that he was standing in the middle of the Psych office.

His phone finally went silent and as Shawn looked for it, he heard the beep letting him know that there was a voice mail waiting.

He found his phone was underneath a stack of files and magazines on his desk and Shawn quickly checked the message.

"Hi, Shawn, it's me. There was a robbery at Candyopolis and the chief wants to bring Psych in to consult. I'm heading down to the scene now. I'll call Gus next in case you're with him. See you there!"

Juliet's message was exactly the same as the one she had left him when Shawn had been out getting smoothies with Gus. Before he had gone to the crime scene to find Detective Barry there.

Shawn wasted no time sending Gus a quick text that he was heading down to the crime and scene. Then he was out the door and starting up his bike.

OoO OoO OoO OoO

Gus was just getting out of the blueberry as Shawn parked his bike at the candy store.

"Shawn!" Gus gave a wave and jogged over to him. "Is everything okay? I thought we were meeting for smoothies this morning."

"No time to explain, Gus," Shawn almost ran towards the store. "I just need to check on something."

"Shawn!" Gus' voice was annoyed this time as Shawn darted under the crime tape.

The crime scene was exactly as it had been the last time Shawn had solved this case. The clerk was on the floor, shot in the chest.

"I want you to get me the surveillance footage," Juliet was talking to McNab. She waved Shawn and Gus over when she saw them, sending McNab on his way.

"Jules," Shawn was looking all over the crime scene for a familiar salt and pepper haired head.

"Hey, guys, call came in around ten. We've got the clerk on the floor," Juliet started laying out the scene for them.

"Yeah, yeah Anthony Riley," Shawn nodded. "The kid from the back did it. Don't worry about the cameras, they aren't hooked up."

"That was specific," Gus frowned at Shawn.

"Really specific," Juliet agreed. "Is everything okay, Shawn? You didn't answer your phone this morning. I wasn't sure you were going to be here."

"I'm fine, just overslept," Shawn flashed her a smile and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Where's Lassie?" He braced himself for the questioning looks and then concerned tones.

"Spencer, you've given your assumption of the crime scene, now make like a drumstick and beat it. I'd like to get some actual police work done today."

Shawn had never in his life been so happy to hear the gruff, snarky voice of Head Detective Carlton Lassiter. He turned to see Lassiter, in a suit, walking towards him an annoyed look on his face.

"Lassiepants!" Shawn threw his arms out and closed the few feet distance between them. He wrapped his arms around the detective, giving him a hug.

Lassiter immediately stiffened, "Spencer," he growled.

"Yes, Lassie?" Shawn's voice was muffled against the grey fabric of the suit jacket.

"What in the name of Sweet Lady Justice are you doing?" Lassiter finally succeeded in prying the psychic off. He dusted off his jacket as if Shawn had transferred dirt onto it.

"I was giving you a hug," Shawn grinned, shoving his hands into his pockets, "You looked like you needed one and I was happy to oblige." He was ecstatic and rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet.

Lassiter rolled his eyes and waved for McNab, "since you've given us your vision, or whatever the hell that was, you can leave."

Shawn let McNab escort him and Gus from the crime scene, giving a wave to Juliet and Lassiter. "I'll see you guys later, at the station. I'll expect a check when the guy in the back confesses!"

"Shawn, what was that? You could have been shot." Gus hissed as they headed back to their respective vehicles.

"I had the most bizarre dream last night, buddy. Seriously, I dreamt of a world without Lassie." Shawn shuddered as he thought about his experiences. It felt like he'd been gone for days, but no time had passed at all.

"A world without Lassiter? That sounds kind of nice actually," Gus mused, unlocking his car.

"Shut your face, Gus," Shawn snapped, frowning. "A world without Lassiter means a world where you and I have to play golf on the weekends with a guy who married Lucinda Barry."

Gus raised an eyebrow, "right, are we getting smoothies or not?"

"We are, and then we're going to the station to pick up our check," Shawn decided, swinging a leg over his bike. "Jamba Juice?" He asked, slipping on his helmet.

"You know that's right," Gus agreed.

OoO OoO OoO OoO

Two Jamba Juice smoothies and a soft pretzel later, Shawn and Gus were walking through the station. Shawn couldn't help but grin as he saw everyone's desks in the correct places and the nameplates bearing their correct names.

"You're in a happy mood today," Juliet commented as Shawn presented her with her own smoothie. "I was worried after you didn't call last night."

"I must have eaten something weird at that new Chinese place by the Psych office," Shawn was still smiling.

"I told you that the quotation marks around seafood weren't there for emphasis," Gus muttered.

"Well, I'm glad you're feeling better," Juliet gave Shawn's hand a squeeze.

This public display of affection earned a not so subtle cough and an eyeroll from Lassiter, who was working at his desk.

"Something wrong, Lassie?" Shawn quirked an eyebrow.

"You know damn well what, Spencer," the detective growled, stacking a few papers together and standing.

"Well, I'm sorry you're a bitter, divorced detective who hates to see people in love," Shawn gave Juliet a kiss on the cheek just to annoy him.

"And you're a pain in the ass, just like your uncle." Lassiter called over his shoulder as he headed for the front desk shaking his head.

Gus gave a laugh, "Lassiter clearly doesn't know your Uncle Jack," he checked his watch. "I gotta run and finish up my route. We still on for the tournament tonight?" He looked between Juliet and Shawn.

"Hungry Hungry Hippos it is," Shawn agreed, "as long as you agree to stop tilting the table and cheating."

Gus made a noise of disgust at the idea that he would cheat, and headed for the door.

"I've got to get these reports filed," Juliet picked up a stack of folders. "I'm glad you're feeling better, Shawn, see you tonight."

"See you," Shawn echoed as she headed for the evidence room.

Lassiter made his way back from the front desk. He scowled when he saw Shawn sitting on Juliet's desk. "You're still here?" He asked, annoyed.

"Just on my way out the door," Shawn assured him. He headed past the detective's desk and then doubled back. "Hey, Lassie,"

"What?" Lassiter asked exasperatedly, looking up from his files.

"Before, when you said I'm just like my uncle, you mean my Uncle Jack, right?" Shawn tilted his head to the side.

"The treasure hunter? Of course not, Spencer, you're practically a carbon copy of your other uncle. The one you're named after." Lassiter snapped, putting together another stack of folders.

Shawn watched in shock as Lassiter headed down the stairs to the file room. "But, Lassie," Shawn called softly, knowing the detective wouldn't be able to hear him, "I don't have another uncle."