"All right, all right. No need to do that again." Reaching slowly into his pocket, hampered a little by using his left hand to reach into his right pocket, Shawn withdrew the iPhone and stretched it up towards Leonard. "Here."

Snatching it from his grip, Leonard flung his arm to the side, sending the device flying into a rack of chips across the aisle. A shattering noise could be heard as the phone fell to the ground.

Shawn winced at the noise, then glared at him. "Are you planning to replace that when we're done here? That was the first phone I've managed not to break or lose within a week of -"

A voice from outside interrupted him.

"This is the SBPD! We have you surrounded; come out with your hands up." Shawn recognized Lassiter's voice, which was undoubtedly aided by a bullhorn. "I repeat, come out with your hands up."

Leonard's head jerked towards the front door, and Shawn could practically see the wheels turning in the man's brain. Before Shawn could do anything, however, Leonard had stalked over to the little group on the floor and grabbed onto Shawn's good arm.

"Hey!" Shawn yelped in pain. His already throbbing headache intensified as he was yanked to his feet.

The apparent discomfort of his prisoner didn't seem to affect Leonard one bit, and he dragged Shawn over to the front of the store. He gave Shawn a push towards the door.

"Unlock it," he demanded.

Shawn slowly moved the display racks to the side, wincing at the pain that shot through his arm as well as his head. A plop reached his ears, and he looked down to see red on the floor. A quick look at the towels on his arm showed that they had soaked through and were now leaking down his shirt; the liquid not absorbed by the fabric of his polo was making its way to land on the floor by his feet.

He barely had time to register this, though, before Leonard prodded his back with the gun.

"Move it!" the man snarled. "I'd hate to have to put another bullet through you."

Shawn would have retorted, but he was busy fighting off a wave of nausea that had suddenly engulfed him.

Leonard didn't bother to see why his hostage was hesitating; putting an arm around Shawn's neck, he kicked the door open and stepped outside.

The officers at the front of the building raised their weapons at the sight of two of the occupants emerging. Leonard had been expecting that and swung his own gun to rest on Shawn's temple.

"Anyone makes a move, and I'll shoot him!"

The others hesitated at that, looking to the detectives for direction. Lassiter and Juliet wore determined looks that had only deepened when Leonard and Shawn appeared.

The right side of Shawn's previously-green polo was now soaked with blood, and the front of Leonard's shirt was absorbing some of it as well.. A clump of wet, red cloth was pressed against Shawn's arm, held in place by a belt that also glistened in the light. A concerning amount of blood was running down the tail of the belt to drip off the end and land on the ground beside the two men.

Lassiter's glare hardened when he saw the situation in front of them. He'd known it was too much to hope that the consultant would listen to Juliet and stay in the bathroom. From what he'd seen of this perp so far, the head detective was pretty sure Leonard wouldn't have cleared the stalls very quickly, and Shawn would have been fine. Now they had a hostage situation on their hands, and he was willing to bet that Shawn's antics were the cause of it.

His partner's face stayed stolid, but her eyes betrayed her worry. Even though Juliet had told Shawn to stay put, she had had a sinking feeling that the situation would escalate. Even the smallest things could set a robber off, and there was no guarantee that this guy would be on his way as peaceably as possible for an armed thief.

Leonard took advantage of the pause to make his demands. "I don't want anyone to get hurt, so I'll make this simple. You get me transportation out of here and a guarantee that I won't be followed, and I'll let this psychic go. If I don't have what I want in five minutes, I'm going to give him a few more holes."

Lassiter grimaced. "That idiot told a robber he was psychic?"

Juliet gave him a pointed look but was interrupted when McNab's voice came through Lassiter's radio. As Lassiter stepped away to talk quietly into his handheld, Juliet addressed the man holding a gun to Shawn. "Sir, we're working on it. It might take us longer than five minutes to get you a vehicle, though."

"Don't play games with me!" Leonard yelled. "I know you like to just stall until you can get a shot at me. Well it's not going to work this time!"

"She said she was trying," Shawn spoke up. "You do realize she can't just make a car appear?"

Leonard darted a look at him. "You've gotta be kidding me. Can't you just shut up?"

Behind the door of the police car, Juliet was wondering the same thing. "We're doing our best," she called back.

"There are five cars right there!" Leonard returned. "Give me one of your cruisers, and I'll be on my way."

"Dude, you do realize they put trackers in those things, don't you?"

Juliet closed her eyes in exasperation. "Really, Shawn?" she muttered to herself.

This announcement seemed to have changed Leonard's mind. "Fine," he snapped. "But I want a car in ten minutes or he's dead!"

Shawn swayed on his feet and probably would have fallen over if it weren't for Leonard's arm around his neck. He blinked several times in what seemed like an attempt to quell the blackness that was eating at his vision. "Is it ten now? I thought we were at three."

Just then, Lassiter returned to his position next to Juliet. She looked over at him expectantly, momentarily tearing her complete attention from the scene in front of the building.

He leaned in near her ear to avoid letting Leonard see what he was saying. "McNab and Williams got through the back; apparently this guy didn't think to block that door."

She gave him a barely perceptible nod, keeping her eyes on the man with the gun. Before she could ask if Lassiter had a plan yet or if the other hostages were all right, movement inside the store caught her eye.

"Well?" Leonard nearly screamed. "When is that car getting here?"

"Soon," Lassiter bellowed back. "We'll get you a ride out of here soon. Look, why don't you just hand over your weapon and end this. You know you can't get far."

"Oh yeah?" the man shot back. "If you hold up the entire deal of not following me, I think I can." He was getting more and more agitated as the exchange went on, and he waved his gun hand for emphasis. "Now get me that car!"

This was just the opportunity for which the others had been waiting. As soon as the gun moved from being pointed at Shawn's head, Juliet mouthed 'duck'.

Shawn obeyed but, in typical Shawn fashion, went two steps further, knocking Leonard's arm away and diving to the side. The sudden move threw the other man off balance, and Shawn darted for the police line. However, he still seemed to be fighting dizziness and tripped over his own feet in his hurry.

Before Leonard could recover his balance enough to take a shot at his escaping hostage, the door of the store burst open and McNab rushed out, tackling the man and knocking the gun from his grasp.

As Lassiter strode over to where Leonard was being cuffed and read his rights, Juliet hurried towards Shawn, who was picking himself up off the ground. When he looked up at her, the pseudo psychic's grin was tainted with a grimace.

"Hey, Jules. Nice night, isn't it?"

"Shawn." She shook her head at him. "How's your arm?"

He ignored the question and stretched his neck to look past her. "How are Katie and Kelsey?"

Just then, Williams rounded the corner of the building with a woman and little girl. They must be the Katie and Kelsey to whom Shawn was referring, Juliet thought, judging from the look of relief that crossed Shawn's features.

He tilted forward, tottering on uneasy feet, and Juliet put a hand on his chest to keep him upright. "Shawn, sit down," she ordered. When he looked like he was going to object, she added a firm, "Now."

One of the officers had called for an ambulance, and its wail could now be heard down the street. In the meantime, Juliet knelt beside Shawn and turned her attention to his arm. The wound had stopped bleeding, but a few rivulets of blood still made their way down his arm from the soaked towels.

"How are you feeling?" she asked him.

"Fine," he said flatly. His eyes were squeezed shut, and his pained expression told her he was lying.

She crossed her arms and pulled out the voice she usually reserved for those holiday weekends when her nephews got too rowdy. "Shawn."

He blinked up at her. "Yes?"

"You've been shot in the arm ..." she trailed off as she caught sight of the bloody patch on the back of his head, "and the head? Shawn, what happened to your head?"

"Oh." He reached up to gingerly touch the gash. "I may have hit it on a shelf."

Juliet sighed. "Anything else that you forgot to tell me? And don't say you're fine, because I'm not buying it."

"But, Jules, I'm not trying to sell you anything," Shawn pouted. Wincing again, he put his hands to his head. "Ow. But you would buy something from me if I were, right? I mean, you have to admit that I'm at least as cute as one of those cookie-peddling Girl Scouts."

Before Juliet could reply, the ambulance screeched to a halt beside them. She moved back to give the paramedics room to work, ignoring Shawn's pleading look to rescue him from the inevitable hospital visit. Giving him an encouraging smile, she stepped away as soon as she found out to which hospital Shawn would be taken.

Pulling out her phone, she dialed Gus and then Henry as another ambulance arrived on the scene and the second team of paramedics rushed into the building. They soon came back out, rolling the cashier on a gurney.

Shawn's best friend and father would be meet Shawn at the hospital, and the detectives would stop by as soon as they finished their responsibilities at the scene. Juliet was fairly certain the doctors would only require Shawn to stay overnight for observation and release him the next day. After that ...

She shook her head and smiled to herself. After that, it was probably going to take a direct order from the chief, maybe more than once, to keep Shawn away until he had recovered enough to work again. Because if there was one thing Shawn Spencer was, it was persistent.

Her smile faded slightly as she watched the ambulance pull away. A little voice in her head, one that sounded suspiciously like Shawn, was pointing out, "See, psychos like this guy are why I didn't go into retail. I'd hate to be the clerk who has to clean up this mess."