Hi! so, this is my first story that I have published, so any and all reviews and suggestions are welcome. Thanks, and enjoy!

Ch.1

"Alright. Hurry up." Junior detective Juliet O'Hara snapped her cell phone shut and glanced up at the man standing next to her. "Backup is on the way, Shawn. They'll be here soon."

"C'mon, Jules! Do we have to wait? Backup will take too long; our guy could be long gone by then! We gotta act now!" Shawn whined at his companion. "Lets jump in, grab the bad guy, and have him all ready when Lassie gets here! Don't tell me you don't want to see the look on his face when you prove that we don't need him as desperately as he thinks." Seeing the doubtful expression on her face, he added, "The guy isn't that dangerous, anyways. Its not like he's a murderer or anything, just a little thief. Nothing we can't handle." He flexed his arm dramatically to prove his point.

"Well, I guess it couldn't hurt to check out the situation first…" she allowed. "And if we happen to see the robber, then I suppose we could probably grab him without too much trouble."

Shawn's face split into a wide grin, and he immediately bounced over to the door of the old car shop. Juliet followed him, smiling at his energy.

The pair crept into the dim space, Juliet's gun drawn and ready and Shawn clutching a large stick.

"Put that down" she hissed. "You look ridiculous."

"Jules, for you your information, the stick has been the weapon of choice for thousands of highly skilled warrior since the beginning of civilization." Behind him, he heard a small squeak and a click. "Jules?" Shawn turned, and his heart nearly stopped. The man they had been chasing was standing there, his muscular arm wrapped around Juliet and over her mouth. His other hand gripped her gun, the muzzle pressed to her head and his finger on the trigger.

"Alright, boy. Do as I tell you, and I wont have to hurt her." His voice was deep and scratchy, and it snapped Shawn out of his shocked state. He immediately glanced over the man, reading as much as could as quickly as possible. His clothes were dingy, so he had been on the run, and most likely had just gotten back to his headquarters here. His eyes here wide and wild. He was desperate, and there was no doubt that if he had to he would shoot the blonde detective. But before he could get anything else, the thief began ordering him around.

"Drop your… weapon, and get on your knees, head down, hands up. NOW!" Shawn obeyed after a moment, with one last glance at Juliet's wide eyes.

"Alright, if you say so." His mouth, like always, seemed to start talking of its own accord. "But are you really sure you want to so this? The police are on their way, and murder does have much higher consequences than armed robbery." At the word 'murder', Juliet tensed up, resulting in a bit of pressure on her head with the gun.

"Who said anything about murder? I was thinking more along the lines of a hostage situation." And with that, he shoved Jules to the concrete and deftly pulled her hands behind her back, while transferring the tip of the gun to the small of her back. "Come here, you. And don't think about trying anything, or I'll shoot your pretty friend. The psychic slowly stood and walked over to him. "Grab the rag out of my pocket. Slowly." He did so, pulling the slightly damp cloth out of the pocket and holding it out. Releasing her hands for a second, the man grabbed it, reached forward, and pressed it over Juliet's mouth and nose. She went limp within seconds and the man stood up, transferring the target of the gun to Shawn and leaving the cloth on the floor in front of her face. Chloroform, he immediately realized.

"Who are you?" he demanded.

"My name is Shawn Spencer, and I am the head psychic for the SBPD. That lovely lady right there is Detective O'Hara, also of the SBPD."

"O.K then psychic. You are going to do exactly as you're told, or else you are going to dramatically decrease your chances of getting out of this in one piece, clear?"

"As crystal!" he chirped back.

"Get me that chair." He gestured to a folding chair propped up a few feet away. "And shut up." He added as Shawn opened his mouth to make a smart remark. Shawn opened the chair next to the unconscious Juliet and looked expectantly up at the man.

"Put her in it, now. Then get back on your knees with your hands behind your head." Slightly surprised, the psychic leaned over and gently scooped up Juliet, placing her in the chair and carefully pushing a stray lock of hair away form her face. He then resumed his position on the floor several feet away, closely watching the man holding the gun. Without taking his eyes off Shawn, he walked over to the chair while pulling a length of rope from his coat pocket, and with one hand bound her small wrists together. He knew what he was doing, because those knots looked well made. Shawn began to wonder if theft was really all this man was involved in. The rest of the rope was wrapped around her stomach and pulled tight, the end tied to her wrists. If she struggled, the rope would tighten.

Juliet was starting to wake up, now that she was away from the rag. She groaned as her head spun and a migraine settled in behind her eyes. Her slow awakening was suddenly skipped over, and she was jolted to relative alertness by the feeling of a gun being pushed into her neck. Besides the gun, she immediately noticed that her arms were bound, and that she had been tied to a chair.

"What the hell…" she murmured before she was cut off by a harsh voice.

"Hello, Detective. Listen up. You and your friend here are in some serious danger, and the only way you are going to survive the next few minutes is if you do exactly what I tell you to. Understand?"

One glance at Shawn, crouched on the floor, told her that they really were in deep. She did the only smart thing to do in that situation, and nodded.

"You are now going to call your backup, and tell them that is was a false alarm and that they can return to the station. If they are not convinced, I'll shoot the psychic. You will then give them a reason that you and Shawn here will not be returning to work today. Ready?"

Juliet's mind was racing frantically for a way out of this, but she was drawing a blank. "O.K." she eventually agreed in a shaky voice.

"Better get yourself under control. Who's coming that I should call?"

"Carlton Lassiter. Its on my contacts." She had absolutely no idea shy she was telling him this, but she thought it might have something to do with the aftereffects of the drug.

"Alright… and ringing." Their captor held the phone to her ear and after a few moments she heard the familiar voice of her partner, the sound of sirens in the background.

"O'Hara?"

Making sure her voice was not shaking, Juliet answered, " Yeah. Sorry, but it was a false alarm. Shawn's trail went cold, and we lost him. We may be able to find him, but there's no point in coming here. Pure chance that we caught up to him at this location. "

"Leave it to Spencer to waste everybody's time." He grumbled. She could hear the faint sounds of him giving orders in the background, shouting and venting his annoyance on the world in general.

"Oh, and Carlton?"

"Yes?"

"I, um... Don't think I'm going to be able to come back to work today. Or Shawn. Could you tell the chief for me? Please?"

"Why?" he asked, suddenly louder. "Are you all right?"

Juliet laughed, almost nervously. "No, we're fine. Its just, he asked me to dinner, and I didn't want to say no… he looked so sad. And a bit scared." She put a slight emphasis on the word scared.

"If you're sure that's all it is… then I suppose I'll see you at work tomorrow, O'Hara." He still sounded slightly apprehensive, but he bought it.

"O.K." she whispered as the phone snapped shut.

She looked up to see if she had passed inspection, but the only thing she saw was a clenched fist coming at her fast before the world went black.