You were a fairly new detective at the SBPD.
You had only been there three months.
In that time, you had grown close to Shawn Spencer, the resident psychic.
It seemed he always knew where you would be and took it upon himself to show up.
He was always flirting with you.
Gus and Lassiter made it a habit to stop him when he did.
Juliette found it adorable.
Yesterday, you had taken on a case that he had protested about.
"You can't, Y/N. This is really dangerous. I'm sensing some really dark energy," Shawn had said.
You laughed it off.
"Shawn, I can't reject a case personally assigned to me by the Chief, just because you feel something bad," you had responded.
The case was just to find a pattern between multiple recent disappearances.
You studied the missing people's persona profiles before taking the case home.
You spent your night pouring over the case itself.
That's when the idea hit you.
All of them were males who had disappeared at a gas station, after heading to the restroom.
You logged onto the SBPD database from your computer.
You searched for cases dealing with the same M.O. .
You were met with 5 cases every year for the past 11 years in different states, starting in New Jersey and making it all the way to Santa Barbara.
You called the Chief.
You were met with her voicemail.
"Chief, it's Detective Y/L/N. I found the connection. Meet me at my place as soon as you-," you were abruptly cut off by the sound of glass shattering.
Someone was breaking into your apartment.
"Someone just broke into my apartment. Chief, we aren't dealing with disappearances, we're dealing with a serial killer," you rushed as you heard the sound of heavy footsteps, "I'm sorry."
You hung up and grabbed your gun.
You hid behind a wall in wait.
A man dressed all in black entered and you aimed at the back of his head.
"Freeze!" you ordered.
The man turned to you.
"Don't move!" you ordered.
"I'm sorry, but you can't tell anyone my secret," he spoke, spraying something in your face.
You coughed and dropped your service weapon.
You purposefully knocked everything over around the room, feeling drowsy.
You knew he was going to kidnap you.
You also knew that when Juliette stopped by in the morning to pick you up for work and heard no answer, that she would bust in and see the mess.
You fell into a deep sleep, straight into your attacker's arms.
That's how you ended up where you were, tied to a chair.
You were seated at a desk.
"Good morning," you heard.
You looked up to see your attacker.
You flashed back to the past two days you had been kept here.
"Okay, enough with your games. When are you finally going to kill me?" you asked.
The serial killer you had discovered had taken you.
Shawn had been right about the case.
If you lived to see him again, you would definitely listen to him more in the future.
From your experiences, the man pictured you as a doll.
He treated you like you weren't real, only when he needed you to be.
He did everything for you, your outfits, your hair, your makeup.
But this didn't explain what he did to his male victims.
You hadn't seen a single missing person since you had arrived.
"When you ask the question," he answered.
That had surprised you.
He usually never responded, going on with his own conversation.
"They always ask the question," he explained, "And you just did. Now it's time for me to say goodbye."
By asking about his intentions, he had deemed you unworthy of sharing in his fantasy.
He was going to kill you.
The man was sluggish at first, but shocked you when he was suddenly behind you and holding a knife to your throat.
You yelped.
"Say goodnight," he whispered softly.
You closed your eyes.
You suddenly heard a large slam and the pounding of feet.
The room was flooded with SBPD.
You took a breath of relief as your attacker dropped the knife and ran, only to be caught by another officer.
Shawn ran through the crowd and untied you.
You hugged him immediately.
"I am so freaking sorry I didn't listen to you," you apologized.
"It doesn't matter now, let's just get you out of here," he said, kissing the top of your head.
Shawn suddenly lifted you up and held you close to his chest, carrying you out of the building.
"When did you get so strong?" you asked.
"You make me strong," Shawn spoke.
He carried you to an ambulance.
You gripped his hand tightly.
"Please don't leave," you asked.
"I'm never leaving you again," he said.
You smiled at him.
He pressed a sweet and gentle kiss to your lips.
"I've been waiting a long time to do that," he admitted.
"Why'd you wait?" you asked.
"You're too good for me," he said quietly, sitting next to you.
"Shawn, are you kidding me? You're perfect," you said, hugging him.
Shawn signed and kissed the side of your head.
"I love you too much to lose you again," he whispered.
"I love you, too, Shawn," you laughed slightly.
An EMT approached to check you out.
You intently watched his movements.
"Seriously though, you're never getting rid of me," Shawn said, moving your intertwined hands to his lap, "I already moved in."
"I'm sorry, you did what?" you asked, snapping your attention to him.
"We should get a dog. You know, make it official," he continued.
"Shawn, I can't tell if you're joking or not," you said.
"So that's a no on the dog idea?" Shawn questioned.
"Shawn!"
