"We're getting a divorce."

Shawn flashed out of the horrible memory as he stared down at the eight year old in the backseat. She was a tiny little thing, barely four feet with big, sad blue eyes and chocolate hair. In her arms was a plush light brown teddy bear.  She clutched it for dear life and stared out the window.

After Gus refused to help him baby-sit the poor kid he'd lent him the car, but Shawn didn't know where he was going. As a matter of fact, he didn't know why Jules had passed her along to him.

The word around the station was that two feuding parents were filing for divorce when someone stole the other's money. Until they could get it figured out Thalia, their eight year old daughter, would have to stay in police custody.

She hadn't spoken a word to anyone.

Shawn grimaced as he remembered when he was told of his parents' divorce. And all those sessions with the counselor... well, they did pretty much nothing to make him feel better. After all, sixteen was an age where no guy listened to authority figures, let alone a counselor who couldn't stop saying, "This isn't your fault, you know."

Not that he ever felt that way. But Shawn was the kind of person who thrived on speaking. Now, when he needed to say something before he went crazy, no words would come.

What do you say to a kid who's parents were splitting?

Nothing that was said to him, that was for sure. At the very least, this was different from his ordeal. Thalia was eight, and a girl. Both of those were huge factors in how she would deal with the situation.

Well, he had to say something. The silence was killing him. So, cautiously as he slowed for a red light, he said, "This isn't your fault. You know that, right?"

Thalia said nothing.

Shawn sighed. That was stupid. "I mean, what your parents do, that has nothing to do with you."

The kid turned her angry blue eyes on him. "So, what? They forgot about me? About how this would make me feel?"

Oh, dammit. "That's not what I meant--"

"No, of course not," she said, turning back towards the window. Her light, ringing voice sounded bitter and full of betrayal.

Shawn could feel where she was coming from. "You're taking this pretty well for an eight year old."

She snorted. "Months of practice."

"This has been going on for months?"

In the rearview mirror her jaw clenched. "They won't stop fighting. They're splitting everything up and leaving me for last. But they can't."

"I'm sorry," Shawn said, his voice quiet.

"Yeah," Thalia said, her shoulders slumping. "That's what they all say."

None of them spoke for a while. Shawn drove aimlessly, picking a destination and then changing his mind before he got there. No way was he going to his dad's--that was a given. The office would probably freak her out. Going to the station would remind the girl of what was happening and that wouldn't be good for anyone.

Finally he turned into a near by park. The field was bright green and hilly, a steep drop leading down to the playground where swings, a bridge, and slides were set up.

Thalia got out silently, still holding her teddy bear. Shawn tossed a casual look at it and smiled. Over the spot where its heart would be there was a dollar sign.

"So, cool teddy bear," he said.

The girl looked down at it like she was surprised she still had it. A blush crept up her cheeks. "Thanks. Her name is Cash."

Shawn smiled. "I love the name, then. Where'd you get it?"

She looked at him cautiously, and he put his hands up in surrender. "Look, I know when something has a story behind it. You're grabbing that thing like it's the last lifeline you got."

"Yeah," Thalia said quietly. "I guess it is." She cleared her throat. "When I was six I got stuck in an elevator. The cables snapped and me and my mom dropped a long ways."

"Wow," Shawn said, sympathetic.

She swallowed. "Yeah. It was scary. But Mom and I climbed out at the top of the elevator like in Toy Story 2 and when we got into another one that worked a lady gave me Cash and said I could get something free from the gift shop."

"Cool."

"Yeah," she grinned. Then it faded. "That was when Mom was taking me to visit Dad at work. He lived in the tallest building in Santa Barbara."

They walked for a while, not saying anything. When they got to the top of the hill Shawn took her hand and sat down. Compared to him, her body was less then half his height and probably could've fit in the crook of his arm if she'd folded her knees a bit.

"So this sucks," Shawn said, making polite conversation. "I hate situations like this."

Her mouth quirked in something like a frown. "I didn't even know what divorce meant. Mom had to explain it to me."

His eyebrows pulled together as he looked at her. "I thought you said you didn't think it was your fault."

Anger flashed across her face. "That's the only thing I feel guilty of. It's not mine, it's theirs, and--" she broke off and took a deep breath, turning her face away from Shawn.

"You know what's weird?" Thalia asked, her voice quiet now that she wasn't facing him anymore. "My dad keeps saying these weird things like it's Mom's fault they got a divorce. But then Mom told me that it's none of my business and that I shouldn't have to worry about things like that."

A frown tugged at Shawn's lips. He didn't like where this was going.

"And I don't know who to believe," she said. "Dad is... he wants me to call him every single night and when I forget sometimes, he gets mad. He says things like, "So you forgot you had a dad?" and "So I guess you don't need me then." And I do need him, a lot, but... sometimes I just want to cry!"

The words were coming out in a rush, and she turned hard onto her side, laying so she was facing Shawn again. Tears were starting to gather in her eyes, making them bluer then ever.

"And he'll talk about how he never got a second chance and that Mom was cruel to him and stupid things like that. And when I ask him not to talk about it he says, "Not talking about won't make it go away." And I know he's right but it just hurts so much, I can't listen to him! I'll run into my room and he'd leave me there for a while, but then he'll start it up when we're in the car and then I'd have to listen, because I can't leave. And I always end up crying then."

She stopped in her rant, panting a little bit, crying openly now. Tears ran down her face. On instinct, he reached down and hugged her.

As the sobs ceased to a minimum he whispered in her ear, "You know, I was a split kid once."

She pushed off against him, angry and violent. "So?" she challenged harshly.

"So," Shawn said, drawing out the word more then necessary. "It hurts. Trust me, I know. It sucked for me, too."

Her shoulders slumped again. She looked simply too exhausted to fight anymore. "What happened?"

"Well," he sighed, "my mom thought it was best that she continued her career... away from my dad. I lived with him most of the time, and Mom only showed up a couple of times before I graduated. It was hard. I had endless counseling sessions."

She quirked her lips in an almost-smile. "And how does that make you feel?"

"It makes me feel like I want you to shut up," Shawn said dramatically. Thalia giggled.

"That was sooooo annoying," she said. "They wanted me to draw what I was feeling with colors. Red was angry, blue was sad--"

"Yellow was guilty," Shawn added, "and green was jealous..."

They grinned at each other. And then the moment faded a bit, and Thalia sighed, rolling onto her back.

"Sometimes I worry about this," she said, her voice serious. "How am I supposed to grow up? Everybody else has parents that live in the same house. People say I'm lucky, I'll have two birthdays and two Christmases and two houses with two sets of best friends..."

"But you don't feel very lucky," Shawn said, noting from his own experiences. "Car rides back and forth makes you sick. You have to meet in a different place every day. And then, of course, your parents hate looking at each other."

"My dad already has a girlfriend," Thalia said, sounding disgusted. "She's really young and blonde and pretty--"

"That's not fair," Shawn scowled. "The divorce isn't even final yet."

Thalia sighed, sounding hopeless. "And they think of me like a piece of property. Everything else if split in half, doubled, or somehow made into two pieces--"

"Except for you," Shawn confirmed. "Yeah, I know how that is."

"We're moving, too," Thalia said, her hopelessness turning into misery. "Twice. The house is too expensive, apparently."

He looked at her, frowning. "I'm serious. You sound too old to be eight. More like, twenty or something."

She blushed. "I kind of grew up early. And I write. A lot. So, I have a big vocabulary."

"So that's how you coped, huh?" Shawn leaned back to look at the sky again. "Yeah. I kind of dove myself into pranks and stuff like that. It was kind of a trick to make people think I was okay."

"But you weren't, were you?" Thalia said, watching him. "Okay, I mean."

He stared up at the sky. "No. No, I wasn't."

They were silent like that for a long time, and then Shawn's cell phone rang. Thalia giggled at the strange ring tone and he grinned at her, touching the pad to answer.

"What's up, Gus? Yeah, sure. No way, really? That's awesome, man! Well, okay, not really. Sure. Meet you at the station then."

"Who was that?" she asked curiously.

"My partner in crime-fighting," he declared. "Come on, I know who stole your parents money."

Her eyebrows pushed together. "I still don't understand that."

"And you don't have to," he said, running down the steep hill to the electric blue car. "You're eight."

She smirked a bit and hopped into the back seat, clutching Cash to her chest. Shawn put the car into reverse and headed for the station.

Gus beat them there after getting a ride from Henry, and Shawn pulled up next to the two of them.

"Guys," he said, "I'd like you to meet Thalia." He gestured to the tiny eight year old as she got out of the car. She waved a little shyly. "Now, let's go solve a theftory."

"Thievery?" Thalia and Gus corrected at the same time. "And it's just theft, Shawn," Gus added.

"I've heard it both ways," he said dismissively, waltzing into the station.

Thalia eyed him. "Does he always do that?"

"He's surprisingly subtle today," Henry said, tilting his head to watch his son do his thing.

Gus shook his head and took Thalia by the hand, walking into the station.

"But neither of them are at fault!" Shawn was yelling, loud enough for everyone to hear.

Thalia's parents were by Lassiter's desk, staring at him like he'd lost his mind.

Shawn was in the middle of the room, shaking violently and throwing his body about the floor. He flopped like a fish, and then started to slowly rub his chest, his face, his sides.

"Christ, Spencer," Lassiter said, making a face. "What in the world are you doing? That's a little inappropriate!"

"No, Lassie," Shawn gasped, still on the floor. "What's inappropriate is that man!" Wildly his arm pointed towards a tall man standing agape by Lassiter's desk. Thalia's father.

"Who, me?" he said. "Never!"

"No, no, no, no..." Shawn chanted. "Not a man... woman!"

The woman across the desk, who looked a lot like Thalia, shook her head. "I'd never steal from myself," she declared.

"Not you," he said to her. "Connections, connections, connections..."

"What in the world?" Thalia's father muttered to Lassiter.

"He does this a lot," he said, his face in his hands. "Just go with it."

"Oh, that tickles," Shawn giggled a bit, before leaping. "Yes! It wasn't you, John," he said, pointing at Thalia's father. "But someone... someone who caused this divorce in the first place...?"

Thalia's eyes filled with tears once again.

John looked guiltily at his almost-ex-wife. "What, Montana?"

"That little wench," Thalia's mother said vehemently. "What was her name? Tori?"

"Dad's girlfriend," Thalia whispered.

"Yes," Shawn pounced. "She had this from the get-go. Seduce the husband, steal his money, and disappear. She's been gone for a while, hasn't she, John?"

"She said she went to Alaska..." John looked stricken.

"But she didn't," Shawn shrugged. He lifted a finger to his temple. "I'm sensing she's been doing this for a while, in places like New Mexico, Seattle, California, and yes, Montana. That's where you met her, wasn't it?"

"On a business trip," he confirmed.

Lassiter took charge. "McNab, put out an APB on this..." he glanced at a file. "Victoria Newman."

"Yes, sir," Buzz saluted and ran off to do so.

"Come on, Thalia," the mother said, still glaring at John. "We're leaving."

"But Mom," Thalia protested.

"No," she said sternly. "I don't want to waste another minute in this place."

Thalia pulled her hand out of her mother's grip. "You don't want!" she yelled. "You don't want! Have you even thought about what I want? You were just going to leave me like this? No! That's not fair!"

She ran out, leaving her mother speechless, and crashed into Shawn. "I just wanted to say thanks," she said, tears starting to stain his jeans.

Shawn knelt and, with a gentleness no one knew he had, hugged her tightly. "I'm never going to forget you," he promised. "This'll be hard, but if I'm anything to go by, it gets easier."

Thalia quirked another half smile and let go, walking out with her mother staring after her like she didn't know what to do.

"Take my advice," Shawn said to her, nodding towards the door, "and teach that kid well. One day she'll grow up to be amazing."

"'And not only that, but we also rejoice in our suffering,'" she said, quoting a familiar passage. "'For with suffering comes perserverence; perserverence, character; and character, hope.'"

"Romans, 5:3," Shawn nodded. "Yeah. Sounds about right."

She gave him a look and then hurried after her daughter.

Gus watched after her. "You never told me you read the Bible."

Shawn shrugged. "I didn't, but one of my girlfriends insisted."

With a touch of concern, Gus asked, "Will you be okay with this?"

He looked back at him with a twinkle in his eye. "Of course, Gus. What's the point of life if you can't live it?"

And with that befuddling comment in mind, he strolled out of the station, tossing Gus' keys in the air and catching them expertly. The sun shined and he knew, just like Thalia did, that things always got better.