I was/am not in the military. Just a quick waver there. Also Shawn's unit is a figment of my imagination, as far as I know. I don't own Psych, but all the other characters are mine.

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Peters, Casters'Island

"Sergeant Spencer, Colonel Drear will see you now." A corporal in a Class A uniform told the tired man in ACUs. The young sergeant nodded and walked into the office of his CO.

"Ah, Sergeant Spencer. Glad you got my message." Drear stood with a smile. "There's..."

"Someone here to see me, sir." Spencer cut him off, seeing the man in the chair, facing the colonel's desk.

"Yes there is, Sergeant. This is Captain Roman Crowe. He leads a team of the Heaven Hounds, Special Forces."

"What can I do for you, sir?" Spencer asked standing at attention as the captain stood up and turned around, a smirk on his face.

My bus finally stopped at the station in Santa Barbara, my home town. It's been a while, but it still feels, smells, and looks the same. That says a lot when you have senses and the memory that I have.

Just in case you couldn't tell from my little 3rd person flashback there, my name is Spencer, Shawn Spencer. And it's been more than a vacation since I've been home. Try seven years.

I could have called my dad or my best friend in the entire world for a ride instead of taking a long walk with my army duffel that held my entire life. But hell, why not, right? It was a nice day and I'd had a lot worse walks.

That would have been a fun call, too. Calling up old Henry Spencer after not talking to him for a whole year. 'Hey Dad, yeah I'm still alive. Can I get a ride and crash at your place?' I'd sleep on a bed of porcupines first, thank you.

If there's one thing I hate, it's pity favors. I'll take hand outs, I don't care. I won't take pity favors, and I hate "owing" people. I left because I was tired of being controlled, and for some reason I thought joining the military would change that... I've been through hell and now it's time to play, damn it!

So I made the 10 mile walk, feeling like Dwayne Johnson in "Walking Tall" but without that annoying-ass sheriff with that stupid beard. Was he like, Icelandic or something? I mean really.

Anyway... my first objective was food and a place to hang my hat. Food came first and I had plenty of old stomping grounds to choose from. My favorite diner, Fat Slim's... yes I know the name doesn't make any sense... was my first pick. Can't beat breakfast all the time, right?

I took my old favorite stool from my youth and plopped down. Before I sat I could still see my initials I'd carved in there years ago. That was the first grounding thing in my head that screamed "you're home".

Pineapple juice and a big plate of chocolate chip pancakes. At 7:00 pm, what could be better?

As I enjoyed my brinner(breakfast dinner, for those of you who may lack my culture and knowledge), I decided I should try to get back into my surroundings. I figured a newspaper would be a good start. Being off the radar for seven years will leave your knowledge circle about as fulfilling as Nicholas Cage's acting career.

After I got my paper and went back into the diner, I stopped. There was some blonde chick sitting in MY chair! Who does that? Half full juice and a crawly snake easily marking my territory.

"Yeah, um miss?" I said a bit rudely, actually, "you're kind of in my chair."

"Oh?" she asked in a sweet, questioning voice.

I almost lost the nerve to fight for my chair, her voice and hotness catching me temporarily off guard. I fought for my country, chair's in my country so... I FOUGHT FOR THAT CHAIR! "Yeah, that is my chair. That's my juice and my crawly snake, which I have some unfinished business with. Unless you think you're up for the challenge of finishing it."

"Well in that case, I'm sorry, Mr..." the little cutie trailed off, probably fishing for a name.

"Shawn, call me Shawn." I smiled, taking the seat next to her but taking my stuff back. I studied this girl for a moment. She looked almost out of place. She was young, probably about 24... 25ish off a glance. Only four or five younger than me. No ring, no friends or boyfriend to be seen. Oddly fidgety like a bird that had PTSD from a cat attack and was always watching its back.

"Juliet," she said with a smile and went back to her paper. I was practically new in town, just like I figured she was from the signs I got off her. Signs like the picture of her parents in the top of her purse. She's probably been homesick and looking at them a lot. I decided to drink up my juice and get out of there.

"Have a good day Juliet. I hope you find town to your liking." I gave her my best smile, paid for my food and her drink, and was on my way.

I found myself at an unfamiliar building called Central Coast Pharmaceuticals. Gus had always been smart, but I never saw him becoming a pill shaman.

After a quick phone call involving his poor great uncle Bocephus, he was down and outside like a great cocoa blur. "Shawn, holy shit! Is that really you?" Gus blurted out, coming at me with an unmanly hug. It's been seven years since I've seen him. I had to hug him back no matter how awkward it was.

"It's me buddy, and I'm here to stay," I said, waiting for him to let me out of his suffocating, death trap of a hug.

"Are you living with your dad? Do you have a place, or..." Gus was offering me a place to stay I'm pretty sure. I figured he would.

"Yeah, I'm good, Gus. I got a place today. Talked to a guy today, signed the papers today, moved in today..."

"Damn son, that's fast!" Gus smiled. I'm thinking he was just happy to see me back and taking responsibility. I didn't exactly do a hell of a lot of that last time around... "My landlord is an old vet, so he was happy to sign me up as quick as he could.

The next day was like my life had never skipped a beat. Gus had the day off, so we christened my new crib with video games. Poor Gus didn't stand a chance at COD. We consumed more food and beer than I'm willing to tell you we had. Life was entertaining and I just needed a job. I didn't want another dumbass dish washing or shelf stocking job. But when you're just shy of 30 and out of the army by just two years, good luck.

After I had sobered up, and Gus a little bit, we decided a snack was in high order. My cupboards were sadly dry, however.

I hopped on my bike that I had taken back from my dad's garage while he slept last night, and told Gus I'd meet him at the store. Sure I could have gone with him, but I missed my bike too damn much not to ride it.

Yellow tape on the side of the road caught my eye, instinct telling me to pull over. I was never one to stop at an accident before I left home, but five years in the army will change your character, or mine, anyway.

I saw Gus pulling up behind me, getting out with a pissed off look. Frankly, I didn't give a shit. I was seeing what had happened.

"Hey, who the hell are you?" Some taller older dude said, pulling off his shades like he was David Caruso from CSI Miami.

"My name is Shawn Spencer, and I'm a mammal that cares," I introduced myself. "And this is my friend Gus, a slightly cooler blooded mammal that cares as well."

"Unless you have one of these," he said holding up a badge, "I don't care who you are." I've known this guy for all of one minute, and he's already an ass.

"What happened here?" I asked, still liking to know whether he planned on being a dick or not.

"If I tell you, will you leave?" Tall dark and rude asked, a hopeful look on his face.

"Possibly. Your chances are higher if there's a juice box involved." I really didn't feel like putting up with his shit, so I gave him some of mine.

He rolled his eyes and sighed. "Simple drowning. Victim loses control of the vehicle and takes the last dive."

"Mind if I take a look at the body?" I pressed my luck.

"I thought you were going to leave if I told you!" Man was it easy to piss this guy off. I would definitely keep that in mind.

"And I said maybe if there was a juice box involved. Now seeing the body would also get me to leave." I smiled at him, hoping to win him over.

"I've already told you more than protocol allows, Mr. Spencer. "There's no way your getting under this tape."

"What if I go over?"

"Shawn, let's get out of here." Gus pressed, taking the detective's side.

"Listen to your little friend, Mr. Spencer." This guy was starting to piss me off, I tell you.

If he wasn't going to let me down there, I was going to have to do what I could from behind the tape, maybe earn my way down. No skid marks anywhere. The brakes weren't working. Something did catch my eye though. "Well detective, are you going to blame faulty overseas engineering, or do you have an idea who murdered your victim?"

"Lassiter, can you come look at this for a second? We found a note in the victim's palm." It was that sweet voiced hottie from the diner... Juliet. "Shawn? Why are you here?" She seemed to be quite surprised by my appearance. Another bonus, she remembered my name.

"Oh, I was just telling Detective Lassiter here that your victim in the car over there was actually murdered."

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Short chapter, I know. But this just is an opening chapter. Things will get better!

And remember, nothing makes me write faster than good reviews!