Disclaimer: tapping on a microphone

Is this thing on?

sound of throat clearing

I don't own Psych

Not even a little bit.

You'd know if I did

Because canon, not fanon,

Would be Shawn/Juliet.

There was a discussion in the Psychfioc forum as to whether or not Karen knows the truth about Shawn. Someone suggested a missing scene should be written and my Muse took it as a personal challenge.

This is the result.

First in the Never Say Never series.

No pineapples were harmed in the writing of this fic.

A knock on the door distracted Karen from her paperwork and she looked up to see an old but welcome face in her doorway.

She smiled and stood, extending a hand when her visitor entered, shut the door behind him, and crossed the room to her desk.

"Henry, good to see you again."

"Karen," he acknowledged and looked around. "I'd heard you were bumped up the ladder, but chief?"

She grinned and waved at the seat behind him as she retook her own. "Interim. Chief Weston's retirement caught us all by surprise so no one was really prepared. I'm only here until the final decision is made because I'm senior to everyone but Panelli and he'll become Chief of Police over the mayor's dead body."

"As I remember you were a sharp cop. You're tough—enough to have survived two years as my partner—and you're smart." She smiled, feeling a faint blush creep up her cheeks at the praise. She remembered well how hard that was to come by and she chuckled inwardly to think her reaction hadn't changed.

"At least you were."

A twinge of annoyance flared at the way her heart sped up in anticipation of a reprimand. She hadn't been a green rookie under Henry Spencer's thumb for fifteen years now but that tone hadn't changed either—it was also something she remembered well.

But she kept her smile pasted firmly in place and said, "Excuse me?"

"You were a good cop and a better detective. I still keep in touch with some of the guys and your record is as shiny as a new copper penny. But maybe it's a good thing you're only Interim Chief. Maybe you're not cut out to be chief on a more permanent basis."

Escalating this into a fight wouldn't end well for anyone—least of all her since she'd most likely lose—so she bit back her first response and said instead, "Is there something in particular that has you doubting my abilities?" It was sharper than it really should have been, but she was only human and this was Henry Spencer she was dealing with.

"Oh I don't know," he drawled in that annoying way of his that said the exact opposite. "Maybe it's the fact that you're allowing a criminal to run loose—and in the police station no less—embarrassing you and giving cops everywhere a bad name."

That wasn't what she was expecting. She blinked as she tried to process what he'd said, but her brain couldn't quite figure out what he was talking about. That was another habit of his that she hated, these sneak attacks that left you confused and unable to snap back.

Finally she gave up and shook her head. "You're going to have to explain what you mean," she confessed. "What criminal am I allowing to 'run loose' in the station?"

"My son."

And suddenly the light bulb went on.

She allowed herself a small smile, but nothing more. She should have known the second he walked into her office that this would be the subject of conversation.

"He's not a criminal, Henry. He was brought in for questioning in relation to a case but he was cleared of any and all suspicion-"

"I'm not talking about that. I'm talking about this . . ." He waved his hands around his head and searched for the appropriately scathing term. Not finding one derisive enough he settled for inflection and continued, "'psychic' crap he's selling you."

Karen continued as though she hadn't been interrupted. "-While at the same time providing valuable information in another case. He was also very helpful in the McCallum investigation. Mr. McCallum would have gotten away with two murders if not for Shawn."

Henry ignored that—a fact that itself did not go unnoticed. "Karen, you know he's not psychic. How many stakeouts did you sit through where I bragged about that kid's sharp eye and photographic memory? He could be a great detective if he'd just stop wasting his life. But he won't be if you let him play you the way he does everyone else."

"I know he's not psychic."

"So why isn't he in a cell? He's defrauding your officers and he thinks he's defrauding you."

She put a hand up to stop him. "I let the first one slide because he wasn't guilty of the crime he was accused of and I didn't hear about it until after the fact. No harm was done and like I said he provided evidence for another case.

"I didn't want to make a big deal out of it and to be honest, I thought that when I came to him with the McCallum case and told him we'd prosecute if he was faking that he'd make up some excuse about not being able to control his 'gift' and get out of Dodge. When he didn't, I decided to let him take a stab at it. I'd take anything he had to give me into consideration but I wasn't going to take my guys off of it.

"No one was more surprised than me when he solved that case—one that my officers and I had already closed." She shrugged. "I decided that maybe he was worth keeping around."

"So you're just going to let him get away with this," he said. It wasn't a question.

Her eyes narrowed at his words. She hadn't expected capitulation quite so easily. "What is this really about?

He sat up and leaned forward and she could almost feel him trying to will her into understanding his side of this as he waved a hand angrily. "He's been sliding through life, Karen, getting away with everything because he's got a charming grin and a silver tongue. He's had fifty-seven jobs since high school. Fifty-seven. He's thirty and he still has no clue what he wants to do with his life so he's frittering it away.

"Don't let him keep doing this. You're not helping him. Arrest him. Maybe this time it will actually stick."

Karen shook her head. "I know he's not following in your footsteps exactly the way you imagined, but, Henry, he is using what you taught him. He has the observational skills that any cop worth his or her badge would love to have and a grasp of deductive reasoning that-"

"I never taught him to lie to the police," Henry cut her off sharply. "I taught him to work inside the system, not circumvent it."

"Okay, so he put his own twist on it," she conceded with a tilt of her head.

"Arrest him," Henry repeated. "You have a responsibility as chief of police-"

Her anger flared again and this time she didn't tamp it down.

"I know what my responsibilities are as Interim Chief of this department," she said in a tone that brooked no argument. "It's my call, Henry. I'm going to let him go with this for now," she added pointedly when he looked like he was going to try to argue with her anyway.

"He's not causing problems and he's helping. Shawn's ability to be charming and persuasive—and I hate to say it, but the fact that he's not a cop—makes him more personable. He can talk to people and get them to open up where my officers find only brick walls because they have a badge. Saying he's a psychic just gives him a legitimate reason to be involved as a civilian."

"'Legitimate reason'?" Henry repeated incredulously. "There's nothing legitimate about this and you're losing credibility by pandering to this. Have you seen the papers? I think you should arrest him-

"Noted," Karen said sternly, "but it's still not going to happen."

Henry gave her his legendary glare that set her back a decade and a half and had her fighting the urge to fidget. "I wasn't finished." She didn't say anything and he continued in that same low voice. "I think you should arrest him, but since you won't your next best choice is to cut him loose."

He sat back and crossed one arm over his chest, the other waving in the air. "He solved the case, he got a check and a handshake, now let it go. Don't call him back in and if he comes back, tell him you don't need him."

Karen waited a beat to be sure he was done this time, using the moment to consider her words. "I'm not disregarding your words out of hand," she started.

Henry sighed and rolled his eyes. "But you're not going to listen to me."

"I wasn't finished," she said, tossing his words back at him. She was slightly mollified by the grudging respect in his eyes at the jab. He waved for her to continue.

"I'm not disregarding your words, but . . . Henry, you didn't see him." Her voice changed to one of earnest pleading and just like when they were partners Henry found himself paying closer attention.

"I know what his track record is—I did a little checking into his background. I'm not stupid," she said when he gave her a look of incredulity. "I don't think this is like all those other jobs. When McCallum confessed and Shawn was proven right . . ." She struggled for a moment to find the words to explain what she'd seen. "He had this look in his eyes . . ."

She finally gave up and just said, "Henry, I think he might actually stick with this."

Henry snorted. "Yeah, I'll believe that when I see it."

Karen gave him a look of reprimand, then said in her best 'I'm the Chief' tone, "And if he doesn't . . . well, I'll take what I can get until he decides to move on."

"What are you going to do when he screws up or if someone else finds out he's faking?" Henry asked. He knew he wasn't going to win this battle right now but he had respect for Karen and he wanted to make sure she'd really thought this through. Shawn ruining his own life was bad enough. Henry was not about to let him ruin one of the best cops he'd ever known.

"How?" Karen shot back. She could almost smell the defeat coming and she was surprised at how much she was anticipating enjoying it. Although she had been on the losing side for two years plus the fifteen in between then and now so it was a long time coming. And that made it all the sweeter.

"How do you prove someone's not psychic?" she demanded, then shook her head. "You can't. I'm not going to say anything so one will ever know unless Shawn himself confesses and I don't think he's that stupid."

Henry snorted again. "That makes one of us then."

"I think you underestimate him," Karen countered.

Henry sighed. "I hope I do. For your sake. Like you said it's your responsibility and your call. I just hope you don't regret this."

"I don't think I will."

"So are you going to tell him you know?"

"I haven't decided," she said and leaned back in her chair. She could feel the buzz of triumph in her bones and thrumming through her blood, but she was professional enough to wait until she was alone before doing a victory dance, even if it was only a mental one in her current pregnant state.

"You've ignored all my other advice, but I'm going to cast one more your way: Don't tell him."

"But he'll think he's getting away with it," she pointed out, playing devil's advocate because she could. Victory had made her bolder apparently.

"Yeah, but maybe he'll also be just a little nervous. It'll keep him on his toes."

Karen was about to grin and say that she knew where Shawn got his devious streak when the door popped open and the young man in question burst into her office.

"There she is!"

"Don't ever walk into my office without knocking," she snapped, caught off guard and feeling a flash of guilt for having been talking about him and at the same time annoyance over it. It helped when Shawn looked a little taken aback, even if it was fleeting.

"I'm sorry," he said, with a less than completely sincere tone. "I got excited."

She wasn't about to let him go though—mostly because she knew Henry was right and Shawn was used to getting away with everything because of his charming personality. She would let him continue helping for as long as he retained interest but she wasn't stupid. He was like a puppy: you had to set down the rules from the start and train him properly or he'd run roughshod over you and you'd never be able to call him to heel again.

"You know what I'll do to you?" she said as she stood and rounded her desk.

"Yes."

"Oh, you do?" she challenged.

"I'm psychic," he said as if it were obvious.

She didn't quite manage to smother the smile at how quickly he recovered. "I'm just finishing up in here. I'll be with you in a moment."

He put his hands up and started to back out of the office when Henry made his presence known.

"That's all right, Karen. I've got to get going anyway."

"Thank you very much for coming down," she said and shook his hand. "You've been a big help."

He acknowledged Shawn as he passed the surprised young man in the doorway. "Son."

"Dad," Shawn answered, then looked back at Karen, his hands just now lowering.

She turned and headed for her desk, directing Shawn to take a seat.

"I was considering adding you to my speed dial, Mr. Spencer," she explained as he did so, "but I would be remiss if I didn't do a little background check. Don't you think?" She sat back and put her feet up, taking her mug of herbal tea with her as she settled in.

"Uhhh . . . yes?" Shawn said. He wasn't recovering from the shock of seeing his father as quickly as he had her little jab, but then she didn't expect him to. And Henry was right again, dang it. She could almost see Shawn's mind working on the possibility he'd been presented with.

What had his dad said? Was he about to be arrested? Should he confess and try to use that as a gesture of good intentions in the pleas bargaining or should he stick to his story and try to bluff it out?

"I asked your dad how long you've had the 'gift'," she informed him. Not entirely true but then she was sitting across from a man who was letting the Chief of Police believe he was a psychic. Two could play the game.

He looked down and she had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling. She had to admire his chutzpah. He was going to try to bluff it.

"Look, my father's memory is pretty cloudy."

"Oh, it certainly is," she said in agreement. "His recollection doesn't match up with your assertion at all."

"I can explain that."

Ooh, she was tempted to let him try . . . but she had other things to do that—while less fun than messing with a Spencer's head—were also more important.

"You said you've had this ability your whole life."

"Well," he started, "'whole life' . . . I mean it's a bit of a gray area-"

"He said you didn't get it until you were eighteen." She'd have to remember to let Henry know what he'd said later, but for now the look on Shawn's face was priceless.

"He said that?" Shawn finally asked, the moment of astonishment passing as he regathered his wits.

The kid should have gone into acting, she thought as she sipped her tea and worked at keeping her smile down to a bare curve of her lips. He'd have made a fortune with that face and his skills.

"Wow. Th- That is just like him," he continued with a hint of bitter anger that she knew was completely fake—but only because she knew him. "The man simply refuses to acknowledge my abilities, my gifts." She raised her eyebrows and he apparently decided that knowing when to quit was a virtue.

"Can we discuss my fee?"

Or not.

She couldn't help the laugh that escaped.

"There's a check in the cage," she informed him.

He gave her a questioning look and pointed at himself, then stood and started to hurry out, as though he had to get it before she changed her mind.

"Sign for it and then come back in," she said, stopping him in his tracks.

She was rewarded with another moment of panic chasing across his face.

"Come . . . come back in here?" he clarified.

"Mm-hmm."

"Why?"

She held up the folder that was the real reason she'd called him in here this morning before Henry made his appearance.

"You familiar with a chop shop in Summerland?"

He accepted it and then gave her a look that made her wonder if she really had done the right thing in not taking Henry's advice and cutting him loose.

Nah, she decided as he left to collect his check, already thumbing through the file, and she hid another grin behind her mug.

If nothing else it was bound to make her life and her job as Interim Chief more interesting. And, she could admit—if only to herself—that knowing it piqued Henry was a nice little bonus.

For that alone she could find the patience to deal with the younger Spencer's antics for quite some time.

And? So? Therefore? WHAT?

Review, please and thank you. :D