This is the prolog to a completed 6 chapter story. I will publish on chapter each Friday for the next few weeks in an attempt to drive off the horrible anxious anticipation for the 4th season of Psych in August. Comments and reviews are always appreciated.

This story occurs after "An Evening with Mr. Yang," though I don't believe there are any spoilers for that, or any other episode. The characters are not mine. They belong to whomever they do (in the age of mass media conglomerates, I'm not even going to pretend to know who holds the copyright.) I'm not making any money—and so on and so fourth.

Please enjoy.

Prolog

Juliet looked stunning. Though this "small" family wedding included eight bridesmaids, most of them single. Shawn barely noticed any of them.

He did notice that the seventh groomsman had an earbud in on ear and was obviously listening to the UCSB game. He also noticed that the step-mother of the groom was only pretending to cry, while the great-aunt of the bride was crying in earnest. He also noticed that the best man was checking-out the third bridesmaid, while she was checking out the minister—who happened to be a woman. Shawn looked forward to seeing how that played out at the reception. But, mostly, he noticed Juliet.

The bride had been kind enough to let each of her eight bridesmaids choose their own cotton-candy pink dress—which was fortunate because the maid-of-honor looked anorexic, the fifth bridesmaid had a figure like a cotton ball and the eighth bridesmatron (if wedding rings could be trusted) seemed to be 10 months pregnant. Most of the women had found a cut that suited them tolerably--with the exception of the second bridesmaid who, though clearly in her thirties, had chosen a tight, short, shiny dress designed for 16-year-olds--but the color suited no one, except for Juliet.

Her floor length strapless gown was cut close to her body, but the loose fabric (chiffon, Shawn guessed, but it may have been some sort of silk blend) rippled in the warm wind blowing off the mountains. And, particularly strong breezes played with the slit, exposing her right leg and silver strapy sandals, while the soft curls of her blond hair danced around her face. Shawn thought she was beautiful when she wore wrinkly pants suits and sloppy buns. Today, 'beautiful' wasn't a strong enough word to describe her.

At the end of the wedding, the groom kissed the bride. People clapped and cheered, and Juliet walked down the isle with groomsman number six. The small lapel pin on his tux indicated that he was the groom's frat brother, the faint smell of whiskey, mingled with Jules' soft floral perfume indicated that the celebration had started with the bridal party a while ago. So, when he met his date in the reception line, he was not at all surprised to see her smile melt as their eyes met.

"It was a lovely wedding, Jules," he told her with his usual feigned sincerity. "I found the lighting of the unity candle particularly moving. When I heard the first notes of A Whole New World, my eyes just teared up."

As usual, she ignored most of what he said. "Thank you so much for coming. I hope you don't mind, but I told Tim that you were my boyfriend—and that you were a cop—and that you were a back-belt in Karate."

"Well, I am a master at Pat Morita trivia, so I guess that's close enough. Did you know that he had an episode of Spungebob Squarepants dedicated to him?"

She offered him her classic "what the hell are you talking about" expression, with the wide eyes and the slightly open mouth. Shawn found it adorable.

"Which one is Tim?" he asked, glancing at the groom's men around him. "The one with the Pinocchio-like nose, or the one with the wrestler's neck?"

"The tall one," Juliet said, shivering in disgust.

"So you told him I was staying with you—excellent, I'll just have to run out and get a toothbrush."

"No," Juliet protested. "I told him my boyfriend had to work tomorrow, so we were going home early."

"So, not only am I a cop, but I'm a cop who can't get the weekends off," Shawn whined. "Am I really that boring in your fantasies?"

"Excuse me," said high-crackling voice from behind Shawn.

"I'm talking to my girl-friend here," Shawn said, turning to address the short, old woman, but hoping Tim would hear.

"You're holding up the line."

"Am I?" Shawn asked, glancing at the row of annoyed people behind him. "I apologize. Of course, you'll all want to speak to Juliet, she is so charming." With that he leaned forward, stole a kiss before Juliet could think to protest, and quickly moved up the bridal party. When he reached the bride, he didn't kiss her cheek, as he usually did at weddings. He could still taste Juliet's strawberry lip gloss, and he didn't want to ruin it.