Disclaimer: Unfortunately I do not own Psych, or any of the Psych characters, or really anything worth mentioning. No copy write infringement intended.

Dedication: For Aakira who has always been there to lend her support and to Social Escort who will always be the Gus to my Shawn. My eternal thanks for all you do.

Author's Notes: Thanks to all of you who never gave up on me and stuck around patiently waiting for the next chapter. I'm sorry it has taken so long to arrive, but I couldn't have done without your kind words and persistence.

Chapter 7

Juliet walked inside the dimly lit restaurant and looked around.

"Welcome to Shenanigans, home of the world famous Blarney Stone Fajitas!" a voice with a faux Irish accent boomed from behind the hostess stand. "How can I help you?"

Juliet paused for a second, unsure of where her next note was hiding. "I'm not exactly sure," she answered, her eyes scanning the room for a clue. They paused for moment on the reservation book sitting on the stand as an idea formed in her head, "Do you have a reservation for Spencer?"

The host gave her a polite smile and answered, "I certainly do, Mrs. Spencer, right this way."

She was about to correct him, but was surprised to realize just how much she liked the sound of that. Mrs. Spencer. It had such a wonderful ring to it.

'Ring indeed,' she thought, snapping back to reality and rubbing her fingers over the bare skin of her naked ring finger. She hadn't exactly earned that title yet, and who knew if she ever would, but for now she would savor every moment of it.

"Here's your table, Mrs. Spencer," the gentleman said as he pulled out a chair and gestured for her to take a seat. "I hope you enjoy your evening."

"Thanks." She sat at an all too familiar table and watched the not-quite-Irishman head towards what she presumed was the kitchen. Or an office. A tiny smirk tugged at the corners of her mouth as her eyes wandered around the room. The walls were still covered with tacky green shamrocks and leprechauns, just as they had been years ago when she first came here. Her mind began to wander as she thought back to that very special night.

The bell sounded, indicating the end of one speed date and the beginning of the next. A wave of relief hit her as the unimpressive man in front of her left the table to assault another woman with his garlic breath. Just because she was undercover didn't mean it was any easier to deal with all of the boring conversation and cheesy pickup lines, especially when she was trying to work a case. Just when her last nerve was nearly frayed, she found herself sitting across from Shawn. It had been somewhat of a relief to see a set of familiar eyes staring at her, and she knew this 'date' would undoubtedly end with smiles, but that was the problem. She was working, he was her coworker, and even though the butterflies in her stomach tried to convince her otherwise, this wasn't a real date.

"Look at us. A couple of kids on a proper date, hah. Got some goose bumps?" he asked her, one of those grins on his face. If she hadn't known any better, she would have thought he was serious.

"Shawn, this isn't a date. It's work," she said, doing her best to cover up her nervousness.

"You are absolutely right. But hey, you still got six minutes to ask me anything you want. So what do you want to know? What are you dying to know about Shawn Spencer, the man?"

"Oddly enough, I don't think I have anything I'm dying to know," she answered coolly, though in a reality a million and one questions flooded her mind.

"Jules, don't lie, because lying is unbecoming. I'll go first. You, me, Burgess Meredith, Hume Cronyn and Nipsey Russell on a deserted island. Who are you going to sleep with?"

"Wait, so it's you or a bunch of dead guys?"

"Fair. I'll give you Scatman Crothers."

"Dead."

"Flip Wilson?"

"Also dead."

"Donald Pleasance?"

"None of the above."

"None of the above? Jules, are you kidding me? You..." The bell signaling the end of their speed date sounded, interrupting Shawn mid-sentence.

"You're going to miss me, aren't you? A little bit? Have fun on your next date. But I want you to think about that, okay? Like, if that really happened?"

"Bye, Shawn."

"Mrs. Spencer?" a voice asked, snapping her back to reality.

"Yes?" She looked up to see a scrawny looking waiter in front of her, tray in hand.

"This is for you," he said, placing a beer and a note in front of her, "compliments of Mr. Spencer."

"Thanks you." She idly watched him walk away, savoring the moment. She took a sip of her ice cold beer and set about reading the letter.

Hey Jules! Or should I say Mrs. Spencer?

I may have inadvertently led the fine people at Shenanigans to believe that you are my wife. I didn't mean to. You know me, Jules, I'm as honest as they come, all sweet and innocent and such (imagine me giving you my sad puppy dog eyes here, because, well, I'm not currently there do it and we both know there's no resisting my puppy dog eyes). Anyway, they may have jumped to the conclusion that you're my wife and I may have forgotten to correct them. But hey, you can't blame a guy for dreaming, now can you? So I guess what I'm saying is bask in the glory of being married to such a fine specimen of a man while you can. No, wait, I think maybe that should have been the other way around, and I'm the truly lucky one. I've heard it both ways.

Anyway, back to the task at hand. You're probably wondering why I brought you here. I mean, yes, I guess this is the site of our first date, even if it did only last a few minutes, but that's really besides the point because we both now you don't really count it as such. The truth is there's something I need to confess. I lied to you that night. I know we've discussed how lying to each other is completely unacceptable, which is one of the reasons I'm coming clean to you now. You remember how we both took a certain compatibility test and how we both blew said test out of the water with the highest score they had ever seen?

Juliet put the note down for a moment and let her mind wander back to that same night.

Shawn was sitting at a nearby table, chatting up an attractive blonde, when Juliet finally got up the courage to interrupt. She took a moment to collect herself, not wanting the jealousy she was feeling to be so overtly visible, and finally approached the couple. "Excuse me. Sorry, can I cut in?" she asked.

Shawn glanced up at her, slightly confused, and looked back at the blonde.

"This is my parole officer," he told her.

"Oh, okay, sure," the blonde answered as she grabbed her things. Shawn apologized to her as she left and shot Juliet a 'what's going on?' type of look.

"Sorry," she said, slipping into the now-vacant seat across from him.

"Where did you-?" Shawn started, looking around the room. "I thought you, I thought you were on a date?"

"I was," she explained. "It's over."

"Over?" he asked. "Over like 'he laid one on you on the porch and you got little butterflies' over, or over like 'you pretended you had a headache and called it quits early' over?"

"Not that it's any of your business, but he can't bowl and that's a deal breaker."

"I see," he said, almost under his breath. She could almost swear she saw a look of relief in his eyes. She wondered for moment what he was thinking but pushed ahead.

"Okay, the only reason I sat down is because I wanted to clear something up. I don't take any stock in those profile matching things we did the other night."

He chuckled for a moment, "Jules, I was just messing around. I copied your card over your shoulder, like, verbatim. What, you thought maybe I sew my own pajamas?"

"Right. Okay, good, because, um, I don't want there to be any weirdness between us and it seems like we're going to be working with each other a lot."

"All the time."

She took a deep breath, not entirely sure if this was a memory she wanted to reminisce about. It had always been a bittersweet moment that neither of them had ever really brought up. Knowing he must have reason for finally rehashing it, she picked up the letter and continued.

I know you said you don't hold much stock in those sorts of tests, and to be honest, neither do I, really, but there must be something to them, Jules, 'cause you and I are, and always have been, the perfect match. What I'm trying to tell you is that, regardless of what I might have said, that score was completely, totally, unequivocally legitimate. I know I told you I cheated and copied your answers, but Jules, I didn't. I only told you that because I was scared out of my mind. Up until I met you I was a free spirit. I dated when I felt like it, had fun and had absolutely no intention whatsoever of ever settling down. Then you came along, and we had this immediate chemistry and the universe seemed to be pointing to the fact that we were meant to be together and it scared me, Jules. It scared me because you weren't some girl I wanted to have fun with for one night and leave behind. Even then, I knew if we ever got together it was going to be something serious and that notion scared the pineapple out of me. I guess I just wasn't ready to settle down yet, or to acknowledge that I could even be happy with one woman for an extended period of time. I couldn't even admit to myself how I felt, let alone admit it to you. I didn't even think I had it in me to be anybody's boyfriend, much less yours, and I didn't want to hurt you or screw up the friendship we were starting to build. To be honest, I didn't think you were ready to go there either, so I did the only thing I could to let us both off the hook. I lied. I hope you can forgive me, 'cause hey, I think you can see I've come a long since then. Eventually I realized I was ready for this, and here we are. I want to remind you, though, Jules, that one thing has never changed. You are still my perfect match.

Okay, I've managed to distract Serious Shawn for the time being with an oh-so-tempting pineapple smoothie. I think I may deserve to be rewarded for my bravery and quick thinking in getting him out of the way so we can have some time to ourselves. Remember that when we get home. I'm sure there's something you can do to thank me. I'm thinking maybe perhaps we can come up with a better use for those handcuffs of yours? In the meantime, sit back and enjoy your beer. You've worked hard today solving all of my clues and you deserve it. You're almost to the end and, believe me, it'll be well worth the journey. Which brings me to your next clue. Sometimes, in order to get to the end you have to go back to the beginning. Just make sure this time you don't steal my seat.

Your loving husband (at least until you finish that beer),

Shawn

Juliet took a sip of her beer, mentally savoring every one of his words. This had been one hell of a day so far. She had learned more about the man she had fallen in love with then she had in all the years they'd been together, and she loved him all the more for it. She couldn't wait to see what he had up his sleeve next.