I reposted this chapter because I realized part of it somehow got deleted. It should make more sense now.

This is my first fanfiction. I've had this idea for a few years and finally managed to get it written down. It's a little rough in the beginning, but I promise it gets better.

This story takes place in Season 7 after Shawn and Jules move in but before Lassiter's wedding. It may contain spoilers to all seasons.

I have this story completely written and will be posting it one chapter a day.

Disclaimer: I do not own Psych, I'm just playing with it. I only own the original characters created for this story.

Santa Barbara, 1992

15 year old Shawn Spencer slouched in a chair outside the principal's office. His jean clad legs were stretched out, arms crossed over a Whitesnake t-shirt. His hazel eyes gazed around the outer office from under tousled brown hair. He saw the secretary fiddling with her wedding ring and noticed her red-rimmed eyes. He wondered if she was fighting with her husband again. Judging by the pile of tissues in the trash can, it must have been serious. He remembered her looking at a receipt the last time he had been called down here. It was for a midday meal for two people, paid in cash. It looked like she had finally confronted her husband about the affair.

He leaned his head back against the wall, listening for any sounds coming from the office. His father was in there right now, talking with the principal. He didn't see what the big deal was. No one had gotten hurt. And you could barely see the scorch marks.

"He did what?" his father yelled. Shawn sighed. He and Gus had been planning on crashing Stacey Cremer's party this weekend. It would have been a warmup for the big one next course his dad wouldn't have let him go anyway. His plan had been to sneak out after his parents went to bed. But now his dad would be keeping a closer watch on him, torpedoing that plan.

Henry Spencer exited the office, fuming. He was still dressed in his work attire of a suit and tie, holster visible through the open jacket. His face was red, the color reaching up his forehead and through his thinning blond hair. "Let's go, Shawn," he said sharply. Shawn levered himself out of the chair and followed the angry form of his father out the door.

The car ride home was tense and uncomfortable. Henry stayed silent until he had parked the car in the driveway. "What the hell were you thinking?" he asked furiously, turning to look at Shawn. "Someone could have gotten seriously hurt."

"But they didn't," Shawn countered. "It was only supposed to be a small reaction. And I had Gus double check everything. He said it would be fine."

"Don't blame Gus. You're smart enough to have known better," Henry said testily. "Your little stunt just got you suspended for a week." He got out of the car and bent back down to look at Shawn. "And grounded for a month."

"A month!?" Shawn gasped. Andrea Stohl's party was next Saturday. He had finally managed to score an invitation after weeks of persistent nagging. If he didn't show up, he was destined to be a social outcast for the rest of high school. He scrambled out of the car. "Dad, that's not fair! It was just a little prank."

"Life isn't fair," Henry said shortly. "It's about time you learned that." He turned and headed into the house.

"You're just trying to ruin my life," Shawn yelled after stood there angrily for a moment before following his dad inside. "Why can't you just leave me alone?"

"I'm your father," Henry said. "It's my job to make sure you turn into a responsible adult."

"Like you?" Shawn said scornfully. "Maybe I don't want to be a cop. Maybe I don't care that the secretary's husband is cheating on her. Maybe I just want to be a normal, irresponsible kid."

"You can't be a kid forever," his dad said. "You have to grow up sometime."

"Maybe I don't want to grow up," Shawn said petulantly. He ran up the stairs to his room, slamming the door behind him.

Santa Barbara, 2013

Monday

The morning light shone down on the city. Its warm glow illuminated the coastal streets and the string of buildings along the boardwalk. One building had an office at the end with green lettering on the window. The lettering spelled the word 'Psych.' Most people were at work, but a few were walking the beach, enjoying the beautiful weather. This peaceful setting was shattered by the sound of gunshots and screaming coming from the Psych office.

"Shawn!" Burton Guster, aka Gus, yelled as his character died for the ninth time. He was wearing gray slacks and a pink shirt that worked nicely with his cocoa brown skin tone. His shaved head gleamed as he turned to look at his friend. "We're on the same team. Could you please stop killing me!"

Shawn, best friend and said assassin, smirked. He looked much as he did in high school, still clad in jeans and a t-shirt. He had refined the carefully tousled look for his hair and his eyes sparkled with mischief. "Sorry dude, guess you just keep getting in the way. Besides, " he said with a positively evil grin, "you make it too easy." His grin faded as on screen his character exploded from a plasma grenade. "Dude, that is so not cool."

"You reap what you sow Shawn," Gus stated with a satisfied grin.

"Um, excuse me?"

The guys turned around. Standing behind them was a teenage girl wearing a blue t-shirt and whitewashed jeans with a hole in the left knee. She had long brunette hair held back in a pony tail, hazel eyes, and was looking at them in confusion.

"I'm looking for Shawn Spencer. The newspaper article said he works here. Am I in the right place? This is Psych, right?" She glanced around the office. A couch was situated under the front window. Two desks stood opposite each other. The one on the right was neat and organized. The one on the left was cluttered with junk. She looked back at the two guys sitting on another couch in front of a plasma screen, playing video games. Clearly nothing about the place said 'psychic detective' to her.

"You've come to the right place," Shawn said, standing up. On screen his character died in a bloody ambush by the opposing team. He winced but continued. "I am Shawn Spencer, psychic detective."

She gestured behind him at the television screen. "A psychic who plays Halo?"

"It happens to be very good for honing hand eye coordination skills," Gus said in defense. He got up and turned off the game.

"Plus my psychic ability allows me to 'see' where the enemy soldiers are before I run into them." Shawn started raising his hand to his head in his classic psychic gesture. Gus slapped his arm before he could complete it.

"Wouldn't Silent Scope be a better game for developing hand eye coordination?" the girl asked. She mimed shooting at imaginary targets in demonstration.

"Yes, but then I wouldn't get to team up with my best bud. Team work is an important part of any investigation," Shawn said seriously.

"They why do you keep killing me, Shawn?" Gus asked, disgruntled.

"To remind you to always be aware of your surroundings. Never take anyone at face value," he said with a smirk.

"Yeah, whatever Shawn." Gus muttered. He started putting the Xbox and games away.

"Well, video game discussions aside," the girl said, turning serious. She took a deep breath. "I need help finding someone."

Shawn and Gus exchanged a look. "If this is about a missing person, you should contact the police," Gus started.

"No! No police," she said vehemently. Shawn was a little taken aback by her statement. He glanced at Gus, who looked worriedly back at him. She continued on hurriedly. "I mean, I've heard about all the cases you've solved. Surely you're good enough to solve the case on your own." She gave him a challenging look.

Intrigued, Shawn said, "Why don't you sit down and tell us what you know?" He gestured to the couch by the window. As she sat down, Gus pulled him aside.

"I don't like this," Gus said, turning his back on the girl. He looked at Shawn seriously. "Did you see her reaction when I mentioned the police? I'm not getting mixed up in anything illegal, Shawn. Not again. Besides, shouldn't she be in school right now?"

"Gus, don't be a nervous Nelly," he said. He paused. "That's a weird phrase. Who is Nelly? Any relation to the rapper?" He grinned at Gus. "What a dilemma."

"Shawn, focus," Gus said, giving him a shove.

He sighed. "We'll at least hear her out," he said, not giving up. "Kids ditch school all the time. And maybe there's a perfectly innocent reason she doesn't want the police involved." Gus snorted doubtfully. "Besides, we haven't had a case in over two weeks. Or. . ." Hesmirked at Gus. "I can continue kicking your butt in Halo."

Gus glared at him for a moment. "Fine," he said finally. "But I'm going on record as being against this."

"Noted," he said, turning around. He pulled up a chair and sat opposite the girl. Gus followed and stood behind him. "As I said I'm Shawn Spencer. And this is my associate, the Doctor."

"Doctor who?" she asked, puzzled.

He turned to Gus, triumphant. "I told you I could get someone to say it."

"You don't even watch that show Shawn." Gus turned to the girl. "I'm Burton Guster," he said extending his hand. "Could you tell us your name?"

"My name is Nicole Peterson," she said, shaking his hand. "But everyone calls me Nikki."

"Well Nikki," Shawn said, turning back to the girl. "Who is it you are looking for?"

"Well, that's the thing," she said, looking a little embarrassed. "I'm not sure who exactly I'm looking for."

Shawn could feel Gus thinking 'I told you so.' "Can you tell us anything about them?" he asked. He was hoping she didn't want him to 'sense' who the missing person was. It was so much more work.

She sighed, looking down. "He's my dad," she said quietly.

He looked over at Gus. He shook his head no, but Shawn wasn't so sure. Something felt off. "Is your father missing?" he inquired.

"Not exactly," she said, looking up. He was startled by the sadness in her eyes. She blinked, and the look was gone, replaced by grim determination. "Look, it's really important that I find him."

He hesitated. This was looking more like a police matter by the minute. "I'm not sure this is really our type of case," he said uncertainly.

A look of resignation crossed her face. "I understand," she said quietly. She got up to leave.

"Wait!" he said. Gus was really going to kill him. But he couldn't ignore someone in need. And if she wasn't going to go to the police, that left it up to him to help her. "We'll need some more information to track him down." He wanted until Nikki was seated again. "When was the last time you saw him?"

She gave a short laugh. "That's the problem. I've never actually met him."

Gus nudged him. He ignored him. "Do you know his name?"

"Umm, no," she said, looking embarrassed. "My mom never mentioned him by name."

"How about what he looks like?" he asked, hoping for at least a vague description.

"No," she said again. She looked at him apologetically. "She only knew him for one night so there's not even any pictures of him."

"Do you know where he lives?" he asked, grasping at straws now.

"Sort of?" she said hesitantly.

He was relieved at this point for any information he could get. "Sort of is good. We can work with sort of."

"Well," she said, perking up now that she had something to share, "I know he was in Columbia, North Carolina in 1997. And I know he was originally from Santa Barbara."

"That's not much to go on," he said with a sigh. He looked at her carefully. "Have you tried asking your mother about him?" There must be a reason the mother was being so tight-lipped about her father.

"I haven't talked to her in two weeks," she said. "She would never tell me much about him." He thought he saw tears in her eyes. She blinked and cleared her throat ."But that shouldn't be a problem right? You're a psychic, I'm sure you've solved cases with less information." She looked at him hopefully.

"Um, Shawn?" said Gus. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

"Give me one second," he said, giving her a kind smile.

She nodded. "Take your time," she said, getting comfortable in the chair. "I'll wait." She grabbed a magazine and started leafing through it.

He walked a few steps away with Gus.

"Dude, something is not right here." Gus stated. "How are we supposed to find someone with no information? I think she's hiding something." He glanced over at Nikki. She noticed and waved. He turned back to Shawn and continued. "Whatever she's messed up in I want no part of. I say we forget she was ever here."

"But she is here," he said emphatically. He gave Gus a determined look. "She came to us for help and who are we to turn her away?" He pulled Gus back another couple of steps. "There's more going on than she's telling us," he continued quietly. "What if she's in real trouble? Besides, we don't have any other cases."

"Fine," said Gus, exasperated. "But you're on your own with this one." He walked over to his desk and sat down.

Shawn returned to Nikki. "We'll take the case," he said as he sat down.

She looked relieved. "Thank you." She hesitated, "I know you sometimes work for the police department. Can you promise you won't mention to anyone I asked for your help?" She looked up at him pleadingly.

He hesitated before answering. "Look, are you in some kind of trouble? Because we have a policy against helping criminals." Gus snorted at that. Shawn turned and gave him a look, clearly telling him to shut it.

"It's nothing like that," she answered hurriedly. "It's just I'm only 15 and I don't want any of this getting back to my mom." For a second, he thought he saw pain flicker over her face. Then it was gone and she laughed nervously. "She may have expressly forbidden me from looking for him."

Defying a parent, I can relate to that,he thought. "Okay Miss Peterson," he said, standing up. "We'll let you know when we have something." Behind him, the office phone began to ring. Gus answered it. "How can we contact you?"

"I'll just stop by tomorrow to see what you found out," she said, standing also. "Thank you again for agreeing to help me." She paused as she turned to leave. "And I don't think it's very sporting to kill your own teammate," she said, pointing to where the two had been playing Halo. She gave him a cheeky smile. "I would think a psychic would be able to outsmart his friend without resorting to violence." With that she left.

"What a strange girl," he said to himself. There was something about the way she looked when she smiled. It seemed familiar to him.

"That was the chief," Gus said, hanging up the phone. "We have a case."

"Two cases in one day? That's great. To the Blueberry!" he shouted, using the nickname for Gus's little blue Echo. He grabbed his jacket and headed for the door. "What is it this time? A murder? Buried treasure? Ooo, maybe we'll have to go undercover as ninjas to break up an international league of assassins." Nikki's case went to the back of his mind as he wondered what adventure the police department had for them this time.

Sighing, Gus followed Shawn out the door.

In the car, Gus filled Shawn in on what the chief had told him over the phone.

"It seems a chemist at UC Santa Barbara was found dead in his lab a couple of days ago," Gus said. "They suspect he died from toxic fumes produced by one of his experiments. It looks accidental, but since he's a prominent scientist, the chief wants your opinion."

"A chemist. Aren't those the people who turn lead into gold?" Shawn asked, getting excited. "Dude, do you think we can demand our fee in gold?"

"That's alchemy Shawn," he said. He could almost predict what Shawn would say next.

"Isn't that the study of fortunes based on stars?" Shawn asked, perplexed.

"No, that's astrology," he said. Next he'll go on about astronomy. Didn't we already do this with the planetarium case?

"Isn't that the study of stars?" Shawn asked. He could swear he saw Shawn hiding a grin.

"Chemistry is the study of matter," he stated, bringing an end to the argument. "This chemist was trying to create a new plastic polymer when he died. Apparently one of the beakers was mislabeled,"

"Was there a huge explosion? Was anything left of the lab? Oh, I bet there was only a shadow left on the wall in the shape of his body," Shawn said. He started bouncing in his seat like a little kid.

"Actually the chemicals created a toxic gas that knocked him out and killed him within minutes," he said. Besides him Shawn slumped down in the seat, deflated. Gus shook his head. "You need to grow up."

"Never!" Shawn stated emphatically.

He sighed and didn't say anything else.

Almost as soon as Shawn and Gus entered the police station, they ran into Juliet O'Hara. She was dressed in a pantsuit and her new short haircut added to an overall tougher appearance for the blond detective, which Shawn found incredibly attractive.

"Hey sweety," he said to his girlfriend. He pulled Juliet around the corner. Checking to make sure no one was looking, he gave her a quick kiss. "I missed you."

"Shawn, it's only been a couple of hours," she said. However, she looked pleased by the attention.

"Really? I could have sworn it was longer," he said, giving a long suffering sigh. He gave Juliet a despairing look. "The hours without you are just bleak and empty." He slumped as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders.

Gus snorted. Shawn shoved him, the weight of the world magically lifting.

"Well, as fun as it is to see you," she said, laughing, "I am working. Was there a point to this visit?"

"As a matter of fact there is," Shawn said. He puffed up his chest importantly. "It seems the chief needs our help on another case."

"That's great! What case?" she asked eagerly. He was about to respond when Carlton Lassiter's voiced echoed down the hallway.

"O'Hara! Where's that file?" Lassiter's voice was full of frustration as he called for his partner.

She winced. "I have to go. We'll talk later." She looked at him seriously. "Lassiter and I have a heavy caseload right now and he's been very grouchy today. Please try not to annoy him anymore."

"Anymore?" he asked, pouting. "But I haven't done anything yet." Annoying Lassiter was one of his favorite pastimes at the station.

"Just being here annoys him," she said. She hurried away, calling back over her shoulder, "Play nice Shawn."

He watched her leave, then turned to Gus. "Let's not keep the chief waiting," he said.

As they headed to the chief's office, he spied Lassiter sitting at his desk.

"Hey, you go on ahead, I'll catch up," he said, slipping behind a pillar.

"Shawn! Remember what Juliet said," Gus admonished him. He shushed him, watching Lassiter to see ifhe had heard their conversation. Gus sighed and headed into Chief Vick's office.

Shawn peeked around the pillar. Good, he thought, Lassiter didn't hear anything. He stealth-fully made his way to Lassiter's desk, ducking behind pillars, next to desks, and behind one particularly large cop. Finally he made it behind Lassiter. The 6'1'' detective had his lean frame hunched over his desk, reading a case file. He ran a hand through his salt and pepper hair, which lately had been showing more salt. He seemed completely focused on the file.

Shawn leaned in and stood silently behind Lassiter, breathing quietly. As he waited for the detective to notice him, he read the file Lassiter was reviewing over his shoulder.

Lassiter remained oblivious to his presence for a few moments. Then he seemed to realize someone was behind him. He turned around to come face to face with Shawn.

"Hiya Lassie" he whispered, grinning at the surprised look on Lassiter's face.

Lassiter jumped. "God dammit Spencer," he swore. "Do you know how incredibly annoying that is?" He turned back to the file he was working on. "I don't have time for your juvenile antics today," he continued.

"Yes I heard you have a big case load," Shawn said. He came around and sat on the edge of Lassiter's desk. He put his hand to his head, closed his eyes, and started waving his arm about. He recalled the details from the file Lassiter was working on. Judging by his notes, Lassiter expected the brother. The quick glance Shawn had of the file told him this wasn't the case. "Including one involving domestic violence and a dead husband." He frowned, as if concentrating. "I'm also sensing the brother is a dead end," he said, opening his eyes.

"Enough Spencer," Lassiter growled as Shawn almost hit him in the head. Shawn could almost see the steam coming out of his ears. Lassiter tugged a folder out from under him, almost unseating him from the desk. "Don't you think it's about time you grew up?"

"Man, why is everyone telling me that today?" he asked. He ducked off the desk as Lassiter tried to swat him with the folder.

"Mr. Spencer," said Chief Karen Vick, coming out of her office. She was an older woman of small stature. But the force of her presence overcame any obstacle her height now, she looked annoyed. "My office. Now." She headed back inside.

"Run along Spencer and let the big boys do some real work," Lassiter said with a smirk.

Shawn started to walk away. "By the way," he said over his shoulder. "I'm sensing the neighbor did it. He seems very concerned with the wife's well-being." There were several domestic disturbance calls made by the neighbor. He had tried, unsuccessful, and on several occasions, to convince the wife to file a charges against her husband. He also was home alone during the time of the attack. He stopped out of eyesight to see what happened.

"Son of a bitch, he's right," Lassiter cursed. "O'Hara," he said, as his partner joined him. "Call the neighbor in again for questioning." He ran a hand over his face, sighing.

Shawn smiled and entered the chief's office. "Chief, what is happening?" He saw Gus, seated in a chair in front of the chief's desk, roll his eyes.

"Sit down Mr. Spencer," the chief said sternly. She glared at Shawn. "I'd appreciate it if you conducted yourself with some dignity while in my station. And stop interfering with my detectives while they are working."

"I don't call it interference when I do their work for them," he said with a grin, taking a seat next to Gus. He leaned over towards him. "Maybe if we ask real nicely, she'll let Lassie come out and play," he said in a loud whisper.

"Mr. Spencer you may want to think about acting in a more mature manner," Vick said, her annoyance peaking. "We are not in the business of hiring juveniles to work on cases."

Shawn winced. He knew he had pushed the chief a little too far this time. "That hurt, chief. But I will try to take your advice under advisement." He tried to look more mature.

"See that you do," Vick said with a sigh. She handed over a case file to Gus. He perused it quickly, then passed it along to Shawn. "The victim is Jeffrey Sanders, 45, a chemistry professor at UC Santa Barbara. He was found dead in his laboratory Saturday night. ME says cause of death was asphyxiation. We suspect he inhaled toxic fumes from one of his experiments. We're waiting on lab results to confirm. CSI said a couple of the beakers were mislabeled. I'm inclined to rule it an accidental death but since he's a prominent scientist I wanted you to take a look first." She looked at Shawn expectantly.

He glanced through the file. Ignoring the written statements for now, he focused on the crime scene photos. There was Sanders, dead on the floor, his experiment still set up on the table. There were several shots of the lab, which was extremely neat and organized. Nearly every item in the lab had a little white label attached to it. Another shot showed the table top where the experiment took place. Shawn squinted at the bottles. A couple of the beakers had labels that seemed slightly askew and wrinkled. The labels on everything else in the lab were perfectly straight and smooth.

Shawn shut the file. He closed his eyes and held his hand over it, as if trying to sense what happened. "I'm getting something," he said, eyes still closed. "I'm seeing letters, letters and numbers." He started waving his hand through the air as if writing something. "H20, H2SO4, NaCl," he said, recalling that the labels for the last two chemicals had seemed off. He wrote out each set of letters as he said them.

Gus, knowing he had discovered something, spoke up, "Those are all common laboratory chemicals."

"Yes," he said, opening his eyes and pointing to Gus. "I'm also seeing little white bits of paper. Like name tags if you will. But there's something wrong with them. The tag says Cindy. She's a fun girl, gets along well with others. A party girl, if you will." He gave the chief a knowing look, not able to help himself. Her nostrils flared angrily, so he hurriedly continued. "But wait," he said, looking bewildered. "This isn't Cindy. It's Tony. And Tony has a temper. He's a bit, explosive, if you will," He started acting as if someone was trying to stab him. "No Tony, don't kill me." He wrestled with his imaginary opponent, falling to the floor.

"What does all this mean Mr. Spencer?" Vick asked, cutting short the performance.

He pretended to snap out of vision. He got up and collapsed into the chair beside Gus.

"Check the bottles that were mislabeled," he said, a little out of breath. These acts were more tiring than they used to be. "I have a very strong feeling our victim did not label those bottles himself. This wasn't an accident." He leaned in, and said dramatically, "This was murder."

Vick eyed him silently for several moments. "I'll have someone check on those bottles," she said finally. "If we find signs of tampering, I'll put you on the case."

"Great," he said, clapping his hands together. He stood up. "We'll be awaiting your call. Come on Gus." He turned to leave.

"Mr. Spencer," Vick called after him. "Remember what we discussed."

"Of course Chief," he said, heading out the door.

"Mr. Guster?" she asked, turning to Gus.

"I'll try to get him to act in a more mature manner," he said with dignity. He nodded to the chief and quickly headed out after Shawn.

"Let's go watch Lassie pretend I didn't solve his case for him," were the first words out of Shawn's mouth.

"How about we do what the Chief said and leave Lassiter alone," Gus said seriously. "We can't afford to loose any cases because you can't behave. We have a rent to pay and an electric bill due next week. Let's just head back to the office and start researching the Sanders guy." He gave Shawn a stern look.

Shawn wilted under Gus's gaze. "Aw man, you're no fun." Nevertheless, he followed Gus out of the police station incident free. He kept quiet until they got the the car. "Gus," he asked, trying to sound innocent.

"Yes Shawn?" Gus answered, his voice wary.

"Would it be too immature to hit a smoothie place before getting to work?" he asked, struggling to keep up the innocent act.

Gus considered this. "Well, I suppose not," he said, unlocking the car and getting inside.

"Great!" he said, getting in. "There's this new smoothie place on State Street that makes pineapple smoothies with pineapple shaped sprinkles. Imagine Gus, pineapple shaped sprinkles." His eyes sparkled with excitement.

Gus sighed. "Like working with a five year old," he muttered. Shawn pretended not to hear him.

Later that night, Shawn and Juliet were cleaning up after dinner. Shawn was still surprised how easily he and Juliet were able to fit into each other's lives. Even cleaning up went smoothly, neither person getting in the other's way, as if it was a choreographed dance. They had a rule against discussing work over dinner, so this was the first chance he had to talk to Juliet about the cases.

"So Jules," he said, rinsing the last plate, "were you able to get a confession out of the neighbor?"

She was putting the leftovers away. She turned to him in surprise. "How did you know about that case?"

He gave her a knowing look. "I'm a psychic Jules, remember?" He brought his hand to his head. "I'm also sensing Lassie wasn't pleased about the confession." He looked to her for confirmation as he started drying the dishes.

She shook her head. "I am still amazed by what you can do sometimes." She crossed behind him and grabbed a second towel. As she reached for a plate, she continued. "As a matter of fact he did confess. And Carlton did seem rather upset over it. Which is surprising considering how much he wanted to put this case to bed." Beside her, he hid a smile, glad that his hunch had been correct. "He was even more upset when the chief gave us the Sanders case," she continued. She looked over at Shawn. "Apparently our resident psychic had a vision it was murder."

The chief had called a couple of hours after he left the station. Most of the bottles only showed a single set of fingerprints, matching the victim. However, the mislabeled bottles also showed a second, unknown set of prints, causing the chief to believe he was right and someone tampered with those bottles.

He put the last plate away and turned to Juliet. "I can't help what the spirit world decides to tell me. They had information to share about the Sanders case and who am I to ignore that?" He gave her helpless look.

She just rolled her eyes. "I'm just glad you're on the case," she said, leading the way into the living room. "It means we get to work together." They sat on the couch next to each other. As he reached for the remote, she said, "Besides, you haven't had any cases in over two weeks."

"Yeah, it has been rather slow lately," he agreed, turning on the TV. He started flipping through channels, looking for something good to watch. "It seems things are picking up again. We even got a case this morning at Psych."

"Really?" she asked, looking interested. "What about?"

He paused on a cop drama. After a few seconds he said, "It was the landlord," and continued flipping channels. To Juliet, he said, "A girl came in wanting us to find out who her birth father is. Seems her mother is very tight lipped about him and won't tell her who he is. She thought a psychic might be able to track him down. Ooo, Jaws." He stopped flipping channels as he came across the classic film.

Juliet frowned. "That doesn't seem like a case you would typically take," she said slowly. "What did Gus have to say about it?"

He snorted. "What do you think? He was against it. Especially since she's only 15 and I don't think she can pay us."

"Then why did you take the case?" she asked quizzically.

He sighed, fiddling with the remote. "There was just something about her," he said, not able to meet Juliet's eyes. "She was clearly very upset about something, though she hid it well. And finding her father seemed very important to her. I figured I should at least see what I can find. I just couldn't turn her away." He could feel himself blushing slightly from embarrassment.

Juliet surprised him by leaning over and giving him a kiss. He looked at her in confusion when she pulled away. "What was that for?"

"For agreeing to help her," she said, looking him in the eyes. "For being the kind of man who would help a complete stranger because it was the right thing to do." She blushed slightly, looking away.

They watched the movie silently for a few moments. "Jules" he said quietly. She turned to look at him. He could feel the tension building between them. "I. . ." He cleared his throat. "Thanks," he said lamely.

She leaned in closer. "No problem," she said before pressing her lips against his.

He fumbled with the remote, turning the TV off. Throwing it on the table, he pulled Juliet closer to him, leaning into the kiss. He cupped her face with his hand, fingers curling in her hair. She responded by straddling him, pushing him back into the couch. She nipped playfully at his bottom lip before leaving a trail of kisses down the side of his neck. "I'll have to take hopeless cases more often," he panted. "Especially if this is how you're going to respond." He gasped as Juliet bit his earlobe.

"No more talking," she purred in a sultry voice into his ear. She ran her hands down his chest as she kissed him again, delving her tongue into his mouth. His tongue curled around hers as he ran his fingers through her hair. Breaking the kiss, she grasped the edges of his shirt and lifted it over his head. She ran her hands lightly over the smooth planes of his chest, tweaking his nipples. He groaned, pulling her down into another kiss. One hand snaked under her own shirt, reaching up to cup a breast. She moaned into his mouth.

"Bedroom?" he asked breathlessly. She nodded, giving his lip one last nip before standing up. She gave him a seductive look before sauntering out of the room towards the bedroom. He took a second to catch his breath before rising up off the couch and following her. He closed the bedroom door behind him.

Let me know what you think.