NB: This is the very first thing I've ever written for any fandom. Hope you like it. FiccyFriday prompt from Rashaka on M/M that was "Jeff gets unwanted advice/prediction from a psychic. Funny or dramatic or both." I did tweak the prompt a bit; it's more of a psychic revealing something. Crossover with Psych.

Disclaimer: I own neither Community nor Psych nor the song Second Chance.

"This is nice," Annie says, leaning back into Jeff. The two are standing on the boardwalk looking out over the ocean. Jeff takes a deep breath of the salty ocean air and presses a kiss to the top of her head.

"It is. Stopping in Santa Barbara was a good idea." Annie closes her eyes and smiles.

"This vacation was a good idea. It's nice to get out of Greendale for a while," she says.

"That it is. Though I'm still not sure why everyone else had to come," Jeff responds, nodding towards their friends. Abed and Troy are a buying smoothies from the stand about 20 yards to their left, while Britta and Pierce peruse the gift shops on the street behind them. Shirley, meanwhile, is standing a little ways to the right, talking animatedly into her phone, presumably with Andre.

Annie laughs, and turns so she's facing him. "Oh, please. You know you're glad they're here. Besides," she continues, her voice becoming softer. "This may be the last time the seven of us get to do this."

Jeff sighs, happily. "That's fair. How are you feeling, by the way?"

"I'm fine," she says, looking up at him. "I'll just be glad when it's over."

Jeff chuckles, and gently rubs her stomach. "Good. Can't have you sick on vacation now, can we?" Annie smiles, leans up, and kisses him gently. His arms snake around her waist, while hers move up behind his head. He begins to deepen the kiss when-

"Must you guys do that everywhere we go?" they hear Britta ask. Breaking apart, they turn to face their friends, who have all gathered around them.

"Hey," says Jeff. "We were kind enough to invite you on our second honeymoon. Just because we're already in California doesn't mean we can't uninvite you."

"Second honeymoon?" says Troy. "Don't married couples usually wait until they have kids to go on a second honeymoon?"

"Annie and Jeff are breaking the cliché," answers Abed. "Good for them." He raises his smoothie as if he's toasting them before taking a long drink.

"More smoothies?" asks Britta. "Didn't you already have smoothie's this morning?"

"That was breakfast," answers Troy.

"It's 10AM!"

"Right, this is second breakfast," says Abed. Britta stares at them incredulously.

"I don't think she knows about second breakfast," says Troy.

"We brought enough for everyone," Abed says, holding up a travel container.

"Ooh, pineapple!" Shirley exclaims.

"Yeah, we figured that since we never get pineapple in Greendale, we have to get our fill here," Troy explains. They pass around the smoothies, everyone taking one except Jeff.

"I'll pass," he says. "Pineapple and I have an agreement."

"An agreement?" asks Abed.

"I don't eat it, and it doesn't try to prick me when I don't touch it."

"Jeff doesn't like pineapple," Annie says, rolling her eyes.

"Blasphemer!" They hear a voice shout from a ways away. They turn and see two men marching towards them. Well, one man marching towards them angrily, followed closely by another who looks very annoyed.

"What?" asks Jeff.

"Blasphemer. Picking on poor pineapples like that. They have feelings!" The angry man shouts.

"I'm sorry, who are you?" Jeff asks, still not entirely sure what's going on.

"My name is Shawn Spencer. That is my partner Ludwig van Neidermeyer. I am a psychic detective and a fan of delicious flavor. You, sir, have upended my honor!"

"It's 'offended', Shawn." Ludwig says.

"I've heard it both ways!"

"No you haven't."

"I can't do this with you right now."

"Ludwig?" Pierce asks. "I didn't know there were any black Germans."

"Pierce!" Annie admonishes. "I apologize for our friend. He means well, he's just…" she trails off.

"It's fine. I'm used to it from old, white people. My name's Gus, not Ludwig," says Gus. "Shawn!" he says, turning back to his friend who is now drinking Jeff's smoothie. "Did you just take that smoothie?"

"What? It's not like he was going to drink it. Pineapple hater," he says, glaring at Jeff.

"It's fine," says Jeff. "Like he says, I wasn't going to drink it. Besides, I like his hair." Shawn's glare instantly turns into a grin.

"Thanks. Yours is pretty awesome too. What product do you use?"

"Kangaroo paste."

Shawn's eyes nearly pop out of his head. "Seriously? That stuff's only available in Australia!"

"I know a guy," says Jeff as the rest of the group groans.

"Um, I'm sorry," Shirley interrupts, trying to get the conversation away from Jeff's vanity. "I though you said you were psychic? Like Miss Cleo?"

Shawn turns to her and smirks. "That's right. Best in the state of California, probably the world. Not like Miss Cleo, though. She's a hack."

Britta scoffs. "Oh, please. What, do the spirits talk to you?"

"As a matter of fact, they do."

"Uh huh," she replies, not convinced. "As a trained therapist, I can tell you that when someone hears voices in their head, it usually means they're crazy."

"'Usually?'" says Jeff. "You mean there are sane people who hear voices in their head?"

"Can it, forehead."

"I'm with Britta," says Shirley. "This 'psychic' stuff smells like the devil's work."

"Oh really?" challenges Shawn, raising one eyebrow at her. "Gus, hold this," he says, holding out his smoothie. Gus looks at the smoothie, then back to Shawn, without taking it. "Gus, don't be a Chinese chicken."

"I'll take it!" says Abed. "This is just like the Mentalist, except Shawn might be real. Cool. Cool, cool, cool." The instant the smoothie is out of Shawn's hand, he closes his eyes and begins to flail about.

"Ah! The spirits! They're shouting at me! Telling me something about cats. No wait, two cats! And a yard!" He spins around until he's in front of Shirley. "It's a house! A very nice house, at that." He opens his eyes and stares softly at her. "He wants you to have a good time," he says, voice barely above a whisper. "Enjoy the vacation, you've earned it. The house will still be standing when you get back."

"What! But… that's… I don't…" Shirley sputters, trying to ask how he knew exactly what she and Andre were talking about on the phone, but he's moved on.

"I'm seeing a gun, it's a small gun, and I can hear a song." He begins humming a few bars.

"'Second Chance', by .38 Special!" Annie shouts. Jeff raises an eyebrow at her. "What? My dad liked 80s music."

Shawn taps his nose and turns to face Troy. "She's still waiting for you," he says with a quick glance towards Britta. "But she won't wait forever." Troy looks over at the blonde, who is staring at the ground as her face takes on the color of a tomato.

"Ah!" Shawn shouts. "It's so bright! It's like the sun has fallen from the sky and is standing right here!" He twists and turns until he's in front of Annie. "I mean, how does it not bother the rest of you! Gus, where are my sunglasses? She is positively glowing!" Shawn opens his eyes, smiling. "Congratulations, mom and dad. When's the due date?"

Annie and Jeff both freeze. Neither seems to be able to talk; their mouths hanging open and eyes wide. "Um, guys?" asks Troy. "Why did he call you 'mom and dad'? Are you his parents? That doesn't seem very possible, considering he's probably older than Annie and the same age as Jeff. Unless you found a time machine! Did you guys find a time machine and not tell me? I thought we were friends!"

"Annie," Shirley starts, very slowly. "Are you-"

"April." Jeff says, cutting her off. "The due date is April 27th." He takes Annie's hand in his and presses a kiss to the back of it.

Annie smiles at him before turning back to the rest of the group. "I'm six weeks along," she says, tears of joy in her eyes. "Jeff and I are having a baby." There's a moment of silence. Then-

"Oh my lord, I'm so happy for you!" Shirley squeals, pulling them both into a big hug. It isn't long before everyone has joined in, laughing, crying, and giving their glad tidings to the soon-to-be parents.

"Gus, I believe my work here is done," says Shawn, turning to walk away.

"Admit it."

"No way, Shawn."

"Come on, Gus, you know I'm right."

"I don't care, Shawn. I've told you about a hundred times not to buy things on my credit card. You're returning those."

"But these earnoculers are awesome and totally help me hear things I shouldn't be able to hear, thus making me more psychic! They complete the charade! You can even write them off as a business expense!"

"Suck it, Shawn."

"Jerk chicken?"

"You know that's right."