Gus whirled around guiltily as Shawn entered the Psych office.

"Sweet Georgia peaches," gasped the latter. His eyes ran over the long flowing cape, which was topped with a collar that stood rigidly behind his friend's head.

"Shawn! What are you doing here?

"What are you wearing here?"

"It's none of your business."

"You are so absolutely right, and yet I can't help but wonder if the vet knows you're walking around without the other half of that collar."

"It's not a vet collar, Shawn. If you must know, I'm Ming the Merciless."

"Gus the Girl-less is more like it." He squinted. "What's on your face?"

"It's a mustache."

"Wow. Truly, wow. I had no idea you could grow hair that fast. I thought I inherited all the hair genes in this friendship."

"What are you doing here so early on a Saturday morning?"

Shawn headed for the cabinets. "I was all out of Corn Pops. Saturday morning cartoons weren't the same without them. Of course, Saturday morning cartoons haven't been the same since they stopped running that show with the Tasmanian Devils…what did they call that show?"

"Taz-mania."

"Ah, right. I would've gotten that, but it was way too obvious. Unlike, for instance, why you glued a fake mustache on your face and it's not even a cool one like Tom Selleck's in Magnum P.I."

"It's the Annual Santa Barbara Sci-Fi Symposium. I haven't gotten a chance to go for two years, because you've had us on cases. This year our schedule was free, so I'm going."

"You've been looking forward to this for two years and you're wearing that?" Gus rolled his eyes and Shawn threw up his hands in surrender. "Okay, okay. If you're so geeked out about this, why are you hanging around the office?"

"I'm waiting for someone."

"Oh, no. No-no-no-no-no. I am not coming with you to some lame sci-fi convention that would ruin my dating life forever."

"It's a symposium, not a convention. And it's not you."

"You better believe it's not me. I wouldn't be caught dead at…." He stopped in his tracks as Gus' words caught up with him. "It's not?"

"It's not you, Shawn. I do know other people."

"What other people?"

Gus busied himself straightening all the pens on his desk.

"Wait a minute. Is this a date?"

"No," his friend answered quickly, a look of panic crossing his face.

Shawn grinned. "I am so glad I'm here," he said, settling down at his desk. "Who would have thought that today would turn out to be the day I'd meet the future mother of my uber-geeky godchildren?"

"You're not…."

A knock on the door stopped Gus long enough for Shawn to jump in. "Going to be godfather?" he scoffed. "Please. Any offspring you have with whoever is coming in that door are going to need some serious coolness in their lives, and they are not about to get it from their parents."

The doorknob rattled, then a louder knock followed.

"Door's still locked to the outside," Shawn explained. Gus rolled his eyes and jumped up to answer it. "What's her name, anyway?" he called after him, then put his hands to his temples. "Never mind, I'll guess. Matilda. No, wait, Ernestine." He swiveled around in his chair and caught a glimpse of the person standing beside Gus in the doorway. "Juliet!"

Detective Juliet O'Hara was looking decidedly nothing like a detective. She was dressed like Lieutenant Uhura from the original Star Trek series, complete with red mini-skirted uniform, black leather boots, and bouffant hairstyle.

"Shawn!" she flushed and glanced nervously at Gus as Shawn leapt from his chair and flashed matching Vulcan hand gestures at her. "I didn't know you liked science fiction."

"He doesn't…"

"…doesn't ever get the opportunity to indulge this particular guilty pleasure," Shawn finished.

"Where's your costume?" she asked.

"Oh, that. I'm in costume."

"You are?"

"I am. I am...Captain Kirk on a voyage back in time to the 21st century. Traveling incognito."

Juliet shrugged skeptically. "Okay, well…I only have tickets for me and Gus, so you'll have to…"

"…Rock, Paper, Scissors for it," Shawn volunteered.

"…buy your ticket at the door," Juliet concluded at the same time.

"Don't worry about it, Juliet," said Gus, glaring at Shawn. "He's not coming."

Shawn gaped at Gus, then turned to Juliet with a big grin plastered a little unconvincingly on his face. "Jules, do you mind waiting for us outside?"

"No, but hurry up. George Takei is speaking in an hour and a half."

As soon as the door closed behind her, Shawn wheeled on Gus. "Traitor!"

"I'm not…."

"You are! You're a Traitor McTraitorPants!"

"Why, because I'm going to the symposium with…."

"…with Jules, who just happens to be my future girlfriend, remember? I totally called her."

"On the phone?"

"No, like shotgun. Me and her. I called it."

"You did not. And it's not a date."

"It better not be."

"It's not. She just called me last week because a friend of hers bailed on the symposium and she wondered if I was interested."

"She asked you out?"

"She had an extra ticket, Shawn."

Shawn pummeled the back of his chair in frustration. "'Extra ticket'? That's the oldest trick in the book, Gus!"

Gus' eyes widened. "Wait, you really think?"

"She asked you out."

A horn honked outside and the two looked over to see Juliet sitting in her lime-green Beetle, gesturing impatiently.

"Shawn, be cool. Maybe it's not what it looks like."

"What, Juliet calling you to go to a special event and you not wanting me to come? Oh, it is so on," he replied, rushing outside. "Shotgun!" He stuck his head back around the door. "You did just hear me call that, right?"

Shawn nearly leapt into the passenger seat of Juliet's car.

"Whoa," she said, startled. "I appreciate the rush, but…."

"No time to talk, Jules. George Tacky…"

"Takei."

"…that's what I said, George Takei is speaking imminently. If Gus can't wrap his mind around the urgency here, we might as well just leave him behind. Go ahead and floor it."

Gus, who had lagged behind in order to make sure the Psych office was locked up (and maybe also because the first time he closed the door he got his robe shut in it, but he was not about to tell anybody that), arrived at the car just in time to hear this. And to look thoroughly indignant.

"We kinda need him."

"You're not thinking clearly. This is George Takei we're talking about."

"And you know how to get to the convention center?" Gus asked curtly.

Shawn brought a hand to his head. "I can figure it out…psychically."

Juliet smiled, but shook her head. "Nice try, but I'm not chancing this one to the spirits. Backseat."

"Do we really have time for a make-out session right…no, on second thought, I agree with you. Gus? Some privacy, please?"

"You in the backseat, Shawn," Juliet clarified. "Alone. Navigator always gets shotgun."

"Is that in the official rules?"

"It's in my rules."

With as much drama as possible, Shawn got out of the Bug, pushed back the passenger seat, climbed into the back, and settled himself in. He noticed the smirk on Juliet's face and feared the worst. His own observational skills had failed him. He had never noticed before, but she must like Gus more than she liked him. "Navigator always gets shotgun," he muttered suspiciously.

The stiff collar on Gus' cape swung backward, causing Shawn to bend back so fast he almost hit his head on the Bug. He was glad they hadn't taken Gus' taller vehicle.

"Dude, I'm standing right here," he complained as Gus straightened, rubbing his back under the cape.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," came the snide response. "It's just that somebody was kicking my seat the whole way here."

"It's not my fault I have these long, athletic legs. You should have moved your seat up."

"I did. Repeatedly."

"Hm…."

By this time Juliet was a few hundred yards away at the elevator nearest their spot on the tenth floor of the parking garage. "Are you coming or not?" she called as she jammed the button impatiently.

Shawn sprinted over, with Gus fumbling along behind as best he could while trying to accomplish the mutually exclusive goals of running and yet looking impressive in his costume. "You've noticed my long, athletic legs, Jules, don't pretend you haven't," Shawn said as the elevator doors slid open.

Juliet stepped into the elevator and kept her eyes fixed straight ahead of her, off either of her companions but especially the one she hadn't expected to be there. "If you say one word about my legs, I will break yours."

"What? No, we're talking about my legs." He glanced down. "Although, now that you mention it…."

"I'm not kidding."

They travelled down the elevator shaft and sped across the street in relative silence that was only occasionally broken by Gus' mutterings against the cape that kept nearly tripping him up.

When they reached the ticket line just inside the conference center, Juliet and Gus shot twin pleading looks at Shawn.

"Meet us inside?" Juliet asked, a thin veneer of calm overlaying her obvious anxiety to find seats as soon as possible.

"I hate standing in lines alone."

"Then you shouldn't have come, Shawn," Gus retorted irritably.

"Oh, why, just because Jules didn't have two extra tickets?"

Gus hesitated. "Well, I did meet George Takei once already…."

"I'll try to save spots for you guys," Juliet said, and made a dash for the door.

"Look at her running in those high-heeled boots," Shawn said fondly. "She's so…I don't know. But I like it."

"You know I'm not really trying to horn in on Juliet, right?"

"First of all, I don't ever want you using the phrase 'horn in' ever again. Unless maybe you're talking about cattle ranching. Secondly…." Shawn stopped and looked at his friend, then sighed. "Yeah. I know."

"Good."

Shawn's eyebrows knit together in thought. "Cattle ranching? Doesn't that make it sound like the cattle run the ranch? What's the word I'm looking for there? Ranging?"

"No, it's ranching."

"You're sure."

"Positive. I used to watch Ponderosa."

"You're thinking of Bonanza. Ponderosa is the restaurant chain. Named after the ranch in Bonanza. Or is that the other way around?" Gus nudged him to indicate they had reached the front of the line, so Shawn fished out his wallet and paid for his ticket.

Shawn shook his head as they walked towards the doors to the main conference hall. "Look at all these people. Just about every single one of them is dressed up. You could have warned me I'd look like the strange one here."

"You're dressed up as Kirk, remember?" scoffed Gus.

"In a way, but…."

"Traveling incognito while on a voyage back in time?"

"Yeah, but…."

"All those times when we were kids and I'd put on old Star Trek reruns and you'd pretend to be doing your homework? I knew you were watching."

"I never watched."

"You did."

"Okay, so I watched." Shawn shrugged. "It may have been lame, but it was still better than algebra."

Gus grabbed Shawn's arm and stopped walking. "You can't say things like that here," he hissed. "Some of these alien weapons are really sharp."

Shawn brushed Gus' hand away and rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Kirk did have style, I'll…grudgingly admit."

"You mean his way with the ladies."

"No…I mean...his…way with words," Shawn said haltingly.

"That was horrible." Gus craned his neck as they entered the hall, looking for Juliet.

"Oh, come on."

"Worst Shatner impression I've ever heard. I can do a better Shatner. Anyone can do a better Shatner."

"And I've spent many hours being proud of that." Shawn raised a hand and waved in response to a signal from Juliet. "Of course, that was before I realized my future girlfriend would turn out to be a Trekkie. I might need remedial sessions to catch me up."

"Sure," said Gus, gathering his cape in as they edged past the people already seated in the row Juliet had found. "I have all the seasons of…."

"Preferably not from you."

"If it wasn't me, who would…. Ohhhhh."

At the same moment, they both realized that they had reached the two empty seats between them and Juliet, and that Gus had led the way into the aisle. At the same moment, Gus started walking backwards and Shawn started leaping forwards. It was a few similarly confused moments of stepping on each other's feet and smashing into each other's elbows later before they each fell into the seats they were aiming for.

"Hey, Jules," huffed Shawn, a little out of breath, settling into the chair next to her. "Thanks for saving seats."

"You're welcome."

"Wait, I'm sorry," he said casually. "Did you want to sit next to Gus?"

"No," she responded, then immediately became flustered. "I mean…I can see better from here. No tall people in my way."

"Yes, I can see that." Shawn glanced at the empty seat in front of Gus.

"It's better to sit behind a short person," Juliet continued hurriedly, "than to sit behind an empty seat, because what if there's a really tall person coming?"

"Or it could be a short person wearing a big hat."

"Exactly."

"A top hat…. A comically large sombrero…. What kind of hats do they wear at these conventions?"

"It's a symposium, actually," said Juliet.

"What, again?" Shawn looked at Gus, annoyed. "Will you please explain to me the difference between a convention and a symposium?"

"A convention is a meeting of a group of people who have stuff in common," said Gus. "A symposium is more like a series of lectures."

"So we sit in these chairs all day and listen to science fiction…lectures?"

"Mostly," said Juliet. She leaned forward across Shawn so suddenly that he plastered himself flat against the back of his chair in simple surprise. "I told you he'd hate it," she said to Gus, then straightened up again swiftly as the lights dimmed everywhere but over the podium.

"I don't," Shawn said, laughing politely. "Honestly, I don't." He swiveled swiftly to Gus and whispered, "Dude, sitting two inches from Jules for a whole day? Best Saturday ever. See if you can get her to talk to you more often, though. She totally smells like raspberries and when she leans across like that it's…."

"Sssshhhh!"

Shawn turned his attention to Juliet instead. "Just so we're on the same page, you didn't not invite me because you didn't want me here?"

"What?" she asked distractedly.

"I mean, it's okay that I busted in on your sort of date with Gus, right?"

"Date?" Juliet said, loud enough that everyone around them turned and glared at her. She looked sheepish and lowered her voice before responding, "It isn't…wasn't…there's no dating. I had an extra ticket."

"For real?"

"Of course."

"Well…why didn't you ask…."

"Shawn, please," she begged.

"Right," he said. "George Takei."

He grinned as he took in the transfixed expression on Juliet's face as she stared at the stage. His grin became rather bemused as he realized he'd seen that look before. Just not on her.

Turning to his right, he saw Gus, leaning forward and completely absorbed. "Oh, no," Shawn muttered incredulously. He looked from Gus to Juliet and back again. "They've got me surrounded."

"Sssshhhhh!" came whispers of matched levels of insistence from either side of him.

Shawn settled back into his chair and prepared to pay very close attention so he could participate in any future discussions that were based on this symposium.

Because maybe knowing about science fiction wouldn't ruin his dating life forever, after all.