"Having a barbeque, Spencer?" called a man across the fence of Henry's beach-side house.

Henry called back, "My son's bringing his new girlfriend." He laughed slightly. "Should be interesting."

It was a hot, Summer, Santa Barbara day. Henry was dressed in beige shorts and a Hawaiian shirt, flipping burgers on his grill. The sizzling noise mixed with the sound of the ocean, and the grass was damp on Henry's sandaled feet.

Frank, his next door neighbor, was leaning over the fence. "Linds' and I are heading over to that home show across town," he said, reaching up and adjusting his sunglasses.

Henry shook his head. "Doesn't matter how many pamphlets you pick up, Frank, your craftsmanship still gonna be second best."

Frank laughed and gave him a wave, leaving to join his wife in their car.

Henry sighed. He imagined that walking through hallways of kitchen sets and wood swatches would be a more rewarding experience than meeting Shawn's new girlfriend. He didn't want to typecast her before even meeting her, but, perhaps with the exception of Abigail, Henry could always predict exactly what kind of girl Shawn would end up with: Someone pretty, but who he was essentially incompatible with. That, or someone with some glaring flaw that lead them to pick Shawn as their mate. Not to mention that this girl would probably last an even shorter time than his past girlfriends.

Henry's mind drifted to the blonde detective. Honestly, she was probably too good for Shawn, but he knew his son wouldn't really be happy until it was her pretending to think Henry's fish decorations "really tied the room together."

And he saw the way she looked at him. Like every time she looked at him she was drowning and bizarre 80s references were what kept her afloat. Like she didn't have to worry about danger in the field because he could predict the answer to every case, and even if he didn't, at least he always says something to make her feel okay.

But even with his excellent case record, he seemingly hadn't cracked the one of how to ask her out. Stupid kid. They'd had that weird conversation before he went after Despereaux, but that was weeks ago. As far as Henry knew, nothing had come of it. Juliet had a rich, handsome boyfriend, and Shawn had whoever Henry would suffer through dinner with tonight.

Granted, at least this time he'd get to meet her without a stolen car being involved.

Henry flipped the burgers over. He checked his watch. They should be here in about ten minutes.

"Shawn we're gonna be late," laughed Juliet, fixing her hair in the mirror. She turned to where he was sitting with his phone pointed at her. "Why are you even filming me anyway?"

"Jules, I'm not filming you, I'm filming the foundation. My dad finds out we're dating, it's gonna be hilarious. And this way I'm going to be able to hold it over his head forever." He added, "Besides, I need to learn how to edit together videos for this case."

"The fact that the victim was going to a film festival doesn't mean you should enter, Shawn."

"Someone needs to take home that prize. That dude's murder could be the best thing that ever happened."

Juliet raised an eyebrow. "...To me. For him it was probably like… bottom seven."

She rolled her eyes but smiled. "I can't believe you haven't told him we're dating yet. Have you even told him "your girlfriend's" name?"

"I told him a name."

"If you told him my name was Beyonce, I swear to god."

"What? It's your middle name."

"I know you're joking, but it's important to me you understand that isn't really my middle name."

"This is gonna make some forms I filled out really awkward."

She leaned down and kissed him on the cheek. "Come on, let's go! You can film in the car."

She drives and he sits in the passenger's seat, turning the camera on her. "So, here's the plan: I go out before you, you stay in the car and film."

"Shawn, this is a ridiculous plan!"

"Fine, but he's going to be asking a lot of questions if I show up with a camera pointed at him."

"Okay, I will film."

"You're the best girlfriend ever, you know that?"

"I do know that."

They pulled onto the street in front of Henry's house and Shawn jumped out of the car. "Hey, pops!" he called, walking into his dad's front yard.

"Shawn!" replied Henry. "Where's the date?"

"She's just grabbing her stuff from the car." (Actually, she was rolling down the window to get better shot.)

"You going to tell me her name yet? I mean, god, Shawn, what's she going to say when I don't know anything about her?"

"I'm sure you know more about her than you think."

"Come on, Shawn. Just tell me what she does."

"She works at the police station."

"Let me guess, blonde? Could kick your ass?"

"Woah, spot on."

"Look," said Henry. "I don't know what Juliet is doing these days. I don't know if she's off with Declan in Rome or Paris or what, but after all that

stuff you said about her, please tell me you at least tried."

Shawn made a strange sound, somewhere between a scream and a howl.

"Shawn, stop playing. I'm being serious. I know you-"

"I did try, dad," said Shawn, looking over Henry's shoulder to where Jules was approaching them, still holding the iphone.

"You sound nothing like a bird!" she yelled.

"You're-" stuttered Henry. "...Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because that face right there is hilarious?" he answered.

Henry laughed and shook his head. He walked past Shawn to the grill and shook his head. To

Juliet he said, "You've made a terrible mistake."

She lowered the phone and took Shawn's hand. "Don't I know it."

Later that night Henry pulled Shawn aside. "This could be the best thing you ever did," he said. "Don't screw it up."

"Trust me, I'm not going to," said Shawn. He turned to walk back to Jules.

"I'm proud of you," said Henry.

"Thanks, dad."