A/N: Hey! This is my first fanfiction story ever, so be nice. (: I proofread it myself to the best of my capabilities, as I do not have a beta. (:

I've been trying to think of something to write about for a while, and I was just inspired today on a trip to the Seattle Center, where I saw their little mini town that they set up in the winter. It's incredibly detailed...and I had this idea... But I won't spoil it for you! Please drop me a review and tell me what you think; I'd be thrilled to even get one. Thanks!

I've never been to Santa Barbara, so if any geography is off I apologize. (:

Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own the amazing show that is Psych. All creds go to Steve Franks (: I do, however, own a pineapple that's currently in my fridge, just waiting for my friend to come over so we can watch the show and enjoy it. (:

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The little girl with the pink-scrunchy bound pigtails stretched up onto her tiptoes to see over the blue banister into the miniature town exhibit. "Look!" she exclaimed with wide eyes, watching the electric train zoom by underneath her, rolling past the icy pond with the figure skaters, the sawmill, and over the trellis into the train station. Santa Barbara may lack snow during December, but this tiny town had plenty of white cotton draped over the old-fashioned buildings and surrounding the working carousel.

The girl's older brother lifted her up so she could see into the display, propping her on his knee. She bounced excitedly, pointing at the boy skating in circles on the pond. "All the little people!" she cried.

Her brother nodded and grinned, then dipped his head and pointed over her shoulder into the main square of the town. "There are more over there," he added.

While the little girl swung her head from side to side, taking in everything, the brother squinted at a pair of small figures next to what appeared to be a blacksmith shop. One of the dolls was smaller than the others in the town, and wasn't dressed in old-fashioned clothes. He put his sister down on the floor and she scampered over to their mom while he walked closer to the small building, looking into the shadowy corner where the figures were posed.

"What kind of sicko put those there?" he wondered as he got a closer look at them. The unusual figure was unidentifiable and dressed all in black, and was stabbing a female townsperson with a sharp knife, still shiny in its small size. He shook his head with disgust and glanced around furtively before reaching over the banister and plucking the black figure from its spot next to the small wooden model building. No little kid should see that kind of twisted joke in a fun, family-friendly place such as the Santa Barbara Winterfest.

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"What have we got, O'Hara?" SBPD Chief Karen Vick strode purposefully into the crime scene outside of the small hardware store. The back corner of the establishment was blocked off with police tape, and a body was being lifted into the coroners van.

"34 year old female stabbing victim," Juliet read off of her notes, leading the Chief over to her partner. "It happened sometime last night after the owner of this store went home. His name is Bud Anderson. He left early yesterday because business had been slow and his other employee went home sick after lunch. He didn't see anything unusual until he came back for work this morning and spotted the body."

"Okay, as soon as you have any leads, call me." The Chief hurried off to talk with one of the medics.

Lassiter was standing and talking to the owner of the store when Juliet walked up. Bud, an older, balding man dressed in overalls and a plaid shirt looked shaken and pale, and kept glancing back over to the side of the building where the bloody spot and numerous police markers still existed.

"I—I have no idea what happened," he stuttered.

Lassiter took off his sunglasses and tucked them into his pocket, glancing around. "Have you had any angry customers lately? Laid off employees?"

"No," Bud answered nervously. "It's a small, family run business. The only people that work here besides me are my grandson, Zachary Abrams, and my brother Hank. Zach is the one who went home early yesterday."

Lassiter nodded and turned to his partner. "O'Hara, see if you can track down those two and find out if they can tell us anything. You can go," he dismissed Bud. "And—".

He was cut short by the arrival of two of his least favorite people in the entire city of Santa Barbara. "Lassie! Jules!" Shawn Spencer jogged up with Gus in tow. Juliet pulled out her cell phone and headed over to the chief. "What's cracking? Besides the sky that is...Gus and I were up late watching Chicken Little last night. He's fairly convinced now that acorns are created by aliens—".

"Not now, Spencer." Lassiter turned and walked away from the pair, one of whom was now giving his best friend a dirty look. "We're actually trying to do a real investigation here, not like those words mean anything to you."

"Great!" Shawn rubbed his hands together eagerly. "How can we help?"

Lassiter sneered and turned back to face them. "You can leave. That way," he added, pointing to the Blueberry.

"Psssshhh," Shawn retorted.

"Let's go Shawn," Gus decided, heading for his car. "If the Chief had needed our help, she would have called us."

"Since when has that stopped us?" Shawn said with exasperation. He glanced over at the shaded corner of the store parking lot, noticing an officer using forceps to place a small doll dressed in an antique looking dress into an evidence bag. The doll looked oddly familiar, and Shawn suddenly realized where it had come from. He trotted back over to Gus and tapped him on the arm. "How do you feel about a shopping trip?"

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Fifteen minutes later, Shawn and Gus were walking into the Santa Barbara Shopping Mall, which was thoroughly decorated with wreaths, tinsel, and an impressive assortment of colored lights. "They're really getting into the holiday spirit here," Gus commented.

Shawn nodded, completely distracted, and made a beeline for the food court in the center of the complex. "Dude, look at those muffins," Shawn said with awe as they entered the court.

Gus' eyes were wide with agreement. "They're like, Costco muffin sized." He and Shawn bumped fists before Gus took out his wallet. "Pineapple smoothies are on you tomorrow."

Several minutes later, Shawn and Gus and two giant muffins had finally reached the target that Shawn had planned on coming to see in the first place. The Santa Barbara Centerville, a miniature town of incredibly detailed model buildings decorated with old-fashioned festivities and people that was set up every year around holiday time. "Hey, look at the tiny dog," Shawn chortled, swallowing a giant bite of delicious muffin. Then he spotted one of the townspeople, posed outside of a house that had Santa and some reindeer on the roof. "Look," Shawn pointed, wiping his fingers on his jeans. "There was a doll just like these at the crime scene."

Shawn spun on his heel and trotted back out the direction they came, leaving Gus still standing next to the display and looking confused. "Where are you going?"

"To the station!" Shawn called, stopping and waiting for Gus to catch up.

"Why?"

"I need to have a vision."

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A/N: So! What did you think of Chapter One? If even one person is interested in reading on, I'll write some more. But I won't know if you like it if you don't send a review! (: If you want to see some pictures of the real Centerville at the Seattle Center, you can go to the blog I created just for my FanFiction and FictionPress accounts. (I would also love some people to give me feedback on my FictionPress stories, btdubbs.) (:

Centerville Pics: (without spaces) http:/ www. empyreanskies. blogspot. com

FictionPress stories: (without spaces) http:/ www. fictionpress. com/u/813507/