A/N: I wrote you all a poem:
Love Me
Hate Me
But Here Is
A New Story
Done!
Disclaimer: I, Jesse Wales, state that I, in no way, own any characters, settings, etc. of Psych. All rights belong to USA Network. The problem is… I STOLE THESE PEOPLE AND ALTERED THEM OR THEIR LIVES, SO THEY'RE MINE! MINE, DO YOU HEAR ME? I will not violate the rules of claiming credit. Thank you.
Full Summary: Shana Spencer, resident psychic of the SBPD, has a secret. She poses as a guy for she's in a man's world. But when a violating case lands on the Chief's desk and the Psych crew is banned from the station, her secret is threatened, and all she did was survive.
On the other hand: What's the story with the blast from Carlton's past?
All we know is that Carlton is going to have to really juggle his Social Life and his Work Life for the first time in a long time.
Chapter 1: Season 1 Episode 1 Part 1: Intro
1986 Santa Barbara, CA
Young Shana Spencer and her dad were sitting at table set in a small diner they visited often. There was funky 80's music playing in the background and she could hear the small quiet chatter of the other customers. Shana was currently sporting a tan, white, and dark brown striped shirt and a plain pair of blue jeans. Her silky, brown hair was put up in a simple ponytail, the tips of it just barely reaching her shoulders, using a tan, fluffy hair band. She was sitting quietly in her seat, having just finish eating her food, and waited for the words that she knew would come out of her dad's mouth. Said dad, Henry Spencer, detective extraordinaire, crossed is arms.
"You do your homework?"
"Uh-huh," was her quick answer, playing with the fork in her hand, her hazel eyes focusing on random things. Her empty plate and her dad's empty mug containing coffee sat there.
"Finish those beets?"
Isn't it obvious? She thought. I'm sitting right in front of you.
"Yep," her eyes zoomed in on a fudge cake slice in a see-through display case on the counter. "Can I have the fudge cake?
Henry studied her quickly.
"Close your eyes."
"Dad, I don't wanna…," she whined, knowing exactly he was planning.
"Now."
She sighed, shaking her head in exasperation, and did what he said. She closed her eyes and put her fingers to her temples, the thumbs resting under her chin. It was what helped her concentrate.
This was her ultimate least favorite thing to do. You would have thought that she being a girl would have made her Daddy's Little Girl, but it didn't spare her from the training.
Her dad looked over her head, studying the EXIT sign above the door.
"Which letter is out in the EXIT sign?"
And it begins, she thought glumly.
She searched her memory and quickly found the answer.
"The 'X'," she answered.
Her eyes were still closed because she knew the tests were never that short.
"What color is the vinyl?"
He eyes scrunched up in confusion.
"What's vinyl?" she asked.
"It's the stuff these seats are covered in," Henry answered looking at his seat.
She concentrated hard.
"Purple," was her quick and simple answer.
"Maroon, close enough. Manager's name?"
What?
"Who?" she asked.
"She's wearing a name tag. The woman standing at the front door when we first walked in. You saw her."
Shana brought the memory back to mind and replayed the scene her dad was talking about. She was scanning the room and she spotted the name.
"Marie," she said finally. "Can I have the cake now?
She said it hopefully, wishing he was finally done. Her dad leaned forward, arms still crossed.
"How many hats?"
She thought too soon.
"Ugh, come on, dad," she groaned.
"Shana, you want a piece of cake? How many hats are in the room?"
Shana rubbed her temples and answered.
"Does a beanie count?" she asked, still thinking.
"What do you think?"
"Three."
Done!
"You didn't describe them."
Or not.
"That's not fair," she said indignantly.
The waitress finished with the people behind them and was heading up with her pad and pen at ready.
"Times almost up, Shana."
She took on hand of her head and began pointing out the hats she was describing. Her eyes were still shut and she licked her lips. Her dad head followed her descriptions.
"One has a flower, the one the lady's wearing. One has a picture of some kind of lion, on the weird guy with the crooked tooth. The last one is on the chef."
Her dad looked up at the waitress standing and looking impressed.
"What about the beanie?" he asked.
"A beanie's a cap, not a hat," she said, shaking her head.
Her dad let show a small smile with quickly disappeared.
"All right, open your eyes."
"Thank you," she muttered, letting her head dip a little and her hands squeezed close before opening again. "And I told you I like being called Shawn, dad.
"That's a boy name," he huffed.
"And I like it very much. Gus calls me Shawn, why can't you?"
Henry didn't answer and the waitress then chose to speak.
"Wow, that's amazing," her pen poised over her pad.
Shana smiled with pride, arms on the table surrounding her plate.
"It's adequate," her dad said smugly.
Her smile disappeared. Henry glanced up at the waitress.
"Get her, her cake," he told her and she wrote it down.
She glanced up and smiled at the put-down Shana.
"I guess I know what you're gonna be when you grow up," she stated.
"Oh," she said shaking her head. "I'm never gonna grow up, ma'am."