Ah! Sorry it's taken me so long to update. Like I said, not that into it right now, so I'm probably just gonna wrap it up right here and now or else it'll be sitting around unfinished for forever. Sorry! Love those reviews!

REVIEW FROM LAST CHAPTER: "Aaaaaahhhhh!" Jules screamed excitedly in a high pitch voice. Just coming up the department steps were four revealingly-dressed girls.

One platinum blonde, two dirty blondes (and that adjective was applicable in more than one way), and a brunette, albeit with blonde streaks.

In a flurry of pink and clinking heels, Jules embraced them in a great big group hug. Despite all their flaws (sluttiness, superficiality, gossiping, shallowness, lack of ambition, and the occasional bout of back-stabbing), she loved these girls.

When the hugging was finally over, Jules looked them all over. Janie, Lila, Mabel and Sal. How long had it been?

"Wow," said Mabel (dirty blonde #2), the smartest of the four (which wasn't saying much). "This is, like, an actual police place. Like, with cops and handcuffs and everything! My boyfriend's in training to be a fireman, but that place isn't nearly this big!"

Jules internally rolled her eyes. Of course she had to slip in something about a boyfriend.

"Yeah, my boyfriend's only the President of some company," Janie (platinum blonde) commented. It was obvious the word only was thrown in there for the sole reason of politeness. Well, at least, Janie's definition of polite.

"Mine's just a lawyer," Lila added, then smirked. She wasn't so good at pretending to be nice. The word 'just' was painted in mocking letters on her forehead.

"Mine's a mere doctor," Sal said. Only and just Jules could take. But mere? Who the hell had said fucking mere since Elizabeth Bennett married Mr. Fucking Darcy?

Jules was mentally fuming as they all turned expectantly to look at her. Two minutes in and they had already backed into the corner of the subject of BOYFRIENDS. And an awful, reeking, motherfucking, place-where-Rod-Blagojevich-goes-to-die corner it was.

That's when her brain went BLOOP and whatever part of her it was that took over when she had no idea what she was doing stepped in. She did it unexpectedly, and when she was finished, it was almost like she was watching someone else and saying to that person, What the hell, Jules?

"Um, well," Jules blurted out hastily, yanking Shawn off her desk by his arm. Papers sputtered everywhere, and Shawn's eyes were wide and confused. "This is my boyfriend, Psychic Detective Shawn Spencer."

The first thing that happened was that Detective Lassiter burst into laughter. Tears actually sprang from his eyes as he clutched his stomach in gleeful pain, pointing to the two of them and wheezing. Shawn was frozen with his eyebrows so far up on his forehead that if he were a cartoon, they'd be leaping off his head.

Jules made wide eyes at the both of them (mostly Lassiter), while Janie, Lila, Mabel and Sal just looked back and forth at the odd triangle.

"Psychic?" Mabel asked, finally, looking at Shawn. For once, he was lost for words. He just stuttered and nodded his head slightly. "Uh-uh-huh," he squeaked.

"How exciting," Lila commented, wide-eyed and curious (she was not the smartest purse in the Prada section). "Do you read people's wavelengths? Can you tell if they're gay? Because Sal hasn't been able to tell why her boyfriend won't-"

"Lila," Sal hissed, scowling at the blonde.

"Seriously?" Janie skepticized (Is that a word? Jules wondered). "You honestly expect me to believe you're psychic? Prove it."

By now Shawn had regained his regular light and slightly perverted composure. He looked Janie up and down, then started, "You're twenty-nine years old and obviously fretting over your upcoming thirtieth birthday because you tell people you're twenty-six-no, sorry, twenty-five. You peaked in high school when you dated the quarterback, but you managed to ride out that wave until college was over, at which point you scrambled to find a rich boyfriend to sustain you since you have absolutely no worldly skills."

Janie was unfazed. Come to think of it, she had always been the biggest bitch Jules had ever met. She was a regular Blair Waldorf. At this point Jules considered committing suicide because she realized she was almost thirty and she'd just compared someone to a character from Gossip Girl.

"Really? That's the best you can do?" Janie stepped closer to Shawn, invading his personal space like they do in every single dance movie ever invented. Jules almost expected the words You ain't seen my moooves to come out of her mouth. At this point Jules considered committing suicide because she realized she'd seen all five Bring It On movies. "I bet you're not even Jules' girlfriend. Wha'd you do, Jules, scrape this one out of the bottom of the pit? Psychic detective, my ass."

Oh! Oh, what? What the what?

At this point Jules considered committing suicide because she was now quoting Liz Lemon.

Jules had to refocus her attention from reassigning Janie as smartest bitch instead of Mabel. Plus, it was kind of hard not to focus on her when she was two inches away from Shawn's face.

"If you were really her boyfriend," she said, "you wouldn't let me kiss you right now."

Well, now she was screwed. Shawn and his hyperactive penis would not pass up the chance to make out with a hot chick. Jules would know. Well, actually, no she wouldn't, because she'd never made out with him, but she'd had a freaky ass dream once-

-back to present time!

Back to present time because...she suddenly felt an arm around her waist and hands wrapping around her back and she was being dipped in the most romantic way like they do in Audrey Hepburn movies. That had never happened to her when someone else was around (at this point Jules considered committing suicide after realizing she sometimes danced around her house alone and dipped herself). And she felt lips pressing against hers and lips moving against hers and her first thought was OMG is Janie kissing me? I mean, I experienced in college but this is way inappropriate! and her second thought was Damn, Janie really needs to shave once in a while! before she realized that Shawn was kissing her (at this point Jules considered committing suicide because, come on, she was a dumbass).

"Don't cross my girlfriend," Shawn said, and then he swept her off her feet-literally-and carried her out of the department. Which was actually kind of a problem because she'd made plans with those girls. When she told Shawn that he just said,

"Damn, Jules, ya gotta ruin a romantic moment? This type of thing only happens in Humphrey Bogart films!"

Jules considered that for a moment. "I suppose I could...reschedule. Oh, and am I your girlfriend now?"

Shawn didn't answer. And from the end of pretty much every romantic comedy ever, you can probably imagine why.

THE END

A/N: Sorry this ending sucked so bad. I was in a hurry to get this fic over with because I lost interest. However, hopefully it was funny enough. Don't flame me because I already know it's horrible! XOXO! (At this point I'm considering committing suicide because I realized I've been watching waaay too much Gossip Girl).