The club was your typical wooden structure, with red Chinese lanterns hanging in front that were apparently lit up at night, a patio in back overlooking the ocean (with tables set up for people who wanted to eat out there), and (of course) a huge neon sign on the roof shaped a lot like the bouquet now clenched in Shawn's hand. He wished Gus was here so they could make some snide commentary about being in the red light district. But to get a chance to do that, he had to go inside.

Shawn stepped through the doorway only to be bombarded by Frank Sinatra's "I've Got the World on a String" and the smell of expensive perfume. Blinking his eyes at the sudden influx of darkness, the detective instantly began examining the number of people inside.

There were only twenty people in the club, since apparently business wouldn't start getting good until evening. A few of them were black (none of them, to his disappointment, was the one he was looking for); at least half of them were couples. There were only two hats in the room, both belonging to women worried about getting sunburned-

Shawn shrugged irritably at himself for falling back into the habits instilled by his father. He went on surveying the people, moving out of the doorway when he saw that some were giving him curious stares, and observed the single people.

That one's waiting for her boyfriend to get back from the bathroom...that one has been eating Cheetos for the past two hours, probably using them as comfort food...that guy just lost his job, and came because he likes the ambiance-whoa, hold up.

A redheaded woman in a green sweater and jeans seated at a corner table was staring at him, and now waving him over with a big smile. Shawn started to take a step back-she probably thought he was a blind date or something because of the stupid flowers-but then he looked at her other hand, and his gut clenched. Because resting under her fingers, recognizable to the 'psychic' even from this far away, were the keys to the Blueberry.

"Hi!" she chirped when he walked over and sat down across from her.

"Hey," Shawn replied, putting on his most falsely flirtatious smile. "You alone?" Inwardly, though, he was scanning her intensely. He'd learned, after their final encounter with Yin and Yang, not to be thrown off by a pretty or innocent-looking girl-at least, he hoped he had-and looking at this one, he could see a few signs that she was not all she appeared to be. No make up, nails uneven lengths, something just a little too manic about her eyes. Oh, and the fact that she had Gus's freaking keys in her hand and was now caressing them possessively.

"Not anymore," she said happily as he set the roses between them on the table. "Do you want anything?"

"Nah, I ate earlier." He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table in a complete breach of etiquette. "I mostly came because I'm worried about a friend of mine, and I think you might know where he is."

The smile widened for a second. "Oh, Mr. Guster? Yeah, sure. He's over at my place. I'm glad you came early, by the way; he was worried about you."

Shawn blinked in mock surprise. "He was thinking about me, when he had you to keep him company? That doesn't sound like Gus."

The woman giggled. "Aww, you think I'm pretty? That's so sweet!"

"...Can we go get him now? He needs to get back to work by Monday."

She didn't answer, choosing instead to pick up the bouquet and dig through it.

"You didn't even try to plant a tracking device?" she finally asked in a disappointed tone. "I would have at least expected a tracking device."

"Maybe I didn't put it in the flowers. Care to search me?"

Ruby, as he decided to call her until or unless he found out her real name (and honestly, he might keep calling her Ruby even after that; the red hair made it appropriate somehow), stuck out her tongue at him.

"No." Then Shawn felt a pressure against his stomach, which turned out upon his glancing down to be the muzzle of a gun. Ruby went on, "And for his sake, I hope you don't have one."

Somehow, none of the other customers appeared to be noticing anything. It was maddening how unobservant people could be sometimes.

The gun prodded him slightly. "Shall we go find your friend now? He's probably lonely."

Shawn nodded. "Sure."

"Good. Bring the flowers."

They walked out of the restaurant, arm in arm, Ruby's gun having slid into the safety of her purse, but her spare hand thrust inside as a message that she could still shoot with it. Shawn had the now-rather-crumpled bouquet in his free hand.

"It's not far," she assured him with another sunny smile. "Come on. And don't worry about your bike; I doubt anyone will steal it."

"...We're not driving?"

She snorted. "You think I'd be arrogant enough to bring Guster's car here where anyone could notice it? Too conspicuous. Even if it's no longer retrofitted like you had it that one time."

Shawn's gut clenched again, as he asked casually, "You know a lot about my cases, huh?"

"Oh yeah. It's very exciting. You two are really great detectives. Though whether or not you're a real psychic is questionable."

It was Shawn's turn to snort. "Everyone says that."

"Yeah, but the existence of psychics is questionable at best. I think you're just really, really good at what you do, and cover it up in a shroud of mysticism so people won't think you're involved in the crimes or something. But if you want to call it being psychic, hey, who am I to judge?"

Ruby suddenly jerked him across the street, with far more strength than a young woman of her size and build should have, and over to a frozen yogurt stand.

"Ooh, they have raspberry!" she squealed excitedly. "I love raspberry!" Without even looking at Shawn, she ordered a large cone of frozen yogurt. When it was filled, Shawn noticed that the vendor was looking at him expectantly.

"...What?"

"Oh, sorry, you're not going to pay for your girlfriend?"

As he started to splutter angrily, Ruby giggled. "He's cheap like that. It's okay, I can pay for my own yogurt."

Her hand started to reach back into her purse…

"No, that's fine, I'll pay for it." And Shawn (with some relief) let go of her arm, and dug his wallet out of his pocket.

"...You thought I was going to shoot him over yogurt?" Ruby asked as they walked away, eyes widening before licking her treat.

"The thought did cross my mind."

She gave him a look. "I'm not Mr. Yin, Shawn. Sheesh."

"Are we almost there?" Shawn demanded impatiently, still racking his brains for some kind of plan.

"Just across the street." Ruby pointed over at a relatively nice-looking house; through the windows on the garage door, he could barely make out a certain blue car we all know and love.

The tip of her purse prodded him in the back. "After you."

I probably haven't given you much to go on yet, which is why you're not reviewing. So I put some excitement in here, thinking maybe that would inspire something (cough cough, hint hint). I know you all probably hate it when authors pester you to review, but you all probably do the same thing in your stories, right? And turnabout is fair play.