Life is like a box of chocolates. Sometimes you get the creamy raspberry filling, sometimes you get the nougat that gets stuck to your teeth.

Sometimes you plan on posting a chapter before work but then trip over the vacuum cleaner and land on your bad knee.

Point is, you never know what is going to happen next.

Santa Barbara, 2013

Monday

The morning light shone down on the city. Its warm glow illuminated the coastal streets and the string of buildings along the boardwalk. At the end of one building, with a particularly nice view of the beach, there was a business with bright green lettering on the window. A peek inside would have revealed something that looked more like a college dorm room than the office of a detective agency.

Most people were at work at this time of day, but a few were walking the boardwalk or lounging on the beach, enjoying the beautiful weather. The calm ocean and brilliant blue sky combined to create a peaceful, relaxing atmosphere.

This idyllic setting was shattered by the sound of gunshots and screaming coming from the detective's office.

"Shawn!" Burton Guster, aka Gus, yelled as his character died for the ninth time. He was wearing gray slacks and a pink shirt that worked nicely with his cocoa brown skin tone. His shaved head gleamed as he turned to look at his friend. "We're on the same team! Could you please stop killing me?"

Shawn, best friend and assassin, smirked. He looked much as he did in high school, still clad in jeans and a t-shirt. He had refined the carefully tousled look for his hair and his eyes sparkled with mischief. "Sorry dude, guess you just keep getting in the way. Besides," he said with a positively evil grin, "you make it too easy." His grin faded as on screen his character exploded from a plasma grenade. "Dude, that is so not cool."

"You reap what you sow Shawn," Gus stated with a satisfied smirked.

"Um, excuse me?"

Shawn turned around. Standing behind them was a teenage girl wearing a blue t-shirt and white-washed jeans with a hole in the left knee. She had long brunette hair held back in a pony tail, hazel eyes, and was looking at them in confusion.

"I'm looking for Shawn Spencer. The newspaper article said he works here. Am I in the right place?" She glanced around the office. "This is Psych, right?" A couch was situated under the front window underneath the green Psych logo. Two desks stood opposite each other in the center of the room. The one on the right was neat and organized. The one on the left was cluttered with junk. She looked back at the two guys sitting on another couch in front of a plasma screen, playing video games. Clearly nothing about the place said 'psychic detective' to her.

"You've come to the right place," Shawn said, standing up. On screen his character died in a bloody ambush by the opposing team. He winced but continued. "I am Shawn Spencer, psychic detective." He came around the couch and held out a hand for her to shake.

She took it carefully, letting go as soon as she could. Shawn noticed the way she kept a couple of feet between them as a safety zone and watched him closely. She was younger than he first thought, probably only fourteen or fifteen, though she acted as if she was older.

She gestured behind him at the television screen. "A psychic who plays Halo?"

"It happens to be very good for honing hand eye coordination skills," Gus said in defense. He got up as well and turned off the game.

"Plus my psychic ability allows me to 'see' where the enemy soldiers are before I run into them." Shawn started raising his hand to his head in his classic psychic gesture. Gus slapped his arm before he could complete it.

"Wouldn't Silent Scope be a better game for developing hand eye coordination?" the girl asked. She mimed shooting at imaginary targets in demonstration but quickly stopped at their amused looks. She rubbed her left arm as she blushed slightly. "Well, it would," she said defensively.

"Yes, but then I wouldn't get to team up with my best bud. Team work is an important part of any investigation," Shawn said seriously.

"They why do you keep killing me, Shawn?" Gus asked, disgruntled.

"To remind you to always be aware of your surroundings, and to never take anyone at face value," he said with a smirk.

"Yeah, whatever Shawn." Gus muttered. He put the controllers away and came around the couch to stand next to Shawn.

"Okay," the girl said slowly, brow furrowed in confusion as she looked at them. She shook her head and took a deep breath, her expression turning serious. "I need help finding someone."

He and Gus exchanged a look. "If this is about a missing person, you should contact the police," Gus started.

"No! No police!" she said vehemently. Shawn was a little taken aback by her outburst. He glanced at Gus, who looked worriedly back at him. She continued on hurriedly. "I mean, I've heard about all the cases you've solved. Surely you're good enough to solve the case on your own?" There was a hint of a challenge in her voice, which, along with her hopeful look, made him instantly decide to take this case.

"Why don't you sit down and tell us what you know?" Shawn gestured to the couch by the window. As she walked over to it and sat down, Gus pulled him aside.

"I don't like this," Gus said, turning his back on the girl. He looked at Shawn seriously. "Did you see her reaction when I mentioned the police? I'm not getting mixed up in anything illegal, Shawn. Not again. And don't you think she should be in school right now? It's the middle of the day."

"Gus, don't be a nervous Nelly," he teased. He paused as a thought struck him. "That's a weird phrase. Who is Nelly? Any relation to the rapper?" He grinned at Gus. "What a dilemma."

"Shawn, focus," Gus said, giving him a shove.

He sighed. "We'll at least hear her out," he bargained. "Kids ditch school all the time. And maybe there's a perfectly innocent reason she doesn't want the police involved." Gus snorted doubtfully. "We haven't had a case in over two weeks. Or. . ." He smirked at Gus. "I can continue kicking your butt in Halo."

Gus glared at him. "Fine," he said finally. "But I'm going on record as being against this."

"Noted," he said, turning around. He pulled up a chair and sat opposite the girl. Gus followed and stood behind him. "As I said I'm Shawn Spencer, and this is my associate, the Doctor."

"Doctor who?" she asked, puzzled.

He turned to Gus with a triumphant grin. "See, I told you I could get someone to say it!"

"You don't even watch that show Shawn." Gus turned to the girl. "I'm Burton Guster," he said extending his hand. "Could you tell us your name?"

"My name is Nicole Peterson," she said, shaking his hand just as quickly as she had with Shawn. "But everyone calls me Nikki."

"Well Nikki," Shawn said, turning back to the girl. "Who is it you are looking for?"

"Well, that's the thing," she said, looking a little embarrassed. "I'm not sure who exactly I'm looking for."

Shawn could feel Gus thinking 'I told you so.' "Can you tell us anything about them?" He was hoping she didn't want him to 'sense' who the missing person was. It was so much more work.

She sighed, looking down. "He's my dad," she said quietly.

He looked over at Gus. His friend shook his head no, but Shawn wasn't so sure. Something about this didn't feel right. "Is your father missing?" he inquired.

"Not exactly," she said, looking up. He was startled by the sadness in her eyes. She blinked, and the look was gone, replaced by grim determination. "Look, it's really important that I find him."

He hesitated. This was looking more like a police matter by the minute. "I'm not sure this is really our type of case," he said uncertainly.

A look of resignation crossed her face. "I understand," she said quietly. She slowly got up and headed for the door.

"Wait!" he called out. Gus was really going to kill him, but he couldn't ignore someone in need. If she wasn't going to go to the police, that left it up to him to help her. "We'll need some more information to track him down." He wanted until Nikki was seated again. "When was the last time you saw him?"

She gave a short laugh. "That's the problem. I've never actually met him."

Gus nudged him. He ignored him. "Do you know his name?"

"Umm, no," she said, looking embarrassed. "My mom never mentioned him by name."

"How about what he looks like?" he asked, hoping for at least a vague description.

"No," she said again. She looked at him apologetically. "She only knew him for one night so there aren't even any pictures of him."

"Do you know where he lives?" he asked, grasping at straws now.

"Sort of?" she said hesitantly.

He was relieved at this point for any information he could get. "Sort of is good. We can work with sort of."

"Well," she said, perking up now that she had something to share, "I know he was in Columbia, North Carolina in 1997. And I know he was originally from Santa Barbara."

"That's not much to go on," he said with a sigh. He looked at her carefully. "Have you tried asking your mother about him?" There must be a reason the mother was being so tight-lipped about her father.

Nikki hesitated. "We haven't been on speaking terms these last couple of weeks," she said after a moment. "She would never tell me much about him anyway." He thought he saw tears in her eyes. She blinked and cleared her throat. "But that shouldn't be a problem right? You're a psychic; I'm sure you've solved cases with less information." She looked at him hopefully.

"Um, Shawn?" said Gus. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

"Give me one second," he said, giving her a kind smile.

She nodded. "Take your time," she said, getting comfortable on the couch. "I'll wait."

He got up and led Gus a few steps away so their conversation wouldn't be overheard. "What?"

"Dude, something is not right here." Gus stated. "How are we supposed to find someone with no information? I think she's hiding something." He glanced over at Nikki. She noticed and waved. He turned back to Shawn and continued. "Whatever she's messed up in I want no part of it. I say we forget she was ever here."

"But she is here," he said emphatically. He gave Gus a determined look. "She came to us for help and who are we to turn her away?" He pulled Gus back another couple of steps. "I agree, there's more going on than she's telling us," he continued quietly. "What if she's in real trouble? Who else is going to help her?"

"Fine," said Gus, exasperated. "But you're on your own with this one." He walked over to his desk and sat down.

Shawn returned to Nikki. "We'll take the case," he said as he sat down.

She looked relieved. "Thank you." She hesitated, "I know you sometimes work for the police department. Can you promise you won't mention to anyone I asked for your help?" She looked up at him pleadingly.

He hesitated before answering. "Look, are you in some kind of trouble? Because we have a policy against helping criminals." Gus snorted at that. Shawn turned and gave him a look, clearly telling him to shut it.

"It's nothing like that," she answered hurriedly. "It's just I'm only fifteen and I don't want any of this getting back to my mom." For a second, he thought he saw pain flicker over her face. Then it was gone and she laughed nervously. "She may have expressly forbidden me from looking for him."

Defying a parent, I can relate to that. "Okay Miss Peterson," he said, standing up. "We'll let you know when we have something." Behind him, the office phone began to ring. Gus answered it. "How can we contact you?"

"I'll just stop by tomorrow to see what you found out," she said, standing also. "Thank you again for agreeing to help me." She paused as she turned to leave. "Also, I don't think it's very sporting to kill your own teammate," she said, pointing to where the two had been playing Halo. She gave him a cheeky smile. "I would think a psychic would be able to outsmart his friend without resorting to violence." With that she left.

"What a strange girl," he said to himself. There was something about the way she looked when she smiled at him. It seemed almost familiar.

"That was the Chief," Gus said, hanging up the phone. "We have a case."

"Two cases in one day? That's great. To the Blueberry!" he shouted, using the nickname for Gus's little blue Echo. He grabbed his jacket and headed for the door. "What is it this time? A murder? Buried treasure? Ooo, maybe we'll have to go undercover as ninjas to break up an international league of assassins." Nikki's case went to the back of his mind as he wondered what adventure the police department had for them this time.

In the car, Gus filled Shawn in on what the chief had told him over the phone.

"It seems a chemist at UC Santa Barbara was found dead in his lab a couple of days ago," Gus said. "Something went wrong with one of his experiments. It looks accidental, but since he's a prominent scientist, the chief wants your opinion."

"A chemist. . . aren't those the people who turn lead into gold?" Shawn asked, getting excited. "Dude, do you think we can demand our fee in gold?"

"That's alchemy, Shawn," he corrected. He could almost predict what Shawn would say next.

"Isn't that the study of fortunes based on stars?" Shawn asked.

"No, that's astrology," he said. Next he'll go on about astronomy. Didn't we already do this with the planetarium case?

"Isn't that the study of stars?" Shawn asked. He would swear he saw Shawn hiding a grin.

"Chemistry is the study of matter," he stated, bringing an end to the argument. "This chemist was trying to create a new plastic polymer when he died."

"Sounds boring. So what about the accident?" Shawn asked excitedly. "Was there a huge explosion? Was anything left of the lab? Oh, I bet there was only a shadow left on the wall in the shape of his body." He started bouncing in his seat like a little kid.

"Actually the chemicals created a toxic gas that knocked him out and killed him within minutes," he said. Beside him, Shawn slumped down in the seat, deflated. Gus shook his head. "You need to grow up."

"Never!" Shawn stated emphatically. "Oh, look! A doggie," he squealed, pointing to a man walking his bulldog down the street. "Isn't it cute Gus?" Shawn punched him in the shoulder. "Zidge dog!"

Gus sighed. While he had grown used to Shawn's antics over the many years they had been friends, he sometimes wished he acted more mature. Shawn was thirty-six; he wasn't a kid anymore. It was time he started acting his age.

Almost as soon as Shawn and Gus entered the police station, they ran into Juliet O'Hara. She was dressed in a gray pantsuit and her new short haircut gave the blond detective an overall tougher appearance. Which Shawn just happened to find incredibly attractive.

"Hey sweetie," he said to his girlfriend. He pulled Juliet around the corner and, after checking to make sure no one was looking, gave her a quick kiss. "I missed you."

"Shawn, it's only been a couple of hours," she said exasperatedly. However, she looked pleased by the attention.

"Really? I could have sworn it was longer," he said, letting out a long suffering sigh. He gave Juliet a despairing look. "The hours without you are just bleak and empty." He slumped as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders.

Gus snorted. Shawn shoved him, the weight of the world magically lifting.

"Well, as fun as it is to see you," Juliet said, laughing, "I am working. Was there a point to this visit?"

"As a matter of fact there is," Shawn said. He puffed up his chest importantly. "It seems the Chief needs our help on another case."

"That's great! What case?" she asked eagerly. He was about to respond when Carlton Lassiter's voiced echoed down the hallway.

"O'Hara! Where's that file?" Lassiter's voice was full of frustration as he called for his partner.

She winced. "I have to go. We'll talk later." She looked at him seriously. "Lassiter and I have a heavy caseload right now and he's been very grouchy today. Please try not to annoy him anymore."

"Anymore?" Shawn pouted. "But I haven't done anything yet." Annoying Lassiter was one of his favorite pastimes at the station.

"Just being here annoys him," she said. She then hurried away, calling back over her shoulder, "Play nice Shawn."

He watched her leave, before turning to Gus. "Let's not keep the Chief waiting."

As they headed to the Chief's office, he spied Lassiter sitting at his desk. "Hey, you go on ahead, I'll catch up," he said, slipping behind a pillar.

"Shawn! Remember what Juliet said," Gus admonished him. Shawn shushed him, watching Lassiter to see if he had heard their conversation. Gus sighed and headed into Chief Vick's office.

Shawn peeked around the pillar. Good, Lassiter didn't hear anything. He stealth-fully made his way to Lassiter's desk, ducking behind pillars, next to desks, and once behind a particularly large cop. Finally he made it behind Lassiter.

The 6'1'' detective had his lean frame hunched over his desk, reading a case file. He ran a hand through his salt and pepper hair, which lately had been showing more salt. He appeared completely focused on the file.

Shawn leaned in and stood silently behind Lassiter, breathing quietly. As he waited for the detective to notice him, he read the file Lassiter was reviewing over his shoulder.

Lassiter remained oblivious to his presence for a few moments. Then he seemed to realize someone was behind him. He turned around to come face to face with Shawn.

"Hiya Lassie" he whispered, grinning at the surprised look on Lassiter's face.

Lassiter jumped. "God dammit Spencer!" he swore. "Do you know how incredibly annoying that is?" He turned back to the file he was working on. "I don't have time for your juvenile antics today."

"Yes, I heard you have a big case load," Shawn said. He came around and sat on the edge of Lassiter's desk, ignoring the detective's glare. He put his hand to his head, closed his eyes, and started waving his arm about. He called up the details about the case Lassiter was working on. Judging by his notes, Lassiter expected the brother. The quick glance Shawn had of the file told him this wasn't the case. "Including one involving domestic violence and a dead husband." He frowned in concentration. "I'm also sensing the brother is a dead end," he said, opening his eyes.

"Enough Spencer," Lassiter growled as Shawn almost hit him in the head. Shawn could almost see the steam coming out of his ears. Lassiter tugged a folder out from under him, almost unseating him from the desk. "Don't you think it's about time you grew up?"

"Man, why is everyone telling me that today?" he asked. He ducked off the desk as Lassiter tried to swat him with the folder.

"Mr. Spencer," said Chief Karen Vick, coming out of her office. She was an older woman of small stature, but the force of her presence overcame any obstacle her height posed. Right now, she looked annoyed. "My office. Now." She headed back inside.

"Run along Spencer and let the big boys do some real work," Lassiter said with a smirk.

Shawn walked towards the office. "By the way," he said over his shoulder. "I'm sensing the neighbor did it. He seems very concerned with the wife's well-being." There were several domestic disturbance calls made by the neighbor. He had tried, unsuccessful, and on several occasions, to convince the wife to file a charges against her husband. He also was home alone during the time of the attack. Shawn stopped out of sight to watch the detective's reaction.

"Son of a bitch," Lassiter cursed, looking the file over. "He's right. O'Hara!" He got up, meeting Juliet in the middle of the bullpen and thrusting the file at her. "Call the neighbor in again for questioning." He ran a hand over his face and sighed before heading towards the break room.

Mission accomplished. Grinning to himself, he entered the chief's office. "Chief, what is happening?" He saw Gus, seated in a chair in front of the desk, roll his eyes.

"Sit down Mr. Spencer," the Chief said sternly, giving him a hard look. "I'd appreciate it if you conducted yourself with some dignity while in my station, and stop interfering with my detectives while they are working."

"I don't call it interference when I do their work for them," he said with a grin, taking a seat next to Gus. He leaned over towards his friend. "Maybe if we ask real nicely, she'll let Lassie come out and play," he said in a loud whisper.

"Mr. Spencer, you may want to think about acting in a more mature manner," Vick said, her annoyance peaking. "We are not in the business of hiring juveniles to work on cases."

Shawn winced. He had pushed the chief a little too far this time. "That hurt, chief, but I'll try to take your advice under advisement." He sat up straighter in the chair and did his best to look mature.

"See that you do," Vick said with a sigh. She handed over a case file to Gus. He perused it quickly, then passed it along to Shawn. "The victim is Jeffrey Sanders, forty-five, a chemistry professor at UC Santa Barbara. He was found dead in his laboratory Saturday night. ME states cause of death was asphyxiation. As there were no physical signs on the body, we suspect he inhaled fumes from one of his experiments. We're waiting on lab results to confirm. CSI said a couple of the beakers were mislabeled and are looking into the possible resulting reactions. I'm inclined to rule it an accidental death but since he's a prominent scientist I wanted you to take a look first." She looked at Shawn expectantly.

He glanced through the file. Ignoring the written statements for now, he focused on the crime scene photos. There was Sanders, dead on the floor, his experiment still set up on the table. There were several shots of the lab, which was extremely neat and organized. Nearly every item in the lab had a little white label attached to it.

Another shot showed the table top where the experiment took place. Shawn squinted at the bottles. A couple of the beakers had labels that seemed slightly askew and wrinkled. The labels on everything else in the lab were perfectly straight and smooth.

Shawn shut the file. He closed his eyes and held his hand over it, as if trying to sense what happened. "I'm getting something," he said, eyes still closed. "I'm seeing letters, letters and numbers." He started waving his hand through the air as if writing something. "H2O, H2SO4, NH4, HCH4," he said, recalling that the labels for the last two chemicals had seemed off. He wrote out each set of letters as he said them.

Gus, knowing he had discovered something, spoke up, "Those are all common laboratory chemicals."

"Yes," he said, opening his eyes and pointing to Gus. "I'm also seeing little white bits of paper. Name tags if you will. But there's something wrong with them. The tag says Cindy. She's a fun girl, gets along well with others. A party girl, if you will." He gave the Chief a knowing look, unable to help himself. Her nostrils flared angrily, so he hurriedly continued. "But wait," he said, looking bewildered. "This isn't Cindy. It's Tony. And Tony has a temper. He's a bit, explosive, if you will," He started acting as if someone was trying to stab him. "No Tony, don't kill me." He wrestled with his imaginary opponent, falling to the floor.

"What does all this mean Mr. Spencer?" Vick asked, cutting short the performance.

He pretended to snap out of vision, lying on the floor panting for a moment. He got up and collapsed into the chair beside Gus.

"Check the bottles that were mislabeled," he said, a little out of breath. These acts were more tiring than they used to be. "I have a very strong feeling our victim did not label those bottles himself. This wasn't an accident." He leaned in and said dramatically, "This was murder."

Vick eyed him silently for several moments. "I'll have someone check on those bottles," she said finally. "If we find signs of tampering, I'll put you on the case."

"Great," he said, clapping his hands together. He stood up. "We'll be awaiting your call. Come on Gus." He turned to leave.

"Mr. Spencer," Vick called after him. "Remember what we discussed."

"Of course Chief," he said, heading out the door. He heard Gus sigh as he followed after him. "Let's go watch Lassie pretend I didn't solve his case for him," Shawn suggested as they walked through the bullpen.

"How about we do what the Chief said and leave Lassiter alone?" Gus asked. "We can't afford to lose any cases because you can't behave. We have a rent to pay and an electric bill due next week. Let's just head back to the office and start researching the Sanders guy." He gave Shawn a stern look.

Shawn wilted under Gus's gaze. "Aw man, you're no fun." Nevertheless, he followed Gus out of the police station incident free. He kept quiet until they got to the car. "Gus," he asked, trying to sound innocent.

"Yes Shawn?" Gus answered, his voice wary.

"Would it be too immature to hit a smoothie place before getting to work?" he asked, struggling to keep up the innocent act.

Gus considered this. "Well, I suppose not," he said, unlocking the car and getting inside.

"Great!" he said, getting in. "There's this new smoothie place on State Street that makes pineapple smoothies with pineapple shaped sprinkles. Imagine Gus, pineapple shaped sprinkles." His eyes sparkled with excitement.

Gus sighed. "Like working with a five year old," he muttered. Shawn pretended not to hear him.

Later that night, Shawn and Juliet were cleaning up after dinner. Shawn was still surprised how easily he and Juliet were able to fit into each other's lives. Even cleaning up went smoothly, neither person getting in the others way, as if it was a choreographed dance. They had a rule against discussing work over dinner, so this was the first chance he had to talk to Juliet about the cases.

"So Jules," he said, rinsing the last plate, "were you able to get a confession out of the neighbor?"

She was putting the leftovers away in the fridge. She turned and looked at him in surprise. "How did you know about that case?"

He brought his hand to his head. "I'm a psychic Jules, remember? I'm also sensing Lassie wasn't pleased about the confession." He looked to her for confirmation as he started drying the dishes.

She shook her head. "I am still amazed by what you can do sometimes." She crossed behind him and grabbed a second towel. As she reached for a plate, she continued. "As a matter of fact he did confess, and Carlton did seem rather upset over it, which is surprising considering how much he wanted to put this case to bed." Beside her, he hid a smile, glad that his hunch had been correct. "He was even more upset when the Chief gave us the Sanders case." She looked at Shawn proudly. "Apparently our resident psychic had a vision it was murder."

The Chief had called a couple of hours after he left the station. Most of the bottles only showed a single set of fingerprints, matching the victim. However, the mislabeled bottles also showed a second, unknown set of prints, causing the chief to believe he was right and someone had tampered with those bottles.

He put the last plate away and turned to Juliet. "I can't help what the spirit world decides to tell me. They had information to share about the Sanders case and who am I to ignore that?" He gave her a helpless look.

She rolled her eyes. "I'm just glad you're on the case," she said, leading the way into the living room. "It means we get to work together." They sat on the couch next to each other. As he reached for the remote, she said, "Besides, you haven't had any cases in over two weeks."

"Yeah, it has been rather slow lately," he agreed, turning on the TV. He started flipping through channels, looking for something good to watch. "It seems things are picking up again. We even got a case this morning at Psych."

"Really?" she asked, looking interested. "What about?"

He paused on a cop drama. After a few seconds he said, "It was the landlord," and continued flipping channels. To Juliet, he said, "A girl came in wanting us to find out who her birth father is. Seems her mother is very tight lipped about him and won't tell her anything. She thought a psychic might be able to track him down. Ooo, Jaws." He stopped flipping channels as he came across the classic film.

Juliet frowned. "That doesn't seem like a case you would typically take," she said slowly. "What did Gus have to say about it?"

He snorted. "What do you think? He was against it. Especially since she's only fifteen and I don't think she can pay us."

"Then why did you take the case?" she asked quizzically.

He sighed, fiddling with the remote. "There was just something about her," he said, not able to meet Juliet's eyes. "She was clearly very upset about something, though she hid it well. Finding her father seemed very important to her. I figured I should at least see what I can find. I just couldn't turn her away." He could feel himself blushing slightly from embarrassment.

Juliet surprised him by leaning over and giving him a kiss. He looked at her in confusion when she pulled away. "What was that for?"

"For agreeing to help her," she said, looking him in the eyes. "For being the kind of man who would help a complete stranger because it was the right thing to do." She gave him another kiss before turning back to the television.

They watched the movie silently for a few moments. "Jules" he said quietly. She turned to look at him. "I. . ." He cleared his throat, unsure what to say. "Thanks," he said lamely.

She leaned in closer. "No problem." They stared at each other, the tension building, before Shawn leaned in and kissed her.

Her lips were soft and moist. He ran his tongue lightly along them, earning a soft moan. He fumbled with the remote, eventually managing to turn the TV off. Throwing it on the table, he pulled Juliet closer to him, deepening the kiss. He cupped her face with his hand, fingers curling in her hair, while the other caressed her side. She responded by straddling him, pushing him back into the couch. She nipped playfully at his bottom lip before leaving a trail of kisses along his jawline. "I'll have to take hopeless cases more often," he panted. "Especially if this is how you're going to respond." He gasped as Juliet bit his earlobe.

"No more talking," she purred into his ear. She ran her hands down his chest as she kissed him again, delving her tongue into his mouth. His tongue curled around hers as he ran his fingers through her hair. Breaking the kiss, she grasped the edges of his shirt and lifted it over his head. She ran her hands lightly over his bare skin, kissing along his collarbone. He groaned, pulling her up into another kiss. His hand snaked under her shirt, reaching up to cup a breast. She whimpered into his mouth before pulling away.

"Bedroom?" he asked breathlessly. She nodded, giving his lip one last nip before standing up. She gave him a seductive look before sauntering out of the room towards the bedroom. He took a second to catch his breath before rising up off the couch and following her.

The bedroom door slammed shut behind him.

I'd love to hear what you think, especially those few who read the original. I'm always open to suggestions or criticism.