Author's Note: Wow, thanks for all the reviews so far. This was originally just going to be a oneshot of Shawn chatting up Sarah in the Orange Orange, but then people started following the story and inspiring me to turn it into something bigger... I've finally got most (but not all, there are still some surprises in store, even for me!) of the story laid out in my head - now I just need to find the time to write it all out (which may take me a while - I start grad school tomorrow, so my life is about to get very busy). I'm so psyched (pun intended) that you guys are enjoying what I've written! :-)

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"Ni hao, Míngzi jiào Chuck..." the man continued to babble on for a bit in what appeared to be Chinese, "that means, 'hi my name is Chuck and I'll be your server this evening. Can I start you with anything to drink?'"

"Showoff." Casey growled through Chuck's earbud. "Spare me the theatrics, have you flashed on anything yet?" Chuck had not flashed, not on Shawn nor on any of the other patrons of the restaurant, and the fact that he still had that ever-present goofy grin plastered across his face told Casey as much.

"Impressive. I'm sensing you didn't just memorize that for the job. You actually speak Chinese." Shawn said with respect in his voice. It was all Greek to him, but Shawn could recognize the inflections and speed of a native speaker when he heard one.

"Well, uh, I guess I do." Chuck shrugged in a manner suggesting that the words which had just come out of his mouth were as much a surprise to him as anyone else. "Wait, what do you mean by 'sensing'?"

Shawn stuck out his hand. "Shawn Spencer, head psychic for the SBPD. I'm also a foot model. 2005 Mode Winter Edition, page 98, fourth snow boot from the left, that's me!"

"Nice to meet you Shawn. And uh, I'm Chuck. Just Chuck. Well, Charles, but my friends call me Chuck. Anyways, can I start you guys with anything to drink?"

"One pineapple juice please."

"I'm sorry, I don't think we have pineapple juice. Anything else?" Chuck, of course, had no idea whether the Bamboo Dragon carried pineapple juice, but it wasn't his job to find out.

"Just water." piped up Sarah, who had been silent through this entire exchange.

"Alright, I'm on it." With that, Chuck scampered off into the bowels of the restaurant, allegedly to fetch their drinks.

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"Casey, I've got nothing. Not one little itty-bitty flash. Not on Shawn, not on any of the waitresses or any other guests, nothing!" Chuck whispered into his watch.

"Well, maybe he's clean. It's possible that this weirdo is exactly who he says he is - a drifter with one hell of a résumé. Just get them their food and keep your eyes open for anything fishy, so we can wrap this up and go home." Casey sighed. What a waste of an evening.

"Casey, is that disappointment I hear in your voice? Big, bad Casey is sad that he doesn't get to chase after any baddies tonight?" Chuck teased playfully over the intercom.

"Shut up, Bartowski."

So Chuck did. He bumbled through the rest of the evening, trying his best to remain inconspicuous despite being only white male server in a sea of Asian waitresses, and he somehow managed to only break two dishes - dishes which, unfortunately for Chuck, were not empty, though he would soon find that this was the least of his worries.

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Meanwhile, back at the table, Sarah was sipping her water alone, as Shawn had excused himself to use the "little boy's room." As soon as Sarah was out of earshot, Shawn pulled out his iPhone and called everybody's favorite pharmaceutical salesman.

"Hey Shawn, date over already?"

"No man, actually just getting started. But something's weird about her. You know that guy I saw her with at the Buy More? He's our waiter."

"What? I mean, that is a pretty big coincidence, but tons of people work two jobs, Shawn. You think she brought you to this restaurant because he works there?"

"I dunno, Gus. Something's up, and I can't quite put my finger on it. I don't think Sarah came on this date with me because she was attracted by my boyish charms and sculpted physique."

"Shawn, you don't have a sculpted... what are you saying?"

"Aw, I dunno. There's just something up with this girl. I'm sensing some serious disturbances in her aura."

"I know you're not psychic, Shawn. What aren't you telling me?"

"I think she has a knife."

"Whoa, there, Shawn. Please tell me you mean like a butter knife, or that you think it's kind of weird that you're in a Chinese restaurant and she can't use chopsticks so she asked for a knife. Please tell me that you don't mean a knife-knife."

"No, I'm pretty sure she has a knife-knife. Heh, that's kind of a funny word - knife-knife." Shawn let out a half-hearted giggle.

"Shawn, you need to get out of there. Now."

"But I haven't even had a chance to try the sizzling shrimp yet! Look, I don't want you to worry about me. I'll find out what she's up to, have a delicious dinner, and I'll see you at the Psych office tomorrow morning. Promise."

"Okay, Shawn. But I think you should at least call Lassiter and Juliet."

"Don't be a frumpy pumpkin, Gus. You know Burbank's out of their jurisdiction. Anyways, gotta head back now or Sarah will think I'm making a numero dos."

And with a click, Shawn was gone, leaving a very worried Gus alone staring up at a muted TV screen. Somehow, watching American Duos didn't seem so appealing anymore. Thank God for TiVo.