After Shawn made his way back to the table, the unlikely couple had a surprisingly uneventful dinner. No flashes were seen, no weapons were drawn, and only a few psychic observations were made, some of them more insightful than others.

"So, Sarah... tell me, what did you do before you worked at the Orange Orange?"

"Promise you won't laugh?" If she told him about her last mission off the coast of Argentina, he definitely wouldn't laugh - but then again, if she told him that, she'd have to kill him.

"Promise."

"Well, my most recent job was making hot dogs at the Wienerlicious."

"The Wienerlic..." Shawn started to giggle uncontrollably. "Wienerlicious!" More laughing. "I'm so sorry, it's just I was gearing myself up to make some kind of wisecrack about whatever you were about to tell me, but with a name like that, I really don't have to."

"Tell me about it." Sarah sighed.

"Say, this Wienerlicious wouldn't have happened to be located where the Orange Orange is now, would it?"

"How did you know that?" Was he feeling her out again? Teasing her? What did he know? Even though Casey and Chuck hadn't turned up anything useful, Sarah still had her suspicions.

"Psychic, remember?" Shawn flashed a winning smile. He could see in his mind's eye the outline of where the hotdog-shaped sign had been removed and plastered over with smaller lettering for the yogurt shop as clearly as if it were right in front of him.

Sarah poked uneasily at the remains of her meal.

"Right, of course." Sarah laughed. "You'll have to excuse me for being a bit of a skeptic, but how does all of this psychic stuff work, exactly?"

"Your guess is as good as mine. The spirit world works in mysterious ways. And apparently not at all during the Superbowl - I didn't get a single vibe or vision the entire time! I think the spirits were all too busy watching the game. Who knew football was so popular up there?"

"Wow, you really are something else." Just what, exactly, was the question that Sarah couldn't quite put her finger on.

"Here, let me do another demo. Garçon!" Chuck nearly lost his balance as he spun around to answer Shawn's call.

"Yes?" Chuck gingerly set down the full tray of dishes he was carrying.

"Your aura was distracting me." Shawn stood up, and began poking and prodding at the empty air surrounding Chuck. "There's something very... how do I put this? ...heavily charged, about it. I'm seeing sparks, connections! Keyboards and screens... you know your way around a computer, don't you?"

"Yeah, I guess you could say that." Chuck smiled sheepishly.

"But wait, there's more. I'm sensing something else. More sparks, more connections... but different this time. You two..." Shawn looked at Sarah, then back at Chuck. "...you two have definitely met before."

"What? I've never seen her before in my life!" Chuck replied, perhaps a little too quickly.

"Ah, well. Must have been in a past life then." Shawn shrugged. Something was definitely going on with these two. "Anyways, can we get the check?"

"Sure thing." Chuck hurriedly handed over the bill, and then scampered to deliver the food he had been carrying to the next table over, who had now been waiting for some time. Shawn quickly grabbed for the check.

"Dinner's on me. Or rather, on my friend Gus." Shawn waved the borrowed credit card, looked up at Sarah's quizzical stare, and then shoved it back in his wallet. "Nah, I'm just kidding. I'm just holding onto this for him so he doesn't spend too much. He has a thing for pants, you see. Fancy pants." Shawn chortled to himself as he began dumping out the contents of his wallet onto the table, which resulted in a small mountain of small-denomination bills and coins, as well as a substantial pile of pocket lint and one very very tiny kazoo.

As Shawn began to count his change, his thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a dish crashing to the ground and shattering behind him. Chuck stood over it, startled, and then quickly continued to serve his customers again, using a particularly heavily laden dish to temporarily shield his face.

"Casey, this is Chuck. Do you hear me? I just flashed. I just flashed... on his money."

That was all Casey needed to hear. Within seconds he was at the window of the Bamboo Dragon with a long-range tranq gun aimed directly at Shawn Spencer's neck. The last thing Shawn heard before he blacked out was the sound of a second dish shattering into a million pieces.