A/N: I know I've been MIA for a while (thank you, AP classes), but I've been working on this little baby for a while now. Oh, and since all I know about the investigation process is what I've learned from TV, feel free to give me insight if I've gotten anything wrong.

1989

Henry Spencer answered the doorbell and found a blonde, pig-tailed little girl standing with her mother on the doorstep. The girl seemed rather shy, as she hadn't looked up from the ground since Henry opened the door.

"Can I help you with something?"

The woman encouragingly nudged her daughter. The little girl looked up timidly. "I wanted to ask if Shawn would go to the spring dance with me." she said, pink flushing into her cheeks.

Henry grinned as he glanced back into the house. Eleven-year-old Shawn had overheard the conversation and was desperately mouthing, "No, no!"

"Actually, Shawn isn't here, but I'll be sure to let him know you asked." Henry said to the girl. He looked on as the mother and daughter walked away, and Shawn sighed with relief. Henry closed the door.

"What's the matter with you?" he scolded his son. "Some deranged little girl actually likes you, and you're going to turn her down?"

"Dad, I'm not going to a dance, especially with her."

"Why not?"

"Because girls are gross," Shawn said, wrinkling his nose as if he couldn't imagine how his father didn't know.

Henry chuckled. "All right, Shawn. You may think that now, but you'll start thinking differently when you're older."

Shawn waited until his dad left the room to mutter to himself. "If that's going to happen, I'll never grow up!"

~P~

"It's not just a hotdog, Shawn." Gus insisted.

"Gus, no hot dog is just a hotdog," Shawn contended. "It's the blended rejects of a bunch of animal parts. I don't know why we even eat them."

The two of them were walking down a monstrous stone driveway that led to an equally elaborate mansion. A couple of police cars sat outside. Shawn and Gus walked up the steps in sync.

"This hotdog is injected with three types of cheese and meat sauce, Shawn. It's delicious."

Shawn paused. "Well, you've got me there."

As they entered the living room, Shawn could hear a high-pitched, internal squeal from his best friend, and for a good reason. There in the middle of a floor was the body of the house's owner. He'd obviously been stabbed several times, and there was blood splattered all over the floor and furniture.

"What's the lowdown here, Jules?" Shawn asked the detective.

Juliet scanned her notepad. "Norman Conway, businessman and millionaire. He's been stabbed to death apparently, but we've yet to find the weapon. The door was unlocked, and the mailman found him."

"So why are we here?" Shawn asked.

"A question I often ask myself," Detective Lassiter commented from a few feet away. Juliet ignored him.

"Mr. Conway was known for being exceptionally generous and charitable, especially to his employees." she went on. "Besides that, he was also extremely paranoid after a break-in a few months ago. He installed a security system, but it never went off, and there was no sign of a forced entry. There's also a video camera outside the door, but the film's been erased."

"I'm still not getting why you need us." Shawn reiterated.

"Since there was no sign of forced entry, Conway must've known who it was and let them in. He has little family, but they all have alibis. But he does have a lot of employees."

"Are we getting to part where you need us?"

"The chief thinks it'll be easier for you to solve the murder psychically than for us to interrogate all of them." Juliet explained.

Shawn looked around. He saw the wilting plant in the corner, the messily glued chip on the kitchen counter. He remembered the flowers lining the driveway — they were impeccable. "Wait a minute, I'm getting something." Shawn said, squinting his eyes and raising a hand to his temple. "There's someone else. Does Conway have a gardener?"

"No, but he does have a maintenance man," Juliet replied. "But he doesn't have a motive."

"But does he have an alibi?"

"Not an air-tight one," Lassiter pointed out. "We'll check it out."

~P~

"I didn't kill anybody, I swear!"

Conway's maintenance man, John Marsh, sat at the table in the interrogation room, opposite Juliet and Lassiter. He was wearing a navy jumpsuit, which was probably the cleanest part of him. His grayish-brown hair hung to his shoulders in greasy strands. A gruesome goatee surrounded his mouth.

"Gus," Shawn said from behind the one-way glass. "He looks kind of like that hobo we saw outside of the doughnut shop."

"That wasn't a hobo, Shawn. That was the cashier on break."

"Well, that explains the apron."

"Mr. Conway was the nicest boss I ever had. The pay was good, the vacations were good… Why would I want to kill him?" Marsh continued.

"That's exactly what we're here to find out." Lassiter said. "Your wife said you were with her yesterday, but it wasn't your day off. How do you explain that?"

"I was sick. I called Mr. Conway, and he gave me the day off."

"How convenient. The day of his murder, you just happen to call in sick."

"Look, I just had a stroke of luck. If I had been at work that day, you might be putting two people in body bags."

"That's too big of a coincidence." Shawn commented. "I need to get in there."

"Shawn, you can't just interrupt an interrogation. Shawn! Where are you going?" Gus ran after him, though he knew he wasn't going to stop him.

Shawn burst into the interrogation room, eyes closed, waving around crazily. "I'm getting something here…something fishy…or is it minty?"

"Spencer, get the hell out of here." Lassiter ordered, but Shawn didn't seem to have heard him.

"I'm getting…Stabler and Benson."

"Law and Order?" Juliet offered.

Shawn waved his hand around, letting it rest on Gus's head. Gus smacked it away.

"Now I'm getting…Ponch and Jon,"

"CHiPs?" Marsh pitched in.

"Partners!" Gus cried.

"Yes! Partners! I'm sensing that…" Shawn opened his eyes and pointed directly at Marsh. "You had a partner."

Marsh's eyes widened.

"That's how you knew not to go to work yesterday, isn't it?"

"L-listen, I didn't plan anything against Mr. Conway! I got a call telling me not to go to work, or else. They wouldn't tell me who they were, but I wasn't about to ignore them."

"That's very interesting…" Shawn slid into the seat across from Marsh. "I just have one more very important question for you. Do you now or have you ever worked at a doughnut shop?"

"Shawn!"

~P~