I wrote this, and then promptly forgot to update. Luckily, I found it on my hard drive.

As Beatles fans will know, Abbey Road doesn't end with "The End." There's a tacked on little 23 second ditty called "Her Majesty."

So I just intended this to be a little P.S. to the story. And then the Beatles will break up. :(

"What is that?"

It's almost a week after their honeymoon before Shawn and Juliet finally have time to finish opening all of the wedding cards and presents.

Juliet, holding the object of Shawn's question, shrugs with a laugh. "I have no idea. It looks like it could almost be a bottle opener… maybe."

"Yeah, but what's that little part there? What does that do?"

Juliet's just as confused as Shawn. "I haven't the slightest idea. Who's this from?"

Shawn looks at the card. "Your Aunt Mildred."

"Ahh," Juliet gives the object another wary look. "That gave me no hint whatsoever."

"I've got it!" Shawn jumps to his feet, grabs the object, and rushes to the door, jamming it under. "A doorstop!"

Juliet laughs, impressed. "That almost works."

She contemplates the new doorstop thoughtfully as Shawn returns to his seat at the table. "Okay, we'll just have to put something vague in her card. What about, 'Thank you for your thoughtful present'?"

"Thanks for the weird gadget," Shawn pretends to read aloud as he writes. "Even as a psychic detective I have no idea what it is. Next time give the gift of cash."

Juliet slaps his arm playfully, then reaches over just to make sure that he hasn't actually written that.

"Juuuuuules," Shawn whines, rubbing at his arm. "Isn't it time we switched? I'm getting carpal tunnel here."

Letting out a good-natured groan, Juliet switches places. Shawn gleefully approaches the other table, contemplating the few remaining gifts. He picks a medium-sized box, beautifully wrapped in gold paper, silver ribbon, and a huge bow.

"There isn't a card on this one," he announces, tearing into the paper. "It's probably inside."

Juliet laughs at his child-on-Christmas-morning enthusiasm. Her cell rings and she answers it, her eyes still on Shawn. "Hey, Lassiter," she greets cheerfully. "You know, technically this is still my honeymoon, so I'm sure whatever you're calling about can wa-" she's silenced as her partner interrupts her, urgency in his gruff tone.

Across the room, once freed from decoration, the lid of the box lifts easily. Shawn peers into the container's depths. A shiver runs down his back, his stomach knots, and all the little hairs on his body stand to attention.

Juliet, meanwhile, is having the same reaction to Lassiter's call.

"Jules," Shawn says, and she's instantly at his side, phone still at her ear.

"Please tell me it's just another breadmaker," she whispers.

It's not.

The box is empty save for two small items.

The first is their wedding invitation, with extra writing etched in the margins. Shawn reads it out loud without picking it up. "Hope you enjoyed your honeymoon. Time to play again! P.S. I wasn't sure where you were registered."

Next to the paper is a silver stopwatch with "The Spencers" engraved across the top.

The numbers are already counting down.