Disclaimer: I don't own Psych, nor any places, things, characters, or ideas therein. They belong to Steve Franks and the USA Network. I am claiming no ownership of any of the aforementioned items, and am making no monetary gain from this story in any way, shape, or form.
Summary: "Well, it's no ring in a champagne glass, but I wouldn't have it any other way." A spirited disagreement turns into utter bliss for Shawn and Juliet. Short Shules fluffy piece.
Warning: A kiss
Author's Note: I'm subscribed to the word-of-the-day on dictionarydotcom, and I usually write a little one-shot for each word, though I usually don't post them. This one popped up, and Mama Jo immediately connected its meaning with what Shawn does. After she said that, well, this little gem popped into my head. It's been a long time since I wrote for the Psych fandom, so please forgive me if I'm a little rusty. Thank you so much for checking this fic out, and I hope you enjoy it!
Satori: The state of sudden indescribable intuitive enlightenment.
"Seriously?" Shawn Spencer stared, agape, at the woman sitting across the table from him.
Juliet O'Hara's cheeks flushed a rather becoming shade of rose. "Shawn…"
"No! You started it, now you have to finish it. It's like when you make your bed, you have to lie on it. Or is it in it? When you have your cake, you have to eat it, too. Wait, no, is that right?" Shawn smiled when he was rewarded by Juliet's bell-like laughter.
"All right, all right." Shaking her head, the blonde detective curled her hands around her cup, fingertips tapping lightly against the plastic surface. "I just happen to think strawberry shakes are slightly creamier than pineapple ones."
Flopping back in his chair, Shawn threw up his hands in disbelief. "How can you say that, Jules? How? Pineapple is like - like - the liquid gold of creamy drinks."
"I'm not saying I don't like pineapple, Shawn. I just think that strawberries are a fruit more naturally suited to shakes. They're smaller, and softer. Mushier."
"Mushier?" He blinked down at his own drink, gazing at the small chopped-up pieces of fresh pineapple inside. "Pineapple can be mushy."
"When it's overripe," Juliet pointed out. "Fact is, strawberries blend well into the texture of the milkshake, and pineapples just kind of - sit there. As lumps."
"You don't like pineapple?" Shawn said, pouting slightly.
The corners of Juliet's lips quirked upwards. "I didn't say that. I like pineapple. Just - not in milkshakes."
"All right. Okay." Shawn rubbed his hand across his mouth, a nervous gesture. Just when he'd thought he had her figured out…
"What - what is this?"
His head snapped up at Juliet's puzzled question, watching anxiously as she poked her straw down into the last dregs of her milkshake. "What - is…" She trailed off her, eyes going wide. For a moment she stared, open-mouthed, into her cup. Then she hooked her straw around something and pulled it out, nestling it into her napkin so she could wipe it off.
Shawn held his breath.
Juliet lifted her eyes to him, her mouth opening and closing soundlessly. Finally she gulped, audibly, and whispered, "Shawn…?"
This was his time. Lifting his hands to the sides of his head, he wiggled his fingers slightly. "I'm sensing that a spirit visiting the lovely lady who made our milkshakes, and told her to put that in the strawberry one. Yes - she did so, knowing it was very important, knowing that there was someone here today who wanted to propose to his girlfriend. Yes." Lowering his hands, Shawn swiftly slid off the bench and went to kneel next to Juliet's seat on one knee. Then he smiled softly and whispered, "Will you marry me, Jules?"
Tears welled up in her expressive eyes, then trailed down her flushed cheeks. She'd pressed her hand to her mouth at some point during his proposal, the ring still clutched between her thumb and index fingers. Juliet nodded once, a jerky movement, then whispered from behind her hand, "Yes."
Shawn stood up, pulling Juliet with him. He slid the now-clean ring on to her finger, then lowered his lips to hers as everyone else on the patio of Angie's Creamery burst into enthusiastic applause.
When they finally pulled apart, Juliet buried her face in his chest and mumbled, "It's no ring in a champagne glass, Shawn, but I would have wanted nothing else."
Resting his chin on top of her head, Shawn closed his eyes as the wonderful assurance that there was nowhere else he'd rather be, and no one else he'd rather be there with, wrapped around him.