Word Count: 999
Chestnuts Resting on an Open Fire
When Juliet arrived at the Psych office the next day, the snowman she and Shawn had forced together was still standing, albeit a little slumped over. She was a little impressed.
Shawn threw the door open, beaming. "Merry Christmas, you beautiful woman!"
She smiled and greeted him with a kiss. "Are you going to tell me the plans now?" she asked, amused.
"Yes," Shawn said, looping an arm around her waist and holding her close. "Well, no. We're going somewhere first."
"Can I drive?" Shawn asked, clearly excited.
Jules handed him the keys, smiling as he took them and held onto her hand.
"Let's go," he said happily. He pulled her along and opened her car door, before running around to the driver's side. "I have to warn you, Jules, today might be a little bit too exciting for you."
Jules nodded. "Good. That's exactly what I expected of you."
Which of course made Shawn very smug, but she didn't mind. As they drove along, Shawn lectured Jules on the importance of vinegar in the creation of velvet cake, and complained about how Gus tried to make it without it the other day.
"Is that what you were arguing about yesterday?" Jules asked, smirking.
"No," Shawn said, shrugging. "We broke into fisticuffs about it on Monday, though. His recipe also needed more pineapple, but we agreed to disagree on that."
"Okay," Jules said, rolling her eyes. "I just know that when you and Gus fight, you both get really unhappy. And then complain about it. To me."
Shawn gasped, pretending to be hurt. "I never!"
"I thought you liked hearing about my day," Shawn said, pouting.
"I do," Jules agreed. "When your arguments with Gus are just…light antics. Shenanigans, if you will. But not when it's a full blown disagreement."
"We didn't even break into fisticuffs," Shawn protested. "Really, we aren't mad at each other. I haven't even complained to you!"
Jules raised an eyebrow, noting that Shawn had admitted to whining at her. She didn't bother to tell him that; she figured he knew, anyway. But if he wanted to play dumb…well.
"The fight with Gus is no big deal. Anyway, have you ever had roasted chestnuts? Especially the variety made over an open fire?" Shawn pulled into a parking spot at the beach.
Jules' mouth popped open. "You didn't!"
She punched his arm lightly. "You knew I wanted to do this—"
"I might have heard you mention it a few times," Shawn said, shrugging.
"I can't believe you!" Jules said, reaching over and kissing him.
He kissed her back quickly, but pulled away. "We have a little ways to walk," he said, by way of explanation. "I figured a little privacy from the usual crowd would be nice."
Not that there was much crowd there. It was colder on the beachfront and there was snow on the ground still. Still, the beach never had a completely empty day, and even now, surfers wearing thick wetsuits laughed as they came in from the water.
So Jules grabbed his hand while he slung a bag over his shoulder and pulled him with her toward the sand. She was more excited than she should have been over some roasted nuts, but every since she'd heard "The Christmas Song" as a child, she'd dreamed of doing it. And Shawn was helping her realize that dream. Her heart was pounding. As much as she loved the normal dates she and Shawn went on, there were moments, like this, where she realized all over again exactly how much he thought about her and what she wanted.
She kissed him again.
"Sweet Guster built a stack of firewood for us," Shawn explained when they reached the site he'd picked out.
"That was nice of him," she said.
"Yeaaah," Shawn drawled. He set about lighting the fire, and patted the ground next to him. "Sit down, m'lady!"
She did, eager. A little cold, she leaned into Shawn while he got the fire going. "I love fires," she told him.
"I know that about you, actually," Shawn teased. They watched the fire and added wood until it was the right height to roast the chestnuts.
"Want to hold the basket?" Shawn asked. He poured some chestnuts into the metal contraption and grinned at her.
"Of course," Jules replied, taking it from his hands and holding it dutifully over the fire. For several minutes, she watched the basket, mesmerized. Then she glanced at Shawn. "You're awfully quiet."
"Just thinking," he said, shrugging.
"About Gus," she guessed.
"No," Shawn said quickly, then scrunched up his face. "Kind of."
She waved a hand. "Let the complaining commence."
Shawn pretended to be affronted. "It's not a complaint, really. He was just looking through the bag I brought tonight, and demanded to know how I could plan to propose for the second time without telling my oldest and blackest friend."
"You didn't tell him?" And then Jules' brain caught up with Shawn had said. "Did you just—"
"No," Shawn said, rolling his eyes. "Now I am. Juliet O'Hara, I love you as more than Gus loves the Christina Aguilera cover of The Christmas Song, which is a lot, by the way. It's more than how much I love pineapple or how much Lassie hates women who don't wear bras in public. I love you so much that I want to spend every day of the rest of my life with you, and finally trade my motorcycle in for a car. Will you marry me?"
"Oh my—" She couldn't speak. She just pressed her free hand into her mouth, and pulled the chestnuts out of the fire.
Shawn showed her the ring, holding his breath nervously.
Finally she nodded, still dazed. The ring was beautiful, of course, but nothing could match the look in his eyes right now.
"Good," Shawn said, looking relieved. He slid the ring onto her finger. "Now let's eat chestnuts."
Disclaimer: I don't own Psych
A/N: Sequel to Send Over Shovel. It's not totally necessary to have read that one first, however. Written for the 25 Days of Ficmas (link on profile).