That Thing I Do! (RP for copyseverything)

[dial_a_psychic]

In less than a week at Sterling Cooper, Shawn had practically turned into the unofficial new partner of the firm. In fact, he had even rented a little sign with his surname to add under the agency's name at the lobby. Sterling Copper Spencer. That was what Shawn called symmetric class

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[copyseverything]

Nothing really changed when he went away. The dramas were all the same and if he cared to catch up with them, a morning spent in the break room and an afternoon spent in a bar with Roger would be all he needed. The people he walked past all greeted him the same as he headed towards his office.

... Only they didn't... A few started exchanging amused looks with each other, and Don could catch Kinsey's amusement from the other side of the room. If there's oxen in his office he's going to turn around and walk straight back out again until they've airred the place out. It's not comforting how flustered his secretary is, he doesn't even understand half the words she says as he walks past her desk to his door.

... "Who the hell are you?"

[dial_a_psychic]

Shawn didn't missed the noises, the whispers or the fumbling that came from outside his still not official new office. People were nervous about something, his not yet official secretary was specially nervous about something.

There could only be a reason behind that. Either Castro had taken over the building on the name of Cuba or...

"Donny!" Shawn said cheerfully, opening his arms but not moving his butt an inch off his not yet official chair. "The spirits were expecting you to arrive at least a day ago! What happened?"

[copyseverything]

Don pauses in the doorway for a moment, staring at the man sitting at his desk. This is a joke, right? Something clever that he's not quite getting yet, he glances over his shoulder at the see of faces behind him. A few people look away, pretending to be busy, but most don't have the sense not to be obvious.

"I don't know who put you up to this, or how much they're paying you," he walks over to the couch and puts his bag down by the table, "but jokes over, very funny. I'm going to go for five minutes and when I get back I expect you will be gone."

[dial_a_psychic]

"Dude, it's no joke. Well, the pattern of the kimono might be it, but it's a gift from Bert and I simply couldn't say no." He says as he raises an arm and waves the sleeve of the robe.

"My name is Shawn Spencer, I'm the director of the Prophetic Ads Department and the Head of the Feng Shui one." He striked a pose, touching his temple with his fingertips. "We're office buddies!"

[copyseverything]

He looks at this guy sideways, still not ready to take him seriously. He better not be serious... He doesn't even know what some of those words mean.

"Look. I don't know who's paying you for this, but they obviously don't know me as well as they probably lead you to believe. I don't like in-office pranks. I come to work, to work, and if I have to fetch security to eject you, I will."

[dial_a_psychic]

"Actually, you do know who pays me to share your office, Donnie. "

Shawn lowers his arms and clamps his hands together, resting them over his stomach as he leans back on the leather chair. He must be the perfect image of being relaxed while someone tries to ditch you out of your shared office.

"Bert and Roger? You know, Laurel and Hardy in the advertising world? The guys with the prettiest office in the 23th floor of this building? Chillax. I can promise you that I can totally make this office look twice as good as their offices combined!"

[copyseverything]

He's still not convinced, but he is getting a little worried now. Roger, he could believe might think this kind of joke is funny, and it wouldn't even matter to him if Don disagrees. It wouldn't matter to him if this guy ended up leave via the office window. But Mr Cooper.... Admittedly the Oriental touches are very like him, but he's never seemed the practical joke kind of man.

"We're not sharing an office. Look," he gestures around the room with his palm, "there's only one desk here, and it's mine."

[dial_a_psychic]

"Did you missed kindergarten or something? First, you know what people say. Finders-Keepers. Second, you need to learn to share, Donald Duck!" Shawn extends his palm towards the advertising man, moving it up and down while he covers his eyes with his other hand.

"Yes, I can sense that your level of un-sharing is pretty high, which is screwed up for the soul." He drops his hands and once more leans back on the comfortable chair. "I'll tell you what, we can order a jacuzzi for two."

[copyseverything]

"No." He steps forward, gesturing with his own finger now. This is starting to wear thin and he's getting a headache from all the strange things this guy is saying and doing. He's smelt the kind of smoke that comes out from under Kinsey's door, this man has something to do with him.

"My name is on the door and this is my office. It was never lost to be found by anyone other than myself in the first place."

[dial_a_psychic]

Shawn leans forward, his stomach over the desk as he reaches for Don's pen holder. He plays with the pens, picking one to doodle over his palm.

Suddenly, he cranes his neck up, his eyes go wide as if he had just acknowleged the presence of the other man in the room.

"Sorry, you were saying something?"

[copyseverything]

He opens his mouth to reply, but pauses and shakes his head. Putting his hands in his pockets, he walks over to the desk, then picks up the phone and presses for the secretary to answer him.

"Tell Mr Sterling I want to see him in my office right away."

Then he hangs up, leans over the desk to snatch his pen from the man's hand. Grabbing his notepad he walks back over to the couch and sits down with it, his body twisted away from the desk.

[dial_a_psychic]

"You sure you want to interrupt my good buddy Roger?"

Shawn wheels himself across the room, right next to Don's couch.

"I mean, by now he must be perfectioning my Indoors Mini Golf technique while probably enjoying his second cocktail of the day." He closes his eyes, touching his forehead for a beat. "Scratch that, I can see a third drink already."

[copyseverything]

He tries to ignore him. That was his new plan. Treat him the same as he would any other annoying insect that he can't quite crush under his shoe.

At the same time, he can feel the annoyance worrying away at his brain. He can't think of a single line, not a phrase nor slogan. Maybe he's a parasite, like the time Polly got worms and wouldn't put on weight. And then Sally got worms too, and Betty said it wouldn't hurt for her to lose a little weight...

"What are you trying to do? Prove to me that you know Roger so well that you know how many drinks he has for breakfast? That's just common knowledge anyway, it proves nothing." He keeps his voice level, barely showing any sign of interest or engagement.

[dial_a_psychic]

"I just turned on channel 321 to psychically see what Roger was doing, no big deal." Shawn lifts his palms in an innocent manner. "But you're probably right, anyone can do that."

He doesn't need to prove this guy that he's a real psychic, not when he already has both owners of the firm as his best friends forever. But, even if he might not need it, it will surely be fun. Plus, there's no cable or internet. What else is he supposed to do?

"Having trouble there, man? Do you need Uncle Shawn to give you a hand with your homework?"