At the Psych office [OTA]

[psych_outshawn]

Having your own place of work (where you were your own boss, you set your own hours, and your own payscale) had its advantages, Shawn thought. Not just because the the above, but also because he got to choose which fine beverages would nestle in the 'company' fridge. So he stood right in front of the open fridge door, cans and bottles clinking

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[jd_jules]

Juliet found herself standing in front of some store called Psych, staring at it like she should know what it was, but didn't. As far as she was concerned, she was supposed to be on her way to school, but this did not look like Miami. It didn't feel like Miami. It was actually freezing cold and despite her better judgement Juliet pulled open the door to the building and hurried inside. She just wanted to get inside somewhere warm.

When the heat flooded her t-shirt-and-skirt-wearing body she sighed. At least it was warm in here. She reached behind her into the side of her backpack and pulled out her emergency bag package of Frosted Strawberry Pop-Tarts. She was too busy peeling the silver foil off of the breakfast food to notice what the store was or if there was anyone in it.

[psych_outshawn]

Shawn was still checking around the strange place, but it did seem kinda familiar. It was full of stuff he dreamed about owning when he grew up. The door opening caught his attention, and he immediately froze, thinking up all kinda of excuses to explain why he was there.

Instead, he saw that the new arrival was just some dumb little girl.

Who had Pop-Tarts.

And he saw a toaster in the back. Oh, geez. She wasn't gonna eat those cold, was she?

"Um...hi?"

[jd_jules]

She looked up from what she was doing and saw a boy who was sort of cute if boys weren't gross and were always making noise from some place on their body. Her brothers were always doing that and it was gross.

"..hi." Juliet looked at the boy warily. Was he supposed to be here or was he hiding from the freak cold-snap too. She thought she better play it safe. "..You're not going to tell on me, are you?"

[psych_outshawn]

He pointed to the silver package in the girl's hand. "If you share a Pop-Tart with me, I won't tell." He started to fidget, already imagining the taste of warm, sweet, fruity filling and suddenly realizing he was a little hungry. "I know where there's a toaster."

[jd_jules]

Juliet looked at the package of Pop-Tarts. It seemed like a reasonable trade off. It wasn't like he was asking for both of them. "Alright." She stepped further inside. "Toasted Pop-Tarts are better than not-toasted anyways." But she thought both were equally as good. She pulled out one of the Pop-Tarts and held it out to the boy. "I'm Juliet."

[psych_outshawn]

He snatched the Pop-Tart out of her hand with the alert dexterity of a squirrel being offered a nut. "My name's Shawn. C'mon. I think I saw a toaster in the other room." He made no attempt to stretch out his hand for Juliet to hold. Ew. Ew. Ew. Ew. Ew.

Oh, and ew.

[jd_jules]

She wouldn't have taken his hand either because he was probably squishing bugs with it or something before she came in. It was something else her brothers did a lot. They were mean to bugs and to her cat Shingles.

Juliet followed though because he promised a toaster. "Are you even allowed back here?" There didn't seem to be adults around, but still.

[psych_outshawn]

"Yeah." He said it in two, almost three syllables. Yee-aa-aah. And he might have made a pffft sound. He slipped into the back room, walked past the coffee machine and the food dehydrator and the EZ-Bake Oven (which would be helpful, but he wanted the Pop-Tarts toasted in minutes, not days). And there, on the end, was a toaster, a classically styled one made for two slices at a time. Perfect. He dropped his Tart into the slot and held his hand out towards Juliet.

Juliet. That's hard to say. Too many syllables.

"Okay, gimme yours," he said, fingers bending.

[jd_jules]

Juliet followed and made a face because it sounded like maybe Shawn wasn't supposed to be back here, but he sounded like he knew what he was doing and a toasted Pop-Tart was too tempting anyways. If an adult came in, she'd just blame it all on Shawn.

She hesitated for a second and then handed her Tart over to Shawn. She'd better get it back. When she handed custody of the Pop-Tart over to Shawn, Juliet went over to inspect the Easy Bake Oven, poking it and peering into one of the slits. "Is this yours?"

[psych_outshawn]

He stared at the Oven. It was something he wanted for a really long time, because cooking with a light bulb sounded really really cool. Except Santa never seemed to get the memo, and Shawn was determined to ask one final time for one. "Yeah," he answered.

He dropped Juliet's Pop-Tart in the other slot and set the toaster for the 'pastry' setting. After pushing the lever down, he casually leaned against the counter. "Yeah. In fact...in fact this whole place is mine." He was pretty sure it was.

[jd_jules]

Juliet was trying to get a good look at the light bulb inside the machine. "Isn't this a girl toy?" She didn't know that many boys who wanted to play with an Esay Bake Oven.

She stood up and looked at him with her head cocked to the side suspiciously. "You own this place?"

[psych_outshawn]

Well, yeah, considering it was pink and purple and pink, it might be a girl toy. Shawn simply shrugged. He would've mentioned something about being secure in his masculinity, but at eleven years old, he didn't have much of one to be secure about.

He crossed his arms on his chest and beamed. "Actually? I think it's my Dad's, but since he's not here? And I'm his son? It's all pretty much mine."

[jd_jules]

"I don't think it works like that." Juliet shook her head, but she wasn't sure really how that sort of thing worked so maybe Shawn was right. "If this is yours.. then what's this place do?"

[psych_outshawn]

"Yeah-huh," Shawn said, nodding vigorously. "In my family, it does. We're like...um...special and our family goes back before Santa Barbara was even a city. Um, it goes back to when the Mexicans first founded it. And my family came from a long way to the north. Really high up. Canada somewhere. Yeah. So, like, Canadians have different ways of owning stuff than Americans. It's like based on Eskimo law or something. Whatever the father owns also belongs to the eldest son. And that's me."

Shawn was about to answer Juliet's question (Juliet, Juliet...he could totally make that name smaller) when the toaster helpfully popped. He grabbed Juliet's Pop-Tart and handed it back to her. "Caution, filling is hot," he intoned, grabbing his own. He immediately chomped down on it, and gasped. The filling was hot! Nuclear hot! He quickly munched with his mouth open to get as much cool air as possible. And while he was burning his tongue and the insides of his cheeks, he dared not show any weakness in front of the girl

[jd_jules]

The entire time Shawn went on about Canada and Eskimos, Juliet's face was getting more and more skeptical. She didn't really know what Canadians were like, but something in the back of her head told her his explaination was flawed somehow. The Pop-Tart distracted her from pointing this out.

She took the warm pastry and broke off a corner piece. She always ate the outside edges first to let the inside cool down. Juliet giggled at Shawn as she chewed on her own Pop-Tart with a lot less effort. He might be a boy, but he was funny. "Are you okay?"

[psych_outshawn]

Hothothothothothothothothothothot! His eyes were starting to water from the burning pain in his mouth, and he thought that maybe he was starting to blister. Maybe.

"I'm fine!" he squeaked out. "Are you?" He needed milk. Milk would be the best thing. Yeah, milk. "I'm totally fine. I just need...something...to...drink." He rushed to the fridge, rummaged through it until he found the milk carton...

And gulped its contents down.

And promptly spit it out on the floor, stared at the carton's label.

"Buttermilk? Who buys buttermilk?!"