Fic: ‘Tis the Season: ‘tis the season to receive shocks (again)!
Title: ‘Tis the Season: ‘tis the season to receive shocks (again)!
Fandom: Psych
Rating: (G)
Time Period: A few years after ‘tis the season to receive shocks!.
Summary: Another big shock is received.
Author's Note: This is quick ‘n’ dirty (for definition see the F. A. Q.).
I liked writing the series of stories that began with ‘tis the season to receive shocks! so when the presents idea came up, I knew one present to write straightaway.
Disclaimer
All characters contained herein are the intellectual property of Steve Franks; I am not affiliated with nor endorsed by him.
_______________________
“I haven't slept with your sister again, have I?”
“You know that's right. The Jackal stopped you.”
Shawn checks his hand for the address before knocking, his eyes remaining where they are: on the front door. “You stopped me?” Okay, so he looks away for just a second,
“By ways and means you don't understand.” A slight pause. “Got the right address, Shawn?”
“Yeah, why?”
“The door, Shawn.”
Shawn looks at the door. “Don't you dare faint, Gus. Once was enough.”
“I didn't faint!”
“O'course y'didn't,” a voice assures him. “Y'were jus' restin'.”
Gus faints. Shawn sighs and waves his hand at his unconscious friend. “Don't mind Speedy. Where's Doctor Smith?”
“Young fella, foppish hair?”
“That's the one.”
“I don't know. I'm the caretaker.”
Shawn looks him up, then down. “Do you have a name?”
“Yes. How can I help you?”
Shawn points down, at Gus. “Can I bother you to let us in so he has a place to lie down instead of the floor?”
“I ---- fine.” The door widens. “Bring him in.” The caretaker lurches forward, as though he's been pushed. “I'll help.”
“Thanks.” Shawn lifts Gus's feet. “You grab his arms?”
“All right,” the caretaker grumbles. Between the two of them, Gus ends up on the couch. “I'll be right back.” He turns, to retrace the path to the door. “Clara!” He bellows on his way. “Do your job!”
Shawn watches as a young brunette woman enters the living room. It's big, he notes; he would never have guessed it from the outside. “You're the old Doctor's assistant.”
A brilliant smile lights her face. “I was,” she admits, her cheeks dimpling thanks to her smile, Shawn notes. “And you're Shawn Spencer, with …?”
“Speedy McSpeedo,” he answers promptly. “How'd you know who I was?”
She casts a look at Gus, to be sure he's all right, Shawn thinks, before she looks back at him. “Because you visited Doctor Smith before about Katy?” She pauses slightly, looking round before gesturing to a chair where he could sit. Near Gus, he noticed. “I have a good memory,” she adds as she sits. “Did you find her?”
“Why did the caretaker tell you to do your job?”
“Because I care,” she answers simply. “Did you find her?”
“Who?”
“Katy.”
Shawn smacks himself mentally. Pretty girl with an accent. He shouldn't get distracted. “Yes,” he replies. “Your boss leave those behind?”
Clara follows his gaze and smiles; a round pair of black glasses sit on a side table. “Yes.” She brushes hair over her shoulder. “He has a spare pair in England. So, tell me Shawn,” her fingers entwine, “what brings you back?”
Fandom: Psych
Rating: (G)
Time Period: A few years after ‘tis the season to receive shocks!.
Summary: Another big shock is received.
Author's Note: This is quick ‘n’ dirty (for definition see the F. A. Q.).
I liked writing the series of stories that began with ‘tis the season to receive shocks! so when the presents idea came up, I knew one present to write straightaway.
Disclaimer
All characters contained herein are the intellectual property of Steve Franks; I am not affiliated with nor endorsed by him.
_______________________
“I haven't slept with your sister again, have I?”
“You know that's right. The Jackal stopped you.”
Shawn checks his hand for the address before knocking, his eyes remaining where they are: on the front door. “You stopped me?” Okay, so he looks away for just a second,
“By ways and means you don't understand.” A slight pause. “Got the right address, Shawn?”
“Yeah, why?”
“The door, Shawn.”
Shawn looks at the door. “Don't you dare faint, Gus. Once was enough.”
“I didn't faint!”
“O'course y'didn't,” a voice assures him. “Y'were jus' restin'.”
Gus faints. Shawn sighs and waves his hand at his unconscious friend. “Don't mind Speedy. Where's Doctor Smith?”
“Young fella, foppish hair?”
“That's the one.”
“I don't know. I'm the caretaker.”
Shawn looks him up, then down. “Do you have a name?”
“Yes. How can I help you?”
Shawn points down, at Gus. “Can I bother you to let us in so he has a place to lie down instead of the floor?”
“I ---- fine.” The door widens. “Bring him in.” The caretaker lurches forward, as though he's been pushed. “I'll help.”
“Thanks.” Shawn lifts Gus's feet. “You grab his arms?”
“All right,” the caretaker grumbles. Between the two of them, Gus ends up on the couch. “I'll be right back.” He turns, to retrace the path to the door. “Clara!” He bellows on his way. “Do your job!”
Shawn watches as a young brunette woman enters the living room. It's big, he notes; he would never have guessed it from the outside. “You're the old Doctor's assistant.”
A brilliant smile lights her face. “I was,” she admits, her cheeks dimpling thanks to her smile, Shawn notes. “And you're Shawn Spencer, with …?”
“Speedy McSpeedo,” he answers promptly. “How'd you know who I was?”
She casts a look at Gus, to be sure he's all right, Shawn thinks, before she looks back at him. “Because you visited Doctor Smith before about Katy?” She pauses slightly, looking round before gesturing to a chair where he could sit. Near Gus, he noticed. “I have a good memory,” she adds as she sits. “Did you find her?”
“Why did the caretaker tell you to do your job?”
“Because I care,” she answers simply. “Did you find her?”
“Who?”
“Katy.”
Shawn smacks himself mentally. Pretty girl with an accent. He shouldn't get distracted. “Yes,” he replies. “Your boss leave those behind?”
Clara follows his gaze and smiles; a round pair of black glasses sit on a side table. “Yes.” She brushes hair over her shoulder. “He has a spare pair in England. So, tell me Shawn,” her fingers entwine, “what brings you back?”