Fanfic: Butt Dial
Butt Dial
Disclaimer: I do not own Psych. I make no profit from this story.
Henry Spencer, clad in a gray t-shirt, faded jeans and his usual cap, entered his house. He was carrying a fish-filled bucket and fishing gear. It was sunset, and a warm fragrant breeze washed over Santa Barbara. Henry threw away his cap and came to the kitchen to make dinner. After quickly cleaning the fish, he began to fry them in a pan.
Crrrring!
Henry picked up his cell phone, and saw ‘Shawn’ on the screen. With an exasperated sigh, he pressed the accept button and brought the phone to his ear.
“What now, Shawn?” he asked dispassionately, “Make it quick.”
A second passed, then another. There was no reply from the other side, not even a hello. All he could hear was faint muffled sounds, like the rustle of clothes.
“Shawn? Hellooo?”
No answer.
Henry wondered why Shawn had called him to say absolutely nothing. Then he heard a louder sound. It sounded like something hitting something else, maybe a body hitting a solid surface? Good god, was Shawn in some kind of trouble? Henry asked himself. Getting into trouble was nothing new for Shawn. He did it on a daily basis. Henry figured Shawn had pressed the call button of his phone at a critical moment, a call for help.
He heard a groan on the other side, and then distinct whimpers. Oh no, Shawn must be being tortured!
“Please….” he heard Shawn’s voice. Henry paled, his panicked thoughts going haywire. Shawn was being tortured, and he was begging for mercy. Something must be done, quick! He must call the police chief. But how can he know where Shawn is at the moment? Where should they look for him?
“Oh yes, please, yes!” the words came from the receiver, with more groans.
Henry stared at the phone. That was a weird thing to say, for a person who was being tortured! What was Shawn saying ‘Yes’ to?
“Yes, Gus, yes, harder!” screamed Shawn’s voice.
Henry jumped, squeaked and dropped his cellphone on the counter quickly. He stared at the thing like it might bite him.
“Good god…” Henry muttered. He took a few deep breaths to calm himself. “That monumental idiot! He must have called me accidentally!”
He thought about what he had just found out. This new information about his son’s way of life should have been staggering, but…
“Why am I not surprised?” he asked himself. “What’s more, how come I never knew?”
He wondered if this was a recent development, or had those two been…doing it all along? Shawn and Gus were far too close, and always had been, so it was very hard to tell.
“I guess this is why Shawn has been in Santa Barbara for so long.” thought Henry. “I gave him three months max before he went off in another of his crazy bungee cord jumping expeditions, but he stuck it out. Maybe he has finally found some stability.”
Suddenly he noticed a burnt smell in the air, and turned to find his fish charred and black.
“That idiot! He ruined my dinner!” Henry grumbled.
____X_____
Disclaimer: I do not own Psych. I make no profit from this story.
Henry Spencer, clad in a gray t-shirt, faded jeans and his usual cap, entered his house. He was carrying a fish-filled bucket and fishing gear. It was sunset, and a warm fragrant breeze washed over Santa Barbara. Henry threw away his cap and came to the kitchen to make dinner. After quickly cleaning the fish, he began to fry them in a pan.
Crrrring!
Henry picked up his cell phone, and saw ‘Shawn’ on the screen. With an exasperated sigh, he pressed the accept button and brought the phone to his ear.
“What now, Shawn?” he asked dispassionately, “Make it quick.”
A second passed, then another. There was no reply from the other side, not even a hello. All he could hear was faint muffled sounds, like the rustle of clothes.
“Shawn? Hellooo?”
No answer.
Henry wondered why Shawn had called him to say absolutely nothing. Then he heard a louder sound. It sounded like something hitting something else, maybe a body hitting a solid surface? Good god, was Shawn in some kind of trouble? Henry asked himself. Getting into trouble was nothing new for Shawn. He did it on a daily basis. Henry figured Shawn had pressed the call button of his phone at a critical moment, a call for help.
He heard a groan on the other side, and then distinct whimpers. Oh no, Shawn must be being tortured!
“Please….” he heard Shawn’s voice. Henry paled, his panicked thoughts going haywire. Shawn was being tortured, and he was begging for mercy. Something must be done, quick! He must call the police chief. But how can he know where Shawn is at the moment? Where should they look for him?
“Oh yes, please, yes!” the words came from the receiver, with more groans.
Henry stared at the phone. That was a weird thing to say, for a person who was being tortured! What was Shawn saying ‘Yes’ to?
“Yes, Gus, yes, harder!” screamed Shawn’s voice.
Henry jumped, squeaked and dropped his cellphone on the counter quickly. He stared at the thing like it might bite him.
“Good god…” Henry muttered. He took a few deep breaths to calm himself. “That monumental idiot! He must have called me accidentally!”
He thought about what he had just found out. This new information about his son’s way of life should have been staggering, but…
“Why am I not surprised?” he asked himself. “What’s more, how come I never knew?”
He wondered if this was a recent development, or had those two been…doing it all along? Shawn and Gus were far too close, and always had been, so it was very hard to tell.
“I guess this is why Shawn has been in Santa Barbara for so long.” thought Henry. “I gave him three months max before he went off in another of his crazy bungee cord jumping expeditions, but he stuck it out. Maybe he has finally found some stability.”
Suddenly he noticed a burnt smell in the air, and turned to find his fish charred and black.
“That idiot! He ruined my dinner!” Henry grumbled.
____X_____