On a horse with no name

[psych_out]

"Dude, I got it! Get everyone down to the track," Shawn told Gus before he had left the Jockey Club box. He didn’t just ‘have’ it, he had it, and now came the best part, the pay off, the grand reveal where he got to flex his psychic senses for all to see. It was his time to shine like the brilliant star that he was.That was the plan, anyway, except

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[just_a_mountie]

"That saddle doesn't look very secure," Fraser said knowingly, not being judgmental so much as concerned for the man's safety and the horse's comfort. The Mountie approached slowly, looking up at the man curiously. He didn't look as if he had much horseback riding experience.

[psych_out]

"And that's a... bad thing?" Shawn asks, swinging his feet about in the stirrups. "Does it matter when the horse has negative seven horsepower and moves at the speed of dead opossum?"

[just_a_mountie]

"I don't believe dead opossums move at all," Fraser replied, looking confused. "I assume you're implying that she isn't eager to let you ride her."

[psych_out]

"Not unless they've been zombified... but let's not get into that," says Shawn, patting 'Flicka' at the withers. "Her giddy isn't very up at all. Had I known she was as stubborn as a mule, I might have opted for an actual mule. But-- Hey! You called her a her, too. It's a her? Didn't really have time to check under the hood." Nor did he have the desire too.

[just_a_mountie]

"I can assure you that she is very much a she," Fraser replied easily, tilting his head as he listened to the man speak.

It was a bit like attempting to converse with Ray after the other man had consumed several cups of coffee laced with extra M&M's. "Are you well?" he asked after a moment. "It seems unusual that one would own a horse without knowing it's sex."

[psych_out]

"I'm a little queasy, but I blame that all on my amazing technicolor dreamshirt." If nothing else, the shirt proved that Henry Spencer hated his son very, very much. "Don't stare directly at it," he warns.

"Despite the fact that I'm seated on one, I don't own a horse. She's a rental... I needed a gimmick, the name of the game was death at the derby; it made sense at the time."

[just_a_mountie]

"I wasn't aware that one could rent horses on the island," Fraser said, taking the other man's words at face value and looking very interested in the prospect of renting one himself. "May I inquire what you bartered with?"

[psych_out]

"You can't. Well, I mean, maybe you can. Or not. I don't know, I just got here. Her, too. Are these things supposed to hurt your ass?" Shawn rambles, running his sentences together, shifting uncomfortably in the saddle before he's had enough and he's attempting to get out of it while breaking as few bones as possible.

He throws his arms up once on the ground, like a gymnast whose just stuck a perfect landing. "And I'm back. You know how cops are always flashing their badges in the movies and taking peoples' cars so that a high speed chase can ensue? It was just like that. Minus the badge and the cars and the speed."