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Author's Chapter Notes:

 

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. I don't own references to Hello Kitty, Band-Aid, Little Shop of Horrors, Bela Lugosi, Justin Timberlake's song "Sexy Back" or Miley Cyrus's song "Party in the USA."

 

Minor reference to Season Three's "Lassie Did A Bad Bad Thing".

 

Author's Note: Reviews, feedback, comments and constructive criticism are welcomed and appreciated. Really love to know what you think. :) Thank you and enjoy!

 

 

 

 

Chapter Six: I Am The Voices In Your Head, You Are The One I Want Instead

 

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Shawn caught his outstretched hands on a door frame, holding on for dear life until his pointer finger tip rubbed over a jagged edge and pop, up came a big drop of red. He hadn't even noticed, not right away. "Jules, don't let him keep us apart!" Shawn called back, raising the hairs on the back of Juliet's neck. She craned her neck in spite of herself to see. She was holding her breath.

 

"Hold up, Lassie, I got a boo-boo!"

 

"You're unbelievable," Lassiter said through gritted teeth. "That's barely a scratch!"

 

Shawn turned towards her, waving his finger in the air.

 

Juliet stared at the blood and something unnamed edged across her, brushing her face like a whisper of bird feathers. She felt prickly and unattached from her own skin, and pressed her lips tightly together just to remind herself she was in control of her own motivations.

 

 

But she didn't dare, not in front of so many onlookers, take his hand and do something about the cut.

 

 

Shawn licked the drop on his finger. "You know," he said after a few seconds, "I think I like the taste of my own blood."

 

Gus glared at him, frozen in mid-bite of a giant chocolate chip cookie he'd taken off Officer Dobson's desk. After a second, he went back to chewing but tossed the rest of it in the trash.

 

"Yeah," Shawn continued, nodding as he sucked more of it. "I'm not just saying that because I'm a vampire either."

 

Gus scrunched up his face. "Shawn, that's messed up."

 

 

It was the first fresh blood she'd glimpsed after so many endless nights, staring at the underside of the earth. Juliet stifled an icy shiver; was there a chance she was a shadow echo of herself glued upside down to the imprint of her shoes, as if she herself was the one underground? Her eyes were drawn the recurrent blooms of red. It was a little drop of a humanthe best kind of blood to spill.

 

 

Shawn grinned, his fangs gleaming for a second in the errant streaks of sunlight. "Dude, it's awesome. Now I can feed myself forever."

 

"Just because you can doesn't mean you should."

 

"It's good. Try it! Come on, Gus, lick my blood!" Shawn cackled. "Say 'feed me, Seymour!'"

 

"That's not sanitary, Shawn!" Gus howled, hiding his eyes.

 

"For the love of—" Lassiter growled, tightening his grip on Shawn's slippery cape.

 

Shawn held out his bloody finger. "Jules, do you want to taste me?"

 

Lassiter shoved Shawn down the hall. "Get moving, Spencer! This is a police station, not a funhouse!"

 

 

On the inside, she smiled, tempted, her gaze shifting to the receding back of the last spoken voicea tall, dark male whose voice could clear a room with ease ("Fire!"), quell a mass panic ("Remain calm, civilians! You have nothing to fear!"), and pull a svelte woman against his sturdy frame with one solid breath. Charmed, she almost was; but inside this head there wasn't a shred or thread of passion for this fine specimen of a man, this well-chiseled, life embodying statue. No alarm; she knew she would get her way, even for the shortest amount of time.

 

 

"See you again tonight, Jules!" Shawn called, sounding amused.

 

Juliet snapped out of it, whatever it had been, and ran her hands over her face quickly, as if to be assured she was still all there.

 

She flushed a violet color, glad to have the three men away, with their backs turned to her. Maybe she needed to sit down, drink some water, and try to think this out for a moment without any of their interferences. Some of the thoughts which had just run through her head were not her own, she was certain of it, but this was more unsettling then comforting. Juliet chose not to dwell on any of it except the very last thing Shawn had said. What did he mean, he'd see her again tonight?

 

See her again in her dreams? Would tonight be the night he'd drain out the very last drops of her?

 

* * * * *

 

At the stairs before the station's main doors, Gus chewed a handful of candy corn he'd swiped from another desk and Shawn gripped the railing with one hand and pressed his temple with the other in a useless effort to stay. "Lassie, I'm getting something!" he announced. "It's time for your resident psychic-vampire to bring sexy back!"

 

"I never get that," Gus said. "Where did sexy go? I mean, I've been here all time."

 

Lassiter shoved Shawn forward, causing him to lose his grip on the railing. "Spencer, will you get the hell out? I've got enough weirdoes to deal with today!"

 

"That's pretty much everyday, isn't it?" Gus interjected. Lassiter's shoulders hitched to his ears. Scowling, he turned to Gus, and shielded his eyes. "What are you supposed to be again? And why are you wearing a windbreaker over it?"

 

Shawn chuckled. "What are you supposed to be?" Gus threw back, ignoring the second question entirely.

 

"Yes, yes!" Shawn yelled, his eyes closed. "Yes, spirits, I will also drink your blood! Va-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!"

 

"Guster, I don't like your attitude."

 

"Well, I don't like your costume."

 

Lassiter took a step towards Gus. "Say that again to my face!"

 

Gus blinked. "I just said to your face. Where were you?"

 

Shawn risked a glance at the pair, and fought a wild grin. "Fear not, the inter-coursing spirits, who find my hair glossy and sweet, tell me the Chief will arrive momentarily with a Band-Aid and tantalizing news about a partay in the USA—"

 

As Lassiter turned his scowl on Shawn, Vick turned the corner. Her left eye twitched. "Mr. Spencer, Mr. Guster, may I ask what you are still doing here?"

 

Lassiter flicked his eyes to her, then back to Shawn, looking suddenly stunned. "How did you—?" he gasped.

 

"No, Chief you may not ask. But you can ask. If you can. Can you?" Shawn flashed his plastic teeth at her from his hand.

 

As Vick drew closer, it became more apparent of how less amused she was. Still, her eyes wandered up and down her psychic consultant. "Authentic?" she asked.

 

Shawn grinned, brushing off the front of the costume, as if there might be errant crumbs. He smeared the red jelly. "That's not blood, and the medallion's rented, but everything else, down to my plastic fangs, is the real deal." Gus rolled his eyes. Shawn pressed the teeth together with his fingers. "Rawrrr."

 

Vick looked away for a second, as if trying not laugh. "Get out," she told them when she looked back.

 

Lassiter raised an eyebrow, a smirk on his lips.

 

"Really, Chief, there's a naked Bela Lugosi wax model somewhere, if you have doubts." He put his hands out as if he was ready to put a confession in writing about so-called his petty theft.

 

Vick herself smirked. "Get out. Now."

 

"I think she's telling us to get out, Shawn," Gus translated as Shawn continued to show off, even performing the cape-to-eyes move.

 

"Get out!" Shawn mocked.

 

"No, I'm serious!" Gus shot back.

 

"McNab!" Vick called out, looking around. "McNab! I summon the undead!"

 

Gus looked ill. "See ya," he mumbled, pushing past everyone, taking the stairs two at the a time.

 

"Gus!" Shawn called after him. "He's not a real zombie! Chief, I'd like that Hello Kitty Band-Aid now," Shawn told her, holding out his hand. An odd look came over Vick's face, and then she retrieved a Band-Aid from her pocket. It had been for Iris, this morning, but her daughter had decided her scratch was okay without it.

 

Shawn took the bandage and hopped down the stairs. "Gus, I can't go out there! I'll burst into flames!" Still, he followed, the cape fluttering up and down behind him as if he were flying away.

 

"Do dreams come true?" Lassiter asked, still smirking.

 

When they were out of earshot, Vick ushered Lassiter back into the corridor. "Detective, I have an important assignment tonight for you and O'Hara, but I need to know right now if you feel she's up to it."

 

* * * * *

 

Again, Juliet felt a sensation pass through her, felt, impossibly, as if her own shadow was clinging the soles of her feet, mirroring her image right into the ground. She clicked her high heels on the tile, as if she knew how to get it to release her, but instead, it only earned her puzzled looks from officers nearby. She could feel, rather than see, someone's face sneering in her general direction, and wondered with a body rocking shiver if it were Shawn. Abruptly, Juliet spun, looking for him. He wasn't in sight. She put on her best smile for another small knot of officers, then headed for the ladies' room. Each step she took was like traipsing through thick mud, but she didn't let it show how unnerving it was.

 

Poor Juliet, a little voice not her own whispered, right at the base of her neck. Juliet let out breath, and quickened her pace. It wasn't even close to night yet and she was already unhinged. Shawn, please, whatever this is, please, please stop, she pleaded, hoping to thwart any of his psychic instincts. He must care for her in some way, but her thoughts strayed. Cared enough to spread himself over her, kiss her as if they were the last alive on the planet and then bite her fiercely until they were the last dead too.

 

Yes, that's right, the little voice added. Juliet suppressed a cry. Poor, sweet Juliet.

 

Once inside, Juliet pressed her back to the door for a few seconds. She felt a woman on the verge of something unexplained, and longed for the shock of cold water against her face. Juliet went to a sink and turned on the faucet, trying not to look in the mirror, but her own eyes were so blue.

 

She looked. It was her own self looking back. Juliet sighed, then cupped some water to her face and mouth. The flowing water and her breath were the only sounds within as Juliet bent close to the stream. She listened to its patter as thoughts that were not hers grew louder in her head.

 

* * @ * * 

 

She studied the reflection in the glass, trying to make up her mind. Before her was a very pretty girl; surely, if she spoke she would have a whole room's attention? Her pick of choice cuts for dance partners at balls and galas? Would she ever know the killing solitude gripping her throat, the silent screaming piercing her skin, the inside land of her organs quaking, twisting, squishing together, exploding as she fell down, with no one ever there to catch her?

 

Would she ever know what it was like when a stake was driven through her heart?

 

* * @ * *

 

Juliet reeled backwards, standing up too fast. She had a sudden dread that she'd fallen asleep while standing here, and turned off the water as her hands shook. Had she been sleeping long?

 

Was it . . . something in the water? Her face felt cold and she hastily patted it with her hands.

 

Juliet let herself out of the bathroom quickly, feeling worse. Shawn . . . why are you doing this? she implored, dizzy with unknowing. What if . . . I'm not dreaming now? The rest of her body went cold as what seemed a physical arm wrapped around her waist, anchoring her body against it, and a hot breath blew on the back of her neck. "Boo!" a male voice said.

 

Juliet stiffened, expecting pain to come, not a laugh.

 

She was released, but she elbowed whomever it was behind her anyway. It landed, but the laughing continued. She turned around and froze. "Drimmer?"

 

"Did you miss me?" former Detective Drimmer laughed. He wore an orange jumpsuit and held out a pink box, grinning. "I brought you Halloween cupcakes!"

 

"From prison?" Juliet asked, trying to catch her breath.

 

"So tell me, are you and Shawn still an item?"

 

Juliet flushed, but wrapped her arms around herself, unnerved to the point of goose bumps. She couldn't move. Shivers coursed the length of her body, up and down.

 

"Detective O'Hara?" A clear voice, anxious but patient to her left brought her to flinch. Juliet looked towards the voice and up into the zombie-fied face of Buzz McNab. "Are you all right?"

 

As Juliet opened her mouth to answer, she flicked her eyes back to Drimmer, but saw he wasn't there. "Where—?" No Drimmer. No pink box. Juliet's heard beat fast in her throat. She tried to swallow it.

 

Buzz put a semi-bandaged hand on her shoulder.

 

"Did you see him?" Juliet hissed, looking around quickly. Buzz tightened his grip.

 

"Who?" Buzz asked, looking around. "Dobson? You just missed him."

 

Juliet had to wonder if she just shouldn't make a commitment to going home. She could claim that she was too out of it to properly function; she frowned for even thinking these thoughts. I'm perfectly fine, not deathly ill, she chastised herself. But another shiver followed. She knew she was not perfectly fine; was it something in the water? In the air? Had something she wasn't even aware of being humanly possible carried over from her dreams and changed her? Juliet frowned harder; she resolved to banish even these thoughts; if Vick or Lassiter got wind of her strangeness, she would likely be yanked from field duty until she spoke with a shrink. She scoffed. What good would this do? Then she pictured herself straight-jacketed in a psych ward.

 

Easy prey for vampires, then. Someone in her head laughed.

 

She forced herself to smile at Buzz, grateful for his rather tight grip, letting it anchor her to reality as she got her bearings back. "I'm fine, Buzz, thanks for asking. You can let go now."

 

Buzz looked at her dubiously, but did as she said. "Can I at least walk you to your desk?" he asked, putting out his arm as if they were about to dance.

 

Juliet giggled, and took his arm as if to make him feel better. "You're not going to eat my brains, are you?"

 

"No, no, not unless you're a vegetarian," Buzz replied seriously.

 

* * * * *

 

"It's time to go trick-or-treating!" Shawn announced when he caught up with Gus at the car. He bounced on his toes, excited as a grade schooler.

 

"But it's still light outside!" Gus whined. "And I didn't bring my pumpkin head along."

 

"I know," Shawn said, patting the top of Gus' head. "But tonight we have other plans." He looked deeply serious for a few seconds. "I bet we can get through fifteen houses before we get the cops sicced on us."

 

"I'd say ten. Especially if we start with your dad's house."

 

Shawn grinned. "You're on! I did want teepee his trees anyway."

 

"You should wait until after we finish carving the Jack-o'lanterns. And borrow all of his reserve candy," Gus said.

 

Shawn raised his eyebrows. "I'm impressed, you sound like me!" Winking, he added, "You can take off the jacket now."

 

* * * * *

 

They passed her desk on the way to Vick's office. "Did you take a good look at her, Detective?" Vick asked. He nodded. "So?"

 

At a passing glance like that, O'Hara looked perfectly fine, if nothing else merely absorbed in her work, pen in hand as she wrote up a report.

 

Still, Lassiter felt like he was losing her. That she was bending away from him, no longer green branches; she could snap at any second. His usual response to loss was to buckle down, to have her followed, her phones tapped . . . but this was O'Hara. And he needed an answer now. Lassiter ran his hand across his mouth.

 

 

 

Chapter End Notes:

 

 

Thanks for reading! Reviews are welcome! Chapter title is from lyrics to "Voices in Your Head" by Paris By Air. 



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