Shawn sat down on the couch, his head in his hands, wondering what he should do next. This was so unlike him: indecisive, scared, and he was more than shocked at the vigor of his aversion toward his father. Gus walked over to him and put his hand on his best friend’s shoulder, only to have it shrugged off.
“Come on, Shawn,” Gus cooed, “it’s all okay. Your Dad’s gone. Just forget about it.”
“Forget about it?” retorted his broken friend, “Gus, the man just waltzes in here, shoves a picture of my mother in my face, telling me she’s really alive and is visiting, and you tell me to forget about it?”
“No, Shawn, that’s not what I mean. What I really mean is—well, I dunno, don’t let it get to you. Just try to stay cool until the time comes when you have to talk to them again.”
“Gus, you are so not helping me, man.” Shawn replied angrily as he stormed toward the door, snatched his helmet off the file cabinet, and proceeded outward toward his motorcycle.
It was a naturally beautiful Tuesday afternoon in the Santa Barbara County. The sky was a perfect light blue, which matched the lush greens and yellow undertones of the world around him. But for him, it didn’t matter. It was like the whole world was against him, smiling and happy, when he was definitely not. Shawn drove down the streets, past the beach, and into town when something caught his eye: the Santa Barbara Police Station.
The moment Shawn walked into the station, everything changed; his spirit lifted. He walked past the desk clerk, who was sitting back, amused by the people walking by.
“Mr. Spencer!” She called after him, to which he smoothly turned on his heels and walked back toward her.
“Hey you!” he greeted her with a smile. He looked around her desk to see what was happening in her life. That’s one thing he could thank his dad for: training him to take in every little detail around him. His eyes focused on something in the trash bin—a box of cigarettes. No—a full box of cigarettes!
Shawn put his fingers to his temples, jumped up and down a bit, and muttered gibberish into the air. “Wait!” he said, “I’m getting a vision! You’ve recently quit…quit…fire!” he shouted, which made everyone within hearing distance jump, “Aair…water…water…makes smoke. Smoke! You’ve quit smoking!” The desk clerk beamed and the others around him applauded him for his psychic “vision”.
“Shawn Spencer!” Exclaimed the desk clerk, “You never cease to amaze me!”
Shawn merely smiled and continued into the hall, into the main office room. There were eight desks organized throughout the room, all of them covered with papers. But one specifically caught his eye—the one in the middle. At this desk sat a young girl, maybe a few years younger than Shawn himself. She sat, leaned over her piles, writing as fast as she could. Her long blonde hair fell in her face, as she constantly pushed it aside. He looked closer: she was rubbing her neck; she must be aching. Shawn thought quickly and grabbed a rubber band from the top of some cop’s desk, wrapped it around his wrist, and walked briskly toward the center of the room.
“a-hem” Attempt number one. She didn’t look up, let alone take notice to his existence. She was completely consumed in her paperwork.
“a-HEM!” he tried again. She looked up. “Oh, hello! How are you, junior detective O’Hara?” He said with a small grin. Attempt number one was back in action: flirt shamelessly.
“Oh, his Shawn. Sorry, I’m a little busy today. The chief is out and I---”
“—was left with all the paperwork while she’s off at some police-like meeting?” He finished.
“Yeah,” she said, her head tilted sideways, trying to figure him out.
“Well then, I won’t take long then. I just came over for another case and then I’ll just pop out!”
“No way Shawn,” Replied Juliet, “You just solved two murders last week! Can’t that be enough for you?”
“Nope” he grinned a wide toothy grin, “it’s never enough. Otherwise, I have nothing to do. And when I have nothing to do, I get lonely. Very lonely.” He sat on the corner of her desk, his hand was covering whatever paperwork she was trying to fill out.
“You always have Gus.” She replied, clearly amused.
“I always have you.” He replied smoothly.
Juliet scoffed, grabbed a few papers, and walked toward another officer’s desk to swap them out for another, more tedious pile; Shawn at her heels.
“Please, please?” He begged. When she turned around to head back, he stepped in front of her, spreading his arms wide into the air, to make it look like he wouldn’t let her pass.
“No, Shawn” She said, shooting a sharp look at him, forcing him to put his hands down. She strode past him, her arms full of papers, when he noticed something: someone had spilled a whole mess of coffee behind her desk—right where she was headed. He moved faster than was easy to do in a crowded office, grabbed her by the waist, and ripped her to the side, forcing her to drop her piles of papers everywhere. Juliet grunted and shot a furious look at Shawn. As she bent down to pick up her papers, she noticed something: a hidden puddle of…coffee? Some of the papers were ruined, but for some odd reason, she wasn’t mad. She looked at Shawn, who was now struggling to pick up as many papers as possible before they all got wet.
When the papers were picked up, and he rushed to get paper towels to sop up the mess, Juliet sighed and gave up. She fished through her piles of papers and found a file folder—a small case for him to work on. She handed it over.
“Thanks Jules” he said, with a smile she couldn’t quite read. She sat down and let out an exasperated sigh. Then she attempted to push her hair behind her ears and get back to her mountain of paperwork; but to no avail. No sooner had she looked down at her papers, had she felt her hair gently tugged backwards. She was startled and looked up. Shawn put her hair up in a loose bun. Although she was a little shocked, she smiled and thanked him.
He walked around her desk, on his way back to the main entrance, and quickly grabbed something. Her eyes followed him curiously. Suddenly, he stopped, and swiftly turned around to face her, hiding the object behind his back. A mix of excitement and dread filled her body. He stopped a few feet short of her desk.
“Wait, I’m getting something.” He smiled and continued, “the spirits. They tell me you are in pain.” This could have been perfect if only his voice hadn’t cracked a bit. He moved closer to her desk, “they say…to give you a massage.” He said, almost in a whisper.
Juliet sat, open mouthed, bright red. “No Shawn, go home.” She said stiffly, not taking her eyes off of him. Shawn laughed and turned to walk out, still hiding his mysterious object, leaving Juliet completely flustered. He was almost completely out when he stopped at the clerk’s desk.
“Here,” he said, “Thanks for your Starbucks. Sorry some of it’s gone. I owe you.”
He smiled, winked at the clerk, and continued in his way out.
Story Notes:
Ok, I wrote down 4 chapters in my notebook last night at about 1 am. My handwriting was messy, so I'm doing my best to write it all out here.
Coolness: look for similarities in this story from my other one titled "or do you only want to dance?"
If you find them, you get free pixels! xD Or something like it.
Coolness: look for similarities in this story from my other one titled "or do you only want to dance?"
If you find them, you get free pixels! xD Or something like it.
Author's Chapter Notes:
At the start of this chapter, we find our man of subject, Shawn Spencer, in his office with his best friend, Gus. His father just left.
Chapter End Notes:
ha ha, Starbucks xD
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