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When Harry Met Shawn (3/?)

Title: Nothing Yet (temporary)
Fandom: Psych, Doctor Who
Characters: Shawn, The Doctor (11), Amy Pond & special guests
Word Count: 2587
Rating: PG-13
Summary: It's Shawn's first real trip in the TARDIS. The Doctor's decided on London 1920 where nothing really happens. That is until they see Houdini perform and get invited to a seance where things don't go quite right. Shawn's observation skills impress a well-known author of detective stories
Notes: This is a sequel to It's a Gift, A Psychic Detective's Investigation in Wales and Is There a Psychic in the House?. I started posting this over on Psychfic.com and thought it was about time I started over here.

One Two

Amy tried not to gape, but this was the second famous person she’d met in less than 90 minutes! And Shawn’s talents were very much like Holmes. Henry probably thought of the stories as a manual in deductive reasoning and made it required reading for Shawn. She smiled at the thought.

“Arthur.” Houdini came over and greeted the author.

“I didn’t think you would make it.”

“Yes, well, I met an old friend. This is the Doctor and his friends Miss Amy Pond and Mr. Shawn Spencer.”

“How do you do feel towards séances, Miss Pond?”

“I’d like to think that there is something there, that our loved ones can still be with us, but I haven’t seen anything that completely convinces me.”

“I’m with Amy,” said Shawn. “I’ve looked into a few hauntings that were just using local legends to their own ends. I even faked one once. It was actually kind of fun.”

Houdini looked at Shawn in disbelief. “You faked a séance?”

“A woman hired us to contact her husband who she thought was dead. From the information we learned during the séance, we found him alive. Turns out, they had robbed a bank and he was the one who knew where the money was. The other time I fake-haunted a house in order to make my friend look good when he stopped it. We didn’t take any money and my friend got to keep his job.”

“Good thing. Swindlers and cheats are the lowest of the low.”

Amy looked at Shawn and could tell he was thinking about being the Head Psychic of the Santa Barbara Police Department.

“Should we slip into the dining room?” asked the Doctor. “I’d like to see if there’s any…residue left from our special visitor.”

“And if you find nothing untoward, that will convince you of a manifestation,” stated Conan Doyle.

“Oh, I believe there was a manifestation,” the Doctor replied. “I’m just not sure which kind.”

They made their way to the dining room and each took a section to study. Amy found herself stuck with the wall opposite the medium’s chair. The Doctor and Houdini gravitated to the medium’s area. Houdini examined the chair itself and the table in front of it, looking for switches and levers that could be used to fake knocking or levitation. The Doctor took out the sonic and scanned the area around the chair as well as his seat. Shawn and Conan Doyle were testing the walls on either side for hidden panels. Amy tapped half-heartedly. The Doctor knew it was alien, so why were they wasting time looking for a hoax?

“Ah!” Shawn exclaimed. “A wire runs up the wall to the vent. It’s painted the same color. He bent over and followed it along the base of the wall until it ran under the carpet. He then ducked under the table. “Yep, here it is.”

Amy felt the air stop. “It’s off.”

Houdini went under the table. “Show me.”

Amy laughed at the sight of their legs sticking out from under the table. The temptation to kick Shawn’s foot was very strong. She held back, realizing that it would just look childish in front of such distinguished gentlemen.

Shawn sat up and looked at her from underneath the table. “What are you laughing at?”

She laughed harder at the sight of him draped in the colored tablecloth like a shawl. All that was missing was a gold earring. “Madam Shawna.”

Shawn pushed the tablecloth off his head and scooted out. He stood and offered a hand to Houdini. “Part of this was definitely a fix.”

Houdini practically preened with satisfaction. Typical man, gloating because he’s right.

“You said only part of this was a fix.” Conan Doyle latched onto the positive.

“Shawn is correct,” said the Doctor. “This was definitely meant as a scam. The ‘manifestation’ – whatever it was – was most certainly real.”

“What do you mean ‘whatever it was’?” asked Conan Doyle. “It was a spirit from the other plane. What else could it be?”

“Think of another world, not another plane.”

“Like H.G. Wells,” added Amy.

The men who disagreed over the idea of ghosts and spirits both scoffed at the idea of aliens.

“Good Lord, man, you can’t be serious!” exclaimed Houdini with good humor. “Wells writes a nice bit of fiction, but that’s all it is.”

“Centuries ago, people wrote of far-off lands and the possibilities held there. These remained fiction until someone actually went there. Why can’t you consider something like that is happening here?” Amy felt pretty good about that comparison.

“Good analogy, Pond. We’re looking at the edge of the world. ‘Here be monsters’.”

“It would be selfish of us to believe that we are the only ones in the universe,” contemplated Conan Doyle.

Houdini looked at his friend. “Why does it not surprise me that you are willing to accept this?”

“It’s not that big a jump from spirits to aliens,” said Shawn. “There’s just as much proof saying they do exist as there is saying they don’t. Either way, people will think you’re crazy.”

“’There are more things on Heaven and Earth…’” quoted Conan Doyle.

“One of my better ideas,” Amy heard the Doctor mutter.

Of course he knows Shakespeare. “What did the readings say?”

“I’d need to study them a bit longer before drawing a conclusion.”

In Doctor-speak that translated to “Not here”. She yawned.

“You’ve had a long day,” said Houdini. “Why don’t you all get a good night’s sleep and we’ll talk more tomorrow. Do you have a place to stay?”

“Yes. We’ve a suite at the Savoy.”

Amy’s jaw dropped. First tea at the Ritz and now a suite at the Savoy. She could easily get spoiled by this treatment.


Shawn looked around the luxury suite in disbelief. Yes, he had seen luxurious homes like the Claytons’ and Declan’s, but to find this type of, well, luxury away from home was amazing. That the Doctor would shell out this kind of dough for him and Amy really meant a lot. He walked to the window and looked out over the river. What a view. If only Jules were here.

Amy twirled around the room, drinking it all in. She then began to explore. Off to the right was the master suite with a king-size bed. Shawn looked in through the doorway as she ran her fingers along the furniture. To Shawn it looked like a museum or an antique showroom. Strictly, NO TOUCH. “We could fit comfortably on that, eh, Amy?”

“No way! This is mine! You and the Doctor can have the other room.”

“Is that how you share? Didn’t you learn any better?”

“I’ve learned not to share my luxurious king-size bed with fake psychics,” She closed the door on him.

“We’ll talk it over later.” He crossed the sitting room to the other bedroom. As it wasn’t the master, it wasn’t as luxurious, but it was still better than any other hotel he had ever stayed – or worked – in.

He flopped down on one of the beds and closed his eyes in complete relaxation. He opened them when he heard the main door open. He strode into the sitting room to see the Doctor had returned with a porter who was pushing a rack with suitcases and hanging garment bags. He folded a bill into the man’s hand. The man smiled and tipped his cap before leaving.

“What’s this?”

“Can’t have you wearing the same thing tomorrow,” the Doctor answered.

Amy opened one of the garment bags to find a number of suits. “Those are yours.” She moved on to the next bag and gasped at what she saw inside.

“I hope they fit,” the Doctor said. “Not really one for picking out dresses.”

“Oh, they’re beautiful.” She took the bag off the rail and nearly hugged it to herself.

“Um, I also packed a few other things for you.” He lifted one of the suitcases.

Amy looked at him. “You didn’t!”

Was the Doctor blushing? “You sly dog.” Amy turned her glare on him. “At least he thought of bringing you something,” he said quickly.

“Okay. Yes. That was thoughtful, but don’t you ever do that again without asking.” She stormed into the master bedroom and slammed the door.

Shawn kicked off his shoes and sat on the couch, feet on the table. “Why is it that girls are so sensitive about their panties and stuff?”

“I know,” agreed the Doctor as he sat. “It’s just clothes.”

“They’re called intimates for a reason.” Amy came out of the room in a T-shirt and pajama bottoms. “I bet Juliet doesn’t like it when you go through her things.” She sat cross-legged on a chair opposite.

“I’m not even sure which drawer it is.”


“As intriguing as this topic is, we have something a bit more serious to deal with.”

Shawn grabbed one of the throw pillows on the couch and held it to his chest as he settled back. “It’s definitely alien?”

“Yes. At first it reminded me of an incident in Cardiff 1869 at Christmas. They were made of gas and used dead bodies to move around.”

“Ooh, zombies!”

“But this isn’t the Gelth. There was not gas for them and it just seemed to evaporate.”

“What did the Gelth want?” asked Amy.

“To take over the world, of course. We were helped by a young serving girl named Gwyneth and Charles Dickens.”

“Charles Dickens, ghosts and Christmas?” Shawn looked at him. “You really know how to celebrate.”

“So what do you think these aliens want?” questioned Amy.

“I’m not sure. I need to find a way to communicate. I’ll need to check with Harry and Arthur to find out if there have been any fatalities or injuries at any séances.”

“You think they may have tried to communicate before which could have killed someone? They zeroed in on you because you’re different, that you might be able to handle the Vulcan mind meld.”

The Doctor stared, not getting the reference, but Amy laughed.

“If you’re attempting to say it homed in on my advanced brain waves knowing I would be able to handle a mental link, then yes. This reading just isn’t giving me enough information to work with.”

“That just means we need to get you some more readings,” Amy smiled.

“Which means another alien encounter.” Shawn grinned.


Amy woke slowly the next morning, luxuriating in the decadent sheets. When she opened her eyes and saw the room, she sighed in pleasure and sank deeper into the pillows. She then sat up with a start, remembering why they were there. She jumped up from the bed and ran to the door of the living room and flung it open.

“Hey, Sleepyhead,” greeted Shawn from the couch where he was reading a newspaper and drinking…


“Good morning to you, too.”

She poured herself a cup from the carafe on the table and loaded it with sugar and cream before taking a long sip. She then noticed that Shawn’s hair was sleep-tousled and he was wearing a T-shirt and boxers. “Is that what you sleep in?”

“Always. Sorry you turned down my offer?” he asked with what he must have thought was a leer.

“Thankful.” She sat on the opposite end of the couch. “Where’s the Doctor?”

“Wasn’t quite awake when he was rattling off stuff at me. He had the coffee, shoved newspapers at me and took off.”

“Where do you think he went, Mr. Psychic?”

“Probably to contact Harry and Arthur like he said.” He grinned. “I just used their first names, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, you did.” She sipped her coffee. “He didn’t sleep last night, did he?”

“I don’t think so, unless it was out here.”

“And he still has that much energy? He should bottle it – whatever it is.”

“I know. He’d make a fortune.” Amy reached for one of the pastries on the tray. “So, you’re basically researching?” She took a bite.

“Not my strong suit. I usually just read the sports, comics and entertainment – especially if there’s an article on Val Kilmer. Or Billy Zane. Or--”

“I get the picture. What about when you have a case?”

“That’s what Gus is for.”

“How is it you’ve kept up the charade for so long?”

“That’s also what Gus is for. Keeps me from blowing it.”

Amy finished the pastry. “Why don’t you go change and I’ll look through the papers? When you’re done, I’ll shower and that way we’ll be ready when the Doctor comes back.”

“Okay.” Shawn stretched and walked back to his room and shut the door.

Amy reached over and picked up the untouched Times. Of course, Shawn had started with the tabloids. Granted, if any papers were to write about something so sensational as a séance, it would be something like News of the World or the Daily Mail. She poured more coffee and settled back to read.

By the time Shawn returned, looking quite dashing in a suite, Amy had found a few interesting tidbits, but nothing connecting deaths and séances. She said as much to Shawn. “Maybe you’ll have better luck.”

“Sure.” He rubbed a finger along his collar. It was kind of adorable.

She went into the master bedroom and looked through the selection of dresses in the wardrobe. She found one that was white with a drop waist and pleated skirt where the pleats were navy and would show as she walked. There was an accompanying hat also in white with navy trim. She would also be able to wear her own underthings as this style didn’t require slips, petticoats or corsets.

Outfit chosen, she moved into the bathroom and sighed at the size of the tub. She could lounge in that with warm, rose-scented water up to her neck. “Not this morning, Pond. You don’t have the time.” She closed the shower curtain and quickly stripped before stepping inside. She lifted the shower handle and adjusted the temperature before switching it on. Oh, it felt glorious! She used the rose-scented soap and scrubbed herself down before rinsing off. Her hair would have to wait for another day. She dried off and slipped into the plush robe provided before walking back into the bedroom.

She changed quickly and gave a spin in front of the mirror. Something was missing. Pockets! This dress didn’t have pockets. She then remembered seeing purses with the accessories the Doctor packed. She had wondered why at the time as she never used one – well, hardly ever – but now she knew. “Ah, there it is!” She found one in navy and slipped in some mints and lip gloss as well as her wallet. She smiled and grabbed her phone.

Amy stepped into the sitting room. “Hey, Shawn!” He looked up and she snapped a photo. “For Juliet. I doubt she’s ever seen you dressed so well.”

“Once, for a wedding not long after we met.”

She looked up after putting the phone in her purse and he took her photo.

“For your fiancé.”

“If you two are done modeling, we’ve got a meeting to get to,” the Doctor said as he strolled into the room. “Arthur has connections that will talk to us about similar circumstances to last night.”

“How similar? Was there a manifestation?” questioned Amy.


“Was there a death?” Shawn wanted to know.

“Oh, yes,” the Doctor said almost gleefully.

Amy shivered in anticipation.



( 1 comment — Leave a comment )
Feb. 15th, 2012 05:14 am (UTC)
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
User coolceruleanblu referenced to your post from Tuesday, February 14, 2012 saying: [...] info over at . PSYCH Fiction Gen - Nothing Yet [...]
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