?

Log in

No account? Create an account

Previous Entry | Next Entry

When Harry Met Shawn (6/?)

Title: When Harry Met Shawn
Fandom: Psych, Doctor Who
Characters: Shawn, The Doctor (11), Amy Pond & special guests
Word Count: 2609
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. Thanks to DrHampants over at Psycfic,com for the title!

One TwoThreeFourFive




When they left the morgue, Shawn’s stomach began to growl. This whirlwind investigation had thrown off his feeding schedule. He needed some good street food. Since they weren’t rushing anywhere, the Doctor decided they could walk. Then Shawn smelled fried food. He really didn’t care what he was because it smelled so good. The Doctor stopped in front of a little hole-in-the-wall shop and held the door open for Amy. This…this is where the scent originated. Inside was a counter down one side and four tables squeezed into the remaining area. The Doctor signaled for three to the man behind the counter.

There were only two other customers sitting at the tables who gave them strange looks. I guess we are a bit overdressed for this neck of the woods. The food was ready and Shawn took two of the newspaper wrappers and passed one to Amy. “They really wrap in newspaper. Cool.”

Back on the street, they continued in the same direction.

“Why did he give the cause of death as ‘indeterminate’?” questioned Amy around a mouthful of fries (or chips as they were called here)

“He was forced to say that,” Shawn explained. “How else would he have explained that Hegston burned from the inside-out? The condition of the body wasn’t in the paper, and, aside from the widow and the maid, no one outside the police had seen it.” He popped a piece of fish into his mouth.

“You saw how paranoid he was when he saw what file we were reading,” stated the Doctor. “If anyone else had seen him talking with us, it would’ve cost Litefoot his job.”

Shawn looked at Amy before responding. “Who’s Litefoot?” Shawn flashed to the letters and documents on his desk. “His name was Galloway.”

“Hm? Oh, Litefoot was the Chief Pathologist a while back. 1889. Went up against a madman who drained the life essence of young women in order to stay alive. It only made things worse.”

“Time traveler from the 51st century. He used equipment based on a failed experiment. That’s why he needed the women.”

“And the madness?” asked Amy.

“Oh, he was already mad.”

“Does this have anything to do with the case we’re on now?”

“Not at all.” The Doctor finished his food and threw the paper into a nearby trashcan as they passed.

They stopped at the next intersection to get their bearings. The street names meant nothing to Shawn as he waited for the Doctor and Amy to decide on a direction.

The Doctor looked at his watch. “I think another stop is in order.”

“Lead the way,” said Amy.

The Doctor grinned and started down the road. It wasn’t long before Shawn saw a street name that meant something: Baker Street. First thing in his head was obviously Sherlock Holmes. The second thing was the Gerry Rafferty song. He didn’t know what they were doing here and didn’t think Amy did either. The Doctor turned the corner and Shawn saw the sign and grinned. “Cool.”

“Madame Tussaud’s, Doctor?”

“I thought Shawn would want to see the Chamber of Horrors.”

“Is that the one with the killers?” He knew he probably sounded like a kid, but he couldn’t help it. It combined his love of horror movies and crime.

Amy insisted they see the Grand Hall with the royals and politicians which meant nothing to Shawn. The same with the famous cultural people. Gus would love it, he knew. He did have to admit they were very life-like. It was when they went into the basement, that he became excited. Amy put herself in the middle, not wanting to see the morbid tableaux.

Shawn, on the other hand, darted from side to side, absorbing everything. What impressed him most was the Victorian street scene set up for the Ripper murders. He wondered if he would have been able to solve the case.

They stepped out of the museum and into the fading daylight. Now that the adrenaline was wearing off, Shawn could feel the ache in his feet. Now he remembered why he didn’t wear imprisoning dress shoes. He looked over at Amy and could tell she was walking a little slower, taking smaller steps.

The Doctor flagged down a cab and told the driver to take them back to the Savoy. Once in the cab, Amy sighed in relief and put her feet up on the rear-facing seat across from her – which also put them in Shawn’s lap. He decided to be nice and started to slip one of her shoes off so he could massage them. Juliet had said he foot massages were magical. That time he had worked in a day spa and learned reflexology had certainly helped that relationship.

“No!” Amy protested. “I’ll never be able to get them back on again. I can make it until we get to the room. I then plan to soak in the bathtub for at least an hour.”

“Let me take a shower first. I can be done in 15 minutes.” Both the Doctor and Amy looked at him. “Okay, maybe 20.”

“By its very nature, a shower is quicker,” the Doctor agreed. “If you let Shawn go first, you won’t have to put up with him banging on the door for you to hurry up.”

Amy harrumphed, but gave in.

Shawn and Amy limped back into the suite and the first thing they both did was kick off their shoes and collapse onto the couch. The Doctor opened the note the reception clerk gave him. “Amy, you might not get your full hour. Harry wants us to meet him after the show tonight.”

*******************************

While Shawn was in the shower, Amy had a chance to talk with the Doctor. “Why are you treating this like a vacation?”

“Because we deserve one?” he answered like it was obvious.

“Even when there’s an unknown alien out there? I mean, tea at the Ritz, the Palladium, a suite at the Savoy, Madame Tussaud’s? There has to be a reason.”

“I just thought he deserved something nice after almost dying. He turned down an earlier invitation to time travel so I thought I’d extend the offer.”

“An invitation from you?”

“No. Most likely it was Alan – though I wouldn’t put it past Jack.”

“The guys he named before, they’re time travelers.”

“Alan’s from the 23rd century and Jack’s from the 51st. And I would think both of them have something to do with Shawn seeing aliens in Cardiff and the letter from Queen Elizabeth.”

At that moment, Shawn stepped out from the bathroom wrapped in one of the complimentary robes, his hair still wet. “See, not too long at all.” He realized they had stopped when he came out. “Talking about me, are you? Well, I am a fascinating topic.” He headed to his bedroom. “What kind of thing is this going to be? Formal, semi-formal, casual? I don’t want to be in a tux when everyone else is in street clothes.”

“It’s a séance, Shawn. You saw how everyone dressed last night. Though, if you want to wear a tux, I’m sure Arthur or Harry could get us invited to something.”

“Really?” asked Amy. “I’d love to go to a ball. Really not much call for dressing up in Leadworth.”

“One thing at a time, Pond.” He stood. “While you’re lying in your bath, I’m going to the TARDIS. I think I’ve hit upon a way to keep our alien friend from burning us like a…liked a burned-up thing.” He walked for the door.

“Wonderful simile, Doctor!” she called to his retreating back. He merely waved and left.

Amy walked into the bathroom to find it still warm and steamy from Shawn’s shower. She started running the water in the tub and looked at the selection of bath oils and bubble bath. “Ooh, jasmine. Nice and exotic.” She poured some of the oil into the water before pulling up her hair and pinning it to the top of her head. She didn’t see any candles; it would have made this perfect. She slipped out of her clothes and stepped into the perfect-temperature water. She submerged herself until only her head was above water. Oh, it was heavenly.

She lay there, not doing anything, not even thinking. Moments like this were rare, even in Leadworth. Thinking of home made her think of Rory and his goofy smile and confused face. She figured he would like Shawn even though the American would run circles around him – literally. Rory, she understood. She even got the Doctor to some degree. Shawn, however, was so contradictory; it was hard to tell what was real and what was an act. He could be crazy and fun-loving and then, like flipping a switch, he became serious, no sign of the other man. And what he said about his father’s training method made her wonder how that could have affected him. It obviously made him a brilliant detective, but at what cost? She would have to find out before they took him home.

She then realized she was thinking of a man other than her fiancé while naked in the bath. Taking that as a sign, she stepped out of the bath, wrapped herself in a towel and pulled the plug. She dried off, put on a robe and walked back to her room.

Amy changed quickly into a dress more suited for an evening out, complete with fringe! She then sat in front of the vanity trying to come up with something sophisticated for her hair. In the majority of films and telly she had seen set in this period, the young women all had a bob and there was no way she was cutting her hair. She decided on a loose bun with tendrils hanging down either side of her face. She switched her purse, picked up her shoes and went into the main room.

Shawn was sitting on a couch looking lost. “What’s wrong?” She sat opposite him.

“I keep wanting to reach for the TV remote. How did people entertain themselves?”

“I know this may shock you, but they read books.”

“I think I may have heard of those. What other strange things did they do?”

“Well,” she leaned forward as if imparting a great secret, “sometimes they would even play instruments and sing.” Shawn feigned a gasp of horror. “I know. There were even some who had machines to play the music for them.”

“No way!”

They looked at each other and started laughing. As Amy wiped her eyes, Shawn got up and began opening drawers in the furniture. “What are you doing?”

“Looking for a deck of cards.” He turned to her. “They did play cards, right?”

“Very popular, I believe.”

“Aha!” He held up a deck. “Now we’re in business!”

They were playing draw poker when the Doctor entered carrying a carpetbag. “I didn’t know I had a couple of card sharps on my hands.” He set the bag down with a clunk. “What’s the wager?”

“After each hand, the winner gets to ask the loser a question about their past,” Amy replied, trying to keep her face blank as she waited for Shawn. After six hands, she had learned nothing about him.

“Dealer takes one.” He dealt himself the card.

Amy smiled. “Spade flush.”

“Wow, that’s a good hand. Too bad it’s up against a full house, queens and tens.” He grinned.

“How do you do that? I tried not to show anything.”

“You can’t hide every tell. I learned to play when I was a kid hanging out at the police station. My dad made me promise never to play for money because I always won. Though, as part of a case, I took part in a tournament that earned the winner a buy-in to the World Poker Derby and won.”

“What’s in the bag?” Amy asked the Doctor as she put down her cards. “Will it keep us from becoming burned-up things?”

If the Doctor was aware of his own words being thrown back at him, he didn’t show it. “We need something to conduct the energy safely from our bodies so I’ve created something that should help.” He opened the bag and pulled out highly polished metal cuff bracelets. “What do you think?”

Amy took one that looked bronze. It was wide and the engraving on it did make it seem art deco. She placed it on her wrist. “It is lovely, but how is this going to do anything?”

“By itself, nothing. That’s why I made them in pairs.” He slipped one on her other wrist and Amy felt a slight tingle pass through her body.

The Doctor held out another set for Shawn.

“Dude, really? I’ve nothing against men wearing jewelry – necklaces, rings – but bracelets?”

“This alien is attracted to highly functioning minds, Shawn. Your eidetic memory will be very attractive. If you don’t have these, you could fry.” The Doctor pushed back his sleeves to reveal his own bracelets.

Shawn sighed and held out his arms like he was about to be taken into custody. With a smile, Amy unfastened the cufflinks and the Doctor put on the bracelets. Amy saw Shawn shiver as the second was put on.

The Doctor put two more pairs in his pockets. “Who are those for?”

“Harry and Arthur. Just in case for Arthur. I don’t know if he’ll be there.”

“What about everyone else?” questioned Amy. “Won’t they be in trouble of being fried?”

“Not when sitting side-by-side with your 21st century minds as well as Harry and Arthur’s creative genius.”

“Not to mention your own.”

“Yes, well, I thought that went without saying.”

She stood and straightened her dress. When she looked up, the Doctor was staring at her. “Is there something wrong?” She tried to examine the dress for any tears or something where it shouldn’t be. She looked at Shawn who shook his head. Right, he would have said something earlier. “Doctor?” She snapped her fingers in front of his face. “Earth to Doctor.”

The Doctor blinked a few times and picked up the conversation like nothing had happened. “All right, get your shoes and we’re off.”

“Are you okay?” Amy asked, concerned.

“I’m fine. Why do you ask?”

She could tell there was something he wasn’t saying.

“Man, you were,” Shawn motioned with his hand, “somewhere else.” He then cocked his head. “She reminded you of someone, dressed like that. A bittersweet memory.”

The Doctor wagged a finger at him. “You are one very perceptive fellow, Mr. Spencer.” He took a deep breath. “She had red hair too, and wore a similar dress when we went to a garden party in 1926. It just took me by surprise, is all.”

Amy took his hand. “I’m sorry.”

“She’s not dead,” Shawn said, his foot up on the coffee table as he tied his shoe. “That’s what makes it harder.”

“Why don’t you go see her then?” She certainly wouldn’t want to be forgotten or ignored when she stopped traveling.

“I can’t. I did what I did to save her.”

For a moment, a brief second, Amy saw a look of guilt and immense sadness in the Doctor’s eyes before the shutters came down and he tried to cover it up with enthusiasm for the case. What could have happened to this woman that would prevent him from seeing her? She shook her head to shake the thought from her head. When she had a moment alone, she would try to find out. There was no need for the Doctor to know. “One thing at a time, Pond.”

Seven

Comments

( 2 comments — Leave a comment )
livejournal
Apr. 18th, 2012 02:05 am (UTC)
Tuesday, April 17, 2012
User coolceruleanblu referenced to your post from Tuesday, April 17, 2012 saying: [...] Fiction Gen - When Harry Met Shawn [...]
livejournal
Apr. 19th, 2012 12:03 am (UTC)
Volume 007, Issue 098
User littleriri1148 referenced to your post from Volume 007, Issue 098 saying: [...] Guiding Light/Deadwood, Olivia Spencer/Natalia Rivera Doctor Who wrote "When Harry Met Shawn" [...]
( 2 comments — Leave a comment )

Profile

SPN Dean Writing
blazoningpen
blazoningpen

Latest Month

May 2018
S M T W T F S
  12345
6789101112
13141516171819
20212223242526
2728293031  
Powered by LiveJournal.com
Designed by Witold Riedel