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When Harry Met Shawn (10/10)

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 TwoThreeFourFiveSix Seven Eight Nine

Shawn felt like he should be in a Bond movie. Clothes maketh the man, the saying went and this tuxedo made him suave and sophisticated. The Doctor took it to another level with a white tie, tails, silk scarf and a top hat. He even had a cane he twirled as they waited for Amy. It was like he always had to go one better, but it was as if there was no malice intended. Here he was, looking as fabulous as ever, yet he felt completely shabby. It was so not fair. Then the door to Amy’s room opened and he lost all coherent thought.

She was dressed in a long black gown that was all slinky and shimmery and her hair was held in place with jeweled pins. He wondered if this was what meeting a prom date was like. Rory is a lucky guy.

“Splendid work, Isobel,” the Doctor declared.

The maid blushed and took her leave.

“I feel like a completely different person.” Amy smiled. “I doubt even Rory would recognize me.”

Shawn pulled out his phone and started snapping pictures of just Amy and then Amy and the Doctor. Then it got passed around and all combinations were taken.

“I think we’d best go downstairs and wait in one of the parlors for Harry,” said the Doctor as he opened the door.

“Won’t the desk call up when he arrives?”

“Don’t you want a chance to be seen?” Shawn asked her. “I wouldn’t mind a shot of something from the bar.”

Amy wrapped her arm through his. “A little fortification sounds like a good idea.”

Shawn beamed. She’s engaged, he reminded himself. Your girlfriend carries a gun. Amy laughed at something the Doctor said. Damn, but Rory is one lucky sonuvabitch! He then took to repeating his mantra when things got a little…tough.

The call came that their car had arrived before they left for the bar. They took the elevator down and a fair share of heads turned when they entered the lobby.

They strolled outside and the Doctor helped Amy inside before getting in himself. Shawn was last. He sat in the seat facing backwards and smiled at Houdini who looked completely relaxed.

“Is your wife not joining us?” asked the Doctor.

“Bess is feeling a little under the weather but she insisted I not cancel.” He took Amy’s hand in his. “This way we can talk unencumbered, as it were.”

Shawn had always believed the Houdinis to be a devoted couple. Maybe it was just harmless flirting. Lord knew he was doing the same thing.

Amy extricated her hand. “Though I am flattered by the attention, I’m engaged and you’re a married man.” She consciously rubbed her ring finger. “I left the ring at home because I didn’t want to lose it.”

Shawn had a feeling that was a partial truth. The ring was at home, but it was probably Rory’s idea. “That’s okay,” Shawn said, taking a shot in the dark. “You won’t be wearing it much when you get back home anyway.”

“What? Why not?”

“The wedding, of course. It’ll soon be replaced by a wedding band.” Her reaction made him realize the wedding was much closer than she had let on. “I bet it’ll be like no time at all.”

They arrived at the club and Shawn was amazed by how glamorous it was, all shiny and new. Great, now I’ve got The Love Boat theme in my head. They gave their outer garments to the coat check girl who wore a lovely little costume and Shawn couldn’t help but wink. The maître d’s eyes widened slightly at seeing Houdini, but his mask was soon back in place. He led them across the floor to a table set for six near the dance floor. Conan Doyle…and his wife?

The Doctor was the first to sit down. Houdini glared at him as he held out Amy’s chair for her. If Shawn hadn’t been looking around, he probably would have been sitting before her as well. He had to remember to channel his inner Clive Prescott and be on his best behavior.

“Some cocktails while we wait?” asked Houdini.

“I’ll take a Belladonna,” Shawn ordered. “Amy will have a Mary Pickford. You,” he said pointing at Houdini, “will take a Manhattan.” He looked at the Doctor. “If you were to drink, I’d peg you with an Alexander. However, you’ll probably want a Shirley Temple.”

“What drink is that? I’ve never heard of it.”

Shawn wanted to kick himself. “Um, I came upon it going about the States. It has lemon-lime soda, cherry juice, a splash of grenadine and a maraschino cherry.” He ticked the items off on his fingers.

“Let me guess,” said Amy. “You worked in a bar.”

“I worked in a number of bars in various capacities.” He had really wanted to be like Tom Cruise in Cocktail, but couldn’t find one that would let him. Something about insurance.

“If Harry’s at the bar, he’ll be able to fix it. He’s literally written the book on the subject.” The Doctor leaned back in his chair, legs crossed at his ankles.

“Add a single malt for Arthur.”

The drinks arrived the same time as Conan Doyle. “I apologize for my tardiness. I needed to finish my writing. If I had stopped, I would not have been able to pick up my thoughts again.”

“Your dear wife not joining us?”

“She begged off stating a headache. I believe she just didn’t want to listen to us going on about ‘séances and the like’.”

Conan Doyle’s wife must have been psychic because that was exactly what they talked about. The two men both believed in contact from “the other side”, but Arthur believed it was already happening while Harry was still searching for proof. It was amusing that they had found proof of aliens first. Of course neither of them would talk about it with anyone else. Arthur wouldn’t even write about it in fiction or his journals. Harry never incorporated it into his act or showed any signs of it for the rest of his life. A thought struck Shawn. What if the electric shock he gave the man contributed to his death? He knew Houdini died of a ruptured appendix; it was famously well-documented, but still…


“Hmm? What?”

“Take me for a turn on the dance floor.” Amy pulled his arm.

“I’m not sure…”

“C’mon, it’s a slow dance. We can just sway. C’mon.” She pouted.

“Fine.” He allowed himself to be dragged to the dance floor. He put his hands on her waist as she put hers on his shoulders, and they swayed back and forth, moving their feet a little. “Why’d you choose me and not the Doctor?”

“Are you kidding? I’m afraid of what he’d do let loose on a dance floor.”

“And you’re not of me?”

“You’re human. At least you know what to do.”

He chuckled at that. “If not, they’ll just say it’s ‘cause I’m American. What about you? Do you know how to dance? I mean, proper dancing?”

“Ballroom? Yeah, some. There really isn’t much to do in Leadworth so there were quite a few dances.”

“That’s good to know.”

“What? That I know lame dance steps?” The music ended and everyone applauded. “Let’s go sit down.”

“Tired already?” The band started up a tango and Shawn held out his hand. “C’mon, Pond.”

As the music played, the steps came back to him. Amy followed his leads perfectly and added a few moves of her own. He ended the dance with a dip and was startled by the applause. He acknowledged it with some waves as he and Amy walked back to the table.

“That was marvelous,” praised Houdini as he patted Shawn on the back.

“Is there no end to your talents?” questioned Conan Doyle.

“I’ve been told a number of times I can’t sing.”

“Dance studio?” the Doctor asked.

“Arthur Murray, Peoria, three months.” He took a sip of the champagne Conan Doyle had ordered.

“You have to take Juliet dancing! That was just…fabulous!”


“His girlfriend back in California,” Amy answered Houdini.

“You have a fiancé and you have a girlfriend both waiting for you.” The magician looked at the Doctor. “Is there anyone waiting for you?”

That same hooded look came over the Doctor. “No, no one at the moment. There have been…people in my past and perhaps there will be in future, but not now.”

Amy changed the topic to lighter things, asking Shawn about some of the jobs he had held. He altered them to fit the time and soon the Doctor’s dark mood passed and he joined in the fun.

They said their goodbyes but not before Shawn got autographs from each gentleman. He had also sneaked some photos with his phone and he knew Amy had done the same.

They clambered into a cab and the Doctor gave the address for the Savoy.

“Back to the hotel? Why not the TARDIS?”

“Because, Pond, I’ve paid for the night. And the clothes are still there, not to mention some anachronistic items.”

“So, one more night of luxury.” Shawn could live with that.

Whatever tomorrow brought after stepping into the TARDIS was fine with him. After all, he’d already traveled in time and been on another planet. He didn’t think there were that many who could say that – at least not many who hadn’t met the Doctor.


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