Fandom: Psych, White Collar
Characters: Shawn, Gus, Peter, Neal, Henry, Juliet, Lassiter & Vick with cameos from Mozzie, El, Diana & Jones
Word Count: 626
Overall Summary: In New York, Peter and Gus search for what happened to Neal and Shawn. In California, Shawn and Neal escape a little too easily, making them wonder if Ridley has other plans.
Notes: Okay, I'm finally posting the sequel to Psychic in the City. It's still unfinished so posting will stay with Wednesdays until further notice. I'd also like to thank my three betas snowflakie06, slytheringurrl and the_moogie
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Gus sat at his desk and powered up the laptop to allow Peter to Skype with Diana and Jones to discuss the case. He typed in the address Peter had given him and sent the request.
“Okay. Any second now.”
“Great!” Shawn used his wheeled chair to push Gus out of the way so he was front and center when the call connected.
“Shawn!” Gus pulled himself back using the desk and pushed Shawn so both would get screen time.
Shawn, of course, had to push back and that was what they were doing when Jones and Diana saw them.
“Hey! Guys!” Jones shouted.
Gus stopped and looked at the screen allowing Shawn one last shove.
“Hey!” Shawn called in greeting. “You’re both looking good. Like the new suit, Jonesy.”
“Shawn, you haven’t seen all my suits. Of course it would be new to you.”
“No, I mean new as in bought last week. Cut looks good on you.”
“That’s what I told him when he bought it,” Neal said as he walked over, still sipping his smoothie.
“Diana, looking lovely as ever.”
“It’s only been two days.”
“Is that all? So much has happened.” He peered at the screen. “Are you at Peter’s?”
“What?” Peter hurried over and Gus and Shawn were pushed out of the way as he leaned in to talk to his agents. “Why are you at my house?”
Gus heard El’s voice as he came back to stand behind Peter and next to Neal. He waved. “Hi, El.”
“Hey, Gus. And Neal, you look no worse for wear. Love the casual look.”
Shawn maneuvered his way in from the side in front of Peter. “I tried to get him to ditch the collar completely, but he wouldn’t. Hiya, El.”
“Hi, Shawn. Looking good for having been kidnapped.”
“A simple cross-country kidnapping can’t keep me down,” Shawn grinned.
“Or your hair,” Gus muttered.
“Enough of the niceties,” growled Henry. “What about the case?”
“I don’t know who he is, but I like him already.” Mozzie appeared next to El.
“Guys, this is Mr. Party McPooper, also known as Henry Spencer, my dad.”
There was a chorus of “hellos” from New York.
"Henry’s right,” said Peter. “We need to track down Ridley before the police or he’ll expose Shawn’s secret. If they believe him, that will mean an investigation and every case he worked on could be re-opened.”
“That could allow those he put away to be set free,” added Gus. There was no reason to tell them that both he and Shawn would be facing prison – as would Henry if word got out that he knew. He was surprised that Peter would risk his career for someone he worked with for four days, eight years ago. Then again, it was Shawn.
It seemed that the others in New York were willing to take the risk as well because they didn’t even bat an eye at the possible outcome. It must be because of Neal, thought Gus.
“We tracked down a couple of possible buyers for the chalice,” Jones told them. “They’re both only a few hours away.” He looked down to check his notes. “Cameron James in Palm Springs and Anton Reid in Fresno.”
“If we can get to him outside Santa Barbara, it’ll solve everything! Jules and Lassie won’t have jurisdiction.”
“But that won’t keep him from running his mouth off,” stated Henry.
Everyone was quiet as they realized the truth in that statement. He really is Mr. Party McPooper.
“Gaslight!” called Mozzie. Everybody looked at him. “We Gaslight him.”
“We make him think he’s crazy?” questioned Peter.
“No,” Neal grinned. “We make everyone else think he’s crazy.”
“And how do we do that?” asked Diana. “Telling that someone is a fake psychic isn’t as out-there as saying he’s an alien.”
“Yeah, haven’t thought of that yet.”
“Peter, I sent you the names and addresses,” said Jones. “We’ll keep researching on this side.”
“Neal, Shawn, glad to see you’re both okay.”
“Just try not to get kidnapped again,” added Diana.
“Hey, not everybody can restrain themselves wanting all this,” Shawn motioned to his body, “to themselves.”
To torture and maim, shoot and kill, Gus thought as he remembered Drimmer, Longmore and Rollins. At least he knew what to do if he felt a panic attack coming on.
The call ended with goodbyes and “love yous” from the Burkes and promises from Mozzie to keep looking for ways to quiet Ridley. Gus really did not want to know.
Henry uncrossed his arms and finished his water. “I’m gonna head back home. Peter, do you want a lift or do you want to fold yourself into Gus’ car?”
“What happened to not leaving us alone in case Ridley was still around?” Shawn asked his dad.
“Because I know you will follow us right over there, no detours.”
Gus knew from experience that this was full-on Papa Bear mode. Henry had learned not to order Shawn all the time. He used words like “trust”, “know” and “believe” to make Shawn feel guilty. Granted, Shawn usually didn’t feel it until after-the-fact, but it was there.
With a nod, Henry left and Peter headed for the door.
“Hey, Peter,” Neal called.
Peter stopped and turned around, hand held up to ward off thanks.
“You can call him Henry?”
“Believe me, I earned it.” He left the office.
“Okay, that makes me a little nervous,” said Shawn as he stared at the office door.
“Why?” Gus wanted to know.
“The two of them bonded enough to be on a first-name basis. And what do they have in common?”
Neal smiled. “Man, Peter must have commented on your dad’s parenting skills. That would definitely be ‘earning’ it.”
“Oh, God, why?” Shawn buried his head in his hands.
“Peter saw your relationship with your dad before and after you reconciled. As an outside observer, he probably felt he had to say something. The fact that you were just kidnapped most likely made your dad more receptive to Peter’s argument.” Gus stopped when he saw Shawn with a glazed look in his eyes, already zoned out. It’s probably time for another feeding.
“Why don’t I take him outside?” volunteered Neal. “There should be a vendor – or five – to hold him over until dinner. “You get what you need and we’ll be outside.”
“I’m not sure…”
“I promise, Shawn will not drive off.”
Gus hesitated. Shawn could be playing at this and bolt at the first opportunity. He looked around the office. There wasn’t that much that he needed, so Shawn wouldn’t have too much time to get into trouble. “OK, I’ll be right out. Don’t let him out of your sight.”
“You have my word. C’mon, Shawn.” Neal ushered the other man out of the office.
Gus shut off the computer and slipped it into a drawer and locked it. Shawn’s was already locked away. He checked the windows and the back door to make sure they were secure. He made sure the faucets weren’t running and that they fridge door was completely closed. It was just as he was leaving the office that he heard a familiar engine. He rushed to the lot in time to see his company car pull away. At least Neal kept his promise; it wasn’t Shawn driving away.
“Mr. Spencer is gonna kill me.”