Psych Fan Fiction ❯ Affectation ❯ One-Shot

Disclaimer: I don't own Psych.

 

Yay! My first Shules fic! This is exciting. Thanks go to my beta, pinktink79.

 

Written for the Psychfic forum's “Shules Ficathon '08.”

 

The title has two meanings. The first is “an attempt to assume or exhibit what is not natural or real; false display; artificial show.” The second denotation is actually obsolete now. It means affection or fondness. I thought it was well suited for a Shules fic.

 

Prompt: Plane

 

I.

 

When they first meet, they seem like two points fixed on an axis. It's a strange analogy, she knows, but it fits. It seems like they can never be (will never be) anything more than acquaintances.

 

It still fits, although in a different way. Now there are lines, haphazardly crossing every which way, that connect the two points. And, although she doesn't think that they'll come any closer together, they're no longer separate.

 

II.

 

Sometimes, it seems like they exist in two different worlds. He lives an existence of motorcycles and pineapples and Gus and Henry. She leads a life of murder and rape and Carlton and her cats. While she deals with the darker side of humanity, he's all smoothies and friendship. Sometimes, she doesn't remember why he subsides in her world at all.

 

Then, when she least expects it, he comes prancing into the department or a crime scene (or anywhere, really). He smiles and puts on some ridiculous act. And, even though she still doesn't know why, she remembers how.

 

III.

 

He finds her one day after work. She's had a bad day and is sitting underneath a sycamore tree in a park. She expects him to be his usual boisterous self, gamboling around wherever he pleases, but he merely sits down next to her. She looks at him strangely. He doesn't insist on playing out some psychic vision or spouting off some half-baked bits of philosophy (most likely stolen from one brand of fortune cookies or another). He just quietly holds her hand. Suddenly, everything is alright.

 

IV.

 

Time and time again, he proves himself to be incredibly versatile. Not only is he great at pretending to be psychic (even though it's incredibly obvious he's faking), but he's also a great marksman.

 

They've cornered their suspect and are in the process of making him hand over his gun when he cocks it and fires right at her. Before she can think, Shawn tackles her, the bullet soaring harmlessly over their heads. Then he grabs her weapon and shoots a single round into the criminal's stomach.

 

The malefactor is in the hospital for two weeks. She feels butterflies for two months.

 

V.

 

He takes her dancing. It's for work, of course. They're going undercover at a nightclub because he's had a vision that a reluctant witness frequents the place. Gus has found a girl to dance with. Lassiter is standing awkwardly on the sidelines (of course, he's interrogating anyone who so much as looks in his direction). The psychic brings her hand to his lips and twirls her around. He has strong hands, she notices. He leads her through different songs, molding her movements to fit his own.

 

They don't get much detective work done that night.

 

VI.

 

She's drowning in paperwork. She has tons of reports to fill out and she still has to look over about forty pages of phone records. He shows up, grin in place and extra helmet in hand, and invites her out for lunch. She says yes (she feels herself being lifted out of the metaphorical ocean of record keeping). She's never been so glad to be able to breathe.

 

VII.

 

She's read enough romance novels in her life to remember the clichés. However, their relationship is nothing like a roller coaster; there are no ups and downs. Rather, she thinks it's far more like a boat. It's smooth sailing on the good days, but during a squall there is so much rocking and pitching that sometimes she's afraid it'll sink and she'll have to go down with it. She gets sick if she watches it too closely (seeing how slowly it's happening) instead of looking at the horizon. And, when she's trying to get to sleep, there is nothing more comforting.

 

VIII.

 

He pulls off his helmet and his hair settles in uneven bunches (he has a particularly stubborn cowlick that bounces as he walks along). She has the overwhelming urge to flatten it for him. She tells herself it's because she can't take him seriously with his locks sticking up like that. She ignores the fact that she has a hard time taking him seriously anyway.

 

IX.

 

One Friday, he takes off on his motorbike without telling anyone. He simply leaves messages on all their phones. She listens to her answering machine when she gets home from work. That night, she dreams of straight roads extending for miles beyond her vision (and, in the distance, she can almost see his taillights fluttering like one of the butterflies that has taken up permanent residence in her gut).

 

The next morning, she finds an envelope propped up against her front door. Inside is a single sycamore blossom. She can't stop smiling for the rest of the day.

 

X.

 

It's only been a few days since she's seen him (he's been sick with that flu that's going around). He arrives at the station, easy grin in place and looking none the worse for wear. Her eyes catch his gaze from across the room and she heads straight for him. She throws her arms around him and squeezes lightly. He seems shocked by her actions but eventually relaxes, folding his arms around to the small of her back and bringing her closer. They stay like that for a few minutes. Even though she knows she'll have to, she finds that she doesn't want to let go.

 

XI.

 

They're going on a business trip; she's needed to testify for a trial and he decides to tag along. They've boarded their flight and are now waiting for takeoff. She makes sure, once again, that her purse is properly stored underneath the seat in front of her and that the child behind her is contented enough to keep from kicking her chair. He notices her nervousness and grins as she leans back and squeezes her eyes shut. He slips his hand into hers, dangling the conjoined appendages over the empty seat between them, and she calms down (everything is alright).

 

I feel like some of these need explaining as to how they relate to the prompt.

Math, plain and simple.

A plane of existence.

Sycamores are sometimes called plane trees. Also, somewhere in Greece, I think, there's a grove of plane trees that used to be used for this on philosopher to impart his wisdom on others.

Did you know the “plane” is an adjective, noun, and verb all in one? Also, plane means “to glide or soar.”

A plane is any tool used in woodworking for the purposes of molding.

Plane means to rise out of the water while in motion.

Plane of Flotation. Also the act, process, or state of floating.

Plane can mean, “to flatten.”

This one's a combination of I and III, actually

“To move in a straight line.”

Plane can also mean, “to travel by airplane.”

 

Review?