Psych Fan Fiction ❯ Fiddlesticks ❯ One-Shot

Disclaimer: I don't own Psych.

 

My third entry to the Shules Ficathon '08. Thanks, again, to pinktink79 for being my beta.

 

Prompt: Censored.

 

Coming home from a long day of exposing cheating boyfriends was a relief for Shawn. Once he walked through the door, he wanted more than to kiss his wife and then play with his son until dinner. He found Juliet in the kitchen, adding a few last minute ingredients to the crock-pot. Just as she finished replacing the lid, he twirled her around so that her front was pressed against him. Grinning at her shocked expression, he leaned in for a kiss. However, a pair of slim feminine fingers halted his motions.

 

“We need to talk, Shawn.”

 

Her tone was final, so he merely sighed and put a few inches between them. “What about, muffin?”

 

She wrinkled her nose at the endearment before leveling her husband with a look. “Do you know what your son said today?” She didn't wait for him to respond before answering her own question by whispering the word in his ear. Shawn paled as Juliet pulled back. “He said,” she added at a normal volume, “that he heard it from you when you were working on your motorcycle.”

 

The psychic gulped and took an involuntary step backwards. This would not be good for him. “Um…” he stuttered intelligently.

 

“Shawn, you really need to watch yourself around him. You make a bad enough example without adding cursing into the equation.”

 

At this, her husband frowned. “How am I a bad example?”

 

“Let's see. There's fooling the entire police department, for one. And don't think I don't know about Carlton's backyard.”

 

He grinned sheepishly. “Okay, okay. I get it.” His demeanor sobered. “I'll try to watch my language.”

 

“Thank you,” Juliet said before giving him a kiss and shooing him out of the kitchen.

 

XXX

 

The next day, as Juliet was arriving back home, she heard a loud crash coming from the garage. This commotion was immediately followed by her husband's voice declaring, “Frogs and flamenco dancers!” She smiled.

 

The muffin thing is an inside joke.

 

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