Psych Fan Fiction ❯ Mary Had a Little Sue ❯ Santa Barbara, 1987 ( Prologue )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

Disclaimer: I don't own Psych. However, I do unfortunately own Victory, Midori and Francesca.
 
Yes. This is a Mary-Sue parody. This should be fun.
 
Er... Ignore the whole gun thing. I took a ballistics class.
 
“Shawn!” Henry cried out urgently, as he desperately searched the house for his son. The kid wasn't in his room or watching TV. The yard was completely vacant and he has already called the Gusters to confirm that Shawn hadn't followed Gus home. Unfortunately, that only left one possible place he could be.
 
He inched out the front door, watching the neighboring yard like it would attack him at any moment. He forced his hand away from his police-issues pistol. Sure, the horrible safety mechanisms on the double-action semi-automatic pistol would make it amazingly easy to “accidentally” shoot whatever was on the other side of that picket fence, but both murder and manslaughter were highly frowned upon.
 
As he reached the neighbor's front door he took a steadying breath and knocked. There was no going back after this. He could hear a small discussion occurring inside the house before the door opened. “Oh, hello Mr. Spencer.”
 
Henry gave a strained smile. “Hello Victory.”
 
Victory Athena McDowell was sixteen years old. Her rich, black, onyx hair tumbled past her shoulders in soft, gentle, elegant curls. Her large, sparkling, cerulean eyes shined with youthful energy, yet held a shadow of a difficult past in their depths. Her clear skin was lightly tanned in a way that other women would kill for.
 
“Is Shawn over here?” Henry asked as he fought back a grimace.
 
Victory smiled, her perfect teeth dazzling in the sunlight. “Yes,” she replied, “Would you like to come in?”
 
The man gulped as the doorway seemed to loom portentously in front of him. The pink walls and avante garde paintings of kittens visible over the teenager's shoulder seemed like the emissaries from hell. If he went in there, he might not come back. “No thank you. But if you could just get Shawn for me…”
 
“Victory? What's going on?” Another figure appeared behind her. This one had hair the color of spun gold and eyes like flawless emeralds, even though a flawless emerald is an impossibility. She was just the right height and had curves in the right places. And there, just behind the newcomer, was his son. “Oh,” she exclaimed as she saw the officer, “Are you here to take Shawn back home.”
 
Henry gave a gruff nod, not trusting himself to speak now that there were two of them.
 
“Goodbye Shawn,” the two women chorused.
 
The boy in question waved. “Bye Victory, Midori.”
 
As soon as his son was in his possession, he raced them back to their own house and sat them both down on the couch. “I don't want you over there anymore, Shawn.”
 
“But why not?”
 
“They're dangerous.”
 
Shawn gave him a skeptical stare.
 
“They're Mary-Sues. They'll take control of you and make you do things you don't want to. Promise me that if you ever encounter one, you'll be careful.”
 
The child gave a weary sigh. “I promise, Dad.”
 
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