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Everything Comes to an End
folder
M through R › Psych
Rating:
Adult
Chapters:
1
Views:
1,130
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
M through R › Psych
Rating:
Adult
Chapters:
1
Views:
1,130
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own the television series that this fanfiction is written for, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Everything Comes to an End
Authors Note: Welcome to my first venture into the writing side of the Psych fandom. I recently found the fun in angst filled stories and that’s what this will be. Who doesn’t like angry angsty Shawn? For the record it is an evil one-shot on the end of the Psych agency and Shawn helping the police.
The wind was blowing rough and the small Norton underneath him felt like it was going to tip over, not such a good thing. Lucky for him he had arrived at his destination and proceeded to take off his helmet and place it on top of his old bike and walk towards the big doors of the Santa Barbara police station. Everyone inside seemed to be busy, not a sign he wanted to see and his face began to get red. He started to walk towards the glass office at the other end of the station.
“Excuse me, but where do you think you are going”, said I voice Shawn instantly recognized and not one he wanted to hear right now.
“I am going to see the chief, you can just fuck off Lassiter”, Shawn answered quickly and with malice in his voice.
“Unfortunately for you she is busy at the….. Wait what did you just say to me”, Lassiter snapped back surprised that the young Spencer’s words.
“What part of fuck off Lassiter did you not understand?” Shawn once again answered forcefully.
“Shawn, are you okay?” asked the surprised blonde detective known as Juliet O’Hara.
“Do I sound like I am okay O’Hara?” the fake psychic snapped back.
Juliet didn’t know what hurt worse the tone in his voice or the fact he had called her O’Hara. Juliet was quickly pulled from her thoughts as another angry voice came into the conversation.
“Mr. Spencer, may I ask why you are verbally abusing my detectives in the middle of the station?” asked the apparently angry Chief Vic.
“They started it, I am just here to see you”, answered Shawn trying to nice but failing.
“I have no cases for you, please leave before I throw you out,” came the quick reply from the chief.
“Now you see, that’s the damn problem. I haven’t been on a case in two and a half months. I have been forced to find lost pets and tail cheating boyfriends for the past month just to pay my rent. My own best friend has not been to our office in over two weeks. I had to out the nice hunky host of ‘Wake Up California’ to his entire family, resulting in hate mail from half the female population claiming I used my psychic powers to corrupt him or that I need to mind my own business. Who knew rich California house wives could be so bitchy? I decided to come in today and have a fun little talk with my favorite lady. What did I see when I came in; this place is as busy as ever. What the hell is going on?!” the fake psychic huffed out.
“We can solve crimes Spencer; we don’t need your help. Everyone here finally realized that a few months ago.” Lassiter added to the strained conversation a smile evil smile on his face.
“How about everyone just calm down,” Juliet tried to reason, knowing no one was going to listen to her.
“Detective Lassiter is right Mr. Spencer. We haven’t needed any psychic help. When and if we do we will give you a call. Now please leave before I allow Carlton his wish and let you spend the night in a holding cell. You are hindering investigations by yelling at me and my detectives.” Chief Vic finalized and walked off leaving a happy head detective, a pissed fake psychic and a confused perky blonde.
“You heard the chief, off you go Spencer. Hope you have a great life. For the record it was not fun getting to know you.” Carlton Lassiter hissed at the psychic. The evil smile on his face bigger than just a few short moments ago. It was growing larger at the look in Spencer’s eyes.
“I can say the same Lassie face.” Shawn added, all the fun in the once kiddy nickname now gone and replaced with hate. He just turned around and walked right out of the police station not even looking at anything or anyone on his way out. As he reached his bike his cell phone started to ring. One quick look at the caller ID told Shawn his wonderful father wanted to speak with him. Shawn tossed the phone on the ground and crunched it to pieces with the heel of his biker boot. He placed the helmet on his head and made a perfectly logical decision. Mexico sure was a nice place this time of year; he had always wanted to be in a mariachi band.
-THE END-
The wind was blowing rough and the small Norton underneath him felt like it was going to tip over, not such a good thing. Lucky for him he had arrived at his destination and proceeded to take off his helmet and place it on top of his old bike and walk towards the big doors of the Santa Barbara police station. Everyone inside seemed to be busy, not a sign he wanted to see and his face began to get red. He started to walk towards the glass office at the other end of the station.
“Excuse me, but where do you think you are going”, said I voice Shawn instantly recognized and not one he wanted to hear right now.
“I am going to see the chief, you can just fuck off Lassiter”, Shawn answered quickly and with malice in his voice.
“Unfortunately for you she is busy at the….. Wait what did you just say to me”, Lassiter snapped back surprised that the young Spencer’s words.
“What part of fuck off Lassiter did you not understand?” Shawn once again answered forcefully.
“Shawn, are you okay?” asked the surprised blonde detective known as Juliet O’Hara.
“Do I sound like I am okay O’Hara?” the fake psychic snapped back.
Juliet didn’t know what hurt worse the tone in his voice or the fact he had called her O’Hara. Juliet was quickly pulled from her thoughts as another angry voice came into the conversation.
“Mr. Spencer, may I ask why you are verbally abusing my detectives in the middle of the station?” asked the apparently angry Chief Vic.
“They started it, I am just here to see you”, answered Shawn trying to nice but failing.
“I have no cases for you, please leave before I throw you out,” came the quick reply from the chief.
“Now you see, that’s the damn problem. I haven’t been on a case in two and a half months. I have been forced to find lost pets and tail cheating boyfriends for the past month just to pay my rent. My own best friend has not been to our office in over two weeks. I had to out the nice hunky host of ‘Wake Up California’ to his entire family, resulting in hate mail from half the female population claiming I used my psychic powers to corrupt him or that I need to mind my own business. Who knew rich California house wives could be so bitchy? I decided to come in today and have a fun little talk with my favorite lady. What did I see when I came in; this place is as busy as ever. What the hell is going on?!” the fake psychic huffed out.
“We can solve crimes Spencer; we don’t need your help. Everyone here finally realized that a few months ago.” Lassiter added to the strained conversation a smile evil smile on his face.
“How about everyone just calm down,” Juliet tried to reason, knowing no one was going to listen to her.
“Detective Lassiter is right Mr. Spencer. We haven’t needed any psychic help. When and if we do we will give you a call. Now please leave before I allow Carlton his wish and let you spend the night in a holding cell. You are hindering investigations by yelling at me and my detectives.” Chief Vic finalized and walked off leaving a happy head detective, a pissed fake psychic and a confused perky blonde.
“You heard the chief, off you go Spencer. Hope you have a great life. For the record it was not fun getting to know you.” Carlton Lassiter hissed at the psychic. The evil smile on his face bigger than just a few short moments ago. It was growing larger at the look in Spencer’s eyes.
“I can say the same Lassie face.” Shawn added, all the fun in the once kiddy nickname now gone and replaced with hate. He just turned around and walked right out of the police station not even looking at anything or anyone on his way out. As he reached his bike his cell phone started to ring. One quick look at the caller ID told Shawn his wonderful father wanted to speak with him. Shawn tossed the phone on the ground and crunched it to pieces with the heel of his biker boot. He placed the helmet on his head and made a perfectly logical decision. Mexico sure was a nice place this time of year; he had always wanted to be in a mariachi band.
-THE END-