Day 1

Title: Day 3
Author: tarotgal
Fandom: Psych
Rating: PG
Pairing: None
Disclaimer: Not my characters, not my 'verse. I don't get paid a cent to play. Please don't sue and make things worse.
Summary: A Christmastime murder and a head cold lead to... banter.
Note: Part of the 12 Ficlets in 12 Days project 2010-2011. Requested by smokeycat_430

 

As Shawn and Gus ducked under the crime scene tape spanning the perimeter of the Christmas tree lot, Lassiter walked up to them. Shawn feigned excitement. “What's wrong, Lassie? Did Timmy fall into another well?” His voice sounded strained; there was no hiding that, though he was pretty good at hiding the rest of his symptoms, considering it was just a little cold.

“How did you even know about this case?” Lassiter asked, leading them around a squad car and through a forest of uprooted trees.

“Oh, Gus and I were on our way over here to Mr. Crenshaw's lot to purchase a tree for the Psych offices,” Shawn explained. At least his cold didn't keep him from thinking quickly in the face of Carlton Lassiter.

And Gus chimed in, “It will make the place look festive and has the added bonus of bringing a fresh pine scent.”

Shawn felt uneasy. His nose tickled, but rubbing the back of his hand at his nose helped significantly. He wasn't going to get on a case if he were sick. He might not get there at all if he didn't do something. “It must have been my psychic powers drawing me to this spot at this time.” They arrived in front of Mr. Crenshaw's dead body, lying spread-eagle beneath a giant Douglas Fur. “I've solved it already!” Everyone's eyes turned to him, as he put his hand to his temple. “I've heard of people actually being killed by kindness. Well, this man definitely died… of too much Christmas cheer.”

“That's absurd, Shawn,” Gus said. “There's no such thing as too much cheer.”

Lassiter rolled his eyes. “This is a cut and dried case, Spencer. This man owns the lot and this tree accidentally fell on him. So as you have nothing to contribute, you'd better leave.”

“I'm contributing body heat,” Shawn pointed out. “And helping turn Oxygen into Carbon Dioxide for all these trees around us.” At the moment, he was probably also contributing a cold virus. He felt another tickle, and rubbed his nose. This time, it wasn't so easy. “hah… hahh…” He could see Gus eyeing him and he imagined the others were doing the same. “hahhh!” He clapped his hand over his nose and mouth. “Ixtchhh!

“Shawn…” Juliet stood up from behind the fallen tree. “Maybe you should go…”

As Shawn bent his head in order to sniff and rub his nose, Shawn's eyes happened to fall upon the base of the tree and the Christmas tree stand. Then they flicked over to the stands of the other nearby trees for comparison. He was able to spot the difference at once, but it would be more difficult for him to call attention to it. He also noticed a large ax nearby, which would have been a better choice for an impromptu murder weapon. The victim had to have known his murderer. After a moment of thought, he cried out and began swaying. Then he waved his arms as he swayed back and forth. “I'm a tree!” he proclaimed, looking up at the sky.

Lassiter sighed heavily. “He's channeling a tree now? This is crazy.”

“What's crazy,” Shawn said, swaying more, “Is how you're dressed.”

“How I'm… Spenser!”

“Even a tree can tell you could use a gift certificate to the Armani Exchange and a new wardrobe for Christmas.” He felt another tickle rising in his nose, and sniffed it away successfully. He continued on. “I'm a tree swaying in the wind. And now I'm falling.” He leaned to the side a little. “Falling.” He leaned further. “Falling!”

Juliet reached out her arms and caught him before he could hit the ground. His stomach jumped excitedly; he had counted on Gus stepping in and catching him, but this was infinitely better. He grinned, looking up at her. “Bet you always did well in those trust exercises.” He would have liked her to have held him all day, but instead she laughed a little and helped him back to his feet.

Less than amused, Lassiter had just about lost his patience. “So the tree fell. We understood that much already. Is there even a point to your existence here?”

 Shawn protested, “It didn't fall. I felt more than that just now. I felt something loosening. And I felt the sensation of being pushed.”

“Oh, of all the—”

“Detective Lassiter, look!” Juliet knelt down and pointed to the pins in the base of the tree stand. “They have been loosened. And the marks on the stump… this looks like it might have been murder.”

Gus nodded. “Definitely too much Christmas cheer.”

*

“Crushed by a fallen tree,” Shawn mused, shaking his head as they walked back to the car. “What a way to go.”

“And you can bet that made a sound,” Gus agreed, ducking back under the crime scene tape.

“All right,” Shawn said, once he and Gus were back in Gus's car, a complimentary pine tree strapped to the roof. “First thing we do is track down some of these employees and see if we can't find a worker or a customer with some grudge—”

“The first thing,” Gus corrected him, “is to get you to a pharmacy and get some cold medicine for you and some Airborne for me.”

hah… hah-Ixtshhh! Sniff! Sniff! Does that stuff even work?” Shawn asked, pinching and then rubbing at his nose with his thumb and forefinger. It worked for just half a minute. Then he needed to sneeze again. “hehh-IHxtchhhh!

“Trust me,” Gus said, driving over to the nearest shopping center.

*

“When will you ever learn to keep your currently runny nose out of police business?”

Shawn pulled at his bonds, but the ropes that Mr. Crenshaw's crazy neighbor had tied him up with were too tight. He could feel the rope digging into his wrists, rubbing his skin raw. Worst of all, he couldn't rub the tickles out of his nose or even cover his nose when he needed to sneeze. “hehh-Ihhktchhhh! Ehxtchhhh!” He sniffled wetly; it was all he could do. “Sorry to get you into this, Gus.” He tried to find something to at least make the situation funny. “Could be worse. Could be raining.”

“Shawn, much as I appreciate the wittymovie reference, we're indoors. It wouldn't matter if it were raining. We're in a basement. We were tied up by a clinically insane woman wielding a gun who's already killed one man because she thought he was hurting trees.”

“To be fair… heh-heh-Ihxshhh! We don't know for sure those trees weren't being hurt…”

“And no one knows we're here. I'd say that's the worst part, wouldn't you?”

There was a loud bang upstairs that made both of them jump. “Was that a gunshot?” a skittish Gus asked.

“I don't think so.” Shawn thought the sound was closer to a door being kicked in.

Then there was another loud bang.

“Now that,” Shawn said, “That was probably a gunshot. heh... hehEhtchhh!” There was another and another and then the door to the basement was thrown open. Heavy footsteps on the wooden stairs were ominous. They didn't have time to shuffle over to the side of the room, further into the shadows, but they didn't need to.

Lassiter's tall form appeared in front of them, looking concerned. “I should have known. You two getting into trouble… now my day's complete.”

Shawn tilted his head back, bumping it against the back of Gus's. “I take it back. This is the worst part. Sniff! Sniff!

Lassiter went for the ropes binding Gus, untying him first. “If you'd prefer, I could just leave you here. How the hell did the two of you get here anyway? We only just traced the car on the surveillance video.”

That was Lassiter all right, so deep into the evidence that he hadn't seen the obvious that Shawn had seen. At least he'd made it there in the end. “I'm psychic, remember?” Shawn shrugged. “You should learn to trust me, Lassie.”

“I'd rather become a florist, Spencer.” Lassiter started undoing the ropes at Shawn's wrists.

“I hear that's an up-and-coming field. Though you'll have to do better than black arrangements. Too bad collies, like most dogs, are colorblind.”

With a sigh, Lassiter finished untying the restraints. Shawn stood and stepped out of the tangle of ropes that had been around his legs. He used his first free second to fish a tissue out of his pocket and blow his nose. It didn't help much. He snapped forward dramatically, tissue pressed to his face. “hehhh-IHKtchhh! IhTchhhh!” Shawn felt dizzy, maybe from the hard sneezes, maybe from standing up too fast. But this time, just like the last time, an arm kept him from falling. This time, like the last as well, it wasn't Gus's.

He glanced over his shoulder to see Lassiter, looking concerned. “One of these days, you're going to have to trust me, too, Spencer.”

Having nothing to say to this, Shawn just nodded. He let Lassiter manhandle him over to the stairs as he blew his nose more.