Disclaimer: I do not own Psych or its characters…
Author's note: I know there is no way I can possibly do justice to the craziness that is Shawn Spencer, but I felt compelled to write that which would not leave me alone. Just a little Shawn/Jules fic…
Just another slow morning of perusing the Santa Barbara Police Department for cases… None had come to him, so Shawn Spencer had decided to go to them. Quickly glancing around the large office confirmed that he had made the right decision. Apparently, business had only been slow for the psychic detective agency lately.
He focused in on one of his favourite detectives. Okay, Juliet O'Hara was his favourite detective. Probably because she was the cutest one. Not that Lassie was a bad looking man. But as he teased the dour detective on multiple occasions, he just didn't swing that way.
The normally pleasant if not chipper female detective looked rather down this particular morning. A suppressed wince tightened her lips into a thin line as a police officer reported something or other case related to her where they stood near Captain Vick's office. More than likely, the officer was detailing what she could and would ascertain in more accurate detail from the report itself.
But Shawn had a suspicion that it wasn't the long-winded officer that was causing her pain. The way she shifted her weight from foot to foot more often than her normal mannerisms dictated made him suspect physical fatigue. However, the energetic young woman never seemed to get worn down so early in the day. And was she an inch or so taller this morning?
New pumps…it was the shoes. She had sacrificed comfort for taste and was paying the price. The delicate manner in which she made her way back to her desk confirmed his suspicions, as did the look of relief on her face as she sat down.
This was the perfect opportunity for some quality bonding time with Jules. And bar that, he might be able to sneak a peek at that report, and borrow a case in the process…
He hurried over to her desk in stealth mode. And while she was distracted he crouched down on the opposite side of her desk, only to pop up with his hands to his temples in classic Psychic Vision pose.
"I'm sensing…gah! Pain!" he declared. He peeked to evaluate her response. It wasn't the normally impressed or shocked Jules expression when he played to being psychic. But he'd win her over yet.
"Oh! Ow! Ow!" he exclaimed, picking up one foot and then the other until it looked as if he were jogging in place. The he stopped suddenly, and leaned in to whisper to Juliet. "Have you joined any tribes that worship Volcanoes? Any rituals involving hot coals?"
He rightly received a 'your completely insane' look from the target of his faux vision. And then she opened her mouth as if she were about to dismiss him as an annoyance, something he had never received from her. From the captain, his father, Lassiter, even Gus, but never Jules!
"Wait! I'm getting something else…" He began staggering about a bit until he was doing a sloppy rendition of Kevin Bacon dancing while humming the tune to Footloose. Normally, he would never ever submit to channeling Kevin Bacon, but to win Jules over, it was worth a try. Shawn could only take a few seconds of the torture before he collapsed to sit on her desk.
"Sunday shoes, Jules?" he asked after taking a moment to catch his breath. "They probably weren't the best decision you've made lately."
He gave her his most charming smile, to which she finally responded in kind with her more reserved one. It was always apparent that she wanted to show him more affection in the gesture than she allowed herself.
She sighed before leaning back in her chair.
"I've done this before," she confessed. "I saved up for a whole year to buy these adorable pair of stilettos to wear to my junior prom. Probably not the best choice for a night of dancing…"
Shawn let his mind wander to an image of Juliet in pink, strappy shoes…and well, nothing else…
"Shawn?" she probed, disrupting his fantasy just before it got good.
"I've got just the thing," Shawn announced, leaning in close to her once more. "A Shawn Spencer Special. A little Toe TLC."
"Give me your feet," he ordered, reaching down to grab her leg.
"No!" Juliet hid the objects of discussion beneath her chair, and then continued to whisper her concern. "Everyone can see."
"Oh, c'mon J-wait, that wasn't completely a 'no'," Shawn recognized the potential to sway her to his whim. And this gesture of kindness would definitely get him on her good side, or further into her good opinion.
Hastily, he surveyed the PD. The police chief was currently using her office. The room where they held informal interviews and meetings appeared vacant, except for the crime scene photos pinned to a board and half eaten donuts strewn across the table that indicated its occupants were only taking a break. Gus was chatting with some uniformed officers, trying to scout a case for them to weasel their way into… and looking rather unsuccessful, and more than slightly irritated at being dragged there.
There was always the women's bathroom, he supposed, but Shawn was pretty sure that the women wouldn't appreciate his presence there, despite the generous favor he was doing his friend. As for the men's bathroom… Shawn wasn't sure he even wanted to step foot in the sty.
"Aha!" he announced, grabbing Juliet by the arm and ushering her away from her desk. "I have just the place."
"W-what?" she scrambled to keep up. "Shawn, what are you doing?"
"Do you want a foot massage from your favourite psychic masseuse, or not? You acted like you didn't want anyone to know your weakness, but if you'd like we can do this right here."
He studied her closely as he continued to pull her along. She seemed to be wavering. Usually, she outright refused his advances, not that he was considering this an advance. Okay, he was, but he wasn't playing it that way. He was just a good friend willing to help out another friend in a time of foot fatigue.
"Here we are," He announced quietly and smugly. And with an expeditious and, surreptitious glance around, Shawn pulled her inside the janitor's closet along with himself. Finding an old desk, he cleared a spot off and with a pat of his hand, invited her to sit. Then he stretched his hands theatrically.
"Let these magic hands do their stuff," he announced, crouching down to slip one of the badly designed albeit attractive pumps off her tender, petite foot.
"Oh, God! Jules!" he cried, mimicking repulsion as he collapsed onto his back.
"Hey! My feet do not smell," she defended, moving to get up and leave.
"Wait-wait. I was just teasing," Shawn stopped her and sat her back down. "You have lovely feet. I especially like those cute little toes…is that magenta?"
He was rewarded with a blush and shy smile.
"Wow! Those shoes really do rub you the wrong way, Jules," Shawn commented as he considered her abused feet.
"Oh, ha-ha, Shawn," She responded.
"No, seriously," he countered. "They've even torn holes in your…uh…" What were they called? Tights, stockings… "hosiery?"
"Oh, no! I've got runs in my pantyhose?" Jules looked completely forlorn.
"Hey, I think it will be okay," Shawn comforted, confused by her distress. "You are wearing pants."
"But they were my best pair," she lamented.
"Yeah, 'were'being the key word."
Juliet sighed and pulled up a pant leg until it was bunched at her thigh. Shawn attempted not to stare at the curve of her shapely leg, and had to look away altogether when the lacy top of her thigh-high nylons made an appearance. She tossed it aside with disdain after rolling it off her foot and wincing at the contact.
"Want me to get the other one?" Shawn offered, knowing she'd refuse, but eager nonetheless to run his hands along the firm, shapely leg hidden under a black trouser leg. She gave him a "nice try" glare before dispensing with the other ruined undergarment.
"I'm hearing a lot of talk…" she teased sticking her feet out and wriggling her pink painted toes.
Shawn obliged making good on his offer, and was amply rewarded when she cooed in pleasure.
"Oh, oh that's nice," she moaned, and then gasped and flinched as he found a knot in the arch of her foot. With just a few more passes of his thumb, her discomfort seemed to melt away, and her gasps turned into contented sighs.
Thinking he heard a noise just outside the closet door, Shawn paused in his ministrations to Jules' precious, pained feet. He shook it off as paranoia…not that he'd mind being caught in the closet with a beautiful blonde detective. But she had barely agreed to let him touch her at all.
"Don't stop now," she whined, sticking her other foot out and giving him a pouting face. Taking into his hands what he considered probably the most attractive foot he had ever seen bar its mate, he smiled at his patient. Feet had never really done anything for him, but for the apparent gratitude Jules was sending in waves at him Shawn was ready to kiss her tiny little toes.
"Oh, that's the spot!" she urged him to continue as he discovered a knot in the right foot to rival the one in her left. Judging by the way she was reacting, it was probably worse than the other.
However, by the time Shawn was through, she was purring like a kitten. Well, if she had been a cat, she would've been purring like a kitten.
"Where did you learn to do that?" she asked, after she had put her torturous shoes back on and stood up. It didn't go unnoticed to Shawn that they were standing in what under normal circumstances would be considered an invasion of one's personal space. And that she didn't seem to mind in the least.
In fact the smile on her face was a little broader than the ones she usually granted him. And he couldn't help but test to see if she was also a little more receptive to flirting than normal. He gave her a confident, slightly on the arrogant side, look.
"They tell me I'm gifted," Shawn supplied in his best 'professor' voice. He opened the door for her as he continued to explain his magnificent massage abilities. "Magic Hands is the term I believe they…"
He trailed off as he saw the small, but keenly interested crowd outside of the janitor's closet. Lassiter had a very displeased look upon his face. And Gus was giving him the no-you-didn't look. The gaggle of uniformed officers appeared to be amused by something-no, by Juliet and himself.
"What were you two doing in the closet?" Lassie demanded.
"Shawn just wanted to help me out." The older detective's eyebrows shot up at what was misinterpreted as insinuation, before they once again came to rest in a scrutinizing position. One of the other officers present giggled. But Shawn was pretty sure none of them were girls. Maybe it had been Gus…
"Not like that!" Juliet objected, turning from pink to red. Gus continued to make accusatory, probing faces at Shawn, but he ignored them, afraid that he had embarrassed the blonde detective beyond recovery. Unfortunately, he couldn't think of a good excuse fast enough, especially one that that the others would buy. Sure, he always flew by the seat of his pants, and made stuff up, spouting it off fast enough that anyone who wasn't listening closely would believe… but these people were listening closely, too closely.
"He saw that my shoes were bothering me and was kind enough to give me a foot massage, okay?!" she blurted out under the pressure of her peers' amused looks and partner's displeased one. And then she was gone, scurrying away as quickly as was possibly in the demon pumps.
Satisfied or not, Lassiter was considerate enough to glare the other onlookers into dispersion for Juliet's sake. And then he turned his attention on Shawn, who acknowledged the man with a 'hey, what's up?' nod of his head like he was across a crowded bar and they actually held a mutual respect for one another.
Lassie's glare was filled with more loathing and contempt for the younger man than Shawn thought possible. He didn't believe he deserved that, even if he had unintentionally hurt Jules' feelings. And it wasn't like they were really hurt. She was just a little embarrassed. The detective finally turned away and back to his business. Perhaps, he thought Shawn had gotten the point.
Apparently, Gus, however, did not. He was still giving Shawn the what-did-you-do look. And as if that wasn't enough, that Shawn wasn't capable of reading his best friend of over twenty years' body language, Gus voiced his concern.
"What really happened in there, Shawn?" Gus asked quietly despite the inflamed sensibilities he was obviously suffering. "You two didn't…"
"No," Shawn defended Jules' honor. Although, if he wanted to be honest about the whole situation, it had been his actions that threatened her 'honor' in the first place. But those were minor points. "What happened is exactly what Jules said happened."
"You gave her a foot massage?" Gus questioned disbelievingly.
"What's the supposed to mean?!" Shawn asked, incensed at the insinuation of his friend that he was less than a compassionate, caring person. "I'm a very generous person, Gus. Who bought you that pineapple smoothie this morning?"
"With money from inside my car's glove box," the abused yet loyal friend muttered to himself.
"What?" Shawn pretended that he didn't hear his friend's sarcastic remark.
"It sure didn't sound like just a foot massage, Shawn," Gus commented, finding his way back to the point of the conversation.
"Really?" Being observant was his thing, but he was generally surprised by the revelation. "And I thought we were using our indoor voices. That would explain the crowd of spectators, however…"
"It definitely sounded like she was singing your praises," Gus confirmed why everyone's curiosity had been piqued.
"Dude," Shawn whispered, getting that special twinkle in his eye, he stuck out his fist ever-so-slightly, which didn't go unanswered. He could always count on Gus for the buddy support for getting somewhere with a girl, if it was only a foot massage in a closet. "I am good."
And even though she was currently sinking down in her chair, apparently in an attempt to hide under her desk, her cheeks still a robust shade of pink, Shawn knew that he had scored points with Jules for the kind gesture. He wondered how many more points he needed before he could turn them in for a prize. Maybe those x-ray glasses, or some air miles…or better yet, what he was really hoping for, dinner with a certain bashful blonde detective.
All in all, it had been a very productive morning for Shawn Spencer, at least on one front, but…
"The Supersmeller didn't happen to sniff out any cases for SBPD's head psychic, did it?"
A/N: Hope it was at least slightly amusing…