Hi! This is a song fic based on Seatbacks and Traytables, by Fountains of Wayne. Set in the future, by an undetermined amount of years. I don't, to my great despair, own Psych or Fountains of Wayne. Sorry if Shawn is OOC, but this is in the future. Who knows what has happened to him in the past, which is our future presently?

Seat Backs And Tray Tables Up.

Seat backs, and tray tables up. Stow your newspapers and cups. We're about to touch down, midwestern town, through the haze.

The voice sounded over the intercom, dripping with the class and authority it represented. Rubbing his hands through his gray hair, Shawn Spencer turned his scrutinizing gaze outside, on the foggy clouds that covered whatever city he now found himself traveling to.

Customs a massive expense, and I'm digging into my pants. Is this Oklahoma? I remember this place.

Shawn Spencer walked down the hallways, ignoring the strong lights that attacked his eyes, and the bustling crowds that fought against him. As the crowds dispersed, meeting with various friends or relatives, as Shawn Spencer walked alone, the skies began to slowly clear. Shawn Spencer allowed a shaky breath as he walked to the window, and eyed the dark sky that was beginning to lighten. He found himself walking to the counter, asking for a flight, not bothering to care where it went.

Trade one town, for another. Delayed, now why did we bother? An X on the calender square- new city, same stuff.

He settled himself into the seat. As usual, he had requested one near a window, so he could let his eyes relax onto whatever city he had found before the plane touched the pavement and he was once again chained by gravity. A young woman sat beside him, and he gave her a crooked smile that would have once charmed her enough to make her giggle and blush. Now, however, she merely forced a smile, then opened a book on her lap.

Seat back and tray table up, Seat backs and tray table up.

He leaned back as he felt the plane gain speed, and then felt the freedom as the force disappeared and was replaced with not feeling the ground beneath the plane. He closed his eyes, then opened them to say goodbye to the city he had just left. He didn't really know where he had been. But he was sure he had been there before.

Seat backs and tray tables, please. Suddenly, I can't feel my knees. Second run movies- in flight shopping magazines.

The plane had a lot to offer to avoid boredom until the destination was reached, but Shawn Spencer was content in merely knowing he was away from everything that lurked on the surface of the Earth. He simply sat, trying to determine where he was. And where he was going.

Wheezing the air up there- got me back-ache somewhere. Is that Santa Barbara? I think I've been there.

He tried to remember when he had been to Santa Barbara, but he had been to too many places to recall.

Trade one town, for another. Delayed, now why did we bother? An X on the calender square- new city, same stuff.

His eyes scanned beneath the fog, and he ran a wrinkled hand through his hair.

Seat backs and tray tables up. Seat backs and tray tables up.

Shawn Spencer felt his heart in his throat as, for the last minute, he was free. Then the plane touched down, and he was back in Santa Barbara- though he couldn't recall when he had been here before. It had been years of traveling since he had last felt this ground beneath his feet.

Trade one town, for another. Delayed, now why did we bother? An X on the calender square- new city, same stuff.

Shawn Spencer exited the plane, and walked on through the hallways, ignoring the strong lights and crowds, as usual. As people met with old friends and relatives, Shawn Spencer walked alone. He found himself walking to the counter, asking for a flight, not bothering to care where it went.

Seat backs and tray tables up. Seat backs and tray tables up.

FIN

That was it. R&R!