A/N: Alternate ending to Psych Season 4 finale, Mr. Yin Presents. After Abigail is pulled from the water and Henry tells Shawn to go see about his girl.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. I just play with the characters in my spare time. Title borrowed from 80s movie of same name.
Shawn walked up to where Abigail is sitting with a blanket wrapped around her.
"I'm so sorry about all this," he said. She sat quietly watching him.
"I'm glad you're okay," he continued. She stood up in front of him.
"Me too," she said.
"Abs," he began again, but she looked down, effectively silencing him.
"This is not how I imagined coming back," she said quietly.
He chuckled and smiled, and she smiled too.
His smile faded.
"I have to go," he said quickly. Trying to figure out what to say next, he closed his eyes.
"I know," she said.
He opened his eyes to find her staring at him.
"She's not random," she said with a small smile.
"No," he sighed, "she's not."
She stepped forward and kissed him softly on the cheek.
"Take care of yourself," she whispered as she pulled away.
He smiled and said, "You too."
As she walked toward the police cars, he caught up with his dad with a new determination.
"I need to go to the station immediately," he said.
When Gus confirmed to him on the phone that they'd gotten to Juliet in time, he also said that she refused to go to the hospital to get checked out, insisting instead that she was fine. He knew she'd be at the station.
"Sure, son," Henry said knowingly.
When they pulled up in front of the station, Shawn said he'd get a ride from there and Henry smiled.
As he rounded the corner and saw her sitting at her desk he let out the breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. He paused for a moment to just watch her.
As if she felt him there, she turned and wasn't surprised to see him. He smiled, but she didn't.
As he walked toward her, she stood and gathered files from her desk. She began walking toward him and he said "hey" as she continued walking past him."
"Not now, Shawn," she said firmly.
"Then when?" he asked without missing a beat. It surprised her but she recovered and kept walking to the file room.
He followed her in. She sighed as she laid files on the top of the drawer cabinet and turned to face him.
When she didn't say anything, he began, "I was trying to do the right thing."
Still she said nothing.
"I'm so glad you're okay," he said moving toward her. She flinched away and he retreated.
"I'm glad your girlfriend is okay too," she said looking down and it sounded worse than she'd hoped.
He fought the urge to smile.
"Ex," he said and when she didn't look up, "still."
She moved to pass him to exit and he grabbed her arm, sliding his hand down to hers. She didn't immediately jerk away and he took that as a good sign.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, and she could feel his breath on her cheek.
She removed her hand from his. "You've nothing to be sorry for. Civilians first." She reached for the door.
"You'll always be first to me," he whispered. That must have set her off.
"When have I ever been first to you?" She demanded, facing him full on now.
Her attack mode surprised him. He stammered. Why is it she makes me stammer, he thought.
"As I recall," she continued, "that's at least twice you've chosen her over me." She was fuming now. And she was clearly jealous. This time he couldn't help but smile.
"Don't you smirk at me," she said pointing a finger in his face.
He did the only thing he could do. He laughed. But that was the wrong thing because she huffed, threw her hands up and stormed out.
By the time he contained his obviously glee at her jealousy, which to him meant she was in as deep as he was, he found she'd left the station.
He got a ride from a black and white to the Psych office, where he debated for at least an hour on whether to call her. Two unanswered calls later, he was on his bike and heading to her place.
She noticed him through the window coming up the stairs to her front door and waited for him to knock. After a good solid five minutes of nothing, she swung the door open and demanded, "What the hell are you doing?"
"I'm an idiot" was his response.
She shrugged and moved away from the door, effectively inviting him in. He shut the door behind him and waited for her to speak.
When she didn't, he said, "I'm an idiot" again.
"I think we've established that, yes?" she quipped, turning to face him.
He nodded and smirked. "So I should've gone with the boom box outside her window trick, eh?"
"Shawn," she said, in that tone that meant she was not interested in his shenanigans.
He took a deep breath and began, while staring at his shuffling feet, "You have to know … but then I guess you don't know … I mean how would you know … because it's not like I'm ever very … I mean I try to … sometimes I …"
"Shawn," she said again, cutting into his rambling.
"I love you" he said quickly, staring into her eyes.
She forced herself not to smile or to respond at all for that matter. She just looked at him.
He continued, "you're the One, Jules. You're my Diane Court. You're my Amanda Jones and Watts all in one. Hell, Jules, you're my Ladyhawke." She was watching him still, but her eyes had softened.
"I've only …. waited …" he continued, "because it … scares the hell out of me."
She looked down and he moved forward quickly.
"Not, no …" he paused for a second, "it scares me that you don't know if I'm yours … or you don't want me to be."
She raised her eyes back to meet his.
"But I'd rather deal with be scared than for you not to know that you're mine."
He'd not removed his eyes from her face the whole time he was talking. Now in the silence, he looked down. It was then that she spoke.
"I'm pretty sure I knew that when I saw you at the station tonight."
He raised his eyes to meet hers. "You know, both things," she said, a bit nervously.
He moved closer in front of her now and when she looked back up his face was inches from hers.
"So," she said softly. "So," he repeated.
"I intend to kiss you now, Detective O'Hara," he said, smiling and moving his lips toward hers.
Just before their lips met, she whispered, "It's about time."