hackthis_archive (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
hackthis_archive) wrote2007-03-07 01:48 pm
hackthis_archive) wrote2007-03-07 01:48 pm
Entry tags:
Heroes babble & Psych fic -- The Bitch Seat. Gus. Shawn. Pre-series.
Last night ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
issaro gave me a play-by-play of her viewing of Heroes 1.18. Now, I admit upfront that when there's that much Petrelli in one episode I tend to get distracted, but then she said something I didn't understand.
issaro: Zucchini!!!!
hackthis: Huh?
issaro: Linderman and Nathan in the kitchen! When Linderman says he likes zucchini and asks Nathan if *he* likes zucchini!
hackthis: Is that what that conversation was over the pot pie? I totally missed that for my screaming about Malcolm McDowell being the scariest man EVER
issaro: Did you hear me? Linderman asked Nathan if he likes zucchini. It's phallic. He totally knows they're sleeping together!!'
hackthis: …. OMG! You're totally shipping Peter/Nathan. FTW!!
hackthis: Wait, did he really say that? Seriously?!
I'm still too shocked to be coherent. They really had this conversation? Jesus, why is this not up on youtube like The Scene of We Should Just Have Sex Now?
Who's making the 'Just Stay with Me' icons? Seriously. I need one rilly rilly badly.
Randomly: I think of the twenty basic plots Peter/Nathan cover, err, all twenty. Well done, Tim!
In other news, I have been kicking around the idea of writing Psych fic, but I'm hesitant because I only came in towards the end of the season, and I don't want to steer wrong, but you know, if you don’t try you'll never know, andantheia said this was okay, so you know, blame her. I am so in love with them.
Psych
Burton Guster, Shawn Spencer – maybe some Gus/Shawn (what?)
Pre-series. PG-ish
The Bitch Seat
Gus is sitting at the tables outside Starbucks, sipping at his non-fat mocha latte, reading The Santa Barbara Independent, and trying to look hip, yet intelligent, when a motorcycle rides up on the sidewalk next to him and scares the crap out of him.
In fact, he actually hollers that over the engine polluting the atmosphere and his ears -- and did he mention the scaring the crap out of him thing?
"Oh my gosh, what the hell!" he shouts as the motorcyclist -– motorcyclist? Is that right? Maybe motorcycle owner -– whatever –- as the owner just lets the engine race, and crap, Gus spilled his latte.
Now he is really unhappy.
"Hello, there's a whole parking lot over there!" Gus is still shouting as the owner cuts the engine and pulls his helmet off. "Were you not raised properly? Did your parents not teach you about the road?"
Nobody is more surprised than Gus when Shawn turns around and gives him this enormous grin of 'Guess what I did today!'
Gus shakes his head and covers his eyes. "Isn't she awesome?" Shawn's voice pervades everything around Gus, and in the now-returned semi-peace, Gus can hear the blood racing in his ears.
He's too young to have a heart attack.
"I am going to kill you," Gus says quietly. "I am going to take you out to the parking lot, and let a car run you over, and then my life will be better. No jury in the land would convict me."
When Gus uncovers his eyes, Shawn is putting down the kickstand and dismounting the bike.
And may Gus never think of Shawn and 'mounting' at the same time –- ever -- in his life again.
He winces as the chair next to him squeals against the cement. He'd been hoping that the really hot brunette reading Us Weekly in the corner was going to sit there. Apparently, not anymore.
"I had to look everywhere for you." Shawn is not hearing any of Gus's imprecations against his life. Big shocker there. "Ruby and I have been getting to know each other –- I think she likes me."
Gus narrows his eyes as Shawn reaches out and pets the monstrosity now parked next to them. "I cannot believe you did this," Gus hisses.
"I told you I was going to," Shawn protests. "I've been saying this since 1986! Why are you acting jealous? Don’t listen to him, baby," he croons to the bike, "Gus is always weird about strangers. He just doesn't know you yet."
Gus flails. "And I'm not going to get to know her either!"
Shawn has been talking about getting a motorcycle since they were in sixth grade, and Tom Cruise was roaring all over Top Gun in his Ray Bans and too tight jeans. Thankfully, Shawn outgrew the piloting thing, because there was too much schooling and too many numbers, and Shawn is also a little ADD and couldn't even sit still long enough for the recruiter -– but that's another story altogether.
Gus had kind of hoped that the motorcycle had gone the same way as the flying and the Ray Bans. Again, apparently not.
"Now, Gus," Shawn grins, "you know I love you best -- you don’t have to worry about that."
The horror Gus feels cannot be textually rendered. He knows this because he can't stop sputtering, and he just knows the hot brunette on the other side of the patio is watching them. Oh God, why is this his life? What did he do besides throw some things as Shawn's head when they were little? This much brain damage cannot possibly be his fault.
"No!" Gus hisses. "No! No! No! And No. And also, Shawn? NO!"
Shawn cocks his head to the side and looks around curiously. Gus knows the minute Shawn sees the girl, because his eyes narrow and he grins like Santa Claus just streaked across the room. "Gus, is this about that girl over there, because you know, girls think bikes are hot."
"No, Shawn." Sometimes Gus thinks 'No' and 'Shawn' are the most said words in his entire life. He tried to count how many times he said 'No, Shawn' in one day and lost count at around forty-three times. This was before noon.
"Be right back." Shawn's getting to his feet, and Gus can already see this scene playing out in his mind's eye. Shawn will walk across the patio, do that cute, observant thing he does, with the smiling and the white teeth and the charming, ADD thing, and then the girl will climb onto Shawn's bike and they'll ride off into the Santa Barbara sunset.
Oh, hell no. Not on his watch.
Gus grabs the hem of Shawn's shirt. "Sit down, Shawn."
Shawn blinks, all wide eyes. "Why, Gus, whatever is the matter? You look as though you're afraid I might do something crazy -- like ask that pretty girl over there if she's ever had a big engine between her legs."
It's Gus' turn to blink and he lets go of Shawn's shirt. "Hey, if you want to get slapped, that's fine by me."
"Oh, so you'd let me walk into a full-on assault. Some best friend you are. I bet she'd like to go for a ride," Shawn says defiantly.
"You didn't ask me to go for a ride," Gus says stubbornly.
"Well, I would have, but since you keep insulting Ruby, that seems a little pointless, doesn't it?"
Gus frowns. He has no idea how Shawn turned this around on him. This happens every time. "Never mind -- I am not riding the bitch seat."
Shawn cracks up. "I never called it the bitch seat."
"Yes, but I watch TV -- I watch TV with you -- and you know it's called the bitch seat."
Shawn shrugs. "But have I ever called you 'my bitch'?"
"No, because that's misogynistic, and I would slap you," Gus points out. "And I bet she would too."
Shawn considers this for a moment. "Slapping, huh? That's pretty bitchy."
Gus crosses his arms. "Would you rather I punched you?"
Shawn picks up Gus' latte and drinks it. "Not really," Shawn says, licking his lips. "This needs more sugar."
Gus growls. "It was fine the way it was until you drank it -- do you know how many people are killed on motorcycles every year? 2000, Shawn. Two thousand. Die. Dead. Gone. Buried. Never coming back – never mind the 50,000 people who are injured. Is that what you want?"
"Of course not -- if you don't come with me, I might die alone." Shawn's finished Gus' latte. Gus knows this because Shawn's shaking the container and then he turns the cup over and taps the bottom like maybe some of the liquid was hiding from him.
Gus can't believe this. "Oh, so you want me to die too? No, Shawn."
"We'll ride on the grass."
"Doctors call them murdercycles." Gus sputters as Shawn tosses his empty latte into the trash can. "And you owe me another drink!"
Shawn gives Gus that blinding grin again. Gus can only assume it's for the girl – except when he glances behind him, she's gone. "Where'd the girl go?"
"Oh, you mean that nice girl that was waiting for her girlfriend?"
"How do you know she was waiting for her girlfriend?" Gus sputters more as Shawn throws away most of Gus' newspaper too. "I was reading that!"
"No, you weren't, you were posing with it, but the girl is gone, and I am here, and you don't have to pose for me." Gus really hates Shawn sometimes. Especially when Shawn leans over the side of his bike and produces a plastic bag that he thrusts into Gus' hands.
"You can't give me things when I'm mad at you!" Gus retorts. "It totally screws up my flow."
"Your flow needs help anyway," Shawn says, getting back on the motorcycle and pulling his helmet on. "Again – that's why you have me. C'mon, let's go scare pigeons on the beach."
Gus can't talk right now, because he's too busy planning Shawn's death. "It's PINK. You bought me a pink helmet?! You are dead!"
Shawn grins. "But I thought it would really bring out the color in your cheeks."
"I hate you, Shawn." Gus is not going to stomp his feet, it just happens anyway.
Shawn laughs. "Okay, okay, that's not your real helmet. Your real helmet -- that has your name on it -- is being finished up by the shop. But if you want it, you have to come with me."
Gus is not pouting. "You got me a helmet with my name on it?"
Shawn sighs. "Yeah, but it wasn't ready when I left, so they gave me a temporary helmet so I could come and get you."
It's hard to be belligerent in the face of a helmet with his own name on it, but Gus can make it work. "A pink one? They didn't have one in blue?"
Shawn rolls his eyes as he walks the bike off the sidewalk and back onto the road. "Stop bitching and get on the bike, Gus."
Gus can feel his mouth thinning into a line, even as he stands up. "I'm going to do it," he says as menacingly as possible with a pink helmet in his hand. "But I'm not going to like it."
Shawn laughs as Gus swings a leg over the bike and climbs up behind him. "You're not going to like it," Shawn declares, gunning the engine, "you're going to love it."
If Gus shrieks like a bitch as they take off, he'll never admit it.
-end-
Beta byantheia The Awesome. Dedicated to all the Psych fans who have encouraged me, but especially to antheia, lyra_sena, slodwick and veradeath for their special OMGWTFITSTHEBESTYIS!!
Also, Psych people, if you're not reading Gus' blog. You are SO missing out. Everything I know I learned from Gus.
issaro gave me a play-by-play of her viewing of Heroes 1.18. Now, I admit upfront that when there's that much Petrelli in one episode I tend to get distracted, but then she said something I didn't understand. issaro: Zucchini!!!!hackthis: Huh?issaro: Linderman and Nathan in the kitchen! When Linderman says he likes zucchini and asks Nathan if *he* likes zucchini!hackthis: Is that what that conversation was over the pot pie? I totally missed that for my screaming about Malcolm McDowell being the scariest man EVERissaro: Did you hear me? Linderman asked Nathan if he likes zucchini. It's phallic. He totally knows they're sleeping together!!'hackthis: …. OMG! You're totally shipping Peter/Nathan. FTW!!hackthis: Wait, did he really say that? Seriously?!I'm still too shocked to be coherent. They really had this conversation? Jesus, why is this not up on youtube like The Scene of We Should Just Have Sex Now?
Who's making the 'Just Stay with Me' icons? Seriously. I need one rilly rilly badly.
Randomly: I think of the twenty basic plots Peter/Nathan cover, err, all twenty. Well done, Tim!
In other news, I have been kicking around the idea of writing Psych fic, but I'm hesitant because I only came in towards the end of the season, and I don't want to steer wrong, but you know, if you don’t try you'll never know, and
antheia said this was okay, so you know, blame her. I am so in love with them.Psych
Burton Guster, Shawn Spencer – maybe some Gus/Shawn (what?)
Pre-series. PG-ish
Gus is sitting at the tables outside Starbucks, sipping at his non-fat mocha latte, reading The Santa Barbara Independent, and trying to look hip, yet intelligent, when a motorcycle rides up on the sidewalk next to him and scares the crap out of him.
In fact, he actually hollers that over the engine polluting the atmosphere and his ears -- and did he mention the scaring the crap out of him thing?
"Oh my gosh, what the hell!" he shouts as the motorcyclist -– motorcyclist? Is that right? Maybe motorcycle owner -– whatever –- as the owner just lets the engine race, and crap, Gus spilled his latte.
Now he is really unhappy.
"Hello, there's a whole parking lot over there!" Gus is still shouting as the owner cuts the engine and pulls his helmet off. "Were you not raised properly? Did your parents not teach you about the road?"
Nobody is more surprised than Gus when Shawn turns around and gives him this enormous grin of 'Guess what I did today!'
Gus shakes his head and covers his eyes. "Isn't she awesome?" Shawn's voice pervades everything around Gus, and in the now-returned semi-peace, Gus can hear the blood racing in his ears.
He's too young to have a heart attack.
"I am going to kill you," Gus says quietly. "I am going to take you out to the parking lot, and let a car run you over, and then my life will be better. No jury in the land would convict me."
When Gus uncovers his eyes, Shawn is putting down the kickstand and dismounting the bike.
And may Gus never think of Shawn and 'mounting' at the same time –- ever -- in his life again.
He winces as the chair next to him squeals against the cement. He'd been hoping that the really hot brunette reading Us Weekly in the corner was going to sit there. Apparently, not anymore.
"I had to look everywhere for you." Shawn is not hearing any of Gus's imprecations against his life. Big shocker there. "Ruby and I have been getting to know each other –- I think she likes me."
Gus narrows his eyes as Shawn reaches out and pets the monstrosity now parked next to them. "I cannot believe you did this," Gus hisses.
"I told you I was going to," Shawn protests. "I've been saying this since 1986! Why are you acting jealous? Don’t listen to him, baby," he croons to the bike, "Gus is always weird about strangers. He just doesn't know you yet."
Gus flails. "And I'm not going to get to know her either!"
Shawn has been talking about getting a motorcycle since they were in sixth grade, and Tom Cruise was roaring all over Top Gun in his Ray Bans and too tight jeans. Thankfully, Shawn outgrew the piloting thing, because there was too much schooling and too many numbers, and Shawn is also a little ADD and couldn't even sit still long enough for the recruiter -– but that's another story altogether.
Gus had kind of hoped that the motorcycle had gone the same way as the flying and the Ray Bans. Again, apparently not.
"Now, Gus," Shawn grins, "you know I love you best -- you don’t have to worry about that."
The horror Gus feels cannot be textually rendered. He knows this because he can't stop sputtering, and he just knows the hot brunette on the other side of the patio is watching them. Oh God, why is this his life? What did he do besides throw some things as Shawn's head when they were little? This much brain damage cannot possibly be his fault.
"No!" Gus hisses. "No! No! No! And No. And also, Shawn? NO!"
Shawn cocks his head to the side and looks around curiously. Gus knows the minute Shawn sees the girl, because his eyes narrow and he grins like Santa Claus just streaked across the room. "Gus, is this about that girl over there, because you know, girls think bikes are hot."
"No, Shawn." Sometimes Gus thinks 'No' and 'Shawn' are the most said words in his entire life. He tried to count how many times he said 'No, Shawn' in one day and lost count at around forty-three times. This was before noon.
"Be right back." Shawn's getting to his feet, and Gus can already see this scene playing out in his mind's eye. Shawn will walk across the patio, do that cute, observant thing he does, with the smiling and the white teeth and the charming, ADD thing, and then the girl will climb onto Shawn's bike and they'll ride off into the Santa Barbara sunset.
Oh, hell no. Not on his watch.
Gus grabs the hem of Shawn's shirt. "Sit down, Shawn."
Shawn blinks, all wide eyes. "Why, Gus, whatever is the matter? You look as though you're afraid I might do something crazy -- like ask that pretty girl over there if she's ever had a big engine between her legs."
It's Gus' turn to blink and he lets go of Shawn's shirt. "Hey, if you want to get slapped, that's fine by me."
"Oh, so you'd let me walk into a full-on assault. Some best friend you are. I bet she'd like to go for a ride," Shawn says defiantly.
"You didn't ask me to go for a ride," Gus says stubbornly.
"Well, I would have, but since you keep insulting Ruby, that seems a little pointless, doesn't it?"
Gus frowns. He has no idea how Shawn turned this around on him. This happens every time. "Never mind -- I am not riding the bitch seat."
Shawn cracks up. "I never called it the bitch seat."
"Yes, but I watch TV -- I watch TV with you -- and you know it's called the bitch seat."
Shawn shrugs. "But have I ever called you 'my bitch'?"
"No, because that's misogynistic, and I would slap you," Gus points out. "And I bet she would too."
Shawn considers this for a moment. "Slapping, huh? That's pretty bitchy."
Gus crosses his arms. "Would you rather I punched you?"
Shawn picks up Gus' latte and drinks it. "Not really," Shawn says, licking his lips. "This needs more sugar."
Gus growls. "It was fine the way it was until you drank it -- do you know how many people are killed on motorcycles every year? 2000, Shawn. Two thousand. Die. Dead. Gone. Buried. Never coming back – never mind the 50,000 people who are injured. Is that what you want?"
"Of course not -- if you don't come with me, I might die alone." Shawn's finished Gus' latte. Gus knows this because Shawn's shaking the container and then he turns the cup over and taps the bottom like maybe some of the liquid was hiding from him.
Gus can't believe this. "Oh, so you want me to die too? No, Shawn."
"We'll ride on the grass."
"Doctors call them murdercycles." Gus sputters as Shawn tosses his empty latte into the trash can. "And you owe me another drink!"
Shawn gives Gus that blinding grin again. Gus can only assume it's for the girl – except when he glances behind him, she's gone. "Where'd the girl go?"
"Oh, you mean that nice girl that was waiting for her girlfriend?"
"How do you know she was waiting for her girlfriend?" Gus sputters more as Shawn throws away most of Gus' newspaper too. "I was reading that!"
"No, you weren't, you were posing with it, but the girl is gone, and I am here, and you don't have to pose for me." Gus really hates Shawn sometimes. Especially when Shawn leans over the side of his bike and produces a plastic bag that he thrusts into Gus' hands.
"You can't give me things when I'm mad at you!" Gus retorts. "It totally screws up my flow."
"Your flow needs help anyway," Shawn says, getting back on the motorcycle and pulling his helmet on. "Again – that's why you have me. C'mon, let's go scare pigeons on the beach."
Gus can't talk right now, because he's too busy planning Shawn's death. "It's PINK. You bought me a pink helmet?! You are dead!"
Shawn grins. "But I thought it would really bring out the color in your cheeks."
"I hate you, Shawn." Gus is not going to stomp his feet, it just happens anyway.
Shawn laughs. "Okay, okay, that's not your real helmet. Your real helmet -- that has your name on it -- is being finished up by the shop. But if you want it, you have to come with me."
Gus is not pouting. "You got me a helmet with my name on it?"
Shawn sighs. "Yeah, but it wasn't ready when I left, so they gave me a temporary helmet so I could come and get you."
It's hard to be belligerent in the face of a helmet with his own name on it, but Gus can make it work. "A pink one? They didn't have one in blue?"
Shawn rolls his eyes as he walks the bike off the sidewalk and back onto the road. "Stop bitching and get on the bike, Gus."
Gus can feel his mouth thinning into a line, even as he stands up. "I'm going to do it," he says as menacingly as possible with a pink helmet in his hand. "But I'm not going to like it."
Shawn laughs as Gus swings a leg over the bike and climbs up behind him. "You're not going to like it," Shawn declares, gunning the engine, "you're going to love it."
If Gus shrieks like a bitch as they take off, he'll never admit it.
-end-
Beta by
antheia The Awesome. Dedicated to all the Psych fans who have encouraged me, but especially to antheia, lyra_sena, slodwick and veradeath for their special OMGWTFITSTHEBESTYIS!!Also, Psych people, if you're not reading Gus' blog. You are SO missing out. Everything I know I learned from Gus.
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