head_psychic (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
head_psychic) wrote2008-11-01 02:49 pm
head_psychic) wrote2008-11-01 02:49 pm
Entry tags:
#254 - What was the longest day of your life? - (![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
theatrical_muse)
Shawn wondered if the little red numbers of electrical alarm clocks had formed a union somewhere, a place where all the little 8s and 2s and 0s met to discuss the amout of hours late night insomniacs were allowed to watch them. He found it a very voyeuristic way of living and was glad he wasn't a digit. Although, being a neat, wonky 7...
He rolled to the side, shifting his legs and placing his arms square over his head, trying to pretend he was a 7, blinking into the dead of the night, at least once every ten minutes and... no, hang on, what did they do the other nine minutes? Wait in a line? Shawn Spencer, the Seven of Ten Digits, did not wait in lines. Not even cool, red, LED ones.
"Shawn, stop shifting..." The sudden low grumble (and the way Gus tried to kick his shin) finally tore his gaze away from the alarm clock. He looked over at his friend with a frown, fascinated how Gus could fail so miserably in hitting something that was obviously in his way. “And stop watching me when I’m sleeping.”
"You're not sleeping," he retorted, then paused with a frown. "Dude, did you just use a Bridget Jones line on me?"
"The fact that you even know that is a Bridget Jones line, which I didn't, scares me."
"We watched that movie last week. Together."
Silence. "That was a different movie."
"You insisted on calling Amnesty International during the prison scene!"
"If the circumstances are really that bad someone has to do something!"
Shawn smirked, satisfied at this indirect admission of yes, I watched the damn movie, shut up and wrapped his arms around Gus from behind.
"Shawn!"
"I am in a cuddlish mood," Shawn explained, snuggling up to him.
"First of all it's cuddly, you can't use cuddlish in that grammatical context..."
"Cuddlishy mood then."
"That isn't a word, Shawn! Besides, it's way too warm to cuddle, I really don't need hot breath on my neck keeping me awake all night!"
Wait for it... waaait for it...
"Especially after a day like this! I still can't believe you let yourself free and I had to stay behind! With all those backstabbing, non-professional hostages selling each other - me! - out! To be honest? I can not accept that..."
Shawn closed his eyes, listening to the upcoming bank robbery rant, update 2.0, trying to find differences in the internal phrase structure. He had listened to it during the aftermath, the paperwork, while giving his statement, on the way home, at Taco Bell, in the kitchen, on the couch, during a classy remote control fight, all the three and a half minutes of brushing his teeth, while climbing into bed, during the traditional sheet fight until finally, finally Gus seemed to have worked most of the shock out of his system and his voice had drifted off to a incoherent muttering and then silence.
Shawn didn't like the silence.
The silence was what had kept him awake even though his body was determined to kick his ass for it after too many hours of adrenaline and worry and running around and pushing bank robbers out of the lines of SWAT teams. Gus's bitching was a constant reminder that he was at his side again, that he was here and safe and out of danger. He nuzzled his friend's neck, drawing an even more outraged tone into the rant.
It made him smile against the dark skin.
Muse: Shawn Spencer
Fandom: Psych
Words: 586
He rolled to the side, shifting his legs and placing his arms square over his head, trying to pretend he was a 7, blinking into the dead of the night, at least once every ten minutes and... no, hang on, what did they do the other nine minutes? Wait in a line? Shawn Spencer, the Seven of Ten Digits, did not wait in lines. Not even cool, red, LED ones.
"Shawn, stop shifting..." The sudden low grumble (and the way Gus tried to kick his shin) finally tore his gaze away from the alarm clock. He looked over at his friend with a frown, fascinated how Gus could fail so miserably in hitting something that was obviously in his way. “And stop watching me when I’m sleeping.”
"You're not sleeping," he retorted, then paused with a frown. "Dude, did you just use a Bridget Jones line on me?"
"The fact that you even know that is a Bridget Jones line, which I didn't, scares me."
"We watched that movie last week. Together."
Silence. "That was a different movie."
"You insisted on calling Amnesty International during the prison scene!"
"If the circumstances are really that bad someone has to do something!"
Shawn smirked, satisfied at this indirect admission of yes, I watched the damn movie, shut up and wrapped his arms around Gus from behind.
"Shawn!"
"I am in a cuddlish mood," Shawn explained, snuggling up to him.
"First of all it's cuddly, you can't use cuddlish in that grammatical context..."
"Cuddlishy mood then."
"That isn't a word, Shawn! Besides, it's way too warm to cuddle, I really don't need hot breath on my neck keeping me awake all night!"
Wait for it... waaait for it...
"Especially after a day like this! I still can't believe you let yourself free and I had to stay behind! With all those backstabbing, non-professional hostages selling each other - me! - out! To be honest? I can not accept that..."
Shawn closed his eyes, listening to the upcoming bank robbery rant, update 2.0, trying to find differences in the internal phrase structure. He had listened to it during the aftermath, the paperwork, while giving his statement, on the way home, at Taco Bell, in the kitchen, on the couch, during a classy remote control fight, all the three and a half minutes of brushing his teeth, while climbing into bed, during the traditional sheet fight until finally, finally Gus seemed to have worked most of the shock out of his system and his voice had drifted off to a incoherent muttering and then silence.
Shawn didn't like the silence.
The silence was what had kept him awake even though his body was determined to kick his ass for it after too many hours of adrenaline and worry and running around and pushing bank robbers out of the lines of SWAT teams. Gus's bitching was a constant reminder that he was at his side again, that he was here and safe and out of danger. He nuzzled his friend's neck, drawing an even more outraged tone into the rant.
It made him smile against the dark skin.
Muse: Shawn Spencer
Fandom: Psych
Words: 586