When Welshmen Fall From the Sky, Psych/Torchwood FanFic
TITLE: When Welshmen Fall From the Sky
RATING: PG-ish
WORD COUNT: ~1330
CHARACTERS: Shawn and Gus (plus Ianto Jones)
WARNINGS: Umm...warning for lack of a true plot?
SUMMARY: For psychflashfic's Challenge #10: Crossover. The Psych office gets an unexpected visitor.
AO3 Link | Master Fic List
Disclaimer: I own none of these men.
Author's Note: This is the first thing I've managed to actually finish in a loooong time. Many thanks to marcal_92 for playing beta.
ETA: Now with a Torchwood prequel here.
-----------------------------
Shawn blinked at the man who'd just appeared in the Psych office's kitchenette. He might've assumed the well-dressed stranger had merely snuck in through the ineffective back door (as Henry seemed to enjoy doing on a regular basis) but Shawn had been staring quite intently at the refrigerator for the past ten minutes, trying to determine just how pissed Gus would be if he ate the last of the homemade tapioca pudding (again) when the man had just...materialized in front of the sink.
The man turned slowly to face Shawn, his expression a mirror of Shawn's surprise and confusion. He was young, Shawn noticed. Not frat-boy young, but younger than Shawn by a few years at least. The stranger's expression suddenly went blank and he straightened up a bit.
"I certainly hope I'm not expected to clean that," the young man spoke in a haughty tone. The accent was vaguely familiar; Welsh maybe. (Shawn had once had a three-hour layover in Cardiff. It'd rained.)
"Dude, the only person who cleans that is Gus when he gets in one of his huffs and starts talking about 'responsibility' and 'cleanliness' and 'trash cans,'" Shawn said. He stood, moving cautiously around to sit on the edge of his desk, closer to the strange man. The man frowned at him, looking wary.
"This may sound a bit odd," he told Shawn slowly. "But would you mind telling me where and when I am?" Shawn laughed, but stopped after a moment when he saw the man's expression hadn't changed.
"Seriously?" Shawn asked.
"It'd be appreciated," the stranger said sincerely.
"Uh...you're standing in the illustrious Psych office." The man's look remained blank. "Santa Barbara..." That got a bit of a brow furrow. "California..." The man's eyes widened just slightly.
"And the date?" he asked quietly. Did the man think he could time travel or something?
"August eighteenth. 2008," Shawn finally offered. The man looked slightly stunned. "I'm getting the impression you're not from around here..."
“Uh, no,” the stranger replied. "Last I knew I was standing in my office...in Cardiff...and it was the eleventh. He always has to push the buttons," he added under his breath. Shawn took a moment to process that.
"Oh," he said simply once it'd sunk in. He slid to his feet. "Shawn Spencer: head psychic for the Santa Barbara PD," he offered, stepping forward to offer the stranger his hand. The man cautiously accepted the handshake.
"Ianto Jones," he introduced himself. Shawn couldn't help but feel a bit disappointed when no comment was made on his implied psychic awesomeness. He compensated by holding onto Ianto's hand longer than was polite. He was just getting ready to cover the younger man's face with his other hand in order to reveal all of Ianto's deepest, darkest, most Welsh, secrets when Ianto cleared his throat and took a smooth step back.
"Do you have a phone I can use?" he asked. "I should probably call my boss." Shawn frowned in disappointment as he waved a hand toward the phone on Gus's desk.
"Knock yourself out, buddy." Shawn sat on the corner of his desk again as Ianto picked up the receiver. Shawn half-heartedly rolled a marble along the surface of his desk as he prepared himself to nonchalantly eavesdrop.
"You just had to push the button, didn't you, sir?" Ianto said into the phone. Shawn raised an eyebrow at that. (Seriously, who actually used 'sir' anymore?) Shawn watched a small smile flit across Ianto's lips. "I'm fine," he said softly. "I'm just in California." Ianto inspected his nails as whoever was on the other end spoke. "Well, she has the right to be cross with you. And you know how she gets without her coffee." Ianto rolled his eyes as he listened for another moment.
Shawn watched in amusement as the younger man eventually heaved a put-upon sigh and spoke again. "Oh, you definitely owe me, sir." A slow smile crept up. "With the oils." The smile spread into a grin that Shawn had a feeling meant something extremely naughty was being expressed through the phone line. "I'll be home shortly, sir."
"So," Shawn began as Ianto put the phone back in its cradle. "Sleeping with the boss?" Ianto's cheeks turned slightly pink but his expression gave nothing away as he turned to face Shawn.
"He's only the boss in title," he said simply. His eyes fell on the open laptop on Shawn's desk. "I need to book a flight back to Cardiff. Mind if I use your computer?" Shawn shrugged and moved aside.
"Me Apple is Sue's Apple," he offered. Ianto gave Shawn an amused look before he sat down and began typing away on the keyboard.
-----------------------------
Gus opened the door to the Psych office, already pissed at Shawn. He'd let his friend take his car for the day on the condition he pick Gus up at the end of his workday. Instead, Gus had waited for almost an hour, trying very unsuccessfully to get Shawn to answer his cell phone, before he'd finally given up and called a cab. His anger didn't lessen any when he reached the Psych office and spotted the vehicle in its usual spot, just waiting to be driven.
"Shawn!" Gus yelled as soon as he spotted the other man, lounging at his desk with a Rubik's cube in hand.
"Gus!" Shawn yelled back happily, dropping his feet from the desk. "There you are buddy! Where have you been? We were supposed to be at my dad's for dinner twenty minutes ago." Shawn stood and began patting himself down in search of keys, wallet and phone.
"I was at work, Shawn. Where you were supposed to pick me up an hour ago," Gus said in a huff as he shoved his sample case into his own desk chair. "The agreement was you could borrow the car if you..." Gus's tirade trailed off as he got a look at the office around them. Everything was...clean.
"Did you actually clean?" he blurted out. Shawn grinned at him.
"Nope," he said proudly. "Ianto did! He even reorganized our filing cabinets!" Gus frowned as he looked over at the cabinets. For once, he couldn't see any file folders sticking out awkwardly from drawers that seemed incapable of closing.
"Who's Ianto?" Shawn rolled his eyes as he tossed Gus the keys.
"The time-traveling young Welshman who appeared in our kitchen this morning," he said in a tone that suggested it should have been obvious. Gus glared at him until he sighed. "His flight back to Cardiff didn't board until five this afternoon and he refused 'to wait even five minutes in a pit of unorganized chaos.' So he cleaned up some to kill the time. That's why I was late picking you up; I had to give him a ride to the airport."
"You weren't late picking me up, Shawn," Gus snapped. "I had to take a cab."
"Details, Gus. Details. We'd better get moving before Henry decides to throw our steaks out."
Gus stared as Shawn moved to the door. Sometimes even he couldn't figure out what was going on in his best friend's mind. When Shawn looked back at him impatiently, he laughed. "Whatever, Shawn," he said, deciding his friend was spinning one of his tales again. "But the cleaning service is coming out of the snack fund."
"It wasn't a cleaning service!" Shawn protested as they left the office. "It was a tall Welshman with mysterious good looks and a penchant for tidying! I swear, Gus, it was like a compulsion for him!" Gus rolled his eyes as he unlocked the car.
"Is this like that time in the tenth grade when you said a busty Armenian woman insisted on doing your math homework and that's why it wasn't in your own handwriting?"
"She was a beautiful woman who dreamed of a career as an Algebrarian. You know how I feel about beautiful women with dreams, Gus."
"Sure, Shawn."
/end
RATING: PG-ish
WORD COUNT: ~1330
CHARACTERS: Shawn and Gus (plus Ianto Jones)
WARNINGS: Umm...warning for lack of a true plot?
SUMMARY: For psychflashfic's Challenge #10: Crossover. The Psych office gets an unexpected visitor.
AO3 Link | Master Fic List
Disclaimer: I own none of these men.
Author's Note: This is the first thing I've managed to actually finish in a loooong time. Many thanks to marcal_92 for playing beta.
ETA: Now with a Torchwood prequel here.
-----------------------------
Shawn blinked at the man who'd just appeared in the Psych office's kitchenette. He might've assumed the well-dressed stranger had merely snuck in through the ineffective back door (as Henry seemed to enjoy doing on a regular basis) but Shawn had been staring quite intently at the refrigerator for the past ten minutes, trying to determine just how pissed Gus would be if he ate the last of the homemade tapioca pudding (again) when the man had just...materialized in front of the sink.
The man turned slowly to face Shawn, his expression a mirror of Shawn's surprise and confusion. He was young, Shawn noticed. Not frat-boy young, but younger than Shawn by a few years at least. The stranger's expression suddenly went blank and he straightened up a bit.
"I certainly hope I'm not expected to clean that," the young man spoke in a haughty tone. The accent was vaguely familiar; Welsh maybe. (Shawn had once had a three-hour layover in Cardiff. It'd rained.)
"Dude, the only person who cleans that is Gus when he gets in one of his huffs and starts talking about 'responsibility' and 'cleanliness' and 'trash cans,'" Shawn said. He stood, moving cautiously around to sit on the edge of his desk, closer to the strange man. The man frowned at him, looking wary.
"This may sound a bit odd," he told Shawn slowly. "But would you mind telling me where and when I am?" Shawn laughed, but stopped after a moment when he saw the man's expression hadn't changed.
"Seriously?" Shawn asked.
"It'd be appreciated," the stranger said sincerely.
"Uh...you're standing in the illustrious Psych office." The man's look remained blank. "Santa Barbara..." That got a bit of a brow furrow. "California..." The man's eyes widened just slightly.
"And the date?" he asked quietly. Did the man think he could time travel or something?
"August eighteenth. 2008," Shawn finally offered. The man looked slightly stunned. "I'm getting the impression you're not from around here..."
“Uh, no,” the stranger replied. "Last I knew I was standing in my office...in Cardiff...and it was the eleventh. He always has to push the buttons," he added under his breath. Shawn took a moment to process that.
"Oh," he said simply once it'd sunk in. He slid to his feet. "Shawn Spencer: head psychic for the Santa Barbara PD," he offered, stepping forward to offer the stranger his hand. The man cautiously accepted the handshake.
"Ianto Jones," he introduced himself. Shawn couldn't help but feel a bit disappointed when no comment was made on his implied psychic awesomeness. He compensated by holding onto Ianto's hand longer than was polite. He was just getting ready to cover the younger man's face with his other hand in order to reveal all of Ianto's deepest, darkest, most Welsh, secrets when Ianto cleared his throat and took a smooth step back.
"Do you have a phone I can use?" he asked. "I should probably call my boss." Shawn frowned in disappointment as he waved a hand toward the phone on Gus's desk.
"Knock yourself out, buddy." Shawn sat on the corner of his desk again as Ianto picked up the receiver. Shawn half-heartedly rolled a marble along the surface of his desk as he prepared himself to nonchalantly eavesdrop.
"You just had to push the button, didn't you, sir?" Ianto said into the phone. Shawn raised an eyebrow at that. (Seriously, who actually used 'sir' anymore?) Shawn watched a small smile flit across Ianto's lips. "I'm fine," he said softly. "I'm just in California." Ianto inspected his nails as whoever was on the other end spoke. "Well, she has the right to be cross with you. And you know how she gets without her coffee." Ianto rolled his eyes as he listened for another moment.
Shawn watched in amusement as the younger man eventually heaved a put-upon sigh and spoke again. "Oh, you definitely owe me, sir." A slow smile crept up. "With the oils." The smile spread into a grin that Shawn had a feeling meant something extremely naughty was being expressed through the phone line. "I'll be home shortly, sir."
"So," Shawn began as Ianto put the phone back in its cradle. "Sleeping with the boss?" Ianto's cheeks turned slightly pink but his expression gave nothing away as he turned to face Shawn.
"He's only the boss in title," he said simply. His eyes fell on the open laptop on Shawn's desk. "I need to book a flight back to Cardiff. Mind if I use your computer?" Shawn shrugged and moved aside.
"Me Apple is Sue's Apple," he offered. Ianto gave Shawn an amused look before he sat down and began typing away on the keyboard.
-----------------------------
Gus opened the door to the Psych office, already pissed at Shawn. He'd let his friend take his car for the day on the condition he pick Gus up at the end of his workday. Instead, Gus had waited for almost an hour, trying very unsuccessfully to get Shawn to answer his cell phone, before he'd finally given up and called a cab. His anger didn't lessen any when he reached the Psych office and spotted the vehicle in its usual spot, just waiting to be driven.
"Shawn!" Gus yelled as soon as he spotted the other man, lounging at his desk with a Rubik's cube in hand.
"Gus!" Shawn yelled back happily, dropping his feet from the desk. "There you are buddy! Where have you been? We were supposed to be at my dad's for dinner twenty minutes ago." Shawn stood and began patting himself down in search of keys, wallet and phone.
"I was at work, Shawn. Where you were supposed to pick me up an hour ago," Gus said in a huff as he shoved his sample case into his own desk chair. "The agreement was you could borrow the car if you..." Gus's tirade trailed off as he got a look at the office around them. Everything was...clean.
"Did you actually clean?" he blurted out. Shawn grinned at him.
"Nope," he said proudly. "Ianto did! He even reorganized our filing cabinets!" Gus frowned as he looked over at the cabinets. For once, he couldn't see any file folders sticking out awkwardly from drawers that seemed incapable of closing.
"Who's Ianto?" Shawn rolled his eyes as he tossed Gus the keys.
"The time-traveling young Welshman who appeared in our kitchen this morning," he said in a tone that suggested it should have been obvious. Gus glared at him until he sighed. "His flight back to Cardiff didn't board until five this afternoon and he refused 'to wait even five minutes in a pit of unorganized chaos.' So he cleaned up some to kill the time. That's why I was late picking you up; I had to give him a ride to the airport."
"You weren't late picking me up, Shawn," Gus snapped. "I had to take a cab."
"Details, Gus. Details. We'd better get moving before Henry decides to throw our steaks out."
Gus stared as Shawn moved to the door. Sometimes even he couldn't figure out what was going on in his best friend's mind. When Shawn looked back at him impatiently, he laughed. "Whatever, Shawn," he said, deciding his friend was spinning one of his tales again. "But the cleaning service is coming out of the snack fund."
"It wasn't a cleaning service!" Shawn protested as they left the office. "It was a tall Welshman with mysterious good looks and a penchant for tidying! I swear, Gus, it was like a compulsion for him!" Gus rolled his eyes as he unlocked the car.
"Is this like that time in the tenth grade when you said a busty Armenian woman insisted on doing your math homework and that's why it wasn't in your own handwriting?"
"She was a beautiful woman who dreamed of a career as an Algebrarian. You know how I feel about beautiful women with dreams, Gus."
"Sure, Shawn."
/end