Inhuman Intuition
Title: Inhuman Intuition
Word Count: ~1600
Rating: T! because why not?
Notes: Takes place in the same universe as Half-True Q, though involving two different Q characters. Star Trek: TNG/Psych crossover. Spoilers for True Q, the premise of Psych. For cliche_bingo, Telepathy.
It was an ordinary day in Santa Barbara when the Blueberry came around the corner (obeying the speed limit, thank you very much) and parked neatly in one of the spaces next to the storefront window with green lettering. Gus grabbed his pharmaceuticals case, straightened his jacket, ran a hand across his head, and walked into Psych.
"Dude, black jacket-purple shirt? No way would Michelle Park go for that."
Gus deflated. "Shawn, you told me Michelle was here."
"No," Shawn corrected, "I told you Michael was here." He gestured to Gus's desk, where a small bobblehead of the recently deceased King of Pop was bobbling, mid-dance. "But he was just an excuse to get you here, Gus, because something weird is going on."
Gus picked up the bobblehead and looked it over. "Something weird? What, like that time you thought the guy at Java Juice was stalking you? Or like the time you thought a cat was eating all your pineapple?"
"Gary was following me around for an unusual length of time. And how else do you explain the claw marks on the attacked fruit?"
"Answer the question, Shawn."
He had to think it over. "Closer to the cat, but weirder still." He walked into the kitchenette and opened the fridge door, staring inside. "Is this yogurt still good?" he asked. Then: "no, probably not, you got it two months ago when we worked a case at the grocery store and Yoplait was on sale."
Gus put down Michael Jackson, gave him a little salute, then looked in the kitchenette. "That's not Yoplait, Shawn."
"No, it's not. But Yoplait was on sale." Gus looked at his friend oddly.
"If you say so."
Shawn threw the fridge door shut, tossing his hands in the air as he turned away. "See, that's just it! I don't know how I know that, I just looked at the yogurt and thought about it, and then I did."
"You should really throw that out, Shawn."
Shawn stared, aghast. "Gus."
"You said it yourself; it is two months old."
With a deep sigh, Shawn opened the fridge, took out the expired yogurt, and dropped it in the trashcan.
"Happy?"
"Yes. Thank you."
"You're welcome. Now, to return to the topic at hand..." Shawn snatched up a page of newsprint from the stack that had been reduced to clippings after the fire hazard issue and, eyes shut, held it out to Gus. Gus took it, and rolled his eyes as Shawn lifted a hand to his temple. "That one's about Mr Yang. It's got that old photo from the T-Rex excavation, a lot of filler background about my time as a psychic detective, blah blah blah...and in the bottom right-hand corner is part of an article about a missing schnauzer that was finally found last month, being cared for by a lonely old man who lived two streets away."
Gus looked at the cut-off article, which read "Pet Thief at Lar", and glanced back up at Shawn. "What are you saying, Shawn? You've gotten better at spotting details?"
Shawn shook his head. "No, that's not...wait, no." He frowned, and looked confused. "Yes, that's exactly it. It's like some kind of...inhuman intuition."
"Unhuman."
"That too. But, returning to my point, it shouldn't be possible."
"And why is that?"
Shawn started to pace, counting off the facts on one hand. "I know the exact house that schnauzer was found at, the day, the name either owner called the dog, all of it. But I never saw the article that said anything about that--I was slightly south of the border that entire week." He turned around and sat down heavily. "Gus, there is no way I should know that."
"Sure there is!" said the blonde girl standing in the doorway, smiling. "Nice to meet you, Gus," she added.
Gus smiled back. "You too, Amanda."
Shawn stared at her. "...I'm sorry, who are you, exactly?"
"She already introduced herself, Shawn," Gus said evenly, still smiling. "Her name's Amanda Rogers, and she's here looking to hire us for a case. She walked in just a minute ago, after you handed me the paper and started showing off."
"Um...no she didn't. She appeared there, just now." Shawn glanced between Gus and Amanda (if that was her name). "You alright, Gus?"
But Gus didn't respond. Shawn stood up and walked in front of Gus. He waved his hand right in front of Gus's eyes, and he didn't even blink. "Gus?" Shawn asked cautiously.
"My name really is Amanda Rogers," Amanda piped up. "Well, it was. People still call me Amanda sometimes, though, so you can call me that if you want. It might make it easier for you to adjust."
Shawn stared at her, a little bit dumbfounded. "Adjust? To what? To this...weird new thing I can do? Or to people like you, Amanda, who can stop people in their steps?"
Amanda laughed, dismissing his statement with a wave of her hand. "He's not stopped. Time is."
"Time--what? I don't--what are you--" Shawn stopped trying to ask, instead waving his hands at Gus and at Amanda and making a frustrated noise.
"I'm not very good at this, am I? Maybe something more...appropriate to the time period?" With a strange movement of her hands, a TV screen appeared in her hands. One of the Harry Potter movies was playing. "See, this is me," Amanda said, pointing at the giant (Hagrid, Shawn suddenly knew, and only half-giant), "and this is you," pointing to the titular character.
"Didn't anyone ever tell ya, Shawn?" The insertion of Amanda's voice in the middle of Hagrid's line was a bit jarring, but somehow didn't surprise Shawn.
"Tell me what?"
"You're a Q, Shawn."
"...I'm a what?"
Shawn blinked, turned his head one way, and then said, "I'm going to have to agree with the kid. I'm pretty sure that's not how that scene goes."
"But that's how it goes for you and me, Shawn," Amanda said excitedly. "I say 'You're a Q, Shawn', and you say--"
"--'what's a Q', I get it." Then Shawn thought about it for a second and frowned. "Wait, no I don't. What's a Q?"
And suddenly he knew what the Q were, how they had come to be, their history, their rules, and what being one would feel like. He blinked, lifted a hand to his temple, and rubbed gently. "Uh, ouch. You can't give a guy a little warning before you bring on the info dump?"
"See, this is interesting," Amanda said eagerly. "You're the first half-human Q. I mean, I was raised as a human, but my parents were Q pretending to be human, which is a whole different game. We didn't know how I would develop, and we definitely don't know how you will."
Shawn smiled insincerely. "Well I'm glad I'm so entertaining for all of you, but I'm not interested."
She raised an eyebrow at him. "You're not?"
"Nope. Firstly because, if I'm getting this right, one of my parents is Q and one is human, and it doesn't take a genius to tell which one is which. So being a Q would be going along with everything my dad wants for me--which is apparently not what I thought it was." Shawn hmmed to himself, staring into middle distance. "I never figured him for an omnipotent alien. Omnipotent, yes. At times. But not an alien.
"Secondly because Q are immortal. Humans aren't, and I have human friends, as you can see," he said, gesturing at the frozen Gus. "And I won't get to ever see them again if I go with you, am I right?"
Amanda shrugged. "More or less. You could see him, but it wouldn't be the same."
"So you can understand why I'd rather stick around here," Shawn said. Amanda conceded the point, and he continued, "This body's got a good couple decades left in it, right? Probably? Let me keep it that long."
Amanda cocked her head to one side, listening to a faint buzzing sound Shawn could half hear. "Alright," she finally said. "On one condition. Don't use any obvious Q abilities while you're still human. Your intuition is fine, and the telepathy you're developing is okay too--most people already think you're psychic, it'll work for you. But no manipulation of matter. Or time and space. If your human friends are going to die, don't try to stop it. That's interfering too much."
"So, yes to learning what Abigail's favorite Judd Nelson movie is, but no to making the bullets in the gun aimed a Gus disappear?" Amanda nodded, and Shawn frowned. "I can't make any promises."
"Promise to try?"
After a long silence, Shawn sighed. "Yeah, I can try."
She clapped her hands excitedly. "Good! I'll see you in fifty years!" She did that odd flail of her hands again, and disappeared. Shawn stared up at the ceiling, as if she'd flown out instead of vanishing.
"Fifty years, really? You're only giving me until I'm eighty?" He sighed and waved it off. "Whatever. It's better than what Lassie's getting, I guess." He paled. "Man, I did not need to know that."
The door opened, and Gus walked into Psych. Shawn blinked, frowned, then realized that Amanda had turned back time. "Gee, I wonder what you're saying here, Amanda?" he muttered under his breath. ""Don't have a conversation with Gus about your new abilities?" It's so hard to tell." Then louder, to Gus, he said, "Dude, black jacket-purple shirt? No way would Michelle Park go for that."
Word Count: ~1600
Rating: T! because why not?
Notes: Takes place in the same universe as Half-True Q, though involving two different Q characters. Star Trek: TNG/Psych crossover. Spoilers for True Q, the premise of Psych. For cliche_bingo, Telepathy.
It was an ordinary day in Santa Barbara when the Blueberry came around the corner (obeying the speed limit, thank you very much) and parked neatly in one of the spaces next to the storefront window with green lettering. Gus grabbed his pharmaceuticals case, straightened his jacket, ran a hand across his head, and walked into Psych.
"Dude, black jacket-purple shirt? No way would Michelle Park go for that."
Gus deflated. "Shawn, you told me Michelle was here."
"No," Shawn corrected, "I told you Michael was here." He gestured to Gus's desk, where a small bobblehead of the recently deceased King of Pop was bobbling, mid-dance. "But he was just an excuse to get you here, Gus, because something weird is going on."
Gus picked up the bobblehead and looked it over. "Something weird? What, like that time you thought the guy at Java Juice was stalking you? Or like the time you thought a cat was eating all your pineapple?"
"Gary was following me around for an unusual length of time. And how else do you explain the claw marks on the attacked fruit?"
"Answer the question, Shawn."
He had to think it over. "Closer to the cat, but weirder still." He walked into the kitchenette and opened the fridge door, staring inside. "Is this yogurt still good?" he asked. Then: "no, probably not, you got it two months ago when we worked a case at the grocery store and Yoplait was on sale."
Gus put down Michael Jackson, gave him a little salute, then looked in the kitchenette. "That's not Yoplait, Shawn."
"No, it's not. But Yoplait was on sale." Gus looked at his friend oddly.
"If you say so."
Shawn threw the fridge door shut, tossing his hands in the air as he turned away. "See, that's just it! I don't know how I know that, I just looked at the yogurt and thought about it, and then I did."
"You should really throw that out, Shawn."
Shawn stared, aghast. "Gus."
"You said it yourself; it is two months old."
With a deep sigh, Shawn opened the fridge, took out the expired yogurt, and dropped it in the trashcan.
"Happy?"
"Yes. Thank you."
"You're welcome. Now, to return to the topic at hand..." Shawn snatched up a page of newsprint from the stack that had been reduced to clippings after the fire hazard issue and, eyes shut, held it out to Gus. Gus took it, and rolled his eyes as Shawn lifted a hand to his temple. "That one's about Mr Yang. It's got that old photo from the T-Rex excavation, a lot of filler background about my time as a psychic detective, blah blah blah...and in the bottom right-hand corner is part of an article about a missing schnauzer that was finally found last month, being cared for by a lonely old man who lived two streets away."
Gus looked at the cut-off article, which read "Pet Thief at Lar", and glanced back up at Shawn. "What are you saying, Shawn? You've gotten better at spotting details?"
Shawn shook his head. "No, that's not...wait, no." He frowned, and looked confused. "Yes, that's exactly it. It's like some kind of...inhuman intuition."
"Unhuman."
"That too. But, returning to my point, it shouldn't be possible."
"And why is that?"
Shawn started to pace, counting off the facts on one hand. "I know the exact house that schnauzer was found at, the day, the name either owner called the dog, all of it. But I never saw the article that said anything about that--I was slightly south of the border that entire week." He turned around and sat down heavily. "Gus, there is no way I should know that."
"Sure there is!" said the blonde girl standing in the doorway, smiling. "Nice to meet you, Gus," she added.
Gus smiled back. "You too, Amanda."
Shawn stared at her. "...I'm sorry, who are you, exactly?"
"She already introduced herself, Shawn," Gus said evenly, still smiling. "Her name's Amanda Rogers, and she's here looking to hire us for a case. She walked in just a minute ago, after you handed me the paper and started showing off."
"Um...no she didn't. She appeared there, just now." Shawn glanced between Gus and Amanda (if that was her name). "You alright, Gus?"
But Gus didn't respond. Shawn stood up and walked in front of Gus. He waved his hand right in front of Gus's eyes, and he didn't even blink. "Gus?" Shawn asked cautiously.
"My name really is Amanda Rogers," Amanda piped up. "Well, it was. People still call me Amanda sometimes, though, so you can call me that if you want. It might make it easier for you to adjust."
Shawn stared at her, a little bit dumbfounded. "Adjust? To what? To this...weird new thing I can do? Or to people like you, Amanda, who can stop people in their steps?"
Amanda laughed, dismissing his statement with a wave of her hand. "He's not stopped. Time is."
"Time--what? I don't--what are you--" Shawn stopped trying to ask, instead waving his hands at Gus and at Amanda and making a frustrated noise.
"I'm not very good at this, am I? Maybe something more...appropriate to the time period?" With a strange movement of her hands, a TV screen appeared in her hands. One of the Harry Potter movies was playing. "See, this is me," Amanda said, pointing at the giant (Hagrid, Shawn suddenly knew, and only half-giant), "and this is you," pointing to the titular character.
"Didn't anyone ever tell ya, Shawn?" The insertion of Amanda's voice in the middle of Hagrid's line was a bit jarring, but somehow didn't surprise Shawn.
"Tell me what?"
"You're a Q, Shawn."
"...I'm a what?"
Shawn blinked, turned his head one way, and then said, "I'm going to have to agree with the kid. I'm pretty sure that's not how that scene goes."
"But that's how it goes for you and me, Shawn," Amanda said excitedly. "I say 'You're a Q, Shawn', and you say--"
"--'what's a Q', I get it." Then Shawn thought about it for a second and frowned. "Wait, no I don't. What's a Q?"
And suddenly he knew what the Q were, how they had come to be, their history, their rules, and what being one would feel like. He blinked, lifted a hand to his temple, and rubbed gently. "Uh, ouch. You can't give a guy a little warning before you bring on the info dump?"
"See, this is interesting," Amanda said eagerly. "You're the first half-human Q. I mean, I was raised as a human, but my parents were Q pretending to be human, which is a whole different game. We didn't know how I would develop, and we definitely don't know how you will."
Shawn smiled insincerely. "Well I'm glad I'm so entertaining for all of you, but I'm not interested."
She raised an eyebrow at him. "You're not?"
"Nope. Firstly because, if I'm getting this right, one of my parents is Q and one is human, and it doesn't take a genius to tell which one is which. So being a Q would be going along with everything my dad wants for me--which is apparently not what I thought it was." Shawn hmmed to himself, staring into middle distance. "I never figured him for an omnipotent alien. Omnipotent, yes. At times. But not an alien.
"Secondly because Q are immortal. Humans aren't, and I have human friends, as you can see," he said, gesturing at the frozen Gus. "And I won't get to ever see them again if I go with you, am I right?"
Amanda shrugged. "More or less. You could see him, but it wouldn't be the same."
"So you can understand why I'd rather stick around here," Shawn said. Amanda conceded the point, and he continued, "This body's got a good couple decades left in it, right? Probably? Let me keep it that long."
Amanda cocked her head to one side, listening to a faint buzzing sound Shawn could half hear. "Alright," she finally said. "On one condition. Don't use any obvious Q abilities while you're still human. Your intuition is fine, and the telepathy you're developing is okay too--most people already think you're psychic, it'll work for you. But no manipulation of matter. Or time and space. If your human friends are going to die, don't try to stop it. That's interfering too much."
"So, yes to learning what Abigail's favorite Judd Nelson movie is, but no to making the bullets in the gun aimed a Gus disappear?" Amanda nodded, and Shawn frowned. "I can't make any promises."
"Promise to try?"
After a long silence, Shawn sighed. "Yeah, I can try."
She clapped her hands excitedly. "Good! I'll see you in fifty years!" She did that odd flail of her hands again, and disappeared. Shawn stared up at the ceiling, as if she'd flown out instead of vanishing.
"Fifty years, really? You're only giving me until I'm eighty?" He sighed and waved it off. "Whatever. It's better than what Lassie's getting, I guess." He paled. "Man, I did not need to know that."
The door opened, and Gus walked into Psych. Shawn blinked, frowned, then realized that Amanda had turned back time. "Gee, I wonder what you're saying here, Amanda?" he muttered under his breath. ""Don't have a conversation with Gus about your new abilities?" It's so hard to tell." Then louder, to Gus, he said, "Dude, black jacket-purple shirt? No way would Michelle Park go for that."