Fic: An Eye For An Eye

[csi_sanders1129]

Title: An Eye For An Eye
Chapters: 1/1
Author: csi_sanders1129 
Genre: Casefile. Crossover. Romance. Humor. Drama.
Ratings: M for language.
Word Count: ~4425
Pairings/Characters: Perry/Harry. Shawn/Gus - undertones if you squint.
Synopsis: Shawn and Gus embark on a quest to L.A. to help out a friend of the Chief.
Comments: Those of you who know nothing about Psych - Shawn = pineapple loving fake psychic, who uses his keen observational skills to solve cases. Gus = Shawn's best friend. For those of you who know nothing about KKBB, where on earth have you been? Go see it. No one in the fic is mine, sans original made up characters. Enjoy. For KKBBFF prompt - Pineapple. 
 

The incessant poking was what finally drove him to the verge of consciousness.

“Gusssss…” The all too familiar voice called, in what was clearly not it’s first attempt of the morning. “Gus, come on, wake up, Rip Van Rumpelstiltskins.”

Gus rolled over, his head buried under his pillow. Why his bedmate was up this early was beyond him. “I don’t think that was his name, Shawn. Now, why are you waking me up so early?”

“ROAD TRIP!”

Gus groaned. “Oh, ho, no. You see, some of us have to work. And there’s no way I’m falling for your allergy pill stunt again.” He was still quite ticked over that whole incident.

Shawn pouted. “Aw, come on. I even made you coffee.” He offered a travel mug and topped it off with his puppy dog eyes. “Please? It‘s a road trip, how can you say no?”

Gus, however, was having none of it. “I am so not falling for that, Shawn. I wasn’t born yesterday.” He snorted in amusement at the cup of undoubtedly laced coffee and made for the untainted caffeine that would surely be waiting in the coffee maker.

Shawn sipped casually at the coffee in the mug he’d offered Gus as his friend downed a cup from the pot. ”Fine, have it your way, then.”

Gus collapsed not five minutes later.

***

“Hey, Karen.” The voice on the other end of the line sounded uncharacteristically concerned, prompting the Chief of the Santa Barbara Police Department to attention.

“Perry?” She questioned, sure this must not be the cynical private detective that occasionally called her in reference to cases.

There was a pause on the other end of the line. “Yeah. Ugh, listen. I might need a favor.”

Perry Van Shrike, asking her for help? When had pigs started to fly? “And what might that be?”

“My business partner is missing.”

“I thought you only ever worked alone?” She asked, surprised. In all the years she’d known him he’d never worked with anyone.

A loud sigh from the other end of the line. “Long story. But, I need some help. Do you have anyone to spare?”

The thought of a few days without the insanity that was Shawn Spencer fluttering around the station came to mind and she grinned. “I know just who to send.” She promised. “I’ll have him out there by lunch.”

The psychic in question was out in the bullpen, undoubtedly irking Detective Lassiter into another bad mood at an hour that would leave her head detective in a foul mood for the rest of the day. “Hey, Mr. Spencer!” She shouted, after hanging up with Perry. “In here.”

The young man came skipping into her office. “Yes, Chief?”

“Feel like a trip to LA?”

***

“I can’t believe you drugged me. Again.” Gus grumbled, as he returned to consciousness. No longer in his pajamas, he now sat fully dressed in suit and tie in the passengers seat of his own car.

Shawn only shrugged, glancing at the directions he’d printed. “Yeah, yeah. We’re not gonna play that whole not talking to me thing again, are we? ‘Cause I kinda need you to read me these directions.” He made a quick right off of one of the freeway exits. “I swear, LA is like one big concrete playground.”

“LA? Why, exactly, are we in Los Angeles? You forgot to mention that before you drugged me.”

Shawn shot him an eye roll. “Oh, come on, let it go. We both know you were gonna come along. I just cut out all of that annoying arguing you would have done before you agreed.” Glimpsing at the directions again, he made another turn onto a side road.

Gus gave up. “Okay, fine. Why are we here?”

“The Chief asked for this as a favor. A Private Detective friend of hers has a missing partner and needs a hand with the case.” Shawn explained, having been quickly briefed before he’d been sent off.

“She actually just gave you a case?” He asked, amazed. “This has to be some sort of trick.”

Shawn pulled into a parking spot on the street in front of a three story loft. “Why must you be so negative, Gus? You don’t think that the Chief is just growing to accept my abilities and trusts us to work a case by ourselves?”

Gus climbed out of the car, a bit unsteadily as the drugs were clearly still in his system. “No, not at all. I think you-- Did you bring a pineapple?”

“Of course I did. It’s impolite to meet someone for the first time without the deliciousness that is a ripe, juicy, pineapple.” Shawn scoffed, as if this knowledge were the most obvious thing in the world.

“Have you ever thought that not everybody loves pineapples like you do?” He pointed out, as they approached the door to the loft.

“Blasphemy, Gus.”

“This is a nice place. What’s the deal here?” Gus asked, deciding the topic of pineapples was better left behind them. “Is this P.I. a high roller or something. We definitely don‘t make this much money.”

“The Chief didn’t say anything like that.” Shawn said, as he looked around. The outside of the loft was pretty nondescript, just a sign that read Private Detective Agency, Sentron Inc., with office hours and a phone number.

“Are you the guys Karen sent?” A voice disturbed Shawn from his preliminary scanning of the exterior.

Gus nodded, deciding to speak first lest Shawn stick him with some insane name like Dr. Mc Took Took… again. “Yes. I’m Burton Guster. This is Shawn Spencer. He’s a psychic.” He held out a hand to the man, but received only a perplexed look in return.

“A psychic?”

“Yup. I know, you must be so jealous. Here.” He dropped the pineapple in the still unidentified man’s arms and stepped past him into the loft, the first floor of which appeared to be an office area.

“Ugh… you really expect me to believe you’re a psychic?”

A quick glance around the room afforded him enough information to hopefully shock the man into believing him. “Your name is….” He half-closed his eyes, pressing a hand to his head. “I’m getting a P… Perry! And the missing person is your business partner. H… Henry? No.… Harrison… Harry! Hey, it rhymes, cool!”

Perry was unimpressed. “Hey, squinty, I know Karen briefed you. And our names are on the desks.”

“Fair enough. Might you be interested in telling us some more about the case?” Shawn asked, eyes still subtly scanning for clues.

“My business partner, Harry Lockhart, is missing. He was supposed to come back here with info on a case he took last night. He still hasn’t shown up.” Perry explained. “The idiot tends to get himself into less than helpful situations far more often that I’d like to admit, so…”

Shawn nodded. “I understand. If you’d just give us a moment. I need to, ugh, contact the spirits and see if they have any information for me.”

Still skeptical, he lingered for a moment. When Shawn added a pointed look, he shrugged and made for the stairs. “Ugh. Fine. I have a phone call to make.” And with that, he moved upstairs to call the Chief.

***

“You sent me a psychic?” Perry’s incredulous voice interrupted the calming silence that had come about with Shawn Spencer out of town - even if it left her with an extra case to deal with. She‘d been planning on offering one to Shawn before Perry had called earlier. “A psychic?”

“Mr. Spencer has worked with us on several cases, Perry. He’s good. His father was a cop, he knows procedure, too.” She explained, having expected the call. She walked out into the bullpen, and dropped a file on Lassiter’s desk before returning to her office. “Trust me. He can help.”

Perry was clearly not convinced. “He brought me a pineapple.”

“I have two of them on my desk now. That’s just some odd thing he does.” The Chief sighed, spotting the detective knocking on the door to her office, clearly questioning why he was being given a new case when he still had three open ones. “I have to go, Perry. Keep me updated.”

“Alright.” The P.I. agreed, hanging up to go check on his two guests.

***

“Interesting…” Shawn mused, standing behind Harry’s desk. A note was scrawled in sloppy chicken scratch handwriting.

Missing person case. Guy moved from NY. Trying to find a former business partner who flaked on him a while ago. Coming by at 5.

Other notes were written on the paper, a meeting place - presumably just down the street given the address, and a phone number.

Also, in the trash can, was half of a parking stub with a series of numbers written on the back. 3-67. NSP8302. Followed by another phone number beneath that.

“You find anything?” Gus asked, standing guard by the stairs to warn him when their host returned.

“Yeah, quite a bit.” Still searching, his eyes fell on the coat rack by the door, quirking his head at the number of them, and how worn the first one on the hook seemed to be. “Huh.”

“What?” Gus asked, still curious. But, before Shawn could answer him, Gus heard movement. “He’s coming.”

Shawn threw himself down in Harry’s chair, propping his feet up on the desk - as he knew must be a habit for their missing person, based on the scuff marks on the desk.

“Is he… okay?” Perry asked, slightly concerned for the psychic who seemed to be in the bouts of an epileptic seizure.

Gus nodded. “Yup. He’s perfectly fine.”

Perry clapped to get Shawn‘s attention. “Hey! Theatrics are not required! And feet off the desk.”

Shawn stopped flailing about long enough to glare. “I’m sensing he left in a hurry.”

“Why might you say that?”

Shawn closed his eyes and spun around in the swivel chair, stopping when he was pointing at the coat rack. “Didn’t take his jacket. It’s winter.”

“Hmm.” Perry thought. “Okay, I’ll give you that one.” He noted, as Harry’s favorite jacket was still on it’s hook. “Why would he leave in a hurry, though? He’s not even supposed to be taking cases without my say so and I had him working on case files.”

“Maybe he had a family emergency or had a break through on another case?” Gus suggested.

Perry shook his head. “No, the idiot can never keep his ideas to himself, he would have called me.”

Gus shrugged. “In all fairness, I’m not the psychic.”

“Gus. Shush. You’re interrupting. I’m also sensing he may have been driving to meet someone.”

“No way. He doesn’t have a car and I was out in mine.” Perry responded.

Shawn mulled that over for a moment. “Well, I’m seeing a parking garage stub, with numbers… ugh… 3-67.”

“That doesn’t mean anything to me. And there’s a ton of parking garages around here.” Perry sighed, losing what little faith he had in the psychic.

“Say… when did you get back last night?”

“Around seven. Why?”

“I’m seeing a vision of a clock. 5pm. I’m also getting … random letters and numbers? A serial number? No! It’s a license plate! Where’s the nearest parking garage?” Shawn demanded.

***

Five minutes later, they were outside of the parking garage one street over.

Shawn was leading, Gus and Perry watching as he bounced around the first floor. “No! Not this one!” He declared, slowly maneuvering his way upwards. The second floor was cleared with much the same results. “Not this one either!”

“Is he always like this?” Perry wondered, as they made their way up to the third floor.

“Unfortunately, yes.” Gus deadpanned, just in time to watch Shawn slam into a blue Impala parked in one corner. Thankfully, the alarm did not go off.

“This one! This is it!” Shawn shouted. “It’s the license plate I saw. And it’s in spot 67 on the third floor!”

Perry stared, unable to explain how Shawn had guessed that. “Well, fuck me,” He snorted, crossing to examine the vehicle. “It’s unlocked.” Of course, it still wasn’t tied to Harry’s disappearance.

“Someone probably wanted it to get stolen.” Gus suggested. “I don’t know why. That’s a brand new car. Still has the sticker from the car dealer.” He added, as he walked around the side.

Shawn had the door open before Perry could stop him. “Hey, idiot, you’re contaminating evidence, you know.” Perry growled, still searching for visible clues himself.

“Please. Do you want to find your friend or not?” Shawn retorted, now sitting in the driver’s seat. “I’m sensing a struggle around this car.” He said, hands fumbling for the trunk release.

Perry stared at it’s content from where he stood behind the car. “That… Can’t be good.”

“What?” Gus asked, moving to stand beside the P.I. “Oh.”

“Let’s go see if the car dealer knows anything about this.” He’d never admit it, but it had been one of the most terrifying things Perry had ever seen.

Blood. Harry’s blood. 

***

They needed a plan. Brian Mosley, the car dealer that had greeted them when they’d walked into the car dealership listed on the information of the Chevy Impala was acting quite suspiciously. Granted, Shawn and Perry’s line of questioning was hardly subtle, with questions like ‘Has anyone purchased a blue Chevy Impala lately?’ and ‘Are any of your vehicles missing?’ The idea of police questioning was clearly not on the guy’s to-do list.

“Gus, go distract him.” Shawn ordered, knowing something important must have been on the computer for the man to have shut it off so quickly when he and Perry had followed him into his office to question him.

“Me? Why me?” Gus demanded. “No. I’m always the bait. Why aren’t you ever the distraction?”

Shawn snorted. “Please, Gus. My good looks are all the distraction I need.” He ignored the mocking laugh from Perry. “Besides, the guy saw me already.”

“Fine.” Gus huffed, pretending to look amongst the cars as he wandered over towards the suspicious man.

The car salesman had moved back towards his office, but quickly approached when Gus neared him. “Can I help you?”

Gus nodded, resigning himself to hearing out the merits of the new Chevy Aveo over the Cobalt. “Yeah, I’m looking to buy a new car.”

***

Perry stood guard at the door while Shawn crept around their salesman’s office. “So, you always sneak around like this? Shouldn’t a psychic be able to know this stuff without actually having to look?”

Shawn waited for the computer to load while he searched the rest of the room, finding nothing. “Sometimes the spirits are less than giving and I need some help prompting them to offer useful information. Evidence is useless without context, is it not?”

“True.” The P.I. had to agree. “You found anything?”

“Our guy was reading an email from someone from out of town about renting a car.” Shawn summarized. “Ooh!”

“What?” Perry spun around.

“He has coupons to get free pancakes at IHOP!”

He groaned. It was amazing. Harry was more attentive than this. “Hey, focus, please.”

Shawn nodded. “Right. Ugh. The emails from an R. Taylor. New York address. He replied to it, too.”

“Anything useful there?”

“Well, our guys name is Richie. And I hope he enjoyed the use he got out of his brand new Blue Chevy Impala. With instructions to leave it in a certain parking garage when he was done with it.” Shawn clutched his head in what was surely another psychic vision. “I’m seeing a connection to New York…” He cringed, as if deep in thought. “Didn’t the case he took without your permission have something to do with New York?”

“Yeah. Some guy from out of town looking for… Shit.” Perry froze, the realization hitting him like a ton of bricks. “Fuck. It’s Harry’s ex-business partner.”

“You couldn’t have mentioned any angry ex-business partners at the beginning of all of this?” Shawn asked, incredulous. “Like, first, maybe?”

“Harry said the guy was --” Perry was interrupted by voices approaching. “He’s coming back.”

“Come on, we’ve got to get out of here. Gus must have run out of stall tactics.” Shawn headed out the door, expecting Perry to follow, but he didn’t. “What are you doing?”

He didn‘t budge. “I’m getting answers.”

Shawn made to protest, but the man was too close, so he took off down a nearby hallway and out of sight.

Mosley was pinned against the wall before he even realized his office was not as vacant as he’d left it. “Are you insane?” The man gasped in shock.

“You know what’s going on. You rented that car to some guy from New York. That car had blood in it. My friend’s blood. And if you don’t tell me where I can find him, now, then I guess I’ll just have to turn you over to the police.” A pause, and then a smirk. “I’m going to do that anyway, but my way involves a few bruises and a less than pleasant cellmate when they lock you up.”

“I’m not saying anything.” The guy managed to squeak out.

Perry raised an arm to hit the guy. “I took a bullet for the guy you helped them kidnap. You really think I won’t hit you?”

Three punches later, the salesman had changed his mind. “Alright, alright! I’ll talk!” He whimpered. “That guy, Richie. He’s pulling off some bank job. He wants your friend as a fall guy.”

“Jesus Christ. Can he go one week without getting pulled into shit like this?” Perry grumbled, before urging the man to continue. “They’re holding him in some old apartment building on Griffith Avenue. I’ll give you the address. Just don’t hurt me.”

“Much better.” Perry released the man, who went about scurrying over to his desk to scribble down the location.

“They’re planning the thing tonight. So you’d better hurry if you want to beat them.”

***

“Get in the car.” Perry ordered, as he walked past the two concerned men. “I know where to find him.”

“The guy told you?” Gus asked, surprised, as he climbed into the back of the P.I.’s car.

“Obviously, Gus. But, what were you saying about this Richie guy?” Shawn waved a dismissive hand toward Gus, curious as to how the case connected. “You said he was Harry’s ex-business partner? Was he a P.I., too?”

Perry snorted. “Not hardly. Harry… was into some bad shit before he came here. I only know what he told me about it, which isn’t much. But he thought the guy was dead.”

“What kind of bad stuff?” Gus prodded, as Perry drove them towards where they were keeping Harry.

“Stealing.” Perry answered. “Now, we need to figure out what we’re gonna do once we find him.” He explained, after relating to them what Mosley had told him.

“Well, if the guy called and warned them, then our window of opportunity shrinks quite a bit. If he didn’t, well, then, we still might have the element of surprise on our side.”

“Thank you for that piece of knowledge. Did your psychic powers tell you that?” Perry mocked the fairly obvious piece of information as he made one of the last turns.

Shawn rolled his eyes. “Be nice, Snarky McCynical, or I won’t tell you my idea.”

“You have an idea? I‘ll call the local news.”

“Yeah. Hilarious. We should be able to get to the basement without being seen.” Shawn said, as if that were obvious, too. At the twin looks of confusion he received, he continued. “Well, if the place they’re keeping him in is anything like these buildings, then the entrance to the basement faces the street. If they have brains at all, they won’t be guarding the door too obviously and we can sneak in.”

“It pains me to admit it,” Perry sighed, as he threw the car into park half a block away. “But, that is not a bad idea.”

Shawn grinned as he climbed out of the car. “Gus, you stay here and be ready to drive.”

Perry tossed him the keys and led the way as he and Shawn headed off toward the address the car dealer had given them. “Stay quiet.” He reminded the psychic, as they crept through the shadows.

Just as Shawn had predicted, the basement door was unguarded. They slipped down the stairs to the door, which Perry picked open in seconds (a skill he had learned from Harry).

“Harry?” He called quietly, into the darkness of the room. There were no signs of life at all. Not Harry, let alone guards.

Until they heard a muffled call.

Harry was tied up in the corner, with a bag over his head.

“Oh, ouch.” Shawn cringed, following Perry to the injured man. He tugged at the ropes on Harry’s wrist while Perry removed the bag and gag beneath it.

“It was Richie.” Harry gasped in pain when Perry touched the wound on his head. He’d been pistol whipped when Richie had grabbed him, it seemed. “He’s alive. He’s alive.”

“We know.” Perry assured him. “You moron, have I taught you nothing in the last year? Like how not to get kidnapped?” He growled, as he hauled Harry to unsteady feet, holding a little tighter than was absolutely necessary. “Spencer, stand watch till I’ve got him out of here.”

Harry leaned heavily on his friend as he limped toward the stairs. “How’d you find me?”

“That guy back there helped.”

“What guy back where?” Harry wondered, looking over his shoulder and seeing no one.

Perry looked back, too, seeing no one. “Oh, fuck me. Okay, listen. Get to my car. Tell the guy driving to get over here and wait.” He made sure Harry was stable enough to walk and turned back for Shawn.

He poked his head in the basement door, but this time, the light was on and the room wasn’t empty. Shawn sat where Harry had been, his hands sloppily tied with the bag over his head. Perry was fairly certain he’d dome it himself to keep the kidnappers distracted.

“We’ve got to go now.” The leader of the group of five men said, hauling Shawn up. “Brian said they’re on their way. If this is gonna work we need to get moving.”

“You sure about this, Richie?” One said, holding Shawn’s other arm as he struggled.

The one who Perry had determined was Richie nodded. “Yeah. The guy left me for dead. Walked away and went to live the high life here in L.A. while I was in prison. If you wanted to back out, you shouldn’t have waited until now. Get going.”

They hauled Shawn, whom Perry was guessing they still thought was Harry, up the stairs as he ducked out of the basement door.

A moment later, they came through the front door, shuffling Shawn into a nearby car.

Perry raced back to his car, shuffling Gus into the passengers seat so he could drive. “They have Shawn.”

“They what!?” Gus demanded, panic stricken and clearly concerned for the welfare of his best friend.

“Shawn must have heard them coming and didn‘t have time to get out. They think he’s Harry.”

Perry followed the car as it turned down several streets, with Gus freaking out beside him and Harry flopped across the back seat. Finally, Richie’s car stopped in front of the bank they clearly planned to rob and four of the five went inside to start the heist while one of them stayed in the car with Shawn.

“Stay here.” Perry told Gus, reaching into the glove compartment for his Derringer.

Gus reluctantly stayed behind as Perry slipped over to the parked car. He watched as Perry crept up to the side door, where Shawn was clearly sitting and opened the door as quietly as possible. He pulled Shawn down quickly, but the guy in the drivers seat turned around, a gun of his own in hand.

“Hey!” He shouted, but Perry fired before he could alert the others.

“Run,” He told Shawn, shoving him in the direction of the car after he’d pulled the bag from his head. He fired a shot into the glass windows of the bank and then followed. He’d effectively set off the alarm.

The police arrived moments later, just as the others were running from the bank,, stuffed knapsacks in hand.

“Where is he?” Richie yelled, before spotting the driver slumped over in his seat. “Fuck.”

Perry, Harry, Shawn and Gus, watched in satisfaction as they were arrested on site.

***

After they had all made their statements and it had been determined that Shawn was unharmed, and Harry had only suffered some tiny wounds and a concussion that Perry would drag him to the hospital for in the morning, they all made their way back to the loft.

“You two heading home?” Perry asked, Harry still leaning against him as they stood by Gus’ car.

“Yeah. We have work tomorrow.” Gus said, sending a pointed glare towards Shawn. “Or rather I have work tomorrow, that I should have been doing today.”

“Gus, I was kidnapped. How about a little sympathy? I drugged you, you’ll live.” Shawn rolled his eyes before reaching into the backseat of Gus’s car. “But, I do have this.”

“A pineapple?” Harry asked.

“Another pineapple.” Perry corrected.

Shawn grinned, offering it to Harry. “Had I known you two were together, I would have just gotten you one to share, but the spirits were holding back that piece of information, for some reason.”

“They’re together?” Gus gaped, surprised.

“Please, Gus.” Shawn laughed. “Of course they are. Right?”

Perry glared, enough to confirm Shawn’s theory. “Fine. But, I’m still not buying that you’re a psychic. I’m sure even a fifteen year old girl who spends too much time on the internet could figure that out.” He scoffed.

“Uh huh. Right, Yeah. You keep telling yourself that.” Shawn laughed, climbing into the passengers seat. “Oh, and here’s our card in case you ever need some help again. Gus, let’s go.”

“Psych? Seriously?” Perry yelled. “As in ‘gotcha’?”

They were too far away to answer.

“Come on then, moron.” Perry shrugged, leading Harry inside. “Let’s get you to bed.”

Harry nodded, eyeing the pineapple with a grin. “After the hospital clears me and all…”

Perry quirked an eyebrow, waiting for the end of that sentence. “Yeah?”

“You know what they say about pineapples, right?” 


AN - For those of you who don't... eating them before sex is rumored to make a certain bodily fluid taste more appealing.