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ficwizeTitle: It's Called E.S.P.
Fandom: Psych! and X-men crossover
Prompt: 66 - hue and cry at![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
tamingthemuse
Warnings: Spoilers for the X-men movies and some general spoilers for Psych!
Rating: Teen - some language, potential violence
Summary: Shawn claims to be a psychic. Some people believe him.
Disclaimer: None of the lovelies are mine. But I have enjoyed playing with them!
A/N: Many thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
lostacanthus for the beta! As always, feedback is welcome and appreciated.
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Chapter 3
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“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this.” Gus griped, easing his Toyota Yaris into the flow of traffic.
“I can’t believe that you didn’t bring me carnations.” Shawn sulked in response, tugging at his tie and straightening his jacket carefully. “I told you that’s what I wanted.”
“This isn’t a date, Shawn. This is an investigation.”
“Yeah, but we’re going undercover.”
Gus looked at him sharply. “There will be no covers, Shawn. Under or otherwise.”
Shawn grinned at him, turning slightly to study Gus’ expression. “Am I not your type?”
Gus snorted and pointedly refused to answer, leaving Shawn to return his attention to his tie. “I hate dressing up like this.”
“This was your idea.”
“This is research, Gus. The plan is simple. We go to this benefit, you pay them the $200 for our tickets, that gets us into the room where we can help the Alcatraz victims and their families… and we get close enough to Weymouth for me to make sure it really is Mystique.”
Gus’ jaw dropped. “That’s the plan? That’s not a plan! That’s a disaster waiting to happen, Shawn. And I am not paying the $200. You are! This was your idea.”
“Yeah,” Shawn pulled down the sun visor and flipped open the mirror and went back to trying to straighten his tie. “But I don’t have any money.”
“What about the money that Bobby gave you in advance?”
“I spent it.” Shawn was tugging at his tie with increasing violence.
“On what?” Gus demanded, horrified.
“This tux!” Shawn gave him an exasperated look. “You don’t think I own a tux.”
“I own one!”
“You’re the sort of person who owns suits and tuxes,” Shawn went back to his tie with a shrug. “The world takes all kinds of people, Gus.”
Gus turned the car sharply, pulling over onto the side of the road and parked. He turned to Shawn and grabbed the ends of the tie, jerking Shawn to face him. With quick and practiced movements, he tied a knot and tucked the edges of the tie into Shawn’s jacket. “I own tuxes and suits because I have a real job, Shawn. One that doesn’t involve sneaking into charity benefits and trying to uncover mutant terrorists in cognito as vice-presidents of mega million dollar pharmaceutical companies.”
Shawn looked in the mirror appraisingly. “See? I knew you were a good choice for a date.”
“You’re not my date.” Gus pulled back into traffic. “And you need to concentrate. This isn’t going to be as easy as you think it is.”
“Sure it will, Gus.” Shawn grinned. “It’ll be as easy as having you fix this tie.”
Gus sighed and shook his head. “Maybe you should have told Bobby or Logan about this.”
“Nope, I’m not sure; it might still just be a coincidence. I don’t want them to get the wrong idea.” Shawn pulled the magazine out of the bag at his feet and flipped to the dog-eared page to stare at it again.
“What idea is that, Shawn? That you’re not really a psychic?” Gus pulled into the parking lot of the country club and drove the car towards the bored looking valet in a red shirt. “That would be the right idea.” He tossed Shawn another annoyed look and glared at him. “Just remember… these are my coworkers, my peers. Don’t do anything to embarrass me.”
“Gus,” Shawn affected a hurt tone and stared at him with large and innocent eyes. “Would I do that?”
“I’m not going to answer that question, Shawn.” Gus opened his door and stepped out into the crisp evening air, leaving the car running. He walked around the car and stood waiting for Shawn to join him. “Just… be careful.”
Shawn gave his best friend an uncharacteristically sincere look. “I will be.” He climbed out of the car and joined Gus on the curb as the two of them looked around. “Looks like Worthington pulled out all the stops for this one,” Shawn whistled low under his breath. “The Doubletree Inn is quite the schwanky party locale.”
The building stretched out in front of them, with the ocean providing a soothing soundtrack and the mountains in the distance offering a majestic backdrop to the old hotel. The parking lot was already filling up and several other people in cocktail attire were making their way into the building. Gus led the way and they fell into step, threading through the grand entrance way and following the signs and people to an open air patio in the back. White lights glittered in swaths around a wall that separated people from the ocean, although the arching windows let in the breeze and seemed to emphasize the view. Strings of lights lit the patio as evening fell, and everywhere waiters in uniforms seemed to be offering shrimp on crackers and mini quiches to the guests. A line of party goers stood near a bar where more waiters hurried to keep cocktail glasses full and a smile on the faces of Santa Barbara’s wealthy as they gathered to do their share of good for the day.
“Not bad, Gus.” Shawn’s expression was impressed and he shot Gus an amused look. “This is totally worth the $200.”
“You’re reimbursing me,” Gus muttered under his breath, accepting a glass of champagne from a waitress with a cute smile. “This is a business expense.”
“Is that any way to categorize a charitable contribution?” Shawn asked, distractedly. He was busy studying the other guests, looking for anyone that he might recognize, and one person in particular that he might not. “Write it off on your taxes.”
“Forget it, Shawn.” Gus sipped his drink with a haughty expression. “You owe me and I won’t forget it.”
Before the detective could answer, a man’s voice caught their attention. “Guster! You made it.”
Gus whirled around and saw his boss bearing down on them. Smiling, he raised his glass. “I wouldn’t have missed it. I like to do my part for good causes.”
Shawn coughed into his hand, a sound remarkably resembling “brown nose” before stepping forward and offering his hand to the enthusiastic looking man in front of him. “Tom,” he smiled warmly, tilting his head in a familiar way. “It’s so good to see you again. It’s been ages too long. I’m sure you’ll be glad to know that Gus’ grandmother made a full recovery.”
Tom brightened. “That’s right! We met when you came to retrieve Gus from the company retreat! It was such a horrible weekend for his poor grandmother. You’re name was…”
“Shawn,” the detective smiled graciously. “Shawn Spencer.”
Tom looked between Shawn and Gus, a knowing expression in his eyes. “I’m sorry, Shawn. I try to make sure I remember the names of the important people to the important employees of Central Coast Pharmaceuticals.”
“Oh, that’s quite alright!” Shawn answered with a grin, ignoring Gus’ murderous glare. “I know Gus doesn’t talk about me that much at work. He’s always tried to keep his work and home lives separate.” He tossed Gus a mock impressed face. “He says it helps him be more focused for both that way.”
“That’s why he’s one of our top sales representatives!” Tom clapped Gus on the shoulder and Gus forced a smile, his eyes promising painful retribution as soon as he managed to get Shawn alone.
“Thank you, sir. I try.”
“You do a great job, Guster!” Tom snagged another drink and turned them towards a group of people gathered at the far end of the patio. “Come on and let me introduce you to our host tonight.”
“Oh, that would be wonderful.” Shawn clapped his hands exaggeratedly and Gus stifled a sigh. He wondered how much damage control he’d end up having to do at work to convince people that he wasn’t gay, didn’t have a gay lover, and, in fact, was single and looking for a woman to share his life with. Shawn was going to owe him big time for this one.
Weaving through the crowd with surprising dexterity, Tom brought them over to meet a man that Shawn recognized as Warren Worthington II from his pictures. “Warren,” Tom caught the older man’s attention. “I wanted to introduce you to one of my best and brightest. This is Burton Guster.” He nudged Gus forward and Gus stuck out his hand.
“It’s a pleasure, sir. Thank you for having us.”
“And this,” Tom clapped Shawn on the shoulder again, making it clear which of the two he favored, “is Gus’ partner, Shawn.”
The company’s president did a good job of keeping a neutral expression, although even Gus noticed the slight smirk as he greeted them both. “It’s my pleasure, gentlemen. I appreciate so very much your contributions tonight. It’s a worthy cause.”
“It really is,” Shawn was nodding exaggeratedly and Gus’ eyes narrowed when he heard the hint of a lisp. Trust Shawn to ham it up. “We saw all about the Alcatraz attacks on the news. All those poor people.”
Worthington II looked every one of his years as he nodded sagely, hints of genuine grief wiping away the veneer of money and power. “It was a tragedy. Too many people died; good people, good scientists… with families that depended on them.” He shook himself. “That’s why having you here is such a blessing.”
“Did they ever catch that Magneto guy?” Shawn asked, feigning ignorance.
“Not yet, I’m afraid.” The scientist turned business man sighed. “And with the Cure turning out to be a failure in some cases, the whole sordid tale reeks of irony.” His gaze was bitter. When Shawn and Gus stilled, he looked at them with a mixture of amusement and grief. “If you haven’t heard about the Cure failing yet, you will. It’s overturning in a large number of the Alpha level mutants we treated. The less powerful mutants still seem to be Cured, but that could turn out to go either way as time goes on.” He sighed and clapped them both on the shoulder, turning them towards the view of the beach. “If Magneto had just waited, instead of attacking, he’d have gotten his way in the long run and we wouldn’t need to be having benefit parties like this one.” Dropping his hands, he stepped away. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go and make a few remarks. But enjoy the evening.”
Tom moved in between Gus and Shawn and cleared his throat. “Sheesh, with a voice of doom like that, this doesn’t really feel much like a party, does it?” He shrugged. “Still, I can see why he’s not all that celebratory.” Leaning forward he whispered conspiratorially. “I hear that Worthington Labs is being sued by some of the mutants that are finding themselves suddenly uncured. One of them apparently sucked the electricity out of southern Chicago the other day because he wasn’t aware of the fact that his powers had come back. Caused a black out and nearly killed himself before the paramedics could do something.” He grinned and snickered a bit. “It seems that the electric paddles weren’t really having much of an effect on Sparky boy.” Ignoring the rather uncomfortable silence that followed his words, Tom caught sight of another friend. “You two will have to excuse me, but have fun. James!” He called out at the retreating back of the man he’d recognized, and was quickly gone.
“If the Cure is failing, what could Mystique possibly want from Worthington Labs?” Gus hissed, moving closer to Shawn now that they were alone.
“I don’t know,” Shawn murmured, watching the crowd with new awareness. “It doesn’t make much sense, really.”
“None of this makes sense,” Gus muttered, crossing his arms and staring into the crowd of people. He was just about to make an idle comment about one of the women in the crowd when he straightened. “Shawn!” he hissed. “Look!”
Shawn’s head snapped around and he followed the direction of Gus’ gaze until he saw a familiar face. “What is he doing here?”
“I don’t know. But I don’t think he knows we’re here.” Gus replied, as he and Shawn both moved to keep Bobby in their sights. “He hasn’t looked at us at all.” Indeed, Bobby was chatting comfortably with a younger guy with short blond hair, who looked somehow vaguely familiar.
“It’s not cold outside,” Shawn muttered to himself, taking in the other man’s long jacket with a frown. “He’s either anemic or he’s making a fashion statement for some reason.” The two friends kept a healthy distance between them and their client, watching with curiosity as the two other men snagged drinks from a passing waiter.
“He’s not old enough to drink that!” Gus said, indignantly. “He should know better.”
“It’s a party, Gus. Don’t be so melodramatic.” Shawn answered, ducking behind a group of businessmen to study Bobby more closely. “It’d be weirder if they didn’t drink.”
Gus looked at Shawn pointedly, as the brunette detective camouflaged himself behind a pillar. “Yeah, Shawn. You’re the perfect person to be lecturing me on what looks weird.”
Before Shawn could respond, the music died down and a voice boomed over the microphone by the front platform. “If I could have your attention, please?” Worthington II smiled at the audience easily. “I wanted to thank you all for coming out tonight to support those victims and the families of the victims of the Battle of Alcatraz. In a country that has become increasingly familiar with the hostilities of terrorists, it is still truly horrifying to realize that these acts can happen to people we know and care about. Worthington Labs remains, now as always, dedicated to improving the lives of people, both in this country and around the world.” He cleared his throat, shooting a nervous glance toward the blonde youth standing next to Bobby. “Sometimes we make mistakes, but we aren’t above admitting them…” A moment of silence that seemed to carry a lot of weight passed as the two men stared at each other. “And we will rebuild - our community, our good name, our hopes for the future. We will not be stopped by the senseless and needless violence of those who would stand in the way of choice and freedom.”
Gus rolled his eyes and leaned towards Shawn. “He doesn’t sound sad about much other than the bad PR if you ask me.”
Shawn was still studying the blonde man standing next to Bobby, but he noticed the stony look on the young mutant’s face. “I think we’re missing something,” he murmured. “Why is the mad scientist so fascinated with that guy? And how does that guy know Bobby?”
Gus shrugged, opening his mouth to say something before he closed it suddenly with a snap and elbowed Shawn in the ribs. “Ouch!” Shawn rubbed his side, but turned towards the stage again. Seeing the object of their search move towards the microphone, Shawn straightened up and fell silent.
Mr. Worthington finished his spiel and looked towards Weymouth with a smile. “And without further ado, I’d like to introduce the Vice-President of Development, Martin Weymouth.” The two men shook hands and Shawn frowned, quickly studying the movements and matching them up in his head. To their left, a photographer was busy snapping candids for the company newsletter and Shawn suddenly turned towards him.
“Can I see your camera?”
“What?” The photographer looked at him with a bewildered expression. “Why?”
“I’m a big fan of photography,” Shawn smiled his most charming smile and the photographer hesitantly handed over the camera.
From the podium, Weymouth began to speak, his voice somber, but engaging. “Welcome, friends. Welcome to the beginning of a new era…”
Gus moved to look down at the digital display as Shawn flipped back through the last several pictures. Finally he reached one that gave him pause. “Look at the eyes,” he ordered softly.
Staring up at them from the digital screen were two yellow glowing eyes, reflecting from an otherwise unextraordinary face. “It’s her,” Gus whispered astonished. “It really is her. What do we do know?”
“We raise the hue and cry,” Shawn answered as if it were the most obvious statement in the world.
“We what?”
“We go tell our client that we found her,” Shawn explained, handing the camera back to the photographer with a hurried word of thanks.
“Oh, right.” They both took hurried steps in the direction of Bobby when shouts brought them to an abrupt stop and made everyone in the audience crane their heads towards the main doors. “What’s going on?”
“Remember how I told you that Juliet said that there were protestors causing problems for Worthington Labs?” Shawn asked, grimly.
“Yeah?” Gus stumbled backwards as the guests surged suddenly.
“I think,” Shawn answered loudly over the increasing cacophony, “they’ve just arrived.”
As one, they turned to look at the place where Weymouth/Mystique had been moments before, but he was no where to be seen. “Uh oh,” Gus muttered. “That doesn’t bode well.”
“No,” Shawn agreed, clutching Gus’ arm to keep them together as protesters began swarming through the doors. “It doesn’t.”
Before Gus could answer, an explosion ripped through the parking lot. From the corner of his eye, Gus could see twin pillars of fire shooting straight into the night sky. “Neither does that,” he observed over the screams, just before the crowd surged again and he and Shawn were pulled apart by the now stampeding guests.
Fandom: Psych! and X-men crossover
Prompt: 66 - hue and cry at
tamingthemuseWarnings: Spoilers for the X-men movies and some general spoilers for Psych!
Rating: Teen - some language, potential violence
Summary: Shawn claims to be a psychic. Some people believe him.
Disclaimer: None of the lovelies are mine. But I have enjoyed playing with them!
A/N: Many thanks to
lostacanthus for the beta! As always, feedback is welcome and appreciated.***************
***************************
Chapter 3
***************************
“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this.” Gus griped, easing his Toyota Yaris into the flow of traffic.
“I can’t believe that you didn’t bring me carnations.” Shawn sulked in response, tugging at his tie and straightening his jacket carefully. “I told you that’s what I wanted.”
“This isn’t a date, Shawn. This is an investigation.”
“Yeah, but we’re going undercover.”
Gus looked at him sharply. “There will be no covers, Shawn. Under or otherwise.”
Shawn grinned at him, turning slightly to study Gus’ expression. “Am I not your type?”
Gus snorted and pointedly refused to answer, leaving Shawn to return his attention to his tie. “I hate dressing up like this.”
“This was your idea.”
“This is research, Gus. The plan is simple. We go to this benefit, you pay them the $200 for our tickets, that gets us into the room where we can help the Alcatraz victims and their families… and we get close enough to Weymouth for me to make sure it really is Mystique.”
Gus’ jaw dropped. “That’s the plan? That’s not a plan! That’s a disaster waiting to happen, Shawn. And I am not paying the $200. You are! This was your idea.”
“Yeah,” Shawn pulled down the sun visor and flipped open the mirror and went back to trying to straighten his tie. “But I don’t have any money.”
“What about the money that Bobby gave you in advance?”
“I spent it.” Shawn was tugging at his tie with increasing violence.
“On what?” Gus demanded, horrified.
“This tux!” Shawn gave him an exasperated look. “You don’t think I own a tux.”
“I own one!”
“You’re the sort of person who owns suits and tuxes,” Shawn went back to his tie with a shrug. “The world takes all kinds of people, Gus.”
Gus turned the car sharply, pulling over onto the side of the road and parked. He turned to Shawn and grabbed the ends of the tie, jerking Shawn to face him. With quick and practiced movements, he tied a knot and tucked the edges of the tie into Shawn’s jacket. “I own tuxes and suits because I have a real job, Shawn. One that doesn’t involve sneaking into charity benefits and trying to uncover mutant terrorists in cognito as vice-presidents of mega million dollar pharmaceutical companies.”
Shawn looked in the mirror appraisingly. “See? I knew you were a good choice for a date.”
“You’re not my date.” Gus pulled back into traffic. “And you need to concentrate. This isn’t going to be as easy as you think it is.”
“Sure it will, Gus.” Shawn grinned. “It’ll be as easy as having you fix this tie.”
Gus sighed and shook his head. “Maybe you should have told Bobby or Logan about this.”
“Nope, I’m not sure; it might still just be a coincidence. I don’t want them to get the wrong idea.” Shawn pulled the magazine out of the bag at his feet and flipped to the dog-eared page to stare at it again.
“What idea is that, Shawn? That you’re not really a psychic?” Gus pulled into the parking lot of the country club and drove the car towards the bored looking valet in a red shirt. “That would be the right idea.” He tossed Shawn another annoyed look and glared at him. “Just remember… these are my coworkers, my peers. Don’t do anything to embarrass me.”
“Gus,” Shawn affected a hurt tone and stared at him with large and innocent eyes. “Would I do that?”
“I’m not going to answer that question, Shawn.” Gus opened his door and stepped out into the crisp evening air, leaving the car running. He walked around the car and stood waiting for Shawn to join him. “Just… be careful.”
Shawn gave his best friend an uncharacteristically sincere look. “I will be.” He climbed out of the car and joined Gus on the curb as the two of them looked around. “Looks like Worthington pulled out all the stops for this one,” Shawn whistled low under his breath. “The Doubletree Inn is quite the schwanky party locale.”
The building stretched out in front of them, with the ocean providing a soothing soundtrack and the mountains in the distance offering a majestic backdrop to the old hotel. The parking lot was already filling up and several other people in cocktail attire were making their way into the building. Gus led the way and they fell into step, threading through the grand entrance way and following the signs and people to an open air patio in the back. White lights glittered in swaths around a wall that separated people from the ocean, although the arching windows let in the breeze and seemed to emphasize the view. Strings of lights lit the patio as evening fell, and everywhere waiters in uniforms seemed to be offering shrimp on crackers and mini quiches to the guests. A line of party goers stood near a bar where more waiters hurried to keep cocktail glasses full and a smile on the faces of Santa Barbara’s wealthy as they gathered to do their share of good for the day.
“Not bad, Gus.” Shawn’s expression was impressed and he shot Gus an amused look. “This is totally worth the $200.”
“You’re reimbursing me,” Gus muttered under his breath, accepting a glass of champagne from a waitress with a cute smile. “This is a business expense.”
“Is that any way to categorize a charitable contribution?” Shawn asked, distractedly. He was busy studying the other guests, looking for anyone that he might recognize, and one person in particular that he might not. “Write it off on your taxes.”
“Forget it, Shawn.” Gus sipped his drink with a haughty expression. “You owe me and I won’t forget it.”
Before the detective could answer, a man’s voice caught their attention. “Guster! You made it.”
Gus whirled around and saw his boss bearing down on them. Smiling, he raised his glass. “I wouldn’t have missed it. I like to do my part for good causes.”
Shawn coughed into his hand, a sound remarkably resembling “brown nose” before stepping forward and offering his hand to the enthusiastic looking man in front of him. “Tom,” he smiled warmly, tilting his head in a familiar way. “It’s so good to see you again. It’s been ages too long. I’m sure you’ll be glad to know that Gus’ grandmother made a full recovery.”
Tom brightened. “That’s right! We met when you came to retrieve Gus from the company retreat! It was such a horrible weekend for his poor grandmother. You’re name was…”
“Shawn,” the detective smiled graciously. “Shawn Spencer.”
Tom looked between Shawn and Gus, a knowing expression in his eyes. “I’m sorry, Shawn. I try to make sure I remember the names of the important people to the important employees of Central Coast Pharmaceuticals.”
“Oh, that’s quite alright!” Shawn answered with a grin, ignoring Gus’ murderous glare. “I know Gus doesn’t talk about me that much at work. He’s always tried to keep his work and home lives separate.” He tossed Gus a mock impressed face. “He says it helps him be more focused for both that way.”
“That’s why he’s one of our top sales representatives!” Tom clapped Gus on the shoulder and Gus forced a smile, his eyes promising painful retribution as soon as he managed to get Shawn alone.
“Thank you, sir. I try.”
“You do a great job, Guster!” Tom snagged another drink and turned them towards a group of people gathered at the far end of the patio. “Come on and let me introduce you to our host tonight.”
“Oh, that would be wonderful.” Shawn clapped his hands exaggeratedly and Gus stifled a sigh. He wondered how much damage control he’d end up having to do at work to convince people that he wasn’t gay, didn’t have a gay lover, and, in fact, was single and looking for a woman to share his life with. Shawn was going to owe him big time for this one.
Weaving through the crowd with surprising dexterity, Tom brought them over to meet a man that Shawn recognized as Warren Worthington II from his pictures. “Warren,” Tom caught the older man’s attention. “I wanted to introduce you to one of my best and brightest. This is Burton Guster.” He nudged Gus forward and Gus stuck out his hand.
“It’s a pleasure, sir. Thank you for having us.”
“And this,” Tom clapped Shawn on the shoulder again, making it clear which of the two he favored, “is Gus’ partner, Shawn.”
The company’s president did a good job of keeping a neutral expression, although even Gus noticed the slight smirk as he greeted them both. “It’s my pleasure, gentlemen. I appreciate so very much your contributions tonight. It’s a worthy cause.”
“It really is,” Shawn was nodding exaggeratedly and Gus’ eyes narrowed when he heard the hint of a lisp. Trust Shawn to ham it up. “We saw all about the Alcatraz attacks on the news. All those poor people.”
Worthington II looked every one of his years as he nodded sagely, hints of genuine grief wiping away the veneer of money and power. “It was a tragedy. Too many people died; good people, good scientists… with families that depended on them.” He shook himself. “That’s why having you here is such a blessing.”
“Did they ever catch that Magneto guy?” Shawn asked, feigning ignorance.
“Not yet, I’m afraid.” The scientist turned business man sighed. “And with the Cure turning out to be a failure in some cases, the whole sordid tale reeks of irony.” His gaze was bitter. When Shawn and Gus stilled, he looked at them with a mixture of amusement and grief. “If you haven’t heard about the Cure failing yet, you will. It’s overturning in a large number of the Alpha level mutants we treated. The less powerful mutants still seem to be Cured, but that could turn out to go either way as time goes on.” He sighed and clapped them both on the shoulder, turning them towards the view of the beach. “If Magneto had just waited, instead of attacking, he’d have gotten his way in the long run and we wouldn’t need to be having benefit parties like this one.” Dropping his hands, he stepped away. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go and make a few remarks. But enjoy the evening.”
Tom moved in between Gus and Shawn and cleared his throat. “Sheesh, with a voice of doom like that, this doesn’t really feel much like a party, does it?” He shrugged. “Still, I can see why he’s not all that celebratory.” Leaning forward he whispered conspiratorially. “I hear that Worthington Labs is being sued by some of the mutants that are finding themselves suddenly uncured. One of them apparently sucked the electricity out of southern Chicago the other day because he wasn’t aware of the fact that his powers had come back. Caused a black out and nearly killed himself before the paramedics could do something.” He grinned and snickered a bit. “It seems that the electric paddles weren’t really having much of an effect on Sparky boy.” Ignoring the rather uncomfortable silence that followed his words, Tom caught sight of another friend. “You two will have to excuse me, but have fun. James!” He called out at the retreating back of the man he’d recognized, and was quickly gone.
“If the Cure is failing, what could Mystique possibly want from Worthington Labs?” Gus hissed, moving closer to Shawn now that they were alone.
“I don’t know,” Shawn murmured, watching the crowd with new awareness. “It doesn’t make much sense, really.”
“None of this makes sense,” Gus muttered, crossing his arms and staring into the crowd of people. He was just about to make an idle comment about one of the women in the crowd when he straightened. “Shawn!” he hissed. “Look!”
Shawn’s head snapped around and he followed the direction of Gus’ gaze until he saw a familiar face. “What is he doing here?”
“I don’t know. But I don’t think he knows we’re here.” Gus replied, as he and Shawn both moved to keep Bobby in their sights. “He hasn’t looked at us at all.” Indeed, Bobby was chatting comfortably with a younger guy with short blond hair, who looked somehow vaguely familiar.
“It’s not cold outside,” Shawn muttered to himself, taking in the other man’s long jacket with a frown. “He’s either anemic or he’s making a fashion statement for some reason.” The two friends kept a healthy distance between them and their client, watching with curiosity as the two other men snagged drinks from a passing waiter.
“He’s not old enough to drink that!” Gus said, indignantly. “He should know better.”
“It’s a party, Gus. Don’t be so melodramatic.” Shawn answered, ducking behind a group of businessmen to study Bobby more closely. “It’d be weirder if they didn’t drink.”
Gus looked at Shawn pointedly, as the brunette detective camouflaged himself behind a pillar. “Yeah, Shawn. You’re the perfect person to be lecturing me on what looks weird.”
Before Shawn could respond, the music died down and a voice boomed over the microphone by the front platform. “If I could have your attention, please?” Worthington II smiled at the audience easily. “I wanted to thank you all for coming out tonight to support those victims and the families of the victims of the Battle of Alcatraz. In a country that has become increasingly familiar with the hostilities of terrorists, it is still truly horrifying to realize that these acts can happen to people we know and care about. Worthington Labs remains, now as always, dedicated to improving the lives of people, both in this country and around the world.” He cleared his throat, shooting a nervous glance toward the blonde youth standing next to Bobby. “Sometimes we make mistakes, but we aren’t above admitting them…” A moment of silence that seemed to carry a lot of weight passed as the two men stared at each other. “And we will rebuild - our community, our good name, our hopes for the future. We will not be stopped by the senseless and needless violence of those who would stand in the way of choice and freedom.”
Gus rolled his eyes and leaned towards Shawn. “He doesn’t sound sad about much other than the bad PR if you ask me.”
Shawn was still studying the blonde man standing next to Bobby, but he noticed the stony look on the young mutant’s face. “I think we’re missing something,” he murmured. “Why is the mad scientist so fascinated with that guy? And how does that guy know Bobby?”
Gus shrugged, opening his mouth to say something before he closed it suddenly with a snap and elbowed Shawn in the ribs. “Ouch!” Shawn rubbed his side, but turned towards the stage again. Seeing the object of their search move towards the microphone, Shawn straightened up and fell silent.
Mr. Worthington finished his spiel and looked towards Weymouth with a smile. “And without further ado, I’d like to introduce the Vice-President of Development, Martin Weymouth.” The two men shook hands and Shawn frowned, quickly studying the movements and matching them up in his head. To their left, a photographer was busy snapping candids for the company newsletter and Shawn suddenly turned towards him.
“Can I see your camera?”
“What?” The photographer looked at him with a bewildered expression. “Why?”
“I’m a big fan of photography,” Shawn smiled his most charming smile and the photographer hesitantly handed over the camera.
From the podium, Weymouth began to speak, his voice somber, but engaging. “Welcome, friends. Welcome to the beginning of a new era…”
Gus moved to look down at the digital display as Shawn flipped back through the last several pictures. Finally he reached one that gave him pause. “Look at the eyes,” he ordered softly.
Staring up at them from the digital screen were two yellow glowing eyes, reflecting from an otherwise unextraordinary face. “It’s her,” Gus whispered astonished. “It really is her. What do we do know?”
“We raise the hue and cry,” Shawn answered as if it were the most obvious statement in the world.
“We what?”
“We go tell our client that we found her,” Shawn explained, handing the camera back to the photographer with a hurried word of thanks.
“Oh, right.” They both took hurried steps in the direction of Bobby when shouts brought them to an abrupt stop and made everyone in the audience crane their heads towards the main doors. “What’s going on?”
“Remember how I told you that Juliet said that there were protestors causing problems for Worthington Labs?” Shawn asked, grimly.
“Yeah?” Gus stumbled backwards as the guests surged suddenly.
“I think,” Shawn answered loudly over the increasing cacophony, “they’ve just arrived.”
As one, they turned to look at the place where Weymouth/Mystique had been moments before, but he was no where to be seen. “Uh oh,” Gus muttered. “That doesn’t bode well.”
“No,” Shawn agreed, clutching Gus’ arm to keep them together as protesters began swarming through the doors. “It doesn’t.”
Before Gus could answer, an explosion ripped through the parking lot. From the corner of his eye, Gus could see twin pillars of fire shooting straight into the night sky. “Neither does that,” he observed over the screams, just before the crowd surged again and he and Shawn were pulled apart by the now stampeding guests.
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Date: 2007-10-29 01:04 pm (UTC)And I love your icon!