Entry tags:
FIC: It's Called E.S.P. (Ch. 4/?) (Psych!/X-Men)
Title: It's Called E.S.P.
Fandom: Psych! and X-men crossover
Prompt: 76 - Mt. Everest at
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
lostacanthus for the beta! Sorry this has been un-updated for so long! Between Nanowrimo and Yuletide, I was swamped. But, I'm back and will finish this quickly now!
As always, feedback is welcome and appreciated.
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Previous Chapters: Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three
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Chapter 4
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“Gus!” Shawn yelled as his friend was swept away by the crowd. He tried to push through the horde of people, but there were too many of them. Without an option, he turned and ran towards the back wall, where people were jumping down to the beach. A second explosion thundered behind him and Shawn threw himself to the side, turning to look back.
It was like a scene from an action movie. The pillars of fire were twisting in the air now, turning like giant snakes to stare at prey as the people fled screaming into the parking lot. A bellow to his right drew his attention back towards the people who weren’t running. Worthington was being hustled down the steps from the stage by the blonde youth that had been talking to Bobby earlier, despite the fact that he clearly did not want to go.
Bobby was no where to be seen and acting on impulse, Shawn ducked under one of the serving tables, crawling underneath it until he was out of the line of escape. Emerging with a hasty leap to his feet, Shawn ran after Worthington into the hotel. Throwing open the double doors leading inside to the main ballroom with a bang, Shawn saw a group of angry men and women entering the ballroom from the left turn towards him with a shout. For a second, he stood there blinking at them, then his survival instinct kicked in and he bolted to the right and up the stairs. “Stop right there!”
“It's okay!" Shawn shouted back even as he heard them thundering after him. "I'll get them myself!" He had no idea who they were after, but he figured anything that slowed them down would be a good thing. At the top of the stairs, he caught a glimpse of a black trench coat and he ran after it down a hallway ending in a T-juncture. Shawn followed the glimpse of coat to the right, down a hall that obviously led to guest rooms. Numbered doors flashed by him to his left and right as he ran and he prayed that the emergency exit would be clearly marked.
A crashing sound behind him encouraged him to run faster even as he realized that his pursuers weren’t as coordinated as he was. Seeing the exit sign ahead, Shawn slammed into it with his full weight and was promptly bounced backward. Stumbling, he barely managed to keep his feet, but he gamely threw himself at the door again once he balanced. It had obviously been wedged shut and after he rebounded a second time, he continued down the hallway towards another T-junction. Guessing, he turned left this time.
He didn’t pause to look around too closely. The shouting was getting closer and he felt his stomach sink when he realized that there was crashing noises coming from the direction of the second emergency exit down the hall. Spying a door without a room number on it, Shawn offered a quick mental prayer to the gods of luck and turned the handle. It opened and he slipped inside a supply closet and braced his back against the door.
“Where’d he go?” The man who shouted for him to stop was shouting again. The sinking feeling in Shawn’s stomach worsened as he heard an answering shout down the hall from the exit he’d been trying to reach.
“He didn’t come here.”
“You think he’s a mutant?” The first man, whom Shawn had mentally dubbed asshole A, sounded suspicious.
“Nah, he wasn’t on the list of people we were warned about.” Asshole B answered. “He’s got to be hiding around here somewhere.”
Desperately, Shawn looked around, even as his fingers found and clicked the lock on the door. There was a utility light burning, but even its dull glow clearly revealed that there was no other exit. He was trapped. “Think, Shawn, think.” Shawn ordered himself, swallowing the panic. Looking up, he saw that the ceiling was paneled. Not hesitating even for a second, Shawn climbed up the shelves until he could push the panel open. “It works for Bond,” he reassured himself as his head popped through into a dusty crawl space. Climbing all the way into the cramped area, he almost slipped when he heard someone bang on the door down in the supply closet.
“HERE!” Asshole A was shouting again and Shawn guessed that his escape route had been discovered. It was the only room in the hallway that didn’t have a guest number on it after all. Even the unobservant would eventually have thought to check the closet. Angling his body as best he could, Shawn kicked down, rocking the shelves that he’d just climbed. Kicking again, he was relieved when they began tumbling away from the wall. They landed against the door with a loud bang, wedging it shut, but clearly announcing his location.
Wincing, Shawn didn’t wait around to hear what the rabble thought of having his whereabouts confirmed. Instead, he began crawling on his stomach through the narrow space. It obviously followed the hallway and Shawn mentally calculated how far it was until he’d be near the emergency exit.
Doing his best Rambo impression, Shawn crawled until he was pretty sure he was near the exit. Pausing long enough to press his ear against the panel under him, he held his breath. He could still hear shouting and banging as Assholes A and B tried to get into the supply closet, but it was quieter right under him. Debating for a second whether he’d be better off hiding or making a break for it, he remained still. Unfortunately, the ceiling panel under him wasn’t used to holding extra weight and it creaked ominously.
“Oh, shit...” Shawn closed his eyes even as the entire panel gave way. He fell the ten feet to the ground and lay there momentarily stunned. Dust billowed down the hallway and the shouts of surprise quickly told him that he’d been spotted. Rolling to his knees, Shawn stared at the people staring at him from a disturbingly close distance with a sense of impending doom.
He was still gasping for breath when he felt strong arms grab him from behind and haul him to his feet. “What the hell are you doing here?” Bobby jerked him through the emergency door and into the stairway. Spinning him out of the way, the young mutant put both hands on the door and concentrated.
Even as confused as he was, Shawn still had a moment’s appreciation for the sheer coolness - no pun intended - of the ice wall that grew out of Bobby’s hands and kept the door from opening even as the men in the hallway banged on it with increasing violence. Before Shawn had a chance to answer, Bobby was pushing him up the stairs. “Go! If you don’t want to get lynched, go!”
That seemed like good advice and Shawn went, climbing up the stairs as quickly as he could. Shouting below them told him that the group of troublemakers currently frozen in on the second floor wasn’t the only group to have found the stairs. “Where’s Weymouth?” Shawn demanded, even as he crested the fifth floor flight of stairs.
“Who?”
“Weymouth!” Shawn repeated. “He’s her.”
Bobby’s hand in his back propelled him onward. “Did you get hit in the head back there?”
“He’s her! He’s not a him! He’s not Weymouth! He’s Mystique!” Shawn kept climbing the stairs even as he tossed a frustrated look at Bobby.
“Are you sure?” Bobby didn’t pause in their flight to the roof, but his expression was astonished and Shawn nodded even as he gasped for enough breath to see him to the top of the eight story motel. Ramming into the exit to the roof, he went nowhere. He banged on it again, horrified that it was locked. “Move!” Bobby ordered and Shawn ducked to the side as Bobby held out a single hand.
A cloud of frost flowed from Bobby’s fingertips and crusted over the lock mechanism. Then, with a twist of his wrist, Bobby froze his hand and forearm. Making a fist, he slammed his hand into the lock and it shattered. Shawn twisted his head away from the fragmenting lock, half astonished and half afraid that Bobby had just shattered his arm. He didn’t have time to ask before Bobby grabbed him by the shirt and pushed him backwards through the door and onto the roof. Automatically, the mutant slapped his hand to the door and repeated his trick from the second floor – fitting an ice block over it and preventing it from opening.
“Are you sure you’re sure?” Bobby demanded.
“Of course I’m sure I’m sure!” Shawn shouted back. “I’m here aren’t I? Why else would I be here?”
The younger man shrugged, his eyes suspicious. “You tell me. Or rather… you didn’t tell me.”
“Do you really think now is the time to have this discussion?” Shawn asked, gesturing wildly past the edge of the roof to where the pillars of fire were still burning. “ ‘Cause it seems to me that we might have a bigger problem!”
Nodding, Bobby reluctantly stepped back, lifting his arm to his mouth and speaking clearly into his watch. “Wolverine, we’ve got problems.”
“Ya think?” The growl was clear enough that Shawn glanced around the roof looking for the grumpy mutant. Seeing nothing other than the door that he and Bobby had just emerged from, Shawn felt the first moment of real fear that he was going to end up lynched by a mob that thought he was mutant.
“You’re old friend is back, causing problems like always. Little shit.” Logan’s voice was echoing from Bobby’s watch and Shawn stared at it curiously, noting the strange X-symbol on it.
Bobby cursed, his frown deepening. “Pyro. What’s he doing here?”
Shawn made a face and shook his head. “With a name like Pyro… and this is just a guess… but I think he’s probably the one making those!” Shawn stalked to the edge of the roof and gestured at the pillars of fire. “I mean… Pyro… fire… I’m guessing he’s aptly named.” Shawn waved his arms for emphasis.
“Iceman?” Bobby winced at Logan’s growl. “Is that the headcase up there with you?”
“Hey!” Shawn glared at Bobby’s watch. “I resent that.”
“What’s he doing here?”
“He’s found Mystique. He thinks Weymouth, Worthington’s VP, is really Mystique.”
“Yeah. Great. Worry about that when you don’t end up dead.”
“You’re a lot of help, Logan. You know that?” Bobby muttered, crossing the roof in rapid footsteps to stand next to Shawn. Looking down, the two of them saw a scene that resembled Armageddon. Several cars in the parking lot were on fire and there were people lying on the ground, dead or injured, they couldn’t tell.
“Who did this?” Shawn asked, horrified.
“I don’t know.” Bobby’s voice was grim. A loud bang from the door to the roof made them both spin around.
“Gun fire!” Shawn yelped, ducking down. Bobby dropped to the ground next to him. “How do we get down?”
Bobby ignored him and spoke into his watch again. “Angel? We could use a lift here.”
“Negative, Iceman. A bit occupied.”
Bobby cursed again as a second shot sent ice chips flying away from the door. Shawn stayed crouched, rocking slightly as he glared at Bobby. “I can’t die here. I’ve got things to do! I’ve never been married! I’ve never climbed Mt. Everest! I’ve never danced naked in the moonlight!”
For a second, Bobby’s expression lost it’s tense look and he grinned at Shawn. “If I get you out of here, just promise I won’t be there for that last one.”
“Get me down how?” Shawn demaned.
“Like this.” Bobby stood up, his hand fisted in Shawn’s jacket as he pulled him upright. Stepping to the edge of the roof, Bobby stepped off into space, pulling Shawn with him. Too surprised to resist, Shawn screamed, expecting to plummet to his death, or at least to a pair of broken legs. Instead, he felt something spring up under his feet.
Bobby’s hand jerked him forward and Shawn tried to keep his balance as he slid on the surface of… whatever it was that was holding the two of them up. Moving with increasing speed, the two men slid down the… thing… until the ground rose up to meet them with a crash. Bobby stepped onto the ground and ran a few steps, before crouching down. Shawn’s landing was a lot less graceful. He tumbled head over heels for several feet before sprawling on the pavement of the parking lot face down.
“Freeze!”
“It’s too late for that,” Shawn muttered, climbing to his knees and looking down the barrel of a the handgun held by a very surprised Lassiter.
“Spencer!” Lassiter quickly aimed at the ground. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“That’s a long story.” Shawn reached up and felt his face, convinced that he’d left most of his skin on the ground. “What the hell was that?”
“This guy did it.” A familiar voice made Shawn turn and he gaped for a second at Buzz McNab, who was holding a gun on Bobby. “He’s a mutant.”
“And a friend!” Shawn climbed to his feet quickly and moved between the startled cop and the very tense mutant. “He saved me!”
“From what?” Lassiter looked around the parking lot, his face grim. “Godzilla?”
“Mutants.” Bobby’s voice was tense. “One in particular did this – Pyro.” Bobby watched, uncertain whether or not to put his hands down as Shawn reached out and gently pushed Buzz’s arms to the side.
“Buzz, come on man. We go way back. I gave you your cat. Don’t shoot my friend.”
“What?” Buzz blinked and dropped his arm suddenly. “Sorry, Shawn. I just… this place looks awful.”
“Yeah, well…” Shawn made a face again. “Angry mobs have that effect. A mutant may have done this, but it was anti-mutant fanatics that chased me through the hotel.”
Lassiter shot Shawn a strange look, but he nodded. “Stay here.” He picked up his radio. “O’Hara, what’s your 20?”
“He should get a watch like yours,” Shawn spoke softly, moving closer to Bobby. The younger man shushed him as Juliet’s voice echoed back over the radio.
“Inside the main lobby. It appears that most of the crowd is gone. But I’ve got Gus here with me.” Shawn breathed a sigh of relief even as Juliet continued. “He’s with some guy with wings and a guy with knives in his hands.”
“Those are my friends,” Bobby stepped forward and Lassiter raised a hand to warn him off.
“Yeah, well…” Lassiter shook his head. “Your friends and you,” he turned to Shawn, “and you and Gus, unless you have a very good explanation, are all under arrest.”
Fandom: Psych! and X-men crossover
Prompt: 76 - Mt. Everest at
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
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)
As always, feedback is welcome and appreciated.
***************
Previous Chapters: Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three
***************
***************************
Chapter 4
***************************
“Gus!” Shawn yelled as his friend was swept away by the crowd. He tried to push through the horde of people, but there were too many of them. Without an option, he turned and ran towards the back wall, where people were jumping down to the beach. A second explosion thundered behind him and Shawn threw himself to the side, turning to look back.
It was like a scene from an action movie. The pillars of fire were twisting in the air now, turning like giant snakes to stare at prey as the people fled screaming into the parking lot. A bellow to his right drew his attention back towards the people who weren’t running. Worthington was being hustled down the steps from the stage by the blonde youth that had been talking to Bobby earlier, despite the fact that he clearly did not want to go.
Bobby was no where to be seen and acting on impulse, Shawn ducked under one of the serving tables, crawling underneath it until he was out of the line of escape. Emerging with a hasty leap to his feet, Shawn ran after Worthington into the hotel. Throwing open the double doors leading inside to the main ballroom with a bang, Shawn saw a group of angry men and women entering the ballroom from the left turn towards him with a shout. For a second, he stood there blinking at them, then his survival instinct kicked in and he bolted to the right and up the stairs. “Stop right there!”
“It's okay!" Shawn shouted back even as he heard them thundering after him. "I'll get them myself!" He had no idea who they were after, but he figured anything that slowed them down would be a good thing. At the top of the stairs, he caught a glimpse of a black trench coat and he ran after it down a hallway ending in a T-juncture. Shawn followed the glimpse of coat to the right, down a hall that obviously led to guest rooms. Numbered doors flashed by him to his left and right as he ran and he prayed that the emergency exit would be clearly marked.
A crashing sound behind him encouraged him to run faster even as he realized that his pursuers weren’t as coordinated as he was. Seeing the exit sign ahead, Shawn slammed into it with his full weight and was promptly bounced backward. Stumbling, he barely managed to keep his feet, but he gamely threw himself at the door again once he balanced. It had obviously been wedged shut and after he rebounded a second time, he continued down the hallway towards another T-junction. Guessing, he turned left this time.
He didn’t pause to look around too closely. The shouting was getting closer and he felt his stomach sink when he realized that there was crashing noises coming from the direction of the second emergency exit down the hall. Spying a door without a room number on it, Shawn offered a quick mental prayer to the gods of luck and turned the handle. It opened and he slipped inside a supply closet and braced his back against the door.
“Where’d he go?” The man who shouted for him to stop was shouting again. The sinking feeling in Shawn’s stomach worsened as he heard an answering shout down the hall from the exit he’d been trying to reach.
“He didn’t come here.”
“You think he’s a mutant?” The first man, whom Shawn had mentally dubbed asshole A, sounded suspicious.
“Nah, he wasn’t on the list of people we were warned about.” Asshole B answered. “He’s got to be hiding around here somewhere.”
Desperately, Shawn looked around, even as his fingers found and clicked the lock on the door. There was a utility light burning, but even its dull glow clearly revealed that there was no other exit. He was trapped. “Think, Shawn, think.” Shawn ordered himself, swallowing the panic. Looking up, he saw that the ceiling was paneled. Not hesitating even for a second, Shawn climbed up the shelves until he could push the panel open. “It works for Bond,” he reassured himself as his head popped through into a dusty crawl space. Climbing all the way into the cramped area, he almost slipped when he heard someone bang on the door down in the supply closet.
“HERE!” Asshole A was shouting again and Shawn guessed that his escape route had been discovered. It was the only room in the hallway that didn’t have a guest number on it after all. Even the unobservant would eventually have thought to check the closet. Angling his body as best he could, Shawn kicked down, rocking the shelves that he’d just climbed. Kicking again, he was relieved when they began tumbling away from the wall. They landed against the door with a loud bang, wedging it shut, but clearly announcing his location.
Wincing, Shawn didn’t wait around to hear what the rabble thought of having his whereabouts confirmed. Instead, he began crawling on his stomach through the narrow space. It obviously followed the hallway and Shawn mentally calculated how far it was until he’d be near the emergency exit.
Doing his best Rambo impression, Shawn crawled until he was pretty sure he was near the exit. Pausing long enough to press his ear against the panel under him, he held his breath. He could still hear shouting and banging as Assholes A and B tried to get into the supply closet, but it was quieter right under him. Debating for a second whether he’d be better off hiding or making a break for it, he remained still. Unfortunately, the ceiling panel under him wasn’t used to holding extra weight and it creaked ominously.
“Oh, shit...” Shawn closed his eyes even as the entire panel gave way. He fell the ten feet to the ground and lay there momentarily stunned. Dust billowed down the hallway and the shouts of surprise quickly told him that he’d been spotted. Rolling to his knees, Shawn stared at the people staring at him from a disturbingly close distance with a sense of impending doom.
He was still gasping for breath when he felt strong arms grab him from behind and haul him to his feet. “What the hell are you doing here?” Bobby jerked him through the emergency door and into the stairway. Spinning him out of the way, the young mutant put both hands on the door and concentrated.
Even as confused as he was, Shawn still had a moment’s appreciation for the sheer coolness - no pun intended - of the ice wall that grew out of Bobby’s hands and kept the door from opening even as the men in the hallway banged on it with increasing violence. Before Shawn had a chance to answer, Bobby was pushing him up the stairs. “Go! If you don’t want to get lynched, go!”
That seemed like good advice and Shawn went, climbing up the stairs as quickly as he could. Shouting below them told him that the group of troublemakers currently frozen in on the second floor wasn’t the only group to have found the stairs. “Where’s Weymouth?” Shawn demanded, even as he crested the fifth floor flight of stairs.
“Who?”
“Weymouth!” Shawn repeated. “He’s her.”
Bobby’s hand in his back propelled him onward. “Did you get hit in the head back there?”
“He’s her! He’s not a him! He’s not Weymouth! He’s Mystique!” Shawn kept climbing the stairs even as he tossed a frustrated look at Bobby.
“Are you sure?” Bobby didn’t pause in their flight to the roof, but his expression was astonished and Shawn nodded even as he gasped for enough breath to see him to the top of the eight story motel. Ramming into the exit to the roof, he went nowhere. He banged on it again, horrified that it was locked. “Move!” Bobby ordered and Shawn ducked to the side as Bobby held out a single hand.
A cloud of frost flowed from Bobby’s fingertips and crusted over the lock mechanism. Then, with a twist of his wrist, Bobby froze his hand and forearm. Making a fist, he slammed his hand into the lock and it shattered. Shawn twisted his head away from the fragmenting lock, half astonished and half afraid that Bobby had just shattered his arm. He didn’t have time to ask before Bobby grabbed him by the shirt and pushed him backwards through the door and onto the roof. Automatically, the mutant slapped his hand to the door and repeated his trick from the second floor – fitting an ice block over it and preventing it from opening.
“Are you sure you’re sure?” Bobby demanded.
“Of course I’m sure I’m sure!” Shawn shouted back. “I’m here aren’t I? Why else would I be here?”
The younger man shrugged, his eyes suspicious. “You tell me. Or rather… you didn’t tell me.”
“Do you really think now is the time to have this discussion?” Shawn asked, gesturing wildly past the edge of the roof to where the pillars of fire were still burning. “ ‘Cause it seems to me that we might have a bigger problem!”
Nodding, Bobby reluctantly stepped back, lifting his arm to his mouth and speaking clearly into his watch. “Wolverine, we’ve got problems.”
“Ya think?” The growl was clear enough that Shawn glanced around the roof looking for the grumpy mutant. Seeing nothing other than the door that he and Bobby had just emerged from, Shawn felt the first moment of real fear that he was going to end up lynched by a mob that thought he was mutant.
“You’re old friend is back, causing problems like always. Little shit.” Logan’s voice was echoing from Bobby’s watch and Shawn stared at it curiously, noting the strange X-symbol on it.
Bobby cursed, his frown deepening. “Pyro. What’s he doing here?”
Shawn made a face and shook his head. “With a name like Pyro… and this is just a guess… but I think he’s probably the one making those!” Shawn stalked to the edge of the roof and gestured at the pillars of fire. “I mean… Pyro… fire… I’m guessing he’s aptly named.” Shawn waved his arms for emphasis.
“Iceman?” Bobby winced at Logan’s growl. “Is that the headcase up there with you?”
“Hey!” Shawn glared at Bobby’s watch. “I resent that.”
“What’s he doing here?”
“He’s found Mystique. He thinks Weymouth, Worthington’s VP, is really Mystique.”
“Yeah. Great. Worry about that when you don’t end up dead.”
“You’re a lot of help, Logan. You know that?” Bobby muttered, crossing the roof in rapid footsteps to stand next to Shawn. Looking down, the two of them saw a scene that resembled Armageddon. Several cars in the parking lot were on fire and there were people lying on the ground, dead or injured, they couldn’t tell.
“Who did this?” Shawn asked, horrified.
“I don’t know.” Bobby’s voice was grim. A loud bang from the door to the roof made them both spin around.
“Gun fire!” Shawn yelped, ducking down. Bobby dropped to the ground next to him. “How do we get down?”
Bobby ignored him and spoke into his watch again. “Angel? We could use a lift here.”
“Negative, Iceman. A bit occupied.”
Bobby cursed again as a second shot sent ice chips flying away from the door. Shawn stayed crouched, rocking slightly as he glared at Bobby. “I can’t die here. I’ve got things to do! I’ve never been married! I’ve never climbed Mt. Everest! I’ve never danced naked in the moonlight!”
For a second, Bobby’s expression lost it’s tense look and he grinned at Shawn. “If I get you out of here, just promise I won’t be there for that last one.”
“Get me down how?” Shawn demaned.
“Like this.” Bobby stood up, his hand fisted in Shawn’s jacket as he pulled him upright. Stepping to the edge of the roof, Bobby stepped off into space, pulling Shawn with him. Too surprised to resist, Shawn screamed, expecting to plummet to his death, or at least to a pair of broken legs. Instead, he felt something spring up under his feet.
Bobby’s hand jerked him forward and Shawn tried to keep his balance as he slid on the surface of… whatever it was that was holding the two of them up. Moving with increasing speed, the two men slid down the… thing… until the ground rose up to meet them with a crash. Bobby stepped onto the ground and ran a few steps, before crouching down. Shawn’s landing was a lot less graceful. He tumbled head over heels for several feet before sprawling on the pavement of the parking lot face down.
“Freeze!”
“It’s too late for that,” Shawn muttered, climbing to his knees and looking down the barrel of a the handgun held by a very surprised Lassiter.
“Spencer!” Lassiter quickly aimed at the ground. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“That’s a long story.” Shawn reached up and felt his face, convinced that he’d left most of his skin on the ground. “What the hell was that?”
“This guy did it.” A familiar voice made Shawn turn and he gaped for a second at Buzz McNab, who was holding a gun on Bobby. “He’s a mutant.”
“And a friend!” Shawn climbed to his feet quickly and moved between the startled cop and the very tense mutant. “He saved me!”
“From what?” Lassiter looked around the parking lot, his face grim. “Godzilla?”
“Mutants.” Bobby’s voice was tense. “One in particular did this – Pyro.” Bobby watched, uncertain whether or not to put his hands down as Shawn reached out and gently pushed Buzz’s arms to the side.
“Buzz, come on man. We go way back. I gave you your cat. Don’t shoot my friend.”
“What?” Buzz blinked and dropped his arm suddenly. “Sorry, Shawn. I just… this place looks awful.”
“Yeah, well…” Shawn made a face again. “Angry mobs have that effect. A mutant may have done this, but it was anti-mutant fanatics that chased me through the hotel.”
Lassiter shot Shawn a strange look, but he nodded. “Stay here.” He picked up his radio. “O’Hara, what’s your 20?”
“He should get a watch like yours,” Shawn spoke softly, moving closer to Bobby. The younger man shushed him as Juliet’s voice echoed back over the radio.
“Inside the main lobby. It appears that most of the crowd is gone. But I’ve got Gus here with me.” Shawn breathed a sigh of relief even as Juliet continued. “He’s with some guy with wings and a guy with knives in his hands.”
“Those are my friends,” Bobby stepped forward and Lassiter raised a hand to warn him off.
“Yeah, well…” Lassiter shook his head. “Your friends and you,” he turned to Shawn, “and you and Gus, unless you have a very good explanation, are all under arrest.”