Sick Day

Disclaimer: I don't own anything Psych or anything on the Discovery Channel or TLC or ... basically I don't own anything.

I just want to thank my wonderful betas. GBFreak1 and Jenn1984. You ladies rock.

Summary: Shawn's sick, why can't everyone just leave him alone? Oh, and I really don't spell this badly, but hey, he has a cold.

" 'Lo?"

"Shawn, are you still in bed?"

"Dad?"

"You were supposed to have been here an hour ago!" Henry said angrily into the phone.

"I'b sick, Dad," Shawn told him just before a fit of coughing overtook him.

"That's the worst fake cough I've ever heard. You did better than that when you were ten and didn't want to go to school."

"I'b nod faking." Shawn said then sneezed.

"I need you to come take a look at my computer," Henry told Shawn ignoring the sniffling. "You owe me, remember?"

"I'b sick!" His son said more adamantly the second time.

"Twenty minutes, Shawn. If you aren't here, I'm bringing it there."

When Henry hung up, Shawn pulled the blankets over his head to block out the midmorning sun. He had no intension of getting out of bed.

It felt like he had just closed his eyes when he heard the pounding on his apartment door. He crawled from his bed, pulling the blanket with him. After wrapping it around his shoulders, he slowly made his way to the door.

"Dad, blease, I'll tage a..." But it wasn't his father that was pushing past him.

"Hey," Gus said in his rush to find the television remote.

"Whud are you doing here?"

Gus waited for Shawn's sneezing fit to subside before answering. "I need to borrow your t.v."

"Whud for?"

"There's a documentary on the History Channel about Vlad the Impaler. I've been wanting to see it for a while."

"Who?" Shawn asked not really caring.

"Dracula," Gus answered. He found the channel and proceeded to make himself comfortable on Shawn's couch.

"Really?" Shawn asked sounding mildly interested. Then, after a shiver, asked. "Whud's wrong wid your delevision?"

"Satellites out at the office."

"Whud aboud your blace?"

"Your's is closer. Got anything to eat?"

"In the kidchen. I'b going da bed. Log ub when you leabe."

Gus waved an acknowledgment.

Shawn had only made it a few steps when he heard, what sounded like someone kicking his door. "Mind getting that since you're up?" Gus asked not taking his eyes from the television.

Shawn opened the door to see his father standing there holding a monitor. "Here," the older man said thrusting it at his son.

"Whud?" Shawn asked letting his blanket fall to the floor.

"I told you I would bring it if you didn't show up."

"I dold you I'b sick," he said still holding the computer screen.

"Fix it and I'll get out of your hair," Henry told him taking a seat next to Gus. "I saw this a few months ago."

"I keep missing it," Gus said.

"Dad, I need da combuder do figs id."

"That is the computer," Henry said getting up to grab a drink out of the kitchen. "Gus, you want anything?"

"Sure," he answered, turning up the volume.

"Dis is da monider. Da combuder is da bid bogz," Shawn told him becoming exasperated.

"Oh, that's in the truck. I got a spot right out front. Would you mind?" Henry said tossing Gus a soda.

"Yes, I'b sick. Do you see be here in by bogzers?"

Henry stood and stomped to the door. "Fine, I'll get it, but I'm not leaving until it's fixed."

As soon as Henry walked out the door, Shawn shut and locked it. "I'b going bag do bed."

Once again he was stopped before he made it to his bedroom. This time by the phone ringing. He looked at Gus who was so engrossed in the program he made no move to answer it.

"Hello?"

"Shawn, did you take back that movie we watched?"

"Bovie?"

"The one you, Gus and I watched the other night. You said you would drop it by the video store."

Shawn glanced at the top of his television. "Dabn, I'b sorry. I cobletely forgod."

"Shawn!" She cried, angrily. "Do you know how much that's going to cost?"

"I'll bay for id."

"Shawn! Open the door!" His father yelled.

"I'm coming by to get it, Shawn," Juliet said and hung up before he could stop her.

"Shawn!" Henry yelled again.

Walking back to the door, Shawn unlocked it and turned the handle. Henry kicked it open with his foot and carried his load to set it on the table next to the monitor. Shawn picked up his blanket, wrapped it around his shoulders and dropped tiredly in front of the computer.

"Whud's ..." He started, but had to stop for a coughing fit. "Whud's wrong wid id?" He asked after catching his breath.

"It won't log on to the internet."

"You wend wireless?" Shawn asked impressed that his father was so technologically up to date.

"What's wireless?"

Shawn took a deep breath. "Do you habe do plug id in do da wall?"

"Sure," Henry held up the plug from the back of the computer.

"Nod dad kind of plug. A cable," Shawn made a random gesture with his hands.

"I brought everything with me except the cable that comes out of the wall and plugs into this hole," Henry explained pointing to the back of the CPU.

"Dad, you habe a cable modeb."

"So?"

"I need da cable."

"But I brought all the cables except that one."

"I need dat one."

"Can't you use one of these other cables?"

"You're killing be, Dad," Shawn dead panned.

"Shawn, I need to check my MySpace account..."

"Your BySpace accound?" Shawn asked incredulously.

"Yes, I have made a few friends that I like to keep in touch with and ... What?" Henry asked at his son's look.

"Dad, I dink you really need do ged a job. Hobe Debot is brobably hiring."

Shawn realized they were yelling over the television. "Gus, can you durn dat down?"

"I can't hear over you two," the other man said.

Shawn's head was now starting to pound. "He stood up, led his father over to his laptop and pushed him into a chair. "Chad away."

Hearing people outside his door, Shawn walked over and opened it. Juliet stood with her fist raised prepared to knock. Her partner was standing behind her. "You look awful, Spencer." Lassiter said as he entered the apartment.

"Dank you," Shawn said trying, unsuccessfully, to hold back a sneeze.

"O'Hara, this is that show about Vlad the Impaler I was telling you about," Lassiter told her as he sat next to Gus on the couch.

"I did a paper on him in college," Juliet said sitting on the other side of Gus.

"A paper?" Gus asked.

"We had to pick any historical figure that was made famous by superstitious or supernatural events."

"Here's you bovie," Shawn said handing it to her.

"Thanks." She set it down on the end table and settled in to watch the show.

"Shouldn'd you be gedding bag to worg?"

"Lunch," Lassiter stated. "Anyone want to go in on a pizza?"

"That sounds good," Gus said and Juliet agreed.

"I'll take a piece of that," Henry called from his position in front of the laptop.

"No sausage," Juliet said.

"How 'bout half sausage, half pepperoni?" Lassiter asked.

"Just get one with everything on it," Henry said. Shawn heard the notes signaling an instant message.

"Except sausage," Juliet repeated.

"We should probably just get two," Gus told everyone.

Shawn quietly made his way to his room as his father and friends argued about pizza toppings. He fell asleep quickly and never heard the pizza being delivered or Gus and the others leave.

Later he woke to someone pulling his blankets over him. "No, hod," he said groggily, feeling the person touch his forehead.

"You have a fever," Henry whispered pulling the heavier blanket off his son, leaving the thinner sheet.

"Did dey leabe?" he asked quietly.

"Yeah. Gus left you some sample cold medicine and I went to the store. There's some soup and crackers in the kitchen and here's some water. I want you to drink plenty, got it?"

"Uh huh," he nodded sleepily.

"I'll come by later tonight to check on you."

"Okay," Shawn mumbled.

"You can fix my computer in a couple of days." Asleep, Shawn made no comment.

Henry turned out the lights throughout the small apartment. As he turned the doorknob to leave he heard Shawn in the bedroom, coughing. He stood listening until his son stopped. Glancing at his watch he realized the Indians' game would be starting soon. Henry picked up the remote and hit the power button, deciding he could watch the game just as well from Shawn's living room. He kicked off his shoes, put up his feet and pick up a leftover slice of pizza. Shawn had the better television anyway.

I hope you enjoyed this.