This was started for TotallyLosingIt forever ago; I just now got around to polishing it up enough to post. Thanks to Kkarrie for looking this over for me and giving me the green light to make a goof of myself by sharing this.
Okay, further disclaimers ... Psych and SGA belong to their respective owners. In no way am I trying to infringe on any copyrights that exist. This is simply for fun; I'm making no money from this bit of writing.
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John strode into the room amid the flashing lights and blaring alarms. "Rodney, what's going on?"
The other man kept his gaze focused on the panel in front of him. "I just entered the formula! It should be right, but the alarms all started going off once I submitted it."
"What are you trying to do anyway?" John asked, fighting the urge to cover his ears.
"Can you just hold on a second?" Rodney didn't wait for an answer but continued fiddling with various levers and buttons. Finally the lights quit flashing and the noise died to nothing. He took a breath and turned to John. "Sorry about that. It's all under control now. Nothing to worry about."
"What was that?" John persisted. "If it's something I should know about ..."
"It's fine," Rodney repeated, studying the small screen mounted above the control panel. "It's all under control now." He began pressing a few of the buttons on the panel, tapping commands into the system.
Suddenly, the lights set along the walls of the room blinked on again. They began flashing in quick succession, first red, then blue, then green. It was almost as if the light were traveling around the room, as one wall's lights lit up from left to right, flashing off as the next came on. It moved quicker and quicker until it seemed like they were all lit at the same time. The accompanying alarms sped up as well, and soon had the room's occupants covering their ears from the screech.
John winced. "Rodney, make it stop!" He was yelling to be heard over the noise, but even still, Rodney could barely hear him.
"Trust me, I'm trying!" the other man shot back.
Before anyone could move to do anything, all sixteen bulbs shattered at the same instant. John ducked and covered his head while Rodney dove under the table to avoid the shower of glass. The room filled with smoke, much more than one would have expected from the size of the explosion. When it finally cleared, John was the first to speak.
"Rodney …"
"What?" Crawling out from under the table, Rodney's next words turned into a stutter of disbelief. "What in the world …"
The man in the center of the room slowly turned to face them. He looked confusedly from one to the other. "Did Gus put you up to this?"
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Shawn never saw it coming.
One moment, he was minding his own business. (Well, not exactly; he had been on his way to the station to see what information he could get on a suspect.) The next, he was standing in an unfamiliar room, surrounded by smoke.
As the swirling haze dissipated, someone whose voice he didn't recognize spoke. Shawn turned towards the man as a second (still unfamiliar) man emerged from underneath a table in the center of the room. Both seemed as shocked, if not more so, than he was, but he wasn't taking any chances.
He put off commenting on why the man was under the table to ask, "Did Gus put you up to this?" It seemed like the logical conclusion, even though he had no idea how his friend could have pulled this off.
"Gus?" The man from under the table was now brushing himself off, studying Shawn with the analytical gaze of a scientist.
Shawn noted his jacket, with its patch of the Canadian flag. His gaze moved to the second man in the room, with his uniform, American flag patch, and sidearm (and great hair, he couldn't help noticing) . "Sorry, where am I, exactly? I mean, I'm obviously in some sort of international military base, but I really have no idea where. Or how I got here, for that matter."
The American cleared his throat, regarding Shawn with a slightly-suspicious expression. Shawn could see his muscles tensing, ready to draw if Shawn proved to be a threat. "I'm sorry, but where exactly did you come from?"
"Uh, Santa Barbara, California. United States," he added after a moment.
"I know where Santa Barbara is," the man replied. He turned to the scientist. "Rodney, how did he get here?"
"Like I know!" Rodney shot back. "Look, all I know is one minute I'm working on how to extract the information from the ..." he shot Shawn a look, "device, and the next thing I know, this guy is standing here! I mean, I'm sure I could figure it out; it's probably just an interference in the-"
"All right," the other man interrupted, turning back to Shawn.
"Don't look at me!" Shawn protested. "I was heading for the station and then I was here." He paused. "Oh man. If I disappeared from where I was, does that mean my motorcycle crashed?" He sounded both intrigued and horrified by the idea.
"Sheppard, I don't think it's his fault," Rodney offered. "You can probably stop interrogating him."
Sheppard held up a hand. "Just a minute. Now, uh ..."
"Shawn Spencer," Shawn supplied.
"... Shawn Spencer. You-"
Before Sheppard could continue, the room began to quiver as if hit by an earthquake. The walls trembled and the floor shook violently, throwing all three off balance. When the tremor had subsided, Rodney stepped back from the table he had grasped for support. He looked over at the other two, who were picking themselves up off the floor.
"Rodney, what was that?" John asked, rubbing his shoulder. It was tender to the touch, and he knew he'd have a good-sized bruise for the next week or two.
"Uh, well, it appears to have been an anomaly in the atmosphere, caused by whatever this device did that brought him here." He cast a glance at Shawn, who was attempting to stand on unsteady feet. "And no, I can't give you an exact explanation yet. I'm still trying to figure out how this device works."
"You okay?" John asked Shawn.
Shawn put a hand to the back of his head. It came away bloody. "Ow. Uh, no, not exactly."
Making his way to stand behind Shawn, John pushed his hand away. "Let me see."
Shifting his weight and ducking his head, Shawn finally gave up on avoiding an inspection. He threw his hands up in surrender. "Fine. But does someone mind explaining what exactly is going on? I think being yanked from my day, brought here, and half-killed in an earthquake entitles me to an explanation!"
"You weren't half-killed," Rodney scoffed.
"I've heard it both ways," Shawn shot back.
"You've heard - That sounds like a sorry excuse for covering your tracks to me."
"You would say that. It seems like you're the one who made it happen in the first place." Shawn crossed his arms over his chest.
Rodney's mouth dropped open. "Now wait just a -"
John cleared his throat. "Rodney!"
"What?" The other man snapped, upset at being interrupted. "Fine. Fine." He shrugged at the look and turned back to the computer-like device on the table.
John tapped the device on his ear, similar to a bluetooth device. "Carson, can you come down here? Bring your kit."
"Who are you talking - Ow!"
"Stop fidgeting, Shawn." John's voice left no room for argument. "You're going to need medical attention."
A few moments later, a dark-haired man hurried through the door carrying a black bag. When he saw Shawn, he paused. His eyes widened slightly before he shot Rodney a suspicious look. "What's going on here, Rodney? Who is this?" His Scottish brogue matched the flag patch on his sleeve.
"Why do you always blame me for things?" the scientist protested, lifting his gaze from the screen.
"Shawn Spencer," Shawn offered, extending a hand.
"And where'd you come from, if you don't mind me asking?" Carson inquired, hesitating before shaking the offered hand. His expression was still one of confusion.
Shawn sighed. "California, but I have no idea how I got here. And I can't seem to get an answer from anyone around here either." He gave Rodney another annoyed look.
"Hey, why is everyone blaming me for this? Why not him?" He flung an arm behind himself in John's direction as he continued typing with the other.
Carson just ignored him and headed for Shawn and John. "Here, let me see."
Moving aside, Sheppard stepped back and crossed his arms. "He's gonna be okay, right, Doc?"
"Oh yeah. Just a small gash. He'll be fine," Carson said, slightly distracted as he dug around in his bag.
"Just a small one, huh? Well, it still hurts!" Shawn complained.
John couldn't help grinning at that. "Congratulations, McKay."
"For what?" Rodney's muffled voice floated out from under the table.
"I think we found someone who would give you a run for your money in the infirmary."
"What exactly is that supposed to mean?"
Carson chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. "It's very true, Rodney."
"So," Shawn spoke up, "how long until you can send me back?"
John looked over at Rodney in expectation as well; Carson kept his gaze on his task, but he was clearly waiting to hear the answer.
"How long - I can't give you a timeline!" Rodney exclaimed indignantly. "It takes time to work through all the codes and processes just to figure out how this works. It's a very complicated piece of technology. It's going to take me a while to do that, and then I have to figure out how to make it send you back. And you want me to give you a time on when I can finish?"
"You're saying he's stuck here?" John clarified.
"What else would that mean? Of course he's stuck here! At least until I can figure this thing out."
"And you don't know when that will be." Shawn and John spoke at the same time.
Rodney shot them an annoyed glance. "No. I told you, I don't know how long it will take."
"How about an estimate?" John queried.
Throwing his hands up, Rodney finally replied, "Fine. At least a day. Maybe more, but I can't say."
"There," Carson broke in, stepping back. "That ought to hold you, at least until I can get you to the infirmary. You're going to need stitches."
Shawn touched a hand to the bandage on his head. "You sure I can't just let it heal on its own?"
"Not unless you want to run the risk of infection. And it'll heal a lot better once it's sewn up."
"But-"
"No buts," Carson interrupted firmly. "Now unless Dr. McKay or Colonel Sheppard want you to stay here for anything, I'll need you to follow me."
Shaking his head, Rodney bent back over the keys and buttons in front of him. John waved them off. "Just take Lorne with you and be sure to keep your radio on. We'll let you know if Shawn's needed back here."
"Wait!" Rodney suddenly looked up. "That's it!"
"What's it?" the other three asked together.
"I can't believe it's that simple. I mean, really. All I had to do was connect the power source to the ..."
Shawn held up a hand. "You're starting to sound like a mad scientist." At John's expression, he shrugged and added, "Okay, so you are a mad scientist. Look, if Gus were here, he'd be interested, trust me. I just want to leave ... wherever here is, and get back home. I don't really care how you do that, other than that you send me back in one piece."
"Yes, well, that won't be an issue." Rodney crossed his arms and gave Shawn a smug grin. "Seems like since I'm the one who knows how this thing works, you probably don't want to mock me."
"Mock you?" Shawn gave him a look of innocence.
Rodney crossed his arms. "Yes, that's generally what I'd call that. Now do you want me to send you back or not?"
"Can we just get on with this?"
Giving John another look of annoyance, Rodney sighed. "Fine." Turning back to Shawn, he directed, "Stand right over there, on that circle, where you appeared before."
Shawn obeyed, looking around expectantly. "How does this work? Am I going to be like Sam Beckett or more like Quinn Mallory?"
Rodney gave him a confused look, then shook his head. "Look, just stand there and be quiet."
"Does talking affect the device?" Shawn wanted to know.
"I'm not sure ... Why don't we just play it safe?" With a flurry of fingers, Rodney entered a command sequence on the keyboard.
"This isn't going to blow up on us again?" John asked, glancing up at the remnants of the lightbulbs on the walls.
"I don't expect them to, no. Now just hold on a second ..." Trailing off, Rodney completed whatever code he had been working on and hit one of the buttons with a flourish.
Shawn started to say something but was quickly surrounded by a flash of light and a cloud of smoke. Once it cleared, Rodney breathed a sigh of relief.
"Well, it looks like everything's back to normal."
"Just ... don't try any more technology out without fully exploring it first?" Carson suggested, packing up his bag.
"You do know you're going to have to file a report on this?" John turned back to Rodney. "Elizabeth's going to need to know an unauthorized civilian was here."
"Yes, yes, of course. But do you realize what this could mean? If harnessed correctly, we could use this in place of the Stargate!" Rodney's words were coming even faster as he excitedly began fiddling with buttons and levers.
Carson just shook his head and left to return to the infirmary, leaving John to deal with the scientist. When Rodney got going on something, there was no stopping him.
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Shawn blinked in the sudden sunlight, looking around himself with an expression of befuddled curiosity. He was back on the same side street in Santa Barbara as he had been less than an hour before. Nothing appeared different other than the fact that his motorcycle was now resting halfway in a pile of black garbage bags on the curb.
Looking around, Shawn could see no one watching him curiously, as he would have expected if he had suddenly disappeared for fifteen minutes. Then again, there was no one in sight at all, which was kind of a bummer. He'd have loved to find out what any onlookers thought of the situation.
A pain shot through his head, and Shawn put a hand up to rub the spot. His hand came into contact with the gauze Carson had put there, and he grinned. At least he knew he hadn't been imagining things.
Gus was never going to believe this.