Disclaimer: I don't own Psych. If I did, I'd be basking in the brilliance of last night's episode.
Seriously, "Last Night Gus" counts among the best Psych episodes ever. I loved it so much, I was inspired to write this continuation, my guess on Shawn's thoughts when he returns to his bachelor pad at the end of the day after his discussion with Juliet. I hope you enjoy!
Shawn pushed open the door to his home with a tired sigh. He may not remember how much sleep he got the night before, but from the way his body was protesting, he was guessing it wasn't much.
The psychic detective rubbed his eyes with his hands and gave his head one good shake, trying to keep himself awake for a while longer. He caught a whiff of… holy Judd Nelson, was that him? He added "shower" to his mental to-do list for the night, a list that ended with collapsing onto his bed and falling into a deep and non-rufi-induced sleep.
But cleaning off the donut powder and hotel ashes would have to wait for now. No. 1 on his list was food, a fact punctuated at that moment by a large growl that came from his stomach.
Straightening his back, Shawn walked into his de facto kitchen and scrounged for dinner. He had moved out of his previous apartment, a dry cleaner, about six months ago when his landlord decided to rent the location to an actual business instead.
Never one to settle for normal living quarters, Shawn had converted his new pad from a shuttered snowboarding store. Can't imagine why that didn't succeed in Santa Barbara. Shawn had really wanted the old palm readers' place across the street, but it wasn't for sale.
The cashier's counter to the right of the entrance had become his kitchen island. He circled around the counter and started opening cabinet doors, searching for a meal that piqued his interest. After staring blankly for a few seconds, he swiped the nearest cereal box and went to grab milk from the fridge.
Once he had a large bowl nearly overflowing with Cocoa Puffs, he leaned back against the counter and stared out at his apartment. Suddenly, it seemed very… empty.
Which was, of course, ridiculous. There was an absurd amount of knick knacks and clutter covering every surface – mementos from his travels and cases, an impressive collection of DVDs and video games, the odd piece of laundry. But a niggling in the back of his mind told him something was missing.
Shawn shrugged it off. Probably just my Nikes, he thought. I never did get my shoes back from evidence. Maybe that weird guy from records can use them for food the next time he gets locked in over a holiday weekend.
His attention flitted from the floors and shelves to the walls, which were covered in a photo mural of a snow-covered mountain, the reason he agreed to buy the place. When he looked at it, he felt free, alive. Jules said it just made her feel cold.
Shawn's lips quirked in a smile.
Then he froze.
Crap, he thought. Because Shawn had just figured out what was missing.
Screw Last Night Shawn. Why did he have to open this can of worms?
Because as much as commitment-phobic Today Shawn wanted to table this discussion for later – for much later – ever since Jules told him, he hadn't been able to keep his thoughts at bay.
In rufi veritas, right? (In vino veritas? He'd heard it both ways.) Learning that he had asked Juliet to move in with him was like getting a window into his subconscious. A subconscious that, scarily, was a lot more mature and grown-up than Shawn wanted to admit. When had his outer sophomoric exuberance started masking a responsible adult center? Shawn wasn't sure he liked it.
Obviously, he wasn't all the way there. He still had a decent amount of freak-out left in him. But, he mused, not nearly so much as he would have expected.
Perhaps because of how Jules handled the situation. She didn't force him to talk about it. She didn't get upset that Today Shawn wasn't as gung-ho as Last Night Shawn about the proposition. She had even said it was romantic.
Really, how does a guy respond to that?
Shawn had defaulted to joking with Jules as they walked to assess the donut shop damages. But that was purely a defense mechanism. Because he had come justthisclose to changing his mind on the spot and saying they should move in together right then. And if he had been scared of Last Night Shawn's decision-making, that revelation from a completely sober Shawn totally terrified him.
He placed his empty cereal bowl on the counter behind and took a deep breath to settle himself down.
In the end, he knew Today Shawn had made the right decision. He wasn't ready to clean his dirty cereal bowl instead of leaving it on the counter overnight. He wasn't ready to fold all his laundry. He wasn't ready to de-clutter his floor. He wasn't ready to take down his Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles poster. He wasn't ready. Today.
Looking around again, he smiled, taking his usual defiant pride in his spontaneous, carefree lifestyle. But he had the sense that he was enjoying the last few bites of a rich chocolate cake. They're delicious, and you want to savor them, but you're so stuffed that you're also looking forward to finishing that final bite.
And every time he thought about it, Shawn got a little less afraid about what would happen after that.
OK, enough thinking, he thought to himself. And I thought I was tired before. Time to hit the showers before this gets too crazy.
Turning toward his bedroom, Shawn sent one last, sweeping glance around his beloved bachelor pad.
When we move in together, we'll have to use Juliet's place.