The Christmas Shoes
On my profile, there is a story pertaining to this fanfic. Please note that while I am the first to write a Psych songfic for 'The Christmas Shoes', I do not own Psych, the song, or the story on my profile.
A Shassie Fanfic
I sighed, leaning up against the counter. How long was this line going to take? I had to get home with the gifts for the rest of the team, or Shawn would never forgive me. A small boy who reminded me oddly of Chief Vick, dressed in filthy, shredded rags who was around eight years old, paced in front of me, extremely anxious about something. Finally, it was his turn. He placed the item he held in his dirty, gloved hands on the counter, and I noticed the most beautiful pair of red, sequined high heels I had ever seen. 'How was he going to afford them?' I wondered to myself. 'And just who were they for?'
"Sir, can you help me?" the little boy asked the cashier, sounding rather sad, but hopeful.
"Sure, son. What do you want?"
"That pair of shoes. My mother loved them the last time she was here, and I wanted to buy them for her as one last Christmas present. You see, Daddy said she had something called heart cacner(A/N: A little boy probably couldn't say cancer very well) and she would soon be meeting Jesus." My normally hard heart which had only softened for Shawn previously began to melt. This little child was going to lose his mother in the worst possible way, and he couldn't do a thing to help her except buy her a pair of shoes. "Daddy said she had until today to say her goodbyes. I don't want her to go without looking beautiful just for Jesus," he said. And with those words, he pulled out a sandwich baggie full of coins. He and the cashier counted them, and when they were done, the man pushed them back at the boy, sadness in his face.
"I'm sorry, son, but you don't have enough money. I wish I could help you, I truly do, but there's just not enough."
"Well, how much am I missing, sir?" he asked sadly.
"Twelve dollars and sixty-five cents, m'boy," replied the cashier. The little boy searched through his pockets frantically, but all he came up with was a dollar and fifteen cents. That lowered his total to only eleven fifty.
The boy hung his head and forced himself to say, "Thanks anyways, Mister." He turned to walk away, and before I knew what I was doing, I had my hand on his shoulder and my wallet out of my pocket. I handed the cashier a twenty, and as the little boy stared and the cashier asked me if I was sure, I nodded.
"After all, that's what Christmas is all about, isn't it? Helping those in need? Give the change to the kid; he deserves it for being so... so... thoughtful and kind and caring." I took in a shaky breath and said to the little boy, "My significant other went through this when he was your age, and no-one helped him. I didn't want that to happen again, so consider this a Christmas present."
"Thank you, mister?"
"Lassiter. Carlton Lassiter."
"Thanks, Mr. Lassiter! I can't believe it! Mom's gonna look awesome! My name's Peter Vick, by the way!" So that's why the kid looked so familiar. I was there for his birth when his father couldn't get there in time. I smiled as he ran out the door and I turned back to the cashier.
"I knew that kid's mother. I worked for her, actually, up until she lost her job a few years ago. Her family must really love her to have stuck with her through all that," I explained.
"I think you did the right thing, Police Chief Lassiter. Now, about your purchases?"
"Oh, yeah. Nearly forgot, what with that little boy and the shoes."
When I got to the station for the Christmas party, everyone was staring at me. My fiancee bounded up to me and asked, "Lassie-Face, where have you been? We've been waiting for you!"
"I was at the mall, Shawn. Getting the gifts, remember? Oh, and before this 'party' starts, I have something I want to say to the entire station."
"Alright, Lassiefrass. Go on up and say what you want to say."
I walked to the front of the station and said, "Has anyone heard of the song 'The Christmas Shoes'?" Everyone nodded, seemingly curious as to what I was getting at. "Well, I just had that exact same experience. One that Shawn went through when he was eight years old, he told me. The old Chief's son, Peter Vick was the little boy. He had found these red sequined high heels that she had wanted, and he was going to buy them. He was short eleven fifty, and I gave him twenty. He deserved it, for being brave enough to go into the store on his own and buy those shoes and ask for help." A murmur rippled through the crowd, and I noticed Shawn wiping a tear from the corner of his ever-smiling eyes. "He said that Karen Vick had heart cancer, and that she was due to die tonight. I am truly sorry for Peter and his father."