Psych: The Real Deal

Summary: What if Shawn Spencer was actually psychic? What would be the repercussions? How would it affect the story? And what happens when criminal sights are set on him for his gift…?

Disclaimer: This is a fan-fiction story of the TV show; Psych, and is in no way affiliated with the actual show. All characters and other materials related to the show that are used are not intended to infringe on any Copyrights. Elemental-Zer0 takes sole responsibility for any mistakes or offence that may be taken but truly not meant. However, any characters that are not related to any copyrights are copyrighted to Elemental-Zer0 as is any variations to the plot set out in the show.

Authors Note: Here's part two of my altered version of the Spelling Bee case. Is anyone still reading this? Just wondering as I've had very little responses to these recent chapter updates. I mean, I'm not looking for adoration or countless reviews – nothing like that at all - I'm just wondering if it's worth me continuing if no-one's reading it?

Be sure to let me know your thoughts, and if you have any criticism to make, please do it politely.


Case #2: Spelingg Bee - Part 2

When Henry got back to his front door, he found a slightly frantic Gus stood on the porch pacing back and forth across the welcome mat. He was clearly flustered but the relief in his eyes when he saw Henry turn up almost broke the poor serial-worrier.

"Mr Spencer! Have you seen Shawn?! He sent me a very concerning text message over an hour ago and hasn't answered his phone since!" He said all in one breath and Henry had to place a hand on the young man's shoulder to stop the tirade and ground the man before he bounced off into orbit.

"Calm down Gus, Shawn's inside, asleep." He confirmed but this didn't seem to alleviate Gus's concern at all.

"Did he tell you who attacked him?" He asked, and Henry frowned at the statement. Shawn had been attacked? Well, that would account for the dazed and fugue-like state he'd found his son in. But he seemed fine when he was talking with Henry earlier; there were no signs of any lasting trauma.

"No. He didn't." Henry admitted, and his mind went back a few hours earlier to when he'd found Shawn at the bottom of his drive looking pale and lost, but Henry didn't recall seeing any injuries or signs of abuse. "He seemed fine when we spoke earlier. I'm sure if he were that worried about it, he'd have said something." Henry reasoned, and it was a safe assumption to make. Shawn was always forthright with them when it came to something as impacting as a debilitating injury/experience. Though what that meant for this new venture with the Police consultancy thing was something they'd have to explore as it happened.

"Are you sure?" Gus asked, and Henry was once again thankful for the saint that was his son's best friend. Gus's concern for Shawn was as loyal as a biological brother's should be. And Henry honestly did not know how he'd managed to raise Shawn without him.

"I'm sure Gus." Henry said with a confidence borne of years of experience. "Now why don't you grab the other bag on the passenger seat and help me set up for lunch?" He said, changing the topic. "You're in luck, the butchers had a sale on the steaks, got me six for the price of four." He added as the two set about getting the bags into the house.

They worked quietly in the kitchen, talking in soft and low tones so as not to wake Shawn while they worked together to set up for lunch. Gus was well versed with the Spencer kitchen set up, having practically grown up in the house too when they were younger. The two then took to the back yard where they set up the grill and the picnic table for lunch.


The steaks were just about done when Shawn woke to its tantalising aroma filling the house. He stirred reluctantly from his peaceful slumber, mouth-watering and stomach rumbling. Slowly he sat up and blinked at the fireplace until he felt he was awake enough to stand up and investigate the wonderful smells coming from the garden. He must have looked a sight if Henry's frown was anything to judge by.

"Gus, hey." Shawn greeted as he was suddenly aware of him sat on the picnic bench beside a plethora of sauces, salads, and a potato salad expertly mixed by the man he was addressing. "What are you doing here?" Shawn asked curiously. Both were close enough to not take the question as an insult, so Shawn felt safe asking it. But both Gus and Henry were aware of the weight that questions carried; usually Shawn had Gus on some internal radar and would always know when he was nearby unless he was utterly drained or out of sorts. It was an indicator of how bad Shawn currently felt. And it was a concerning one.

"Well," Gus shrugged in an exaggerated fake nonchalance, "When my best friend texts me to tell me that he was attacked in the middle of the park, I panicked." He admitted. And Shawn found himself frowning in confusion. He hadn't sent a text to anyone. But Gus hadn't finished talking; "I spent half an hour trying to track you down using the find-my-phone function on your phone. It pinged you here but there was no answer when I knocked on the door. Your dad finally came home and let me in." He finished, and both his father and Gus stared at him expectantly.

"I didn't send you a text Gus." Was all he could say. It was the one thing that had confused him about the whole story that Gus had just recited. Gus paused for a moment, frowning.

"Yes, you did." He said as he pulled out his phone and quickly scrolled to his message bank. "Otherwise how would I have known about the attack?" he asked as he scrolled through the messages, but his frown deepened when he couldn't locate the message that had sent him on a frantic search for his best friend. "What the…?" he trailed off, unable to understand what was happening. "The message is gone…" and even Henry came over to look over the man's shoulder.

Shawn's attention, however, was in the corner of the garden where a young woman with light red hair and bright green eyes stood silently. Her gaze was drawn downward to her hands which held an older style of mobile phone.

Ysabel.

She was one of his guardian spirits and didn't ordinarily involve herself in Shawn's business unless she was summoned or if she felt someone else needed to interfere on her behalf. She was the silent type, and always avoided eye contact. She communicated solely through the phone in her hands and had only looked Shawn in the eye twice. And if she was the Ysabel that he'd found records on in the library, then she'd died in a horrific car crash while texting on her phone. This had been back before the laws on texting and driving had been passed. Shawn wasn't entirely sure why she'd attached herself to him, but this was not the first time her interference had helped him. He gave her a grateful nod that she didn't acknowledge before disappearing in a twinkle of sunlight through the tree leaves.

"Don't worry too much about it, Gus." Shawn said as he sat himself down on the opposite of the bench. "Someone from the other side is interfering." He explained as he eyed where Ysabel had vacated from. Both Gus and Henry looked up to him in askance and then to where Shawn had glanced at.

"Yzzie?" Henry asked as he turned back to the grill where he'd been preparing their lunch meal. Both non-psychic men knew that if it was phone related ghostly activity then it was most likely Ysabel. They were familiar with phone glitches and interference when she was around. Shawn gave a nod before pulling an empty glass across the table and pouring some lemonade for himself, all the while mentally counting down the seconds until one of them asked him about the attack.

"What did she mean though? Were you attacked?" Gus asked predictably. Shawn took a sip of the lemonade and saw out of the corner of his eye that Henry was also paying close attention. Shawn took his time swallowing his mouthful as he took himself back to the park just outside the new Psych office and decided that he'd need to ward the office in case of future attacks. It wasn't a common threat; in fact, it had only really happened a total of three times.

Well, four now.

"I don't know who she was, but a there was a girl, dressed in dark clothes with a cap who attacked me with psychic energy. She targeted me alone." Shawn recapped succinctly. "She looked me dead in the eye, and while her face was shaded, I could feel her gaze connect with mine. Her attacks looked like black smoke too. I've never seen anything like it before." He continued and his captive audience were riveted. To the point where Henry had even stopped paying attention to the steaks on the grill. "I blocked the first attack, barely. I hadn't expected it, so I wasn't fully prepared. It knocked me to the floor. Took a lot out of me too." He admitted and winced at the memory of his knees hitting the pavement hard. He rubbed them softly as he continued and felt the bruises already forming. "But George showed up and warned me she was firing up another one. I braced properly this time and it wasn't as bad. She seemed surprised by that, then just gave me a nod and disappeared." He finished and came back to the garden.

Gus was looking at him with that half suspicious/half concerned frown that he usually wore when he was worried about Shawn's safety when the supernatural was concerned. Henry however had a very dark frown on his face as he turned his attention back to the steaks. He usually adopted that particular frown when he was faced with a supernatural threat that he couldn't fight off without a spell or having to rely on Shawn. It was the frown of a protector who was unable to protect.

"Do you think that's who I saw at the McCullum gates, instead of Sally?" Gus asked, eyes hovering on the potato salad bowl, but his thoughts were clearly back at the driveway he'd just mentioned. Shawn gave it some thought and shrugged.

"I dunno." He admitted, "I didn't get a vibe then, but I was distracted by Harriett at the time." He added. Gus's frown returned to Shawn for a split second before he sighed and sat up a little straighter.

"Well, I don't like it Shawn." He said decisively. "First you get pulled into the whole Police thing, and now you're being attacked by other psychics…" he sighed like a man at his wits end. "I just, I don't like it." He reiterated and Henry agreed loudly.

"Me neither. I don't want you going anywhere for a while on your own." His father added and Shawn sat upright to protest.

"Hey, I won the fight! And George was there too! She ran off!" he argued back but Henry gave him his stern 'I'm-not-arguing-this-point-and-that's-final' glare before turning the steaks on the grill.

"Remember what I said, son? If I'm going to try and see things from your perspective, you gotta do me the same courtesy." Henry reminded him and Shawn felt his shoulders sag in defeat. He had promised that. And he had agreed that he didn't need to fight these battles alone. It took a lot of effort, but Shawn begrudgingly relented.

"Fine." He agreed. "But I pee alone." He added petulantly, to which Henry gave him a long-suffering sigh but with a fond smile at the end of it.

"Sure, Shawn." He said, "And you can shower alone too. Now, in fact. You reek." He added with a teasing grin. Shawn gave him a glare without heat before he took another long sip from his cup and stood up.

"Fine, but I'm using your expensive soap." He said over his shoulder as he exaggeratedly stormed off inside the house.

When he was out of earshot, Henry turned to Gus with a serious look in his eye. Gus met his gaze and gave a solid nod. Though no word was uttered, the askance and a promise made of looking after Shawn was sealed between the two men.

No one was getting to their boy. Not if they could help it.


The Santa Barbara Police department was both intimidating and a welcome sight to one Junior Detective Juliet O'Hara. It hadn't been her first choice, but she was happy enough to see where her career in this city would take her. Having come from a family of high achievers and mostly militia or law enforcement, she felt that destiny had had a hand in placing her in this particular depot. She wasn't sure why, it was just a feeling.

Her Grammy had always said she'd had a sixth sense for these kinds of things. Juliet wasn't sure about that herself, but she couldn't deny that she'd gotten where she was today by siding with her gut feeling. She'd been faced with several hard choices, each one being much harder than the previous. She'd been cautious about her decisions, and even though logic dictated she should have taken the extended course as had been recommended to her, she knew deep inside that she could pass the fast track and she did with flying colours. She'd been inclined to believe that her Grammy was onto something.

She was doubtful, as most would be, in the supernatural and its existence. But there were moments in her life where she did wonder if there was a guiding hand directing her to where she needed to be.

Like now for example.

It was only her first day, and already the office talk was abuzz with conversations about a new psychic consultant having joined the departments remit only a few days ago. The stories of the guy having solved a very high profile in a matter of hours sounded exaggerated and a little unbelievable, but those she'd spoken to were adamant that there had been no embellishments involved.

Her new partner however didn't have much to say on the matter aside from a few blasphemies and some treasonous oaths. Somehow, Juliet suspected that Detective Lassiter had run afoul of the psychic and was loathe to admit the guy was as good as the rumour mill was gossiping about.

But there was something about this psychic that seemed to resonate within her. It was another gut feeling that seemed to fill her with a confidence that she'd made the right choices so far. For some reason, she couldn't wait to meet this psychic man; this Shawn Spencer.


It had only taken a short fifteen minutes before Shawn had returned to the garden, clean and dressed in fresh clothes from his stash he'd kept in his old room before his father had taken an elongated trip. The smell of grilled steaks wafting strongly in through the bathroom window had been the main factor for why he'd been quick about his duties. He emerged onto the decking, hair still damp and mouth watering at the sight of the steaks on a plate at his table setting.

"God this looks good dad." He uttered as he sat himself down at the table. "Thanks." He added quickly before tucking into the hot meal. He felt Gus look up at him, and just knew that his brother-friend wanted to talk to him about something, but Shawn decided to ignore it for a sake of the food before him. If it was important, Gus would voice it anyway.

"So…" Apparently it was important. "I saw a case file on your desk this morning. Signed off by the chief of police herself too." He added by way of asking for information. Shawn lightly berated himself for having forgotten to tell Gus sooner about Karen's late-night visit last night.

"Oh yes, Karen dropped it off last night." He said and took another bite of his lunch before continuing. "Said it had a personal connection and that the depot is too busy to deal with it." He continued as he swallowed the mouthful and took a sip of the warming lemonade. "Also said that the Mayor himself asked for my help. Apparently, he'd read about the McCullum case and was impressed with how fast we solved that case." He added. Gus looked at him as if trying to figure out if Shawn was telling the truth.

"There wasn't anything to solve in the McCullum case, you had a psychic hit. There was hardly any deducing required." He said with a frown, the salad on his fork wobbled as he gestured over his plate but didn't fall off completely. Clearly, his brother-friend didn't want to take undue credit, especially if it gave the wrong impression and they were expected to produce those same results again. The consequences of failing that expectation was a little uncertain at the moment despite Karen's promises of being on the level with them.

"True, but it was a fast close and a high-profile case which would make it look impressive to someone like the Mayor, whose asthmatic son is at risk of having his inhaler tampered with at the national spelling bee competition this week." Shawn replied and Gus's head snapped to attention. Shawn tried to hide the knowing smirk that crept its way to his face but couldn't hide it completely. He'd known for years that Gus was a spelling bee fan and had watched the nationals every year, mourning the loss of his own opportunity to have participated when he was younger.

"The national competition?" he asked rapidly, and it was like watching a dog salivate at the mere mention of the word steak. "The televised one that's been on for the past two days?" He asked again without waiting for an answer to his first question and Shawn had to chuckle at how excited his friend had become.

"Yes Gus, the one on the TV." He confirmed and took another bite of his lunch before elaborating. "Looks like someone is trying to sabotage the inhalers, Karen asked me to look into it for her as a personal favour." He explained. Then added for Gus' benefit. "On the books. We'll get paid for it." Just to stop the tirade before it started.

"So, what are your working thoughts so far?" Henry asked, having been listening closely for the past few minutes. Sometimes the cop in him just couldn't stay retired. Shawn gave a shrug as he took a sip from his glass again. The lemonade had warmed to luke-warm under the sun, but he was thirsty so drank it anyway.

"Not much as yet. I was too busy fending off psychic attacks and heading for the closest safe place I could get to." He admitted off-handedly but didn't miss his father's double-take from the corner of his eye. Oops, he hadn't meant to be so honest with that comment. "But." He added in a louder voice, to try an detract from the sudden admission of needing a safe place to retreat to, "I have an appointment with the Head Directors of the competition at three p.m. this afternoon." He said quickly. "Gus, I know you don't finish until five…" But before he could finish his sentence, Gus was already whipping out his work phone and firing off a text message.

"I'm already owed six hours of overtime. I'm claiming three of them back now." Gus said with an expression akin to a cat that not only ate the canary, but its whole family too. Shawn couldn't stop himself, he chuckled out loud and shook his head. Gus remained very happy for the rest of the meal while they discussed the finer details of the case.


Up Next:

Shawn takes Gus to interview the competition admins, but the case turns out to be more than they bargained for.

Sparks fly when Shawn lays eyes on the new Junior detective, Juliet O'Hara who seems excited to meet him, but something holds him back.

In an attempt to clear his head, Shawn takes off to the beach alone and against his better judgement.