Disclaimer: I own nothing of Psych and its related characters. This is just for my own enjoyment and the potential enjoyment of other Psych-Os like me, and no monetary gain was expected or received.
Rating: T+
Spoilers: None.
A/N: This has become my dream-journal, something my therapist wants me to do, so when I have a dream I can remember, no matter how brief, I try to turn it into one of these stories. I don't dream often, but they're always freaky. I have recurring dreams, different situations but the same basic premise, and they happen almost constantly, but they bother me a great deal and I can't yet bring myself to put them down in concrete. I don't feel I really need to because I know where they come from, what they mean, and what I need to do about them, even if I don't know how to make them stop.
The Inventress
"I just had an interesting dream," Juliet said, rolling herself snugly into Carlton's arms in their bed.
"Oh yeah? What was it about?" he asked.
"I dreamed I was a teenaged girl who was an absolutely brilliant inventor. She could invent anything. She lived with her parents in this very strange house that was made of plastic or… I think maybe it was Bakelite. She had a big room with its own bathroom behind a curtain but her parents kept the washer and dryer in there and added a hot tub that very day that made her giggle and ask that they put up a curtain so she wouldn't have to see them making out in it. The room had tracks for curtains everywhere, like it had been a hospital room at some point.
"Anyway, the girl had to go to some sort of party in, I think, Washington D.C., so she invented a machine to sew her a fancy dress and it was absolutely stunning - silvery and glitzy and elegant - and she showed her mother the other dresses this machine had made for her, displayed on a dressmaker's dummy that was alive. When she got through with that she put on these shoes that made her float a little bit - shoes with hamburgers on the soles - and went outside in the snow to play kick the snowball and squash it with her family, still in the fancy dress."
"I think it may be safe to say that someone wants a fancy dress to wear to a party, at the very least," Carlton said, smiling.
Juliet blushed. "Maybe, a little. But I don't know where the hamburger-sole shoes came from."