1. Pick a character, pairing, or fandom you like.
2. Turn on your music player and put it on random/shuffle.
3. Write a drabble/ficlet related to each song that plays. You only have the time frame of the song to finish the drabble; you start when the song starts, and stop when it's over. No lingering afterwards!
4. Do ten of these, then post them.
Title: Shawn's Infinite Playlist
Word Count: 2200 words.
Notes: Meme copied from lipstickcat. I think this meme proves how little I can actually write within a couple of minutes. Also, how much I regret that I used my entire music library to shuffle. A mixture of Gen, Lassiter/Victoria, Shawn/Gus, Shawn/Lassiter.
1. Angel Eyes - Ella Fitzgerald
Victoria never forgets Carlton's smile, not a week after they split, not a year, nor a decade. When he smiles, his whole face lights up and his eyes especially - so very blue and clear - shine like the diamonds he's never been able to afford. But he hardly ever smiles. It's such a rare occurrence that the love she once felt shatters the same as the photograph frames thrown to the ground in one of their many arguments. She wishes she could say to him, "you know, I'd still love you --- if you were you." But she can't. He doesn't even know he's changed and she's moved on, away, can't bear to look into those eyes - so very blue and cold - anymore.
2. Felt Mountain - Goldfrapp
Shawn doesn't remember being nineteen. He knows it must have happened at some point. Hopefully between the ages of eighteen and twenty, although he'll give it a little leeway and include twenty-one to twenty-two. He suspects he visited lots of places, met lots of people, but he remembers so little of it. All he gets are blurred visions of colour and line, a myriad of paths he must have taken or looked at, or something. He's tried to invoke memories using scent and touch, skimming his hands over the items he thinks he had, lifting old shirts to his face and sniffing washing detergent that erased all signs of past cologne, booze and the other substances that leave him with such vague recollections. But there's nothing but the remnant sensation of the needle in his skin, the way the spoon would warp in the heat of the flame, how thirsty he'd get clubbing. He must have tried everything, and at the end of that possibly long or possibly short year, decided he didn't need anything.
3. Elliot Smith - Waltz #2
She's got someone new now, someone better than he is, more readily available and emotionally direct. He knows he should get over it. They've been separated over two years and divorced another six months after that. He can't get over it. He loves her. He's always loved her. So each day that goes by after he sees her with this new man, he can't help but get steadily more depressed.
4. The Other Side - Scissor Sisters
When Shawn rolls his head to the side and tells Gus calmly that they're VBF Fo' Life, Gus gives a wan smile and nods. Shawn's intense, scary intense a lot of the time. Gus tries not to let it worry him, but doesn't always succeed and he's fairly sure this is showing through. Shawn takes hold of Gus' wrist and repeats his earlier sentiment with new words.
"I mean it. We're always gonna be together, bro, like all the best combinations --- peanut butter and jelly, Siegfried and Roy, ebony and ivory, dude; that's us."
"Is that all you can say, Gus? Nice?"
"We're about to be killed, Shawn. You're lucky I can talk at all."
Shawn gives a partial flail hampered by the handcuffs. "They're not gonna kill us. The big butch man with the gun's just trying to scare us, that's all."
"Even if he did kill us, I'd be there for you. I'd haunt you from the other side and whatnot."
Gus sighs. "I thought you didn't believe in ghosts?"
"I don't, but you do."
"Please be quiet so that we don't encourage your swift and merciless death."
"Dude, if it's happening, I'm not going down swiftly. It's prolonged pain all the way."
"Much like how I feel about us being VBF Fo' Life?"
"Jeez, Gus! Harsh. Now lie still so I can try to gnaw through your shirt."
"How's that going to help?"
"It's not. I just... want to."
5. The New Maybe - The Tragically Hip
Shawn's never said, "I love you", and meant it. He thinks he's said it to the people he loves, he's just never really said it for anything but a nefarious reason. He's said it to annoy them, or to shame them, or to prove a point. He's never said it just because he feels it.
Saying those words cuts too close to the bone. Emotion, real emotion, is a dangerous element he has no control over. What if he said those things and lost everything? Maybe he'd ruin whatever good situation he had going. Perhaps he'd say it at the wrong time, in the wrong way.
Just supposing, once he said it, it wouldn't really be true.
6. Me Like Hockey - Arrogant Worms
Shawn and Henry have never really had any common interests outside of Henry training Shawn, and even then, Shawn would argue there's nothing really common or interesting about that.
When he was fourteen, Shawn spent the summer trying to get into the same sports Henry liked. Baseball was okay, but slow and Shawn spent most of the time watching the techniques of the food vendors. Football was fine, but really, pretty much for wimps, all that armour and padding for manoeuvres Shawn could pull off blindfolded. Angling sent Shawn into a state of catatonia. The only one that he really sorta could see himself liking was hockey. Not field hockey, which wasn't nearly as cool as Lacrosse (which of course, Henry did not like, because that would mean things were too easy --- Shawn could totally have been on board then, it was a Demi-God amongst sports), but Ice Hockey, which was kinda boss. The players glided around, acting like particularly industrious and creative cavemen, slamming each other into walls. Shawn enjoyed it, it made him laugh. And then Henry suggested Shawn join the local team and any and all interest, common or otherwise, went flying out the window.
When he thinks about it, Shawn regrets their lack of connection. All they have is observation and wanting to be right; which is fine, most of the time, but he's not sure it's the way things are meant to be between a father and a son. Aren't they supposed to be able to have more than ten minutes of conversation that doesn't centre around a case? Even if they're not, he'd like that. It would be good just to be able to sit and talk, once in a while. Maybe now he's older, they can watch hockey without Shawn fearing imminent destruction of his front teeth.
7. Strut - Jimmy Smith (with Taj Mahal)
It's all about movement. The art of the con is about appearances and with Shawn that ties into the right gait, the right balance, the right use of smoothness and fluidity. His body is his tool, to do with as he pleases, and it does his bidding exceptionally well.
Well, it used to. Lately it's been a treacherous traitor and he doesn't know how to get back to before he began having a wildly inappropriate physical reaction to Lassiter's presence.
See, once upon a time, if he was tense, he'd tell his body to relax, and it would. Now, just the merest sight of Lassie leaning against the wall sends his muscles into overdrive and he's stiff as a board. Which would be okay, if he didn't rely upon his ability to seem calm and content most of the day and night. It's difficult to appear calm and content when you're sporting a raging hard-on.
Shawn takes deep breaths whenever he goes into the station, closes his eyes, gives himself a few moments alone in a toilet cubicle and hopes to hell he'll have command again soon.
8. I'm Different - The Whitlams
"You know I'm not really a regular person, right, Phil?"
"What does that mean?"
"That I tried once and failed. I'm just too unique and interesting. The French call it 'du fromage', which, loosely translated means 'of cheese'."
Psych - "Gus Walks Into a Bank"
It's not that Shawn doesn't want to be like everyone else, because he would totally do that if it was within his field of capability. He wishes he could be content with the house and the car and the 2.4 kids. But he isn't. Whenever he's made a concerted effort to be like the other mindless automatons in the city of Santa Barbara he's had the innate urge to run the hell away. And so he has.
It's not that he's above going to a job every day to make enough money to make yourself not miserable, or that he's against people who dress up their dogs, or collect thimbles, or spend all day surreptitiously reading and/or writing Captain America fanfiction (and yes, Gus does need to learn how to use the 'Clear Private Data' feature on Firefox) just to give their monotonous little lives some meaning, because that's over-simplification and grandstanding. It's just not for him.
He lives his life as if every day is his first; seeing everything through new eyes, each movement a whole new adventure, those sounds strange, confusing and intoxicating.
So, he can't be like those other people; those who are too scared to take risks and seem like a fool. He can't spend countless hours worrying about the things he does and says and whether or not they're 'appropriate' or 'within social etiquette'. He doesn't have the time.
9. Psyche Rock - Pierre Henry (I know. Coincidence of brilliance.)
Spencer is like... a whirlwind. Not a particularly original analogy, perhaps, but no less apt for it. He shuffles papers around and causes distress, wrecking perfectly serviceable places and wreaking havoc. If he's not a fully-fledged tornado, he's definitely a dust devil, kicking crap up everywhere so it lands anywhere. He's so infuriating, but Carlton can't look away. He's tried, oh God, how he's tried, to ignore the Spencer-cyclone. But once Spencer's started, there's no stopping him and the best Carlton can think of doing is snarking.
The thing is, he likes him. He doesn't understand how or why; Spencer is deliberately obnoxious. But a little part of him, deep down, finds that almost endearing, as if his masochistic side actually enjoys being the constant butt of Spencer's jokes, like he's secretly always wanted someone to come and show him up as an idiot. He's actually started to look forward to seeing Spencer appear.
It's just that --- he's full of energy; clearly the man sucks down caffeinated drinks at the rate of ten an hour. And he's ridiculously smart in ways that are as mystifying as they are uncomfortable. And whilst he's never going to admit this out loud, Carlton's always wanted a nemesis that he could face off against. He simply wishes he could be a better hero. Or villain. He isn't positive, but he kind of feels like he's the villain of the piece, and if that's not sick, Carlton doesn't know what is.
10. Last Night I Dreamt That Somebody Loved Me - The Smiths
Shawn has never seen Lassiter look so sad before. It's like someone ran over his puppy, revived it using a voodoo curse and ran over it again, just for fun. His eyes are large and vacant, his mouth is resting permanently in the downturned position and he looks --- lonely.
Shawn walks over, confident Lassiter won't want to see him, but just as confident he wants to try and talk. He orders his drink and leans on the bar, angling his body so he's facing Lassiter. "Something tells me you're a tortured soul."
"That would be your psychic ability?"
"Mostly your expression. What's up, Lassie-monster?"
Lassiter doesn't look at him. "My ex-wife is getting remarried."
"Oh. I'm sorry." Shawn frowns. He doesn't know what to say in this situation and he figures everything that's popping into his head is wrong with a capital w. But it's not like you ever had another chance with her is it?; Hey, cheer up, at least she divorced you before marrying again.; You know what, I can make you forget her with one flick of my tongue, I promise.
"Yeah. I could really use a friend right now." Lassiter gives a self-derisive chuckle that about shoots right through Shawn's heart and he pats him on the back, aware that he's probably letting his hand linger too long, but ultimately uncaring.
"I'll be that guy."
Lassiter quirks an eyebrow. "That's strangely kind of you, Spencer."
"I've been told I can be, on occasion. Well, strange, anyway." Shawn sips down his June Bug and fiddles with his watch. "Did you wanna come back to the office and play Wii Sports? I really suck and Jules tells me you're like super sweet at console games."
"You suck at something?"
"I suck at many things."
Lassiter squints and Shawn can tell from the easy way he smiles he's more drunk than suggested by his coherency. "I'm not sure that was meant to sound as dirty as it did."
"It wasn't meant to, but I like that your mind went there."
"Okay," Lassiter says.
"Okay, I'll go play with you. Show me how you suck, Spencer."
Shawn gulps down the rest of his drink and leads the way, ignoring the stretching of his jeans and the pulsing in his veins.