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t3a-tan · 2 days ago

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How would Oliver handle a human child that didn't have bad intentions but was not gentle enough? Let's say the kid just doesn't really understand the terms "gentle" and "fragile" well enough to know how to handle Oliver and somehow he ended up being held by them? He is so good with kids that I wanna see how he handles that

I had a lot of fun with this! Enjoy ^^

Word Count: 4071

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Oliver couldn't stand seeing upset children. Not because they annoyed him, but because sometimes you could tell just by looking at these children that they were being neglected in some way. Part of him was sympathetic— he had seen so many human couples in his travels and research, and it was often the case that the neglect was unintentional.

But still. Oliver couldn't help but intervene in some cases. Below a certain age it was too dangerous to approach a child— infants and young toddlers tend to put things to their lips, because that's how they explore new things; ie. Oliver.

Past that it was still risky, but he could handle the bruises. Children could be a lot more delicate than most think— once they are capable of reasoning and can communicate, it's simply a matter of finding how best to deal with that particular child in order to get what they need; whether that's food, attention, or entertainment.

Today, whilst checking the houses to update any files he had, he noticed a young child— perhaps only 3 or 4— who had been left all alone. No car in the driveway, no one else in the house. Their face was a bit red and eyes a bit watery, as if they had only stopped crying maybe ten or so minutes before he arrived, but they were still hiccuping and gasping every now and then, in distress.

After checking over his file and taking a look at the calendar in the kitchen, it became clear what had happened. Both parents had left to work and forgot to drop their toddler off at nursery— perhaps just because they were tired, or maybe because both thought the other would do it.

The toddler was half dressed too, so maybe they were in a rush; one parent could have gotten the toddler half dressed and then headed off and told the other to deal with it, only for a miscommunication to happen and…the poor babe be left alone.

With that investigation done, Oliver could not just stand by in the walls and watch. He could not rely on one of the parents realising what had happened, and the longer this went on the more likely it would result in trauma for the child. It may already be the case— though he hoped not.

Three or four…that was a pesky age. Some children that age could reason fairly well— some could not.

Oh well… I will just have to try my best.

He could see a few notes on the counter or up on the fridge mentioning a name that was likely the toddler's; Ava. With that in mind, he made his way to the living room, which is where she was currently sitting and staring at the door. He took off his glasses and left them in the walls beforehand, not wanting them to get broken.

Starting high was safer. From there he could gauge her reaction without risking a sudden grab or curious fingers.

“Ava?” He spoke out from on top of a toy box— the top of which was just slightly hard to reach. He stood still, watching as her head swivelled around to look at him, though she didn't move towards him at all, looking at him with a very neutral expression despite the sniffling. Oliver smiled a little, crouching down despite the fact that really he was the shorter one in this situation. It was instinct.

“Hello there…mummy and daddy went to work, didn't they?” He asked. That got a response immediately and she nodded quickly, inhaling some snot from all the crying as she began to speak, on the verge of crying again as if Oliver had just reminded her what she was upset about in the first place.

Most of it was incoherent— but it wasn't babbling, so that meant she was at a normal rate of speech. From what he could make of it, she was mostly repeating ‘mummy’ and ‘daddy’, mentioning a car, using the word ‘gone’, and it was clear that she was telling him exactly what he asked; her mum and dad had gone to work and she got left behind in the rush of things.

Oliver gestured calmly with his hands, showing his palms as he took on a reassuring demeanour.

“Shhh…shhh…it's alright. Mummy and daddy are going to come back.” He assured, reminding himself that children that age are more likely to understand positive language rather than if he said that her parents are not gone. “We're just doing nursery at home today, okay? Does that sound fun?”

She shook her head and wiped at her face, already starting to get upset again, looking around as if her mum and dad might just be behind her.

“N…no…” She hiccuped, voice trembling. “Mummy and…d-daddy…nn— need to…take me…”

Oliver's expression softened, his chest feeling tight at the sight. He tilted his head ever so slightly, debating whether or not he could safely be held by this child or not.

“Ava? Ava, look at me. How old are you, do you know that?” He asked, leaning down a bit. Luckily she did look up at him again, peeking through her fingers and wiping at her snotty red nose with her little hands. She sniffled again, eyes watery, but processing Oliver's question and answering in turn.

“F…four…” She murmured, voice still wobbly through her slightly uneven breathing. It was on the older end of the range Oliver had guessed, which was good, but it was still ultimately a risk.

Oh sod it. If I don't do something now she will get even more agitated and upset. Talking won't hold her attention enough.

He smiled down at her.

“Wow… you're such a big girl! And you know your own age too— very clever.” He gave her a moment to process that before continuing with a question, trying to lead gently into things to avoid making her scared of him. “Did they teach you that in nursery, Ava?”

She nodded slowly, looking up at him with rounded eyes, her lips a little purple from all the crying earlier. Thankfully, despite how she was anxiously fidgeting; rocking back and forth or clenching her shirt in a fist every now and then; it wasn't too difficult to draw her attention away from her missing parents.

“I can…I can…count…all way…to ten!” She responded slowly, wiping her watery eyes again and scooting a bit closer to the toy box Oliver was perched on.

“Can you? Oh, I would just love to hear that. Can you count to ten for me?” He requested. The more at ease she was, the less likely she was to squeeze him to death once he was in her hands. Not to mention the more comfortable she would be with him.

Ava nodded and began to count, looking up and to the side as she thought about it, slowly getting through the numbers, although she repeated some due to her frazzled state. Her voice was still shaking as she took in shuddering breaths every so often, but it wasn't as close to hyperventilating as before.

Oliver clapped his hands together, beaming.

“Bravo, bravo..! Hmm… I'm sure you also have lots of toys at nursery. Is that right?” He asked, getting a nod in return. If he could keep the child entertained until her parents got back, then hopefully this incident wouldn't repeat itself. “And you have lots of toys in this box too, don't you?

She nodded again, bright blue eyes staring up at him with much less wariness than before. She even scooted a big closer, wobbling to her feet and gripping onto the lid of the toy box as she stared at Oliver with some curiosity now.

That's good. Not for my ribs, but good for my mission.

As she leaned on the box it tipped towards her slightly and Oliver just managed to keep his balance. He quickly regained his composure, and walked slowly towards the right until he could simply hop off of the toy box and onto the TV stand right beside it. It was a bit lower down, certainly within reach, but he was pleased to see Ava was only watching him instead of grabbing him immediately.

“Can you show me your favourite toys?” He asked, gesturing encouragingly towards the toy box and sitting down on the edge of the stand, letting his legs dangle off of the edge as he watched, expression bright and warm.

Latching onto the distraction immediately without even understanding that Oliver was trying to distract her, Ava pried open the fabric lid and stuck out her tongue in concentration as she tried to pull out any of her toys. After a few attempts she let out an agitated whine, growing irritated. Oliver was about to intervene when she accidentally knocked the entire box over as she pulled her arms back out.

She stumbled back and fell onto her bum as the box fell, but she was completely unharmed. She momentarily examined her arms with an upset expression, anticipating injury despite their being none. Quickly, Oliver interjected.

“Good thinking! It will be much easier to get them out like this. Clever girl.” He praised, seeing how her eyes locked onto him and a small smile cracked across her expression, arms forgotten about as she quickly focused back on the toys again, getting on her hands and knees, just grabbing whatever was closest and beaming as she showed it off to him.

He chuckled slightly, leaning forward onto his hands as he engaged with her, getting more of a feel and understanding of her personality. Like most four year olds, she soaked up praise and attention like a sponge— but she seemed to roll with things much more smoothly than others her age might have. She was resilient, and self assured; even if Oliver needed to guide her there every now and then.

“Is that your favourite?” He asked, tone full of interest and wonder, as if he was just as excited about the random plastic tractor as she was. She nodded excitedly.

“And— and it's got…it's got um… a farmer. Called…Emma…” She announced happily, quickly dropping the toy onto the carpet as she searched for the farmer. During her search though she got distracted by the other things in there, showing them off only halfway as she piled the various toys around her.

She was playing with and fidgeting with them all individually, monologuing about what she was doing in what was mostly just incoherent babble due to her being unable to pronounce most of the words. That didn't stop her though, and Oliver happily listened, paying attention and engaging every now and then to assure her that all eyes were on her at that moment.

This worked for about twenty minutes until she started getting bored playing all by herself. She looked at Oliver, her red cheeks and purple lips having returned to normal by now since she was no longer crying, the snot having dried to her face. She waddled over to him and Oliver sat up straight, but didn't jolt or make any sudden movements.

She smiled as she snatched him off of the edge of the TV stand, Oliver just barely holding in a yelp as he had seen the hand coming at the last second. He winced, arms held awkwardly to his sides by her grubby fingers and causing his elbows to dig into his ribs a little. Her grip was tight enough to bruise and almost pushed all the breath out of him, but it was just loose enough for him to breathe.

“Ava— can you try to be gentle, please?” He asked, voice coming out a bit strained despite himself. He pulled his grimace into a calm smile, maintaining the same warm reassuring demeanour despite the aching pain in his body.

She paused for a moment, blinking down at him owlishly, not understanding what he meant. Her hesitation didn't last long though as she settled back down by the toys, laying down on her stomach and holding Oliver in front of her innocent eyes, her other hand coming closer to feel his hair curiously, mesmerised.

Oliver held still— squirming would either cause her grip to tighten, which could very easily break his bones, or it might make her afraid of him. He masked a groan of pain by clearing his throat, still smiling as her tiny but surprisingly strong fingers pushed his head to the side slightly.

“You're…as small as Emma..!” She declared excitedly, and Oliver winced when that grip tightened a bit more in turn. Any more and it could quickly become dangerous for him. He recalled the farmer she mentioned before and the size comparison— he wasn't unused to being compared to a doll.

“Oh yes, you're absolutely right! Good girl. I am just the right size for her tractor too, aren't I? Can you put me in the tractor, Ava?” He asked, trying to calmly redirect her and free himself in the process as soon as possible, as it was now difficult to inhale. His ribs creaked in protest, but he fought off the instinct to kick at all.

Perking up at the suggestion she immediately nodded, sitting up on her forearms as she looked for the tractor and finding it quickly. Once she had she shuffled around to face it, resting her cheek on the ground and smiling as she lowered Oliver into the seat of the plastic tractor.

Oliver released some of the tension that had been growing in his shoulders, inhaling some much needed air as he sat back on the slightly too large plastic seat. Just as he was in the middle of recovering though his hands instinctively clutched the fake pink wheel in front of him as the tractor; and he along with it; was suddenly lifted into the air.

It was very disorienting to fly through the air like he was as Ava delightedly made chugging sounds and waved the tractor around to pretend it was driving, but it was preferred to the death grip she had held him in before. After a couple of minutes of holding on for dear life and just trying to pretend he was on the back of his bird steed instead, the tractor finally stopped moving around as he was instead held up close to her eyes.

Oliver was a bit shaky from the sequence of events so far, but he still managed to smile up at the giant toddler.

I'm not sure how many hours I'll be able to handle this. I need to try to explain how fragile I am to her…

Before he could even attempt that though, Ava was already speaking.

“I'll be the… the mummy and you can be the baby..!” She announced, and it was not so much a question as it was a role that, to her, Oliver was already accepting. That became clear when she began to babble about the setting and other stuff, but Oliver was more focused on the hand approaching him.

“Ava, listen to me.” He spoke with a slightly firmer tone than before, due to how dangerous this could get without intervention. She recognized that, her smile dropping and hand falling back immediately, eyes completely focused on him. He suspected he had very little time before she would lose that focus and grab him again anyway, but he sighed in relief that she had stopped.

Looking up at her, Oliver could tell plainly that his seriousness was putting her on edge. So, he shifted his time to be more light-hearted again as he smiled.

“I have a game for us to play. But you have to listen really closely to the rules, okay? Are you going to be a good girl and listen?” He asked.

His return to being more playful made her relax again, and she nodded eagerly at the sound of a game idea. Oliver was relieved. Some children were determined to get their own way, and would simply ignore the idea of another game for the sake of playing what they wanted to.

“I'm a good girl…a-already..!” She pointed out, a bit tongue-tied as most toddlers were. Oliver let out a small chuckle. It was easy to forget how dangerous young children could be when staring up into their innocent gazes.

“You're absolutely right. But, I still want you to listen, okay?” He emphasised, wanting to keep her on track. He cleared his throat. “Do you know about…Goldilocks and the three bears?”

She perked up and nodded, putting the tractor down in favour of leaning on her forearms and looking at Oliver that way. Taking advantage of the solid ground, he climbed out of the driver's seat and stood on legs that felt a bit like jelly from all the jostling that had been done to him earlier. She thankfully did not seem to have a problem with it, instead only taking the opportunity to reach ahead and give Oliver a small poke.

He stumbled ever so slightly, but got his balance back immediately and showed no reaction to the poke to avoid sparking any interest in that interaction. Not until he was sure she understood she needed to be gentle, and he could already tell she was getting distracted.

“In this game, you get to be Goldilocks!” He announced, adding a bit of theatrical flare to his words to make the idea sound as exciting as possible. It seemed to work as he saw her shift with excitement, eyes gleaming with joy. “Do you want to guess what I'll be?”

Ava ummed and ahhed about it for a few moments before looking down at him with a bright expression.

“Bear!” She guessed. That was exactly the answer Oliver was expecting and it made sense for a child of her age to guess that.

“That's a great guess! You were close too. Both things start with a ‘buh’ sound after all.” He praised, emphasising the phonics with enthusiasm. “I'm going to be…a bed.”

The toddler giggled, rolling on the floor restlessly as she took in Oliver's words. She looked at him, now laying on her back and seeing him upside down, thoroughly entertained by the sight and thought. As Oliver wanted, she was hooked.

“You— can't be a…a bed..! Beds are for sleeping..!” She pointed out, finding the absurdity extremely amusing, and intrigued by Oliver's game. He was quick to play into her playful manner, taking on a more humorous tone.

“Ah, you're right! Beds are for sleeping…it would be a bit silly for you to sleep on me, wouldn't it?” He pointed out, eliciting a squeal of laughter. Ava rolled back onto her front, gaze still focused on him, and hands thankfully clutching the front of her shirt instead of him. Oliver smiled, and continued.

“No, of course not… But, just like Goldilocks found a bed that was just right, I want you to do the same thing. And when I tell you it's just right, you win! If you win 10 whole times, you get a prize. Does that sound fun?”

Really it was a very convoluted way of explaining things, but Ava seemed to engage best with praise and play, so Oliver was trying to incorporate that as much as possible to keep her happy.

Ava nodded again, so Oliver explained the rules more clearly.

“First, you're going to pick me up. If you hold me too tight I'll say ‘too hard’. If you hold me not tight enough I'll say ‘too soft’. But if you hold me gently, I will say ‘just right’. When I say ‘just right', put me back down and we'll play again. Ready?”

Without waiting for him to say go, she was already reaching forwards and picking him up, her fingers quickly squeezing onto him in the same painful grip as before. Oliver expected that for a start, and strained to speak, hopeful that this method would work.

“Too hard…” He tried to keep a light tone despite the fact that all of the air was being pushed from his lungs by those deceptively small fingers. Realising that winning wasn't as easy as she first thought, Ava concentrated; tongue sticking out again as she opened her fingers a bit. The grip was much too loose, and Oliver dropped a little because of it, having to cling onto her fingers to keep from falling.

“Too soft..!” He spoke through his big inhale of needed air, relieved at the lack of broken bones despite knowing that this would involve a few rounds of trial and error before she would consistently know the right level of pressure. The fingers closed in again, just on the edge of being too tight. But, as it was close enough, and to avoid making her lose interest too quickly, he counted it.

“Just right! Very good job, Ava. That's 1 win!” He praised. “Aren't you clever?”

The process repeated again and again, and to keep Ava's engagement with the game Oliver offered up rewards in between rounds— like a finger five (which she liked a lot) and invisible stickers. By the seventh round she had learned that ‘just right’ was closer to ‘too soft’ than ‘too hard’, and so Oliver wasn't worrying about having his ribs broken each round anymore.

They reached round 10 very quickly, and she got ‘just right’ immediately, much to her delight and pride.

“That was incredible, Ava! I'm impressed that you got the hang of that so quickly.” He smiled genuinely. Although the bruises from earlier were bad and would take a while to heal, at least he could rest assured that he had a method to help prevent further bruising. “Your prize is… I'll play any game you want.”

Already he could feel the fingers begin to tighten again as her focus turned away from her grip and to thinking of a new game.

“But!” Oliver quickly interjected, stopping her in her tracks. “I'm still going to tell you if it's just right or not when you hold me, okay? Just to test if you're paying attention.”

It was all continuing to go relatively well, and Oliver was perfectly content playing along with the child's imaginative play provided his bones stayed intact. Whenever Oliver felt her grip getting too tight or too loose he made sure to correct her and heaped her with lots of praise once she got it right.

Ava had completely forgotten about her parents being gone, just enjoying playing games with Oliver.

Faintly, he heard the sound of a car pulling up beside the house, and although he wasn't sure if it was one of her parents or not, it was soon confirmed by the sound of the front door unlocking. Ava also paused when she heard the door, sitting up a bit and turning around, her fingers held in her mouth as she stared.

A woman burst into the living room, letting the door swing open and not bothering to close it as she spotted Ava on the floor. As soon as the toddler saw her mother, her grip on Oliver completely released as she began crying again, immediately returning to the same distress as before now that she remembered what had happened. Her little hands instinctively reached towards the woman, making grabbing motions.

Oliver landed on the carpet with a small ‘oof’, before backpedalling into the shadows under the TV stand, watching as the mother rushed over and scooped up the crying toddler, apologising profusely and smothering her in affection to try to get her to calm down.

He smiled slightly at the sight, relieved that Ava was now in her caretakers hands again. His body was equally relieved, and he winced as a pang of pain shot out from the various bruises he had acquired whilst entertaining the curious toddler.

He didn't stick around for too long after, once he was sure that Ava was going to be well taken care of. He managed to find the entrance he had come out from in the first place, retrieving his glasses and placing them on his face. His finger pushed at the bridge to put it in the right place again as he slung his pack over his shoulder and walked outside to whistle for Gale.

I'll have to cut this trip short…but the bruises were well worth it.

#morning reblog

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t3a-tan · 2 days ago

Text

Revelations

Progress is being made!!!

First: A Not So Average Night

Previous: Witness To A Crime

Next: Coming soon!

————-

Neither Shawn or Gus could describe how exciting it was to finally hear that tiny voice. It was like finding a room full of chocolate just for them to enjoy. Their hard work over the past hour getting the little guy to trust them has finally paid off. The three might even become friends after this.

"I'll tell you what'cha wanna know as long as you don't hurt my people." The tiny voice wavered as he spoke barely above a whisper. He had an interesting accent, although neither human could place it.

Shawn was shaking with excitement at the mention of even more tiny people running around. There must be a whole secret society! On the other hand, Gus was not as thrilled when he realized there could have been little eyes watching his every movement for who knows how long. Although a smile still played at his lips by the simple fact the little guy was getting more comfortable with them.

However, their smiles slowly faded as the words finally registered in their brains. How scared the little guy sounded. It was one of the last things the two men expected after all the progress they had made. What did they do to get that sort of response? Why is he still scared?

Shawn chuckled nervously, "What are you talking about?"

Gus' expression-filled eyes were full of concern, "Yeah, why do you think we'll hurt your people?"

Tucker dropped the chip on the desk, all but forgotten as he stared at his giant tormentors. His gaze hardened behind his tears. "You've been trying to manipulate me into telling you everything this entire time!" He snapped, the overwhelming mix of fear, anger, frustration, and sadness boiling over the edge.

He took a step forward, "And the psychic has been reading my mind 'cause I refuse to comply!" Tucker pointed an accusatory finger at Shawn, who stared at the minuscule finger with wide eyes.

The human's mouth gaped open for a moment, speechless. Shawn was prepared for a lot of things in life thanks to his overbearing dad, but getting yelled at by a man smaller than a finger was not one of them. He glanced toward his friend for any sort of advice, but Gus only gave him an equally shocked expression in return.

Shawn held up his hands, "Uh-listen, I swear I don't read minds. I'm not one of those types of psychics."

Tucker crossed his arms and quirked a brow. "Really? Then how'd ya know where I was hiding and when I was hungry and that I'm from the walls?" He challenged. His fear of being punished by humans was long gone.

"The spir-" Shawn began before getting hit in the shoulder. "Ow!" He glared at Gus as he rubbed his shoulder, "What was that for?"

"You are not giving him the whole 'psychic revelation'." Gus stated with no room to argue.

Of course, Shawn still tried to argue. "But I am a psychic. The spirits tell me everything from the beyond." He gave Gus a look, begging him to go along with him.

His friend ignored him and turned back to Tucker who tensed up again. "He's not psychic. Shawn's a fraud." Gus said blatantly.

"Gus!"

"There's no point in lying to a four-inch tall man, Shawn!" Gus crossed his arms, "Who's he gonna tell? The Chief? Lassiter? Juliet? It's just scaring him even more!"

Tucker shifted uneasily as he watched Shawn facepalm with a frustrated sigh. When the humans said nothing else, he chose to pipe up. "What do you mean?" He asked Gus.

"He pretends he's a psychic that talks to spirits to solve murders. He's just good at noticing the little things and remembering them." He answered knowingly with a shrug. Gus glanced over at Shawn leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, attempting to block out his friend exposing his well-crafted lie.

Admittedly, Tucker still didn't understand. How in the world could Shawn figure out all that information if he didn't read minds? That's impossible. But there's no reason for Gus to lie about something like this.

He licked his dry lips, "Then how did he know all that stuff? Was it just luck?" Tucker tentatively asked.

As much as Gus wanted to answer, he had no idea how Shawn did it. Even after doing this whole Psych agency thing for months, and being friends with Shawn since they were babies, his friend's uncanny skill set still surprised him sometimes.

When Shawn didn't say a word, he lightly nudged him in the side. "Shawn. He asked a question." He said quietly.

Shawn solemnly nodded. "Back at the house, I noticed grease stains from the chips on the table that looked a lot like footprints. There were multiple trails leading to the bag and I figured something was in there. I was expecting a mouse though, not you." He explained simply.

He sighed and looked to the side as he continued, "there's specks of sawdust on your clothes, only way you can get that is from inside the walls. It makes sense as a safe place for you to live. And I guessed you were hungry 'cause you were hiding in a bag of food earlier." Shawn looked up at Tucker, appearing dejected, "Happy now?"

Tucker nervously glanced down at his boots, "Y-yeah. Sorry." He murmured sheepishly. He fidgeted with his sleeve as he started to shuffle away from the humans again. All of his foolish confidence was gone, replaced by a sinking feeling in his gut that he just made things far worse for himself.

Tucker wanted to slap himself across the face and scream. How could he interpret a situation so damn badly! Mind reading? Seriously?

"Hey, don't feel too bad." Tucker glanced at the human as Shawn spoke, startled how the human seemed to read his mind again. "Everybody falls for it, I'm just too good." A confident smirk played at his lips, and he gave the small man a knowing look.

"But now that all my secrets are out, I think you owe us your name." Shawn stated lightheartedly, quirking a brow.

Tucker blinked at that. It made sense, but he still didn't want to say his name. It felt wrong telling a human that information. But he's already been caught by them, spoke to them, and told them more of his kind existed. Yeah.... He's long past following the borrower code now.

Taking a steadying breath, he met the four giant eyes of the humans. "My name’s Tucker." He cringed as his voice cracked slightly. After living on his own for three years, he wasn't used to using his voice anymore. That and the added pressure of talking to two freaking humans.

"Tucker," Shawn repeated, seemingly testing the name out, "Sounds badass."

Gus nodded beside him, "Like a gangster." He added with a smirk. "Nice to finally meet you Tucker."

The borrower only managed to nod along. He was not expecting this turn of events whatsoever. Tucker honestly thought he would be dead or left in a cage by now. He awkwardly glanced back at the chip he abandoned and decided to finally satisfy his hunger.

He sat down with the chip on his lap and continued taking bites out of the salty food. Meanwhile, Shawn and Gus shuffled closer to the desk on their knees.

"Soooo Tucker," Shawn began nonchalantly, "What exactly are you?" He couldn't hide his eagerness as the question left his mouth. His wallet depended on this answer thanks to his earlier bet with Gus, although Gus would have to pay for lunch either way since Shawn had no money. Still, he wanted to be right. He crossed his fingers under the desk, please be a leprechaun, he thought to himself.

A shiver went down his spine, but Tucker did his best to hide it. He purposely took a long time chewing his food before responding. "Don't ya wanna know about the murder?" He asked, changing the subject. Even though these humans were better than he thought, he still didn't trust them enough to reveal his people's name.

Shawn's face dropped, "Oh... right. The case."

"I forgot about that." Gus admitted quietly. He was as eager as Shawn to figure out who won the bet. "You're not a leprechaun though, right?" He couldn't help but ask.

Tucker shook his head. He didn't even know what a leprechaun is.

"Ha! I told you!" Gus pumped his fist in celebration.

Shawn scoffed, "You haven't won. We don't know if he's a wingless fairy or whatever ridiculous thing you can up with."

At that, both humans looked expectantly at Tucker again. His shoulders bunched up as his eyes danced between the two. Slowly, he shook his head side to side.

Gus shrugged, pretending not to care. "It doesn't matter, you would have made me pay for lunch either way." He pointed out.

"I actually would have paid this time." Shawn corrected him.

"Sure you would."

A loud phone chime stopped Shawn from retorting. He dug through his back pocket before taking out his phone and checking the screen. His brows rose, "It's Jules."

With one last glance towards the borrower on the desk, he tapped the green button. "City morgue, you stab'em we slab'em." He quipped.

"Not now Shawn." She said curtly. "Carlton mentioned you were at the Blum residence this morning, right?”

“Looks like Lassie has his facts straight for once.” Shawn said sounding proud. He heard a loud sigh on the other end.

“I don’t know about that.” Juliet’s voice was now quiet and unsure, very different from her usual confidence.

“What do you mean?”

There was a beat of hesitation before she continued. “Carlton seems so sure it’s the husband and is trying to get answers from him as we speak. I just- I really don’t think it’s Steven.” Juliet admitted.

Shawn exchanged a quick glance with Gus who was leaning in to listen to the call. Tucker was also paying attention, but he seemed more interested in the phone itself rather than the conversation. It took everything in Shawn not to coo at the little guy. He was just so cute with his tiny eyes peeking curiously up at him like a tiny little kitten and- Shawn took a deep breath and forced himself to focus on the phone.

“Are you asking me what I think you’re asking?” He teased with a growing smile.

“I just want to know what you think.”

“Well pat yourself on the back Jules ‘cause im getting signals from the beyond it’s not Steven.”

“Who is it?” She eagerly pressed. Shawn figured she was already prepped to run out the precinct and arrest the real killer in record time. He loved watching her take the bad guys down. She somehow always looked so beautiful doing it. Unfortunately, he would have to see her arrest later.

“The spirits haven’t told me yet. They’re a lot shyer today.” He said sadly. “I’ll tell you right when I find out.” Shawn promised.

“Thanks Shawn.” Juliet said quickly before hanging up the phone.

Tucker felt a sense of unease as he listened to Shawn lie about talking to spirits. The human admitted he was a fraud, yet he didn’t show any signs of a liar like every other human. Not even a quiver in his voice or his eyes twitching left. Maybe it was because he was speaking to a box instead of a person. Either way, Tucker figured it was best not to anger the human if Shawn was capable of hiding his lies.

When the human pocketed the little box again, Tucker adverted his gaze back to the chip in his lap.

"What did the killer look like?" Shawn asked. Even though there were still so many questions whirling around his head about Tucker, he knew he had a job to do. A poor innocent man was being interrogated by Lassie and Shawn wouldn’t wish that fate on anyone. Well a few people did come to mind, but that was beside the point.

Tucker placed the rest of his chip to the side and brushed the salt and grease from his hands. He was about to answer, until he realized he was at the advantage for once. "I'd love to help, but my stuff is still over there." He pointed to the far end of the desk where his supplies lay.

Both humans glanced at his things, then at each other, then back at Tucker. Gus' eyes narrowed, "You're not gonna leave once you get your things back, right?"

Tucker adamantly shook his head.

They couldn't exactly keep the items from him since they did belong to Tucker. So, Shawn reached over and scooped the tiny objects into his palm. "Promise not to stab me again?" He asked warily before handing the items, most notably the nail, over.

Tucker stood and took a few steps back as the giant hand neared. He smirked up at Shawn, "As long as ya don't manhandle me again." There was still a hint of nervousness in his voice as the hand stopped right in front of him.

"Touché," Shawn replied as he slowly tilted his hand so the tiny objects could slide off.

The borrower immediately began inspecting his possessions. The fish line on his hook was tangled but that was an easy fix. Tucker grimaced as he noticed his silver nail still had some blood on the tip that has long since dried. He'll have to figure out how to make it shine again later. He dragged his leather satchel over to himself and undid the clip. The contents inside were strewn about but undamaged.

"I couldn't really see the killer's face inside the bag," Tucker began as he started to reorganize his satchel, "But his voice was too deep to be the resident male's- uh Steven's." He corrected.

Shadows covered him as the humans leaned in closer to hear his small voice. Tucker kept his eyes down as he distractedly untangled his climbing rope. "Kirstin was really surprised and scared. But I think she recognized him."

"Really? How so?" Gus asked.

"She called him 'J.'" He started to reveal. Suddenly, his hands stopped untangling the string. Flashes of the woman's giant, bloody face appeared in his mind. Her pained features and the desperation in her watery eyes as crimson blood pooled around her head. The way she stared at Tucker when she realized her final moments were approaching.

A lump formed in his throat. Tucker knew all too well what that fear and helplessness felt like. How suffocating it is. Like your drowning and the only way to go is deeper into the dark depths as weights dragged you down. And only the actions of others will decide your fate. Tucker got lucky, but the same couldn't be said for Kirstin.

"Earth to Tucker." A voice rumbled above.

He snapped out of his haunting memory of the murder only hours before. Tucker glanced up just in time to see a pale hand approaching him with a borrower-sized finger outstretched. Surprised, he fell onto his rear and scrambled back. "Stop, stop!" He frantically demanded, holding out his weapon.

The hand flinched away and quickly disappeared back under the desk. "Relax, I'm not some giant monster. I was just gonna poke you." Shawn said.

With a huff, Tucker rose back onto his trembling legs and glared at the human. "Ya touch me, ya get stabbed. Got it?" He stated, holding up the still bloody nail.

"No touching, I get it." Shawn swore. "Were you having a vision? Are you a mini psychic!" His face lit up at the mere thought of having a tiny spirit whisperer as a sidekick.

Gus rolled his eyes beside him.

Tucker slung his satchel over his shoulder and put his nail through the small hoop on the bag. Slightly embarrassed, he began coiling up his climbing rope. "No, sorry. I just-," he chuckled dryly, "Guess that human's death got to me more than I thought."

He glanced down at the desk under him as he thought it over. Death has never bothered him before today. It wasn’t uncommon to hear a borrower dying from illness or a rat or getting crushed. Out of eleven kids, Tucker and two other siblings were the only ones who lived to be adults.

Sure it was sad, but they would simply hold a funeral and move on. So why was this death, a human’s death, bothering him so much?

"That's nothing to be ashamed of, Tucker." Gus reassured him, unknowingly knocking him out of his thoughts.

"Yeah, Gus still gets queasy around bodies and we've been working on murder cases for months."

"That's a normal reaction, Shawn. Not everyone is a psychopath like you."

Shawn laughed, completely unbothered. "I see what you did there! Psych-opath." He lightly patted his friend's shoulder.

Annoyed, Gus quickly shrugged him off. With one last glare directed at Shawn, he turned his attention back to Tucker. "Ignore him. You said Kirstin called the killer 'J,' correct?"

Tucker frowned as he remembered the victim's last word, meant just for him to hear in her final moments. "Yeah, then she said 'Josh' right before she died." His eyes danced between the humans. "Ya think that's the killer's name?"

Both men smiled. "Definitely sounds that way." Gus confirmed.

Tucker perked up at that. "I did what'cha asked. This mean I can go home now?"

"Of course!" Shawn assured him with an easy smile. "Hop on the Shawn Express and let's get rolling." He lowered his hand until it rested palm up in front of the borrower.

Tucker back up even further, not taking his eyes off the hand. His heartbeat quickened as the phantom feeling of those same fingers curling around him came back. It took everything in him not to pull out his weapon.

When it was clear Tucker was not hopping on his hand, Shawn curled his fingers to motion for the little guy to come closer. “The Blum house isn’t walking distance from here, especially for someone as vertically challenged as you.” He pointed out.

Tucker scowled up at him, “I-I know!” He stubbornly responded. He cautiously took a few steps closer before freezing up again. He just couldn’t do it. Willingly putting himself in a human’s hand went against every single survival instinct.

Gus frowned at his nervousness. “I know it doesn’t seem like it, but Shawn can be careful when he needs to. You can trust him.” He promised.

He glanced up at Gus who gave him a reassuring nod, clearly telling the truth. Tucker took a few more moments to steel his nerves before closing the distance between him and the giant hand. He immediately climbed on the leathery skin before he could second guess himself, settling in the center of the palm. Tucker closed his eyes and tried to ignore the heat rising from the skin and the thumping of a pulse.

��Here we go,” Shawn warned quietly. He slowly rose his hand up to his chest and immediately placed his other hand underneath to add more protection for Tucker. “It’s just like when I carried that little spider when we were kids.” Shawn said with a smile, trying to hide how nervous he was carrying an entire human being.

Gus’ eyes were locked onto Tucker, ready to catch him again if something went wrong. He couldn’t believe this was happening. Never in a million years did he think he would watch his best friend hold a tiny little person in the palm of his hand.

His eyes never strayed from the small man, even at Shawn’s comment that brought back terrifying memories. “You mean that big spider you chased me around the house with for ten minutes straight?” His tone was full of annoyance.

“It was harmless.” Shawn responded as he began carefully walking towards the door. Tucker’s eyes were still shut tight, and Shawn thought he could even feel the minuscule fingers digging into his skin.

Gus sped past Shawn and to the door that led to the outside. “I’m pretty sure that was a brown recluse. You coulda killed me.” He cracked the door open and scanned the outdoors for anyone that could spot Tucker. Thankfully, no one seemed to be up in the very early hours of the morning and he quickly beelined to his blue car.

Shawn was close behind. His hands were protectively cupped to his chest as he too scanned his surroundings for people. “That definitely wasn’t a brown recluse, you’re making things up.” He defended himself.

Gus opened the passenger side door for him and he climbed inside. Gus quickly sat in the drivers seat and turned the key in the ignition.

Tucker flinched at the sound of the engine rumbling to life. He squirmed in the stuffy confines of the hands cupped over him, pushing against the fabric of the chest in front of him. After what felt like forever, the hands shifted around him and he found himself on his back looking up at two green eyes.

He quickly sat up and fixed his black poncho. “Are ya gonna put me down?” He asked nervously, glancing around the inside of the car.

Gus was the one who answered, “Absolutely not.” He turned in his seat and began backing out of the parking spot, making Tucker brace himself at the sudden movement. “There’s no safe places for you to sit in here and the last thing I want on my conscience is you getting hurt while I’m driving.” He stated without any room to argue.

Tucker nearly forgot how to breathe. How was he supposed to sit with a damn human the whole time!

Psychic or not, Shawn seemed to read his mind. “Relax, we’ll be back at your place before you know it.” He said with an easy smile.

Tucker forced himself to nod in response, hating every second of this morning. He couldn’t wait to get back in the walls and away from the humans.

#love itt

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