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MacGyver FanFiction

Judas In My Mind

Author: PineappleHead
Summary: MacGyver/Psych crossover. Murdoc is looking for a new recruit for HIT. Shawn Spencer has all the necessary skills. Neither of them could foresee that their crossed paths would result in the two of them meeting in a graveyard... Although, in hindsight, maybe they knew it would end that way all along.
Feedback: Yes, please to faberfire451(AT)
Disclaimer: I do not own Psych or MacGyver, nor do I own any of the characters, settings, trademarks, or related material. Psych, MacGyver, and all related materials are the property of their respective owners. The plot and original characters of this story are my intellectual property. I am not associated with Psych, its creators, or any involved parties, nor am I associated with any other media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Additional Comments/Info: Although the story is primarily centered around Murdoc and Shawn Spencer, MacGyver does make a few appearances. Penny Parker is mentioned very frequently, but she only appears in one chapter. I worked very hard to keep the story balanced so that both MacGyver fans and Psych-Os would enjoy the story, even if you haven't seen both shows. Any and all feedback, discussions, and/or questions are welcome!


December 2010

Shawn stared up at the face of Mr. Yin, watching the shadows around the man's eyes. He'd seen that face before, he realized suddenly---only once, from across a crowded room. But he'd seen that face before. A sense of clarity crystallized in his mind. He had never quite understood Yang's motives---but he might, now, understand Yin's. Defiantly, he stared into his captor's deep-set eyes. "Why did you pick me in the first place?"

Shawn suspected that he knew the answer, but Yin's reply was evasive: "Because you were pretty good. You were interesting. You had a black sidekick, and that felt fun."

That was the kind of answer that Shawn himself might have given if he were in Yin's place, but he wasn't going to buy any of it. "No, it was more than that. You've been obsessed with me since I was a kid." Ever since I graduated high school, probably...

Yin's face was contorted into a look somewhere between disappointment and disgust. "No, Yang. Yang was obsessed with you, Shawn. Yang. I didn't even know who the hell you were until you started doing this shtick. Yang took notice of the pre-pubescent you, and developed an unhealthy crush. Feelings are the enemy of efficiency, Shawn. She betrayed me to save your mother, and that threw a serious wrench into the cogs of my career plans. She broke my trust, and she broke my heart, and for that, I blame you, and now it's time to die. Satisfied?"

"Absolutely not," Shawn answered stubbornly. "No, I'm not satisfied. You're leaving out a big part of the truth, aren't you? Yang may have taken notice of me when I was really young, but you've seen me before too, so don't use her as a smokescreen." Shawn's eyes narrowed in anger, all the previous jocularity of his stalling mode gone. "You may not have known my name before I got involved with the police as a psychic, but you have seen me before and you can't deny it. You know exactly who I am and I know exactly who you are."

Yin smoldered with a rage that he didn't bother to conceal. "You're right. I do know who you are. And you know what? Right now, you should be thanking me. I've been in this game long enough to have learned that the kind of death I've got planned for you---even the death I've got planned for your friend here---why, it'll seem like a mercy killing compared to what you'll get in the end. I can promise you that."

"I don't believe you and I never will," Shawn hissed. In his peripheral so, he could sense Gus frozen in his seat, tense and terrified and confused. A spasm of guilt rippled through his nerves. Gus truly was innocent in all of this. Shawn hadn't been kidding when he'd said that he wanted to die first; couldn't bear to watch someone he loved die right before his helpless eyes.

Yin's lips stretched in a tight smirk. "Good, because you won't have to. You're not going to be leaving this room after tonight---except in a body bag."

Just then, Yang shuffled into the room, taking all three men by surprise. "Hi, Daddy..."


Despite shrugging off the trauma with some "yeah, yeah, yeahs" (and despite the gentle restorative powers of the sweetest moment of his life with Juliet O'Hara in the interrogation room later that night), the memories of Yin continued to haunt Shawn's nightmares for years afterwards.

What truly terrified Shawn more than anything were Yin's last words, just a gurgle, a quiet strangled sound, barely heard over the voices of Yang and the police: You're not so different from're next.



For the first time in his life, Shawn Spencer was staring at iron bars.
Okay, well, maybe not iron; they could easily have been steel, or maybe nickel or titanium, or some kind of cool alloy. Or, knowing the SBPD and Henry's complaints about budget cuts, they were probably made out of whatever substance was the cheapest.

But the chemical makeup of the bars didn't matter to eighteen-year-old Shawn.

What mattered was that they were the bars of a jail cell, the holding area of the police station, right next to the drunk tank and some nameless faceless guard's desk---Mr. Beanpole, or something else stupid that his dad had called the poor guy during his tirade of self-righteousness.

What mattered was that those jail cell bars were here to enclose Shawn, to lock him in, to rob away his freedom and his basic human dignity.

Because Shawn had been arrested.
Because Shawn had been arrested for stealing a car.
Because Shawn had been arrested for stealing a car to impress a girl.
Because Shawn had been arrested for stealing a car to impress a girl---by his own father.

"Gee, thanks, Dad," Shawn scoffed bitterly. "I don't care that I'll never be able to be a cop now, but going to college might have been nice." In spite of himself, he started to feel his eyes welling up. He blinked rapidly, flustered, trying to squelch the feeling away.

Shawn had known for a long time now that his relationship with his dad would never be the same as it used to be, would always be strained, always be tense. But never had he expected that his own father would do this to him.

Grand theft auto? He was going to bring the car back! He borrowed it, just for the night! The owner wasn't even going to use it. What kind of father could do this to his own son? And just days after his high school graduation?

Shawn's hands pounded into his eyes as if he could push back the sticky heat encircling the rims of his eyelids and burning into the corners, and he was swallowing hard to stop the hiccuping convulsions of his throat. There was no way he was going to cry. Not here, not now, not ever. He was a man, an adult, as Henry had pointed out, and he wasn't going to give anyone the satisfaction.

He sensed the shadow, felt rather than saw it, when the shadow fell over his form huddled in the little iron cage. He uncovered his face and looked up.

The shadow's owner wasn't the nameless faceless guard. Instead, it was a man in a black leather jacket, around 5'8" with a slightly-outdated/slightly-timeless Euromullet, a dull silver death's-head ring on his finger. "What are you in for?" the man asked.

British. Very English.

Shawn was confused. "I borrowed a car to impress a girl. Who are you?"
"That's not too important at the moment, Shawn. May I call you Shawn?"
Shawn shrugged. "Sure."
The man smiled, but his face looked cold. "You have a very impressive record, you know. Top of your class---could've been valedictorian, if you'd tried. You possess a remarkable set of skills for someone so young, and it shows. You should be proud."
"Try telling that to my father," Shawn spat.
"Perhaps I will," the man mused. "Or perhaps we could do it together."
Shawn scoffed. "Yeah, right. You'd have to get me out of these bars first."
"My dear boy, that's exactly what I plan to do." The man's smile never wavered.

Shawn eyed him. "Did my dad put you up to this? Is he trying to get something out of me?"
"Absolutely not. I've never met your father and I have no desire to. Quite frankly, he seems rather boring, don't you think?"
"Yeah, I do, actually." Shawn laughed mirthlessly for almost a full second. "So how do you plan on getting me out, and what's the catch? Do you want me to confess or something?"

"No, nothing like that," said the man. "I've got much bigger plans in mind. I want you to come work with me."
"Work for you? Doing what?"
"I said work with me, not for me. My agency has requested ever so politely that I find a new recruit...and you're the perfect young man for the job. We can discuss the particulars of it later, but trust me, the skillset required would be right up your alley. With a bit of polishing up and some on-the-job training, you could end up becoming the very brightest star that my employing organization has ever seen."

Shawn thought about the man's offer for a long moment. "Would it get me away from my dad?"
"Of course," the man replied. "You'll be travelling all over the world, seeing and doing and experiencing things that most people could only ever dream of."
Shawn nodded and stuck his hand through the bars. "I'm in."
As the man's black-gloved hand shook his, Shawn said, "Would you mind telling me your name, so I can call you something other than 'Mysterious Shadowy Figure?'"

"Why, certainly," replied the man with a self-satisfied smirk. "You may call me Murdoc."


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