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❛ ᴏᴄᴇᴀɴ ᴇʏᴇꜱ​​​​​​​​​​. ❜ ° . ༄
- ͙۪۪˚   ▎❛ 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘-𝐓𝐖𝐎 ❜   ▎˚ ͙۪۪̥◌
»»————- ꒰ ʟᴇᴀʀɴɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ғʟʏ ꒱




꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷ ╴𝐓𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐎𝐑 𝐊𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐘!
〆₊ ✦ 𓄳 她 𓈒 𒀭࣪⋆ ֗ ִ ᨒ .ﾟ𓄳✦ ₊ 〆
﹙𝚁𝙾𝙱𝙴𝚁𝚃 𝚂𝙷𝙴𝙴𝙷𝙰𝙽﹚▬▬ 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙪𝙣𝙘𝙡𝙚-𝙪𝙣𝙘𝙡𝙚

❝You know I hate to
disagree with you, love.❞
▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅

Juliet sat next to Shawn in their booth at Chubbie's with a serving of fries between them. They were currently enjoying the first few days of official summer vacation and "celebrating" the start of reconstruction on Rainbow Falls. The residents had been moved out successfully and without much pushback, suitably accommodated for the inconvenience. The red-haired girl would be moving upstate to live with her father until school started again where she would then be staying with the Matthews (who were happy to have someone besides Shawn stay with them.)

She was currently trying to broach the subject of her father's summer party which would be held in mid-June. She'd already talked to Topanga about it and the blonde had determined that it would have the necessary "air of romance" as she'd put it. Juliet wasn't as convinced (how could her father's home be romantic?), but her friend was insistent and had persuaded Cory not to join them. The curly-haired boy had been surprisingly disappointed but was placated by Juliet's promise of eventually meeting her father— and he knew she always followed through.

"So, are you looking forward to spending time with your father?" Shawn asked, giving her the perfect lead in.

"Yeah, actually. It's less awkward every time I've seen him and I'm getting used to calling him dad. It's still weird, though," she admitted.

"I can imagine," he agreed. "Am I ever going to meet this 'dad?'"

"You don't need to put air quotes around dad, Shawnie," Juliet said, rolling her eyes. "He really exists. And yes, you will."

"How can I know if he really exists if I've never met him?"

"Well, how would you feel about coming with me to his summer party in a few weeks?" the redhead forced out the question, not wanting her speech to devolve into stuttering as it tended to when she overthought things.

"Sure, when is it? You know I'm always up for a good party." He gave her a cheeky smile. He was rewarded with an amused chuckle as Juliet reached for the fries. 

"Mid-June," she replied. "My mom can drive us up there. We're planning on leaving the day before since it's a long drive, then we'll stay overnight somewhere and arrive the day of. She can drive you home after."

"Sounds good."

🌎🌎🌎

Mid-June arrived faster than Juliet thought possible. She and her mom had been staying at a nearby hotel until they were ready to make the move up north. Daly would still return to Philadelphia after the party, though, as she still had work at her new job. The drive to their overnight stop went seamlessly and they were now upon the day of the party.

Juliet was both excited and nervous; she hoped that everything would go according to plan. She was pretty sure her dad and Uncle Sam would like Shawn, but Greg didn't like anybody and would probably insult her best friend instead of greeting him properly. That was the part she worried about most: she'd warned Shawn ahead of time that that particular uncle was an ass and he'd seemed unconcerned, but that had only served to make her more anxious. Because of this, she'd chosen the second outfit choice she'd brought with her: her navy pantsuit.

It would be her first chance to wear it since she'd gotten it and the dark blue went surprisingly well with her red hair (a notoriously hard color to match with.) The jacket collar and pocket were trimmed with gold braid and a light blue collared shirt was worn underneath it. With the type of people her father spent time with (and after her excursions with Jack) she knew what kind of fashion was expected at events like these— and she was quite looking forward to seeing Shawn dressed up. (Even though he hated it, she was glad she'd waited until it was too late for him to cancel before telling him what to wear.)

Daly had gotten the dark-haired boy a separate room, so the two Capelwoods made their way out of the car to meet him there. He came out with his green duffle bag slung over his shoulder, looking mildly grumpy. He approached the car, complaining: "do I really have to wear this dumb jack—" He stopped abruptly upon seeing the redhead. "Oh, wow."

The redhead smiled shyly as she gave him a once-over. She could say the same for him. They stared at each other, tongue-tied, as Daly watched on with an amused expression. The seconds drew out as neither one said anything and the older woman would have let them just stand there, but they did have a party to attend. She cleared her throat and opened the door. "We should get going," she announced before she settled in to the driver's seat.

That jerked the pair out of their daze and a telltale red colored her daughter's cheeks. Quickly, Juliet turned and opened the door, avoiding the boy's eyes. She slid in to the middle. While she could have chosen to sit behind her mother, Juliet took the seat Topanga would've wanted her to choose. And, while he could have chosen shotgun because of this, Shawn decided to take the back seat behind the passenger's.

The rest of the drive was rather silent, though every time Daly looked into the rearview mirror to check on them, her amused expression never faltered as the boy's gaze remained on her daughter. Unfortunately, Juliet couldn't enjoy Shawn's undivided attention as much as she wanted to since the closer they were to the party, the more anxious she could feel herself becoming. She'd realized over the course of the drive that it wasn't her father's reception of her best friend that she was worried about, but— "I really hope you'll approve of him," she admitted quietly.

The dark-haired boy startled slightly at her sudden words and they took a moment for him to comprehend. Then, he frowned. "Shouldn't you have said that the other way around? That he'll approve of me?"

She glanced up at him before she quickly looked away. "Well, no. You've been in my life a lot longer than he has so I guess your opinion means more to me than his does."

Touched, he reached forward and tangled their fingers together to give her hand a gentle squeeze. "Don't worry about me, Julie. You're the only one here that should get to be upset and if you forgive him, then so do I."

His words helped and the redhead relaxed slightly. She hesitated a moment before she leaned against him to rest her head on his shoulder. Shawn looked down in surprise but then his expression softened. Daly glanced up again as if to check the road behind her but her eyes flicked over to see the fond, adoring look on the boy's face. Her eyes turned back to the road ahead of her but a secretive smile curled on her lips.

🌎🌎🌎

When they arrived at the large, stone home, the party was already in full swing. Shawn, while mildly impressed by the grandeur, found the atmosphere a little too stuffy and was otherwise unaffected by the wealth of the home. He was glad when they were outside again in the back lawn where more people than he'd expected were socializing on the grass. They were all dressed in fine outfits and had an air of affluence that certainly didn't linger around the trailer park.

In front of him, Juliet searched for her father in the crowd, all but ignoring the guests. He was quite pleased that she hadn't let go of his hand after she'd gotten out of the car and was now using their clasped fingers to pull him through the partygoers. She stopped short and he almost crashed into her, jumping back just in time. "Julie?"

"There he is," she announced. She pointed to a dark-haired man who was sitting next to a round table. A man with lighter colored hair was sitting next to him and Shawn guessed that he was one of her uncles.

"Well, why'd you stop?"

"Oh— well— uh—" the redhead tried to explain but was unable to find a suitable answer and she quieted, chewing on her bottom lip.

"Hey," he said quietly, causing her to look up at him. "It's gonna be fine, okay? I mean, you've already met my dad and that wasn't anything special."

"Yeah, but I don't even remember that. I've always known him," Juliet countered. "Besides, this is different."

"It is," he agreed. "But it's also just the same, so c'mon." He tugged on her hand and took a few steps ahead.

Sighing, she followed (instead of lead) him to her father until they were right in front of him. She caught her uncle's attention first and his expression brightened immediately. "Well, if it isn't my niche!"

Juliet let out an amused giggle at the misuse of the word. "I think you mean niece, Uncle Sam. Hi, dad."

"Hey, squirt," Barron greeted her with a grin.

"No, I definitely mean niche," Sam decided. "As in, you're a small, specialized section of the population. There's only one perfect niche for me and it's you."

The dark-haired man glanced at his brother. "Now that's just about the worst pun I've ever heard."

"At least I know where Julie gets her humor from," Shawn put in, and suddenly he earned both men's notice.

"Uh, dad, Uncle Sam, this is Shawn. Shawn, this my dad and Uncle Sam," Juliet introduced them.

"Shawn, you say?" Barron repeated as he gave the boy a once-over. "Not the best friend Shawn?"

"Yeah, him," the redhead confirmed, immediately regretting most of her life decisions that lead up to this point. She just knew her dad would take the opportunity to embarrass her.

"I've heard so much about you it feels as if we've already met," he remarked, holding out his hand.

The dark-haired boy shook it awkwardly, uncomfortable with the adults' attention on him. "Uh, me too. Er— sir," he added as an afterthought, attempting to be polite.

Barron scoffed. "Sir. You don't have to call me that, though Greg would probably like you more if you did. Since you're going to be a part of the family someday, you can just call me Barron."

"Dad!" Juliet exclaimed. Her face flamed for the second (and not last) time that day.

Shawn grinned. "So you've heard the news, then?"

"Shawn!" the redhead said in the same tone before she buried her face in her hands. Her uncle was of no help as he laughed at her discomfort openly.

"Yes, apparently her mother has been planning the arrangements since kindergarten," he joked.

"Uncle Sam! Make them stop!"

The brunet only continued to chortle. "Why should I, niche?"

Thankfully, her best friend seemed to take pity on her and dropped the lighthearted teasing for a moment. "Um s— er, Barron, if you don't mind, I'd like to talk to you. Uh— privately." At the girl's concerned look, he finished, "don't worry, Julie."

"Of course," Barron agreed, looking mildly surprised. He stood and led the boy away from the party until they were just inside the back entrance of the home away from eavesdroppers. "Alright, I'm listening," he said. He stuffed his hands in his pockets as he gave him his full focus.

Shawn shifted uneasily, uncertain of how to say what he wanted to. As he thought of the best way to begin, he noticed that Barron's eyes were blue— exactly the same shade as Julie's. The reminder helped and he finally started: "well, I think you know how, um, it's affected Julie-t—" He quickly added the t on at the end for her father's benefit. "—to not have a father for most of her childhood." When the older man nodded, he continued with growing confidence: "I just wanted to say that if you even think about leaving again, Cory and I will hunt you down and—"

"Kill me?" Barron guessed. His expression turned thoughtful at the fierce look on the boy's face. "I never intended to leave the first time. Forces beyond my control pushed me away and you can believe me when I say that I have no intention to do that a second time, especially not now that I know I have a daughter."

Surprise registered on Shawn's face. "You didn't know Julie-Juliet was your daughter?"

"I didn't know I had one," he clarified. "But I'm certainly glad I do."

"Good-good." Now that he'd said what he needed to say, Shawn wasn't sure how to continue.

"Isn't this talk supposed to go the other way around?" the dark-haired man asked. "I'm supposed to give you the 'dad talk?'"

"I think that this is an unconverted situation."

Barron gave the boy a bewildered look at the misused word but let it pass, instead choosing to comment on the sentiment: "you really do care about her a lot, huh?"

Immediately, the boy's expression softened. He didn't even think to deny it. "Yeah, I do."

He startled slightly when the man's hand landed gently on his shoulder. "I'm glad Juliet's had someone like you to look out for her when I wasn't able to and I hope you'll continue to do so." Despite the slight offense that Barron thought he wouldn't, Shawn nodded. He continued: "well, I've heard all about her side of the story but I'd be interested to know yours."

🌎🌎🌎

Talking to Barron was unlike anything Shawn had experienced before. Most of the time when he was speaking to adults, he felt like they weren't really listening and mostly ignored him. Juliet's dad, on the other hand, made him feel like every word he had to say was important. He was also very interesting to talk to; he knew as much history as Julie did and had a great fondness for books (another trait he shared with his daughter), particularly the classics and poetry.

As they made their way back out to the party, the older man cast him a curious look. "Have you ever thought about writing poetry, Shawn?"

"Er— no."

"You should," Barron advised him as they stepped outside. "It's a great way to express yourself without having to talk about your feelings. I know it's not always easy so I find that writing them down helps instead of keeping them bottled up inside."

Personally, Shawn had always thought poetry was a waste of time and just more words to read. Still, when Barron suggested actually writing it instead of just reading someone else's work, it almost sounded like a good idea. He considered it. "I'll think about it," he told the older man as they returned to the table.

Juliet stood from her father's chair as soon as they were close enough and her gaze scanned over both of them as if she'd been worried they'd gotten into a fistfight. When nothing seemed amiss, she relaxed, though not entirely. Another man had joined their group, this one having darker hair but the same blue eyes all the Capelwoods had. Shawn guessed this was the infamous "Uncle Greg."

"This is him, then?" he asked in a chilly tone.

"Yes. This is my best friend, Shawn," Juliet agreed, making sure to emphasize my best friend.

"You must be Greg, sir," Shawn said. He stuck out his hand as he remembered Barron's earlier comment.

The older man gave him a distasteful look, causing him to drop his hand back to his side. He turned to his brother. "Have you checked his pockets?"

Everyone gave him confused looks as Barron wondered, "what?"

"He's from the trailer park, isn't he?"

Juliet's face reddened at his words. "What's that supposed to mean?" she demanded.

"You're a smart girl, you should know," he replied scathingly.

"Well, I'm pretty much from the trailer park too. If you check his pockets you need to check mine as well," Juliet snapped, shifting to stand in front of the dark-haired boy. "I really don't like what you're implying, Uncle Greg."

"Then maybe you shouldn't have brought your friend with you," Greg sneered. "His type doesn't mix with ours."

The redhead opened her mouth to argue his case furiously. Her hands fisted by her sides as she glowered at her uncle, but Shawn wrapped an arm around her shoulders and leaned down to murmur, "forget it, Julie." 

Despite the sting of the man's words, he didn't want her to argue with her family because of him. (Though he couldn't help but feel pleased that she would take his side.)

"That's enough, Greg," Barron cut across the tension with a firm tone. "Go bother someone else."

"I'm only making a suggestion," the dark-haired man remarked, his voice suddenly mild. He picked up the champagne flute that had been sitting on the table and stalked off.

"Yeah, an unwanted one," the girl grumbled, still looking angry.

The eldest Capelwood turned to the boy with an apologetic look. "I'm sorry about him, Shawn. He's been that way since birth."

"I think it's 'cause I tried to choke him in the womb," Sam put in cheerfully. "I wish I did when I had the chance. Mom always said we fought constantly during her pregnancy."

"'S alright," he said with a shrug, trying not to appear too affected. The two men exchanged a look.

"I can't believe he would just say that," Juliet insisted. "Can't we put him up for adoption or something?"

Her uncle's expression turned wry. "I wish. I don't think anybody would take him though." He brightened suddenly. "Hey— there's someone I want you to meet."

Some of her resentment faded as her curiosity peaked. "Who?"

"Taylor. He's here somewhere." Sam stood, looking around as if he could find his boyfriend in the throng of guests. "He's been busy avoiding Greg."

The redhead felt some of her anger return. "Is he— y'know— against—"

"Oh no," Sam interrupted her quickly. "He's fine with that. Like we've said before, he just doesn't like anyone and he and Taylor are about as opposite as you can get."

"Shawn and I can go look for him." Juliet offered when her uncle's search proved unsuccessful.

He looked disappointed as he sat. "I wanted to be there when you met him but I suppose that's better than not meeting him at all."

"C'mon, Shawnie," she said. She shook free of his arm to grasp his hand. "Let's go find my uncle-uncle. 'Bye Uncle Sam, dad."

🌎🌎🌎

Taylor, as it turned out, had only been minutes away from rejoining his boyfriend and Barron after he'd seen Greg come and go. He took the seat next to Sam and gave him a fond look. "So that's your niece, huh?"

The light-haired man jumped and turned to him. "There you are! You're supposed to meet her."

"I'll meet her later," Taylor promised. "She looks like a fighter, though. I saw her stand up to Greg. That took guts."

"Yeah, well, he insulted her best friend." Sam shrugged. "I'd defend you if he did that to you."

The curly-haired man reached over and squeezed the other man's hand before he quickly let go. He turned to the other Capelwood. "Hey, Barron."

"Taylor." Barron returned the greeting with a friendly smile. "It's good to see you."

"You too," he agreed.

The trio fell into a comfortable silence until Sam's eyes found his niece again. She was standing in front of Shawn at one of the buffet tables with a plate in hand and she was saying something to the dark-haired boy. He had turned away from the food to give her his full attention. All three of them could see the rather adoring expression he wore as she waved her free hand around with whatever she was talking about.

"My god, he really is whipped," Sam observed as he watched the interaction.

Barron scoffed. "Like you aren't."

"I'm not!" his brother protested. "Not like he is, anyway."

"You know I hate to disagree with you, love," Taylor said, his Irish accent becoming more prominent with the endearment. "But Barron's right. Even I can tell. That's when you know it's bad."

Sam huffed indignantly and gave his boyfriend an irritated look, though the glance lacked any true heat. He crossed his arms and pouted childishly. The dark-haired man rolled his eyes. "Fine, do you want me to prove it to you? Taylor, ask him to do something."

The curly-haired man gave his boyfriend a wicked smile. "Would you get me some champagne, love?" He tacked on the last word just to make sure their point would be proven.

Sam found himself agreeing before he realized what they were doing. This time he actually glared at the pair. "That still doesn't prove anything," he grumbled as he stood to get the requested drink. Taylor and Barron exchanged amused looks. 

"I think you're fighting a losing battle there, whipped," his brother taunted him. Sam gave him a rude gesture before he grumpily tracked down a waiter.

🌎🌎🌎

Later on, Shawn and Juliet were walking along the lakeside. They'd ditched their jackets back at the house and were now more comfortable in the summer temperatures. After a few moments of silence, the dark-haired boy finally asked, "so, Taylor?"

The redhead hesitated a moment, knowing it wasn't exactly her information to give out. Still, this was her best friend. "He's, uh, probably gonna be my third uncle," she explained. "That doesn't bother you, does it?"

It took him a moment to understand the meaning. "Thir— oh." It was a little weird but he shrugged. "You're really cornering the market on uncles, aren't you?"

Relieved, she rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "You're one to talk, Mr. I-have-an-uncle-for-every-occasion-including-cremation."

"I suppose you're right," he huffed with amusement.

"Of course I am." The redhead waved a hand to dismiss his words, though she grew serious a moment later. "I really am sorry about Greg," she added. "He had no right to do that."

"Don't worry about it, Julie. I know you don't think that way." And that's all that matters.

"Still," she said with a frown. "I think he was particularly nasty on purpose and if you're going to see him in the future—"

He snagged her wrist and turned the girl to face him. Juliet met the boy's gaze with a surprised, slightly confused expression. Shawn gave her a stern look. "Stop overthinking this, Julie. It's fine," he insisted. (It wasn't, really, but he didn't want her to get too concerned over it.)

Juliet barely heard him. Instead, she was suddenly caught up in admiring his floppy brown hair and pretty blue eyes. Before she could stop herself, she breathed out: "kiss me."

"What?" He couldn't have heard her correctly, right?

"Kiss me," she repeated with an oddly determined expression.

He had. "But what about— mmph."

The redhead had grown impatient with his protesting and stepped closer to loop her arms around his neck before she pressed her lips to his, cutting him off. Immediately, every thought flew out of Juliet's head as their lips met. Unlike their first kiss which had been cautious and tentative, they'd grown more confident over time. Though his lips were still soft, the kiss was more purposeful and sure.

Shawn's hands settled on the girl's waist and his eyes closed as she kissed him. Juliet often reminded him of summer: warm and inviting and full of hope (one would think that belonged to spring, but to him, it had always been summer.) This only continued to be proven as she tasted of strawberries and cucumbers from what she'd been eating back at the house which was followed by the slight tang of her kiwi-mango lip gloss.

When they parted, her eyes were a brilliant blue as they focused on him. She let out a breathless giggle. "I don't think we can be just friends anymore, Shawnie."

He looked down at her with an affectionate expression as his hands remained resting on her sides. "Yeah. I don't think we can, either."

"Then what are we?"

It was that question that he'd been dreading. As much as he wanted to be her boyfriend, he'd rather remain at arm's length than ever hurt her. Instead, he shrugged. "Who needs labels?"

A frown flickered across her face but it was gone in an instant. Juliet had thought that that kiss had been enough to convince him otherwise but at this point, she was willing to take whatever she could so long as it wasn't friendly. "Yeah, okay." 










The first hit.

A/n: I know that according to Poetic License: An Ode to Holden Caulfield (season 6, episode 9), Shawn had been writing poetry for a long time. However, since it was never introduced before it was mentioned in this episode, it felt very abrupt and put in just for plot purposes (which it was.) I thought it would make more sense for him to start writing later and have an outside influence so it would feel more natural, which is why I changed it to Barron introducing the idea to him. 

[written apr. 2021]
[edited may 2022]