Five Ways Shawn Met Gus (Depending on Who's Asking) by thecomfychair
Summary:

"Prison," Shawn said darkly.



Awards:
Categories: Pre-season Characters: Gus, Shawn
Genres: General
Warnings: None
Challenges: None
Series: None
Chapters: 2 Completed: Yes Word count: 3085 Read: 14786 Published: February 03, 2007 Updated: February 03, 2007
Five Ways by thecomfychair
Author's Notes:

Thanks go to papersoflight who looked this over and whipped it into shape. 

Disclaimer: Psych, Gus, and Shaw are not mine, and no copyright infringement is intended. Promise.

1. The biker bar, undercover

"Prison," Shawn said darkly. The biker with the pool cue scooted down a couple of stools, while the bartender eyed them up, trying to decide if they were serious or not. He peered at Gus in particular, the briefcase, khakis and polo ensemble clearly putting him at odds with the story Shawn was spinning.

"Prison, huh?" he asked, leaning over on the counter to casually show off his myriad of tattoos, including a snake eating a kitten and a Chinese character that he said meant "killer," but actually meant "sunflower."

"It's always the quiet ones." Shawn said, his voice getting perceptibly lower. He glanced carefully to his left, where Gus was pretending to be interested in a Hot Rods and Bods calendar. "I heard Gus once killed a man because the guy took the last fresh doughnut at the Krispy Kreme, right before Gus was to order." The bartender leaned in closer, Shawn speaking now at a whisper, "Gus was never caught. Not enough of the body left around the hole..."

The bartender visibly paled, and stared at Gus over the register.

Gus just smiled politely and ordered a Grave Digger.

2. The gay bar, undercover

"Soccer camp," Shawn shouted to their suspect, over the cloud of smoke and across the table. "We were just kids. Saw him putting on his shin guards and couldn't help myself."

"I have very well-toned calves," Gus supplied.

Peter, the recently dumped kleptomaniac now stealing wedding rings, sighed wistfully.

The thrumming bass was giving Gus a headache, but a light touch on his shoulder and there was Shawn grinning like he had a plan, which never boded well.

"Wanna dance?"

"No."

"Gus-"

"No!"

Then Shawn started whining, and poking, and Gus guessed he was messing up the plan, so with a long-suffering look he got up from the table and told Peter he was better off being single anyway.

3. The Psych office, with baked goods

"Mffshfdhsd," is what it sounded like Shawn said, though the cupcake he was eating with alarming speed was probably distorting the speech process.

"How do you spell that?" asked their new secretary/actress with sarcasm, as she painstakingly tried to type without chipping her nails. She had been there three weeks, the longest one yet.

Gus ignored Shawn's mumblings, eyeing the piece of Reese's pie in the middle of a pile of chocolate cookies, all courtesy of the baker who had thought his ex-wife was trying to kill him. (It was his dentist.)

But Isabelle must have been tired of typing, so she flashed her pretty blue eyes and fluttered her eyelashes, and Shawn swallowed and said more clearly, "Schoolyard."

She tapped her long nails against the table. "And?"

"Well, we were in grade school, and Gus here, Gus was upset because someone had stolen his Care Bear lunchbox—"

"Shawn," Gus hissed.

"Fine, his very manly Care Bear lunchbox, and somebody had called him a name, four-eyes or something. He had just moved here and was all alone, and I naturally decide to help him." Shawn was gesturing continuously, flinging cake bits every which way as he told the story.

Gus looked down at his wrist to start timing how long it would take before Shawn just flung the whole cupcake against the wall and accrued massive cleaning bills. As a blank wrist stared back at him, he then remembered that Peter had stolen his watch last week. During their karaoke duet to "Dreamgirls". Which had been videotaped, and was now circulating on Youtube under the anonymous username of “XxspencerxX," Gus sighed loudly.

"Are you bored Gus? This is your history too, dude." Shawn asked, acting affronted. "Anyway, to those paying attention, we track down the lunchbox thief and build a very elaborate trap to thwart him, and what do you know, he also had a lunch money ring on the side. We work our magic, the day is saved and Gus has the only best friend he'll ever need," Shawn finished with a flourish of crumbs.

Gus found that statement just a little sad, and was about to snap back when—

"And tell me, when did you rescue your head from your ass?" Isabelle said coolly, eyes giving away nothing.

Shawn looked a little taken aback, and Gus hid his smirk behind a piece of Gooey Butter Cake.

"That was the next weekend," Shawn eventually replied, his mouth twitching.

Isabelle looked over to the couch and winked at Gus. He smiled slightly and went back to the pie. Gus liked her, he really did. But the last sassy competent secretary had tried to drown Shawn in a koi pond, so he was going to keep his eye on her all the same.


4. The PD, after Chief Vick’s (very) belated baby shower

"Fall, 1984. It was a cloudy and dreary afternoon, and I'm outside on the curb down from the bus stop, attempting to solve the mystery of the disappearing Parent-Teacher Meeting note. My harem of elementary school girlfriends is on their break and I'm this close to getting a suspicious-looking snail to talk, when I turn around and see this kid, screaming about aliens, and suddenly I get a He-Man lunchbox and a fruit cup to the face—"

"You did not!" Gus broke in.

"Dude, there was pineapple in the fruit cup—"

"Shawn!"

"Okay no, it was pears. Gus, you know how you gotta have sex and violence to sell the movie and keep the kiddies entertained."

"You're not making a pitch, Shawn," Gus scrunched his face up, "And pineapples are not sexy." He was tipsy, or the room was. A plastic stork went sailing by his head.

"Pineapples are the playboy bunnies of the fruit world." Shawn replied, teetering on the edge of the desk, spilling champagne all over his stork arsenal and the booties cake, " You know we could totally make a movie. The Chief could be the feisty ball-busting studio exec. Lassiter, you could so be the best boy,” Shawn said, turning to find the detective staring at the coat rack “--but only once you realize the five cups of punch you just drank were spiked."

Lassiter looked suspiciously at Shawn’s jacket.

"Little to the left." Shawn continued, getting another cup of the punch. "We--We've even got an in with Izzy. C'mon Gus-- Will, Jamie, whatever actor you want. And Jake Gyllenhall would play me, because Brad Pitt is so over, dude.”

 

Chief Vick raised a questioning eyebrow.

 

So over," Shawn insisted.

"But where's the sex?" Juliet interrupted innocently, and Shawn scooted back up on the table-- knocking a hand into the hanging lamp swaying precariously above his head--and picked up again, rambling tipsily on about their long and arduous journey through the backyard of Mrs. Mulligan, including a run-in with the Seven and Under Junior Motorcycle Gang, and, "The harem? Did I not mention the harem?"

The ending involved a black eye, a cat door, and Batman; afterwards the Chief rolled her eyes while Lassiter passed out in the plastic ficus. Gus rolled around in the office chair under the streamers, picturing the movie (Taye Diggs, no question) and wondering if he could get a writing credit since it was his life. Sort of.

A crash sounded behind him, storks flying everywhere.

5. The Santa Barbara Cottage Hospital, Neurology Unit, one vengeful loose light fixture later


"Who?"

 

 

Plus...

This story archived at http://www.psychfic.com/viewstory.php?sid=27