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As he walked with Shawn through the police station, handing out gifts, Gus reflected on his long-time friendship. Being Shawn's best friend was both a blessing and a curse. On one hand, he had a friend he knew he could count on when it mattered, who never judged him, who he could be silly and childish with, and who inserted some much needed excitement into his otherwise rather mundane life. On the other hand, Shawn was unpredictable, self-centered, an attention hog, and delighted in tormenting Gus. The excitement that Gus sometimes craved usually came mixed with more than a little chaos that followed the force of nature that was Shawn Spencer.
Watching Buzz walk away with his new Daisy Red Rider toy rifle, Gus chuckled. “He's going to shoot his eye out.”
“Yes, he is.”
“That was amazing, how did you know that?”
Glancing to make sure no one was too close, Shawn replied sotto voce, “The room where I take naps shares a vent with the room where they do the psychological evals.” Gus smirked. Of course.
They continued forward, handing out gifts. Shawn stopped in front of Lassie, digging for the gift he had made specially for this occasion. Gus wasn't sure why Shawn insisted on making a snow-globe for Lassie – he would have thought even Shawn knew there were better gifts to give your boyfriend for Christmas.
“Lassie!” Shawn handed Lassie the snow globe. Gus could tell right away from the low gasp and horrified look on Lassie's face that this was not a good gift idea. But Shawn did love his pranks, and Gus enjoyed them when he wasn't the target, so he simply smiled and enjoyed the show.
“I.. I hate snow-globes.” Lassie looked at Shawn while trying to hold the gift without actually touching it.
Shawn put on his pretend-confused face. “That's strange. My psychic senses told me specifically that snow-globes didn't give you nightmares about being trapped in a clear ball with snow that burns your skin off.”
Gus knew that this particular piece of information probably came from a more intimate source than listening in on the psych evals – though he certainly wasn't going to ask. He had always hated it when Shawn over-shared his personal life, no matter who he was dating. A small shudder ran through him as he recalled that whole debacle with Shawn's high school crush, Abigail. Day after day of hearing how perfect she was, how her skin was like alabaster, how Shawn fantasized about how their date would go. That was when Gus instituted the no-sharing-of-details rule.
Gus wasn't sure what to think about this relationship with Detective Lassiter. He knew Shawn had been panting after the detective almost from the moment they met, but didn't think Lassiter would reciprocate Shawn's feelings. When he did, Gus was happy for Shawn. Then he was irritated – Shawn was spending a lot of time with Lassie, canceling plans, mooning about, writing “Shawn + Lassie = Shassie” in hearts all over Gus' prescription drug pamphlets. On top of that, suddenly he wouldn't go to the waffle place with Gus anymore but wouldn't explain why.
Lassie walked off, quickly and without yelling at them – which Gus thought was a little weird, but maybe that was a good consequence of "Shassie". Internally shrugging, he followed Shawn to Juliet's desk.
Shawn held up a little pack of cat toys. “Mr. Mittens says it felt just like going to sleep, and he doesn't hold it against you at all. Kitty heaven? It's just like East Beach.” Juliet's eyes widened and she looked astonished. Gus actually felt a little bad about this – he knew Juliet believed Shawn was psychic, and that she would be terribly hurt if she found out the truth. But he also didn't know how to tell her without hurting her, either.
Juliet's eyes sparkled while she happily described her family Christmas. Gus felt a small flutter in his stomach. She is so pretty. Gus wondered if she was seeing anyone, and whether Shawn would know. Of course she is, how could she be single, Guster? She's smart, competent and beautiful. Give it up. He re-focused on what Jules was saying. “... you guys should totally come over tonight, if you like.”
Before Gus had a chance to speak, Shawn responded, “I do love a Scottish craft.” Gus elbowed Shawn sharply. “But, uh, my father and I have been invited to the Gusters for an old fashioned holiday dinner.”
Gus smiled. “Maybe next time.” Gus had told Shawn in no uncertain terms that he was not allowed to back out of their Christmas plans, especially since both he and Henry were invited. Gus was not going to spend Christmas with his parents and Henry without Shawn there. But Gus also expected Shawn to invite Lassie to dinner, so he was surprised when that didn't happen. Any questions Gus may have had about Lassie's holiday plans were answered as Shawn continued talking to Juliet.
“But I can think of someone who could use a little cheer this time of year. Recently divorced.”
Picking up on Shawn's plan, Gus couldn't resist poking at the small spot of insecurity in Shawn's armour. Keeping a straight face, he said, “Separated.”
“Estranged.” Shawn put a slight emphasis on the word as he glanced at Gus. Gus pretended to think about it and weigh the word. “Embattled?”
Shawn sounded a little peeved as he looked away from Gus and replied, "Yes!” Heh. Gus was rather pleased that his barb found it's target.
Shawn continued, “And all alone for the holidays.” All three looked over to Lassie's desk, which was covered in snow-globes.
“Ugh! All right, who keeps telling people I want snow-globes for Christmas?!”
--
Gus felt the vein in his temple begin to pound, and headache build behind his eyes. Why had he thought Christmas dinner with his parents – who were incapable of seeing him as a competent adult – and Shawn – who was incapable of becoming a competent adult – was a good idea? Gus had never been so happy when dinner was over and it was time for caroling. He eagerly followed Shawn up the steps to Mr. Fuller's house, which he never would have done if he hadn't spent the last two hours listening to Shawn try to impress his parents, his parents snarky responses, and Henry's attempts to mediate.
“We wish you a Merry Christmas! We wish you a Merry Christmas! And a happy new-” Oh crap.
--
How did this happen? When did this become my life? Gus leaned over to sniff another old lady. My parents are in jail, accused of murder. I'm the son of murderers! Gus shook his head briefly. No, I'm not, and Shawn will solve this case. Gus' faith in Shawn was the only thing holding him together at the moment. Which is why Gus was at Old Man Fuller's estate sale, sniffing old ladies. Gus shook his head at Shawn; the super sniffer wasn't finding anyone wearing White Linen perfume. Shawn seemed frustrated – his brilliant idea wasn't panning out, and Gus was feeling his own anxiety increase. The auctioneer called out, “Sold! To the man in the blue argyle sweater for $500, this antique Confederate Battle Flag.” Gus looked around to see who bought that awful thing before glancing down at his own sweater. Crap. What the hell am I going to do with this?
Shawn was amused. “Wow, you can totally get a gun rack for your truck now.” Shawn's remark earned him a quick slap to the midsection. The action turned him toward the entrance, and his face went from fake grimace to real. Gus looked up and saw Jules and Lassie enter, the latter looking very unhappy. Shawn turned to Gus. “Dude, I don't know what to do!”
“Well, you better do something!” Gus wasn't sure if Shawn was referring to his difficulty solving the case, or his fight with Lassie. He didn't know what exactly had happened with Lassiter, but the tall detective had been surlier than usual, and hadn't spoken to Shawn for the last couple days. If Gus weren't pissed at Lassiter for arresting his mom, he might have talked to Shawn about it – but as it stood, Gus felt Lassie could suck it.
“Dude, the super smeller was supposed to smell the...” Gus didn't say anything when Shawn trailed off, many years of best friend status meant Gus knew the blank look on Shawn's face indicating he was thinking. Shawn pulled some perfume from his pocket and sprayed in the air. “Quick, identify the base component of that fragrance!”
Sniffing deeply, Gus closed his eyes and concentrated. “Gardenia!”
“Are you absolutely certain?”
Gus glared. He's questioning the Super Smeller? “Tahitian Gardenias.”
“All right. Give me a little push.”
“What?”
“Give me a little push.”
“I'm not pushing you, Shawn.” Gus hated it when Shawn didn't explain himself and just demanded something.
“Just push me!” Shawn leaned into Gus' person space and hissed in his face. Letting his anger and frustration surface, Gus shoved him hard, sending him careening into Lassie. Probably part of the plan. Solve the murder, clear my parents and get back together with Lassie. Typical Shawn. Though Gus wasn't sure that last part would very well, given how Lassiter forcefully shoved Shawn away without even looking at him. Shawn proceeded to do his loud, attention grabbing shtick, outing the old neighbor lady as the murderer trying to cover up to her affair. Gus felt ridiculous riding that stupid slow chair up the staircase, but he was stoked when he heard Lassie's words.
“Uh, Guster, you can tell your parents we're going to drop the charges.”
“Woo! Good work Shawn!” Despite his elation, Gus saw Lassiter looking at Shawn sadly before he followed Juliet and the suspect out the door. His earlier anger at the lanky detective drained away, and Gus felt bad for the man. I guess I'll have to talk to Shawn about this. Especially since it's probably his fault. Shawn didn't seem to notice as he held his fist out to Gus. Gus shook his head and started the chair back down the stairs. “You've already had your moment.”
--
Finally. Gus felt elated. His parents were cleared of all charges, the holiday dinner with the Spencers went well, his dad wanted advice on investing, and both parents just acknowledged his good business decisions. His good life choices. He tried not to sound too surprised when he replied.
“Oh, sure. No problem. Let me go get the car. Mr Spencer, Shawn.” Gus gave Shawn a look as he walked by, which he knew would be correctly interpreted. Good luck with Lassie tonight, I'll be around when you need to talk. Shawn nodded slightly, acknowledging the unspoken comment. Gus knew that no matter the outcome, Shawn would be at his place tomorrow with pineapple ice cream and a DVD of some 80's movie they've both seen a million times, wanting to talk. And Gus will eat ice cream, watch the movie and listen. After all, that was what best friends were for.