Heh. *cough*
I would like to point out that when I started posting this, I thought it was complete.
Because THIS is why I don't post WIPs.
Aaaanyway, it is NOW complete.
The next two days saw a détente the likes of which the US and Russia had never managed, as Gus and the Winchesters mutually agreed to focus their efforts on Shawn instead of each other. Shawn was by turns amused and annoyed when that led to him having three mother hens pecking at him. Still, he was quite pleased to have ALL of his closest friends in one room without shouted words or bloodshed.
The three days after that were a little more tense, but Gus going to work and the Winchesters going to... somewhere not Shawn's apartment... helped immensely. Shawn was sad to see the tension return, but two days were more than he expected to be honest.
A week after they'd walked into the Psych office and found Shawn a bloody mess, Sam and Dean announced they were leaving.
"Really?" Shawn said, flipping pancakes.
"Can't stay forever, Shawn," Dean said. "Lotta fuglies out there still that need killing."
"But we didn't even figure out what happened to our stuff!" Shawn protested, on the verge of pouting much to the amusement of his the other three at the table.
Shawn set the plate down and Dean and Gus both reached for pancakes and glared at each other. A minor duel of forks followed and Shawn let them fight that one out on their own.
Sam sipped his coffee and said, "I'm sure you'll figure it out soon."
A triumphant cry escaped Dean as he got his fork past Gus' and into a pancake. Gus huffed in annoyance and moved in lightning fast just as soon as Dean had cleared out. Dean cackled and leisurely poured far more syrup than he needed, forcing Gus to wait longer. Shawn and Sam mostly ignored them. After the third day, it was less than original.
"Yeah, probably."
"Maybe they'll turn themselves in," Dean said around a mouthful of pancake.
Gus' lip curled in disgust, but he said nothing—he'd already learned the hard way that it would only make it worse if you acknowledged the behavior.
"I doubt it," he said instead as he poured his syrup. "Why would they?"
Dean shrugged. "Guilty conscience?"
Gus snorted. "Uh huh. Sure."
Sam changed the subject to a lighter topic before his brother could voice whatever thought was lurking on his tongue, and the rest of breakfast passed peacefully.
They stayed long enough to help clean up from the meal, then loaded up the car and said their goodbyes—claps on the shoulder and gentle squeezes of the same, promises to call and keep in touch, and a sigh from Shawn as he vowed to keep the back door to the office locked with a roll of his eyes.
Dean arched an eyebrow at Gus who just nodded shortly. Shawn shook his head in amusement.
"Drive safely!" he said as the two Winchesters climbed into the car. A rumble of the engine and a last wave out the windows and they departed.
Shawn didn't move immediately and Gus waited to follow his lead.
"See?" Shawn finally said, turning to squint in the morning sun. "Told you they wouldn't kill you in your sleep."
Gus rolled his eyes. "Not this time," he agreed.
Shawn chuckled and turned to lead the way back inside. "So, what do you say to a movie this afternoon?"
"Shawn, we're supposed to meet the chief at the station at two."
"Can I call in sick still?"
"Sure. But until she talks to us, they're not filing the final report of what happened. And until they do that, the insurance won't pay out. And until they do that we can't go shopping to replace the stuff we lost."
Shawn's face scrunched up. "That sucks."
"Yes, it does. Do you still want to go to a movie?"
Shawn sighed. "No. I suppose we can go to the station."
Gus nodded. "Maybe we can go tonight," he conceded. "Celebrate the end of this whole thing."
"Now that sounds like a plan," Shawn said, holding up a fist.
Gus bumped it as they entered the building once more. "Amen to that."
o.o
"So, tell me again why those two randomly decided to turn themselves in?"
Shawn shrugged. "Because they let their consciences be their guides?"
Gus shot Shawn a look over his shoulder, holding it until Shawn looked up.
"What?"
"Shawn, Lassiter and Juliet may be fooled by your psychic routine—"
Shawn snorted.
"—But I know very well that it's all a façade."
Shawn tried shrugging."Shawn."
He sighed and set down his handheld AM/FM radio.
"Look, Gus, does it really matter?"
Gus didn't speak for a moment, eyes narrowing.
"They did something didn't they?"
"Yes, Gus, the secret government organization that harassed Mulder for years and controlled the US Government from behind the scenes took an interest in the robbery and assault of a tiny psychic detective agency in Santa Barbara." Shawn rolled his eyes.
"Not them, Shawn, your friends. The... Winchesters." He lowered his voice on the name much to Shawn's amusement.
Shawn tossed his baseball up in the air and caught it again.
"I don't know, Gus."
Gus snorted.
"I really don't. I have my suspicions, of course, given that Marcus and Ronnie were absolutely terrified, but I have no proof of anything, nor has Dean or Sam confessed anything to me.
"As far as I know, they stayed long enough to make sure I was okay and alive, and that I didn't die in my sleep, ran a few errands, probably did some laundry, then took off to avoid possible contact with my dad or any members of the Santa Barbara police force."
Gus didn't respond immediately, having gone back to poking through the box.
"This isn't our stuff, Shawn."
"What?"
"This isn't our stuff," Gus repeated, slowing it down for emphasis.
Shawn frowned. "What do you mean? They didn't give us someone else's—"
"There was a scratch on the TV casing, right here. From when you threw your chopstick after they voted Richard Dean Anderson off of Dancing With the Stars."
Shawn's expression was pure affront. "Dude, it was MacGyver! The man can make a nuclear bomb out of a rubber band, a paperclip, a drinking straw, and some bubble gum! And he saved the planet from body-snatching aliens for almost a decade! You can't vote him off because he missed a couple of steps in a tango! A tango, I'd like to add, that even the judges said was very difficult for experienced dancers."
"Shawn."
Shawn huffed and crossed the room, examining the grey plastic.
Odd. There had been a scratch there.
Shawn had a thought and checked the serial number of the device. And snorted.
"What?" Gus asked.
Dhawn just went to the box and pulled out some other things, looking them all over.
"Dude, this isn't our stuff."
"I told you!"
"It's new."
Gus' brow furrowed.
"It's what?"
Shawn shrugged. "Some of it anyway. The stuff that they probably sold right away. They bought us new stuff to replace the other stuff." He pulled an envelope out of the bottom of the box and opened the flap to find it stuffed full of cash and a note.
We're really sorry about your stuff we damaged. Hopefully this will help pay for some of it. - Marcus and Ronnie
His grin widened and he chuckled.
He needed to send Sam and Dean something to say thank you. And next time he saw them, he was so asking Dean to show him how he did the scary face that made everyone and anyone do what he asked them to do.
He wondered if it would work on Lassie...
I am not even going to begin to speculate on when the companion piece will be out. Um. 'Eventually' is the best I can do.
Review, plz & thx. Even if it's to tell me I'm an asshat.