Hi, Psychos! A newbie to this fandom here. Nice to meet you all. Few things to know before we get on with the story.

1. I was inspired to write this while rewatching the show in anticipation of the movie. 2. It's an AU to the S4 finale, that is: when Abigail tells Shawn to stop chasing psychopaths, he actually does. I tried to stay as in character as I could, but keep in mind this is angstier than anything the show ever tried to pull of (hopefully). 3. Today is actually Friend's Day in my country, so I thought it was fitting to post this today. 4. Don't be fooled by the first lines of this story -this fic is not about Abigail. 5. Like I said, this is my first Psych fic; I have a longer fic in the works which I might post if the fandom is still active (Is it active? Are you guys reading and writing Psych fanfics? I'll check it out soon). are to me what pineapples are to Shawn.

That's about it. Don't own, please don't sue.

THE MEASURE OF FRIENDSHIP

"One measure of friendship consists not in the number of things friends can discuss, but in the number of things they need no longer mention."

– Clifton Fadiman

Gus and Shawn are in a fight. No, not just a fight -the worst fight in the history of fights, and it's not because how few fights they've had over the years. This is a serious fight. A terrible fight. A we-are-not-friends-anymore kind of fight.

And it's all because of a woman.

Now, if you had told Gus a year ago that he would be in a fight with his best friend over a woman, he would have told you to c'mon, son and walked away. Because Gus and Shawn don't fight -not like this, anyway, and not over a woman. That is such a cliché and Gus doesn't do clichés.

Gus and Shawn don't fight over a woman. Except for that one time when they did.

Gus had liked Abigail at first. When they were still at school, he had encouraged Shawn to go after her and had been pissed when his best friend told him he had stood her up at the pier. Gus had smelled trouble then, and not because of his Super Sniffer. By that point he had already known Shawn for most of his life and had known what his mind was capable of. He knew then that Abigail would always hang above his friend's head as a huge what if, the only mystery he would never be able to solve.

Neither of them had thought much about Abigail (that Gus could tell) for the next thirteen years. Shawn left to do his thing, Gus stayed to do his. They remained the bestest and truest of friends and they didn't fight. Not ever. Not even when Shawn came back and roped him into opening a fake psychic detective agency by putting his unsuspecting name on the lease. Not even when he had them chasing after murderers and kidnapers and bank robbers. Not even when Shawn was getting shot and Gus was living out his worst nightmare.

Gus and Shawn didn't fight.

When Shawn had announced that he had finally decided to take the leap and asked Abigail out after reconnecting at their reunion, Gus had been just a little bit surprised, but he had let it slide. He'd known that going out with Abigail Lytar was something that Shawn just had to do. He didn't think it would amount to anything at any rate.

But it had. For the first time in his life, Shawn was in a committed, adult relationship and he seemed happy about it. He accepted the drawer Abigail had cleared for him at her place and got only mildly drunk when he found the toothbrush she had left in his bathroom. Gus had been genuinely happy for him, because if Shawn is settled and content, then Gus might find someone with whom he can be settled and content himself.

Besides, he'd still quite liked Abigail back then.

He'd liked her a lot less when Shawn had told him that she would be moving to Uganda for six months or more for work. Gus had seen the toll her departure had taken on his friend and had started to worry, especially because of the uncertain terms they had left things in before she left: they hadn't really broken up but they weren't together either. She had gone back to being the dark cloud over Shawn's head and Gus had started to feel the tiniest hints of unease.

But he hadn't shared this with Shawn, knowing there would be no point. Instead he had remained by his side, quietly supporting him as he struggled to decide whether he should stick with his teenage crush or if he should stop trying to ignore the feelings he had for Juliet O'Hara, the woman he had slowly been falling for for four years. Because that's what they did, Gus and Shawn. They were there for each other.

And they didn't fight. Not ever.

And then one day -one awful, terrible, horrible day- the day a psychopath had decided to force Shawn into a decision in the most disturbing and final of ways, they had fought. Hard.

And now, Gus hasn't talked to his best friend in nine months.

He blames Abigail for this. Wholly and completely. Well, no. He blames Mr Yin, too. But Abigail had taken a bad situation and made it a million times worse.

Anyone who knows Shawn knows you can't expect him to make life or death decisions when he's hurt. His father had tried to pressure him into going to college a few months after the divorce and Shawn had ended up on his motorcycle riding across the country for over half a decade. What Abigail had done was much worse.

It had seemed ridiculous to Gus when he first heard it and he had told Shawn as much. That was his first mistake. Not that she was shaken about the fact that a psychopath had abducted and left her to die under the pier. That was entirely reasonable. Not wanting to be in that situation again seemed sane. But asking Shawn to give everything up and go to Uganda with her, that- that was ridiculous.

Because this was Shawn. Shawn has tried to be a lot of things in his life, but he's only been himself when he's solving cases and playing detective. Shawn can't give that up. Asking him to give that up was ridiculous.

But Shawn had spent the last few days running after a psycho who had already tried to blow his mother up, had watched as something of a friend was brutally murdered because of him and had been forced to chose who to save out of the only two girls he had ever really loved. He'd been scared and vulnerable and Abigail had taken full advantage of it and Gus had told Shawn as much.

So, for the first time in over twenty years, Shawn and Gus had fought. Viciously. Gus doesn't have eidetic memory but he still remembers with painful clarity the words they had snarled at each other and it makes him sick.

Twenty-plus years of friendship brought down over a girl. This was exactly the kind of thing Shawn and Gus would laugh about. Except that Shawn had gone MIA a few days after the whole Yin fiasco and, as far as Gus could tell, no one had heard from him since.

Gus is not going to lie, the last nine months have been hard. Shawn has always been there for him (even during the five years he had been gone he'd still popped up unexpectedly from time to time and they had talked on the phone all the time), so he feels his loss like he would miss a limb -worse, because one can get a prosthesis to replace a hand, but there is no replacement for Shawn's quick wit. It's taken him weeks to stop expecting him to show up whenever he goes and he still slips more often than he'd like.

It's been a horrible time as it is, but now Mr Yin is back and Gus has descended into an eighth, previously unknown, circle of hell.

He's spent almost every waking hour of the last two days at the SBPD, ever since Lassiter had stormed into his office and demanded he told him where Shawn was. Gus had obviously been unable to help him on that front, but he had decided to tag along on his investigation. He hadn't worked a case in months, but he had been right by Shawn the last two times Yin and Yang had surfaced, so they were all kind of hoping that he had some knowledge that the police didn't.

So far, it wasn't really working out and they were running out of time.

A girl is missing and unlike his more organized counterpart, Yin has not given them any clues, just a rapidly approaching deadline.

The whole police department is gathered at the conference room, where Chief Vick is supposed to be briefing them in whatever little information they have. Gus is supposed to be there too, but he has excused himself momentarily to get some air.

He walks to the restroom and splashes some water on his face, hoping that the shock will bring something back. Shawn hadn't been too worried about unmasking Yin last time, but maybe he had stumbled upon something that might now be relevant. After all, that was exactly what his friend would be doing if he were here, he reminds himself, watching everything and making connections. He can channel his inner Shawn, can't he?

No, he can't.

Shawn is one of a kind.

Sighing in defeat he walks back to the bullpen. He pauses just outside the conference room, not the least bit excited about going back in. The situation is dire enough. There is a girl who is about to die. That is bad. The the whole department is on edge, more so than usual. Juliet is on the verge of breaking down. After what happened the last time, Chief Vick had suggested she sat this case out, but of course Juliet wouldn't do that. She's too much of a professional for that. But she's far from at ease and it shows.

Lassiter is tenser than usual. He's gone over everything they have on Yin and Yang going back twenty years, looking for the tiniest of clues, but of course there are none. Not that he can see, anyway.

Every beat cop is ready for action and Chief Vick is barely keeping it together.

All in all, the atmosphere in the conference room is far from cozy, but Gus is too involved to walk away now. He owes it to Shawn to be there, too. They might be in a fight, but he knows his friend. Gus knows that Shawn would want at least one of them in there.

Despite everything.

He takes a final look at the whiteboard in a last ditch attempt to stall for time. There are at least two dozen pictures and countless annotations and there is no way that Gus can make sense of any of it, but he still tries. He has to try.

"It was the teacher, you know?" says a voice from his side. "Professor Rotmensen -check it out, he hasn't shown up at work for a week but left this assignment for his substitute."

Gus accepts the sheet of paper that is placed under his nose and reads something that rings disturbingly familiar. It is the first thing that vaguely resembles a clue that Gus has seen all day.

This is the break they needed. Whether it'll be enough to untangle the whole mess or if they'll need more remains to be see, but Random Officer Number Seven has found something and at this point that's more than enough. He looks back at the conference room expecting to see everyone gearing up for action, but it appears that Chief Vick is still briefing them, which is odd because Gus would have imagined that they would be moving with a bit more urgency.

Come to think about it, Random Officer Number Seven sounded remarkably calm when he shared his news -less like an officer sharing a key piece of evidence and more like a guy sharing a fun tidbit with a friend.

Gus turns around slowly and realizes two things at once.

Number one, Random Officer Number Seven is not a police officer.

And number two, he's not random at all.

Shawn is giving him the same smile that has landed Gus in trouble more times than he can remember and his eyes are shining with defiance -not bad defiance, no; it's the look he's always given him when they both know he's about to do something he's not supposed to do.

Half of Gus mind is screaming no, no, no.

The other one is screaming yes, finally, yes.

"I am having a vision," Shawn announces loudly, and then he proceeds to throw himself against the whiteboard, Lassiter's desk, Gus and everything he can find that'll make enough ruckus to call attention to himself. Gus watches him in fascination, simply grabbing him when he bounces off of him and pushing him in a different direction as he knows he's expected to do. It's the same perfectly choreographed dance they have been dancing since Shawn's first "vision" and neither one of them has forgotten the steps.

"SPENCER," Lassiter's exclamation precedes him into the bullpen, the whole department on his heels.

"I'm seeing- a shipwreck. A farmgirl- No, she's not it," Shawn slumps against Lassiter's desk and his hand just so happens to knock over his phone as he straightens out. "A Captain- no; a First Mate- no, no. There's someone else there w-"

"It's the professor," Gus supplies, because, as usual, Shawn has given him just enough information for him to 'help him' decode his visions.

Shawn smiles up at him in gratitude from the chair on which he has collapsed, apparently completely overwhelmed by his power and Gus nods his head once in acknowledgment.

Nobody asks him if he's sure, because of course he is. They simply grab their things and set out to the university in hopes of finding something out. Gus hesitates for a moment, uncertain of what his place is anymore. Shawn hasn't moved either, and now that Gus takes a better look at him he can tell that he actually looks a bit spent. But before he can comment on it, his friend has met his eye and he's smiling that smile of his again.

"Shotgun!" he calls unnecessarily. And then he's off towards the car, Gus on his heels, right where he belongs.

When all is said and done three hours later, both friends sit on the back of an ambulance trying hard not to laugh as the Chief of Police rains hell down on them. Well, one of them is trying not to laugh; Gus doesn't quite see the humor in the situation yet.

"What were you thinking running into the house without back-up? I know you think that rules don't apply to you, Mr Spencer, but honestly-"

"Relax, Chief, it's just a bit of smoke inhalation," Shawn reassures her through the mask he's been instructed to wear. "And we got the girl and the psycho out, so-"

"Which brings me to my second point," she cuts him off. "You are not a fireman, Mr Spencer! You shouldn't have gone back into the house!"

"Now, that's not fair, Chief. He's not a detective either and that has never stopped him before," Lassiter comments from her side, but his words lack their usual bite.

Shawn laughs, but the sound immediately turns turns into coughs and he leans forward to catch his breath. Gus places an arm around his shoulders to comfort him and sends the detective a glare.

"What are you doing here, Carlton?" Vick asks her head detective, a bit alarmed by the young psychic's status.

"Waiting to take Thing One and Thing Two's statements."

"Now? He can hardly breathe!" Gus protests.

"Gus, don't be the day the music died," Shawn says. His voice is coarser than usual and a bit weak, but he's trying hard not to show it. "I'm fine."

Gus just scoffs at that but doesn't comment on it.

"Funny how the spirits didn't mention that Rotmensen was going to set the whole house on fire, isn't it?" Lassiter says casually.

"If you must know, Lassie, the spirits are a bit angry at me at the moment and decided not to tell me the whole story," Shawn replies, his eyes shining with amusement. "They do that sometimes to keep me on my toes. But it all worked out in the end, didn't it?"

That's debatable, Gus thinks. While yes, things did work out in the sense that there had been no casualties, Shawn had cut it very close. Gus and him had been almost by the door with Allison when they had seen smoke drifting down from where they had last seen Mr Yin. Shawn had insisted that his friend and the girl got out while he went to make sure that their perp lived to stand trial. He'd escaped the fire per se, but by the time the firemen had helped him out he had inhaled quite a bit of smoke, though the paramedics at the scene were confident that no permanent damage had been done. They weren't even going to take him to the hospital, which was something Shawn had already pointed out several times in the past fifteen minutes to anyone who asked him if he's fine.

"Detective Lassiter, I think we can wait until tomorrow to get Mr Spencer's statement."

"Can we?" Lassiter insists. "Are we even sure he's still going to be around tomorrow?"

Gus flinchs because it's obvious that Lassiter is not worried about Shawn not living through the night and neither is him. Shawn hasn't said a word about his plans and Gus has been too busy -and too scared- to ask him. It's entirely possible that he's planning on heading to the airport as soon as he has the all-clear.

"I can clear some space in my callendar for you, Lasserface," Shawn replies, entirely unfazed by the jab. "Shall we say around five?"

"First thing in the morning, Spencer."

"Great. Four thirty it is."

"Spencer, I swear to god-"

"Detective Lassiter, I've got this," the Chief cuts in.

Lassiter hesitates for a moment longer.

"I mean it, Spencer. If I don't see you at the office before noon tomorrow, I will have you arrested as an accessory to Yin."

Shawn meets the detective's eye for a moment and there is a spark of silent communication between them that is gone entirely too soon.

"When you say noon-"

Lassiter doesn't reply and fums away to join his partner.

"We do need your statement, Mr Spencer," Vick reminds him, far more kindly than her subordinate.

"And I will be more than happy to give it, Chief, but I'm not supposed to be talking right now."

"Alright then. But soon," she insists.

"Soon," he agrees. Gus is happy to note that he sounds sincere.

A paramedic comes around and checks Shawn's oxygen levels before announcing that he's free to go. He warns him that his throat is going to be sore for a few days and urges him to seek medical attention if he finds he's having trouble breathing, but Shawn doesn't seem to be paying much attention to him. He's clearly eager to go and Gus is eager to get him away from the crime scene. Despite the careful act his friend is putting up, there is no way that he's unmoved by what happened.

They get back on the blueberry and Shawn settles in the passenger seat, apparently too worn out to do much talking. Gus has no idea when he last slept, but it's obvious he'd been working on this case for quite some time. He doesn't give Gus an address on which he wants to be dropped off, so he just drives him home -to his home. There is no way he is going to let him out of his sight unless he specifically asks to be left alone, and even then, Gus is going to put up a fight.

Shawn dozes off as they drive but wakes up when Gus parks in front of his place. He makes absolutely no comment when he sees where they are and walks ahead of his friend up the stairs and into the apartment. Once inside he walks straight to the bathroom and it's not long before Gus hears the sound of the shower being turned on.

They've done this -or a version of this- enough times that Shawn has a bag with a few toiletries under Gus's sink (he's very peculiar about what products he uses on his hair) and he knows where the clean towels are, so Gus doesn't bother with those. He does go to his dresser and gets a pair of sweatpants and a clean shirt for him to wear that he leaves by the door. He then grabs a few blankets and an extra pillow and lays them on the couch.

It's late and Gus hasn't eaten all day, but for once he's not thinking about food. He goes to the kitchen to make himself something to drink.

He's spent the last couple of days wishing with every fibre of his being that Shawn would just show up but not really expecting that he would. But he did. In true Shawn fashion, obviously, unannounced, unexpected. Where he was coming from, he didn't say; how long he'd be staying for, only he knew; what his plans were while he was here, no idea. As was usually the case, Shawn brought with him more questions than answers and while Gus wouldn't normally stress over this, used as he is to his friends ways, he does stress this time.

In some ways, nothing has changed. Shawn is still Shawn and he sounds like Shawn and talking to him feels like talking to Shawn. But then the silence sets around them -a deafening silence that Gus is not used to and in no ways prepared for, and that's when he'll remember that they are still, possibly, technically in a fight. And Shawn might still very well leave again.

What would usually happen after Shawn's return was that the two friends would immediately pick up where they had left off. No embarrassing heart to heart or anything of the kind. Shawn would insert himself back into Gus's life as if he had never been gone at all. That is not an option this time, because where they had left things last time was truly a horrible place. And they had to talk about it. Gus needed to tell Shawn that he truly hated Abigail for what she had made him do, but he loved him and he wanted him in his life, even if he was doing whatever he was doing in Africa and he wasn't a detective anymore.

Shawn finds him in the kitchen nursing a cup of hot chocolate. Now that the last traces of adrenaline he has been running on have left his body he looks truly exhausted. Had Gus made up his mind to talk to him (which he hasn't anyway), he would have changed it back. Shawn is in no condition to have a heart to heart right now.

"Hungry?" he offers after a short stretch of silence.

"Not really, no," Shawn admits. "Just a bit thirsty." Before Gus can move, he's already in front of the fridge, pouring himself a glass of water. Gus sees his eyes moving slightly, committing to memory all of the fridge's contents as it's his habit before closing the door. He hovers anxiously at the appliance then, as if he were unsure if he's allowed sit at the table, which is just wrong. Shawn has spent more time at Gus's house than he has anywhere else he's lived in. "Gus, I need to tell you something," he finally says, meeting his eyes across the room.

Gus shifts uncomfortably on his chair. "Shawn, you don't-" he tries.

"Yes, I do," he insists after taking a sip of his water. "This is not going to be easy, but there is something you have to know and I feel I should be the one to tell you. Okay?"

Gus can think of a dozen things Shawn can say to him and he's not looking forward to hearing any of them, particularly not this soon. He's not ready for round two.

"Alright," he accepts nonetheless. "Go ahead."

Shawn takes a deep breath and fidgets slightly for a few moments, signaling that what he has to say is truly troubling to him. Gus braces himself for the worse.

Three seconds tick away and then-

"I can't believe that you're using vanilla scented soap!" Shawn says, producing the offending bar from his pocket. "Really, Gus? I smell like icecream!"

Relief washes over Gus like the AC kicking in on a particularly warm day. Because of course Shawn would comment on his choice of soap, because that is what he does -what they do: they call each other out on their questionable choices. Shawn has been in Gus's apartment all of half an hour and has probably already made a list of everything his friend has done that he doesn't approve of, so now he is going to comment on each and every one of them.

"It pairs nicely with my cocoa butter, Shawn," he returns in his usual manner, snapping his friend's name in slight exasperation.

And it is in that moment that Gus realizes that they are not in a fight anymore. They will have to talk about what happened nine months ago and Shawn will have to tell him what his plans are (which he is not going to like, but he is going to have to deal with it), but they are going to be fine. They always are.

They don't talk much that night, Shawn's exhaustion too obvious to be ignored. Gus can tell that he is as reticent as he feels to call it a night, but one of them has to be the responsible adult and Gus will be damn if he lets Shawn be that man. So after he yawns for the third time in five minutes, his host finally insists that he he goes to sleep.

Because this is Shawn, he tries to tell him his fine, he's not tired, he doesn't want to go to bed, but of course he's down before Gus has crossed the room.

Sleep is restless that night and more than once Gus is jolted awake and has to actively fight the urge to check that his guest is still where he has left him, because he's terrified that Shawn will be gone by morning -or, worse still, that he will wake up to find out that he isn't really back at all. But he doesn't do it.

Whatever might be, will be.

However, when he does get up the next morning he wishes he had heard his instincts, because Shawn is no longer on his couch, though the crumpled bedding on top of it confirm that he was there at some point. Gus is pleased to realize that he is more angry than disappointed at his absence, which is a good sign. So his friend has decided to revert back to his eighteen year old self. Fine. He'll give him an earful the next time he calls (because he knows that this time he will call).

He nearly jumps out of his skin when he steps into his kitchen and finds Shawn sitting on the window ledge, face turned away and chest moving raggedly. He turns when he hears a noise and his expression turns slightly bashful.

"Are you alright?" Gus asks in a panicked tone. He crosses the room quickly and extends his arms as if he's expecting his friend to collapse at any moment.

"I'm perfectly fine, Gus," he replies. His voice is far hoarser than the day before and Gus is already tracing the quickest road to the hospital in his mind. "I just needed fresh air," he explains.

"There's a window in the living room," he points out.

"I also needed food," his friend counters with a smile, gesturing to the bowl of cereal that sits besides him. "I haven't eaten since breakfast yesterday and it's still like mid morning for me."

Gus is about to insist that he lets him drive him to the hospital for a quick check-up when something he's said clicks into place.

Mid morning.

He's been operating under the assumption that Shawn had come all the way from Uganda. Since it's just past seven in the morning in Santa Barbara, if he were still on Ugandan time, he'd be ten hours ahead -that is, five in the afternoon, and not even Shawn can consider that mid morning. So his friend has to have come from somewhere in the east coast, where he had spent a significant enough time for him to get used to the time zone.

Gus hasn't been expecting this. Though experience has shown him that he shouldn't expect anything when it came to Shawn, this is coming so far out of the left field that Gus thinks that nothing is ever going to surprise him ever again.

"What happened to Abigail, Shawn?"

"Last I heard, she was in Uganda," he replies evasively.

"And when did you last hear?"

Shawn sighs and it sounds so raspy that Gus momentarily considers putting a pin on their conversation and going to the hospital.

"Gus-" Shawn begins.

"No, you owe me an explanation, Shawn," Gus insists. He hasn't meant to snap, but it's been nine months of radio silence.

The silence stretches between them for a while. Finally, Shawn seems to come to a decision.

"Okay, fine," he says at last. "I will tell you this once and then we are never going to talk about it again, okay?"

That is more than fair. Gus wants nothing more than to put this behind them.

"Did you even go to Uganda?"

"I made it halfway there," Shawn admits. And then, in true Shawn fashion, he adds: "That's Dallas, isn't it? Texas is about halfway between Santa Barbara and Uganda, right?"

"The halfway point between California and Uganda is somewhere in Ireland," Gus points out.

"How in the name of Curt Smith could you possibly know that?"

"I like geography, Shawn. So, Dallas-"

Shawn sighs again, slightly disappointed that his friend didn't take the bait. He turns around, either to breathe in the cool air coming from the opened window or to avoid his friend's gaze is anyone's guess.

"It didn't strike me until we landed in Dallas for our layover," he explains. "I- You more than anyone know that I wasn't myself that week. I was- scared, I guess." He winces and Gus knows how much it costs him to admit that out loud, even to the man who has known his practically his whole life.

"I opened up Psych because it was fun and easy. Having a psycho-killer singling me out was anything but. Yang taking my mom was awful enough, Gus, but what Yin did-" he drifts off and Gus knows that he's relieving that day with perfect clarity.

"I know," he assures him. And he does know. He was there for it, he's seen the absolute heartache in Shawn's eyes when he had realized that he would have to choose between two women he cared deeply about and that either one or possibly both of them could die. Because of him. Because he loved them. "I know."

Half a minute goes by without another word spoken.

"Abigail offered me an out, and after two days being two steps behind a psychopath I just took it, which -as you so accurately pointed out at the time- was ridiculos."

"I never blamed you," Gus says and then, seeing the knowing look his friend sends him over his shoulder, he clarifies, "Fine, I didn't blame you at first. You did turn into a big jerk pretty soon."

At another time, Shawn might have made a comment about defending his woman's honor. But he is trying to get this whole thing over with quickly, so he just shrugs. Gus appreciates the effort as he's not looking forward to dragging this any longer than he absolutely needs to.

"Here's what I don't get, though," the pharmaceutical rep says after a few moments. "You said you came to your senses when you were in Texas. I know you weren't in speaking terms with anyone back then, but Lassiter went looking for you three days after the -thing. That's when we found out you were gone, or maybe lying low somewhere. At any rate, it couldn't have taken you more than a week to see reason, but you've been gone for nine months. Care to fill in those blanks?"

"Abigail wanted me to give up on a whole huge part of myself, which I eventually realized I couldn't do. I'm always going to go chasing after the psychopaths, even before I opened up Psych I was calling in tips for the police in whichever town I happened to be in. I can't stop doing that anymore than I can stop having great hair. But I never wanted anyone else to get in trouble because of me -or at least, not that much trouble- and if there was one thing that Yin and Yang taught me it was there was no way I could keep everyone I cared about safe if I'd stay. So, after breaking things off with Abigail, I decided to stay away. Thought it'd be best for everyone," he says the last part matter of factly, as if he were announcing his decision to have pizza for lunch. Gus would have rolled his eyes if he weren't so familiar with his thought process by now.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Shawn slides down from the ledge and faces him head on as he smiles that smile of his.

"You would have talked sense into me."

The way he says it, it's obvious he knows Gus would have succeeded, which they both know is right. Though at first glance Shawn is a force of nature -a hurricane, raging across town and leaving nothing but destruction in its wake- the truth is that he's far more malleable than what he likes to pretend. Gus and, to a slightly lesser degree, Henry, both have the power to put a stop to the worse of his ideas. As long as Shawn knows this (and it's obvious from the look on his eyes that he does), his friend doesn't need to point it out.

"So you've be travelling the country ever since?"

"I was in New York when I heard the news. I hopped on the first plane out and here I am. Got in yesterday morning, spent the day doing a bit of digging before I went to the police. I would have asked you to join me, but couldn't risk Lassie getting wind of my whereabouts before my grand entrance, could I?"

"Any entrance would have been grand in Lassiter's eyes. He almost had me arrested when I told him I had no idea where you were."

"Really? So he does care-"

A coughing fit interrupts whatever else he was going to say and Gus goes back to worrying about his health.

"I'm fine," Shawn assures him a few moments later. "The paramedics warned you this would happen."

"They also warned you you should seek medical attention if you couldn't breathe."

"I can breathe. It's not as easy as I remember it being from a few hours ago, but oxygen is coming in. I swear, buddy, you're not about to have a beautiful corpse in your hands."

"You better not die on me, Shawn, because I'm not having that conversation with your dad. Where is he, anyway?" he asks suddenly, realizing that Henry had not tried to insert himself in the case, which was odd.

"Out of town," Shawn explains. "I talked to him yesterday afternoon because I needed his take on something I'd found out."

"Did he know-" he trails off, not needing to say the words for his friend to know what he means.

"He had no idea that I was in the country, but he wasn't surprised either. That didn't stop him from giving me an earful, though."

So, Henry had expected his son to come back when he was needed. He'd had far more faith than Gus, apparently, much to his everlasting shame. They've been friends practically their whole lives, he should have trusted him. He vows right then and there never to doubt him again.

Shawn makes some random comment about the contents of his fridge then and Gus knows that the subject has been dropped, never to be picked up again. He's glad. He can't wait for things to go back to normal.

It's several hours later when Gus finally pulls in the SBPD parking lot and he can't help but wondering why it took them this long to get here. He'd awoken at seven in the morning, as usual. He'd had a long talk with Shawn and an even longer breakfast, but he'd been showered and dressed by nine thirty. Shawn had dozed off for a while as he'd been in the bathroom, but they should have been able to make it to the station by ten, ten thirty at the most.

It is now five minutes to twelve and Gus couldn't for the life of him tell you why they are only just getting here.

If he has to lay the blame somewhere, it will be at Shawn's feet, and not just because that's his default move. His friend has had him driving across town running errands that, in hindsight, don't seem as urgent as he made them sound. Driving to his father house to get some of his things before he returned seemed logical; finding a new place to live was the kind of thing that probably could wait till the afternoon, but Shawn had still taken him to check a few places out -and he would have kept at it, hadn't the far more responsible man not reminded him insistently that he was supposed to be at the station giving his statement regarding the events of the day before.

"You know what I haven't had in a while?" Shawn asks before Gus could descend the vehicle. "Quatro Quesos Dos Fritos. What do you say, buddy? Are you up for some fried deliciousness?"

Gus can't deny that his mouth waters at the thought, but it is neither time nor place for food.

"Shawn, it's nearly noon!" he whines.

"Exactly. Time for lunch!"

The young man regards his friend for a moment. Shawn looks perfectly like himself -a bit tired, maybe, and his breath is certainly a bit coarser, but he doesn't look troubled enough to justify his stalling for time. And yet he has to be, because that is exactly what he is doing. He thinks about what's waiting for them at the station. The Chief will be delighted to have her psychic back, that's a given; Lassiter has talked a good game, but it's obvious to Gus (and therefore it has to be even more obvious to Shawn) that he's happy to have him back, even if it just to have someone to complain about and pin his frustrations on; and Juliet-

Well, Juliet might be a bit of a delicate subject. As far as Gus knows, Shawn hasn't talked to her since she was rescued from the clock tower after Yin's first appearance, and even then it wasn't that deep of a talk. She had ended up there due to her connection to the psychic and nothing else, so interactions between the two of them were bound to be uncomfortable even before Shawn took off for destinations unknown with another girl. Supposedly.

"Shawn-" he begins carefully, unsure of how to broach the subject delicately.

Gus has spent quite a bit of time with Juliet these past few days and while she had been understandably moved by the whole ordeal, she didn't seem to harbor any hostile feelings towards their mutual friend. In fact, going by what little Gus had noticed the day before at the station and later outside the Rotmensens's home, she'd looked very nearly relieved to have her favourite consultant back for at least one more case. Under normal circumstances, the pseudo psychic would have noticed this, but his friend knows it's a bit complicated, so he might need a slight push.

Shawn surprises him by smiling before he has figured out how to start.

"Gus, you know very well that I can't show my face at the station before noon!" he explains cheerfully.

"Lassiter said he'd have you arrested if you didn't," he reminds him, though it feels unnecessary. Shawn has to know this.

"Exactly!" At Gus's blank face, he elaborates. "When have I ever done what Lassie tells me to do?"

"Never that I can remember," he acknowledges.

"So I can't start now! How would that look, hmm? I'm gone for nine months and suddenly I'm this model citizen that bows down to Lassie's authority? No, that would be suspicious. If I were a detective, I'd have myself arrested for that."

"I hardly think that showing up at the station thirty seconds before the deadline means bowing down to Lassiter's authority, Shawn," he points out.

"Trust me, buddy, Lassie wants me to be late."

"That might be true, but only because it would give him an excuse to have you arrested. I'm not bailing you out, Shawn," he warns, getting out of the car because it is almost noon and they are already late.

Shawn takes his time getting out and he takes his time joining Gus and it's three minutes after twelve when they finally make it into the station. Ever the worrier, Gus is expecting Lassiter to be waiting for them at the front desk, handcuffs at the ready, but he's not. Shawn greets and is greeted by everyone they meet with a smile or even a pat on the shoulder from time to time. He's clearly enjoying the attention and while Gus offers him the performative roll of his eyes the situation calls for, the truth is he's quite delighted to see his friend so at ease.

They walk straight to the bullpen and Shawn makes a beeline to Juliet's desk.

"Hey, Jules!" he calls happily.

She looks up from her paperwork and shoots her friends an open smile.

"Shawn!" A quick glance at her watch and then: "You're late." This was said with more amusement than condemnation and Shawn's smile grows even bigger at that.

"Jules, a psychic is never late, nor is he early, he arrives precisely when he means to."

"Shawn, the correct quote is that 'a wizard' is never late," Gus points out.

"I've heard it both ways," he says dismissively.

"Be that as it may, Lassiter warned you he'd have you arrested if you didn't show up before noon," she reminds him.

"We would have been here sooner, Juliet, but Shawn wasn't feeling all that well this morning. Smoke inhalation and all that, remember?"

Juliet's expression falls slightly and her eyes narrow as she takes in Shawn's appearance.

"How are you feeling, Shawn?"

"I'm fine," he assures her. "Gus just likes to worry."

She doesn't look all too convinced, but Lassiter's arrival just then prevents her from digging any deeper.

"Hey, Lass!" Shawn calls happily.

The Head Detective eyes him for a moment, evidently trying to decide if there is any point in pointing out his tardiness or his uncalled for cheerfulness. Apparently he decides against it.

"Okay, let's get this over with," he says. "Spencer, come with me. Guster, stick around. I'll come find you if I need anything from you."

"He's just a witness, Carlton," Juliet reminds him as he watches her partner lead the way to the interrogation room they are going to be using.

"And he almost suffocated last night ," Gus adds.

A reluctant wave over Lassiter's head is the only indication they get that they have been heard.

Gus and Juliet remain standing by her desk for a moment and then she smiles at him.

"Wanna watch?"

"Do I!"

Shawn's statement is surprisingly straightforward and filled with facts. Gus listens in something of an awe as his friend tells the Head Detective about going to see Yang at the Asylum (of course the police had tried that but she had refused to talk to anyone but Shawn) and talking to Allison's roommates who had inspired him to look into professor Rotmensen. For a brief moment Gus is worried that Shawn is giving the whole game away, but he also understands the importance of doing things by the book on this one. Yin can't get out on a technicality.

To his credit, Lassiter doesn't zero in on Shawn's seemingly unusual tactics and Shawn doesn't comment on his lack of comment. There appears to be some sort of compromise between both men for this one case, which is good.

"Has he said anything about his plans?" Juliet asks when Shawn is nearing the part of the story she knows about. They have viewed the interrogation in silence so far, but apparently her curiosity is too great to be ignored forever.

"He hasn't said anything, but I thinks he's staying," he tells her honestly.

"I'm glad," she whispers, not meeting his eye.

Gus feels just a hint of unease in the pit of his stomach. Though he has sworn to himself the night before that he would never, ever, under no circumstances allow a woman to come between him and Shawn, he likes Juliet too much to allow his friend to continue to ignore his feelings for her forever. These two will have to talk eventually and they'll have to decide whether they want to give themselves a chance or not. They can't live in this perpetual will-they-won't-they state forever.

Not yet, though, Gus reminds himself. There's still plenty of time before he has to say anything.

"And that was when the spirits said: 'Hold on! How did Yin snick into a safe house guarded by half the SBPD?' The answer, as you now know, is that he didn't, obviously. Allison was in on it from the beginning. Is she talking?"

Lassiter seems to be debating whether he should tell him or not, but since Shawn is the one who figured it out in the first place, he decides that he's earned it.

"Not yet, but the psychiatrist that talked to her saw some red flags. You might actually be correct about this, Spencer."

Shawn just smiles at his favorite head detective.

"You sound so surprised, Lassie."

"Get on with it, Spencer. What happened after you went back upstairs?"

Gus and Juliet listen from the viewing room as Shawn relates how closed he came to dying not a full day ago. Except that he doesn't say it. He plays it down as much as he can and if his voice weren't so raspy and he wasn't relaying his tale to two seasoned detectives and a man who had known him since he was five, they might have believed him. But they all know how close they had come to losing him.

"He's alright," Juliet reminds Gus placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. His sudden unease must be showing on his face, then.

"You'd think I'd be used by now," Gus muses to himself even though his words come out loud enough for Juliet to catch. "I've lost count of how many times he almost died sometime in high school. I keep telling myself that nothing he can do will surprise me again. And then he goes running into a burning building," he chuckles mirthlessly. "That man will be the death of me, I know."

"He's only protecting those he loves," Juliet assures him.

"And we protect him right back," Gus admits and it's obvious he's including her in both of those plurals. She makes no comment about it.

"Very well, Spencer, I think that should be enough to put that psycho away for a long long time," Lassiter eventually says. "Of course, we already had enough thanks to a nifty little thing called good old fashioned police work, but I suppose that the DA will appreciate your effort."

"Now, come on, Lassie, don't pretend you didn't miss me. And I heard you talking to my EMT yesterday: you were worried about me."

"Don't fool yourself, Spencer, I was only thinking about myself. A crime scene with a dead body is that much harder to process and I had a rather exhausting couple of days. I just wanted to go home and sleep."

Shawn is not the least bit perturbed by Lassiter's coldness. Then again, the whole thing sounded kind of forced even to Gus.

"Come on, Lassie, it's just you and me down here: can't you admit that you are just a tiny bit happy that I'm back?"

Lassiter hesitates for a moment.

"It's been… quiet around here," he finally admits and it seems to cost him a great deal to utter that simple word. "And before you get any ideas, ninety nine times out of a hundred, quiet is actually good."

"Did you hear that, Gus?" Shawn says happily, meeting his friend eye over Lassiter's shoulder and across the one way window. How he even knew they were there is anyone's guess. "I'll just have to ask the spirits for extra spunk on the next case."

Lassiter's horrified eyes move from Shawn to the mirror and then back again.

"How did-" he seems to decide mid-sentence that there is no point in asking Shawn how he does the things he does so he changes the question "You're staying?"

"Well, of course. How can I not when I hear that your life has been an absolute wreck without me around?"

The detective raises from his chair, muttering as he does.

"One of these days, Spencer- I swear one of these days I will shoot you."

Shawn's smile seems to be just begging him to try.

Juliet looks about ready to burst into the room then, but Lassiter's ringtone seem to awaken him from his murderous haze.

"Head Detective Lassiter- Oh, hello, Spencer," he sends a look full of hatred towards the young psychic. "Yes, he's here. Just finished taking his statement. No, I- And why wou- Okay, fine," he pulls the phone away from his ear and his glare just deepens. "Spencer, why is your father calling you to my phone?" he demands.

"Probably because Gus left his in the car," Shawn answers simply as he reaches out to take the phone. The detective hesitates for a moment, apparently decides he doesn't want to be caught between two Spencers, hands the device over and leaves them to it.

He meets with the partner and Gus in the viewing room.

"How do you do it, Guster?" he asks the younger man. "How do you put up with him?"

"It's like you said: life is far too quiet without him."

Lassiter simply huffs and puffs for a while but his two companions seem to find it more endearing than anything else. That doesn't help with his mood.

"I think we have a pretty solid case, don't we?" Juliet asks her partner.

Her effort works. In an instant Lassiter has forgotten all about the thorn on his side that is Shawn Spencer and he's full on cop mode.

This goes on for a few minutes, until Juliet looks up and realizes that Shawn is still sitting in the interrogation room, phone on the table before him and a horrified expression on his features.

"What happened?" She asks to no one in particular.

Gus doesn't stay in the room long enough to answer her. He's by his friend's side before the last word has fully left her lips.

"Shawn!" He places a hand on his shoulder and forces him to look at him. His eyes are completely unreadable, which makes Gus's blood pressure sky rocket. "Talk to me, Shawn, what is it?"

Shawn blinks his eyes a few times as if to rid himself from the fog that is clouding his thoughts.

"My- my father," he begins.

Gus meets Lassiter's eye and is only mildly relieved to realize that he's as confused as he feels. Henry had talked to the detective five seconds before talking to Shawn and he had sounded fine. It is unlikely something had happened in between. And yet, something must have.

"There was-" deep breath. Gus squeezes his shoulder reassuringly. "There was a woman in my father's room," Shawn finally chokes out. He looks up at Gus and his friend sees as the horror melts away and is replace by disgust. Gus sighs in relief.

Lassiter waits for three heartbeats to make sure that Shawn isn't going to follow that statement up with something like '-and she shot him' (which to him would be the only acceptable reason for such an act from the so called psychic) and throws his hands up in exasperation.

"For God's sake, Spencer-" he begins what is sure to be a very lengthy tirade, but apparently there was a follow up to Shawn's statement and it is as troubling as they should have expected.

"I think it was my mother."

Gus nearly falls face first to the ground as his hand slips from his friend's shoulder.

"Your mother?" he repeats. Shawn nods. "In your father's room?" Another nod. "You think they are- you know- doing it?"

Shawn jumps from his chair as if he was electrocuted.

"Gus, wh- aghhhhh." He rubs his eyes as if to erase something he'd seen. "Why would you say that?"

"Why else would they be together? In a hotel- Are they in a hotel or do you think they're in your mother's house?"

"Aghhhhh, Gus, stop it! God, I think my brain is blind."

Gus is having way too much fun with this. Though he can sympathize with the horror his friend must be feeling at the thought of his divorced sharing a room, the opportunity to tease him is far too sweet to pass on.

"Do you think they will get back together?" he insists. "Hey, your mother is not that old, is she? You might get the little sibling you always wanted after all!"

He's crossed a line. Shawn's head snaps to attention and the look he send him that tells him he's going to regret what he's just said.

"Hey, remember when I slept with your sister?" he says, his voice higher than usual but not wavering. "Good times."

Gus's smile slips from his face.

"Uncool, dude," he says offendedly.

"You reap what you sow, buddy," Shawn challenges, looking slightly less sickly now that he has something else to focus other than the idea of whatever it was his parents were doing behind closed doors.

"It's not the same, Shawn. It's not as if I've slept with your mother."

Shawn's eyes grow so big that is a miracle that they don't fall from their sockets. Both friends just stare at each other in horror for a moment and then:

"Duuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuude!"

"I'm soooooooooooorry! I don't know where that came from."

"Why would you say that?"

"I don't know! I swear I don't want to sleep with your mother!"

"Aghhhhhhhhhhhh, Gus, stop talking!"

That's the moment the detectives standing by the door decide to leave them to it, both equally amused by them even though only one of them would be willing to admit it.

Neither Gus nor Shawn really notice the movement. They are too busy having a fight.

But it's not really a fight. It might be a quarrel or a spat, but not a fight.

Because Gus and Shawn don't fight.

Not anymore.

D.