Because of you

Chapter Nineteen

"He actually said that?" Gus questioned for what felt like the millionth time. "In those exact words?"

"More or less, yes," Shawn said, trying to keep the annoyance out of his voice.

His date with Lassie had taken place two days ago now and he'd done a good job of avoiding the detective since then. Not because of any perceived awkwardness or abrupt change in his feelings for Lassie, but simply because he required time to think, to process, the sort of things he usually threw in the wind. Further proof I'm not acting like myself? Of course, dodging Lassie was far easier than doing the same with Gus, who seemed stuck to him like glue lately. And they'd already spent time going over the date, something he'd admittedly done reluctantly.

Part of him wanted to cherish the memories, keep them locked inside and only take them out in private moments, like right as he was about to fall asleep.

Gus, however, had other ideas, and to some degree Shawn figured the interest, which seemed genuine, should have pleased him. Sure, he'd dated a handful of times since coming back home a few years ago, but all those dates were with women, any man he'd go e out with took place on his travels. Maybe he'd been trying to hide himself, it was hard to say, definitely something worth thinking about, though. At least his friend clearly loved him enough to stand by his side and fully support this crazy endeavor. Then again, Gus went along with basically every crazy thing he did, why should this be any different?

What if Lassie-face and I got married? Okay, might be jumping the gun a bit. We went on one date. Still, I hope Gus will be my best man.

Meanwhile, Gus had taken to pawing over the contents of his desk, even opening the drawers to sort through the various detritus they'd accumulated over the years. "I know it has to be here somewhere. I just know it."

"What are you looking for?"

"A thermometer."

"Why?"

"To check to see if Detective Lassiter is sick," Gus replied, giving up his search with a hard to decipher mutter about not having a thermometer despite his pharmaceutical world. "He's asking you to be crazy, it doesn't sound like him. Maybe he ate some bad seafood or perhaps there was a gas leak at the restaurant."

Shawn narrowed his eyes, only to notice the trace of Gus's sly smile. He picked up the mini Nerf gun from his desk and fired a foam dart at his best friend. His aim was impeccable, the yellow dart with its suction cup tip hitting Gus in the forehead. It stuck there for a breath, then fell to Gus's desktop.

"Did you... did..." Gus picked up the dart and examined it. He met Shawn's gaze. "You realize what this means, right?"

"What?"

Gus quickly whipped out his own Nerf gun and proceeded to lob a dart in Shawn's direction, hitting him in the chest, almost like he was Cupid. "Why, this means war, of course."

No sooner had the words left his mouth than all hell broke loose. The two of them danced around the office space, ducking behind furniture and doorways, always trying to find the best hiding place with prime advantage to take down their foe. Along with foam darts, which each of them retrieved when they started getting low on ammo, they slung silly barbs at each other, mocking one another, and letting the tension, the darkness of the last week dissipate. By the time they collpased on the sofa under the big bay window featuring the Psych logo, they were puffing for oxygen.

Gus had pudding smeared on his shirt and Shawn had popcorn in his hair.

"Are you two done?" Jules stood just inside the doorway to the office. She looked smart in her charcoal gray business suit, a peach blouse under her jacket. She wore her hair up, a bemused expression on her face. "Who wins?"

"I do," they said in unison. Gus dragged a finger through the butterscoth pudding and left a streak on Shawn's shirt. Shawn retaliated by flicking popcorn in his face.

"Should I come back at a later time?"

Shawn jumped off the couch, lighter and more upbeat than he'd been in days. "Fair Juliet, what brings you to our abode?"

"Abode? I wasn't even aware you knew that word, much less what it means," Gus quipped.

"You'll have to ignore my friend. Sometimes he forgets his manners in the presence of a lady."

"Hey," Gus grumbled.

"I'm here about the case-"

"What case?" Shawn interrupted, eyebrows raised. "There's a case? Who died?" Then he remembered his role in working with the police, the story he concocted about being psychic to avoid being seen as a suspect on a case. "I've been out of touch with the other side, all things considered. Are you telling me there's murder afoot?"

"Who murders a foot?" Gus mumbled. He'd left the sofa and was trying to make right his desk, its contents scattered in their battle.

"Yes." Juliet frowned, scrunching up her face. "I think?" She added. "Carlton left me in charge of this case and I hate to say it, but I feel like I've exhausted every other avenue. I could use your expertise, Shawn."

"Left you with a case?"

"Yeah. We were working it together when you..." Jules abruptly stopped, a touch of rose coloring her cheeks.

She need not finish the intended sentence, Shawn was fairly certain he could put the missing pieces in place. A fresh wave of guilt washed over him and he barely resisted the urge to kick himself. While he was too busy with the woah is me, as Lassie called it, there were people out there dying, their murderers getting away. Thanks to his misguided heart he'd let down his friends, in more ways than one, and who's to say the culprit in this case didn't murder again? That would be blood on his hands.

It was one thing to make an attempt on his own life and another thing entirely to place others in harm because of his selfishness.

Shawn grasped Jules by the arm. "Gus, fire up the Blueberry, it's time to get crazy. We have a murder to solve."