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Shawn had left Santa Barbara right after graduation. Gus knew that he was going to; the only reason he had stayed for that long was because his mother insisted that he graduate from high school. The tension between Shawn and his dad had accelerated so much that Shawn practically lived at Gus’ house the last few months of school.

Shawn hadn’t even stayed for the after-graduation parties. He had stayed long enough to say good-bye to Gus before putting on his helmet and riding away on his motorcycle.

He sent postcards every time he stopped at a new place, so they came pretty frequently. Gus would read them, laugh at whatever random thing that his best friend had written, and then he would place it in a shoebox, until he filled one up. He was up to two and a half shoeboxes before Shawn finally came home to Santa Barbara.

At first, Gus had no idea how long Shawn would be there. He knew that Shawn loved his bike, the open road and traveling the world, and he also knew that Santa Barbara didn’t hold all good memories for his friend. His parents had divorced, his grandfather had died, and his father had arrested him for stealing a car to teach him a lesson all in the grand city of Santa Barbara, California.

It wasn’t until Shawn had settled down with Psych for over a year, that Gus started breathing a little easier. His friend had finally put down roots; he was prepared to stay for the long haul.

Even so, Gus could tell that Shawn had changed in the nine or so years that they had been apart. He was still trouble-prone, inappropriately humorous at the best of times, and still wouldn’t consider becoming a cop even if somebody paid him a million dollars. But there was something different about him, and it took Gus a long time to figure out what had changed.

At first, he just thought that it was the distance that had been between them. Gus had only seen Shawn seven times since he left Santa Barbara, and his friend had called just enough times that Gus wouldn’t drop everything and start looking for him. There were a lot of things that happened to both of them in those years; they no longer knew everything about each other.

But the distance didn’t explain everything about what was different with Shawn. It took him awhile to notice, and they had been working with the Police Department a few years before Gus even began to pick up on it.

Shawn had matured.

When the thought first came to Gus’ mind, he rejected it immediately. Anybody with half a brain would think that maturity and Shawn Spencer were obviously as different as Batman and the Joker. Shawn was loud and obnoxious; never thinking of how his actions would affect others, and went through life as if he didn’t have a care in the world. It was rare for Shawn to drop the mask long enough for even Gus to see the person underneath the fake psychic visions and never ending speeches about how under-appreciated pineapples were.

Even though he tried to banish the thought of Shawn’s maturity—and how weird did that sound?—it refused to leave his mind. After that, it was almost like he had somehow gotten Shawn’s observational skills or maybe it was due to the fact that he watched Shawn closer than usual in the next couple of weeks.

He noticed how Shawn would often insist on stopping for donuts when they were on their way to the police station and buy enough for all the cops on duty, with a joke about how cops and donuts always went together. He remembered how he had caught a stammering Shawn at the grocery store, helping his elderly neighbor buy food. Shawn had brushed it off with a joke, and plans to meet at the office, and Gus didn’t think of it anymore with the exception of a fleeting thought that it was a strange thing for Shawn to do.

He began to notice that he would come to the office sometimes and find that the fridge was stocked with all his favorite foods, and when Shawn would use the Blueberry, he would actually fill the tank before bringing it back. Whenever Gus would ask him about it, Shawn would brush him off, as he always did. But Gus was convinced that he was on the right track.

The last thing that Gus noticed—and the one that convinced him the most—was the fact that Shawn not only stuck with Psych, he loved it. The detective agency was the first job that he had ever kept for more than a couple weeks. It wasn’t just because he was fulfilling his childhood dream of being a detective with his best friend at his side, it was because he had finally found something that he was good at, and he was helping people. He was helping to catch the bad guys, and making the streets of Santa Barbara a better place.

The question that began to nag at Gus after he made these observations was why? Why would Shawn intentionally be obnoxious and act like he didn’t care? Why would he hide the real part of himself that people rarely got a glimpse of under random facts and bad jokes? Gus knew Shawn better than anyone and he still couldn’t come up with an answer.

Gus looked over at Shawn, who was sitting in front of the television with popcorn in one hand, and a pineapple smoothie in the other. He got up from his desk, settled in the chair next to Shawn and reached for the popcorn.

He didn’t even take a breath before he opened his mouth, because he knew that if he did he wouldn’t even get the words out of his mouth. “Why can’t you just act like you are, Shawn?”

It didn’t come out quite as he intended, but Shawn didn’t look offended, didn’t offer him anymore then a glance. “You start a conversation without me, Gus? ‘Cause you know I’m not actually psychic.”

Shawn often reminded Gus of that fact, as if he thought that Gus could actually get lost in the false reality that he had created. Sometimes Gus got worried that Shawn would get lost in it, but he knew that he would never forget that Shawn wasn’t really psychic.

“Shawn, I know you better than you know yourself, and I know it took me awhile, but you’re not what you want everybody to think you are.”

“What, a really handsome guy with awesome hair?”

Gus rolled his eyes, but refused to give up. “You’ve changed, Shawn, but you still act like the immature teenager you were when you were seventeen. Why?”

Shawn scoffed. “I was not immature when I was seventeen. I was someone who really enjoyed life with a dad who liked to shove me in trunks for survival training. Considering everything, I think I turned out pretty good.”

“You were loud,” Gus said.

“I brought life to a room.”

“Obnoxious.”

“But not annoying,” Shawn shot back with a smug smile.

“It’s the same thing, Shawn.” Gus rolled his eyes.

Shawn smirked and turned back to the television. “Hey, this is the good part!”

Gus followed suit and sighed. He didn’t even know why he had tried.

---

It wasn’t until a couple weeks later when they were walking across the beach licking ice cream cones that Shawn start talking out of the blue. “I act the way I do because…” He paused and Gus could see that he was about to backpedal and he willed silently that Shawn would continue. After a while he did. “Because I’m afraid that even if I did become the man that my dad wants me to be, it still won’t be enough.”

Gus wasn’t surprised that Henry was involved somehow. Shawn and Henry were the image of dysfunctional, and Gus wondered sometimes why they both didn’t go insane because of it. Gus had seen progress in the years since Shawn had been back, but sometimes it still seemed as if there was a giant chasm between the two of them.

“I think your dad is starting to get used to you, Shawn.” He didn’t put any effort into the tease, but Shawn smiled anyway.

“Maybe.”

The conversation was over, and he knew that Shawn would never mention it again, but Gus had gotten his answer. He filed the information away, knowing that he had gained yet another piece to the puzzle that was his best friend.


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