Psych ficlet, On a Need to Know Basis, Gus/Henry
Title: On a Need to Know Basis
Words: 723
Fandom: Psych
Notes: No specific setting. Gus/Henry implied. I was trying to go more for the confusion of the reader rather than the confusion of the characters, though that’s there, too. For fiction_stadium.
“Dude, I’ve got it. Jules.”
Gus pursed his lips and stared at the red light.
“Totally Jules.”
“It’s not Jules.”
“Chief Vick?”
“No.”
“Lassy?”
The glare Gus shot him could’ve wreaked havoc on global warming.
“Mrs. DeWitt?”
“Our sixth grade math teacher-who was older than my grandmother when we were in sixth grade? Who was around when the abacus was cutting edge? Are you serious?”
“Gus, you know those abacuses-abacai? Abacuses-developed great finger strength. Imagine that.”
Gus shuddered, but then, so did Shawn.
“Who else would you be ashamed to tell me you were dating?”
“I’m not ashamed.”
“Way to act like you have to be. Gus, if you’re dating the channel 5 sports guy, I’ll still support you.” He brought his fist up to his chest earnestly. “You will always be my Gus.”
“I’m not doing this, Shawn.” He his the breaks harder than he normally would. “Now are you going to question your suspect or do I have to do it myself?”
“Gus, you know Mister Squeakers doesn’t appreciate it when you take his credit.”
“He’s a guinea pig, Shawn.”
“I can’t help if it animals have such close bonds with the spiritual world.” He moved his hands like he was putting on a mystical act for the police instead of for Gus.
“If we were in Ecuador, Squeakers would be dinner.” He jerked the car door open and slammed it shut behind him.
Shawn covered the cage with his hand. “Mister Squeakers does not like to be reminded of the plight of his people!”
Gus glared at him over the roof of the car before stomping to the front door.
----------
With San Jose disappearing in the rear view mirror, Shawn lifted the cage to his ear. What’s that, Mister Squeakers? Yeah, I want to know who Gus is ashamed to tell me he’s sleeping with, too, but he just wont spill.”
“I am not ashamed, Shawn.”
“Oh, Gus, of course you are. If you weren’t, you would’ve told me already.”
“It’s personal, Shawn.”
“Dude, who you’re doing the horizontal and sometimes vertical mambo with is totally something you tell your best friend.”
“Keep this up and you may not have to worry about it for much longer.”
Shawn went silent for all of two miles.
“Brianna Davis!”
“She has an extra toe!”
“In some cultures that may be very alluring. A sign of plentiful bounty.”
“In what cultures would Brianna Davis’s extra toe and flip flops be a turn on?”
“I don’t know, but I’m sure somewhere.”
Gus turned up the volume on the stereo as loud as he could stand it.
Shawn turned it down. “You know Mister Squeakers has sensitive hearing.”
“Guinea pig, Shawn.”
“He still has feelings, Gus!”
----------
“Shawn, it’s 5:30 in the morning. What the hell are you doing banging on my door?”
“Because if I tapped gently you wouldn’t have woken up. Why are you whispering?”
“I’m not whispering.”
“Yeah, you are. Oh, Gus, is the lucky lady here right now?” He craned his neck to look over Gus’ shoulder.
“No.”
“Lucky fella?”
“Shawn, go away and come back at a reasonable hour.”
“Definitely a fella.” He pushed past Gus into the apartment and picked up a discarded baseball hat. “Unless you’ve taken to cheering for UC Santa Barbra. My dad can’t be rubbing off on you that much.”
Gus stood completely still, as if he were expecting a wild animal to attack him.
That was when the realization seemed to dawn on Shawn. He dropped the hat like it was on fire. “My dad?” He pointed back to the bedroom. “And he’s-right now-”
Gus crossed his arms defensively. “I told you to drop it.”
“That doesn’t make it right!”
“Can we please discuss this later?”
“No,” Shawn said immediately. “Let’s just never discuss this. Ever, ever again. Let’s just pretend this conversation never happened.”
Gus focused on a spot over Shawn’s shoulder. Shawn did not turn around to see his father standing right behind him, having emerged from his best friend’s bedroom.
“You know it’s not going to work like that, Shawn.”
“Now is really not the time, Dad.”
Henry pushed past him, grabbed his hat off the floor, and looked only at Gus. “You’re right.” He left. When the door closed behind him, Gus looked pained.
Words: 723
Fandom: Psych
Notes: No specific setting. Gus/Henry implied. I was trying to go more for the confusion of the reader rather than the confusion of the characters, though that’s there, too. For fiction_stadium.
“Dude, I’ve got it. Jules.”
Gus pursed his lips and stared at the red light.
“Totally Jules.”
“It’s not Jules.”
“Chief Vick?”
“No.”
“Lassy?”
The glare Gus shot him could’ve wreaked havoc on global warming.
“Mrs. DeWitt?”
“Our sixth grade math teacher-who was older than my grandmother when we were in sixth grade? Who was around when the abacus was cutting edge? Are you serious?”
“Gus, you know those abacuses-abacai? Abacuses-developed great finger strength. Imagine that.”
Gus shuddered, but then, so did Shawn.
“Who else would you be ashamed to tell me you were dating?”
“I’m not ashamed.”
“Way to act like you have to be. Gus, if you’re dating the channel 5 sports guy, I’ll still support you.” He brought his fist up to his chest earnestly. “You will always be my Gus.”
“I’m not doing this, Shawn.” He his the breaks harder than he normally would. “Now are you going to question your suspect or do I have to do it myself?”
“Gus, you know Mister Squeakers doesn’t appreciate it when you take his credit.”
“He’s a guinea pig, Shawn.”
“I can’t help if it animals have such close bonds with the spiritual world.” He moved his hands like he was putting on a mystical act for the police instead of for Gus.
“If we were in Ecuador, Squeakers would be dinner.” He jerked the car door open and slammed it shut behind him.
Shawn covered the cage with his hand. “Mister Squeakers does not like to be reminded of the plight of his people!”
Gus glared at him over the roof of the car before stomping to the front door.
----------
With San Jose disappearing in the rear view mirror, Shawn lifted the cage to his ear. What’s that, Mister Squeakers? Yeah, I want to know who Gus is ashamed to tell me he’s sleeping with, too, but he just wont spill.”
“I am not ashamed, Shawn.”
“Oh, Gus, of course you are. If you weren’t, you would’ve told me already.”
“It’s personal, Shawn.”
“Dude, who you’re doing the horizontal and sometimes vertical mambo with is totally something you tell your best friend.”
“Keep this up and you may not have to worry about it for much longer.”
Shawn went silent for all of two miles.
“Brianna Davis!”
“She has an extra toe!”
“In some cultures that may be very alluring. A sign of plentiful bounty.”
“In what cultures would Brianna Davis’s extra toe and flip flops be a turn on?”
“I don’t know, but I’m sure somewhere.”
Gus turned up the volume on the stereo as loud as he could stand it.
Shawn turned it down. “You know Mister Squeakers has sensitive hearing.”
“Guinea pig, Shawn.”
“He still has feelings, Gus!”
----------
“Shawn, it’s 5:30 in the morning. What the hell are you doing banging on my door?”
“Because if I tapped gently you wouldn’t have woken up. Why are you whispering?”
“I’m not whispering.”
“Yeah, you are. Oh, Gus, is the lucky lady here right now?” He craned his neck to look over Gus’ shoulder.
“No.”
“Lucky fella?”
“Shawn, go away and come back at a reasonable hour.”
“Definitely a fella.” He pushed past Gus into the apartment and picked up a discarded baseball hat. “Unless you’ve taken to cheering for UC Santa Barbra. My dad can’t be rubbing off on you that much.”
Gus stood completely still, as if he were expecting a wild animal to attack him.
That was when the realization seemed to dawn on Shawn. He dropped the hat like it was on fire. “My dad?” He pointed back to the bedroom. “And he’s-right now-”
Gus crossed his arms defensively. “I told you to drop it.”
“That doesn’t make it right!”
“Can we please discuss this later?”
“No,” Shawn said immediately. “Let’s just never discuss this. Ever, ever again. Let’s just pretend this conversation never happened.”
Gus focused on a spot over Shawn’s shoulder. Shawn did not turn around to see his father standing right behind him, having emerged from his best friend’s bedroom.
“You know it’s not going to work like that, Shawn.”
“Now is really not the time, Dad.”
Henry pushed past him, grabbed his hat off the floor, and looked only at Gus. “You’re right.” He left. When the door closed behind him, Gus looked pained.