Psych Fic: Golf Spencer Style
Written for varietypack100 Multi-Fandom Challenge
Emma DeMarais VarietyPack100 Prompt Table
Crossposted to psychfiction
Title: Golf Spencer Style
Pairing/Characters: Gus, Shawn
Rating: PG13
Spoilers: Pilot
Summary: Prompt - Club
Notes/Warnings: Read the disclaimer on my LJ
"Dude, what is that thing?"
Gus frowned as Shawn invaded his personal space - again - this time to crowd in to look at the web site on his computer monitor.
"It's a portable golf club washer," he explained, a touch of impatience in his tone. "I'm thinking about buying one for my boss for Christmas."
"To suck up?" Shawn inquired, leaning over to take the mouse from Gus's only briefly protesting hand, putting down the keys to Gus' car in the process - the car he'd sworn he only needed for a few minutes which turned into the better part of an hour, thus Gus left bored and alone at the office waiting for his return.
"To make up for the fact that I have to disappear at odd hours because you've gotten us caught up in some crazy case that can't wait until I've finished my sales rounds." When Shawn glanced over with one of his patented Spencer looks, Gus just rolled his eyes. "Yes, to suck up."
"Thought so. Hey, check this out! It's a golf club drink dispenser that spouts liquor out of the end! Now I get why so many people play golf. They're having their own little party on the golf course! I'm so asking for one of those." He gave Gus a playful shove. "And now I see why so much so called business goes on at golf courses! I'll bet sales are great when your clients are sloshed!"
"I'll have you know all my clients are perfectly sober. Well, most of them anyway." Gus snatched the mouse back. "But I won't have any clients if I don't make nice with the boss."
"Do you really think a portable golf club washer is going to wow him?" Shawn sat on the edge of Gus' desk. "Picture him opening it up. He's going to think, 'hey is he trying to tell me something? Are my clubs secretly filthy? Are my balls dirty?'"
"Enough!" Gus expelled Shawn from his desktop with a relatively forceful nudge. "I hate to break it to you Shawn, but not everybody's dream gift is a swimsuit model holding a pineapple."
"Two pineapples," Shawn corrected. "And I'm still waiting for that for my birthday, by the way. Ooh!" He pointed to an icon on the screen. "Click on that!"
Instead Gus clicked to close the browser window, logged off his computer and rose, grabbing his car keys.
"You're leaving?" Shawn pouted.
"Yes. I'm going home where I can do my online holiday shopping in peace and, where - I might add - I actually have less of a chance of my credit card number being stolen and used to order Rudy's Fruity Edible Panties."
"I paid you back for those," Shawn pointed out as Gus headed for the door, ignoring him. "Fine," Shawn said, turning his back on him, "just see if I buy you that Big Bertha driver you've always wanted."
"You wouldn't know a Big Bertha golf club if it bit you on the ass," Gus said with a gleeful smirk. "Though come to think of it, that would be quite the sight. As of right now the only driver you have is right here and leaving with the car and keys!" Gus dangled the keys with a wide grin and then sauntered out the door, looking pleased with himself.
Shawn watched him go, a little smirk playing across his lips.
"You'll be back in five, four, three, two, one..."
"Shawn!" Gus bellowed, throwing open the door. "What happened to my car?"
"A little miscommunication with a guy with a baseball bat?" Shawn tried to look innocent as Gus seethed on the threshold. "But hey, it could have been worse! He could have used a Big Bertha!"
!!!
Emma DeMarais VarietyPack100 Prompt Table
Crossposted to psychfiction
Title: Golf Spencer Style
Pairing/Characters: Gus, Shawn
Rating: PG13
Spoilers: Pilot
Summary: Prompt - Club
Notes/Warnings: Read the disclaimer on my LJ
"Dude, what is that thing?"
Gus frowned as Shawn invaded his personal space - again - this time to crowd in to look at the web site on his computer monitor.
"It's a portable golf club washer," he explained, a touch of impatience in his tone. "I'm thinking about buying one for my boss for Christmas."
"To suck up?" Shawn inquired, leaning over to take the mouse from Gus's only briefly protesting hand, putting down the keys to Gus' car in the process - the car he'd sworn he only needed for a few minutes which turned into the better part of an hour, thus Gus left bored and alone at the office waiting for his return.
"To make up for the fact that I have to disappear at odd hours because you've gotten us caught up in some crazy case that can't wait until I've finished my sales rounds." When Shawn glanced over with one of his patented Spencer looks, Gus just rolled his eyes. "Yes, to suck up."
"Thought so. Hey, check this out! It's a golf club drink dispenser that spouts liquor out of the end! Now I get why so many people play golf. They're having their own little party on the golf course! I'm so asking for one of those." He gave Gus a playful shove. "And now I see why so much so called business goes on at golf courses! I'll bet sales are great when your clients are sloshed!"
"I'll have you know all my clients are perfectly sober. Well, most of them anyway." Gus snatched the mouse back. "But I won't have any clients if I don't make nice with the boss."
"Do you really think a portable golf club washer is going to wow him?" Shawn sat on the edge of Gus' desk. "Picture him opening it up. He's going to think, 'hey is he trying to tell me something? Are my clubs secretly filthy? Are my balls dirty?'"
"Enough!" Gus expelled Shawn from his desktop with a relatively forceful nudge. "I hate to break it to you Shawn, but not everybody's dream gift is a swimsuit model holding a pineapple."
"Two pineapples," Shawn corrected. "And I'm still waiting for that for my birthday, by the way. Ooh!" He pointed to an icon on the screen. "Click on that!"
Instead Gus clicked to close the browser window, logged off his computer and rose, grabbing his car keys.
"You're leaving?" Shawn pouted.
"Yes. I'm going home where I can do my online holiday shopping in peace and, where - I might add - I actually have less of a chance of my credit card number being stolen and used to order Rudy's Fruity Edible Panties."
"I paid you back for those," Shawn pointed out as Gus headed for the door, ignoring him. "Fine," Shawn said, turning his back on him, "just see if I buy you that Big Bertha driver you've always wanted."
"You wouldn't know a Big Bertha golf club if it bit you on the ass," Gus said with a gleeful smirk. "Though come to think of it, that would be quite the sight. As of right now the only driver you have is right here and leaving with the car and keys!" Gus dangled the keys with a wide grin and then sauntered out the door, looking pleased with himself.
Shawn watched him go, a little smirk playing across his lips.
"You'll be back in five, four, three, two, one..."
"Shawn!" Gus bellowed, throwing open the door. "What happened to my car?"
"A little miscommunication with a guy with a baseball bat?" Shawn tried to look innocent as Gus seethed on the threshold. "But hey, it could have been worse! He could have used a Big Bertha!"
!!!