Fair Trade
Title: Fair Trade
Author: plainapple
Rating: G
Pairings: None! Gen!
Warning: Gen. No Shassie luvin' whatsoever. Rampant Sentimentality.
Disclaimer: This is fan fiction, I make no claims to the copyright ownership of Psych or to its characters.
Summary: In response to prompt from blipblopblork, "The Great Pharmaceutical Mystery" posted on Psych Prompts
Fair Trade
1996
“Gus, gimme fifty cents.”
“No way.”
Shawn stomped his foot in agitation, “Gus come on, it’s only a couple of quarters.”
“Why’s it gotta be my quarters?” said Gus.
“Because you have money and I don’t?” asked Shawn, “I thought that was kinda obvious. Now seriously, Gus, let me borrow fifty cents, I want a jawbreaker.”
“Borrow implies that you’re going to pay me back.”
“How about I pay you back with half a jawbreaker?” asked Shawn.
“Half a jawbreaker is only a twenty five cent value.” said Gus.
“Dude, if you ever want a girlfriend never say that again.”
“Shut up!” exclaimed Gus.
“No, I’m serious. If you keep talking like that someone’s going to put a plastic green visor on you and send you to where accountants go to not lose their virginity.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” said Gus, turning away from Shawn, “I thought you were just asking for a favor, but it must not have been important if you have time to make fun of me…”
“Okay okay, I’m sorry.” said Shawn, “Look, just give me fifty cents and you’ll get half a jawbreaker and you’ll get to hang out with me for the rest of the afternoon.”
“Or I could just buy a jawbreaker for myself and have a whole one. You know you’d be hanging out with me anyway.”
‘Okay, true,” said Shawn, “But I’ll be way less fun without a sugar buzz. Plus, you never buy anything for yourself. If we don’t spend those quarters on candy today you’re just gonna put them in your piggy bank or something.”
“Please. I do not even have a piggy bank. I’ll put them in my low risk 3.5% interest generating savings account.”
“Great idea. You’ll have fifty one cents in only a year.”
“Every penny counts Shawn.”
“Okay, Gus, seriously. You are this close to wearing a pocket protector.”
Gus sighed and dug some change out of his pocket, trying not to be too pissed off as the way Shawn grinned while Gus handed it to him. He glowered while Shawn ran to the convenience store counter; he glowered while they walked to the beach to find the perfect rock to smash the jawbreaker in two with. He tried to keep glowering when Shawn stuck out his tongue to show Gus how it had turned orange from the candy, but Shawn looked too ridiculous.
As Gus sat with Shawn on the pier, watching girls and trying to make his half a jawbreaker last, he had to admit that fifty cents for a perfect afternoon was a pretty fair trade.
1999
“So… Burton.” said the man behind the table, glancing down at his clipboard, “Why are you interested in pharmaceutical sales?”
“I’m not.” Gus answered.
“Oh, well, I have your name here on…”
“I know.” said Gus, “But I didn’t put it there. Mrs. Kingston said I still had to come talk to you though.”
“I’m speaking with all the students who expressed interest in our organization.”
“But I didn’t express interest, my friend signed me up as a joke.” said Gus.
The man sighed and rubbed the ridge of his nose, “Yeah, that’s the way it happens with most of the kids I talk to.”
“Can I go now?” asked Gus.
“Look,” the man said, “I know we’re not the most popular booth at the career fair…”
“From what I can tell, you’re the least popular booth at the career fair.”
The man sighed again, “I know. Everyone wants to talk to the doctors and the firemen, right? But look, those jobs aren’t as great as they make them out to be.”
“A doctor seems like a pretty great job,” said Gus, “Lots of money, lots of respect…”
“Lots of hours.” the man interrupted, “Being a doctor is fine if you want your job to be your whole life, but are you sure that’s what you want?”
Gus shrugged, “What else is there?”
“Let me ask you something. When are you most happy, is it when you’re at school?”
Gus pressed his lips together and considered. He liked school, but most happy. No.
“No.” said Gus.
“Right” said the man, “I bet you’re most happy with your family or your friends, right?”
“I guess.”
“Well let me tell you, it’s exactly the same when you get out of school. A job doesn’t make people happy, what makes people happy is having the time to be with the people they love. I’ll admit, selling pharmaceuticals isn’t the most glamorous job and it isn’t the most fun job, but it’s a job that’s not going anywhere. Steady work, steady pay, and enough time off to do the things that really matter. Most people would consider that a fair trade.”
The man went quiet. Gus stared blankly at him.
“So…” said Gus, “Can I go now?”
“At least take a brochure and think about it.”
Gus agreed, shoving the brochure in his backpack. Pharmaceutical sales. Right. He hurried out of the career fair and went to find Shawn.
Present Day
Gus peered over Shawn’s shoulder as Shawn sat at his desk and tried to make sense of the chicken scratch notes he'd jotted down in the back of his checkbook.
"Okay... so. Hmmm. So all we need is $50 to make next month's rent on the office."
"The first is tomorrow Shawn, how are you gonna get $50 in one day?"
Shawn looked up at Gus expectantly.
"No." said Gus.
"Gus, it's not like it's a personal loan, this is our business we're talking about!"
"Our business is supposed to make enough money to cover the rent." Gus answered, "How can we be short? The office is our only overhead."
"Not true!" Shawn protested, "What about, um, transportation costs? And, uh, Post-its and paper clips and things. "
"We use my car." said Gus, "And don't even pretend like you pitch in on gas. And I know you get our office supplies for free from the cabinet at the station."
"I get our office supplies at great personal risk, do you know what Lassie would do if he caught me taking official SBPD pens?" asked Shawn, "I think I deserve to spend the money I save us on smoothies."
"Great, you get a smoothie and I'm out fifty bucks."
"Dude, you know I'll pay you back from my cut on the next case, it’s just been a little slow. We'll do better next month. My trick knee has been acting up and you know that means there's a double homicide a'commin'."
"You don't have a trick knee." said Gus, crossing his arms, "And I don't feel comfortable going around hoping for a double homicide."
"Fine," said Shawn, "We'll pick up some boring attempted-murder slash theft or something. I'll even tail an extra cheating husband if I have to. Just, please? Fifty dollars."
"Mehhh..."
"Guuus, come on. What’s the point of having a soul crushing day job if you can’t spend a little money sometimes?”
Gus sighed and dug out his wallet, handing Shawn three twenty dollar bills, "Give me ten back."
"I could give you ten back," said Shawn, "Or I could take you out for a delicious nacho platter lunch at the new Mexican place across the street on me."
"You mean on me."
"I've heard it both ways."
Gus sighed, "Fine, but we're getting sour crème."
"I hate sour crème!" Shawn protested as he tucked the cash into his back pocket.
"We're getting it Shawn."
Shawn bolted for the door, "Not if I get there first!"
Gus swore and started after Shawn. He did a quick accounting of where he stood. He was down $50 but up half a detective agency and a free afternoon to have lunch with his best friend.
Fair trade.