I don't own Psych or that Girlfriend song.




Gus opened his eyes as his phone rang. It was Don't You Wish Your Girlfriend Was Hot Like Me- the ring tone Shawn had set up. He groaned, and waited until the ringing ended. Then, he smiled, rolled over, and attempted to fall back into the peaceful sleep he had been a part of.

"Don't you wish your girlfriend was hot like me, don't you wish your girlfriend was a freak like me, don't you. Don't you." Gus rolled his eyes, then finally grabbed the cell.

"What is it, Shawn?" He grumbled.

"Hey, Gus." There was an edge to Shawn's voice, so Gus sat up straight, awake now.

"Shawn? What's wrong?" A small, pained chuckle.

"I'm kinda in trouble." Gus turned on the lamp by his bed, blinking at the sudden light that flooded into the room.

"What kind of trouble?"

"I kinda got into a little accident." Gus bit his lip.

" 'Little'? Shawn, where are you?"

"Side of the road," Shawn replied promptly, ignoring Gus' dubiousness. "Do you think you can pick me up?"

"Do I need to get an ambulance?" Gus asked, already pulling a pair of pants up, his shoulder holding the phone to his ear.

"No-no," Shawn said hastily. "No thanks. I'll be fine. My bike is just trashed."

"Okay. If you're sure." Gus wasn't sure, but he still hung up the phone, grabbed his keys, and rushed out the door. As he slid into the car, and stabbed the keys into the ignition, his eyes found the clock. 3:42. "What was he doing driving around now, anyway?" Gus grumbled. Now that he had been assured his best friend wasn't in any mortal danger, he was more angry then worried. He turned onto the empty road, glaring at the dark street. "He always somehow manages to somehow wake me up in the middle of the night." He used to be able to count the times on his hands...and then his hands and his feet...and then he gave up. He sighed, rubbing his eyes wearily. He could still remember the first time Shawn had woken him up.

Gus heard a voice- small and distant. He wondered vaguely whether he was dreaming, then sat up and yawned. It was dark out- not nearly time for school.

"Why'd I wake up?" He muttered to the silence. He thought he heard a voice say his name. He started to tremble. "Hello? Is someone in here? Mom? Dad?" He grabbed the cuff of his sheet, and pulled it over his head.

"Gus...!" The voice was louder now, but still muffled. Still shaking, Gus lowered the sheet. "Gus!" He turned to where it had come from- his window. A dark shape sat behind the curtain. His eyes widened.

"A werewolf!" He whispered. "Or a vampire! Or a-"

"Gus, lemme in!" Gus scurried to the window.

"What are you?" He asked, quivering.

"Awesome." The voice replied sardonically. "Now, lemme in!" Gus pushed the curtain aside, then gasped.


"Who'd you think I was, the Bogey Man? Now open the window! Quick!" Gus did as he was instructed, and Shawn clambered in.

"What happened?"

"I got in a little trouble." Gus raised an eyebrow.


Even back then, Gus thought with a wry smirk, he'd not believed it was a little trouble. It turned out Shawn had run away from home. Thinking back on it, Gus couldn't remember why. Something about a dog? He shrugged, then tightened his grip on the wheel.

"Where am I going?" He wondered suddenly. With a groan, he pulled out his cell phone. Shawn answered on the first ring.

"Second and third," The voice stated. "I was wondering when you would call."

"Blame the sleep deprivation." Gus snapped, closing the cell phone. He sighed slightly. Why did he always do whatever Shawn told him to do? Sure, he would argue, he would complain, he'd raise his doubts- but, in the end, Shawn always won, unless he didn't really care. He remembered once, in sixth grade, Shawn had convinced him to skip for the first time...

"I'll fail if I go!" Shawn complained.

"Your fault for not studying," Gus replied, hiking the backpack higher onto his shoulders.

"But this test is important," Shawn persisted.

"So, we should be there to take it," Gus reasoned. Shawn rolled his eyes.

"It's that kind of thinking that gets me into trouble with my dad," He muttered. Gus turned to face his friend.

"Shawn. What's your grade in Mrs. Bessems?"

"F." Shawn replied easily.

"And how often do you skip?"

"How many times?" Shawn asked, wrinkling his nose. "No idea."

"My point exactly," Gus replied, turning. He continued to walk. "Maybe if you went to class, you'd have a better grade."

"Okay. I swear to the Duke brothers that I will- to the best of my ability- study if you just skip with me. This one, measly time." Gus bit his lip. One class period for Shawn's future?


"If I hadn't broken both pinkies last week, I'd make it a pinky one," Shawn replied seriously. Gus sighed.

"I'm gonna get in so much trouble."

"No, you won't, dude," Shawn assured him. "If we get caught, you're an A-student. You'll only get in a little trouble, if any."

"Little trouble," Gus snorted. "I got grounded for two months over that stupid test." He sighed. "Shawn never even studied for it. And he still skipped afterwards." He glanced at the cell phone. What exactly did 'little accident' entail? The numbers on the speedometer increased slightly.

Then the sirens came.

"Really?!" Gus moaned, as he pulled over. "At four in the stinkin' morning?!" Someone he didn't recognize walked up to him and tapped on his window. He rolled it down dutifully.

"Do you realize you were going 61 in a 45-mile-zone?" She asked. Gus smiled, trying to emulate Shawn's ease and charm.

"Sorry- There was no one on the roa-"

"No reason to be speeding. License." Gus held in a bitter sigh, and took out the card. She read it. "Mr Guster. Where are you off to so early so fast?"

"My friend got into an accident." Her eyebrows raised.

"Is he at the hospital?"

"No, Ma-am." Gus replied. "See- he said he didn't need paramedics. His motorcycle was just broken." Her lips thinned.

"So, why was it so serious that you get there in less then thirty seconds?" His insides squirmed.

"He usually doesn't understand the severity of situations?" His voice was barely a squeak.

"So. You think he's dying even though he was perfectly capable of using a phone?" He shrugged under her sharp eyes. "Just a minute. I'll get you a ticket." He sighed. If only Shawn had become a cop...in these situations, it'd be a help. Another policeman jumped from the cruiser, and rushed up,

"Gus?" The man didn't look familiar, but Gus nodded. "The Psychic's pal?" Gus wanted to say 'partner', but his mouth and his brain weren't connected at the moment. So he just nodded. "You guys are so cool!" Gus relaxed. Maybe since this guy recognized him, he woul- "Almost forgot, here's your ticket." Gus took it without a word. "Tell Shawn 'hi'!" The cop shouted, as he walked back. The cruiser drove off into the night- morning- and Gus stared after it. This wasn't the first time he'd gotten in trouble with the law because of Shawn.

"Shawn! Slow down!"

"Come on, Gus! I just bought a car! Why would I slow down!?"

"Because it's the law!" Gus shouted back, knuckles white from grasping the armrest of his seat too tightly. Shawn howled in excitement.

"I know! It's totally the bomb!" Gus sneered at him, and then sirens sounded loudly- piercing- from behind them. Shawn slowed, still smiling. Gus grinned at him.

"Told you so."

"Come on. It's just a little bit of trouble."

And Henry would have been seriously pissed about that one. But by then, Shawn was out of his house, and Henry hadn't found out. If he had, he kept it to himself. But Gus ended up paying the fine for Shawn- "I'll pay you back!"- and wouldn't hear from him in anything but phone calls and letters for months- years?- after that.

Gus pulled out, nervously tapping the wheel. A two hundred dollar fine was a 'little' trouble for Shawn. 2 months of groundation had been a 'little' trouble for Shawn (although, if Gus remembered correctly, Shawn got more then that- Henry was his Dad, after all). Running away from home was a 'little' trouble for Shawn. He glanced at the clock. 4:10.

"Stupid cops- holding me up," He grumbled. What would a 'little' accident be? Broken bones? Concussion? Bleeding? Infections? Disembodied limbs? Cut in half? Dying? The ticket at his side, Gus sped up. He saw Shawn resting on the side of the road. Completely fine. No blood. No horror. No pain scrawled on his face. The worry died down to anger.

"Took you awhile," Shawn complained, crawling into the car. Gus didn't even look at him.

"What'd you do?"

"Just got in a little accident," Shawn replied, looking worried. "You okay, Man?" Gus didn't reply. "Sorry I woke you up." Gus sighed, then drove. He didn't speak to Shawn. At all. "I guess I'll call someone to pick up the bike tomorrow." Shawn said, but it brought on no conversation. Gus remained silent. He dropped him off without a word, then drove. Shawn waved, "See ya!"

Gus didn't look, still pissed. He didn't know why. It wasn't as if Shawn had said, 'Oh, my God! I'm bleeding! I'm dying! HELP ME!'. No. He'd just said, 'Got in a little accident.' He sighed, deciding he'd apologize to his friend the next day. He had just read him wrong, that was all.


Shawn watched as the car disappeared around the corner, then let out a gasp of relief. He stumbled, limping, up the stairs, and into his apartment. He collapsed, sprawled across the bed. A smile danced onto his face, as he tried to ignore the pain and fall asleep.

"Just a little accident," He mumbled. "Gus, you worry too much." He tried moving his leg, and winced. "Well. Were I anyone else, you would."

It sucked. I know.

But the point is that Gus worries about Shawn, even if Shawn always tries to downplay everything so he won't worry. There. Summary.