A marathon of Numb3rs, a few beers, and a hard day at work could make people say the strangest things, Gus would later think. Or maybe, just the things that they don't normally say aloud.
"Gus?"
"Yeah?" Gus looked over at Shawn. The Psych Office was in complete darkness except for the softly glowing television. Gus could see the light reflected in Shawn's eyes as he focused on the episode.
"Am I a bad friend?" This was asked as a child would ask an adult if they had done something wrong.
Gus could have rolled his eyes. His friend, clutching a pillow to his chest, half-absorbed by the TV, was choosing to be abnormally insecure about something as concrete as their friendship. Some people thought they knew Shawn Spencer, but in reality, only Gus knew just how far off that cocky persona could be. Of course, it generally took a beer or two to get to that side of him, but that was beside the point.
And Gus, good friend that he was, called Shawn on his crap. Because that's what friends do.
"Shawn, what the hell are you talking about?"
"Come on, dude," Shawn said seriously. "I pulled you out of work to help me with a case you didn't even want to take."
Gus shrugged, still not really seeing what Shawn was trying to say. "You always do that."
"That's the point. I always pull you out of work, and I always make you do cases, and I always annoy you with stuff like that. Isn't that, I don't know, the definition of a bad friend?" Shawn glanced over at Gus questioningly.
"Of course you annoy me. That's the definition of a best friend," Gus pointed out. On the television, the two brothers argued about some case or something. Art imitating life…
Shawn's lower lip jutted out, barely noticeable, but dangerously self-pitying as well. "I feel like I take advantage of you with these cases sometimes…you know?" Shawn looked back at the TV.
"Shawn."
"Yeah?"
"You're a moron. Yeah, you take advantage of me sometimes, but do you really think I would still be working at Psych if I didn't want to?"
Shawn shrugged. "It's not like I give you much of a choice. I drag you out of work, steal your car keys, borrow money from you…I do that crap all the time. How can you still want to work with me?" Shawn looked at Gus, seeming to actually want an answer.
In that somewhat rare moment of sensitivity with his friend, Gus didn't give a detailed, logical explanation about exactly why he worked with Shawn, or why they were friends. This time, he opted for simplicity.
"I love working with my best friend," he said, sipping his beer.
And that answer, while seeming to almost surprise Shawn, was enough. Their eyes drifted back over to the TV screen, and they slipped back into contented silence.
