Thanks muchly to Jen Bachand for her part in the creation of this fic. You know, she tends to rock in that arena.
Gus wasn't one to plan things, but when he did (on that slight, off-chance) they turned out in spectacular fashion.
He had that attention to detail that so many lacked and when put in the position to plan something, well, he tended to thrive like kudzu. Like freaky, radioactive kudzu.
Growing up on the coast had its benefits, clambakes, beach bashes, bonfires, weather-themed parties; growing up on the coast, Burton Guster learned just what it meant to party, what it truly meant to let the good times roll. And while he wasn't a drinker, a smoker, or a womanizer, he knew how to make the most out of each event and he certainly knew how to accurately and festively throw a bash.
Yeah, the man knew how to have a good time and then some.
And on this, the first anniversary of Shawn's 28th birthday, he supposed he should go all out.
1983
Shawn and Gus looked on as Gus's mother kissed his father goodbye, the man walking down the drive to climb into his Lincoln; he had an important meeting that morning and Celia Guster had packed Timothy Guster's favorite meal: corned beef, pickles and mayonnaise, a meal that she tended to pawn off on whoever tended to come around at lunch time.
Celia packed it for the boys as well, but they only pretended to eat it, in true, sneaky fashion; they'd become very adept at slipping halves of the meal into large napkins before depositing them into the trashcan. They'd never quite understood why grown ups ate such strange food and never indulged in the likes of mac n' cheese and fluffernutters, the quintessential lunchtime assortment. The boys never understood why they found it so fun to press their lips against the others' before leaving for the day.
Truth be told, it made the boys shudder. But there was also a part of the ritual, a part of the interaction that kept them in wonder. How Celia smiled at Tim and how Tim hugged her so close. Neither Shawn nor Gus could imagine wanting to kiss a girl, no matter touch her.
The boys shook their head in tandem as Celia waved after her husband, clutched her hands to her chest and moved towards the front door.
"How old are your parents, Gus?" Shawn asked, his voiced tinged with an air of awe and blatant disgust.
Gus shrugged and flopped onto his back, his G. I. Joe held erect and patriotic over his chest, "Hmmm, I don't know, maybe thirty?"
Shawn grabbed his own Joe and flipped himself down into the dirt, strategically placing the G.I. in range of his target. "Thirty is so old!," Shawn exclaimed in boyish ignorance. "Promise me, as my best friend, you won't let me turn thirty, okay?"
Gus sighed and fell down from his friend's imaginary fire. "Fine, but only as long as I can be the Allied insurgency!"
Rolling his eyes, Shawn surrendered, "Fiiiiiine."
Present
A finger in thick frosting, Shawn Spencer sucked the confection from his digit and leaned back in his chair, looking as though he was pondering something gravely important. "But really, it's not like twenty-nine is a big deal, it's not eighteen or twenty-one, God Gus, can you remember what we were like at twenty-one?"
A chuckle emanated from behind a computer screen. "You know I can, Shawn, you passed out on Patti Kittredge's floor. In your own vomit, I might add," Gus said, rolling his eyes, while continuing to search the internet.
Jumping to his feet whilst balancing his plate, Shawn took a large spoonful from the cake. "Hey man, I set you up with her sister!"
"But I had to carry your drunk ass home and because of that and your... affectionate ways while inebriated, she thought you and I were together Shawn, so-"
Around his treat, he choked, "Really!? You never told me that!"
Shutting the lid of the laptop with a bit too much gusto, his friend replied, "Well, that's not exactly something that you go on about, a fine chick thinking you and your best friend are dating, you know?" He sounded upset; Shawn of course, didn't notice.
"That's why she wouldn't dance with me at that... that mixer at UC Davis!" he concluded, in his own little world for the moment.
"Shawn!"
Shaking himself out of the temporary reverie, he tossed the messy paper plate into the wastebasket and looked at Gus. "You're right, sorry, back to what I was saying, birthday." Shawn placed his hands on his hips and made a dramatic swivel of his head. "Just maybe you, me... some of those ladies we met last week at that mixer..."
"They're in high school Shawn, and they weren't exactly cleared in that smuggling ring."
Huffing, Shawn tossed himself back down onto the sofa. "Okay, well then, you and I and... and... do you think Jules'd come? Of course she would... why wouldn't she, I mean-"
"Call who you want, Shawn, you know I'll be there," Gus tried nonchalantly, and to his luck, his friend bought it.
Running a hand through his hair, the psychic nodded. "Okay, so you and me and some sangria, maybe a strip club..."
Gus smiled to himself, "Whatever..."
It was a week or so before his 'master plan' started coming together in a real way. He'd spared no expense with his plans, not that he was really spending his own money really.
Gus had managed to hide away a significant payoff from a wealthy client whom they had helped located the step-daughter of. The woman had paid them an exorbitant sum, one which had both of their eyes quite literally popping as though they were Daffy Duck and they had run themselves off of a cliff. So a chunk-a hefty one, in the thousands-had been tucked away, saved for a rainy day of sorts while Shawn had scampered off and purchased not only a giant trampoline for the modest yard behind headquarters, but another motorcycle as well.
Blue.
A compliment to the bright red one he already had.
Instead, Gus had pulled out a wad and laid it down to make sure that Shawn's favorite bar could be privately rented; he made sure that the booze was comped to their corporate account and that e-vites were sent to all of the appropriate people, some close acquaintances, some of them not. A large invite went out to the employees of the Santa Barbara Police Department and most of them were so intrigued with the wiles of the pseudo psychic that they were bound to show. Gus didn't count on Lassiter making an appearance, but being able to tell his best buddy that he'd invited the surly detective was something at least.
That's all that a party really needed, a few dozen people, music and some alcohol. Gus had even seen to it that the karaoke machine was us and running, so Shawn could impress the masses with his rendition of "The End of the World As We Know It." There was just one element that was missing.
An e-sponse from Juliet.
He knew that if the junior detective didn't show up, Shawn wouldn't be heart broken (or he wouldn't show it, at the very least). He'd be devastated for a moment or two before moving on to find happier topics; however, if she were to show up, he could also imagine the look of awe, shock, delirious happiness that would cross his face. And as someone who was planning the biggest birthday bash this-side-of-twenty-five, Gus thought it would be pretty prudent to take it upon himself to make absolutely certain that she would show up.
Shawn had programmed her cell number into his phone sometime back in December, around when they had gotten into a fight over what the best pizza joint in Santa Barbara was; Jules had broken the tie, siding with Gus and his choice of 'Little Steve's Corner Pizzeria'. Scrolling through his list of contacts (most of which were doctors, big surprise) he slowed when he came upon the J's and hit 'down' a few times before landing on her name.
A few rings later and they were connected.
"Hey Gus, what's up?" She sounded slightly uncertain, as though it was strange for him to be calling her. He supposed it was (had Shawn programmed his number into her phone, or had she done it herself... life's mysteries...), but shrugged off his own uncertainty and trudged on. He wasn't overstepping his bounds, he was being a good friend.
"I was wondering if you had gotten my email about the thing on Friday."
There was a pause on the other end of the line, "The thing?" There was another pause, a click, a clunk and then she responded, "Sorry, dropped the phone, yeah, just checking my email now." A slight weight lifted off of his chest at her admission; she hadn't been avoiding responding, she just hadn't checked her email. Gus reminded himself not to overreact in such a way in the future. "Oh, uh, wait... yeah, I guess I'll... I'll be there?"
Gus chuckled a bit at her slightly-uncertain response, "You'll be there?"
"Sorry! I've been crazy busy lately but, yeah I'll be... he's turning twenty-nine, really? and... wait, you invited this many people from PD?" Juliet asked, surprised. It was slightly embarrassing, now that he really thought about it. While Shawn was Gus's only friend outside of work, it seemed that Gus was Shawn's only friend outside of work as well.
He shifted in his seat, "Uh, yeah, why?"
"No, no, you just realize... how... kinda sad that is?"
Again, Gus chuckled, "Purely about numbers." And it was; rule number one of partying, Gus had learned, was to invite a lot of interesting, hip people so that if there was a lull in the fun, someone would inevitably have something to say or do.
There was another long silence stretching across the line between then until she broke in with, "Okay, well, I'll see what I can do about Carlton but, you know..."
He knew it was a longshot, having the senior detective make an appearance, but the fact that Juilet was willing to try meant something. "Yeah, but thanks. And hey, thanks for coming."
Her voice was a bit lower when she responded, a bit more thick, "You didn't think I would?"
Waiting a moment, Gus chose his words carefully. He didn't want to create 'a thing' over nothing, but there had been that seed of doubt that she wouldn't show. "I... I just hoped you would is all."
"Alright, well, great, see you Friday... if not sooner." She disconnected and Gus placed his phone on the table, feeling rather proud of himself that he'd been able to pull together such a random, funky shindig.
A Week and Some Random Change Later
The music was only a little too loud as Gus entered O'Reilly's on Friday night; though the place wasn't packed to capacity, but was adequately full, people milling about,, flitting here and there. The bar staff had even managed to properly place the bright green streamers without mauling them too badly. A smile crossed his face as he made his way through the throng, making his way to the barstool where Henry sat. "What do you think?"
"Gus!" Henry placed his beer down on the shellacked wood and turned to shake the man's hand. "This actually turned out pretty nice."
A large smile spread across Gus's face; he enjoyed the momentary ego stroke. "Yeah, I'm surprised too."
"But why the big to-do for his twenty-ninth?" Henry questioned, going back for his beer and taking a large sip. "Not like it's thirty."
"Oh no, Shawn isn't going to turn thirty, we made that pact way back, right before he snapped the arm off of my G.I. Joe.," Gus explained, as though that said it all. Henry knew better than to ask anything further of that story, so instead he shrugged and took a pull on his beer.
"Where is my son, anyway?" The majority of the people that had been invited had showed up, but there was no sign of the birthday boy.
Sliding onto a stool, the younger man responded, "He's on his way; I've got Buzz down the block waiting, he's gonna text me when he seems him." Gus felt rather sure of himself this time around, as though he had all the bases covered, and it felt good. Relaxing, he slid his elbows onto the bar and leaned down, enjoying the reprieve for the time being.
"Ahhh," Henry sighed, also leaning his elbows against the bar to wait with his son's friend.
As though he had planned it, the cell phone in his pocket began to vibrate and Gus retrieved it, flipping open the cover to read the words 'on his way' on the screen. Immediately, he hopped up from his seat, motioning to the bartender to turn the music down. "Okay everybody, the last thing I need form you is the next time that door opens, one big 'surprise!'" The conversation quieted down to a murmur as the people in the establishment turned their attention to the door. "Okay?"
A tense moment (for Gus) later, the door cracked open and when Gus gave the signal (a ridiculous flail of his hands) the bar erupted in, "Surprise!"
A startled Juliet yelped and hopped backwards, nearly toppling over in his modest heels. The occupants of the party all sighed, gave a few "Awww"s for good measure and turned back to the conversations they had abandoned previously. "No, no guys," Gus attempted over the racket, but to no avail.
Quickly, the detective made her way through the people to the dejected man at the man, sliding beside him with a regretful look on her face. "Gus! I'm, I'm so sorry, I didn't know..."
"It's fine," he said dejectedly, motioning to the bartender for a beer of his own. Juliet tried to smile at him, but it came out as a nervous twist of her lips.
"Um, where is he anywa-" she began but was cut off when a few people over towards the vicinity of the door gave a holler of surprise, that had much less gusto than the first attempt. Shawn hopped back just as Juliet had, but when he actually entered, his face broke into a wide grin. Accepting hands to shake, the man of the hour made his way through the crowd slowly, lingering here and there to thank people for coming.
When he finally made it to the bar, his best friend already had a drink waiting for him. "Gus, you did all this?" A proud smile perked his lips and his friend took his hand, shaking it heartily. "But who stole my 'surprise'?" Gus coughed and looked up at the higher end bottles of scotch, looming at the top of the bar; Henry coughed and glanced down at his beer.
Juliet's cheeks flushed and she daintily held up her hand, hiding her face, seemingly in the crook of her arm. "Jules! No, you didn't!" She bit her lip and blushed even deeper, the color nearly matching that of her shirt. It was charming to Shawn, amusing to Gus and confusing to Henry.
It was then that Shawn noticed his father watching the group; a wrinkle appeared in the young man's brow and he glanced at Gus, who said nothing. "Happy birthday, Shawn," Henry said, holding up his glass towards his son before, "Now introduce me." Motioning to Juliet, Henry spun around on his stool.
The moment was awkward, but only slightly so. The color had begun to drain from the detective's cheeks and she had relaxed her stance, turning towards the man who had requested make her acquaintance. "Father, oh father of mine," Shawn began in grad fashion, "This is Detective Juliet O'Hara."
"Carlton's partner," Henry confirmed and took the young woman's hand. "Pleased to meet you Juliet, you keep these boys in line?"
A light chuckle slipped from her throat and a new wave of blush began creeping up her neck, "As much as I can, sir."
Gus chuckled and returned the wave from someone across the room. "I'll be back in a bit guys," he said and meandered away. Shawn's father waved his goodbye and turned his attention back to Juliet.
Henry smiled gently at her, returning to a conversation he'd wanted to start. "Well, it's a difficult task if there ever was one, you know I-"
"Okay dad," Shawn's hands fell on Juliet's shoulders and he steered her away though she was attempting to say something to the older man. "Well, look at that, Jules wants me to dance with her, can't help it, sorry!" He called this over his shoulder as he pushed her through the people towards the back of the establishment. Though her heels scuffed against the floor and she began protesting, he kept pushing.
"Shawn, what are you... stop!" He did, spinning around so that he was in front of her, holding her upper arms so that her arms were immobile.
He shook his head quickly, dramatically. "Not my father, you can't talk to my father, not yet, not... now." Wiping his brow in a spectacular fashion, Juliet rolled her eyes at him.
"Well, anyway... why this big deal about your twenty-ninth birthday? It's not..."
He cut her off, stealing a drink from a tray that passed by; taking a long sip, Shawn rolled his head and explained. "Thirty is responsible; thirty you have to... make sandwiches for people and keep a day planner and buy a house... thirty is... too grown up." He was bouncing from foot to foot, twirling the straw in his drink between his teeth.
"What is that, anyway?" Juliet cut in, glancing at the glass.
Smacking his lips, he estimated, "Soco, lime... and something else, point is, Gus promised me that I never had to turn thirty, so this is the last birthday I'm ever going to celebrate." Again, he sipped from his drink and looked around quickly. "And you're not allowed to talk to my father, he ruins... uh, well." Rolling the glass between his palms he checked around them again, "I like you Jules, in case, you know, all of that flirting wasn't obvious but... I like you so... just don't talk to my father."
There was nothing to say, she didn't know what to say; it wasn't a completely shocking admission but it was slightly startling, the fact that he was now so willing to just put it out there so freely, she was left searching for steady footing. "I, uh, wait, Shawn you..."
"I know," he flailed his arms and the ice cubes in his glass went careening into the wall behind him. "Jules, you talk to my dad, any chance I have with you is doomed, you see?" She continued to stare at him. "Do you see?"
"Nah... no," she finally said, somewhat deflated, that she hadn't caught on to what he was getting at.
A sigh was her answer, an exaggerated slump of his shoulders, "He tells whoever, whoever, whoever is interested in me in the least about the time that I asked a teacher if she was hiding our kickball from us because she was pregnant or when he had to bail me out of jail in high school because I was scalping forged super bowl tickets. But just let me say in my defense, the Bowl wasn't even in California, so the story is really more about the idiots who bought them from me and-"
She cut him off, "Shawn! What about a drink? How about we start there and you can tell me all about jail and detention and being grounded..." Shawn blinked at her, saying nothing. "Ummm, maybe a Captain and coke?"
Shawn snapped out of it, nodding at her as he stumbled past her, making his way to the bar; once there he ordered her drink and maneuvered so that his elbows were resting on the bar, but his back was to the tender. "You know," he began, voice slick. "I have foiled your evil plan and thus have kept you away from the fair maiden; you shall not ruin this, Sir!"
Henry waggled his head and finished off his beer. "That's fine, Shawn," he said, standing. "She's a tough one, I look forward to seeing her make you work for it."
"Wha, what, wait!" Shawn called after his father as he made towards the exit.
Just as he was about to drop out of earshot, Henry called, "She dragged her feet Shawn, she's not going to just fall for you." And then he was out the door, sparing a few quick words with Gus and Lassiter as he made his exeunt.
Shawn huffed a little and turned, drink in hand to walk back to-wait, Lassiter was there?
Instead of hurrying back to Juliet, he sidestepped steadily-drinking people to join his friend and his supposed-nemesis, "Lassybabe, you made it."
The detective twisted his face into an evil grin, "Well Spencer, it is open bar, isn't it?"
"Uh, is there any other way to throw a party?" He chuckled, throwing an arm around Gus, who immediately shrugged it off. Again glaring, Lassiter strolled off quickly, in the direction of the bar.
The pair turned to watch him demand a stiff drink from the barman, sliding onto a bar stool, alone. They shared a sad chuckle before Shawn turned, "Dude, by the way, this is awesome! I can't believe you got an open bar." He grinned and stuck a fist out, "Hollah!" Gus punched his fist in celebration and pulled back, grinning. There were things he wanted to say, thanks he wanted to give, to properly express what he felt for his friend of twenty-plus years. But guys didn't do that, right? So Shawn just knocked Gus on the back with a palm and looked out at all the people, some who he knew, some who he didn't.
"Yeah well, next year won't happen so-"
"And it's so cool that you remembered the no-thirty rule!" Shawn shook the drink in his hand and remembered, "Oh! Jules!... and thanks for that too!" he called as he slipped away.
As he swiveled around the lumbering officers and backtracked as a prosecutor backed up rapidly, Shawn managed to keep any of the drink in the glass from sloshing over the edge. He arrived at the table she had chosen with a flourish, sliding the glass into her open palm with perfect timing.
"So Gus is a really great friend, huh?" she asked him, unfazed by his suave move.
"The best of the best," he said, picking up his previously discarded drink, "And I think-"
"You gonna tell me about detention... or what?" Juliet smiled and hid the bottom of her face behind her drink.
He looked down into his drink, slightly unsure as to how to proceed, "You uh, you still wanna hear about that?"
It was the third time she really blushed that evening, a lovely thing, but she didn't pretend to hide it this time; rather, she embraced it and sat up straight, worrying the straw of her drink between her teeth. "Yeah, besides, if I hear all of the embarrassing stories now, I have nothing to worry about with your dad... right?"
Shawn leaned into the table, pushing his drink aside slowly with the back of a hand, "Right, well... about detention... there was this principal that we all hated..."