A/N: This is a very long, drawn out, eventual Shawn/Gus story. This serves as a warning that the boys still have a long way to go.

Mr. Laday had it out for Burton Guster. There was no doubt about it. Ever since he'd unwisely corrected his pronunciation of hypertrichosis and Shawn Spencer chose that exact moment to claim that Mr. Laday shouldn't have had a problem pronouncing a condition he obviously had. It wasn't Guster's fault, all he'd done was try to insure his classmates were getting correct information and all Shawn had wanted… well he'd just seen it as another chance to get on a teacher's nerves which would, in turn, get on Henry's nerves. It was a harmless form of revenge and Burton definitely didn't deserve the severe punishment that came with it.

Burton had actually been really excited about the project; they had to construct an exact replica of a chosen dinosaur's anatomy using credited research. He had been so excited he'd volunteered to be the one student to do the project on his own. However, still upset over his outburst, weeks ago he might add, Mr. Laday had other plans.

"And Mr. Spencer, since you've found it necessary to become Mr. Guster's backbone, you can be his partner for this assignment." He turned around; knowing full and well the angry groan he heard came from the seat closest to the front of the room.

And if his parents hadn't scolded him before for combative behavior, Burton would've thrown a tantrum. He would've stood up and demanded a reassignment and, had he known those words Joy sang in her rap songs, he would've cursed the man in the tacky, plaid sweater vest at the front of the room enjoying his discomfort.

But instead, Burton rolled his eyes, cursed his luck and refused to look at the back of the room. Shawn shrugged his shoulders and continued drawing a rather rude picture of Mr. Laday kissing Principal Hendricks' ass. He didn't care who his partner was, it wasn't like he'd have to do anything. Every time someone got paired with him, they assumed he would be a liability or a mooch. They figured it'd be less of a hassle to just sign his name and pretend he didn't exist.

Despite this fact, Burton Guster stopped at Shawn's desk when class ended and dropped a folded piece of notebook paper on top of his artwork with a heartfelt sigh. Knowing it would make him sweat Shawn didn't open it until Burton left the room. Then he read, in painstakingly neat handwriting:

"456 Hollow Dr.

Burton Guster: 555-867-6909"

Shawn lifted his head in confusion, scanning the empty room for some sign this was a joke. But he'd watched that Guster kid and he wouldn't know a prank unless someone provided a Webster definition and drew a damn diagram. He packed his bag and left the room, a little ashamed to have written off the one person that hadn't done the same to him.

After a week of no contact with Guster, Shawn was sitting at home, eating cereal and watching cartoons when Henry and his mom started shouting. He sighed and kicked at the remote in vain, succeeding only in knocking it off of the couch and onto the floor. He'd just mustered enough annoyance to get off the couch and retrieve it when his mother shuffled in and eyed him curiously.

"Honey, don't you have something you could be doing? Homework, maybe?" She asked, obviously a little frazzled. This was the part he hated most about when his parents fought. They treated him like he was some stupid kid, like he somehow hadn't seen, or heard them fighting not five feet away from him. Henry expected him to be a detective but he also expected him to ignore the obvious.

And he loved his mom, sometimes he thought more than Henry. It hurt to lie. "Uh… yeah. I'm supposed to be doing this dinosaur project with some kid on Hollow Drive."

His mother smiled sadly at him and grabbed her keys and her purse. "That's right around the corner, I'll take you." Then she practically threw them both out of the house and into the yard.

They got in the car and Shawn guessed his mother believed ignorance made him an invalid because she buckled him the front seat like a toddler. As she drove, she talked; about anything really. She talked about Henry's job, about her practice's problems, about his Aunt Nancy and her breast cancer, about his chores, his homework, and his future. When he got out of the car, his mind was reeling. She kissed his forehead and took his hand. "I love you, Shawn." She smiled but it didn't quite reach her eyes.

He knocked on Guster's door and by the time Mrs. Guster answered the door and his mother was down the street, he realized with jarring clarity what she'd told him. She would be staying at Nancy's for a while. She was telling him she'd be leaving for a while but deep down, in the pit of his heart, it felt like she wasn't coming back.

Mrs. Guster seemed like a kind enough woman but, Shawn wasn't in the mood for kind. For once, he found himself speechless. But he wasn't a baby, he was a man now. He was 12 for Christ's sake, he wasn't going to run to a corner and cry. Especially not in front of Guster's mom, and especially not in front of Guster.

"So you're Shawn Spencer? Are you by any chance related to the Mrs. Spencer that does psychology profiles for the police department? She's helped my husband make a case quite a few times. She's a lovely woman; we've been out to lunch a few times when Raymond was stuck at the office." She gently maneuvered Shawn into the kitchen where he was hit with the mouthwatering smell of fresh brownies. He must've been staring at the godsends on the countertop because she chuckled and fetched a plate from a cabinet and placed it next to the pan. "Take two. They're Burton's 'Cheer-Up Brownies'. He's been in such a mood lately I've been getting carpal tunnel with all the baking I've had to do."

Shawn grinned and took a large bite out of one perfectly proportioned dessert, relishing in the chocolate goodness. "These are delicious." He mumbled, remembering what his mother said about speaking with his mouth full.

Mrs. Guster returned his smile and didn't mention his bad manners. She went to the stairs and called for Burton. "Sweetheart, your science partner's here and you've been up there for the past three days. The fresh air will do you good." When she returned, Shawn was on his second and contemplating whether or not he could get away with a third. She frowned a little at the self-conscious look on his face and shook her head. "Go for it, take as many as you like. Burton's been on this new health kick anyway. He's blissfully unaware of the contradiction in too many desserts."

Shawn reached for another brownie after another moment of hesitation. It wasn't like he'd never had freshly baked brownies before, it'd just been a while. Apparently longer than he realized because he'd polished off five before Guster came down the stairs with green paint plastered to his brown forehead and cheek. Given everything his mother had let slip, Shawn could've easily come up with something vicious to say to Guster to embarrass him, make him cry; he'd certainly been given the ammunition. But he didn't want to go home right now. Not when he had brownies and calm conversation he didn't necessarily have to respond to.

"So…" Guster said, shifting his weight from foot to foot, a critical look on his face. Shawn found himself wondering whether this kid ever smiled, outside of getting a teacher's praise. "Are we going to work on our project, or what?"

"Burton." His mother admonished. "Change your tone."

Brow furrowed, Guster tried again. "Are you ready to work?"

Mrs. Guster stepped forward and examined his face, tilting it erratically from the left to the right, upward and downward. "Go wash your face first then you can work." She marched him in the direction he'd come from before returning.

She smiled at him again, wiping her hands on her apron, wedding band reflecting in the kitchen light. Opening the fridge, she began to pour him a glass of chocolate milk, his favorite but Henry didn't even know that. She placed it next to him on the countertop and fetched a brownie for herself. "So, Shawn, I hear you're quite the trouble maker. You seem alright to me." She winked at him, taking a bite.

And with that, Shawn decided he liked it here.

Burton wasn't pleased with the way the paint on his dinosaur looked too much like plastic and not like scales. And he certainly wasn't pleased with the way Shawn Spencer came strolling into his room with chocolate covered fingers, dirt tracking sneakers and a self-satisfied smirk on his face. He'd been working furiously on this project for the past four days, alone he might add, and Shawn hadn't done anything to help. Granted, he should've expected it; he'd heard from everyone else Shawn had been partnered with that he preferred to be a silent bystander.

But then again, Shawn had never come to their houses. Before he could feel accomplished in this feat, he reasoned Shawn had probably just been bored at home doing whatever kids like him did by themselves. Like watch late night cable channels or spray paint school property and all those other things his parents thought Joy didn't do with her 'little friends' on those nights she wasn't forced to keep track of her brother.

So he put Shawn to work. Put him in charge of mixing the material for the paper mache while he cut strips of newspaper. They worked in silence, Burton focused on his project and Shawn grateful for a task to keep his mind off of his mother's departure. Before they'd realized, three hours had passed and Mrs. Guster was calling Shawn down the stairs and asking if he planned on staying for dinner or if his parents were expecting him. Knowing Henry, he probably hadn't realized Shawn had left. That or he thought he was out with his mother who'd bring him back for dinner, that the three of them would sit down to until Henry would inevitably be called in to cover someone else's shift.

But Shawn didn't mention any of this, choosing instead to lie. "Yeah, my dad is expecting me." He turned to face Guster, his eyes on his shoes. "I'll see you later—"

"Tomorrow, you mean?" Guster asked just defiant enough that his mother wouldn't scold.

He looked up and their eyes met for the first time that Shawn could remember, curiosity present in his gaze. Burton's eyes were a lot like his mothers. They reflected kindness and honesty and, not that he'd ever tell him, a gentle soul. But, the most astonishing of all, they looked expectant and challenging. He felt as if, for once, someone expected him to finish something he'd started; not because he was supposed to or because his parents were making him… but because this kid, the overly tense Burton Guster, needed his help and was depending on him for assistance. And whether he liked it or not, he was not getting out of this partnership.

The sheer challenge made Shawn question whether he even wanted to try.

And what the hell, he'd felt less alone in Guster's silence than the cacophony of sound at his house. "Yeah, Guster. I'll be here tomorrow," he started towards the door before throwing over his shoulder, "for the brownies."