"What are we talking about?" Henry asked, smiling warmly as he slid into the seat across from Shawn and Gus.

"Uh…fishing," Shawn told him quickly.

"Fishing?" Henry repeated, his nose wrinkling in obvious distaste. "Why on earth are you talking about fishing?"

Shawn dropped the cookie that was halfway to his mouth, his eye growing wide in shocked horror. "You love fishing!" he exclaimed. "Your only regret in life is that you weren't born with a fishing pole for a hand!"

Henry picked up the cookie that Shawn had dropped and took a thoughtful bite, looking perplexed. "I like fishing?" he murmured, as if searching the recesses of his mind. "But why would I want to kill a poor, defenseless fish?"

"I always assumed you used to get teased by schools of fish when you were a kid," Shawn offered, casting Gus a concerned glance. "Actually, that theory would explain a lot…"

"You don't remember that you like fishing?" Gus asked Henry, returning Shawn's look.

Henry shrugged lightly, wiping his hands off on his apron. "I've never been fishing in my life. Are you kidding me? Why on earth would I want fish guts all over my hands? Yucky!"

"'Yucky'?" Shawn snorted, pushing his chair back from the table. "Okay…the baking was one thing. Those cookies were awesome! But now you're really starting to freak me out!"

Henry blinked in complete bewilderment. "Why am I freaking you out, Shawn? Because I think fish guts are icky?"

"Since when do you think fish guts are icky?" Shawn demanded.

"Since you hit him upside the head with a paint can, apparently." Gus shot back. "I told you to bring him to the hospital!"

"I've never liked fish guts!" Henry insisted, shivering at the very thought. "It gets under your finger nails and you just can't get it out."

"Then why the heck did you try to drag me out in that stupid boat every weekend when I was a kid?" Shawn demanded.

"Did I?" Henry murmured, leaning across the table and placing his hand on Shawn's shoulder.

Shawn recoiled instinctively from the touch, but his father wasn't letting go. Henry squeezed his son's shoulder affectionately, meeting Shawn's eyes warmly. "If I did, Shawn, it's only because I wanted to spend time with you. You're my son."

Shawn looked over at Gus pleadingly, suddenly turning slightly green. "Gus…" he croaked helplessly, but Gus was grinning from ear to ear, enjoying watching his friend squirm uneasily way too much to be any help.

"What?" he laughed, picking up a cookie. "You're his son, Shawn. He wanted to spend time with you. And talk about feelings."

Henry nodded in agreement. "Yeah…feelings."

Shawn and Gus both could already see what was coming next, even before Henry opened his mouth again.

It was all happening in slow motion…just like a car crash in an action movie…

Only way less cool.

"Shawn…" Henry pressed on, smiling gently as he squeezed his son's shoulder again.

"Oh, God, Gus!" Shawn groaned frantically, his eyes widening in terror as he realized there was no way to stop it now. "Make it stop!"

"Hey…" Gus laughed, leaning back in his chair, not about to miss a moment of what was to come. "I'm a helpless victim, Shawn. The least I can do is enjoy it while it lasts."

"Gus!"

But it was too late.

Henry leaned forward, one hand gently touching the back of Shawn's head.

"I love you, Shawn."