A/N: Several quote credits to The Amazing Psych-Man & Tap Man, Issue No. 2 (Dear lord that's a long name)

No TW's.

Gus stared at the body of the woman he had dreamt about, still not quite comprehending what he was seeing. She looked like she was in her early thirties with wavy dark hair splayed around her head, covered in leaves and mud from the forest around them. He studied her face, trying to think if he recognized her.

"What's wrong with you two? It's like you've never seen a corpse before…" Lassiter grumbled as he moved around them to get a better look at the crime scene. "Unless you have something useful to add, get out of the way."

Juliet walked over, reading from the notes she had taken from the officer who had been the first one on scene. "Jane Doe, no identification, her body was found about an hour ago by a morning jogger."

Gus could feel Shawn start to scan the body and surrounding area, his thoughts building up on one another, looking for clues.

"It looks like her body was dumped here, no signs of a struggle…" Lassiter spoke, almost monotone, his thoughts completely even as he made his observations. "Restrained, strangled, burn pattern suggests electrocution. Shot, possibly execution style. This was clearly premeditated. We need to figure out who this woman was."

Shawn suddenly put a hand up to his head, his other one reaching out to the body. "Wrist, Lassie. Check her wrist."

Lassiter sighed and glared at being told what to do, but he knelt down and gently checked the inside of the wrist Shawn was indicating. His face fell as he saw a small, curved tattoo in the shape of a C. "Crap. She's involved in the Caminos…"

Shawn grabbed Gus by the arm and steered them away from the detectives as Juliet clarified, "The drug syndicate?"

Shawn waited until they were out of earshot before asking, "Do you know her?"

Gus shook his head, "I've never seen her before today. Shawn… why would I dream about a woman who was about to die when I don't even know her?!"

"I don't know, but we'll figure it out. Just calm down."

"You calm down!" Gus snapped, not ready to calm down yet, "I don't wanna dream about people who are about to die! The nightmares are bad enough when they're just about him and being burned alive!"

Shawn sighed with a small wince, "I know, but we don't know that's what happened. You didn't dream about the dead guy in the vampire case, right?"

Gus deflated and shook his head, "This was the first time."

"Well, I know Jules was called out to a few bodies while we were out of commission too, so it must be something about this girl specifically."

"Or it's something about me…" Gus spoke quietly, voicing his fear, "Maybe my powers are growing. That was one of the first questions he asked, remember?"

Shawn raised an eyebrow at him, "Of course I remember… I also remember that he didn't realize people could fake being a psychic. He was crazy, don't worry about what he said."

"Crazy enough to make this work…" Gus tapped his head and sighed, looking back at the dead woman. He had finally started to feel like he had a good handle on his new abilities, but all it took was one weird dream to tear down that confidence. He didn't want to think about how he would deal with his psychic sense if it became even stronger.

"You're spiraling." Shawn informed him helpfully.

Gus rolled his eyes and glared, "No shit, Sherlock."

Shawn grinned, "Who do you think would win in a fight, me or Sherlock?"

"He'd totally win." Gus decided to go with the distraction, it was better than thinking about the dream and its implications. "He was actually in shape."

"Round is a shape!" Shawn complained.

"Think back… when was the last time you actually won a fight? Not just survived it long enough for someone to help, but actually won?"

"... Does knocking someone out with a book count?"

Gus smirked at his victory, almost able to forget why this dead body was different than any other they'd seen.

Shawn glared at him, "Fine. But what about a deduction fight, huh? I could beat him with my hands tied behind my back."

Gus wasn't fooled, he could feel the relief and amusement in Shawn's thoughts. "You don't need your hands for deduction, and last I saw all you've 'deduced' so far is that she had a tattoo…"

"You want deduction? How's this?" Shawn held his hands up to his head and spun around, calling out as he walked back towards the detectives, "Lassie, I'm getting something else! It isn't chance that led us to this body."

Lassiter sighed, "No, it was a 911 call. Why are you still here?"

Shawn glanced at Juliet, "I bet you wish you got that coffee now. He's grumpy." He looked back at Lassiter, "Why dump the body next to a trail when there's a whole forest to hide her in?"

Juliet looked at the body, a cluster of bubbles shifting around at the new information, "She's a message. Someone wants the gang to know she was killed… That's not good."

"No, it's not…" Lassiter growled, "We need to call the Chief, let CSI do their thing... You two, beat it." Shawn started to snicker and the detective pointed at him in warning, "No. Out."

Juliet walked by them, a twinge of amusement cutting through the worry in her pop rock fizzles, "Don't worry, I'll let you know when the autopsy is."

A police cruiser pulled up and Buzz McNabb unfolded himself from the front seat, sipping from a large insulated cup. "Detectives! I was sent to-"

Lassiter cut him off, grabbing the coffee cup as he stalked past, "Make sure these idiots don't touch anything."

Buzz looked sadly at his empty hand before turning towards Shawn and Gus, "Uh, sorry guys, I need you to…" He gestured awkwardly at the Blueberry.

"Don't worry Buzz, that coffee may have just saved lives." Shawn consoled the police officer as they started to walk towards their car, "I see great things in your future today!"

Buzz smiled, "Thanks Shawn! I hope you have a good day too!"

They climbed into the car and watched as several vans and cars pulled up. Buzz started directing people towards the crime scene and Gus rubbed his fingers over his bracelet, keeping his shield up. Being in the car helped muffle the outside sensations, but he wasn't in the right head-space to be dealing with anything other than his own thoughts and emotions.

Shawn's thoughts clicked away next to him and Gus smiled slightly when he realized they weren't included in his definition of 'outside sensations.' The noise was such a constant companion in his life, it was just as comforting to hear as complete silence.

Shawn spoke up as he watched the dead woman get loaded into the coroner van, "Ok, I need you to tell me everything you remember about your dream."

Gus frowned, "I already told you everything…"

"No, you told me three things: electrocution, chained up and a collar. I need to know everything else, the little details. Give me clues to fill in the picture. I need the cream center of a twinkie, the caulk in a crack, the hotdog in a bun, the gas in a can, whatever it is they put in those doughnuts that tastes like diabetes and makes you glad for the disease… What was the question?"

Gus sighed, "The dream."

"Yes, the dream. Tell me, start at the beginning. Details."

"Uh… ok. It was dark, I couldn't see-"

Shawn interrupted, "She couldn't see."

Gus glared, "Who's dream is this again? Unless you ran through a forest of burning bookcases when you were shot, then not everything in my dreams line up exactly with what happened in real life."

Shawn made a face, "Fine. It's just weird."

"Tell me about it…" Shawn opened his mouth and Gus quickly cut him off, "Forget I said that, don't tell me about it… " He waited a moment to make sure Shawn wasn't going to tell him about it anyways before continuing, "I was kneeling on a hard floor, it was cold…"

Gus quickly recounted as much of the dream as he could remember. Shawn frowned once he was done, "A Russian? We don't have any Russian gangs… so why was he trying to get information from her…"

Gus shrugged, "Maybe it wasn't gang related?"

"Remember Camp Tikihama where we made the Cool Cats Club? If you messed with one of us, you messed with all of us."

"Sure." Gus agreed before frowning, "Unless you messed with Joey… I'd let you mess with Joey. He shoved me into the lake!"

"Oh, yeah, sure. He was a jerk." Shawn said quickly, a thought quickly flaring in alarm before being snuffed out.

Gus studied his friend. "Oh my god. He wasn't the one who pushed me in, was he?"

"Whaaaaat? Pfsh, do you hear what you're saying?" Shawn's hand slowly crept to the door handle, "Hey, remember the corpse and the case and the cops that are standing right there and will witness anything that totally won't happen because it was totally Joey who-"

"Shawn! Why did you push me in the lake?!" Gus exclaimed, forgetting everything else around him.

"Dude, we live next to an ocean! You had to learn to swim eventually!"

"I could have drowned!"

"It wasn't even three feet deep!" Shawn hissed.

Gus hissed right back, "It only takes a few inches of water to drown, Shawn!"

"Please, I wouldn't have let you drown. I would have saved you."

"You hate water, you didn't go in the lake all summer."

Shawn threw up his hands, "Fine, I would have gotten Joey to save you. Can we please get back to the dead person and why she was killed?!"

"Fine." Gus grumbled before firing one last shot, "I can't believe you let me hate Joey for all of those years…"

"Yeah well, he's not here and I am. And you know how to swim. So I'd say I made the right choice." Shawn stuck out his tongue before continuing, "Someone wanted the gang to know one of theirs was killed. You don't do that unless you want the whole gang after you. No one person would be that dumb… So, rival gang."

Gus nodded, "That makes sense. So we need to tell Lassie and Jules about the Russian angle, right?"

Shawn shook his head, "Not yet, we can't give them too much at once. Look how overwhelmed poor Lassie already was…" Gus glared, waiting for the real reason. "... And I can't give them too much at once because the spirits don't work that way."

Gus frowned in confusion, "The 'spirits' have never had rules…"

"Oh, they've had plenty of rules. I've just changed them when it was convenient." Shawn grinned before continuing more seriously, "I never would have had something that specific this early before. I know the Chief is already suspicious of my psychic accuracy since we got back, we can't push it."

Gus thought about his logic. They had both agreed to keep his new ability secret; the more people who knew about it, the greater the risk that Gus would end up in a lab or Shawn would be outed as a fake. Neither one of them wanted to risk it, especially given their latest experience with an overzealous federal agent and a mad scientist.

"Ok, so we do things like we normally would, investigate then bring the information to them later when there's more proof."

"Exactly!" Shawn agreed happily, though Gus could feel the relief running under the words. "We need to learn more about the Caminos…"

"Nuh-uh." Gus immediately argued, "We are not going undercover in a gang. You know that's one of my rules Shawn."

"What? No! We don't need to go to a gang…" Shawn held up his phone, showing a map with a waypoint marked, "We need to go to jail."

"Shawn. I'm the one driving. You can't just stop talking after saying something like that." Gus pointed out in annoyance.

Shawn matched his annoyance, "You just ruined the moment! You're a moment killer, you know that?"

Gus turned off the car and crossed his arms, waiting.

"Fine. We need to talk to Reginald Parker. This is the facility he's at. Happy?"

"The Mantis?" Gus nodded as he thought it through and restarted the car, "He knows everything about the Caminos… Yes, now I'm happy."

"He probably would have single-handedly taken them down if we hadn't stopped him…" Shawn grumbled, obviously still annoyed at how the vigilante case had ended.

Gus backed up and drove away from the crime scene, "I thought you didn't like him…"

"I don't! Or, I don't like that Jules liked him… But you can't deny he was doing good work."

"Sure, but he was damned lucky he didn't get killed before we figured him out."

Shawn nodded in agreement before dialing the jail and quickly setting up a visit. He hung up and they drove several miles in quiet, both lost in their thoughts.

Gus suddenly groaned in realization, "Dude… we're going to a prison."

Shawn looked at him, confused, "Yeah, I know. We literally just talked about that."

Gus shook his head, "No, I mean… we're going to a prison." He held his hand to his head and sighed. Shawn clasped his shoulder in sympathy as Gus whined, "Today sucks."

The good news about prisons, Gus decided, were the nice thick walls. He felt tense and jumpy, never letting go of his bracelet as he kept his shield up, but he didn't feel any murderous thoughts as they were escorted to the visiting room.

A man in a prison jumpsuit was already sitting at the table. His brown hair wasn't as neat as it used to be and he had a faded bruise around one of his eyes, but Gus still recognized the reporter-turned-vigilante. He could smell a leather jacket and hear the clacking of a typewriter as Reginald saw them and gave a small wave.

"I have to say, I wasn't expecting a visit from you two." Reginald said as he watched them sit down, "Is this a 'gloat about the arrest' visit, or…?"

Gus decided they should try to clear the air before asking for information, "We're sorry about that. For the record, we didn't think you'd get arrested. Vigilantism by itself isn't illegal."

"No, but most of the things vigilantes actually do…" Shawn pointed out, unhelpfully. Gus kicked him under the table without thinking and immediately regretted it when Shawn jumped in his chair, his thoughts stuttering at remembered pain.

Gus mouthed an apology for kicking the previously-broken leg as Reginald spoke up, "It's ok, I knew what I was doing was illegal. I'm only here for a few months… In some ways it's for the best. I'm working on a new opinion piece about our criminal justice system and I'm actually safer in here than out there now that the Caminos know who I am."

"Safer?" Gus asked while pointedly looking at the faded bruise.

The leather smell filled with pride even as Reginald ducked his head and tried to downplay the injury, "Oh, this? It's nothing, it was just a small disagreement. Why are you here?"

"We actually want to ask you about the Caminos." Shawn sat forward, "They may be involved in a case and you're basically an expert on them."

Reginald looked between them with a small frown, "Why? I've already told the police everything I know…"

"Ah, but we aren't the police." Shawn declared proudly.

"No, you aren't… You're a psychic detective, right?" Reginald asked, the typewriter clacking louder as the reporter sensed a story. "I've never seen anything like your power, it was extraordinary. You knew who I was the second we were in the same building."

Shawn grinned, "I am pretty awesome, aren't I?"

Gus rolled his eyes and really wished kicking the fake-psychic was still on the table. Or, rather, under the table.

"You really are." The reporter smiled in admiration, "What made you decide to use your powers for the police? I looked you up after you outed me, you've only been helping solve cases for a few years…"

"Ah, well that is quite the story to tell." Shawn practically preened at the attention.

"Shawn…" Gus interrupted quietly. They had a time limit on their visit after all.

Shawn sighed, "But that will have to wait for another day. I know you've already talked to the police, but I have my own ways of reading answers. And I need to hear them from you. Tell us everything you know about the Caminos; assume we know nothing."

"Can't you just read my mind?" Reginald asked curiously. Gus could see him already outlining a new article about crime-fighting psychics.

"Oh, I'll be reading your mind plenty. But my partner here, Dick Richards-"

"Shawn, he knows my name."

"-is completely ordinary and boring. Really I should have told you to tell him everything, assume he knows nothing."

Gus clicked his tongue as Shawn's thoughts ponged in amusement.

Reginald shrugged and started talking, watching Shawn carefully, "Well, the Camino Drug Syndicate is one of the largest gangs in Santa Barbara. As I'm sure you know by the name, they deal almost exclusively in drugs and, even worse, they're expanding. They recently took control of all cocaine production from rival gangs."

"I bet those were the bodies Jules got called out to and wouldn't tell me about…" Shawn whispered to Gus. He turned back to Reginald, "If they're so big, how were you able to take them on?"

"Well, the Caminos always operate in small groups during their transactions. It gives them greater speed and mobility, but it makes them vulnerable if you know where they're going to be. With my martial arts background, I knew I could take three or four of them at a time, so the Mantis was born."

"I bet I could take three or four of them…" Shawn whispered again.

Gus whispered back, "In your dreams."

Shawn turned back to Reginald, "How did you know where they were going to be?"

The reporter smirked as he gave the time-honored answer, "I had my sources." He leaned forward, "Tell me, have you ever thought about working undercover for the police? With your ability, you could learn so much more than a non-psychic… you would be an invaluable asset."

"Oh, we've gone undercover plenty." Gus pointed out. "But the cops don't like us going anywhere dangerous since we're technically still civilians."

Reginald sighed, grumbling to himself, "That damned red tape again… I wonder how many lives it's actually cost us."

Shawn traded a look with Gus before moving on, "What did you do when you weren't disrupting the drug deals? You were the Mantis for almost a month, right?"

Reginald nodded, "I went out most nights; studying their organization, trying to learn how they were moving so much product. I wish I had just a little more time… I still can't figure out how the drugs are getting to the syndicate. I looked into some of the creative ways to smuggle drugs these days: inside children's toys, seafood shipments, plastics…"

Shawn suddenly stilled, his eyes moving rapidly as his thoughts crested. Gus frowned and focused on the sound: He was looking over a rooftop, watching men shout orders with guns. He focused on several large wood crates in the back, the words 'fragile' and 'glass' seemed to glow and jump out at him.

"Shawn!" Gus remembered his suspicions from the night before and mentally kicked himself for thinking the text message exchange had been proof of Shawn being safe.

"Shhh… I'm having a vision..."

Reginald sat forward, watching in interest.

Gus refused to back down, too caught up in the fact that Shawn had put himself in danger without any backup, "I knew it! I knew-"

Shawn glared at him, "SHH! Clearly I'm in the middle of something here!"

"I can not believe-"

"Suck it!" Shawn cut him off, his eyes flicking to Reginald pointedly.

Gus didn't care, "You suck it!"

"You suck it."

Their argument quickly dissolved into angry hissing gibberish as Shawn broadcast a quick series of reminders: Reginald, an unwritten newspaper article about psychics, the guard's ticking watch.

"Fine." Gus snapped out, crossing his arms and slouching in the chair.

Reginald looked between them with an extremely confused look on his face as Shawn turned back to him, speaking as though nothing had happened, "What about glass?"

It took Reginald a moment to remember what they had been talking about, but then he frowned in thought, "I suppose that could work, yeah. You could embed the cocaine in the glass and then melt it later to separate it back out."

Shawn grinned at solving yet another mystery before pasting on a look of concentration and holding his hand to his head, "I can see it now. The drugs, as panes of glass, loaded into cargo containers. Lots of them. In a shipment yard starting with n-o… no… no…"

"Nosco." Gus realized, pushing back his frustrations as they solved the mystery, "That's a cargo company, they ship from overseas…"

Shawn and Gus looked at each other as Reginald continued to talk in the background. Shawn broadcasted a thought: An Indiana-Jones-esque map, a dotted line traveling from Russia towards Santa Barbara.

Gus nodded in agreement before cutting off the reporter mid-monologue, "Thank you for your time, you've been very helpful, we need to go now."

"You're going to tell the police about this, right?" Reginald asked earnestly, "Your vision, they need to know."

"I always tell them about my visions." Shawn reassured him, " We're police consultants, that's what we do."

Reginald relaxed with a large smile, "This could be enough to take them down for good. You're about to make the streets of Santa Barbara safer for everyone."

"It's all in a day's work. Take care Reginald."

"Wait! I answered your questions, I think I've earned a few of my own."

Shawn hesitated as he looked towards the door, his urge for attention clearly fighting with his urge to follow up on their lead. Gus sighed and settled back into his chair, knowing which one his friend was going to pick.

Shawn smirked at Gus' action and folded his hands on the table. "That seems fair. What do you want to know?"

"You see spirits, have visions, read minds, sense auras… is there anything you can't do?"

"I can't cook." Shawn replied immediately, "I also can't figure out how to moonwalk… it seems like it should be so simple."

"But, psychically." Reginald continued stubbornly, "It seems like you can do… everything. Are there any limits?"

"Of course there are," Shawn answered easily, "But I'm good enough at my job that they don't matter."

"Your job as a police consultant, right? With your abilities, why don't you work full-time for the police? Just having you sit in on interrogations to know when people are telling the truth…"

Shawn's smile hardened slightly as he asked, "And what if I don't want to be a human lie detector?"

Reginald's thoughts clacked as he realized he had gone too far, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that. I know you guys do good work. I just figure there's always something else we can do, right?"

"We help catch murderers…" Shawn reminded him, "I think we're already doing more than the average Joe."

"Yes, but the average person doesn't have your abilities either. I saw there was something wrong in this world and I saw I had the ability to do something about it. Isn't it the same for you? You have the potential to be something great, to do even more good. Don't you want that?"

"He's more than just a psychic you know." Gus snapped out, not able to keep quiet any longer. "He didn't ask for these abilities and he already does good work with what he's got. The world doesn't have a right to ask for more."

Shawn raised an eyebrow, clearly knowing Gus was talking about more than just Shawn's abilities. "I think my partner said it best, and I think it's time to go."

The smell of leather spiked as Reginald spoke quickly, still stuck in his vigilante mindset, "Wait, you don't want to change how you work, I get it. But you could still help make things better. Maybe you could use your ability to find other psychics that would be willing to help the police more. Or maybe there's something in how your mind works that could help others, I'm sure there's someone who could study-"

"Yeah, no. We're done." Shawn stood up quickly and Gus gladly followed.

They were walking out the door when Reginald called out, "With great power, comes-"

Shawn spun around, "Oh my god, could you be more cliche? I'm honestly embarrassed that it took me as long as it did to peg you as the Mantis. You're a reporter, you wear glasses, and your last name is Parker. No wonder your opinion pieces suck, you have no originality. Enjoy prison."

Gus only caught a glimpse of Reginald's confused and hurt face before the door swung shut. He couldn't say he felt sorry for the reporter, Shawn had a point. He hurried off after his friend, ready to get away from the oppressive thick walls.

Shawn's phone dinged with a text as they climbed back into the car. "Jules says Woody's almost done with the autopsy. The man works fast…"

Gus nodded in acknowledgement and started driving towards the police station. He stayed quiet, thinking about what the ex-vigilante had said.

Shawn watched him carefully before shrugging and bringing them back to the case. "So the Russians send the drugs, the Caminos sell them and send money back…"

"Shawn." Gus interrupted, suddenly remembering how his friend had known about the drug shipments.

Shawn continued as though he hadn't heard, "But the syndicate's operation was almost completely stopped for a month by a walking cliche in a ski mask, that can't look very good to the suppliers…"

"Shawn!" Gus snapped, not willing to put the conversation off any longer.

"So they send someone over to make sure things are still running right… But why leave a message?"

"Shawn Henry Spencer, stop ignoring me!"

"Because they want to take over! There's clearly a market here and they don't trust the Caminos to do it properly anymore… And Santa Barbara's small enough to take over, but big enough to be a foothold for the entire Western coast!"

Gus gave up and reached over, smacking Shawn on the back of his head.

"Ow! What was that for?!"

"Why didn't you tell me you were still looking into the Caminos?"

"Because I didn't have anything." Shawn's thoughts suddenly quieted as he tried to suppress them, still rubbing the back of his head. "I knew when the next deal was and followed them back to their base. I stayed safe, I was just looking. You didn't need to worry."

"Are you seriously trying to hide something? From me?"

"Nope." More thoughts went silent as Shawn let his hand drop and stared out the window, eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

Gus narrowed his eyes, refusing to back down. "New Star Wars is better than the original."

Several thoughts popped up, ponging furiously before being snuffed out again. Shawn shifted in his seat, but stayed quiet.

"The Breakfast Club is overrated, it's just another generic coming-of-age movie."

Shawn clenched his jaw and crossed his arms as more thoughts tried to escape.

"Val Kilmer-"

"Nope. Nope, no. Noooooooo. You do not diss Val." All of Shawn's thoughts bounced back into existence at his indignation.

Gus focused quickly before Shawn could try to hide anything again, "Shawn! If something is dangerous enough that you decide to keep me out of the loop to protect me, then it's too dangerous for you to be dealing with it without backup!"

"It wasn't dangerous!" Shawn exclaimed, "I was just looking, I didn't even go down there!"

"And how many times has 'just looking' escalated into something worse, huh? I'm not doing this, I'm not dealing with reckless-Shawn again. Last time you got a whole boat held hostage before you'd listen to me!"

"Fine! Then don't do it."

Gus gripped the steering wheel tighter, "Oh great, this song and dance again? Here I thought you liked originality!"

Shawn opened his mouth before pausing, his thoughts suddenly returning to their normal cadence, "...ok, that was actually a pretty good zinger."

"Thank you." Gus acknowledged as he felt his own emotions settle, "Would you just let me in on it next time? It should be impossible for a bad guy to sneak up on us if we're both there. And you know my Jackal-mode's better than yours."

"Pfsh, please. I'm a master stealther. Do you have any idea how many times I've followed you and you didn't know it?"

"Do you know how many times I've followed you?" Gus shot back.

Shawn scoffed, "You have not…"

"What's that bagel place called? The Third Wheel?" Gus asked with a smirk.

"No… You read that from my mind! There's no way-"

Gus cut him off, waving his hand mysteriously through the air. "The Jackal."

Shawn pointed at him, "Way better name than The Mantis."

Gus pointed back, "You know that's right."

He relaxed at the lightened mood and almost wished he didn't have to bring them back on-topic. "You didn't agree… I need to hear you say it."

"Say what?" Shawn asked innocently.

Gus rolled his eyes at the obvious act. He pitched his voice higher with a shrill edge, "Yes, Gus, you are absolutely right. You are always right. I'll listen to you every time you say something and I won't ever lie to you again."

Shawn's lips twitched, "And Juliet thought my girl voice was bad…"

"I mean it Shawn," Gus said, dropping the falsetto voice, "no more lone-wolfing things."

Shawn looked at him and answered evenly, "I'm not gonna promise to stop trying to protect you."

"Good, you better not." Gus huffed, "And I'm not going to stop complaining when you get me into situations where I need to be protected. But I can't protect you if I'm left out of the loop. Let me have a choice."

Shawn narrowed his eyes as he thought, "I can't promise that either." He held out a hand to stop Gus' protest. "I won't go off alone without someone knowing where I am. That's the best I can give you."

Gus drummed his fingers on the wheel in annoyance, "Fine. But last I checked we were partners, not only-around-when-it's-convenient-ers."

"Aww, Gus. You bad-grammared me. I love you too."

Gus rolled his eyes and grumbled about stubborn best friends as he focused on the road to the police station.

A/N: Thank you everyone who have left wonderful reviews. I appreciate all of you.