The halls were eerily quiet at night. Where a bustling crowd usually moved, there was now a stifling emptiness. The quiet jingling of Shawn's leash seemed to almost echo along the bare walls. They'd both agreed to at least appear to be following the rules until they were past the point of no return.

They were actually doing this.

Gus tapped his pocket nervously even as he tried to look less suspicious. It wouldn't make sense for someone to search his pockets, but the lockpicks seemed to glow hot against his leg. There really wasn't any good reason for him to be carrying them around…

"I really, really hope this works," he finally muttered, needing to break the oppressive quiet.

"Same," Shawn whispered back. They stopped at the door to the administrator's office and he glanced around. "You don't have to stay…"

"Yeah, I do." Gus pulled out his lockpicks and quickly grabbed the two he'd probably need. "It'd be helpful for you to keep a lookout."

"...Ok," Shawn said reluctantly, clearly still wishing Gus wasn't taking risks. He'd have to deal with it, because Gus refused to feel guilty for not leaving him. Shawn took up a position, standing right in front of the door so Gus wouldn't be easily seen.

Gus inserted the tools, falling back on the comforting familiarity of the actions. He knew what to do; what happened before and what happened after didn't matter. Not yet, anyway.

The picks in his hands vibrated softly as he found the pins. The last one slid into place and he twisted the tools, easily unlocking the door.

"Nice," Shawn whispered. Gus grinned at the compliment and swung the door open. They were actually doing this. It was officially one of the coolest things he'd ever done. And the most terrifying. They were so screwed if they were caught… He entered the room and waited for Shawn to follow before closing the door and turning on the lights.

Considering how much buildup had gone into the plan, the office was rather plain. Filing cabinets lined the wall, stacks of papers covered the desk, and the computer looked like it had been built at least five years ago. Was this all for nothing? Was there even anything worth stealing?

Gus unclipped Shawn's leash and held out a pair of latex gloves he'd swiped from the chemistry lab. Shawn raised an eyebrow, but put them on without a fight. "You really think they're going to dust for prints?"

"It doesn't hurt to be careful." He'd be damned if they were caught for something so simple. If he was going to break the law, then he was going to do it right.

Jesus, what would his parents think?

Gus shook his head and ignored the thoughts. He couldn't let himself be distracted; he had a job to do. Someone had to keep Shawn safe. He pulled on his own gloves and moved to the filing cabinets. Maybe there'd be some important paperwork that would do the job.

Shawn looked around, seemingly at random, as Gus opened one of the drawers. Would the admins actually keep important documents in an unlocked cabinet? Maybe it would be a good thing if he didn't find anything good… At least it would save him from feeling second-hand embarrassment for his college.

"They won't notice if you take anything from there," Shawn said offhandedly as he bent down and opened the drawers to the desk, his eyes locked on the task.

"We could break the cabinet so they'd notice it," Gus argued. "Or we could just break a lot of stuff and not even steal anything."

"And then they'd take days to figure out if anything was stolen. Besides, planting evidence works better when it's not hidden by a huge mess."

Which made an annoying amount of sense... How many times had Shawn done this? Gus closed the drawer back up as he asked, "So what will they notice?"

"Something personal… or valuable." Shawn's head cocked to the side and he moved up next to Gus. "Something like that."

Gus looked up and saw a decorative box with several coins featured prominently in it. He looked closer, recognizing several of the mint-condition tender. "But that's only worth a few hundred bucks… Seven fifty at most."

"How do you know that?"

"Because I collect buffalo nickels." Surely Shawn had noticed. Gus nodded towards the box. "There's no way that's worth enough to fire someone over."

"It is if it's the only personal thing in the whole room. Plus, I don't think they like him much."

"How do you know that?"

Shawn shrugged and picked up the coins, leaving the metal stand behind. "It's more of a vibe than anything. They never smile at him when they walk past, and he's always extra grumpy afterwards... This'll work."

He studied them for a second before handing them over. Gus took the box and watched with a queasy stomach as Shawn pulled out a carefully folded paper towel. "That is so gross."

Shawn shrugged and opened the bundle to show the wad of chewing tobacco inside. "At least he's predictable."

Shawn deserved better than a man predictably spitting tobacco at him… The thrill of breaking the rules was joined by the dark satisfaction of knowing the man was going to pay. Gus looked around and nodded at a trashcan next to the desk. "In there?"

"They won't notice it in there. Free people don't-" Shawn winced and quickly moved on. "It needs to be more obvious. Although…" He grinned and gripped the paper towel carefully as he took aim. He made a noise like he was spitting as he let the wad fly, and the tobacco splattered on the side of the can. "That they'll notice."

"Like he was aiming for the can and missed," Gus said in approval. "Nice."

Shawn grinned at the compliment. "Think we're done here."

Gus grinned back. "Know where you're going to plant the coins?"

"Oh, I've got an idea." Shawn nodded towards the door and Gus followed him. He was just reaching for the lightswitch when Shawn held his hand up with an intense look on his face. Gus paused and listened with all of his might, just barely hearing soft footfalls on the other side of the door.

He held his breath, willing the other person to keep walking by. They wouldn't be able to explain why they were here. They wouldn't be able to explain how they'd gotten in. Hell, they wouldn't even be able to explain why Shawn didn't have his leash on… His hand stayed frozen over the lightswitch, unable to risk drawing attention to the thin strip of light under the door.

The footsteps grew louder before fading away as the person walked by without stopping. Gus sagged in relief, but Shawn didn't put his hand down for another few seconds, his face creased in concentration. He finally nodded for Gus to go ahead, but pointed towards his collar in silence. Gus nodded reluctantly as he dug the leash back out. It was better to be safe, but it definitely put a damper on things.

Gus handed the coins to Shawn as he clicked the leash into place, and Shawn tucked the box in the back of his jeans before covering it with his shirt. If they were going to be safe, then they were going to be as safe as humanly possible.

It had been the right call. Gus' heart pounded as they passed another person on the way to the janitor's closet. Gus nodded to the woman, trying to make his eyes look tired even as adrenaline hummed through his veins. He was just a sleep-deprived student bringing his slave home; nothing to see here.

The woman passed by without a second glance, and Gus found himself relaxing as they stopped at the janitor's door. They were almost done, and nothing terrible had happened.

He knew better than to say it out loud, though. After directing Shawn to play lookout again, he quickly picked the lock. It was almost insulting how easy they were… The door swung open smoothly and Shawn wasted no time in stepping in and pulling the coins out.

It was endearing how cocky he looked as he lifted up a bundle of rags and slid the box under them. Gus glanced down the empty hall and whispered, "Are you sure he won't find it first?"

"Administrators get here before janitors do," Shawn answered back just as quietly. He glanced at the hiding space, almost indecisively, before nodding. "It'll be fine. I've got a good feeling about it." He went to walk away before turning back and adjusting the rags so the corner of the coin box was showing. "Just in case."

"Free people don't see more than we think, huh?" Gus asked with a smirk.

"Something like that," Shawn answered, almost apologetically.

Gus shrugged; it was just a fact that Shawn saw more than him. He closed the door and made sure nothing looked out of the ordinary before jerking his head towards their room. "Celebration snacks and a movie?"

"It's past midnight…"

"I'm too wired to sleep."

"You know I'll never say no to snacks," Shawn said with a grin.

He'd never say 'no' period. Gus shoved down the negative thought and offered, "Mission Impossible?"

"That is a mission that I choose to accept."

Gus huffed a laugh and turned his back on the door. "Let's just hope this one doesn't self-destruct in our faces."

"I don't think that makes as much sense as you think," Shawn retorted, continuing the quiet argument as they walked away from their crime scene.

Neither of them slept that night. Mission Impossible was followed by Point Break which was followed by a strange hybrid game of chess and poker. It was a good thing they didn't bet anything on it, because Gus lost with almost half of his chess pieces still on the board.

He was three mugs of coffee deep into the day when the sun finally broke the horizon. The first alarm on his clock went off, and he glanced at the door, half-expecting the cops to kick it down. "I guess it's time to start the day."

"Yeah." Shawn glanced at the door too before tentatively saying, "You know, you don't have to come with me to the showers every morning…"

"You really think I'm going to let a drunk bully get you sent home after doing all of this?" Gus shook his head in exasperation and went to the closet to collect his things. It's not like he was going to sleep in until his second alarm anyway; there wasn't any reason to not go and protect Shawn. Especially today.

The back of Gus' neck prickled as they walked down the hallway together, and he strained his ears, listening for any hints of accusations. Surely someone knew they'd broken the rules; it felt like the evidence clung to him, shouting their crimes for the world to know. They'd framed an innocent man and were hoping to cost him his job.

No, not an innocent man. Just someone who was committing crimes that no one cared about.

"Relax, no one's even awake yet," Shawn murmured as they reached the bathroom door.

Gus really wanted to snap back, 'You relax,' but it was too early to deal with the collar thinking non-orders were orders. Instead, he just grumbled, "I'll relax tonight when everything's done."

Shawn didn't continue the argument, and they split up to their separate stalls. Shawn always took fast showers, and it wasn't safe for him to be alone. Gus forced his suddenly sluggish hands to scrub quickly and he barely let himself notice the comforting heat on his shoulders before he was turning the faucet off again. Even with his rushing, Shawn was still waiting for him when he came out. Gus couldn't help but complain, "How do you shower so fast?"

Shawn shrugged. "A slave's time is spent serving its master."

"I don't even know why I bothered asking." He really should know better by now. Though, the Shawn who'd been taught those phrases probably wouldn't have trusted him enough to ask him to break the law. The thought cheered Gus up as the door opened behind him.

He quickly spun around, his hands clenching into fists, but it wasn't the bully coming for round two. Penny ducked her head down as she saw him, her shoulders drawing up as she quickly walked to a shower stall. The movement made her shirt fall down one of her arms and he couldn't help but notice that the long t-shirt was all she was wearing. Again.

Shawn's reaction to her was interesting too, his eyes staying locked on her as his hands twitched by his side. It was too bad that she was so skittish around them, especially considering how obvious it was that she was the reason Shawn was taking so many risks. Shawn needed a distraction.

And Gus really needed to know what was going on downstairs. "Hey, want to get breakfast in the food hall today?"

Shawn huffed a laugh, clearly knowing what Gus was doing. "Sure, breakfast sounds good." He hesitated for one last second, eyeing up the curtain separating him from Penny before following Gus out of the door.

Nothing happened during breakfast, and Shawn shot down the idea of hanging out in the study rooms afterwards. "It'd be suspicious to do too many things differently than normal."

Which left Gus just pacing in their room as time ticked down to Shawn's drop-off time. "What if they don't find it? What if they do find it and nothing happens? What if he knows it was you?"

Shawn rattled off the answers as he ticked them off of his fingers. "The janitor finds it and has to prove he didn't do it, we just pin something else on him, he only notices me when I need a shock."

"Why am I the only one who's worried?" Gus asked the universe in general.

"Because it's done and whatever happens happens," Shawn said, clearly not trusting his collar to know the question wasn't actually aimed at him. "And whatever happens is better than what would have happened if we didn't do something."

"Does she even know you're into her?"

Shawn's jaw dropped as his calm demeanor finally broke. "I am not into her!"

"You didn't even have to ask who I was talking about," Gus smugly pointed out. It was about time Shawn showed some emotions. "I know crushes; you're totally into her."

"No, I'm not. She's a slave," Shawn said like it was a clear end to the conversation.

There was no way Gus was letting it end there. "Newsflash, so are you."

"Slaves don't get crushes."

"And yet, here we are." It was oddly satisfying being able to channel his frustration into the argument.

Shawn didn't seem to be enjoying it nearly as much. He snapped out, "She's a slave. She's not a person, you don't get crushes on tools."

"Why not?" Gus countered. "If a boy hammer sees a girl hammer and thinks, 'Man, I'd let her claw take out my nails,' what's wrong with that?"

Shawn gave him a bewildered stare. "... Hammers?"

"I said what I said."

Shawn groaned in frustration. "She's not hers; I'm not mine. There's nothing to have a crush on" –his voice grew harsher– "because we don't get to decide those things!"

"Last I checked, no one decides who they get a crush on." It was pretty obvious that wasn't what Shawn meant, so it was a relief in more ways than one when his computer dinged out an email notification. Gus quickly abandoned the conversation and checked his screen, reading out loud. "Dear students… Due to unforeseen circumstances, the janitorial program won't be running today…"

"And I think I see why," Shawn answered as he looked out the window. Gus joined him and looked down, seeing the janitor being escorted to his truck by campus security. The man wasn't going quietly, his arms flailing in the air as he yelled at the people following him. It was a glorious sight.

Elation ran through Gus' veins and all of his stress melted away instantly. They'd done it; it was over. Shawn and the rest of the slaves were safe. Gus bounced on his toes, unable to keep it in as he grinned. "Look at him go."

"Like a little hulk ant on steroids," Shawn said happily, none of his previous frustration showing.

"Who's dealing with nicotine withdrawal," Gus added. The bouncing wasn't good enough, he was too happy to keep it contained. His feet started a simple tap and he let his body move with it.

Shawn looked at him in confusion. "What… What are you doing?"

"I am happy dancing." Gus changed the movements into the Peanut dance in demonstration. "You should try it. It's fun."

Shawn raised an eyebrow, but his lips curled up into a smirk as he did a quick two-step shuffle. It was the perfect ending to the perfect plan. Gus held out his fist with a grin. "To a successful heist."

Shawn's fist met his halfway, like he'd been expecting it. "To a successful heist."

The rush of success carried Gus through to the weekend and it still left a spring in his step when he went to answer a knock at their door. He had to do a double-take when he saw the person on the other side. Rowan ran their hand along their new haircut with a self-conscious smile. "I know. It's ok; you don't have to say you like it."

Their shaggy green hair had been buzzed on the sides and spiked up on the top, with frosted tips making it look like they'd stuck their fingers in an electrical socket. After getting over his initial shock, Gus realized he wasn't lying when he said, "It suits you."

Rowan gave him a large grin. "Thanks! I went to the cosmetology building; they're always looking for people to practice on."

There was a cosmetology building? It seemed like no matter how much Gus explored campus, there was always something else to learn about it. "That was a good idea. So, did you come by for something?"

"Uh, yeah actually. Your advice last time was good, I was hoping you could give me another slave lesson."

The week just kept looking up. Gus checked back with Shawn, who nodded in agreement before going to kneel in the corner. It wasn't exactly what Gus would have wanted, but Shawn seemed to do it deliberately this time instead of losing his fight against his instincts. Which seemed important. "Yeah, come on in."

"Ok, so," Rowan started immediately as they walked in. "Your idea on the food worked. Well, kinda. She's not super relaxed or anything, more confused, but she's eating more and I haven't eaten any of the leftovers. I don't think she has either, but at least she knows they're for her, right?"

"Right," Gus agreed as he made his way to his desk. "That sounds like good progress."

"Good. So, what do I do next?"

Gus had planned for this; he had a twelve-step plan and everything. But a detail from that morning in the bathroom stuck out to him. He threw the plan away as he asked, "How do you decide what she wears?"

Rowan frowned, clearly caught off guard by the question. "I dunno… I guess I give her the clothes that I don't care about?"

"Even her pajamas?"

"Ah. Those were from a boyfriend who… didn't really work out. I didn't want to get rid of them, but didn't want to wear them. I figured giving them to her was the best option."

"But do you think she wants to wear them?" Gus pressed. If Rowan was going to keep coming to him for advice, then he was going to start working on how they thought about slaves.

"That question doesn't make sense," Rowan answered, looking frustrated. "Slaves don't want things."

"Why not?"

"Because slaves think differently than people."

"But why do you think they're different?" Gus argued. "Especially when free people can become slaves."

"Because they were trained to think differently." Rowan's voice took on an edge, like they were explaining something obvious. "Slavebred are born slaves and brought up with their different ways of thinking. It's in their blood. Slaveturned, on the other hand, only became that way because they were dangerous or a drain on the system. Collaring them is the only way they can be useful, and they have to be taught how to think right. Either way gets you the same result."

How dare they think that about Shawn? "That 'result' is just a person who's terrified of doing the wrong thing."

"Even you treat them differently." Rowan pointed at him accusingly. "You said they have to be taught how to make choices. That they have to have obvious things explained to them."

"Because they're scared of being hurt," Gus repeated, his blood rushing in his ears. "Not because they innately think differently."

"It's the same thing." Rowan turned to the other side of the room. "Shawn-"

"Don't you dare." Gus sprung up from his desk and placed himself between the two of them. How had he thought they were one of the good ones? Shawn was right; all masters were the same. "You've completely ignored him until he had something you wanted. You don't get to bring him in now."

"You just don't like that he'd say I'm right," Rowan snapped back, springing to their own feet.

"You're wrong, and if you'd get your head out of your ass long enough to stop seeing absolutes everywhere, then maybe you'd figure that out!"

Rowan's hands clenched into fists. "No wonder he keeps getting into trouble. You confuse him so much, he doesn't even know which way to act."

"Get out," Gus spat.

"Gladly. I don't know why I bothered coming here." Rowan stalked out of the room, slamming the door behind them.

Sharp pain dug into Gus' palms, and he clenched his hands harder to bleed off the angry energy. No one talked like that about Shawn.

Shit. Shawn. He just had to hear all of that...

Gus forced his hands to relax as he turned around. "They were wrong."

"I… know," Shawn said hesitantly, his eyebrows drawn tight together.

Did he really just agree with him? The sudden loss of tension at not having another argument to fight had Gus asking, "You do?"

Shawn nodded, still looking unsure as he explained, "I've been… talking to Penny. In the mornings. And she's…" He set his jaw in determination. "She's not just a useful tool."

Holy crap. It was the closest Shawn had ever come to admitting that slaves were people. And then Gus put two and two together and had to fight to not groan and freak Shawn out. Penny had shown up early every morning, but Shawn hadn't been able to talk to her while Gus was there. "You're right; she's not just a tool. Neither of you are."

"But…" Shawn tensed as he continued, "Rowan wasn't all wrong, either."

"Maybe, but they were still wrong about the why." It was wrong, having this conversation while Shawn knelt at his feet. The urge to pace or punch something lessened as Gus sat next to him instead. "You didn't deserve to be conditioned to think like you do just because you needed support. And Penny didn't deserve it any more than her parents did."

"I was a drain, though," Shawn answered quietly. "They gave me a chance in foster care, and I didn't do good enough. A-And, I'm useful now."

It was time for a new tactic. "Do you think I need to be useful?"

Shawn sighed and crossed his arms. "That's not the same. You're in college; you'll be useful in society soon."

"Are you sure? I pick locks, I've broken the law, I start fights all of the time…"

Shawn's face paled, but he still argued, "You only do those because of me."

"Oh, I see," Gus retorted with false sincerity. "So I can't do anything on my own, I have to have my slave tell me what to do?"

Shawn froze in surprise, barely breathing for several seconds before finally admitting, "I want to be mad, but that was a pretty good zinger."

"Thanks. I was proud of it." There was an opening now; Gus could push it and try to convince Shawn that they were the exact same and deserved to be treated as such. But it had to be Shawn to figure that out. It couldn't be yet another thing that he believed just because a master said so.

Gus looked over, seeing how Shawn's shoulders were slowly relaxing. He also saw how his hair was long enough to curl in the back and flop a bit on the top. At least Rowan's visit had been good for something. "You know, you're due for a haircut again. What do you think of trying the cosmetology students?"

Shawn smiled gratefully at the subject change before shooting him a knowing look. "You think they'll do it without service mode, don't you?"

"Maybe... It can't hurt to check. Want me to try them?"

"Sure." Shawn shrugged and relaxed further down on his knees. "You got much homework right now?"

Gus carefully sidestepped the question. Shawn still didn't know about the mandatory relaxation time in the middle of the day. "I always have homework. What were you thinking?"

"It's been a while since we played chess."

"I could go for that."

Shawn finally stood up, and Gus braced himself on the floor to follow him. A hand suddenly reached out and he froze in surprise. Since when did Shawn do that?

Apparently since now. Gus looked up to see the nervous look on Shawn's face. He moved deliberately, clasping the outstretched hand and letting Shawn pull him to his feet. "Thanks."

"You're welcome."

Shawn turned around quickly to dig out the chess board, and Gus smiled as he did his part and gathered up the snacks.

The person manning the phones at the cosmetology school said that the students could work on slaves, and there'd even been an available appointment the next day. An appointment with a beautiful girl.

Her dark skin perfectly accented her bright smile, and her hair cascaded down her shoulders in tight coils that turned purple at the end. Gus' mouth dried up as she asked something, her voice sounding like a low bell in the morning over a dew-touched field.

He had no clue what she'd just said.

"Uh… S-Sorry?" he managed to stutter out.

Her smile stayed firmly in place as she repeated slower, "Hi, I'm Candice. How can I help you?"

Oh no, he had to say 'Hi' back… but Shawn had told him to try something other than 'Hi'... What else was there besides 'Hi'? Gus cleared his throat and made his voice sound more manly. "Hello…" He could feel Shawn's eye roll at his back. The jerk. "My name's Gus."

"Hi, Gus," Candice answered in her beautiful voice. "What can I do you for? Need a buzz?"

Was it that obvious? Gus ran his hand over his stubble; he hadn't been able to cut it since before midterms; it was the longest it'd been in years. His voice betrayed him and stopped being manly as he answered, "Uh, I'm ok; I take care of it myself. I'm actually here for him." He stepped to the side so she could see Shawn behind him.

"A… slave?" Even her frown was pretty. "I'm no groomer."

That wasn't good… "They didn't tell you? I talked to a Lisa on the phone and she said you could cut his hair no problem."

"Course she did." Candice rolled her eyes as she muttered under her breath. "The lyin' bitch."

She was slightly less pretty now. But only slightly. "His hair's the same as anyone else's, and it's not a typical slave style…"

She clicked her tongue in annoyance before looking Shawn over. "I'm not a groomer. Only failin' stylists end up in those shops…"

"I'll pay the commercial rate," Gus bargained. It was at least three times more than she'd get normally. "And a good tip if you don't require service mode."

Candice hesitated, clearly softening to the idea. "We were told service mode keeps the slave safe as much as the groomer…"

"He won't fight you; it'll be just the same as working on a free person," Gus bargained.

"Ok," she hesitantly agreed. "But you gotta give me his remote while I'm workin' on him."

"What? No!"

Candice kept her hand out and explained calmly, "You seem alright, but I'm keepin' myself safe. I need insurance in case he doesn't act 'just like a free-person'."

What sucked was that she had a point; there was no way for her to know if he was lying or not. Gus glanced back and quietly asked, "Shawn?"

Shawn glanced in her direction before giving a small nod. "Yes, sir."

It wasn't like they wouldn't have to deal with a stylist having control over him anyway… Gus dug into his pocket and pulled out the remote. Before he handed it over, he warned, "If you use this without a hell of a good reason, you won't get a cent over your going rate."

Candice nodded solemnly as she took the remote. "Understood." As soon as she tucked the remote into her pocket, she smiled her gorgeous smile again. "Now, what can I do you for?"

"Shawn, do you want anything different?"

"No, sir," Shawn answered immediately, like he'd been expecting the question.

"Just a trim all the way around," Gus told Candice.

She looked Shawn over critically before asking, "James Dean?"

She was officially beautiful again. "Yeah, exactly."

"Alright. Follow me." She turned around and led them into a small room with a surprisingly cozy atmosphere. She nodded towards the barber chair in the center and ordered, "Sit there."

Shawn sat in the chair, seeming much less sure of himself as he put his hands on the arm rests. No clicks sounded out, and he swallowed nervously as he leaned back.

"You're ok; I'm right here," Gus reassured him as he sat on a small, squishy chair. It was squishier than he expected, and he flailed, nearly losing his balance as he sank towards the floor. Why did gravity hate him? He reached out and grabbed the first magazine he saw on the side-table to disguise the moment. It was ok, he could salvage it. He could still be cool.

"You ok there?" Candice asked in amusement as she gathered her tools.

Damnit. "Yeah, I'm cool." Because cool people said they were cool. "Uh, just lookin' at" –he glanced at the magazine in his hand– "Curly girl styles for the new century…"

His face heated up as she giggled, sounding like a clear brook on a hot summer's day. She took pity on him and nodded towards the table. "I think you might find that one more useful."

Gus looked down to see the next magazine in the pile, 'Black and Beautiful.' He gratefully swapped out magazines and hid his face behind the pages. Why did he have to be like this? He hadn't been stumbling over himself when he'd been defending Shawn…

"Let's get you taken care of," Candice told Shawn. The sounds of snipping scissors filled the hole that Gus' coolness had left when it fled. He glanced over the magazine, carefully watching as Candice trimmed around Shawn's ears. The last groomer had made Shawn bleed; he wasn't going to let that happen again.

Candice didn't look away from her work as she said, "My professional opinion? You'd be rockin' with some of those styles."

It took Gus a moment to realize she was talking to him, and he looked back down at the magazine, actually paying attention to the pages. He'd always had the same haircut, just like his father's. It had also come with the added benefit of both of them going to the barbers every month or so, which had become an enjoyable tradition over the years. But since he'd started college, he hadn't had time for luxuries like that. Shawn and his homework already took up more time than he had.

But he was a different person now; why shouldn't he look different too? He flipped through the pages, scanning the styles for the one that had always caught his eye. If he was going to do this, then he was going to make the most of it. He flipped the magazine around, showing Candice his pick. "Even this?"

She finished trimming the pieces of hair in her hand and walked over, studying the flat top style he'd picked out. "Yeah, I think that'd work perfect. Though, with your head shape…" she stood back and squinted at him. "You should probably grow the sides out a bit too; just enough to soften it up. Want me to pencil you in for a few weeks to start shapin' it?"

"We can't start now?" Gus asked, feeling a small pang of disappointment. Now that he was thinking about it, he really wanted a new look.

"You need a bit more to work with first," she said apologetically as she went back to Shawn. "But it'll give you time to get the right hair products; I'll make a list."

Shawn stayed as still as a statue as Candice finished up with him, and Gus paid the promised amount with a thirty percent tip. She'd earned every penny considering Shawn had even told her 'thank you' when he'd stood up. Gus left the building with a spring in his step, his imagination running wild as he thought about hair styles and who he wanted to be.

The excitement died down by the next day, only to be replaced by the familiar twinge of nervousness as the clock ticked down to when Shawn needed to be dropped off. Gus had gotten an email late on Sunday telling everyone that a new janitor would be taking over and that the schedule would be back to normal.

But it'd be fine; the old janitor had just been particularly bad. The new one would be better, and Shawn would be able to keep his head down, and Penny would be left alone…

Gus kept repeating those facts as a mantra to himself until he was able to pick Shawn up that afternoon. Rowan didn't show up, which suited him just fine, though he did feel a twinge of guilt for making Penny wait longer to be picked up. The janitor appeared around the corner first, and Gus studied him as the slaves filed in behind. He looked like a failed Santa in the off-season with his dirty beard and beer belly… At least Shawn didn't look any worse for wear, and Gus found his hope rising when he even met Gus' eyes when he stood up.

"Were you hurt today?" Gus asked as soon as he was able.

The answer crushed him. "He only used the collar a few times."

All masters were the same.