Shawn stared at the papers in his hands, still not quite able to wrap his mind around what they signified. He had a chance. An actual chance.

It didn't feel real. Even hours after the negotiations were done, it didn't seem possible. He flipped through the pages to find the most important line.

[The services shall continue until the agreed upon amount of $50,000 has been earned, at which point, if all other conditions are met, slave 60027070 shall be offered emancipation.]

He'd been bracing himself all week for his chance at freedom to be taken away. Things never went how they were supposed to. He knew better than to hope…

But now it was right there. In clear lettering. An actual chance. His mental defenses crumbled, and a faint light glinted at the end of the tunnel he'd thought was an unalterable black hole.

It was terrifying.

"Hey. It's ok if you're not, but I'm wondering if you're alright."

It was a good thing Gus hadn't used a question. Who knew what would come out of Shawn's mouth if he tried to talk. Anything from manic laughter to overwhelmed screams was on the table. Instead, Shawn nodded and flipped back to the first page.

It was real, right? He looked back in his memories as he scanned the words of the altered contract and the additional signature at the bottom.

"Y'know, my superiors were none too happy when I told them about our deal," Swanson said as he pushed a small stack of papers towards Gus. "But I reminded them it's why I'm here. This town needs something different than 'how it's always been done'. So, congratulations, the contract was approved."

Shawn felt the remembered chills down his spine. Their chance could have been snuffed out before they'd even said a word…

He still didn't know where the chief stood. Swanson agreeing to Gus' deal without the proper authorization could have been a real gamble… Or it could have just been a tactic to throw Gus off-balance. It was frustrating how hard he was to read.

People who couldn't be read weren't safe.

Shawn shook away the memory of spikes on his tongue and flipped to the next page. 'Code of Conduct' was written in bold on the top, and a long list spread below it. A familiar weight hovered over his shoulders; he had new rules.

He re-solidified each one in his mind, anchoring it to reality with his memory.

1. This agreement is an addition to any laws and regulations already in place. Any unlawful activity will be cause for an immediate dismissal of the consultant, rendering this contract null and void.

"Make sure you know what you're gettin' into, son. That ain't just the big laws. They catch you drinkin' at a party, speeding in a car, or even jaywalking, then you can kiss the contract goodbye."

It had seemed a simple rule until the chief's addition. All it would take was one small mistake to send everything tumbling to the ground…

2. No signs of aggression by the slave will be tolerated. Due to its history of violence, additional limits are required.

Gus skimmed the rest of the paragraph quickly before saying, "There's no definition of what counts as 'signs of aggression'."

"What's there to define? The law says it can't hit anyone; this makes sure it can't threaten to hit anyone."

"It's too subjective. He's been called 'aggressive' just because he was looking out of a damn window. With this wording, someone can get easily rid of him just by saying he wasn't acting small enough."

Gus had been impressive, refusing to back down until an actual list was added to the section of what wasn't tolerated. Though, seeing 'reaching for a weapon' right next to 'raising its voice' was uncomfortable in a way Shawn couldn't explain.

3. The slave shall dress appropriately and shall not be ordered to act in a disruptive manner, including but not limited to: acting like an animal, answering questions with interpretive dance, and/or dressing up and performing like a clown.

Swanson sighed at the look Gus leveled at him. "We gotta cover our asses… You wouldn't believe the things we've seen."

Shawn's lips couldn't help but tick up at the next one.

4. No yodeling.

"Yes, that requires its own rule. No, it's not negotiable. Don't ask."

The slave who'd caused that rule was officially a legend… Hopefully they'd survived the incident.

5. There will be no contact with any reporters.

Swanson's voice was as hard as steel as he said, "We get to decide when the press gets wind of you, not you. If a reporter so much as sneezes in your direction, you say 'no comment'. If they ask your slave, you order it to shut its trap. You won't win any arguments here."

"I wasn't going to," Gus answered. "Actually, I was hoping to argue in the other direction… Is there any way to not involve the press at all?"

Swanson snorted in dark amusement. "I can tell you haven't had to deal with those blood suckers if you think that's actually possible."

It wasn't until after the meeting that Shawn had finally understood why Gus had tried to argue at all.

"Mom and Dad are going to freak out if they see us on the news…"

Gus was risking so much for him… Shawn swallowed against the metal circling his throat; he owed too much to Gus already.

Gus sighed and shifted on his bed, as though he could feel the thoughts he wouldn't agree with. He turned another page of his book, keeping Shawn silent company.

Shawn looked back down at the list; Gus had had to give up even more…

6. The consultant shall not impede or harass any law enforcement personnel, including when the personnel is interacting with the slave.

Gus froze as he read the paragraph over again. His voice growled with barely contained anger once he comprehended the words. "I'm not going to let people treat him however they want."

"You'll be workin' a ton of cases; I'm not gonna be fielding complaints from my people every time you decide to get self-righteous on them. If you don't think someone's actin' right, then you tell them your slave ain't breaking its code of conduct or you take it to me."

"Maybe if people acted right, I wouldn't have to be self-righteous," Gus snapped back.

"That right there is exactly why this rule got added. You want the contract or not?"

Shawn hadn't known whether to feel amused or disturbed by Gus using his past master's logic against free-people. He still wasn't sure.

7. The slave shall not show disrespect to any law enforcement or other contracted civilians during a case.

"You're saying he could lose the contract if he doesn't say 'sir' enough?"

"I'm saying it can't go around talking back to anyone who looks at it sideways. It's bad enough when you do it, I'd have people handin' in their resignations if I let it do it…"

Gus took a moment to pull out his notes from his briefcase, his shoulders rising and falling with a controlled breath. He sounded more in control of himself when he said, "Fine. But so far you've only said what we aren't allowed to do. I want to add a list of things Shawn is allowed to do. Including talking without restriction."

Showing proper respect was one of the first things a slave learned how to do. But it was also one of the most stifling rules on the list. Everyone had a different interpretation of 'proper respect' and it could mean anything from speaking loud enough for a nearly deaf person to hear to the slave's very existence being disrespectful. At least Gus' list had helped cover some of the possibilities…

8. The slave will be allowed to speak, stand, and sit in the precinct. The consultant and slave shall be allowed to leave the precinct during a case and they shall not be separated against the consultant's will. With permission of the consultant's handler and any other affected law enforcement, the consultant and slave shall be allowed to watch interrogations or any other meetings pertaining to an active case.

Swanson read the list Gus offered and nodded. "I don't see why any of this would be a problem."

"Wait, really?"

Swanson chuckled with a knowing smirk. "I already told my superiors to take out the rule saying default collar rules had to be in place while it was in the precinct. It's called picking your battles. You should try it sometime."

"Battles like yodeling?"

Swanson's smirk fell and he shuddered as he reached for his phone. "Exactly. I'll get these added–"

"Wait, I'm not done."

"...You didn't hear a single word I just said, did you?" Swanson muttered as the phone stayed in its cradle.

Shawn had been as surprised as Gus that Swanson had gone to bat for them. And that he'd listened to Gus' suggestions without completely shooting him down. For not being trustworthy, he'd acted surprisingly decent.

It could be a trap, but it was one that gave them a good amount of wiggle room.

9. Due to the nature of the slave's ability, some disruption is to be expected during a 'vision'. If any breach of this code is reported during an episode, the consultant's handler and the chief of the precinct shall be the determining factors of whether discipline or a release of contract is warranted.

"What's to stop you from deciding he's being too 'disrespectful' when the spirits take over? He shouldn't be punished for that."

"Despite what you think, we're not actually out to get you…"

"Which is exactly what someone who was out to get us would say."

In a way, Shawn felt for the chief. The extra wiggle room Gus had argued for was good, but there'd been so much negotiating by this point. Even Gus had to have been getting tired of it.

10. There will be zero tolerance for misconduct during the probationary period of six months. After the probationary period, small infractions may be rectified through discipline rather than voiding the contract. After the probationary period, in order to assess the slave's ability to conduct itself without oversight, it shall be allowed movement without a leash while in the presence of the consultant's handler. Discipline shall be the responsibility of the consultant and/or the consultant's handler.

"Don't give me that look," Swanson warned as he finished writing up the rule. "I know 'bout the compromise you made with Lassiter; I ain't takin' away his ability to control your slave. Be grateful for what you got."

Shawn was grateful as he reached the end of his rules. There were plenty of ways he could mess things up, but there was a chance. They'd been given an actual, real, honest-to-god chance. The pages felt just a bit more real as he flipped through the legal phrasings to find the important line again.

[slave 60027070 shall be offered emancipation.]

It was real.

It could be taken away.

It was still real.

It was real, right?

Shawn flipped back to his new rules, his memories grounding him as he re-read the words for the seventh time.

It still felt like walking in a dream when they went to get 'celebration cupcakes' that night. Street lamps lit the quiet side street, the small pools of light keeping the lurking darkness at bay. Gus dug a second cupcake out of his bag for both of them before raising his in the air like a toast. "To freedom!"

Shawn smirked and 'clinked' their cupcakes together, taking odd delight at the messy way the frostings smooshed together. "To the chance at freedom."

"I said what I said."

Shawn didn't bother to answer as he savored his small slice of heaven. He was never going to take good food for granted. The all-encompassing rich taste of chocolate and icing cut through the dream-like haze. It was real.

Gus' voice pulled Shawn's attention back to the larger world and all of the big, impossible things that existed in it. "You've been really quiet. I know it's probably overwhelming, but it might help to talk about it."

It really wasn't fair to Gus; he'd done so much work. Shawn should be grateful. He was grateful. But everything was still so much… "I'm sorry I'm not happy enough."

"That's not what I meant," Gus sighed, sounding frustrated. It was Shawn's fault. "I get that you've been forced to act or feel how people around you waned, but you don't have to do that anymore. Whatever you feel is fine."

He said it like it was so simple. And it should be simple. Shawn had wanted to be free for so long; it should be easy to be happy that he had a chance now. But…

Shawn folded his cupcake wrapper into a small ball as he admitted, "I never thought it'd be possible. Even when I tried to be free, part of me knew it wasn't actually a real chance."

"If you knew it wasn't real, then why did you try?"

Shawn winced; why had he decided to open up this conversation? Gus seemed legitimately interested in the answer, but Shawn's attempt to run loomed overhead, waiting to sink its claws in with pain and regret. Gus shouldn't have to worry about that tonight of all nights…

But Shawn had already opened his mouth and stuck his foot in it; Gus deserved an answer. "Because I still had to try. Even when I was a kid, if someone told me I couldn't do something, I had to find a way to do it." It was safer to stop there, but Gus needed to understand. "I had a master who liked punishing me. When I was caught running from him… It was bad. Really bad." Shawn ran his thumb over a sharp corner of the folded wrapper as he counted the street lights. He wasn't there. "I couldn't do that again. I wouldn't survive. My body might, but I…" He shook his head; even if he could come up with the right words, he couldn't say it. It would make the possibility too real. "I couldn't think about freedom after that. Didn't let myself think about it. I just had to get through one more day, one more beating, one more step… I wouldn't survive if I thought further. It wasn't until after you that I could."

"No good deed goes unpunished," Gus muttered.

Pain slammed into Shawn's heart, and he flinched at the punishment. He'd been bad.

"Damnit, sorry," his master said quickly. "Sorry, sorry, that was wrong, I don't know why I said that. This isn't about me, and thank you for explaining, and it's good that you aren't having to think like that anymore."

But Gus was right. His kindness was why Shawn had been able to think about running again… "I'm sorry."

Gus let out a frustrated groan, clearly wishing he had a rewind button. "I'm sorry. That's not what we should be talking about right now. That day's been on my mind a lot, but tonight should be about you."

Shawn didn't want it to be about him. It was easier when he was figuring out what Gus needed. "Because we've been in the precinct a bunch?"

"Partially…" Gus sighed as he stopped at a trash can and tossed the empty bag in. He stared at the collection of things that society deemed worthless as he continued, "And because I realized you wouldn't even have this chance if you hadn't run. And I don't know how to feel about that."

The chain of events ran through Shawn's head. He'd run, which had gotten him arrested, which was when he'd seen the arsonist, which Gus had told Lassiter about before punishing him, which had made Lassiter come to them later for help with the lawyer, which had given Gus the idea for the contract…

"Huh." He hadn't ever actually put them all together before.

Yeah…" Gus still wasn't looking at him. "I do understand, or at least partially understand, why you did it. And I was working on being fine with it. I meant it when I said I forgave you. But I'm not really ready to be glad that it happened..."

"Yeah." What was he supposed to feel about it? Guilt still churned in Shawn's gut when he thought about how his choice had hurt Gus, and he was still overwhelmed at the fact that Gus was still fighting for his freedom even despite that. And he was still afraid of how far Gus would go for him.

And he was still hopeful that this time the chance might be real.

Gus set his jaw and pivoted around, walking in a new direction with purpose. "Tonight's about celebration. You don't have to pretend to be happy or anything, but it's still cause for celebration. You managed to impress the chief of police so much that he was willing to draw up a new contract for you."

"You managed to argue with him so much that the contract is actually possible to keep," Shawn added. A jolt of adrenaline shot through him. It was actually possible.

"Because we're just that awesome."

Gus' walk gained a swagger, and Shawn felt a smile stretch across his face. With Gus on his side, the small chance could actually become a reality. It wasn't a strange feeling that he felt when they reached the book store and Gus told him to pick out a good set of drawing pencils. It tingled uncertainly under his skin, like sunlight trying to filter through a grimy window. The light grew brighter when Gus told the cashier that they were celebrating a special occasion as he paid.

It definitely wasn't a bad feeling.

It only took three days for them to be called into the precinct. The almost-familiar excitement of a case clashed with the new uncertainty for the future as Shawn followed Gus up the steps. He was going to start earning his freedom. He'd be around people who could take that chance away….

Shawn let out a breath as they entered the doors and recited his new rules in his head. Don't break laws, don't draw attention to himself, don't talk back… They honestly weren't all that different from his usual rules. He could do this.

As long as he didn't yodel.

Gus signed in for a visitor badge and walked towards Lassiter's desk with the confidence of someone who knew exactly why he was there. It settled some of Shawn's worries as he followed. This was a win for Gus too; proof that he could make a difference and make the future brighter.

Shawn's stomach flipped; his future could be brighter. For a timeless moment, a lightness surged through his body, pushing him to sprint fast enough to fly.

Shawn wrestled the feeling back into submission as glares burned into his back. He couldn't blow it on their very first case with the contract.

But the feeling had been there. Shawn's heart pounded at the possibility.

"Guster," Lassiter greeted, sounding like a perpetual cloud on a rainy day. "I hear congratulations are in order. You, yet again, found a way to bend the rules to your advantage."

"Aren't you the one who bent the rules when you brought me and Shawn in on the lawyer case?" Gus asked innocently.

"That wasn't bending the rules. That was using a tool at my disposal to see that justice was done."

"Right. And I negotiated, which was a tool at my disposal, to give Shawn a chance at freedom. It's the same thing."

"It is not." Lassiter turned around, ending the conversation as he grabbed a case file. A small stack of papers caught Shawn's eye at the corner of the desk: a copy of his contract. Did every member of the law enforcemnt have one, or was it just their 'handler'?

Gus, apparently, wasn't ready to let the conversation end. "Do you have something against slaves being freed?"

"No, I have something against naive idiots pushing for something they know nothing about."

"I know exactly what I'm pushing for!"

"Gus," Shawn cut in, just a second too late.

Lassiter smirked and crossed his arms. "Careful, you should listen to your slave. That sounded quite a bit like 'harassing a law enforcement officer'."

Gus snapped his mouth closed, his hands clenching as he kept himself quiet.

This was going to be a problem… Gus looked like he was about to explode, and they didn't even have the case in their hands yet. Shawn looked Lassiter over and added up everything he knew about him. He believed in rules and justice, but he was willing to bend the rules if it let him do his job better. Lassiter's silent gloating proved that he enjoyed the power that the contract gave him. But would he actually use it like that?

"You already agreed to work with us," Shawn said. If one of them was going to break the rules before they even got started, then at least it should be him. "You didn't expect Gus to not argue with you then. It doesn't seem too useful to have a consultant who can't say anything to his handler…"

Lassiter's smirk fell. "I'm not the one who agreed to new terms."

"But you're the one who'll benefit from it." It was risky, but it was the right play. Shawn put his hand to his temple as he set the scene. "I can see it now: A flawless arrest record, the chief's unconditional respect, a shimmer of a new badge…" He met Lassiter's eyes. "The chief already knows you're the right man for the job. With the spirits' help, you can prove it."

Gus added gasoline to the fire. "It's better than finding the first possible chance to break the contract, losing the station a valuable consultant and the chief's respect all in one go."

Lassiter rolled his eyes, trying –and failing– to seem above the whole argument. "One of you will find a way to break the contract all on your own; you don't need me for that. Although if I did, I'd just be doing you a favor…"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Gus asked, his eyes narrowed for a fight now that he knew it wouldn't cost Shawn his future.

"I've seen exactly four slaves be freed since I joined the force. Want to know what happened to them?"

"I'm sure you're going to tell me…"

Lassiter met Gus' glare and stated bluntly, "One was arrested, one committed suicide, and one was never heard from again. Only one managed to keep her nose out of trouble, and she's barely scraping by as a dishwasher who's paid in cash every week. Are you sure you want to play those odds?"

Gus' anger had morphed into faint horror as he asked, "What was the arrest for?"

"Stealing food, then vagrancy, then trying to kill an old master. Guess he figured he couldn't get a job, so may as well get some vengeance. He was back in chains less than two years after he was freed."

"That's not…"

"But of course, everything's going to go perfect for you two." Lassiter held out the case file, his voice shifting to a professional clip. "A man thinks he's a leprechaun and his ex-girlfriend stole his pot of gold."

"I…Huh... what?" a stunned Gus managed to get out as he took the file.

Lassiter shot a sharp grin at him. "Have fun."

Rain dripped down the dorm window, creating small paths and rivers that ran together before diverging again. Shawn watched the constant movement as he basked in the satisfaction of a case well solved.

Gus sighed from his desk where a stack of workbooks and papers had grown. "Man, I can't believe I have to do homework after that whole thing yesterday…"

"You could always tell your teacher you were challenging a leprechaun to a dance off," Shawn said as a handful of students ran down the sidewalk, acting like they'd forgotten water could fall from the sky. "It would be a nice change from all of the dogs eating homework."

"I can't believe he thought tap and riverdance were the same thing," Gus grumbled back. "A real leprechaun would know better!"

"And clearly that's the reason he was arrested. Not the stalking or breaking and entering or theft…"

"Sure, those things are all bad… But riverdance!"

Shawn grinned at Gus' priorities, his eyes never leaving the shimmering view of the rain covered campus. "Only our fourth case and you've already found your nemesis."

"When I get a nemesis, he's going to be way cooler than that guy."

"It's too late, you already called it. Remember Tap Man and Riverdance Man?"

"...No?"

That finally got Shawn to look away from the window. "Wait, really?"

"What?" Gus asked defensively. "We've had a lot happen. I can't be expected to remember every conversation we've had."

It had to be so weird to not remember everything… "First day of the 8 AM chem lab, we gave you a whole superhero backstory and everything...?"

"I remember breaking the beaker, but not that. Sorry."

"Huh." Shawn looked back out the window. "Maybe rain could be Riverdance Man's weakness… He'd never pull off Singing in the Rain."

"Right. Because it never rains in Ireland…" Gus rolled his chair over to the window, clearly giving up on his homework. "See anything interesting?"

"Just a few couples learning that sharing an umbrella isn't actually that romantic."

Shawn had never really understood umbrellas. They were annoying to carry, they were easy to lose, and they always flipped inside out when he used them to jump off of things. The only good thing they did was save good hair days. But splashing in puddles and running down rain-slicked streets were much more important than dry hair.

He missed splashing in puddles. The memories were good, but they didn't hold up to the real thing. At least he was allowed to sit and watch the rain. It made everything look different, with new reflections and halos of water and a constant buzz of motion. He hadn't been able to enjoy it for years.

"Good memories or bad?" Gus unexpectedly asked.

Had he really been zoned out long enough to be noticeable? "Sorry. Not bad."

"That's good." Gus thoughtfully looked out the window before asking, "Want to go out there?"

The question caught Shawn off-guard and he eloquently answered, "Huh?"

"Sorry, that was probably dumb. I know you've said you were inside a lot and…" Gus winced. "And that water's bad. I shouldn't have said anything…"

Water did have bad memories… but rain had good ones. Another person ran down the sidewalk, their foot landing in a puddle and sending a splash of water up their leg. People were allowed to experience the world, not just observe it.

"Yes," Shawn said definitively.

"Yes… to outside?"

"Yup!" Shawn bounced to his feet, the tingling under his skin matching the pattering of the rain against the glass.

"Uh, ok." Gus followed more slowly, apparently still recalibrating from the freakout he'd been expecting. "I think the umbrella's in the closet."

"Umbrellas are overrated." It was reckless –it'd be safer to keep his face dry– but then he'd still just be observing. "Gene Kelly didn't need an umbrella."

"Technically, he did have one…"

The umbrella stayed in the closet, and Shawn didn't regret the decision for a moment as they stepped out of the building.

A small overhang protected them as they adjusted to the cooler temperature. The rain pattered around them, individual plinks and splatters rolling into each other in a constant rush of sound. Shawn took a deep breath, relishing the way the very air felt cleaner with the smell of rain. It was all so vivid. So real.

He reached his hand out, the cold droplets a shock as they hit his palm. He grinned, ducked his head, and stepped into the world.

The rain peppered his shoulders and back of his neck, each spot a miniature anchor to the moment. Water streaked down his arms, soaked into his shoes, and dripped past his hair to his scalp. His shirt grew heavy, the smell grew stronger, and the pattering sound gained a new layer of high pitched plinks as the raindrops hit his collar. Shawn took it all in, his mind quieter than it had been in weeks as the sidewalk danced with ripples and reflections.

"You ok?"

It was impossible to explain, so Shawn didn't even try. "Yeah."

He wasn't any different, everything could still be taken away. But he was here. Shawn braced himself and turned his face to the sky.

The water caressed his face, cold points of contact that dripped down his forehead, his cheeks, his chin. Dark memories stirred at the feeling, but they were muffled by the constant sensations against his skin. He took a deep breath, just to prove that he could, and a smile stretched across his face.

He hadn't felt the rain since he'd been free. And he was feeling it now. And he'd be able to feel it again in the future. Someday he wouldn't have to wait for it to be offered; he'd be able to choose it on his own. He'd be able to race Gus down the wet sidewalk and not worry about a leash. He'd be able to jump into a fountain and dance while the Remembrants sang in the background…

The reminder had Shawn glancing over to check on his friend. Gus met his look with a fond smile, his hair glistening with water droplets. It was real. The contract was real. The future was real. Gus' expression changed, and for once he didn't look any older than eighteen as he threw his own head back and stuck his tongue out.

Shawn laughed at the sight, pure joy lighting him up from the inside out. A shimmering circle at the edge of the sidewalk caught his eye, and Shawn listened to its call. His foot rushed down, and the pool of water erupted into mini geysers, soaking his pants and the surrounding ground.

Shawn grinned and splashed in the puddle again.

A/N: Ok, y'all have homework this week. Author-fact: I have no sense of smell. Born without. I knew I wanted the rain to be as immersive as possible, so I tried googling the smell of rain. Then I stared at the description. Then I discorded a friend to double check Google…

I always thought the smell of rain would be like how it makes the air feel. Clean and refreshing… And then I find out it's basically the smell of dirt?! I was betrayed.

And that's why the smell of rain was never described. Because I just couldn't. So… How would you describe the smell of rain in a story?