A/N: FFN is a butt and won't let me do longer lines in the in-story document. The "_" lines are supposed to be 'long enough' for actual information to be written in. Sorry folks, ya gotta use your imagination. *Glares at the website for its arbitrary formatting rules*

Gus let out a breath as they walked through the chief's door, subtly wiping his sweaty palms on his pants. Shawn's life literally hinged on this conversation. Hinged on him.

The door closed, and Chief Swanson barely acknowledged them as he filled out paperwork. Whether it was a power play or the man was actually that busy, Gus couldn't tell. But at least it gave him time to run through the script one last time.

They'd stayed up late planning what he'd say. Neither of them had slept well, but at least he was prepared.

He couldn't mess this up.

Gus wanted to feel excited and hopeful, but a sense of foreboding loomed over him as he waited. His father had always told him to never negotiate a deal that he wasn't willing to walk away from. It put all of the power in the client's hands. Gus felt Shawn's presence behind him and let out a quiet breath. Sometimes rules needed to be broken.

He could do this.

Swanson finally set his paperwork to the side and said, "Mr. Guster. I didn't think we called you in for a case."

So it had been a power move; Gus had called ahead of time to ask for this meeting. "No, sir, you didn't. I asked to meet with you in order to renegotiate our contract."

"Contract's already been signed, we ain't paying you more," Swanson said dryly.

"Of course not, the pay is more than reasonable. But I'd like to change how we're paid."

Swanson narrowed his eyes, scanning Gus like he'd just become a threat. "Remember that you're talking to the chief of police… How, exactly, would you rather be paid?"

Nerves tingled down Gus' back and he focused on keeping his voice even. "Shawn is the one doing the work, not me. He deserves to be the one who's compensated."

"Slave's ain't allowed to have bank accounts," Swanson said, relaxing back with an eye roll. "Much less pay for things…"

"I know." Gus glanced back, but Shawn stayed as still as a statue and didn't acknowledge the look. He deserved better. "Shawn was collared because it was determined that he'd be too much of a drain on society." Which was wrong, but Swanson didn't care about that. Gus set his jaw and looked the chief in the eye. "I want to give him a chance to pay that debt off. To earn back his freedom."

Swanson's eyebrows rose, and surprise froze him in place for several seconds before a scoff broke through. "Your slave's no movie star, kid. Our consultant contract is standard for everyone, and there's certainly no clause about freeing slaves. That shouldn't come as a surprise to you since you're the one who signed and agreed to it."

Gus wouldn't back down that easily. "If a movie company can make a contract like that, then I'm sure the precinct that has a slave retention department on its premise could figure something out."

"Just 'cause some hippies wanted a poster boy, doesn't mean everyone's gonna follow their example. You have your contract; take it or leave it."

"Fine. I'll leave it," Gus said cooly, bluffing his ass off. "It's not like this town is crime ridden and the cops need all of the help they can get…"

"Don't let the door hit your slave on the way out."

He couldn't seem too desperate, he couldn't seem too desperate… "You're obviously willing to do things that are unconventional. Otherwise you wouldn't have already agreed to Shawn helping with your cases. Why is working with a psychic slave acceptable, but not this?"

"That decision has already put me in hot water. Why would I add to that when your slave has already caused a bucket full o' trouble?"

"Trouble like keeping you from scaring an innocent woman into signing her life away?" Gus challenged. "Trouble like earning the trust of a suspect so he'd give you information on the real thief? Trouble like speaking in public? Exactly how much do you value the safety of this town versus keeping the status quo?"

Swanson sighed and muttered under his breath, "I swear, you musta come outta your mama arguing…"

A strange pride rushed through Gus, quieting his nerves.

"Your slave has some… natural abilities," Swanson reluctantly admitted. "But I still haven't seen anything that justifies giving you a unique contract. Now, if you'd like information on emancipation, I'd be happy to give the retention department a call…"

"You've seen his record; you know he wouldn't qualify." The chief was still talking to them. It had to be a good sign… But how could he prove that they were worth the cost?

As if summoned, Shawn spoke up. "The serial killer dyed his recent victim's hair red; he's making the victims look like specific people. If you figure out who they're supposed to look like, you'll figure out who he is."

Swanson looked at him for a second, his face not betraying any of his feelings. He brought his focus back to Gus as he said, "Our boys already figured that out. Now, if it can use its abilities to tell us who the killer is, then maybe we can talk."

Of course he'd have to ask for something Shawn couldn't do. "He has abilities, but he's not a magic eight ball."

"You're certainly trying to sell it like it is."

Shawn spoke up again, his face and voice still completely blank. "The lady being interrogated right now; she has information on her partner in crime. If you threaten her with telling her husband what she did, she'll probably crack."

Swanson didn't even look towards Shawn this time, instead informing Gus, "You're also doing a piss poor job at keeping it under control."

"He is under control," Gus shot back, barely keeping the angry edge out of his voice. "He's also giving you useful information… Unless you'd rather not give your detectives every possible advantage you can."

The chief's lips twitched up into a slight smirk as he gave Gus a calculating look. After a long moment of deliberation, he dialed his phone and relayed the information to the person on the other end.

Gus took the moment to check on Shawn, giving him a nod of approval even though he'd gone off-script. Swanson had needed the push. Shawn's eyes flicked up in acknowledgement even though his expression didn't change. It would have to be good enough.

"Let me know if it works," Swanson said, finishing his call and hanging up the phone. He grabbed another stack of paperwork and started filling it out, completely ignoring the fact that Gus and Shawn were still standing in his office. He commented off-handedly, as if talking to himself, "I dunno how long it'll take, you're welcome to head out. We'll be in contact soon."

Another lesson came to Gus as he sat in one of the chairs in front of the desk. Strike while the iron is hot; don't give it time to cool. "We don't have anything scheduled. We can wait."

Swanson lifted a shoulder in a subtle shrug as he continued to work. Gus did his best to relax and not seem nervous as the minutes stretched on. How long would they have to wait? Would this be enough? How was Shawn doing?

In one of life's bigger ironies, Shawn's collar had needed charged the night before. He'd seemed overwhelmed during their initial conversation, and Gus had hoped the hour of downtime would help him re-center himself. But afterwards he'd been much quieter than usual, even as he continued to help with the conversation. Gus hadn't been expecting confetti and glitter, but at least a little bit of excitement would have been nice...

There'd been a lot that had happened yesterday. It was probably just too many emotions to process all at once. It definitely wasn't a sign that Shawn was having second thoughts.

And the fact that Shawn had barely said anything this morning wasn't any different. It was fine, not something to worry about at all. If Gus wanted to worry about anything, then he could worry about how they were going to celebrate once everything was signed.

Gus snuck a look back, but Shawn hadn't moved a muscle since the last time.

It was fine; he was just proving he could 'be good' by Swanson's standards. It would be too distracting if he showed hope or acted too much like the person he deserved to live as.

But it was still so wrong.

The phone rang, and Swanson answered it without looking away from his papers. His pen stilled as he listened, his eyebrows raising. Gus met the look that was shot at him, and he smirked, exuding a confidence he almost felt. The interrogation had gone well.

"Yup, thanks for the update. Let me know what the partner says." Swanson hung up and sounded almost regretful as he said, "You're right that I saw its record. The reason it'd fail emancipation is the same reason I can't offer this deal."

Gus' stomach fell through the floor, and his heart nearly followed as he realized Shawn had heard the same thing. He kept his face neutral as his mind raced; the chief was just a client trying to put pressure on him. They weren't done yet. "Why can't you? Because he hasn't given up on trying to be free? If anything, that's even more reason to offer the deal." Gus leaned forward, letting the words flow as he thought them. "Even if we kept working for you as we are, you've seen his record. You know he'll eventually try to run again. And when he's caught, you'll lose him as a resource. But if you offer him what he obviously wants, not only do you give him a reason to want to work for you, but he might even decide to stay and keep helping after he's free."

Swanson leaned forward as well, making it look much more intimidating. "If it can't behave with a collar, how can you expect us to let it walk outa those doors without one? I have a city to protect."

"Protect from what?!" Gus snapped. "From him talking to someone? Or sitting in a chair? Or–"

"Or stabbing someone? Like its apparently already done twice?"

"If someone tried to strip your humanity from you, I bet you'd get stabby too."

Infuriatingly, Swanson snorted a laugh. "You're lucky I like you. If I had a few more recruits like you, then we might actually start to make a difference."

Gus' anger wavered, unbalanced by the pride the words made him feel. "Sir, we want to work with you. Both of us want to make our city safer. I'm not asking for a handout, I'm just asking you to give him the chance he deserves. I have never seen him be violent, he has never been a threat, he's–"

"You haven't even had it for a full year, and it already tried to run from you…"

Cold sweat broke out on Gus' palms at the memory. "A-And he paid the punishment. It's in the past." He couldn't think about it.

But he could use it.

The words felt right as they left Gus' mouth. "And it's proof that he doesn't need to be controlled to be safe. He had the chance and didn't hurt a single person. Not even the cops that brought him in." Swanson tapped his pen thoughtfully; it looked like he was actually considering it. Maybe he just needed one more push… "So far, he's had a 100% success rate. Surely that's worth taking a small risk."

Swanson thought for another minute before finally saying, "I can't overlook its record. I'd get raked over the coals for it. Rightfully so. But I'm willin' to give you a chance."

Gus barely dared to breathe as hope crowded in his chest. "A chance how?"

"You continue your current contract for six months, and if I decide your services are worth the headache, we talk then."

"And what's going to stop you from taking six months of work from us and then telling us to get lost?"

"I guess you just gotta trust my good word."

Well that was bullshit. "I want it in writing. As well as an exact list of what 'worth the headache' actually means. And I want those six months to still count towards Shawn earning his freedom."

Swanson leaned back in his chair, looking smug. "Fine. But if– when it acts up, you don't get that money back."

Their goal was in sight, even if their position was so precarious that Gus could feel the ground shifting under his feet. "If you're going to require him to act a certain way, then I want that in writing too. Nothing subjective. And him talking in public, or having a vision in public, can't be on it."

"I can work with that. One moment…" Swanson turned to his computer to type something up. After several minutes of silence he said, "I can tell there's gonna be another session of arguing before the details are finalized, so we'll make another meeting for that. I'm not big on legalese, but hopefully this'll tide you over…" The printer hummed and he handed Gus the newly typed page.

Gus barely dared to breathe as he scanned the words on the warm paper. Did they actually do it?

[The signees of this contract agree to the following terms:

1. Burton Guster, the owner of slave (collar number_) will henceforth agree to a trial period of six months of service as a consultant for the Santa Barbara Police Department. During this time, the contract shall stay the same as the one previously signed except for the amendment of term number 5 in this contract.

2. Chief William Swanson shall monitor Guster and his slave's conduct and utility during this time according to the code of conduct that will be finalized on date _.

3. If the service is adequate and the code of conduct is followed, then after the trial period, a full contract will be written up outlining the procedure for the emancipation of slave_ to be earned, valued at $50,000.]

"Fifty thousand?!" Gus exclaimed as he read the amount. "That's almost twice what I paid."

"And you could get twice that much if you sold it to the right people. A slave with psychic abilities is practically a blank check."

Swanson smirked in self-satisfaction, and Gus' jaw clenched as he lowered his eyes back to the page. They were stretched over a barrel as it was; they were lucky the chief didn't ask for more. But that was so many cases…

[4. Chief Swanson retains the right to end the trial period at any time if the code of conduct is not followed, and/or if the services of the consultants is deemed inadequate.

5. Any income made during the trial period shall be set aside to pay towards that emancipation. If the trial period is ended early, then the accrued income shall be forfeit and will be returned to the Santa Barbara Police Department.]

Gus read the whole contract, then re-read it, then re-re-read it. Even with the large price… It was almost exactly what they'd wanted. He wasn't so naive to think it was a fair deal, but it was closer than Shawn would ever get anywhere else. Gus turned in his chair and held out the page. "Shawn?"

It wasn't his life on the line.

Shawn hesitated before taking the contract and reading it quickly. His hand slightly shook as he handed it back with a blank look. "Yes, sir."

"Do you want to sign it?"

Swanson cut in. "Its scribbles ain't legally binding."

"I'll sign it too," Gus answered without looking away from Shawn. "Shawn, do you want to sign it?"

Shawn hesitated, and Gus desperately hoped he was keeping his feelings from showing. It had to be Shawn's choice, not his.

Shan didn't sound sure of himself when he answered, "Y-Yes… sir."

Gus failed to keep the smile off of his face as he beckoned for something to write with. Swanson rolled his eyes and muttered something about 'young'uns these days…' but still handed over a clipboard and pen.

He didn't matter; Shawn had actually said yes. He was letting himself act like a person instead of a slave.

Shawn read the contract one last time before signing quickly and handing it back. His signature was barely readable, and he'd only signed his first name. Gus beamed at it as he filled out the missing information, taking great pleasure in writing 'Shawn' on the second slave line instead of the collar number as expected. He signed his full name under Shawn's and handed it to Swanson.

He could barely think past the hope that was filling every pore of his existence as the chief added his own signature. There were plenty of ways the contract could go wrong… But they had a chance. He'd gotten Shawn a chance.

Gus barely noticed the rest of the conversation as they scheduled the next meeting and a copy of the contract was given to him. In no time at all, they were walking out of the precinct towards a bright future.

But when Gus looked back to share his joy with the person who had the most to celebrate, he was met with a completely blank faced slave. There wasn't anyone around them, and they'd done it…

Dark worry cast shade on his happiness and Gus led them to a nearby bus stop. They needed somewhere safe to talk.

They'd been walking in the forest for ten minutes and Shawn still hadn't said anything. Pressure built in Gus' mind as the silence stretched on, the need to fill it growing too loud. But he didn't want to rush a conversation if Shawn wasn't ready.

But they'd also started a hike without any water or supplies, and it was bothering him much more than it probably should. They weren't going to die of dehydration with only an hour's walk…

But Shawn didn't seem to be in any rush to start anything. At least he was looking around again and was walking next to Gus instead of following behind. But he still wasn't showing any emotions… After another minute of silence, Gus couldn't take it anymore.

"I know it's been a big few days… I'm here to listen if you want to talk about it."

Shawn tried to smile, the expression so brittle that a passing breeze could have snapped it in half. "We got the contract. I'm doing great."

"Uh-huh… You know I'm not that dumb." Gus let the conversation die out again. He'd opened the door; it wasn't his choice if Shawn walked through.

It was less than a minute before Shawn took that step. "Sorry."

"For what?"

"I'm not doing what I'm supposed to do…" Shawn shook his head in frustration. "Not like that. Like… You just gave up so much so I have a chance, and it's a chance I've wanted since everything and I should be happy. It should be the best day of my life… Or, at least, second best behind that time I managed to jump over a car with my bike…"

"Respect," Gus had to acknowledge before moving on to the actual problem. "I'm assuming you're still figuring out the why."

"Not really…" Shawn let the statement hang in the air as he scanned the woods, his eyebrows creased in worry. His hands didn't seem to know what to do as they manipulated something no one could see.

In a flash of inspiration, Gus bent down and grabbed a rock off of the side of the trail. It was small enough to fit in his palm, but large enough to let him run his thumb along its rough edge. He held it out with a quiet, "Here."

Shawn blinked in surprise at the gift, but his lips quirked up in a small smirk as he took it. "Thanks." The rock started dancing between his hands as he started to talk. "When I went to the foster home, I kept thinking every day that… someone would come. That I could go back. Then some men showed up outside the bedroom door and… I left the room with a collar."

Gus' heart squeezed as he imagined the scene. "I'm sorry. That shouldn't have happened."

Shawn shrugged, the rock moving faster between his hands. "Then in the warehouse where they train new slaves, I thought I could outsmart them. I knew stuff most people didn't, surely I could find a way out. Or at least a way of making them regret taking me. Then I was sold to my trainer."

Gus stayed quiet this time; there was clearly a reason Shawn was sharing these specific stories.

"Once he was done with me, I'd learned…" The rock stopped suddenly, clenched in a fist that dropped back to Shawn's side. His thumb still ran over the edge as he completed quietly, "Hope is dangerous."

Everything became clear, and Gus mentally berated himself for not realizing it sooner. He certainly hadn't had the types of experiences Shawn had, but even he'd learned that lesson at school. When the bullies looked like they'd found a new target before returning to him, or between grades when he'd thought he could come back with a fresh start. Even winning the spelling bee had been terrifying, because of the hope that could have been crushed if he'd missed a word. "It means there's something that can be taken away now."

Shawn let out a sigh of relief. "Yeah…"

Gus nodded as the folded contract in his pocket took on a new weight. "The chief made it really easy to be taken away."

"I don't want you to think I don't appreciate it," Shawn said quickly. "I never would have even had the chance without you. And I want it. More than anything…"

"But you can't trust it."

"Not yet, anyways."

As much as Gus appreciated Shawn's honesty, he still couldn't leave the conversation as it was. Regardless of everything else, they'd had a huge win today. And he wasn't going to let the world steal it from them. "Do you trust me?"

Shawn gave him an incredulous look. "Of course I do."

Gus' heart warmed at how Shawn hadn't even hesitated. "Then you can at least trust that I'll do everything in my power –and some things not in my power– to make sure they'll keep up their end of the deal. I'll be damned if I let them screw you over without one hell of a fight."

"It was the first thing I liked about you," Shawn said with a smile, his eyes distant. "When you were able to hold your own against the vendor."

Gus still couldn't wrap his head around the fact that Shawn could literally remember every part of being bought, but it made his heart glow even hotter that it was apparently a good memory. "You're never going to be sold again."

Shawn's eyes returned to the present as he pointed out, "Six months is a long time to be good."

Gus shrugged; he knew his friend. "Maybe. But you don't have to 'be good' for the full six months. Just the parts that they'll know about."

Shawn snorted in amusement. "I have been a terrible influence on you."

"Nah, you've been a great influence." The rule-breaker had always been inside him. Gus just would have never been brave enough to let him out without Shawn's help. "I'm not a boring little salesman anymore."

"No you're not," Shawn said proudly. He looked more relaxed as he tossed the rock in the air and caught it again. "We should do a movie night. Free Willy."

Gus grinned, relaxing along with him. "Nice. But we need to go to the store first; it's a national holiday. We can't do just popcorn."

Shawn's face creased in amused confusion as he tossed the rock again. "Valentine's Day was yesterday…"

"Yep, which makes today national half price candy day."

Shawn laughed, looking nothing like the blank faced slave that had entered the forest. "Of course, it would be wrong for us to not celebrate."

"Downright un-American."

Shawn was probably right; hope was dangerous. But it was also the reason they could keep going. They had a goal now; a promise that things could get better. Would get better.

Gus started listing all of the candy they'd buy as he walked side-by-side with his friend. And hope shone bright that someday they'd be able to walk down a busy sidewalk just as carefree as they were walking down an empty trail.