041 Teamwork - 100 Days

[musicalluna]

Title: 041 Teamwork - 100 Days
Fandom: Psych
Author: MusicalLuna
Rating: eT
Characters/Pairings: Shawn, Gus, Juliet, Lassiter
Genre: Humor
Warnings: None
Complete: Yes
Summary: Only the best will survive.
A/N: *snickers*
Disclaimer: I don't own Psych or the characters. Yet. My lawyer and I are working on that... (J/K! Don't sue me!)

 

“All right, Gus, this could mean life or death,” Shawn said gravely. A bead of sweat trickling down his temple caught the dim light, glistening faintly.

“I think I know what the stakes are, Shawn,” Gus hissed back and swallowed, rubbing the back of his hand over his mouth. The room was lit by a solitary bluish source, casting eerie shadows over his and Shawn’s faces, the low murmur of voices drifting in from the next room over. He would never know how Shawn talked him into doing these things.

“One of us goes down here,” Shawn continued, gaze intense. His eyes glistened eerily in the dark.

Gus elbowed him, the muscle in his jaw twitching as he shot a fleeting look toward the doorway. “Shut up! That’s so not even funny!”

“It’s not supposed to be funny, Gus. Our lives as we know them could be over here and now. One false move and we might—”

“Shawn,” Gus said tersely, “Enough. Let’s do this.”

“That’s the spirit. There’s my brave Burton Guster. We’ll kick ass, or die trying.”

“That’s it. Do or die,” Gus said and the pair shared a serious look, bumping fists.

Both barely managed not to jerk noticeably when a voice cut in saying peevishly, “Are the two of you done with your little powwow yet?”

Shawn’s back stiffened slightly, his eyes narrowing and he said quietly, “Bring it on.”

“Thank God,” Lassiter said, and Shawn caught his blue eyes rolling, even in the dim light cast from the television on the office wall. He turned back in the doorway and called, “O’Hara, the Little Boy Duo is finally ready to play again.”

“Finally. You guys are such sore losers, you know that?” Juliet said, emerging from the next room over.

“We are not,” Gus retorted indignantly.

Lassiter snorted as he sank into one of the armchairs pulled to face the television. “Please. O’Hara and I have already beaten your sorry asses three times and you insisted on playing best out of seven.”

Juliet smirked smugly and said, “Yeah, guys. Just face it. You just can’t measure up to our skills.”

“Oh, we measure up,” Shawn said. “Not only do we measure up, but we’re going to kick your butts, even with a handicap of three prior losses.”

“Yeah. Kick. Your. Butts,” Gus said haughtily.

“I’d like to see you try,” Juliet said and dropped onto the couch beside Shawn.

“There is no try,” Shawn said gravely. “Only do.”

Lassiter rolled his eyes from aside. “Do you mouths mind? Can we just get on with playing the game already?”

“I call Peach!” Juliet exclaimed.

“Aw, no way, Jules!” Shawn protested, “You’ve been Peach every single time! You can’t hog the best character!”

Juliet rolled her eyes. “They’re all the same Shawn. They all have the same abilities and the same items.”

“They are not the same and you know it,” Gus replied.

“Either of you touches Bowser and I’ll shoot out your kneecaps.”

“Dude, Lassie, I think we get it. You’ve said that every single time we start a new game. You have a crush on Bowser, we know.”

“Shut up, Spencer. It’s better than your weird little fetish obsession with Princess Peach,” Lassiter shot back.

“It’s not a fetish Lassie. She’s been proven to kick ass in this game. It’s purely a business attraction.”

“Uh huh. Sure. Whatever.”

“All right guys! Here we go,” Juliet said. “Don’t give me any bull about how you ‘weren’t aware that the race was beginning’.”

“That was one time!” Gus cried. “One time!”

“Prepare to have your asses handed to you,” Shawn said, eyes fixed on the screen as the count down wound down.

“Yeah, prepare to be owned,” Gus agreed.

“You’re going down, Spencer, Guster,” Lassiter said confidently.

The little checkered flag on screen went down and with a cry the four racers were off.