Honey, I'm home (for bigkitty75)

[head_psychic]

(OOC: This is the pickup to a longer storyline we are looking forward to like hell. I can't even squeal in caps because I am too stunned by excitement. Oh. My. God. Nobody can probably imagine how much we are looking forward to this. Which, in fact, might play on for a while.)


It is the rule of every book. Of every movie, of every video game, of every TV series, be they good or bad. But it is the rule. The rule that the Ordinary Days, so ordinary the have to start with capital letters, are always turning out to be most eventful ones.

So, knowing a lot of movies, video games, TV series and even a bunch of books, the rule of Ordinary Days is very well known to Shawn Spencer. Therefore he could, or should have known that something was going to happen.

Instead, he is hanging around the psych office, waiting for Gus who is still at work but promised to grab something to eat on the way here. He sits on the couch, flicks through a bad program, is blinded by the horrendous sight of something bare-chested that definitely wasn't human anymore and decides that talk shows aren't really the best way to kill boredom.

When it knocks at the doorframe he is actually relieved. Maybe they're getting a case after all?



"Mr. Shawn Spencer?"

Shawn blinks, irritated, because the guy makes some weird effort to underline how both parts of his name start with the same letter. Which doesn't work out because SH and SP are still phonetic universes apart. He wears a suit, an expensive one but that doesn't make it prettier. Also, a black tie and black sunglasses. He can't be older than twenty-four which makes him look like some weird Matrix whacko who still thinks it's cool to dress up like Keanu Reaves when it's almost 85 degrees outside.

Shawn gapes. "Good God, who died?"

The guy looks at him accusingly. Well, Shawn actually can't see much of his eyes but he can sense how he is slapped into the face with the wet 'I don't even know how to spell humor' towel. "Jones, IRS. May I come in?"

IRS? Whoa.

Shawn blinks, shrugs, steps aside. He doesn't feel too good doing it but when the Republican's version of Neo comes knocking to your door you always remember how you should have reacted afterwards. "Right. What can I do for you?"

"You've been flagged for a tax audit."

Well, at least he's straight to the point. Shawn gapes. He gets the feeling that he might look a little stupid but he's still too fascinated by the clothes. He tries to spot pit stains.

Jones doesn't notice or doesn't care for he simply carries on. "We're going to review all your financial circumstances for the past ten years. Specifically those directly involved with one Mr. Burton Guster whom you failed to claim as your spouse for the last ten years."

Shawn gapes. Only this time it is not because of the clothes. "Whom I failed to what?"

"Well yes we understand that under Californian laws same sex marriage is an illegal act, however due to the circumstances and the failure to file jointley we've decided to place you and Mr. Guster under review."

"What?" Shawn can't think of anything else to say. "Dude, is this Punk'd? Where's Kutcher?"

The silent towel hits him again. "Basically what's gonna happen is if we find you to be misconstruing your situation..."

"Our situation."

"Your marriage."

"Our marriage." Shawn snorts because this is so damn funny, actually, this is the funniest thing someone has ever said to him.

"Your marriage. If we find you misconstruing your marriage, you are liable for a full tax review for the past ten years. All your financial access will be shut down until we can determine the proper amount you will owe."

"And that proper amount would be?" he asks, grinning.

"Two million dollars and sixty-seven cent."

Well. Maybe not the funniest thing ever. Shawn's eyes buldge over. "Two million!" he gasps in a voice that's probably three octaves higher than it should be.

Jones' eyebrow creeps up in a very freaky way. "Well, Mr. Spencer, this might seem like a big deal but since I am absolutely certain that your engagement with Mr. Guster in the..." He pulls out a piece of paper and takes a bored look at it. "... Swinging Sweethearts Chapel in Vegas, which is where you were residing at the time being, is completely straight up - no pun intended - there shouldn't be any problems."

Shawn gapes. Ten years ago? Vegas? All he remembers is Gus visiting. Them getting into this big fight about Vegas being dangerous. Then, there was going out to get some making-up-alcohol. Lots of making-up-alcohol. And then there was waking up the next morning.

Two million dollars and sixty-seven cent.

Wait a second.

I'm married to Gus?!

Comments

[bigkitty75.livejournal.com]

Slamming the car door shut, Gus grumbles as he makes his way back to the Psych office, arms full with bags of taco takeout. "I can't believe he made me run all the way across town..."

Their usual taco place being closed do to a freak attack involving a gang of street Holiday Santas. Shawn just couldn't focus on the case without having tacos. The snack of the Gods, Gus! Well aside from Pineapple

"Shawn! I got your order in double! So when you've eaten it all, you can't send me back out tonight, for the third time!"

Gus stops yelling when he sees they have company. A new client? Now? Funny, he's pretty sure they hadn't had anything schedualed today. Gus goes quickly into his 'best salesman' mode. Smiling and nodding to the man. "Hello? Was there something we could help you with?"

[head-psychic.livejournal.com]

By the time Gus enters their office Shawn's mind has already been racing. So when the voice of his best friend (whom you failed to claim as your spouse for the last ten years) cuts in he knows he has to act.

Fast.

Because by now he has it figured out. If Mr. Neo-Schmo finds out they are not even knowing they've actually been married ten years ago (married, married, what the hell happened in Vegas?!) they are so screwed, because seriously, Shawn doubts that they have made enough money during the last months to pay this guy two million dollars. He could have the sixty-seven cent but Shawn doubts Mr. So-not-Indiana Jones would take the offer.

"Gus!" Shawn beams, his mind still going by the speed of light. Two million dollars and sixty-seven cent. "Honey! You're home! Let me get this for you, you must be so tired!" He hurries past Jones and takes the tacos out of his hands while he beams at the IRS guy. "He works so much. He is busy as a bee. Aren't you?"

Shawn wraps his arms around Gus' waist so his mouth is close to his ear. "IRS," he hisses. "Big trouble. Play along."

[bigkitty75.livejournal.com]

The words what have you done this time, Shawn? are in his mouth, he can even taste their familiar ring. But recognising the serious panic in Shawn's face he decides to do as he's asked.

Besides, IRS, that scares the hell out of him.

"What's going on?" Gus tries for a neutral approach to the situation. The less he says, the less he can get into trouble for.

Shawn is still standing with an arm around his waist though, so this is probably a big deal, Gus puts one arm across Shawn's shoulder with the hope that this is the right move.

On the other hand, this could just be one of Shawn's pranks, if so, he's going to kill Shawn later.

[head-psychic.livejournal.com]

Hearing it a second time doesn't make it better. In fact Shawn is so freaked out he would love to remark how Jones uses the same words exactly when he tells Gus about their situation - just for the sake of interrupting him. Jones even makes the same short pauses at the same stupid times, pulls the same, freaky Neo-faces and Shawn is convinced they are confronted by a robot and this is just a tape replaying.

"... Swinging Sweethearts Chapel in Vegas, which is where you were residing at the time being, is completely straight up - no pun intended - there shouldn't be any problems."

Jones seems to like Gus better, maybe because of his business suit or the different way of talking so this time he ends his speech by handing him the piece of paper he has read from so far.

Shawn takes a look at it and squeals, because it's there, black on white, it's their handwriting, it's their freaking marriage certificate. He's going to faint. Or scream. Or both, in that exact order.

But then Jones looks up and frowns at him suspiciously and Shawn giggles (very hysterically), snuggling up to Gus. "Isn't that awesome, I had totally forgotten what it looked like!" To make it look more real Shawn makes the same high pitched noise again and the IRS bastard looks satisfied for now.

[bigkitty75.livejournal.com]

Gus thanks the man for the explination and promises that they'll have their accountants get in contact with the IRS just as soon as possible to straighten this situation out.

He seems to accept this as the matter of course and cooly, if politely excuses himself out the door.

Gus waits until he hears the sound of a car pulling aways before he turns on Shawn. "Shawn, what? What is this?!"

[head-psychic.livejournal.com]

"I don't know! I don't know!!" Shawn yells in a panic, running up and down and flailing wildly. He plucks the document's copy out of Gus' hands and waves it into his face. "Is this your handwriting? Tell me this isn't your handwriting!"

But of course it is Gus' handwriting. Shawn has faked it often enough to know that.

"Two million dollars! We're so screwed!" He glances over at the paper a third time. "Well, and married. Why the hell are we married!? And if we are, where the hell are our rings?" He presents his plain fingers, wriggling them expectantly. "I'd never marry you without a ring! ... Not that I would have married you with a ring! But apparently I have! Two million dollars?!"

[bigkitty75.livejournal.com]

Gus bites his lip.

Ouch. Okay, so that's not a good idea. He starts pacing back and forth across the office, he doesn't even want to look that those papers. It's crazy, this is just plain crazy!

The phrase Two Million Dollars is causing him a surge of panic, how can that possibly be right?! Even if... Gus swallows the bitter pill and puts aside his disbelief for the moment. Even if they have been married for the past TEN years, there's no way they should owe that much. Gus knows for damn sure his taxes are spot on, every year, well execpt for the appearent lack of claiming a spouce.

But given the irratic nature of Shawn's finances, Gus can't imagine he ever earned enough to justify that kind of money. Unless...

"Shawn. How much, exactly did you make during your modeling career?" Gus eyes him suspicously.

[head-psychic.livejournal.com]

"What? What? How would I know?" Shawn is still pacing, still too shocked to understand what Gus wants.

He breathes in and out, tries to focus, thinks of the word married and simply freaks. "This is insane! $18,000, I think. Why?"

[bigkitty75.livejournal.com]

Gus frowns. "That really doesn't add up. The figures I mean. I'm going to call my accountant and see what he advises." Gus pulls out his cell and punches in the numbers.

"Hi, this is Burton Guster... Why yes that's what I'm calling you about... You have? That's good, that's great, thank you... No, no, I'll get you his infomation." Gus holds the phone down from his mouth so he can yell to Shawn. "Hey, who's your accountant? He wants to collaberate and needs your past information."

[head-psychic.livejournal.com]

Shawn sits down on his desk and dangles his feet.

Ten years ago. Vegas.

Drinking.

More drinking.

"I don't have one," he absently mumbles while he tries to concentrate. No, nothing. He can't remember what happened. God, how drunk have we been? And why don't they have rings or a certificate?

Ten years. He has been married for ten years! His mind can't grasp it, can't deal with that information, can't embrace what that means yet.

[bigkitty75.livejournal.com]

"I'm going to have to call you back." Gus hangs up and frowns, Shawn doesn't have an accountant, that's going to complicate things.

Gus puts his phone away and tries not to look at Shawn. He knows he's been deliberatly avoiding the whole other issue here. The money just seems easier to deal with, even though it's a terrifying amount to be playing federal games with.

But they won't be able to get past this until they both deal with it. "Shawn, look..." Gus approaches the desk and leans against the side. "We're not married, there's no possible way. I mean, okay yes, this certificate is offical, and yes, we probably did have a cerimony."

Gus takes a breath and says quickly. "I honestly don't remember anything execpt the fight that night, but... this only changes the way the IRS sees us, not everyone else."

Of course, if the IRS happens to decide they aren't a couple, well, Gus has heard federal prison is a least a thousand times better than state.

[head-psychic.livejournal.com]

"Gus, didn't you listen to wannabe Neo? We are freaking married!" He picks up the copy and waves it around. "I don't remember either but you know what? They don't give a damn. Jones doesn't give a damn, Gus."

He jumps up again, agitated, nervous. "I mean, a certificate of a Vegas wedding? Come on. He probably waits for us to say 'Dude, sorry, but we were so freaking drunk we don't remember a damn thing'. Don't you see, Gus? It's exactly what that greedy little bastard is waiting for! Because then he will smile at us some creepy little smile and say 'Well, rules are rules and regulations are regulations and you are so going down'."

Shawn runs his hands through his hair in despair to keep himself from flailing. "Two million dollars, Gus. That's what he's waiting for."

[bigkitty75.livejournal.com]

"Alright! I know! They'll jump right on us when we go to get this nullified, or whatever, but there's got to be a way we can argue against that kind of debt. We don't know all the facts yet, Shawn. There's got to be a way out of this."

Gus closes his eyes against an oncoming headache. What else can they do? They can't pay that much money, even though Gus has a rather substancial savings, it's never going to be anywhere near that amount.

He can't bail them out of this one.

Gus has never thought they'd find themselves in trouble that either Shawn couldn't talk their way out of, or he couldn't straighten it out with simply paying back the debt.

But this isn't anything like that, this is monumental. All of their resources together will never be enough to get them out of this.

[head-psychic.livejournal.com]

Shawn tries to calm down. Yeah, they'll find a way out of this. They've always found a way out of everything. Like MacGyver. Who would get out of this mess with a chewing gum and two handfuls of dirt. Shawn takes a look around and sees neither in the office.

And suddenly he has to laugh. It's slightly hysteric, but still, he's laughing and he can't help it. "Dude."

He tries to find the right words and fails, because there are no words to describe how hilarious this would be - if it wasn't so totally screwed up. "I mean, listen to that. We've been married since we're eighteen. Now we can truly say we've seen and done it all."

[bigkitty75.livejournal.com]

Obviously Gus is missing the joke here. "That's not funny, Shawn."

And he's completely serious. If there's one thing they should both be able to agree on right now, it's that this is not a joke. "Besides, I don't know what you're ideas of marriage are, but mine certainly don't include the kind of lifestyle we've been living for the past ten years, so once again, no. We haven't seen and done it all, we're not married. And, Shawn, even if we were, let's just say you won't be getting any husband of the year nominations from this guy here."

With that Gus stalks to his desk, flips his laptop open and starts typing furiously. He's compiling every financial file in his computer and e-mailing them to his accountant, that should help cover some of shawn's end, the psych stuff at least.

[head-psychic.livejournal.com]

"Well, excuse me for neglecting my matrimonial duties. I would have cooked you dinner and warmed your slippers every night if I had known they existed. The duties not the slippers. Do you have slippers? And by the way, since you have done neither it doesn't look too good for you as well."

Shawn slumps onto the couch and rests his arms on his forehead, blocking the view to the ceiling and hiding his serious face.

Married.

He doesn't like the sound of it. He doesn't like the situation because they are in some serious trouble here. Which is why the only thing he can do is laugh. And also because it is one of the most ridiculous things that ever happened to them - no matter how severe it might affect their lives. It's still ridiculous.

"So what do we do now?"

[bigkitty75.livejournal.com]

"Yes, in fact I do have slippers. Not that I'd need you to warm them for me as I am perfectly capable of warming my own slippers when I feel like it."

But Gus doesn't really feel up to a full fledged argument either, something about this is hitting a little too close to home, and making him remember the times right before... well, right before Shawn's house stopped being the place where you could find the entire Spencer family.

Gus sighs and pulls something out of his desk drawer. He tosses the bag of M&Ms onto Shawn's stomach. "Heads up, man."

He waits until Shawn looks at him and offers a small smile as an apology. "Is that a good enough gift to regain a little standing? I've got doritos in here too, if it isn't."

Gus twists his rolling chair around and gets comfortable. "Now? Well, I thought you'd have a plan by now?"

[head-psychic.livejournal.com]

Shawn blinks at the M&Ms on his upper body and snatches the bag. "You have Doritos? And you didn't feel like sharing earlier? Sometimes I am merely stunned by your greed."

Shawn sits up and starts picking out all the green M&Ms. "Well. Actually, I do have a plan. You might not like it - but it might very well save our asses. And, most important, give us some time."

He raises from the couch, walking up and down before turning back to Gus, spreading his arms. "It will take some time until your attorney has this cleared up, right? So until we know what's going on or what the best move is we have to play along. Pretend the merry married marriage. Because as long as we are the happy couple from next door Jones can't act. The longer Jones can't act the higher our chances to find some way out of this."

[bigkitty75.livejournal.com]

Gus opens his mouth to argue with that. If he didn't already assume Shawn was crazy on a day to day basis, he'd be pretty sure his best friend just went off his rocker right now.

But no words come out, because...

Because, God help them, that's actually a plausable idea.

Execpt, no, that's not going to work. "No way in a million years, Shawn. Just think of all the people we know! Nobody is going to believe we're a couple and have just been keeping it between ourselves! We work with the police, they'll figure it out."

Can he help it if that sounded a little hysterical?

But, what else can they do? Gus slumps, head in hands. "I just can't... is there no other way? No? How are we going to pull this off?"

[head-psychic.livejournal.com]

Shawn tilts his head to the side and thinks. "Well, you... could buy me flowers from time to time."

[bigkitty75.livejournal.com]

Gus just gives Shawn a look.

[head-psychic.livejournal.com]

"Or candies." He blinks and looks at the M&Ms in his hand. "See! You're already totally in-character! It's a breeze!"

[bigkitty75.livejournal.com]

It's on the tip of Gus's tongue to ask for the M&Ms back. But really what's going to be accomplished by that.

"In-character? Right. Well, at least we don't have to pretend when it's just us."

Though Gus has no idea of what all this pretending is eventually going to entail, but knowing Shawn, there are most probably going to be some awkward future moments.

[head-psychic.livejournal.com]

"Did you finish the e-mail?"

Shawn circles the desk, trying to spot the Doritos when another thing crosses his mind. "Dude, we need rings."

[bigkitty75.livejournal.com]

"Rings? No! Why would we need rings, we could just be one of those, 'secure in our relationship enought not to need physical reminders' couple types."

Gus spins the chair to face Shawn this way. "What about the e-mail?"

[head-psychic.livejournal.com]

Shawn rolls his eyes. "Gus, please, do you seriously want to explain that every time someone asks us about our relationship? Besides, people expect you to wear rings. It keeps them off your lawn. ... yard? Garden?"

[bigkitty75.livejournal.com]

"Not garden, but yeah that's another thing. How long do you think this is going to take? I mean I seriously don't want to tie up my personal life for any longer than say, a week, two maybe."

Gus frowns, thinking this might cause more damage than just the inconvience of the moment. What are people going to think of them after this?

[head-psychic.livejournal.com]

Shawn shrugs. "I don't know. Don't worry, your attorney is some slick guy, right? He'll fix it."

He slaps his friend's back. "Gus, come on. Everything will be fine. Jones can't do anything as long as we pull this off and afterwards? People know us, Gus. They will shake their heads, thinking we just pulled the best prank ever on them. Maybe they'll be annoyed, maybe they will even laugh. We just yell 'surprise, surprise' and everything is back to normal."

[bigkitty75.livejournal.com]

Gus thinks about it, alright he can possibly see people reacting that way. So he shrugs. "Alright, okay. I'll pick us up some rings later today. Ah, what size are you?"

Gus peers at Shawn's hand curiously. With an odd feeling that he should already know the answer to this question.

Oh, jeezus.

He's got to stop that right now, there's no way he's going to pretend that convincingly.

[head-psychic.livejournal.com]

Shawn blinks. "Uhm. Nine, I think. I don't know, Gus, I don't wear rings! Nine sounds good though. Pick nine."

He frowns, concentrating. "Is there anything else we need? Otherwise, I'd say we finally take care of those post-panic-tacos on the desk."

[bigkitty75.livejournal.com]

"You're hungry now?" But actually the thought of tacos does trigger an automatic urge to eat in Gus.

"Right, well I can't think of anything else... well, execpt..." Gus frowns, which by this time is less severe and confused and more his usual mild discomfort expression. "How are we going to explain the seperate apartments thing?"

[head-psychic.livejournal.com]

"I am definitely hungry. Besides, you've been working all day. Take a break! I don't want my husband to suffer from a burnout syndrome."

Shawn grabs tacos and remote and waves Gus over to the couch. "As for the apartment thing, I already have a plan..."

OOC

[vivo-per-ardua.livejournal.com]

((OH. MY. GOD. THIS IS PERFECT. I just died laughing. You are my hero.))

Re: OOC

[head-psychic.livejournal.com]

We aim to please. :D Thank you!

ooc

[r-vecchio.livejournal.com]

LMFAO!!! Priceless! How did you guys come up with this?! XD

Re: ooc

[head-psychic.livejournal.com]

We talked to each other. XD