I don't own Psych or Castle. I just like to play with the characters nicely. This fic is a collaborations with DinerGuy and therefore she deserves credit too. Check her fics out!
Shawn Spencer had a focused and concentrated look on his face, a sight very few people ever saw. He was focused on the stack of waffles in front of him. "Gus," He looked up at his partner across the table. "Are waffles one of those things where you have to cut along the lines?"
Gus raised an eyebrow. "Since when have you ever cut along the lines? Your cutout map of California in the fifth grade looked more like Taiwan."
"Mrs. Abercrombie said to use autistic freedom," Shawn objected.
"Artistic," Gus dutifully corrected his friend.
"I've heard it both-" Shawn stopped and began staring past Gus' head.
"Ways?" Gus looked up from his bowl of granola when Shawn paused. "Shawn, what are you looking at?"
"Doesn't that guy look familiar?" Shawn pointed behind Gus.
"Shawn, if this is just a way to get me to turn around so you can steal my strawberries, I am not going to be happy." Gus turned in his chair. Behind him was a man in a shirt and dress pants. No tie and his hair was on the messy side. He was wearing sunglasses and flirting with the girl at the cash register.
"Seriously, he looks really familiar." Shawn had scrunched up his face in thought.
"Shawn!" Gus hissed. "Oh my gosh, Shawn. Do you have any idea who that is?" He started rocking back and forth in his chair and making almost inaudible noises.
"Gus, don't be an eleven year old fangirl for the Jonas Brothers. If I knew who it was, I wouldn't have asked you."
Gus reached for his samples case that was sitting on the floor beside him. He had been hoping to start on his route before Shawn abducted him for breakfast. Fishing a hardcover book out of the case, he hurriedly stood up.
"Dude, what's the rush? Did you forget to return that library book?"
Gus ignored Shawn's question and got up from the table. "Mr. Castle!" Gus rushed over to the man at whom Shawn had been staring. "Richard Castle? I am a huge fan of yours."
Richard Castle looked up from his conversation with the cashier as a young man hurried up to him. When someone said his full name in public, he was usually then assaulted by a motherly woman in her mid-forties armed with a Sharpie and the entire body of his works. To be approached by a young man in his early-thirties was a change, and the fact the man was carrying a first edition of In a Hail of Bullets was even more surprising.
Reluctantly pulling himself away from the young woman, Rick offered a smile. "That would be me. What can I do for you?"
"Mr. Castle, I am a huge fan of yours," the other man repeated. "Would you mind?" He held the novel out towards the author, holding it as if it were a priceless ancient manuscript.
Castle fumbled around in his jacket looking for a pen. Finding one he accepted the book and flipped to the title page. "Who can I make this out to?" He looked up towards the man, who was rocking on the balls of his feet.
"Burton Guster," Gus carefully enunciated his name.
Castle looked up at Gus and he didn't bother hiding the smile that played at his lips. "Are you sure?" Gus's eyes started to cloud with anger at the jab at his name. "Because maybe this should be made out to Gee Buttersnaps, Lavender Goomes, Gus 'Sillypants' Jackson, or possibly even Gus Hollabackatcha."
Gus's jaw dropped, and it took him several tries to get the question out. "Excuse me?"
Shawn had gotten very curious when this man Gus seemed to like so much had used Gus' nicknames, the very nicknames Shawn had created. He headed for where they were standing and heard the man continuing to talk to Gus.
"Burton 'Gus' Guster, you work for Psych, the psychic detective agency that the Santa Barbara Police Department has hired."
"And I'm Shawn Spencer, the psychic detective." Shawn put a heavy emphasis on the word 'psychic' as he interrupted them.
"Ah, yes," Castle smiled and looked Shawn over. "Your hair looks better in person; the pictures don't really do it justice."
Shawn smiled and reached up to pat his carefully-styled hair. "Why thank you. Although I am curious as to how you know so much. You're not a stalker, are you? Because Gus here is deathly afraid of stalkers-"
Shooting Shawn a horrified look, Gus cut him off. "You can just make it out to Burton Guster, if you don't mind." He gave Shawn a kick in the shins as Castle gave them a confused look and signed the book.
Shawn rubbed his shin, and then looked at the signature. "R. Castle?"
"Richard Castle. You two can call me Rick though, since we're going to be co-workers for the next week or so."
"Gus, you got us hired at a Renaissance Festival?" Shawn pouted. "You know I have to okay any outside jobs."
"Richard Castle is a writer, Shawn." Gus sounded utterly offended for Castle at Shawn's wisecrack. "He wrote the Derrick Storm novels and just started writing a new series starring Nikki Heat."
Shawn pulled a face. "Nikki Heat sounds like a stripper name."
"That's what Beckett said," Castle mumbled under his breath.
"So, if we're not working at a festival, why are we working together?" Shawn persisted. "Because Gus can't write anything other than pharmaceutical reports and Lassiter burned the last short story I wrote into a pile of ash."
"Shawn, you know he only did that because you wrote about him going on an assignment in Norfolk and marrying the goth girl from NCIS. You know how he hates that show." Kicking Shawn again, Gus turned to Castle. "Why are you in town? New York is a long way from Santa Barbara."
"Wow, Gus, you get an A+ in geometry," Shawn grumbled, still upset over the jab at his writing.
"Geography," Gus and Castle corrected him at the same time.
"I'm here to do some research for a novel I'm writing for charity," Castle explained, holding out a flat palm to Gus. Gus stared at it. "Feed the Birds?" Castle asked, getting distracted by Gus' confused face. "Like this." He took his other hand and made a bird beak out of it and proceeded to have one hand 'eat' out of the other hand.
"Ooohhhh," Gus said, immediately reaching out a hand to 'feed the birds'. "Who are you researching?"
"Me, Gus." Shawn raised a hand to his temple. "The spirits are telling me Ricky is very interested in me, and not just for my awesome hair line and impressive high score on Pong."
"That's true." Castle was giddy as he watched Shawn's charade. "I'm writing a story about a psychic detective and since I've got a friendship with the mayor, I pulled some strings and took a two week vacation."
Gus's expression could only be described as delighted. "You'll be researching us? For two weeks?"
"Me; he'll be researching me for two weeks, Gus," Shawn corrected.
"Well, only a week; unless you guys get a really cool case, I was going to head down the coast to LA as well. I've got some friends down there I'd like to visit."
Gus nodded solemnly. "Have you thought up a name for your character yet?"
Castle nodded. "I'm planning on using the name Alex Syte. Lots of good book titles to get out of that: Future Syte, Second Syte, Hind Syte."
Shawn made a face at the name. "Really? Isn't it a little cheesy?"
"Haven't you read any of my books? I live off horrible puns," Castle assured him.
Gus nudged Shawn in the ribs. "You're the one who convinced Lassie that Thesealion was a French name."
Castle raised his eyebrows. "Thesealion, I like it." He checked his watch. "I've got another hour or so before I'm supposed to be meeting with a Detective Lassiter. What's he like?"
Shawn and Gus looked at each other and then turned back to Castle.
"Let's just say the man would never shoot a cat," Shawn began.
"Unless it approached him in a threatening manner."
"Or it had wronged him somehow."