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"All I'm saying is that it's not okay to steal, Gus," Shawn said as they got out of the Blueberry. The Chief had called them down to the station to "psychically read" a suspect, and they had been bickering since they left.
"I didn't steal your shirt, Shawn," Gus replied, locking the car. "Although technically," Gus added a moment later, walking beside Shawn into the police station, "it's my shirt, since you used my card and my money to buy it."
"Semantics." Shawn waved him off. As Gus cut in ("it's not semantics, Shawn"), Shawn clarified, "The point here being, Gus, that if you want to borrow my shirt, all you need to do is ask. I know, I know, the last time I wore it, you complained about 'clashing colors', but we are best friends and I won't judge."
"You always judge, Shawn. Plus, those colors really do clash. There's no way that shirt can look good on just anybody."
"It looked good on me until you stole it." Shawn and Gus walked into the viewing room to the interrogation room, where Carlton and Jules were grilling a suspect. There was something different about Carlton, but Gus was still talking.
"I'm telling you, Shawn, I did not steal your shirt. This is just like last week. You thought your dad hid your Whitesnake T-shirt from you, but I found that at Psych a day later. You lose things, Shawn, and I bet you lost this shirt, too." Gus was smirking like he won the argument, and Shawn opened his mouth to tell him that that proved nothing. Gus had a history of stealing shirts from him (never mind that they were usually Gus' shirts that Gus was stealing back).
Carlton and Juliet exited the interrogation room just as Shawn was about to reply, and Shawn realized what was different about Carlton in the same moment that Gus did.
"Is that your shirt?" Gus asked in a loud whisper after a moment of them staring. Shawn nodded slowly.
Carlton's ears perked up, and he flushed slightly. "Yeah, about that" Carlton said, rubbing his neck nervously. "I may have borrowed it from the Psych office. I actually may have borrowed a couple since Drimmer..." Carlton cleared his throat and stood up straight. "Your shirts are surprisingly adequate, Spencer," he said with a nod. Shawn stared at him. "And they have saved me in an emergency more than once."
"Carlton keeps spilling coffee on himself," Juliet informed them.
"On accident," Carlton interjected quickly.
Juliet wrinkled her nose at him. "Of course on accident. Why would you spill hot coffee on yourself on purpose?"
There was a brief silence, and then Carlton stuttered slightly as he said, "We're done questioning the suspect. Meet us in the Chief's office when you're done," before turning and walking away, Juliet following immediately, if slightly confused.
Shawn pursed his lips thoughtfully as Gus looked smug. "I told you I didn't steal your shirt."
"When you're right, you're right, Gus," Shawn moved to push open the interrogation room, "but especially about the shirt." Gus made a noise of confusion, and Shawn specified, "It doesn't look good on just anybody."