This is a challenge TAE put to all of us at the Napa Sentinel Party (pictures from that party are coming soon!). Of course, I had to wait till finals to write it. *grin* No warnings. Rated G.

Simon Says

Sandburg stepped into the bullpen, heading immediately for Jim's desk. "Here ya go," he said, dropping the brown bag on Jim's desk. "Next time don't put the bagels under the seat. This is the second time you've left them in the truck, man."

Jim opened his mouth to reply when Simon's voice interrupted. "Sandburg. Ellison. My office."

The detective rose from his chair, briefly exchanging glances with Blair as they headed into the Captain's office. Jim dropped into a seat near Simon's desk while Sandburg propped himself against the table.

"What's up, Simon?" Blair inquired.

The dark man scowled. "That's Captain to you, Sandburg."

Blair looked briefly up at the ceiling, dangerously close to rolling his eyes. He caught sight of the warrior statue he'd seen earlier on top of the bookcase -- the one Simon had snatched from his hands. It really was an interesting piece, and he thought about asking the Captain where he'd gotten it from. Who knows? Maybe Simon's a closet anthropologist, after all!

"You with us, Sandburg?" Banks interjected, a note of irritation in his voice.

Blair pulled his attention away from the statue. "Uh. Yeah, Simon."

"That's Captain," Banks growled again, throwing an irritated glance at Jim, who simply shrugged. With an exasperated sigh, the Captain looked back at Blair and pointed to the empty chair. "Sit."

"Simon says," Blair muttered under his breath, pushing himself off the table and taking up the spare seat.

"What was that, Sandburg?" Simon growled, glaring at the younger man.

"Uh, nothing, Si... sir."

"What did you want, sir?" Jim prompted, steering the Captain's attention away from the anthropologist.

"You free this Friday?" Simon asked.

Jim glanced at Sandburg. "Uh, Yeah. Why?"

"Daryl wants to go see that damn Star Wars movie. He wants Sandburg along."

Blair broke into a huge grin. "Really?"

"Yeah, really. You can wipe that stupid smile off your face, Sandburg. I don't want you giving him anymore career advice. Got it?"

"Simon says," came a low reply, and Blair's eyes widened to glance at Jim. He overcame his initial surprise at Jim's comment and found himself stifling a dangerous chuckle.

"You got something to say, Detective?" Simon inquired.

Jim donned an innocent expression, his eyes forward. "Uh, no, sir."

"Good. So what is it? Yes or no on Star Wars?"

"Definitely yes!" Blair jumped in. "But do you have tickets? It's going to sell out --"

"Yes, I bought four tickets in advance," the Captain replied. "Fighting crowds and listening to a bunch of kids scream over some movie isn't my idea of a good time," he continued, looking back at Jim. "Which is why you're along. I'm not putting up with Daryl and Sandburg together."

Blair raised his eyebrows. "I am almost 30 years old, Simon."

"Going on 13," Simon shot back, eliciting a chuckle from Jim. Blair simply rolled his eyes, but Simon ignored him. "So it's 7 pm Friday. Got it?"

"Okay," the partners chimed.

Simon released a long-suffering sigh, waving the two men away. "Go on, get out of here. Back to work."

"Simon says," Blair grumbled, slightly louder than he had the first time.

Banks shot a narrow glare at the younger man and rose out of his chair, leaning forward and pressing his palms onto the desktop. "Simon says you'd better get your ass out of his office right now and get to work on that report which had better be on his desk by 4 pm this evening."

Blair swallowed hard and nodded, rising from his chair just as Jim got to his feet. "Yes, sir."

"Uh, Captain, sir," Jim began, "does this mean you're paying for our movie tickets?"

"Uh, n --" Simon began, only to be cut off by Blair.

"Hey, yeah, thanks!" Sandburg's face lit up.

"Yes, that's very kind of you, sir."

Simon glared at the two men, then his face softened and he chuckled. "Fine. Whatever... Hey, Jim, Simon says he's treating you to lunch today because he needs to get out of this damn office." He glanced at Blair. "You can come, too, Sandburg, but we're picking the place."

"Cool!" Blair clapped his hands together. "Thanks for the treat." He graciously grabbed Simon's coat from the rack and handed it to the man.

Banks stared coolly at the young man, taking the jacket. "Simon didn't say he was treating you."

Blair jaw dropped. "Hey, but we're a package deal."

Jim simply chuckled, following the Captain out of the office.

Sandburg hesitated for only a moment, staring after the two retreating men. Then he plastered a wicked grin on his face and barreled after them, withdrawing two sets of keys from his pocket and jangling them in the air.

"Yeah, well, Sandburg says we're going to Charlie's." He bounced past the two older men, heading for the elevators.

Simon's face registered his surprise, and he quickly patted his jacket pockets. "Why you --"

"Sandburg," Jim growled, "give me those keys."

Blair shook his head, realizing he'd be trapped near the elevators, and darted to his left toward the staircase. "Nope, not unless you old folks think you can catch up to a thirteen year old," he laughed, ducking into the staircase.

The elevators dinged open, and Jim and Simon exchanged amused glances as they walked into the lift.

"I think he forgot that it's eight flights to the garage," Jim commented.

"We'll beat him," Simon smirked just as the doors slid closed.

The End
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