Sentinel Fan Fiction Page || Fanfic -- Missing Scenes Collection

Summary: Simon asks for Blair's help in readying Jim's surprise. Spoilers for His Brother's Keeper.

This has been floating around in my head in bits and pieces for awhile and with Simon bugging me that he feels neglected, well, I decided just to write it and be done with it. ~sigh~ The things I do for this fandom.... ;-)

Setting Up the Scene
missing scene from His Brother's Keeper
by Becky
March 1998

Hand half-raised to knock on the wooden door, Simon hesitated, wondering if this was the right idea after all. What other choice do you have, Banks? You need to get Ellison there. And this may be the only way. With a sigh, he cleared his throat and rapped three times on the door, looking around self-consciously. He felt out of place since when he wasn't there on official business. Hell, I am out of place. He pasted a polite smile on his face when several people passed him, eyeing him curiously. Growing impatient, he raised his hand and knocked again at the closed door, harder, faster.

Finally a distracted voice answered dimly from within. "Come in."

He opened the door carefully, wary of entering a room labeled "Artifact Room #3" even if there was a nameplate below it. A nameplate made of paper and taped on the door, but a nameplate nonetheless.

At first, Simon didn't see anyone, then a noise to his left caught his attention and he saw the object of his visit, back to him, shifting stuff around on a long, very cluttered table that was affixed to the wall. Dressed in faded black jeans, scruffy tennis shoes, and a long-sleeved blue plaid shirt, he didn't look much older than the students Simon had passed in the hall. Actually Sandburg probably isn't that much older. He opened his mouth to say something, but the other man beat him to it.

"Sorry I didn't hear you at the door. I've been moving stuff around in here. Got a little noisy. Why don't you have a seat? Move whatever you need to out of the way."

Simon looked at the two chairs set in front of the desk. Both had an overwhelming abundance of files and papers stacked on them. One had some dusty old clay pot sitting precariously on the top of a paper pile as well. He shook his head in quiet amusement and said, "I think I'd prefer to stand."

Blair whirled around. "Simon! What are you doing here? I mean, hi, um, let me just move some of this stuff out of the way for you." He hurried forward, scooping up the nearest stack of files and papers, the one that had the clay pot stacked on top. In his rush, he didn't get everything balanced quite right and the pot started to fall, heading for a fatal impact with the hard floor.

Simon jerked forward and snatched it before it fell all the way, sighing. "Sandburg, I said I could stand."

Blair set the pile aside and took the pot from Simon's hands. "Oh, man, thank you, Simon. Nice catch. Let me, um, let me put this away." He set the pot on a shelf, then dusted his hands off on his jeans and turned back to Simon, smiling brightly, "So, to what do I owe this visit?"

Simon shifted once, then began slowly. "It's about Jim . . ." He didn't get any further.

Blair's eyes went wide with fear and worry and Simon swore his face got two shades paler. Words tumbled out at a light speed rate, arguing with each other for precedence. "Jim? What's wrong? What is it? Is he in the hospital? Shot? Hurt somehow? Is it his senses? Did he zone during some kind of bust? I knew I should have gone into the station today." He headed to his chair in a rush, grabbing his jacket. "Where is he, Simon? You gotta take me to him. Please tell me he's all right, that he's not . . . Just tell me he's all right. I don't think I could . . ."

Simon lifted both hands. "Sandburg! Will you stop long enough for me to say something?" Blair paused, swallowing hard, and nodded once, jerkily to Simon. Damn, he's terrified I'm gonna tell him Jim's dead. Not how I meant to do this. The police captain laid a hand on Blair's shoulder, squeezing it. "Jim is fine. There's nothing wrong. He's not shot, not hurt, not in the hospital. Nothing wrong with his senses. I left him working on a backlog of reports at the station. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. That came out all wrong."

Blair stared at him a moment longer, then just sorta . . . 'wilted' was the only word that came to Simon's mind. He watched, eyes narrowed in concern as Blair fell down into the chair he'd just cleared for Simon and rubbed both hands over his face. Simon didn't say anything, just waited for Blair to say something, anything. Finally, he breathed out in a rush and looked up at Simon. "Don't do that to me, man, you had me convinced that Jim was on his deathbed or something."

"Yeah, I know. I should have realized that before I said it. Again, I apologize."

Waving a hand, Blair stood. "S'okay." He tossed his jacket back to his desk chair, then leaned against the desk, "Well, now that I won't need any coffee for the next couple hours, what can I do for you, Captain?"

Simon raised an eyebrow at the rare usage of his title, then plowed on. "Okay, as I was saying, this is about Jim. But it's not something he knows about, so you have to keep your mouth shut. You cannot breathe a word to him. You got it?" Blair nodded, eyes bright and a little suspicious. Simon continued, pulling a folded piece of paper from his pocket and handing it to Blair. "Here, read this. It'll explain most of this better than I could."

Blair took the paper, then pulled his glasses from his shirt pocket and slipped them on. He unfolded the paper, revealing a letter written on official city stationery. He read through it quickly, murmuring under his breath quietly. Simon counted silently in his head, wondering how long it would take for Blair to start bouncing.

1, 2, 3 . . .

"Simon, this is great! Officer of the Year. Way cool. Jim really, really deserves this! He doesn't know about this? How did you keep it from him?"

Simon grinned. "I have my ways. Now here comes the hard part. Jim and the mayor, well, let's just say they have a less than cordial relationship and leave it at that. If we tell Jim about this whole thing, he won't want to go. He'll just conveniently forget."

"Not if you tell him it's a work thing."

"I know. That was the plan. However, I still want to be sure that he gets there, on time, dressed properly. And that he stays there. I figured that maybe . . ."

Blair bounced on his toes. "You figured maybe I could help. Sure, Simon, I'd be thrilled to help." He paused, glancing at the letter still in his hands, "Simon, this thing is dated two weeks ago. You waited this long to tell me?"

Simon chuckled. "Sandburg, I am not a fool, you know. One look at you and Ellison would know something is up. You can't keep something like this from him if you tried. The man knows you too well and your face is an open book. 'Yes, Jim, I have a secret, yes, it's about you, yes, Simon is in on it too, yes, so is the rest of the station, yes, you are the only one in the dark.'"

Blair blushed and laughed, both embarrassed and a little touched by Simon's warm teasing. "Yeah, yeah, yeah, pick on the anthropologist." He sighed dramatically and Simon rolled his eyes. Blair grinned again and fingered the letter speculatively. "So, you want Jim in a tux, I assume?"

"That would my first choice, yes. Does he have one?"

"I have no idea. I'll worry about that in a minute. How are you going to convince him to be there?"

"Well, my plan was to have you and him meet me at the track tomorrow morning, late, to see my horse."

Blair choked out. "You? Have a horse? What horse?"

Simon smiled, straightening slightly. "Yes, I have a horse, or rather Major Crimes has a horse. Little Stogie. A racehorse. Gonna be in the races."

Blair shook his head. "Simon Banks has a racehorse named Little Stogie. I must be dreaming."

"Are you done?"

"Yeah, yeah, sorry, you were talking about Jim . . ."

Simon nodded and went on. "I had planned to tell him that the mayor specifically asked for him to provide security at this little shindig at the track. Jim knows the mayor has something planned, but as far as we can tell, he hasn't figured what yet. Actually, I don't think he even cares."

"Just who else is involved in this little ruse of yours and how long have you all known?"

"One, most of Major Crimes knows. Two, pretty much as long as I've known. We've been planning this thing in stages, when you and Jim were out of the office."

Blair laughed. "Is that why we had so many wide-flung cases so suddenly and you didn't care about the paperwork being done. And here I thought you were just tired of seeing us in the office or something."

Simon snorted. "I don't think I'll answer that one. So, do you think you can keep Jim in the dark for another day? And make sure he gets to the reception?"

"Oh, yeah, he'll be there. We'll both be there. With bells on."

"Just be on time, Sandburg. And leave the bells at home."

- The End -