Notes: Fan fiction should come with a Surgeon Generals Warning: Highly Addictive; may cause manic episodes of writing.
Thanks to Bast for the quick beta.
Observation
Simon Banks was not quite sure how he had gotten talked into giving up a Saturday to help Brown move, but regardless, Saturday morning found him climbing the stairs to the loft. He had agreed it would be more practical to ride with Ellison and Sandburg in Ellison's truck, since all three men were pitching in to help Brown.
Simon reached #307, and thought how odd it was that Jim hadn't opened the door yet. He knocked on the door and realized it was even stranger that he had become accustomed to the weirdness inherent in their friendship, first with Jim, then with Blair, too.
Working with Sentinel and Guide was at times frustrating, irritating, and downright dangerous; but the reward of seeing Jim use his abilities to keep his city safe was enormous. Simon was proud that he was able to help.
Simon knocked again, louder. There was no way Jim could not have heard; he was probably in the shower. Sandburg could sleep through almost anything; it might take a bit more volume to wake him.
He waited a few minutes, then pounded vigorously on the door. Simon felt a twinge of concern. Ellison and Sandburg were trouble magnets. They attracted psychos and nutcases like flies to honey. The twinge of concern grew into a flare of worry. He waited a couple of minutes. Once more he pounded on the door. If they didn't open the door right away
Jim flung the door wide. "Took you long enough!" Simon growled, to mask his concern.
"Morning, Simon." Jim replied. "We overslept."
Simon stepped in. He carefully studied his best detective. Jim looked disheveled, his hair in disarray, and he was humming as he made coffee. Simon was a detective before he made Captain, and those observational skills were deeply ingrained. Something strange was going on, stranger that usual, anyway, and he was determined to get to the bottom of it.
Simon put the bakery bag he was carrying on the counter. "I brought bagels, and that veggie spread the kid likes."
Jim turned and grinned. "Thanks. Coffee will be ready in a minute. Help yourself." He went upstairs to the bedroom just as the bathroom door opened and Blair exited in a cloud of steam. "Good morning, Simon!" he said cheerfully.
Simon busied himself preparing a bagel and getting coffee as the two men got ready. Blair soon joined him at breakfast. "Hey, you got veggie spread. Terrific, I'm starving!"
Simon listened with half an ear as Blair recounted a tale of some tribal culture or other, and young males establishing their own territory as a show of manhood. As Blair expounded on his theme, waving his bagel for emphasis, Simon wondered, not for the first time, how two such wildly different personalities had formed such a strong bond. The kid was a good influence on his best detective, making a surly loner more human. For his part, Jim seemed to have settled the kid, giving the grad student a focus for all his restless energy. He suspected Sandburg felt more than friendship for the older man but Jim never seemed to catch the adoring glances sent his way. And if he occasionally caught his best detective looking hungrily at a certain observer, well, it just wasn't his place to say anything Simon brought his attention back to the conversation. Blair was still talking, "tribal equivalent in modern society, so this is why all of Major Crimes is helping Brown move, of course."
"Sandburg, you're telling me we're helping Brown move so he can show he's a grown up?"
Blair snickered. "You've worked with him longer that I have. What do you think?"
Freshly showered and dressed, Jim walked up. "Nah. We're helping him move because his sister makes the best fried chicken I've ever tasted, and she promised to feed us."
Blair smiled incandescently at Jim. He returned the look, an unaccustomed softness to his normally stern features.
Simon observed the interplay between his friends. He took a sip of his coffee to hide his grin. Once a detective... he thought. It seems I was right.
"Gentlemen, let's get this show on the road. We have moving to do."
