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This is kind of a pointless story. Basically I’m calling it the "Get to know your Simon" story. You see, I don’t think enough is written about him. Somebody had to do it! The Sentinel and its characters are the property of Pet Fly Productions...Except for Meg, who is owned by Stu Segall Productions and Stephen J. Cannell. But you already knew that didn’t you? =) njoy.
A Day in the Life Of
Simon
By Laura Thomas
Captain Simon Banks wondered why he always had to be the first one at the office and the last one to leave. Sometimes he felt the stress take its toll. Even to the point of burn-out. Heaven knew it was taking a toll on the relationship with his son, Daryl. Just a few weeks ago he had to cancel out on ‘his weekend’ to take his son, due to a case that had come up. He hated to disappoint Daryl, especially when he didn’t get to see him that much in the first place. The next weekend would be different. He would make a point to leave the station early on Friday and go pick up his son at school.
The phone on his desk rang. Oh great, probably the Chief, just who I don’t need breathing down my neck. "Banks." When Daryl comes over this weekend, the cell phone and beeper are staying in the office, so nobody can reach me.
"Hello Captain."
Simon immediately recognized the gruff voice of the Chief. "Oh hello Chief Warren." he said with feigned pleasantness.
"Have your men got the Marten case closed yet?"
Oh man, here it comes. "No sir, the Marten murder case has not been wrapped up yet."
"What about the Jackson case?"
"No neither has the Jackson murder." he took off his wire rimmed glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. The tension was beginning to give him a headache.
"Dammit Banks, I’ve got a committee meeting later and they want to see those cases done. There’s a lot of pressure about this and I don’t need to be the one to disappoint them."
"Yes sir, I know the committee is wanting--"
"Get it done Banks." the Chief cut in.
God I hate tap-dancing. "Sir, I’ve got some of my best detectives on those cases."
"Well then, it should be done already. Do you know how important to the department Meg Gordon is, Banks? Without her, you can kiss our new forensic equipment goodbye."
"Yes, I know that Meg is a large contributor to the department, but I can’t make her husbands murderer--" Warren cut him off again. The phone is going out the damn window!
"Also, a couple of your detectives seem to have been harassing the Mayor’s son about the Jackson case."
"They were asking who questions?"
"Now Banks, I don’t like getting calls directly from the mayor in the first place. I really don’t like getting them when they’re about your men. See that its taken care of."
"Ok sir, I’ll have a talk with them. Goodbye." This is going to be a long day.
He got up and walked to his office door. Eyeing the detective in major sheep-dip. Simon flung the door open "Brown! Get in here!" He hated to yell at his men, but sometimes he didn’t have the patience to mickey mouse around, so he would just get to the point by yelling. The detective muttered something under his breath and looked innocently at Ellison’s partner. Ellison, now where the Hell is he? The kid wasn’t making eye contact with the Captain. Probably a wise decision the older man figured.
Simon returned to his desk and let the detective close the door behind him. His tone of voice softened from the angry yell before. "What the Hell did you think you were doing asking the Mayor’s son about the murder of Gregg Jackson?"
"Sir, he knew the deceased. Apparently they hung out with the same people."
"You mean the Mayor’s son is in a gang?" Banks said in mild surprise. Not a lot surprised Simon anymore. Especially after Blair had come into Jim’s life. Never had he expected the cold-hearted cop to turn into a warm caring person, practically overnight. And then there were the senses. Well, that was a whole different ball of wax.
"Hard to say sir, we can’t exactly bring him in and ask him."
"Yeah. Now I know you didn’t go harassing him like Chief Warren said you did, but you wanna be careful about who you go talking to from now on?" The Captain chided.
"No problem sir." Brown agreed.
"So, Ryf is just as guilty as you are. Where the Hell is he at?"
"Beats me. Sandburg said he saw him go to lunch."
Lunch would be nice...maybe I’ll have time today. He looked through the office windows and noticed that the kid was gone. Oh great, I’ve got an empty bull-pen, a detective I’ve got to get motivated, and I know he’s hiding in the building somewhere..."By the way, have you seen Ellison?"
"Apparently he’s nowhere to be found. Blair couldn’t find him either." Brown explained pointing over his shoulder towards Ellison’s now empty desk.
"If you find him, tell him that I need to see him in my office. Now go on, get out of here." Banks said waving the detective out the door.
*********************************************************
Simon glanced up from his work and noticed that Jim had decided to return from wherever he had been. Ah ha, Ellison lives! He got up and opened his office door and leaned against the frame. "Ellison, so nice of you to grace us with your presence. Now would you like to step into my office?"
Brown looked up from his work. "Oh yeah, hey Jim. Simon wants to see you in his office." He chimed in with a barely contained laugh.
Smart-ass. "Hey Brown, maybe you could try that BEFORE I ask him next time?
"Oh right, before. Gotcha sir." Brown said, chuckling.
"Uh huh." And they wonder why I yell so much.
Simon sat back down at his desk and pulled out a fresh cigar.
"What’s up sir?" asked the sentinel.
"Got a little phone call from the Chief today. He isn’t to happy with the progress you’ve made on the Marten case. Or lack thereof." That wasn’t entirely true, Jim had made progress on the case, Warren just didn’t see it that way. One thing he hated was when the Chief underestimated his detectives...especially the ones that had heightened senses.
"Ah, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that sir." Jim paused not wanting to break the news to the already irritated Captain. "I think I need to bring his wife, Meg Gordon in for questioning."
"Why?" the Captain asked slowly, not wanting to hear the inevitable answer. Oh great, as if my day couldn’t get any worse. Not only is she a contributor to the department, she’s also a contributor to the damn morgue.
"She’s become the prime suspect in her husband’s murder." Jim said, looking like he was going to his own funeral.
"Just what I didn’t want to hear." He lit the cigar. "Well go on, bring her in. But you want to do it nicely? Just in case. She’s a little iffy at the moment and we don’t need her going on some sort of rampage against the department." ‘Iffy’ was putting it nicely, despite her generous contributions, lately the woman had been a bona-fide nut case.
"Great sir, no problem." Jim said, relieved to be getting off easy.
Banks watched them leave his office and get on the elevators. When the doors had closed behind them, he let out a long sigh. Great, no more CPD basketball games. I liked those. He sat back in his chair taking a long drag from his cigar. He was tempted to put his feet up on his desk, but thought better of it. Instead Simon gazed out the building windows at the beautiful day outside. Envious of his detectives who were out of the office today. He remembered when he had been a homicide detective long ago, before he’d been promoted to Captain. As far a he was concerned, that was the life. Solving cases, getting the bad-guys. Not sitting at a desk all day smoothing things over with the Chief. Simon thought about his son again, and the reason he’d taken the more or less "desk" job. He didn’t want his son to grow up without a father. His ex-wife had told him that their son didn’t deserve to have his father in the morgue. Simon had whole-heartedly agreed. Yet he still felt the urge to get out there and make a difference. His teenage son on the other hand was the most important thing in his life. He just hoped that everything would go well so he could see his son Friday. This weekend it would probably rain, or worse it could snow. It wasn’t that Simon was a pessimist, at least he didn’t see it that way. He had always seen himself as a realist. Why get yourself excited over nothing? Either way, they would have a good time.
Catching himself daydreaming he remembered the budget he needed to work on for the year. Ahhh, the good old budget report. Does life get any better than this? Sarcasm invading his thoughts. Maybe I need a vacation. The interoffice phone rang. "Yes Rhonda."
"Captain, your ex is on line four. Would you like for me to tell her you’re out of the office today?"
Note to self... See that Rhonda gets a raise. "Oh that’s OK, I’ll take the call." Am I a glutton for punishment or what? He switched lines. "What is it this time?" not taking the time for pleasantries.
"So are you going to actually show up this weekend, or are you going to break Daryl’s heart all over again?" her question cutting like a knife.
"Yes I’m going to show up this weekend." I can’t believe the nerve of this woman. Wait, yes I can. I did divorce her. "Look, if you called just to give me shit, then I don’t want to hear it."
"You know that’s not why I call, Simon." her tone softening. "What should I tell him?"
"Tell him that I’m picking him up Friday afternoon from school."
"Ok sure. Talk to you later."
"Ok, bye." Bitch bitch bitch...damn, that’s all she ever does. Simon began to wonder how his son stood it. Again the interoffice phone rang. "What?" he snapped, immediately regretting the tone of voice. "Oh, sorry Rhonda."
"Sir, while you were on the phone a call came in from dispatch. Sounds like there were shots fired at the Gordon residence."
"WHAT?"
"Nobody was hurt though."
"Ok, thanks Rhonda." Jesus, now what have they gotten into? He dialed the number of Jim’s cell phone.
"Ellison"
"What the hell happened out there?"
"We’ll explain it when we come in, we’re on our way. Ok sir?"
"She shot at you?" The Captain asked in disbelief, looking over the report from the afternoons fiasco.
"Well not me sir, Sandburg."
He knew the woman was a little off. Poisoning her husband was one thing, but to take a shot at an unarmed man? "How do you two manage it? No matter how small the task, the two of you always end up being shot at, drugged, kidnapped. The list goes on gentlemen." He closed the folder and laid it on the desk in front of him feeling the beginnings of a royal headache.
Blair looked thoughtful for a moment. "I’ve got it narrowed down Captain. Either we’re adrenaline junkies, or we have the worst luck in the world."
"Or the best luck Sandburg. How many times have you two cheated death?" He asked, not really wanting to know. That kind of information did a real number on his stress level.
"I stopped counting long ago sir."
"Well keep up the good work. I’m glad to see you weren’t hurt. Why don’t you go on home." he paused. "Look, he’s sure out of it." pointing at the kid.
"What?" Jim asked, not quite understanding the cryptic statement.
The Captain demonstrated what he had meant. "Hey Sandburg, I’m six months pregnant." he stated with a barely contained laugh. No response from the kid...not even a blink.
"Sir, do you always torment young observers?" Ellison asked jokingly.
"Isn’t it in the job description?" Banks asked, deadpan expression plastered on his face.
"That’s what I thought. Thanks Simon." Laying a hand on Blair’s shoulder, "Hey partner, you ready to go?"
"Huh? Oh yeah." Blair snapped back to the present.
"You didn’t hear a word did you?" Jim asked, pushing the younger man out the door closing behind them.
"Sure I did." Sandburg replied.
Watching them leave for the day, Simon let out a quiet laugh. What would I do without them? They’re my comic relief. He looked at the constant stack of paperwork on the corner of his desk and sighed. Checking his watch, he decided the work could wait for tomorrow. Besides, he needed to get home and prepare to have his son over. He grabbed his coat and briefcase just before turning off his office lights. He made his way to the garage and climbed into his car. Maybe I can score some Jags tickets for tomorrow’s game. Daryl would like that. Twenty minutes later he had parked his car and was already in the kitchen making dinner, mentally checking off the things he still needed to do. Change the sheets, check. Get groceries, check. Vacuum, ugh. The phone rang disturbing his concentration. Get the phone, check. "Hello."
"Hey dad."
"Hi Daryl. What’s going on son?"
"Nothing, I was just excited to see you tomorrow."
"I’m looking forward to seeing you too." Simon paused, "I was thinking, how would you like to go to a Jags game?"
"Really?" Daryl’s voice jumping with excitement.
"Yeah, I have a friend who can get us tickets."
"Wow that would be awesome. You are so cool dad...I just wish mom could see it."
"Yeah, well even though she and I don’t always get along, we both love you. Remember that."
"I know dad."
Simon heard his ex-wife’s voice in the background calling their son to dinner. "Dinner’s ready dad, I gotta go. Love you!"
"See you tomorrow Daryl."
"See ya."
Simon hung up the phone, realizing he had a goofy grin on his face. He was excited to see Daryl. Tomorrow will be a great day. What better way to spend it than with his son? That thought stayed with him for the rest of the night.