Not What It Seems
Blurb: blair, simon's office, and major crimes.
Thanks to Llasairfhiona for the quick read through.
Jim once told me that he'd kick my ass if I ever got a tattoo. Good thing I never told him I already had one. It's small-ish, round, and a single color. Right below the base of my neck. About the C3 vertebrae. No one can see it unless I move my hair out of the way. Even when it's pulled back the tattoo is hidden from sight. Which of course, was not the reason for having it there. It was just the perfect place for it. Always thought it added to the meaning. And, I've never regretted getting it either. Even now that I'm a cop.
It had a lot of meaning to me when I got it. But I think it means so much more now. That all being said, Jim is going to flip in about five seconds...four...three...
I shake my head, as I move from Jim's desk to Simon's office. My prediction was right, maybe a second off. But the door never opened and the blinds are still drawn, bet they stay that way.
"What did you do now hairboy?" Brown asks as I pass by his desk.
"Who knows." I shrug.
Once in Simon's office I can clearly see my new personnel file sitting on his desk. Or part of it at least, as the other half is in Jim's hand.
"You know," I say, "that's supposed to be private. Unit captains, IA, all that." See, I was paying attention at the academy and with all the paperwork I had to fill out. Especially the area that asked for identifying marks and characteristics.
Jim just glares at me. It's glare number seven, the one that I've deemed I'm your partner, I know what's best for you. I'll see your glare, big guy, and raise you a cheeky grin.
"Does this mean I can nosey through your files?" I ask. Getting the answer I expected--no--and in stereo no less as both Jim and Simon answer. Though, I'm willing to bet that Jim knows I've seen his file. Helps to be friendly with the girls down in records. And that Simon hasn't got a clue and Jim won't be telling him.
Simon clears his throat. "Sandburg," he begins. "Sgt Riley was very impressed with how you handled yourself in the during the warehouse test. I'm impressed with your marksmen scores. Sgt. Carston was hopeful that you might agree to talk to new recruits about your experiences and how to handle, and I quote, reading people to better understand how to handle them." Simon put the file down on his desk, reached over and yanked the pages from Jim's grasped and then closed the file. "Welcome to Major Crimes, Detective."
Simon stood, grabbed his coffee cup and moved to exit his own office. "Now, if you'll excuse me, you and your partner can yell at each other."
I snickered. I couldn't help myself. At least I got a "thank you, Captain" out before the snickering got too bad. And, the use of "captain" just made Simon shake his head as he reached the safety of the bullpen.
To everyone's surprise, there was no actual yelling. Jim was quiet for a moment before he finally asked, "Since when?"
"Ten years, man."
Jim nodded. "You could have told me and here I threatened to kick you down seven flights of stairs. It suits you, Chief."
"That was for anything new," I replied, grinning. "Do you know what it means?"
"It's Celtic," Jim answered, and it shouldn't have surprised me that he knew, but somehow it did. "The tree is the source of wisdom and hope, a link between the worlds to remind us life is a circle." He looked at me then, and he seemed to be more relaxed than he had been in weeks. "Like I said, it suits you."
I realised then that sometimes I'm really dense. He hadn't been worried about the tattoo, but about my review from the Academy. About whether he'd be getting his partner back. Whether someone else would try to steal me from Major Crimes.
"Come on Jim," I say, "it's time to start. Plus, I need to unpack that box sitting on your desk."
"Yeah, onto your own desk, Chief."
"Whatever you say, man."
And we're both smiling when we exit Simon's office.
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