Standard Disclaimer: The boyz aren't mine. Wish they were. I'm just borrowing them and I'll return them when I'm done. NO WATER INVOLVED!!!

Notes: More Moosebashing. (Nasty things those moosebashes.) Gotta get some shots or something... More silliness. Any and all commentary can be sent to: wnnepooh@erols.com

JINX

by Wnnepooh

"Hey, Simon!" Blair said as he watched the captain head for his office. "How was your vacation?" He watched the large, black man shake his head and continue towards the opposite side of the bullpen. The only sign the kid had that Simon had heard him was a low moan.

"Leave it be, Chief."

Hearing his partner's baritone voice, Sandburg twisted around and questioned Ellison on their friend's mood.

"I got the skinny on the ride from the airport last night..." Jim shook his own head in sympathy and explained the events of Simon's 'vacation.'

Jim had gotten the call from the airport, that much Blair knew. Simon's travel plans had gotten screwed around and a red-eye flight was the only thing available that could get him back to Cascade in time for his 10 AM meeting with the Mayor. Rather than let Simon and Daryl catch a cab, Jim had volunteered to meet their flight when it arrived at 3:30 AM Washington state time. As Daryl had fallen asleep, his head on his father's shoulder, Jim had listened to the tale of a long, hard trip for the Banks men.

Simon had jumped at the chance to attend a National Police Adminstrators Seminar. He'd been chosen to attend because of Major Crimes' outstanding record and had thought that a trip to DisneyWorld would make up - even belatedly - to Daryl for the infamous Peru trip and the Drug Conference. Their flight to Florida had been uneventful, enjoyable for them even. The room at the Grand Floridian, astounding! After unpacking, Simon and Daryl had gone exploring, taking the ferry across the 'lake' to the Magic Kindom. They weren't there more than an hour when they'd encountered a lost child. The older Banks had noted the Emergency Aid Station and decided to deposit the child there. But when Daryl turned pleading eyes to his father, the man knew he'd volunteer to help find the kid's parents. One hour later, Simon and Daryl were present for a very happy reunion. The parents had tried to offer the Banks men a reward, but Simon merely said it was his pleasure, then headed himself and his son off to the big NPA dinner.

After attending several morning seminars, Simon had met Daryl for lunch. As they sat swapping stories and having normal conversation, a man at a neighboring table began to choke. Without hesitation, Simon took command and performed a perfect Heimlich maneuver, forcefully dislodging the piece of stuck food. Once again, Simon refused any more than a thank-you, then had to hurriedly finish his lunch in order to make his afternoon meetings.

That night, after an uneventful dinner in their suite, Daryl dragged his father to one of the nightly fireworks displays. All had gone well, until Simon had noticed a man weaving around the sky-gazing crowd. His spider-senses tingling, the captain observed the man a few more minutes only to witness the man pick-pocketing an elderly couple. Shaking his head, Simon had walked up behind the man and restrained the man's hands with his camera strap. By the time the paperwork was finished, it was well past park closing, so security had taken Simon and Daryl back to their hotel.

At the Sunday morning breakfast meeting, Simon had to help perform CPR on a man a table away who'd gone into cardiac arrest and collapsed. When the Disney Security personnel called him by his first name, a couple people asked about it. Not wanting to make a scene or cause a fuss, Banks had walked away with a smile and shake of his head. Unfortunately, a couple of the emergency staff went into great detail about the captain's exploits.

The last couple lectures finished that afternoon and Simon looked forward to spending that night and the next two days bonding with his growing-too-fast son.

It just wasn't to be.

At the NPA closing dinner, Simon and Daryl were presented with a special award for all their good deeds. Several local news stations had crews attending in hopes of getting interviews with the Banks men. In addition, Simon had been contacted by WDW's internal news just after the dinner.

Giving in to his son's animated and convincing pleas, Simon had covered everything with a brief "press conference" from the hotel lobby on Monday morning. It was the only way to salvage the rest of their trip. Everyone satisfied, the Banks men had happily headed out to the parks. Simon figured that he could relax and share some down time with his son. It had to be less hectic than the previous days, didn't it?

Not really. With only two days, Daryl had mapped out a plan - but forgotten to tell his father. The captain wanted to see the sights and soak up the sunshine. What he'd gotten was sore feet from being dragged all over, indigestion from all the food and treats and goodies they'd sampled, and writer's cramp from signing all the credit card slips... Every time Simon turned around he saw something he HAD to have. Most of his purchases had been sent directly back to his hotel room, but small things seemed to disappear as soon as he handed them off to Daryl. As the last of the pressed pennies were handed off to his son, the older man watched as they were deposited into a large leather backpack - a very familiar backpack. Questioning his son, Simon confirmed that the pack had been present at every incident.

"So?" Blair questioned. "So I loaned Daryl my pack. What of it, man?"

Jim sat on the edge of his partner's desk and leaned close. "Chief," he started with half a smile. "Isn't it the same backpack you had with you in the elevator? The same one you carry everywhere - like when we went after Simon in Peru? When you got shot in the leg? When you met Maya and nearly got your head severed? And when Maya returned? How many times HAVE you been taken hostage?" If he had thought about the idea any longer, the detective might have gotten depressed over the amount of trouble he and his partner seemed to attract. As it was, he'd listened to his captain, his friend, and had actually begun to believe the idea - at least it made sense at 3:30 that morning. "I think it's pretty clear."

"You think my PACK is cursed?" Sandburg laughed, thoughts of urban legends running through his mind.

"No, Sandburg." Simon said calmly, gaining the partners' attention. "I think YOU'RE cursed." It was his smile that eventually let the kid know there was no harm done. But the captain had to needle his friend a little more. Small recourse for the events of the previous weekend. "I ran through all the incidents and that pack was there every time."

"So why do you think I'M cursed if you can link it all to my pack?"

"Cause in all the time I've known you, you don't always have the thing with you when you get in trouble..." Even before he'd finished the statement, Simon was laughing. "But just to show you there are no hard feelings - here."

Blair looked up at the proffered bag. The decoration screamed Disney and he knew his eyes were wide with anticipation. He reached in and pulled out something soft - clothing soft. The t-shirt was quickly unfolded and held up for examination, gaining MUCH attention and many giggles. He didn't think the black shirt was THAT amusing. Sure Mickey was standing there staring at a broken cable and a pair of open doors... and there was an old-fashioned dial at the top. Looking towards the bottom of the shirt, the anthropologist smirked. It was from the Twilight Zone Tower of Terror - the "Broken Elevator" ride. He draped the shirt over his arm and said a tongue-in-cheek Thank You for the "priceless gift."

"Oh, don't thank me yet, Blair." and Simon motioned for his young friend to turn the shirt around. Jim had already started laughing. Simon had joined in, and most of the rest of Major Crimes was just hanging on till their Field Specialist read the words out loud.

"I suggest you take the stairs." To Blair's dismay, the joke didn't register until AFTER he'd given voice to it. Once it did, though, he was red from his toes to his hair folicles. "Awwwww Maaaaannn! That is like SO not funny."

"Sure it is, Sandburg. What do you think, Jim?"

"I think, " and Jim tried unsuccessfully to stifle his chuckle "I think it's just funny enough."

"Maaaaaaaannnnnn...."

~Finis~