The door to Major Crime opened, held by Detective James Ellison while his partner, Blair Sandburg pushed the wheelchair bearing their captain through the opening. There was a scowl on the captain's face, which softened into a smile as the rest of his team noticed his presence and gathered around to greet and welcome back their leader. Megan brought him a fresh cup of coffee and Brown offered a box of pastries, one of which Simon managed to get before the vultures who worked for him swooped down as well. After several minutes of being welcomed back, he made his way to his office. Joel followed him in, closing the door behind him and moving around the desk to help Simon transfer to his desk chair. Once settled in, with another chair acting as an ottoman to support his cast leg, the captain heaved a sigh of relief.

Looking up at his long-time friend, he grinned, a little ruefully. "I was about to go nuts, Joel."

Joel chuckled, "Too much Sandburg weirdness?" he asked..

"No. Too much hovering and smothering." Glancing through the window, he spotted the pair as they playfully sparred before settling down to work. Shaking his head, he looked up at his friend, "They're worse than my mama ever thought of being. Waited on me hand and foot. Hell, Ellison kept trying to carry me to the bathroom for the first three days."

Joel burst out laughing at the vision, "I bet that was a sight. How about Blair? Did he keep whipping up those weird concoctions of his?"

"Surprisingly, no. From hearing Ellison tell it, the kid constantly makes weird stuff. Although, come to think of it, Jim seems to think that anything not including fried red meat is strange." Both men laughed at that. "It was a lot of nice, healthy stuff. The kind of diet I've been trying to live with; for the high blood pressure, you know?"

"Oh, yeah. Lots of vegetables, light on the red meat. More chicken and fish. Cut out the fat. I know all about it. Remember, I've managed to lose nearly a hundred pounds. I haven't felt this good in years," Joel replied. "So, why did you look like you wanted to hit someone when you came in?"

"Oh, that. We came in Sandburg's car. Have you ever tried to maneuver a full-leg cast in and out of a two-door car? The back seat, no less? I thought they were trying to kill me," Simon groused.

"So, why didn't you use Jim's truck?" Joel asked, puzzled.

"Are you kidding? The only way I'd fit in the truck is if they laid me out in the back. No way am I going to be bounced around in the bed of Jim's pickup with him driving," Simon snorted in horrified amusement.

"OK, so what about your car? I know you can't drive with your leg in a cast, but surely... never mind. I just heard what I said. Forget it. Do you want me to pick you up and take you home until you get the cast off? I'd be more than happy to do that. And I have that nice, big four-door sedan..."

"Bless you, Joel. I'll take you up on that. So, what's been happening around here since I've been gone?"

"Well, we had to turn Short over to the Feds, of course. But not before he sang the prettiest little song about who, what, where, when, why, and how. It would appear that a number of other crimes can be laid at the feet of the Washington Freedom Fighters. Gun running, drugs, and hate crimes. More than two dozen in all. The round up went off well. Good thing Jim was back, though. Saved us from getting killed or badly injured. Seems one of the buildings Short told us about was nothing but a big booby trap. One we failed to fall into, thanks to Jim. The Feds sure wanted to know how he knew. When Jim asked them if they couldn't smell the C4, I nearly busted a gut, laughing. Other than that, I think we got everyone. Even Schofield. She was a real tigress. Kicking, biting and scratching all the way. Drove the poor Feds nuts trying to keep her restrained. They're adding our local charges to the Federal charges, since some of them are federal crimes in their own right. I rather doubt we'll see Schofield, Short, or any other members of the WFF any time soon."

"Thank God for that," Simon agreed. A loud crash from the bullpen drew their attention. The members of Major Crime were set in a tableau, staring at an overturned chair, a sprawled Detective Sandburg (who appeared to be laughing hysterically) and an equally hysterical Detective Ellison. Joel and Simon exchanged puzzled looks and Joel moved to open the door to find out just what on earth was going on.

"All right! What is going on here?" Joel bellowed in a fair imitation of Simon Banks' classic roar. All eyes turned from Ellison and Sandburg to the office, where Simon was peering around Joel's bulk to see what was happening.

Jim reached down and pulled his partner up off of the floor. Still giggling, Blair was unable to answer and nudged Jim, making motions for him to tell. Jim, also still laughing uncontrollably, tried.

"N-n-nothing, Sir. J-just Sandburg tripping over his own feet, is all." Both men were laughing so hard that tears were running down their faces.

"I ~gasp~ did not trip. That chair attacked me!" Blair managed to say through his hilarity.

"Looks to me as though the chair lost," Rafe said, starting to chuckle, himself.

"No, no," Brown laughed. "I saw it all. The chair leaped from behind the desk and tangled up with Sandburg's feet. Blair did a great martial arts move and knocked the chair out cold."

Megan was giggling as well, "Blair managed to almost subdue the chair when it attempted to escape, only to bounce off of Jim, at which time the poor, innocent 'irresistible force' collapsed in an unconscious heap on the floor."

Joel looked back at Simon, who had started grinning, then turned back to the laughing detectives, shaking his head. Never a dull moment in Major Crime... "So, is anybody hurt? Besides the unconscious chair, that is?" He felt the smile tugging at his own lips.

"Well, actually, sir," Rafe replied, getting his laughter under control, "I think the chair may have a mortal wound. It looks like one of the wheels has come off." At this news, the rest of them started laughing even harder and Jim had to put an arm across Blair's shoulders to remain upright. Blair was leaning heavily against Jim's desk while the other detectives continued to laugh.

There was a dry chuckle coming from behind him. Turning, he watched in amusement as Simon started laughing, not so much because there was anything actually funny; but simply because the laughter of the others was so contagious. Joel couldn't help but grin as well as the laughter lifted everyone's spirits.

"All right, you guys." Joel finally raised his voice over the jocularity, "Try and get yourselves under control. Jim, get that broken chair out of here. Rafe, find him a new one. Sandburg, chill out, OK? The rest of you get back to work, will you? You're starting to draw a crowd." The detectives all turned to look at the various uniformed officers who had paused outside, all staring through the glass walls at them. For a moment, they all laughed even harder, then did their best to control themselves, eventually succeeding. Shaking his head, he turned back into Simon's office. "So, have they been like that for the past two weeks, trying to take care of you?" he asked.

"Sometimes," Simon admitted. "When they weren't trying to stuff me full of food or something to drink, or asking me if I was comfortable, or did I want anything, or could they get me anything, was I sure... nearly drove me nuts. I never pictured Ellison as a mother hen, but when he's taking care of someone, he really takes care of them. There were several times I was ready to shoot one of them. And Sandburg! Constantly fluffing my pillows, cooking something and bringing me samples... although, the day they decided to bake cookies..."

"Wait a minute. They baked cookies for you! You've got to be kidding." Joel's expression of disbelief was priceless.

"Really. Toll House, with both pecans and walnuts. They were delicious." Simon smiled happily as he remembered.

"So, which one made the cookies, Jim or Blair?" Joel asked cautiously, his picture of his friends undergoing a tremendous upheaval at this revelation.

"Both of them. They argued and ended up in a shoving match which descended into, well, a food fight." Simon's voice trailed off in embarrassment.

"A food fight?" Joel asked, chuckling. "And I suppose you stayed out of it?" His tone was disbelieving.

"Well... I tried to, but when the cookie dough started landing on me, I had to retaliate." His grin widened.

"Are you saying that the austere, stern, fractious Simon Banks joined two of his subordinates in a food fight? While he was supposed to be recovering?"

"No. It was Simon Banks, friend of Jim and Blair, who was staying with them to avoid a prolonged hospital stay, who wavered between wanting to shoot one or the other or both of them, with laughing and kidding around. You should have been there for the towel fight the night before last." Simon abruptly shut his mouth, fearing he might have gone too far.

"Now, that I'd have liked to see," Joel admitted.

"Well, I admit that with this cast I had a decided advantage. Having that much area unavailable as a target, and able to use it as a shield." Simon laughed at Joel's expression. "OK, OK, so the stay at the loft wasn't all that bad. Daryl managed to come over several times, and they took good care of me. It was just getting jammed into Blair's back seat that put me in a bad mood this morning, I guess," Simon confessed.

"I'm glad. We missed you around here. I mean, Sandburg was in every day, but Jim's still on light duty and has only been back for a week. The others missed your bellowing, I think. I tried to fill in, but they know that my bite is so much less than my bark that they were disappointed. Of course, it's been pretty quiet. After rounding up all the WFF, it seems as if all the criminals in town decided to take a vacation. Not that any of us minded, of course."

"Well, it's good to be back," Simon concurred. At that moment, his telephone rang. Waving to Joel that he could go back to his own desk, he picked up his phone. "Banks," he nearly barked into the speaker. He listened for a few seconds and made a few monosyllabic responses. After he hung up, he looked up at Joel, who was hovering to see if anything was needed.

"Open the door, Joel," Simon said softly. The big man opened the door on his way out, not in the least surprised to hear the bellow from behind him.

"Sandburg and Ellison! My office, now!"

Simon Banks was back and, even with his leg in a cast, firmly and fully in control.

Stay tuned next week when a new drug ring and an attack on one of their own brings back haunting memories for the crew at Major Crime in "Golden Echoes" an all new The Sentinel.

Produced by:

Wow. It's been a couple of weeks since I wrote anything. I guess I didn't have anything to say. Hmmmm. Anyway, I guess it's time to do something, so, let's see.... Well, while we're waiting for my muses to shake the cobwebs off, (NO! Dark and Gloomy! You are *not* permitted to kill the spider. I don't care. Unless it's a black widow or a brown recluse, you are not to harm it. Remember Robert the Bruce? Oh.). Ahem. Excuse me. I have my story idea.