Not mine... but they would make a nifty present.  (hint, hint, nudge, nudge)

This story is not only in celebration of the holidays, but of me figuring out how to make transparent GIF's, too!  All by myself!  (Me applauding)  Man, I'm bored...

Anyway, off to be tortured by my elders at my Grandma's...  my wonderful, Sentinel fan Grandma...

December 24, 1999
Christmas Eve

"...And get to work!  Captain Simon Banks yelled as he slammed his office door behind Detectives Rafe and Brown and stomped to his desk and sat down.  He sat, glowering, until another knock came from the door.

"What do you want!"  He bellowed.  There was a hesitant pause.

"Um, Simon?"

"What do you want, Sandburg!"

Blair opened the door and came inside, effectively ignoring the Captain's glare.  "I heard that you aren't having Daryl for Christmas after all and Jim and I were wondering if you'd like to come over to the loft, instead."

"No!"

"Okay, that's cool,"  Blair said calmly, "but if you change your mind, come over at seven.  That's when we're opening presents.  And if you miss that, dinner's at two, okay?  Okay."  And he slipped away.

Simon continued to glower until his shift was over, only breaking to yell at more helpless victims.

Christmas Morning, 7:03 AM

Simon woke up with a growl when the phone by his bed rang.  "What!"  He barked into the receiver.

"Hi, Dad!  Merry Christmas!"  Came the cheerful voice of his teenaged son, Daryl, and with him a brief reprise from his dark mood.

"Oh, hi, Daryl.   Merry Christmas."  Simon smiled for the first time in several days.

"I called the loft, but you weren't there.  Blair said you hadn't shown up yet.  So I just called to say...  Thank you!  Oh, man, this new Sega is just...  Ah!"

"I thought you'd like it."  Simon grinned.  "How's your Grandma's?"

"Oh, I love her and everything, but...  I wish I was at your place, Dad.  I really do."

"So do I, son."

"But don't tell her that.  Or Mom."

"Your secret's safe with me."

"Oh, Dad, hold on a minute,"  Daryl told the elder Banks and there was a pause.  "Dad, Mom's calling me, I've got to go.  But I'll see you Monday, okay?"

"Okay, son, I love you."

There was another pause while Daryl tried to decide whether the risk to his coolness was worth responding to that, then his decision was made.  "I love you, too, Dad.  Now, go to Jim and Blair's!"

Simon actually chuckled at that.

He raised his hand to knock on the door when it swung open, revealing Detective Jim Ellison's smiling face.  "You know, I hate it when you do that."  He grumbled without any real force.

"Don't worry, it's on my list of New Year's resolutions."  Jim told him as he waved his him inside, taking the presents out of his hands and setting them under the tree.  He stood just inside the doorway and there Simon grinned when he saw Blair, with a look of intense concentration, gently shaking the present held up to his ear.

"Oh, hey, Simon.  Jim, this isn't breakable, is it?  Jim?  Jim?"

The other men both laughed.  "I thought you were going to open presents at seven."  Simon added absently.

"Well, we were, but Blair insisted we wait until you got here."

"But I wasn't even going to come."

"Well, I knew that, and that's why I called reinforcements."  Blair leaned back.

"Daryl?"

"Got it."  The anthropologist sang back.  "Now, come on!  Sit down!"

"Well, I don't know,"  Simon tortured deliberately, "it's kind of a tradition at my house to eat first, before opening the presents."

Blair groaned, jumped up, and disappeared into the kitchen.  A minute later, he came back out and handed the older man a bagel.  "Now, sit!"  He ordered.

Blair played Santa, handing out the presents.  Simon was pleased, even vocally, about the gold plated cigar cutter Sandburg had given him, even with the 'now, don't think I'm supporting your smoking habit or anything' lecture.  Jim gave him his own mini- lecture after giving him a cigar humidifier.

He laughed at the footsie pajama's Jim gave his partner (and even harder when Blair went and put them on), then at the giant, life-sized, stuffed toy black panther Blair gave in return.  Jim set it by the doorway.

Now, Jim was picking up the remains of the wrapping paper while he and he and the long haired, pajama clad man watched.  "I'm glad you came, Captain."  Blair said earnestly.

"I'm glad you invited me, and made Daryl get me to come."  Simon admitted in turn, "now, didn't you say something about food?"

"You know you're developing a real food obsession?  I gave you a bagel, didn't I?"

"Yeah, but I wasn't hungry, then."

Blair sighed and shook his head sadly.  "Any excuse to torture the Sandburg, any excuse."