Disclaimer: The Sentinel, Blair Sandburg, Jim Ellison, Simon Banks, and all other characters are property of Paramount and Pet Fly. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money has exchanged hands.

What's in a Name?

by Leesa Perrie

(Sequel to Just Another RTA)


"Banks," Simon answered his office phone in his normal gruff manner.

"Hey, Simon, it's Blair. I was wondering if some of the guys and you, and Megan of course, if she wants to, that is, want to come over tomorrow night to watch the Jags game, as Jim's feeling better but is getting really frustrated at not being able to do much or get out or anything…"

"Sandburg!" Simon interrupted the avalanche of words.

"Um, yeah?"

"So, Jim's feeling better? That's good. How's he coping?"

"Oh, well, you know, he's in his cranky, grumpy, miserable and very bored stage of convalescence."

"Driving you mad, in other words?" Simon asked, smiling.

"Yeah," Blair replied with a sigh, "so, please can you organise with people to come over tomorrow night?"

"I don't know, Sandburg. You're sure Jim would be up to it? I mean, he's only been home for a week."

"Please, Simon, I'm begging you." Blair's desperate voice came over the line.

"Begging, eh?"


Simon smiled again, an evil glint appearing in his eyes.

"Hmm. So, if I go to all the trouble of arranging this, what will I get in return?"

"Simon," Blair almost whined, almost, "come on, man."

"Well, I've got better things to do than talk to you. Good luck with Jim…"

"No, don't you dare hang up on me!" Blair sighed, "okay, okay, what do you want?"

"Well, my living room is in need of re-painting, and I'm looking for some help…"

Blair sighed.

"Okay, I'll help. Just let me know when."

"I will. See you tomorrow night then."


Simon smiled as he ended the call, and then headed into the bullpen to round up some troops for the following evening.


Henri, Rafe, Simon and Jim were munching on the last of the potato chips, celebrating a win by the Jags, as Blair started to tidy up the kitchen.

"Hey, Jim, how's Sweetheart?" Simon asked suddenly, with a wicked grin.

"Sweetheart? Who's Sweetheart?" Rafe asked.

"Yeah, is there something you should be telling us, Jimbo?" Henri added, with a leer.

"Oops, sorry, Jim." Simon said, not looking even the slightest bit contrite.

"Thanks, Simon," Jim muttered darkly, "I'll get you back for this sometime."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just remember I'm your Captain."

"So, who's Sweetheart?" Rafe asked again.

"His truck," replied Simon with a smirk.

"His truck?!" Henri exclaimed, "you call your truck Sweetheart?"

Rafe and Henri started to laugh, joined by Simon. Blair, meanwhile, was keeping very quiet in the kitchen, hoping that if he didn't draw attention to himself, Simon might keep the name of the Volvo to himself.

He was wrong.

"Yeah," Simon snickered, "but that's not as bad as Sandburg's car. You want to know what he calls that heap of junk?"

"Hey, Simon, is that the time? Shouldn't you guys be going now? I mean, you've got an early start tomorrow, haven't you?" Blair said quickly, in the futile hope of distracting the guys. They ignored him.

"So, what does he call the Volvo?" asked Henri.

Simon told them, and the Loft was filled with laughter again, much to the embarrassment of Jim and Blair.

The End

Author's Note: - You want to know the name of Blair's car? Oh, well, it's…(Blair places hand over Leesa's mouth!) <g>

Comments, criticism, suggestions? Please e-mail Leesa.

Back to Leesa's page.