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Everybody reckons it's inevitable. That is, of course, if they don't reckon we haven't already. I suppose it looks odd. Suspicious even. Two guys working together, living together, spending almost every waking moment with each other. One of 'em tall, butch, definitely a control-freak and practically a poster boy for gay America; the other small, long-haired, wears colourful clothing and jewellery, frequently gets in touch with his 'inner self'.
Oh, yeah, I don't need Sentinel hearing to hear the whispers. Or Sentinel sight to see the looks. They either think we're going at it like rabbits or that we're in denial and will one day break down and announce our true love to each other and the world.
So why not? Why not go for it? After all, it's not as if either of us are exactly in virgin territory here. One night, after a couple of beers too many, we played a game of 'kiss and tell'. Except we didn't kiss. But we certainly told. Oh, did we tell!
And the next morning we suffered mammoth hangovers and grinned sheepishly at each other. It didn't change our relationship in the slightest. Sentinel and Guide, Guide and Sentinel. When it comes down to it, that's all that matters, doesn't it? And yet... Why not? We asked each other the question and couldn't think of a single reason why we shouldn't. It wasn't as if it would change our relationship for the worse, I think that both of us realised that. So, we decided to go for it.
Except things are never that simple.
Monday: Shoot-out down by the docks. Brief visit to Cascade General to have wooden splinters removed (ouch). Got back to the loft at 11.00pm. Did not want to do anything except sleep. On my front.
Tuesday: In court. Then paperwork. Visit to the shooting range/seminar at Rainier. More paperwork. Painful butt. Got involved in a breakout attempt as we were leaving the courthouse. One knife graze (not me), one black eye (also not me), one pulled shoulder and mild concussion (me). Three hours at Cascade General. Nurses all know us by name. Went back to the loft. Showered. Looked at each other. This was it. Both got into bed. Fell asleep.
Wednesday: Got up. Exchanged sheepish grins. Showered. Ate breakfast. Went to the station. Paperwork, paperwork, paperwork. Interviewed suspect/attended tutorial. Lunched with ex-wife/comforted a distraught student. Paperwork. Tried to ignore aches and pains. Got home relatively early. Ate, showered. Exchanged long glances. This was it. Phone rang. Simon. Duty calls. Got back after midnight. Fell into bed together. Two minute later we were dead to the world.
Thursday: More sheepish grins. Made a vow: tonight the night. Went after some gunrunners. Shot at. Fell through a skylight (not me), fell down some stairs (me). Cascade General. Ho hum. Got back to the loft. Ten minute later, Simon comes round. Stays three hours. Make noises about beauty sleep. Simon smirks knowingly. Subdue violent thoughts. Simon leaves. Lock up. Go to bed. Try to cuddle, but ache too much. Try to lie still for what seems like hours. Finally fall asleep.
Friday: Don't even bother with sheepish grin. Go to the station. Get involved with an undercover operation. Don't see each other until...
...Saturday: Much, much too tired to do anything but sleep, on the couch. Both of us.
Sunday: Simon comes round. Way too early. Looks at our state of undress. Looks at the couch. Raises eyebrow. Smirks. Sniggers knowingly. Makes not-so-veiled comments. Gets growled at. Leaves. And we look at each other and start to laugh. Hug each other. Settle down on the couch. Decide that this is ridiculous and we might as well give up. Who cares what everybody thinks? What do we have to prove? We know we love each other. We don't even have to say it. And we show it every day. We don't need anything else. Guide and Sentinel. Sentinel and Guide. Sex has got nothing to do with it. We just ARE. It's more than enough.
Monday: Couldn't stop grinning at each other. Not sure why. Wasn't as if we actually DID anything. Spent the night in separate beds. Overslept. Both of us. Rushed around getting ready and arrived at the station nearly an hour late. Still grinning. People stopped talking when they saw us. Then started talking again, louder than before. In corners. In huddles. Arguing, debating. Both of us retired to the mensroom to compare notes. Despite Simon's assertion that we were an established couple, the majority of the guys in Major Crimes reckoned we had 'done it' last night. Money changed hands. Lots of money. It was hysterical. We looked at each other and cracked up. Had to hold on to each other just to keep upright...just as Brown walked through the door. Which cracked us up even further. Later, Simon yelled for the both of us to get into his office at once. He shut the door. Stared at us for a while. Then demanded if we really HAD slept together for the first time last night. So we acted all outraged. But we couldn't stop grinning. Finally I said, hand on heart, that no, we hadn't slept together for the first time last night. Every word was the truth. Simon looked vindicated and stormed off. Presumably to try to reclaim some of his money.
Tuesday: Stakeout. Shoot-out. Same old same old.
Wednesday: They're still talking. But it's dying down.
Thursday: You know, I've been thinking...
Friday: This week has been quiet. I'm not at all tired tonight. I keep looking at him...and catching him looking at me. He doesn't look tired, either...
The End
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