A/N: Simon is based on a dream I had.

It was love at first sight, Briala was sure of it.

She first saw him sitting on a park bench, playing his guitar with the case next to his feet. His voice was raised in soft song. She walked slowly past him, staring out of the corner of her eye. Once past him she darted behind a tree and peeked back at him. She suppressed a sigh. He was not like most boys. He had gorgeous blonde hair cut in layers that stuck out at odd angles with the assist of Garnier Fructis hair wax. His big hands traveled lovingly over the body of the guitar. He was wearing green pants, pink converse sneakers, and a purple t-shirt. This was a combination that Briala found interesting, however not altogether attractive, but it suited him. She stood behind the tree and watched him sit and play his guitar and sing in that soft, melodious voice for a long time. All the way until he started to pack up his guitar to leave. She took a deep breath and started to walk slowly towards him, conveniently tripping over his guitar case and sprawling carefully across the sidewalk. The boy turned and looked at her.

"Oh…uh- sorry!" he sputtered, trying to help her up around his guitar. He was clumsy. Briala found that funny and giggled. Her giggle made his face flush crimson. When she was, once again, back on her feet, she took a step closer. He shifted awkwardly.

"Uh…" he shrugged, "Every now and again. Thursday afternoons…." he trailed off.

"I'm Briala." She said, offering her hand.

"Err-- Simon." he said, shaking briefly. He shifted again. "Um-- I'd better go. I need to go- home." He turned and walked away, head lowered to hide his blush, which covered his neck and ears as well as his face. Briala squealed with delight and ran in the opposite direction.

Simon stepped inside his apartment out of the rain and instantly reached for the towel hung on the coat rack and began wiping down the black leather of the case he held in his hand. He seemed not to notice the water running off his own face, hair, and body.

"Simon!" came the voice of his roommate from the next room. Simon threw the towel in the corner and walked into the kitchen. He slapped Eon across the hair. Taken by surprise, the black haired Eon dropped the milk jug he had been drinking from. Milk splashed down Simon's purple t-shirt.

"How many times do I have to tell you not to do that?" Simon sighed, disgusted by Eon's habit of drinking milk without a glass. He set his guitar on the kitchen table.

"You're all wet." Eon said.

"It's raining outside and I got caught up with another girl tonight." Simon removed his milk covered t-shirt and rolled it into a ball.

"You get all the luck." Eon sighed, pulling seven or eight paper towels off the roll and using them to clean the milk off the floor.

"You call this luck!" Simon gasped, unbelieving. He shook his head, spraying water from his hair about the room. Eon wiped it off the floor with the remaining towels.

"Yes, I call it luck!" He said, emphatically, "You've got girls falling all over themselves to get at you!"

"And I can't stand it!"

"Sure thing. Whine all you want to. Just be sure to count your blessings later." Eon rolled his eyes and threw the wad of towels into the trash can.

"Can you honestly say that you would rather be in my shoes?" Simon asked from his place at the table.

"Yep."

"Oh, that's right," Simon rose from the chair, "there's something wrong with you. I knew this!" He stalked across the room to the sink. There was a moment of silence as Eon rinsed the empty milk jug and recapped it.

"So…this girl today-- was she hott?" Eon grinned slyly at his friend. Simon threw his arms into the air and chucked his rolled up t-shirt at Eon's head.

"I don't know! I didn't really look at her! Why would I, it's some random girl in the park! I don't even know her!" Simon's hand met the table with a force that sent an echo through the kitchen. Eon picked up Simon's t-shirt off the floor and threw it in the sink. He looked at his friend, sitting alone in the corner, wearing just a wet beater that clung to his slight form. How Eon wished for Simon's good looks. Simon didn't appreciate them enough. Simon stood and exited the kitchen onto the balcony. Eon followed him into the rain.

"Will I ever find her, Eon?" Simon whispered, thin fingers gripping the rail and the torrential rain making streams down his muscular arms. "Will I ever find just the right girl for me? I could have my pick of any girl I want but I don't want any of them. I only want that one girl who is just right for me. But I don't even know where to start looking. And girls scare me so."

"You'll find her, Simon, don't worry. You'll get that girl of your dreams." Eon put a hand on Simon's cold shoulder. He felt his muscles wince and jump under the touch. "Don't worry about such things, Si. You worry too much for your own good. Just go inside out of the rain and take a hot shower or something. You'll feel better." He gave Simon one of his own winning smiles and his friend softened a bit. He turned and looked at Eon who noticed a deep sadness behind Simon's eyes. "I'm always here for you, Si." Eon said, thumping Simon's shoulder.

"Thanks." He replied.

Eon was right. A hot shower helped a lot. It cleared his thoughts, though they were there waiting for him when he finished. Somehow, they seemed less important. He took each concern into his hands one by one and gently rolled it around and around between his fingers before setting it aside and taking up the next one. He listened to Eon's singing in the shower and was glad he had a good friend in him. Eventually Simon began to wander about the apartment, collecting laundry in a basket. It was his turn. Doing laundry was like a scavenger hunt each week. Clothes were carelessly strewn around the apartment, stuck everywhere except for the laundry hamper. Simon was very good at hunting down dirty clothes by this time. He wondered just how Eon and himself could generate so much laundry. He pulled three t-shirts- two of Eon's and one of his own- out of the couch cushions. Several pairs of pink underwear and socks were strewn across the floor in Eon's room. When they had moved into the place, Eon had never done laundry before. He had washed a mixed load of darks and lights in warm water. Simon's red, Rolling Stones t-shirt had bled all over everything. For the next months, the two were forced to wear pink boxer shorts, pink socks, and pink beaters. Anything white had been turned the color of an Easter egg. Several pairs of Simon's socks were still pink from that disaster. Eon admitted that he had never really liked the Stones.

Simon smiled to himself as he remembered this and removed a beater and a pair of socks from his own bedroom floor. He heard Eon going through the cupboards in the kitchen as he left the apartment and made for the laundry room in the basement. His luck was good. There were three open machines. He loaded up two of them, comforted by the whirring and sloshing of washers and driers, the smells of musty basement and soap, and the familiarity of the room. Footsteps came down the stairs and Eon, wearing only a pair of green plaid boxers flung himself, breathless into the room.

"Here! You forgot this!" He panted, throwing Simon's wet, purple, milk spattered t-shirt into the washer containing beaters and socks. Simon patiently switched it into the one holding darks. "It was in the sink."

"Forgot you put it there." Simon muttered. "For goodness sake, you couldn't have been bothered to put on something decent before you came down?"

"No one else is down here." Eon shrugged and shook his black hair, still wet from the shower.

"Not now." Simon said, "but there could have been. " Eon shrugged again. Simon took hold of the laundry baskets and began to ascend the stairs.

"Why did we want the fifth floor apartment again?" Eon asked.

"A room with a view." Simon winked at his friend. Light footsteps were coming down toward them and as they rounded the corner by Angelo's third floor flat, they came face to face with a girl, carrying her own basket of laundry. Surprised by their presence, she shrieked and dropped the basket. Eon and the girl both blushed bright red and Eon darted past her up the stairs. Simon set aside his empty baskets and began to help the girl pick up her laundry. "Sorry." He told her. "He normally doesn't leave the flat like that but I'd forgotten something and he brought it to me."

"You startled me, that's all. I've just moved in and I don't know anyone yet." She had straight blonde hair that framed her face just so and her sky colored eyes were enhanced by dark kohl and bright lipstick. She dressed fashionably and smart in grey suit pants and pale blue jacket. There was a yellow ribbon in her hair and yellow stiletto heels on her feet. She looked like springtime. Simon blushed deeply but he was not quite sure why. He was not quite sure of anything. He carried her laundry down to the basement and stood with her for an awkward moment before dropping the basket and running straight back upstairs to his apartment. He was all the way back to his room before realizing that he had forgotten the laundry baskets on the third floor landing. He groaned.

"Eon," he called to his friend.

"Mmm?" he said through a mouth full of cookies. Simon noticed that he was now wearing a pair of flannel pants and a beater.

"Would you please go back to third floor landing and get the baskets?"

"Why can't you do it?"

"Because that girl might be down there."

"Which is exactly why I should not go down there."

"Eon, please!" Simon begged, "You're good with girls!"

"So are you." Eon leaned against the wall.

"Just because I attract them doesn't mean I'm good with them.

"Simon, I'm never planning on leaving this apartment again. Wha-" there was a knock on the door. Simon stepped back. The knock came again.