The case looked fairly cut and dried, the victim lying on the floor with a bullet hole in him and the suspect against the wall, his pistol safely in the custody of the CSIs. But Jim Brass still had witnesses to interview and calmly worked through the room, talking to each one. Currently, he was talking to a middle-aged business man whose attention had been wholly on the attractions of, well…shall we say a professional woman, and consequently had missed the action that led to the shooting. For the hundredth time since entering the bar, Jim felt a tingling on the back of his neck and had the feeling that someone was watching him. Briefly, he scanned the room again, looking for the watcher.
His eyes settled on a young woman, mid twenties…thirty at the most, and as she saw him looking her way, he noticed a definite blush creep up her neck and into her face. Ah ha, he thought, gottcha! He decided she would be his next interview. Finishing with the man, he nodded and backed away, turned and headed towards the young woman, absentmindedly flexing his fingers on his hand. It wasn't that he thought she really had anything to add to the story, but it had been a long time since a pretty young thing had blushed over him and he was curious, a little egotistical and somewhat nervous.
If anything, Jim Brass was a realist. He knew that as his waistline had expanded and his hairline receded his predator days were coming to a close. Lately it seemed the only women attracted to him were over fifty and were having their own issues with aging. Not that there was anything wrong with over fifty, mind you….but his prospects were limited, at best. So he was finding it hard to believe that this pretty thing was truly blushing over him. There had to be more to the story. He'd never been a main attraction to begin with he knew, and he certainly was way down on the billboard these days. There just had to be more to her story.
"I'm Detective Jim Brass, LVPD," he began. She looked at him, her eyes not quite meeting his face as she both smiled and blushed at the same time. I'm….Micha…Hunter," she stammered, her face fully flushed. Jim studied her, a little thrown by her obvious discomfort with him, unsure of the cause. "I, um…have a few questions…about the shooting," he said quietly, trying to remain calm. She can't really be blushing over me…
She nodded, her eyes fixed on the knot in his tie. He noticed that she was having a hard time swallowing. She must not get out much... probably a librarian or something… "Um, did you see what happened here?" Pushing his ego aside, he tried to focus on the job.
"Not all of it," she said so quietly that he had to lean in to hear, setting off more blushes from her. "But…the dead guy…he was trying to start a fight with another man," she paused to look around the room. "That one over there, in the green shirt," she said. "Then the guy with the gun came over and they exchanged words and the guy in the green…he walked away. Then those two," she said indicating the victim and the shooter, "got really angry and then….that man shot the other one." Her color subsided as she got involved with the story and became less focused on Jim. "Yeah…okay, well…that matches what everyone else is saying," he told her. "Look, if you happen to think of anything else," he said as he handed her his card, "call me, okay?" he smiled. She nodded, her eyes finally making it to his face. God, she has beautiful eyes…and such innocence in them… Jim stepped away, determined to let her keep her innocence.
As he moved around the room, finishing his work at the scene, he felt her gaze following him. He turned at one point and saw her talking to Greg Sanders. She seemed fine, no blushes and very talkative. Greg was telling her something and then her gaze shot back to him and her face turned bright red again. He saw her take a deep breath and swallow and then she began to relax, a small smile working at the corners of her mouth. Her wide eyes softened as she looked at him square in the face. Damn, you're too old to be playing this game…especially with her…she's like…Ellie's age.
Finally, they released the witnesses and people began to trickle out of the room. She lingered and became one of the last to leave. He saw her cast him one last look and then glance down at his card, still tightly gripped in her hand. He felt someone ease up to his side and heard Sanders clear his throat. "You um…seem to have a fan," Sanders said quietly.
"What?" Jim said, startled out of his observance. "A what?.."
"She was asking me all kinds of questions about you…and I noticed her eyes hardly ever left you the whole time. You still got it, Brassman," Sanders teased.
Jim guffawed. "Probably remind her of a favorite uncle or something," he shrugged, his male pride secretly stoked. "Anyway, are we done here?"
"Yes, Uncle…we can leave now," Greg said, chuckling to himself.
It was hours later before Jim broke away from PD and headed home for some much needed rest. He broke the seal on some twenty five year old Chivas Regal that he'd kept hidden in the back of the cupboard. Seems appropriate since that's probably her age…
Once he'd poured a stiff drink he settled into his favorite chair and let his mind wander over the young woman. She was about five and half feet tall, a little taller than he usually liked them, but he couldn't deny that every inch of her looked good. She had long legs that travelled up to a promising torso, with a flat stomach and tits that begged for sucking. Damn, when'd you turn into a dirty old man? Jim grunted as his mind continued to work. What'd you expect, since you were a dirty young man…but god, her tits were…shit, leave it alone…Jim took another swig and sighed. Oh hell, might as well give in, dirty thoughts is about all the action you're gonna get anyway, he mused. But as he thought more about her, he realized that her eyes intrigued him the most. They were an unusual color of green…leaning towards blue and when she looked at him, they reflected such innocence…and trust. He was sure that no one had ever looked at him in quite that way before. Something stirred deep within him, something of the idealist he'd been before the cynicism had set in. He'd once looked at the world the way she had looked at him. But that was a long time ago…very long time ago…
Something else occurred to him as he stared down into the glass of amber liquid. "I've never felt so old and so young at the same time…," he said to the empty room, as when she looked at me.
He knocked back the rest of the glass and headed to bed. Sleep was difficult to come by, however, as his mind kept the image of her wide-open innocent look in front of him. Damn, it's been a long time since I felt this lonely… An ache grew within him for the simple touch of another human…one in particular.
Frustrated, Jim stalked out of his room and back down the hall. He poured another glass of the warm amber drink and downed it quickly, seeking the numbness it would provide. After downing a third glass full, he began to feel the desired effects, as his body began to relax and fog began to cloud his mind. He closed his eyes and hoped that oblivion would follow, but she was still there.
He took a mental inventory, beginning with her auburn hair, naturally so if he was any kind of a judge at all. She had an olive complexion and of course, those green eyes. They were set between high cheekbones, giving her a bit of an exotic look. Her nose was small, kind of cute, he thought as he remembered the slight upturn in its set on her face. And as he envisioned her lips, he felt an overwhelming urge to kiss her. From the way she was acting, she'd be receptive too…
Who you kiddin'? he asked himself. She'd get one good look at your beat up old carcass and puke right then and there. Gotta quit doing this to yourself, Jimmy…
Suddenly, rage inundated him, sending blood rushing through his veins. His head felt like it might explode and in his sudden fit of anger, he hurled his glass across the room, and watched as it smashed into the wall and fell into fragments on the floor. Slumping back into the chair, he felt an overwhelming sense of despair. "Am I ever going to find someone…for me?" His question tumbled across the quiet room and died a silent death, as no answer came.
Jim sat, staring at the broken pieces of glass for a long time. Somewhere in his muddled mind, he was comparing the glass to his life…broken into dozens of little pieces, hopeless and irreparable…something to be swept up and thrown out with the rest of the garbage. He felt the tears that were trickling down his face but he didn't care. He'd cared for too much for too long...and where'd that get me…a cold empty bed…no one who cares if I live or die. How did I end up this way? An inner voice answered him. Cause you're an ass Jimmy Brass and you screw up every good thing that comes your way.
His mind began to formulate a list of the good things, immediately dismissing his ex but putting Ellie at the top. Then there was Annie. You might have had a chance there, asshole…but you blew it by trying to make your worthless marriage into something it wasn't. He'd met a couple of other possibilities along the way but fear had kept him from taking any big steps. Sometimes, he thought that he and Catherine might work, but she was still reeling from the hurt of Gil falling for Sara and then leaving. Sofia had seemed interested for awhile but he had taken the role of mentor with her and their relationship evolved into more of a father/daughter kind of thing. His latest fiasco had been the Nettles woman. Damn, could you have been any more stupid? And then her face flashed through his mind again…Micha. God, she is beautiful…and the way she looked at me…damn. Of course, she doesn't know you, does she? If she did, she'd run as fast and as far away as she could. He fell into a daze, subconsciously nursing his self-loathing and misery. Sometime later he stumbled back to it, his cold empty bed.
