Title: Trained Observer
Author: Sorsha_711
Fandom/Pairing: CSI; Brass/Willows
Rating: T, some adult situations
Disclaimer: A quick check of my bank account should prove I'm not making anything off of writing my stories. Sigh! Anything you recognize belongs to the good people that bring us CSI.
Summary: A talk over drinks after Catherine's conversation with Sara in Better Off Dead (10 x10). A a sequal to an earlier story of mine, Heaven Is
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"Vartann???"
Shaking her head, Catherine leaned over to pat her companion on the back. "I guess I should have waited for you to swallow before I popped that one on you, huh?"
His voice was still gravelly as he coughed to clear the last of the single-malt from his windpipe. That didn't stop him from repeating, "Vartann??"
A devilish grin preceded, "Yep… told me she was a trained observer… wanted to know how I expected to hide something so obvious from her."
A matching grin lit Brass's face as his breathing eased. "No offense intended, beautiful, but you CSI's aren't all that observant when it comes to what's happening right around you. None of you guys picked up on her and Grissom."
Rolling her eyes, she retorted, "Like you knew…"
"Hey…" Jim interjected, "…I tried to tell you that night we went to that damned wild-west theme park. You wanted to relive old news about Gil and Lady Heather. I told you then I knew something a lot juicier than that… remember?"
Catherine's mouth hung slightly open for a few seconds as his comeback filtered through her memory. "That was…"
"Yeah, sure was. I'd have told you if we hadn't had to deal with a dead body," Jim confirmed. "Hell, most of us in the PD were on to them. It was only the 'trained observers' over in the crime lab that missed the obvious. Sara, god love her, is the most clueless of the bunch most of the time. I mean… Vartann?"
"It's kinda tough to argue that point since Vartann figured out about us pretty quickly… so did Sam Vega for that matter," she agreed with a sigh. "It's sorta sweet that they feel the need to look after me… sweet, but a little restrictive some nights."
"Well, I am their commanding officer," Jim reminded her, the knowledge he was the alpha male of homicide a given. "They know me too well not to know I'd flay them alive if one of them screwed up and let you get hurt."
Snorting with tolerant amusement at the engrained chauvinism of the police force, Catherine added, "Yeah, we CSI's are helpless…"
"Need I remind you…"
"No, please," she insisted, her playful attitude disappearing as she reached over to cover his hand. "I work pretty hard most of the time trying to forget… watching you flatline… Warrick's body. I… it still makes my blood run cold."
"Yeah… so, stop giving me a hard time about our taking protection duties so seriously," Jim demanded, turning his hand to grip hers tightly. /Two dead in ten years… Nick, Greg… Sara, Shit!/ "You still have that damned scar…"
Clinching her eyes shut, she whispered, "Don't remind me! I still can't stand the sight of needles after all those shots!!"
Feeling the grip on her hand tighten, she quickly steered them back to lighter, less painful topics. "I almost lost it when Sara cornered me in the lab hoping for a little salacious gossip. Joe's been the object of a lot of… speculation for years among the females of the lab. I think she's a little jealous I might have first hand knowledge."
Waggling her eyebrows for effect, she added, "No surprise she's taking leave to go see Gil this weekend. Been a while… she has to go feed the need."
The glass he had been raising to his lips froze an inch from its destination. "I really didn't need to hear that you know. The Grissoms' sex life is 'need to know' only."
An unrepentant shrug was his only response. "At least you haven't been treated to her side of geek phone sex. I've walked in on her talking to him a couple of times lately and… as Lindsey would say, TMI!"
"No doubt!" Jim agreed, relieved he's missed that. "Have I told you we call them GSR around the PD?"
That made her laugh. "Oh, my God!!! How did we miss that? I can't wait to share that one with Nick and Greg!"
Jim took a moment to enjoy the sight of her lovely face lit by laughter. Since the night she had brought a bottle of scotch to his office to console him after his disastrous affair with Rita Nettles had become fodder for their co-workers' amusement, the depth of the passion and love they had found simmering beneath the surface of their friendship never failed to amaze him. A glimpse of her face had been enough to sustain him for years… a guilty pleasure he had never admitted to anyone. At some point during the past year, the need to see her… touch her, had become a physical and emotional imperative… akin to breathing or a drink of cold water on a Vegas' summer day.
After a lifetime spent largely alone, having Catherine to share his life… well, it had taken him months to believe 'they' would last. It was only after she had confessed she felt the same way… that what they had found was the best thing that had ever happened to her, that he had stopped looking around expecting another man to sweep her off her feet and out of his arms. 'He' and 'she' had become 'we'… /well, at least as far as we're a committed couple. Couple of not, Cath'll always be Cath! I better never let her hear me suggest being with me changes that! I prefer having my tackle hanging where it is and not on her trophy wall!/
Refocusing on their conversation, he nudged, "So… there's been a lot of speculation about Vartann?"
The predatory grin on her face was enough to scare most men… but Brass wasn't most men. He found it a major turn-on. "Oh, yeah! A few of the ladies have rather… involved fantasies about him!"
The look that crossed his face was equal parts horror… some thoughts scared even the bravest men, and nervous interest. "Just Vartann?"
The devilish twinkle in her blue eyes upped several notches. "I didn't say that, Captain."
His right eyebrow rose as he shifted slightly in his chair. "Do I want to know?"
A gust of laughter met his question causing the canted brow to arch a little higher. "Let's just say… there will be more than a few ladies that will be disappointed to hear you're off the market."
The left eyebrow decided to join the party. "Really?? Do tell."
"What? That you're off the market?" she teased, tingling with awareness as their banter danced around topics they usually avoided. "I thought I'd made that very clear."
"Oh, you have, baby… you have," he agreed, tilting his glass in her direction in a silent salute. "No… dish the gossip about me."
"Can't."
"Why not?"
"Violates the 'Girl Code'," Catherine announced, as she picked up her menu to hide the smirk on her face. "I'd be drummed out of the ranks… banned from all future club meetings. No meetings means no gossip, so no chance, lover boy."
Signaling their waiter that they were ready to order, Jim grinned. "I have access to better gossip, so you need to stay on my good side… so dish."
Another snort of amusement. "Get real! I control the reins of your sex life, so you'll tell me whatever I want to know to keep me in a good mood."
"Reins?? That sounds… hummm…"
"Yep… you're my own private rodeo bull… cowgirl up!"
"Hey! I don't want my performance compared to something that lasts only 8 seconds… I manage a lot better than that," he complained, ignoring the bright red blush staining the features of their waiter as he arrived in time to hear the last of their exchange. "Learned way too much about the sport working that case a few years back… way too much! That woman that owned the bulls was pretty chatty."
Chuckling, Catherine placed her order. Sipping her drink while she waited for him to finish so their waiter would scurry off to the relative safety of the kitchens, she silently replayed her conversation with the other CSI. Once they were again alone, she asked the question that had been hovering on her lips for weeks. "So… when do we go public? I don't want Vartann's reputation to suffer because of me."
Holding her gaze for several seconds to be sure of the moment, Jim smiled… smiled from his heart. The look took Catherine's breath away as it gave his usually too-serious features a boyish quality. "Baby… I'm ready whenever you are. I'd shout it from the top of the PD if the Sheriff would let me."
"He already knows… but, I'm going to enjoy the look on Mrs. Grissom's face when she hears! Trained observer, my ass…"
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1-26-2010