Title: By Design, Chapter 1

Author: Sorsha711
Fandom/Pairing: CSI; Brass/OCF
Rating: M, for language and references to violence; 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 serial killer is stalking the streets of Vegas… hell of a time for Brass to meet the woman of his dreams.

By Design, Chapter 1 -- First Impressions

--

Brass paused near the security gate for the construction site and looked up. He noted that the sprawling complex of buildings seemed to have rocketed out of the ground since the last time he had stopped to gauge its progress. Cranes and scaffolding obscured how much work had been done when viewed from his car, but he was close enough now to see the details emerging from the former site of several blocks of deteriorating older buildings.

Celebration Centre was being hyped as the 'new downtown for Las Vegas', one to rival anything happening on the Strip. The Mayor had repeatedly trumpeted the project as another major step forward in the revitalization of the City… a comment that might confuse the average tourist that didn't know most of the Strip was outside of the actual city limits of Las Vegas. (Celebration Centre is a fictional development under construction in my head and nowhere else, LOL.)

/Mob built the Strip out of the desert… didn't want to have the City interfering in their operations/ Jim mused. /They had the County in their pockets… along with the State Legislature… must have, to get them to pass a state law prohibiting the City from ever annexing south of the Sahara. Ah, the bad old days!/

Movement to his right made him turn to see who was coming his way. A barely stifled wolf whistle accompanied a sudden flare of interest in his deep blue eyes. He knew the lady he was admiring had seen his reaction from the faint blush that accompanied a determined attempt to 'stare him down'. He saw her gaze flicker to his badge briefly before settling on his face.

"Can I help you, Captain?"

Smiling in hopes of improving the first impression he had made with his near leer, Brass offered, "Maybe. I'm trying to track down someone that works here, but the guard isn't around to open the gate. I'm Jim Brass, by the way."

"Casey Edgers," she replied, accepting the hand he extended in her direction. "George must be on rounds. I'm lead architect for the project, so I know some of the guys working the site. If you have a name…"

"Sure… Tony Osteen," Jim supplied. "I was told he generally comes to the site early to meet with the night shift foreman before he leaves for the day."

Sky blue eyes widened fractionally hearing the name of the project superintendent. "Yes, Tony usually comes in around 6 most mornings. I'm supposed to meet him to get a walk-thru of site at 6:30, so he should be in his office."

"This is the only way into the site?"

Nodding, Casey explained, "At night, the site is locked down and this is the only way in. Unless Tony or the shift foreman approves it, the other gates are locked from 7:30 p.m. to 6:45 a.m. They won't open for another half-hour when first shift starts arriving."

"So… George, I believe you said, is the night watchman?" Jim prompted. "Is he the only one?"

"No… there are a couple of other guards patrolling the perimeter… they work for the general contractor, Greenley Construction, so I don't know all of their names," she reported. "I know George because he's usually here at the main gate if I get here early. I'm a little surprised he's not around. Have you tried the call box yet?"

"Not yet… I just got here a few seconds ahead of you," he replied, walking over to the intercom beside the gate. Pushing the button, he looked back at her as he waited for a response. "So… this is your baby?"

A small smile accompanied a nod. "In a manner of speaking, I guess it is. Projects like this take a lot of people to pull them off. I'm lead architect, but I can't claim sole paternity… or maternity of this bouncing bundle of headaches."

Chuckling at her quip, he started to respond when a voice from the call box asked, "Yeah, what ya want?"

"I want to see Tony Osteen," Brass replied. "Has he arrived yet?"

"'Bout an hour ago," came the gruff reply. "He expecting you?"

Grinning slightly at the snort of laughter from the uniformed cop hovering nearby, Brass admitted, "Probably not. I'm Capt. Brass, LVPD."

A long pause preceded, "LVPD?"

"Yeah… now, are you going to open the gate or do I need to get a warrant… bring back a dozen or so officers to help me search the grounds?" Jim asked, feeling a little irritated that the interview was proving so difficult to complete. "If I have to go that route, I promise we'll get in the way… cause delays. Can't be helped if we're doing a search."

Knowing her clients would not be happy with an unnecessary interruption to the work at the massive site, the architect stepped forward, "George… its Casey Edgars. I have a 6:30 with Tony. Open up so the Captain can do what he needs to do. We don't have time for avoidable delays."

"Is he arresting Mr. Osteen?"

An eyebrow rose on the faces of his listeners. "Do you know a reason I should?"

The reply was tellingly quick. "Naw… course not."

Watching Brass out of the corner of her eye, a fact that betrayed she had picked up on the same vibe as he had, Casey asked, "You just need to talk to him right?"

"Right," Jim asserted, "I need to find out if he can help me with a possible lead in a case I'm working. Far as I know, neither the developer or their agents are in any way involved in the investigation. Only reason I'm here is he works this site… so open the gate like the lady said."

"I don't know," the disembodied voice hedged. "I'm not allowed to let anyone inside the gate without approval from Mr. Osteen or Mr. Bridges."

Glaring at the box, Casey pulled out her cell phone and keyed the number for Osteen. Getting no answer… her call went directly to voice mail, she frowned as she dialed the third shift foreman, Phil Bridges. "Phil… Casey. I'm stuck outside the front gate… George is being George again. This is getting old fast."

"Thanks, but it's not just me," she clarified to the man on the other end of the phone. "There are two policemen out here wanting to talk to Tony but his phone is going to voice mail. Can you tell George to let us in? I'm supposed to meet Tony at 6:30 for a walk-thru and delaying them is only going to push us later finishing up here. I'm so not a morning person, so let me in so I can get to the coffee."

"No idea," she replied. "Capt. Brass says he needs to talk to him about a case he's investigating… that it has nothing to do with Harvin Development or either of our employers. He says he'll be back with a search warrant if we make it tough on him… and we both know we don't need the delay that will cause."

"It's your call. Tony expecting me at 6:30, so tell George to let me in, OK?"

Pocketing her phone, the tall brunette shook her head in frustration. "He's letting me in, but he says he has to talk to Tony about you two… liability and all that crap. Sorry. I tried. Hopefully, he'll find Tony quickly. If not, I will."

"Thanks," Brass offered, wishing he had some reason to delay her further. /Tall, busty babes like her are sooo easy on the eyes… totally out of my league, but a man can look!/

"Are you on schedule with the project?'

A small smile let him know she realized he was chatting her up, but to his amazement she pulled a business card out of her carryall. "More or less. Give me a call this weekend and I'll take you on a tour. We need to keep Las Vegas' finest up to date. Can't have you out of the loop."

Ignoring the all too interested uni he had brought along as backup, Jim smiled warmly as he accepted the card. "I'll do that. This project has been the talk of Vegas for the last few years. Be interested to learn more from the lady behind the plans."

The smile acquired a serious edge as she registered the condescending attitude of younger cop. She had seen Brass' rather obvious interest… she had worked in a man's world too long not to recognize the reaction. She had also seen the hint of insecurity masked behind his outward confidence… the source of her irritation at the dismissive smirk on his subordinate's 'pretty boy' face.

His smug attitude that the older man was wasting his time made her angry. Once he had made an effort to make up for his leer, she had found him rather charming… attractive. The air of command and authority he exuded was softened by hints of gentleness and warmth… a wry sense of humor. The mix was intriguing to say the least.

Turning to enter the gate, she glanced back at him as she slipped through the opening.

Casey made note of the fact their eyes met. Most men would have been staring at her behind… the younger cop clearly was, but Brass wasn't being that obvious. That alone convinced her he might be someone she would enjoy getting to know.

She had been in Vegas just under a year… a year of all work and no play. Frankly, that was mostly by choice, a choice that was getting old fast. She hadn't met anyone that captured her interest… until now.

A quick wink accompanied a soft, "Call me," and she was gone.

--

"Did that card do something to offend you?"

Startled, Brass looked up to find Sofia Curtis lounging in the doorway of his office. "What…?"

Grinning, the younger detective observed, "You're glaring at that card like it drank the last of your favorite scotch. Having trouble tracking down a lead?"

Sighing, Brass motioned for her to take the seat across from him. "The Ortiz case has gone cold already. I wasted a couple of hours on her lover yesterday… he had a solid alibi. He and his whole family were in Florida at Disney World when she was killed. He voluntarily gave up his DNA… not a match for the semen found on the vic. Starting to look like a random attack."

Frowning, Sofia offered, "That was part of the reason I came in early to see you. I caught a case a couple of months ago that may be tied to yours. MO sounds a lot like your doer… woman snatched from a parking lot, brutally raped… body dumped on the side of an isolated back road. Vic's name was Angie Simmons."

Perking up at this prospect of a new lead, Brass slid the file for the Ortiz case across the desk in her direction. "I'm assuming that's your case file…"

Nodding, she handed him the file she had brought with her and settled back to study the one he had given her. After several minutes, she observed, "So, Gil thinks the semen was an accidental transfer… bastard got sloppy pulling off a condom."

"That's about the size of it… no pun intended," Jim agreed, smiling in response to her chuckle. "If this is the same guy, level of violence is escalating fast. Tina Ortiz was beaten and strangled… part of the strangulation appears to have been while he was on top of her, so he was getting off on her pain. No sign she was ever into sexual asphyxia, so that, coupled with the DNA results, rules out the lover. He was apparently the only man she was seeing… her personal life isn't giving me much. She wasn't a party girl… can't find any jealous ex's."

"I had the same problem with Angie," Curtis reported. "She was in a long-term relationship with another woman, so men weren't her thing. She worked at an insurance company… pretty average life. The only men in her life were family and a few close friends… co-workers. Looked at them all and they were all dead-ends."

"Sounds familiar. So… you're wondering if we have a serial killer?" Brass concluded. "I agree there are some similarities about the MO. Let's have the crime lab compare trace from both and see if we have anything physical to support the theory. I see two or three items that need to be compared off the top of my head… lab reports reads a lot like the ones from my scene. If we have two, there may be other cases tied to him… assaults, peeping toms complaints…"

Nodding, she agreed. "I had the same idea. Let's talk to Grissom. Frankly, he and his crew are more likely to see a connection than the day shift. I don't mean to knock them, but we both know night's has a better team. Day's has too may newbies to have any rhythm."

Grinning in agreement, Brass rose to follow her out the door, pausing long enough to slide the business card Casey Edgars had given him securely into his wallet. Sofia noted his actions, but waited until they were in a deserted section of hallway to ask, "So… who is she?"

"She who?" Jim dodged.

Smirking at his unintended confirmation that the card wasn't work related, she teased, "Let me guess… the hottie that gave you her card at the construction site yesterday?"

Groaning, Jim risked a quick look in her direction. The genuine smile on her face caused him to relax a little as he asked, "You heard…?"

"… that you made the mistake of taking Don Friedman with you yesterday," she joked. "Biggest gossip on the entire force… not to mention a total jerk. I think he was miffed she didn't throw herself at his feet and beg him to take her right there. He thinks he God's gift."

"Let me guess… she gave me her card because she felt sorry for the old guy, right? If I hadn't gotten in the way, he would have already scored," Brass speculated, the snatches of aborted conversations he had overheard now making sense. "His opinion was crystal clear."

Studying the tense set of his features, Sofia observed, "He's way too pretty in my opinion… never liked pretty men… and he's in love with his own image. Some women actually want more in the men they date."

"Hummph…"

"So… have you called yet?"

"If this is your other reason for coming by…"

"It is," she confirmed. "Well… have you?"

Blowing out a frustrated breath, Jim admitted, "Why bother? Gorgeous, funny, smart, and successful… not the type of woman that settles for an over-the-hill cop that's loosing his hair and going a little soft around the middle. I've heard enough of the assessment of my chances that are circulating with the card story, so… no, I haven't called. No point in setting myself up for another rejection."

Sighing, Sofia complained, "Why do you always sell yourself short like that? Plenty of women would be interested if you gave them a chance. You've closed yourself off, settling for easy when it's offered, but never try for more. Frankly, you so need more."

Irritated, he bit out, "Really? When did you become an expert on my love life?"

"What love life? Don't forget I partnered with you for two years… your pattern is pretty predictable," she retorted. "Hell, you ignore or reject any woman that shows signs of being attracted to you… you never give them a chance. Honestly, I can't decide if you're clueless or hiding, but the opportunities are there if you'd poke your head out of your office once in a while and do something other than work. Hell, you're worse than Grissom. At least he's holding out that he and Sara can work things out. You have no excuse!"

"Yeah… legions of women just waiting to snap up a catch like me," he growled. "Stay out of my business…"

"What about Alice in the Sheriff's office… or Candy over in the Clerk's office?" Sofia listed. "Then there's your neighbor… the one that's always baking you stuff. I can go on if you want. Hell, there's me. I was pretty clear I was hoping you might pursue something once I transferred to days, but you cut me off cold."

Coming to an abrupt halt, Jim stared at her for several tense seconds before he admitted, "News to me. I don't recall…"

"Invitations to dinner… drinks after work or on your days off," she reminded him. "Any of that sound familiar?"

Stunned, Jim stared at her, not a little disappointed he had missed the signs. Both knew she was now involved in a serious relationship with a man she had met a few months back. Obviously, his chance had passed by without his ever noticing it for what it was. "I… I guess it never occurred to me you might… I mean… I'm older and… I kind of figured I'd become your rabbi. Damn… why didn't you just knock me over the head?" (A/N -- Rabbi is police slang for a mentor or guardian angel.)

"Thought about it," she admitted, catching his arm to pull him into an empty interrogation room. She could hear someone coming down the hall in their direction and she refused to end the conversation until she had had her say. The last thing Jim needed, however, was a witness overhearing their talk. In this building, the walls really did have ears.

Releasing her grip, she leaned into the side of the table. "I finally gave up… decided you weren't interested and… women don't like to be rejected either, Jim. In retrospect, I should have realized you were being a clueless man. Catherine told me to jump you one night, but… I went with safe and I guess… I'll always wonder what might have happened. I'm happy with Denny, but… you know what I mean."

Sighing, he nodded. "Yeah… I was sitting there all ripe to be jumped, but… you're a lot younger… beautiful and smart. I just assumed…"

"That's the problem, Jim," Sofia interjected. "You assume a lady isn't interested and never take risks anymore. Be honest… when was the last time you went on an honest to God date? And I don't mean waking up next to someone you hooked up with at a bar when neither of you was sober enough to be looking for more than one night."

Slumping back against the wall, he admitted, "Been a long time since I done that either… as for a date… I have no idea."

Fixing him with a determined stare, she asked, "Did she hesitate when you asked her for her card?"

"Actually… she gave me the card without my asking," he confessed, silently groaning at the predatory gleam that piece of information brought to her eyes. "I was trying to keep her talking… pretty obvious I was looking for an opening and… she just handed me the card and told me to call… that she'd take me on a personal tour of the site this weekend. Then… she walked away… well, she did turn around…"

"And?"

"Told me to call… gave me a wink," he muttered, knowing he was about to be raked over the coals for being a 'clueless man' once again.

A sudden gust of laughter made him straighten quickly, his pride stung by her obvious amusement. Before he could say anything, Sofia reached over to lay a soothing hand on his arm. "I wasn't laughing at you, Jim; I was laughing at Friedman. No wonder he was pissed and felt the need to dis you. A babe by both your estimations not only totally ignored him, she offered you her card and INVITED you to call. Poor little Donnie must have been crushed!"

A mischievous grin warmed his face as the logic of her conclusions sank in. "Maybe… but you sure have a hate-hate thing going for Friedman. Maybe there's more to it… some secret burning passion… a torrid affair gone wrong…?"

Rolling her eyes, Sofia scoffed, "As if. Friedman and I were at the Academy together and he's been a jerk in my book from day one. Bastard told more than a few people I made detective on my back… you and/or McKeen were the tops in case you were wondering. I got some blowback on that after you took McKeen down on Warwick's murder."

"What?"

"Apparently Donnie-boy didn't miss the fact I was hot for you even if you did!" she observed. Sensing he was about to go off on a tangent… angry on her behalf over Friedman's comments, she added, "He's just sore he's failed the sergeant's exam three times and is still working patrol."

"Three times? I'd heard he'd flamed out twice, but… damn, how can you blow it a third time?" Brass demanded.

"Aced the detective's exam the first time, right?"

"Same as you," he responded, grinning wickedly. "I guess its true the cream does rise to the top! What does that make Friedman… besides an idiot?"

"Sour milk I guess… do I look like a milkmaid?" Moving toward the door, she urged, "Call her. Don't make me drag you into another interrogation room for second pep talk/lecture. You might get a little bruised up if that happens."

Chuckling, he retorted, "Right… can't risk you loosing control and jumping me. Denny would pound me into the ground!"

His grin widened as he heard her sputter, "That's not what I meant!" as he moved toward the door so they could return to work.

--

A/N: Good start or not? This story is set after they have solved Warwick's murder. I'll allude to the details of how they did that in later chapters, but that won't be the focus of this story. Oh, and there will be a little Gil/Sara in amongst the Brass-love Grin! Feedback welcome!

8-2-08