Jim Brass had a problem. It had been tormenting him for weeks. The usual remedy was only providing temporary relief and he knew he needed a better solution. At first he had denied that this could even be happening to him, especially at his age. But as days passed and the nuisance kept popping up, he began to accept the truth of the situation. And it was becoming a quite agonizing truth.

He knew the source of his discomfort; it was spending too much time with her. Whenever she was around his blood pressure rose and so did his little problem. And the problem was growing, both figuratively and literally. And while he was accustomed to reacting to attractive women in that way, he wasn't accustomed to the longer term effects she seemed to have on him. Consequently, meetings with her were followed by quick trips to the restroom, or broom closet, or any other secluded place he could find. But even then, the relief was temporary because a few hours later, his little problem would be back. And those occasions where he couldn't hide away for a few minutes were beginning to be painful in a place no guy wants to feel pain.

He considered approaching her to see if they could be something more than colleagues. But she always seemed to have some younger, more attractive guy in the picture. Long ago he accepted that he wasn't her type. But if his recent difficulties were any indication, she was his.

They had worked together for years without his little problem. They'd been friends, sharing drinks and child rearing war stories. But in the last year, something changed; maybe he had. He wasn't sure what had caused the change in the way he thought about her, but it had. Love wasn't a concept he was ready to admit but he really didn't have any other explanation for the way his heart raced and his blood simmered when she was around or even when he just thought about her. His level of protectiveness had escalated as well and his overreactions were now legend around the station. It had only complicated things.

As if his thoughts could conjure, she appeared in his doorway. "Hey Jim," she smiled.

Feeling guilty for the thoughts he'd been entertaining about her, he looked at her meekly. "Hey."

She eased into the room and settled in a chair across his desk. "It's Christmas Eve. What are you still doing here?" she asked.

"Trying to finish this report," he shrugged as he pointed to the folder in front of him. Truthfully, he had finished everything except for adding his signature.

"Oh, well… I'll go so you can…"

"No, wait. I um…I'm done, just need to sign it."

"Oh good," she grinned as she settled back in the chair.

"So you and Lindsey have plans tonight?" he asked as he scribbled his name across the bottom of the report.

"Yeah, she's going out with friends and I'm hanging at the house. You?"

"She's not spending the evening with you?" Jim asked, surprised.

"She assumed I'd be working…said I'd worked Christmas Eve for years so why not this one too." After a deep sigh, she looked across at him. "You didn't answer me. What are your plans?"

"No plans. It seems kind of pointless …being on my own and all…"

"Yeah," she answered thoughtfully. "Hey, there's that new club over by The Eclipse. I haven't gone there yet. Want to check it out with me?"

Jim watched her for some sign of what might be behind the invitation. Was she just really bored and not looking forward to a lonely evening at home or did she really want to spend the evening with him. "I dunno," he rumbled. "You sure that's how you want to spend your Christmas Eve?"

"Beats watching Miracle on 34th Street for the fifth time this year," she chirped. "No sense both of us going home and being lonely and depressed when we could hang together and have a little fun."

The lines in Jim's forehead danced as he considered her reasoning. "Yeah, I suppose…although after the second single malt, I'm usually pretty mellow."

Catherine laughed. "Well then, consider it doing a friend a favor."

Jim smiled. "Okay, since you put it like that… what time?"

"How about now? You said you were finished. I know I am…"

"Okay," Jim said as he stood. "Let me change shirts and I'll meet you up front?"

"Right. Don't be too long though," she said coyly.

Jim nodded as he exited his office to head for his locker. Her coyness had stirred something in him and he had a feeling he would need a little longer than a quick change.

Twenty minutes later Jim stood on the opposite side of the glass wall to the reception area. Catherine stood next to the Sergeant's Desk, fidgeting. Stepping into the reception area, Jim cleared his throat. "Sorry. That took longer than I expected." His mind was scrambling for an excuse other than 'I had to jack off before I exploded'. Somehow he didn't think that would be a good start to the evening.

"That's fine," she replied, dismissing his tardiness. "As long as you're ready now," she smiled.

"Yeah, let's go," he grinned. Putting his hand on the small of her back, he guided her through the corridor and out the door. "My car?" he asked.

"Depends. How many drinks you planning on?"

"No more than I can handle," he shot back, encouraged by the happy glint in her eyes.

She eyed him as he opened the passenger door for her. "I like the look," she said appreciatively as she perused his charcoal slacks and dark blue polo shirt. "I'm glad you lost the suit," she said as she slid into her seat.

Jim smirked. "Yeah, well… the suits are for cop mode."

"Well, the non-cop mode looks good on you." She heard his nervous chuckle as her car door closed.

As he drove toward the club, Jim's mind was in overdrive. What is this, he wondered. Was it a date, a hook-up, or just a couple of friends going for drinks? He was afraid to hope for too much and afraid that if he didn't he might miss his opportunity. But then, maybe he should miss the opportunity, he told himself. After all, they still had to work together. But she had admired the way he looked…

Catherine was quiet at first but then looked in his direction. "You're quiet tonight," she commented.

"Yeah, I um…" he hesitated. Should he try to explain? Tell her what he was hoping for? Tell her about his little problem? And if he did and her response was to help him with his little problem, then would he have bigger problems? Where could it go besides into a swirling downward spiral? "Guess Christmas just always makes me a little sad…"

"Why?" she asked genuinely wanting to know.

"It was Christmas morning that I found out about my wife… Worked the third shift Christmas Eve so I could be there when Ellie woke up in the morning. Things were slow and the Captain sent me home early. Thought I'd surprise the wife only I got the surprise instead. She was in bed with one of the other guys in our squad."

"Ouch," Catherine said sympathetically.

"Yeah…ouch. Anyway, since then I haven't really looked forward to Christmas."

"We'll just have to make you some new Christmas memories," she suggested brightly.

An hour later they were seated at the club and were starting on their second round. The conversation had gotten lighter with Catherine catching Jim up on the gossip around CSI. He'd chuckled at some of Hodges' antics. "Really don't know why you guys put up with him," he said.

"He's good at what he does. Used to drive Grissom up the wall too and then, I dunno," Catherine shrugged. "Something changed and Gil was nicer to him…maybe it was Sara's influence."

"Probably." Then Jim decided to venture into unclear waters. "So the rumors about you and Vartann…?"

"Rumors?" she asked as she looked at him sharply.

"Oh you know the ones…you two were together but now you're not." Jim watched her intently for signs of her true feelings on the matter.

"Yeah, that pretty much sums it up. I thought…well, at first he seemed…"

"Like he might be the one?" Jim tried to help.

"Oh, I don't know about that. But it was good. Then something changed. He got possessive and started trying to tell me how to run my life. And when he found out that I have part ownership of The Eclipse…"

"Sent him around the bend, huh?"

"Yeah. He wanted to know all my business."

"He still seems pretty interested, if you ask me."

Catherine rolled her eyes and suppressed a smile. "He can be as interested all he wants; I'm not…not anymore."

"So now what?" Jim asked.

"I don't know. Maybe nothing. I think after Gil left to go find Sara and then she showed up so happy... I think I just felt like I was missing out on something. But they're happy because it is right for them. Mr. Wrong isn't going to make me happy and I think I'm happier with nobody than the wrong somebody."

"Yeah, know what you mean," Jim agreed as he watched her glance toward the dance floor. He knew she liked to dance and could tell that's what she wanted now. Mustering bravado that he didn't necessarily feel he asked, "want to dance?"

Her eyes shot back to his. "You dance?"

Smirking, Jim answered. "Don't know if you'd call it dancing but I'm willing to get out there and look like an idiot so you can dance."

Catherine laughed as she reached for his hand. "My hero," she said as she pulled him to the center of the floor.

Jim knew she was a good dancer; he'd seem her dance before. But being at the center of her moves was stirring things in him again. Still, he was enjoying the view. Then suddenly the music changed and the song was slower. He recognized the mellow tones of ole Blue Eyes himself singing Whatever Happened to Christmas. It seemed like the DJ had been listening in on their conversation.

He knew by the glint in her eye that she wanted to dance to this one too. So after a tight swallow, he took her hands and pulled her closer, slipping his hand around her and resting it on her lower back. He held her as close as he thought safe and began to move around the floor. She followed him and managed to not let him get her toes.

They weren't far into the dance before she snuggled up to him closer, brushing against him. Inwardly Jim went from moderately uncomfortable to all out mortified. Then she whispered, "it's okay if you just sway, I'll sway with you."

Her sway was his undoing. Every time she shifted, she brushed against his little problem, the one that was growing larger with each movement. Instincts took over and his hand moved down a little, his fingers working down to her ass, which only made his problem worse. By the time the dance ended, Jim was fully locked and loaded and thought he might be about to die, either at Catherine's hand or of embarrassment.

The DJ started the next song and Catherine started to laugh. It was then that Jim the fates were working against him. Heat shot up his neck into his face as he caught the opening strains of Blue Christmas. His pulse quickened as she leaned over to whisper, "I think your Christmas is blue enough, don't you?"

Afraid to look into her face, he stepped back to lead her off the floor. He felt her hand tighten as she followed his lead. Once back to the table, he took a stiff shot of his drink before he even sat down. "I should take you home," he told her finally.

"Okay," she answered with a husky voice.

Jim was behind the wheel, pulling out of the parking space before she looked across at him. "Your house, Jim."

He hit the brakes so hard he was afraid they'd have seatbelt bruises. "What?"

"You heard me…your house. Mine might get a little crowded."

"But…" He really intended to take her home…to her house and say good night and then go to his home and get totally smashed.

He felt rather than saw when her hand landed in his lap, her fingers finding and capturing him through his slacks. "Happy Christmas memories, remember?"

Gulping for air, he nodded. "I remember. But …" her hand was making it impossible for him to think clearly. "But you deserve better than a one night stand…and we work together and…"

"And you talk too much. Besides, who said anything about a one night stand? I've seen the way things have been when you are around me. I've felt your… attention. One thing dating Lou showed me was that I was looking at men all wrong. I want a real man, Jim. One that is secure enough about himself that he doesn't have to tell me how to live. One that doesn't want to play games unless they are in the bedroom; I'm all for those games."

"But…"

"Jim," she began seductively, "if you don't take me home and... take me….right now….your blue Christmas might last into the new year. And we can't have that. And if it makes you feel better about it, I really want it too."

He looked across, trying to pick up any clues from her face about the honesty of what she said. He couldn't argue that his problem was not getting any better. But she wanted him? That was hard to believe. "You sure?" he finally asked.

"I'm very sure," she smiled. "You're not the only one who has had a change of heart over the last few months, she said as she squeezed him very strategically.

Jim's engines were revved and he wanted to go full speed. His saner self told him to go slow as he pulled out of the lot. In his head, he was repeating the same message to his body. And as much as his mind was reminding him of all the reasons not to get in a hurry, his body wasn't listening.

What can I say, my mind is warped, lol. And yes, I am still working on DSS. But this sprang to life and just had to be written; it wouldn't let me rest until I did. So do I leave it to your imagination or should there be a chapter 2?