Disclaimer: I don't own "CSI" or any of its characters; they belong to CBS and/or Anthony Zuiker. The character of Iris King is mine.
Rated: K to K+ (?)
Spoilers: None I'm aware of.
Acknowledgements: To the ones making up my sounding board and/or beta duty, Kacee, Onyx, Mel and Sassy. "Wasted" written by Troy Verges, Marv Green and Hillary Lindsey; performed by Carrie Underwood. "Making Memories of Us" written by Rodney Crowell; performed by Keith Urban. "You Shouldn't Kiss Me Like This" written and performed by Toby Keith. "Must Be Doing Something Right" words/music by Patrick Matthews and Marty Dodson; performed by Billy Currington.
A/N: Iris goes solo on her first case as a CSI which just happens to have Brass as lead detective, causing them to spend extra time together as their investigation proceeds. What will happen between them as their investigation causes their friendship to evolve further? I'm doing some one shot stories of Jim and Iris.
"Three Time's a Charm"
Chapter One
Tara Peterson was in a hurry as she drove down the street in the early evening. She knew she was speeding a little in her minivan, but she had to get to the baby
sitter's to pick her children up or be charged extra for being late. Her cell phone rang and she reached down to pick it up – it was the babysitter calling. Her eyes went off the road for just a moment and when she looked up she screamed.
Grissom had called Iris on her night off as it was a busy night at the CSI lab as he scrambled to cover all assignments. She had just recently been promoted to a CSI-2 and he figured it was time for her to take a case on her own. He was confident of her abilities and that this case should be a pretty routine one from start to finish.
Iris pulled up to the accident scene in her Jeep and took out her kit. The street was closed to traffic and was ablaze with red and blue lights and was cordoned off with yellow tape. She had butterflies in her stomach but took a deep breath and walked on to the scene. In the distance high-pitched barking or yelps could be heard, making her wonder what was a dog doing at the scene of a pedestrian fatality.
Jim Brass met Iris as she came on into the scene. "Hey, Iris, I thought you were off tonight."
Iris gave him a hint of a smile, saying, "Grissom pulled rank and called me in…just teasing there. He's short-handed tonight and didn't have anyone free to send to this case. Besides he thinks its time for me to go solo on a case and let me try my CSI-2 wings. So what do we have here?"
"Good luck! I know you'll do fine or Gil wouldn't have sent you out alone. Anyway, the victim's name is Jack Thompson, age 58, a music teacher at Bishop Gorman High School. He was just out walking his dog tonight and was crossing the street when he had a close encounter of the minivan kind. The driver's name is Tara Peterson. She's pretty shook up but I'm going to ask her some initial questions." Brass closed his notepad.
"Thanks, I appreciate the vote of confidence there especially." Iris said wryly.
Brass gave her a friendly pat on the shoulder and wink before he went on to question the driver.
Iris went on to where the body of Jack Thompson lay. He lay crumpled with arms and legs askew in front of the minivan, looking like a rag doll a child had carelessly tossed. She quickly took a series of photographs as well as of the surrounding area, especially close-ups of the body. What struck her immediately was that the victim had been wearing a baseball cap which had flown a few feet from the body and a wig that was also lying on the street nearly halfway between the baseball cap and body. Iris quickly noted that the victim was totally bald with no shadowing of growing hair stubble or evidence of recent shaving. She wrote down her observations of the body. Retrieving a rolling tape measure from her Jeep, she began to make a series of measurements to note the position of the minivan in relation to the body and from the sidewalk to where the minivan had struck the victim.
Tara Peterson continued to shake under the blanket she wore given her by the ambulance driver. Jim approached her quietly.
"Mrs. Peterson, I'm Detective Jim Brass of the LVPD. I'm sorry but I need to ask you some questions about tonight's events. Please tell me in your own words what occurred." Jim said gently.
The young woman took a shaky breath before replying. "I was driving down the street on my way to pick up my two kids from the sitter's. I was going a little faster than I should have I admit. I saw…I saw Mr. Thompson walking his dog down the sidewalk. We'd never met, of course, but I've seen him several times every week when he walked his dog. You can't miss that dog of his."
"Go on, Mrs. Peterson," Jim encouraged as he made additional notes.
"My cell phone rang and when I looked down I saw it was the sitter calling, so I reached down to get my phone. When I glanced back up, there was Mr. Thompson standing in the middle of my side of the street. His dog's leash was one of these extension types. He looked like he was trying to pull the dog back his way. I…I…I couldn't stop in time. It happened so fast. He hit my windshield and flew up in front of me and landed over there..." Tara pointed as she couldn't finish and began to sob quietly.
"Have you had anything to drink tonight, Mrs. Peterson? It's a standard question I have to ask to include in my report." Brass asked, placing a hand on the woman's shoulder in a gesture of compassion.
"Yes, I went with some friends to happy hour after work just to relax a little while before going after my kids. I only had two beers! I'd never drive drunk or anything like that! I've got kids!" Tara said in a rush.
"You've been very cooperative, Mrs. Peterson. An officer is going to conduct a field sobriety test that's standard procedure in a situation like this. We've called your husband and the baby sitter. Your husband is on his way and he knows you're okay. You may be needed to come down to the police department for additional questioning as our investigation proceeds." Brass summarized as he motioned to one of the patrol officers to initiate the sobriety test.
Tara mutely nodded her consent.
Brass then walked over to Iris as she continued her measurement taking. He and Iris had slowly gotten acquainted since she'd joined Grissom's team less than three months ago, albeit in the unique fashion they'd met on her very first day at the lab - running into each other as he walked out of his office while she was returning a stack of case files to Doris in Records. He'd landed on top of Iris as they fell to the floor, causing her to ask him if he was wearing a very big gun or happy to see her, before Grissom formally introduced them. Iris also worked on the day shift for Ecklie's team as needed but was more content to have Grissom as her supervisor. Brass had eaten with her and the CSI graveyard team a number of times. Jim had noted that she was on the introverted side but once she got know you was witty and pleasant company.
"What's the scoop, Captain?" Iris questioned as she finished the last of her measurements.
"Iris, remember to call me Jim or Brass! Captain or detective is too flipping formal for me!" Brass exclaimed but good-naturedly.
"Aye, sir," Iris intoned with a quick rise of her eyebrows and a mock salute.
Brass knew he was being teased with and merely stood expectantly with his notepad.
"I'm all yours," Iris said in a slightly flirty way, then shook her head in disbelief at her response.
"All mine, eh? I'll keep that in mind for when I need an ace to throw down. Anyway, the victim was hit while crossing the street by Mrs. Peterson. She insists that the victim just stopped in the middle of her lane and she couldn't avoid hitting him because she was answering her cell phone at the same time. The victim, according to Mrs. Peterson, was just standing there and trying to pull his dog back to him on one of those long extension leashes. Mrs. Peterson also stated he walks his dog several times on this street through the week and she's seen him multiple times. She admitted to driving too fast and drinking a couple of beers earlier at a happy hour." Brass finished, flipping his notebook closed to put back in the breast pocket of his suit jacket.
"I know that sounds pretty cut and dried, uh, Jim, but there's something odd here in regard to the victim." Iris remarked.
"Like what?" Brass questioned with a raised brow.
"Come along, Dr. Watson, the game is afoot," Iris replied with a smile. She and Grissom had swiftly discovered a common interest in older movies. Brass understood the reference for once and gave her a slight grin.
"Jim, look closely at the victim's face and tell me what you see?"
"Okay. The guy's bald and didn't want to advertise that fact and wore a wig and he's been smacked by a minivan. So?"
"You're correct that Mr. Thompson is bald as bald can be and was wearing the wig under his baseball cap. The scalp shows no sign of hair growth or marks indicative of shaving the head with a razor. Another thing is he's missing an eyebrow." Iris said as she pointed out her findings to Brass.
"An eyebrow?" Brass queried, his face showing his puzzlement.
"It's a fake eyebrow, Jim. The opposite one is glued on but hanging off halfway! I'm going to retrace the scene to find the eyebrow on the loose." Iris turned to begin her search.
"Here, let me help. I got nothing pressing to do back at the office or another crime scene to cover." Brass pulled out a flashlight to give further assistance.
"Aw, no hot dates?" Iris asked teasingly.
"Not unless you're asking me out, hot lips!" Brass shot back with a grin.
Iris didn't reply, feeling her cheeks go red in embarrassment, causing her to look away from him.
"Iris, I was joking with you! You can turn down your blush response! You know I like getting a rise out of you!" Brass jokingly continued.
"I know! It's built-in and there's not a blessed thing I can do," Iris said in despair.
"Well, to be honest, I think it's cute and I get a kick out of being the reason you blush," Jim told her.
"The other guys on the team say the same, drat it!" Iris added as she began to sweep the street with her flashlight.
"Iris?"
"Yup."
"Don't move your foot!"
"Okey dokey."
Brass came by her and bent down toward the street as Iris caught the scent of his cologne as he did so. Her breathing became faster and her pulse quickened.
She also leaned down with pair of a tweezers and small evidence bag, noting their heads were very close to each other. Brass pointed with his flashlight beside her foot where an eyebrow-shaped and hair-covered piece of material lay.
"Wow! That could've been a needle in a haystack. Good work, Dr. Watson," Iris murmured.
"Sometimes you get lucky, so am I hired as your personal assistant?" Brass asked with a hint of suggestion.
"Uh, well, I'd hire you in a heartbeat but Grissom has to approve your time and any overtime involved!" Iris replied with a grin as she teased him back as she bagged and catalogued the fake eyebrow.
Iris was getting ready to leave when she heard the barking and yelping yet again. She walked over to an Animal Control truck and one of the cages held a strikingly white large dog. Being a dog lover, Iris gauged the dog to be a husky/shepherd mix and cautiously approached. She reached into her jacket pocket for a dog snack she always had ready when getting home to her own dogs. The animal control officer was leaning on the truck with a bored expression.
"I'd like to give him a snack, he seems friendly enough," Iris requested as the animal control officer looked at her.
"Yeah, he was good about hopping up in the truck so I think you can give him a little nibble." The animal control officer said while stifling a yawn.
"Hi, fella, would you like a yummy? What's your name I wonder? Let's look at your tag. Hello, Phantom!" Iris said softly as she gave the dog a snack that he wolfed down. She was rewarded with a wagging tail and reaching paw through the cage.
"I think you made a new friend, Iris." She heard a deep voice say beside her as she noted Brass had walked over.
"He's handsome, no doubt about it!" Iris said admiringly, patting Phantom on the head. Brass also gave the dog a scratch behind the ears as Phantom's tail wagged furiously, the dog licking Jim's hand as he whined.
"What am I…chopped liver?" Brass joked yet again.
"Nope, I'd say you're prime grade A top steak, yummy to the max!" Iris replied hastily and then realized what she'd said. No blush, no blush, she told herself.
Brass laughed at her before looking thoughtful, "Me, yummy?"
"So I've heard." Iris tried to do damage control quickly.
"Okay from who?" Brass asked with a challenging tone.
"Ladies at the lab, but I am pleading the fifth beyond that!" Iris said firmly.
Brass was now driving back to the lab as he followed Iris. He mentally went over the victim's profile after going through the dead man's wallet – late fifties, possibly divorced, no pictures of a wife or kids, nothing to suggest a current relationship or someone special in his life. These were things he could find he had in common with the victim. He thought to himself how long could Victoria's Secret catalogues or going to the various strip clubs in Vegas suffice for him? A series of lonely, heavy sighs ensued as he drove on.