Summary: Brass visits Sara in San Francisco and they take a walk.
Disclaimer: None of the characters are mine and if CBS wants to come after me, well, as long as they bring David Rambo, I don't care.
A/N: Potential spoilers for season 8. The prompt is LV Metro Event Code 413a Person with a Knife. Special thanks for princessklutz04 for being my beta. On a side note, I am surprised to say this is my 26th fic. Huh. Thanks for reading!
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As Brass left Ellie's last known address, he thought about what a waste of time that had been. Ellie was no where to be found – likely because she didn't want to be found. At first that made him mad. Yes, mad - frothing at the mouth, crazy like a dog with rabies mad. Then the situation just made him miserable. As far as Ellie knew, he was her father. But thanks to Warrick trying to help and her spitting at him, Brass knew better, he knew that Ellie was not his biological daughter. He wished he didn't know for sure that Ellie wasn't really his daughter; it was one thing to always wonder, but it was entirely different to know for sure.
If you were lucky enough in life you get two families – the one that you are stuck with by blood or marriage and then you have the family that you build around yourself. With the family that you build, you have the chance to fill the holes in your "real family."
Human Resources was on the under sheriff's ass about all of his vacation time on the books and they were forcing him to take a week off. The ironic thing was that you can never get the time when you want it or need it.
Brass decided to drive down to San Francisco to see Sara since he was in the area. When he called her to let her know he was going to be in town, she was at first apprehensive. But, after he explained the situation with Ellie, Sara's tone had changed and she seemed happy, relieved.
Since Sara left, she and Brass had exchanged a few phone calls, some e-mails, but no one knew for sure what was going on with her, or if they knew, they weren't sharing. She vetoed every road trip that Greg tried to organize. Brass understood that she needed her space. She needed time to sort things out. Being left to die crushed under a wrecked car in the middle of the desert will do that to a person. He just didn't want her to fall away into that person that they "used to work with." He didn't want her to become nothing more than a name on random files.
As Brass walked down the street, he started to get nervous, thinking about how Sara would react to seeing him. Would she be happy? Would she be standoffish? Would she be weird? Would he be those things? They hadn't seen each other in over 7 months, and people change. Those thoughts all went out the window when Brass heard his name shouted from across the street.
"Jim! Hey! Jim!" Sara was still shouting as she ran up to Brass, wrapping her arms around him in a bone-crunching hug – which squeezed a hearty laugh out of him.
"Hey kiddo!" Brass answered back. He broke away a bit, pulling his head back trying to get a good look at her. Sara definitely spent some time in the sun. Not like she had been languishing in the sun, but more like she had been hiking or surfing. Finally, it looked like she had put on a little weight. Overall, she looked different. Different, but good.
"You look great," Brass said still holding on to her.
"You don't look so bad yourself." Sara said as she turned out of the hug and slipped her arm in Brass', pulling him down the street. With their arms linked, they walked down the street, both with comfortable smiles on.
In San Francisco, the weather was always a toss up, beautiful and sunny or foggy and rainy. Today was the latter, with the air damp and cool, the fog rolling in off of the Pacific. They didn't say much as they walked to a bench, sitting down and looking out at Alcatraz, partially covered through the fog. Neither one wanted to be the first to break the silence. She knew he was going to ask the dreaded "how are you?" and she wasn't ready to answer.
Patting her leg, Brass decided to start with an easy variation. "So, how are things?"
"Good, things are good here. Nice weather, most of the time," she chuckled as she stared out to sea. "How is everyone in Vegas?"
"Well, same old same old. Everyone misses you," he said looking directly into her eyes.
"I know…" Sara trailed off. As hard as it was to leave, she knew that her friends didn't all understand why she left and why she had to do it on her own terms. She wasn't sure if she completely understood it. Sara just knew that was what she had to do.
Brass could see the shift in Sara, lost in her thoughts, so he decided to try and go for a lighter angle in the conversation. "You know, Hank and that guy that he lives with seem to miss you quite a bit too."
Sara laughed so hard that she surprised herself. "Jim, Gil and I talk all the time. "
"Yeah, I figured as much, " Brass started, not entirely sure how to go on. "It's just, well, he doesn't really talk about…"
"Us?" Sara finished for him with a grin. If there was one thing that she and Gil Grissom had in common, it was the fact that they both enjoyed their privacy. And with their situation, the less people that knew the better.
"Yeah, uh, you know, he doesn't really talk about your, uh"
"Relationship?" Sara again finished for Brass. It was not very often that she had the opportunity to see her old friend tongue tied, so she was going to take full advantage.
"Yeah, that," Brass said as he pointed to her. "You guys never really talked about it."
Nodding in agreement, Sara said, "I know…not so much."
"Yeah, not so much," Brass told the pigeon that was pecking around his shoes. He started to worry about whether or not Grissom had told her about the conversation that he had with him after finding out about their relationship.
"Grissom told me about the conversation that you had with him."
"Damn," Brass thought to himself, again watching the pigeon as the most interesting thing around.
Sara laughed at his reaction and nudged her shoulder into his, giving him a peck on the cheek, which only served to embarrass Brass all the more, as he turned tomato red from his neck to the tops of his ears. "I think it was sweet. Not necessary, but sweet " she said as she reached for his hand. "It is nice to know I have people looking out for me."
"Hey, I had an interesting case last week, " Brass started, trying to change the topic. "It was a 413 a."
Sara scrunched up her nose for a minute trying to remember what a 413 a was.
Chuckling, Brass said, "A person with a knife."
"I know, I would have gotten it," Sara said as she playfully punched Brass in the arm.
"Of course you would have gotten it, " he said with a playful eyeroll. "We had a citizen call in with a report of a knife wielding maniac running through the MGM."
"Welcome to Vegas," Sara said, remembering some of the bizarre things that she had seen while there.
"Exactly," Brass continued," I knew it was either going to be Freddy Kruger on the loose or a little kid with a pen knife. I get there and there is a massive commotion outside of CraftSteak."
"Tom Colicchio's restaurant? Top Chef! It was Top Chef?" Sara excitedly asked.
"Umm, yeah, how did you know that?" Brass asked, wondering when Sara had become such a foodie. "Why do I ask how you knew? You are Grissom's girlfriend after all," Brass joked.
"Fiancé," Sara simply corrected.
"Fia-what? Fiancé?" Brass asked, completely confused.
" Yup, fiancé," Sara offered, holding her breath, waiting for his reaction.
Brass' reaction, although momentarily delayed was positive. He just gave her a big hug and said, "Congratulations! I am happy for the two of you. Is it going to be a big to do or a quickie at one of the strip chapels? I just hope to be invited."
Nervously, it was Sara's turn to watch the pigeon as it pecked a piece of bread. "About that, we haven't completely decided what we are going to do, but, um, we talked about it and if you would be willing I would love for you to walk me down the aisle," Sara rambled.
Stunned, Brass just nodded yes as he wiped the tears that were starting to form in his eyes.
"So, umm, what was the deal with the maniac with the knife?" Sara asked, wiping her own tears away.
Laughing, Brass said, "It turns out that one of the contestants was going next door to Emeril's for some seafood whatever and ran out of the restaurant with his knife in his hand instead of putting it one of those cases. Half of the tourists were cheering them on and the other half were oblivious."
"Only in Vegas," Sara said with a grin.
"Only in Vegas," Brass repeated.