Gestalt: a structure, arrangement, or pattern of physical, biological, or psychological phenomena so integrated as to constitute a functional unit with properties not derivable by summation of its parts. Why this title? Because the cannon on JIm Brass gives us details about his past but not much substance except for his relationship (or lack of) with Ellie. Even the events we were shown, the friendly fire incident where he shot Bell and his own brush with death later, were brushed over by the writers. They never showed us the long term effects of any of these events in his life. After Ellie left him at the hopsital, we've never heard from her or about her since. Are we to believe he lives in a vacumn and these happenigs haven't taken a toll? Anyway, I think Paul Guilfoyle has played a much deeper character than the writers have written. Kudos to P.G. and shame on the writers. There are some Brillows fans out there and this is for you, especially. I hope all enjoy. BTW, the title and my thoughts here are probably a lot deeper than the story.

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Jim Brass leaned back in his chair and tossed the paper in the general direction of his desk. It floated onto the smooth surface, made contact, and then slid to the edge, gently floating down to the floor. He watched its journey and grunted as it landed. Still watching it, his hand came up to the back of his head, rubbing the short dark hair that suddenly seemed to bother him and then bringing his hand to his face, he stroked his chin thoughtfully, betraying inner turmoil.

Catherine Willows watched the scene from across the hall, gazing through the glass wall of his office and wondering what his obvious discomfort was all about. He was staring at the paper now and flexing his fingers, a sure sign that he was agitated. Curious and concerned, she stepped through the door of his office. "Jim?"

The detective looked up from the focus of his consternation at the CSI and his long time friend. "Hey Catherine, what brings you to my side of the house?"

His distracted demeanor and quiet tone told her that he wasn't fully aware of her presence. Moving to the offending paper, she bent and picked it up, putting it on his desk without looking, requiring major effort on her part. The urge to look was almost overwhelming. "What's up? Get a jury duty summons or something?" she smirked.

His eyes had followed the paper from the floor to the desk and he let out a small breath as she placed it on the desk in front of him. Obvious relief settled over his body. "Ah, no…" he said flatly. Finally he looked at her.

She saw the resignation in his eyes, and disappointment. Something in that paper had taken away hope, but hope for what? "So, you going to tell me what that piece of paper did to ruin your day?"

Jim's eyes glanced back at t he paper as an inner debate played across his face. Finally he shrugged in resignation. She's not going to leave until I tell her….

"Nothing really. It is an itinerary for my high school reunion. I was thinking about going this year but…I don't think so."

"High school reunion," she said, intrigue lacing her voice. "That sounds like fun. I went to one of mine and hardly recognized anyone there. They had gotten old," she said trying to let humor lighten the atmosphere.

Jim smirked and shook his head. "Well, if you think your class has gotten old…imagine mine. There was a group picture on the website that was taken at the last one. It looked like a picture for the parents of the class."

Catherine smiled. He was relaxing. "So what changed your mind about going?"

"That," he said with disgust as he pointed to the paper.

"May I?" she asked as she reached for it again. He nodded and she picked it up, reading the list of activities. Finishing, she looked across at the disgruntled man. "Sounds like fun. What's the problem?"

"Did you really read it? I mean look….everything is geared towards couples."

Catherine looked again and she understood what was bothering him. He wasn't a couple and there was nothing worse than being the odd man out at that kind of gathering, especially when everyone is trying to measure up to some long ago reputation that really has nothing to do with real life; living up to it or maybe living it down. "What is it about these things that brings all that teenaged angst flooding back?" she asked.

He smiled. "I dunno, but whatever it is….I'm not that guy anymore."

"So Jim, who was that guy? I'll bet you were a real menace in high school."

Jim chuckled. "I was. Full of attitude, thought I owned the world for awhile even. Then a judge got hold of me and showed me just what a big guy I was."

"A judge?"

"Yeah, I can still remember the sound of his gavel and the gravel in his voice as he gave me the choice of jail or The Marines. Somehow the Marines sounded like a better match to my sense of self importance. I would play the game and beat the Marines at it." He snorted, "yeah, right."

"You almost went to jail? What did you do?"

"Just stupid teenage stuff that got out of hand. I didn't know it then, but the judge did me a favor. The Marines straightened me out, showed me just how really important me and my in your face attitude was."

Catherine smiled. Obviously he didn't realize that he still carried a little of that attitude with him even now. But he had learned to use it to his advantage and could turn it on and off as the occasion required. "So back to the reunion, would you go if you were still married or had a date?"

"Yeah, I think I would. I've never been to one and, well….I'd just like to see how we all turned out, you know?"

Catherine studied his face, looking for signs of something deeper. And suddenly she knew. He wanted to see how he had measured up against all that youthful potential and promise of high school. Jim was haunted by so many ghosts and after being shot, a greater sense of his own mortality. He needed to find out if his life measured up against the people he had grown up with. "So…if you had a date, you would go?" she asked again thoughtfully.

"Yeah," he grunted, eyeing her suspiciously.

"So, problem solved," she smiled. "I'll be your date."

"Catherine, I can't ask you to give up your vacation time to go on some warped trip down memory lane with a bunch of old hoodlums…." He was smiling but his face was sad.

"Oh no you don't, "she warned. "You are not backing out. I want to go. Finding out what you were like in high school….this could be a lot of fun, not to mention a lifetime of blackmail material."

"But, wouldn't you rather spend your time with Lindsey?"

"Yeah right. A whole week with a sixteen year old that hates me…."

Jim looked at her intently and she could tell that he was considering it.

"Tell you what," she said." I'll let you ease your guilt over dragging me to this thing by showing me New York. I've never been and I've always wanted to go. Newark is close to New York, right?"

"Well, yeah….are you sure about this?" She could see that his mood was lifting. He was even getting a little excited over it.

"You kidding me? I get enough ammunition to taunt you for the rest of your life and I get to see New York. Yeah, I'm sure!"

"Okay. Well, I'll pay for everything. All you have to do is show up and have some fun." He was smiling now, anticipating.

"Oh, I like fun," she winked. "So you'll make the arrangements and let me know what days I need to have off?"

"ASAP."

"Okay, well….guess I should get back to work. That is what we get paid for, isn't it?"

Jim chuckled, distracted. His mind was already at work on the travel plans. "Hey Catherine…" he called out as she started out the door. She turned and looked at him. "Yeah?"

"Thanks." He smiled. She winked and left.

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