Title: Heaven Is

Author: Sorsha_711
Fandom/Pairing: CSI; Brass/Willows
Rating: T, 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 talk over drinks is the start of something new… but of what? A continuation of the final scene in Hog Heaven.

A/N --- A persistent little plot bunny has been chewing on my ankle for two weeks now. I finally gave in and wrote this to avoid permanent scarring from his sharp little teeth. Hope you enjoy my take on 'what happened after the cameras were turned off'. Picture it… the employee parking lot outside the LVPD Law Enforcement Center… enter stage right…

Heaven Is

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A stiff breeze ruffled her hair, randomly tossing strands of strawberry blond hair across her face. The irritated sigh that accompanied a distracted effort on her part to keep the long, thick mane under some resemblance of control caused him to smile… a smile that took several years, perhaps a decade off of his appearance. His smile became an unrepentant grin as he noticed the questioning look tilted in his direction.

"What's so funny?"

"Can't a man smile without the third degree?"

"Humm… some men, not you," she replied, a devilish twinkle sparkling in her blue eyes. "Give."

He took a moment to enjoy the sight. The twinkle had been noticeably absent from her expression for months… maybe longer. He'd forgotten how good it made him feel. "Considering how this night began… it's just a surprise to be smiling at all."

Nodding, she admitted, "I wasn't sure I'd be welcome… at least not tonight. Glad I was."

That caused him to come to an abrupt halt, the glow of the streetlight illuminating the parking lot bouncing off the top of his head. Pausing several steps ahead of him, she turned back to study him, noting how far his hairline had receded in recent years… the grey hairs that now competed for supremacy with the dark brown she had known for so long. Something about that made her heart clinch… reminded her that time wasn't forgiving… how much could be lost in the blink of an eye… the pain that came when loss was magnified by regrets… by 'what might have been's'.

"Jim?"

He stood stock still, the possible implications of her comment playing havoc with his heart rate. "You have to know…"

Catherine swallowed hard, hoping to dislodge the sudden knot of emotion clogging her throat. "Know what, Jim?"

"You're always welcome… my office… wherever," he managed, suddenly worried he had misread the moment. /…but… the vibe she's been giving off lately… like she's seeing me… ME, for the first time… since that day she called about Jeremy Kent… like she needed me. /

A breathtaking smile lit her face. "Am I?"

"Catherine… I…"

"Am I, Jim? Am I welcome or… have I waited too long?"

"Never… not as long as we both still have a pulse," he admitted, his voice cracking, "and… judging from the way mine is hammering, we're good."

Her voice became a sultry purr… something he's dreamed about having directed his way for longer than he'd care to admit, as she tilted her head to study him. "Hammering… now that sounds promising."

Groaning slightly as he watched one of his patrol units cruise past, the uniformed officers inside making no effort to disguise their interest, Jim whispered, "Maybe this is a conversation we should continue… someplace a little more private."

"I seem to remember mentioning Mom and Lindsey were out of town this weekend visiting my sister," she whispered back. "Since you know my address, I don't think I need to write it down for you."

Jim felt his eyes widen in surprise… something he knew she had noticed judging from the throaty laugh drifting his way. "Why?"

Now it was her turn to look surprised. "…am I inviting you home with me?"

A frustrated breath preceded, "That I get. Why now? Why me? It's not like you haven't known…"

"How you felt about me?" she completed. Sighing, she admitted, "It's complicated."

"Yeah… complicated," he agreed. "I don't want to screw this up."

"The invitation to my house wasn't an automatic invitation to my bed," she gently scolded. "I don't want to screw this up either… but I don't want to keep dancing around… us. I'm tired of wasted time… missed opportunities."

"Like Warrick."

Her smile turned wistful. "He's on my list, but… the potential for us has always been there too. Warrick and me… it wouldn't have worked… for a lot of reasons… mostly because we were never at the same place in our lives where we were willing to take the risk."

"And we are?"

"I think so."

His smile returned, though she knew it was actually more a mischievous smirk. Either way, she loved the sight. "I need to correct an earlier misunderstanding. I'm not opposed to an invitation to your bed… provided you want more from me than just my body."

A snort of amusement ruined her attempt at a sexy pout. "Speaking of your body… I don't share. The Annie Kramers and Rita Nettles of the world will have to look elsewhere."

The second her mostly teasing retort was out of her mouth, she regretted it. "Annie… I can't defend having an affair with her, but I won't apologize for it either. She got me through… kept me from hitting bottom when I found out about Ellie."

Holding up his hand in a silent request for her to let him finish, he added, "Rita was a mistake… I didn't know she was married, much less to a cop. When I found out, it was over. I can't claim to be a saint, but… I'm not…"

Catherine reached out to grab his hand. "I know that, Jim. I'm sorry. I'm no saint either."

Squeezing her hand, he nodded. "I don't think I'd know how to be with a saint… although I don't have any trouble picturing you in a skimpy angel costume… white wings, feathers. Sounds like heaven to me."

Fixing him with a mock glare, she asked, "Before you start playing with your… harp, do I need to borrow your line about my needing you to want more than just my body?"

"Oh, beautiful, I want the whole enchilada… but I'm not sure how to go about that," he admitted, chuckling at her quip. "My track record…"

"…is almost as bad as mine," she finished with a wry shrug of her shoulders. "So… any suggestions?"

"Maybe," he began, "we're making this harder than it is. Maybe we need to go back to basics… start with a date… start like we plan to continue. Maybe we need to step away from what we know about each other and… 'Hi… I'm Jim Brass.'"

A brilliant smile accompanied, "It's nice to meet you, Jim. I'm Catherine Willows."

"Well, Catherine Willows, can I take you to dinner… maybe we can talk, get to know each other?"

"I'd like that, Jim… I'd like that a lot."

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So… should there be a sequel??? Feedback appreciated!

5-20-2009