Finally Jim fell asleep, only to be plagued by dreams. But even in his sleep, he knew the dreams made no sense. It was as if he were in a different time and place. But her eyes were the same…or rather, the expression in her eyes; her face changed.
Flames, the house afire, fully engulfed in fire, lighted the dark night. He skirted the area, avoiding falling timbers, frantic to get to her. Finally, she was there, crumpled in heap near the woods, terror on her face. He knelt beside her, "Abigail…oh my precious, you're hurt."
She looked up at him; her face smeared with soot and marked where ashes had fallen on her porcelain skin. "Nathan…the house, all that you've worked so hard for…"
"You are hurt," he insisted. "That's all that matters to me. I have to get you to safety." He bent to lift her but she cried out in pain. "Please Nathan, they'll find you…I'll be all right. Cora will see the flames from her place…you go…before they find you. They'll hang you, you know they will…" He looked around, trying to decide what to do. "Go", she insisted…pushing him away. "Cora and the boys will be here soon…I'll be fine." He heard horses on the opposite side of the house and knew they had come, the hated Redcoats. "I'll find you at Cora's then," he told her as he quickly kissed her and disappeared into the brush.
He watched from the woods as they rode into the yard, circling their handy work…his lifetime of work in flames. Then one of them spotted her and rode towards her. He dismounted and knelt as if he might help her. "Please," he prayed…"have mercy, help her…" Then the Captain rode to her, leaned over and thrust his sword through her already injured body. Rage flooded through him as he charged out of the woods, leaping at the officer, his knife aiming for the man's throat. The Captain turned and wielded his sword…
Jim woke from the dream, sweating and full of fury. He shook his head as if it would shake the images from his mind. But he still saw her eyes…Abigail's, no…Micha's. He frowned in confusion. "What the hell was that," he said aloud, breaking the spell of the dream. He walked to the bathroom and splashed some water on his face, still trying to make sense of the dream. Who were those people? Maybe a movie I saw…yeah, that must be it… But a feeling was gnawing at him that that wasn't it…something about it felt real.
The next few days were busy, Vegas in the summer always was. Three murders were still open cases and there had been a major robbery at one of the casinos. Then there were all the petty crimes that always revolved around the tourists, picked pockets, minor assaults, and the trick rolls. Jim hardly had time to think about anything beyond the next case. But at night, he dreamed of her; well, variations of her, anyway. He'd had three different dreams with her eyes in them, all in different times and different places, the players having different names. But she always looked at him with those eyes. It was really beginning to freak Jim out. He didn't know what to do with it. If Grissom were still around…maybe he could figure it out, but he wasn't. Briefly, he remembered that Lady Heather was a therapist now, but decided he didn't need that complication in his life. So he did nothing, except work the next case and then move on to the next one.
His days and nights went like that, hard work and disturbing dreams, for almost a month. And then, he saw her again, in the flesh. This time she was on Freemont Street. He was there, investigating a stabbing that could turn into a homicide and he spotted her. She was watching him again, but this time her eyes met his, although shyly. His eyebrows twitched and he kept an eye on her as he worked the scene. Eventually, he walked over to her. "Did you see what happened?" he asked, using his investigation as an excuse to talk to her. "No," she nodded. "I came up just as your people arrived. I..um…well, I was kind of hoping you'd show up." She was blushing wildly again. Her blushes, her manner with him, the way she looked at him; it unnerved him. "You um…hoped I…"
"Yes. I um…I...I wanted to see you again but I couldn't get…um, the …courage to …call you," she stammered, blushes on top of blushes. "I um…well, usually, I …" she took a deep breath, "Usually I'm not this tongue-tied but there's something about you that I just…you make me feel…I dunno know…I want to …Oh god, this isn't going well at all…" She rolled her eyes and seemed to retreat into herself.
Jim shuffled and smiled. "Hold on, hold on," he said, putting his hand up to slow her down. "It's okay. I don't bite…well, not very often anyway. Look…I mean is there something you wanted to tell me or something?"
She looked up him timidly. "I um…oh gosh, it's just…I can't stop thinking…" she gasped for air, "thinking about you and I just…needed to see you," she said, her voice falling into a whisper, embarrassment enveloping her. "I…well…there's…something about you that…," she gulped for more air. "I find you very attractive," she finally managed, her bluish green eyes settling on him, full of fear and anticipation. Jim felt a huge rush of all varieties as her words sank in. Blood rushed through him, sending his nerves into hyper drive and engorging a certain part of his anatomy. His heart was beating uncontrollably, the blood pumping through it ferociously. And his brain was buzzing…she needed to see you…can't stop thinking about you…like you can't stop thinking about her…she is attracted? He wanted to do something about it right then and there but his better self kicked in. Whoa buddy, she's half your age…at best. And…you don't know her or she you…and…this isn't the time or place…slow down…
She watched as he fought his senses for control, not really realizing what she was doing to him. "Look," he managed finally. "I'm...um, on the clock, ya know…" He swallowed, willing his heart to slow down. "But…after…maybe breakfast?' It was the best he could do and he was mentally kicking himself for sounding so lame.
Her eyes widened and a huge smile broke out on her face. "Breakfast…would be…great," she said, breathless. "Where should I meet you?"
He frowned, thinking. "Here. I'll meet you here…at 8?"
She nodded, still smiling. "Eight in the morning, right here…yes…oh yes."
God, she is such an innocent. What the hell are you doing? Damn you Brass…you shouldn't go near her…but…I can't keep her out of my head, another voice kicked in. I have to …to talk to her. Yeah…just talk….
Yeah, right.
For the rest of the night, Jim considered calling off the breakfast. As intriguing as Micha was, and his body wouldn't let him deny it, the idea that he would be anything but trouble for her was ridiculous. Still, he met her at 8:00 and walked her to a small little café around the corner.
She had smiled warmly at him when he met her at the assigned spot. And the look she gave him, one of intense relief and happiness, had set his gut into churn mode. His constant battle between his emotions, physical ache, and conscience was wearing him down. As they settled at their table and he looked across at her, his conscience began to lose.
"Did you catch the bad guy?" she asked in an obvious attempt at conversation. She was nervous and seemed to be on edge.
Playing along, Jim nodded. "Yeah, we did, except in this case, it was a bad girl….a very bad girl," his eyes glimmering as he remembered the case. She looked confused but he suspected that was a common expression for her. "She was a hooker," he decided to explain. Her face was blank at first and then slowly his meaning began to sink in. then with a faint flush in her face, her expression changed. "Sometimes I wish…I mean…those women are so free and easy with men, it seems…I wish I could…"
"No you don't," Jim said quickly. "They, well…their relations with men…that's not for you. Especially you…You should find someone special and settle down, have a family and all. I just don't see you with a different guy every night…"or two or three men a night… The idea of her hooking was eating at him.
"Oh, I didn't mean that I want to…you know. I just wish I could…well, I know you've noticed how…awkward I am." Her hands were fidgeting as she spoke. "And I just wish that I were more…sophisticated."
This was killing him. She was so ingenuous; her artlessness was refreshing to the seasoned, skeptical and cynical detective. He didn't want her to change but he knew life would do that to her. And if he wasn't careful, he would be the one to do it. The fact that he was feeling an intense attraction for her wasn't helping, but he was determined to not spoil her innocence.
"You're good the way you are," he told her gently. "A man would be very lucky for you to want him."
She looked at him oddly, sending his gut into another churn cycle. Clearly, he was one man whose attention she was seeking. Hopefully, there were others. "Then I suppose you are a lucky man," she whispered, her eyes darting to a speck on the table.
The waitress appeared to take their orders. "What'll you and your daughter have, sir?" she asked. Jim winced. But Micha began to giggle. "He's not my father," she told the waitress, uneasily.
"Oh, well pardon me," the waitress said sarcastically, shooting Jim an evil look. "Well, then, is this separate checks?" Jim glared back at her. "No, the check is mine." He really didn't like the way the woman was glaring at him or the cloud the woman's suspicions put over Micha.
Once the woman was gone, Jim turned his attention back to his young companion. "I'm sorry about that," he told her. She smiled at him. "She thinks you and I, that we're…"
"That I am a dirty old man that is robbing the cradle," Jim said candidly.
She looked at him, bemused. "You are not. If anything it is I who…who," she was blushing furiously as she tried to complete her sentence. "It is I who is … chasing you." She swallowed heavily as she finished, her eyes downcast as the redness continued to fill her face.
Jim was deeply touched by her admission. He knew that it had been difficult for her. Hell, he wasn't sure he would have the balls to confess something like that so early in a relationship. Not that there's going to be a relationship. There was something about her, about the way she was pursuing him, a desperation almost…something he couldn't quite grasp. But whatever it was, he couldn't allow himself to get caught by her. "Well, as flattered as I am," he said, "you really shouldn't be wasting your time and …allure on me. I'm much too old for a beautiful young lady like you."
Her eyes met his with vigor. "You think that I'm…I'm beautiful?" Her voice was soft, wistful and her expression was enthralling.
"Yes, but surely you know that…see it when you look in the mirror." She stared at him wide eyed and disbelieving. Then she nodded negatively, muted by the power of his words. "Oh come on, Micha, you're …well, I can't believe you don't see it. You're the prettiest thing I've laid eyes on in a long time. But," he paused, a little mystified, "hasn't anyone else ever said that to you?"
"No," she whispered shyly.
"Damn." He frowned, wondering what the hell her family had been thinking. "Honey, you are beautiful…and you should be told that every day."
Her face lit up. "Then you must tell me…every day."
"Whoa, wait…hold on," he said, putting his hand up. "That should be the job of someone much younger than me…"
The waitress reappeared with their orders. Micha seemed dejected but then looked up at the woman. "He says I am beautiful," she said happily.
The woman cleared her throat, nodding. "Yeah, and I don't understand why you are wasting it on the likes of him," she growled. Jim glared at her and she glared back. "And I don't care if it does cost me my tip, she's too young and too pretty for you, you old lecher."
Silently Jim thanked her. Maybe the girl would hear another woman's opinion. But Micha surprised him when she got angry. "He is not," she yelled at the woman. The waitress withdrew, shaking her head.
They ate quietly, each in their own thoughts. Jim was trying to find a way to extricate himself without hurting Micha. He had developed a real tender spot for her and didn't want to see her hurt, especially by him. But this had to be like a crush or something…no way she could really be interested. He looked across at Micha's contemplative expression. God, she's beautiful even when she's chewing…
They finished breakfast and Jim offered to walk her back to her car. "But I don't drive," she said, somewhat embarrassed. "I took a cab."
Jim considered putting her in a cab and paying the fare, but he was curious to see where she lived. "Then let me give you a ride," he said.
They walked to his car and she smiled as he unlocked her door and waited while she slid in. Then closing the door, he walked to his side. Once he was in and his door was closed, he suddenly felt the closeness of it, the two of them in such a small space. He could smell her, hear her breathing, and it had every nerve on edge.
She stared out the window as he drove, looking only at him to give a direction. Finally, they arrived at her place, a large Victorian style house on a quiet residential street. "I rent a room here," she told him. "The owner is very nice. Her husband died a few years ago and she rents two rooms to supplement her income. The other boarder is a retired gentleman. The lady was a nurse and so we have nursing care, if we need it."
Jim frowned. Okay, he could see where that might concern a retiree, but someone her age wouldn't normally worry about having a nurse close by. "Well, it looks like a nice place. I wasn't even aware of this neighborhood, so it must be a very quiet, safe area."
"I like it," she said cheerfully.
Jim slipped out and walked around, opening her door for her. "Well, thanks for having breakfast with me," he told her. "I'm not used to such good company…in fact, I'm really not used to company at all."
She smiled at him. "Could we…I mean, if it wouldn't be a bother…maybe we could do it again?"
"Honey, you're not a bother. But I don't think it's a good idea. I'm not sure what you see in me, but you need to look at someone better for you. Don't waste your time on me."
Her face fell and he could see the beginnings of tears in her eyes. He suddenly felt like a real heel. "I'm sorry, Honey, but I'm just too old and too…cynical for you."
She sniffled and then she looked up at him. "I don't think you would ever hurt me on purpose and I know what you are doing and why…but….I think you are wrong." And then she bolted for her front door. Jim stood there, his heart in his stomach, and watched her as she went inside. Then taking a deep breath, he got back in his car and headed home.
BRASSROCKSBRASSROCKS
I'm beyond excited! Two of my stories got nominated in the LJ 2009 CSI fanfic Awards and one was a Brass one, Leap of Faith. Both stories are up agains some awesome stories by other writers so I don't expect to win, but I truly appreciate the nominations.
As for this story, I forgot to beg for reviews when I first posted and still got some wonderful ones. Thanks! Also, I need to mention that this story will be a little different for me, not too much...just a little. I hope you enjoy the ride. Please review and let me know what you are thinking as it unfolds. I will tell you that the story behind the OC is based on a true story that happened a few years ago where I live.
