Chapter Eleven

Tuesday for Jim went as Iris had outlined. He'd slept even better than the night before and his strength was improving but he still took care not to overdo it. Brass was astonished he found himself looking forward to having her come over. She could be heard singing to the CD's she'd brought as she worked in the kitchen or did other light house work. He was getting exposure to the music she liked and it ranged from the sixties to the nineties mostly, finding many tunes in common to his own tastes. She was now back to work on dinner and he heard the thudding beat of Donna Summer's "Hot Stuff."

Brass thought the song appropriate for kitchen activities and could smell great aromas that gave the house a homey atmosphere. He decided he wanted to see Iris in action so made his way to the kitchen. He started to walk in when what he saw caused him to stop and back up slightly. Jim's view was unobstructed but he in turn couldn't be seen and that's how he wanted it for the moment.

Iris was in a groove zone as she was in her own private disco. She was swaying with her back to Brass at the stove as she checked pots and pans, then opened the oven door briefly. She turned and sang "hot, hot, hot ssstttuufff" in unison with Donna while she danced provocatively and, Brass had to admit, kind of sexily about his kitchen. Dang, all she needed was a pole, he thought, eating would never be boring at her place!

The song ended as Iris did a shimmy with her dish towel and then she heard clapping with a faint wolf whistle. The towel fell from her hands as her face assumed a brilliant hue of rosy pink. She turned away utterly embarrassed as Jim suddenly corralled her between the sink and stove.

"Hey, what gives? Are you PO'd?" Jim asked anxiously.

"No, I'm just flustered you saw me being foolish," Iris admitted with lowered eyes, feeling disconcerted.

"Heh, people on the strip are paying big bucks tonight to eat and see a show. I get quality entertainment and a meal fit for a king, pun intended, and don't have to leave my house," Jim chuckled huskily.

"Ah, well, as I've said one is glad to be service," Iris smiled wanly.

"So what's on for tonight?" Jim asked, pointing at the stove.

"My usual lovin' in the oven," Iris replied, "tonight you'll be sampling my triple shot meat loaf with blue cheese and mushroom, green bean salad, sesame glazed carrots, strawberry shortcake."

"Lovin' in the oven…triple shot meat loaf?" Brass cocked a brow at her.

"I like the Food Channel on cable and one of my favorite shows is called "Down Home With the Neely's" and it's a phrase of theirs that I adopted," Iris shrugged. "The meat loaf is made of ground beef, veal and ground pork."

"When does the lovin' commence?" Jim joked.

"Haha, if you can be patient within fifteen minutes," Iris said and rolled her eyes.

"I'll get the KY Intense Arousal Gel prepped," Jim wisecracked and Iris' response was to snap the kitchen towel at him as he beat a hasty retreat.

Later after a dinner that he'd asked for seconds on everything for and the dishwasher was humming away in the background, Jim and Iris were engaged in a different battle over the chessboard. They each proved to be deep thinkers as they pondered their respective moves in trying to guess the other's strategy.

Iris was reaching for the black knight she'd secretly nicknamed Brass when she saw his piercing gaze. "So you've been on any hot dates since you got here?"

"Uh, well, my love life as such is nil," Iris replied and finished her move, now threatening one of Jim's bishops.

"I know you said your marriage was crappy but how come you never tried again?" Brass inquired, taking his bishop safely out of danger in a diagnonal direction.

"When I decided to become a CSI after David's murder, I committed myself to that goal fully. Time I probably could've devoted to marrying again and trying to start a family but that didn't materialize. I promised myself I wouldn't settle again," she said while her rook boldly went toward Brass' queen.

"What made your marriage crappy? Take a break, your rook's not going anywhere and I could take some of your special tea," Brass stood up and jerked his thumb toward the kitchen.

"Why do you want to know?" Iris stopped him by placing a hand on his chest.

"I listen to people's stories, Iris, part of the territory as a detective. It helps me know a little more about you, come on," Jim encouraged.

"Okay, once upon a time," Iris began.

Over their mugs of tea, Jim listened intently as Iris gave a rundown of how she'd been friends with David since high school. She'd never dated anyone, the proverbial girl friend but never a girlfriend, even having gone by herself to a high school prom so she could say she'd gone. David had graduated from college with an engineering degree and announced he was moving to Dallas. He then asked Iris to marry him, his parents pressuring him to do so for the hopes of grandchildren. David had told her that he couldn't think of anyone else who could "serve in a better capacity" than his dear friend Iris. Confessing she was foolish to think that things would be different after their justice of the peace ceremony, she'd gone to Dallas three months later after David started working for Texas Instruments and had rented their first apartment.

"David and I never shared a bed, never had intimate moments aside from faux public displays of passionless kisses and hugs or holding hands, and then I found something disturbing in a VCR two years into the marriage," Iris said, refilling their mugs, with Jim adding an extra shot of JD.

"David was with another woman?" Brass guessed, taking one shot of JD straight this time.

"Very perceptive, Jim, actually it was a porn tape, so I now could understand part of what his hobby was," Iris said with a sad smile. "It turned out he had quite an extensive library of video smut in the closets and attic of what I thought was our home. I'm not a prude but now I had to struggle with a loveless, sexless marriage with a person who didn't want to be my partner in any way, shape or form."

"What'd you do? You stuck it out for 10 years," Jim said shaking his head.

"I tried to make it work on other levels. I took some beginner cooking classes to make great meals at home, bought items from the Victoria's Secret catalogue, exercised and dieted like a madwoman, kept the house spic-and-span clean. Nothing worked. I'd find phone numbers in his trouser pockets, phone calls I answered would hang up, and then he started to bring his women home with other men he worked with so he could get promotions at TI. I was to prepare a fantastic dinner and then fade into the background and remain invisible unless he needed something," Iris tried to say lightly but Jim could hear a bitter note.

"Why didn't you just divorce the prick? You sure had the grounds to do so," Jim declared.

"I was trying to honor the vows I'd made that were just empty words to him. His parents asked discrete questions about grandchildren and his answer was I was on infertility treatments. We were just legal roommates and I did finally have enough with his multiple infidelities and was looking into filing for divorce in 1994. His visit to his usual convenience store to get a lottery ticket on the same night each week because he was superstitious about such things changed everything…for him and for me," Iris spoke softly.

"Like me, you had to get out of Dodge and start fresh," Jim said and hid a yawn behind his hand.

"Lord knows I'm a sap for romantic stuff like "An Affair to Remember" and the ending of "Sleepless in Seattle" on the observation deck of the Empire State Building where Sam and Annie just meet after sharing a highly intimate look where all is said but not voiced and then he says "We'd better go. Shall we?" That's what I want. Someone who loves me for me, just like how I'd love him back. It's only him and no other. I'd like to show someone my passionate side," Iris sighed deeply as she stirred more honey into her tea.

"Iris, I promise you the guy who gets to have you for his body pillow every night will be the luckiest SOB," Jim stated so seriously Iris began to giggle.

"And you said I had a way with words," she said, shoulders shaking with mirth. "I think we can finish our chess game tomorrow. You need your beauty sleep and I need to get home after your breathing therapy."

X X X X X

Wednesday afternoon Jim was relaxing in his recliner after Iris had made lunch and then left. She would return later to get dinner cooking. They'd decided to leave the chess game as an evening pursuit. Grissom had called to check on him, denying that Iris gave him daily progress reports, insisting he would come by if needed. Brass had said he was improving daily and would be back to work soon and didn't need another mother hen because Iris was filling that role nicely. Grissom had gotten the distinct impression that Brass might be benefitting more from this break from work than he knew. Jim knew Iris went to take her dogs out and also to go care for her horse. Today she'd calmly told him she was taking a fencing lesson to help her get toned back up to participate in amateur matches.

The door bell rang as Jim went to answer it. "Iris, you got a key so let yourself in."

"Nope, I could interrupt an important tryst you were in the midst of and such activity might enhance your recovery," Iris joked.

"I'll leave something on the doorknob if that's the case," Brass said with a toothy smile. "What culinary miracle are you preparing tonight?"

"Oh, tonight's lovin' in the oven menu is spicy fried chicken, baked mac-n-cheese, fried deviled eggs, sweet potato pie," she replied breezily.

Post a dinner his taste buds were still exulting over and several moves into their chess game, Brass scrutinized the board closely. Iris sipped slowly on a glass of wine as she mentally went over possible counter moves.

Jim's face was blank as he suddenly took his queen toward Iris' king. "Checkmate," he announced smugly.

"What?" Iris choked on her wine. "Blast, you're right!"

"Brass one, King zero," Jim crowed.

"Another game, sir, to restore my honor," Iris challenged solemnly.

"Racking 'em up," Brass acquiesced, setting the white and black chess pieces in order.

"Last night we discussed my failures on the Love Boat, so tonight it's your turn to dish on the same," Iris requested. "I'm sure your adventures are hailed far and wide as the stuff of legend."

"Oh you want the long or short list?" Jim snorted.

"I know you're a seasoned veteran of heart wars so whatever you want to disclose I'm all ears," Iris said and assumed a posture of anticipation.

"I can do better than that," he smirked and left the room.

Iris' curiosity meter was like a Geiger counter in her head.

Brass returned with a small wooden chest with a dark patina and aged metal hinges that squeaked faintly when he opened it. A color photograph showing a wide-grinning Brass in a suit, a statuesque woman impeccably dressed with coiffed blonde hair and a thin forced smile, and young girl with brown hair and wide blue eyes wearing a white dress. Jim dropped a gold wedding band on the table with a dull metallic thud. "Meet the wife, Nancy nee Biagio, and that's our daughter Ellie. The ring's a souvenir of bygone so-called wedded bliss. The picture's from Ellie's confirmation. Yeah, that was one of our better days." His tone dripped sarcasm.

"Biagio…Italian…you like passion…go on," Iris urged, refilling her tea mug and Brass' but he only drank another shot of JD.

"I met Nancy after I got out of the marines at Seton Hall when I was going for my degree in history. Her brother was a class buddy of mine who set us up as a blind date. We clicked somehow and got married in 1978 just after I graduated. I'd decided to pursue law enforcement after my stint in the marines because of what was going on socially in the late sixties and early seventies. Later that year I took the Newark Police Academy's four-month course and started as a rookie on the force. Ellie was born on September 24, 1982. I remember it was a Friday when Nancy called dispatch and she told me she was in labor, I was in the middle of a prostitution sting because I was now working in Vice. We barely got to the hospital in time. No man was prouder than me that day," Jim recalled with eyes that looked misty to Iris.

"What made your marriage go south?" Iris asked.

"Well, when I started working Vice, it was clear there were dirty cops so I became involved with helping to clean up the department. Doing the right thing cost me though – earned me enemies with those cops who resigned or faced prosecution, Nancy had an affair with a fellow Vice cop I worked with, and when m world was falling apart I found solace with another cop I worked with named Annie," Jim revealed.

"You had to feel you were going through a literal hell," Iris said, touching his arm sympathetically. "What happened after your divorce and to Ellie?"

"Ellie stayed with her mother, like it should be, and I went on to work my up to being a homicide detective. Annie went on to the Los Angeles PD where she's a captain. Nancy married the cop she had the affair with. Ellie's in her mid-twenties now but she's choosing to live her life makes us butt heads. I finally transferred to Vegas in the 1990's and the rest is history," Jim said with a bitter chuckle and drained his shot of JD in a gulp.

"Ellie's living in a way that contradicts how you tried to raise her?" Iris probed gently.

"Oh, yeah, I'm proud of her being a drug addict and a prostitute, a liar, a manipulator. When I was shot and lying in an ICU bed, she was trolling to find out if I had her as beneficiary on my pension and life insurance. That rolls real well being a cop's daughter," Jim growled acidly.

"It's not in her genes, Jim, it's her choices," Iris said and was going to say something else when Jim's face suddenly darkened in anger.

"She hasn't got my genes," Brass exploded harshly. His face then went pale as a severe coughing spasm ensued, and then turning a reddish-purple as the coughing worsened. He couldn't breathe!

Iris rushed to the bedroom and returned with the nebulizer and an asthma inhaler that hadn't been needed before.

"Inhale this," Iris cried, Jim taking in two deep inhalations as he fought the urge to cough further.

She got the nebulizer going in moments and placed the mask over his mouth and nose. "Breathe in, breathe out, and take as deep a breath as you can."

Jim scowled at her while he obeyed and after five tense minutes his breathing was improved. Iris stayed beside him and asked no more questions, keeping her face neutral. He finally pulled off the mask. "You didn't deserve that, Iris, and I can't believe I said that. I haven't told anyone that about her besides Warrick because he worked a case with me that involved Ellie. I guess his being gone hits me at times I don't expect it to.

"You're saying Ellie's not your daughter biologically, so I'll lay odds that it's whoever Nancy hooked up with and eventually married," Iris deduced quietly. "How did you know?"

"You get a gold star for your investigational skills," Brass said with a thin smile before continuing. "Nancy and I were separated at the time she got pregnant, each of us involved with our significant other. Nancy had stayed on birth control pills without my knowledge because I wanted kids and she wanted kids just not with me. Ellie doesn't know and as far as I'm concerned that's fine because she'll always be my daughter. The so-called father is a real slime and that hasn't changed. He and his team busted for corruption while I was in Newark. I sometimes think Ellie does what she does to keep me PO'd."

"Which makes you all the more determined to be there for her in spite of it," Iris pointed out. "You keep the door open and a candle in the window. You're her dad, you'll always love her. It's what you do."

"Yeah, that's a way to put it," Brass said and reached back into the wooden box to retrieve a hotel key and handed Iris a wallet-sized picture of an attractive woman with long auburn hair and finely classic facial features wearing a police officer's dress uniform. "Annie was the Newark cop who carried me through those tough times. This was the hotel we went to, always the same room, a haven for a little while. I don't know if I gave and she took or if it was the other way around. I only know she helped keep my sanity."

"Your port in the storm," Iris noted.

"I kept the key as the memento," Brass nodded and dropped it back into the box. He now retrieved a silk and lace garter, then gave Iris its companion photo. The brunette was statuesque with a face that stopped men in their tracks, flawless skin and coiffed hair, in a Victoria's Secret lingerie outfit with a beckoning forefinger and vampy "come hither look."

"Behind door number three?" Iris asked with raised eyebrows.

"Anne-Marie Tolsom. I've described her as a force of nature. She was married to another cop. It was a casual fling but a memorable one. I wasn't her only customer either. What can I say? My moral compass was pointing at my fly during those years. She dressed up for me one night wearing a hot leather outfit and she nearly put me in the emergency room. We broke the sound barrier for sure," Jim said, fondly caressing the garter.

"Wow, she's a stunner. I bet she put out some call of the wild," was all Iris could say, "She's sexy, no doubt, but any other entries of note?"

Brass pulled one more item from the box. It was a $25 green poker chip. The photo given to Iris of yet another attractive female with longish light brown hair, tall and leggy . "Uh, I'd have to say Rita Nettles. I met her in a casino parking lot when her car had a dead battery. Needless to say more than that battery got jumped. We hooked up briefly and I swear to God I didn't know she was married at the time. Later on, her husband was a cop working undercover of a biker gang. He got iced during a gang brawl and in the course of the homicide investigation I crossed paths with Rita again. It didn't end well. She turned out to be who snitched to the bikers about him being a UC, so she's serving a life term without parole," Jim twirled the poker chip on the table before it finally stopped spinning.

"You've had, um, interesting travels down lover's lane overall," Iris considered.

"Call it like you see it, Iris, I'm content now going to strip bars and getting lap danced these days when I need it," Jim said with a self-deprecating life. "My relationships all tend to go toxic at some point."

"Well, maybe like the Abba song "Take A Chance On Me", you'll meet the right girl to have a long term intensely emotional and physically satisfying association with who'll keep you stocked in the loving department," Iris said encouragingly.

"Right, that'll happen when I can quit using the Vick's," Brass winked with a husky laugh.

"Uh, it's getting late so I guess our chess game's delayed until tomorrow. Let me do the PDT and obligatory back rub so you have the rest of the evening to yourself," Iris told him.

"Hey, are you mad or something?" Brass queried.

"No, it scared me when you had that breathing difficulty. You're improving by the day so don't take that as a sign you're not. It's an isolated event. It is getting late and I need to get home so my dogs don't leave I-told-you-so's in the garage," she replied.

X X X X X

Thursday morning Brass felt he was settling into a comfortable routine with Iris albeit the unique circumstances it was due to. She'd borrow the newspaper to read the comics after breakfast while she had a slice of cinnamon sugar toast and a cup of hot cocoa. He'd been curious and asked about her ritual and seen her fond smile as she explained it. Seventh grade had a been a turbulent school year, moving three times, finally ending up in a four-room apartment near her grandmother's. She'd stop each morning before school to wait for the bus and her grandmother always had the toast and cocoa ready with the paper so she could read her favorite funnies. Jim now joined her in this morning exercise.

"What lovin' do you have lined up for me tonight?" Brass asked with a mild leer between bites of toast.

"Mon ami, tonight's culinary offering will be shrimp Creole, dirty rice, garlic mashed potatoes, and bananas foster," Iris replied with a fair French accent.

"Iris, when you stop doing this for me, it's going to be a lonely kitchen again," Jim observed with a wry smile.

"I'll be kind of sorry when that time comes but we can do it now and again. I love to cook but it's hard for just one person," Iris responded with a bit of a sigh.

"I'd like that…I mean to have your custom-made dinners once in a while," Jim said with smacking lips.

Jim felt great today in spite of his breathing problem last night. He was taking deep breaths without difficulty. His coughing was reduced and no crackles were heard in his chest when he did cough. He was nursing a Heineken watching a show he and Iris turned out both to be fans of – "Law and Order: SVU" – a scene had caught his attention that he replayed to hear the dialogue between Captain Donald Cragen and Detective Sergeant John Munch:

John Munch: "Explain to me how shmoes like us spend every night at home alone watching the History Channel while a scum like Ramsay has this nice girl's complete devotion? She's so convinced."

Donald Cragen: Well, if there is any karma, Ramsay won't be doing much sitting down in Rikers."

Brass raised his bottle in a salute at the TV screen with a grunt. "To the History Channel and us nice guys finishing last."

"Who's finishing last?" he heard the door open as Iris came in laden with grocery bags. He'd come to know she preferred fresh foods and ingredients for when she cooked for them. He put the remote on the end table and went to meet her.

"I was watching L&O:SVU," Brass relieved her of most of the bags as they went into the kitchen.

"Shoot, you should've waited so we could both watch," Iris scolded. "No matter I'll be busy in here as it is."

"Let me help, I feel the best yet and I'm starting to get cabin fever as it is," Jim insisted.

"Okay, sounds like a plan," Iris agreed.

Jim was true to his word and followed her directions to the letter, finding they worked well together in a kitchen setting. When everything had been prepped and in progress of cooking, Brass told her he was going out to the koi pond to feed Jaws and the rest of the fish.

"Good idea! I'll water the plants while you do that," Iris said, wiping her hands on an apron.

Brass was relaxing in his chaise lawn chair by the pond. Iris was nearby with her back from him as she sprayed the plants with a water wand. He was suddenly overcome with a mischievous thought and debated acting on it, and then he gave into the carpe diem impulse.

A sudden drenching spray of cold water caught Iris totally unaware. She yelped in surprise and turned to see Brass with a guilty grin holding a garden hose with a jet nozzle. Her eyes narrowed as she turned the setting on the sprinkler wand to full blast and gave Brass a similar treatment as she advanced on him. He saw storm clouds brewing and they weren't in the sky but in the brown eyes approaching his. To his shock and dismay, Iris pulled the elastic band of his cargo shorts open and forced the wand in! She stepped back with a full blown smirk of satisfaction and turned on her heel to head into the house. Not to be outdone, Brass caught her in a gentle flying tackle that took them to the ground where he pinned her arms above her head.

"I win," he said smugly.

"Bull hockey," Iris said between clenched teeth, struggling with all her might to displace him.

"I still win," Jim chuckled and proceeded to tickle her.

He had no way to know Iris was hypersensitive to this as she turned into a bucking bronc beneath him. A rough and tumble tussle ensued between them, Iris squealing from Jim's continued tickle attack. The ground beneath them turned into a mix of sandy mud and grass where Iris had been watering. Jim succeeded in pinning Iris again but decided to have pity on her and quit the tickling.

Iris was breathing hard, her face nearly buried in the crook of his neck before he pulled up on one elbow to regard her. "I had no clue you were so ticklish."

"I don't advertise it, not that I've been tickled lately," Iris said nearly breathless. Her eyes were a light brown he saw at that moment. Their faces were very close. If Iris started to get the wrong idea like he might, he pulled away from her suddenly.

"We're behaving like hormone-crazed teenagers," Brass said hastily and stood up, pulling Iris to her feet also. "Here I go and get sopping wet while trying to get over bronchitis; yeah, I'm a smart guy!"

"Aw, you were just in a playful mood and got me good so we had a free for all like we would when we were kids with our siblings," Iris pointed out, wringing out her top and not seeing Brass' relieved look.

"It's not like that neither of us can afford a work fling which I stay away from these days," Brass maintained.

"A work fling? No worries because I'd refuse to be anyone's temporary. I'd only avail myself for the long haul," Iris insisted and then lamented. "These are my only clothes and I've got our dinner to finish!"

"Damage control, Iris, take off your clothes…," Jim started to say.

"I thought you were out on a work fling," Iris interjected slyly.

"Funny. If I'd wanted you out of your clothes it'd of happened already," Brass snorted with a roll of his eyes. "Wash your clothes and take a quick shower while I watch over the pots and pans. I'll do the same after you relieve me, then we eat."

A short time later, Iris was wrapped up snugly in Jim's robe, plating their meal as she heard Jim finishing in the shower. She'd been concerned that the dirty rice had overcooked but thankfully it was fine. Her clothes were going through the rinse cycle in the washer. Why didn't she feel embarrassed to be in a man's kitchen making a meal clad only in a robe…his robe? The truth struck her that she felt more comfortable around Brass than she had some men she'd worked with for years at the DPD and she'd known him a fraction of the time. Iris believed they had the makings of a solid friendship and trust being a part of its bedrock.

Brass strolled in still toweling off his head and leaned over her shoulder to sniff at the food she was still plating. "As usual it smells great."

"It'll taste even better," Iris promised while he seated himself.

Over their chess game after dinner, Jim was making mincemeat of Iris' efforts to take his king and she accepted his barely contained exultant "checkmate" with a sour look.

"Come on, I won fair, didn't I?" Jim chuckled.

"Yes, no argument there, a rematch then?" Iris countered.

"What's on for my Friday lovin' in the oven?" Brass changed the subject, wondering if Iris really wanted to play again.

"I'm making for your palate's pleasure chicken fried steak, pea salad, au gratin potatoes, and apple crisp," she replied.

"Is your place ready for company?" Jim threw her a curve ball.

"Um, yes, I've got things unpacked and the house is close to a hundred percent the way I want, why?" Iris glanced at him curiously.

"Because I propose you take me there tomorrow to have dinner. I feel a helluva lot better and I need to get out. Whadaya say?" Jim asked hopefully.

"Okay, you're on," Iris accepted.

"I don't think I need the PDT either but I'll never say no to your back rubs," Jim teased.

"If you ever say at work I rub you the right way, I'm denying it to the ends of the earth," Iris shot back to Brass' raspy chuckles.

The rematch game was a dead heat when Brass' two consecutive yawns caused Iris to declare the game incomplete until they could finish it. She knew he was more tired than he'd say, so she herself be the reason she called it a night.

X X X X X

Brass glanced again at his watch because Iris was punctual and said she'd be there by four o'clock to get him. Friday afternoon was proving to be a particularly gorgeous day. He debated sending out an SOS via text to her cell phone to see if she was okay. Screw it he decided and hit his speed dial as he went to open the front door to look outside again. He was astonished to hear "Brass In Pocket" by The Pretenders playing on the other side of it. Jim opened the door and Iris was standing there trying to silence her phone.

"Is that your ring tone for me?" he asked, pointing at her cell.

"Uh, yeah," Iris replied sheepishly. "I know it's silly but I like The Pretenders and your name's in the song."

"So do I, they're a good group," he shrugged, taking her car keys. "I'm driving if you don't mind."

"I don't but the Excursion's bigger than your Charger," Iris pointed out.

"If it's got four wheels I can drive it." Brass said confidently but saw that not everything on the key ring were keys, in particular four plastic encased quarters that he dangled them at her with a raised eyebrow.

"What can I say, I'm quirky! The quarters are for the states I've lived in of Missouri, Indiana, Texas and now Nevada," Iris shrugged before climbing in the passenger side.

"I never got details on your house," Jim said to go for a different topic of discussion.

"It was built in 2006. I prefer older homes, like the one you have, but since it's just me I figured newer was the way to go for repairs and such. It was a foreclosure and a great deal. It's paid off so I don't have to deal with a mortgage. I view this where I plan to retire one day," Iris told him.

"How could you afford to pay it off?" Jim asked, surprised because he was still paying on his place.

"David's life insurance and his parents sued the convenience store company, which I wouldn't pursue, and it was settled out of court. His parents insisted I take it and make a nest egg of it. I kept in close contact with them until they passed away a few years ago. They never knew about David's extramarital activities, it would've broken their hearts. Bless them both, they even left me in their will since David was their only child. I made some good investments and was careful in my spending. My bank account's healthy," Iris disclosed.

"You picked a good area to buy in with a lot of young families. It'll be a solid neighborhood," Brass observed, pulling the Excursion into the driveway.

"Come on in and get the updated grand tour," Iris invited him in as she unlocked the front door.

The home was what Brass expected after spending more time around Iris. The décor and furnishings were varied types that melded into what Brass would term as cozy and a haven from the outside world. What would have been the formal dining area was a game room an air hockey table, a small billiards table, and an arcade style stand up video game system that she told him had all the fun games from the 70s and 80s but also to the Nintendo and PlayStation generation. Iris had a distinct preference for honey pine wood furnishings he observed. He went through the welcoming committee of Cyrano and Durante before Iris took them to the backyard. On the back patio, under the arbor, Iris pointed out to the bare earth that the bloodhounds were avidly exploring, sniffing and doing other natural things dogs do preferably outside.

"I'm having sod brought in next week to be planted along with other native plants, your backyard gave me some ideas," Iris said before they went back inside with the dogs who she shepherded to the first bedroom. Brass grinned hearing the yelps and whines of protest as Iris returned to the living room.

"You want to play tonight?" Jim noted she had her own chess set and in position to use.

"If you want to after dinner or we could watch a movie," Iris proposed.

"Got any John Wayne?" Brass inquired, thinking she wouldn't.

"You bet! My favorite of his is "The Quiet Man", Maureen O'Hara's the only leading lady who could hold her own with him," Iris replied staunchly and headed toward the kitchen.

"Do you like boxing?" Jim said as he looked over her DVD collection.

"Ah, yes, the sweet science," he heard her respond from the kitchen. "I had a major crush on Rocky and am definitely partial to the sport."

She'd surprised him again and it caused a snort of consternation.

"What'd you say?" Iris came into the living room, mixing up the pea salad in a large bowl.

"Uh, yeah, Duke and dinner with you, what more could I ask for?" Jim laughed weakly.

She tilted her head slightly at him as a faint frown knitted her brow. Her eyes were that amber-brown again. The gesture was a familiar one of hers but it reminded Brass of something else. He couldn't remember what exactly but was sure it would come to him.

"If you don't feel like it, Jim, I understand and I'll drive you home," Iris said.

"No, no, it's all good, Iris. I think it's good to hang out here as a change of pace," Jim assured her. "I feel terrific today, really."

"You'll be able to return to work before you know it," Iris agreed.

"Actually, I think I'd like to try Sunday," he divulged.

"Well, our playing house had to end sometime, didn't it," Iris said breezily with her back to him while she put the pea salad in the fridge to chill. It was just as well so she could mask her surprise.

Brass came up beside her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "I owe you big time, Iris. I couldn't have kicked this without your help. We've become friends. I'd like to spend time with you through Sunday. After that, with you on swing shift and me doing mostly graveyard we won't see much of each other."

"I'd like that, Jim, I value your friendship, Jim, and always will," Iris said amiably and turned to pat his chest.

Later, stuffed again with good food, one chess game in his favor and one in Iris', Jim was relaxing in the leather recliner and Iris was curled up on the love seat next to it as they watched "The Quiet Man."

"Why is this one your favorite John Wayne?" Brass asked her while he'd paused the DVD so she could nuke some popcorn.

"It's a totally different role for him, it's in Ireland with horses and boxing so I'm all in," she said returning with a large bowl.

"Take a little test," Brass said suddenly, pulling an envelope from his back pocket.

"Huh?" Iris raised quizzical eyebrows at him.

Brass moved the chess set slightly so he could lay out three pictures: a sugar-white sandy beach with an azure ocean and two beach chairs under a large umbrella; St. Peter's Square in Rome; a cabin nestled in a forest setting with a cove nearby.

"Look these over and pick where you'd stay at on a vacation," Jim instructed.

Iris carefully looked the pictures over and without hesitation tapped an index finger on the cabin as her choice.

"Why the cabin?" Brass asked with a poker face.

"The beach is beautiful but likely everyone and their brother would be there. St. Peter's Basilica and Square is without question a must-see in Rome for its religious and historical significance to Christians worldwide as well a major tourist site. The cabin I chose because it'd be a place to truly get away with someone if an intimate weekend is to be had where it's just us…I mean them…I mean whoever," Iris said as his eyes held hers before she stammered and her eyes dropped.

"I think I'd choose the cabin and for the same reasons," Jim chuckled.

"You like to fluster me at my expense that's for sure. Can we start the movie please?" Iris sighed and grabbed a handful of popcorn.

At the end of the movie, Iris went to her secretary desk and retrieved a small gift-wrapped box that she presented to him. "Here."

"Uh, Iris, that's nice of you but this isn't necessary," Jim tried to decline.

"It's personalized and can't be returned," Iris said, "so please take it."

Brass opened the box to find a set of seven fine linen white handkerchiefs that were all monogrammed in a bold but sophisticated maroon-threaded script that read "TO JB – ARYT. ICK."

"It translates to "To Jim Brass – Always Remember You're Treasured." The initials of ICK are for Iris Celeste King," Iris said.

"These are great, Iris, way too nice to blow my nose with," Jim protested.

"What better way to think of me by," Iris teased.

"That saying of "always remember you're treasured"?" Jim was curious.

"My grandmother Haven said it and I think one benefits from hearing that when it's true," Iris said.

"Wise lady, so you treasure me, huh?" he asked with a twinkle in his eye.

"Yes, I treasure you and our friendship," she replied promptly, but Brass noted there was a softness in her tone and eyes.

"I bet you took some crap for having the initials of ICK growing up," Jim joked to redirect things, his forefinger tapping the embroidered letters.

"I did indeed," Iris recalled with a grimace, "but now it's a family nick name along with Velma." Her hand clapped over her mouth in surprise.

"Velma? This I gotta hear," Brass said and leaned forward in anticipation.

"Blast, okay, here goes," Iris said with sigh of resignation. She went on to tell Jim her grandmother's wish to name the first grandchild, be it boy or girl. Her grandmother's name was Lillian Violet and she was a lifelong flower lover. Iris' mother had also insisted the middle name be seven letters long and start with the letter "C." Her grandmother chose the name of Celeste, the instrument used in the "Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy" from "The Nutcracker". Velma came along for her uncanny likeness to the cartoon character on "Scooby Doo" and that she was considered the smartest of her siblings. Now working as a crime scene investigator had solidified the moniker as a mystery solver, her family feeling that she was living out her destiny in some ironic way. She finished with saying she always wondered why her grandmother had named her such, both names translating to "Rainbow Heaven."

"You told me about your grandmother's belief about rainbows. She knew you were going to be special," Brass supposed.

"I just don't see myself that way," Iris said and her head tilted again with that curious appraising look at him.

"Gil thinks you are, same with Nick and the rest of the team," Brass insisted.

"Do you?" Iris asked saucily.

"Sure, I'd say to anyone you're a classy package," Brass grinned.

"Better not overdo your first night out and get you home by midnight so you don't turn into a pumpkin. Your breathing's by far the best it's been today. Do you want your back rub here or your house?" Iris decided.

"I vote for here," Jim said and pointed down the hallway. "To the guest room?"

"No, my bed's the most comfortable," Iris said knowingly and lead the way.

"Like the Three Bears story, too soft, too hard and just right," Jim quipped.

Relaxing prone on the king-size bed, Brass felt the room was like the rest of Iris' home and invited you right in. Iris was kneading patiently away on his upper lumbar back, her ministrations having the relaxing effect it usually had.

"Careful, Iris, I could fall asleep here and now," Jim said with a soft grunt as Iris continued her circular motions with her fingers.

"Haha, that'd be all we need, scandalous talk about us, about something's that not there like spending the night together," Iris chuckled. "Massage's over."

"By definition, we are, you know," Jim laughed as he put his shirt back on.

"Um, by definition that we are in the same proximity to one another but not knowing each other in the Biblical sense," Iris clarified.

"Like I said, you have a quirky way of saying stuff," Brass noted, while Iris went to her bathroom to wash her hands.

"I need to put the dogs in the garage before we leave," Iris said walking past him.

"Be right there, nature calls," Jim said and went into master bathroom. It wasn't a kaleidoscope of products he observed as he stood above the toilet. Most women's bathrooms he'd seen had a cornucopia of hair, perfume and make up brands. He noted the bath sponge hung on the shower head with a very slow watery drip. His business concluded, he grunted at the sponge, "Trade you day jobs."

Iris was in the garage with the dogs where Brass joined her. To his surprise he saw a punching bag suspended from the ceiling, boxing gloves on a nearby work table and a black motorcycle parked.

"You box?" he asked incredulous.

"I like to work out using a routine of boxing and kickboxing exercises. It keeps self-defense skills sharpened because you never know," Iris revealed matter of fact. Brass realized she was referring to her being kidnapped by Max.

"I get that. What about the motorcycle – an older Kawasaki?" Brass asked with an admiring glance at it.

"My '84 Kawasaki 550 LTD, belt drive, purrs like a kitten, one of the few good things of being with David," Iris smiled as Jim ran his hand over the saddle seat. "Do you ride?"

"I did mostly when I was a rookie patrolman. I've ridden a friend's Harley a few times since living here to keep my riding skills up," Brass said with a fond look.

"You should do it more often. Anytime you want to borrow the beast let me know. You might even dare to take me along," Iris said encouragingly, tossing Jim the keys to the Excursion drive to his house.

X X X X X

Brass knew on Saturday Iris was going to be out at the stable where her horse Kyrie was boarded and it was also where Stokes kept his horse, Whiskey. Their dual job role of being a CSI and a mounted patrol officer for the Clark County Sheriff Mounted Posse Search and Rescue he just had to attribute to their Texas influences. Walking into the main barn, he wondered if he had to be careful where his feet were but the place overall was quite clean. His nose wrinkled slightly at the smells of horse apples but the pungent smell of fresh hay helped balance the nasal assault. A placard identified the stall numbers and the name of the horses and their owners. Number eight was the one he needed to find.

Iris was stacking a bale of hay in front of it and her back was to Brass. He was sorely tempted to sneak up on her until he saw the hay hook she'd used on the bale and still held. Brass thought maybe not a good plan of action.

"Hi, Iris," he said instead behind her.

She was wearing a straw cowboy hat, jeans, boots, a short-sleeve cotton T-shirt and a headband to keep the sweat out of her eyes. Iris spun on her heel and tilted the brim of the hat back in surprise to face him. "Jim Brass, as I live and breathe, what brings you here?"

"Wow, you smell, I mean you smell nice…er..great…you know what I mean!" Jim said and thought "foot in mouth toes and all."

"Oh, I have to be smelly, sweaty for sure, but maybe you smell "passion d'iris" custom made for me in Dallas," she laughed heartily.

"It smells like coconut and something else, something familiar," he scratched his head in thought.

"You have a sensitive proboscis, smelling coconut and warm ginger," she grinned up at him.

"It makes me think of sex on the beach," he wisecracked.

"The drink?" Iris frowned.

"Nope, sex on the beach," he clarified slyly.

"Oh," Iris could only say, lips pursed into a small "O" shape.

A gray horse with dark black mane poked its head through the stall door when she laughed to direct a friendly nicker at Brass.

"Jim, meet Kyrie," she introduced him and put a sugar cube in his hand. "Give it to him palm flat up and he'll be your new BHF."

"BHF?" Jim cocked an eyebrow doubtfully at the horse.

"Best horse friend, silly," she said, "go ahead, do it."

Still unsure, Jim followed through with her instructions and offered the horse the sugar cube. He was surprised to feel soft lips like velvet delicately pick up the sugar cube as the horse crunched up the treat.

"Kyrie, huh," Brass said to the horse who, surprisingly, made a vigorous nodding response and like "Mr. Ed" with a tonguing motion. "This guy can't lack for action with the lady horses with a tongue like that."

"He knows his name, Jim, and he's popular with the mares but as a gelding can't do much. You should come up some time and I'd take you for a ride," Iris grinned.

"Iris, gelding or not, as long as it works is what matters. You know other men could take that the wrong way about you taking them for a ride," he warned her.

"You're not other men and the offer still stands since you know the context," Iris said over her shoulder.

The rest of Saturday was spent hanging out at her house, eating another wonderful lunch and dinner, playing chess, watching some Law and Order: SVU episodes on her DVR, and then he'd suggested going out to the Lucky Strike Lanes to bowl and also show her how to play pool because she never had played. He'd been victorious in the bowling and pool but Iris was also gracious about it. She'd said she'd hone her skills and kick his butt in the future.

Back at her home he was now stretched out comfortably on Iris' extremely comfortable bed, her back massage in progress as she took an extended time to pay extra attention to turn it into a full body massage. Brass made frequent ahs as she methodically tackled every muscle group, telling her that she was achieving the desired result of making him the most relaxed he'd been in, well, years. To her surprise, he was so relaxed that when she'd finished washing her hands and arms and came back into the bedroom he'd fallen asleep and was snoring. She again noted the tattoo on his right upper arm and it looked something like a snowflake with the name Snow in it. Her curiosity was patent and she'd wanted to ask him its significance but left it alone.

Jim woke up with a languorous stretch from a particularly vivid dream involving Officer Triana where their intimate activity was going to be in the top ten on his list of "when he did it" but it was odd because at the end of it she started to dissolve and change into someone else or so it seemed. He knew he was still at Iris' place and he could hear music playing faintly. It was now dark outside and he looked at his illuminated dial on his wristwatch – 10:30 PM – he'd been asleep for hours! Jim took a deep breath and no cough resulted. There was still a hint of faint crackle in the depths of his lungs but the degree of congestion was vastly improved. The energy level he had prior to getting sick was fully restored. He felt like a million bucks…even better than before he got sick. Was this the secret recipe – home cooked food, herbal tea, respiratory treatments and daily massages?

He got up and left the bedroom wondering where Iris was. Her dogs were in the hallway like they'd been keeping guard over him. They arose with faint whines but Jim gave them each a scratch behind the ears and they padded quietly behind him. The last thing he wanted was them racing through the house, maybe Iris was taking a nap herself.

In the living room, he found a sight he didn't expect. Candles were lit throughout giving the room as Iris danced alone in front of the stereo holding a glass of wine that she took occasional sips from. The different light combined with the faint but pleasant aroma of musk and spices by the candles created a very romantic atmosphere Brass thought. The first song playing was Bob Seger singing "Night Moves," followed by Percy Sledge's rendition of "When A Man Loves A Woman," then Aretha Franklin's "You Make Me Feel Like A Natural Woman" and then the Four Tops "Ain't No Woman Like the I Got." Brass just stood and leaned against the door frame of the living room, taking care that his vantage point was concealed in the shadows. She'd put down the wine glass after "Night Moves" and was still doing her dance with an invisible partner while now making gestures and singing in a low sultry alto with the next three songs. Her eyes were closed and he made sure he remained a silent observer staying back in the dark doorway. She was definitely into each song and throwing out a vibe he hadn't believed she had – it radiated a craving, a wanting, a needing coupled with an innocent sensuality he felt strongly. At the end of the last song, she drained her glass of wine and went to the stereo and turned it off. She looked at the grandfather clock and gasped, "Holy crap, he's going to kill me I let him sleep this long!"

Iris turned to go to the hallway and Brass stepped out to meet her. Her startled response was to drop the wine glass that shattered on the hardwood floor. Iris' dark eyes went dark and huge. "Jim!"

"Don't move! You're in bare feet," he commanded. He turned on the living room lights and walked by her to the kitchen and returned with a broom and dustpan. The glass fragments were large and easy to spot and it didn't take long to make sure he'd swept everything up. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you!"

Iris went to blow out the candles but Jim stopped her and pointed to the couch. He turned out the living room main overhead light and sat by her. She was trying to figure him out, he could tell by her puzzled expression and knew her mental gears had to be going in overdrive. "I like a candlelit room now and again."

"Be truthful, how long were you spying on me?" she asked.

"Spying? No way! I woke up after your awesome massage which put me out. I heard the music and came to find you. I was surprised to see you in this setting but it was interesting. Was that sign language you were using?" Jim insisted, feigning a wounded look at her question of being spied on.

"I get in a silly romantic mood every so often. I'll put on tunes that set my mood, light candles and turn off the lights, slow dance with a glass wine and even sign the lyrics. I know pretty cheesy, huh," Iris said and pulled her knees up under her on the couch.

"So this is how a day with you could end, candlelit slow dancing? No, I don't think it's cheesy. I'd call it special for whoever that guy is who gets to share it with you. Who could that be?" Jim responded but she thought there was a challenge there.

"Believe me, Jim, I wouldn't do it with any guy, just the right guy," Iris declared firmly.

"Who's the right guy then?" Jim persisted. "You're dancing around the answer, pun intended."

"There's no right guy, not yet, but there will be. I'm sure of it," Iris said with her chin up resolutely.

"Well, you came to the right place to take a gamble," Jim laughed and the tension that seemed there evaporated. "I need to go but that was a nice little show you put on. Could you teach some basic language?"

"Sure, I'll teach you," Iris agreed, walking him to the door where he bid her good night and headed out to his car. She waved as he drove off and then shut the door. The house seemed very empty to her even as she locked up and went with the dogs to her room. She lay on the other side of the bed and the outline of Brass' body was still present. Iris could smell his cologne mixed with his personal scent. She sighed and turned over, sleep now? Staring into the dark, she thought that was a laugh…a show he'd called it.

X X X X X

This Sunday he'd driven alone in his Charger and today he believed he was almost over the bronchial pneumonia with only an occasional residual cough to remind him. His strength was back and he felt ready to get to back to work. Iris had come to his aid without asking for anything in return other than the benefit of their solidifying a firm friendship. Jim was going to miss the meals and playing chess and, especially, the massages from her miracle fingers.

Her Sunday morning was spoken for as Iris had gone to church and Brass admired her commitment to her beliefs. She wasn't hesitant about sharing it but she also wasn't in-your-face about it either. It was a facet of hers that you just accepted and appreciated. It had also prodded him thinking that he was long overdue for confession and he could hear the parish priest commenting about it when he next went to Mass. Iris had presented him with a door key a few days ago to his surprise, telling Brass that if there was ever an emergency she wanted him to have access to the house. He'd been touched by her childlike trust in him that seemed unwavering.

Jim had noted that some of the drawers were sticking badly in the kitchen and had wanted to remedy it before Iris got home from service. Beforehand he'd secretly made notes on the types of slide brackets and gone to Home Depot, the sales helper there commending him on his willingness for the husbandly responsibility of "honey do's." Jim had grunted some appropriate answer and left, irritated that he was not the "husband" here but just trying to repay Iris in a small way for her kindness to him. He'd pulled out the affected drawers, removed the contents and was working when Iris arrived.

"Jim, what on earth!" Iris exclaimed as she came into the kitchen from the garage.

"I wanted this done before you got here…to surprise you," Jim said, chagrined.

"Oh Mylanta, I am, I figured I'd have to have a handyman come out, thank you so much," Iris said in a breathless rush as Brass found himself wrapped in an enthusiastic hug from her.

"Let me know first, will ya? There're other things I can do besides being a detective," Brass chuckled down at her, while she hastily released him.

"You're a gem," Iris declared, stepping back, but he saw the faint rosy blush tinting her cheeks.

"Doesn't take much to make you blush does it?" he observed as a smile quirked at his lips.

"No and believe me I view it as a negative trait of my physiology," Iris complained.

"I don't. I mark it down as part of what makes you who you are," Jim shrugged.

She gave him a brilliant smile with a rare show of her dimples. "How late can you stay so I know how long I have to whip up some dinner?"

"I need to be able to get home and clean up. I'd like to be there early since I've been out so long," Jim said.

"No problem, you'll be good to go by five o'clock," Iris promised.

"You know, Iris, this week's been unique for us to say the least. I'll extend this invitation - dance at my wedding or your wedding whichever comes first," Jim said while he struggled with an uncooperative slide bracket.

"You'd give marriage another try?" Iris was caught off guard by his comment.

"Who knows? I'd like to think someone would give me a chance," he grunted and then swore when he couldn't get the drawer to go in and he ended up with pinched fingers.

Iris went to help him by holding the other side stable so equal force could be used to ease the drawer in so Jim could check its tracking. "I'm sure there are plenty of ladies out there of the type you prefer who'd line up."

He gave her a scrutinizing look. "Yeah, like who?"

"Um, well, any of the long, leggy and luscious beauties who catch or have caught your eye, like Catherine or Sara, for instance. I saw a picture of her in Grissom's office," Iris said cautiously.

"Hell, Iris, Catherine's a close friend who I've worked with for years and sure there's been harmless flirting off and on. It's part of that friendship, nothing more or to it. Sara's another friend who I've got a definite friendly rapport with along with some private things in common. She's also Gil's special someone and that's a line I'd never cross," Jim's irritated response was clear. "I'm a man, I've got eyes, they're definitely lovely, but they're my friends and that's all."

"Sorry, Jim, I meant no harm," Iris said contritely.

"It's okay. I just want to be clear about it. Unfortunately for me that line you mentioned hasn't materialized yet," Brass sighed.

"Maybe you should revamp your palate?" Iris suggested.

"Huh?" Brass countered.

"I mean take into account other types of women who could appeal to you if you gave them the opportunity," Iris clarified.

"Oh, settle, you mean?" Brass retorted.

"No, genius, just expand your horizons a bit and be open to possibilities. You might be pleasantly surprised," Iris said tartly.

"I'll take that under advisement, Dear Abby," Jim considered then crowed in satisfaction as the drawer slid in and out with ease.

"Does this mean I can call on you whenever I have a home repair issue?" Iris said now with a pronounced southern drawl and batting eyelashes and held a hand to her forehead in mock distress.

"Yes, Miss Scarlett, I will be your Colonel Fix-It Rhett at all hours," Jim responded with the best southern drawl he could affect, as Iris pretended to faint and he caught her.

"I will hold you to that pledge, sir, until the end of your days," Iris giggled up at him.

"And I will hold you to the same, madam, of being my personal masseuse," Brass replied before he broke up in laughter at their little tableau.

"Our mothers must've loved "Gone With the Wind," she snickered while his own chuckles continued.

She took the time before dinner to show him sign language 101 and he quickly picked up on how to do the alphabet and several word signs that would allow for basic conversation.

"What's the sign for I love you?" he asked as he was still working to master the last sign she'd shown him.

"Um, why do you need to know that one?" she asked blandly but her face couldn't hide her curiosity.

"The songs you were signing to were all romantic so I figure you used it and I wondered what it looked like," he shrugged indifferently but her face had been a dead giveaway.

"Here, give me your right hand," Iris requested and moved his hand into the finger position to place over his heart.

"Like this?" Brass said and performed the same to place over her heart.

"Yes, just like that," Iris replied neutrally but inside her heart rate was preparing to go supersonic.

Dinner followed later of chicken and dumplings, green bean casserole, rice and chocolate ice cream with rice krispies – like a Nestle crunch bar she'd told him and did taste like it he was surprised to find. Her sweet tea was nuclear, Nick had warned him, but she raised a glass to his toast as he did the same of "To friendship."

She gave him the back massage he'd come to expect now and he nearly fell asleep like he'd done last night. Five o'clock came too soon for Iris when Jim told her it was time for him to go. She walked him to the door. "What a week, huh? I'm glad you're so to being all well. I have to say I got a bit used to the routine we've shared and I'll miss it a little."

Brass found her tone had a faint catch in her voice. He gave her a brief hug and followed it with a spontaneous kiss to her forehead. "You're as solid with me as Gil, Catherine, Sara, Nick, or even Greg – they're my friends and my family."

She looked up at him with eyes that were large, dark and moist, along with a tremulous smile. "I feel the same about you and them."

"It's good ground to put new roots in," Brass said. He got to enjoy one last back massage before he left.