A/N: I've loved having time to update these past few nights…but this is the last chapter until next week, as I am working tomorrow and going away without Internet access for the long weekend…your reviews and reader support have been just terrific…thought a lighter chapter was needed after all that angst…this update sets the stage for the next story twist…hope it pleases…more as soon as possible...all mistakes are mine…thanks for your patience!... –Kathy
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A referee.
A long, somewhat illustrious, career in law enforcement to his credit, and yet he'd spent the last 24 hours doing nothing more than finagling and finessing in an effort to keep Grissom and Sara from enduring any added stress.
Brass sighed as he took a second sip of Scotch which he had poured into a shot glass – just enough of a jolt to relax his tension somewhat without fully unwinding.
He was operating on a few hours sleep here in his office, having brought Sara and Gil back to his own home as Grissom had refused to allow them to force Sara to stay overnight for observation.
Now as he sat staring longingly at the empty mini-glass, however, Jim suddenly pulled open his desk drawer and tossed it in next to the bottle that he kept hidden for "emotional emergencies", slamming the lid with a flourish before he gave into the temptation to lick the shot glass clean.
His fingers drummed the desktop distractedly, his eyes unfocused as he recalled what a helluva time the last 12 hours had been…
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At the crime scene, wanting to give Gil and Sara a moment, Jim strode quickly towards the ambulance as it shut off its engine.
When it rains, it pours he thought as he watched the crew disembark.
"Hold it!" Brass spoke with authority as his hands waved a negative message in front of him.
"Oh, it's you," Hank spat as he moved to disregard the directive and step around the detective.
Using the paramedic's momentum, Brass grabbed onto the sleeve of Hank's uniform and spun him around effectively blocking his forward motion.
"You're not going in there now," Jim spoke a bit louder, his tone making Hank's partner retreat to the cab to phone their dispatcher.
"You can't stop me," Hank growled as he jerked his sleeve from the older man's grip,"my job it to tend to the wounded and injured."
In his patented disarming tone, Brass regained the upperhand in the conversation by putting on a jovial smile and glaring at the idiot before him.
"Okay, how about I just shoot you in the foot and you can take care of yourself while I call for your backup?"
Hank was taken aback, silencing him enough for his partner to speak as he climbed down from the cab to reclaim his mute partner's kit.
"Dispatch is sending over another squad that's wrapping up a non-transport case in the vicinity. ETA's about 10 minutes."
Satisfied that Sara was not in serious condition, Jim was comfortable waiting for the alternate unit to arrive.
"Well," he sighed without removing his unblinking glare from Hank's still mute form, "guess this party's over, eh?"
Twenty minutes later, Jim had escorted the EMTs to the room where Sara lay resting as she curled on her side hiding her face in Grissom's shirt as he knelt protectively over her.
The lead paramedic's request for him to allow them access was met with Gil's terse, "I'm not leaving her."
Glancing over at Brass for some expected help in relocating this gentleman, the detective realized by Gil's posture that Sara needed him close by.
"Hey, let's just work on the other side of the table, capice?" he spoke calmly as he guided the paramedic gingerly around Sara's prone body.
The EMT nodded in a begrudging fashion, essentially ignoring Grissom while he went about taking Sara's vitals.
She refused to answer any questions, merely nodding or softly shaking her head against the security of Gil's strong grip on her shoulders as he had now eased her onto her back for a cursory exam.
When Sara flinched as the EMT pressed lightly on the blood encrusted wound that was now turning an ugly purple along most of her hairline, Gil swatted away the examiner's hand shouting, "You're hurting her!"
"Sir," the medic began, but a clearing cough behind him caused him to merely exhale deeply and continue his triage.
Flicking the light into Sara's eyes, the EMT moved closer to Sara to examine the pupil reaction.
But his proximity to her personal space caused her to tense in Gil's embrace.
This time, Grissom merely glared at the man as he pulled Sara a bit closer to him, ensuring that everyone could read the subtle message of his body language.
Noting the bloody bruising of the grafted skin around both her wrists and neck area, the medic reached out to grasp her arm for closer inspection.
The feel of another man's hands on her body was more than enough to push Sara over the edge.
"No! Get away from me! Don't touch me! DON"T TOUCH ME!"
All three men in the room were startled by Sara's desperate cry as her feet began to kick out defensively.
Gil's heart raced as he literally scooped Sara off the table and turned her towards the door.
The paramedic's move to block him was stymied by Brass moving in front of them both, separating them from each other and blocking both of their access to the door.
"She needs transport to the hospital, sir!"
"I'll take her there on my own. She's not in any condition to have you groping her!"
"Gil – you took my car, remember?"
The impasse pressed upon these three strong willed men for only a moment before Sara stirred in Gil's arms.
Sighing, Brass opened his communicator to report he was on his way to Desert Palms with an injured woman, requesting they alert the ER to their arrival.
The EMT scowled at being overruled, but Jim had bigger problems to worry about than the man's ego.
Ignoring Grissom for a moment, Brass moved behind Sara as he uttered in his most fatherly tone, "Hey, kiddo…let's get you something for that head injury, okay?"
He relaxed when he saw her nod slightly against Grissom's chest, causing the night shift supervisor to tighten his grip on the woman he loved before heading out the door with Brass still running interference with the argumentative paramedic.
The distance to the hospital was short as Jim continued to glance at the couple in his rear view mirror, neither of his passengers even aware that someone else was riding in the cruiser with them.
"Sara?" Gil asked worriedly as she refused to look at him despite his attempt to pull her back enough to examine her wounds.
She had not spoken since her outburst, a fact that worried both men enough to make the short ride seem interminably long.
Their arrival at the ER found a situation similar to that which Sara had just endured at the crime scene.
Once inside the treatment room, she was refusing to loosen her deathgrip on Grissom, and he was refusing to be separated from her.
Again Brass sighed mentally before placing thumb and forefinger between his teeth and whistling loudly, his actions causing all players in this drama to come to a standstill.
After flashing his badge and requesting that all medical personnel please step out into the hall, he cajoled the senior resident into personally handling the care of this injured woman who had just lived through a torturous experience.
Once he escorted the doctor back into the room, Brass turned off the overhead light immediately after the doctor clicked on the examination lamp of the bedpost.
The calmer environment seemed to soothe all parties, and the doctor showed surprising compassion for Sara's situation.
His bedside manner helped relax Grissom's anxiety, which in turn comforted Sara into allowing the most basic care to her head wounds and wrist lacerations.
Now bandaged and given something for pain which the doctor assured Sara would not incapacitate her, knowing that she had been drugged during her ordeal, the physician clicked off the light which caused the room to be enveloped in a soft glow.
Brass escorted the doctor outside to discuss his findings. Overall Sara seemed to escape her ordeal with only the physical injuries he had noted.
By law, of course, a full SAE kit was ordered and Jim again requested that a CSI perform the mandatory tests.
Seeing at how well the detective had called the shots so far, the physician agreed and Brass made the call, requesting Catherine to come and do the testing.
Imagine his irritation with Ecklie when a short fifteen minutes later, Sofia walked through the door of the ER , kit in hand, ready to comply with Brass' request.
Shit, he thought before redirecting Sofia's forward motion to a side hallway.
"Where's Catherine?" he asked a bit testily, could this nightmare get any worse?
Sofia scoffed at Brass and picked up her kit.
"Ecklie personally came to the breakroom and told me to get myself over here. "
Moving into Brass' personal space, she narrowed her eyes and said, "And here I am. Now, where's this victim?"
Victim.
Hearing those words referencing Sara was the cause of great heartache for this man who loved her as if she were his own daughter.
To hear those words spat out in a possessive temper tantrum was almost too much for Jim to bear.
But before he got into a heated debate with Sofia over this issue, the matter was settled when a strong, emotional voice behind them spoke.
"I'll collect the kit myself."
Both Sofia and Brass wheeled around to find a sorrowing Grissom steeling himself for the task ahead.
"Gil-" Jim began, then as if he just remembered, he spun on his heels as he grabbed Sofia's kit. and after setting it down beside his feet, now pointed to the waiting room, brusquely intoning: "You can wait over there for a minute, Sofia."
Glaring at Brass, her countenance changed completely as she smiled empathetically at Gil, almost expecting that he would overrule Jim's decree.
As he said nothing, however, Brass moved and literally helped Sofia on her way.
When he turned back to continue his conversation, the hallway was empty.
Sighing deeply, Jim moved quickly to intercept Grissom , now carrying Sofia's kit, before he reentered Sara's room.
"I'm doing this," Gil said with an uncharacteristic hesitation in his voice, as if he were forcing himself to perform a heinous act.
"You can't, Gil. You're too close. The evidence-"
Wheeling angrily as his emotions were spilling over, "Nobody touches her but me!"
The two men locked eyes for a lengthy moment.
Brass internally warred with himself:
-On one hand, if the DA found out that the kit was run by someone close to the victim, the evidence might be considered tainted and unreliable, and therefore inadmissible in court.
-On the other hand, Jim really couldn't find his way to allowing anyone – particularly Sofia -to get that intimate with Sara at this point and time.
"Let me call Catherine myself," Jim tried again to make Gil understand the necessity of the request.
As Gil began to protest, Brass held up his hand with a compromise.
"Let Catherine do it, Gil…Sara's going to need you for moral support, right? You can hold onto her until the blasted kit is collected."
Reluctantly, Grissom agreed as he left the kit with the detective and returned to Sara's bedside
Once again, Brass had used his experience, his people skills, and his loyalty to this impromptu CSI family to ward off the conflict that threatened to engulf these people he truly cared about ...
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Allowing himself one more stretch, Brass pumped some breath spray into his open-mouth and pushed away from his desk.
Pulling a water bottle from his office cooler, he snapped off the cap and took several gulps before tossing it back in and dragging himself to the door.
Hand on the doorknob, Jim forced the images of Sara as he found her in the basement of that abandoned building.
It was time to switch off the peacekeeper mode and turn on the master interviewer.
Old Jim was waiting for him in interrogation.