A/N: Thanks so much for all the reviews! It's such a rush to know that people are actually reading and taking the time to let me know. I really appreciate it!
I have to add a little disclaimer. My friend, Merc, was very kind to give the entire story a read and point out all my goofs but as I've been posting, I've been doing a lot of tweaking so any goofs you might find are all mine.
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Motel 6 Parking LotCatherine didn't have to ask how it went as Brass eased himself into the truck; she could see it all over his face.
"How about I buy you lunch?"
"Thanks but can I have a rain check?" He'd felt a twinge in his upper back when he got up from the chair back at Ellie's. Halfway around the pool and the pain kicked into high gear. He'd wanted to keep a clear head when he saw Ellie so he'd skipped the pain meds but right now all he wanted to do was pop a pill and lie down.
She started to make a crack about Jim Brass turning down a free meal but a single glance his way kept her quiet. He didn't have to say why; she could see the exhaustion and lines of pain on his face. "Sure. I'll take you home."
The drive to Jim's house took nearly an hour in traffic. By the time they arrived, his elbow was resting against the door, his hand was propping up his head, and his eyes were closed.
"Jim," Catherine said, giving his thigh a gentle nudge.
He jumped at the touch and for a moment, couldn't quite place his surroundings.
"You're home." Catherine shut off the engine and unbuckled her seatbelt, making it very clear she was going to see him inside.
He didn't feel much like arguing. Besides, Catherine had his key in the lock and the front door open before he'd even managed to get out of the truck. Earlier, when he'd seen Ellie, he felt pretty good but now, as the day progressed, he could feel a dull, aching fatigue settling deep within his bones.
He managed to get onto the front porch and out of the hot sun but from the way his head was swimming, he didn't think he could take another step without passing out. "I think I need help," he said, leaning heavily against the doorframe and praying the room would stop spinning.
Slipping her arm around his waist, she led him into the living room, out of the oppressive heat, and settled him into an overstuffed chair. "You overdid it."
Her voice sounded far away, like she was in another room instead of standing right next to him. "Yell at me later. I'm gonna be sick."
Catherine rushed into the kitchen and found a cold bottle of water in the refrigerator. Unscrewing the top, she shoved it into his hand. "Drink this."
He did, taking a few sips at first, then draining half the bottle. Closing his eyes, he sat quietly for a few minutes as the feeling passed.
Sitting on the ottoman in front of him, Catherine glanced around the room. She'd picked Jim up or dropped him off several times in the past but she'd never actually been inside his place.
It was a nice single story house tucked away on a quiet residential street in Henderson. The living room with its big screen TV, bookcases full of sports memorabilia, a few pictures and an impressive array of books, definitely needed a woman's touch but then, so did Brass in a lot of ways. Still, the place, including the kitchen, was appropriately masculine, very comfortable, and surprisingly neat, something she really didn't expect from a single guy like Brass.
Brass opened his eyes, surprised to find her still there.
"Better?"
"A little." He still felt weak and tired but at least the world was standing still.
"Come on," she said, helping him up and gently wrapping an arm around his waist. "Let's get you into bed."
If he hadn't felt so unsteady at that moment, he might have had a very good comeback for her but as it was, he had to let it go.
Slowly and carefully, she guided him down the hallway towards what she assumed to be his bedroom at the end.
"Got your pills?"
He reached into his pocket and handed over a brown plastic bottle and two blister packs.
Easing him onto the bed, Catherine said, "You need to eat something or you'll feel sick all night. Hang on." Heading out of the room, she disappeared into the kitchen, returning a few minutes later with a breakfast bar. "Here," she said, forcing him to take it. "Eat this."
He accepted the bar reluctantly but did his best to finish it. He had to admit, it did make him feel much better.
Once she was satisfied that he had food in his stomach, she handed over one of the pain pills and the rest of the bottled water. "Now take this."
Ordinarily, he would have protested her mothering but right now, he almost welcomed it. He doubted he could have made it this far without her help. Swallowing the tablet with a mouthful of water, he hoped it would take effect quickly. Right now all he wanted to do was crawl into bed and go to sleep.
"I'm okay now." He kicked off one shoe, then the other. "You can take off if you need to."
Catherine shook her head and crossed her arms. "Not until you're all tucked in."
He frowned at her but let it go. There was no way he'd win that argument and besides, he could think of worse things than being tucked into bed by Catherine Willows. It could have been Grissom standing in front of him.
"Well, if you're not going to leave then could you give me a minute to change?"
"Sure but if you're going to change, I think you'll need help getting out of this contraption." She unfastened the Velcro from the immobilizer strap and then gently helped him slip his arm from the sling. As careful as she was, she still caught his sharp intake of breath as his arm moved.
Still holding the sling, she stood by, watching him slowly unfasten the buttons on his shirt before coming to an obvious conclusion. "You realize you can't do this by yourself."
He knew she wasn't just talking about getting undressed and she was right. As much as he didn't want to admit it, there were any number of things he was going to have trouble with but he didn't want Catherine or anyone else taking time out of their schedule to play nursemaid to him. He'd hoped he would be able to handle it on his own. He was wrong. Still, stubbornness kept him from asking.
"I got good neighbors who'll look in on me if I need anything."
"Nice try but you and I both know it's a lie. Working nights doesn't make for good neighbors. I'm betting you don't even know their names."
Smirking, Jim said nothing. He hated it when she was right.
"Look, I know you won't ask for help but you're going to have to accept it. That bandage will need to be changed once a day for at least a week."
He was quiet for several long minutes. "I don't want to put you out but you know my situation. I got no choice but to say yes."
"You're not putting me out. We're friends, right?"
He nodded.
"Well, friends take care of friends."
"So does this mean you're gonna help me get undressed?" He had a slightly curious grin on his face. "Cause I don't think I can unfasten my pants."
Catherine looked skeptical. "You managed most of the buttons okay."
"Just unbuckle, unfasten and unzip. I can do the rest." He pointed at the dresser across from the bed. "Check the left bottom drawer down."
Setting the sling on top of the dresser, she pulled a pair of dark cotton pants with an elastic waist and a button-free fly from the drawer then helped him up. Standing directly in front of him, she reached for his belt then hesitated. "You're not going commando or anything, are you?"
Brass smirked. "No, but if it makes you feel better, you can close your eyes."
Scowling at him, she tried to approach the task with aplomb as she leaned down to help him out of the trousers but the motion caused Jim to take a balancing step forward and her hand to come up instinctively for support. Unfortunately, that support put her hand against part of the very obvious bulge in his boxer briefs.
He let out a startled grunt while she pulled away quickly.
"Sorry," she said, embarrassed and trying unsuccessfully to stifle a giggle.
He smiled at the obvious flush coloring her cheeks. "Cath, ordinarily, I'd be breathing heavy at the thought of being felt up by you but right now Mister Happy ain't feeling so happy."
She stared at him for a long moment then burst out laughing. "Mister Happy?"
"Hey, we all need a nickname," he shrugged.
"Remind me to send Grissom over next time," she said as she pulled the cotton pants over his hips and tried desperately to keep her gaze focused away from his waist.
"You did say you wanted to help. Besides," he said, easing himself onto the bed, "I doubt he'd have your special touch."
Catherine rolled her eyes and sat on the bed next to him. She started to say something about his shirt when she noticed him tense. "Jim?"
For several breathless moments he sat there, holding his left arm against his chest, squeezing his eyes shut against the pain while Catherine recalled what Doctor Kapoor had said about the risk of blood clots. Thinking that could be exactly what was happening, she quickly reached for her cell phone and flipped it open.
Brass put his hand on hers, stopping her from dialing. "It's okay," he managed to say as he slowly relaxed. Seeing her worried expression, he tried to smile. "Guess I'm not Superman after all."
"What was that?" She let out the breath she'd been holding and slipped her phone back into its cradle.
"Not sure. Happened a couple of times in the hospital. Every now and then I get this pain that feels like someone's sticking a knife in my back."
"Maybe the nerve endings are starting to fire up." If that were the case, she doubted the pain meds would help. "Come on, let's get you situated. Do you have a T-shirt or something you want to put on?" It occurred to her after she asked that he wouldn't be able to move his left arm much less lift it.
He shook his head, feeling a slight rush. "Nah, I'll be okay."
Gently easing him out of the shirt, trying not to stare at the long, angry scar that stood out in the brown hair covering his chest, or the older, faded scar that graced his left shoulder, Catherine tried to keep her expression even, although it was becoming extremely difficult. Already she'd seen more of Jim Brass than she ever imagined but now, for reasons she couldn't quite explain, the sight of this slightly battered, very masculine man made her pupils dilate, her heart beat a little faster and the room grow a few degrees warmer.
"What?" he asked, noticing the blush that pinked her cheeks once again.
"Nothing."
He gave her a look she had seen too many times in the interrogation room: he wasn't buying her answer. "What?" he asked again.
She'd noticed his broad, muscular chest and strong shoulders before. Hell, she'd even found herself staring at his backside on more than one occasion but never like this. What was she supposed to say? Gee, Brass, the sight of you standing there in just your Jockey's makes my toes tingle? Hardly. Unfortunately, it was the truth.
He cocked an eyebrow curiously, waiting for an answer.
Flustered, she said the first thought that came to mind. "You surprise me, that's all. You keep yourself in pretty good shape."
"For an old guy?" Even though he smiled when he said it, he was only half joking.
It was no secret that since her divorce, Catherine had an eye for a certain type of man and Jim Brass wasn't that type. For one thing he was ten years older; for another she'd made it quite clear early on that she wasn't interested. His ego knew when to stop but that didn't mean he still wasn't attracted to her. He had been from the very first moment he'd met Catherine Willows. She was married then and he was still carrying open wounds from a nasty divorce so somehow that made it easier but there was no denying that he felt something for her. Unfortunately, he knew she'd never consider him as anything more than a friend.
"I didn't say that."
"You didn't have to." There was no animosity in his voice. He was merely stating a fact.
Reaching out, Catherine lightly brushed her fingers through his hair, surprised at how soft it was. When he didn't protest, she trailed her fingers down the side of his face, feeling the prickly stubble on his cheek as she lingered on his jaw, then gently ran her thumb over his lips.
He sat deathly quiet, afraid to even breath as she leaned forward and kissed him softly. It was a simple kiss that did nothing more than convey a sweet sincerity. But it was still a kiss.
Brass pulled away slowly, feeling a little flushed and lightheaded. One was a result of the medication but the other definitely wasn't. "I'm not protesting by any means but what was that for?"
"Because I wanted to." Honestly, she really didn't know why she did it. It simply happened. No conscious thought, no rational decision, just something in the quiet, self-deprecating way he looked at her, something in the way she felt at that moment made the contact necessary.
"Don't expect any argument from me." Argue no, confused definitely. Brass wasn't quite sure how to interpret what just happened. Maybe it hadn't really happened at all; maybe it was just part of some very pleasant dream he was having or maybe it was merely a hallucination. After all, he'd been told that was one of the side-effects of the pain medicine.
Exhaling slowly, Catherine glanced around the room. "You're going to need more than this to prop yourself up." Finding nothing, she had an idea. "Hang on a minute." She disappeared down the halfway, returning minutes later with one of the overstuffed back cushions from the sofa. "Try this."
He tried to swing his legs around, suddenly feeling as if his limbs were full of lead weights. "Can't," he said simply, his verbal skills suddenly on par with a two-year old as his thoughts became jumbled into one incoherent stream.
"Somebody's going down hard," Catherine said out loud but to no one in particular. Easing him onto the bed, she gently propped the pillows behind him until he nodded his approval then touched his forehead. His skin felt warm but after the kiss, she still felt a bit warm as well. "Are you going to be okay by yourself?"
Something that sounded remarkably like a hum escaped his lips.
Although Jim wasn't quite asleep yet, his fixed stare at some unseen object left her fairly certain that was the most she would get out of him. She'd go home, get a few hours sleep and then stop by that evening on her way into work. Something told her he'd be out most of that time but just in case, she left two bottles of water, a handful of breakfast bars and all his meds on the nightstand within reach. She felt a tinge of regret leaving him alone like this but she really needed to get home: to Lindsey, to her mother, to her bed.
Turning off the light, she stood silently in the doorway for a few minutes, watching as his eyes slowly closed, then left the house.
Sitting in her SUV, leaning back in the seat, she couldn't seem to stop her thoughts from lingering on Jim Brass and the fact that she'd kissed him. She did it. He hadn't encouraged her. It was simply a moment of weakness on her part brought on by his unexpected display of vulnerability. She tried to tell herself that she only wanted to give him a little reassurance, a little confidence in himself, but truth be told, she really just wanted to kiss him.
What was she thinking?
Firing up the ignition, she smacked her hand on the steering wheel, angry with herself for being so impulsive, angry with him for getting to her like that.
xx
To be continued in Chapter 9