"What bugs you most?"

A CSI fan-fic story, started May 2003; WIP, but I was bitten in a recent plot bunny attack (October 2007) and decided to dust this one off and see where it goes. It is a much longer companion piece to the "Better Brass biography" posted over at the "jimbrass" Yahoo group.

The usual disclaimers: none of the CBS or CSI characters belong to me, and I make no money doing this kind of thing. I am not affiliated with CBS or CSI in any way.

Spoilers: this is set sometime between Seasons 4 and 5 (so lots of water under the bridge since I started this fic). Greg Sanders is still in the lab.

Rating: Mild lemon…T for adult themes and language in later chapters.

Pairings: Jim/Catherine; Bobby/OFC.

Chapter 07/??

"Doctor of Chiropractic Medicine"

(A Saturday morning in mid-May)

"Jim? Hello, anybody home?" Catherine called, taking her key from the front door lock. She put her overnight bag and purse on the floor of the foyer and shut the door behind her, locking it.

"Hey, Catherine. I'm in here," he called back from the kitchen. "Did Lindsey get to her Girl Scout thing okay?"

Willows came around the corner to the kitchen and found him in pajama pants and a white t-shirt, finishing up a few dirty dishes at the sink. She had to smile at the domestic picture he made just then, and how cute he was in those long, blue cotton pants. His dark hair was still damp from showering after work.

"Oh, yes, and she's thrilled beyond belief over her second ever Brownie camping trip." She stood uncertainly and rested one hand on the back of a chair. "I saw your car pulling out down the street and wondered if you'd changed your mind." She tried to keep her voice neutral and steady then.

Brass turned from the sink and came to her, drying his hands on the dishtowel. He tossed it almost neatly over the back of another chair, smiling tenderly as he touched her cheek. More than anything he wanted to calm the faint worry he saw on her face.

"No way, baby," he told her, searching her eyes and kissing her. "That was Mickey heading to her 9:00 tee time over at Black Hill."

"Goodness gracious, golf again?" she laughed and felt a little foolish for her lack of faith. Catherine peeled off her jacket, the worry falling away with it, and then she let him take her into his arms, luxuriating in his warmth and soothing strength. "I may have to get back into it one of these years."

"Yeah, me too, from scratch. I think she shot an obscene 78 the other day, it was unreal, Cath. That girl beat my hockey-player ass all over the course, fair and square. The Scottish couple we met on Thursday, the Dicksons, invited her to join them this morning for eighteen more holes. The flight back to Tallahassee is not until tomorrow afternoon."

"Oh, good. I was hoping to see her again before she headed home. How's she doing?"

Brass shrugged. "Better, I think. Yesterday was a laundry and hang-out-take-it-easy day; I let her use my movie rental card. She's still nursing some pretty big hurts care of the ex-boyfriend. It's only been a couple of months since they split up. Mickey said they were together just under two years or so."

Catherine was quiet for a moment, resting her head on his chest as he held her, undemanding in the center of the kitchen. "Well, then we're both lucky you're such a good listener." She looked up at him with a lop-sided half smile. Catherine too, was nursing some pretty big hurts care of an ex-, and then Eddie had been killed about six months ago. "Thanks."

"You're very welcome."

With that, he leaned down to kiss her, lightly tasting her tongue with his. She sighed her approval as his large hands warmed her lower back and settled possessively on her buttocks, pulling her closer and tightly molding her body with his own. She could feel the growing evidence of his desire for her through the thin material of his pajamas. Her body's responses were starting to tingle, too. It was a great feeling.

It had been quite a while since they'd last been together like this: Catherine's grief had made her shut down a bit, emotionally. But, Jim was secure enough to let her work through it in her own time, and in her own way. His offers of comfort were continually open-ended. She had never met someone so patient with her demons before; when he had been the boss of the CSI graveyard shift up until several years ago, she'd thought of him mostly as an annoying ass. Must be the job that did that to a guy.

When they finally parted, Cath a little breathless, she looked up at him again and saw the invitation in his unbelievably blue eyes. "Meet you at the pass, Jim? I need about two minutes to get cleaned up from work," she said. The faint scents of his soap and aftershave (she always loved it when he shaved before bed) were already affecting her. He smelled so good up close like this.

His eyes twinkled at her as one eyebrow snuck upwards. "Naked?" Jim's sexy baritone voice was also affecting her, making her knees feel like water.

"Totally," she assured him, with a tiny catch in her throat. She kissed her fingertip and pressed it to his lips before she headed to the bathroom.

By the time Catherine joined him in his bedroom he had already drawn the room-darkening shades and turned on a dim lamp at the bedside. She wore his soft cotton robe in from the master bath because she loved the smell and touch of it on her bare skin.

Jim waited for her under the covers, stretched out on his side; watching her as she slipped out of his bathrobe and in beside him. Something about the way she turned made her swear mildly under her breath and grunt softly in pain.

"You okay, Catherine?" he asked, immediately concerned.

"My back's been really sore today," she said, settling in and facing him. Eyes half-closed, she groaned again, but this time it came out with a sigh.

He reached over and caressed the slender dip of her waist. "Lifting heavy old CSI cases?"

"No, I try not to do that anymore if I can help it. It's woman stuff. It'll stop in a few days, after things, uh, get going." She stroked his chest, enjoying the texture of the thick, dark hair.

"Ah," he said with understanding and planted a quick kiss on her lips. "Turn over, doll face. You need a 'James F. Brass special'."

She giggled as she rolled over onto her stomach, crushing both arms and one side of her face into the pillow. Jim sat up and reached for the tube of odorless muscle rub cream he kept in the drawer of the nightstand, squeezing a bit of it into his palm. He began rubbing two-handed circles of it onto the small of her back, first pushing back the bedclothes so that she was completely uncovered. Even in the pale lamplight, he was enjoying the view.

Still concentrating on her lower back muscles, he switched to one hand as the medicinal lotion soaked in. He exerted a bit more pressure with his fingertips and heard her moan into the pillow. Jim winced sympathetically and eased up.

"Ooh, sorry. Too much?" He slid over to support himself on one elbow, stretching out full-length beside her.

"Actually, no. It's wonderful, Jim. You can be my chiropractor anytime," she said, lifting her head slightly so the words would not be muffled. Catherine sighed and he felt her body relax even more under his tender attention.

She was literally purring with contentment as he massaged her upper back, then buttocks and the backs of her legs. He leaned in to kiss and taste the skin of her shoulder blade that was nearest. As he rubbed, he switched to careful fingernail scratches and saw gooseflesh rise when he traced up her spine. She was so still and limp that he thought for a brief moment she'd fallen asleep.

She hadn't. In one decisive movement, she turned over onto her back and stretched luxuriously under the warm hand that rested on her abdomen. She reached up to caress the back of his head, trying to pull him closer. Jim resisted a little, a teasing smile on his face, realizing what a turn-on for them both the gentle massage had been.

"Oh, the front too, huh? If you insist, ma'am…" It was then that Brass allowed her to pull him down for another very frank and passionate kiss. His massaging hand left her flat stomach and tickled downwards to find the warm and welcoming wetness between her legs. He had to fight hard to control his own arousal, but she was practically squirming with pleasure under the movements of his fingers, lips and tongue. Jim dipped down briefly to capture an pebbled rosy nipple between his lips. A feline growl escaped her as he did so.

At her insistent pulling and shifting around, he eased himself to his knees and between her legs, entering her crux easily, hands-free. She cried out her desire as his rigid member sank into her. "Oh, God! Jim, please…" Her hands greedily wandered over his muscular shoulders and arms, down his sides to caress his hips.

Brass didn't answer except to move his head down to kiss her throat and neck as she arched beneath him. He moved teasingly, agonizingly slowly within her; the heat from her body's responses was incredible and he wasn't exactly sure how he was able to make love to her like this. Catherine groaned again as she grasped his buttocks with both hands and encouraged him to penetrate her more deeply, the slow pace making her want even him more. Jim held himself completely motionless and smiled down until she opened her eyes. He knew he'd just discovered another way to drive her crazy (in a good way, of course) and he liked it. A lot.

"Jim! Don't ever, ever screw with a woman who's PMS-ing," she whispered hoarsely, and then sniggered when she saw his impish eyebrows go up well towards his hairline, such as it was these days. Even in the near-darkness, Catherine could see his eyes glittering with humor and passion, and she realized what she'd just said. "Uh, let me rephrase that…"

They both laughed out loud, and he kissed her again before he resumed thrusting in earnest, gradually building in speed and depth. "Okay, baby. You're the boss," he told her softly, nibbling gently on an earlobe and breathing in the faint freesia scent of her hair. Catherine knew it had become one of his favorites, so she used that particular shampoo often.

She was already relaxed and receptive after the backrub, so it wasn't long before a pleasant tightness settled powerfully in her pelvis. She gasped and loudly called out his name when the climax finally rippled through her entire body. Her long, dancer's limbs clasped around his torso, and his own breathless finish came shortly after.

He rested on his knees and elbows above her, trying to catch his breath, and she traced tiny, grateful kisses all over his flushed face. After several moments, he gently pulled out and repositioned behind her, spooning her warm soft body with one arm reaching around to caress a full, sensitive breast.

"How's your back now?" he whispered huskily into her ear, tickling a little with his breath.

Catherine squeezed the arm he had wrapped around her. "Never better. Thank you, Doctor." Jim reached down to pull the covers over them, then quickly settled back into his position as the rear "spoon". She sighed, sleepy and satisfied as she clicked off the lamp, and was quiet for a few moments more.

"Jim?"

"M-hm?" He sounded sleepy and content too.

"Did you know that the same muscles that cause pre-menstrual cramps are temporarily relieved by a woman's orgasm?"

He chuckled. "Oh, yeah? I did not know that."

She giggled softly and snuggled further back into his hirsute body. "Yep, better than drugs. I can show you the article if you like."

"Then you really are the boss, Cath. Just let me know when you need another, um, adjustment." They drifted off to sleep, smiling in the darkness.

TBC