Chapter Ten
Nearly a week later, Iris was supposed to go home at the end of her swing shift but Grissom had texted her that she needed to come by his office. No reason was given beyond that but Iris didn't question it and swung by the lab. Grissom was in the middle of feeding his tarantula a cricket when Iris knocked on the office door. Nick and Catherine were also seated in his office. They all watched with macabre fascination as the tarantula quickly dispatched the cricket
"Thanks for coming by, Iris, please come in," Grissom beckoned with the forceps that had just dropped the cricket to its doom. He then turned his attention to a folder and removed some papers.
"Esau doesn't waste any time," Catherine observed.
"Esau?" Iris asked, recognizing the Old Testament name.
"Griss' name for his African red baboon tarantula," Nick gestured at the glass aquarium where the large arachnid resided with its latest meal.
"Apt," Iris agreed, "Esau being Hebrew for ruddy and described as hairy in appearance in Genesis."
"Well, we got our Sunday school lesson a couple of days late," Catherine said with a sly smile that Iris mirrored back with a dry chuckle.
"Iris, I thought you'd like to know that your conclusions about the cause of death for Winner were confirmed," Grissom told her and handed her the paperwork.
"I'll be," Iris said mildly as she glanced over the results.
"The colonel's pleased with the outcome of the investigation, Ecklie's scored some political points both with the mayor and governor, and you're getting positive reviews from the swing assistant supervisor," Grissom said while Iris handed him the papers back.
"We need to celebrate your first big case here," Nick said gravely while stroking his chin in thought.
"Nickers, I'm just doing my job and not looking to score favor," Iris chided him.
"Hey, we've done more as a team outside of work together in the short time you've been with us than in some time. I think Nick's got a good idea for us to get together again," Catherine concurred.
"Nicky, what'd you have in mind?" Grissom inquired.
"We should go to that new club called Da Mix. It'd be a blast," Nick proposed.
"Da Mix? Um, I'm really not into clubbing," Iris sounded doubtful.
"Hear me out, Iris, it's a new dance club where they play anything, different songs to dance to one after another: country, R&B, rock, some rap," Nick cajoled.
"You're saying everyone would want to go?" Iris still wasn't sure.
"Yeah, even Griss here will get out there and shake his booty," Nick laughed while Grissom rolled his eyes.
"I think I can even convince Brass to go since he worked the case with you," Catherine interjected.
"Okay, I'll tag along only if this is something the whole team including Jim wants to go do," Iris capitulated with reluctance.
"This outing may have to wait then," Grissom cautioned.
"Why?" asked Catherine and Nick in near unison.
"Jim's called in sick for the third day," Grissom replied but his face showed concern.
Iris was surprised but kept her face neutral.
"Yeah, that's right, bronchitis again?" Nick supposed.
"Crap, well, that explains why I haven't seen him around the lab. It's that cold of his! Blast his stubborn hide, I told him to get his behind to a doctor," Iris blurted suddenly and covered her mouth while her cheeks took on a faint flush.
"Why Iris, Brass'll be touched you care so," Catherine smirked before she seemed to recall something and her own face turned more serious.
"Where does Jim live?" Iris asked Grissom abruptly.
"Your need to know is what?" Grissom returned.
"I'd like to check on him. The rest of your team is on shift. He sounds like he'd be a challenging patient and you know I like a challenge," Iris replied with a hopeful look.
"Let me call him before you embark on such a notion," Grissom countered and pulled out his cell phone to hit speed dial. His conversation with Brass was quick. "Jim, Gil, sorry to hear you're under the weather. Iris is asking to come by and check on you. I see. I'll let her know. Get yourself better."
"What's the Brass man say?" Nick queried.
"He said hell will freeze over before he'll let Iris through the door but his language was a bit saltier. He sounds bad though. He's wheezing and his voice is so hoarse I could barely understand him," Grissom replied as his eyes narrowed thoughtfully at Iris.
"All the more reason I should go. Come on, Griss, address and the key you have to his house," Iris demanded softly with an outstretched hand.
"What makes you think I'd have a key?" Grissom protested.
"Because you're his best friend and he'd give you one, because you're concerned about how ill he is, because you know I'm the most qualified to help him, and because you can get Betty to give me the days off I need to cozen Jim back to health," Iris reasoned while holding up a finger for each because.
"Griss, she's right. The last time Brass was in hospital for the bronchitis he sometimes gets this time of year was close for how quick it went to pneumonia. He's healthy as a horse any other time except for this," Catherine interjected.
"Yeah, boss, my vote's with Catherine and Iris," Nick concurred.
"I have to agree with our consensus here as the evidence is overwhelming. Iris, Jim can be profoundly stubborn but I believe you're accustomed to dealing with such a personality trait. Here you go," Grissom said while he wrote out the address and gave it to Iris along with a key he removed from his key ring.
"Thanks, I'll let you know how things go. I'll make quick stops at home and then a CVS or Walgreens. Wish me well," Iris said and strode down the hall with a fast pace that belied her shorter stature.
"Why'd Iris be so tweaked up over Jim's being sick?" Catherine wondered.
"Got me," Grissom shrugged.
"I know why. Iris knew somebody back in Dallas who got pneumonia bad and kept refusing to go get checked out. By the time it put him in the hospital it was too late," Nick divulged sadly.
"Not another CSI?" Catherine gasped.
"No, it was a homicide detective she was friends with but nothing romantic mind you. The pneumonia was a strain resistant to antibiotics. If he'd gone sooner maybe the outcome would've been different according to the doctors, but Iris had begged him to go but he wouldn't. The guy died and his widow still works at the DPD in the crime lab. You can tell Iris has taken to us quick, including Brass, so that's her way. She always believes she can charge in and fix things up, even when she can't," Nick disclosed so they would understand Iris' reasons. "
"Wow," Catherine whispered, "I can see why it's important to her then."
"Let's hope Brass will let her in," Grissom said with the silent notion he meant in more ways than one.
X X X X X
Brass thought being shot by Willie Cutler wasn't so bad compared to how he now felt. His chest, back and sides were sore from the relentless coughing he'd endured. Rattling sounds every time he took a breath told him the junk in his lungs wasn't moving and efforts to get rid of it fruitless. He hadn't been able to take a shower in nearly five days, finding that trying to bathe with a washcloth was woefully inadequate. Jim was curled into a ball of utter misery in bed, glancing with disgust at the wad of bed linens on the floor. His attempt to get up and get to the toilet in time had been disastrous. He'd believed mind over matter but simply been unprepared for the disabling wave of fatigue and dizziness when he'd try to get up. Brass realized he was in a bad way, no shower in days and it only added to his distress.
The doorbell rang.
He tried to get up again but his head began to spin and he sank back with a despairing groan, swearing profusely as he did so.
A loud knocking followed the initial doorbell chiming.
"Go away," Brass tried to yell but only a harsh whisper came out.
To his astonishment, he heard the door open and he looked frantically at his night stand trying to remember where his service weapon was and then remembering it was in the top drawer of the nearby chest. It was out of reach and no help now if this was an intruder.
"Hello…hello…Jim?"
Brass couldn't believe it. She was here in spite of what he'd told Grissom. He was also mortified about his state of compromised personal hygiene which was rank to the extreme and that an uninvited female guest was now on the premises and within a few feet of discovering his condition of eau de pee yew.
Iris' nose told her there were problems as she let herself in. The place was probably spic and span at any other time at least that was what her impression would have been because Brass was a smart dresser. Its present state needed to be deemed a federal disaster area.
"Jim, it's Iris, I'm coming on in," she said loudly and heard what sounded like an attempt to speak but deep barking coughing instead.
"Bingo," she softly said to herself.
Jim's bedroom was just an extension of the disaster area. A wastebasket was overflowing with used Kleenex. Over-the-counter cough and cold medications crowded the night stand. Brass was wrapped up in a blanket but the bed had no other linens. She noted the pile of linen at the foot of the bed and a pungent odor denoting a certain body excretion.
"I guess hell didn't freeze over…I told you not to come here," Brass managed to get out a hostile croak.
"Arrest me," Iris told him bluntly. "First thing to do is I'm drawing you a warm bath so you can soak."
"Oh so this is how you wanted to see me in my naked glory?" Brass growled.
"I'm sure it's one of the unnamed natural wonders of the world," Iris retorted as he watched her go into the master bathroom. "Ah so, a garden tub, perfect!"
He heard the sound of running water into the tub and also a spicy smell that even his congested nose could decipher a few moments later before Iris returned.
"There's no way in hell I'm going in there," Jim protested between sniffles.
"Come on, upsy-daisy with you, lean on me. I know you feel like total crap but if you don't want to end up in the hospital, you have to trust me and do as I say," Iris said sharply and eased him up to a sitting position. He stood shakily and found he did need her support.
"So you gonna be my own dominatrix like Lady Heather that I have to obey?" he tried to now joke and then groaned as he sagged against her. He was surprised to find she could support his weight as they walked slowly to the bathroom.
"I don't know who that is but if it takes me using S&M tactics to make you behave, so be it but someday you'll have to give me details on this woman," Iris chuckled mirthlessly.
Jim let the blanket drop away as he cautiously slid into the tub, noting Iris kept eye contact with his upper half and not the lower. Was she being modest for his sake or her own? He grimaced slightly as the sudsy water crept up over him as he submerged up to his neck. Brass nearly swooned in ecstasy as he luxuriated in the tub and felt like an invisible crust of filth was melting away. "What's that smell?"
"It's ginger and has definite healing properties for the cold and flu. After you've soaked a while, I'll drain the tub and you'll take a shower. I trust you have a robe because I want you to get toasty warm so you start to sweat and then back to bed with you," Iris said in a no-nonsense way.
"Yes, ma'am, I do have a robe hanging on the closet door. You're not one of those tree huggers are you and stare into crystals and chant mantras? Gawd, you're bossy," Brass griped.
"Well, your way of going about this got you in the state you're in," Iris returned and then sighed. "Look, I'm here to help but if you just want to go the hospital I'll take you. For the record, I believe there's balance between natural and man-made medicine. I'm not a tree-hugger and I don't stare into crystals and chant."
"No hospital…I'll go along with whatever voodoo you got just get me better," Brass declared before a coughing episode ensued.
Iris looked at him sympathetically. "I'm stepping out a moment to make a call."
"To who? I don't want anyone knowing you're here because I don't want any rumors floating around" Brass literally felt like he was choking.
"Lean forward!" Iris commanded.
Brass complied and Iris thumped his upper back with curved palms like playing a drum.
"Hey, I ain't no bongos," Jim exclaimed before he felt the urge to cough. Iris then covered his mouth and nose with a wad of toilet paper.
"Go on, cough and get rid of that junk," Iris instructed as Brass did so. He was stunned at being to finally get rid of some the mucous crud. She looked clinically at what he'd expectorated and tossed it in the wastebasket.
"Isn't that kind of gross?" Jim rasped at her.
"I needed to see what the color was. Only Grissom, Catherine and Nick know I'm here but I also need to talk to Doc Robbins. I'll ask Grissom and Doc Al for discretion so that your reputation isn't tarnished," Iris said and walked out.
As Jim lay there soaking, he wondered what her motives were. She seemed to be there genuinely out of concern for his well-being but his mind had more questions than answers. He decided to tell his brain to shut up for a while, submerging up to his nose with a sigh of bliss.
Iris made two calls. The first was to Grissom who was laughing by the end of their conversation at the idea of Iris putting Jim in a tub but promising that no mention would be made of Brass' situation beyond he was home recuperating. The next call was to Doc Robbins who she outlined Brass' condition to and the request for prescriptions to be called in by him to the Walgreen's Iris had stopped at near Brass' home. She also found his screened-in patio and retrieved a plastic chair.
Brass was dozing in the tub when Iris returned and Iris smiled to herself. His face was relaxed with a faint smile and looked very childlike at that moment. Iris hated having to wake him while she knelt by the tub and jostled his shoulder gently. "Jim, come on, time to shower."
"Babe, take it with me, you know you want to and what clean fun we'll have," he suggestively murmured half asleep and then his eyes flew open in shock. Iris was resting her chin on her hands at the tub edge with a half-smile and there was a sparkle in those brown eyes that surveyed him.
"I have to say that's the best offer I've had all day," she said with an amused chuckle.
"Uh…Iris…I didn't mean that…," Brass stammered in alarm.
"Oh who knows perhaps you will as get to know me better and thanks for calling me Iris at long last," Iris batted her eyelashes at him. "Who knew it'd take having to have you buck naked in a tub to do so."
Brass knew she was having fun with him and found her quirky sense of humor a nice facet to her personality that relaxed the moment of tension.
"I'd reach down to pull the drain plug but knowing my luck I'd get a hold of something I shouldn't," Iris said drily and Jim's efforts not to laugh failed as his sides protested bitterly.
"Oh Lord, my sides are killing me," Jim gasped between weak laughs before he reached into the water to disengage the drain.
Iris helped him stand with a towel, again keeping her eyes on his. He now appreciated the respect she was treating him with. When the tub was drained, Iris put the patio chair in it and had Brass sit down.
"Why do I have to sit in a chair?" he asked suspiciously.
"The chair's got slits in the seat and will make a perfect shower chair. You're too weak right now to stand up safely during the shower and I don't feel like taking one with you should you start to slip and pull me in there too," Iris stated with hands on hips.
"Okay, I give, you're right," Brass raised his hands in surrender, making his towel slide off inadvertently, giving Iris an eyeful she hadn't bargained for. She averted her eyes quickly, silently hoping Jim hadn't seen her accidental perusal of his distinct male anatomy.
"Sorry about that, Iris, but I knew you wouldn't peek," Jim snickered hoarsely. "I wear a sleeveless T-shirt and boxers to bed if you get me those too."
"Again your virtue is safe with me but rest assured you're a hale and hearty representative of the male gender," Iris said candidly, breathing a quiet thanks to heaven he indeed hadn't seen that she'd seen, while she gave him the hand held shower head. She turned on the water to a warm setting and stepped back from the shower curtain.
"Well, it's nice to hear an appreciative word from the other side of the fence," Jim said spluttering as the water splashed his face.
While he showered, Iris found the linen closet in the hallway and took out fresh sheets, pillowcases and two quilts. She remade the bed and took the soiled linens to put in the washer and start a load. Returning to his bedroom, she located the underwear drawers to get out a T-shirt and boxers.
After the shower when Jim was dried off, Iris helped him out of the tub and gave him the underwear to change into. She then wrapped him in the flannel robe and walked him back to bed with slow steps. He laid down still in the robe as Iris now retrieved a thick pair of white athletic socks.
"What're the socks for? I don't wear socks in bed," he said with a dismissive wave.
"For now you do, mister, because I'm putting Vicks Vaporub on your footsies. It's a home remedy that works. You'll be able to get some rest without coughing while I go to get your medicines from Walgreens," Iris explained and proceeded to put the pungent-smelling salve on his feet and then put the socks on.
"You're leaving?" Brass asked, sounding a bit plaintive to Iris.
"Doc Robbins called you in some prescriptions that I need to go get. I won't be gone long. Heck, you won't miss me in the least. I'll be back before you know it," she patted his shoulder and left.
A short time after she'd left, Brass felt on the verge of euphoria wrapped in the flannel robe and under the quilts. It was a warm feeling he languished in and to his amazement he wasn't coughing! For the first time in days, he was able to take a series of breaths without the ensuing spasmodic, barking coughs. Guess Iris knew what she was doing, Brass mused, drowsiness setting in and the heaviness pulling his eyelids together couldn't be resisted.
Iris got back to his house as soon as possible, still irked by the fact the pharmacist had to reconfirm a prescription with Doc Robbins. Before she went to the bedroom, she went to the kitchen and nuked a microwave chicken noodle soup with veggies. She then went to the bedroom and heard a deep even snoring. Iris had to smile again at how relaxed he looked asleep, a little boy quality she wondered if he knew he had, or for that matter how many women had seen his face in that state? Catherine had told her before that Brass had been quite the player when he first came to the Vegas PD and rarely lacked for female company. The bed was a king size (one thing she had in common with him at least) but it had probably seen plenty of battle action, visualizing notches in the bedposts. She cleared her head of that line of thinking as she tried to rouse him.
"Jim, wake up," she said sitting on the bed by him.
"Oh, hiya, Iris," Jim's eyes finally opened along with a profound yawn.
She fluffed the pillows behind him as he raised himself up to a sitting position. Iris then produced a series of prescription bottles and a steaming mug of the soup with some crackers and a large pitcher of water. He seemed to look disappointed about something.
Iris found herself peeved at that moment and fumed, "What'd you expect? Me to stand here scantily clad and feed you grapes?"
"That could be a good start," Brass wisecracked back, Iris unable to tell if he was hopeful or not.
"I doubt I'm your type," Iris said testily.
"You don't have a clue what my type might be," Brass shrugged before starting on the soup.
"Let me hazard a guess. I think an ideal candidate would be around the height of 5'7" to 5'9" with long shapely legs, a killer figure and appropriately pouting pectoral appendages, a face framed in long gorgeous hair that haunts your most erotic dreams, luscious ruby-red lips, should I go on?" Iris remarked.
"Damn, you're close, what gave me away?" Jim asked, incredulous.
"A week ago you and I were at the lab walking down the hallway when a very attractive female officer meeting that physical description walked by and you looked ready to swallow your tie. She didn't see you but I could tell your eyes had her in the buff and ready to ride 'em cowgirl with you. You had this sly look of the fox knowing it can have its pick of any hen in the chicken coop," Iris nudged him with a knowing look as he searched his memory.
"Officer Triana Masters. She's known around the force as a masterpiece for reasons I won't go into but I can say it's appropriate she works Vice. Yeah, she's pretty hot and knows it. I have eyes, you know, but these days most of the hens would just tell this ol' fox to cluck off," he recalled with a raspy laugh.
"I don't see you as being ready to be put out to pasture because you're just between ladies right now, that's all," Iris said encouragingly before reaching into the Walgreen's bags. "Okay, this is an antibiotic for you to take followed by this cough syrup with codeine. It'll make you feel snoozy so you can rest. I'll also need to monitor your temperature."
"Uh, wait a minute, just how would you check it?" Brass queried.
"Hmm, I can offer the following choices – orally, temporally, or the backside approach. Your call, sir," Iris smirked with a devilish chuckle.
"Not the third, uh-uh, no way Jose, not even if you promised me dinner first!" Jim declared.
"I got the temporal thermometer since we aren't on that intimate a level," Iris reassured him. "You've got your cell phone so call me if you need me sooner but I'll come back in the morning to check on you if that's okay."
"Not many schmoes in this town tonight get to say they have their own nurse," Brass noted. "Yeah, I want you to come back, Iris. You're right my way wasn't working and today was crappy until you got here. I figure I can only get over this with your help."
She held the temporal thermometer briefly near his forehead and got the initial reading.
"Well, do I pass?" Brass asked.
"You've got a fever of nearly 102 degrees, not dangerously high but enough to make you feel crummy," Iris told him.
"So that makes me a hottie?" Jim wondered.
"I'll update your Facebook page to that effect," Iris shot back.
X X X X X
Monday was the next morning as Grissom's phone rang and its tone was for Iris' number. Catherine, who had brought a lab result for him to review on one of the graveyard shift's cases, was seated across from him. "It's Iris, guessed she survived last night. Good morning, Florence Nightingale."
"Morning, boss, thought I'd let you know how things went," Iris chortled at the nursing reference. She gave him a brief outline before she pulled into the driveway of Brass' home and closed the call.
"Did Brass behave?" Catherine asked.
"Iris took no prisoners if that's what you mean. She said he was in rough shape when she got there but by the time she was leaving he was breathing better and able to rest," Grissom relayed.
"I think Jim'll have his hands full if he doesn't follow nurse's orders," Catherine laughed, "but then again he could do with having a woman in the house for a while."
"What do you mean?" Grissom cocked his head with the look Iris had dubbed "Grissomish" and privately told the team of.
"Well, he hasn't been seeing anybody for quite a while, not even casually, so I see Iris' being there right now as good not bad. Plus he could do with getting to know her better," Catherine clarified.
"She's not what I'd call the sort Jim has at the top of his list if you're thinking there's any chance of…well…you know," Grissom proposed.
"That's the beauty of it. Jim gets some well-deserved female attention without it getting messy. Look the lab results over and let me know," Catherine grinned before she left Grissom to ponder them over. However, Grissom's mind was filled with wondering how it would go between Iris and Brass.
X X X X X
Jim had finally had a nearly decent night's sleep. His sides were sore but improved and he was able to draw a breath with less wheezing. He heard the latch of the front door open as Iris called out, "Hey, I hope you're decent 'cause I'm coming in."
She found him looking more comfortable and while he watched the news. Jim's voice was raspy as he said, "So you can take my guff, huh?"
"I've dealt with worse," she replied. "You look much improved because you didn't call me. Would you like some breakfast?"
"Yeah, that'd be great! I actually have some appetite this morning," Jim said with a look of anticipation.
"I took the liberty of stopping at the store to pick up some things. My plan is to stick around long enough to get you fed and keep things tidy and then leave. I don't know many days I've got to get you back in the saddle so I have to make the most of it. How do you want this to go?" Iris queried.
"So I get your additional services of cleaning up around here? Jeez, it'll be just short of having a wife again," Jim pondered as Iris nodded affirmatively. "I like the terms of our arrangement."
"Do you want to give me a verbal lay of the land?" Iris asked.
"Naw, I think I can get up with your help and show you around. Can I take a shower first 'cause that Vaporub's got to go?" Brass insisted.
"Sure, I'd prefer you to use the chair in the tub until you've got your strength back," Iris requested while she checked his temperature.
"Yes, ma'am. You know, Iris, you make me feel like I'm in third grade and need to ask the teacher's permission to go to the can," Brass griped.
"This is your home and I don't want you to feel like that. I'm here as a friend to help a friend. By the way, your temperature's down to 101.4 degrees," Iris replied contritely.
"Well, you put up with me being a crabby SOB last night so you're alright in my book," Jim amended and started to get up slowly while Iris supported his left side. His cough persisted but the congestion seemed to have lessened.
"Thanks, my captain, I take that as your vote of confidence. While you shower I'll whip up some breakfast and try not to present a burnt offering," Iris laughed.
"Whip…Lady Heather…if you only knew," Jim's own laugh was still raspy.
"I actually do know because I called Griss about her. He was a fount of information. I would've loved to see your interview with Renee," Iris said casually.
"Gil told you about that? That son of a…," Jim railed and his footing became unsteady.
"Settle down, big fella! All is well. Griss said it was to be kept confidential between him, you and me. I'll take it to the grave," Iris pledged with an upraised hand before it went back around Jim's waist.
"Maybe but you women tend to have loose lips. I can't believe Gil would tell you that," Jim retorted doubtfully.
"It's because you consider me still something of a stranger?" Iris asked softly as Jim got into the tub.
"Not a stranger but you're still new and for Gil to make that known just surprises me," Jim returned bluntly.
"Point taken, my captain, people will just tell me things I guess because they feel comfortable sharing it with me," Iris said candidly. "Perhaps we'll get to know each other well enough you'll feel that way too someday."
With Jim safely seated and his shower in progress, Iris went to the kitchen and figured out what was where after putting up the groceries. She'd also brought a jam box that she put in the living room to listen to CD's while she cooked but kept the volume low enough so she could hear Jim.
"Iris!" she heard him call.
She went to the bathroom and found he'd made it safely to sit on the toilet on his own. For a moment she wanted to cluck her tongue in disapproval but held off knowing he needed to feel independent in spite of his situation. He was wrapped up securely in his towel, no accidental exposure would occur this time.
"Need fresh unders?" she inquired.
"Yeah but also some gym shorts so I can show you around," Jim replied before coughing hard into the Kleenex he'd grabbed.
Iris left him so he could dress in private and returned to help him walk. "Let me take you to bed."
Brass was caught off guard. "What was that?"
Iris flushed a brilliant pink. "Um, sorry, I meant walk you over to the bed so I can give you a round of PDT."
"What the hell is PDT – a time zone or something sexy?" Jim asked dubiously.
"Oh, heavens, it's not a sex term," Iris now laughed and showed him a machine with tubing and a face mask. "It means postural drainage therapy. You'll take an aerosolized breathing treatment via this nebulizer and then I'll follow it with the PDT. It'll help you to get rid of the mess in your lungs. We need to this three times a day per Doc as he prescribed."
"That witch doctor's got to love this. He's always ribbed me about the fact I don't like morgues and won't touch a body," Brass opined between coughs.
"Okay, sit here and hold this mask over your mouth and nose to breathe the mist in," Iris instructed while she prepared the measured amount of medication to place in the nebulizer compartment.
Brass complied and put the mask on when she said to and began inhaling as deeply as he could but not incite a round of coughing. Iris left him briefly to get breakfast ready to serve up. When she came back the nebulizer was nearly empty and she turned it off.
"Okay, I'll be using gentle thumping motions on your back and chest in a few positions followed by an interval for you to cough to get rid of what you can," Iris outlined what she would do.
The next several minutes went just that way and at the conclusion he found he was better able to bring up that crap so deep in his lungs. Iris left him to finish preparing the food in the kitchen as she listened to his efforts before she returned.
"Ready for breakfast?" Iris asked as she helped him stand up from the bed.
"Yeah, I feel like I went 15 rounds with Ali. One reason I moved to Vegas in the early nineties was thinking the drier climate would do me good. I don't get this bronchitis as often as I did back in Jersey," Brass panted slightly from the coughing and breathing exercises Iris had had him follow after the PDT.
"Tell you what I can give you a back massage before you go back to bed later after breakfast, it'll help you relax and rest better," Iris reasoned.
"Massage and PDT you learned to do where?" Brass didn't want to seem nosy but wanted more information.
"I told you I'd become a nurse to help with my grandmother at home, but I also worked in geriatric care facilities," Iris said.
"Nursing homes," Jim grunted with a sour look.
"Yes, anyway, extra things like respiratory therapy or physical therapy weren't covered very well by my grandmother's health insurance. I had friends in both professions who showed me the basics, and I took some later classes in massage therapy which helped pay for nursing school," Iris disclosed with a shrug.
Once they were seated in Jim's dining room, Iris uncovered the plates of food: English muffins dusted with cinnamon sugar, ham-and-cheese omelets and hash browns. Brass' felt his mouth start to water as his appetite kicked in. "Iris, this looks good."
"Dig in," she ordered and Jim wasted no time.
She cleared the table and loaded the dishwasher with Jim insisting to help. He stayed right beside her to lean on her as needed for support. He led her through the layout of his home. "There's not much to the place, three bedrooms, two bathrooms, utility area, garage and the backyard."
"Oh my, Jim, this is an oasis," Iris said, impressed, upon seeing what comprised the backyard.
"Yeah, my personal Shangri La to get away when work's a grind. I swim in the pool to keep in shape. Over there's the koi pond and the fish might go cannibal if I can't get them fed today. I had the landscaping done with plants and trees that are already native or would do well in this climate. The trees surrounding the fence are tall enough to give me privacy," Jim said matter-of-factly. "I need to mow the lawn bad!"
"Jim, I'll take care of the fish and get the lawn mowed by the guy who's going to take care of mine," Iris said to be practical.
"You've done enough, Iris," Jim protested but then swayed slightly as his energy faded.
"I don't give to get, Jim," Iris admonished and steered him into the house.
After Brass was lying down and comfortable, Iris made a quick call to set up the lawn getting mowed and headed out to the koi pond. Jim had given her instructions on what the koi pond needs could be and that he hand-fed the fish. She was prepared to do filter cleaning and check water quality as well as feed the fish.
Jim had fallen asleep and Iris had let him nap during the time she worked on the koi pond. Bringing in vegetable beef soup and a grilled cheese sandwich on a lap table and a cup of hot herbal tea, she woke him up. "Lunch, sir," she announced and seated herself at the foot of the bed.
Brass yawned widely and looked at the food, feeling genuinely hungry. "This smells good! How'd the koi pond go?"
"Fine except one big calico koi is a quite nipper compared to the gentle nibbles of the other ones when they're fed, "Iris complained, looking at her fingertips.
"Oh that's one's Jaws," Brass laughed and then looked at her thoughtfully.
"Proper name, I think I've still got all my fingers," Iris said and counted off her fingers, missing his appraising stare.
"Iris, would you call yourself a nibbler or a nipper?" he asked suggestively.
"You'll have to find that out for yourself because it depends on the situation and the body part involved," Iris retorted while a rosy blush colored her cheeks.
"I'll warn you now that I've been known to skinny dip in the pool at night, so that's why I've got the tall trees around the perimeter of the yard, just in case you get an eyeful," he said slyly.
"Well, I'll just have to find some way to keep myself from taking advantage of such a spectacular view as that," Iris said with a straight face but rolling eyes.
She was spunky, he told himself, thinking the following days could be interesting indeed as they got to know each other further. He bit into the sandwich and was surprised to taste bacon. The sandwich was the first to go since eating one thing at a time was his habit before moving on to the soup. Jim glanced at the tea. "Do I have to? Tea's not my favorite drink."
"Humor me. It's got honey, lemon, ginger, Echinacea and cinnamon in it. I know your beverages of choice from your mini-bar area. The tea's also got a shot of whiskey in it for your throat," Iris urged.
"Down the hatch," Brass shrugged and drained the cup. "Hey, that's not half bad and the food sure hit the spot."
"Well, I'll let you rest while I go home for a while. I'm still putting the place together. I'll come back to check on you later and make you dinner if you think you're getting your appetite back," Iris said, removing the lap table.
"Yeah, that'd be nice. I think I could eat a regular dinner," Jim said with anticipation.
"What would you like to have? Name it and I'll do my best to make it," Iris grinned.
"Surprise me," Jim said smugly.
"It's a date then," Iris nodded while Jim suddenly looked alarmed. "What's wrong?"
"You said it's a date," he replied, frowning.
"Sheesh, Jim Brass, it's only an expression so relax," Iris chided. "I'll be back before six o'clock."
Jim thought after she'd left he could get up just fine and do for himself but simply going to the bathroom to take care of business wore him out. Even though he felt much better in less than 24 hours, he had to reluctantly admit to himself he couldn't overdo it. With a yawn, he turned over on his side and only wanted to take a brief nap. He was in the midst of a greatly intimate dream involving Triana when a different voice called to him right when she should've been calling out his.
"Hiya, sleepy head!"
Brass' eyes opened to see Iris walking past him to the bathroom and then hearing the tub filling up. He also smelled the now-familiar ginger. "What time is it?"
"Just before six when I said I'd be back," Iris said and checked his temperature with the temporal instrument.
"Geez, I must've been more tired than I thought. I just wanted to take a nap," Jim complained.
"Rest is what you need most so do what your body tells you, it's plain common sense," Iris said.
"I was dreaming of doing just that," Brass said wryly.
"Resting?" Iris inquired.
"No, doing what my body was telling me to do," he smirked.
"Ah, who was the lucky recipient of your amorous attention?" Iris pondered, tapping a forefinger on her chin in thought.
"Having the time of her life I can tell you that," Brass said emphatically.
"Sounds like it was just sex and not making love," Iris countered. "Come on, into the tub with you."
"Are you getting moral on me?" Jim asked testily as she helped walk him to the tub.
"No, I'm just saying there's a difference between the two," Iris clarified. "You think you're having a physical connection with sex and can leave out the spiritual connection of mind and soul that also takes place."
"Think that takes place with rape?" Brass returned.
"Never! We both know that's a violent act using sex as its vehicle," Iris said as he eased himself into the tub. "I meant that to me making love far outweighs the short-term gratification of sex for the moment."
"Oh, so we have a romantic in our midst," Jim said sardonically, letting the bubbles and water come up to his chin.
"On a different note, tonight's dinner is taking you home to Newark: Boston clam chowder soup with sautéed shrimp salad, sweet pecan breaded tilapia, corn bread, clam cakes and lemon cream pie," Iris changed the subject abruptly.
"How long will it take?" Brass let the other topic of their discussion go.
"About an hour while I help you get your shower done," Iris said breezily.
"Sure you don't want to join me?" Brass cocked a suggestive eyebrow at her.
"It takes all my strength I assure you to resist your hirsute-blessed chest and other manly charms," she huffed tartly and turned on heel to leave him.
He did like getting her flustered he allowed and soaked the next fifteen minutes away, trying to rekindle his Triana fantasy.
"Oh that man excels at finding ways to get under my skin," Iris grumbled to herself as she marched into kitchen and got the first phase of dinner underway, unpacking the groceries she hadn't told him she'd brought.
She returned to help Jim set up his shower and again to walk with him back to his bed. He was insisting on walking under his own power and Iris stayed beside him only in the event his gait became unsteady. Jim gave himself his own breathing treatment but still needed Iris for the PDT that followed.
X X X X X
Nick knew he was unannounced as he knocked at Brass' door but he'd been surprised to see Iris' Excursion in the driveway behind Jim's Charger. The door opened and Iris clad in an apron greeted him, "Nickers! What brings you by?"
"I wanted to see how Jim was getting by but looks like he's managing," Nick said with a wide grin. "You got flour on your cheek but what smells so good?"
"Oh, bother, thanks, come in please," Iris wiped at her cheek with a corner of the apron. "Dinner's nearly ready if you want to stay."
Nick followed her into the kitchen where Jim was already sitting in the breakfast nook. "Hey, Jim, how're you feeling?"
"Coming along with the Nancy Nurse/Suzy Homemaker combo here," Jim said with a jerk of his thumb at Iris.
"He's exaggerating," Iris rolled her eyes at Brass.
"You guys bicker like an old married couple," Nick chuckled.
"He wishes," Iris sniffed dismissively as she plated the food.
"No, she wishes and'll never know what she's missing," Brass said in a snarky tone.
"Jim, you have to be feeling better. You got your piss-n-vinegar attitude going full throttle," Nick now laughed.
"Both of you shut up and eat," Iris ordered as she brought plates of food with their sides.
"Praise the Lord and pass the plate," Nick said with spoon poised to go into the Boston clam chowder.
"Some grace, Stokes," Brass grunted before he also started on the same.
Iris raised her eyes heavenward a moment before she took a tentative taste of the chowder. "I'd appreciate your, pardon the pun, feedback later on all of this. I've never made the chowder or the shrimp salad or the tilapia before."
Later, the last of the lemon pie having found a home with Nick, Iris was clearing the table while the men stacked dishes. Jim had insisted on helping to walk them over when his energy flagged and he'd nearly dropped the plates he was carrying. Nick got them before that happened, Brass having to sit down with a weary sigh.
"I'm worthless right now," Jim growled in frustration.
"Nonsense, you're making progress, getting rid of the junk in your lungs, taking your own bath and shower, doing your breathing treatment. Your energy will come back more each day," Iris encouraged.
"Jim, you'll be back before you know it eating grub like this," Nick said as he ate the last bite of lemon pie.
"I'll have to be going to the gym daily to work off the belly I'll get. Iris, I have to say the Boston clam chowder's close to how my mother makes it," Jim said. "It was all good."
"Thanks, you guys didn't leave any leftovers," Iris noted, mentally tucking Jim's compliment away. When he gave them, they were honest and not superficial flattery.
"So Jim's the reason you're off swing shift," Nick observed soto voce, bringing Iris the last of the dishes to soak in the sink. Jim had gone into the living room to sit in his favorite recliner.
"Yes and your silence on that's appreciated. I'm only off long enough to make sure he's over the worst of it. He's on the borderline for having pneumonia," Iris said with a worried glance toward the living room. Jim's cough was back but not as barky.
"Is your willingness to help Brass like this trying to make up for Mac?" Nick asked, keeping his voice low.
"Mac was stubborn like Jim. He wouldn't listen to Melanie or me," Iris recalled. "I know I'm not responsible for his death but at times the "what ifs" creep in."
"You introduced Melanie to Bud later on so I'd say the slate's clean. Jeri texted me about the baby and I agree with her that you're due to be somebody's baby," Nick said and hugged her.
"We're wet but thanks for the hug!" Iris protested.
"You can change the subject but not what I said," Nick said and headed for the living room.
The dishwasher was in action when Iris joined the men in the living room. Brass and Nick were having a discussion about the case Nick and Catherine were working on. Nick's phone gave its tone for when he had a message. He pulled the phone out and glanced at its screen content. "Well, I'm going in early to shift, Hodges texted me he's got some more results. Iris, if you're cooking anymore and have leftovers, I've got dibs on them!"
"Nope, my house, my leftovers," Jim said flatly.
"Come on, I broke bread with you," Nick said with a wounded look.
"My, my, the ultimate compliment I could have on my cooking efforts you've both just given me," Iris teased.
"Huh?" Brass said.
"Two gentleman arguing over possession of my leftovers," Iris replied with a flirty batting of eyes.
"Remember that's the leftovers and not you," Jim taunted before a series of coughs.
"Yeah, he's better, Iris, snarkier than ever," Nick allowed as Iris went with him to the door. "You've got your hands full."
"I'll manage Master Brass," Iris said smoothly.
"Good luck, I think you'll need it," Nick said with a surprise peck on her cheek before he strode toward his Avalanche.
X X X X X
Brass was finished with his PDT session after the breathing treatment and always felt best right afterwards. Iris was in the process of giving him the back and chest massage which was lessening the muscle soreness the coughing spells exacerbated. Her treatment plan was working he reluctantly admitted. She was taking all the guff he could give her in stride along with her verbal comebacks to when he deliberately tried his best to stir her up. He wasn't tired enough to sleep yet or have Vick's put on his feet with socks.
"Hey, do you think you can provide a happy ending with these massages?" Brass wisecracked.
"Um, you're on your own for that or maybe Triana can oblige you," Iris said drolly.
"What makes you say that?" he asked sharply.
"I just get the distinct impression there's chemistry between you," Iris said cryptically.
"Whatever," he muttered.
"Your energy seems better tonight," Iris observed, returning from the bathroom after washing the massage oil from her hands, to redirect their conversation.
"Jump in here with me and lets test that theory," Jim said rakishly with a cocked eyebrow.
"What if I did?" Iris challenged softly.
"As long as it's consensual," Jim shot back.
"You're impossible at times," Iris exclaimed in exasperation and stalked out of the room, hearing his raspy laughter behind her only compounded her frustration.
"Hey, wait," Jim called after her but she didn't acknowledge him.
Iris retreated to the kitchen and put a pot of water on to boil. A cup of Earl Grey tea is what she craved and some quiet time to enjoy it by. Brass padded up quietly behind her, her focus on the stove such that she didn't hear him.
"Iris?"
She spun on her heel in fright with a sound between a squeal and a hiccup. The sudden shift in balance caused her to stumble and Jim caught her and her face was pressed against his chest in an awkward embrace. Her face tilted up at him with doe eyes wide in surprise while she stammered. "I'm sorry, you startled me."
Several moments passed as neither moved while still holding one another. Brass finally cleared his throat as he moved back, "I can be a jerk sometimes."
"Sometimes?" Iris considered with a slight smile. "I was trying to be a smart aleck too."
"You're making something else?" Jim asked with a nod at the stove.
"Boiling some water for your herbal tea and me some Earl Grey," Iris replied, pulling the pot off the burner when the water started to roil.
"I'll get the Jack Daniels' for you to put in," Brass turned to go and then added, "only for medicinal purposes."
"Right, you've got a lot of ailments then for the variety of so-called medicinal preparations out there in your mini-bar," Iris countered.
"Actually, Iris, I've had that problem in the past," Brass divulged, returning with a shot glass of dark amber liquid.
"Heavens, Jim, did you have to go to AA or something like that?" Iris asked in surprise.
"Not quite. I got it worked out over time. You don't have to worry about my sobriety even though I've got the stuff here. I've proved to myself I can drink in moderation and I haven't tied one on in quite a while," Jim informed her.
"Catherine said you keep some intestinal fortitude at work," Iris said.
"Yeah, that's true but it's never on duty and I'm by the book on that," Brass admitted with candor.
"I admire your gaining control of it. My dad was a functional alcoholic for some years before he was finally able to get his life back on track. He calls it the devil's dance because each day the devil doesn't win he does," Iris disclosed.
"Is he still around?" Jim queried.
"He's a semi-retired dentist in New York City now. He specializes in sports dentistry and his clientele are major sports figures, college or high school players," Iris replied, deftly preparing the two tea mugs.
"Let's head to the living room," Jim recommended.
"Okay, man of the house," Iris agreed, Brass finding he liked the sound of that for some odd reason.
Jim got settled into his recliner and leaned back to enjoy his tea with its large shot of whiskey. "I'll sleep good tonight."
Iris spied his book case. "Could I look over your books?"
"Knock yourself out," Jim said between deep sips of the tea.
"Ah, you and I both like historical biographies, Reader's Digest condensed books and sports too," Iris told him as her fingers ran over the titles of the books.
"You might be surprised to hear I have a college degree in history I got after coming back from Vietnam," Jim mentioned.
"No, I'm not surprised to hear that and I find that an interesting facet to add to your dynamic make-up," Iris remarked with an appraising stare she tried to cleverly veil while leafing through a book she'd pulled out.
"Are you feeding me a line?" Brass grunted.
"No, I say that with patent sincerity," Iris said with an emphatic head shake.
"You have a quirky way of stringing words together," Jim noted with a faint chuckle.
"One is glad to be of service and the source of your amusement," Iris said before she found an item in one of the lower bookshelves. "Jim, do you play?"
"Play what?" he asked.
Iris returned carrying a chess set that she placed on the coffee table by the recliner and couch.
"Yeah, Gil comes over once in a while," Brass disclosed, "do you?"
"Yes but it looks like you had a game in progress with him but maybe we could engage in one some time," Iris observed and Jim heard a hopeful tone.
"That game started a couple of months ago. He comes by if he's got a difficult case going. We usually finish the game at some point but didn't this time. Yeah, I'll take you on in a game but what are the stakes?" Jim challenged.
"You can name them, sir, and I never welsh," Iris returned before she finished her tea.
"Not tonight though I'm fading fast," Jim said with a wide yawn and drained his own tea mug.
"I look forward to it. Do you need help getting to bed? I recommend using the Vick's a few more nights and I'll do a round of PDT on you after your breathing treatment," Iris inquired as he got up from the recliner.
"No, I'm good. When will you be back?" Jim replied taking her mug and going to the kitchen.
"I'd like to come back in the morning and see how you're doing. I can then make us breakfast while you do your ginger bath and then shower. I'd come back later to prepare lunch and do the same early in the evening to fix dinner," Iris proposed.
"How much is this all going to cost me?" Brass asked in jest.
"Oh, I'll just reap what I sow," Iris said with a wink.