CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX (DING DONG THE WHICH IS DEAD....)
Jim awoke, to the sound of his ring tone.
The man threw the throw off, reaching across the coffee table and the pizza box to his duty belt. He had stripped it off some time in the night. He didn't remember doing so.
He must have been a little out of it.
"..Yeah?" He answered groggily, trying to shake the cobwebs from his head. He cleared his throat, trying again. "Brass.." He listened to Carlos Rivera on the other end of the line for a beat. "No..it's ok." He dismissed. "I'm probably running late anyway. Thanks for the wake up call."
Brass glanced around the empty rooms, searching for the one thing he did not see..half listening to Rivera.
"Well, that's the day shift's problem..what do we have to do with it?"
"They say they need a head honcho..you're the only 'head honcho' I know." The man explained. "Stevens is up in Northern California..remember..trout fishing?"
"..Alright." Brass grumbled. "Give me the address." He sought a pen and paper, finding one by the land line on the table to his right. "..Wait...1612?" He had not heard correctly, or at least..he thought he had written the incorrect numbers.
"1618, Captain..Over by the freeway." Rivera said, sipping his morning coffee. "You gotta see this place. They've outdone themselves! My teenagers are going to want to move here! I love this place. I want to marry this place."
"A mall is a mall is a mall, Carlos..and with your track record....you'd think 'marriage' would be the furthest thing from your mind."
"Let's not cast aspersions, Captain.." Carlos feigned 'hurt'. "You just wait until you see it..you'll change your mind!"
"I am all atwitter." Brass replied.
"Isn't that the texting thing?"
"You've been around Major Tom too long.." Brass shook his head. "Be there when I can. You're in charge until then."
"That's a big 'ten-four' buddy."
"Uh huh." Brass hung up the phone, arising. "Weena?" He called out, as he traversed the hallway leading to the back of his house. He glanced into the first bedroom..his weight room, on his way past. Nothing. The 'guest' room was also unoccupied. His 'guest' had better bring his own bed, cause..Brass didn't have one yet.
To his credit, he had only been in the house seven years. He was working on the problem..drawing up blue prints. It was a 'man' thing.
His bedroom was just as he left it, bed unmade, clothes hanging off chair backs, chest and dresser tops covered with briefing reports, old cleaner claim tickets, gum wrappers, his spare duty belt..odd mismatched socks he had thrown out of his sox drawer when getting ready for work. Change, a few watches that still worked...his police arm patches..a pair of reading glasses and a picture of himself and Grissom on a fishing trip last year and of course..a graduation picture of Ellie.
Everything..but Weena.
Jim leaned against the door facing, his mood sinking fast. For one brief horrible moment, he thought he had dreamed the entire 'meeting' thing last night.
He felt sick to his stomach.
Then...his front door clicked open. He heard the rustle of paper bags and the ending bars of 'Queen's'...Somebody To Love.
He practically ran the length of the hallway.
Weena was loaded down with grocery bags. She stopped in 'mid-sing'..beaming him a smile. "Good morning, Jim Brass. You were out of..well, everything." She shrugged the slender shoulders, putting two bags on the kitchen table the..she cut him a look. "...Should I put these somewhere else?"
"..What?" He was trying to assemble all the thoughts in his head, and most of all..settle his pounding pulse down.
"Are we going to make use of the table, or.." She glanced at the object in question. "Or you simply...a big liar."
He..got it, chuckling his nervous stomach away finally. She was real..it had been no dream. "Hey..if you want me to fuck you on the table, I'll fuck you on the table." He cocked his head to one side then did a little wig-wag.. "But I think you're just trying to stall that pool game cause you know.." He gave his most innocent expression. "I'll beat the panties off ya."
"The question is mute...this table is so laden down with things..one would never find any space for..such an activity."
"They just sweep it all off in the movies." He helped her unload a bag, feeling kinda useless just standing, watching her do all the work.
"I do not think so." She vetoed that idea. "It is hell for me to bend these days. Perhaps the bar?" She was willing to compromise.
"You are too short for the bar."
"Do not even go there." She warned, sensitive about her height. "There are more bags in the car..which, by the way..is amazing to operate!"
Jim..halted putting the bread into the bread thingy. "..What?" He turned, his expression...guarded and..terrified.
"It was difficult at first, I was unsure as to the significance of the lettering on the steering mechanism..but, it is really quite simplistic in nature once you..."
"Weena!" He was..ok,...appalled. "You can't drive! Did you drive my car??"
"How else was I to get to a food retailer? You were asleep." She grinned over at him. "Where does this go?" She held up the peanut butter. "And..I used my old bank cards..they are still 'open'..it seems. Although, just to make certain" she dug in the pocket of those tight fitting jeans. How she got her hand in there..Brass would never know. "I..borrowed some paper currency from your wallet. You really are a very trusting man, you know...leaving your wallet out in plain sight where just anyone can take your hard earned wages."
She handed the money back, holding it out for him to take.
"You drove my car?" Brass threw the bills aside, unto the counter. "You don't even have a license! That's a company vehicle!"
She stepped, her arms going about his neckline, leaning against him comfortably. "Are you going to punish me for being ..bad?"
He...let it go. "...Gonna go shower now."
He pinched her ass which caused her to grab the spot..giving him freedom to move.
She pouted at him. "I blatantly offer myself to you and you walk away?" She scowled hard at him. "No pancakes for you. It's cold cereal and burnt toast.. I do burnt toast very well, by the way."
"I do.. 'punishment' very well.." He held his smile. "By the way... Eggs, bacon and lightly browned toast. I'll be back in about fifteen minutes. I want my breakfast on the table, you naked..preferably bare foot." He smiled a shit eating smile. "Got the 'knocked up' part down pat already." He turned, making his way down the hall. "And my briefcase and coffee ready to go when I return."
"Or you could simply take me out to eat." She called after him. "I do not mind the barefoot, naked part if the other customers will be open-minded about such things, however."
"Amusing." He threw a dirty shirt at her..hitting her hard in the face.
She giggled, returning to the groceries. "Can I watch?" She called to him, flushing a bit for her own boldness.
"Shut up!" He yelled down the hall. "It's too early for you to be blushing and stammering all over the place. That's what I get for not choosing a real woman to amuse me, instead of a little bratty child."
"Well.." She tried to open the tupper ware container she had bought. "Get used to it. I want my child to be a brat as well. Spoiled and obnoxious and..just a horrible excuse for a human being. I give fair warning."
"Just like it's mom." Jim splashed his face with water, searching for his toothbrush.
"I heard that." She raised her voice.
Jim was kinda surprised that she had, he had not spoken loudly, after all, but..to himself.
He..chuckled, turning on the water in the shower. "What a nut bar..what the hell have I gotten myself into."
"I heard that as well." She called back to him.
"Go fuck yourself..did you hear that?" He yelled before laughing his delight. It was the best morning he had had in a goodly number of months.
"That isn't very nice." She frowned..cutting a scolding look to the appropriate area of the house. "Besides..it's no fun alone." She muttered, on her way out to the car for more treasures.
Brass lathered up...reaching for his shampoo... 'That's one for the 'cop guy'.." He..grinned, humming... 'Young At Heart'.
CSI CSI CSI CSI CSI CSI CSI CSI CSI CSI CSI CSI CSI CSI CSI CSI CSI CSI CSI CSI CSI
Brass waited, while the phone rang. This was not going to be easy. He had put it off as long as he could without being a total dickhead. Haley had gone to take her shower. He ceased the time to do what had to be done.
"Agent Meadows." Haley had not looked at the 'caller I.D.' screen. Merely answered her phone
Jim felt his heart sink right along with his spirits. "Hello, Agent Meadows." He managed keep his tone light. "How's the world treating you today?"
Haley perked up instantly, her hand gripping the phone tightly. "Hi." She offered feebly, grimacing for such a lame response. "I'm..good." She lied. She hadn't been 'good' all morning. She had fretted over the fact..he had not called, and more importantly..had not visited.
"Are you still at the hospital?"
"They say I can bail as soon as the doctor gives the go-ahead. He's supposed to be here soon." She cast Duvalier a fretful glance. She had waited all morning for this call.
"Listen..I'm sorry about not connecting last night. Something came up. Could we get together sometime today?" Brass was not looking forward to the meet..not at all. "Whenever you're free."
"..Yeah, of course." Haley tried to sound 'chipper', but she sensed something amiss with the man. "..Is..is anything wrong?"
"No." Jim tried to reassure her. "Nah, it's just..something I need to discuss with you."
"..Ok, I'll..call you then, when..I know something." The woman felt a cold chill run down her spine. There was something soooo wrong. She just knew it!
"But, you're ok..really, right?" That part was important to the man. "Have you spoken to a counselor or someone like that?"
"About what?"
"Well, Haley." Jim sighed mentally. "The past few days have been pretty rough for you."
"Oh." She had a tendency to dismiss such things. "No..I'm ok."
"Maybe it would be better if a professional told you that but..alright. Whatever you think." He didn't want to push an issue so personal in nature. Jim knew the FBI would not release her for duty without the usual psych tests. "As long as you are feeling good."
"Yeah." She replied listlessly. "I am."
"Is Duvalier there?" He asked a rhetorical question to his way of thinking...where else would the other man be and for once, Jim was glad for the guy's presence
Haley looked at the other man, sitting in the visitor's chair over by her bed, exchanging a look with Vincent. "...Yes." She answered Brass' inquiry.
"I need to speak to him, ok?" Brass was not looking forward to it. "Just for a few seconds?"
"Oh." Haley's brow furrowed but she held the phone out. "He wants to talk to you."
"Me?" Duvalier unfolded his six-foot frame from the hidiously orange chair, arising..crossing to take the cell. He held Haley's eyes, sensing her turmoil and doubts. The man spoke distinctly into the phone. "..What's up, Brass?"
"A development.." Jim replied. "Grissom told me yesterday afternoon. McBain's..or Gossemer's..who the hell ever..the body disappeared from the CSI lab. I don't know if Haley should be told."
"Excuse me?" The man kept his features composed for he knew Haley was watching his reaction closely.
"They're not sure how it happened and are still searching but..yeah." Brass reported. "The damned thing was stolen or something...why, is anyone's guess."
"I see." The man smiled absently at Haley. "How about that."
"If you think Haley should be told, go for it." Jim trusted the other man's instincts where the woman was concerned. "But, I don't see how the development has any relevance. She's been through a shit load. So..it's your call."
"Ok, I'll handle that then."
"Is she really doing ok?"
"She will be fine." Duvalier shifted confident eyes to the woman.
"..Alright then."
Duvalier handed the phone back. Haley quizzed him with her look but he ignored her for the time being. "Cop stuff." He grinned down at her. "Not for snotty little 'want-a-bes' like you."
"I'm a cop." She muttered dejectedly.
"A 'girl' cop, though." Brass had heard the remark, teasing her in his own way.
"Jim?" She had to know. "Something..IS wrong, right?"
"No, honey..something has come up and we just need to talk, that's all. It'll keep until I see you though." No way in hell was he going to do this crap over a fucking phone.
"Ok." She had little choice, she realized.
"I'll see you in a bit then.." Brass' tone was a gentle one.
"Yeah..ok." She hung up quietly. She turned her attention to.. "What's going on, Vincent?" All sorts of bells were going off in Haley's head. "What did he say to you?"
Duvalier thought about lying. "..Someone took McBain's body from the CSI guys."
"What??" She was flabbergasted. "Why would anyone.."
"Wild, kinky sex?" The man answered her question dutifully.
"Be serious, damn it!" Haley demanded. "What does it mean?"
"I don't know right now.." He calmed her with his manner. "We'll figure it out. Don't freak."
Haley fell silent for a long moment. "He's..different. And he didn't call last night or come by this morning. Something is wrong!" She sought his advice. "What did I do? Do you think he found out about my dad?"
"How the hell could he." Duvalier snapped. "And so what if he did. It wasn't like it was you freakin fault, dumb ass. If he can't SEE that then..."
"McBain found out!" She pointed out.
"It doesn't matter!" He hardened his tone. "It's in the past..it's over. You did NOTHING wrong!"
Haley crossed to the windows of her room looking out on a bright, sunny day. She watched a man walk around the two helicopters sitting on their pads below her in the courtyard of the hospital.
The man wore a blue flight suit with bright orange slits where his name tag was and the emblem on his arm glowed the same garish color. He was checking the aircraft out. Stooping and inspecting each part of the machine.
Further out, the parking lot was filling to capacity on her side of the building..which was the West side. Cars pulled into parking spaces, people getting out, filing into the Main Entrance over to her right.
The mountains were a blue bulk of haze in the far distance, several peaks catching the morning rays, crowning their sharp ridges with a beautiful halo of color and light.
"Did you hear me?" Duvalier turned her around to face him, his hands on her shoulders. He held her eyes willfully. "What happened with your old man had NOTHING to do with you. He is one sick son-of-a-bitch! That has been established."
Haley drew in a long breath, exhaling listlessly.
"You..are a normal, healthy..vibrant woman that has moved past something unbelievably shitty in her life." The man continued. "Something that never should have happened. But..it did and you're handling it just fine. How many times do I have to say it to make you believe it?"
"You always tell me I'm a screwed up looney tune..now, which is it?" She appreciated his efforts in spite of her present mood.
"You're a Gemini..you can be both.." Vincent shrugged. "It's part of your charm..he DID call last night, you were sleeping." He continued, not sure why he found himself defending Brass. "It's only eight o'clock..and he's already called today..what's the problem? You women are so fucking demanding and clingy."
"He sounded..strange." Haley recalled.
"You sound 'strange' every time you open your mouth." He pointed out. "Do we get all whiney and insecure? You have no idea what he is dealing with. Maybe some work issue came up. Hell..maybe he's seen an alien..don't jump to conclusions, Meadows! Rule Number Six..remember?"
"Don't steal your donut..is Rule Number Six." She corrected.
"Whatever the hell number it is then..don't do it. Everything is fine." The man shook his head woefully for such a lack of faith. "He still wants your pussy, so calm the hell down and eat your breakfast."
"WILL you stop being so crude?" She demanded.
"No." He made an 'are you serious' face.
She offered an exasperated sound, crossing to her breakfast tray.
"Give me the bacon..it's bad for your health." The man snatched the morsel before the woman could object. She scowled but..settled on the fruit cup.