Title: Untitled Brass-Centric Ficlet
By: Caroline Crane
Pairing: Nick/Greg
Rating: PG
Series: Banana Pancakes, Better Together, Wasting Time, Inaudible Melodies, What You Would Need, Someday at Chirstmas, (Don't Let Your) Dreams Be Dreams, Untitled
Note: I don't even trust my Brass voice, so I struggled.

All day long, people have been asking him if he's okay. "Sure you're feeling alright, Jim? You look a little under the weather." "Wouldn't kill you to take a sick day once in awhile, you know." "If you're out here passing a cold around..." After a few hours he just stops listening, but that doesn't stop people from asking over and over until he wants to give in and go home just to shut them all up.

And the thing is, he's fine. A little tired, maybe, but that comes with the job. He's used to it, used to looking wrung out and used to people moving on and leaving him behind. Not that he took Grissom's leaving personally. He didn't take it personally when Rick got himself killed, either, or when Sophia filled out some transfer paperwork and left like...well. There was nothing there worth holding onto, he figures, if she could walk away so easily. Grissom leaving hit a little harder, but Jim knew it wasn't about him. It was about Grissom trying to hold onto the same thing Jim had let walk away, and in the end they all had to make their own choices.

So he's not sleeping all that well, but that's not because of any personnel changes on the job. He's just a little restless -- happens to the best of them -- and he'll get over it just as soon as everyone stops asking what's wrong.

A uniform lifts the tape surrounding the crime scene and Nick ducks under it, followed by the new guy. He moves a little awkwardly, like he's still not so sure how he got here and whether or not he belongs. Jim nods at Nick as he passes on his way into the house, taking Nick's grim expression and curt greeting to mean that Greg's still out of town. He squeezes his eyes shut to chase away the thought, squeezing the bridge of his nose before he opens his eyes again. When he does Ray's standing in front of him, watching him cautiously and Jim braces himself for a doctor's version of 'you should be home drinking tea'.

"Professor."

"Nice to see you, Captain. Of course I wish it was under different circumstances."

"Yeah, well, circumstances usually don't get much better around here," Jim says, shrugging and glancing toward the house where David's wheeling a gurney through the front door with the help of a couple of uniforms.

"Part of the job," Ray says, nodding and looking toward the crime scene. "I should get to it, I suppose. But I wanted to ask a favor, if I may."

Brass braces himself for the inevitable; he wonders if Catherine's behind getting the doctor to send him home, and he wonders just how hard he's going to have to work to convince Ray that he's fine. Just the thought of that argument makes him even more tired, and he weighs the options of telling Ray that he's not handing out favors tonight. Instead he fixes Ray his most businesslike stare. "Shoot."

"I was hoping I could stop by your office sometime and go over some of the protocols with you. I've never worked in law enforcement before, which has me at a bit of a disadvantage compared to the rest of my team. It would be a big help to me, but I realize you're very busy. If you're too pressed for time..."

The question takes Jim by surprise, because he really was expecting to be cornered into some weird heart-to-heart about why he looks so run down if he's not actually sick. He doesn't have an answer for that one, other than business as usual, and that's nobody's business. But Ray's just looking at him like he really is interested in police procedure, and he probably does feel pretty lost most of the time out in the field. He's a smart guy -- Grissom wouldn't have recruited him if he wasn't -- but smarts can't make up for experience in every situation.

"Yeah, sure," he hears himself say, and when Ray smiles he feels a little better about the whole thing. Gives him something to do, anyway, and he can recite protocol in his sleep. "Tell you what, I'll buy you breakfast after shift and give you some pointers."

"Thank you, Captain," Ray says, and he's so damn sincere that Jim wonders sometimes if he's for real.

"Don't mention it. And call me Jim."