Untitled

Fandom: CSI: Vegas
Spoilers: A Bullet Runs Through It Part 1 & 2
Rated: G

Had the idea already, this is an expansion done today.

Thanksgiving was easy enough to get through, it was only a meal after all. But with each day that passed there after, the quiet of his house only got harder and harder to bear. Which was why he spent more time at work, not necessarily working, but putting up the effort to make it seem that way. And truth be told, work was where the only people he considered family resided. He had yet to decide if that was good or bad, since his reference for family had vanished long ago.

Perhaps this notion of family had blinded him, but he honestly didn't think so. When it came to women, he was just blind. His ex-wife, his daughter- it had all fallen apart as he watched, too involved in his work, hoping he could fix it later, hoping the reassurances of understanding were genuine in spite of the truth visible around their eyes. And now work was all he had- certainly no surprises there.

This year was especially hard, taking the life of a young cop, then being shot himself- it was enough to make him wonder what would happen if he gave up the badge. Would he just disappear with nothing left to define him? It was a step that required more courage than simply staying the same, so he went back to work, some fresh ink marking the latest of errors in his life.

Thinking it was only out of his ingrained sense of duty, he'd visited Bell's widow. He'd offered his sympathies once again and asked if there was anything he could do to make her holiday a little easier. She was friendly enough, inviting him in, pressing a cup of coffee into his hand.

A smile curved her lips and touched her eyes, but her young face was tight.

The little boy played in the living room well within the sight of his mother, happily babbling to his toys. Brass couldn't help but look at the child whenever a silence fell between him and Mrs. Bell, which was often. After approximately the tenth time, she suddenly asked, "Would you like to hold him?"

Unprepared for the question, Brass had tried to shake off the fear and conflicting desire that it had given rise to within his chest. She was already up and moving before he could begin to protest and a moment later, a warm, wriggling little ball of energy was plopped into his lap.

Immediately, the boy reached up and poked a finger into Jim's smiling mouth. The other hand patted his cheek and then took hold of his nose. Helpless, Jim laughed while the boy's mother attempted to remove him from the baby's grasp.

He protested again, this time to keep her from stealing away the child, whose soft pats and sharp pinches were both innocent, yet purposeful. There were things (mouth, nose, eyes, ears) to be examined and tested for their limits, and Jim wasn't about to stand in the way of that.

Without much guidance, the boy learned to give a very hearty wet willy and practiced it diligently until a loud grunt exuded from him paired with a quick red flush to his face. His mother had now heard enough and swooped in to take the aromatic tyke from the police captain, her face tinged with the slightest blush. Jim assured her that he wouldn't take it personally and thanked her for her time, backing toward the door as she looked on with a broken expression marring her pretty features. Jim started down the walk and reached his car thinking he'd escaped, when the door opened behind him.

"Captain?"

Jim turned back without hesitation. "Yes, ma'am?"

The child rested on his mother's hip, one hand stuffed into his mouth, the other squeezing the fullness of his mother's breast. She didn't seem to notice, her eyes were intent on something near Jim, but not directly on him.

"Would you.. could you come back? Again?" The words came out tightly, like she was trying to hold her breath as she spoke. Or bracing for the answer.

The tension of the event between them was obvious, but the young widow had had more grace than Brass realized. Or maybe it was forgiveness. Brass had even less experience with that in his life. And most definitely not from a woman.

He supposed that here there was nothing more he could do to disappoint her. He'd done his worst and she still had asked him back. Jim didn't quite understand it, except to think that her notion of family was nearly as broken as his.

Except for the little boy. With or without the badge, Jim knew what would define him to this child. And he already mourned the day it would come to pass. . .