babs
Academy Graduate
Creator of the CSI: Miami Manwhores Club =)
Posts: 245
|
Post by babs on Feb 28, 2009 17:09:17 GMT -5
A/N: This has to be one of my favorite ones that I've done so far =) Characters: Ryan, Jess (OC) Genre: Romance66. Snow “Knowing Jess, she’ll steal you away and drag you off to go see the Brooklyn Bridge." “Why?” “Well, first of all, she’s madly in love with it. She wants to be kissed while standing below it one day.” “And you’re telling me this because?” “Secondly, she’s madly in love with you.” Though he’d hate to admit it, Renae had been right. It was their last full day in New York, and Jess had pulled him away from the rest of their Anger Management Class, which was spending the week in the Big Apple. Supposedly, it was their last test; survive the hustle and bustle of New York, and you pass the class. Jess saw it as an opportunity to go home and visit her family. They had ditched the group within the first few hours of being in the city, and had sought out her father and brother who were at their precinct. The days after that, she had taken him to see Lady Liberty, showed him Grand Central Station, and had taken him to the ice pond she had skated on growing up. Now they were here, staring up at the enormous bridge looming above, and all he could think about was what Renae had said. The fact that Scott, Jess’ younger brother, had told him to “take good care” of his sister didn’t help much either. Ryan eyed the woman next to him. Jess was staring up at the bridge, the lights on it reflecting in her hazel eyes. Something about the cold made her skin look absolutely radiant; perhaps because it was in its comfort temperature? He didn’t know, but it looked stunning. Like the freshly fallen snow they had watched ice over the other day. Sparkly. “Isn’t it the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen?” her voice was soft, even though it broke the silence of the cold air. Ryan shrugged. “Nah, but it’s up there.” The Italian turned to him. “Then what is?” “Oh, the Aurora Borealis, the Grand Canyon at sunset, the beaches of Cape Cod at the crack of dawn.” “Liar,” Jess smirked, and turned her eyes back to the bridge. “Now why would you say that?” “You can’t say that they’re more beautiful when you haven’t seen them in person.” “What makes you think that I haven’t seen them in person?” “First off, you’d most likely have to go to Alaska or Canada to see the Northern Lights. Well, anywhere cold. And I must say, I think Renae adapted to the cold faster than you have.” He sighed. “Okay, so I haven’t seen the Northern Lights other than in pictures. Doesn’t mean I haven’t seen the others.” “Do you even know which state Cape Cod is in?” she posed the question. “...No.” “Massachusetts.” “Thanks for the geography lesson.” Jess scowled. “Just saying,” “I know, I know.” Ryan said, patting her shoulder. “I really did go see the Grand Canyon though. River rafting trip.” “With who? Boy scouts?” Jess smirked. “No!” he scowled. “Family trip. Dad’s idea of fun. Mom promised us Disney World, but Dad bitched about how he had always wanted to see the Grand Canyon.” Jess nodded. “I’ve been to, well, Jersey, here, Florida, Massachusetts, and Washington state. Washington was my dad’s idea of fun.” The two stood, silent, as a light snow began to fall. “So,” Ryan said, puffing out steamed air. “Why does this bridge fascinate you so much?” Jess tilted her head, and thought over her response. “I really don’t know. It’s just...I don’t know. I could see it from my bedroom window when I was a kid. I’d look at it every night, and for some reason, it just gave me hope; hope that I’d be able to have a wonderful life. So finally, I got my Dad to take me here. And I saw this couple standing together, just looking up at the bridge. The man turned to the woman, smiled, and then they kissed. It was magical, and I wanted that. So after that, every night, I would wish that I could be in that woman’s shoes one day. It’s just one of those silly things you dream about as a kid.” “No, it’s not silly at all.” he gently pulled her closer to him. “What are you doing?” Jess asked, a confused look on her face. Ryan looked into her eyes. “Jess, everyone wants their dream to come true. You made mine come true, so now it’s time for me to make yours come true.” And with that, he leaned in, and gave Jess her dream kiss.
|
|
|
Post by jaglady on Mar 1, 2009 16:42:10 GMT -5
Aw. Great one, Babs. And yes, I lived in WA for several years. Lots of great memories, especially deep in the Cascades.
|
|
babs
Academy Graduate
Creator of the CSI: Miami Manwhores Club =)
Posts: 245
|
Post by babs on Mar 4, 2009 19:19:20 GMT -5
A/N: Shiny's seen the picture that somewhat goes along with this =) I'll post it on the other thread Characters: Eric, Renae (OC) Genre: Romance41. Citric Acid Renae stared at the orange that sat in the fruit bowl on the glass coffee table. To eat, or not to eat? God. Now she was making a pun out of Shakespeare’s greatest piece. Then again, she did like The Taming of the Shrew better. The redhead then looked to her fingernails...or therefore lack of. Her sister called her a hypocrite; a “germaphobe who chewed her nails”. Renae’s last orange-peeling attempt hadn’t gone so well. The outcome had been orange juice. And screaming. Apparently Jess didn’t like to get citric acid in her eyes. Her stomach growled. Renae scowled. Why did Ryan have to take the last apple? He knew that she always ate the last apple! Bastard! She’d have to bitch to Jess about it. Then again, Jess would probably just turn five shades of red and say that it was none of her business. The fact that she hadn’t even bothered to ask him out yet bothered the crap out of Renae. She had twenty bucks on them getting together before the year ended! As she thought over the possibility of actually attempting to peel the orange, Eric walked into the break room. He looked to Renae, and then followed her gaze to the table where the damned fruit sat. Smirking, he snatched up the orange. Renae slowly turned to look at him. “But...I was...going to...” He raised a brow at her, and then started to peel the orange. “Are you sending me a metaphorical message?” she asked, and squinted her eyes at him. “Nope.” She watched as he continued peeling the orange; her lunch lost. Eric threw the peel into the garbage. Renae rested her eyes on the garbage can. A hand was then brought in front of her face; in it, the orange. She stared up at him. “I love you.”
|
|
babs
Academy Graduate
Creator of the CSI: Miami Manwhores Club =)
Posts: 245
|
Post by babs on Apr 18, 2009 20:21:15 GMT -5
A/N: For JagLady! Hope you feel better soon =) And yes, the other IAB guy is named Vlad. Because there's a kid at McDonald's named Vlad. Characters: Everyone, Renae (OC), Emmalyn Stockburne (JagLady) Genre: Humour
56. Biohazard
It was a beautiful Friday morning in Miami. The sun was shining, the palm leaves were sparkling, and the Miami Dade Crime Lab was bustling with excitement over the sunny weekend that was to come. Everyone was in a good mood, including the usually sullen Sergeant Stetler. Rick walked into the air conditioned building, a bounce in his step. Today was the day! The day he had been waiting to come for the past three weeks: New laptop day. Emmie, the senior cybertech, had found him the perfect one, at last! It was a drop-proof, spill resistant, Panasonic Toughbook. Sure, it was kind of bulky, but hey, he wasn’t one to fuss over the look of a computer. Besides, the pretty ones always somehow ended up being destroyed. Whistling along, he made his way to the AV Lab. “Good morning, Em! I’m here to pick up my--” he stopped as he saw Tyler, rather than Emmie, sitting at the desk. Tyler stared at him. “Your laptop, sir?” “Uh,” was all he could muster. What was he supposed to do without Emmie? Giving a frustrated sigh, Tyler spun around in his chair and grabbed the hardy laptop off of the desk. “Here you go, sir.” Rick stared at the laptop. “May I ask where Miss Stockburne is?” “She slipped and broke her elbow, and had to have a surgical pin put in.” The sergeant nodded. “Okay, uh, thanks.” Tyler handed him the laptop, and then watched him leave. Shaking his head, the AV Tech muttered, “Wonder how long it’ll take him to wreck that thing.”
Rick briskly placed the laptop on his desk, and then slowly sank down into his chair. “Okay, this shouldn’t be too difficult. First thing I do is open it, after all.” he thought to himself. He stared at the contraption. Emmie had always used some little tab at the front of the computer, and it always magically let her open the laptop. Well, unless it was a Mac; apparently those computers didn’t have an opening tab. Rick placed his finger on what looked to be an identical tab. However, the tab wouldn’t go in. Frowning, the sergeant pushed the tab again. Nothing. Damnit! He couldn’t even open the stupid thing! Hm. He’d have to find out how to open it. Peering out of his office window, he looked over at his co-worker’s empty office. Suddenly, the elevator door rang, and IAB Agent Vlad Morris stepped out of it. Rick’s eyes traced the man to his desk. He watched as Vlad sat down and pulled out his own laptop. The man then pushed the front tab to the right, and while doing so, pulled open the top. So that was the secret! Rick raised a brow at his computer. “I’ve figured you out, you sneaky bastard!” He quickly looked up to see if Vlad had heard him. Nope. That guy had always had selective hearing anyway. Rick took in a deep breath, and pushed the tab to the right. With his left hand, he pried open the top of the computer. Success! It was now open! Now he had to turn it on. Okay, he could figure that out. With a proud look on his face, Rick turned on the laptop.
“Hey Tyler,” CSI and Arson Investigator Renae Richardson said as she entered the AV Lab. “Did Em get that pin put in her elbow yet?” “Yeah, she had the surgery yesterday. I think they made her stay over night. She didn’t sound too pleased over the phone,” the tech replied, and then added, “Though she did sound absolutely stoned off of morphine.” Renae grinned. “Of course. So, did she tell you when she’d be back?” “She said at least by Monday.” he sighed. “I don’t think we’ll last that long though.” “Why?” “Rick got his new laptop today.” “Oh,” she made a face. “That thing will be destroyed by the end of the day.” Tyler snorted. “No doubt. It’s a Toughbook too. So that might give the laptop’s lifespan an extra hour or so.” “Might,” she scoffed. “You want me to go check up on him? I have nothing to do at the moment anyway.” “Sure,” he nodded. “Page me if it’s really bad.” “Will do.”
“Ricky Boy?” Renae poked her head into the sergeant’s office. Well, what used to be an office. Papers were skewered all over the room, there was a giant coffee spill on the over-turned desk, and the rest of the office wasn’t any better. “Right here,” a voice came from behind the desk. Frowning, Renae carefully stepped around the desk. She found the sergeant sitting cross-legged behind the desk, his laptop in his lap. “What the hell did you do?” “Oh,” he waved it off. “Collateral damage. No biggy; I got it figured out now.” Renae glanced around the room. “So, what were you trying to figure out that required destroying your office?” “Oh, well, I was trying to find the internet port.” “Uh huh,” she eyed him cautiously. “So I figured that it was probably on the desk somewhere. How else could all of my previous computers connect to the internet port? I came to the conclusion that the common factor was my desk.” Rick explained. “So, I started looking for the port. I guessed that it would have to be somewhere in the center of my desk, because my computers are always placed there.” The CSI rubbed her temple. “Then what happened?” “I pushed my laptop off to the left, but then my right arm knocked my coffee over onto the space I was going to check for the port. I freaked out because I had paperwork all over my desk, and I thought I destroyed the port! But then I thought that maybe it was attached to the underside of the desk, so I flipped my desk over so I could see it.” “And why didn’t you just climb under your desk?” Renae raised a brow. Rick scowled. “Hey, I’m not the leanest guy here, Renae.” “So, why are you sitting on the floor?” “Oh, well, I didn’t find it under the desk,” said the sergeant. “I tried locations in the rest of my office, but still no port. So, then I figured that the port must be below me in the lab, and I just can’t get the signal right now!” Renae then noticed what looked to be a radio antenna sticking out of the headphones jack. “Rick, that is the most--” “Brilliant idea I’ve ever had? I know!” he rose from the floor, laptop in hand. “Well, I’m going down to the lab to find the port!” “Rick,” her voice showed her desperation. “Do you want me to help you find the internet port? It’s actually quite simple.” “No!” he replied sharply as he stepped out of his office. “I can do this by myself!” Renae groaned. It was going to be a long day.
Natalia stood at the desk in DNA, cutting swabs and extracting the DNA from the saliva on them. Valera was next to her, preparing the samples for the centrifuge. As the women worked away, Stetler stepped into the room. Valera frowned as she felt the presence behind her, and looked over her shoulder. “Can we help you, sir?” “Oh, no,” he replied quietly. “I’m just trying to find the port. Hm. It’s not in here. I better go try Trace.” The older woman turned to Valera, a confused look on her face. “The port?” Valera shrugged. “Don’t know, but he had a radio antenna or something sticking out of one of the jacks on his laptop.” “You’re kidding me, right?” “Nope,” she shook her head. “Hopefully Tyler doesn’t go postal before Emmie gets back.”
“Horatio,” Ryan, with Eric at his side, said as he approached the man. “We need to report suspicious activity.” Eric snorted. “More like stupidity,” Their boss frowned, and then turned to them. “Okay. Report away.” “Well,” Ryan took a breath. “We walked into Trace, and Sergeant Stetler was in there doing something.” “What was he doing?” the lieutenant questioned. “Uh,” the younger CSI rubbed the back of his head, and looked to Eric. Eric took his cue. “We’re not quite sure, but he was looking for something on the desk...and he knocked over the Hydrochloric acid and it spilled onto his laptop.” Horatio sighed. “How much HCl did we lose?” “Well, someone,” Eric shot Ryan a dirty look. “Didn’t cap it properly, so, well, the whole bottle emptied out onto Stetler’s laptop.” “And the laptop?” “Oh, it survived. It’s one of those Toughbooks,” Ryan answered. “However, it sure has nasty burn marks on the cover now.” “Okay, where is Rick now?” “I think he went to Ba--” Eric was cut off by a giant CRASH! coming from the direction of the Ballistics lab. “Ballistics.” Shaking their heads, the trio quickly made their way to the Ballistics lab. Calleigh stood in the doorway, fuming. “What happened?” Horatio asked right away. Calleigh pointed into the lab. They all looked to see Rick standing next to the toppled gun shelf. The sergeant waved his hand. “Sorry! I was looking for the port!” Everyone frowned. “The what?” Eric asked. “The port?” Ryan cocked his head to the side. Calleigh clenched her fists. “You better help clean this up, Stetler!” “Sorry,” Rick picked his way through the pile of firearms. “But I’m busy right now. I have to find the port!” The CSI’s watched the man walk away. “What the hell’s wrong with that guy?” Ryan asked the question that was on all of their minds.
Four Hours Later...
Senior Cybertech Emmalyn Stockburne sat in the break room of the lab, her cast-bearing arm resting in her lap. “So, how much damage was done?” “Well,” Renae started. “His office was practically destroyed, for one. He broke a shelf of beakers in Arson, and sprained his wrist when he fell off of the bench in the locker room. I think he was checking on top of the lockers.” Emmie groaned, and rubbed her forehead. “What else?” “He emptied a bottle of Hydrochloric acid on his laptop,” said Ryan. “Knocked over the gun shelf in Ballistics,” Calleigh added dryly. “He pulled out all of the wires in AV,” Tyler, who looked like he had aged ten years, now spoke. “So the internet, among other things, was shut down for everything in the lab. It took me three hours to get everything up and running again.” “What are we talking about?” Eric asked as he stepped into the break room. “What Rick destroyed,” Renae answered, taking one of the coffees from his hands. “Ah,” he sat down beside her. “Well, he spilled three containers of fingerprint dust all over his laptop, and broke the soap dispenser in the men’s bathroom. Natalia and Valera were spared from any damage in DNA.” “So much for being dust proof,” Emmie sighed. “Do we know where he got the antenna from?” “We’re not done,” Renae interrupted. “He scared Anna from QD out of the women’s bathroom, and then stuck the end of the antenna into an outlet. I was surprised that the computer survived. And this doesn’t include the twenty plus times he dropped the thing.” “And the biggest damage was caused when he finally grew frustrated with the laptop, and threw it through my office window.” Horatio concluded the damages list. “Okay, so this all adds up to...” Emmie attempted to calculate the cost in her head. “Over five grand.” “Great, just great,” she leaned back into the couch, and cast a glance at her arm. “This is the last time I ever get surgery.” “If it makes you feel any better, the laptop survived the fall out the window,” Renae said in a lighter tone. “But then Ryan accidentally ran it over with the Hummer.” Emmie let out another groan. “So, what the hell was Rick trying to find anyway?” “The internet port, I believe.” replied Renae. “You’re kidding me, right?” “I tried to tell him that he just had to click the internet icon in the task bar, and then to choose ‘connect to port’ and choose which network to use, but he didn’t want my help.” “I guess we’ll be seeing you tomorrow, then?” Ryan asked. Emmie looked to Tyler. “Yeah. I think Tyler will go postal and start killing people if he has to deal with Rick tomorrow.”
“Sergeant Stetler?” Emmie called as she stepped into the doorway of his office, which looked like a hurricane had gone through it. “Yes, Em?” the man looked up from the coffee stain on his desk. “Oh! Did you come to show me where the internet port was? ‘Cause I kind of...destroyed my laptop by accident. I really don’t know what I did to cause all that damage to it!” Emmie raised a brow, but refrained from exploding on him. “Sergeant Stetler, I did not come to tell you where the internet port is.” “Oh,” his face fell. “Then why are you here?” “Sir,” she stepped over to his desk, and patted him on the shoulder. “I came to say congratulations, you are the first person in the world to ever destroy a Toughbook. Now have a nice day, and please do not come within ten feet of the AV Lab, or any computer device, for the next four years.” He frowned. “Why four years?” “Because that, sir, is how long it will take to pay back the five thousand dollar deficit in the budget. Better break out the pens and paper, Rick. Collecting blackmail’s going to be a bitch.”
|
|