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Post by jaglady on Feb 15, 2009 21:18:41 GMT -5
Aw, I know. ;D I luff you too. And no, not that way either.
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babs
Academy Graduate
Creator of the CSI: Miami Manwhores Club =)
Posts: 245
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Post by babs on Feb 17, 2009 22:47:56 GMT -5
EEEEEE MY LOVES
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Post by jaglady on Feb 21, 2009 22:50:18 GMT -5
Here you go. Been a while. --------------------------------------------------------------------------
Implied Knowledge
One (or two or three or four) computer class does not a tech expert make. And sometimes it doesn't help, either.
Senior computer tech Emmie Stockburne and AV tech Tyler Jensen had arrived early that morning to work a high-priority case for Detective Jake Berkeley. Both of them hovered over the AV sound board, interpreting a grainy surveillance tape, when IAB agent Rick Stetler strode in importantly behind them, carrying a folder.
“Emmie? Tyler?” he said pleasantly.
Both techs turned and looked at him warily. Any time Rick was polite, something was about to happen.
“Morning, Sir. Jake’s got a rush case. Need something?” Emmie wanted to know.
He shrugged nonchalantly. “Actually, I just stopped in to say goodbye to the both of you. I’ll no longer need your help.”
Emmie and Tyler looked at one another and then at Rick. “Are you leaving?” Tyler asked.
Rick sniffed. “No, I’m still forced to do this IAB crap. But I’ll also be taking care of my own computer from now on. Which means I won’t have to wait for you all the time.”
Emmie leveled her eyes at him. “Okay Sir. You’re scaring me. How are you going to do that?”
He produced a piece of paper from his folder and handed it to them. “Education credits.”
Emmie stepped forward and took it from him. Tyler raised his eyebrows as he looked on. “Wow. So you’ve been going to tech support classes at night all this time?” Emmie asked. “That’s great!” She smiled genuinely. “I’m really impressed. Congratulations.”
Rick gave her that lofty smile. “In fact, I’ll even give you a few terms. ‘Defrag’ means ‘degragmenting the hard drive.’ And ‘OS’ means ‘operating system.’ So I guess you won’t be hearing from me much anymore. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna go install my voice recognition software, so I can do all my reports myself. But don’t feel too bad; I’ll still stop by once in a while.” With that he walked out confidently.
“God. What are we gonna do with all that free time?” Tyler asked with a chuckle.
Emmie smirked and looked at her watch. “Give it about an hour, Tyler. One thing I’ve learned is when Rick fixes one thing he destroys about ten.”
Fifty-five minutes later the computer lab’s phone chirped. Emmie spun around and picked it up. “Computer lab, Emmie Stockburne. Hey, Sir. Did you click on the Start button? Your list of checked boxes? Did you uninstall the old software when you put in the new? The directions are what we call ‘idiot-proof.’ No Sir, I’m not implying anything about your intelligence. You’re new at--. Hang on. Be easier for me to just come up there.” She sighed and hung up. “I was off by what, five minutes?” she said to Tyler as she grabbed her toolcase.
Emmie peered into Rick’s office to find him sitting at his computer, arms folded, staring daggers in her direction. “Miss Stockburne, can’t you maintain this computer so it works right?” he snarled, motioning at his lifeless monitor.
She stood at a distance. “I can tell you the problem from here, Sir. Do you want to hear it?”
“What!”
“When you rebooted your computer, you forgot to turn it back on. Want me to take care of it?”
Rick stared daggers at her. “I know how to turn a computer on!” he searched the console frantically. “And you don’t have to watch me do it!”
She shrugged with a polite smile. “It’s that button in the front. See you in a little while, Sir.”
Emmie sat in the computer lab, black transcriber in hand, recording her findings on Detective Berkeley’s case when her phone chirped again. She quickly picked it up. “What’s the problem, Sir? Call it a lucky guess. So this time you uninstalled the old program? Great. And you let the program walk you through the process? Your computer’s turned—Okay, okay. Just kidding. Be right there, Sir.” She hung up again and reached for her toolcase. “Tell me about that free time again, Tyler?”
Emmie peeked into the IAB office to find Rick standing, hands on hips, glaring at her and then at the computer console. “Well?”
She gave him a knowing look as she spotted the CD drive poking slightly out of the console. “You said you were installing the new software, Sir?”
“Yeah! What’s wrong with that thing now?” he demanded.
Without another word Emmie patiently opened her toolcase, pulled out her small pliers, and carefully extracted the stubborn drive. With her pliers she then picked up the two mangled CD’s and placed them on the desk in front of him. “Uh, Sir, when the dialogue box tells you to place the new CD in the drive? You’re supposed to take the old one out.”
Rick huffed at her. “It never told me to take the old one out. How do you know that?”
“I learned how to do more than march at Quantico, Sir. And by the way, you trashed your CD drive, so I’ll have to replace it. Do you know how to-- Never mind. You might want to take a break or something.” To prevent the IAB's new computer tech from doing any further damage, she deliberately positioned herself between him and the crippled console, unplugging, unbolting, replacing, reconnecting, and testing. She then stepped back. “Okay Sir, your computer’s fixed.”
He glared at her. “And what the hell am I supposed to do about my software?” he asked, motioning to the mangled discs in front of him. “That was expensive!”
She leveled her eyes at him. “Check your warranty, Sir. If not, those make great Frisbees.” As she picked up her toolcase, she sidled up to him, unable to resist the temptation. “Incidentally, Sir, if you’re looking for more terminology, I’d label this problem ‘PEBKC.’”
Rick looked at her dryly. “What’s that?”
“Problem Exists Between Keyboard and Chair. See you later.” ---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Jake Berkeley sat up as Emmie came in with his case folder. “Hey, Emmie. What took you so long with this?” he wanted to know.
She smirked. “Sorry, Jake, but Rick Stetler’s been trying to fix his own computer. And I kept having to go back and undo the damage. Sorry about that.”
The homicide detective chuckled. “Stetler’s fixing his own computer? Damn! I thought I had to deal with blood and guts!”
Emmie stopped at the doorway of the computer lab. Her plain red chair had been replaced with an oversize black one that she recognized as Rick’s chair. The keyboard also lay crookedly on her console. She raised her eyebrows.
“Hey, Tyler. Somebody been at my work station?”
Tyler looked up and shrugged. “Yeah. Stetler said you told him there was a problem between his keyboard and chair. So he came in here all ticked off and took yours. Said you could have the defective ones.”
She walked in and settled happily into her new black comfy chair as she hooked up her new keyboard. Rick had had a nice keyboard because he had repeatedly broken his old one.
“Actually, it’s a good thing I didn’t teach him the other term.”
“What’s that?” Tyler wanted to know.
“IAK. Stands for ‘Idiot At Keyboard.’”
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babs
Academy Graduate
Creator of the CSI: Miami Manwhores Club =)
Posts: 245
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Post by babs on Feb 22, 2009 17:36:41 GMT -5
*SNORTS*
NEVER, EVER, try to fix your own computer if you're not trained to do it!
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Post by jaglady on Feb 22, 2009 21:17:15 GMT -5
Sage advice, Babs. I know quite a few techs who wish more people would follow it!
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Post by jaglady on Feb 24, 2009 19:55:39 GMT -5
Life’s Little Storms
A lightning storm that takes out the computer system isn't the only thing that tries Rick Stetler's patience.
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Ryan Wolfe dodged into the Miami-Dade Crime Lab escaping from the latest summer storm to unleash its fury over South Florida. He now glanced behind him as he stepped into the computer lab carrying his latest case file. Shivering in the air conditioning, he shook his arms off and then smoothed out his wet hair with his fingers. His gray jacket was speckled by the fat rain drops.
“Hi Emmie. Wow! That rain’s really coming down out there.”
Senior computer tech Emmie Stockburne smiled and gave him a sideways glance.
“Hi Sweet Stuff” she whispered.
“Careful. Never know when you-know-who might come sniffing around.”
She backed her chair up from the main console and groaned as she stretched her arms and arched her neck. “Ouch. I really need to adjust this work station. It’s way too low, and my neck is killing me. Sounds like it’s getting bad out there.”
That area of the lab had no windows, but the thunder and rain seemed to grow louder by the minute. Ryan dipped his head to listen. “Yeah, in fact it sounds worse. And everybody else is out in the field right now. Even Horatio.”
Suddenly the lights flickered right before the thunder crashed. The building vibrated. Startled, Emmie stiffened up and looked at the ceiling.
“Wow! That one was too close! I think I’m gonna shut some of this stuff down, since nobody else is here. Rather not risk a surge.” She reached down and flipped switches behind the console. Monitors and AV equipment went dark one by one as the humming of computers ceased. “I’ll just turn it back on when this thing passes.”
Ryan sighed as he laid the brown case folder on the desk next to her. “Well, I guess this one is gonna have to wait until you turn everything back on again.” He then looked around. “Kind of slow in the lab right now with everybody gone.”
Emmie glanced at the lifeless computer equipment and then at Ryan. She leaned her chin on her hand and gave him a coy look. “Well, if you’re not busy, I could sure use a big, strong man to help me with something."
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IAB agent Rick Stetler furiously yanked up his phone and stabbed numbers while glaring at his dark, lifeless computer monitor. It had suddenly blinked off while he was reading emails for one of his most important investigations. The wet, roaring darkness outside of the Miami-Dade Police Headquarters meant nothing to him. Storm or no storm, he needed that computer back up and running. Immediately.
“Computer Lab, Emmie Stockburne” a strained, breathless voice said on the other end.
Rick huffed impatiently. “Miss Stockburne, my computer went dead. I’m in the middle of an important case, and I need you to fix it now, please.”
“Hey, Sir. The lightning probably took out your surge protector. Actually, can you hold on a minute? I'm kind of occupied. Just a second. Putting you on the speaker.” Rick heard several clicks and then background noise. “Okay, Sir. You say your computer went dead?”
Rick furrowed his eyebrows suspiciously. “Is there somebody else in there with you?”
Emmie grunted slightly. “Uh, just CSI Wolfe, Sir. Why?”
The IAB agent huffed. “As I was saying, my computer’s completely out! Mind taking care of the problem? Now, please?”
“Uh, actually, Sir, there’s not a lot I can do until this storm rolls through. Could you hold on for about thirty seconds? I think CSI Wolfe and I can finish this thing up pretty quickly. Be right with you.”
Rick felt his blood pressure rise as he gripped the handset more tightly. He had long suspected that snarky little patrol officer had been muscling in on Emmie and all those goodies of hers. His eyes blazed when he thought he heard heavy breathing and shuffling in the background.
“Damn, that guy’s impatient” he overheard Ryan whisper.
Emmie giggled between breaths. “Not as impatient as you, sometimes! Hang on. Let me just get these off.” Rick heard rustling and rattling in the background. “There.”
“I’m ready when you are.”
“I've been ready for a long time!”
Ryan drew a breath. “I can’t hold this forever, Emmie! Move your leg so I can get all the way in there.”
“Okay. How’s that? Damn, this thing’s gonna give me a hernia!”
Rick now gripped the edge of his desk hard enough to scratch it as he heard more heavy breathing, grunting, and scraping in the background.
“Hey, watch it! Don’t get that stuff on my dress! Makes a stain I can’t wash out!” Rick heard Emmie say, sounding like she was out of breath.
“Hey, sorry. Guess I’m just messy, okay?” Ryan retorted, sounding equally worn down.
Emmie’s voice sounded strained. “Here. Push a little harder. Put your hand right up there. Yeah, that ought to do it.”
Rick’s breathing quickened as he heard more shuffling in the background.
Emmie sighed with relief. She had a smile in her voice. “Oh, yeah. This is great. Now I could do this all day long!”
Ryan took a deep breath. “Damn, Emmie! This is killing me!”
The IAB agent had heard enough. That lifeless computer and the impossible deadline no longer mattered. He slammed the handset down almost hard enough to smash it. Tightening his lips, he bolted up out of his chair and stormed through the hallway toward the elevator, his gold paisley tie trailing behind him.
You’re dead meat this time, Wolfe!
Rick clenched his fists and continued to breathe deeply as he bolted off the elevator in the direction of the computer lab. He couldn’t see anyone through the windows, but then something else caught his attention. He craned his neck when he spotted Emmie’s left hand gripping the edge of the computer table and pushing upward. His eyes narrowed, and he tightened his lips as he stormed through the door.
“Wolfe! Miss Stockburne! What are you two doing?” he roared.
Both Ryan and Emmie whipped their heads up at him in surprise.
Ryan sighed as he took his hands off the computer table he had been positioning. He looked dryly at the fuming IAB agent as he stood up slowly and dusted himself off.
“Sergeant Stetler. Run out of things to investigate?”
Emmie quickly set down the coil of gray computer cables she had been holding and glanced behind her at the phone. “Oh, hey Sir. Sorry, this took a little longer than I expected. CSI Wolfe was helping me raise up my work station. I had to hold the cables while he pushed my desk against the wall. Sorry; I didn’t mean to forget about you.”
Rick locked eyes with the CSI. “Don’t you have somewhere else to be, Wolfe?”
Ryan glanced back at the computer tech. “Call me when you got that search done, Emmie” he said to her while he shot the angry IAB agent a glare.
“Sure. See you later, Ryan” she called after him, wiping dirt off her hands with a paper towel. She then turned her attention to Rick. “Didn’t mean to forget about you, Sir.”
A white plastic bottle lay on its side in a small puddle next to her monitor. She immediately picked it up with two fingers and wiped it dry. “Wolfe knocked over a bottle of Citrix when he was moving this thing. This is stuff you never want to get on your skirt. It makes a nasty bleach stain.”
“I wouldn’t know” he muttered.
Emmie tipped her head up to listen for the storm. “Well, sounds like it’s clearing up out there. How about we take a look at your problem?”
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Up in Rick’s office, the computer tech flipped switches, watching Rick’s computer come back to life. Satisfied that everything worked properly, she stood up.
“Okay, Sir. Looks like you’re back in business. The lightning just tripped your surge protector, and it shut everything down. One of my easier fixes.”
Unfazed, Rick Stetler folded his arms and glared at her. “Miss Stockburne, what was going on between you and CSI Wolfe in that computer lab?” he demanded.
Emmie snorted. She turned to him and pointed to her green eyes with two fingers. “Watch my eyes. I’m actually telling the truth. I had to shut down the system because of the lightning. Wolfe came in with another case that had to wait. My work station was too low, and it was killing my neck, so I asked him to help me raise it.” She turned to leave. “And now I’m gonna go turn everything back on so I can do that bank search he requested.”
He looked after her suspiciously. “Okay” he said deliberately.
Not able to resist the temptation, Emmie sidled up to him. “Uh, actually, Sir, I would rather have asked you, but I know how much you hate getting dirty” she whispered with a smile in her voice. “See you later.”
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ladytaz29
Rookie Officer
Caution..Must wear flame retardent materials..
Posts: 377
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Post by ladytaz29 on Feb 24, 2009 20:38:29 GMT -5
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babs
Academy Graduate
Creator of the CSI: Miami Manwhores Club =)
Posts: 245
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Post by babs on Feb 25, 2009 18:31:00 GMT -5
Oh god, that has to be one of my top faves of all of the chapters so far!
Yay for gutterminds!
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babs
Academy Graduate
Creator of the CSI: Miami Manwhores Club =)
Posts: 245
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Post by babs on Feb 25, 2009 18:32:58 GMT -5
OH! I JUST REMEMBERED THAT IDEA I HAD AWHILE BACK!
"Click to enlarge"
Have fun =)
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Post by jaglady on Feb 25, 2009 20:04:31 GMT -5
Speaking of gutterminds....
This one is for LADYTAZ, for sending me this idea! Many thanks for helping me break the dry spell, LadyTaz. And please keep 'em er, uh, forthwith. -----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Stuck in You
Senior Computer Tech Emmie Stockburne tapped away at her keyboard, quickly compiling her findings for Horatio’s latest case, when she was aware of IAB agent Rick Stetler standing over her, hands on hips, huffing impatiently. She stopped typing and turned in her chair, peering up at him matter-of-factly.
“Can I help you, Sir?”
“Miss Stockburne, where’d my printer go? I went to my office to print up some reports to take to the Mayor’s office, and my printer was gone.”
“I know, Sir. I took it out yesterday.”
“Where’d it go?” he demanded.
“Same place half my budget went.”
He raised his eyebrows at her defiantly. “Meaning?”
“Gone! The County cut my budget clean in half! So since you’re not a regular here, you get to share that one in the hallway with Frank Tripp and Jake Berkeley. I no longer have the money to maintain your printer.”
Rick glared at her. “You’re kidding me! I print a lot of confidential stuff off my computer!” he argued, pointing at the door.
Emmie stood up. “I’m aware of that, Sir. I also know that you have a printer at your other office, so you might want to print stuff there!”
“And what if I forget something?”
“One of us can print it for you! Now if there’s nothing else, Lieutenant Caine has me on a bank fraud case.” With that she sat down and continued to click the keyboard as Rick stormed out.
Several minutes passed. Emmie glanced between the monitor and the case file in front of her.
“Hey, uh, Emmie?” a voice asked hesitantly from the door.
Emmie turned to see Jake Berkeley and Natalia watching her.
“Hey, Jake. Natalia.” She raised her eyebrows, sensing the tension. “Something wrong?”
Jake glanced at Natalia. “You’re gonna want to take a look at something. Know that printer you put in down the hall this morning?”
The cybertech raised her eyebrows. “Yeah. What about it?”
Natalia glanced at Jake. “You want to tell her?”
Jake smiled now. “Looks like Stetler was trying to clear something out of the printer. Or maybe he was trying to put something in there. Not sure.”
“Jake called me to make sure it wasn’t blood spatter” Natalia said. "I know it's not blood, either."
Emmie wrinkled her face as she stood up. “Oh, God. What did he jam in there? And what spatter? What are you talking about?” Reflexively she yanked up her toolcase. “Don’t tell me he got his tie caught in there again! I told him to quit leaning over that thing! He’s gonna strangle himself one day!”
Jake snorted with laughter now. “I don’t think it was his tie this time.”
She watched them cautiously. “Uh, okay. What did he jam in there this time?”
“Let’s just say we always wondered if he had one.”
Natalia glared at him. “Jake!”
He put his hands up. “Hey! Sorry!”
Emmie’s green eyes darted between them. “You guys are scaring me. Show me what’s going on.”
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When she got to the printer area in the blue hallway, she just stopped and stared.
The printer looked like a murder scene in itself. The top looked like somebody had yanked on it and then poured blood on it. Some now leaked out of the bottom and had run onto the floor. A small crowd had gathered around and looked on. Not quite sure what to do, Emmie crept up.
“Stetler left a note” Natalia said, pointing to the mess. Sure enough, somebody had taped a note to the front. It too had red spattering on it.
Emmie. My penis jammed in the printer. Please get it out. I want it back. R Stetler.
This couldn’t possibly have been one of Delko’s newbie pranks, she thought, as she stared silently at the red, mangled printer. Some labcoat-clad techs were snickering now.
Jake could barely contain his laughter. "Need to borrow some of my yellow tape?"
Tyler had stepped out to see what was going on. “What happened?” he wanted to know, staring at the mess with the same amazement.
Regaining her sense of reality, she motioned to him. “Hey Tyler? Remember how you wanted some tech support experience?” She pointed to the carnage in front of her. “Well, here’s your chance!” With a tight smile she patted the shocked AV tech’s shoulder. “You know where I’ll be.”
“Thanks a lot!” he retorted, shaking his head in amazement.
“Rank has its privileges” she said with a smile, leaving him with the bloodied mess and the amused crowd of officers and lab techs.
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Half an hour later, Tyler stepped into the lab where Emmie was still clicking keys. He sighed and tiredly wiped his hands. She turned to him. “Thanks for handling that, Tyler. What happened?”
“I had to put in another printer. Old one’s shot. Facilities cleaned the table and the floor.” He smirked now. “Do me a favor and tell Stetler that if he wants his thing back, I stuck it in a jar of Citrix. I’ll be at lunch.” With that he quickly disappeared out the door.
She wrinkled her eyebrows and put up a hand after him, but he was already gone. But then she thought about it. “No way. It couldn’t be.”
The scrawled note. That red-splattered printer. Emmie shook her head.
Rick Stetler stuck his head in the lab. “Miss Stockburne! Where is it?”
Her eyes wide, Emmie turned around. “Sir?”
The IAB agent looked at her with his usual impatient scowl. “Did you save my pen, like I asked you to?”
It all flew together in her head now. “Your pen?”
He never changed his expression. “Yeah. That was my favorite pen. Some papers got jammed in there, so I used my pen to dig them out, and then my pen got jammed in there too. I didn’t have time to tell you, so I stuck that note on the printer.”
The computer tech put her finger up. “Hold on, Sir.”
Emmie stepped into the back room. Sure enough, a silver pen lay sideways in a jar of Citrix. The red, damaged printer lay in pieces on the shelf. A closer look revealed that the jammed pen had caused the red toner cartridge to explode. Tyler had thrown the crumpled-up note in the trash.
Rick stood behind her impatiently. “What’s my favorite pen doing in that jar?” He held his hand out now. “Can I have it back, please?”
With two fingers, she fished the silver pen out of the jar, rinsed it out under the faucet, and handed it to its rightful owner. He glared at her.
“You could at least dry it off, couldn’t you?” he protested.
She resisted the urge to grab his pink checkered tie and use it as a towel. Instead she blotted the prized pen with some paper towels and handed it to him.
He snatched it from her and looked it over. “It’s all scratched!” he protested.
Emmie leveled her eyes at him. “Could’ve been a lot worse! Next time, call me or Tyler if you have a paper jam, please? That would save me a lot of headaches!”
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Tyler was watching the soundboard when Emmie stepped into the computer lab. She sighed and plopped herself into her chair.
“Hey! Stetler get his thing back?”
She smirked at the AV tech. “You mean his pen? Yeah. Hey Tyler, next time, tell me it was a pen he jammed in there, okay? You had me scared.”
Tyler grinned at her. “Why, what did you think he got stuck in there?”
“Let’s just say I resisted the urge to shove it up his nose.”
He laughed. “Hey, Horatio was looking for you about that bank fraud case. Where’ve you been?”
“I went ahead and put the IAB printer back in Rick’s office.”
He looked at her with surprise. “Why? I thought you were trying to save money.”
Emmie looked toward the fresh new hallway printer. “Trust me, Tyler. My sanity is worth the money.”
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