*Summary: Frank replies to a message from Rachel. Then he does it again... then all hell breaks loose. He really should take computing lessons.
Author's Notes: Well, thank you so much to Deb who gave me the idea for this. And this story has similarities to one of my own (as most of you found out with 91 of the same message I accidentally sent!). Sorry again guys!
Disclaimer: You can't sue me, so there. I'm not affiliated with anyone or anything in here, I don't know anything, I didn't do anything. And I'm off on holiday anyway, so you can't catch me. Hah!
*****
In Bed With The Prime Minister
Nikki Kirk
*****
Frank Holloway sat at his desk wondering how the hell to reply to the message sitting on his screen:
Hey Frankfurter,
You're place or mine?
Rachel.
So, since there were no instruction booklets on this program (and besides, he was a man, and men don't read instruction booklets) he decided to click on a paper icon on the top of the COPS program messaging service. Click! A message sheet popped up on the screen. Frank hated computers, but this was good for his confidence. He looked up to find Goldie staring at him, wondering what the hell was taking him so long. "What? It's hard to figure out, alright?" Frank snapped sulkily.
Rachel put her hands up and looked back at her work with a smirk on her face. Men. They never ask for help when they need it. Frank looked at his screen, then typed in his message:
Subject: (Hmm, what do I put for this?) What're you lookin at?
Message: (Oh, jeez! What do I write?) Hey you sexy thang...
My place, I've got champayne (the stuff from Marlborough, NZ) and I haven't got any sheilas over tonight either...
Frank fidgeted for a second, then saw a little letter icon, so he pressed it. DING!!! A message flashed up on the screen saying "select receivers". So he clicked on the address book icon and looked at the command on screen "find receiver" and the alphabetical list of everyone in the police force down below it. He typed in "Rachel Goldstein" then clicked go. In less than a second her name and address flashed up on screen. He clicked it, then watched it flash up in the address section of his message. He looked at her code:
SDC291066
SDC obviously stood for Senior Detective Constable, but what did 291066 stand for? Well, Frank's numbers were his birthday, so they must be hers... she was 34?! Frank shook his head and looked up to find Rachel staring at him. She smiled quickly and went back to work, satisfied that he hadn't the foggiest on how to work the program. Frank grunted, then pressed the little letter icon again. This time it worked. He heard Rachel's computer pipe up, "Woohoo!" in the usual Homer Simpson impression.
Frank watched Rachel read it, then waited as he heard her typing something in her usual rapid pace. "You talkin' to me? Are *you* talkin' to *me*?" The godfather told Frank he had a new message, and it popped up on the screen.
What, so I'm not a sheila? That's it, you're gonna get it later on, Holloway. Your place it is, I can't be bothered cleaning up the blood.
Frank grinned, then confidently set up a new message again.
Kinky... So, be at my place around 6? Get drunk, fall asleep... You sharing the bed ;)?
Frank clicked Rachel's name in the address book and sent the message. "Woohoo!" Rachel snorted, then smirked at Frank. Frank grinned back, thinking that he was very funny indeed.
*****
Frank heard the doorbell ring and grabbed the money for the pizza boy. "Frank, heard you were having a party. Thought we might come and supervise..." Tommy and Gavin stood in the doorway clutching pizza and beer.
"Eh? What?" Frank looked at them.
"The party... The message?" Tommy wondered how many times Rachel had hit Frank over the head to make him lose his short-term memory.
"Uh... oh, yeah, come on in..." Frank was totally confused, but the more beer the merrier, so the pair wandered in. Just as he was about to shut the door a police car drove up and five officers still in uniform got out and wandered up the steps clutching six packs of beer and boxes of pizza. "Hey Frank, come to join the party!" They were boys from the station, he recognised them.
"Yeah, yeah, come in..." Frank began as another squad car full of officers from Manly pulled up, then another, then Helen, Tayler and Woodsie, then Dave, then more officers from Balmain, then central, then Kings Cross, then Rachel pulled up and parked in the driveway.
"Rach, do you know what the hell's going on?" Frank asked as he saw Rachel trying not to crack up at the sight of his face.
"Uh... well... you kind of sent the whole of the Australian Police Force and those closely involved in it your message with your name on it... they found your address. The Prime Minister should be arriving about... now." Rachel turned to see the white crown car drive up and park beside her car.
Frank stared at her, then at the Prime Minister who climbed out of the car and went inside with his four bodyguards. "BUT MY BED'S NOT *THAT* BIG!!!" Frank howled...
*****
Wasn't that lovely? Feedback pretty please! Send it to me at sydneygirl2b@hotmail.com okay? Thanks!
Author's Notes: Well, thank you so much to Deb who gave me the idea for this. And this story has similarities to one of my own (as most of you found out with 91 of the same message I accidentally sent!). Sorry again guys!
Disclaimer: You can't sue me, so there. I'm not affiliated with anyone or anything in here, I don't know anything, I didn't do anything. And I'm off on holiday anyway, so you can't catch me. Hah!
*****
In Bed With The Prime Minister
Nikki Kirk
*****
Frank Holloway sat at his desk wondering how the hell to reply to the message sitting on his screen:
Hey Frankfurter,
You're place or mine?
Rachel.
So, since there were no instruction booklets on this program (and besides, he was a man, and men don't read instruction booklets) he decided to click on a paper icon on the top of the COPS program messaging service. Click! A message sheet popped up on the screen. Frank hated computers, but this was good for his confidence. He looked up to find Goldie staring at him, wondering what the hell was taking him so long. "What? It's hard to figure out, alright?" Frank snapped sulkily.
Rachel put her hands up and looked back at her work with a smirk on her face. Men. They never ask for help when they need it. Frank looked at his screen, then typed in his message:
Subject: (Hmm, what do I put for this?) What're you lookin at?
Message: (Oh, jeez! What do I write?) Hey you sexy thang...
My place, I've got champayne (the stuff from Marlborough, NZ) and I haven't got any sheilas over tonight either...
Frank fidgeted for a second, then saw a little letter icon, so he pressed it. DING!!! A message flashed up on the screen saying "select receivers". So he clicked on the address book icon and looked at the command on screen "find receiver" and the alphabetical list of everyone in the police force down below it. He typed in "Rachel Goldstein" then clicked go. In less than a second her name and address flashed up on screen. He clicked it, then watched it flash up in the address section of his message. He looked at her code:
SDC291066
SDC obviously stood for Senior Detective Constable, but what did 291066 stand for? Well, Frank's numbers were his birthday, so they must be hers... she was 34?! Frank shook his head and looked up to find Rachel staring at him. She smiled quickly and went back to work, satisfied that he hadn't the foggiest on how to work the program. Frank grunted, then pressed the little letter icon again. This time it worked. He heard Rachel's computer pipe up, "Woohoo!" in the usual Homer Simpson impression.
Frank watched Rachel read it, then waited as he heard her typing something in her usual rapid pace. "You talkin' to me? Are *you* talkin' to *me*?" The godfather told Frank he had a new message, and it popped up on the screen.
What, so I'm not a sheila? That's it, you're gonna get it later on, Holloway. Your place it is, I can't be bothered cleaning up the blood.
Frank grinned, then confidently set up a new message again.
Kinky... So, be at my place around 6? Get drunk, fall asleep... You sharing the bed ;)?
Frank clicked Rachel's name in the address book and sent the message. "Woohoo!" Rachel snorted, then smirked at Frank. Frank grinned back, thinking that he was very funny indeed.
*****
Frank heard the doorbell ring and grabbed the money for the pizza boy. "Frank, heard you were having a party. Thought we might come and supervise..." Tommy and Gavin stood in the doorway clutching pizza and beer.
"Eh? What?" Frank looked at them.
"The party... The message?" Tommy wondered how many times Rachel had hit Frank over the head to make him lose his short-term memory.
"Uh... oh, yeah, come on in..." Frank was totally confused, but the more beer the merrier, so the pair wandered in. Just as he was about to shut the door a police car drove up and five officers still in uniform got out and wandered up the steps clutching six packs of beer and boxes of pizza. "Hey Frank, come to join the party!" They were boys from the station, he recognised them.
"Yeah, yeah, come in..." Frank began as another squad car full of officers from Manly pulled up, then another, then Helen, Tayler and Woodsie, then Dave, then more officers from Balmain, then central, then Kings Cross, then Rachel pulled up and parked in the driveway.
"Rach, do you know what the hell's going on?" Frank asked as he saw Rachel trying not to crack up at the sight of his face.
"Uh... well... you kind of sent the whole of the Australian Police Force and those closely involved in it your message with your name on it... they found your address. The Prime Minister should be arriving about... now." Rachel turned to see the white crown car drive up and park beside her car.
Frank stared at her, then at the Prime Minister who climbed out of the car and went inside with his four bodyguards. "BUT MY BED'S NOT *THAT* BIG!!!" Frank howled...
*****
Wasn't that lovely? Feedback pretty please! Send it to me at sydneygirl2b@hotmail.com okay? Thanks!