Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

A/N: I would like to thank everyone for their kind reviews. I'm humbled that these stories are timeless. Thanks again, and enjoy!


Improper Ventilation

Horatio was engrossed in another case file when he heard a tap on the door. He looked up, startled slightly. Senior computer tech Emmie Stockburne stood in the doorway, an annoyed look on her face.

"Miss Stockburne? Come on in. Is there a problem?" Horatio said, laying the file down and giving her full attention.

Emmie stepped in, black laptop bag slung over her shoulder. "Sir, I'm not trying to cause trouble, and you know I don't usually like to bother you with stuff like this, but—"

"What did he wreck this time?"

"This has gotten too predictable for you, hasn't it? Actually, at this rate, Internal Affairs is gonna wreck my department's budget!"

Horatio smiled at her knowingly. "It's like you always say about Sergeant Stetler. You can't believe they let him handle firearms."

Emmie laid the laptop, bag and all, on Horatio's desk. "Sir, maybe you should tag this one as evidence. Criminal stupidity." He looked at it, not sure what to say.

She unzipped the bag and handed Rick's latest improvement to Horatio.

A new silver laptop had four holes drilled from the keyboard clean through the bottom. The Lieutenant looked at it nonplussed. "Okay, Miss Stockburne. What happened to this?"

"Tyler got the call from Rick this morning. He complained that he had made a few, uh, adjustments to this new laptop that we issued him just a few days ago."

Horatio leaned forward and looked into her eyes. "I'm listening."

"It gets better, Sir. When Tyler asked about the holes drilled in the bottom, Rick said when he put the, uh, laptop on his lap for long periods of time it made his legs sweat, so he apparently drilled those holes for ventilation. Now he's all bent out of shape because it won't work, and he can't get the info off the hard drive. Looking at where he drilled the holes, I'm not sure I'll be able to either. I might be able to rebuild this thing. Otherwise you're staring at a two-thousand-dollar paperweight."

Horatio nodded. "Leave this on my desk, Emmie. I'll take care of it."

"Thanks, Sir. I'm just trying to save us money for important stuff. You know, like solving cases and things?"

"I understand."


The next morning Emmie and Tyler were looking over case files that Trace had sent over when the phone chirped. Tyler swung around and answered it. Emmie watched him.

Tyler looked at Emmie, not sure what to say or do. After more than a year in the Miami-Dade computer lab, she could read him like a book. "What's going on, Tyler?"

He handed the phone to her. "See if you can handle this one."

With wary eyes she accepted the phone from him. "Emmie Stockburne." She listened for a minute. "Okay Sir, calm down. I can barely understand you. You don't have to scream at me!" Emmie rolled her eyes and held the handset well away from her ear. "Let me get up there, Sir. It'll be a minute or two." She handed the phone back to Tyler, who turned around and hung it up.

She made her way to the elevator and up to Rick's office. "Sir, what's going on?"

Rick Stetler sat in the extra chair in his office, obviously still fuming from his discovery. His desk chair lay on its side as thought it had been thrown in a fit of anger. He pointed at it. "Any idea who did this?"

"I know I'm gonna regret this, Sir, but what happened?" she asked warily.

Rick stomped over and flipped the desk chair onto its back. "That's what happened!"

The silver laptop she'd handed to Horatio yesterday had been drilled to the seat of his office chair through the four holes he had made. After two seconds, Emmie couldn't help it. She tried not to laugh.

Rick was getting angrier by the minute. "And when you're done yucking it up, kindly fix my chair!"

"With all due respect Sir, I can't fix this. Your chair is a facilities call. Which means you get to pick up the phone again and call somebody to come up and fix your chair. Oh, and please make sure they save that laptop, because I'm gonna have to rebuild it. That's if your 'ventilation' system' didn't do much damage."

"This is not funny" Rick growled after her.

"Actually, Sir, it is. Let me know when Facilities pries that thing loose, okay?"

As Emmie made her way back to the elevator doors, Horatio walked behind her. Both waited until the doors were safely closed.

"Sir? Rick Stetler's chair. You?" she wanted to know.

Horatio leaned toward her. "You're not the only one who's handy with electronics, Miss Stockburne" he said quietly.

A fresh wave of laughter came over her as the elevator doors parted and Horatio held his arm out for her to walk in.

"Thanks for the laugh, Sir."

As he stepped out, Horatio donned his sunglasses. "Just dispensing a little justice."