NOTICE: I own nothing here. Please don't sue me.
CH.4-
Nick led Theresa into the grocery store. A police cruiser sat out front, and a young, green-looking cop was busying himself taping off the area. Theresa pulled something out of her jacket pocket, and before Nick could react, a flash went off in his face.
"What the. . ." Nick staggered back a few paces.
"Sorry!" She smiled sweetly at him as he stood rubbing his eyes.
"What'd ya do that for?"
"Just wanted a candid to send to Mom. She's going to love this." Theresa examined the store curiously. "So what do you do now?"
"Look, this is serious. Please, just don't touch anything. And no more pictures. Gimme that." Nick swiped the disposable camera, and stuffed it in his pocket. "You can have it back later."
"Sorry. I like to have pictures of everything. Is that a crime officer?" She batted her eyes at him innocently, and grinned.
"You really ARE a Stokes female. I'm a forensic investigator, not a cop. And quit flirtin' with me. . .it's creepy." Nick faked a disgusted shudder, and went to work dusting the counter for prints.
"Oh, don't flatter yourself. So! What are you doing, and why?"
"I'm dusting for prints. If the guy hasn't kept his nose clean, he'll be in the system."
"That sounds easy enough. What if he's not in the system?"
"The cops question the workers here, and we look for clues. Tire treads, foot prints, hair, blood. Pretty much anything that can lead us to our guy."
"Or girl." Theresa corrected him, watching the officer finish taping up the door.
"Yeah, but usually B&E's are male, and the girl at the counter said it was a guy in a ski mask." He carefully lifted a print from the counter, marked it and stuck it in a small bindle. After what Theresa felt was ages, Nick stood up, and closed his kit.
"Let's check out the store front." Nick walked out front, and Theresa followed. She couldn't shake the image of Nick in Nancy's gown, looking like a lost puppy surrounded by angry cats. She smiled to herself, and jotted down some notes in her pocket PC.
Nick was crouched down over a set of dark tire treads on the pavement.
"See these? Probably from our guy's car."
"You can get stuff from tire tracks?" She was impressed.
"Oh, yeah! Definitely."
"Ok. What do we do after we collect everything?" She secretly hit the 'record' button on the side of her pocket PC.
"We take it back to Greg Sanders at the lab. He and his other techies'll run the prints, check the DNA, and sometimes break the case for us."
"Sounds like Greg's a big help to the labs."
"Yeah. He's our Mr.Wizard. He lets you know it too." Nick shook his head and laughed. "Let's get this stuff back to the labs. You hungry?"
Theresa paused the recorder, and nodded her affirmation.
~-~--~-~
Greg hovered over his telescope, doing a little dance as he cranked up his death metal of choice for the day.
"Looks like you're having fun!" Michael, the special affects coordinator shouted over the music. Greg turned around, smiled widely, and motioned for him to come in. He hit 'stop' on his CD player, and sat down on a stool.
"Hey! You with the film crew?" Greg could hardly hide his enthusiasm.
"Yeah. Name's Mike. I make all the guts an' stuff look real."
"Cool!"
"What are you doin'?" Mike pointed to the scope.
"Checking out a few strands of hair for skin tags. Trying to nail a rapist. I think I got him. If the DNA from the hair they found on the victim matches the DNA from the suspect We got him!" Greg sat up straight and proud. Not bothering to bore Mike with the fact that is had been Sara's diligence, and hours of overtime spent scouring an empty warehouse that had brought these pieces of DNA to Greg's table.
"Whoa! That's wild! Can I take a look?"
"Sure! Here." Greg scooted away from the desk, and showed Mike how to adjust the microscope. "See that glob on the end of the hair?"
"Oh, man! That's amazing! We gotta show something like this in the film." Mike pulled a sketch pad out of the satchel that was slung over his shoulder.
"What? Really?" Greg tried to keep his voice in an octave that didn't sound like that of a happy schoolgirl.
"Yeah! This is where the action is. Next thing I'm checking out after here is the morgue." Mike's eyes gleamed as he quickly jotted down an image or two. Greg strained his neck to get a better look. It looked like a guy in a lab coat packing heat. Greg's eyebrows shot up.
"So. . .what's the film gonna be called?"
"Not sure yet. That's up to Al and Theresa." Mike clamped his pad shut, and looked up at Greg. "Could you show me to the morgue? I'm supposed to meet a Dr. Robbins?"
Greg's face fell at the notion of losing contact with the crew, but he was happy to be of help.
~-~-~-~
Bob was humming something to himself from the back of the SUV. Grissom looked over at Sara who had her jaw clinched, and guessed she was probably thinking very bad things about their new friend. Grissom smiled to himself.
"Bob?" Grissom suddenly spoke up, bringing Sara back from her thoughts.
"Yeah, Dude?" Bob looked intently towards Grissom.
"What exactly do you do? For the production, I mean."
"Ahhhh! Yeah, Man. I'm the fact checker." Bob nodded his head vigorously as if he were a possessed Bobble head.
Grissom's eyes went wide, and Sara's tense jaw seemed to almost crack as it fell open. That was enough to silence the SUV all the way back to the labs. Sara got out, shook her head as if trying desperately to empty it of the nonsense that had been thrown into it during this night. Grissom had a somewhat defeated and amused expression on his face as he watched Bob swagger back towards the building.
~-~-~-~-~
"Ohhhh." Al came out of the men's restroom looking a very unflattering shade of green.
"You ok, Man?" Warrick patted him on the back.
"Uh. . .how do you guys stand that? How does she stand that?" Al shook his head amazed at Catherine's stainless steel stomach.
"You get kinda used to it." Warrick smirked. He almost felt bad for the guy. At least shift was going to be over soon. "Don't worry. I'll show you how we collect evidence around the scene." He grinned at the relieved look on Al's face.
TBC
CH.4-
Nick led Theresa into the grocery store. A police cruiser sat out front, and a young, green-looking cop was busying himself taping off the area. Theresa pulled something out of her jacket pocket, and before Nick could react, a flash went off in his face.
"What the. . ." Nick staggered back a few paces.
"Sorry!" She smiled sweetly at him as he stood rubbing his eyes.
"What'd ya do that for?"
"Just wanted a candid to send to Mom. She's going to love this." Theresa examined the store curiously. "So what do you do now?"
"Look, this is serious. Please, just don't touch anything. And no more pictures. Gimme that." Nick swiped the disposable camera, and stuffed it in his pocket. "You can have it back later."
"Sorry. I like to have pictures of everything. Is that a crime officer?" She batted her eyes at him innocently, and grinned.
"You really ARE a Stokes female. I'm a forensic investigator, not a cop. And quit flirtin' with me. . .it's creepy." Nick faked a disgusted shudder, and went to work dusting the counter for prints.
"Oh, don't flatter yourself. So! What are you doing, and why?"
"I'm dusting for prints. If the guy hasn't kept his nose clean, he'll be in the system."
"That sounds easy enough. What if he's not in the system?"
"The cops question the workers here, and we look for clues. Tire treads, foot prints, hair, blood. Pretty much anything that can lead us to our guy."
"Or girl." Theresa corrected him, watching the officer finish taping up the door.
"Yeah, but usually B&E's are male, and the girl at the counter said it was a guy in a ski mask." He carefully lifted a print from the counter, marked it and stuck it in a small bindle. After what Theresa felt was ages, Nick stood up, and closed his kit.
"Let's check out the store front." Nick walked out front, and Theresa followed. She couldn't shake the image of Nick in Nancy's gown, looking like a lost puppy surrounded by angry cats. She smiled to herself, and jotted down some notes in her pocket PC.
Nick was crouched down over a set of dark tire treads on the pavement.
"See these? Probably from our guy's car."
"You can get stuff from tire tracks?" She was impressed.
"Oh, yeah! Definitely."
"Ok. What do we do after we collect everything?" She secretly hit the 'record' button on the side of her pocket PC.
"We take it back to Greg Sanders at the lab. He and his other techies'll run the prints, check the DNA, and sometimes break the case for us."
"Sounds like Greg's a big help to the labs."
"Yeah. He's our Mr.Wizard. He lets you know it too." Nick shook his head and laughed. "Let's get this stuff back to the labs. You hungry?"
Theresa paused the recorder, and nodded her affirmation.
~-~--~-~
Greg hovered over his telescope, doing a little dance as he cranked up his death metal of choice for the day.
"Looks like you're having fun!" Michael, the special affects coordinator shouted over the music. Greg turned around, smiled widely, and motioned for him to come in. He hit 'stop' on his CD player, and sat down on a stool.
"Hey! You with the film crew?" Greg could hardly hide his enthusiasm.
"Yeah. Name's Mike. I make all the guts an' stuff look real."
"Cool!"
"What are you doin'?" Mike pointed to the scope.
"Checking out a few strands of hair for skin tags. Trying to nail a rapist. I think I got him. If the DNA from the hair they found on the victim matches the DNA from the suspect We got him!" Greg sat up straight and proud. Not bothering to bore Mike with the fact that is had been Sara's diligence, and hours of overtime spent scouring an empty warehouse that had brought these pieces of DNA to Greg's table.
"Whoa! That's wild! Can I take a look?"
"Sure! Here." Greg scooted away from the desk, and showed Mike how to adjust the microscope. "See that glob on the end of the hair?"
"Oh, man! That's amazing! We gotta show something like this in the film." Mike pulled a sketch pad out of the satchel that was slung over his shoulder.
"What? Really?" Greg tried to keep his voice in an octave that didn't sound like that of a happy schoolgirl.
"Yeah! This is where the action is. Next thing I'm checking out after here is the morgue." Mike's eyes gleamed as he quickly jotted down an image or two. Greg strained his neck to get a better look. It looked like a guy in a lab coat packing heat. Greg's eyebrows shot up.
"So. . .what's the film gonna be called?"
"Not sure yet. That's up to Al and Theresa." Mike clamped his pad shut, and looked up at Greg. "Could you show me to the morgue? I'm supposed to meet a Dr. Robbins?"
Greg's face fell at the notion of losing contact with the crew, but he was happy to be of help.
~-~-~-~
Bob was humming something to himself from the back of the SUV. Grissom looked over at Sara who had her jaw clinched, and guessed she was probably thinking very bad things about their new friend. Grissom smiled to himself.
"Bob?" Grissom suddenly spoke up, bringing Sara back from her thoughts.
"Yeah, Dude?" Bob looked intently towards Grissom.
"What exactly do you do? For the production, I mean."
"Ahhhh! Yeah, Man. I'm the fact checker." Bob nodded his head vigorously as if he were a possessed Bobble head.
Grissom's eyes went wide, and Sara's tense jaw seemed to almost crack as it fell open. That was enough to silence the SUV all the way back to the labs. Sara got out, shook her head as if trying desperately to empty it of the nonsense that had been thrown into it during this night. Grissom had a somewhat defeated and amused expression on his face as he watched Bob swagger back towards the building.
~-~-~-~-~
"Ohhhh." Al came out of the men's restroom looking a very unflattering shade of green.
"You ok, Man?" Warrick patted him on the back.
"Uh. . .how do you guys stand that? How does she stand that?" Al shook his head amazed at Catherine's stainless steel stomach.
"You get kinda used to it." Warrick smirked. He almost felt bad for the guy. At least shift was going to be over soon. "Don't worry. I'll show you how we collect evidence around the scene." He grinned at the relieved look on Al's face.
TBC