Jag Lady
Lab Technician
Rick Stetler likes to help himself to other people's lunches. Today he's hungry, tired, grouchy, and the break room refrigerator is empty. But that candy bar on Horatio's desk looks oh so tempting.
This is based on a practical joke that the San Francisco U.S. Forensics office used to pull on newbies and food-stealing D.C. bureaucrats.
I don't own anything of CSI Miami. If I did, Rick Stetler would be on a lot more often!
-------------------------------------------------------------------
But Was It A Candy Bar?
IAB Agent Rick Stetler ambled into the lab, tired, stressed, hungry and just in a foul mood. He hadn’t eaten anything all day. To make matters worse, that morning meeting with City Hall had run way over schedule.
Rick now walked angrily through the blue hallway, glaring suspiciously at everyone in his path. It didn’t go unnoticed that people walked on the other side from him, sensing that he was giving off the kind of grouchiness that could be felt. To mess with a hungry, grumpy Rick Stetler was to open oneself up for an investigation.
He reached the lab’s break room. Digging tiredly in his waist pocket for some change, he gazed into the vending machine. The Baby Ruth bar looked good he thought, sliding his wrinkled dollar bill into the slot.
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
Rick’s brown eyes blazed and he tensed up. This wasn’t what he needed right now.
“What do you mean ‘Out of Service’? You’re kidding me!” he snarled, slapping the machine furiously. He then stabbed the change return button. Nothing happened. The big box just sat there, silently taunting him with all those goodies on the other side of the glass, not even giving him back his dollar.
He now furiously scanned the break room. No bags of chips. No loaves of bread left out on the counter. Not even Tyler’s Cheetos.
The refrigerator. Maybe somebody left their lunch unmarked. If no name, it was fair game, was the general rule. His eyes darted about as he opened the refrigerator door and looked inside.
In an instant Rick shut his eyes and staggered backward when the aroma hit him like a freight train. Something in there smelled worse than the suicide on Alexx’s table two days ago. He gathered himself and looked again.
Nothing in there but Frank Tripp’s liver and onion sandwich and Maxine Valera’s diet drink. No leftover bagels or birthday cake. No Chinese food from the night shift. Of course, earlier that week he did lecture Horatio that the break room refrigerator was quickly turning into a science lab itself and ordered that it be cleaned out more regularly. For once somebody actually listened to him. He wrinkled his nose and slammed the door shut in disgust and frustration.
The hunger had now given him a throbbing headache. And getting a whiff of that liver and onion sandwich didn’t help matters any. With no hope of grabbing a quick lunch before his next meeting, he ambled suspiciously through the lab. He was sure he could feel an investigation coming on. Rick peered into the Trace Lab. Through the glass he spotted CSI Delko hunched over a microscope.
Was that a Baby Ruth wrapper on the counter next to him? Unmarked? Untagged? Worse yet, the very thing that vending machine had just taunted him with while taking his hard-earned dollar? He changed course and stepped in.
“Delko.”
Eric Delko sniffed contemptuously at the suspicious IAB agent. “Stetler. What are you sniffing around for?”
Rick raised his eyebrows at the crumpled-up Baby Ruth wrapper on the table next to the CSI. “You know there’s no eating allowed in this lab, Delko.”
Delko shrugged with a fake smile. “Who said I was eating in here?”
His eyes motioned down at the red and white wrapper. “What about that Baby Ruth wrapper on the table next to you?”
“Sergeant Stetler, that’s just a wrapper. How do you know I ate a candy bar just from a wrapper sitting on the table? For all you know, Berkeley or Calleigh, or even Lieutenant Caine could’ve left it there.”
Rick now leveled his eyes at him. “And you couldn’t be bothered to throw it in the trash? So on top of your usual lack of respect, you’re not keeping the lab up to cleanliness standards!”
With two fingers, Delko kept his eyes on Rick and picked up the offending wrapper, dropping it into the wastebasket. “Better? Sergeant Stetler?”
“I think I’ll just have a chat with your boss about your little attitude problem. Don’t go anywhere.” With that he left.
Rick now stood at the door of Horatio’s office. He waited impatiently for the Lieutenant to at least acknowledge his presence. But then he spotted something on the desk.
Was that the Baby Ruth bar?
Rick craned his neck and breathed deeply. Maybe he’d been a little too hard on Delko. Maybe it wouldn’t be a good idea to ream the Lieutenant about that sloppy lab right now. That Baby Ruth bar just looked so good, so delectable, and he was really hungry right now.
Horatio snapped his cell phone shut. “Looking for things to investigate, Rick?” he said dryly.
The IAB agent immediately softened his look and walked in, his eyes and stomach fixated on that little chocolaty piece of heaven that sat on the napkin on Horatio’s desk. A closer look revealed that only one bite had been taken from it. His heart welled up as he looked hopefully at Horatio.
“Horatio. You gonna eat that?” he asked, his eyes and stomach fixated on the desk.
Horatio motioned matter of factly. “Have at it, Rick. I just finished my lunch.”
Without another word, Rick snatched up the little slice of heaven and bit off a huge chunk. Immediately his brown eyes widened.
Instead of a firm, chocolaty piece of heaven, he was holding a damp, squishy brown lump in his hand. Instead of the sweet, crunchy nougat and peanuts he had fantasized about, he now tasted, well, he wasn’t quite sure.
Rick quickly swallowed it.
“This candy bar tastes funny” he said, wrinkling his face.
The redheaded Lieutenant now raised his eyebrows at him. “Whoever said that was a candy bar, Rick?”
Just then Rick’s eyes widened as he looked first at his nemesis and then at the funny-tasting, squishy brown mess in his hand. Come to think of it, the thing did smell kind of funny.
A million scenarios raced through his mind in a split second. Terror set in as he dropped the mess and sprinted out of Horatio’s office, his other hand over his mouth, his candy-striped tie trailing behind him.
Horatio sighed as he picked up a clean napkin, scooped up the mess, and dropped it into his trash can while listening to the blissful silence.
Delko tapped on his door. “H?”
“Eric.”
An amused smile crossed the CSI’s face as he glanced down the hallway. “Stetler sure left your office in a hurry. Everything okay?”
His boss smiled back. “It would seem he did. Why don’t you come in, Eric?”
Delko wandered in. “So what happened?”
“Hopefully we cured Sergeant Stetler of his little food-stealing habit. Maybe from now on he’ll ask before he just goes digging around in somebody’s lunch.”
Delko gave off that boyish grin. “Yep. Just take one Baby Ruth bar with some red and green food coloring. Soak in a little lime juice, and hey. Can’t tell the difference.”
“Thank you for showing me that one, Eric” Horatio said approvingly. “It really did taste awful.”
“You’re welcome, H. Now we gotta work on Tripp and those liver and onion sandwiches.”
His boss raised his eyebrows and smiled again. “One thing at a time, Eric. One thing at a time.”
END
This is based on a practical joke that the San Francisco U.S. Forensics office used to pull on newbies and food-stealing D.C. bureaucrats.
I don't own anything of CSI Miami. If I did, Rick Stetler would be on a lot more often!
-------------------------------------------------------------------
But Was It A Candy Bar?
IAB Agent Rick Stetler ambled into the lab, tired, stressed, hungry and just in a foul mood. He hadn’t eaten anything all day. To make matters worse, that morning meeting with City Hall had run way over schedule.
Rick now walked angrily through the blue hallway, glaring suspiciously at everyone in his path. It didn’t go unnoticed that people walked on the other side from him, sensing that he was giving off the kind of grouchiness that could be felt. To mess with a hungry, grumpy Rick Stetler was to open oneself up for an investigation.
He reached the lab’s break room. Digging tiredly in his waist pocket for some change, he gazed into the vending machine. The Baby Ruth bar looked good he thought, sliding his wrinkled dollar bill into the slot.
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
Rick’s brown eyes blazed and he tensed up. This wasn’t what he needed right now.
“What do you mean ‘Out of Service’? You’re kidding me!” he snarled, slapping the machine furiously. He then stabbed the change return button. Nothing happened. The big box just sat there, silently taunting him with all those goodies on the other side of the glass, not even giving him back his dollar.
He now furiously scanned the break room. No bags of chips. No loaves of bread left out on the counter. Not even Tyler’s Cheetos.
The refrigerator. Maybe somebody left their lunch unmarked. If no name, it was fair game, was the general rule. His eyes darted about as he opened the refrigerator door and looked inside.
In an instant Rick shut his eyes and staggered backward when the aroma hit him like a freight train. Something in there smelled worse than the suicide on Alexx’s table two days ago. He gathered himself and looked again.
Nothing in there but Frank Tripp’s liver and onion sandwich and Maxine Valera’s diet drink. No leftover bagels or birthday cake. No Chinese food from the night shift. Of course, earlier that week he did lecture Horatio that the break room refrigerator was quickly turning into a science lab itself and ordered that it be cleaned out more regularly. For once somebody actually listened to him. He wrinkled his nose and slammed the door shut in disgust and frustration.
The hunger had now given him a throbbing headache. And getting a whiff of that liver and onion sandwich didn’t help matters any. With no hope of grabbing a quick lunch before his next meeting, he ambled suspiciously through the lab. He was sure he could feel an investigation coming on. Rick peered into the Trace Lab. Through the glass he spotted CSI Delko hunched over a microscope.
Was that a Baby Ruth wrapper on the counter next to him? Unmarked? Untagged? Worse yet, the very thing that vending machine had just taunted him with while taking his hard-earned dollar? He changed course and stepped in.
“Delko.”
Eric Delko sniffed contemptuously at the suspicious IAB agent. “Stetler. What are you sniffing around for?”
Rick raised his eyebrows at the crumpled-up Baby Ruth wrapper on the table next to the CSI. “You know there’s no eating allowed in this lab, Delko.”
Delko shrugged with a fake smile. “Who said I was eating in here?”
His eyes motioned down at the red and white wrapper. “What about that Baby Ruth wrapper on the table next to you?”
“Sergeant Stetler, that’s just a wrapper. How do you know I ate a candy bar just from a wrapper sitting on the table? For all you know, Berkeley or Calleigh, or even Lieutenant Caine could’ve left it there.”
Rick now leveled his eyes at him. “And you couldn’t be bothered to throw it in the trash? So on top of your usual lack of respect, you’re not keeping the lab up to cleanliness standards!”
With two fingers, Delko kept his eyes on Rick and picked up the offending wrapper, dropping it into the wastebasket. “Better? Sergeant Stetler?”
“I think I’ll just have a chat with your boss about your little attitude problem. Don’t go anywhere.” With that he left.
Rick now stood at the door of Horatio’s office. He waited impatiently for the Lieutenant to at least acknowledge his presence. But then he spotted something on the desk.
Was that the Baby Ruth bar?
Rick craned his neck and breathed deeply. Maybe he’d been a little too hard on Delko. Maybe it wouldn’t be a good idea to ream the Lieutenant about that sloppy lab right now. That Baby Ruth bar just looked so good, so delectable, and he was really hungry right now.
Horatio snapped his cell phone shut. “Looking for things to investigate, Rick?” he said dryly.
The IAB agent immediately softened his look and walked in, his eyes and stomach fixated on that little chocolaty piece of heaven that sat on the napkin on Horatio’s desk. A closer look revealed that only one bite had been taken from it. His heart welled up as he looked hopefully at Horatio.
“Horatio. You gonna eat that?” he asked, his eyes and stomach fixated on the desk.
Horatio motioned matter of factly. “Have at it, Rick. I just finished my lunch.”
Without another word, Rick snatched up the little slice of heaven and bit off a huge chunk. Immediately his brown eyes widened.
Instead of a firm, chocolaty piece of heaven, he was holding a damp, squishy brown lump in his hand. Instead of the sweet, crunchy nougat and peanuts he had fantasized about, he now tasted, well, he wasn’t quite sure.
Rick quickly swallowed it.
“This candy bar tastes funny” he said, wrinkling his face.
The redheaded Lieutenant now raised his eyebrows at him. “Whoever said that was a candy bar, Rick?”
Just then Rick’s eyes widened as he looked first at his nemesis and then at the funny-tasting, squishy brown mess in his hand. Come to think of it, the thing did smell kind of funny.
A million scenarios raced through his mind in a split second. Terror set in as he dropped the mess and sprinted out of Horatio’s office, his other hand over his mouth, his candy-striped tie trailing behind him.
Horatio sighed as he picked up a clean napkin, scooped up the mess, and dropped it into his trash can while listening to the blissful silence.
Delko tapped on his door. “H?”
“Eric.”
An amused smile crossed the CSI’s face as he glanced down the hallway. “Stetler sure left your office in a hurry. Everything okay?”
His boss smiled back. “It would seem he did. Why don’t you come in, Eric?”
Delko wandered in. “So what happened?”
“Hopefully we cured Sergeant Stetler of his little food-stealing habit. Maybe from now on he’ll ask before he just goes digging around in somebody’s lunch.”
Delko gave off that boyish grin. “Yep. Just take one Baby Ruth bar with some red and green food coloring. Soak in a little lime juice, and hey. Can’t tell the difference.”
“Thank you for showing me that one, Eric” Horatio said approvingly. “It really did taste awful.”
“You’re welcome, H. Now we gotta work on Tripp and those liver and onion sandwiches.”
His boss raised his eyebrows and smiled again. “One thing at a time, Eric. One thing at a time.”
END
