Stoking The Fire

Chapter Sixteen

I jump with a girly little squeal, and smile inanely at the man on the other side of the glass. I grab my phone and my camcorder and the keys and hop out of the car, locking it behind me quickly as I bounce in a bubbly, airheaded demeanor.

"Simmons you scared the crap out of me! I thought Pritchard was coming?"

"Oh, he was but he had an emergency, so I jumped in to cover for him. Least I could do, he's done for me a million times!"

"Now see, that's what I love about the lab and the PD! Just the family and camaraderie and oh! Just so much love!"

"You're in a much better mood than you were earlier." he chuckles, and I laugh ditzily.

"Yeah I've had like 5 cups of coffee already, I'm a little wired now sorry."

"So, I thought they got everything earlier? Did you guys miss something?"

"Oh no, It's just stupid fucking thing Nick wants me to do. A field test, if you will." I snark, rolling my eyes like it's such a chore, oh my god.

"Field test?"

"Yeah, he's hell-bent on getting me out in the field full time - hang on." I grab my phone out of my pocket, and start fiddling with the music, acting very aggravated. I do the whole 'trying to get a good signal' schtick, and sigh in frustration. "God the signal out here is shit!" I exclaim.

"Trying to get a hold of your boyfriend?" he asks, amused.

"What? No, I don't have a boyfriend." I wave my hand dismissively. "No, I'm trying to get my music to connect. Ugh, god I hate being out in the field!" I exclaim, irritatedly. He gives me a very confused look.

"You don't like being in the field?" he asks, puzzled.

"God no, I fucking hate it with a passion!" I shake my head, and finally just shove my phone back in my pocket with a grunt. I see him looking at me like I've sprouted another head. "Look, I put on a good show for him because he says I'm good at it and it's where he needs me right now, and I don't want to disappoint the bossman. I mean, he's such a puppy dog right? But I can't fucking stand it out here, with the blood and brains and bodily fluids, and the dirt? Ugh. Oh and here we have sand? I fucking hate sand. It's coarse, it's rough, and it gets everywhere." I shake my head again.

"But back to the matter at hand: Bossman wants me, to take this camcorder, and go inside, and record myself going over the crime scene, with what little bit I was shown of the case notes all stored up in my pretty little brain, and see if I can see how they came to the conclusions they did, or if I come to different conclusions, which of course if I do then I have to explain why. Ugh, I want to work on computer forensics all day but I suppose when the boss gives you an order, you do it." I know I'm rambling, but I'm doing it on purpose. I know the shit is going to hit the fan very quickly. As soon as I saw Simmons, I knew. I'm in deep shit unless I can get him to underestimate me.

"So, I've never done one of these before, do you need me to help with any equipment or anything special?"

"Oh no, it's just me, this camcorder, and my lovely little grey matter." I quip, and I have to wonder if I've pushed it too far.

"Essentially I'm going to start recording the scene, and I'll be verbally dictating my observations and findings. The only thing I'm asking you to do is make sure no nasty monsters or huge scary bugs eat me while I'm out here alone." He looked at me sideways again, and I laugh.

"Yeah, yeah I know, quite the change in demeanor from cussing you out earlier right? I swear once I get past my fourth cup of coffee in a row I feel like I've snorted pure CareBear DNA. The crash is a bitch though." I fiddle with the camcorder a bit, and laugh. "So, before that happens, to coin a phrase: Can we get it up?"