Fic: Exothermic Reactions (Multifandom; PG; for pairings see note)
Title: Exothermic Reactions
Fandoms: Stargate Atlantis AU, Ocean’s 11, Bones, Criminal Minds, and Due South
Pairings: John/Rodney, Fraser/Ray K; others pretty much gen
Word Count: 1,504 in total
Rating: PG for language and mention of nakedness.
Warnings: none. No spoilers either!
Summary: It’s too darn hot. Five looks at some of our favorite people surviving the warmth of summer.
1. Thermoregulation
( Elementary!verse AU, 258 words)
“Why isn’t it snowing?” Rodney’s irritated whine had stopped sounding mature hours ago.
“Rodney, it’s July.”
“Still…”
“It’s July. In Pennsylvania.” John tries to sound patient and keep the edge out of his voice, but he started getting a headache last twenty minutes ago, and the continued blast of too-warm air from the open window and the persistent itch of sweat trickling down his neck into his t-shirt is driving him slowly crazy.
“Yeah,” Rodney says, sounding defeated and sulky and not much older than six.
“Any cooler down there?” John says, amused despite his slightly cranky wriggle on the overly warm couch.
“I’ll have you know that cold air sinks,” Rodney declares with an impressive amount of volume, especially considering he’s lying flat on the carpeted living room floor about a foot away.
“Then why is there snow on top of mountains?” John argues, tipping his beer to catch the last few almost-cold drops in his mouth.
Rodney starts babbling about pressure zones and geological shifts and then gets distracted into recounting a childhood memory of a freak snow storm in August, then a bitter diatribe against the ridiculousness of a Batman villain not only being called Mr. Freeze, but by then being played by the governor of California, of all people.
By this time, the breeze feels like it's cooled (helped no doubt by the frequent application of cold beer and a short wash cloth fight) and John stops thinking about his headache, so he slides off the couch to curl next to Rodney on the carpet and lazily nap away the time until dinner.
2. Hot Streak
(Ocean’s 11, 339 words)
Rusty makes the mistake of going for a walk down the Strip smack in the middle of the day (he can’t sit still, the Benedict job goes down in 38 hours and counting) and has to wait out the worst of it in some casino a few block from the hotel, eating from a plate of French fries with one hand and sticking coins into a slot machine with the other. The sound is almost soothing.
He’s about to leave, patience and change both tapped, when he notices a crowd forming at a poker table right where the slot machines give way to card games. Rusty slips past tourists and curious card sharks until he can see the players and right there is Danny with a hand of cards and a decent stack of chips in front of him on the felt.
Rusty watches Danny joke with the dealer and the businessman sitting to his left (a terrible bluffer, should have folded three bets ago) and flirt with no real intent with the slightly nervous looking lady in green sunglasses seated to his right (she’s either working on a straight or holding an ace, something’s giving her fingers a twitch of nervous excitement). Rusty knows that if he watches Danny long enough, he’d be able to figure the game he’s really playing-trying to gain some easy cash (running a con on Linus on top of the one on Benedict wasn't exactly cheap), or to string the suit along until the lady came up with good cards. Hell, maybe Danny was just in the mood for a game of poker.
Rusty grins, then lets the crowd push and slide around him until he can fight his way against the current to get out of the casino, expertly steering around the “lost” tourist helping himself to wallets at the corner. He heads back to grab a beer at the bar, ready to tilt an impressed eyebrow when Danny reappears with a wad of bills in his pocket and a proud smile on his face.
3. Home Remedy
(Bones, 271 words)
The haze of heat that had blanketed DC all day still hadn't really broken even though it was dark. Booth finds Brennan sitting on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial. He holds out the blue slurpy he was drinking (the spoils of an afternoon goofing off with Parker) and smiles a bit when she takes the cup for a long sip.
“I took Parker to a movie,” he says as a kind of hello. “Air conditioning almost made the ticket price worth it.”
“Did you know that the ancient Persians used to eat muskmelons to naturally lower their body temperature in warm weather?” Brennan says.
“I have to say, Bones, that I'm pretty sure I didn't know that," Booth says. He takes an extra long sip of his slurpy, thinking. "Bet slurpies taste better."
“Booth, cucumis melo is cultivated in many regions of the world...”
“Bones. Slurpies are awesome. Don’t knock the slurpy.”
As arguments go, it’s a pretty ridiculous one, even for them. But Booth figures that if he gets Brennan to wander off on a tangent about some group's ancient ice-tasting festival, then he won’t have to think about the finished case file still sitting on his desk, the suspect’s sweaty wrists as Booth cuffed him, the empty look on Mrs. Jordan’s face as she accepted that her son was truly dead. So right now it’s enough to make Brennan wrinkle her nose when he tries to explain how the blue flavoring actually has vitamins in it, and then laugh about the crazy movie he saw with Parker, and share a slurpy, maybe grab something familiar and comforting at the diner later. More than enough.
4. Boiling Point
(Criminal Minds, 393 words)
Iced coffee totally lost its appeal after the ice melted. Morgan swirled the watery liquid around in his cup and then glared at Reid, who somehow didn’t seem bothered by the abnormal heatwave now hitting the UNSUB-infested town of Dorsey, Georgia.
“Think my brain’s going to boil,” he muttered and crankily shifted through the police reports for something they might have missed.
“Well, seeing as the human body is 70% water and that water boils at 200 degrees," Reid began, "and factoring in that boiling-point elevation states that a solution will have a higher boiling point than that of a pure solvent after the addition of a dissolved solute… it’s highly unlikely that the spinal fluid around your brain would be able to reach temperatures high enough to attain a boil without a much hotter external heat source. Of course, the proteins in your brain matter will denaturate at a much lower-”
“Never mind,” Morgan groaned.
Reid almost looked like he might keep going, but fortunately then Rossi called for him from the next room and Morgan was alone.
Prentiss stuck her head in a moment later and Morgan didn’t even mind her laugh at the ridiculous sound of gratitude he made as she handed him a new cup icy with condensation.
“Hotch says he’s giving the profile in five,” Prentiss said and Morgan managed to make an accepting noise around the huge sip he'd just taken.
“Thanks you," he said, gathering the papers into a pile. "You? Are a life saver.”
“Yeah,” said Prentiss with a laugh. “I’d hate to tell Garcia you killed Reid. Though honestly, how is he not melting like the rest of us? I had to promise to do half of his unfinished reports to get him to not wear the vest, for God’s sake, it was driving me crazy. You know it's boiling--even Hotch has his sleeves rolled up. ”
“You forget,” Reid’s voice came from the doorway, surprising the two of them. He grinned. “I grew up in Las Vegas. This is cold to me.”
“Get out before I dump this on your head, pretty boy," Morgan said.
"That'd be such a waste of good coffee!" Prentiss complained.
Reid only grinned wider and then they could hear Hotch calling the officers together, so the three of them made their way down the hall to the squad room, Reid easily dodging Morgan’s playful shoulder swat on the way.
5. Pressure Changes
(Due South, 255 words)
Ray Kowalski can hear Fraser open his mouth to say something and beats him to it.
“If you’re about to tell me that your natural layer of subcutaneous fat means that this damn Chicago heat doesn’t bother you, or that there’s a profound and meaningful Inuit story to help the situation, then so help me, I’m going to go stay at the Vecchio’s.”
Fraser clears his throat.
“I would think that Ray might find it odd if you showed up on his doorstep at 2 in the morning.”
Ray shrugs.
“Yeah, well, I figure he’s put up with about as much of your craziness as I have, so he’d probably do me a solid.”
Though he can't see him, Ray can tell by Fraser’s voice that he is raising an eyebrow.
“I have a hard time believing you’d leave our bed in the middle of the night to go bother the entire Vecchio household.”
“Hey, I’m unpredictable, what can I say?”
“You realize you’d have to put on clothes first?”
“...there goes that plan.” Ray rolls until he can rest his head on Fraser’s chest, curl an arm around Fraser's waist, which despite the sticky weight of a hot Chicago summer night always feels damn near perfect.
Fraser presses a kiss to Ray’s forehead.
“I'm so glad that I could appeal to your reasonable side," he said dryly. "Although for the record? I was simply going to wish you a restful sleep, Ray.”
Ray makes a skeptical noise, but raises his head a bit to give Fraser a kiss, then resettles with a satisfied grin.
“Night, Frase.”
"Sleep well, Ray."
- end
Fandoms: Stargate Atlantis AU, Ocean’s 11, Bones, Criminal Minds, and Due South
Pairings: John/Rodney, Fraser/Ray K; others pretty much gen
Word Count: 1,504 in total
Rating: PG for language and mention of nakedness.
Warnings: none. No spoilers either!
Summary: It’s too darn hot. Five looks at some of our favorite people surviving the warmth of summer.
1. Thermoregulation
( Elementary!verse AU, 258 words)
“Why isn’t it snowing?” Rodney’s irritated whine had stopped sounding mature hours ago.
“Rodney, it’s July.”
“Still…”
“It’s July. In Pennsylvania.” John tries to sound patient and keep the edge out of his voice, but he started getting a headache last twenty minutes ago, and the continued blast of too-warm air from the open window and the persistent itch of sweat trickling down his neck into his t-shirt is driving him slowly crazy.
“Yeah,” Rodney says, sounding defeated and sulky and not much older than six.
“Any cooler down there?” John says, amused despite his slightly cranky wriggle on the overly warm couch.
“I’ll have you know that cold air sinks,” Rodney declares with an impressive amount of volume, especially considering he’s lying flat on the carpeted living room floor about a foot away.
“Then why is there snow on top of mountains?” John argues, tipping his beer to catch the last few almost-cold drops in his mouth.
Rodney starts babbling about pressure zones and geological shifts and then gets distracted into recounting a childhood memory of a freak snow storm in August, then a bitter diatribe against the ridiculousness of a Batman villain not only being called Mr. Freeze, but by then being played by the governor of California, of all people.
By this time, the breeze feels like it's cooled (helped no doubt by the frequent application of cold beer and a short wash cloth fight) and John stops thinking about his headache, so he slides off the couch to curl next to Rodney on the carpet and lazily nap away the time until dinner.
2. Hot Streak
(Ocean’s 11, 339 words)
Rusty makes the mistake of going for a walk down the Strip smack in the middle of the day (he can’t sit still, the Benedict job goes down in 38 hours and counting) and has to wait out the worst of it in some casino a few block from the hotel, eating from a plate of French fries with one hand and sticking coins into a slot machine with the other. The sound is almost soothing.
He’s about to leave, patience and change both tapped, when he notices a crowd forming at a poker table right where the slot machines give way to card games. Rusty slips past tourists and curious card sharks until he can see the players and right there is Danny with a hand of cards and a decent stack of chips in front of him on the felt.
Rusty watches Danny joke with the dealer and the businessman sitting to his left (a terrible bluffer, should have folded three bets ago) and flirt with no real intent with the slightly nervous looking lady in green sunglasses seated to his right (she’s either working on a straight or holding an ace, something’s giving her fingers a twitch of nervous excitement). Rusty knows that if he watches Danny long enough, he’d be able to figure the game he’s really playing-trying to gain some easy cash (running a con on Linus on top of the one on Benedict wasn't exactly cheap), or to string the suit along until the lady came up with good cards. Hell, maybe Danny was just in the mood for a game of poker.
Rusty grins, then lets the crowd push and slide around him until he can fight his way against the current to get out of the casino, expertly steering around the “lost” tourist helping himself to wallets at the corner. He heads back to grab a beer at the bar, ready to tilt an impressed eyebrow when Danny reappears with a wad of bills in his pocket and a proud smile on his face.
3. Home Remedy
(Bones, 271 words)
The haze of heat that had blanketed DC all day still hadn't really broken even though it was dark. Booth finds Brennan sitting on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial. He holds out the blue slurpy he was drinking (the spoils of an afternoon goofing off with Parker) and smiles a bit when she takes the cup for a long sip.
“I took Parker to a movie,” he says as a kind of hello. “Air conditioning almost made the ticket price worth it.”
“Did you know that the ancient Persians used to eat muskmelons to naturally lower their body temperature in warm weather?” Brennan says.
“I have to say, Bones, that I'm pretty sure I didn't know that," Booth says. He takes an extra long sip of his slurpy, thinking. "Bet slurpies taste better."
“Booth, cucumis melo is cultivated in many regions of the world...”
“Bones. Slurpies are awesome. Don’t knock the slurpy.”
As arguments go, it’s a pretty ridiculous one, even for them. But Booth figures that if he gets Brennan to wander off on a tangent about some group's ancient ice-tasting festival, then he won’t have to think about the finished case file still sitting on his desk, the suspect’s sweaty wrists as Booth cuffed him, the empty look on Mrs. Jordan’s face as she accepted that her son was truly dead. So right now it’s enough to make Brennan wrinkle her nose when he tries to explain how the blue flavoring actually has vitamins in it, and then laugh about the crazy movie he saw with Parker, and share a slurpy, maybe grab something familiar and comforting at the diner later. More than enough.
4. Boiling Point
(Criminal Minds, 393 words)
Iced coffee totally lost its appeal after the ice melted. Morgan swirled the watery liquid around in his cup and then glared at Reid, who somehow didn’t seem bothered by the abnormal heatwave now hitting the UNSUB-infested town of Dorsey, Georgia.
“Think my brain’s going to boil,” he muttered and crankily shifted through the police reports for something they might have missed.
“Well, seeing as the human body is 70% water and that water boils at 200 degrees," Reid began, "and factoring in that boiling-point elevation states that a solution will have a higher boiling point than that of a pure solvent after the addition of a dissolved solute… it’s highly unlikely that the spinal fluid around your brain would be able to reach temperatures high enough to attain a boil without a much hotter external heat source. Of course, the proteins in your brain matter will denaturate at a much lower-”
“Never mind,” Morgan groaned.
Reid almost looked like he might keep going, but fortunately then Rossi called for him from the next room and Morgan was alone.
Prentiss stuck her head in a moment later and Morgan didn’t even mind her laugh at the ridiculous sound of gratitude he made as she handed him a new cup icy with condensation.
“Hotch says he’s giving the profile in five,” Prentiss said and Morgan managed to make an accepting noise around the huge sip he'd just taken.
“Thanks you," he said, gathering the papers into a pile. "You? Are a life saver.”
“Yeah,” said Prentiss with a laugh. “I’d hate to tell Garcia you killed Reid. Though honestly, how is he not melting like the rest of us? I had to promise to do half of his unfinished reports to get him to not wear the vest, for God’s sake, it was driving me crazy. You know it's boiling--even Hotch has his sleeves rolled up. ”
“You forget,” Reid’s voice came from the doorway, surprising the two of them. He grinned. “I grew up in Las Vegas. This is cold to me.”
“Get out before I dump this on your head, pretty boy," Morgan said.
"That'd be such a waste of good coffee!" Prentiss complained.
Reid only grinned wider and then they could hear Hotch calling the officers together, so the three of them made their way down the hall to the squad room, Reid easily dodging Morgan’s playful shoulder swat on the way.
5. Pressure Changes
(Due South, 255 words)
Ray Kowalski can hear Fraser open his mouth to say something and beats him to it.
“If you’re about to tell me that your natural layer of subcutaneous fat means that this damn Chicago heat doesn’t bother you, or that there’s a profound and meaningful Inuit story to help the situation, then so help me, I’m going to go stay at the Vecchio’s.”
Fraser clears his throat.
“I would think that Ray might find it odd if you showed up on his doorstep at 2 in the morning.”
Ray shrugs.
“Yeah, well, I figure he’s put up with about as much of your craziness as I have, so he’d probably do me a solid.”
Though he can't see him, Ray can tell by Fraser’s voice that he is raising an eyebrow.
“I have a hard time believing you’d leave our bed in the middle of the night to go bother the entire Vecchio household.”
“Hey, I’m unpredictable, what can I say?”
“You realize you’d have to put on clothes first?”
“...there goes that plan.” Ray rolls until he can rest his head on Fraser’s chest, curl an arm around Fraser's waist, which despite the sticky weight of a hot Chicago summer night always feels damn near perfect.
Fraser presses a kiss to Ray’s forehead.
“I'm so glad that I could appeal to your reasonable side," he said dryly. "Although for the record? I was simply going to wish you a restful sleep, Ray.”
Ray makes a skeptical noise, but raises his head a bit to give Fraser a kiss, then resettles with a satisfied grin.
“Night, Frase.”
"Sleep well, Ray."
- end