Title: Heat, part 1

Author: wolfmusic218 & Jessa4865

Summary: Triple digit temps, a busted appliance, and a threat of violence culminates in an offer Carter can't refuse.

Author's notes: This is basically a PWP with no redeeming social value whatsoever but was hella fun to write together. Since we can't post as co-authors, we'll each post 6 chapters. I (wolf) will take the first 6, Jess will take the last ones. Keep an eye out for a change in authors once we get to that point.

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John Reese was not a man to be trifled with, especially when he was bored. Being bored lent itself to him finding things to do, which usually lent to him getting into trouble more often than not.

He hadn't had a new number in two days. According to Finch, this was not unusual during the summer when the heat in the city hit triple digits, like it was today. The heat was usually the cause of random acts of violence; people short-tempered because the heat was making them that way. The organized, planned crimes seemed to take an air-conditioned hiatus for a little while.

He was starting to go a little stir crazy. The thought crossed his mind to call Carter and see what she was doing. He knew she had the day off, but figured she'd be spending her time with Taylor so he'd crossed that off the short list. Finch was sick of hearing from him and had told him in no uncertain terms that he would call him if something came up - Finch code for "don't call me, I'll call you." He'd read today's paper three times. Even the comics. He watched the park below from his apartment; it was even too hot for Han to be out playing chess.

He was about to clean his gun for the 2nd time when his phone rang. He knew he should feel guilty about being happy since it was usually Finch with a number, but regardless, he was. Until he glanced at the number; it wasn't Finch, it was Carter.

"Carter, what's wrong?" His voice sounded tense, even to his own ears. They'd come a long way in their friendship, but she rarely called just to chat.

"Have any new cases come up for you?"

His brows knit together in confusion. "No, not in the last couple of days. What's going on?"

"You might want to keep an eye out for a case involving me."

He stood quickly, grabbing his gun and checking the chamber, heading for the door. "Tell me what's wrong, Jos. I can be there in ten minutes or less, I swear." His heart beat hard and fast in his chest. He'd sworn an oath to himself months ago that he would never let her get hurt again. Ever.

"I'm going to kill my Super."

He stopped quickly at that, his hand on the doorknob, the phone wedged between his chin and shoulder. "Excuse me? Who?"

"My Super. The guy that runs my building. The same guy who says it might be 24 to 48 hours before he can even look at my air conditioning. It's 96 degrees in my apartment. I had to send Taylor to his grandmother's."

John pulled the phone away from his ear and stared at it. Was she serious? "Please tell me you're kidding."

"I'm not kidding. I'm going to kill him. I can't take this heat anymore."

When he heard her frustrated laugh, he leaned his head against the door and counted to ten. Slowly. "You scared the shit out of me, Carter."

There was silence on the other end of the phone for a long moment. "God, I'm sorry. I didn't even think…I thought you'd know…I'm sorry…."

The corner of his mouth turned up quickly at her apology. He let out a breath. "It's OK. Between the heat and the boredom, I think I was ready for anything. I should have known you were kidding."

He heard her sigh in his ear. "Seriously, I'm sorry."

He pushed away from the door and set his gun on the coffee table. "What can I do to help? If you need to get out of the heat, there are a lot of places you can go." He paused. "My AC is working, you could come here."

"Wow, you're offering to let me know where you live? That's a big step."

"Touché. But, for the record, I never kept it from you; you've just never asked. And yes, I'm offering."

He sat down on the couch and put his feet up. The banter between them always put him in a good mood. He loved that she never let him get away with anything, at least verbally; she held her own. It was a strange sort of turn-on.

"As much as I'd love to accept, I'll have to take a raincheck. Because of the rental agreement I signed, being a cop and possibly having sensitive materials here, I have to be here if someone comes to work in my apartment. I don't want to take the chance of missing him."

"Let me come and take a look at it." What the hell was he doing?

"What?" He could hear the confusion in her voice. He really didn't blame her; he had no idea what he was doing. He didn't know the first thing about fixing an air conditioner, but damn it, he wanted to see her. The thought surprised him.

"I'm not guaranteeing I can fix it, but what would it hurt? Don't you women say home maintenance is in the male DNA? I can't make it worse, can I?" He shook his head. He must be out of his mind.

The laugh that graced his ear was worth every awkward word. "No, I don't suppose you can. I wouldn't mind the company, either. And John?"

"Yeah."

"Bring a six pack with you. At least my fridge still works." At that, she hung up.

TBC