Title: Humitity
By: Caroline Crane
Pairing: Nick/Greg

~

The first thing Nick notices when he gets back to the lab is the stillness in the air. It's thick, heavy like the sky in Texas just before a thunderstorm breaks. It takes another second to realize that it's no cooler in the building than it was in the parking lot; in fact, he's pretty sure it's a little hotter, because there's not even a chance of a breeze inside.

It's quiet as he makes his way down the hall toward the office. There are people around, working in their labs or stopping to lean against a counter and fan themselves with whatever they can find. They're moving slower than usual, though, as though the heavy air in the lab is slowing everything around it down. For a second he flashes to those zombie movies Greg rents sometimes, the ones where the music gives it away right before something terrible happens. When he realizes what he's thinking he shakes his head and picks up his pace, but he can't help feeling a little weird about walking fast when everything around him is moving in slow motion.

At the door of the office he stops, taking in the sight of Greg and Riley wilting in their chairs, feet propped up on their desks as a fan slowly oscillates between them. "Air conditioning's out," Greg says, sort of moaning the words like he's dying. Or melting, which is probably what he'd claim if Nick bothered to ask.

"So that means you can't work your case?"

"Waiting for a call from Brass," Riley answers, and she sounds even more pathetic than Greg. Nick thinks about making a crack about the amount of time they've been spending working together, but then Greg will accuse him of being jealous for a week, and he's not, so it's not worth it.

Instead he crosses to Greg's desk and pushes his feet onto the floor. "Come on."

"Where are we going?" Greg asks, but he stands up so Nick chooses to ignore the whine in his voice.

"Hey, we're supposed to be waiting for Brass to call," Riley says, but she doesn't even stir from her spot in front of the fan.

"So if he calls, you call Greg's cell," Nick says, pronouncing the words slowly enough to make her raise an eyebrow at him. But she still doesn't move, so he grins and tugs Greg toward the door.

When they're halfway down the hall Greg looks over at him, the petulant frown replaced with a grin, and for a second Nick sort of regrets coming up with this plan. "So where are we going? Because if you're looking for a little afternoon delight, I'm certainly not going to discourage a sudden display of spontaneity, but I have to warn you, I'm probably not going to perform at a hundred percent in this heat."

Nick rolls his eyes and digs in his pocket for his keys, pushing the front door open and herding Greg outside before he answers. "First of all, we are not having sex on the clock. And we're sure as hell not going to talk about it in the lab."

"Relax," Greg says, rolling his eyes as he climbs into Nick's truck. "Everybody's too busy melting into a puddle of bodily fluids to pay any attention to us."

Nick wrinkles his nose at that image and starts the truck, backing it out of the parking spot and pointing it toward the Albertsons down the street. All he'd been planning to do was get Greg out of the office for awhile, to drag him into the grocery store to buy ice cream for everyone at the lab and maybe bask in the air conditioning for a little while before they headed back. His plan seems kind of boring compared to Greg's, but there's no way they're going home to their own air conditioning in the middle of a shift, no matter how private it is. At least not when Riley's around to tell Catherine that they left the lab together.

He pulls into the grocery store parking lot and finds an open spot, then he turns off the engine and glances over at Greg. "It's not sex on the clock, but it's air conditioned. We can pick up ice cream to take back and I'll let you take all the credit."

Greg grins and leans forward, pressing a quick kiss to Nick's cheek. His skin feels hot against Nick's, and it's all he can do not to catch Greg's arm and haul him forward again. "My hero," Greg says, grinning when Nick laughs and shakes his head. He climbs out of the truck and catches up with Greg, hand on the center of his back as they hurry toward the promise of air conditioning.

"You know," Greg says as they step inside, pausing to let the wave of cool air hit them full force, "the bathroom in this place is air conditioned too."

"Forget it," Nick says in the sternest voice he can manage, but he feels the tips of his ears turn pink, and for the first time all day he's glad for the heat outside.