So I was attempting to write some fic for the Porn Battle, but due to the heat being the main focus of every Melbournian, including myself, it turned out like this.
TITLE: It's Rilly Hot
FANDOM: Juliet & Lassiter Variety Hour
PROMPT: Juliet/Lassiter, competition
It was a fine day in Santa Barbara, in the middle of a stinking hot summer. Two detectives stood around a squad room.
“Hay, Lassiter,” said the perky blonde one.
“Hay, O'Hara,” said the dour handsome one.
“Should we do some shit? Like, be competitive and stuff?” O'Hara asked, fanning herself with a pamphlet for a Chinese take-out place.
Lassiter shrugged, and took off his shirt. “Too hot. Do it tomorrow.”
“Well,” she replied, in that lazy way you do when you're dying from heat exhaustion, “we could always, y'know, do some porn. In a competitive way.”
Somewhere, someone turned on "Summer in the City" and Richard Beltzer walked past. "Hay," he said.
"Hay," replied everyone.
Then Shawn walked past and was generally annoying. Gus stood beside him and looked awesome, then dragged Shawn away, past Vick who was being underused in her office.
“My cat's breath smells like cat food,” said Buzz from nowhere.
“Awesome,” said That Dude from L.A. Law, who was trying to fish in the police issue fish tank, but the water was boiling from the sun coming through the window. "Who wants boiled guppy?"
“What?” shouted Lassiter, who woke up from a heat nap. Juliet ate an icey pole, and sighed.
“Lassiter. Porn. For the porn battle. Do you want to, like, get in my pants and stuff?”
“Well, we should probably be cute and competitive and...” Lassiter trailed off because the forty degree heat sapped his energy, and he laid on his desk. His partner joined him, sucking on the icey pole in a loud and not-phallic-at-all way.
“Is this sexy? Do you want to try?”
“Oh,” Lassiter said, taking Juliet's icey pole. He attempted to eat it seductively, but ended up gobbling it all in a frenzy - making the desk sticky in the process (note: not in the way you think).
“Ew,” Juliet said, scrunching her nose. “Stuff it, it's too freakin' hot.”
“Yeah. True dat.”
And they sat in the squad room and occasionally complained about how hot it was.
Awesome! It just went from 43 degrees to 42! YES.