Disclaimer - I own nothing and all mistakes are my own!

I haven't written anything new for a while now and I'm not very happy with this one, but it'll do as I get back in the swing of things.

Written for the Chit Chat on Author's Corner, Heat Wave Challenge

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner/Derek Morgan (friendship)... with a side of JJ/Hotch (kinda)

Prompts: Soaring temperature, thunderstorm and bikini top

...

It was hot.

Unbearably hot in the black SUV with a broken air-con.

The temperatures had soared since yesterday afternoon in Northern Arizona. It had gone from 62F to 111'F over night as the two agents travelled through Arizona in hope of getting to the Kingman prison by late afternoon.

An inmate, in the minimum/medium state prison had confessed to a murder which he hadn't be tried for, causing the impromptu trip across state, so the two profilers could question the prisoner before his transfer.

Hotch tightened his grip on the steering wheel, an attempt to stop his hand from wandering over to his gun, safely tucked in the side of the door.

It was hot and getting hotter.

Both windows were down, the sky was grey but the temperature was still rising.

111.6F

Another moan escaped the passenger's lips.

Hotch gripped the wheel tighter. The light conversation the two colleagues participated in had dwindled, half an hour after leaving the rest of the team at the airport several hours prior.

Both men wanted to be home along with the rest of the BAU team, but no, here they were sitting in a steaming pot of a car, frying in their own sweat.

The younger profiler moaned again in frustration at the heat. "Man, it's hot."

"I know." Hotch readjusted his tie in discomfort. "You've been telling me it's hot for the last forty eight miles."

Morgan stuck his hand out of the open window, hoping to catch a small breeze. "Seriously, this weather is unnatural. There's no air."

"160." Hotch muttered under his breath.

Morgan frowned as he turned his head towards the driver. "What?"

"We've got, 160 miles to go." The Unit Chief answered sternly.

The Chicago born agent, nodded in response. "Great."

An uncomfortable silence over took the small compartment once again.

The team had left for the sleepy town of Winslow, Arizona, a week earlier and had been travelling to and from Flagstaff as their UNSUB travelled back and forth leaving a trail of bodies in between.

It had been an open and closed case, but the amount of travel and seemingly endless tasks and assignments had made it a stressful case. The case had become more stressful after the case ended and no plane was available for twenty four hours.

The team could travel coach home, but instead Hotch gave them downtime for the day in Arizona. The free day had started well, with everyone going their own way after spending too much time together. But once everyone had come together again for dinner, petty arguments and ribbing begun amongst the tired friends, all of whom just wanted to be home.

"Uhhrr." Morgan sighed once more as he ran his hand over his eyes.

Gritting his teeth, Hotch turned his head slightly to see the younger man frowning in discomfort of the heat.

Morgan rested his head on the hand, with his elbow on the window sill. "Uhhrr."

Feeling irritated, Hotch shifted uncomfortably in his seat, focusing once again on the empty stretch of road in front of them.

A low grumble emanated in the car somewhere, causing the on-edge agent to snap. "FOR GODSAKE DEREK IT'S WARM, I GET IT, BUT I CAN'T DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT, SO WILL YOU PLEASE JUST..."

"HOTCH!" Morgan yelled in reply, silencing the older agent. "That wasn't me."

Suddenly the car began to violently jerk, forcing the Unit Chief to swiftly slide onto the hard shoulder and break quickly.

Both profilers breathed in deeply, calming their adrenaline fuelled hearts as they sat in the motionless car.

Steam was funnelling out of the car bonnet, turning from white to black as the seconds passed. Hotch was the first to react, opening his door and jogging to the front of the car.

Morgan followed suit, grimacing as Hotch reached to open the black car hood. "SHIT!"

"You alright man?" the younger agent asked his colleague while he sucked on his burnt fingers.

Hotch glared at the profiler in ridiculed. "No, I burnt my goddamn fingers and the hood's about to blow off."

The steam was pressurizing from underneath, causing a loud, high pitched whine. Hotch pointed to the passenger's side of the door. "Check to see if there're any rags or anything useful in the dash board."

"Fine." Morgan replied with a nod.

Hotch reached for the cell-phone in his pocket to call for roadside assistance, only to frown as he noticed he had no signal. "Great."

Staring at the smoke billowing out of the hood, the senior agent could feel the stress of the day weighing on his shoulders.

"Will this do?" Morgan asked slyly when he returned to the front of the car.

Hotch looked up to see his friend holding up a turquoise and gold bikini top from its back clasp. "Erm."

Morgan grinned widely as the red blush spread across his boss's face. "What exactly, did you and JJ, get up to yesterday when you went into town?"

"Der...Morgan..." Hotch spluttered in embarrassment.

The amused profiler threw the garment across the car bonnet over to the other man. "It's not your colour and I remember JJ looking particularly fine in a similar shade on the Fourth of July at Rossi's pool party."

"Derek." Hotch stated warningly at the glint in his colleague's eye, whilst clutching the bikini top in his hands.

Morgan shrugged as he sauntered around the car. "JJ's hot. She's been single for a while now. Yesterday she looked particularly fine sauntering around the hotel pool, if only I'd known that she was available, I would have taken her aside and let her known what we could have been getting up to in..."

Hotch raised his fist, dragging the bikini top along as it collided with Morgan's jaw. While the Chicago native fell to the ground in a heap, Hotch stood frozen in fear of what he'd just done in reflex. "Morgan."

"Damn, man it's that serious?" Derek rubbed his jaw soothingly. "I was just messing around with you."

"I'm so sorry." Hotch's wide eyes apologised pleading, as he held out a hand for the agent on the ground.

"You gonna punch every guy that makes a comment about JJ?" He asked curiously when he took his SAC's hand gratefully.

As the standing agent pulled his colleague to his feet, a loud bang shook area and flash of bright light lit the grey sky.

Hotch covered Morgan instinctively in protection from the anticipated, exploding car and turned them away.

Both were suddenly lying on the floor, covering their heads with their hands, their mouths full of dust.

Assessing that nothing had caused them injuries, Hotch coughed and shuffled back from his friend and stood slowly. They turned to face the car which was only a few feet away.

The hood had lifted slightly from the car but other than the white steam returning, nothing had changed.

Lightning forks filled the air, brightening the sky once more followed instantly by loud rumblings of thunder.

The two men began to laugh, realising that they had reacted to the thunder and lightning and not to an exploding car when they fell to the ground moments earlier.

Hotch helped Morgan to his feet again, once their laughter had ceased. "We should walk back along the road, we've got no signal here. And I don't know about you, but I need a drink."

"Sure as long as you don't tackle me to the ground if I step on a twig and you think it's a sniper." Morgan retorted with a grin as he hobbled towards the car to secure their belongings.

"Are you going to be alright?" Hotch raised his eye as he asked in concern, whilst looking over his friend's injuries.

Feeling his bloodied lip, his bruised swollen jaw and sore foot, then looking down at the scratches on his hands as well as the rips in his clothes, Derek Morgan shook his head slowly, "Hotch, man, I'm never going on another road trip with you."

...

Thanks for reading!