The latest in my UAE series. And yes, they are all really written about the United Arab Emirates. I don't know where you're getting this notion that they're Xiaolin Showdown fanfics. I don't think this one is my best work. Not by a long shot. But I got the inspiration and I felt like writing it. (AKA I am procrastinating on like everything.) It's a lot easier to make the UAE fics funny when it's Jack narrating, but hey, can't win them all. So, without further ado, I give you my latest nonsense.

Disclaimer: I'm really not sure about the status of the pig in Grissom's former office. I've got like four back episode of CSI that I need to watch on Hulu, but I just don't have the time. So I'm just going to say that I don't own anything.

Microwaves

The box spat blue sparks and trembled on the marble. Thick black smoke oozed from the front and quickly filled the air. A beeping noise came from somewhere behind her, but it didn't hold her attention. She could feel the heat radiating from the box, smell the singed hair where she hadn't dodged a spark fast enough, hear the whirr of the box.

She set out immediately from the room, careful to use a little of her remaining magic to lock the door behind her. If she was lucky, she could keep this under wraps. There had to be a way to fix the demon box. The library probably had something on demon box repair. It was some time around eleven in the morning, so Chase was probably training with the cats so it would be safe to do some research without him finding out.

She darted to the massive oak doors and slipped in. She went straight to the spirit section for information on demon boxes. She'd spent so much time in that puzzle box she was behind on more modern methods of spirit capture. She knew of a couple varieties of imps that would shoot sparks if you needed to use them to heat a potion. Of course, you captured those in a lamp or a tinderbox. Something that would be useful. Why you would ever put one in a box was beyond her.

She'd seen Chase and the cats using it often enough to know what it was used for though. She'd even seen Jack using a similar device to heat what he called "the food of the gods." AKA nasty instant ramen that wouldn't pass for god food in any pantheon that she'd known over the course of her lifetime. Perhaps the standards for immortals passing themselves off to humans as gods had fallen over the course of her fifteen hundred year imprisonment.

She found a book on electrical spirits. She figured that she should probably know more seeing as she spent a year and a half with Mr. Modern Technology, but all she really learned from watching Jack was that he could blow up kitchen appliances in less than five minutes and that his mother was typically less than pleased about that. She did know that it was generally a good idea to ask Jack to help, but she didn't have time for that.

On page forty-two she found an imp that would cause similar reactions to what she saw in the demon box. Proper expulsion charms wouldn't require anything out of the ordinary given the odd assortment of potion ingredients in the citadel. A few minutes and a trip to a storeroom later, she was back in the kitchen with a unicorn horn, stardust, eye of newt, wool of dog, and some monkshood to dispel it. Oddly enough, the box was no longer shooting sparks by the time she returned.

"What in the name of all that is unholy did you do to my microwave?" a newly blond dragon warlord said, stepping out of the shadows. Between the game piece induced haircut and the "your hair clashes with the dress" induced dye job he looked like a Side Avenue Guy. Thankfully, it was cheap dye so it was washing out. Unfortunately, it was cheap dye and was washing out in awkward streaks.

"I needed to heat a potion to make it work properly. Your demon box attacked me," she explained. It wasn't like she was doing something stupid like trying to make a robot out of a blender.

"You put a spoon in the microwave. How long did you live with Spicer? He practically lives off that god awful ramen. You should have something as simple as a microwave figured out," he said, holding the bowl filled with sizzling neon blue liquid out to her. The spoon she used to stir it crackled with electricity. At least the potion was still useable.

"I have fifteen hundred years' worth of technology to catch up on. Sorry if this particular device missed my attention," she said. It wasn't like she missed something important like cars, cellphones, electricity, tesla coils, the periodic table, the UN, coffee makers, or online shopping. His reputation with technology wasn't exactly flawless either. He'd learned to drive in a three wheeled car some time in the late eighteen hundreds. He'd never bothered to keep up to date.

He didn't respond, just surveyed the wreckage. He tapped his fingers on the edge of the bowl, considering his options. She really hoped he wouldn't throw her out over a micro-thingy. Her loyalty was tenuous enough as it was what with him taking her powers and preventing her from doing anything to remedy that. If she was out over this unfortunate events would ensue.

"It clashed with the décor anyway," she offered. It did. And that counter top was cracked too, but she got the feeling that it might possibly be a bad idea to bring that up now.

"I've got bigger things to worry about than this," he said after a bit of awkward silence. "Jack is inviting us to a Karaoke Night. While it is always worthwhile to watch Spicer make a fool of himself, he's also inviting Hannibal and that intolerable crazy cat lady." Like he wasn't a crazy cat man himself.

"Good to know we're avoiding this," she said, taking the potion from him, their fingers lingering together on the bowl for a few seconds longer than was really necessary. "It will give me time to learn how to properly use this micro-thingy."

"Who said anything about avoiding it?" he said. "If the Side Avenue Guy look fits, I'm going to use it to the best of my ability to show up that has-been bean." This was going to end so well. Although she supposed that she had nothing better to do this week.

So...what do you think? Just how bad is it? Please be honest with me. Feel free to flame if you like because I've got a bag of marshmallows that I would like to share with reviewers. Flames mean that we get to toast them. And I'd much rather have toasted marshmallows than the plain ones. Or just review. That makes me happy too.