A/N: A noun! Have we had one of these yet? Anyway, here is Kelzywolf's word, inspired by the weather at the time.

Blizzard

No one in the CBI building could keep their eyes away from the windows for long.

The snow.

Dear God, the snow. It was dumping down in relentless sheets and the primarily Californian population within felt awed and belittled by its mystifying presence. They were unused to these feelings and they didn't like them one bit. Californians were battle-hardened when it came to earthquakes. They were Vikings if nature threw them a raging forest fire. Floods? Drought? Man, the ecosystem was invited to do its worst.

But snow?

Suddenly the entire west side of the state felt paralyzed.

Rigsby dragged his eyes away for the millionth time and looked over to Cho. "How the hell are we supposed to ride out to El Dorado county in this shit? The cars aren't equipped for it and that dead body is only going to get squishier."

Cho didn't look up from his paperwork. "Van Pelt's on it."

His eyes narrowed questioningly. "On what?"

"Lisbon's letting her pimp one of the SUVs. She's down in the garage changing the tires."

"Alone? Dude, why aren't you down there helping her?"

Cho shrugged. "New suit."

Rigsby jumped up and headed for the elevator. "Clown," he muttered to his friend.

"Lancelot." He barely heard him mutter back.

He got down to the parking lot level and followed the sound of a jack crank. He rounded the corner and found her, smudged, sweating and smiling happily as she propped the jack high enough and slotted the tire iron onto the first nut. Her jeans were already dirty and her jacket was over the hood. Her teeth gritted as she pulled back with all her strength, fighting against the tightness only made possible by a machine when the tires were first attached. She gave an adorable little yelp of surprise when the nut gave suddenly and knocked her on her ass.

She quickly picked herself up and he gaffawed loudly. She spun around, her eyes wide with panic that someone had seen her little spill. They softened when she saw him.

He grinned. "Doesn't it suck when someone sees you fall? You think you're getting away clean, no reason to be embarrassed, but then bam! Turn around and there's that guy you like. And he saw it all."

She was wiping her hands on her thighs, biting her lower lip in embarrassment. "I can only hope that he's classy about it and doesn't draw any attention to my lack of poise." She gave him a pointed look.

Still chuckling, he walked up and tossed his own jacket on top of hers on the hood. "How can I help?"

She gestured down. "We need to jack all four tires. Snow tires replacing the front ones, chains on the back. That should get us into the foothills."

He shook his head in wonder. "And you were going to do all that yourself?"

She looked him over with playful skepticism. "I still might. They've sent me a Californian to help."

He growled, looking around quickly before snatching her up and squeezing her tight. She clapped her hand over her mouth to quell her giggles before hissing, "Let go! We're at work."

He pressed her up against the SUV, resisting the urge to wipe away the smudge of grease from her cheek. "I'm pretty damn handy, missy. Lest you forget."

She lurched forward, pressing into him as well as rejecting his entrapment of her. "Please. Six inches of snow and suddenly Sacramento is cancelled." Her eyes sparked, daring him to disagree. "What possible use are you to me, Surf City?"

He snorted and leaned down into her space. "Changing a tire isn't figure skating, baby. Californians don't need snow to know our way around a tire iron."

She smirked, letting her eyes wander down his body as it strained against his suit. Wanting to keep him on his toes, she gently reached up and tugged at his tie. He flinched a bit. She only tugged at his tie when she wanted to undress him. His body, conditioned to that fact, responded and immediately heated up.

He grabbed her hands. "Bad girl," he whispered low.

She continued to work the knot under his fingers, giving him an innocent look. "You're not going to change tires in your nice, clean shirt, are you? You'll get all…" she slid it loose and threw it over her shoulder, "…dirty."

Watching her grin like the Devil herself as she went to work on his buttons made him think very bad, unprofessional thoughts. Namely, tie her hands up with his tie, toss her in the back of their suddenly very convenient SUV, and do things to her that would wobble the car right off that jack.

She finished unbuttoning him and pulled his shirt open. "Off."

He shouldered out of it and tossed it on the hood. They both stood in their t-shirts. The chill in the air was giving them both goosebumps. Another reason to take this inside the nice, warm car. She dragged her finger slowly up his bare, bump-covered arm, giving him one of her patented come-hither appraisals through her lashes. He was ready to move in those last two inches and damn whatever happened next and who might see, but the freezing cross of the tire iron magically appeared between them and shoved into his chest.

She smiled benignly. "I'll be upstairs with a mug of hot chocolate. Lemme know when you're done."