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Title: Just Dropping In
Fandom: Numb3rs, CSI:NY
Characters: Megan Reeves, Don Flack
Genre: Gen
Rating: PG
Warnings/Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: Fanfic, for fun, not profit.
Notes:I decided to take part in a Crack Crossover Drabblethon. Although I'm not sure what makes a crossover "cracky", I did like the prompt "Character 1 and Character 2 meet a compromising situation" It's not a drabble, really, as it's about 400 words. But hey, at least I wrote something.
It was everything Megan Reeves expected from a four star hotel in the heart of New York City: luxurious furniture, separate bedroom with a queen-sized bed, fireplaces in both rooms, excellent room service and a balcony with a gorgeous view of the New York skyline.
What she didn’t expect was the naked man who dropped onto her balcony from the floor above.
They stared at each other for a moment; then she dove for her gun sitting on the desk and he made a dash to stop her. She beat him by a second, whirling around with the gun in her hand. He froze three feet in front of her. He was remarkably calm for someone with no clothes and a gun pointed at him.
“I’m a cop.” He stood hands raised slightly, blue eyes locked on the .45.
She laughed. “I can tell by the uniform.”
Loud pounding and running footsteps came from the floor above. “NYPD” and “Don’t move” echoed down through the open balcony door.
Megan kept her gun leveled at the intruder and he, wisely, didn’t move. She didn’t want to stare, but she had to keep her eyes on him. He appeared relaxed, but she could read tension in every muscle in his body. Muscles she was trying hard not to stare at. She willed her eyes back to his face, noticing the slight blush that colored his cheeks as she did so.
“Hey, Flack!” A voice rang down from the balcony above. “You down there, buddy?”
Megan answered before the man standing in front of her could. “My name is Megan Reeves, FBI. Could you tell me who you are looking for, please?”
There was a very obvious pause, then, “Yeah. Detective Donald Flack.” Amusement was evident in the voice. “He’s ‘bout 6’2”, dark hair, reasonably good-looking.” Another pause. “He wouldn’t be wearing any clothes.”
A twitching cheek muscle was the only sign of Flack’s discomfort and Megan decided to take pity on him. She lowered her weapon and crossed to the balcony to answer. “He’s down here.”
When she turned back, Flack had pulled the cloth off the room-service cart and wrapped it around himself. He hadn't even spilt the glass of water she had left there.
“I think I’ll be going,” he said as he headed to the door.
“Wait,” Megan said. “They're going to charge me extra for that.” She gestured to the tablecloth he was wearing.
Flack gave her a crooked grin. “I could bring it back tomorrow.”
Megan smiled, too. “I look forward to it.”
Fandom: Numb3rs, CSI:NY
Characters: Megan Reeves, Don Flack
Genre: Gen
Rating: PG
Warnings/Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: Fanfic, for fun, not profit.
Notes:I decided to take part in a Crack Crossover Drabblethon. Although I'm not sure what makes a crossover "cracky", I did like the prompt "Character 1 and Character 2 meet a compromising situation" It's not a drabble, really, as it's about 400 words. But hey, at least I wrote something.
It was everything Megan Reeves expected from a four star hotel in the heart of New York City: luxurious furniture, separate bedroom with a queen-sized bed, fireplaces in both rooms, excellent room service and a balcony with a gorgeous view of the New York skyline.
What she didn’t expect was the naked man who dropped onto her balcony from the floor above.
They stared at each other for a moment; then she dove for her gun sitting on the desk and he made a dash to stop her. She beat him by a second, whirling around with the gun in her hand. He froze three feet in front of her. He was remarkably calm for someone with no clothes and a gun pointed at him.
“I’m a cop.” He stood hands raised slightly, blue eyes locked on the .45.
She laughed. “I can tell by the uniform.”
Loud pounding and running footsteps came from the floor above. “NYPD” and “Don’t move” echoed down through the open balcony door.
Megan kept her gun leveled at the intruder and he, wisely, didn’t move. She didn’t want to stare, but she had to keep her eyes on him. He appeared relaxed, but she could read tension in every muscle in his body. Muscles she was trying hard not to stare at. She willed her eyes back to his face, noticing the slight blush that colored his cheeks as she did so.
“Hey, Flack!” A voice rang down from the balcony above. “You down there, buddy?”
Megan answered before the man standing in front of her could. “My name is Megan Reeves, FBI. Could you tell me who you are looking for, please?”
There was a very obvious pause, then, “Yeah. Detective Donald Flack.” Amusement was evident in the voice. “He’s ‘bout 6’2”, dark hair, reasonably good-looking.” Another pause. “He wouldn’t be wearing any clothes.”
A twitching cheek muscle was the only sign of Flack’s discomfort and Megan decided to take pity on him. She lowered her weapon and crossed to the balcony to answer. “He’s down here.”
When she turned back, Flack had pulled the cloth off the room-service cart and wrapped it around himself. He hadn't even spilt the glass of water she had left there.
“I think I’ll be going,” he said as he headed to the door.
“Wait,” Megan said. “They're going to charge me extra for that.” She gestured to the tablecloth he was wearing.
Flack gave her a crooked grin. “I could bring it back tomorrow.”
Megan smiled, too. “I look forward to it.”
