A/N: Trying my hand at a Regular Show story. I've been really into it lately. It's so cute and funny. Anyhow, this is mostly just fluff, and there is some of what could be seen as Mordecai/Rigby, but you can also read it as them just being friendly (albeit really close friends) if you'd rather. Enjoy, and remember, I'm all up for constructive criticism. And if there are any typos, please let me know so I can fix them. I'd really appreciate that. Enjoy!

Calm Down, Dude:

The clouds that were fairly gray a moment ago were already becoming black and looming ominously over the park. In the distance, blue veins scattered out from the clouds that were rolling ever closer. The rain had already begun as the caretakers hurried to prepare the park for the incoming thunderstorm, and by the time they retired to the house, the drops had grown to an enormous size, and lightning was striking at close intervals.

"See you later, losers!" Muscle Man called out before doing a donut and speeding away with High Five Ghost by his side.

"Alright, let's go inside," Mordecai suggested, covering his head with his wings, a little vexed by Muscle Man. Rigby was already booking it for the house.

Inside, the two sat on the couch while the TV played commercials. Mordecai slouched with his feet on the coffee table while Rigby sat straight and stiff.

"It's pretty sweet that we don't have to work," Mordecai noted.

"Yeah great," Rigby replied shortly.

"What's your problem?" Mordecai asked, a little irritated, but when Rigby didn't reply and merely stared out the window, he realized what was going on. "Oh yeeah," he said, "you're afraid of thunder, aren't you?"

"No I'm not," Rigby denied. "I'd just rather it not be storming. That's all."

"Oh really?" Mordecai asked in disbelief.

"Yeah. So we wouldn't have to be stuck in this boring place all day."

"Dude," Mordecai said, "you wouldn't even be doing anything if we could be outside right now."

"Well I like having the option," Rigby stated matter-of-factly. "How about that?"

The storm was getting harder by the second, but Rigby was determined to prove that he wasn't afraid. Still, he couldn't help but shake from sharp chills as he peaked out the window, and the constant fluctuations of the lights weren't helping at all. Suddenly, the power cut off, the television buzzing loudly as it blanked, only for everything to flick back on brighter than before.

"It's getting worse," Mordecai noted, then with a cheeky smirk, he looked to Rigby and asked, "Think you can handle it?"

Rigby sputtered and crossed his arms. "Yeah, I can handle it. Can you handle it?"

Mordecai rolled his eyes and returned his attention to the television. "Just wait and see if you're still talking tough when it gets closer."

"Hm, hm," Rigby nodded competitively, but a sudden loud crash of thunder sent him diving into the couch with a wail.

Mordecai howled with laughter, kicking his leg up from the table. "I knew it. I knew you were scared. You're such a baby."

"Stop talking!" Rigby shook, standing up on the couch.

"Whatever," Mordecai said. "Just don't pee your pants when the power goes out."

Rigby gripped the armrest and gazed out the window with wide and worried eyes. He prayed that the power wouldn't go out, but as if Mordecai had commanded it, off it went. The room went pitch black, eyes widening as the pupils rushed to dilate. "Mordecai?" Rigby squeaked.

The slamming of the back door and Benson's frustrated growl flooding in from the kitchen caused a jump from Rigby. A moment later, two flashlight beams slid into the living room as Benson and Skips walked in.

"Mordecai. Rigby. You in here?" Benson called.

"Yeah," Mordecai replied, standing up and walking to the other two. "How far do you think this blackout reaches?"

Before anyone could make a guess, Pops descended the stairs with a single white candle in a holder in hand.

"Ooh. The power went out all over town," he said as joyously as ever.

"All over town?" Rigby asked, rushing to the group.

"Yes. I saw it from my window. Or rather, didn't see to be more accurate."

"Oh great," Rigby moaned. "How long do you think this is gonna last?"

"Dude, you are so scared," Mordecai teased.

"At any rate," Benson cut in, a bright flash of blue lighting up the windows for a second, "there's no way we're going out in this weather, and I'm definitely not driving in it, so I guess," he spoke the next part with dread, "we're all staying here tonight."

A loud, drawn out boom shook the foundation of the house, some smaller crackles lingering at the end of the initial eruption. Rigby all but crumbled into himself, whimpering once more at the uncontrolled energy that sent chills through him.

Pops sat his candle on the coffee table and laughed. "Good show!" he cheered, placing his hands on his cheeks.

"See, Rigby? Pops isn't scared. Are you Pops?"

"Well no," Pops replied before cracking a smile. "I love thunderstorms. They're fun!"

"Wait," Benson said, "Rigby's afraid of thunderstorms?" He laughed. "That's the saddest thing I've ever heard."

"I'm not afraid of thunderstorms!" Rigby defended.

"I know, right?" Mordecai laughed, ignoring the ruffled raccoon. "It's so pathetic. It's like, who's afraid of thunderstorms anymore?"

"Shut up!"

"If it bothers you, you should try blocking it out with music," Skips suggested. "Something with a steady beat might calm you down."

"I said I'm not afraid!" he exclaimed.

"We can't listen to music with the power out anyhow. Our tape deck doesn't use batteries," Mordecai stated.

Skips shrugged. "Just a suggestion."

At that moment, the flashlight in Benson's hand blinked out. He flipped the switch back and forth and smacked it against his palm uselessly before sighing roughly. "We need some candles down here. Mordecai and Rigby, there should be some candles in that box on the top shelf of your closet. Go get 'em, would you?"

"No problem," Mordecai agreed.

Rigby shot at his friend, "What? No! I'm not goin' up there!"

"Oh come on," Mordecai said. "It'll be real quick. And then we'll have light, and you won't have to be so scared all the time. And besides, I can't see a thing when it's this dark."

Rigby growled. "Fine."

The two ascended the stairs into the black hall above. Rigby held Skips's flashlight close to himself, gripping it with both hands like the hilt of a sword. He turned quickly and jumpily to cover the area. Outside, the wind blew hard against the house, pelting it with thick raindrops like bullets against the old wood. Rigby groaned, feeling as though the whole upper story might fly off.

"C'mon. Quit messing around," Mordecai said, snatching the flashlight from Rigby who reached out for it again with a noise of disapproval. Mordecai forced him back by putting his hand on his face before moving toward their room. He opened the door and instinctively flipped the light switch. He looked to Rigby with an awkward grin and said, "The power's still out."

Rigby huffed unamused before pouncing across the floor to the nearby closet. "Let's just get the candles; get some light up in here."

Mordecai shined the light up to the box on the closet's shelf, and Rigby stood on tiptoes, stretching his body audibly to no avail. Finally, Mordecai sighed and clunked the flashlight on Rigby's head. "Here. Take the light."

"Ow," Rigby whined, taking hold of the flashlight and shining it up. "Okay fine. Just hurry up." The wind howled loudly and the wood creaked, and something was either hitting the roof or the shingles were being blown off. Either way, it seemed like the roof was just begging to be destroyed.

Mordecai pulled the box down and dropped it to the floor, and he and Rigby dropped to their knees to peer inside.

"Caaandles!" Mordecai whooped.

"Alright, that's great," Rigby said, standing and rubbing his crossed arms. "Now can we just take them downstairs?"

Mordecai frowned at his friend's refusal to join his celebration. "Fine," he complied, picking up the box and heading out the room.

The two descended the stairs to see Skips and Benson donning yellow and blue ponchos respectively.

"What's with the ponchos?" Mordecai asked, setting the box on the floor for Rigby and Pops to rummage through.

Benson took the flashlight from Rigby. "We're going to get Muscle Man and High Five Ghost. They shouldn't be staying in that trailer with the weather this bad."

Pops pulled out two scented candles and held them to his face. "Oh, good idea. It'll be a stormy night slumber party. Oh, I just love those!" He giggled loudly.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever. Can we just light these?" Rigby asked, flicking a bothersome lighter over and over again. "Ow!" he yelped, dropping the item that burnt his hand.

Benson threw his hood up and headed for the door. "We'll be back soon. I guarantee there's gonna be a ton of trees. A ton of fallen trees! Just wait. In the morning, we'll have to chop up like five fallen trees," Benson rambled as they walked out the door. Skips rolled his eyes, throwing up his hood and closing the door behind them.

"Pfft. Did you see Benson," Mordecai laughed. "He looked like a total rod." He looked back to see Rigby sitting on the couch again with his arms crossed and a sour expression on his face. "Dude," Mordecai said, moving to sit beside him, "what's your problem? You've been in a sucky mood this whole time. Blackouts are supposed to be exciting. Or else you get way too bored without video games."

Rigby growled. "I just want this stupid storm to be over!" A sudden deafening, crackling boom rattled the house, surprising that it didn't break a window. Rigby whined. "How can anyone enjoy this?" he cried.

On his knees at the coffee table, Pops laughed jovially as he waved his hands above four mismatched candles, casting shadows on the ceiling. Rigby stood up and threw his arms in the air. "I really wish the power would come back on already!" he yelled as if to give a command. In objection, another loud boom sounded in the air. Rigby yelped and dove into the couch, convulsing as the drawn out boom subsided into unnerving rumbles. "I hate this," he cried into the couch.

Mordecai sighed. "Get over it already. Okay? Your whining might've been amusing at first, but now it's just annoying."

Rigby jumped up and pointed fiercely. "You're just a jerk! Just leave me alone about it!"

Another thunder burst sent Rigby sinking into himself again, and while Mordecai was ready to insult away at his previous comment, his attention was grabbed by Rigby's frightened expression. His eyes were as wide as saucers, his pupils nearly engulfing the entirety of them. His tail was curled down and his body trembled lightly despite his obvious attempt to restrain it as noted by his clenched fists. Mordecai's brow screwed up and his heart strings were tugged as Rigby's sad expressions could do sometimes.

"Rigby," Mordecai said pitifully.

A lightning flash exploded almost simultaneously with its thunder burst, and Rigby jumped, clinging onto Mordecai's arms.

"You wanna listen to music?" Mordecai asked.

Rigby threw Mordecai's arms away and turned around. "We don't have a battery powered tape deck, remember?" he said, irritated. He looked out the window at the whirling weather, and his stomach churned.

"It doesn't look like it's getting any better," Mordecai noted, realizing right away that that was not something Rigby wanted to hear. Mordecai stood up and grabbed hold of Rigby's upper arm. "Come here," he commanded, pulling his friend off the couch.

"Hey, what're you doing? Let go!" Rigby protested, being pulled to his feet on the floor and Mordecai overpowering him as he pushed him toward the wall.

"You're going to look out at the lightning until it doesn't bother you anymore," Mordecai said, pushing Rigby to the window. "You're gonna listen to every thunder burst and watch every lightning strike."

"What? No!" Rigby protested, trying to pull away.

"It'll be just like that stupid Ello Gov'nor movie."

"But that didn't work either. Stop!"

Mordecai shoved Rigby against the window, then grabbed his shoulders from behind and held him straight. He whimpered at the distant flashes and strands of lightning, not too fond of the constant rumble either. Suddenly, a closer strike flashed blindingly, followed by an all too close thunder clap. Rigby shrieked and tried to tear away, throwing himself around in Mordecai's grasp. He tore one arm free, but before he could free himself completely, Mordecai threw his arm over Rigby's shoulder to hold him back by his chest.

"Let me go! Get away from the window! That was way too close! That was right in the yard!"

"It wasn't in the yard," Mordecai explained. "Your eyes are just playing tricks on you."

At that moment, Mordecai felt the rapid palpitations against his hand. Rigby's heart pounded so hard and fast if felt as though it might explode. It seemed unhealthy for a creature so small to have such a tiny organ working so hard.

"Dude, your heart is pounding. Calm down."

"I would if you'd let me get away from this stupid window!" Rigby exclaimed.

Mordecai pulled Rigby against himself and pressed down on his chest as if that would control the throbs.

"Mordecai?"

Mordecai held his free hand to his own heart. It beat much calmer than Rigby's – soft and steady.

"Listen," Mordecai said, pulling Rigby's head against his chest.

"Noo," Rigby complained, trying to pull away. Mordecai wrapped his arm around Rigby to keep him still.

"Seriously, dude. Just listen."

Rigby slackened, opening his attention to the sound against his ear. Mordecai was right. His heartbeat was so calm in comparison. Rigby was a little jealous, wishing he could be so collected during such chaotic times. He decided it was nice, listening to the steady pacing of Mordecai's heart. The two dropped to the floor, and Rigby went limp against his friend, the continual, "ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum," trailing across his brain. Somehow, hearing the pumps of a tiny heart made him realize how fragile even Mordecai really was. Another crack of thunder sounded, but Rigby barely noticed.

Mordecai looked down at the small raccoon on his chest. His eyes were wide, but in wonder rather than fear. Mordecai had kept his hand over Rigby's chest, and his heart was still beating faster than normal, but it was slowly steadying. He lay back until he was lying on the floor with Rigby still held firmly against his chest. The storm was still howling, but neither minded. For a while, the two stayed like that, and soon, Rigby's body was as calm as before the storm. Mordecai craned his neck to look at him, his eyes closed and breaths deep. Now, Mordecai's eyes grew heavy, too.

Some time had past when the front door was thrown open and Muscle Man's loud whooping crashed into the room. "No showering during thunderstorms, babies. Whoo!" he yelled, pulling off his sopping jacket and shirt and spinning them above his head, High Five Ghost floating by with his ever happy expression.

Mordecai and Rigby snapped open their eyes, and realizing where they were, pulled away from each other in mock disgust. Skips and Benson dropped their dripping ponchos by the door, Benson looking as irritable as ever. Pops entered the room from the kitchen.

"Oh actually," he said, crossing the room to the light switch, "the power came back on not ten minutes ago." He flipped the switch and Mordecai and Rigby shielded their unprepared eyes with tired groans.

"Then why were you sitting in the dark?" Muscle Man asked.

"Oh, well, Mordecai and Rigby fell asleep, and they looked so comfortable, I just had to shut off the lights," Pops explained.

"On the floor?" Skips asked. Mordecai and Rigby rose to their feet with shared little blushes.

"It woulda been nice if some of the street lights came back on," Benson complained, lowering himself onto the couch. "It's still crazy out there."

"Well we're here now," Muscle Man said, slamming a cassette into the tape deck. "So let's hook it up!"

"Yea-yuh! We got sodas in the fridge," Mordecai said, happily heading for the kitchen, music blasting loudly as Pops, Muscle Man, and High Five Ghost danced absurdly in the middle of the room.

Rigby snuck a peak out the window, still uneasy about the weather, but he figured he'd be okay if he focused his attention on the lively, party-like atmosphere.

"So did it help?" Skips asked, sitting on the couch nearby.

"They just turned it on," Rigby explained in confusion. "How could..."

Skips gave a small, knowing smirk, to which Rigby could only respond with a tiny "o" on his mouth.

"Who's gonna drink these sodas?" Mordecai called as he reentered the room with cans in hand.

Rigby smiled and made his way over. "Oh yeah! Soda! Give me some o' that!" he exclaimed, taking a can in hand and sharing a combined "OOOOH!"

The party lasted well into the night, and Mordecai fell fast asleep. Rigby on the other hand, and despite the recent excitement, was now lying uneasily on his trampoline. The lightening was still flashing wildly out the window, and while the thunder had become more distant, it still sounded loudly and unexpectedly. After one such blast, Rigby snapped his eyes to the bed on the other side of the room. Quickly yet quietly, he darted to the bed, crawling on top and stepping softly over Mordecai.

Mordecai's eyes cracked open when he felt Rigby drop his head on his chest. He lifted his heavy arm and dropped it over Rigby's other ear, a small smile pulling on his beak as he fell back asleep. Soon too, Rigby drifted off to the sound of Mordecai's steady, "ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum."