So I love some of the interns and always wonder what they think of our favorite dynamic duo.
This is meant to be a really light, short fic, so if that's not your thing, turn away now:)
Interns that (I do not own, by the way, property of FOX) are featured in this story:
Fischer, Wendell, Daisy, Vincent Nigel-Murray and Clark.
"Love is not real, my friend." Fischer patted the young Englishman on the shoulder.
Vincent ignored him and glanced down at his phone once again, checking for messages, a call that he may have missed (even though the ringer was turned up to seven and he'd had the thing in his hand the whole day) or anything that may promise signs of life.
"Perhaps I should call her again…?" He asked aloud.
"No!" Daisy, Wendell and Fischer hissed simultaneously for what seemed to be the millionth time that day. Vincent sighed and shoved his blackberry into the pocket of his lab coat once more.
Not five minutes had gone by before he reached for it again.
"Give it up buddy, Like I said, love is not real. It is only anger turned inside out." Fischer tried again, setting a clavicle down gently on one of the metal tables.
"I thought that was fear. Isn't that what they always say, that anger is just fear turned inside out. It's something like that. And anyway, love is real, Fischer!" Daisy spouted, replacing a box of remains on one of the hundreds of shelves that ran along the walls of Limbo.
The Eeyore-like man let out a heavy, melodramatic sigh followed by,
"Do you have any proof of this theory?"
Daisy scrunched her nose up in thought, tilting her head to the side.
"Me and Lancelot-"
"Oh, dear God here we go again." Clark muttered from his table at the other end of the vast room.
"I don't think that counts." Wendell commented, he himself not particularly interested in Ms. Wick's love life with the big toothed psychologist.
Daisy pouted out her lip,
"Why not?" She asked.
Wendell set down the fibula he'd been examining and walked over to the group of his fellow interns.
"Because he's a psychologist, he knows the human mind and how to get along with anyone. He knows how to make a relationship work," Mr. Bray started, his Chicago accent slight on his words, "And you're…." Daisy looked at him expectantly.
"Extremely optimistic and also open to making a relationship work." Vincent cut in, keeping Wendell from saying something he ought not.
"So, any other examples of 'love' in the works?" Fischer asked, setting down a phalange and officially joining the conversation.
Daisy wrinkled up her nose again, deep in thought.
"Did you know that-" Vincent began, trying to cure the awkward silence (and to distract himself from pulling out his phone again). Fischer held up a hand to stop him and asked again, with the slightest of slight flicker of triumph in his monotonous voice,
"Well, Daisy?" The perky girls face became unpinched and her eyes lit up like a match dropping into a pool of gasoline.
"Does it count if they're not technically a couple?" She asked, lowering her voice. Wendell shrugged and Vincent nodded.
"What do you guys think about Dr. Brennan and-" She was cut off by the sound of heels clicking against the tile floor.
"Ms. Wick, Mr. Bray, Mr. Nigel-Murray, Mr. Fischer and Mr. Edison, is your work complete?" She asked, apparently having not heard the conversation she'd walked in on. Before the good Dr. could look up, Daisy was in front of her face, a folder held firmly in her outstretched hand.
"Yes, Dr. Brennan." She smiled. Fischer rolled his eyes at the hyperactive girl, but regained his composure as he handed his boss the manila file he'd been scribbling into. Clark, Wendell and Vincent followed suit at roughly the same time and Dr. Brennan nodded in appreciation as she left Limbo, cradling their stack of reports in her arms.
As soon as she was out of earshot the unusually giddy interns (minus, or course, Fischer), all huddled yet again into a group surrounding Daisy's lab table.
"Dr. Brennan and who?" Vincent asked, forgetting, temporarily, about the Blackberry that yearned to leave his pocket.
Daisy glanced around quickly to see that no one else was there and found nothing but wall upon wall of bones and Clark Edison busy at work, trying, no doubt to block out the conversation that was taking place.
A surprisingly almost naughty smile passed over her face as she whispered,
"Agent. Booth." It was quiet for a second as they all took it in.
"It took you five minutes to come up with that?" Wendell asked immediately.
"Actually, it was more like two and half." Vincent quipped. Fischer shook his head.
"I don't buy it."
The three other grad students gave him quizzical stares as if to say, 'seriously?'
"Why not?" Daisy asked, more than a little disappointed. Fischer scratched the side of his head, his scruffy hair tangling around his long, thin fingers.
"Well, I mean. You've seen her, she's hot." He indicated Dr. Brennan as he leaned over the table on his elbows, "I mean obviously Agent Booth doesn't like her, or else he'd have been in her pants by now." Vincent took in one of his signature 'I'm-about-to-explain-something' breaths.
"As far as I can tell, Agent Booth is a chivalrous man, perhaps he's just being respectful…?" His words died down into what seemed to be almost a question.
"I don't know, Eeyore might be onto something. I mean, Booth's a real nice guy, but if he sees somethin' he likes, he goes after her." Wendell argued, on the verge of understanding what Fischer meant.
"Yeah, and wouldn't Sweets have said something by now?" Vincent said slowly, joining Fischer and Wendell's side of the debate.
"What do you mean?" Daisy asked, tilting her head to the side out of curiosity.
"I mean, wouldn't Dr. Sweets have said something to them-or to anyone- about them?" He asked her. Daisy's face fell.
"You know, you're right. Lancelot talks to me about his work all the time, but he never says anything about them." It was silent for a second as the four interns put all the pieces together. Finally, Daisy shrugged.
"I guess you're right, Fischer, they don't like each other like that. Gee, now I feel really stupid. I must've been making all that sexual tension up because I wanted them to be together." She sighed at the perfect 'romance novel-esq' love story they could have.
"Yeah. I mean, if they aren't together now, they probably never will be." Wendell agreed.
"I suppose they're merely colleagues." Vincent added. Suddenly, from behind them the voice of Clark Edison broke through the air.
"Seriously? Do you even hear yourselves?" He asked as if they had come up with the most ridiculous theory on Earth (and in a way, they had).
Wendell, Fischer, Daisy and Vincent just looked at him, taken slightly aback by his sudden outburst.
"Of course they're not merely colleagues! We are merely colleagues." Clark reasoned.
"But we all hardly tolerate each other." Mr. Nigel-Murray piped in. The three other interns nodded in agreement, they worked together, but they didn't necessarily enjoy it.
"Exactly. 'Merely Colleagues'," Clark finger quoted, "don't bring each other Thai food takeout at three in the morning when they're slumped over their desk, still working on case reports. 'Merely Colleague's faces don't light up when their partner walks onto the platform. 'Merely Colleagues' don't unintentionally flirt with each other-"
"Actually, I beg to differ." Daisy cut him off, turning slightly to Vincent.
"Sorry, Vinny, I'm just saying it kind of creeps me out. I'm not a big fan of pick up lines being in the form of interesting facts." She mumbled to him. Clark was deathly close to rolling his eyes, but continued anyway,
"Case and point, they are not just normal colleagues. They are not just, 'Special Agent Booth' and 'Dr. Temperance Brennan', They are two sexual frustrated, good looking people in close proximity who just want to-"
Clark swallowed the words in his throat as he glanced toward the door.
Dr. Brennan's hands were on her hips, Booth's arms folded across his chest, both with stern looks adorning their faces.
And there it was. Didn't turn out EXACTLY as I'd imagined it, but close enough.
Review if you feel like you want to,
Angela (while Booth and Sully are arguing about Brennan): Testosterone spill on isle four.