Some comical nonsense I wrote while I was waiting for my cousin to wake up and get the hell out of my bed. I thought, "What if the team found out about fanfiction?" This is what I came up with. I had originally planned on making it end differently, but I like it the way it is, so there. Hopefully you like it, too.
Disclaimer: I'm just borrowing.
"Angela, what are you doing right now?"
Sweets felt much like a ninja, sneaking around the Jeffersonian. He'd done his best to pass Dr Saroyan without her noticing, wanting to avoid any questions about why he was in the lab when he shouldn't be. Hodgins sent him an odd look, but he did not stop to chat. He headed straight for Angela's office, thinking her the best person to talk with about this. The door had already been cracked open, and he wasted no time slipping his skinny self right in without making a sound. Until now.
The artist jumped almost ten feet at the sudden intrusion, almost dropping her notepad in the process. She turned to him, and frowned, a hand over her racing heart. "Jesus, Sweets! Don't do that."
"Sorry," he apologized, hardly sounding at all like he meant it. "What are you doing?"
"I'm..." her voice trailed off for a second, narrowing her eyes at his edgy demeanor. "I was just about to input all the data so we can see what our victim looked like. Why?"
"How long is that going to take?" He asked, not bothering to answer her question.
"It shouldn't take that long," she confirmed. Angela was now more than suspicious. "Why? What are you up to?"
Sweets opened his mouth to ask her to finish up her work so they could talk, but backtracked. He frowned at her, a little miffed that she automatically thought he was up to no good. "Why do you assume I'm up to something?"
"Hello, you just went all ninja on me like two seconds ago. Remember that?"
Suddenly, Sweets' frown vanished and he was practically beaming with pride. "That was pretty ninja, wasn't it?"
Angela rolled her eyes, trying to stay on topic. "Seriously, Sweetie. What's going on?"
"There's something I got to show you," he said mysteriously.
The artist was instantly intrigued. She adjusted her hold on her notepad, and asked, "What kind of something?"
"Something," he answered, moving over towards the computer. "You'll see." He minimized any pages that were already up, his friend watching with growing curiosity, as he pulled up a new webpage.
Angela leaned in for a closer look. "Fanfiction dot net?"
"Yeah," Sweets answered, distracted. "Just wait."
She obediently complied, watching as the young psychologist opened a few different links. Suddenly, something interesting caught her eye. She squinted accusingly at the screen, unsure of what exactly she was seeing. "Bones Fanfiction?"
Sweets nodded seriously. "Check this out. This is all fanfiction written about us." He scrolled down, and Angela's eyes widened. "There are over twelve-thousand stories written here."
"Fanfiction?" She repeated, "What, you mean like, stories written by our fans?"
"Exactly," he nodded.
Baffled, she leaned in again and read some of the titles listed. "But...how is this even possible?"
"That's what I'd like to know," he told her. That had been the main reason he'd come to her in the first place, hoping she could possibly shed some light on the subject. He knew the team at the Jeffersonian had been quite known, but he had no idea it could have escalated to this level. He wasn't sure whether he liked it or not. "It was labeled under TV Shows."
"What does that mean?" She asked.
"I have no idea," he admitted.
Angela gave him a strange look, then turned her attention back to the screen. She read off one of the summaries, shaking her head at the things she did not understand. "What the hell is this site?"
"It's exactly what you said earlier," Sweets explained. "Fanfiction. Stories written by fans about things they like; movies, books, TV Shows, et cetera..."
"And what? People just write stuff and then post it here for everyone to see?"
"Okay. That's...cool. I think. But that doesn't explain why there is a 'Bones' section. Are all these just about Booth and Brennan?" She questioned, her eyes dancing wildly across the screen. She was somewhat excited to see that there appeared to be numerous avid B&B shippers out there, other than Sweets and herself.
"No, no. Look," Sweets scrolled down to the bottom of the page and clicked the character list. "We're all here."
"What?" Angela almost hollered, alarmed. "Even me?"
"Even me," he answered. They were both growing louder by the second. "All the interns. Daisy, Wendell...Even Jared."
"Are you serious?" Angela asked, setting her notepad beside them on the desk top, her work completely forgotten.
"Yeah, look. Caroline, Max, Parker, Rebecca, Zach. Even a D. Goodman, whoever that is."
"Goodman?" Angela yelled. Sweets could tell that she recognized the person, but he truly had no idea who they were. "Oh my God, I miss him."
Sweets was tempted to ask who she was talking about, but he felt there were more important things to discuss. "Yeah, that's nice. What about all these stories?"
"Very interesting," Angela responded. She pointed to Genre and asked,"What does that mean?"
"It's the type of story it is," he said, clicking on the list. "Hurt/Comfort, angst, humor..."
"And romance, supernatural, they got everything."
"Oh my God. This is insane, Sweets. How did you find this?"
"I was just browsing."
She turned to him, "You read fanfictions?"
"No, I was on Google." He clarified," It led me to here, and then I got curious, and one thing led to another and I saw Bones and I clicked on it. I didn't know what it was. I didn't know it was gonna be about us!"
"Right," she nodded, unconvinced. "This is so weird."
"Totally weird," he agreed. "How do you think these people write about us?"
"With their brains, Sweets. And with their hands."
He gave her an annoyed look, showing her that he was less amused than she was. She ignored him, pointing to one of the stories listed. "Oh my God, that one's in Spanish!"
"Yeah, people write about us from all over the world."
"I know!" He shouted, "Can you believe it?"
Angela turned to him and glared pointedly, "I just said 'unbelievable'."
"Whatever," Sweets mumbled. He rolled his eyes dismissively and motioned back to the computer. "The point is, people are writing about us. People who we don't know and have never met. Somehow, they seem to know everything about us."
"Stalkers?" Angela suggested, staring at the screen seriously.
"Could be, " he shrugged. "I mean, I don't know how else these people would know things about us. Look, everyone's been writing about Hannah." He turned to her, "Booth's Hannah. How do they know about her?
"Well, she's a journalist. Maybe they saw an article she wrote or something."
"You really think she'd write an article that said 'I just moved to DC to follow my boyfriend and now we're moving in together'?"
"Well, I don't know!" Angela defended, "I haven't met her yet."
Sweets shook his head. "I just don't understand it. How could they be doing this? It doesn't make any sense."
"Could they be getting information from a source, maybe?" She wondered, peeking over his shoulder. "Oh, click on that one."
The psychologist sighed, doing as he was told. He thought her theory over, ready to believe just about anything. "I won't say it isn't possible. I mean, if this is going on then the information must be coming from somewhere. I'm pretty sure our life stories aren't being broadcast on worldwide television or anything. Right?"
The two turned to face eachother unsurely. Angela shook her head, wanting to deny that possibility but failed to look convincing. They had been listed under TV Shows, after all. By the looks of it, they were both realizing that. "No, of course not. That's...that's ridiculous."
"Yeah. Ridiculous. Unless," he paused for a moment, to think of the possibilities. "unless there are hidden cameras around here, somewhere?"
"What, and we're stars of our very own reality show?" Angela asked, skeptical.
"Well, you don't know! All these random people know everything about us. I wouldn't be surprised if there was some kind of government leak. Maybe that's where they're getting their information." He suggested, skimming through the first chapter of the story he'd clicked on.
Angela, who was doing the same as him, shook her head. "You sound like Hodgins."
Sweets could not help but be a little paranoid. He found the prospect of strangers writing stories about him and his friends uncomfortable, and he felt a tad exposed, unsure of how much and what exactly they knew about him. He would hate it if one of his friends found a story about him, revealing the painful past he'd tried to keep behind him for so long. Someone could easily invade his privacy with the click of a mouse. How could he ever feel safe again?
"Look, Booth told Brennan that he loves her." Angela said, bringing Sweets out of his reverie. She smacked his arm and he verted his eyes back to the screen. "He even called her baby. Do you think that really happened?"
"Um," Sweets cleared his throat. "I don't know. I don't think so. The summary said this is what the author wish would've happened 'that night'. Whatever that means." Suddenly, his brain had an idea. He looked away, talking more to himself than to his friend. "Maybe they're referring to the night when Booth gambled?"
"When Booth what?" Angela questioned, confused.
"Oh, nothing. He lost anyway. I think this is just made up stuff."
"Well, they are very in character," the artist confessed. "But...oh my God, they got naked."
"What?" Sweets yelped, returning his attention to the story. "Where are you? I lost it."
"Right there," Angela pointed out. "They're having sex. Very detailed sex. Oh! Awkward. Awkward. Very awkward!"
"What's awkward?" A new voice suddenly asked. Angela and Sweets both jumped twice as high as she had when he'd first arrived in her office. Cam raised her eyebrows, alarmed at their jumpy behavior. Sweets practically fell out of his chair. Angela accidently knocked her notepad to the floor with a clatter. The three of them stared at eachother, two of them flushed and one of them beyond confused. "What's...going on?"
"Nothing!" The two of them sputtered, sounding like embarassed teenagers who'd been caught looking at something inappropriate. Sweets swiveled around in his chair and quickly minimized the webpage, unsure of what Cam would say if she found out what they had been reading. When the task was done, he turned back to face the pathologist with an overly-innocent face.
Cam was hardly convinced. "Okay. You both look incredibly guilty," she announced, clutching her clipboard tightly. "Should I even be asking?"
Sweets and Angela shared a blank look, debating whether or not they should let her know of their finding. Cam watched as they had a silent conversation. They both felt she had every right to know, being that she was featured in the stories as well, and decided not to keep her in the dark. Perhaps she could give them some much needed information.
"Show her, Sweets." Angela exhaled.
Cam, confused as ever, approached the computer just as the psychologist brought up the webpage. She squinted her eyes at the screen, eyes running over the words suspiciously. Once she was finished reading the paragraph, she took a step back, and faced Angela and Sweets, who had been watching her intently. Cam was not sure if they had written the story themselves, but she found herself extremely disappointed anyway.
"What the hell is that?"
"We didn't write it!" Sweets cried.
"Doesn't matter. That's...disgusting. Why are you even reading that stuff?"
"Look, Cam, there's something seriously creepy going on here..." Angela tried.
"I'll say!" The pathologist interrupted. "You two reading about Booth and Brennan...having...While you guys are supposed to be working? You're not even supposed to be here," she scolded, turning to Sweets. The psychologist seemed to shrink in his seat, wondering if sharing his discovery had even been a good idea in the first place.
"I know. We're really sorry, Cam." Angela apologized, "But you have to let us explain..."
"I don't want an explanation, Ms Montenegro." Cam said, "It's obvious you and Dr Sweets both get a thrill from divulging into other people's private lives. But I think you're really crossing a line here. You want to look at things like that, then you do that on your own time. Not at work, not where other people can see what you're doing."
"No," the pathologist held up a hand. "Enough. Seriously. Turn that computer off if you're not gonna do your work."
"But we didn't even write it," Sweets countered. "That's what we're trying to tell you."
"I don't care who wrote it, Sweets." Cam snapped, "Whoever wrote that has some serious problems, but you guys actually reading that? It's sick. Booth and Dr Brennan are supposed to be your friends."
"They are our friends!" The psychologist responded.
"Yeah," Angela nodded. "We're just trying to protect them."
"I'm afraid I don't understand. Nor am I sure I want to understand." Cam shook her head with a sigh. What had her team become? "But I don't care what your reasons are. Just...please, put that little story away and get back to work." She turned back to Sweets and told him, "And I want you out of Angela's office."
"In fact, you should go back to the Hoover. I don't know what you're even doing here, anyway."
Sweets looked like a deer caught in the headlights of an eighteen-wheeler. He and Angela had just made a huge discovery, and they could not even share it without being yelled at? Perhaps not spilling the beans would be the best, after all, he thought. Regardless, they would have to finish discussing their plans later. Cam did not look happy, and she surely did not look very patient.
"But-" Just in case he could save his own skin, he tried. And failed.
"Now, Dr Sweets. Get gone."
The psychologist groaned, feeling much like a teenager in a highschool classroom. He'd always been one of the teacher's favorites, but right now he felt like the class-clown who spent more time in the principal's office overthinking his behaviour rather than learning about fractions. Angela shot him a sympathetic look, one that clearly said 'Sorry you got in trouble, we'll talk later.' Without another word, Sweets left the office.
Cam turned to Angela, who quickly grabbed her notepad and exited the office, as well, despite her work actually being right where she already was. "I'll get back to work, too."
"That's a good idea," Cam nodded. Once Angela had fled her office, more than likely to find Hodgins, the pathologist turned her attention back to the computer. She scrolled down to the bottom of the page, looked around to make sure that no-one was watching, then favorited the story.
"I'll have to read this one later," she mumbled to herself, as she inputted her login as quickly as possible. "Right after I finish reading the one where Booth and Brennan go under-cover as a married couple..."