Well, people. I may regret posting this silly little fic. In fact, I'm pretty sure I will. But this is me trying new things and working on my fear of taking risks. Ever since I read "priestessofwords'"story where the team teaches Callen about Facebook, this has been stuck in my brain. It got me to thinking about what would happen if the team discovered us, the fan fiction people who love to read and write about them. I just needed to get this out of my head so I could move on to thinking about maybe coming up with another H/C story (my first love.)
I suppose it is obvious from my previous ramblings, but I don't own NCIS: LA or any of its characters.
Special Note: I started off with this story noting no particular characters. But I was made aware that I do tend to favor a certain partnership. (I'll admit it. I really, really do.) Even though it involves all of the team, I recently changed the story to Callen/Sam.
Discovering Fan Fiction
It was one of those rare evenings at the Office of Special Projects in Los Angeles. The building was quiet, the atmosphere calm. The past few days had been uneventful; there were no new cases and everyone was caught up on their paperwork (except for Callen who seemed to always have a stack of unfinished work.) Kensi sat at her desk playing a game on her computer. Deeks was seated next to her checking his Facebook account. Sam was searching websites for ideas for his next family vacation, G. included this time, of course. And Callen…well, he was sitting with his laptop open, apparently trying to appease Hetty by pretending to do his paperwork.
Eric and Nell finished shutting down all of the appropriate computers up in the ops center and headed downstairs. "Kensi, are you doing anything after work?" Nell asked after reaching the bullpen.
"What did you have in mind?"
"Oh, I don't know. I thought maybe we could check out the new shoe store at the mall and then get a bite to eat."
"Sounds good to me."
"Shoe shopping?" Deeks piped up. "You can count me out."
"Good. Cause you weren't invited," Kensi said, sticking her tongue out at her partner.
Eric, stood next to Nell, looking a little dejected that this seemed to be a girls' night out sort of thing. "Anyone interested in checking out the new club downtown?"
"The one with the purple neon lighting and the techno music?" Callen asked without even looking up from his pretend work.
"Yeah?" Eric replied with a touch of caution and getting brief raised eyebrows from both Sam and Callen.
"Don't think so, Eric," Callen said, returning his gaze to his laptop. "I have something else going on."
Now it was Callen's turn to be on the receiving end of raised eyebrows. "What something else, G.?," Sam huffed. "You certainly don't have a life."
Callen opened his mouth, trying to come up with a clever response, when he was saved by Kensi. "You know, we all lead pretty exciting lives by day but our personal lives could use a little help."
"Speak for yourself," Deeks responded.
"Come on Deeks. When was the last time you really had anything exciting happen, or had a genuine relationship. And I don't mean with your inflatable Debbie doll."
Deeks shot Kensi a fake smile. "That's so funny." There was a pause. "Her name is Dollie." Everyone chucked. After another few seconds of silence, Deeks added, "For your information, my private life is pretty exciting; maybe even exciting enough for one of those romance novels you girls read."
"For your information, I don't read those romance novels. And I am sure that none of us have lives interesting enough for someone to write about."
"Oh but there are people who write about you," Eric said. Missing the 'don't go there' look from Nell, he continued. "It's on the internet."
All eyes were now on Eric, making him feel suddenly uncomfortable. But somehow his geeky computer knowledge just continued to ooze out. "It's called Fan Fiction."
"Are you for real?" Deeks asked, voice an octave higher than he meant it to be.
"Yes. He's for real," Nell responded. After all, Eric had already let the cat out of the bag and she wasn't about to let him take all the credit for this stash of computer wisdom. "It's a website for writers of all levels. They write their own stories based on TV shows, movies, books, and other media sources. The writers post their stories, or fics, on this site and other people log on to read."
Sam's eyes narrowed. "You're kidding."
"Not kidding. There are more than a thousand stories written about us. Sometimes the writers base their stories off of our actual cases and sometimes the fics are strictly from their imaginations."
Deeks shook his head. "That doesn't concern you all just a little? That you are supposed to be mysterious undercover agents and people are writing about you?"
"Don't strain your brain too much," Kensi said. "You're going to hurt yourself."
"I'm just saying, maybe you aren't as good as you think." Logic now overpowered by curiosity, all three agents glared at Deeks and his mouth slammed shut.
"What is this website and how do you even know about it?" Callen asked the information analysts who were still standing next to each other in the bullpen.
"Just like it's your job to know all the ins and outs of undercover work, it's our job to know everything about the internet," Eric said, gaining a little of his confidence back. "Just Google NCIS LA Fanfiction."
"Really not a good idea," Nell mumbled out of the corner of her mouth as all four agents furiously keyed in their search and Eric's confidence meter dropped back down a few degrees. Sam frowned and Eric was now thinking Nell was probably right. Not a good idea.
The agents began scrolling through the stories, clicking on the ones that caught their attention and reading small segments. "I can't believe this," Callen said in almost a whisper. "It's like they know us."
Silence fell over the bullpen for several minutes. "Who is this Shane Brennan guy?" Sam asked gruffly.
"Don't know," Callen responded. "But according to these writers, he must think he owns us."
"Maybe there's someone higher ranked than Vance that you guys have never met," Deeks suggested. Sam rolled his eyes and the bullpen, once again, became quiet.
"There sure are a lot of stories that involve us, Deeks," Kensi said while scanning a story. "Oooh. Now that's just wrong."
"What?" Callen asked, peering up at the female agent.
"The stories don't just involve us, they are ... about us. You know…" Callen leaned his head back and smirked at her. "Callen stop!" Kensi said and the senior agent had to dodge a pen that was launched at him.
Callen looked at Deeks and then back at Kensi. "So other people notice 'the thing', too," he continued to tease.
Deeks shook his head. "Guys, I keep telling you, there is no 'thing.'"
"Sure there is," Sam said nonchalantly, never looking up from his screen.
"Definitely not a 'thing.'" Then a smile slowly spread across Deeks' face. "They refer to us as 'Densi'. I might like this site after all."
Kensi backhanded her partner across the chest. "Don't get any ideas. This is just fiction, remember?"
"A guy can dream, can't he?"
"Some of these are pretty funny," Kensi said, changing the subject. "Here's one where you guys are going undercover dressed as women. I think I'll run this idea by Hetty for our next op."
If looks could kill, Kensi would have slumped over dead in her chair at that very moment. Eric and Nell, who were still watching quietly from the sidelines, both bit back grins.
"This one sounds like fun," Deeks said. "We are taking a trip together and end up all living in the same cabin."
Kensi cringed. "Stuck in a cabin with you, Deeks? Doesn't sound like fun to me."
"We seem to spend a lot of time in your black Challenger in these stories," Callen said to Sam out of the blue.
"Maybe they know what a bad driver you are, G."
"I am not a bad driver. I have had a few accidents but they were in the line of duty. And I have my own cars… nice cars. We don't always go in your Challenger," Callen said sounding a little annoyed.
"Whatever you say, G.," Sam mumbled and Callen shot him a look.
"Oh, oh, oh, Kensi, here are a bunch of stories where you are with Callen," Deeks said with just a tad too much excitement to suit Kensi.
"Now that's just creepy."
Callen looked up, mouth gaping. "Kenz. I thought you said being with Deeks was creepy."
"No. I said being with Deeks was wrong."
"But I'm creepy?" he asked, trying his best to sound offended.
"No. You're not creepy. Just…you know. It would be like being with an…"
"No. More like an older uncle." Sam patted his suddenly deflated partner on the back in an attempt to console him. He failed.
There were a few minutes a silence while the team continued to filter through the stories and then Callen broke the silence. "These people must really hate me."
"Why's that?" Kensi inquired.
"Because they keep shooting me, and stabbing me and poisoning me, and holding me hostage."
"Oh," Nell spoke up. "That doesn't mean they don't like you. In fact, that means they do like you."
"That's a funny way of showing it," Callen grumbled.
"It's called 'whump' or 'whumpage'. Just like some people seek out romantic or suspenseful fiction, there is a whole network of people who are drawn to this kind of story. In cases where you are taken care of afterwards, the stories are put in the 'hurt/comfort' category."
"But I don't need anyone taking care of me."
Everyone grinned at their indignant senior agent. "It's just pretend, G.," Sam reassured while fighting back a smile. "We all know you can take care of yourself."
"They've given me so many concussions that I would have brain damage by now," Callen continued to complain. "You're wrong, Nell. These people really do hate me." Knowing that he would never get it, Nell simply smiled to herself. Only a true hurt/comfort junkie would understand, she thought.
"There are even a lot of stories with Hetty," Deeks commented.
"Yeah," Eric said. "They describe her more like some magical, all knowing, all hearing creature that just floats around and appears out of nowhere."
"And your point, Mr. Beale?" Hetty said, suddenly appearing from out of nowhere.
"Oh, n nothing, Hetty," Eric stammered. "Nell and I were just exposing the team to Fan Fiction and your name came up."
"I see. And have you all finished your paperwork?" All heads nodded. "And Mr. Callen, your reports and team performance evaluations that are past due?"
Callen's lips parted and he nodded slowly. "Yes?" was his tentative response.
Hetty fixed him with a glare that told him that she knew better and Callen looked like a teenager who had been caught in a lie. Her stare was just too much, and after he was forced to look down, Hetty smiled. "Very well. Enjoy your little teambuilding session while things are quiet." Hetty turned around and began making her way to her office. "Oh, and Mr. Callen," she added smugly, not looking back. "May I recommend the stories where you are sick and injured and I get to take care of you? I think you'd quite enjoy those."
Callen crossed his arms and frowned at his computer screen. "I don't get sick."
"Yeah, yeah. We know," Sam said. It was getting harder and harder not to smile at his stubborn partner.
"Kensi, have you noticed that there are at least three times as many stories about us as any other team members?" Deeks asked.
"Would you please just read something else?"
"Okay. What about all these stories where you are romantically involved with these OC people? I've never even heard of these guys."
Nell saw this as an opportunity to resume her fan fiction lesson. "Oh. 'OC' stands for 'original character.' These are characters that the writer has created."
"A fictional character in my life might be interesting. Maybe even nice," Kensi said with a tone of contentment. The contentment was short lived, however.
"Hey, Kenz," Deeks said with a michevious grin. "You've had babies with me and Callen and several of these original characters. You really get around girl." In a blink of an eye, Kensi had grabbed Deeks' hand and was twisting his thumb until his body was contorted and he was begging for mercy. "Okay, okay! I'll stop!" She let go of his hand and he sighed in relief.
Sam stood up, and without warning, leaned down, scooped Callen up, and lifted him out of his chair. "Hey. What are you doing, man?" Callen yelled while being held like a child.
"Apparently, I carry you around a lot when you get knocked out. I was just seeing if you were as light as they make you sound."
"Put me down or I'm going to knock you out," Callen protested and was lowered back down to his seat.
He was still staring up at Sam in disbelief when Eric asked, "Well?"
"Pretty light," Sam said matter-of-factly. "He's a little guy but I'd hate to think I had to carry him all over town and lift him in and out of my Challenger as often as they write it into their stories."
"Nobody's carrying me anywhere." Callen grumbled, still steaming about the sudden encroachment of his personal space and now the reference to him being small. "And we don't always ride in your Challenger."
"Have it your way, G. Next time you're stabbed, and shot and knocked out with a concussion, and the building is on fire, I'll just leave your skinny butt behind."
Kensi abruptly interrupted the bantering. "Deeks! I'm going to kill you. How do they know about you doing my laundry?"
"I don't know," he replied in his most innocent voice. "I haven't told anyone…Except maybe the guy at the laundry matt … and there was this one guy in my apartment…and…"
"Deeks, if you want to continue living," Sam warned, "you might want to stop talking." Deeks took Sam's advice and shut his mouth.
A few moments had passed when Callen felt his partner's dark eyes staring at him and he turned to face him. "What?" he asked with a touch of agitation.
"I was just looking at your eyes."
"What's wrong with my eyes?" he asked, now with more than just a touch of agitation.
"Nothing. It's just several of the writers have mentioned them. I have never really noticed before. They are a nice bright blue color." This brought on a cough from Kensi and a giggle from Deeks.
Callen narrowed his eyes and turned to face his laptop again. "I'm going to pretend you didn't just say that."
"Aaw, how sweeeet," Kensi said. "Here's a story where Callen is just a little boy."
"There are people who even write about us all being kids?" Callen asked.
"No, Callen. We're all grown-ups in this story. You're the only one that's a kid." Callen rolled his eyes.
"That's 'AU' or 'AR', altered universe or altered reality," Eric explained. The senior agent just stared at his computer screen, shaking his head. This little fan fiction training session was certainly not doing much for his ego.
"Hey, Eric," Sam said. "I just noticed that there's a rating scale. These stories have all been 'K' though 'T'. I just clicked on something that brought up all the ratings. What types of stories are under this 'M' rating?"
"Oh, that's just the same stuff only less interesting," Eric lied while experiencing a sudden increased sense of dread. Now wanting to take a look at these 'less interesting' stories, the other three agents began clicking on their computer keys to change the rating. Nell bit her lip and Eric looked around for the quickest escape route.
Nell faked a smile and whispered where only Eric (and maybe Hetty) could hear. "I told you this was not a good idea."
"Woah. This is juicy stuff," Deeks said, beaming with excitement.
"Deeks. Don't you dare read any of this out loud," Kensi threatened.
"Okay. I'll just save it for my own private entertainment," he replied, logging off of his computer. Kensi also logged off, a bit too embarrassed to continue reading the mature version of 'Densi' while surrounded by her coworkers and secretly saving her reading for later, as well.
"The torture only gets worse," Callen whined. "What have I ever done to these people?" Deeks and Kensi walked around behind Sam and Callen and began reading over the older agents' shoulders.
"G. You die in this one," Sam commented. "You're right. They really don't like you."
"Told you. I read some of the reviews. It's like a whole cheerleading section yelling, 'hurt Callen more!'"
There was a minute of silence while the agents continued to scan through the story titles and the summaries. "What is this 'Slash' stuff I keep seeing?" Sam asked.
Eric's eyes widened. "Oh. You won't like those."
"Why not?" Callen asked. Now they had to look. The sound of Sam and Callen's keyboards, as they clicked onto their selected 'Slash' stories, cracked like a bolt of lightning in Nell and Eric's ears. The information analysts stood very still, holding their breath, waiting for the volcano to erupt.
Still peering over Sam and Callen's shoulders, big, toothy grins formed on Kensi and Deeks' faces. "What?" Callen and Sam yelled at the same time and their laptops were simultaneously slammed shut. Without a word, the two agents stood and began gathering their belongings, looking at anything but each other.
"Need beer," Sam mumbled and, with heads lowered, the men made their way out of the bullpen.
"Lots and lots of beer," Callen added, throwing his bag over his shoulder and shuddering involuntarily. Now in silence, and without lifting their gazes from the floor, the two agents walked quickly down the corridor leading out of the mission, heading off to find the nearest bar, in Sam's black Challenger of course.
Thanks for reading