FIC: The Flames Game
Title: The Flames Game
Author: Amy (alexia@innergeekdom.net)
Fandom: Big Brother/Doctor Who, Big Brother/Battlestar Galactica, Big Brother/Jossverse, Big Brother/Sports Night, Big Brother
Summary: Four Things That Never Happened to Will Kirby in the BB7 House, and One That Maybe Did
Spoilers: ...Um. You guys. You all. You know what happened on BB7, right? I mean, you can't... NOT know what happened on BB7. Because... it was on three times a week. And I talked about it a lot. And so did other people. Also, the events of this fic take place during "flames"- that is to say, when instead of seeing what the cameras were recording, we only got the Big Brother theme song playing over close-up video of fire. So think of it as... outtakes. Outtakes with crossovers and love and my god, who the fuck looks for canon in parody reality TV RPF anyway?
Rating: ...Is "strong to quite strong" a rating? Um. Let's say R for language. The content's less objectionable than the feeds and the language is about on par with them, so make of that what you will.
Notes: Love to the rest of BB fandom. All five of you. Extra love to juliedarling for the beta. And, god willing, to Laremy, for asking some of our questions in tonight's chat. Section titles are quotes from the show and/or the feeds, and when possible, linked in the section header
2,049 words
1. Nerd Alert!
The phone booth crashed into the backyard less than three feet from the trampoline, where Will was bouncing as though his life depended on it and singing Madonna at the top of his lungs, and instead of just sitting there the way a piece of debris hurled from the sky probably should, the door opened up, and a man and a girl walked out of it.
That was the first sign that something wasn't right.
"You know," Will called casually, never stopping his jumping, "We're not supposed to have other people in here. Except for Neil Patrick Harris."
Neither of them said anything. They were both looking at him, waiting. They had just stepped out of a phone booth. Will got the feeling Howie would know who they were, but since Howie was in sequester, it was clearly up to him to figure out what the fuck was going on. "You probably shouldn't talk to me. It might be breach of contract." He paused, then added "Do you watch our show?"
Hey, he was bored.
Actually, he thought, they probably didn't watch All-Stars at all. That didn't look like a horribly American phone booth. They probably watched one of the foreign versions of the show. None of those casts had to ask for alcohol, and supposedly the feeds had lots of sex.
"Never mind," Will said. "I didn't mean to bother you. I thought maybe you were a banner plane that crashed to earth," he continued. "Instead of a phone booth, I mean." Each word was punctuated by a higher bounce on the trampoline.
They both stared at him. Will made an extra-high bounce and touched his toes. They didn't applaud, which was kind of sad, because it was a pretty awesome move.
"Look," Will said, "have you cleared this with the producers? Because I'm not going to get kicked off the show just because you had this weird fan plan and accents." He paused. "Did I introduce myself, by the way? I'm..." Will. Dr. Delicious. The puppetmaster. "The evil doctor. Hi."
"The Doctor?" the girl asked, with a slight glance at her partner that Will, for some reason, totally couldn't read. Maybe she'd read about him online.
Will could have said something more, but they were all of a sudden distracted by one of the six new shiny garbage cans that had appeared outside last night. Probably they were hired by the producers. Made sense. They should have waited til he was inside on lockdown, though.
Will bounced his way into another flip. It was really too bad nothing interesting happened in the house anymore.
Neil Patrick Harris had been awesome, though.
He started to sing some Salt n Pepa again.
2. Skin Over Circuitry and Wires
Will had a way of smiling that made people nervous. A smile and a little twinkle of his eyes and at the very same time, he could make people at ease and make them fear for their lives. And that went double for this season, too. Most, if not all, of the houseguests remembered him from his season. The Puppetmaster. Dr. Delicious. Will fucking Kirby. Lie about everything and enjoy it. Throw every competition, and win the damn game.
There wasn't a person on the show he wasn't in an alliance with. There wasn't a person on the show he wouldn't, when pushed, sell out. It was part of the game. And, really, it was all a game.
(Seriously, Erin, he thought to himself. Just a game. Oh, he was going to be so dead when he got home. He just hoped Scout was still speaking to him.)
Will had a way to make things seem right, even when they weren't. He had a way to win the girls over by wanting to fuck him; win the boys over by wanting to be him. Just look at Howie. Hell, just look at James.
There were just certain things you needed to do, to be an All Star. Be a master manipulator. Know how to seriously win competitions- see also: Janelle- or artfully throw them- see also: him. Never get on anyone's bad side. Make sure everyone knows how seriously you don't take the game.
Then? Whip everyone's ass, and leave them staring at Julie Chen saying "But I really was a part of Chill Town! Will said!"
It wasn't that Will didn't take the game seriously. He took it deadly seriously. It was the people he didn't. And really, there was no reason to; it was like trying to outsmart a toddler with six-syllable words while distracting them with a lollipop and a brand-new episode of Barney.
Hey, if it was going to be like that, why not have fun with it?
Will had a few things he sincerely believed in above all else. The taste of really good wine, the beauty of a perfectly set-up trampoline, and of course, the will of the One True God.
He could believe in those wholly and completely. It let him lie about everything else.
"Look like a human on the outside," said with a smile and a wink, and he could keep playing his game while no one suspected a thing.
Okay. So he lied about almost everything. Everyone had to tell some truths.
3. Do I Look Like A Heterosexual Vampire?
It wasn't Will's fault that he was a little bit afraid of Janelle. And not just because she tended to get drunk and flirty. Flirtatious drunks Will could handle, but Janelle was different. After all, she was a pretty deadly competitor. Buxom blonde, sure, but buxom blonde made of evil. Or, really, good, which was even worse; evil Will could totally handle, but genuine good was his kryptonite. Evil were people like him, Nicole, Dani, Boogie- people reality TV was made for. Fun to watch, but happy to backstab each other, and outdone by genuine charisma. Good was for people like Monica, who needed to be eliminated because otherwise, they would win.
Janelle was pure good.
And she broke the punching bag.
It didn't make sense. He and Boogie had been working out since they'd gotten into the house. Erika was a freaking Pilates coach. Howie was toned. Danielle at least had rage issues. If someone in the house was going to break the punching bag, Will would have put Chicken George before Janelle.
"Did I do it wrong?" she was asking the assembled houseguests when Will got there. "I thought you were just supposed to- hit it."
"What happened?" he asked, and then trailed off when he saw it. The punching bag. Lying on the ground, split wide open. "Daaaaamn."
"I didn't mean to do it wrong!" she protested. "Will!"
Janelle had a habit of whining his name like somehow he could make time run backwards if he really wanted to, and was only refraining to spite her.
"What the hell did you do?" he asked. "Plant explosives in it?"
"I was just hitting it! I was pissed off at you" (and that was a loaded you; he dodged the look Boogie was shooting him) "and I was just looking for something to hit and then..."
Will was suddenly glad she'd found something to hit that wasn't him.
He didn't get a chance to discuss it until the next day, sometime after noon when Janelle was just entering REM sleep.
"She changed," Boogie hissed. "I'm telling you, like night and fucking day. One day she could barely do a single pull-up and now? I woke up to pee last night and she's just doing like eighty fucking pull-ups."
Will raised a perfectly-groomed eyebrow. "Is this about her winning all the competitions again?" he asked. "Because we totally threw the comp to her, remember?"
"No, Will, I'm telling you, she was on it like a BEAST."
Boogie was his best friend, so Will believed him. Kind of. Not really.
Then three nights later, well after dark, he saw Janelle notice something out of the corner of her eye. And spin around towards it. Her eyes grew large and focused and cold, like a cat's. Something looked like it darted past her, and a moment later he saw her hand go through the box formerly known as the jack shack.
"It was an accident!" she squealed, looking horrified. "I didn't mean-"
"I'll say I broke it," he heard himself say, as though they weren't on tape and couldn't be checked.
Terrified of Janelle. Seriously. He was fucking terrified.
4. Here To Produce A Show (In the absence of a link to audio or video of this, please enjoy Will winning the giant peanut butter jar.)
Everyone had their favorites. Sometimes it was Allison, sometimes it was Jonah- there was always the comment of "they're in the DR, so." as Will passed people to get into the diary room.
Will could bullshit with the best of them. But when it came right down to it, his wasn't either of them.
"Hey, Natalie," he said, smirking a little.
"Hey, Will." He couldn't see her, obviously, but he could hear her. She had a pretty nice voice. He would have bet she was hot.
He'd met most of the other producers, but Natalie was different. She wasn't stuck in the reality circuit like everyone else was. She was used to working at sports shows, and supposedly she had a gig lined up for Studio Sixty at the beginning of the new season. Which meant she didn't care. She didn't give a shit if they were voting out Chicken George or evicting Kaysar on his birthday or anything. Will respected the way she didn't make any bones about disliking James or liking Janelle, not because of their game play but because of what she had to deal with on the show or in the DR. She wasn't the type of person who should have been exec producer, probably- she didn't have a clue about how the game worked before the show started- but that was okay.
She had a crush on Will. Of course she did. Everything would be fine.
Flirting in the diary room was one of life's few pleasures. Most of the producers wouldn't stand for it- fuck, most of the producers were straight men- but there were always a few who would sneak it in, knowing they might let out some extra nugget without noticing.
Will always noticed it was happening, but for Natalie, he'd be willing to allow it.
"I have a boyfriend," she'd told him once in mid-flirt.
"So? I have a girlfriend. Erin Brodie-"
"Two time winner of For Love or Money?" she finished. "We've heard the pitch, Will. I'm serious. I have a boyfriend."
"I have Janelle too."
"Can we phrase that a little clearer?" she asked immediately, and he noticed one of the cameras zooming in on his face.
Will just laughed. Ignored it. "And who are you seeing, Natalie? Casey McCall? Matt Albie?"
"Jeremy Goodwin." She stopped midway through the last name and then continued flatly, like she'd risen to bait and wasn't happy about it. Will didn't know who this Jeremy person was, but Natalie's tone of voice indicated it wasn't going to be a topic of discussion.
"What do you want to know?" Will asked. "I have some great lines about Howie ready. I want to try a few inflections, though. You want to hear?"
"Sure, Will," was all that she said, and it wasn't the first time he didn't know how to read her. She was either really pissed, or really amused, or- Will was just guessing here- really turned on. He bet this Jeremy person would be really freaking happy in a few hours. Jeremy might start another fan tribute site to Will for whatever Natalie would do after this DR session alone.
Will was being funny, too. He was damn funny. He better be getting extra alcohol for this. And not the crappy cheap wine they'd been getting, either. He wanted the good shit.
Will smiled up at one of the cameras, basking in the attention, giving the producers what they wanted. It was a good thing he knew Natalie had a crush on him. Otherwise, he'd be thinking he was getting royally screwed.
5. Flirt Game is Strong to Quite Strong
Their joint Chill Town Phone Call went well. Better than well. It went amazing.
Janelle was glowing. She hadn't been lying; she really did play better with an alliance.
"So," Will said.
"So," Janelle said.
She smiled. He smiled.
The camera wasn't recording.
Operation: Double Date was a success.
Author: Amy (alexia@innergeekdom.net)
Fandom: Big Brother/Doctor Who, Big Brother/Battlestar Galactica, Big Brother/Jossverse, Big Brother/Sports Night, Big Brother
Summary: Four Things That Never Happened to Will Kirby in the BB7 House, and One That Maybe Did
Spoilers: ...Um. You guys. You all. You know what happened on BB7, right? I mean, you can't... NOT know what happened on BB7. Because... it was on three times a week. And I talked about it a lot. And so did other people. Also, the events of this fic take place during "flames"- that is to say, when instead of seeing what the cameras were recording, we only got the Big Brother theme song playing over close-up video of fire. So think of it as... outtakes. Outtakes with crossovers and love and my god, who the fuck looks for canon in parody reality TV RPF anyway?
Rating: ...Is "strong to quite strong" a rating? Um. Let's say R for language. The content's less objectionable than the feeds and the language is about on par with them, so make of that what you will.
Notes: Love to the rest of BB fandom. All five of you. Extra love to juliedarling for the beta. And, god willing, to Laremy, for asking some of our questions in tonight's chat. Section titles are quotes from the show and/or the feeds, and when possible, linked in the section header
2,049 words
1. Nerd Alert!
The phone booth crashed into the backyard less than three feet from the trampoline, where Will was bouncing as though his life depended on it and singing Madonna at the top of his lungs, and instead of just sitting there the way a piece of debris hurled from the sky probably should, the door opened up, and a man and a girl walked out of it.
That was the first sign that something wasn't right.
"You know," Will called casually, never stopping his jumping, "We're not supposed to have other people in here. Except for Neil Patrick Harris."
Neither of them said anything. They were both looking at him, waiting. They had just stepped out of a phone booth. Will got the feeling Howie would know who they were, but since Howie was in sequester, it was clearly up to him to figure out what the fuck was going on. "You probably shouldn't talk to me. It might be breach of contract." He paused, then added "Do you watch our show?"
Hey, he was bored.
Actually, he thought, they probably didn't watch All-Stars at all. That didn't look like a horribly American phone booth. They probably watched one of the foreign versions of the show. None of those casts had to ask for alcohol, and supposedly the feeds had lots of sex.
"Never mind," Will said. "I didn't mean to bother you. I thought maybe you were a banner plane that crashed to earth," he continued. "Instead of a phone booth, I mean." Each word was punctuated by a higher bounce on the trampoline.
They both stared at him. Will made an extra-high bounce and touched his toes. They didn't applaud, which was kind of sad, because it was a pretty awesome move.
"Look," Will said, "have you cleared this with the producers? Because I'm not going to get kicked off the show just because you had this weird fan plan and accents." He paused. "Did I introduce myself, by the way? I'm..." Will. Dr. Delicious. The puppetmaster. "The evil doctor. Hi."
"The Doctor?" the girl asked, with a slight glance at her partner that Will, for some reason, totally couldn't read. Maybe she'd read about him online.
Will could have said something more, but they were all of a sudden distracted by one of the six new shiny garbage cans that had appeared outside last night. Probably they were hired by the producers. Made sense. They should have waited til he was inside on lockdown, though.
Will bounced his way into another flip. It was really too bad nothing interesting happened in the house anymore.
Neil Patrick Harris had been awesome, though.
He started to sing some Salt n Pepa again.
2. Skin Over Circuitry and Wires
Will had a way of smiling that made people nervous. A smile and a little twinkle of his eyes and at the very same time, he could make people at ease and make them fear for their lives. And that went double for this season, too. Most, if not all, of the houseguests remembered him from his season. The Puppetmaster. Dr. Delicious. Will fucking Kirby. Lie about everything and enjoy it. Throw every competition, and win the damn game.
There wasn't a person on the show he wasn't in an alliance with. There wasn't a person on the show he wouldn't, when pushed, sell out. It was part of the game. And, really, it was all a game.
(Seriously, Erin, he thought to himself. Just a game. Oh, he was going to be so dead when he got home. He just hoped Scout was still speaking to him.)
Will had a way to make things seem right, even when they weren't. He had a way to win the girls over by wanting to fuck him; win the boys over by wanting to be him. Just look at Howie. Hell, just look at James.
There were just certain things you needed to do, to be an All Star. Be a master manipulator. Know how to seriously win competitions- see also: Janelle- or artfully throw them- see also: him. Never get on anyone's bad side. Make sure everyone knows how seriously you don't take the game.
Then? Whip everyone's ass, and leave them staring at Julie Chen saying "But I really was a part of Chill Town! Will said!"
It wasn't that Will didn't take the game seriously. He took it deadly seriously. It was the people he didn't. And really, there was no reason to; it was like trying to outsmart a toddler with six-syllable words while distracting them with a lollipop and a brand-new episode of Barney.
Hey, if it was going to be like that, why not have fun with it?
Will had a few things he sincerely believed in above all else. The taste of really good wine, the beauty of a perfectly set-up trampoline, and of course, the will of the One True God.
He could believe in those wholly and completely. It let him lie about everything else.
"Look like a human on the outside," said with a smile and a wink, and he could keep playing his game while no one suspected a thing.
Okay. So he lied about almost everything. Everyone had to tell some truths.
3. Do I Look Like A Heterosexual Vampire?
It wasn't Will's fault that he was a little bit afraid of Janelle. And not just because she tended to get drunk and flirty. Flirtatious drunks Will could handle, but Janelle was different. After all, she was a pretty deadly competitor. Buxom blonde, sure, but buxom blonde made of evil. Or, really, good, which was even worse; evil Will could totally handle, but genuine good was his kryptonite. Evil were people like him, Nicole, Dani, Boogie- people reality TV was made for. Fun to watch, but happy to backstab each other, and outdone by genuine charisma. Good was for people like Monica, who needed to be eliminated because otherwise, they would win.
Janelle was pure good.
And she broke the punching bag.
It didn't make sense. He and Boogie had been working out since they'd gotten into the house. Erika was a freaking Pilates coach. Howie was toned. Danielle at least had rage issues. If someone in the house was going to break the punching bag, Will would have put Chicken George before Janelle.
"Did I do it wrong?" she was asking the assembled houseguests when Will got there. "I thought you were just supposed to- hit it."
"What happened?" he asked, and then trailed off when he saw it. The punching bag. Lying on the ground, split wide open. "Daaaaamn."
"I didn't mean to do it wrong!" she protested. "Will!"
Janelle had a habit of whining his name like somehow he could make time run backwards if he really wanted to, and was only refraining to spite her.
"What the hell did you do?" he asked. "Plant explosives in it?"
"I was just hitting it! I was pissed off at you" (and that was a loaded you; he dodged the look Boogie was shooting him) "and I was just looking for something to hit and then..."
Will was suddenly glad she'd found something to hit that wasn't him.
He didn't get a chance to discuss it until the next day, sometime after noon when Janelle was just entering REM sleep.
"She changed," Boogie hissed. "I'm telling you, like night and fucking day. One day she could barely do a single pull-up and now? I woke up to pee last night and she's just doing like eighty fucking pull-ups."
Will raised a perfectly-groomed eyebrow. "Is this about her winning all the competitions again?" he asked. "Because we totally threw the comp to her, remember?"
"No, Will, I'm telling you, she was on it like a BEAST."
Boogie was his best friend, so Will believed him. Kind of. Not really.
Then three nights later, well after dark, he saw Janelle notice something out of the corner of her eye. And spin around towards it. Her eyes grew large and focused and cold, like a cat's. Something looked like it darted past her, and a moment later he saw her hand go through the box formerly known as the jack shack.
"It was an accident!" she squealed, looking horrified. "I didn't mean-"
"I'll say I broke it," he heard himself say, as though they weren't on tape and couldn't be checked.
Terrified of Janelle. Seriously. He was fucking terrified.
4. Here To Produce A Show (In the absence of a link to audio or video of this, please enjoy Will winning the giant peanut butter jar.)
Everyone had their favorites. Sometimes it was Allison, sometimes it was Jonah- there was always the comment of "they're in the DR, so." as Will passed people to get into the diary room.
Will could bullshit with the best of them. But when it came right down to it, his wasn't either of them.
"Hey, Natalie," he said, smirking a little.
"Hey, Will." He couldn't see her, obviously, but he could hear her. She had a pretty nice voice. He would have bet she was hot.
He'd met most of the other producers, but Natalie was different. She wasn't stuck in the reality circuit like everyone else was. She was used to working at sports shows, and supposedly she had a gig lined up for Studio Sixty at the beginning of the new season. Which meant she didn't care. She didn't give a shit if they were voting out Chicken George or evicting Kaysar on his birthday or anything. Will respected the way she didn't make any bones about disliking James or liking Janelle, not because of their game play but because of what she had to deal with on the show or in the DR. She wasn't the type of person who should have been exec producer, probably- she didn't have a clue about how the game worked before the show started- but that was okay.
She had a crush on Will. Of course she did. Everything would be fine.
Flirting in the diary room was one of life's few pleasures. Most of the producers wouldn't stand for it- fuck, most of the producers were straight men- but there were always a few who would sneak it in, knowing they might let out some extra nugget without noticing.
Will always noticed it was happening, but for Natalie, he'd be willing to allow it.
"I have a boyfriend," she'd told him once in mid-flirt.
"So? I have a girlfriend. Erin Brodie-"
"Two time winner of For Love or Money?" she finished. "We've heard the pitch, Will. I'm serious. I have a boyfriend."
"I have Janelle too."
"Can we phrase that a little clearer?" she asked immediately, and he noticed one of the cameras zooming in on his face.
Will just laughed. Ignored it. "And who are you seeing, Natalie? Casey McCall? Matt Albie?"
"Jeremy Goodwin." She stopped midway through the last name and then continued flatly, like she'd risen to bait and wasn't happy about it. Will didn't know who this Jeremy person was, but Natalie's tone of voice indicated it wasn't going to be a topic of discussion.
"What do you want to know?" Will asked. "I have some great lines about Howie ready. I want to try a few inflections, though. You want to hear?"
"Sure, Will," was all that she said, and it wasn't the first time he didn't know how to read her. She was either really pissed, or really amused, or- Will was just guessing here- really turned on. He bet this Jeremy person would be really freaking happy in a few hours. Jeremy might start another fan tribute site to Will for whatever Natalie would do after this DR session alone.
Will was being funny, too. He was damn funny. He better be getting extra alcohol for this. And not the crappy cheap wine they'd been getting, either. He wanted the good shit.
Will smiled up at one of the cameras, basking in the attention, giving the producers what they wanted. It was a good thing he knew Natalie had a crush on him. Otherwise, he'd be thinking he was getting royally screwed.
5. Flirt Game is Strong to Quite Strong
Their joint Chill Town Phone Call went well. Better than well. It went amazing.
Janelle was glowing. She hadn't been lying; she really did play better with an alliance.
"So," Will said.
"So," Janelle said.
She smiled. He smiled.
The camera wasn't recording.
Operation: Double Date was a success.