WHAT IF? // Dave x Jeremy // fan fiction // FNAF // Blueycapsules

CHAPTER ONE - CLEANING UP

February 17, 10:04 PM, 1991

"DAAAAAAVE!" Someone called from the other side the the pizza place.

Dave's currently in Phil's office, fast asleep—laying his head on Phil's desk, drooling all over it, and to make things even better—snoring his face off too. The same person tries calling him again, "DAAAAVE!!!"

Still no response, not shocking. Loud stomps approach the office, and they get closer, and closer with every stomp.

WHAM!

The office door swings open, revealing an angry Jeremy. "Dave, why aren't you–" he cuts himself off when he sees Dave sleeping peacefully. His anger level decreases dramatically while watching him sleep; that's not gonna stop him from waking him up, now is it?

He walks over to Dave and yells at him to wake up at least twice.

"Ugh . . ." Dave slowly opens his eyes, blinking a couple times. He looks straight up to see Jeremy glaring down at him with his arms crossed. He rubs his eyes to make sure he's really awake, which he is. He wakes up completely but doesn't move.

He gives Jeremy a cold smile.

"Need somethin' partner?" He asks sarcastically.
"Yeah, uh, I kinda do!" Dave sighs, because he was hoping he wouldn't actually need anything—but no—he truly needs something.

"Ok, wot–I mean . . . what? What do ya need." He almost let his british-ness slip out once again. Jeremy knew it wasn't normal for him to sound like that a second time since he did this when they were arguing about the tickets for the arcades last time.

"Dave, why does your voice keep cracking up like that? It's really weird."
"Oh, it's just a tickle in my throat, nothin' more, nothin' less I'd say," he reassured him.

Jeremy finds that kind of suspicious, but shakes it off anyway, because there are more important things to worry about than a weird voice crack.

"Well, if you say so," he said, "but anyways, uh, the reason I'm in here in the first place is–" Jeremy just realized something, which resulted in him cutting himself off.
"Hey . . . wait a minute," he said slowly and suspiciously, "Why are YOU in Mr. Guy's office?"

Dave looks up at him, blinks a couple times, then sits back in the chair, putting his hands on the back of his head, in a relaxing position.

"Oh, that? Well you see . . ." he tries thinking of some kind of an excuse that's good, and one Jeremy would fall for, but he's running out of time to think of one.

Dave has to be very careful not to say the wrong thing; right now he's backed into a corner.
How will he get out of this one? Bloody hell, why does this keep happening to me? He asked himself, mentally.

"Well I see, what?" Jeremy repeated what Dave said.
"Well, you see, I . . ." he pauses.

Both of them just stare at each other, in silence for the next five seconds. "Oh, fuck this," Dave jumps out of the chair and heads towards the door, "I'm not dealin' with this stupid shit."
"Uhh . . ." Jeremy's too stunned to speak at the moment. "Where are you–"

SLAM!

Jeremy flinches slightly to the sudden slam of the door. "What just happened?" he asked himself out loud.

An hour or so has passed since that whole conversation happened with Jeremy and Dave, and right now, Dave is sleeping on the stage in between the animatronics toy Bonnie, and toy Chica.

Jeremy's casually sweeping in the party room right next to the stage area, sweeping up pieces of colorful confetti into a pile.

He lets out a soft sigh, indicating that he's bored. He doesn't let his boredom get the best of him though and keeps sweeping. "Good afternoon, Jeremy I'm back," Phil said, peeking his head into the party room.

Jeremy stops sweeping and looks over at him and smiles brightly, happy to see his favorite boss. "Hiya Mr. Guy! Welcome back!"

Phil looks around the room and sees the big pile of leftover confetti on the floor next to Jeremy.

"Ah, I see you're cleaning up the mess that was made in here from the children's birthday party yesterday, good work," he said with a smile.

Jeremy's flattered ever so slightly and scratches the back of his head, blushing.

"Heh, thank you boss, but I'm just doing my job," he said with a chuckle.
"Keep it up then, I like what I'm seeing. The sooner we finish cleaning, the sooner we can all go home for the night."
"You got it sir!"

Jeremy salutes to Phil with a grin, then continues sweeping right away. "I'll get right on it!" He chirped. Phil nods in agreement and walks away. Jeremy's been doing such a great job lately, I might give him a rai . . . se . . .

His thoughts trail off when he walks into the stage area. His eye twitches. Are you fucking kidding me, He wondered. "MR. MILLER." He said out of anger.

Dave wakes up but doesn't open his eyes and pretends to sleep just to screw with him. Bonnie and chica glance at each other, not knowing what to do in this situation. "Mr. Miller, what are you doing!?"

No answer, just "snores."

Of course Dave would be slacking off, why am I acting so surprised? He always does this, He thought. Phil takes a deep breath in, and lets it out slowly, then walks towards him. "Howdy Mr. Manager," Dave said after his eyes shot open.

He's done pretending to be asleep. "Mr. Miller, care to explain this?"

Dave cocks his head ever so slightly, sitting criss-crossed now. "Mmmm, explain what?"

Phil strokes the bridge of his nose, pushing his red glasses up his face a little bit, "I know that you know EXACTLY what I mean," he said in frustration, "so stop acting like you don't."

Dave frowns. "Oh, oh I see . . ." he stands up, "I'm sleeping on the job, ain't I?"
"Yes, Mr. Miller."

Dave jumps off the stage and stands right in front of Phil. "We certainly can't have that now can we?"
"No, we can't . . ."
"Don't worry Phillurp, I'll git cleaning right now." He pats Phil on the shoulder and winks at him before walking into a different room.

Phil in frustration just stands there, trying to figure it out . . . "Why haven't I fired him yet?"