---Spread Love {FNaF Night Guards x Reader} [GIRL]---

Unbelievable Alibi

"Ok so... now we know that, but, what does Mike want us to do with the information?" Fritz inquired.

"D-Didn't Y/N say Mike wanted to kill the guy?"

"Other than that."

You held a cookie (your fourth one, to be exact) to your lips. You pulled it away and turned to Fritz.

You said would ask him.

And so you did, later that very same day. You asked Mike what you were supposed about to do about the "guy."

"Kill him." No hesitation.

Other than that.

"Hmph. I don't know." He crossed his arms and his eyebrows lowered. "Get his ass a death sentence? I'll electric chair him personally, if nobody else wants to," he offered.

You rolled your eyes. Maybe you should just leave that bridge to be crossed when you came to it. Currently, you didn't even know who the murderer was.

"It's Vincent! Obviously! How many times do I need to tell you?"

You rolled your eyes again. Where was his proof?

"He's real... shifty looking."

That... wasn't proof.

Mike made a vague gesture with his hands in front of him. "Okay! Fine! You want real proof? When the police checked the security cameras, filmed during the time of the murders, Vincent was nowhere on there. Where else could he have been, other than in the suit?"

You shrugged with ease. The kitchen. The camera in there doesn't work.

"They asked the chefs, you think they hadn't thought of that? Vincent wasn't there." Mike raised an eyebrow. "Wasn't he a janitor, anyway? Why would he be there?"

Maybe Vincent wasn't supposed to come in to work that day?

"First off, the pizzeria would never let anybody off. Second off, nope. They checked that, too."

The bathroom?

"No dice. Was never seen going in. Or out, for that matter."

Well, Vincent must have had some type of alibi. Otherwise, why would he not be investigated?

"That's the thing! He does have an alibi."

Then why is Vincent even a suspect?

Mike leaned closer to you. "Because I don't believe it."

You rolled your eyes for the third time.

Mike leaned back out. "Come on! No cameras, nobody else except him and some Chris guy." Mike put his palms face up in some sort of shrug. "What if this Chris was lying about Vincent being with him? What if they were acquainted? If Chris was threatened?"

You were sure the police had thought of that.

"Ughhh!" Mike pinched the bridge of his nose. "You're hopeless."

You thought Mike was the hopeless one.

Suddenly, what Jeremy said in the library came to mind.

No better than whoever put them in those suits in the first place.

You were unsure if you should mention that thought to Mike. You were actually kind of curious to see what he would think about it. You decided to speak your thoughts, but without throwing Jeremy under the bus. (Because Jeremy's your bud and you don't want to do him like that.)

Though, on second thought, maybe you shouldn't have verbalized your thoughts because the instant you said it his expression turned dark.

"They're just scared and confused. It's different."

Was it?

You reported back to Jeremy and Fritz as soon as you had the chance. (Which was on Monday, the next day.)

"Hmph..." Jeremy hoisted himself up onto your kitchen counter. "I didn't think he wou- would react well to hearing that. You didn't tell him I said it, right?"

Fritz interjected. "Okay, that's all fine and dandy, but I've gotta tell you about my coworker from the bakery. You remember him, right, Y/N? I hate him. Total wastoid."

You told Fritz that it didn't seem like he was fond of any of his coworkers.

"Huh? Are you talking about how I complained about Vincent to you that one time, like, 200 years ago? Fuck you, you know?" He leaned back into your fridge and shoved his hands into his jean pockets. "And I was fond of you," he huffed.

Jeremy glared at him. "Guuuuuys!" he interjected in turn. "We're getting off-topic!"

"Who cares. I'm hungry," Fritz complained. He started occupy himself by opening random drawers.

"W-we seriously need to figure out what to do about this murder thing," Jeremy continued. "Mostly because if we don't, Mi-Mike will never leave you alone ever again."

"I'm sure this whole thing'll solve itself, Jere." Fritz opened the drawer next to him, spotting a magazine inside. He poked it. "--This isn't porn, right? God knows what kind of juices might be on here."

("Ewwwwww," Jeremy unhelpfully commented.)

You told him that even if you had a giant porn collection, you wouldn't store it in the kitchen.

Fritz finally picked it up and started to leaf through it. "I dunno dude, I stash my playboys in pretty strange places."

(Jeremy: "What's that s'pposed to mean?")

He stopped at a random page. "Uuuuuugh... I spy, with my four eyes. Cookies." (All of the cookies, by now, were long gone.) Frtiz's stomach growled. "Now I'm even hungrier," he said sadly.

Jeremy leaned on his elbow, which was propped up on the cabinet behind him. "I don't think you need anymore cookies."

"Hey!" Fritz slammed the magazine closed. "Are you calling me fat?"

"No! Why would I ever do that?"

Fritz grumbled, and Jeremy couldn't suppress his grin. What was supposed to have been a meet-up to discuss future decisions had turned into Jeremy "bullying" Fritz as you stood by. Oh well, it's not like you were complaining.

Jeremy suddenly reached out to place his hand on your shoulder. "Oh, Y/N? I-- I need to talk to you."

You were going to have him continue, but then Jeremy made a pointed glance at Fritz.

"Alone."

Fritz eyed you both suspiciously as Jeremy led you out into the hallway.

(A/N: I am sooooo sorry! Dx I think the last time I updated was over a month ago! I'm going to try really hard to get back on my game, hopefully I can get something consistent one day.

On a better note, this fic has reached 30 chapters! Yay!!)