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He's No Bond, That's For Sure

Keeping his back to the wall, Mike slid to the floor and opened his trusty laptop to check the cameras one last time. Freddy was in the dining area as usual, making sure all of the tables and chairs were in their proper places, Foxy was probably in Pirate's Cove – Mike couldn't see him on any of the cameras – and Bonnie was backstage, adjusting the heads of a few empty suits. Mike couldn't help but wonder, just for a moment, if anybody had ever been forced into those suits before, and he shuddered.

He couldn't find Chica, but that was good; if Mike couldn't see her on the cameras, then she could only be in one of two places: the bathrooms or the kitchen. Knowing that, Mike switched at last to the audio-only camera in the kitchen and the screen went black as always. But Mike didn't need to see what was in there, he just needed to hear it.

And listening closely Mike could hear just what he'd been hoping to hear. Chewing.

So Chica was in the kitchen. Mike smiled. Just as planned.

Silently, Mike closed the laptop and tiptoed toward the kitchen door, stopping just off to the side of it. Now that he was nearby, he could hear Chica chewing from outside without the need of the camera. For the past two weeks he'd heard that sound whenever he'd switched to the kitchen camera. He'd figured out on day two that it was Chica who was always in there, but only recently did he realize that she was chewing on something.

And he wanted to figure out just what was so appetizing... and maybe take some for himself.

He'd considered at first knocking on the door and telling her that Freddy needed her, which would allow him to slip in and actually take a look while she was gone. But then he realized that it wouldn't exactly give him a lot of time, and he didn't want Chica getting mad at him. He'd only just recently gotten into their good graces, he wasn't about to throw that away.

So instead he created another plan; put his ear to the door and pray like crazy he'd be able to figure it out from what he heard. It wasn't really a good plan. He'd be really conspicuous, he wouldn't actually be able to see anything, and if Chica came out she'd probably spot him. But it made him feel like a spy, so that was all he needed.

Aiming his flashlight at his feet, Mike slowly leaned forward and placed his ear against the two-way door leading to the kitchen. He could definitely hear the grinding of Chica's teeth biting into... something. He'd spent some time trying to figure out what it could have been that she enjoyed so much, and he'd narrowed it down to two likely options: pizza or people.

He was pretty sure it was pizza. He hoped.

Suddenly the chewing stopped, and Mike swiftly slid away from the door once again in case it were to open. Fortunately, it did not, although Mike couldn't help but hear what sounded like pots and pans rattling loudly inside. What was Chica doing?

A few moments later, Mike slid back to his post at the door. With all his being, he strained to hear just a little more of what was happening. In fact he was so engrossed in his task that when a certain fox snuck up behind him-

“What be ye doin', matey?”

-He was taken completely by surprise. The sound Mike made as he crashed through the kitchen door was neither dignified nor manly. The sound he made when he whipped the flashlight up into Chica's menacingly glaring face was even less so.

“Mike! What are you doing?!” Chica shouted down at the poor night guard. “And you, Foxy! Did you put him up to this?”

“Aye lass, I beseech ye! 'Tis a whale of a misunderstandin', I assure ye!” Foxy cried, waving his arms in panic.

“...Alright then,” Chica tore her eyes from the other animatronic and refocused on Mike. “What were you doing, Mike? Were you spying on me?!”

“It's... just a... misunderstanding,” Mike groaned.

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Sometime later…

“Y'know, you should've just asked if you were curious what I do in here,” Chica lightly reprimanded Mike. “I wouldn't have minded.”

“Sorry, I just liked my idea a little better,” Mike shrugged, taking another bite out of his pizza. Turned out she really was just eating pizza in the kitchen all night. Go freaking figure.

But as it turned out, Chica didn't just eat the pies, she made them too. And as Mike tore his way through the twin slices Chica had granted him, he had to admit that she was an exceptional chef. Granted, the pizza was still the usual cheap kind that these types of places served, but somehow it tasted amazing, almost as good as the higher quality stuff.

“This pizza's awesome, by the way,” Mike spoke with a smile. “You make this stuff a lot?”

“Every night,” Chica nodded. “It's a little repetitive, but it gives me something to do.”

“And then you... eat it?” Mike asked.

Chica stared at him oddly. “What? No, I'm all metal and gears. How would I eat it?”

Mike's eyes widened as the pizza slid from his hands. “Wait... but, wait, on the camera, I-I can hear you chewing. What are you chewing?”

Chica just flashed a toothy grin. “Sorry, Mike. I've gotta keep some secrets. See you around.” And then she wandered off.

Mike watched her leave, then wolfed down the pizza as fast as he could before his appetite could die out. He didn't want to waste food, after all.

After making sure his stomach would be alright, he started walking to Pirate's Cove. Foxy had looked a little sullen after scaring him earlier, so it was the least he could do.

Plus, anything that could keep his mind off of what Chica had just told him would be more than welcome.