Lab Rats Fanfiction Conference

It was that time of year again. The time of year the Davenports hated with a passion. It was worse than the fight with Douglass, the betrayal of Marcus, and the attacks of Spike combined. What was this horrible thing, you ask? Only the worst meeting the Davenports had ever been subjected to.

The Lab Rats Fanfiction Conference.

When it was first suggested, everyone thought it was a great idea. A whole day to celebrate themselves? Who wouldn't want that? But that was before they realized what it all entailed.

First there were the OCs. Now, they weren't inherently bad. Sometimes you need an OC to move the story along or simply as a comic relief (though that was normally Adam's job). But over half of the OCs were Mary Sues who were head over heels in love with Chase.

"I love you!"

"Don't run from me!"

"We belong together!"

It was enough to drive Chase insane.

"Leave me alone!" he begged. "I don't love any of you!"

One blonde OC forced her way to the front of the crowd and grabbed Chase's hand. He was instantly swarmed under a dog pile of girls also wanting to hold his hand or give him a hug or kiss him.

As he tried to escape, crying for help, the others thought about another thing they hated. OOCness.

It was horrible when they had to act OOC. There was one time when Adam started to behave intelligently all story long! It just wasn't natural. Then there was a time when Davenport was lovey-dovey and sweet and huggy. HUGGY.

No, just no.

Actually, Mr. Davenport was acting OOC right now. He was moping and saying over and over how horrible a person he was. His normally black jacket was hot pink for some reason.

"I'm a terrible person," he muttered "a terrible, terrible person. Why am I so horrible?"


And somewhere in another universe, a teenage girl began to cackle evilly.


There was one thing that Bree and Chase definitely did not like: couple pairings. It was worse for Chase because he was paired with almost everyone, but he really didn't like Brase. He remembered one fanfiction where they had gotten their own rooms and he had . . . yeah, so not going there.

But their luck would have it that someone decided to make every couple a reality for a few minutes. It started with Brase, then moved onto Chadam and Maree, then Larus, and basically every other couple. Then came a newer one: Spase.

"Chase, why are there two of you?" Bree asked as another Chase walked into the lab.

"I'm Spike," the Chase lookalike grumbled, striding over. "I'm a character; I just never get invited."

"Be glad you don –mmph!" Chase said, interrupted halfway through by Spike's mouth on his. When Spike finally pulled back, Chase glared at him.

"What the hell was that for?!"

"New couple," Spike grumbled. "Spase."

"I think that's worse than Brase and Chadam combined," Bree commented.

"Wouldn't that be considered selfcest?" Chase asked. "We're the same person."

"Not in those stories," Spike explained. "We're identical twins."

"Gross!"


Somewhere in an alternate dimension, a teenage authoress grinned scarily and muttered to herself "It's not over yet."


There was one other thing the characters didn't really like: AU. Yeah, sometimes it was fun –like when people were pulled into the show –but then you got the weird ones. There was one where Chase was a prince and Bree was Cinderella. Bree as a maid? Not gonna happen. But that's exactly what did happen.

"I have to do this why?" she hissed, cleaning the outside of Adam's capsule.

"The authoress is making us," Leo explained. "At least you're not the fairy godfather."

"Oh, so being Adam's maid is better?"

"Yeah!"

While they were fighting, Spike and Chase had noticed a small gray blur running around. Their faces lit up as they realized it was their cat from yet another fanfiction.

"Einstein!" Chase called as Spike shouted "Snake!"

The two boys instantly glared at each other.

"Einstein," Chase said firmly.

"Snake," Spike countered.

"Einstein."

"Snake.

"Einstein!"

"Snake!"

And this continued for several more minutes. Neither of them seemed to notice that the cat had run away from the arguing duo and into the arms of a strange OC. None of the characters remembered seeing her before in any of their fanfictions. Bree –now back in the outfit she got from New Jersey –was spotted by the unfamiliar OC from the back.

"Jersey! You're actually here before me?" the OC greeted, shocking Bree into turning around.

The girl's green eyes narrowed in confusion. "You're not New Jersey."

"No . . . and why are you holding Chase's cat?" Bree asked.

"He's not my cat!" Chase called from where he was arguing with Spike.

The OC dropped the cat back onto the ground before letting out a loud call. "ADMIN!"

A redheaded girl pushed her way over to the OC. "Hey New York."

"You tricked me!" New York snapped. "You said this was an emergency state meeting!"

"I lied," the other girl grinned. "Come on, let's go bother Masshole."

"Fine."

As the two of them left, Bree watched them in confusion. Who were they?


In a parallel universe, a teenage girl shook her head.

"I'd better be thanked for adding her and her OC for Hetalia in here," she grumbled. Then she smiled, getting an idea.


"What happened?!" Davenport shrieked, looking down at himself. He was wearing a hot pink gown and electric blue heels. On his head was a bright purple wig.

"This is not funny!" he insisted as everyone around him started laughing.

"Big D, I think you should tell Mom you wear women's clothing," Leo snickered.

"Wait, that's Mr. Davenport?" Adam asked. "I thought that was his twin sister Donna."

Davenport went to tear off the wig when he noticed the last part of his outfit. His nails were painted sparkly green.

"NO!" he cried in shock. "My nails are painted! This isn't natural!"


"Take that, Davendork," the authoress giggled. "Now what should I do?"

Sudden inspiration struck her, making her giggle even harder. This was gonna be good.


"What the hell?!" Spike hissed when he saw what happened. A second ago he had been in the lab, arguing with Chase, and now he was . . . where?

"Hey, no cussing!" a random voice scolded. Spike felt something hit him in the back of the head.

"Ow!" Spike rubbed his skull while glared around the . . . fluffy pink room. Crap, did he land in Barbie's torture chamber or something?

"Don't you dare compare me to Barbie," the girl's voice warned. "I am not her!"

"Who. Are. You?" Spike demanded.

"I'm no one important. Now . . . dance!"

Suddenly, Spike started doing the Cupid Shuffle against his will. The teenage girl giggled again, stepping out from behind the bionic teen. In her hands were a frying pan –probably what she had hit him with –and a video camera. She turned on said camera and pointed it at him.

"This is great blackmail," she laughed as Spike started doing the Wop.

Spike groaned as he realized he wasn't going to be let go anytime soon. As he danced to everything from Hammer Time to Cotton Eyed Joe, he was really starting to regret to coming to the LRCF.


After several hours, more costume changes, an attack by rabid OCs, and an accidental trip to China, it was finally time for the annual Lab Rats Fanfiction Conference to be over.

All the OCs left through the tunnels, as did the characters that had no business being in the lab –like Owen, who had been duck taped to the ceiling for a bit.

Once everyone was gone, the remaining characters congratulated each other on making it through the day. Everything was back to normal. Well, until music started playing and a voice called out "Dance!"

Here we go again.


And somewhere in our universe, a teenage authoress finally turned toward the audience and laughed cheerfully.

"The end!" she giggled, waving at the readers.


I wrote this months ago and finally found it hidden in my binder, so I edited it to fit the more current episodes of Lab Rats (aka fixing the lab). Thanks for reading!

~C