Story: Reasons (all chapters)

“Remind me again why you can’t just wear the pant-suit?” Mac asked, watching Veronica examine another out-fit in the mirror.

She’d decided that since Mac and Parker were already in on The Case of the Missing Monkey she might as well let them in on her and her father’s attempts to figure out Dean O’Dell’s questionable death. Sure, her dad hadn’t officially taken on the case yet – but Veronica had been too close to too many questionable deaths before this to just turn away. Something had been overlooked, that much was obvious. Now it was just a matter of determining what.

“Because this one considers herself smart, and on the off chance she isn’t as completely brainless as those two idiots who ripped off the Student Casino – I don’t want to start off on the wrong foot and insult her intelligence.”

“So the floor-length floral skirt…?” Parker asked, sitting on the couch.

“Gonna play the odds. Security officer, so probably butch by default, trying to give off that Femme-vibe. Dressing cruelty free just in case she’s one of those morally conscious lesbians.” She said, pulling on an olive-green sweater over the white collared shirt she wore.

“You could crack out a sharpie and draw on a nice, thick unibrow too.” Mac suggested, grinning.

“I could pull some hair out of the shower drains and we could past it under your arms?” Parker offered, laughing, “Which sounds more hippy – under-arm dreads, or beaded-braids…?” she asked, pensively.

“Whoa guys! I’m just trying to pick her up, not spending the weekend with her at Dina Shore.” Veronica had to put a stop to the disturbing visuals her friends were suggesting.

“How reliable is the intel you got?” Mac asked, her still amused but doubting tone not lost on Veronica.

“Weevle said he’s seen her around, constantly getting hit on by the men of Hearst’s proud Rent-A-Force, but every offer? Declined.”

“So far that just sounds like good taste, not gayness.” The taller blonde pointed out. Veronica barely suppressed a grin.

“Isolated by itself, yes.” She said as she pulled her hair up into a bun at the top of her head. “But in the broad spectrum of circumstantial evidence? Weevil, Piz, Logan...even you, Mac, have seen her in the company of one, age-appropriate, Willow Rosenberg. Only her, I might add.”

“My Tech teacher?” Mac clarified, “That is a bit more convincing.” She nodded, eyebrows slightly raised.

“Why? What does that mean?”

“Professor Rosenberg teaches Modern Compiling, Information in the Age of Google,” Veronica clarified as she finally turned away from the mirror and towards Parker. “She’s open about her sexuality, and also quite anti-social. Sounds like Down-Low dating of a fellow Hearst employee to me.” Parker decided not to argue.

“What’s your angle?” Mac asked, almost excitedly, “How’re you gonna get close to her?”

“I figured a good’ole fashion stalking would do the trick.” She said as she grabbed her bag and headed for the door. “Wish me luck!” and she was gone.

“She does know that she looks more like a straight prude than a Lesbian, right?” Parker asked her roommate while Mac re-arranged all the clothes Veronica had tried on and rejected.

“Veronica may be smart, but a lot of her hunches are based on the law of averages.” Mac sighed. “And being gay… it’s a divergence from the average. But I can’t deny her effectiveness. Sometimes, working with stereotypes is better than going in blind.”

-

A gay bar. Not just any gay bar; a lesbian joint called Velvet.

“How I got here, I do not know…” Buffy mumbled to herself as she leaned her elbows on the slab, drinking her Iced Tea. A moment later a flute of Champaign was set in front of her by the bartender.

“From the lady on the end.”

Buffy didn’t even look up.

“Send it back.” She almost grunted, keeping her eyes fixed on the surface of the counter.

“You’re not even curious enough to look?” The bartender asked. That meant she was jealous, her admirer must have been quite a looker. As if she cared?

“Send it back.” She said, locking eyes with the server. “As politely as possible.” The girl shook her head and poured the glass out into a sink hidden below the bar with a great flourish, scowling. The Slayer scowled right back. “You call that polite?”

“No. I call that a waste. That’s the third drink you’ve been offered tonight and you’ve been here barely an hour. Might as well make it obvious to anyone else wanting to buy you a drink that it’s a waste of money.” The girl leaned towards the blonde conspiratorially, “So, why do you come here?” Buffy sighed.

“You see the wisp of a redhead out on the dance floor?” She asked, not turning around. The bartender took a second to locate the target over Buffy’s shoulder before nodding. “Roommate.” She clarified, taking a long drink of her Tea, “She’s the lesbian. Had some bad luck finding a new girlfriend. I’m the wingman, here to provide moral support and a ride home.”

“But this is your forth visit here in three weeks.” The bartender noted, “And there have been nights when she didn’t need you for a ride home.” Her tone was suggestive.

“You ever see Coyote Ugly?”

“You kidding? I’m a gay bartender.”

“What’s the name of the bar mean?” The grin fell off the other woman’s face.

“Oh. I see your point.”

“She’s looking for a girlfriend, not one-night-stands. Which is turning out to be surprisingly hard to come by in this small town. And since she’s a Professor at Hearst, and can’t date students…” the bartender nodded again, taking empty beer bottles from patrons as they handed them back.

“I getcha.” She muttered, uncapping more MGDs and handing them to rather man-ish looking women next to Buffy, “You’re welcome to park here, so long as you don’t cause too much of a pile-up.” The blonde smiled in thanks and raised her glass briefly in salute as the bartender winked and walked further down the line. But she didn’t leave for long.

“What’s this?” Buffy asked as the bartender set an empty glass in front of her.

“This is something new, so I thought I’d at least let you hear them out.” She told the blonde, her grin fairly sly.

“Is it a tall, dark and hansom man?” she asked, voice slightly irritated, “Before they started T-Treatment, I mean? Or would that be asking too much?” She shook her head.

“Admirer said you can fill the glass with whatever you want.” At this the blonde’s eyebrows rose, “Just as long as you talk to her while you drink it.” Buffy shot the server a look. “Hey, ask for a shot of tequila and down it. That’ll take just long enough to say ‘hello’ quickly followed with ‘goodbye’.” Buffy chuckled and shook her head. “Come on! Worse case scenario, you have an actual conversation.”

“Fine.” Buffy relented. “Double Glenfiddich and two maraschino cherries.”

“What?” the bartender asked, slightly disgusted, “A fine scotch, and candied fruit?” Buffy nodded. “In the same glass?”

“I like to suck on the cherries at the end.” The bartender smirked in a way that implied that her mind had just gone to a dirty place. The blonde sat, pointedly waiting.

“Right on it, then.”

“Which one is she?” Buffy asked, hesitantly, suddenly wondering if the smirk her server wore was due to the appearance of the woman she’d just accepted a drink from.

“She’ll come to you.” She winked as she handed over the odd drink. “Good luck.” Buffy nodded and took a small sip, savoring the clean taste of quickly evaporating, oak-barrel-aged Scottish whisky with just a hint of sweetness in the background.

“So who finally got to you?”

Buffy turned to look at the woman standing directly to her left. She wore a curious grin and a floor-length floral skirt. Buffy smirked at her.

“Dunno. They haven’t made themselves known to me yet. And I’m a very impatient person. Not gonna let my drink vanish waiting for them to show up.” She said as she took another sip, this one a little fuller.

“You here alone?” her neighbor asked.

“Not exactly.” She set her drink down carefully on the counter, eyes fixed ahead of her at the bottles lining the mirrored shelves. “I’m here to keep an eye on my roommate. She hates going out to places like this alone.” She felt the girl next to her shift, but didn’t turn to look as she very nearly finished her Scotch.

“So you are alone. In the sense of… no romantic ties?” Buffy couldn’t help but smirk.

“Not here, no.”

“My name’s Alma.” She said, holding out a small, soft hand.

“And my name’s Joannie Stubbs.” Buffy said, turning to face her. Noticing the way the girl’s eyes squinted ever so slightly at the name, she knew it was half familiar. “I know who you are, Veronica. Most of us do.” Veronica’s grin fell slack on her face.

“Frak.” The younger blonde muttered. Buffy just smirked at her and didn’t bother to hide the amused tone in her voice.

“I take it you took campus rumor to be true,” she said, eyeing her up and down. “Why else would you be here. And dressed like that.” Veronica smiled tightly. “I mean, I know you’re a librarian, but that outfit is – ”

“How do you know where I work?” Veronica countered quickly. Buffy just smiled.

“I work on campus too. But you already know that. That’s why you’re here. That’s why you followed me in your gray Saturn, student parking pass 24854.” It wasn’t hard to notice the hardening of the young woman’s features.

“What do you want?” Veronica asked, voice stiff. Buffy just shook her head.

“The question is what do you want, Veronica. I want to know why you would go through all this trouble?” The smaller woman frowned. She’d lost control of the situation and couldn’t seem to regain her footing.

“Trouble?”

“The stake-out, the drink, the lie, not to mention the outfit…” at which point Buffy laughed, Veronica self-consciously popping the top-most button of her starched shirt. “I can only assume it’s because you know exactly what my job entails.”

“Let’s say, hypothetically, that I do.” She started, her tone all business, “I’m not about to tell you my sources.” Buffy grinned, this time without amusement, just honest.

“I know your source already. It’s you. You must have asked around, or simply put it together through observation; I don’t know.” She stepped closer to the younger woman, and Veronica was surprised by how uncomfortable the close proximity made her. Not because of any kind of fear, but more the lack thereof. An excited nervousness. Once again, she was slightly thrown off beat, and the increasing number of causes didn’t help.

“But you have yet to answer my question.” Buffy pointed out, “Why are you here Veronica? What do you want from me?” she asked, leaning in and almost whispering, the noise of the club really not all that noisy suddenly. Veronica was a little shocked to say the least when the first mental image she had after that question was of the blonde leaning closer still. She shook it off and fixed her eyes on the older woman. Buffy certainly didn’t seem unsettled, if anything she looked mildly smug. She hated that look on other people.

“I know that portions of the campus are monitored. I want to know what parts, where the feeds lead, who knows about them, and whom might have access to them.” She asked, no nonsense. Buffy nodded.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” Veronica asked, skeptically. “Just like that?” Buffy nodded. “Now the coercion technique I’ve been fine-tuning is all for naught - what am I supposed to do with all that bamboo?” The older girl allowed herself a chuckled as she leaned back against the bar once more.

“I helped clear the pot out of that sorority you busted. I also heard about your part in catching the rapists.” The look she got from Buffy was sober and almost kind. “The reason campus security has it out for you has more to do with ego than morality. You busted two of our guys, and now whenever we try to pull authority on a student we get even less respect – a damn near impossible feat.” Veronica had the feeling she should be showing at least a little bit of remorse, but Buffy’s expression was one of amusement.

“But that’s never really bothered me, since the most responsibility I’m allowed is guard-dogging a nest of monitors. The only other guy I have working with me is a former deputy that Lamb forced into retirement when he took over. And he’s a big fan of your Dad. Especially after this summer when he finally caught Woody Goodman.” The two blondes smiled at each other, faces almost mirrors of one another. Somehow, their close proximity had lost all hostility.

“Buffy!” The Slayer turned to see Willow happily approaching from the small, crowded dance floor. “This place is even more of a bust than – ” The redhead took a moment to take in the situation before her. Buffy was talking to a woman in a gay bar, the two of them smirking over drinks as they spoke quietly to one another. She blinked a few times, just in case. “Uh… you made a friend?” Veronica shook her head.

“Something like that.” Buffy grunted, pushing off the bar. “I take it you didn’t get any nibbles at the line?” Willow grimaced.

“Not exactly. But let me put it this way; it’s no fish I’d wanna eat.” Both blondes grimaced at oddly symmetrical mental images they never wished to revisit. Ones that occurred to Willow far too late to stop the words from leaving her mouth. “Let me rephrase – ”

“Hey, Cherry!” a woman in a black leather vest and purple jeans called from behind her. The redhead’s face became pale, standing suddenly stock-still. Willow stared at Buffy pleadingly; the woman wrapped an arm around the young professor as she found her mark, “Thought I’d lost you out there. What say you and I find a quieter place to dance…?” she said, burying her nose in Willow’s neck and sniffing deeply. The blondes saw her visibly shudder. “God, Cherry, you smell good.” The creepy woman muttered.

“Hey! Amy Ray wannabe!” the woman looked up at the angry little blonde stepping into her personal space, “You wanna get your sweaty hands off my girl? Or do you want me to break them for you?” The stranger raised her palms and backed away, fading into the populace on the dance floor as Buffy wrapped an arm low around Willow’s waist, chuckling.

“What would you call that? Catfish?”

“More like a Mudskipper.” Willow groaned. “Please, take me home before I cave and call Kennedy for lack of better options?” she pleaded and Buffy chuckled as she turned them towards the door and started for it.

“Wait!” Veronica called, “We were about to collude?” Buffy barely glanced back over her shoulder in response.

“Find me tomorrow. And next time you decide to come out of the closet? Try a little bit more lipstick.”

Mac’s books were precariously balanced in her arms as she tried to close her door silently behind her. She and Parker had been up a bit late working, having first spent far too much time discussing Veronica’s new mission. Envying her roommate’s lack-of-class before two that day she turned to head down the hall.

“My game was so very, totally off last night.” A familiar voice bemoaned in her ear. Smiling, Mac turned to address the tiny, equally-sleep-deprived blonde.

“You went down, huh?” the girl stared at her, a pointed blankness in her expression. “I mean, you know - flaming?” the look continued. “I’m really not helping myself, am I?”

“Not a bit.” A smirk broke through.

“So, how bad was it? Which execution style; two in the chest or back of the head?”

“JFK.” Veronica grunted, passing Mac the extra coffee cup she’d been holding.

“Ouch,” the hacker smiled despite the unseemly visual, “Thanks.” She said tipping the warm drink back.

“Parker was right – good taste, not gay. Apparently the Good Professor Rosenberg went through a nasty break-up and is seeking solace. Summers is just the supporting cast.”

“Did you meet Ms. Rosenberg?” the brunette asked, as they took turns sipping and talking, “And are you sure you still want to come to this class with me?”

“Mac, I’ve been planning to come with you to this lecture since the semester started. Plus I already told my professor and I’m getting extra credit if I write a response to the topic. So yes to going, no to awkward - now lead the way!” she encouraged as they entered the Computer Sciences building.

They both laughed as they filed into the lecture hall. Everyone there looked equally tired, but not many were as put-together despite their attendance. It might have been the early-hour, but there were far too many computers with stickers for Serenity and BSG Fleet covering the symbols at the backs of laptop screens. It was equally hard for Veronica not to notice the way eyes were drawn to her and her companion.

“Wow,” Veronica muttered as they sat in two isle-adjacent seats mid-way down. “I didn’t know the Union of Allied Planets held debates on campus.” Mac shushed her quickly.

“Don’t get them started,” she warned, “Once we started discussing theories of social structure as a side-note and for the next forty-five minutes it was nothing but Jedi-this and Federation-that. It got pretty heated. I would have felt safer speaking my two-cents in a prison shower.” Veronica allowed herself a chuckle before pulling her computer out of her bag and opening it on the desk.

And, of course, no sooner had Professor Rosenberg arrived that she announced a pop quiz had been e-mailed to them on their campus e-mail. If the individual results were not returned to her inbox by the end of the period, well? She reminded them how poorly 45-percent of the class did on the last one, and a repeat performance would be ill advised. As the young teacher relayed this information with poignant eye-contact to her students in an attempt to display how serious she was, her vision fell on Veronica and Willow stumbled over her words briefly.

Veronica couldn’t help the smug smirk that came across her lips as she opened a web page, seeking entertainment while her fellow students took their quiz. When she glanced up amid the quiet clicking of keys within the lecture hall she saw that the redhead was on her cell-phone, obviously texting someone. And the next time she looked up? It was because there was a hand there on her shoulder.

“Ms. Mars, could you come with me please?” Shoving her computer into her bag hastily, she got up and followed her escort back into the hallway.

“Don’t get me wrong, getting pulled out of class will do wonders for my street cred - - but can’t this wait?” She asked the other blonde, leaning back against the Computer Sciences bulletin board.

“When I said ‘come and find me tomorrow’, I meant during my shift – not by stalking my roommate.” Veronica stood up a little straighter.

“Excuse me?” Buffy put her hands on her hips and cocked her head to the side, waiting. “I’m here for the lecture, Ms. Summers. Contrary to what you’ve obviously come to believe – you don’t lie at the center of my Tootsie Pop World.” Buffy actually let out a small snort of laughter at this.

“You’re here to listen to a lecture on the growing belief that dichotomous siphoning methods of organization are obsolete and best left to historical medical volumes?” Buffy asked in disbelief, “Yeah, because that has everything to do with studying the ology-of-criminals.”

“Actually,” Veronica said slowly, and Buffy’s expression faltered, “Some of the most effective ways of tracking criminals are digital. Facial recognition software, credit monitoring…Big Brother has its proven uses.”

“Just so long as Big Brother doesn’t go H.A.L. on us,” Buffy grumbled shortly, walking towards the doors back outside. Veronica followed, though she had a feeling she was being dismissed.

“So what are your hours?” she asked quickly as the older girl pulled open the door. “If you wanted me to find you, just telling me would save me the trouble of having to surveil you again.”

“Night ones. Willow teaches mornings mostly, I have classes in the afternoons, so, night is right for working.”

“You take classes?” Veronica asked skeptically. Buffy tugged on the lapels of her Hearst Security jacket self consciously, glancing around. “And is that how the song goes?”

“I’m not that old, you know.” She grumbled defensively, “And yeah, I student. Same as you.” She smiled bitterly at the younger woman as she started walking backwards down the stairs, “Some of us actually have to be taught these things. Not everyone is born with Federal Rules and Restrictions encrypted into their DNA.” Her expression hadn’t changed but Veronica was pretty sure what she had initially seen as hostility was actually more of a playful sarcasm.

“Who’d you kill?” Veronica asked once Buffy’s back was turned. She spun around.

“What?” Her expression was so seriously shocked Veronica tipped an eyebrow at her.

“For Landry’s class? Plan the perfect Murder?” Buffy actually sighed at this, chuckling.

“I haven’t had Landry yet. I’m still in Criminalist Theory.”

“Let me guess; reading a bunch of pessimistic authors with flower power? Utopia Theory? From Socialism, to Marxism, Nationalism, Lennonism, Maoism and back around to Capitalism? That kind of stuff?” Buffy chuckled and nodded.

“Well Psychology was my best subject last time I was in school so…” she squinted in the bright light of the sun as she stared at Veronica. Tugging her wrist free of her sleeve she pulled a pair of aviators out of her jacket pocket and put them on as she glanced at her watch. When she looked up she caught the smaller woman still gazing at her.

“Your lecture’s over.” She muttered, grinning as she turned and started walking away. Veronica spun around and saw people pushing their way out of the building.

“Shit.”

“Shopping list.”

“What?” she called after the equally small woman’s retreating form.

“Shopping list.” Buffy yelled, still waiting at the base of the steps. “What do you need from me? You tell me now and maybe I can have it ready for when you stop by.” Veronica jogged down the steps before glancing around at the bleary-eyed kids shuffling slowly out of the building.

“I want details about the different types of campus security and I want locations. I want to know what has video monitoring, key-pads, heavy-set security workers named Rocco with a criminal record – everything.” Buffy just blinked at her slowly.

“No.”

“What?” she knew she sounded snappish, but giver her a break! It was 9am, she’d been up half the night either plotting or failing to seduce this heterosexual woman in front of her, and now she was going back on a promise to share resources. “What do you mean no? Do we need to go over the definition of ‘collusion’?”

“No; because I know it would result in my being fired anyways.” Veronica scowled. “Look, I’ll do the research on the info you need. You ask me some specifics and then maybe I can answer your questions.” Veronica crossed her bare arms in the cool morning air. It was only fair; she couldn’t really expect some young woman to put her job on the line for a girl who was known to abuse favors from authority figures.

“What’s the case?”

“Client privileged.” Veronica answered on instinct. Buffy just smirked.

“Does that even work if you’re technically unlicensed?”

“If they’re gullible enough, and too naive to ask to see documentation.” She smiled.

“Which I’m obviously not,” she insisted somewhat impatiently. Veronica glanced around again as the last of the students began filing out.

“Vandalism in one of the science labs. I’ve been hired to try and recover the research that was stolen.” As she lifted her shades up onto her head, Buffy’s expression became serious.

“The 28 Days Later case?” The older woman asked. Veronica bit her lip to keep from smirking. Of course she’d thought up a better name for this case…

“That, and my dad’s been asked to look into Dean O’Dell’s death. He’s still considering before agreeing to the job but I think he’s gonna end up taking it.” Buffy nodded.

“Give me a few days.” She lowered her shades and shoved her hands into the backs of her jeans. “Fridays at lunch I’m usually the only one in the security office. By then everyone who doesn’t absolutely have to be there isn’t. Come and see me then.” Turning her back on the slightly younger woman again she started walking back towards the main campus.

“And I’ll make sure you get a copy of Will’s lecture notes.” She called behind her, “I’m sure your friend can fill you in on all the tech-y jokes you wouldn’t have understood anyways, Willow tends to make those up on the spot.”

Veronica shook her head as she tried to keep from smirking at her shoes. Much as she usually hated it when people got the upper hand on her – god help her, she thought it was funny when this woman managed to do it.

“Hey, what’s up? Where’d you go?” Mac asked, suddenly next to her. Veronica nodded and they started walking in the distant wake of Buffy Summers.

“That was her.”

Mac’s eye widened.

“Her, her?” Mac tried to clarify, hitching her messenger bag higher onto her shoulder. Veronica nodded. Mac let out a slow whistle. “Wow. She might be even better at stalking than you are.”

“Hey!” she halted, putting a hand at Mac’s elbow, “She may have a certain, admirable sneakiness, but she is not better.” Mac shrugged, and then needed to hitch her bag again.

“All I know is one second you’re next to me, the next you’re being taken away by Campus Security.” She let out a sarcastic ‘Hah!’ but kept walking.

“So, you gonna explain?”

“Why she pulled me out of class?”

“No,” Mac smirked, “The smile on your face when she left.” She prayed the Hacker didn’t notice her fingers slipping as they fumbled for her Sidekick. “She give you good news?”

“Uh, yeah, I think so. She told me where and when to meet her,” she pulled to a stop in front of a 70s-looking cement building. “Look, Piz is gonna get outta class in a few – I was gonna ask him to help us with our PHAT initiation.”

“You still need me and Parker for it?”

“Only if he says yes.”

“Which he will.” Before Veronica could refute the possible outcomes she continued. “You bring the sweatshirts and we’ll bring the iron-ons.”

“I have to meet Pauline and Gill Thomas first,” she said in a detached voice as she checked her phone; she’d received a text message saying there had been a second break-in. “There’s been a development.”

“Okay, I’ll go let Parker know… Assuming she’s up yet.” Veronica nodded and put her phone back in her bag. “And you’re explaining later.”

“What? The change in the case?”

Mac laughed, “The smile, Mars.”

The problem? She’d been kidding. Until she saw Veronica blink.

Veronica was still smirking victoriously when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

“So, he give you his number after seeing that flattering picture of you in the paper?” Turning around she found Buffy following the boy down the hall with his eyes. “You know, he sure uses a lot of ‘product’ for an animal rights fanatic…” she trailed off critically before turning a small smile on Veronica.

“Friday noon.” She sighed, crossing her arms quasi nervously – hoping it came off as a more begrudged vibe. “Here as asked.” After her talk with Mac, she hoped she was not as obvious to this stranger as she’d been to one of her best friends.

Buffy put her hands into her jacket pockets and jerked her head in the direction of the security office door behind them. Following she found that Buffy hadn’t lied; the place was empty. There were a few desks, a white-board, and a number of paper cups that had once held coffee strewn on every other surface with varying levels of emptiness. Veronica didn’t hide her sneer.

“Friday’s payday. The checks get printed in the morning and most of these guys like to grab ‘em while the ink’s still wet…”

“And you don’t?”

“Auto deposit.” Buffy came to a stop in the middle of the room and Veronica noticed her nose wrinkle a bit. “I mean don’t get me wrong, a crisp fifty-dollar bill has more appeal than a roll of moist, vertically-folded singles, but…” Buffy shook her head as she snatched an abandoned cup, squashed it in her small fist and chucked it perfectly into the bin at the far side of the room. “God this place is disgusting.” She shook her head, “Sorry about the mess. We had a meeting in here a few days ago to learn about the new regulations on room-raiding.”

“A few days ago?” she asked slowly. Buffy frowned.

“Let’s just say - I’m definitely the Officer Ursula Hansen of this outfit.” Veronica chuckled. “We’re in a passive-aggressive deadlock, but if this goes on much longer I’m going to put ground-up Imodium in the sugar bowl.”

Walking to the far end of the office, Buffy grabbed the knob to the only other door. “Come on, let’s step in here.” Veronica planted her feet and glared.

“A closet?” Veronica accused. Buffy raised an eyebrow. "Look, I know I read you wrong and apparently no matter how hard I try I can't pass for a believable lesbian, but I am not subjecting myself to any more gay-based mockery.” She glanced around “What - is the rest of security hiding, just waiting for my ass to get trapped in there?”

“Veronica!” Buffy shouted suddenly, opening the door wider and waving for her to enter. The younger woman saw now that while it was dark, there was a slight glowing coming from inside. Walking through, what she saw was a nest of six small TVs stacked in pairs on a card table that looked like it was about to buckle under the weight. Buffy closed the door behind them and walked to the folding chair across from the screens; apparently having already forgotten Veronica’s paranoid out-burst.

“Now the places with video security are… well, to be honest? The lamest. Not protecting the on-campus super computer, not in the labs where raw chemicals are kept, but where the checks are for the most part.” She leaned back and pointed to a particular monitor. On it she saw several of Hearst’s finest lined up in the narrow isles between cubicles in the Business office. “There is also a camera in the guest parking lot,” she said pointing to one on the end, “That was installed not because of the rapist but because a board member got the rims stolen off his car last spring.”

“And Audio?” Veronica clarified, leaning on the desk, trying to see if one of the security officers on the screen was really trying to fondle his nightstick in a flirtatious way while chatting up an intern.

“None. And no video at all dating back more than three days.”

“Three days? Seriously?” Buffy shrugged, slightly impassive.

“They say if someone’s got something serious to complain about, they’re gonna do it loud and fast so what’s the point.” Veronica tilted her head to the side as she nodded…. She had to admit, they did kind of have a point.

“And the rest?” The P.I. asked. Buffy leaned forward, her elbows on the desk and sighed as though this was a strenuous task.

“Any place one’d find a cash register. The book store, the Cafeteria, the Library – ”

“Uh, come again?” Veronica balked, putting a hand on the back of Buffy’s chair, cocking her hip to the side. Her expression was one of pure annoyance and disbelief. Buffy shrugged, a glimmer of a smile just visible in the glow of the monitors.

“You have a register in there.”

“It only has twenty-two dollars in it!” The young woman was becoming indignant. “Never mind the argument I could make about the growing obsoleteness of text materials in the digital age – but everyone with late fees pay on their Hearst Student Card!” Buffy managed to hold in a laugh at this, but her shoulders still shook a little in the repressing of it. Suddenly the glare was turned from the specific glowing monitor to the woman across from it in the dark room.

“Up until you made it abundantly clear that we were little more than Hearst’s three-hundred dollar toilet seats, people used to actually want this job – dispatch duty?” Veronica’s eyebrows met in confusion. This just made Buffy’s grin grow. “It happened last fall term too, checking out the cute new Cafeteria workers; scoping the Federal Work Study freshman…” she said the last part in sarcastic mockery of her co-workers, but couldn’t keep the disgust out of her voice long enough to finish the sentence.

Veronica stared at her, face noncommittal.

“Don’t over-think, and try to take it as a compliment. What else can you really do?”

“Oh, there’s plenty I can do – ”

“Narrow the plane of focus, please – don’t shoot the messenger.” Veronica gave a brief snort of sarcastic laughter, but her smile was genuine. “I looked into what little else I could remember you asking me from the other day. We have a fairly clean remaining staff – I say remaining for reasons obvious,” she smiled then leaned back in the folding chair, looking up at the standing young woman, “I think they hired someone for background checks after Hearst had their little Casino Royal, probably trying to cover there asses.”

“Little late.” She muttered. Buffy just shrugged,

“The American mentality is generally a reactionary one. But all that aside? The rest is just Key Cards and Codes. Those get stored in that Super Computer and copies sent to the Security provider - and they only relinquish the results at the Head of Security's request or at the 'behest' of the employer."

“That’s all? Easy. Two minutes, and he’ll be behesting anything I want.”

“There’s a catch though,” Buffy began, her face hesitant, “I looked into the school’s ground plans over in the Architecture and Design studios… The area you’re looking into? They’re all key guarded… anyone who had keys, access to said keys or even friends of people who had access to keys?” she trailed off delicately. Veronica groaned, realizing that the scope of investigation would grow ten-fold.

“What about in O’Dell’s case?” she asked, resigned. Buffy winced, sympathetically. “What?”

“I was talking about both.”

“Frak.” Buffy chuckled at hearing the word again. “It’s from a TV show, long story – ”

“Battlestar, I know.” Buffy smirked, and Veronica found herself blushing at being caught. “Willow loves the Sci-Fi channel, and since Fridays are the one night I don’t have classes? I’m usually home just in time to eat dinner with her on the couch and watch before going out and trying to find her a woman.” Buffy groaned. “Wow, my life sounds sad now that I say it out loud.” Veronica smirked as she pushed her hair back behind her ears.

“Okay, serious question this time,” Buffy began, “What did that Hipster want from you? Out in the hall?”

“I’d thought you’d been listening in,” Veronica sat perched on the edge of the desk that held the computers, the old tin table creaking slightly. “Doin’ it all for the Monkey. I believe you code-named it the 28 Dayes Later case? Still waiting on the Zombies, by the way… Anyways - We tricked Argent to prove our allegiance to the cause. They took the bait, so Mac and I have to meet them later for our official conscription.” Buffy got up and sat next to her on the desk. The table creaked ominously this time; they shared a look in an anxious silence as they both seemed to wait for the legs of the desk to buckle and give out. When almost a minute passed and nothing happened they started laughing.

“Well, therein lies that age-old Under Cover question – how deep are you willing to go for a case?” Buffy joked, her voice getting low and smoky, “And Mars – if they make you do something else of the rule-breaky-variety? Let me know? Or if there really are zombies. I do work dispatch, you know… I could divert resources, redact alarms, hell I’ll come to collect you if the rest doesn’t work – ”

“Wow, you could come in handy.” Veronica muttered, as though she’d just thought of it.

“Hey, you burn down the Chem. Labs? You’re on your own. You steal more lab rats, call me.”

...

As Mac and she left the gentle trap that Darla and Bronson had laid for them, Veronica’s mind was racing. Canada Canada Canada… What says Canada, she wondered?

“Veronica what were you thinking?” Mac groaned, worrying the strap of her bag in tight fists, “We didn’t even ask Parker! And it’s not like we can keep all the other obnoxious people from our suite out of our room and just let them in! That would be even worse when you add in the ‘creepy’ factor!” she rambled, talking more to herself than her companion who waved off her arguments with far too much ease.

“Please! Parker wanted part in this party from the beginning. She won’t mind. Besides, that little social butterfly? Her wings dun’healed – ready to head back into the wild, wild western front of Man Hunting.” Mac just raised an eyebrow, though she was still not done freaking out at Veronica’s invitation of the young Mr. Pope to her dorm room.

“We’ll figure it out, make it intellectual. Social commentary - like not changing anything in order to symbolize Bush’s great push for the Greater North American Nation. Play some music that’s a couple years out of date and put up some pictures of Northern wildlife… If that doesn’t grab that Mammal hugger’s attention, I honestly don’t know what will.”

More glaring.

“Wow, this is exactly like Canada,” Came a familiar voice behind her, “All that’s missing is a midget talking backwards.” When Veronica turned around slowly, she made sure her eyebrow was raised as high as possible. “What?” Buffy asked, expression almost frightened, “Did I just give away how ridiculously too old I am to be in this room right now?”

“Twin Peaks is a cult classic, never mind how much college students can appreciate Lynchian cinema,” Veronica stated firmly, sarcastically offended, “But our budget completely fell through after we bought the keg of Moosehead and the three bottles of Crown Royal.” Buffy cocked her head to the side. “I’m kidding! Like I would cop to my fellow 19-year-old freshman keeping alcohol in their room.”

“It disappeared within five minutes of opening the boarder.” Veronica quipped.

“For the record, I hope you did a thorough ID check.”

“And off the record?” Veronica asked stepping closer to the other small blonde so someone could pass behind her in the crowded dorm room. She didn’t step back.

“The bottles in the Russian room may say Stoli, but they have the distinct smell of nail polish remover… ’M pretty sure they bought a handle of the cheap stuff and just refilled an old bottle.” Veronica smiled at hearing this.

“Good to know.” Buffy just grinned. Reaching out and grabbing Veronica’s sleeve, she pulled her forward suddenly. It was a close call, but the stumbling boy behind the young detective caught himself before spilling all over Mac’s couch. Buffy chuckled. As if on cue the CD changed to Avril, breaking the potential tension of their close proximity as Buffy let go once again.

“Please tell me this didn’t come out of your collection.” The older blonde warned.

“Mindslave. She has an impressive Lohan compilation, but unfortunately the US is responsible for that unnatural disaster.”

…

“So what are you doing here?” Veronica asked, taking the opportunity to glance around the room for Mac while she pushed her hair back behind her ears. If the Hacker saw her with Buffy, she’d never hear the end of it… and feel guilty – she knew Bronson hadn’t shown up yet; they had done all this so that Mac would be the one to meet up with a certain someone.

“What? I didn’t strike you as one of those creepy, socially skewed people that keep hanging out with high-schoolers after they flunked out and never moved into adulthood?”

“Uh, we’re not high-schoolers anymore, and secondly -- I meant because it’s a Friday night? You said you don’t work Friday nights? Remember,” Veronica lowered her voice, leaning in a bit again, “… Battlestar?” Buffy chuckled at her remembering and shrugged.

“Something came up with Willow – so no visits to Velvet tonight. Since there was nothing I had to be home for... When I got offered a chance to do an actual walking patrol if I covered for a guy, I jumped on it. Can always use the extra cash.”

“You’re on duty?” Veronica’s voice was guarded. Buffy smiled, nodding.

“My partner’s out in the stairwell, waiting for people with cigarettes or people on cell phones to wander out of the suite with an open container – bonus points if they’re under-age.” She said cryptically, “You see, you’re RA filed for a Party Permit with the school… so unless someone complains? We can’t even enter the suite.” She winked.

“You seem like you’re pretty deep into enemy lines…” Veronica shoved her hands into the front pockets of her jeans, an inordinate amount of effort being used to keep her smile merely one of amusement rather than smitten. She hated it when she looked smitten.

“Made an excuse about needing to use the bathroom. I saw you talking to that brunette girl from the picture in the paper?” She trailed off.

“Mac,” Veronica filled in, “She was the one who brought me along to Willo - uh… Professor Rosenberg’s class.” She corrected quickly, realizing she should probably show the professor some professional respect – especially since they’d never really met. The older blonde just nodded. “It’s her room. There was a guy, in the case – some P.H.A.T. guy, the president… We were, uhm, waiting for him to show up…” she forced out, feeling her words becoming increasingly rambling and stammered the longer she spoke to Buffy.

“I forgot you didn’t live on campus. Hey – how did the recruitment go? I assume no call meant no problems?” Veronica nodded and knew she was blushing but tried to play it off.

“Yeah, it was fine. In fact, they played about as good a trick on us as we did to that Ed Argent guy. So? Lead ends in a dead end, all but.” She took a breath before finding herself saying, “You know, it would have been handy actually having your number if something had gone wrong…” Buffy raised an eyebrow for a long moment before holding out her hand slowly.

“Phone.” She muttered. Veronica reached into her back pocket and complied. Buffy couldn’t even figure out how to open it, so Veronica ended up procuring it back and taking dictation; oddly enjoying the sour look on the older girl’s face. “Hey, what’s the time?” Buffy asked once the last numbers had been entered.

“Eleven-fifteen, why?” Buffy’s eyes widened briefly at this before a sighed escaped her lips.

“Gotta head back out – partner’ll get wiggy if I’m gone too long.” She turned to make her way back out of ‘Canada’, Veronica seeing her to the door. Stopping herself with a hand on the doorframe, Buffy turned back around. Veronica was surprised to see the woman blushing and having trouble making eye contact. “Hey Mars? Would you be willing to… do me a favor?”

“Stamp your visa?”

“Nah, it’s kinda… bigger than that.” She started hesitantly. The younger woman waited as Buffy cleared her throat. “Well, there’s this club called Goldfinger’s and while it’s usually a straight place? Willow caught a rumor that on a Saturday night a fair few ‘Like Minded Individuals’ could be found, and… She asked me to go. I was wondering if you would be willing to be this wingwoman’s wingwoman…?”

Veronica was so surprised it took her a moment to get passed the fact that this older girl she found her self increasingly drawn to, was asking for her company while visiting a gay-friendly bar on a Saturday night. Taking a deep breath to try and get oxygen back into her brain, Buffy jumped in to recover the silence.

“Sorry. I just thought – it’s not the environment that seemed to throw you last week, it was the mission and you’re intel. And, I dunno… if I needed a beard, I could think of worse ones.” She smiled. “Besides, it’s not gonna be all women this time - you might meet a guy there.” She offered hopefully.

“What is it with the world and my single-status right now?” Veronica choked out in an awkward chuckle, “Is it such a foreign concept that I’m not looking? Where is it written that I have to be with someone?” she quietly shouted under the music so only buffy could hear. “Ugh… voluntary bachelortette-hood is not unlike social leprosy.” she grumbled. Buffy just smiled and nodded.

“Tell me about it, sister.” she glanced back over her shoulder and saw that she’d been given a wide birth. “Shit, I’d better go. Think the uniform is making you unpopular at this party.” Veronica shrugged it off.

“It’s cool – Mac asked for the room back anyway.” Buffy gave a brief nod and smile before backing out of the room.

“Call me if you decide there are worse things than accompanying me.”

And she was gone. Veronica would never understand how someone so distinct, whom her vision was so focused on, could disappear so easily in a crowd…

“So you didn’t feel safe enough coming alone?” Buffy shouted over the music, her grin playfully accusing. Veronica forced herself not to choke on her drink at this, shaking her head.

“It kind of spiraled!” she tried to explain, “The guy, the one we threw the party for? Parker stole his ID so that Mac would have an excuse to see him again…” She trailed off, sure that there was no way Buffy could hear what she was saying over the song playing – so she just sucked it up and moved to the seat next to the older woman, leaning to speak into her ear. “Her and Parker were brainstorming cover-stories for their Saturday night happenings, and since I was using their closets to accessorize anyways…”

She pulled back here to give the older girl an apologetic and slightly embarrassed smile and found that Buffy didn’t appear bothered at all. If anything, she seemed momentarily mesmerized by something on Veronica’s head. Reaching up, trying to figure out what it was broke the spell.

“You have amazing hair,” Buffy blurted, “I wish I had hair like that…” the smirk made a brief return as she reached for her tall glass of iced tea. Veronica blushed and stared down into her drink.

“I think the key is to never have enough hot water.” She put on a smile and pointed it at Buffy. “We live in this little apartment complex over on Seacrest – ”

“Really?” Buffy interrupted, “Will and I are about ten minutes from you, we’re on McAllister.” She sounded surprised. Veronica’s brow furrowed in thought. “We’re the second floor in a duplex. Willow and I wanted a bit of quiet, privacy.”

“To pretend your grown-ups?” Buffy smiled widely, nodding.

“Exactly. How’d’ya think we’re doing so far?”

Veronica nodded sagely. “You’ve got the mid-to-late-twenties lifestyle thing down flat.”

“Yeah, definitely feeling the flat - but flat works for me, I don’t need huge, mountainous teats … I mean, uh peaks, to climb… oh wow – way wrong word choice.” She said, starting to laugh at seeing the amused look on the younger girl’s face. “I think I’ve been gay-friendly-ing it too long. No wonder women in these bars keep after me, I’m just exuding subtext.” Veronica shrugged, sipping her drink through her little straw cutely.

“I can’t speak to your seducing the ladies with guttural double-speak, but I think part of it might be Willow’s dancing skills driving them away.” She nodded her chin to the redhead on the dance floor. She did indeed look a bit like a marionette in the wind, but her sweet smile softened the look.

“Maybe she could take a lesson from your friend,” she chuckled, looking at Parker not too far off – dancing it up with a guy and a girl at either hip. When Buffy glanced back at Veronica she saw that the younger woman was already looking at her, her gaze thoughtful.

“I think I get what you mean though,” she knew she must have said it too quietly, but the look on Buffy’s face let her knew the older woman hadn’t missed a word, “Like your life has been so full of stuff, you’re kind of wondering if it’d still be interesting if it just… slowed down a bit.” Buffy nodded, a wry smile breaking through, her eyes straying to the lips speaking for just the briefest moment.

“But life does have a way of keeping itself entertained,” she broke off, downing her drink. “Guess the happy just learn to laugh right along with it.” The funniest part, Veronica thought? Buffy’s grin held no hint of sarcasm or bitterness.

“How good’s your sense of humor?” Veronica asked, leaning chin on palm.

“Gettin’ better each day,” she conceded seriously, “Still a bit on the dark side – but regaining a sense of the finer points of slap-stick and stereotype… been on a Jackie Chan binge lately.” Veronica raised an eyebrow. “I said binge, didn’t I?”

“Come on! What decade are you in? Jet Li is the new Jackie! Romeo Must Die? The One? Unleashed? If it’s martial arts trash you want, these are gold.” The slightly older girl shifted in seat, eyes fixed on the table as she blushed… Veronica found her eyes wavering to the open back of the other girl’s halter-top.

“Way to make me feel like I should be collecting Medicaid… I swear, you call me Ma’am even once, I’ll never help you on another case again.” she finished with a glare. “Ooh! Owen Wilson!” she blurted suddenly, “Jet Li never did East-Meets-West with so much eye-man-candy… or jokes about Queen Victoria.”

“He also never sunk so low as to make a sequel.” Veronica pointed out.

Neither of them noticed the woman at the bar who’d been staring at them turn away at this point. Lucky for them, their amiable banter came so easily it kept them from having to enact their ‘Final Solution’: fake possessive jealousy. But, to Willow’s eye? The banter came a little too easily.

As Veronica made her way onto the sand of Dog Beach, she sighed and congratulated herself on successfully avoiding one Buffy Summers for an entire case. After the way the 28 Days Later case ended, having to return her check for the good of her conscience and knowing that a new Oscar was probably beginning the last phase of his life as a test-subject? She did not want to be bogged down in any more one step forward, two steps back situations.

The case of the Battlestar-Crossed-Lovers didn’t help either. Max the Cheat-Sheet Guru’s case of Hooker Lovin’ had… well, she didn’t know what column that conclusion fell into, to be honest. She’d gotten compensated for her work on the case, a young prostitute was liberated from the bonds of Pimpdom, and Max had gotten laid – but Max was still alone, the girl was now merely free-lance, and she’d been paid in vertically folded ones. Add in the fact that Mac and Bronson had finally gotten together, and it was becoming increasingly obvious that her good friend Piz had feelings for her? Throwing all the complicated feelings that Buffy brought into the mix was just cruelty beyond reason.

Letting Backup off his leash, she watched him run down the surf and then back again, panting happily. She took off her flip-flops and held them in her hand with the leash, the surf lapping at her toes. Backup pushed a piece of driftwood against her leg and she threw it up the beach for him, trying to keep him out of the surf. As she walked, she couldn’t help but think about Buffy and how long it’d been since she’d seen the older woman.

They’d had a lot of fun at the club. In fact, that was kind of why she’d made a point not to seek the other blonde out. Buffy wasn’t like that – she wasn’t like that, she reminded herself. But, sadly? Probably the most fun she’d had, going out dancing with someone in a long time. At this point Veronica tried to remind herself that the reason why every thing came so naturally and easily? Because there was no sexual tension. That just made things murky and awkward between people… especially two straight people.

She tossed the stick up the sand again, zoned out on automatic, until she saw that Backup had charged right past the stick she’d thrown some thirty feet ahead of her and was baring towards someone sitting in the sand. The large dog charged the teen down, knocking them over sideways and effectively pinning them down. “BACKUP!” she shouted, taking off after the dog, she held her breath and prayed that Backup’s training wasn’t kicking in on this poor girl he’d stampeded.

“I’m so sorry!” she called, approaching the girl in jeans and a hoody, “He’s not usually –” She cut herself off when she saw that Backup was licking the woman’s face mercilessly, the woman’s laughter surprised but amused none the less. No sooner than she recognized the woman’s voice than she thought Merely think of the Devil; sounding like a groan even in her own head.

“A little help here, Mars?” Buffy asked, gently trying to push the large beast off her lap. She paused as the dog submitted to having his head scratched. “So what did I ever do to warrant calling in the attack dogs?” she paused, frowning suddenly, her fingers stilling behind the dog’s ears. “Did you just call for backup?” she asked, confused. Veronica blushed, reaching down to reattach the leash. As she did, she showed the flattened girl the tag on his collar.

“His name. Backup.” She clarified, embarrassed. Buffy just laughed harder, picking herself up to standing, brushing sand off of… well, all over herself. She inverted the pockets of her sweatshirt and shook out the sand therein, still chuckling.

“He’s adorable.” She vowed. “Never could have a dog. Mom had allergies.” She reached down to keep scratching his ears as he sat restlessly. Veronica was sort of surprised.

“He likes you.” Her voice revealed her shock. Buffy shot her a look, as if to say why wouldn’t he?

“Would you prefer if he didn’t?” she asked, playfully.

“No, it’s just… well, he’s never just taken to someone like that. Even Wallace took time to adjust.” Buffy’s eyes narrowed, though she still had a bit of a smirk. “No,” Veronica cut off the thought, “My dog is not racist. He’s just very… protective.”

“Glad to know you haven’t trained your dog to maul me on sight. Though is that something I should beware of for the next time I see him?” she lightly accused. Veronica blushed again.

“Guess that depends, how often do you come to this beach?” Buffy raised an eyebrow.

“A sandy beach is nothing to be squandered, it’s precious.”

“It’s not exactly in season,” Veronica pointed out. Buffy waved this off.

“This is southern California – beaches are always in season here. They’re just not always sunny and warm.” Veronica choked up on Backup’s leash; he was fidgeting like he wanted to jump up but knew he shouldn’t.

“Well, isn’t that why people go to the beach? What makes them appealing? I mean, what else is there to do if naaaaaaaah!” Backup dove suddenly, bounding on Buffy and taking both blondes down in one leap. As Veronica landed face-first into the surf, Buffy was plowed over into the water backwards as well. As Backup scampered away whimpering a little, knowing he was in trouble now, there was a moment of silent, shocked awe at what had just happened between the two girls. Then Buffy chuckled nervously.

“Well, there’s always swimming.”

After the incident at the beach, both girls had hobbled home, their wet and shrinking jeans sticking uncomfortable to their skin as they waddled. They’d both agreed that, as Buffy’s apartment was the closest (and Willow wasn’t home and her father probably was) they would go to their duplex on McAlister to do a quick clean up. Veronica took the first shower, to get the sea water out of her hair, while Buffy would throw their clothes into a quick rinse in the washing machine. So, in short? Veronica was kinda trapped.

“Hello!” She heard called down the hall. That was not Willow, She decided. Veronica heard the door to Buffy’s room jerk open through the wall and could hear the small woman stomping through the hall towards the voice. “Hey! B! Long time no see! Well, not since Giles forced us into a room together again…” Veronica opened the door a crack and peaked out.

“What? No hello? No how are you, how have you been, when did you last have something to eat?”

“What are you doing here, Faith.”

“Kinda need a place to crash.”

“Shit.” Buffy muttered under her breath.

“What? Don’t have a place on the house roster for the Second String?”

“Now’s really not the best time for a house guest. I’m trying to… there are some things I’m… You can’t stay here Faith.”

“What?” Buffy demanded, “What did Willow tell you? Where do you get off’-”

“Oh, you know where I get off, B.”

“Shut up, Faith.” Buffy cut in, obviously exasperated yet oddly defeated. A long moment passed as Veronica pressed tighter against the wall in an effort to see further into the scene playing out before her. All she could see was the brunette, Faith supposedly. The young woman was staring fixedly at her feet, glancing in the direction of Buffy’s voice every few seconds. She eventually uncrossed her arms and started swinging them.

“I didn’t say you could!” Buffy burst out suddenly before cutting herself off in a harsh exhale that tapered off into a growl. Veronica felt the hair on the back of her neck shiver, a mix of fear and arousal at the sound. Her own reaction unnerved her; that sound was almost inhuman.

“We don’t have any guest bedrooms here, Faith.”

“So I’ll couch it.”

“And in so doing you’ll control our entire house!” She could see Buffy now, she was standing inches away from the curvaceous woman, an accusatory finger right in her face. “You’ll sleep in and force us to tiptoe through the kitchen in the morning, come home late and wake us when you slam the front door, leave your shit strewn around the living room, and usurp the only TV in the apartment!”

“You said that last time too!” Buffy shouted. Faith looked embarrassed for all of half a second, then shrugged as a smile slowly melted across her dark painted lips. Buffy set her jaw, obviously biting her tongue to keep from smiling back. She shook her head.

“Have you eaten?”

Veronica’s jaw dropped.

“Nah, B, I haven’t.”

“I’ll fix you something.”

Her stomach dropped too. This was bad.

…

“Are you going to ask, or is this going to be the most uncomfortable and awkward night I’ve ever spent in a car?” Buffy finally blurted out, her tone somewhat amused.

Well, Veronica couldn’t hide in that bathroom forever could she? Well, always… She’d tried. Then Buffy knocked to make sure she was okay. By then that Faith person was already sitting on the counter in the kitchen, taking such big bites out of a monstrous sandwich that she could barely speak to say “hello”.

Faith was kind of leery, and she cast a wink at Buffy that made both Veronica and the older blonde bite the inside of their lips… though she could only hope it was for the same reasons. Veronica had made some excuse about needing to go – that she was supposed to stake out someone that night and she should probably leave… But then Buffy asked if she could tag along and – Poof! Here they were.

Awkward as she might have felt, and as unsettled as this Faith person had made her, with her obvious past relationship of some kind with Buffy… there had been some sort of mildly pleading look on the older woman’s face when she asked to come with - like she was more trying to escape than anything else. She couldn’t really deny such a plea. But it also didn’t help that Buffy looked so human and fragile and cute when she did it.

“I can’t speak to any previous nights you might have spent in cars, but for the record? Stakeouts are rarely comfortable.” Veronica pointed out, not bothering to hide her annoyance anymore. “Ignoring the rest – what are you waiting for me to ask?” She was being petulant and immature but she couldn’t stop herself. It didn’t help that Buffy seemed immune to it; she’d been rude to her all evening and the older girl had glanced every verbal blow off of her with effortless ease. She was willing to spend possibly all night in a car with her, even though she didn’t have to, though there was no guarantee this would work. The fact that she could withstand her more unpleasant side made Veronica like Buffy even more, which in tern made her feel even more hurt.

“Whatever will kill that bug up your ass, Mars.” She said with a smile, her tone almost sympathetic. Veronica sighed and looked back out the window, making a pretext of keeping an eye for their mark. “Okay. Do you want me to guess what’s bothering you?”

“You know, this isn’t The View. The purpose of a stakeout isn’t to talk and there’s no real need for you to be here; why don’t you just go home?”

“What if you have to go to the bathroom and need a backup?” Buffy offered, “Or someone to run to the nearest corner store when you run out of gum? This takes more than an hour or two, you are gonna be glad I’m here.” Her voice was such a perfect balance of genuine and sarcastic Veronica didn’t know which one to believe. She glanced back at Buffy. The older woman caught her eye and smiled at her but she still didn’t know.

“Knowing your usual approach?” Buffy smirked, “Not what you really want to know.”

Veronica glowered and turned back to looking out her window at this.

“I was born in L.A.” Buffy almost murmured. Something about her tone kept Veronica from turning around. “Good family, good schools, but somehow I managed to find just enough trouble to get kicked out of ‘Most Perfect Life Ever’-High in time for my parents to split up. Dad stayed in L.A. while Mom dragged my sister and me to some small coastal town that might as well’ve been Neptune – had the tech industry gone under rather than flourished.”

“I didn’t know you had a sister.” Veronica said quietly, glancing down at her hands. Buffy chuckled briefly.

“Yeah. She’s finishing up at Berkeley this semester; one of those Design-Your-Own-Major majors.”

“How did you and Faith meet?” Veronica asked, unable to make her tone sound nonchalant, just flat. Buffy sighed pointedly, but it morphed into a laugh. Veronica looked at her and the quiet dragged between them as their eyes fixed.

“The day I started at my new school I met Willow. She’s always been a good person, and she and I and her best friend… the three of us kinda became inseparable. We always hung out in the Library – by a major default, initially - and eventually the librarian… Well, he became family to all of us. None of us had awesome dads, really. Not terrible, just not Norman Rockwell material. My mom sorta filled in a few of the mom-shaped gaps for them as well. She was pretty awesome about all of it for the most part. They were all great people, but because of my previous record at my former school I kept getting ‘bad crowd’ed. Paying for sins long overpaid already, I guess.”

“What do you mean?” the Youth-Sleuth asked. Buffy smiled, amused.

“New principal. The old one was giving me a second chance accepting me at all. The new one? Kind of a disciplinarian. So when something went wrong I got the blame and he tried to expel me. I was cleared, but only after my mom and the librarian really went to the mat for me. No sooner am I reaccepted to start my senior year than Faith shows up.” Buffy raised her eyebrows, her stair exasperated.

“She looks like trouble from a hundred yards away.” Veronica toned slowly. “So let me guess; she hears about your disciplinary record and thinks you and she might have some common interests?”

“Pretty much, yeah.” The older girl laughed, nodding. “Problem was? She’s trouble aright, but she’s mostly a good person. Though unlike myself she didn’t hide from trouble; once she got a taste of it she found she kinda liked it. All went down-hill from there, I guess.”

“Sounds like she and Willow don’t get along. Though I can’t imagine why.” Veronica said sarcastically.

“Oh can’t you?” Buffy asked, amused. “They don’t get along because they are abundantly aware of how much they have in common – which is a lot more than meets the eye. Their personalities just don’t click. Particularly the parts that really like me.”

“Willow’s my best friend and always will be, but she thinks Faith’s bad for me; can do nothing but get me into trouble or drag me down. Problem is? If everyone treats Faith that way, what other choice does she have but to just become what everyone perceives her to be anyways? When no one’s looking Faith is a good person. I dunno what I did or when, but she let me in and she trusts me… Little bit of patients and maybe I can convince her not be to such a complete jackass all the time.” Buffy finished, chuckling darkly to herself.

“She sounds like a real gem.” Veronica muttered, looking back out the window.

“She’s good to me. Saved my life more than once without ever having to ask. She’s loyal as a damn dog and that scares me.”

“Because dogs can be so easily manipulated. Let’s just say we’ve had our problems there, too.”

“Yeah, to say the least. She was ready to kill the-…” Buffy cut herself off, and Veronica glanced at her. The older girl was scowling, confused, staring fixedly in the side view mirror. “Uh, I thought we covered this the night we met?” Veronica shrugged and played it dumb, but she couldn’t help but notice: Buffy still wasn’t looking at her.

“Yeah, hey – my bad. Sorry… I guess, the way she was talking, and then with the idea in my head I just, you know, ran with it. The way you were talking about her

was—”

“Is that it?” Buffy mumbled to herself, her eyes narrowing in concentration.

“Is what that huh?” Veronica’s voice had bottomed out a little, not liking that she could be so easily ignored. Buffy still wasn’t looking at her. She had an awful feeling in the pit of her stomach but she was given no reply.

After a long moment Buffy’s head shot up, swiveling towards her. But the older girl’s eyes passed right over Veronica, almost through her. “That’s him.” She said simply, buckling her belt again. Following her gaze, Veronica saw a man on a cell phone coming outside. Rolling down her window and sitting low in her seat, she flipped on the sound-amplifier attached to her laptop. She could hear it quietly recording on the armrest and turned to look at the other woman.

“How did you know he was coming?” She asked.

Buffy looked at her incredulously. “Are you kidding? He was practically yelling into his phone. I’m shocked you didn’t hear him - you’re closer, Mars.”

(To Be Continued…)

“Don’t worry,” Veronica grunted as she shoved the Emergency Break down with a bit of excess force. “I’ve got an in with the Neptune Grand staff.”

They had been on another stakeout together, Buffy there to play her Second for more than a second time. Veronica had been trying to find out a few details for a case that, though Veronica insisted that it was not for friends or family, was too personal to share the details. Buffy trusted her discretion, and so the two freshman “CJ Majors” would stakeout and study. It was better than doing either alone.

But when the two girls walked through the entrance of the Neptune Grand?  Well, what an in it was. She was tall, pretty and blonde, and genuinely sweet. Good sense of humor too.  As Veronica asked her a few questions Buffy sat at one of the couches in the lobby not too far away. When she noticed the abundance of cleavage poking out of the girl’s uniform as she laughed, Buffy heard a creaking coming from her right hand. Looking down she saw she’d grabbed one of the small, starchy throw pillows and was squeezing it beyond the fabric’s tolerance. 

Biting the inside of her cheek sheepishly, she let go and tried to settle back into her seat as she put on a casual ere. Of course, no sooner than she was comfy than Veronica was standing there in front of her.

“Just have make one more stop. I have to check something with a disgruntled bellhop and then we can go.”

“A Concierge, a bellhop, a maintenance worker… I’m starting to feel rather pawn-ish. I don’t like it.” Buffy griped. 

Veronica scoffed. “Pawn? Hardly. While they may be pawns, a security officer is worth many-a-more points when captured.”

“So what I am to you?” 

Ignoring the obvious other possible answers, Veronica went with the analogy. “A Rook, at least.” At hearing this Buffy dashed in front of her and stopped, forcing the younger woman to halt in her tracks.

“Strange though our relationship may be, and all creepy age-difference references aside – do I look like I’d caught dead wearing one of those giant pointy tiaras let alone hold a seat in the Church?” Buffy demanded.

Veronica blinked.

“That’s a Bishop. I was talking about the castle-looking things.” Veronica clarified, “And the hat’s called a Mitre, for the record.”

“Oh.” Circumnavigating the confused woman, Veronica made her way into the kitchens. “Then why don’t they just call it a castle? Or a turret or a battlement?” Buffy asked.

“I’ll be sure to ask Bobby Fischer the next time I see him.”

“I thought nobody’d seen him for decades?” Buffy asked. Sighing, Veronica couldn’t keep the smile from her lips – so she made a point to keep Buffy from seeing it.

“Kind’a the point.” Veronica muttered. Wondering through the maze of aluminum tables and hanging copper-bottom cookware she kept her eyes peeled for the face of her petty classmate.

“Can’t I at least be a Knight? Way more self-explanatory, and rampant with future joke and ego-inflating potential.”

“I’m gonna go out on a limb and guess you were a checkers player, weren’t you?” 

Buffy shrugged at this as she looked around; though to be honest all she knew was that they were looking for a bellhop. “Nah, Naughty Scrabble. Way more entertaining.” Veronica snorted, trying to hold in a laugh.

“Fine you can be a Knight. But first you have to slay a dragon and save the princess.”

“Done and done.” Buffy sighed tiredly. Veronica finally stopped to look at her.

“Pardon?” she asked. Buffy just smiled in a way that reminded Veronica (on these rare occasions that she saw this particular grin) just how much of an age difference there was between them.

“I’ll have her call you to confirm.” The weird part was how serious Buffy’d managed to look while she said this. She nodded over the younger woman’s shoulder, noticing a boy in a stripped-vest uniform. He was putting together a tray of food on a cart. Veronica shook her head to tried and clear her thoughts. As conscious as they both were to never put words to whatever was between them, she felt kind of disappointed; Buffy hadn’t meant her.

To Be Continued…

Veronica had been working over-time lately. Literally. She’d picked up some late shifts at the library, closing it most evenings, as an excuse to have access to books on reserve after hours. The man that had replaced Landry was somewhat… Petty. He didn’t like competition, so naturally he hated her. Add in what was going on with the Hearst Basketball team? The Barry family and Josh’s plea for her help? Yet more stakeouts… and she’d had to do this last one alone.

He father had been called away on a Bail Jumper and asked her to watch Mrs. Barry’s house to see if anything suspicious was going on. Buffy said she needed to get some stuff done around town that night, so Veronica has spent a boring evening in her car until Mrs. Barry herself took pity on her, having walked out to her car, and sent the young PI-in training home. Veronica figured since she was up anyways, and she knew Wallace would be pulling an all-nighter working on his mid-term project, she thought she’d drop in and watch him work for a bit – maybe bring him a Redbull. She was half way to the Architecture building when suddenly the hairs on the back of her neck started to become undeniably standing on end.

“What are you doing out so late?” finally came the voice from behind her. Veronica had felt the vibrations of his foot-steps just behind her for what felt like forever, or at least since she’d left her car in the parking lot, but every time she’d looked over her shoulder she had been alone. The campus was silent and dark and though she couldn’t hear the footfalls, she had known she was being followed, watched…

Glancing around she realized that she and this sudden stranger were standing on the walk in front of the Technical Engineering center, the vast deserted quad behind them. She’d glanced behind her just seconds ago – she’d been alone… where had this man come from? Glancing at his clothes she saw this thin, ropey man was wearing a Security uniform, but not for Hearst College. She knew those uniforms well - this looked like a cheap knock-off. Why would someone even want one?

“Miss? I asked you a question.” He pulled out a long MagLite from a belt loop serving as it’s holster and shined it into her face, hostel; his voice was full of false concern and temper. “Ma’am, have you been drinking this evening?” The hairs on the back of Veronica’s neck seemed to be screaming at her all the things that were wrong here, making answering the man a little hard. Her mind was trying to piece together all the clues that her instincts were pointing out but the answer just would come – like a stalled engine, she stood there. And she could feel the man’s agitation growing, making her body all the more anxious as she raised a hand and blinked away from the light.

Through the glare of the bulb she could just make out a corner of his mouth turned up in a grin.

His large, yellowing teeth reminded her of the wolf in Little Red Ridding Hood and it was then her heart started pounding. This was a nightmare, her mind decided, something was happening here that was too off to be real. She was still in her car outside Josh Barry’s house having accidentally fallen asleep… it had to be -

“Veronica get inside.”

Whipping around, there on the bottom step to the Engineering labs stood Buffy. She too seemed to have come out of nowhere – just appearing, silent and unseen. Veronica stared hard at her but Buffy’s eyes never left the lanky man. She dashed over to the blonde and only when she was at the older girl’s side did she glance back at the stranger. Veronica was surprised to see he looked about as ready to make a run for it as she was. Clicking off the light and changing his grip, he held it at his hip like he was going to have to hit someone with it.

“Veronica!” Buffy almost barked at her, eyes still fixed but attention divided. “Go, get inside – far inside – and don’t turn around. Follow the lit walks until you make it to Wallace’s or Mac and Parker’s. Don’t stop running.” Veronica nodded and glanced between the two locked gazes. “Now, Mars.”

Her body wouldn’t wait to be told one more time. She’d been held at gunpoint, repeatedly drugged, tazed, purposefully crashed her own car, and set on fire. By far what scared her most about the whole thing was Buffy’s tension. It was one thing to have moments of illegitimate, paranoid fear – but the woman’s appearing from seemingly nowhere and reacting the way she had…?

This thought made Veronica stop. As soon as she was through the doors she pressed herself back against the inside wall, all thoughts of seeking out Wallace as she’d originally intended now gone. She watched through the small glass panes in the doors as Buffy approached the guy and he backed away, raising the MagLite. They circled briefly, speaking in hushed voice that Veronica would have had no hope of hearing from this far. Then like lighting they were exchanging blows, Buffy armed only with a nightstick or billyclub. It was very fast and extremely violent.

Veronica dove into her bag, retrieving her camera once again. Using the zoom and focus to try and see better, she was shocked when Buffy suddenly seemed to spin on a pivot and her foot hit the man in the side of the head with such force he landed face-down on the ground. She saw him climb back to his feet quickly, as his face appeared once again within the plain of focus on her viewfinder - she was shocked to see his face had contorted monstrously after hitting the ground.

About half as shocked as she was when Buffy shoved her nightstick right through his chest until the tip was poking out the other side. So shocked, in fact, she’d pressed down on the capture button. As the clicking of the electronic shutter sounded loud in the empty hall, she looked up in time to see what used to me a man blowing away in the wind as his body never quite made it to the ground.

It was about a moment later that she realized Buffy was turned towards her, as though she could tell Veronica had seen. Tucking the weapon into an inside pocket of her coat as though it were nothing more than her wallet, she started walking slowly towards Veronica’s hiding place. Throwing the strap of her bag over her head, turning around Veronica ran blindly, finally following through on the second half of Buffy’s instructions. Staying on the lit paths she booked it all the way to Mac’s, never stopping to look behind her, nor slowing down to see if the older woman followed.

“Veronica...not that I’d ever tell you what you should or shouldn’t do, because, well, you’re you, and that look in your eye? Means you’ve already made up your mind, and I’m just here for background color.” Mac got up off her bed and stood with her arms crossed. “You can’t help it, can you? You’re like my nine year old cousin. My aunt says he can’t watch his damn Yu-Gi-Oh DVD for the fiftieth time, but he just says screw it, and once she’s gone...” She managed to smile despite the situation. It was brief.

“Explain how a Japanimation analogy works in this context.”

“Exactly – it doesn’t. That’s the point. This is something else entirely. This is… so far beyond Aaron Echols. It’s more like that horror movie he did.” The detective had to agree – she was out of familiar waters here.

“‘Fangs for the Memories.’ Classic.” Veronica took a beat. “So what am I supposed to do? Just forget?” when Mac didn’t answer right away she was shocked to realize that the computer genius was actually considering it. “Mac, this isn’t something that I can just fade out! Do you have any idea what I just saw tonight?”

The brunette leaned back and glanced at her computer screen once more. The image from Veronica’s camera lay bare and enlarged, the high pixel resolution allowing for undeniable detail. Much as she might boast about it in a more humorous situation; Veronica had perfect timing. The captured image even allowed the viewer to see the area around the weapon – what they were both refusing to name –as it turned to ash and moldy-looking dust.

Night time, silent stalking, the teeth she’d seen in the lamp-light, his face when he’d been given the round-housing of his (un?)life… then there was the piece of wood (they had determined to was wood and not an impact baton only after closer inspection of the image) being shoved into the heart of what was clearly some kind of super-natural… thing. Noooo – no one had ever used the term ‘Vampire’ in this room, hell no… But the thought was running rampant.

There was a knock at the door.

The two girls glanced at each-other. Parker was in Mexico with Logan for the weekend, Wallace was pulling an all-nighter in the modeling studio and Piz was filling in at the radio station.

“It’s Buffy.” Came through the door in a strong voice. Veronica turned and jumped away from it as though she’d just been told it had ‘The HIV’. The two girls started mouthing frantically to one another, gesturing at and thinking the other understood – but they were both doing it at once and getting nowhere.

“Look, I’m off duty so if you’re trying to hide alcohol or whatever don’t bother – it’d be harder for me to explain what I was doing searching a student’s room off hours without cause…” Veronica slammed Mac’s laptop shut and dove into Parker’s closet, shoving all the hanging coats aside. Waving Mac towards the door with a look of panic she closed the closet all but a crack so she could listen. Mac opened the door.

Framed in it, looking oddly smaller than usual, Mac could see what she hoped Veronica could only hear.

Buffy’s natural confidence that made up for her diminished size seemed gone from her. Oddly, after all that had happened tonight, she seemed so much more human than before: fragile and flawed. Mac held her breath as Buffy took in a long, slow breath, “I only have three questions, so I won’t be long.”

Mac nodded.

“Is she here?” Buffy asked quietly.

“Veronica? Nope.” She said, shaking her head and tilting it to the side, trying to feign casualty. She’d blown it – she over did it by drawing the words out too long. Buffy nodded, and the trace of a smile that there’d never been? Now it seemed even more absent. They both knew Veronica was in there.

“Is she alright?” she asked, a bit flat. “Physically.” She clarified and a bit of that human weakness snuck in again.

Mac nodded again at this, the “yeah” coming out in a genuinely relieved sigh. The older girl nodded too, trying to say she understood.

“Will you take care of the rest? You know, the non-physical part?” Mac smiled briefly and started closing the door. “Thanks Mac.” She muttered, turning to go.

“Buffy?” Mac called. The older girl turned around and stopped. “Thanks.”

Buffy made her way down the hall, not saying anything. When the brunette closed it again she found that Veronica had extricated herself from amongst the halter-tops and jackets.

“God that was scary.”

“She likes you.”

“What?” Veronica demanded, angry.

“She didn’t have to come here; she didn’t have to see you. It was a risk and she did it any way.”

“Hell yes she did!” Mac said gesturing at the door, “She-”

“Because you are the worst liar ever! That was embarrassing!”

“Veronica!” Mac cut in, “She cares about you. She obviously knows that you know – hell, she probably followed you here!” she got out in a rush “The point is, she was reaching out. She wanted to make sure you were safe because, yeah danger, but also ‘cause she wanted to make sure you were alright – you know, with her?”

Quiet stretched out in the room and Veronica still had her arms crossed, disbelieving. It was then that Mac realized something: for all the good that Veronica’s determination and resolve brought to her that was good? It certainly had a flip side. She’d convinced herself that whatever feelings Buffy had for her were not the kind she had for Buffy. She was a great detective, but when it came to the Case of the Girl with an Overly Broken Heart, Veronica only seemed able to collect evidence that supported what she wanted to believe. And not what was true.

“Look, all I’m saying is, you might want to try another approach.”

“Such as,” Mac reiterated, losing her patients, ““Don’t shine a light in her face, get her blind, and then subject her to the ‘Veronica Mars’ ninth degree.”

“She’s not a bad guy, Veronica. Or a case. For some reason, she almost cares about you, so just, try to trust her? A little? Don’t find the facts by yourself just so you, I dunno, can trap her in a lie or something. She saved your life tonight. For once, don’t be who you usually are, and endanger it again. Just try talking to her instead. Hear her out.”

“Oh frak.” Veronica breathed, suddenly so very, very sorry. How many alleys had she walked down? How many shady places in this tiny little town had she seen? How many men with feet of advantage over her had she managed to take down before? She’d lost count – and this one wasn’t backing off so easily.

When Veronica followed this stranger down a narrow patch of street, she’d thought he was trying to lose her. When he’d disappeared somehow in the blind alley they were now in, she’d been sure it was just a matter of him knowing a way out that she didn’t. But when he’d appeared from nowhere – just as her previous Midnight Stalker had? Well, the satisfaction of knowing she’d found the right mark was short lived. Veronica was pretty sure she’d drained the battery pack of her taser before she realized it was having no more effect than a bee-sting.

His hands were frozen and hard, his clutching fingers gripping her jaw and clamping it shut as he forced her head back and away from his metallic-smelling lack-of-breath. Veronica didn’t feel the heat of his breathing on her neck but she knew that if he’d been alive she would have for that one brief moment. Through the corners of her now watering eyes she saw inhuman, animalistic teeth for the second time.

And just as Veronica felt the flesh of her neck give to the points of his fangs, it was his head being jerked around and to the side. A loud series of pops echoed off the surrounding brick walls, sounding like knuckles cracking or cartoonish bubbles bursting. At the exact same moment a jagged piece of wood was shoved into the Stalker’s chest and his body was shoved away like an unwelcome advance. He burst into that sickly green ash the moment his body mad contact with the cement.

The look on Buffy’s face was a disappointed rage. It softened again so quickly Veronica seriously wondered what could have happened. Reaching out a hand to the younger woman’s shoulder and one at her collarbone –just where the man’s hands had been – Buffy’s gaze became far more focused than merely on her distressed damsel but specifically on her neck.

“I got it.” She muttered, and out of an inside pocket of her coat she produced a roll of gauze. Not even unrolling it she pressed the bulge of it against Veronica’s neck. It was at the wound whinging that she remembered that the thing had actually managed to bite her. The lump in her throat, the ache in her chest and the hot tears in her eyes at seeing Buffy there at just the nick of time made fine misdirection. She felt it now. “I got you.” She said again quietly, and Veronica doubted if the woman knew she’d even said something entirely different.

“Hospital.” Buffy said, lifting the cotton and checking the bite. Veronica’s eyes widened. “It’s not that bad,” the older woman assured, her tone disappointed even if her expression had changed. “But, he was squatting in the store-room of an old factory and feeding off Meth addicts. Blood tests and some antibiotics – just to be safe. Besides, some painkillers might not go amiss. Sometimes, the shock…” she trailed off not wanting to finish that sentence. Veronica felt Buffy’s hand on her upper-arm give a comforting squeeze.

“I know what he was.” Veronica said, trying to get Buffy to look her in the eyes, trying to get her strength back and her body to move. It worked.

“I very much doubt that.” Buffy replied, the voice of I’m so much older than you should ever be surfacing again. The hand slid down her arm and into Veronica’s bag, taking her keys from their hiding place in an inside pocket. Turning around and nodding to the mouth of the alley Buffy made no sign of letting go of the bandage at Veronica’s neck.

(To Be Contniued…)

“Sit.” Buffy ordered, and Veronica – feeling far too much like a child waiting outside the principal’s office –complied.

“I need forms!” Buffy barked impatiently at the half-asleep nurse, playing SNOOD behind the plastic partition. Reaching over, the middle-aged nurse shoved a clipboard through the narrow opening towards her interrupter –and all without lifting her chin from her palm. Buffy stared at her for a moment before sighing, shaking her head and walking back to the plastic chairs. Veronica watched her as she flipped through the attached pages in a way that read all too much familiarity.

“Why are we here, exactly?” Veronica asked. She lifted the gauze again to check the bleeding; it had stopped. She tried not to squint in the bright, florescent lighting as it bounced back up at her from the white tile floors. Her eyes lingered on the patches of grout where stains lingered. Buffy tossed the stack of papers into her lap.

“Pick an alias, one your dad won’t be able to readily decipher. A pop-diva maybe.”

Veronica thought for a moment before scribbling down a name.

“We are here because if we go to the regular ER then this’ll be on record – both on your Hearst Student Insurance and on file at the hospital. He may not be actively checking now, but it might be safe to make it as hard as possible for your dad or anyone else to just stumble upon this information.” Buffy leaned her head back against the wall. “Besides. They don’t check IDs here… Beauty of a 24-hour free clinic.”

Veronica knew and agreed with all these points, but her eyes still strayed from the bullet-proof nurses’ station, then to the chair opposite them which possessed a sad looking stain on it’s seat.

“The doctors are still doctors, and you’re not that poor off anyway.” She muttered by way of reassurance before leaning back forward away from the wall. Indicating for Veronica to turn towards her in her seat, Buffy’s vision focused on her bite. As the older girl’s fingers rested along her collarbone Veronica was suddenly glad they were alone in the waiting room. “Yeah, this isn’t so bad… Couple of butterflies.”

“Excuse me?” Veronica asked. Did that come out kind of breathy? She didn’t mean for it to.

“You won’t need stitches,” Buffy clarified, “That’s my guess. Prob’ly just a few of those little butterfly bandages to help them seal. You’re lucky, too, not very high on your neck… You might get out of this without one of those ever-conspicuous turtle-neck phases.”

“And scarves.” Veronica added.

“And hooded jackets.” A small smile returned to Buffy’s lips for the first time briefly in… well, too long in Veronica’s opinion. “All of which would be hard to convincingly pull off, winter though it may be… Neptune is just too warm a place for such a repeated wardrobe to be casual.” Buffy sighed at this, almost nostalgically. “Wearing a hooded sweatshirt with the strings lightly pulled so it sits higher on the shoulders.” She chuckled, “Ah, high school… hickies… normalcy… I sometimes forget what it was like to not be weird.” She’d pulled her hand back but remained leaned in to her companion.

“I’m starting to feel convinced I never really was.” Veronica mumbled.

“You’re miles ahead of me, Mars.”

Veronica restrained the urge to shake her head and laugh, instead taking aim and tossing the used roll of gauze into the wastebasket in the opposite corner.

“I will admit, however: I never thought I’d be hiding my neck because of something that could genuinely pass for a monkey bite.” Buffy nodded, holding in a chuckle.

“There you go – your cover-story. Just say you were checking in with Gil Thomas and his little friend Oscar got a little too friendly.

Just then a haggard looking doctor walked out of the sealed doors. He was leading a man with such thick bandages wrapped around his forearm the girls wondered if it was all that kept it attached. Watching the man leave, they felt the exhausted doctor’s eyes on them.

“No.” Buffy said solidly, pulling herself out of her chair, “But I know her.”

“Well, come on in miss….?” He waited for Veronica to fill him in.

“Underwood.” Veronica blurted, “Carrie is fine.”

“Of course it is,” he sighed, holding open the self-locking doors for them. Veronica raised an eyebrow at Buffy out of the doctor’s live of vision. They followed him into the back. “I see that crazy homeless person is still out nibbling people…”

Buffy’d been right – there were no stitches; four of those little pinching strips and a layer of gauze later, the doctor was asking where the blood-test results should be sent. Veronica was shocked when the older girl gave him a real address. Buffy’s address to be exact. The two women hadn’t spoken since being led into the examination room, and that didn’t change when Doctor Sheehan left to get her antibiotics.

Maybe it was the late hour or taking pills on an empty stomach – or possibly the codeine in the Tylenol 3 she’d been given – but during the car ride home Veronica started to feel a little loopy. Buffy must have noticed it too. She kept glancing over at Veronica with this almost sad and vaguely worried expression on her face. It wasn’t until she was sitting on Buffy’s couch in her strangely empty apartment that Veronica realized – Wait, what am I doing in Buffy’s apartment?

She could remember being in the car and staring out the window, but it never registered what direction they were heading in. She remembered the car pulling to a stop and Buffy getting out, then following suit… up the walk, through the front door, right onto the couch where Veronica curled up with her chin on her knees.

She’d been trying to still the world and her swimming thoughts so she closed her eyes. She felt the depression of the couch as Buffy sat down next to her only a moment later, hearing her breath being sighed out as she did. The feel of the older girl’s hand soothing over her hair felt so calming that it seemed to bring her back into reality.

This is not her home, this is not her place, Buffy is not the person in whom she should seek comfort… So how had getting to this place felt so easy, so natural in it’s progression?

“You’d still be exhausted at four in the morning –never mind the kind of night you’ve had.” Buffy said quietly, voice rough. She felt like Buffy was doing her a service, not whispering. She would have felt belittled. “I heard your dad’s out of town on a case, and you shouldn’t be alone. If you want I can drive you back to campus; crash with Mac and Parker, or Wallace – But considering what you’ve been through? Thought it might be good if your company could, you know, follow along.”

Veronica shook her head but made no move to get up. “I’ve been through worse.” She muttered, wishing Buffy would stop doing that thing she was doing with the backs of her fingers against the nape of her neck.

“Death had it’s hands on you tonight.” Buffy stated seriously, her fingers finally still. “You sought it out, stalked it. It had you and would have killed you and no one would have known where you were or what you were really doing.” Her tone was disappointed and a little angry but her volume remained gentle. “You were damn lucky I was there – but hear me on this,” she insisted suddenly. Veronica lifted her head from where it’d been resting and opened her eyes so she could look at her. “I will never have that much faith in you again” she vowed.

“What?” Veronica asked, confused, suddenly free of the spell the older girl’s serious words had lulled her into. Buffy sighed and turned towards the younger blonde on the couch, keeping a leg tucked under her.

“I was stalking you.” Buffy stated, as though it were the most obvious conclusion. “You’ve been avoiding me since the other night on campus, and your track record doesn’t exactly scream healthy-acceptance of the freakish, scary and dangerous.” Veronica just stared. “Look, you don’t want to see me? Fine. I can understand that! But I knew that, in your mind? That left only one way to find the answers to questions you couldn’t seem to let yourself to ask me.”

“So… you stalked me?” Veronica clarified, half mocking sarcasm half disbelief that she’d not noticed.

“Uh - - Yeah!” Buffy challenged right back, as if to say My logic is just as wonky as yours! “You were gonna find out, it’s what you do,” she began, conceding, “You take pride in it, and you are very good at it. And I knew I couldn’t talk you out of it –especially if you refused to talk to me!... So I figured, why step on your gumshoes?” both girls looked a bit sheepish here, though the other probably didn’t really know why. Buffy let her arm fall along the back of the couch as she once again connected gazes with Veronica.

“Uh – Hello!” Veronica shouted, pointing at her bandaged neck. Buffy actually rolled her eyes.

“I was trying to give you a chance! I mean, you are a bit of a control freak -”

“Well? You are! You hate not being in charge, the fastest, the most well-informed -”

“You’re a smart girl Veronica! How was I supposed to know that all you brought with you was a taser?” Now Veronica really did look sheepish. But the smile on Buffy’s face grew slowly as she raised her hand, brushing her fingers back and forth against the back of the young P.I.’s neck. For a long moment Veronica indulged in this simple, easy intimacy before it struck her - - that’s what this was. Reactively, she shrugged away from the pre-offered comfort.

Buffy froze, her fingers stilled.

“Stop it.” Veronica said quietly. For a moment that stretched languidly like a cat between them Buffy remained still with her eyes lingering, focused on Veronica. The atmosphere had taken a turn for something unknown and the older woman was trying to gage where this horizon could possibly lead.

“I’m sorry.” She began. Veronica felt suddenly fidgety and hugged her legs tighter to her chest to resist the urge to give away her unexpected nervousness. “I wasn’t letting you get hurt to make a point, I really thought you had a better handle on the situation than you actually did -” she stopped abruptly, and Veronica worried that maybe this time Buffy would stop seeing just the surface in their moments like this. The older girl was too good at seeing what was real with her to not know the root of all this tension. “Sometimes I forget what your limits are.”

Buffy had said things like this to her before, and though she knew they were a kind of compliment on her ability, strength and intelligence they were always in situations where she’d somehow fallen short in Buffy’s eyes… and nostalgia. She was definitely picking up on some kind of nostalgia in there as well. Either way, it never really made Veronica feel better.

“I’m only human.” Veronica muttered, staring fixedly at her knees. That was as close as she wanted to get to admitting any more vulnerability tonight – and if Buffy couldn’t see it as that well, then… maybe she was glad Buffy couldn’t see what was really making her uncomfortable after all.

Hearing Buffy chuckle at this brought such a sudden wave of ease Veronica audibly sighed.

“Well thank god for that… You should count your blessings, Mars.” Veronica glanced at her out of the corner of her eye and saw that Buffy had this wide, genuine smile. She smiled back. As she did so, she felt those fingers on her neck return and that happy feeling melted right out of her again. She shrugged away.

“Please stop.” She said more quietly, and yet was somehow more effective this time. Buffy drew both her arms back into herself, crossing them a little awkwardly over her chest and stood up. She paced for a moment before stopping in front of Veronica.

“Willow and Faith decided to take a trip up to San Francisco and had no idea how long of a drive it actually was, so they’re not gonna be home tonight. I’ll get stuff to make up the couch for you – you can watch TV if you can’t sleep, and there’ll be no one to wake so -”

“Are-are you going to bed?” Veronica asked, finally releasing her legs and scooting to the edge of the couch. Buffy nodded, pointing vaguely over her shoulder with her thumb.

“Uh, yeah. I might take a shower first, get that ammonia-alcohol hospital smell out…” she trailed off, turning to look in the direction of the bathroom as it was pointedly away from Veronica herself. “You’re free to take one first, I know you love the fact that we

don’t run out of hot water here -”

For some reason this just made something in Veronica snap. She couldn’t take this anymore; the tense muscles, the averted eyes, and worst of all – the pretending to not understand exactly what the other was really saying because of some idea of politeness or courtesy. So she straightened her back, griped the couch cushions in her now tight fists and took the first step.

“I changed my mind.” She said solidly, calmly. So solidly, Buffy looked confused – as she had no idea how this statement related to their previous conversation. She, after all, had not been privy to the exchange in Veronica’s head.

“About what? You want me to drive you back to Hearst?” Buffy asked, trying to clarify. Her misunderstanding was genuine this time. Way to go Veronica – you take the first step, and stumble…

“No, I – About-” She resisted the urge to groan in frustration, “At Velvet, the night we met? I’d stalked you, and the entire time you hade me made. It threw me off my game, which granted was not at it’s best that night anyway - but what completely derailed me was you asking what I wanted. And I didn’t have to succumb to outing you or to blackmailing you, you just offered. You just seemed so intrigued by the lengths I went through, it was like you’d thought I’d already earned it.”

“I remember having to ask you a few times what you wanted.” Buffy said flatly, her tone non-committal.

“You asked me why I was there, and what I wanted from you,” Veronica said slowly, trying to fight that urge to just shut up and run – she’d made her choice. She was sick of this. She could suffer the pain of embarrassment and vulnerability by putting herself out there, especially if it stopped the continued tension… one way or another. “You wanted to know what would be worth the lengths I went to, just to get next to you. We agreed to collude,”

“Veronica,” Buffy cut in, raising a hand to try and top her.

“No – Buffy, I’m changing… this.” She forced out vaguely. She stood up, facing the older girl. “I want,” she began, taking a deep breath. “I want a partnership.”

“You don’t play well with others,”

“I do with you.”

“Mars,”

“Stop!” she shouted, “Buffy, please! If it’s not what we know this is, then what is going on?” she shouted. “You and I? Never a misunderstanding since we met – we know what’s between us. We keep finding ourselves here, but then we avoid it – and the more we do that? The faster the road back!”

Buffy ran a hand over her hair. Turning, she sat heavily on the arm of the couch, not saying anything. Veronica knew she was trying to come up with some kind of explanation that wasn’t the truth.

“Buffy I’m not asking for things to change completely – I just want to hear the words, to know I’m not crazy.”

“You’re nineteen years old.” Buffy blurted, her tone one of mild disbelief.

“Which means I’m legal,” she tried to insist.

“Legal? Just because it’s legal doesn’t make it right.” Buffy countered, raising her head. “Veronica, you don’t even know me. A week ago,” she scoffed “Hell – there were a lot of things you didn’t know about a week ago!”

“I want you.” She finally said. Buffy became so still Veronica wondered if she’d channeled Evie Ethel Garland for a moment. “I’m saying I want you, not that I love you or I want to marry you or even that I’m gay – I’m just saying that I want you and it makes being around you hard because there are times when,” she let out a shuddering sigh because Buffy was still frozen and hadn’t moved. “There are times when I want you, and I feel like you want me too… But we never do anything about it, and I don’t know why.”

“And you never were?” she shouted back – now she was really irritated! But at this Buffy seemed to break and she looked down, shaking her head.

“No, you’re right. I was your age once… and that’s why-” she cut herself off here. She cleared her throat and Veronica was shocked to realize – Buffy was actually upset. Her eyes unfocused like she was trying not to get emotional.

“When I was younger than you,” Buffy stated carefully, starting again, “I dated someone even older than I am now.” She glanced at Veronica and saw her grimace, “Whoa! No! Not, like, grave-robber old! Just – you know, older.” She corrected. “And at that time – I loved him so much. Like, world-ending illogical love that you’re only in when you’re 16 and stupid, you know?” Veronica nodded. Yeah, I guess you could say Veronica was pretty familiar with it. Buffy continued, taking her time.

“You don’t necessarily notice it at the time, but every kid’s life at that age is just fast-paced chaos. It’s not as obvious when you’re still in the thick of it but – someone older? There’s a lot of appeal… They’ve survived it, they’re familiar with it, and they have that helpful hindsight-advantage way of looking at your life and can help you through it. They have patients and knowledge and a multi-layered life that – for some reason? They want to make you a part of. You feel special, grown up, and thankful for that someone who helps bare what feels like a crushing weight… and you trust them, ‘cause they’ve carried the load before…”

Buffy stopped here and just stared hard at Veronica for a moment. Veronica felt like she was being evaluated… She wasn’t about to admit it, but once again – Buffy had read her almost too well. Again.

“I wouldn’t change it. I never would have gotten through the tough stuff without him, but – I won’t deny that he caused me a few problems I never would’ve had to worry about if I’d not been dating an older guy.”

“Veronica!” Buffy interrupted, holding up her hand and pinching her eyes shut. “You and I never got to be teens – we went straight from being kids to being adults and that can have drawbacks. Teen years are all about making mistakes and learning from them, and no one really holding it against you.” Buffy opened her eyes again, she looked nervous. “I’m not sixteen, I’m not nineteen, I will be held responsible – and you don’t know me well enough -”

“You’re the one who’s always insisting that you’re not that much older than I am,” Veronica pointed out.

“It wasn’t until he and I had been broken up for a couple years and I was in my twenties that I stopped and thought about all of it. I could think of about four-hundred and twelve reasons why he was exactly what I needed. But I don’t think I could come up with more than five for why he needed me so badly.” Buffy finished quietly.

And there it was – the heart of the matter. Buffy leaned up, placed her palms on her bent knees and gave the young woman the serious look this conversation deserved.

“Veronica, I am not gay. I never slept with Faith, I asked you to go with me to those gay bars because I enjoy your company, and I am not a child anymore… But, I am attracted to you.” Veronica sighed, and Buffy smiled sadly. “I really like you Veronica and I don’t know all the reasons why. Lately I have been feeling so old, surrounded by so many young people who don’t really know me or what I do.” Buffy held out a hand and Veronica took it. “You remind me too much of me –or, well, the me I wish I could have been… Let’s face it; you’re smarter and cooler and prettier than I ever was, no matter what age and I don’t think that’s going to change.”

“So what? You want me because you wanted to be me?” Veronica asked, half sarcastic. Buffy shook her head.

“I like who you are, all the many parts of you. And because we have so many similarities but just enough differences, we get along smoothly. And it doesn’t hurt that you’re kind of a stone-cold fox.” Buffy managed a playful grin here for the first time in –again – too long. “But you still don’t know me, Veronica.”

“I know enough!” Veronica insisted, leaning into Buffy, forcing their bodies together until they were just inches apart. The older woman still resisted, “You think I’m attractive, you think I’m smart, we get along amazingly well – and yet you say I don’t know you well enough?” She could feel Buffy’s breathing shallow out.

“I’m not saying let’s be exclusive, I’m not even saying we should date! I’m saying let me call you on it when you’re acting jealous, or when I act jealous around you… let me kiss you, without having to make excuses for the why…” Veronica trailed off and watched Buffy wet her lips and close her eyes, but when she tried to lean in the older woman pulled back just enough. So she leaned in faster, harder and further until she felt their mouths connect.

She shut her eyes and breathed, letting relief wash over her entire body as she felt “Finally!” shout through every cell in her body. All this was so distracting it took her a couple of seconds to realize that Buffy was not kissing her back.

The sudden realization of how awkward it was to be the only one kissing hitting her like a splash of cold water, Veronica pulled back. The older girl had such a frozen, shocked look on her face. Licking her lips, trying to assess the situation, Veronica tried to come up with a way out – with honor and dignity, if at all possible. But as she took a breath in to try and make some kind of argument or excuse, she heard a choked sort of sound… Buffy’s face was trying to suppress a grin, and had not been entirely able hold off an onslaught of laughter.

“Wow… I think I just found reason number four hundred and thirteen to date someone older.” Buffy chuckled, bringing a finger up to her lip before pulling it away to look at it. “They certainly know how to kiss better.”

“Objection,” Veronica cut in, her relief palpable through her indignation.

“To what?”

“Uh – your wide generalization!” she scoffed playfully, smacking Buffy’s hand away from her mouth, “I’m guessing manners aren’t among the first four hundred and eleven, though?”

“Excuse me?”

“Well, it’s just polite to kiss back – ”

“Oh, polite? You want to talk about polite?” Buffy mocked, though still smiling, “Since when is forcing affection on someone polite?” Veronica was shocked that she only started blushing now. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

“Hey – you admitted it! Don’t forget, you said want –”

“But was pointedly not followed by take-have, Mars.” Buffy’s forearm now rested on Veronica’s un-injured shoulder, and the younger woman was glad that the smile was still playful – despite her slightly accusatory nature.

“Well, I still say it doesn’t count.”

“What doesn’t count?”

“Well, if you can’t back it up - it doesn’t count,” Veronica insisted, keeping her tone competitive, “I mean, I’ve kissed a few people older than myself, and I was ready to just accept your argument – but you di-Mmm!” Veronica was silenced… Reason #413 confirmed.

Like, seriously confirmed.

Buffy’s kiss was, to state the obvious, very different. There was a softness, a sort of slowness – like she knew it was better to take the time to do it right than try and rush to the good parts… it was all good parts. And though she’d not expected it, kissing someone her own height kind of had it’s advantages – an unexpectedly even playing-field, leaving them to duke it out for control of the kiss based purely on their ability to leave the other one’s head swimmy… Buffy was winning. And for once, Veronica was really enjoying someone getting the better of her at something. Buffy seemed to bring that out pretty often.

Veronica could feel Buffy’s other hand slowly sliding up towards her right collarbone, a finger playing at the edge of her bandage. Veronica slid her thumbs into the belt-loops at either of the older girl’s hips, trying to tug her closer - and finding herself being drawn forward instead as Buffy deepened the kiss. She could feel the blunt teeth pulling at her lower lip just as the slightest pressure was applied to the scrape at her neck. The whimper that managed to escape was certainly pleasurable – the only issue she took with it was how utterly submissive she sounded even to her own ears.

“Withdrawn,” she gasped as Buffy pulled back. When her eyes opened, she did not see the shit-eating grin she’d expected, instead a glazed-eyed kind of nervousness. “… Buffy?”

“Yay for me,” Buffy’s voice was distant, her gaze still on Veronica’s lips. She shook herself out of it, the grin slowly making its way across kiss-swollen lips. “I love winning.”

“I’m not ready to concede defeat.” Veronica said, still slightly short of breath. The grin grew.

As Veronica leaned forward, she rested her forehead against the older girl’s temple and felt her sigh. The world had not ended; this was a good sign. Her thumbs were still woven into Buffy’s belt-loops, lightly clutching her hips in her palms, a vague sense of the other woman’s knees at either side of her own. Despite the fact they were no longer kissing, no longer moving save their breaths in and out, Veronica couldn’t help but notice her attraction to Buffy had yet to plateau this evening.

Her pulse had not slowed down, though her breathing had; remaining shallow. She was glad Buffy hadn’t noticed.

“It’s getting early and you must be exhausted,” Buffy mumbled gruffly, obviously tired herself, “And you and I need a little space.” She said slowly, though her hand still soothed over the bandage at Veronica’s neck. Her teeth clenched, but Veronica forced herself to put on a smile – knowing that if she argued Buffy would merely become convinced of her own opinion… they were stubborn in very similar ways.

Buffy finally pulled back, resting her hands on the younger girl’s elbows, whose hands were still at Buffy’s hips. She was not letting go just yet. Despite everything Buffy smiled, looking worn out. “If in the morning you plead intoxication because of those antibiotics,” she joked, “I warn you now – I will not be laughing.” She stood up and walked towards the back of the apartment, Veronica trailing behind her.

As they entered Buffy’s bedroom one after the other, Veronica couldn’t help the fluttering in her stomach as the older girl led her to the bed and sat her on it. Gazing down at it, she noticed that it was not a full-sized bed, but a single. Looking up, she found Buffy rummaging around in her closet. When she turned around, she had an armful of blankets and spare pillows. Her smile was sad and Veronica knew she must’ve done a bad job at hiding her disappointment.

“Take the bed, you’re wounded,” Buffy insisted, “I’ll take the couch.”

“Besides,” Veronica mocked playfully, “It’s not like there’s room to spare.” She said, patting the tiny bed. Buffy’s smile was not embarrassed.

“The place came furnished,” she defended, “Besides, as previously stated – I was not looking for someone to keep my sheets warm… Willow was, so she got the ‘grown-up-sized’ room. I drew the line at the Jurassic Park themed bed-sheets though –I got rid of those.” Veronica smiled but couldn’t bring herself to laugh… she was actually very shocked at how disappointed she felt, the night ending this way - especially considering how their being reunited began. Buffy tucked everything under one arm,

“I’ll come wake you in the morning – what time do you need do you need to be out of here by?”

Veronica suddenly realized that it was a Sunday night – she had classes tomorrow. “Uhm, my first class is at noon but I should probably –”

“Meet Mac on her way out of Willow’s class so she knows you’re still alive?” Buffy guessed. Veronica made a grumpy sort of face at being so predictable, but it dissolved as Buffy just smiled at her, brushing some hair away from the younger girls forehead with a few fingers. They remained until they moved to hold her chin in a soft grip, Buffy leaning down to place a chaste but certainly lingering kiss before leaning up again.

“If the smell of coffee doesn’t wake you then I will.” Buffy stopped in the doorway to turn around again, “You know where everything is in the bathroom; toothbrush, shampoo, gauze?” Veronica nodded. They both smiled slightly as Buffy shuffled back to the small couch in the living room.

Veronica had lain awake, almost unmoving, since the light from Buffy’s bedroom window had all but slapped her across the face. The older girl had insisted that she take her bed for the night – but take it alone. While both were in agreement that separate was wise, at least for that night, it was a decision that seemed far easier for Buffy to make.

Despite the fact that she had been exhausted and the pills the clinic had given her made her loopy, Veronica was shocked she managed to fall asleep at all… even if to only wake up two hours later by the sun. She couldn’t get up. Well, she could, she rationalized, but she just couldn’t make herself do it. Last night had been, well… It had been last night. It was so much in so little time she couldn’t boil it down to a single adjective. Whatever it was, it was big.

And as long as she stayed in this bed, and Buffy didn’t come through her bedroom door to wake her – they could say in this suspended place. Where the night before could still have room for interpretation, no one had to make excuses or explanations or think about the ‘where do we go from here’ conversation that they both must know was inevitable. Veronica had asked for change – but she was not so naive as to believe she could completely control what it changed into.

But then she heard the door to the apartment open down the hall.

Scuttling out from under the sheets, she opened the door a sliver just as Faith dropped a large, leather valise next to the front door. Faith had a smirk on her face as she pulled off her coat and threw it on one of the hooks meant to hold keys. As she walked forward, past the boundaries of the mouth of the hall and out of Veronica’s line of sight, the young blonde sucked in a breath and held it.

“B,” she could hear Faith muttering gently. “B, wake up.” Veronica heard the blonde stirring on the couch and winced, and could already feel something slipping away like sand through her fingers. “What happened? You fall asleep watching the SciFi channel again?” Faith joked.

Buffy sighed and cleared her throat. “Faith,” Buffy began, her voice tired – Veronica could already hear the tone preparing to calm Faith.

“Will went straight to her class,” Faith cut her off, “She found out Kennedy has a new girl, and so now she’s on one of her keeping-busy-so-she-doesn’t-have-to-think-about-it kicks.”

“Oh god, poor Willow,” Buffy muttered.

“Poor us, you mean. But tell me about it,” Faith chuckled, “and the girl’s human, younger than Kenny too… Willow’s having a multi-level crisis at this point.”

“Listen, Faith, there’s something –”

“Mission went well, or at least nothing worse than scrapes and broken fingers so no worries. G-Man said the ones with screws loose are getting good at finger-painting and knife-throwing – rubber knives, mind you; most of them are a little ‘off’, you know?” Faith rambled as she moved into the kitchen-nook and flipped on the coffee maker.

Scrapes and broken fingers? What the hell? ‘Mission’?

“Faith!” Buffy whispered loudly, trying to cut her off, “Veronica’s here.” She could see Faith glancing around and Veronica narrowed the crack in the doorway.

“Jeez, B, What’d you do? Knock her out and drag her back here? Last I heard she didn’t wanna even speak to you, much less –” She saw Faith’s jaw drop slowly and her eyes widen – it was a kin to actually hearing the gears turn in a person’s mind. “Holy shit, B! You didn’t – I mean you couldn’t – there’s – what the hell were you – Whoa!” she all but shouted at the end, clapping her hands together in front of her mouth.

Buffy was frantically shushing her. “Of course I didn’t, are you insane! But Shut Up! She’s still asleep!” She whispered urgently.

“Where?” Faith asked, her face conspiratorially excited. Buffy blushed, shoving a hand into the back pocket of her jeans. Giving a slight head tilt, Faith’s eyes snapped right to Veronica’s hiding place.

“No. Way!” she shouted. “Shit B - What did you have to do to get her here?” Veronica and Faith both saw the pink drain out of Buffy’s face until she appeared white. Veronica knew the other blonde was debating telling Faith about what she actually did at night.

“She got bit. I took her to the hospital last night.” Or maybe not, Veronica realized, as Faith nodded sadly. Veronica had assumed that Willow must have known – but Faith too? Did all these people know about Buffy’s vigilante status? “She was... investigating. Trying to figure out,” Buffy waved her hand and Faith brushed it off, as thought what had happened the night before was old hat to them. Veronica pressed her ear closer to the door. “She got blind trapped in an ally. She tried to tase the thing.” The two older women shared a single chuckle, but it was mirthless. “I had to pull the guy off her but… it still broke skin. I kind of forgot she wasn’t -”

“A card-carrying club member?” Faith asked. Buffy Just gave a lop-sided grin, leaning back against the kitchen counter as she nodded.

There’s a club, Veronica wondered?

“You know B,” Faith began hesitantly, so hesitantly both Buffy’s and Veronica’s eyes were boring into her expectantly. “She isn’t Satsu.” Buffy huffed and shoved off the counter. Turning around she grabbed mugs from the cabinet and set them down, gripping the counter-top hard.

“I know she isn’t. Thank god she isn’t.” Buffy’s back was stiff as she said this but Veronica wished she could see her face. Who the hell was this Satsu? “How is…?”

“Asked about you.” Faith muttered, arms crossed, leaning back close to Buffy. “Wanted to know how you were… If you were, you know, happy.”

“And your answer?” there was a calculated flatness to the older blonde’s tone Veronica couldn’t remember hearing before. Faith shrugged, shaking her head. “Really, Faith… What did you say?”

“I said ‘ask her yourself’. But something tells me that the margins get more reading than the text, the files you send back.” Buffy let out a sad chuckle, hearing this. As the pieces slid into place Veronica realized, whoever this ‘Satsu’ guy was, there had been something between him and Buffy. “There’s a lot of guilt there, B. Satsu thinks you came out here because –”

“No,” Buffy cut Faith off, “That’s not why, Satsu knows that –”

“You’ve been gone for months, B. A lot of people are wondering why you haven’t come back yet. Maybe it’s time you sent back something besides the standard W2 forms…?” The coffee maker’s light turned off and Buffy carefully poured three cups. Shaking her head slowly, staring down at the two remaining mugs, Buffy carefully considered her answer. Faith just drank hers, eyebrows raised as she waited.

“I’ll have to go back eventually. But not yet, I don’t want to.” Buffy’s voice got really quiet. “I’m kinda happy here. If the question comes up again?” she offered, taking a mug in each hand, making her way towards her own bedroom until Faith put a hand on her shoulder.

“If it’s because of her B,”

“Faith, for the last time! It’s not –”

“Veronica, Buffy. You gotta think about her, B. You keep making exceptions for her – and not the ones you should be making. She’s not like you and me, Buffy. She’s -”

“It’s kinda hard to forget, Faith, so stop trying to reminding me.” She shrugged the hand off her shoulder, leaving Faith in the kitchen. “It’s kind of why she’s made it this far.” Veronica climbed back under the covers quickly but draped a leg over the side. When Buffy came through the door, she smiled at finding Veronica awake.

“You smell the coffee?” Buffy asked. Veronica nodded, smiling, though she knew it was a bit shaky. Glancing at the clock on her bedside table Buffy handed Veronica her mug. “You can probably catch Mac on her way back to her dorm,” she sipped her coffee, “Sorry I let you sleep so late – I kinda passed out myself.” The younger girl shook it off, her mind still racing with all she’d overheard. “You okay?” Buffy asked quietly, concerned. She reached for the bandage at Veronica’s collarbone, but her hand got caught on the way. Veronica held it briefly before asking.

“Are we?”

Buffy smiled, lacing their fingers together. “I think we could be,” she answered playfully, shrugging, “Guess we’ll find out.” She dropped the girl’s hand, standing up. “I’m gonna go take a sprinting-fast shower while you get dressed. We should get back to Hearst in time for you to find Mac and for me to not get fired. Plan?”

“Plan.” Veronica confirmed. Buffy paused at the door before turning around.

“Her Mars,” The older girl began, her face anxious, “Do you think you could not tell anyone about all this? I mean, besides Mac obviously, ‘cause you gotta tell someone and… please?” Buffy asked, seriously. “I know you and your Dad… and if it comes up on a case and you can find a way to phrase it without sounding crazy then – by all means.” she stopped her ramble. “Anyways. I just… I don’t want the rest of Neptune to think I’m an even bigger freak than is readily obvious.”

Veronica couldn’t help but smile at this. “Okay.”

“Promise?” Buffy already looked relieved.

“Yeah, I promise.”

Buffy turned and left. The smile remained.

(To Be Continued…)

“You know,” a familiar voice said from behind Veronica, making her jump out of her skin a little bit. The library was about to close, near empty already, and her mind had wondered so far out of reality that the reentry was jarring. “After that little speech you gave me the other night? I really didn’t expect it to be you avoiding me.”  Buffy finished, leaning both elbows on the edge of the librarian’s desk. “You’re wigging out, aren’t you?”

Despite the content of her statement, the older girl’s tone was playfully accusatory, and she was smirking. Veronica hated cockiness, but she felt the need to take note of the fact that prolonged exposure to that particular Buffy-smile induced a kind of coy smile in response. The battle for control of the corners of her mouth was hard fought, but in the end – all for naught. 

“Cell phone.” Veronica explained, “I turned it off so my dad wouldn’t know I was wondering down dark alleys at 2AM chasing junkies in the bad part of town, and I forgot to turn it back on. With the events of Sunday night being… well, what they were – I forgot to call to say I wouldn’t be home. So when I never returned to the apartment – ”

“He decided to trace you, but couldn’t because your cell was off,” Buffy finished, nodding, her teeth gritted in regret, “Which, knowing the legend of Keith Mars, only increased worry and suspicion.” Veronica just nodded, placing palms on the counter. 

“When Mac and I got to her room, he was already there asking Parker if I’d spent the night with them in the dorms.” Buffy’s face went pale.

“And?” she asked quickly.

“Parker did some quick thinking; said she had spent the night at Logan’s. Claimed she’d only just gotten back and had no idea… After some pointed eye contact with Mac the gaps got filled.”

“How did you explain keeping the cell off?”

“Said I was on a case and it was a personal favor, didn’t want him horning in. Which of course made him worry, but I told him I was dropping the client – there was nothing to the case and the client was just paranoid, looking for excuses. I think he was just happy to have confirmation that Logan was seriously seeing someone else. Pretty sure that’s where he thought I’d spent the night.” Buffy’s grin returned the barest bit. 

“While he can’t really ground me, being an independent adult-type person of a college student variety and nineteen? Been making an effort to be more of a home-body the past couple of weeks. Besides,” Veronica held up the book she’d been reading. It was a textbook for how to study for the California Private Investigator’s Examinations. “Who better to study with than the man I come home to?” she said somewhat whimsically. 

“But,” Buffy drew the word out slowly, “Are you really going to drop it?” she asked delicately. Veronica smiled, taking a deep breath before responding. A clatter could be heard as a boy with a stack of books up to his chin clambered to the desk. Buffy vanished into the stacks as the younger girl finished scanning the books’ bar-codes. A few students filed out as she flicked off most of the lights and locked the register. She didn’t look up until she heard the heavy thump-thump of the lock at the library’s main doors. Buffy turned around with a smirk.

“All clear.” Buffy smiled, “Speak plainly.” Then Veronica had a thought, glancing around. Her eyes fell on the small camera hidden in the glass bauble in the ceiling.

“Is that - ?”

“On? Always. But it’s aimed at the desk, so if you wanna have the serious talk in the History annex, then -”

“I meant is that how you knew I was here.” She clarified, though she was eyeing the camera wearily. Buffy nodded towards the adjoining conference-looking room.

Veronica was shocked when she found her back being pressed against the rear of the door once it closed behind them… because this was the opposite of what she’d just tried to do. But rather than the kissing Veronica had planned to initiate in Buffy’s position, Buffy just seemed intent to smirk. Her eyes, however, were serious.

“Firstly, I appreciate the secret-keeping. I know you don’t like keeping things from your dad and the last thing I wanna do is ruin that relationship, Mars. And secondly, nuh uh,” Buffy grunted, shaking her head, though her hold moved from the younger woman’s shoulders to around her waist, “You still could have found me, could have called – hell, a text message would have settled this in less than a minute – and you didn’t. Avoidy. Why?” Veronica blushed.

“I dunno if ‘wigging’ would be the right word,” Veronica began, somewhat diplomatically, “But to say that all this is clear-cut and entirely non-murky to me is just pure lies.” Veronica felt her hands move to grasp the hands on her hips. “I have no idea what I’m doing. And if Speed has taught me anything, it’s that Keanu will always sound like Bill S. Preston and relationships blooming from events fit for Action Blockbusters are kinda doomed.” Buffy laughed, nodding.

“Kinda why I’m content to be single most of the time.” She admitted, a little shamefully, “So I can’t say I would blame you if this is the point where we both decide pull the ejection-seat lever.” Veronica shook her head at this,

“No, see, that’s what I mean – exactly. Me too.” Buffy was starting to look confused, “Okay, so different kind of Action Movies, but same premise. There’s always the guy with that irresolvable conflict, the love with that perfectly impossible someone who will never really understand, you know? And they mess up sometimes, and they make your life harder all too often but then there are the moments, the ones most romantics wait for and never get and I’m rambling-and-I-think-I’ll-just-stop-now…” she mumbled off at the end. Buffy laughed, leaning into her a little bit, full on grinning now.

“I’m with you; finish the thought.” The older woman responded quietly, her voice had a kind of intimate understanding to it and Veronica felt her blood rush a little.

“And you get it.” Veronica sighed, her words warm against Buffy’s face. “You get all of it, and there’s understanding and… I’m not dropping it. I’m here, I just need to get comfortable with not being uncomfortable or over-thinking the why.”

“You do get it,” Buffy mumbled, biting her lip, “Sounds like you’ve been through all this before. More than once?” Veronica nodded. Buffy did too. “Yeah.” She leaned her forehead against Veronica’s. “Just to warn you, I’m having that I’m the sober one feeling again. Like I should be talking us out of this, or not even giving you the choice I mean what if it’s me and I just… I’m old.” Buffy blurted. “I’m old, you’re amazing and I’m not sure I can do this. I shouldn’t do this.” Neither saw Veronica’s smile at this, their eyes were shut.

“It’s kind of too late, it sort of already started,” Veronica said, leaning back and opening her eyes, “Or did you miss that whole kissing thing? And the jealousy and the protectiveness and possessiveness – this is here, Buffy. I’d say it’s kind of already way too late.” She knew her smile was the cocky one now, but the way the fingers grasped at her hips a little tighter at the mention of putting an end to this made her confident.

“Yeah, but I already know how this is going to play out,” there was sadness there, worry and regret, “It’s gonna end. And I’m going to be the one that ended it. But should I do it now, or risk ‘mores the pain’ and see how it ends later?”

“Alright,” Now Veronica was annoyed; “I’ve already gotten this speech this term – so let’s skip it, shall we? Who’s this Satsu guy?” Buffy’s eyes bugged suddenly. “Tell me, and it might end later - don’t tell me and it can end right now. Who is he?” Buffy was frozen, her eyes wide, her feet having moved into a stance that made running away easier.

“He who?” Buffy demanded, “Satsu?” Buffy asked, confused. Veronica nodded curtly.

“Yeah. Is he one of your perfectly-impossibles?” her tone was somewhat accusatory, and Buffy’s face slowly split into a smile.

“You want to know about Satsu?” The older girl asked. Something about the amused tone told Veronica she had no idea what she was really asking.

(To Be Continued…)

Earlier that day, Buffy had gone to do a little digging of her own. Standing outside the door, she tried her hardest to wipe the amused smile off her face at the unmistakable sounds coming from within the next room. She straightened her Hearst Security uniform, cleared her throat, and put on her best ‘Serious Face’ before knocking. The sounds paused, and there was a lingering silence. She knocked again. She could hear scrambling coming from inside.

“Who – Who is it?” was shouted toward the door.

“Security, would you open the door please.” She barked. A boy walking down the hall paused to watch so she sent him a glare and waved him on. Leaning in closer to the door she could hear the two people whispering frantically.

“Why is security knocking on my door?”

“I dunno, could it have something to do with –”

“No – I took care of that!”

“Maybe another one heard about it and is looking for a hand out?”

“I don’t have enough cash on me to get rid of them!”

“Well do something! Answer the door!”

“Where are my pants?”

“Under your desk!”

“Sir, could you open up please?” She could hear the boy shushing her as he tripped across his room to open the door.

“Uhm, does there a problem -” He sputtered then paused when he really took in what was standing outside his bedroom. Clearing his throat and shaking his head Max tried to clarify. “Uh, w-what seems to be, uh,” he stammered.

“Sir, we got a few complaint calls from your neighbors about the noise.” She drawled, doing her best impression of that pompous sheriff Lamb guy. Max turned bright red. 

“Oh. R-really? Huh… well, okay, I’ll just uhm – people could hear me?” he asked suddenly. Buffy nodded curtly.

“Yes sir, they asked me to tell you that the volume at which you watch your pornography was interrupting their ability to study,” Max’s eyes bugged.

“My what?”

“Sir, are you twenty one?” she asked suspiciously, hearing someone else moving around behind the door now. “Because the state of California has very strict laws as to the control of certain materials. If we could just step inside and verify both you age and the type of content you were viewing –”

“Max,” Mac cut in, wearing only a pair of boxers and a men’s shirt as she pulled the door open wider. “It’s okay. She’s a friend of Buffy’s.” He glanced between the two women, still kind of jarred and in shock. Buffy gave a sedentary wave, her grin pure sadistic satisfaction. “Porn?” Mac accused, Buffy shrugged.

“Can I talk to you for a second?” She asked the brunette. She nodded and opened the door wider.

“Uh!” Max cut in, blocking her entrance, “I don’t think, this isn’t such a good idea. I’d really -”

“You know, for a kid running an unethical yet blossoming cheating business – you’d think he’d know his student handbook a little better.” Buffy pulled a copy from the pocket of her coat and tossed it to him. “Why don’t you refresh on chapter seven while I talk to Mac for a bit.”

“Uhh,” he mumbled, not sure if he should be placated or worried – she did admit to knowing.

“I’m just gonna talk to her… Clearly states I can’t investigate the room unless given cause, and if I had been called here on a noise complaint – which I wasn’t, by the way – then anything I found in relation to any other illegal or unethical activity would be inprofferable.” She said reciting the section verbatim. Max flipped through the pages as he warily stepped out into the hall, trying to get to chapter seven. 

“I kind of just wanted to ambush your girlfriend. I’m not gonna dig through your stuff – I don’t even have jurisdiction to open the mini-fridge, let alone your file cabinets.” She said walking past Mac into the room, “I’m just going to sit here on the be- ” She glanced down at the rumpled sheets and cut herself off before sitting against the edge of his desk. “Uh, here… and ask her some girly stuff. Alright?” He nodded, pecked Mac on the cheek, and wondered down the hall, nose-deep in the handbook. She closed the door.

“Girly stuff?” Mac clarified, sitting on the bed herself. Now it was Buffy’s turn to blush. She folded her arms a little tightly over her chest and nodded. “Veronica.” Mac stated, realizing. The older girl nodded again. “She hasn’t called.” Buffy looked up, a combination of worry and sheepishness. Then nodded again.

“I know you know,” she started out, “When she found out you were the one she ran to, the first person she would have told. You’re her Willow.” For some reason this made both of them smile a little bit. “So I assume that she told you what happened on Sunday?” she guessed, though there was hesitation. This was a test – she was waiting for the right answer. 

Mac smirked. “Are you talking about the fact that you kissed her, or the incident in the alley and the bandage on her neck?” she asked smugly. Buffy just nodded her head and smiled.

“Okay.” She muttered. 

“What about them?” Buffy’s expression became serious at this question, her smile fading.

“Mac, what do you know? How much do you know?” The younger girl pulled her legs up under her and sighed.

“Being smarter than most people? It's like Veronica's curse. 'Cause then she finds out whatever they're lying about really easy. Too easy. It's kind of what she does best, and it's great for when she's doing her P.I. thing, but she can't...turn it off. So eventually, everyone lets her down, 'cause she digs for stuff 'til they do. I don't think she can help it." Buffy had the barest smile.

“I meant more like, what do you know about what Ido…” though Her voice had a hint of gratitude. Mac thought and shrugged.

“She asked me to look into it; search engines and message-boards. She has better access to things like police reports, medical records, stuff like that. I found a lot of crap, Ann Rice LARPers, fetishists, even found an entire dating site for ‘OtherKin’ – but besides that? Not a whole lot.” Mac sighed. 

“Found some stuff about that town not too far from here, the one that had a massive cave-in; a bunch of the survivors were talking about weird stuff that went on there, urban legends from before the disaster. But sadly, those seemed to be the most congruent.” Mac gave a derisive snort at this. 

“I told Veronica all this, but she still went out looking for them anyway.”

“They are, Mac. They’re here, in town.” Buffy tried to stress as calmly as she could. Mac nodded,

“I know, I saw –” she stopped herself, realizing Buffy didn’t know about the picture Veronica had taken, “I saw her bite, Buffy. It was… realer than real. Not like, someone who’s watched too many movies real. This isn’t at all like in the movies.” She took a deep breath. “I just didn’t want her going out without something in her arsenal. But she was…” she looked kind of pointedly at Buffy and the older girl blushed. “She needed to know. So she went.”

“That’s why I followed.” Buffy continued for her. “I thought maybe, if she got a little bit of a scare in her she wouldn’t feel tempted to dig any deeper – that she’d just trust me… But I think I know Veronica too well to still think that now.” Buffy and Mac shared a brief smile. 

“Willow’s the master of this searching realm, as I’m sure you know,” Buffy added. Mac nodded. “She’s been B.P.R.D almost as long as I’ve been doing this and she’s the best. But Mac,” Buffy paused here, pulling off from the desk to stand a bit above the brunette girl, “The world isn’t ready to take the red pill. And I don’t want Veronica to get any deeper into this than she already has.”

“You know she can’t just drop something.” Mac stated. “You have to give her a good reason to.” Buffy sighed, running a hand over her hair.

“I’m not trying to hide things from her, Mac. I’m trying to hide her from the things. I don’t want her to do this.”

“Then come up with a way to convince her. And Buffy?” She warned, “Two bits of advice about Veronica?” Buffy nodded, listening. “Always assume she knows twice as much as you’ve told her, and secondly; if you really haven’t lied so far – then keep it up. If you’re being honest and hurt her, it’s still better than lying to her. If you have nothing else, she’ll know you respected her at least that much.” Buffy nodded, and turned to leave.

She stopped her, calling “Do you need any help finding her?” The older girl gave her a small smile, turning the knob.

“I’ll know where to look.”

“Satsu was…” Buffy started delicately, choosing her words carefully, “about your age when we met.” She chuckled, looking fixedly down at her hands. “I was twenty two, having almost-independence was new, and it took me a while to remember who I was supposed to be. I was way more alone than I planned on.” This all came out a little too methodical for Veronica to pull too much from it except the twinge of disappointment she picked up at the end. “Me, my friends...we had control over our lives for once. Again - very new experience. My friends loved it, grabbed with both hands and ran. Continents away from me.” Buffy sighed at this but kept going.

“I'm not kidding. We were separated by hemispheres at one point. Then the next thing I know I’m in Japan standing over an ash pile that I didn't cause. And that’s how I met Satsu.” The older woman’s smile was a bit proud at this.

“Was that how you found out? About…?” Veronica trailed off pointedly. Buffy shook her head, her smile amused.

“A world of no,” Buffy mumbled. “I was fifteen when I found out.”

“How?” Veronica asked quickly.

Buffy tilted her head from side to side, thinking. “Sorta like you did, I guess. Someone told me – but I would never have believed it if they hadn’t shown me.”

“But when did you start, you know… tracking them?” Veronica asked, the word ‘tracking’ sounded weird to both their ears, for different reasons.

“About two weeks after I first had the crap scared out of me. The person who showed me? Well he also… taught me how. Before he died.” Buffy said, as though to this day all she could remember from that time in her life was the loss of whoever this man was.

This sent a cold chill down Veronica’s nerves. She’d felt seriously in danger when that Thing had found her on campus, and then again when she had been cornered in the alley – but both times Buffy had rushed in and saved her so quickly she’d never really had that moment of oh-my-god-this-is-life-threatening peril register. And when it did hit her, it was quickly followed by a lot of comprehension, all at once; Buffy had known about this for more than ten years, and had obviously lost some things dear to her to make it a part of her life. While in any other context it might have seemed cliché to Veronica, this knowledge had aged Buffy more than the ten years she’d lived since learning it.

“What?” Buffy asked when the younger woman had been quiet for too long.

“He meant a lot to you? Satsu?” She asked slowly. The corner of Buffy’s mouth twitched upwards briefly. “Was he…?” Veronica trailed off.

“Present tense, please. Satus is alive and well. We’re just… we’re, uhm, taking a break from one another right now.”

“Because of the age thing?” Veronica ventured. When Buffy’s eyes snapped to her a little too quickly, Veronica gave a confident shrug. “Intuitive leap – you were bugging out about it with me, so -”

“Oh, age was only the half of it, Mars.” Buffy chuckled, her gaze on Veronica distant but somewhat guilty. “Maybe even less. Like 28.3-percent.”

“And the rest?”

“Complicated other stuff. Namely? Feelings that, while appreciated, were not really reciprocated.”

“Which direction?” Veronica asked quickly.

Buffy smirked, “Which feelings?”

Veronica glowered but withheld a grumble that wanted to escape her throat.

“You were the one that said you just wanted more honesty between us, Veronica.” Buffy’s grin got wider, “Is this when you admit to feelings of jealousy?” she accused playfully. Veronica could feel her face heat up a bit but kept her cool.

“That depends.”

“On?” Buffy countered, her smile fading only slightly.

“What you’re willing to be honest about.”

Buffy’s eyebrows met, a mix of hesitation and confusion. “I haven’t lied to you. About anything.” She admitted slowly. Veronica took a confident step towards Buffy in her chair, placing a hand on it’s back.

“Do you honestly think your lack of details have escaped me?” Veronica’s tone implied that this was some pitiful, laughable insult to assume that it had. “So how about you share some real honesty – put an actual card on the table, and I might consider a trade. One. I dare you.” Her smile was somewhat predatory.

“Veronica,” Buffy stated, holding out a hand. The younger woman took it – and before she knew it she was pulled into the older blonde’s lap, a serious stare pointed her way from worried eyes not inches from her own. “One step at a time.” Veronica noticed her breath shallow out about half a second after she’d felt Buffy’s own against her face.

“So take one.” Veronica hated how light her breathing sounded just then.

Buffy smirked and her hand went to the younger girls neck again, an intimate gesture that was quickly developing between them. Those troublesome fingertips against the last vestiges of her bite made Veronica want to bite her lip and she hated it. And suddenly Buffy’s other hand was at her hip and she was drawing Veronica’s body closer to her, raising her chin like to kiss her and Veronica’s eye slipped closed and she sighed.

And she kept waiting.

No kiss came.

When she opened her eyes again, frustrated and disappointed, the smug look on Buffy’s face made those feelings grow ten-fold.

“My ability to play you like a fiddle has nothing to do with either age or experience, Mars.” Buffy stated smugly, though Veronica could detect a hint of humor under all that hubris.

So Veronica shifted her weight in a way that made Buffy clench her jaw and her eyes almost drift closed. There might have even been a whimper in there somewhere.

“I’m sorry… what was that about a fiddle?”

Buffy blushed but only a bit. “There are worse things than being fiddle-like.” She let out a little shakily.

“There are worse things than being played.” Veronica grinned, leaning in. If Buffy wasn’t going to strike up this inevitable tune, then she was.

Buffy stopped her with both hands but let her stay close.

“No.” Buffy’s voice was firm again. Veronica groaned.

“I didn’t mean play –”

Buffy cut her off, “Veronica, we’re not dating. You don’t want to, I don’t want to, neither of us want the life-style rearranging.”

“So first base is out?” the younger woman tried to summarize. Her tone was an angry one. Buffy smiled sadly.

“Veronica, if I kiss you now? If I let myself think it’s okay? Then I’m gonna think it’s okay to kiss you any time we’re alone. And then there’ll be new reasons for never being around people. So the kissing can be pretty much always.” Her smile became a little less sad and a little more playful at this, her fingers traced over Veronica’s collarbone, “I’ll admit that … if you admit – You and me? Alone? On purpose so I can kiss you?... Sounds a heck of a lot like dating.”

“I’d never admit to anything that could be used against me… it’s a quirk.”

“So I guess this is solitaire I’m playing?” Buffy accused lightly.

“Don’t you mean a playing a solo?”

Buffy shook her head. “There are too many metaphors in this soup now.”

Veronica’s eye widened, “Way to drag in another one. God!” she sighed exasperated.

Buffy chuckled. “Thank god we’re not dating.”

“Why?” Veronica asked, preparing to be offended.

“Because,” Buffy smirked, “Dates can be so awkward – especially with people you really like. You and I thrive on coolness in otherwise heated situations…” Her smile became a little less confident here. “And because we’re not dating, if I ask you over to my apartment to watch some movies, then…” she sighed, her gaze falling on Veronica’s lips before glancing away. “Then there’s nothing to be nervous about. We’re just friends. And everything’s cool, even if you say no and especially if you don’t – say no, that is.”

Veronica’s ears turned pink. She held in a smile but it took an almost inhuman amount of effort.

“Movies? You place, and no first base?” Veronica clarified. Buffy nodded, looking at her again

“Heard about this Thai fighter called Tony Jaa, supposed to be the new black of action stars.” Buffy smiled again, “Does all his own stunts, more intricate than Jet Li and all done without wires. His gimmick is ‘No Strings Attached’ or something.” Veronica’s grin broke through at this with a vengeance.

“You know, your love of the action movies plays into a whole new context these days.” Veronica murmured, her arm going around Buffy’s shoulder so she was now sitting across her lap. She enjoyed how Buffy’s arms moved to cradle her wordlessly.

“When?” Veronica asked.

“Tonight, if you’re free,” Buffy offered, her smile subtle but genuine. Veronica clucked her tongue disapprovingly.

“I have to study for my PI Exam.”

“How about after you take it on Saturday, post celebratory gloat for trouncing your dad’s score?”

Thank god we’re not dating, Veronica found herself thinking before she could stop herself, This one is too good – and losing her might really ruin me.

A shot of cold ran over Veronica’s skin at realizing she’d just had that thought – and realizing that even having that thought meant it could already be too late. She hadn’t noticed her back had stiffened so suddenly or she’d been quiet for so long until Buffy’s hands were at either of her cheeks, pulling her attention back. The older woman looked a little concerned.

“What? Did I just jinx you?” Buffy asked, sounding genuinely worried.

Veronica shook her head and took a steadying breath, “No, but I might have.” She muttered. She got up off of Buffy’s lap and ran a hand over her hair. Buffy got out of her chair, looking even more apprehensive.

“Veronica?” she asked, hesitant. You really couldn’t blame Buffy for her confusion – all that she was, she still wasn’t a mind reader.

“I really should get back to studying.” Veronica blurted, finally turning to see the older girl’s expression. “And yeah. Saturday. I’ll call this time, I promise.” She chuckled a little uncomfortably, remembering their original topic from seemingly ages ago.

“Good luck.” Buffy offered, walking towards the door and leaving Veronica to whatever had just occurred to her. The younger woman waited until she heard the main doors of the library close again before letting herself leave the conference room.

Packing up her stuff, Veronica forced herself to slow her breathing. She could not jinx this with a mere thought if there was nothing to jinx. Someone couldn’t leave you if you were never really with them – wasn’t that the unspoken agreement between her and Buffy?

Yes. Yes it was. There was nothing between them – nothing serious, at least. An attraction maybe but nothing more. It was “casual”; they were casual. There was nothing, she told herself. Veronica tried to feel comforted by that, and she even came close to convincing herself. But not quite close enough.

Now, Veronica might have been the queen of “I told you so”, but she was pretty sure Buffy saw this coming too. Hell, she’d bet it was half the reason Buffy’d planned it.

They had both agreed that this wasn’t a date, good though those kisses were – and they were really good – neither girl was about to redefine their lifestyles for the sake of frivolous titles and clarified pronouns. They were Buffy and Veronica, and that’s what they’d be to each other. They hadn’t been ‘dating’ before now and there had been kisses, Veronica reminded herself, so that didn’t mean there couldn’t be kissing if this wasn’t a date – right?

So when Buffy answered the door in that shirt and those jeans, Veronica knew the answer.

A couple of shy smiles to start off with, followed by an opening question as to where Faith and Willow were off to (the implied “when do you expect them back?” hidden in there too), and soon the two blondes were settled on the couch, appropriate, safe, non-date distance apart to watch their movies. Once the first movie started, things got a lot less tense on the couch.

They laughed about the bad guys’ quest to steal a sacred Buddha head, how much he reminded them of Jimbo’s hunting buddy Ned from South Park, and their inability to pronounce any of the main characters names – so they started giving them new ones. Veronica had thought everything was going well until one of the fight sequences started… Then she noticed Buffy fidgeting, looking uncomfortable.

“You okay?” she asked, seeing Buffy wince.

“Ahh,” Buffy muttered before gritting her teeth a bit. “This is painful to watch.” She groaned.

Veronica raised an eyebrow, turning back to the screen. The fight raged on and Buffy kept wincing at intervals.

“What? Too fake? Not up to your high Chan standards?” Veronica prodded.

Buffy grinned briefly, turning to look at her companion, “More like too real,” she laughed, shaking her bangs into her eyes. “I’m having sympathy pains.”

“What d’ya mean?” Veronica looked closer at the screen – not really seeing the difference.

“Thai fighting,” Buffy said, pointing to the screen, “look at how they kick.” Veronica did. She didn’t see it.

“What?”

Buffy eyes widened. “They don’t kick with the heels of their feet or the flat of their toes – they use their shins.” Veronica’s eyes snapped back to the screen. Moments later, when another kick landed, she let out a sympathetic groan when a man had been spin-kicked in the head.”

“Ow.” The younger girl muttered, gritting her own teeth.

Buffy nodded. “Yeah, it’s hard-core stuff… I couldn’t do it.”

“What do you do?”

“What do I do what?” Buffy asked back, confused.

“Fighting?”

Buffy just stared back at her blankly.

“That night on campus, when you… saved me, from that cheap knock-off security worker. You had some moves on you.” Veronica hated admitting she’d been saved. Buffy actually blushed shyly at this, like she was flattered.

“I didn’t…” she tried to deny, quietly.

Veronica reached out a hand, laying it over Buffy’s as it fiddled with the hem of her shirt nervously. “You did.” She said quietly. Buffy just shrugged in response.

“It’s just a mix of a little bit of everything, I guess. The guy who taught me knew a lot and I guess you could say he was formally trained... I just use what works, what’s useful, what I know.” She chuckled here, smiling at Veronica, “I admit I make up a lot of it on the fly.”

“Gotta respect a girl with her own style.” Veronica vowed, smiling broadly. The movie was forgotten.

“Satsu taught me some stuff about Samurai… but that was mostly philosophy, I guess you’d call it.” Veronica’s smile became slightly tighter than it’d been before this statement. Buffy’s grin just grew. “…Jealous.” Buffy sing-songed at her quietly.

“Excuse me?” Veronica could hardly believe the accusation,

“Isn’t that what you asked for, on this very couch?” Buffy countered, “More honesty?” she joked playfully.

“I’m starting to think I’m getting all the raw ends of this deal.” She muttered, turning so her back was against the armrest, pulling her feet under her. Buffy laughed and scooted closer.

“There are a few upsides,” Buffy reminded, extending her arm over the back of the couch towards the younger girl. Veronica couldn’t help but notice the very deliberate movement. She smiled.

“Oh yeah? And what are they?” She countered, tilting her head to the side, baiting. Buffy’s eyes settled on her neck.

Veronica’s bite had healed for the most part, but this was the first day she’d left it uncovered. The skin had patched, but was still pink as a fresh scar. She’d worn a jacket over here but made a point to have it exposed in the older girl’s presence… Her plan had worked.

The hand slid from the back of the couch and those fingers trailed over Veronica’s neck with such a light touch it almost tickled. As they brushed the slightly raised skin of the two, narrow-lined scars, Veronica watched closely as Buffy’s vision became focused on her completely.

“Value of declarative statements? Rarely have to repeat yourself.” Buffy said quietly, here eyes finally reconnecting with the younger woman’s. “You’re not gonna ask me to stop again are you?” she half joked, letting her fingers gently stroke the back of the girl’s neck just as she had on the night they’d kissed. Veronica’s eyes drifted shut briefly as she steadied herself.

“So, I get you, and in some small measure I get to ‘have’ you – but I don’t get to know anything about you?” Her voice was still kind of breathy, but she knew her point came across. Buffy’s face saddened, her touches became slower – almost a little mournful. Buffy nodded.

“I won’t lie to you, Veronica,” The older girl said honestly, “Sometimes it’s just easier to skip over the details – makes it easier not to dwell on them.” Her hand slid up into the base of Veronica’s hair and she sighed when the younger girl seemed to involuntarily lean into the touch. “Why is this so hard?” Buffy asked, sounding like she really wanted an answer. But Veronica knew she wasn’t the one being asked.

“Wasn’t the whole point we were doing this was because it was so easy?” Veronica asked the same no-one. Buffy chuckled.

“I guess nothing’s ever easy, for anyone.” Buffy chuckled, sounding at least somewhat genuinely amused. Veronica smiled and leaned further into the hand in her hair.

They kissed, slowly at first, and it was nice but brief. When they pulled back, Buffy pressed Veronica’s forehead against her own. Her eyes were sad, but her posture was a forced sort of playful, her next words somewhat hollow.

“They should call me Buffy the Mood-Killer.”

Wrapping her arms around Buffy’s shoulders, Veronica laced her finger together at the back of the other girl’s neck. “You’ve always brought my bad-moods to an untimely end.” Veronica countered with a small but genuine grin. Buffy chuckled. It seemed Veronica could achieve the same. Buffy suddenly sat up straighter, her eyes narrowing slightly.

“How many older guys?” Buffy asked, her tone displeased, “How older?” Veronica just laughed, wondering what made her think of that, now!

“None as old as you.”

“Good.” Buffy nodded once, pleased – though only briefly. “Eww.” She grimaced, “But still.., I guess that’s a good previous record…”

Veronica started laughing uproariously at this, though she didn’t know entirely why. She just felt so relieved, she guessed. Burying her face in older girl’s shoulder Veronica tried to stifle her laughter against the woman’s warm, bare skin. She smelled so girly… but it was nice, clean and subtle, and her skin was smooth and soft and…

“What’s this?” Veronica asked, suddenly pulling back.

“Uhh, the run to first base? Which, I hear – not being a baseball fan myself – is usually the hardest.”

Veronica let out one single chuckle through her nose, quickly followed by an eye-roll and a head-shake. “No, I meant here on your neck.” Veronica clarified. Buffy blushed profusely.

“I knew that cheap cover-up was just… well, cheap.” She grumbled. Buffy reached up and ran the tips of her fingers over the raised skin. Veronica drew back a bit.

“Uhh, not to sound stupid if I am but – are you …” she trailed off, realizing how senseless the words were as soon as they were coming out of her mouth. Buffy just smiled reassuringly as she tilted her head the right way, showing the mark under her makeup.

“Proof of purchase for this sorta life, I guess. But then again – those are multiple bites, so it’s a multi-layered scar.” Veronica brushed her fingers over the marks as the older girl spoke, all-too-calmly, “Trust me, yours would only look this bad if you’re one of those people who poke bruises and make them worse rather than better… assuming I’d still been there in time to save you.” Buffy tacked on, sounding regretful again.

Her expression serious, Buffy thrust a finger into the younger girl’s face, “But I won’t always be around! So promise me that you won’t go looking for those things again – ‘cause, these scars? So – Not – Sexy!”

Something about the whole delivery made Veronica want to laugh again, so she did. But her hands still lingered. Veronica maneuvered herself so she was crouching over the older girl’s lap, fingers once again laced behind her head, and pulled her up into a kiss. Buffy did not need much encouraging.

(To Be Continued…)

Veronica was torn on the cosmic question of, under the shirt, or no? She wasn’t sure how they’d gotten like this, but she was sure she hadn't put up a fight. The arm of the couch held her head up for Buffy’s kiss in a way that might have been highly convenient, but it wasn't exactly comfortable. However, Veronica could stand the awkward angle so long as Buffy’s hand kept drawing those tickling, arousing patterns with gentle ferocity on her stomach.

It’d started out so simply, so like their other kisses had. For some reason, mostly likely many small ones, the thought hadn’t much entered Veronica’s head of doing much more than just kissing the older blonde. Sure, Veronica might have idly thought of what type of under clothes she might find should she ever get the chance to know what lay under snug jeans and appealing blouses – but all too often the next thought was, How gay does that make me? And then she would become distracted.

Here there was no room for distraction – no room for much movement either, with Buffy on top of her pinning her down in the most non-domineering way. In fact, it was odd how in control of the entire situation Veronica felt, which further confused the question of how the hell they gotten double-play status on what was supposed to be a clean-sweep ‘not-date’.

They’d talked, they’d kissed, then Buffy had done that slight gasp thing - and then Veronica was clutching at her, desperate to make Buffy do that sound again. She kissed her deeper, and got a moan. She nibbled her bottom lip and Buffy sighed warmly against her cheek. Her breathing deepened and quickened, and Veronica’s well-honed control slipped a little more with each intake of breath.

She remembers her hair coming down and feeling Buffy’s hands in it with such clarity it arouses her again to think about it. She’s gentle, the older woman doesn’t pull or tug; there’s an intimacy in it, from knowing what it’s like, and somehow that leaves Veronica’s heart racing. So the young woman she’s been called all too often since this kissing-thing started, now has it in her mind to prove Reason 413 completely false – and to not even use her words in the process. Hands at either side of Buffy’s face, her thumbs stroking the fine hairs at Buffy’s temples, Veronica cradles those beautiful features in her palms and no longer cares if this makes her gay now – it makes her on fire, it makes her squirm, it makes Buffy make those sounds which she wants to hear more of and wow, okay, maybe she is a little gay.

The thought hits her for a second and Veronica lets out a slightly shuddering breath, and soon there are hands over hers and Buffy is leaning in, connecting their lips once again. All thoughts gone again. Then her arms wrap around Buffy’s neck, dragging her closer and more and faster and she feels Buffy’s hands snake around her hips and the word turns a little. Veronica has a brief moment of awe that such a feeling really can be caused by a good enough kiss… until her head feels the armrest of the couch press against the back of her neck, and a small chuckle tries to squeeze past her lips. It doesn’t really make it, but she feels Buffy smile against her warming skin as they keep kissing one another.

Veronica thinks it goes without saying that she’s a passionate person – she’s had those sweeping moments when the music rises and lips collide and want betters reason – but, slow as all this had built? This felt like one of those moments. They’d repeatedly tried to talk themselves out of it, had a hundred flimsy reasons that wrinkled like paper when they came within arms length of one another. There was something in the way that the older woman had saved her and never wanted to have to do it again… much as she might not want to admit it? That was kind of hot. Then add in the fact that Buffy herself was actually some kind of… vigilante? Was that the word? She hoped there was spandex involved in the near future.

At the same time? There was something to be said for Buffy’s drapey, loose peasant blouse and the way it came away from her body as she leaned over Veronica on the couch. Sliding her hands from her hands from around the older girl’s neck, Veronica made her decision. She started at Buffy’s hips, then slowly and determinedly drew them up, her heart skipping like a CD as she felt the fabric of the shirt gather at her wrists. Under the shirt it was, then. If the way the muscles along her stomach shivered were a sign, Buffy wasn’t too bothered by her decision. In fact, Buffy made that little gasping sound again. Veronica smiled, and pulled their bodies against one another.

That was a new kind of a thing. There were… hills and valleys and they connected strangely. Good strange. Frictiony good sorta strange. Different maybe was a better word, because it felt sort of… Fuck it, Veronica could define it later, right now she just wanted to enjoy it and that was easy. Because Buffy was now kind of straddling her and their hips fit together in this way that had Veronica gasping now. Buffy’s kisses moved from her lips to her neck, down along the column of her throat to where she’d been bitten and Buffy seemed to be trying to sooth it away, as though she could pleasure it’s existence into nothing. Veronica wasn’t about to stop her trying; she was really enjoying the efforts.

Veronica’s hands had been stroking up and down Buffy’s sides, slowly making their way higher with every pass, until she felt her thumbs reach the sides of Buffy’s bra. Then she froze, breathing and all. Then, so did Buffy. The older woman lifted her face from where she’d been nibbling at Veronica’s collarbone to connect eyes with a heavy pointedness. Buffy shifted her weight a little on her forearms to lean off of the younger girl a little bit, but then Veronica squirmed a little at the loss of contact. The corner of Buffy’s lip quirked up almost immeasurably before leaning down to lightly kiss the girl again.

“I swear,” Buffy murmured against her lips between kisses, “Pull an Amy Bradshaw, and I will not be laughing.”

Veronica stopped kissing her immediately. “You saw D.E.B.S.?” she demanded. Buffy just smirked.

“You’ve obviously seen it,” Buffy smirked, “How many gay roommates do you have?”

Veronica decided to ignore the jab and instead hold Buffy’s gaze unflinchingly as she slid both hands up Buffy’s back and began undoing the small hooks of her bra. Buffy’s face went a little unsure but flushed.

“Okay,” Buffy let out shakily as she felt the clinging garment loosen itself. Veronica reached up with her lips and kissed Buffy slowly as she ran her fingertips the full length of Buffy’s back from shoulder blades to the tops of her jeans. It left the older woman moaning. Veronica grinned into her kisses, before making them deeper. “Your skin is so warm,” She muttered, kissing Veronica with a renewed ferocity. Veronica felt oddly complimented, but had no idea why.

Keeping one hand, veronica changed the angle of her wrist and began stroking Buffy’s soft, flat belly with the backs of her fingers, tickling over her bellybutton with her knuckles. Buffy laved at Veronica’s lower lip and nodded wordlessly. Veronica moved higher. Her palm, thankful not-clammy despite her nervousness, made it’s way up her stomach and along the separation of her ribs. She could feel the now loose, hanging fabric of the bra against her hand. She could just brush the underside of Buffy’s left breast against the back of her knuckles… she could also hear a gasp from the doorway.

“Willow!” Buffy shouted, then grunted as she promptly and gracelessly rolled off Veronica and hit the floor. She tried to straighten herself out only to remember that some of her under clothes had been removed. Crossing her arms in front of her chest nervously, Faith soon came traipsing in behind the redhead with about six grocery bags on her. Veronica shifted so that her legs were swung over the edge of the couch as she tried to look calm and innocent.

Faith gave a nod in there direction before continuing on to drop the bags of food on their kitchen counter. The music from the movie’s credits played quietly as all the people waited in a pointed silence. Buffy took Veronica by the hand and walked her briskly past a frozen and wide-eyed Willow still standing in front of the doorway.

“Hey! Don’t leave on account of us!” Faith yelled, amused, “We don’t mind!” she chuckled and Buffy closed the door with a bit more attitude than the doorframe could handle… it left the walls rattling.

They had soooo been caught.

When Veronica tore her eyes away from the fragile door she saw that Buffy was very pointedly turned away from her. Left feeling very on edge and very, well… annoyed at life’s comedic timing, Veronica calmed a little when she saw Buffy fling something into her hamper from under her shirt. She smirked briefly despite her better judgment. With a huff, the older girl whirled around and groaned as she threw her arms into the air.

“Great! I might have well have put a coming out announcement in the weekly newsletter!” Buffy angrily whispered, “Did you see Faith’s face? I didn’t think you could fit so much evil smugness in a single expression…” Putting an exasperated hand to her forehead. Buffy sighed and closed her eyes. “Everyone is gonna know it about 3 hours. Less maybe.”

“Are you worried about Satsu finding out?” Veronica asked, feeling a little left out of this whole internal crisis. Buffy’s eyes snapped open, wide.

“Aw fuck, I hadn’t even thought of that.” Buffy muttered.

Veronica felt a little pleased that she’d managed to drive thoughts of Satsu so far from the older girl’s mind. She wrapped her arms around her middle and stared out of the small window. She remembered how the light had woken her when she’d stayed over after her incident in the ally. She wondered if they could fit through it to escape the loaded hallway on the other side of Buffy’s door.

“If we don’t leave soon they’ll get a whole other slue of ideas about why we haven’t gone,” Buffy said, seemingly reading her thoughts. She approached Veronica and laid a hand on her shoulder, near the remnants of her bite. “Sorry about your neck.”

“What?” Veronica demanded, raising a hand to it. She scurried over to a mirror on Buffy’s dresser and inspected it. It was pink, not quite a hickey, but… “Well, back to high-collared shirts it is.” She sighed.

“Would you be disappointed if I promised it would never happen again?” Buffy ventured, sounding oddly vulnerable in a thinly false-playful voice. She chuckled nervously. Veronica smiled sadly.

“Walk me to my car, Summers.” Veronica challenged playfully, “It’s the least you can do.” Buffy reached for the knob and paused.

“What would I have to do to see you again?” she asked quietly. Veronica laid a hand on her hip, coming up behind her.

"We both spend our days on the same grounds, and you have access to security cameras...the answer to that question seems kinda obvious. Undeniably creepy, but obvious." Then Buffy shoots her a look, and Veronica continues. “I’ll call you the next time my dad’s out of town.” She said quietly in the older girl’s ear. Buffy turned her head to the side and smiled at her out of the corner of her eye. She pulled the door open.

They walked down the hallway, not saying anything, allowing the eyes of the older brunette and redhead to follow them out the door and down the walk as they made their way to Veronica’s car. As she climbed into the drivers seat, she rolled the window down. Buffy kissed her briefly and smiled sadly. Veronica just nodded. “Good luck with Faith.” Veronica offered. Buffy rolled her eyes.

“Don’t worry,” Buffy assured her, “I have a few secrets on her that might help keep her quiet.”

“If not, you know who to call.” Veronica offered.

She started her car and drove the few short blocks home. As she pulled to a stop in front of her apratment, she saw that her dad must have been inside. He was probably cooking dinner and about to watch the Sharks game. He wasn’t expecting her back so soon. She pulled the car into reverse and got back on the road.

She needed to speak with Mac.

(To Be Continued…)