“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…