Story: Lost Scenes... (chapter 2)

Authors: Pat Kelly

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Chapter 2

Title: ...From Freshman Year

Sisters Doin' It For Themselves

...and Other Frightening Sights

Buffy and Veronica stood just inside the Zeta Theta Beta House, undercover in their light and airy sundresses, bracing themselves for three hours of wishing they were somewhere else. Singing, why'd there have to be singing?

They had to remember it was all to stop a rapist. Greater good. Noble cause and--

"Quit trying to look at my ass," the slayer whispered, catching her girlfriend attempting to discreetly lean back.

Veronica sighed. "Never a windy grate around when ya need one." Then she whispered herself as a Theta Beta approached, "Which circle did Dante say this was on again?"

"Six. ‘N'a half," reminded Buffy promptly. "There's also where every Adam Sandler movie made after 1999 is."

It was all coming back to Veronica now. "And all those ‘comedy' specials Gallagher did in the eighties, right." Beat. "Game faces."

"Hi! Welcome to Zeta Theta Beta. I'm Hallie. What're your names?" The girl's chipmunk voice greeted, chirpily.

And best, fake chipper smile...


Hallie was filling out a heart-shaped nametag. "Oh my gawd--I used to have a little Shih Tzu named ‘Veronica.'" She put it on the new "pledge."

"What a coincidence."

Just keep smiling...just keep smiling...

"Buffy." The slayer took her turn.

"Just like the sweet, old, rich lady on ‘Gilligan's Island.' Too cute." Another name, another tag from Hallie. "So are you like, you know," Her voice dropped, "together?"

"Once. *Way* too much ‘Grey Goose,'" cracked the detective, trying to gauge the Theta Beta's member's reaction to the mention of alcohol.

Hallie laughed. "Tell me about it."

Though befuddled by the reaction to her name, Buffy managed to contribute, "We've known each other since forever."

Veronica nodded, filing away what she'd just learned. "Inside our respective wombs? Communicated telepathically."

Hallie melted like ditzy, blond butter. "Aww! You guys are totally adorable! I think you're gonna *love* being one of us."

"'One of Us'?" Veronica repeated once the girl walked to the next victim, and they were relatively alone. "Somebody's been reading ‘Cult Slanguage For Dummies.'"

Then she got a good look her girlfriend's nametag. And her game face broke to allow barely restrained laughter to surface.

"What?" Buffy ripped off the nametag and saw what was written there.


Even without the "Gilligan's Island" reference, there was still the sexual connotation, which they both assumed was lost on Hallie. Despite how annoyed she was, Buffy hugged Veronica as her laughter/crying became less and less restrained, and began drawing attention.

"She had a Shih Tzu, too. Died. She's having a really hard time," Buffy offered to the onlookers. "It got sat on."

Then she was back to whispering. "Nobody hears about this. And later? Say *nothing* to me. Be wordless. *Veronika*." She wasn't the only one with a botched tag. "When did you become a bulimic, Russian runway model?"

Veronica showed no signs of stopping.

"We're on a mission here!" Buffy hissed.

While she hid Veronica from the sorority house, her gaze settled on a tall, leggy, wavy-haired redhead. Her Spidey-Sense tingled off the chart. She decided on the spot, that she wasn't leaving Veronica alone with her--claws were at the ready.

But while she was in this position, she figured she'd attempt to peer down over her girlfriend's shoulder and see what she could see.



Oh, (Alley) Balls!

"Bring it in, boys," Veronica directed the bowling alley employees, who were carrying the ramp to the lane.

The ramp used to help young children who couldn't yet hold a bowling ball, much less roll it. The two, teenage gentlemen set it down, and snickered in Buffy's direction before going/running away, seeing the look in her eyes. Veronica's amused with herself smile took a bit of a hit when she saw Buffy un-amused, arms across chest.

"This isn't helping me be less mad," said the slayer to her girlfriend.

Veronica showed "The Face," and hoped that was enough. "Love you, but occasionally, your lack of imagination makes me one, sad panda--don't you see the possibilities?"

She walked to the ball rack, got a ball, and placed that chosen ball at the top of the ramp. Next, she got behind Buffy. Her arms slid underneath Buffy's, and she placed her hands back on the ball. This brought their bodies in close contact at several points. That was the plan.

Buffy, however, was not in on that plan. "What're you doing?"

"I *was* going to impart my bowling wisdom using a ‘hands on' approach, but if you're not interested..." Veronica tried to sound as "whatever" about it as possible, but she soon felt Buffy's hands covering hers. "Okay, on a Spanish three. Uno, dos...wait for the sexual tension to peak, and...tres."

They pushed together, and watched the ball roll weakly down the lane, into the gutter.

"And now? Beer."

Buffy's eyebrow quirked. "That was bowling wisdom?"

"I never said it was vast."




Several feet back, Piz slouched on the bench and exhaled. "I'm pretty sure I should enjoy watching that, but you know, I don't."

He arranged this outing, see, and invited Veronica himself, over Wallace's vague suggestion that he forget about it. The very same Wallace who was ditching to study, therefore making tonight even less easy to bear. But his roommate clearly knew what he was beginning to realize--Buffy and Veronica weren't a "college thing." He would've known that before now, had Wallace not refused to discuss their relationship.

Veronica certainly didn't. And Piz didn't know much about Buffy. Tonight was his first time really seeing them together. It was kind of disheartening. Having a crush had an ugly side, and this was it.

"Don't you think they're awesome together?" Parker asked, down the bench, but scooting her way closer and closer. "Mac said they were mad at each other for like, the first time a couple days ago, but you can't even tell."

She had passed spitting distance in her proximity. "It's funny the way two people can really, connect, isn't it? I mean, in the right situation, with the right mood..."

"Uh, yeah," agreed Piz, trying to hide how uncomfortable he was. "I never thought TomKat would make it, but they just show us how much we still don't understand that word called, ‘love.' Ron Hubbard made a match. Bet he's somewhere proud...on his spaceship."

When Parker laughed, he sat up and forward, feeling his body tense up.

He commenced deterring. "It's wrong to encourage that. Maybe not legally, but it should be. Carrot Top rode his whole career on pity laughs and hair; I wanna earn what little I get. Legitimately."

"It was funny," she responded in counter.

"No...wasn't even ‘Horatio Sanz' funny. Thanks, though."

He tapped his hands together nervously, and tried to inch over the other way.

"Well, is it okay if I think your hair's a lot better than Carrot Top's?" She asked with a, "give me a sign" smile. "Makes you look...sensitive."

If he didn't know she was interested in him, he would've thought that to be a "kiss of death" compliment.

"Personally, I've always liked ‘soulful,' and I know you probably meant ‘quietly feminine,' but it's cool. Happens when you go for a circa-1998, ‘Johnny Resnick' look."

"Hey, after what happened to me? A nice, sensitive, soulful guy is *exactly* what I need," she assured him that that was a good thing. "Like you, Piz. You're reminding me that not all men are horrible, disgusting pieces of crap that keep getting stuck on my shoes. Which is a huge thing, I completely mean that--thank you."

Aw, nuts.

He smiled weakly back at her. "Welcome."

At the conversation's awkward-for-him lull, they viewed the girlfriends' latest antics together--Veronica was literally trying to pull Buffy onto the lane.

"I don't think we're ever gonna get to play an actual game tonight," Parker took an educated guess, but chuckling, she didn't seem to care.

"Uh huh." Piz was now even more tortured.




"You're jaywalking. In a bowling alley," Buffy pointed out to her rule-breaking friend and lover. "You're ‘jalleywalking.'"

Veronica ignored the accusation, having succeeded in making her step onto the lane.

"I hope that hasn't been already coined. It deserves an entry right between ‘jalapeno' and ‘jalopy.' My first call when we get outta here? Noah Webster. Going straight to the top. Or, more accurately, to the bottom--‘bout six feet oughta do it. We have a shovel, right?"

"So you'd raise a zombie, dictionary-inventor guy--who won't stay slayed ‘cause there's a mask again--and hog all my credit?" Buffy accused, then to add further insult, "Jalleywalker."

Veronica looked offended. "Like I'd selfishly raise the dead for personal gain; it's all for yours. Yes, that's how much I care."

"Till they start becoming multiple zombies and eating people."

"Oh, then I throw you to some likely reanimated wolves. Posthaste," answered Veronica succinctly, grinning.

She squeezed both the hands she still held. "But what's any of this hafta do with the price of fish?"

Beat as she looked down at their feet. "Both're sporting the required footwear, lane's paid for. I'm read up on the letter of the law, and, tonight anyway, abiding. For once. If ya can't define your own term, maybe I better hog it for myself."

Buffy smiled, conceding this thing, but she wanted to make it clear that she hadn't conceded everything. "It still isn't okay how you decided to basically attack him, Veronica."

Veronica knew she disappointed her girlfriend, but what had she been supposed to think?

"Weevil was the most--"

"--frame-able," finished the slayer her own way. "There coulda been DNA on Lilly's necklace, and you wouldn't've believed it was me."

"Yeah, except you're not Weevil, Buffy. He didn't earn himself a sorted, criminal past and that brief stay in the California, penal system, by accident," Veronica offered, fairly rationally.

"Fine, he's done crime, which he misses," Buffy wasn't ignorant of those facts, "but that shouldn't matter."

To Veronica and Veronica's face, no math in the world made that add up. Would not compute, as the Lamb-Bot might say.


"Because he's our friend, he's never crimed against us, and he told you he didn't. *I* told you he didn't." To Buffy, the math was very basic.

"And you I believed," said the detective seriously. "But where the evidence led, I had to follow. You know I'm compulsive that way."

"How come you can believe me and not him? ‘Cause I'm ‘Good'? ‘Cause of maybe sex again?"

Didn't Buffy get it?

Veronica frowned for reasons numerous. "I don't trust him. He's lied to me before. At some point, everyone in my life has. Could've been big, could've been relatively off-white...but they have. You excluded."

She was getting serious herself here. "When we were fifteen, you told me the biggest secret you'll ever need to keep, knowing there was a strong chance I'd react exactly how it played out."

She still carried guilt around over that--Buffy had trusted *her*, and she let her down.

"So I *know* you'd never lie to me. Unless something makes me look fat, then intend to," she smirked before honestly smiling. "You're the only person I trust's that for pressure?"

"Kay," Buffy was slow to respond to that admission, near floored, "wow. Tonight I'm kinda won over."

There was no maybe about sex later. Then tomorrow, they'd figure out who falsely fake-ified Veronica's paper on the Internet.

"Does that mean you'll be my ball, and kick down the pins for me?" Veronica asked hopefully. "Smithers did it for Mr. Burns..."




Parker was no idiot. While Buffy booted poor, defenseless pins, she finally saw that when the rest of the alley's eyes went to the spectacle, Piz's eyes remained on Veronica. It wasn't a real boost for her self-confidence.

"The fight wasn't just about who left the cap off the toothpaste. Stab in the dark," he surmised, talking more to himself. "But there they are, being asked to leave together."

It was true, they'd attracted managerial attention.

"I don't have a shot in hell."

"Nope. Not at all," she had to agree.

Beginning to feel the stirrings of confidence, she didn't just mean with Veronica. She wouldn't be his consolation prize. Was that kicking him when he was down? Eh, whatever.




No P.H.A.T Chicks

"So, you wanna pose together?" The debatably metrosexual, vegan, P.H.A.T (People for Humane Animal Treatment) member asked as Buffy, Mac and Veronica took in the camera equipment and the calendar's "naked" theme, illustrated by the photo on the computer.

This case had gotten them in over their heads. For the want of a stolen, lab monkey. Veronica was nearly ready to cash in. Who cared if these student, animal rights activists were the most likely suspects?

"Uh, my mom always taught me three's kind of like, crowded? But-but they already do," Mac said, thumbing in the direction of the girlfriends.

Veronica tried to discreetly shoot Mac "eye beams of death." Then she found herself nodding, looking at Buffy.

"Totally. We know all the best poses."

"Yeah." Buffy was still rather shell-shocked. "We just don't--"

"--share this knowledge publicly."

"Uh huh." The slayer finally came out of it. "Well, at least not in ‘calendar' form."

"June? Not our greatest month," the detective turned on the bullshit. "It'd compromise the group's whole message for the rest of the year. And September's not a real winner either."

"Ask her again after a couple, Irish coffees," suggested Mac, hand over her mouth, and Veronica promptly applied pressure to her foot.

Buffy pondered, and had to support, "It isn't pretty. They're like her only weakness."

Veronica felt mildly betrayed. "Hey, anyone remember Chumbawamba?" She pointed to her girlfriend, who gaped. "I think I've said enough."

"I thought you guys were committed," the Daria-wannabe member spoke up.

"Wanna commit somebody..." Buffy mumbled under her breath.

"Don't act like you wouldn't bust me the frak out with a water fountain," whispered Veronica back at her, grinning. "Go ahead, Chief--deny it. But lie to yourself like that? Why?"

"'Kay, I would. After the lobotomy."

Their P.H.A.T recruiters turned to Mac for help. She just gave them a, "You have no idea" look.



Pimpin' Ain't Easy

Veronica closed the door once they finally got a heart-shattered Max to leave the apartment. That Wendy was one, sly swindler of a prostitute. She could almost respect the skill, if she weren't so incensed.

Buffy sat in what she'd affectionately dubbed, the "Zebra Chair," a disbelieving, "What the hell was that?" expression on her face.

"Please promise we won't try matchmaking again. This whole night is why we shouldn't branch out, and why Chuck Woolery is way better at it."

Veronica put her hands up. "Am I arguing?"

Buffy smirked. "Not yet."

"Har-har." The detective's eyes were un-amused eyes. "Our commercials could never compete with eHarmony's infectious, ad juggernaut, anyway."

As her girlfriend came over and climbed into her lap, Buffy stated, "I'm coming with. To see the judge."

"See" meaning, "extort/blackmail." Getting Max's money back from aforementioned prostitute was the goal, so it was for a good cause. The guy was a dupe, but decent enough. Not a trait you'd expect out of someone with a lucrative business selling exams and essays, and yet...

But naturally the slayer was coming. Veronica had already assumed.

"Note how she *still*, doesn't put up an argument. Lesson's been learned. You're my secret weapon."

"Just what I always wanted to be," smiled Buffy, and once Veronica found a comfy position, she reached her hands around front, gripping waist. "Um, before the double cross? When they were--"

"Crowding every square centimeter of first base?"

"That's not us, is it?"

Long pause while they both considered.

"No way," Veronica denied.

"Yeah. No," Buffy agreed.

"Don't forget, one of us is butch."

"Ooh. Right." The slayer liked that reasoning. Liked it a lot. "Daintily butch."

Long Pause: The Next Generation.

"Do you want a hooker? 'Cause I'll buy you a hooker," queried Veronica.

Buffy didn't falter. "Y'know, if you were a hooker, I could buy you."

"While absolutely the answer we were looking for..." Veronica was immensely proud of how wise her girlfriend was. " that scenario, you're so my pimp. Keepin' me fresh."

"Daisy fresh?"

"As if there's any other kind."
"Okay, but...I want, and am taking, seventy-five percent."

Veronica gasped. Then huffed. "Fine. Then I'll just bide my time 'til Richard Gere pulls a white limo 'round my corner. It'll happen."

The slayer didn't see what she was so huffy about. "What? I'm being generous. I don't hafta give you anything. S' in the rules."

"Anything except some 'Florida Snow,' right? 'Wacky Dust'? 'California Cornflakes'? Make sure I stay in line," Veronica rattled off, accusatorily. "Call that 'fresh'? Geez."

"I didn't ask for 'pimp' status! You gave." Buffy pinched her side.

"Coulda declined." Veronica squirmed--she was pinched again. "Just because you temporarily have tactical advantage..."

And again. She "grr'd" in frustration; Buffy giggled.

"Of course you realize, this means war."

And pinch again.

She sighed. "Eventual war. Long conflict, heavy casualties." Pinch. "Are you five? Is this 'Big' in reverse?"

Buffy grinned. "Love hurts...sometimes. Mostly it pinches, though."

"So Elaine Paige is a liar? I'm supposed to buy that? Fat chance." Veronica couldn't believe the gall.

"Stop me," challenged Buffy.

"I could. Anytime," Veronica responded to the challenge. "Opportunist that I am, I'm holding out for my moment. To strike. Isn't here yet."

"Lemme know when it is, then."




Why Would Michael Scofield Want to Leave?

Two, parted lovers--one free, one imprisoned--stared at each other across jail cell bars.

"It's not the same in here without you...remember how it used to be?" Veronica spoke longingly. "We didn't know the meaning of 'Lights Out.'"

"Back." Buffy's jaw set. She seemed determined.

With all her slayer strength, she grunted, pulling the bars apart just enough to let her bend down, get flexible and squeeze through.

Veronica grinned widely, beckoning her new cell mate with her hands. "Come to Marge."

She'd make her own conjugal visit. They owed the escaped Josh Barry a "thanks."

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