Five
Buffy "went home sick" from her shift today. It was one-hundred percent bull-honkey, but no one at the Hut raised any objections, so she split before her lie could be exposed. Veronica would've known, but Veronica had chosen just not to come in at all. For it was Saturday, and she was now a normal, irresponsible teenager enjoying the breezy days of summer, refusing to be confined by the Man's work-a-day world. Also a lie. It all had to do with avoidance--nothing more, nothing less.
They got through Thursday and Friday, but had reached the point where the fact that they'd crossed into new territory, so to speak, was getting harder to mutually ignore. Their comfort level, while not shattered, was shaky; they weren't sure how to act. And that sucked.
But it was an inevitable consequence. Buffy kept reminding herself that as she walked along the surf on Dog Beach. It was an inevitable consequence of kissing a person with whom you've had a friendship since your mothers trapped you in a playpen together.
When Lianne Mars and Joyce Summers met as college roommates at Hearst freshman year, Buffy bet they never thought back then that they'd be able to even stand each other, let alone have daughters who would become as tight-knit as she and Veronica were. Or had been. Or were again. Or weren't because of one, small, literal slip of the tongue. Honestly, she didn't know what their situation was now, or who kissed who first. Did it mean anything? Should it?
Gah. Things could change so fast. Suddenly, being in Neptune wasn't so familiar anymore.
"Ho! Do my eyes deceive me?" Out of the blue, Eli "Weevil" Navarro's voice was coming from somewhere. "'Cause if they are, I promise to say a couple Hail Marys for breaking your stride. But if I'm seeing who I think I am? Then what the *hell* would she wanna hang around here for?"
Strike that--some things still were familiar. Some people, too.
"Oh, hey, Weevil."
Buffy had been watching her steps, so she hadn't seen Weevil and the young, five-year-old girl with him, building a sandcastle away from the water.
The leader of the PCH bike gang was without them; given his current company, she figured it was a family outing. She watched as he told the girl something (part of it probably an apology for cursing), and then the girl nodded and ran to a woman sunbathing on a beach towel. He then came over.
"'Oh, hey'?" He parroted Buffy's distracted tone. "Naw. Hafta know that's not gonna cut it, Hazel Eyes."
Spreading his arms out, he went to go hug her in greeting. "Don't try to fight it, girl...just let Weevil do his thing, make it easy on yourself."
She smirked and let him envelop her in a loose but warm hug, which she returned. "Still the most charming bad ass in Neptune, huh?"
Ending their hug he said, smirking back at her, "All got our crosses to bear."
"Ain't that the truth," she agreed after a slow breath. "So who's the little girl?"
"My niece. Ophelia. Her mother's kind of between employers right now, so we thought we'd use her time off to take the kid here for the day," he explained. "Can't get enough of her 'Uncle Eli.'"
"I can see why--he builds a mean castle," she commented on his work.
"Oughta see my drawbridge," he added suggestively, gathering up broken seashells in the sand at his feet. "So not only does she come back, but she heads straight for the barrio, too."
He chucked a shell into the ocean. "Be careful if I were you. Picked up some new members while you've been gone...who don't know you got a pass."
And he chucked another. "They spot a white girl on our turf, that's gonna cause a problem."
"When I beat them down for trying to gang-grope me," Buffy filled in the blank.
"And another headache like *that*? I don't need. Not when there're so many other pressing concerns requirin' my attention."
His next throw had a bit more "oomph" to it.
"You really think he did it?" Buffy asked, knowing he was referring to Logan and the upcoming trial.
The look he gave her said quite clearly that he wasn't willing to talk on that subject. He just pointed to the fading bruise on his head, and she held her hands up in peace.
"Well, I just came here to, um, have some quiet, reflecting-time, that's all," she explained.
He handed her a couple shells. "How long you been back?"
"About three weeks; needed a break from my life. I've been staying with Veronica," she said, taking her turn and throwing a shell into the sea. "Reconnecting and...uh, basically just reconnecting."
There was a loaded word. She waited for his next question.
"This break have something to do with a bloodsucker?"
Her next shell got launched with full, super-force behind it. They both lost it in the sun.
She admitted, "Something, yeah."
Yes, Weevil knew. She was the first, tiny, blonde girl--who he wasn't getting to know intimately on the side--that he ever gave the time of day to. Not long after she discovered her new talents, she used them, almost instinctually, to get a couple '09er jocks away from one of Weevil's female cousins. It freaked his cousin out, but Buffy earned his gratitude and respect, and the respect of his gang.
So he took her at her word when she told him why she needed to get to L.A. night after night, and was able to turn to him for transportation. Or, if he was otherwise occupied with Lilly Kane, then it was usually Chardo. To start, anyway.
A few times, she couldn't avoid them getting involved. The PCHers were surprisingly religious; when the rest heard the stories, they started making the drive as a whole. When they had an opportunity to take down a vampire, they didn't waste it. Which meant, when she went up against the vampire who murdered her first watcher inside that gym, she'd had backup to help light the fire.
Some people died, a lot got hurt, but for those who survived, it was probably the first time they felt like they'd done something truly good. Going through a battle like that tied people together for the rest of their lives. Race, gender and wealth be damned.
"Hope you gave 'the fang' hell," said Weevil, hand absently tracing his thigh over his jeans, where they both knew the scar was from that night.
"Nail on head, actually," she admitted with a twinge of sadness. "I lost my boyfriend because of it."
That was as much truth as he was getting.
"Sorry..." He offered, while holding onto his masculine exterior. "Guy treat you right?"
"Better than I treated him," she said, regretfully blaming herself again. "I guess I'm waiting for...I don't know what I'm waiting for. Things to be okay again? Me to feel okay?"
"And you thought quality time with Veronica Mars would be the cure," he deduced.
She eyed him cautiously. "Was that an innuendo? I think it was; I'm getting a definite 'innuendo' vibe. Do you know we kissed? How do you know we kissed?"
Her mouth was covered several words too late. She was easily taken by paranoia. While he eyed her like she'd gone loco.
"Figured that was old news. You sayin' you weren't before?"
"No!" Buffy was thrown by this. "Who else thought--?"
"Lilly." He saw her about to disbelieve, but kept going. "Oh yeah. Talked me to death about the two'a you. Said you 'shared the same brain,' and that you'd both give 'The Look' every time the other wasn't watchin'. Dunno what she meant, but, really ticked her off."
"But there were male people," protested Buffy, "we liked male people. How could we give off a...?"
A light-bulb lit for him just now.
"Ah...so now that you caught up, you're worried about giving your boy his due." Grinning, Weevil was proud of himself. "I have you figured, Hazel Eyes."
"Congratulations. Unfortunately, no medals to give," she told him sarcastically.
Of course it was Angel. If she was kissing Veronica, then she wasn't grieving. And if she wasn't grieving, she wasn't punishing herself, either; as far as she was concerned, regardless of whether or not she was tired of wallowing already, she had much more to put herself through before it would be right to kiss *anyone* else.
Besides, what drove the "Veronica Kiss?" Her wanting to, her not wanting to be lonely, or her wanting to transfer her feelings for Angel to Veronica, because she *was* grieving, and more often than not, bottling it? Every option except the first was unfair to Veronica, and a surefire way to ruin a lifelong friendship.
"Unca Eli! Take me in the water!" Ophelia yelled, running towards them.
Buffy smiled. "Go ahead, Weevil. I'll be fine. Say 'hi' to your family for me."
"Look, if he was good to you, then the guy'd want you happy, right?" He asked, pulling off his tank top, then his shoes and socks.
Thankfully, his jeans stayed on. After her brow was done rising, Buffy had to nod that that sounded plausible.
"Don't add up sometimes, I know--you think I ever, in a million years, *wanted* to fall for Lilly Kane hard as I did? But you feel what you feel." He put his fist up, and she knocked it. "Don't be a stranger, hear?"
"I won't," she promised, as he gathered up his niece onto his shoulders.
"And by the way, never said--"
"Got it," she smiled, knowing he wasn't entirely the woman-using bad ass he always presented.
Then it was right back to reflecting. Albeit with some more food for thought.
________
What was Veronica doing? Much the same as her friend, except while stationary and indoors. She was in her room, lying on her bed, staring at the ceiling. At a time like this, she'd usually lose herself in a case, but she wasn't doing that anymore, so this "laying and staring" thing was the best she could come up with.
Naturally, Lilly wound up beside her. "Just because we're in bed together, that doesn't mean you can just go ahead and French me without asking, okay?"
"I thought you were..." Veronica didn't look away from the ceiling.
"At peace?" Lilly finished her living friend's sentence. "Yeah, well, nobody bothers to mention it? But peace is boring. That, and I *had* to get away from Cobain--he still thinks he's alive, ya know. I mean, seriously...he's been worm food for what, like eleven years? And it was suicide! Get a clue."
"So you came all the way from the afterlife just to make fun of me?" Veronica asked grumpily.
"No!" Lilly objected vehemently. "Geez, you solve a girl's murder and all the sudden it stops being, 'Oh, poor Lilly, words can't describe how much I miss you,' and then the bitchy attitude starts. Does that come with the G.L.A.A.D card or something?"
Veronica turned her head and glared. "What was that?"
"Uh, a question?" Lilly responded, professing ignorance. "Hey, I was saving myself for college; it's not my fault I never got the chance to join."
When her friend frowned, she poked her on the head. "Relax, I'm over it. I got killed by Aaron Echolls! Do you know what that means? I'm gonna be famous forever!"
Veronica smirked. "Because *that's* why I spent a whole year of my life finding out who really killed you."
Of course Lilly would think like that.
"Why're you here?" The ex-detective asked.
"To apologize...and help you out," answered Lilly, causing Veronica to sit herself up against the wall of her room and look puzzled.
Lilly sat up, too. "I kept trying to bring you into the twenty-four-hour music video that was my life. I loved it, obviously, but even as 'La Femme Nikita' as you are now, that's not your thing," she informed the blonde, knowingly. "And you can pretend to be as hardboiled as you want, Veronica Mars, but that doesn't change the fact that your heart's in everything you do. Even in the total lust fest you're having with *my* boyfriend."
Veronica averted her eyes. "It just sort of, uh, happened--"
"Didn't anybody ever tell you to respect the dead? 'Cause when they talk, you're supposed to shut up and be all like, reverent," Lilly cut her off, staring her down until Veronica made a zipper motion over her lips.
She sighed like she felt very put out. "Buffy's always been on your wavelength; could've seen you two clicking from Napa. But since she didn't wanna realize how awesome I was and follow, especially in high school, I didn't encourage 'young love' like I should have."
"You knew?" Veronica was wide-eyed.
"The *janitor* knew."
"Okay, that's something I never needed to hear."
Lilly laughed at the look on her living friend's face, and continued when she couldn't anymore. "So...sorry." Her hand went to Veronica's knee. "Now this part? Easy process of elimination."
She began counting off on her fingers. "My brother, even though I love him because I'm obligated? No way. There was a time, but that's long past. You're on a different level...and he's the same-old Donut. Besides, can't expect lightning to strike twice."
"Plus he's dating Meg," Veronica pointed out. "At least, I think he still is."
"Manning?" Lilly's face twisted in horror. "God, he *needs* to move on from the 'Ken and Barbie' fantasy. Like, soon."
She shuddered. "Anyway...where was I going? Oh, right." Beat. "Remember how I said your heart was in it? Well, Logan's is in it more; you hafta see that. He's clinging to you like a life preserver, Veronica; both swimming in dangerous waters if you ask me," she said, seriously. "*And* he's got serious anger problems to work through. Believe me, I saw 'em first."
Veronica knew this, but she still didn't like it. "But I don't wanna hurt him; he doesn't have anybody anymore, Lilly. And Dick doesn't count."
Lilly nodded sadly, understanding that. "Still, better get ready--'cause ya may have to."
After taking a moment to accept that, Veronica asked, "Lemme guess--Buffy's next in line?"
"Try last. She went and got herself just damaged enough to be interesting. Like you," smirked Lilly. "I know you like her, you know you like her, so quit being a dumb ass and trying to figure out why. You live in your head way too much; for once, do yourself a favor, and go with it."
She smiled, taking that one, last shot.
"Feel what you feel. I mean, come on...the truth's been out there *forever* already." Then she looked at Veronica's clock--it was blinking "12:00 A.M." "Oops, gotta go."
Veronica, still lying on her bed, woke up from her dream.
________
Buffy was standing in Veronica's doorway. "Hey."
Veronica sat up, for real this time, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed and turning to her friend. "Hey."
________
If there was a clock with minute and hour hands in Veronica's bedroom, you'd be able to hear ticking pretty loud. Veronica patted her hands on her knees, looking around the room and whistling Harmonica's theme from "Once Upon a Time in the West." It seemed appropriate given that they were both being inscrutable like Charles Bronson, and there was a severe lack of talk.
Buffy, for her part, was at least moving around the room keeping the blood flowing. She instigated this not-conversation without exactly knowing what she was going to say. Not one of her smarter moves, but she knew if she put it off, it would've just kept getting put off. Now she had no choice but to eventually say something constructive, or else walk out and look like a jerk.
What was that sitting at the rear of Veronica's bed?
"This is why Mary Todd Lincoln went insane," stated Veronica as Buffy came over and grabbed what turned out to be a photo album.
"Her husband being balcony-assassinated right next to her might've been a factor, too," Buffy said in a preoccupied fashion, sitting on the bed's edge and opening up the album.
"That? *Bang*--over in a New York minute. Wasn't like he bled to death. Yeesh, lady--move on." When Veronica went off like this, it meant she didn't know what to say, either.
Buffy felt less pressured. "Weren't New York minutes slower back then?"
Veronica didn't let that deter her. "Must you always poke holes through my historical diatribes? Think in this last year apart, you would've found a new pastime."
"I did, remember? And it's...a *lot* less fun. Way more angsty. But it's not 'need.' Or 'want,' even. Just, somebody has to eventually--why not me?"
The slayer shrugged, more focused on the photos in the album she rested on her lap. "We finished? 'Cause these're from Six Flags, right?" Buffy asked semi-rhetorically, as she had eyes and could see the amusement park backdrop.
She slid down next to Veronica. "Sixth grade Easter break."
"The first of many, 'If you get good grades...' payoffs. What a perfect system--we got trips, the 'Rents got bragging rights that fit nicely on a bumper," Veronica smirked, staring down at the pictures with her. "Was looking at this before I fell asle--"
"Our memories cause dozing?" Buffy questioned, sounding a step or two away from crushed.
Veronica coughed. "Yeah, since there's no way to backpedal out of this gracefully," she quickly laid a finger over a photo, "look! Daffy Duck took this right after you threw up in that trashcan. By the exit to 'Goliath.' Doesn't it put you right back in the moment?"
She received a dirty look. "I'm not the one who bought double prints on the way out. That's all on your mom."
"I shoulda stepped on his fat, stupid, webbed foot," Buffy grumbled, and then pointed her finger at Veronica accusingly. ""And *you*. It was your fault. Eat the corndog, you said. Let's go on the roller coaster, you said. What's the worst that could happen, you said."
The dirty look returned.
"I held your hair back, didn't I?" Veronica reminded her, and switched her gaze to another picture.
Then she gasped. "No. No way."
Buffy looked too. "Oh my god. That's 'The Look.' Right there."
There were two pictures of interest actually. Taken probably minutes apart. They were sitting on a bench, it looked to be dusk-ish, and they were obviously tired.
One picture had Buffy staring at Veronica as Veronica was using the large, purple gorilla her dad won for her in the "Duck Shoot" game, as a pillow; the other was of Veronica staring at Buffy discreetly, when Buffy was focused on asking her own dad, why he didn't win *her* a gorilla. But you could see "the like" going on.
"Mm," Veronica was shaking her head. "So now the question we have to ask ourselves is--how far back does this actually go? I mean, that day I gave you my juice box because you forgot yours? *That* could've been a come-on. We don't know."
"No wonder the whole world figured it out." Buffy was finally getting it. "We should've just worn signs--the glow-y, neon kind. Woulda been the same thing."
Veronica looked up from the album. "Excuse me? 'Whole world'?"
Did Dick Casablancas give her his insight, too?
Buffy looked up as well, realizing she may have overstated. "Um, Weevil. Kinda wasn't expecting, but my eyes saw. Whole world--in his hands. I think there's a song."
"You talked to Weevil? Today?" Veronica asked, her mind going to Logan and the bridge as Buffy nodded. "How is he?"
"Like he always is. Tattooed and Mexican," said Buffy, because, what else could she have said? "Except with a bruise."
Then she anticipated Veronica's next question. "He wouldn't talk about it; but he did say Lilly knew too, though. About how we repressed being attracted."
"I know, she told me," Veronica came out with, without going over it in her head first.
It earned her a strange look from Buffy.
"She may or may not be a ghost who haunts my dreams, all right?"
"A real one?" Buffy wondered. "'Cause, you know, I've met some. Well, more a poltergeist, specifically. And I guess one was kind of just invisible."
"Did you call Zelda Rubinstein or Dan Aykroyd?" Veronica questioned, to which Buffy childishly stuck out her tongue.
Hey, wait a second...
"Mutual attraction's been admitted," said Buffy. "Out loud. To each other. Am I the only one who realizes?"
"Huh." No, Veronica now realized it, too. "Well that went well. This is how everyone should awkwardly redefine their relationships from now on."
Setting the album to the side, Buffy wanted to be clear. "By not knowing they are?"
"Smoother sailing, is all," Veronica believed.
She waited a beat, then, "So...we're okay with this attraction? I'm a girl, you're a girl, best friends, yadda yadda yadda?"
"It was never really the 'girl' thing that worried; more the 'best friend' thing. Once you date a vampire, other taboos kinda pale," Buffy told her. "But yeah, I'm okay with. I mean, you're with Logan--"
"--and you have your issues--" Veronica interjected.
"--so, s'not exactly the best timing, but in the future, or near future, it'd probably be worth trying. Not that I'm saying you're gonna break up with Logan, or that I want you to..."
Buffy was babbling, but hopefully not as bad as Willow. "...okay, maybe I do a little, but I'd never ask. And I don't know how we'd manage the long distance, but I seriously doubt, seventeen years of friendship would suddenly implode if we didn't...mesh."
Veronica waited until she was sure Buffy was out of steam. "Agreed. And I'm for keeping the door of possibility open, don't get me wrong. But great though it was, another kiss can't happen."
"But in the near future--" Buffy started hopefully.
"--they might have a new word to write on my locker every day, as I move farther out on the social fringe," Veronica finished.
After a second, she continued with, "And really, a seventeen-year foundation could only be beneficial to the possible relationship. Possible, *future* relationship, that is."
"That's a point. A great point." Buffy was proud of this logical behavior they were exhibiting. "'Course, it isn't that we *can't* kiss."
"It's that we shouldn't," chimed in Veronica. "Because I'd be cheating--and you'd feel like you were--if we, as an example, kissed right now. We could explain the kitchen, but--"
Buffy's head tilted in question. "We could?"
Veronica gave her an "Of course" look.
"Anything can be explained, Buffy. Given enough time." She then resumed her original thought. "But if it happens again, it would just feel too much like a 90210 plot development. Or, to a lesser extent, 'The O.C.' Why jump in those murky waters?"
"And our relationship should get off on a foot of rightness," added Buffy. "Like you holding a stereo outside my window that's playing that Peter Gabriel song."
"I get to be Cusack?" Veronica said with a grin. "I gotta say, I like where your head's at, J.F.F.N."
When Buffy realized that she immediately deciphered the acronym and knew it meant, "Just Friend For Now," she thought maybe they did share the same brain.
"I believe we've accomplished something here." Veronica stuck her hand out. "What's say we make it official?"
Buffy put her hand in Veronica's, and they shook, firmly.
"We can do this," she believed.
But the entire agreement was sort of negated. Their faces somehow kept getting closer and closer together, and just like that, they were connected by the mouth. This forced them to re-agree, with a slight addendum--the agreement would be in effect once they left the bedroom.
And fifteen minutes later, they were as good as their word, by golly.
________