Fic: Five People That Veronica Never Met (But Should Have) (PG-13) Veronica
Title: Five People That Veronica Never Met (But Should Have)
Characters/pairing: Veronica
Word Count: 2057
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Veronica meets five different men. Massive crossover fic.
Spoilers/Warnings: General series spoilers for Veronica Mars, Doctor Who, Farscape, Angel, Law and Order, and Battlestar Galactica. Nothing terribly specific.
Author's note: Written for the 5thingsthat challenge. Thanks to truemyth for the excellent last minute beta.
Neptune
“That won’t do any good.”
Veronica nearly jumped out of her skin. She instinctively reached for her tazer before remembering she’d left it in the car. Between that and letting someone sneak up on her, she was doing just brilliantly.
She decided to play it innocent despite the lock-pick in her hands. She took in her accoster, tall, lanky, obviously British - his pose was relaxed, casual even. He’d made no physical moves toward her, which was good since right now she had nothing to fight back with.
“I - I’m sorry?”
He grinned at her, like it was no big deal.
“I fixed the lock. You won’t get in that way.”
She glared and began to cast about for another method of entry. Not that she’d be able to get in tonight with this guy hanging around but - that window ought to do the trick.
“That won’t do you any good either.” Off her irritated look he beamed at her, “I’ve shut down the building, see?”
She had a feeling she’d missed something important somewhere along the line but couldn’t for the life of her think what it might be.
The man continued, still cheerfully, “Can’t have anyone wandering around when the bomb goes off. Wouldn’t be safe.”
“The bomb?”
She definitely needed to get out of here. Would he let her go if she made a run for it?
“Oh, right. You should get moving, don’t want to be in range of the blast area.” He said this like it was the most everyday occurrence in the world and she found herself staying, fascinated, despite her better judgment.
“You’re bombing an elementary school?” She had a feeling she was staring.
“Don’t look at me like that; you’re breaking into one.”
“Well, yes, but I had a reason.”
“There you go. So have I.”
“I could call the cops.” She left out the part where he could probably stop her from making any calls. No need to dwell on that particular detail.
“True enough. Won’t do you any good though.” He patted down his pockets as though he was looking for something, almost as if he’d forgotten she was there. If she was going to run she needed to do it now.
“It won’t?”
“Nope.” He paused and seemed to take her in again. For a moment he had looked utterly serious and it was overwhelming. “I wasn’t kidding, you know, you really should get going. Maybe there’s a community center you could break into instead.” And just like that, in another second he was back to casual.
“Who are you?” Her voice sounded weak.
“Oh, sorry, I’m the Doctor, and you are?”
San Diego
She slipped into the stool at the bar. She didn’t usually drink but she couldn’t go home just yet. Not with Logan still wanting an answer, not after the hell that was the Bennet case. She groaned.
“Bad day?”
She turned to look at the guy next to her. Good looking in a vaguely familiar All American Football Hero sort of way. And at least fifteen years too old for her. And hot enough that she didn’t think she’d care. She shook her head, willing away the slightly lascivious thoughts, and contented herself with a noncommittal, “Something like that.”
He smiled warmly and somewhat sadly and stared into his beer. “I know the feeling.”
He was silent for a minute, and she wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or alarmed when he began to talk again. Not that he was flirting exactly. He seemed to seriously just be making conversation.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
She shrugged. “No, not so much.”
He merely nodded. “Fair enough.”
After a minute he called the barkeeper over.
“Could you get this lady a beer? It’s on me.”
This could only be a bad idea. “Oh, I’m not-“
“I just understand what it’s like to have a bad day.”
She studied him suspiciously but he still didn’t seem to be flirting. Opting to go with her gut, she smiled back and muttered her thanks.
A minute later, beer in hand and seized with a sense of mischievousness, she turned back to him.
“So who do you think would win?”
“I’m sorry?”
“Sob story contest. Which one of us do you think would win?”
That sad smile was back.
“Wouldn’t hardly be a contest.” By way of explanation, he offered his hand. “I’m John, by the way. John Crichton.”
“From the-?”
“Yup.”
“Oh. Wow.” Images from various news reports and tabloids warred for supremacy in her mind. Aliens. Spaceships. She realized she was still holding his hand. She flushed. “Sorry, I’m Veronica Mars.”
“Veronica Mars," he paused, frowning, "Why does that sound familiar?”
“Do you remember the Aaron Echolls case?”
“Oh. Oh.” His eyes widened with recognition.
“Yeah.”
“Maybe it’s better if we don’t compete.”
Los Angeles
It had been a hell of a day. A fight with a Grishnar demon, apologizing to the Grishnar clan for what was apparently an act of war, having to fire three employees, calling someone in to deal with the scorch marks - and now Lorne was throwing a fit in his lobby.
“I’m telling you she’s a fiend.” Lorne always got greener when he was upset and right now he was at the top of the spectrum.
“Our new client’s a fiend?”
Gunn shook his head. “Not a client, actually a witness for the prosecution in the Donahue case.”
“And she’s a fiend?” Angel grimaced. “I fought a fiend once. Nearly took me out. I wasn’t able to move my shoulder again for a month.”
“She’s not a literal fiend.” Gunn clarified. “She’s a college student, part time PI. Cute, blonde, probably dangerous. Totally your type, man.”
Lorne was still grumbling. “She might as well be a fiend. You saw what she did to Aaron Echolls a few years back? This girl is bad news.”
“Aaron Echolls the murderer? I'm sorry, don’t we like people who take down murderers?” asked Gunn incredulously.
“Well, right, fine, but that jawline people - do you know what that jawline is worth? I’m telling you there hasn’t been a decent action movie made since they put him away.”
“So this is Veronica Mars?” Angel interjected, glancing toward his office.
“Right, this is just a preliminary deposition. I gave you the file yesterday,” Gunn said.
“Well, gentlemen, let’s prepare to meet the beast.” Angel smiled his ‘company’ smile, and strode into the office, Gunn and Lorne following closely behind him.
“Miss Mars, hello. I’m Angel, CEO of Wolfram and Heart these are my colleagues, Mr. Gunn and Mr Lorne. Thank you for taking the time to meet with me.”
New York
“Miss Mars, I’m Detective Briscoe. This is Detective Green. Do you know why you were brought in?”
She shrugged, trying for casual, but he could see her mentally assessing the two of them. “You guys have actual reasons for bringing people in? I’d always figured it was some kind of hobby.”
“Only on the weekends.” He smiled, taking the seat across from her, while Green leaned against the table next to her.
Green slapped a Polaroid on the table. “You recognize this?”
She frowned minutely before turning blankly to the detectives. ”It’s my business card.”
“That card was found on the chest of a Mr. Danny Allen.”
If he hadn’t been listening for the faint catch of her breath, he wouldn’t have heard it. She had a hell of a pokerface.
“I’m guessing Mr. Allen isn’t around to explain what it was doing there?” She smiled brightly, almost casually, and he felt himself smirking back.
“She’s good.”
Green sighed and then smiled at Veronica, the perfect personification of ‘good cop.’ “Why don’t you give us your explanation?”
She shook her head, but while she kept her tone light, a bit of worry had crept into her eyes.
“I have no idea. I’ve never seen this man before.”
He took a long pull of his coffee. “So someone pinned your card to his chest for fun?”
“People have strange ideas of entertainment,” she replied blandly.
He laughed. Another point for the girl.
“Why not, it’s no stranger than Mets fans.”
Green frowned. “We’d appreciate your cooperation on this matter, Miss Mars.”
“Honestly, Detective,” she said. “I have no idea who this is.”
Her voice got tight.
“I don’t know what it’s doing there.”
Green nodded, all sympathy. “I believe you. But someone leaving your card there, I mean, you can understand why we’d be concerned, right?”
He looked to Lenny, who let an expression of fatherly sympathy take the place of his smirk. “Now, Veronica - is it okay if I call you Veronica? - do you have any idea who might have done this? Anyone who might be holding a grudge?”
She shrugged and the mask was back. “No, but I can get you a copy of my high school yearbook. You’ll want to start in the As.”
“Miss Mars.”
“I’ve only been here a few months. I haven’t had time to pick a favorite restaurant, let alone compile a list of enemies.”
“You should try Mario's. Great Italian," he grinned. He could go all day like this. Someone knocked on the door, and he rolled his eyes; they'd hardly gotten started.
A moment later, Van Buren poked her head in. “You two, you have a phone call.”
“I’ll take that.” He stood and made his way outside. It was funny, from outside she looked so small, fragile even. And if there was one thing this girl was not it was fragile.
The phone call was short but he found himself jotting notes as fast as he could. Yet even as he did he couldn’t help but note the edge of maliciousness in the caller’s tone. Definitely a personal grudge at work there.
He let himself back into the interrogation room. Green looked tired, although he hadn’t been left alone with her for more than ten minutes.
“If someone’s after me, they’re from Neptune,” she asserted.
“Speaking of Neptune, I had an interesting conversation just now. You know a Sheriff Lamb?”
“You talked to Lamb? And it was interesting?”
He grinned again, a slow smile that took over his features. “Seems it's not the first time your name has shown up on a dead body.”
The Colonial Fleet
He stopped pacing at the sight of the diminutive blond reporter. She wasn’t one he knew, but there were more reporters here than there were things to report half the time.
He nodded at her “Miss… Mars is it?”
Her smile was all professional courtesy and that journalistic fakeness. “Yes, I’m here representing the Neptune Navigator.”
“Oh, of course, please, have a seat.” She was an attractive thing, if a bit shorter than his usual taste.
“She’s too young for you, Gauis.”
He could feel her over his shoulder and he rolled his eyes.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, er, what you’re planning to discuss,” he amended, directing the end of his comment at Miss Mars.
“Well this is basically just a simple profile piece going into the election. A general biography, your campaign platform, humanizing anecdotes. The usual.”
“Ah, right.”
“So,” she murmured, crossing her legs demurely, and he wished her skirt was a little less sensible. “Can you tell us what you were doing when the attack began?”
Six smiled. “This should be interesting.”
“Ah, is this sort of question really necessary?”
The girl looked suspicious. “Mr. Baltar this was the defining moment not just of our generation, but of our species. A personal story of your experience will resonate extremely well.’
There was something he was missing, he knew it.
“Wake up, Gaius," Six whispered in his ear, "I won’t do everything for you.”
He shrugged her off. “Right! - well, I was actually at home at the time of the attacks. I don’t know if you’re aware of it, but I was one of the few who managed to get off Caprica after the bombing…”
He was too busy talking to notice the bug she slipped under his table. Too busy to realize what had happened till they arrested him three weeks later for his involvement in the destruction of humanity.
Two blondes made their way down the corridor watching as they led him away.
“Didn’t I tell you how easy it would be?” Lilly beamed at Veronica.
“And now that they have him, they won’t need to look for anyone else.”
Characters/pairing: Veronica
Word Count: 2057
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Veronica meets five different men. Massive crossover fic.
Spoilers/Warnings: General series spoilers for Veronica Mars, Doctor Who, Farscape, Angel, Law and Order, and Battlestar Galactica. Nothing terribly specific.
Author's note: Written for the 5thingsthat challenge. Thanks to truemyth for the excellent last minute beta.
Neptune
“That won’t do any good.”
Veronica nearly jumped out of her skin. She instinctively reached for her tazer before remembering she’d left it in the car. Between that and letting someone sneak up on her, she was doing just brilliantly.
She decided to play it innocent despite the lock-pick in her hands. She took in her accoster, tall, lanky, obviously British - his pose was relaxed, casual even. He’d made no physical moves toward her, which was good since right now she had nothing to fight back with.
“I - I’m sorry?”
He grinned at her, like it was no big deal.
“I fixed the lock. You won’t get in that way.”
She glared and began to cast about for another method of entry. Not that she’d be able to get in tonight with this guy hanging around but - that window ought to do the trick.
“That won’t do you any good either.” Off her irritated look he beamed at her, “I’ve shut down the building, see?”
She had a feeling she’d missed something important somewhere along the line but couldn’t for the life of her think what it might be.
The man continued, still cheerfully, “Can’t have anyone wandering around when the bomb goes off. Wouldn’t be safe.”
“The bomb?”
She definitely needed to get out of here. Would he let her go if she made a run for it?
“Oh, right. You should get moving, don’t want to be in range of the blast area.” He said this like it was the most everyday occurrence in the world and she found herself staying, fascinated, despite her better judgment.
“You’re bombing an elementary school?” She had a feeling she was staring.
“Don’t look at me like that; you’re breaking into one.”
“Well, yes, but I had a reason.”
“There you go. So have I.”
“I could call the cops.” She left out the part where he could probably stop her from making any calls. No need to dwell on that particular detail.
“True enough. Won’t do you any good though.” He patted down his pockets as though he was looking for something, almost as if he’d forgotten she was there. If she was going to run she needed to do it now.
“It won’t?”
“Nope.” He paused and seemed to take her in again. For a moment he had looked utterly serious and it was overwhelming. “I wasn’t kidding, you know, you really should get going. Maybe there’s a community center you could break into instead.” And just like that, in another second he was back to casual.
“Who are you?” Her voice sounded weak.
“Oh, sorry, I’m the Doctor, and you are?”
San Diego
She slipped into the stool at the bar. She didn’t usually drink but she couldn’t go home just yet. Not with Logan still wanting an answer, not after the hell that was the Bennet case. She groaned.
“Bad day?”
She turned to look at the guy next to her. Good looking in a vaguely familiar All American Football Hero sort of way. And at least fifteen years too old for her. And hot enough that she didn’t think she’d care. She shook her head, willing away the slightly lascivious thoughts, and contented herself with a noncommittal, “Something like that.”
He smiled warmly and somewhat sadly and stared into his beer. “I know the feeling.”
He was silent for a minute, and she wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or alarmed when he began to talk again. Not that he was flirting exactly. He seemed to seriously just be making conversation.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
She shrugged. “No, not so much.”
He merely nodded. “Fair enough.”
After a minute he called the barkeeper over.
“Could you get this lady a beer? It’s on me.”
This could only be a bad idea. “Oh, I’m not-“
“I just understand what it’s like to have a bad day.”
She studied him suspiciously but he still didn’t seem to be flirting. Opting to go with her gut, she smiled back and muttered her thanks.
A minute later, beer in hand and seized with a sense of mischievousness, she turned back to him.
“So who do you think would win?”
“I’m sorry?”
“Sob story contest. Which one of us do you think would win?”
That sad smile was back.
“Wouldn’t hardly be a contest.” By way of explanation, he offered his hand. “I’m John, by the way. John Crichton.”
“From the-?”
“Yup.”
“Oh. Wow.” Images from various news reports and tabloids warred for supremacy in her mind. Aliens. Spaceships. She realized she was still holding his hand. She flushed. “Sorry, I’m Veronica Mars.”
“Veronica Mars," he paused, frowning, "Why does that sound familiar?”
“Do you remember the Aaron Echolls case?”
“Oh. Oh.” His eyes widened with recognition.
“Yeah.”
“Maybe it’s better if we don’t compete.”
Los Angeles
It had been a hell of a day. A fight with a Grishnar demon, apologizing to the Grishnar clan for what was apparently an act of war, having to fire three employees, calling someone in to deal with the scorch marks - and now Lorne was throwing a fit in his lobby.
“I’m telling you she’s a fiend.” Lorne always got greener when he was upset and right now he was at the top of the spectrum.
“Our new client’s a fiend?”
Gunn shook his head. “Not a client, actually a witness for the prosecution in the Donahue case.”
“And she’s a fiend?” Angel grimaced. “I fought a fiend once. Nearly took me out. I wasn’t able to move my shoulder again for a month.”
“She’s not a literal fiend.” Gunn clarified. “She’s a college student, part time PI. Cute, blonde, probably dangerous. Totally your type, man.”
Lorne was still grumbling. “She might as well be a fiend. You saw what she did to Aaron Echolls a few years back? This girl is bad news.”
“Aaron Echolls the murderer? I'm sorry, don’t we like people who take down murderers?” asked Gunn incredulously.
“Well, right, fine, but that jawline people - do you know what that jawline is worth? I’m telling you there hasn’t been a decent action movie made since they put him away.”
“So this is Veronica Mars?” Angel interjected, glancing toward his office.
“Right, this is just a preliminary deposition. I gave you the file yesterday,” Gunn said.
“Well, gentlemen, let’s prepare to meet the beast.” Angel smiled his ‘company’ smile, and strode into the office, Gunn and Lorne following closely behind him.
“Miss Mars, hello. I’m Angel, CEO of Wolfram and Heart these are my colleagues, Mr. Gunn and Mr Lorne. Thank you for taking the time to meet with me.”
New York
“Miss Mars, I’m Detective Briscoe. This is Detective Green. Do you know why you were brought in?”
She shrugged, trying for casual, but he could see her mentally assessing the two of them. “You guys have actual reasons for bringing people in? I’d always figured it was some kind of hobby.”
“Only on the weekends.” He smiled, taking the seat across from her, while Green leaned against the table next to her.
Green slapped a Polaroid on the table. “You recognize this?”
She frowned minutely before turning blankly to the detectives. ”It’s my business card.”
“That card was found on the chest of a Mr. Danny Allen.”
If he hadn’t been listening for the faint catch of her breath, he wouldn’t have heard it. She had a hell of a pokerface.
“I’m guessing Mr. Allen isn’t around to explain what it was doing there?” She smiled brightly, almost casually, and he felt himself smirking back.
“She’s good.”
Green sighed and then smiled at Veronica, the perfect personification of ‘good cop.’ “Why don’t you give us your explanation?”
She shook her head, but while she kept her tone light, a bit of worry had crept into her eyes.
“I have no idea. I’ve never seen this man before.”
He took a long pull of his coffee. “So someone pinned your card to his chest for fun?”
“People have strange ideas of entertainment,” she replied blandly.
He laughed. Another point for the girl.
“Why not, it’s no stranger than Mets fans.”
Green frowned. “We’d appreciate your cooperation on this matter, Miss Mars.”
“Honestly, Detective,” she said. “I have no idea who this is.”
Her voice got tight.
“I don’t know what it’s doing there.”
Green nodded, all sympathy. “I believe you. But someone leaving your card there, I mean, you can understand why we’d be concerned, right?”
He looked to Lenny, who let an expression of fatherly sympathy take the place of his smirk. “Now, Veronica - is it okay if I call you Veronica? - do you have any idea who might have done this? Anyone who might be holding a grudge?”
She shrugged and the mask was back. “No, but I can get you a copy of my high school yearbook. You’ll want to start in the As.”
“Miss Mars.”
“I’ve only been here a few months. I haven’t had time to pick a favorite restaurant, let alone compile a list of enemies.”
“You should try Mario's. Great Italian," he grinned. He could go all day like this. Someone knocked on the door, and he rolled his eyes; they'd hardly gotten started.
A moment later, Van Buren poked her head in. “You two, you have a phone call.”
“I’ll take that.” He stood and made his way outside. It was funny, from outside she looked so small, fragile even. And if there was one thing this girl was not it was fragile.
The phone call was short but he found himself jotting notes as fast as he could. Yet even as he did he couldn’t help but note the edge of maliciousness in the caller’s tone. Definitely a personal grudge at work there.
He let himself back into the interrogation room. Green looked tired, although he hadn’t been left alone with her for more than ten minutes.
“If someone’s after me, they’re from Neptune,” she asserted.
“Speaking of Neptune, I had an interesting conversation just now. You know a Sheriff Lamb?”
“You talked to Lamb? And it was interesting?”
He grinned again, a slow smile that took over his features. “Seems it's not the first time your name has shown up on a dead body.”
The Colonial Fleet
He stopped pacing at the sight of the diminutive blond reporter. She wasn’t one he knew, but there were more reporters here than there were things to report half the time.
He nodded at her “Miss… Mars is it?”
Her smile was all professional courtesy and that journalistic fakeness. “Yes, I’m here representing the Neptune Navigator.”
“Oh, of course, please, have a seat.” She was an attractive thing, if a bit shorter than his usual taste.
“She’s too young for you, Gauis.”
He could feel her over his shoulder and he rolled his eyes.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, er, what you’re planning to discuss,” he amended, directing the end of his comment at Miss Mars.
“Well this is basically just a simple profile piece going into the election. A general biography, your campaign platform, humanizing anecdotes. The usual.”
“Ah, right.”
“So,” she murmured, crossing her legs demurely, and he wished her skirt was a little less sensible. “Can you tell us what you were doing when the attack began?”
Six smiled. “This should be interesting.”
“Ah, is this sort of question really necessary?”
The girl looked suspicious. “Mr. Baltar this was the defining moment not just of our generation, but of our species. A personal story of your experience will resonate extremely well.’
There was something he was missing, he knew it.
“Wake up, Gaius," Six whispered in his ear, "I won’t do everything for you.”
He shrugged her off. “Right! - well, I was actually at home at the time of the attacks. I don’t know if you’re aware of it, but I was one of the few who managed to get off Caprica after the bombing…”
He was too busy talking to notice the bug she slipped under his table. Too busy to realize what had happened till they arrested him three weeks later for his involvement in the destruction of humanity.
Two blondes made their way down the corridor watching as they led him away.
“Didn’t I tell you how easy it would be?” Lilly beamed at Veronica.
“And now that they have him, they won’t need to look for anyone else.”