fic: Between Seacrest and Revello | V. Unlucky Charms, Epilogue, Part One| Buffy/Veronica Mars
{...About Two Years Later...}
When Vinnie Van Lowe stepped outside the confines of LAX, there was a limo, its rear door open and inviting. With a grin, he slipped on his shades, flung his ratty duffel over his shoulder, and walked to the awaiting chariot. At the door, he threw his duffel inside first, then got in himself and shut the door. Within moments, the vehicle was moving, slowly navigating through the airport traffic.
“How was the Riviera, Mr. Van Lowe?” A voice suddenly asked, and hearing it caused the askee to jump out of his skin. “Two months, wasn’t it? You look tan.”
Vinnie lowered the sunglasses on his nose, trying to play it cool. He found the source of the voice sitting in the long, leather seat across from his. He took a moment to collect himself. His fellow passenger half-hid in shadow, but he could definitely see that--
“No offense, but, little color around the face? Goes a long way with the senoritas, my friend.”
He got nothing, and also felt quite chilly just then.
“Hey, whatever waves your flag. Feelin’ that whole ‘Batman’ vibe...has to be the coat.”
His hand rose like he was toasting his unreadable companion. Still no reaction.
“So, uh, those suits at the top really know how to disappear a guy with class. Make sure you tell Mr. Wolfram and Mr. Hart I said, ‘Danke Schoen’ from the bottom of my shorts.”
“We’ve been under new management since your ‘disappearance’...mine. Name’s Angel,” the man in black revealed, leaning forward out of the dark, so the little bit of light that shone down from above highlighted his vampiric features more than somewhat menacingly. ”It’s gonna be a long ride, Vinnie. Long enough to hear you come clean.”
Vinnie swallowed, instantly forgetting how metrosexual he found the name.
“About what?”
“The murder of Keith Mars.”
________
“...are already speculating this is due to Liam Fitzpatrick, the bar’s owner, being recently acquitted on all charges. Fire crews are still working to put out the blaze. We’ll have more as this story develops,” came the voice from a car’s radio somewhere on the street.
Veronica heard it distantly, more focused on watching “The River Styx” burn. There was definitely a fire, but no one trying to extinguish it. What the copters and the gawkers safely behind police/Tara’s mystical barriers didn’t see, was the battle that raged. Willow’s glamour made sure of that nicely. As the blonde detective saw the truth, she thought about another news report from seven months ago.
{“Four UCLA seniors made a shocking discovery today. ‘Minimalist camping’ enthusiasts, Kate Walsh and Beth Little, along with their boyfriends, Dylan Hargrove and Nick Jacobs, had planned to spend their Spring Break isolated in the Mohave Desert, surviving off of the contents of their backpacks and their surroundings.
“While searching for a campsite, the young couples came across an area that at first, seemed to serve as a tragic warning of what could happen if they weren’t prepared...”}
Soon it cut away from the anchor to a pre-recorded piece. Where the reporter asked each of the students what they saw. Vultures circling, they’d said. And when they got closer, two bodies partially exposed in the sand. One had been picked clean already. The other was fairly fresh.
Nick had recognized him as that guy who wrote that book about the Lilly Kane murder. Later, dental records on the other body revealed it to be the long-MIA, Cormac Fitzpatrick. Theories abounded in the succeeding weeks about their connection.
Because nature didn’t kill Cormac or her father. Bullets from close range did, and it didn’t take Veronica long to discover why and who. But not that first night.
During a random stop amidst channel surfing, she and Buffy tuned in just in time to see the story they’d had no reason whatsoever to expect. She had no memory of the rest of it; she’d have to rely on her girlfriend’s. Just as Buffy would on hers of the day they’d found Joyce.
If they ever asked each other about them. Which they weren’t going to, because those days never happened. There was just before...and then there was after.
{“Oh, so you know? You’re only allowed to die metaphorically.”}
{“Dad, do me a favor...Don't get murdered...”}
He didn’t listen. Maybe if he’d told her he was investigating in secret again, he’d be alive tonight. Maybe if she’d paid attention to his face every time the latest, bad news came from Leo and Sacks, and saw how much it ate at him. Maybe if she’d remembered how good a man he was, and that he wouldn’t be able to sit by and do nothing forever.
But no, she just thought he’d been on a regular case. It wasn’t unusual for him to be gone for days at a time, even a week here and there. Maybe if she wasn’t so preoccupied, she would’ve noticed that he hadn’t called. But there were nerds who needed catching, who’d escalated from annoyances to murderers, and it pissed her off that she couldn’t find, and nail them to the wall. So many maybes.
As her eye caught the glint off the “slayer scythe” that the two Chosen were sharing between them--in Warren Meer’s case, finder’s *wasn’t* keepers--she knew she had to get her head back in this. She chucked a holy water bottle at the vampire who now charged, and while he growled, clutching his face, her compact-model crossbow fired at his heart.
Veronica Mars was no slayer, nor did she pretend to be, but she had damn good aim.
{“...Because I couldn't live without you, and all I've been doing is thinking about what I would do if I didn't have you.”}
Loading up the next bolt, she knew it would all be over soon. Then...then...she’d have to figure out how to live another day without her dad.
________
As far as plans went, this was one of Buffy’s more direct and unsubtle, but it was working. In the days following Liam’s trial, while she and Veronica’s wept at and cursed the world’s cruelness, Angel was busy becoming Wolfram and Hart’s new, Los Angeles CEO. After learning that, and learning why the law firm had so vigorously defended two, human drug dealers practically pro bono, the plan came together pretty quickly.
Angel had his part, they had theirs. The thankfully, only two cemeteries in town were A-phase. Had to get rid of the newborns. Easy. In fact, poking them as they rose out of the ground felt like cheating. B-phase, not so much.
“The River Styx” had turned into one, huge vampire nest. When the demons originally started moving in, Wolfram and Hart approached the Fitzpatricks. Neptune was untapped territory the Irishmen could help them mine in all sorts of ways (that naturally never linked back to the firm in any provable way). Including introducing mystical drugs like Orpheus to the townspeople. Hence why they were burning the bar to the ground.
The fire was like a beacon to all the others who hadn’t been inside when Weevil and the PCHers he’d reunited with, lit their matches. That’s exactly what Buffy wanted. After tonight, she swore Neptune would be vampire-free. A task made all the more easier by her...uh, *their* shiny, axe thing. There was more to it than sharp and pretty, she just didn’t know what the “more” was yet.
Getting herself a triple decapitation with a smooth 180, she scanned the rapidly thinning battlefield for its co-owner. She owed Faith much, and never let the brunette forget. It wasn’t just Dawn Faith had saved. It was the world. And Veronica, from doing something that would’ve haunted the rest of her life. And Buffy herself, from never having to choose to kill her sister in cold blood. Faith shouldered the burden for them all.
At the time, they couldn’t have known what it would mean in the grand scheme of things, but just a few weeks ago, it meant that Dawn got to be alive to find her green, glowy, “Key” center and make a big, Hellmouth-sized hole where Sunnydale used to be. They thought she’d died in the cave-in, but as they stood peering into the crater, a green, glowy, energy ball rose out of. Because it was like a law that energy couldn’t be destroyed.
Once she was in huggable form, Buffy didn’t want to let her go. She remembered joking, “And *I’m* the family weirdo?”
Dawn wasn’t here now though; she was waiting for them in L.A. Under valid, “I’ve earned ‘Scooby’ status” protest. To which Buffy replied, “You know you were probably like, some god’s--who’s lame and extinct now--nightlight, right,” and then she had Faith make her stay. Wasn’t it enough that Veronica let her drive the Saturn?
“I finally know what you get the girl who has everything,” Logan’s voice suddenly crackled over the walk-talkie. “Come check it out...didn’t have time to wrap.”
She answered immediately, Faith’s eyes meeting hers as she did.
“You mean--?”
“We got‘m, Buf,” Xander confirmed next. “Alley a couple blocks from all the hoopla.”
With a single look, Faith assured that she and the boys could finish, and told Buffy to get over there.
“Veronica?” The blonde than asked into her walkie, throwing her sister slayer the weapon.
“Already on the way,” answered the detective.
Buffy felt worry coming from every angle. The primary at the moment revolving around her girlfriend’s physical well being. That’s why she went back for her--Veronica “I took down a hell god with a Taser” Mars or no. Yelling could come later, she didn’t care.
________
The blondes walked into the alleyway together, seeing Xander and Logan standing over a trussed up Liam and Danny Boyd, who were slouched against a dumpster, hands behind backs. Even with an amputated, left forearm, Logan had clearly still managed to beat the shit out of Liam, whose bloodied, swollen face didn’t look so smug now.
Buffy stepped up to Danny, whose face was unmarred, but wearing the same, stupid expression it always did. “Untie him,” she requested of either of his captors.
Following her father’s death, Veronica avoided deep depression and debilitating grief by finding all the notes he’d kept, all the evidence he’d gathered against the Fitzpatricks. He’d been in contact with the D.A., and was close to getting what they needed to put the brothers away for several lifetimes. Exactly the reason he was killed.
Despite the risks, the objections from the only person she had left, she continued where he’d left off. In so doing, she became a target, too. They tried to make it an “accident.” No plates, unremarkable-looking car...that would’ve run Veronica down had Buffy not shoved her out of the way. Giles said any other person would’ve been paralyzed, with the way the car struck her back--it took a week for her spine to heal.
That week, while Veronica brought the D.A. what she had so formal charges could be brought, Buffy was laid up, just picturing the driver’s face in her mind. One guess who.
Logan cut the rope from Danny’s wrists, and as he massaged them, Buffy bent down so they were eye-to-eye.
“Gonna kiss me?” He none-too-brightly asked, smirking.
Oh, she’d hoped for that. It was all the excuse she needed to take his hand, and with an easy flick of her superhuman wrist, snap it backwards into a position God probably didn’t intend. He screamed so horrifyingly loud, she imagined the vampires left at the battle got chills. Figuratively speaking. When his hand flopped forward, everyone except she and Logan grimaced. Danny might’ve passed out.
Then Liam decided to be less-than-bright, too. “You fuckin’ bitch!”
Words could not express how much hatred coursed through her. Hatred to a level she’d not felt since Cassidy and that roof. She’d accepted the darkness within, as had Faith in these past, two years, but staring into Liam’s eyes, their darkness didn’t seem to hold a candle to his.
She had just enough self-control left to get out, “Somebody...stop me...please.”
Maybe it did hold a candle.
A hand grabbed hers, which she’d balled into a white-knuckled fist at her side; she knew who it belonged to.
“It’s okay,” Veronica whispered calmly, and spoke the next part for everyone present. “Dad wanted him in jail, and that’s where his reservations are. For años upon años. Hopefully sharing a wall with Larry, Curly, and Ike.” Meaning those evil nerds.
Liam half-laughed. “Didn’t ya hear? I got off.”
“No, pretty sure you didn’t,” the detective replied with a sprinkle of her usual cockiness.
“When this is over, you’re gonna be--“
Veronica held up her finger in the universal gesture for “one minute of silence, please”--her cell phone was ringing.
She answered it. “Angel?” Several seconds later, she smiled, hitting “speaker” on the phone. “Say hi to Liam Fitzpatrick.”
“Rather say goodbye. Wolfram and Hart won’t be doing business with you or any member of your family,” Angel’s voice came through loud and clear, “ever again. Legal or otherwise. Which is bad news for you, because now that you’re no longer our client, we can make sure you aren’t anybody else’s either.
“And if even half of what Mr. Van Lowe’s told me is true, could be a problem. We didn’t wanna put him on the stand during the trial, because we knew no jury in Neptune would believe a word. Not after how his term ended. We also knew the prosecution would eat him alive.
“Well, they’re gonna get the chance. Apparently there’re pictures, tapes...looks like he *really* didn’t trust you. May have gotten away with one crime, but good luck getting away with ‘em all.”
“Thanks, Angel.” Veronica was pleased, finally seeing fear in Liam. “I owe you.”
“He gives ‘Liams’ a bad name.”
Hanging up with him, she listened to Faith come over Buffy’s walkie.
“All clear, B.”
“Then tell the sheriff he’s got some arresting to do,” requested the petite slayer.
“Roger that. Yo, Jerry!” Faith was calling on the other end before she took her finger off the button.
The girls stood up, and Liam just couldn’t shut up. “Your old man didn’t even see it coming.”
Veronica stilled. “Probably not,” she agreed after a second. “But hey, neither did you.”
Her boot then crunched his face. “Who says they’re only made for walking?”
“I think we’re both butch,” Buffy said, her opportunity to grab hand having knocked. “Or, butch-*ish*.”
________
Everybody met up in Sack’n’Pack’s parking lot. Weevil, Faith and the PCHers; Logan, Xander, Buffy, and Veronica; Willow and Tara; and Mac and Giles, who’d been inside their non-descript van keeping a satellite’s eye on the proceedings via laptop. Mac had become their technology person ever since Willow realized she could brain-drain a god. But one of the last things the redhead did before fully outing her inner-witch, was conclude “The Project.”
She and Mac were both glad for the timing, or else Buffy and Veronica wouldn’t have been able to keep college up, let alone feed themselves and Dawn. Especially not Faith. And this was while Mr. Mars won the bread still. He did his best, but they’d needed help. So, the geeks blackmailed the Council.
To think, it had started with such an academic purpose freshman year. Hack into their files, learn what they could, give Buffy useful, slaying knowledge. But when Quentin Travers tried to strong arm Buffy back in the days of Glory, and she strong-armed them into paying Giles again, Mac got an idea. Willow being Willow, she was of course resistant.
Mac reminded her of the night they met. She’d said they would learn much from one another--this was her time to shine. No one knew how to make money through technological blackmail better than she. It wasn’t complicated blackmail, either.
“Pay Buffy and Faith, or we sell your secrets to the highest bidder.” Direct and pointed. Like all old, rich white men desperate to cling to what little power, they played ball. Left the slayers comfortably well off, and the hackers proud. They were the first to hug.
Weevil got off his bike, and went to get his over with. Buffy and Veronica welcomed it. “Careful--big, bad world out there.”
“You’re staying?” Veronica asked, surprised.
“Where else we gonna go, V?” Then with an ironic grin he said, “Somebody’s gotta keep the streets clean.”
“Hey, Weevil?” Buffy spoke. “Good fight.”
“You too, Hazel Eyes.”
Faith was next, but they didn’t say anything. Didn’t need to. From him, Faith let her hand entwine high up with each of the blondes’, expressing congrats and how much ass they kicked, once more, without words. She made her way to Giles, Buffy and Veronica to the witches and to Mac.
But seeing Logan by himself, Veronica took a quick detour. “Thanks. For helping.”
“I liked your dad,” he said simply.
“You should come with us,” she smiled sadly.
“Touched, but uh, afraid I have a prior engagement,” he informed, causing her eyebrows to rise. “Surfing. In Hawaii.”
This just made Veronica laugh. And Logan soon followed her example. After everything they’d just been through, everything he lost, everything that changed...
“Why does that not surprise me?” She shook her head.
“Dick’s already there.”
“So he’s been left to his own devices in a tropical paradise? Never a smart move. Don't they discourage bikini lines?” She smirked. “I can see you’re needed.”
“Plan is to make me ‘The Armstrong of the Swells.’” Raising his half an arm, Logan gave his ex a moment to put it together.
When Lance, Lance *Armstrong* that is, lost a body part, he won title after French title, ipso facto--
“Again, why am I not surprised?” She rhetorically asked.
Dick wasn’t the only one who’d left town. Wallace had been back living in Chicago for almost a year now. This time with his mother and brother. Alicia saw how bad Neptune was getting, and wanted her family out. Wallace didn’t have to go, but he chose to, to try and repair his relationship with his mother; it was never quite the same after she’d lied about his father. He said yes under the condition that she finally face Nathan Woods. Things were okay.
“He woulda been proud, y’know,” Logan believed. “Your dad.”
“That’s what I’m goin’ for.”
And here Veronica was stumped. They were saying goodbye, and she didn’t know how. They’d been friends, enemies, and dated pretty intensely for oh so brief a time, and it was just...weird.
“Promise you’ll keep the ‘Bad Boy’ on the QT. And try to be happy.”
He smiled enigmatically, then his fingers went Vulcan. “Live long and prosper, Mars.”
“Ditto, Echolls. Ditto.”
________
“Macs-a-million! All my base? Are belong to you. Your kung fu is t-e-h best.” Veronica gave her a high five as she walked to the van, where “The Scooby Gang” had gathered.
Logan was gone, and the PCHers rode out, leaving a trail of exhaust in their wake.
“She just sat there! What about my fu?” Willow pouted.
“I like it,” Tara assured her with a kiss.
They were so damn adorable. All the time. Well, Veronica and Buffy had only themselves to blame for facilitating the relationship’s growth when they demanded a double date to make a first one occur. The wiccas had come a long way.
Mac missed her compadre in crime, but you didn’t stand in the way of adorable.
“Hey, I was the eyes of the whole op,” she argued. “It would’ve fallen into freaking shambles without me.”
“Me too! Without me too!” The redhead shot back.
“Everybody was pretty vital,” Buffy interjected before there was a showdown.
“I have to agree,” Giles supported his slayer. “None of us would be alive to celebrate what was accomplished tonight, if we all hadn’t played our roles. You’re a formidable team...when, ah, you aren’t bickering like six-year-olds.”
His role was to get the cops onboard to do crowd control.
“This mean it isn’t the best time to complain about Faith fencing my pudding cup?” Veronica wondered.
Chuckles sounded throughout the group. Xander was the only one who didn’t join in, because he was reminded of the member who wasn’t alive to celebrate. No, Anya hadn’t died here, but she’d still died. Like Veronica earlier, all he could think about were the maybes. Maybe if he’d been honest with her, hadn’t left her at the altar...
Day of the wedding, his parents kept reminding him how very bad marriage could go. He didn’t need that demon to make him doubt. So he did what he thought would’ve been best for the both of them in the long run. They weren’t ready to take that step, whether Anya had realized it or not.
She hadn’t wanted to; she was too hurt. She got herself re-demonized, and back into vengeance. But when she slaughtered an entire frat house, she couldn’t stand the sight of her own carnage. She asked D’Hoffryn, her boss, to undo it. As a price, he killed another vengeance demon, one of her oldest friends, and stripped her powers for the second time.
But he didn’t leave it at that. He’d sent demons to assassinate her. Xander found his ex-fiancé dead on her apartment floor.
“C’mere,” Buffy said to him, knowing what was going on inside his head.
She embraced him tightly. Anya’s death was something of a last straw. Sick and tired of the Hellmouth, Buffy took a part time counseling job at the rebuilt Sunnydale High to watch over it. First chance she got, she investigated. In the basement, she dug up this seal. Looked like some kind of hatch. Research began.
It was basically a door down into the Hellmouth, opened and closed by blood. Left her with a decision to make. Dawn’s journey of personal discovery made that decision both easier and more difficult. But in the end, they destroyed the mystical hoozit for good. And then came here--they were batting two for two.
“Let’s motor, I’m starved, and these aren’t dousin’ the fire,” announced Faith, crumpling the empty bag of cheese puffs in her hand, and breaking the friends’ mutual exchange of comfort.
“’Cause that’s new.” Buffy rolled her eyes.
The Bostonian added, “I’m buyin’.”
“*There’s* new.” Xander took a deep breath and got into the spirit of things. “And I’m sold. Wagons ho!”
Buffy went back to her girlfriend’s side and they watched their friends pile in to the van.
“We’ll be right behind,” she told them.
When Vinnie Van Lowe stepped outside the confines of LAX, there was a limo, its rear door open and inviting. With a grin, he slipped on his shades, flung his ratty duffel over his shoulder, and walked to the awaiting chariot. At the door, he threw his duffel inside first, then got in himself and shut the door. Within moments, the vehicle was moving, slowly navigating through the airport traffic.
“How was the Riviera, Mr. Van Lowe?” A voice suddenly asked, and hearing it caused the askee to jump out of his skin. “Two months, wasn’t it? You look tan.”
Vinnie lowered the sunglasses on his nose, trying to play it cool. He found the source of the voice sitting in the long, leather seat across from his. He took a moment to collect himself. His fellow passenger half-hid in shadow, but he could definitely see that--
“No offense, but, little color around the face? Goes a long way with the senoritas, my friend.”
He got nothing, and also felt quite chilly just then.
“Hey, whatever waves your flag. Feelin’ that whole ‘Batman’ vibe...has to be the coat.”
His hand rose like he was toasting his unreadable companion. Still no reaction.
“So, uh, those suits at the top really know how to disappear a guy with class. Make sure you tell Mr. Wolfram and Mr. Hart I said, ‘Danke Schoen’ from the bottom of my shorts.”
“We’ve been under new management since your ‘disappearance’...mine. Name’s Angel,” the man in black revealed, leaning forward out of the dark, so the little bit of light that shone down from above highlighted his vampiric features more than somewhat menacingly. ”It’s gonna be a long ride, Vinnie. Long enough to hear you come clean.”
Vinnie swallowed, instantly forgetting how metrosexual he found the name.
“About what?”
“The murder of Keith Mars.”
________
“...are already speculating this is due to Liam Fitzpatrick, the bar’s owner, being recently acquitted on all charges. Fire crews are still working to put out the blaze. We’ll have more as this story develops,” came the voice from a car’s radio somewhere on the street.
Veronica heard it distantly, more focused on watching “The River Styx” burn. There was definitely a fire, but no one trying to extinguish it. What the copters and the gawkers safely behind police/Tara’s mystical barriers didn’t see, was the battle that raged. Willow’s glamour made sure of that nicely. As the blonde detective saw the truth, she thought about another news report from seven months ago.
{“Four UCLA seniors made a shocking discovery today. ‘Minimalist camping’ enthusiasts, Kate Walsh and Beth Little, along with their boyfriends, Dylan Hargrove and Nick Jacobs, had planned to spend their Spring Break isolated in the Mohave Desert, surviving off of the contents of their backpacks and their surroundings.
“While searching for a campsite, the young couples came across an area that at first, seemed to serve as a tragic warning of what could happen if they weren’t prepared...”}
Soon it cut away from the anchor to a pre-recorded piece. Where the reporter asked each of the students what they saw. Vultures circling, they’d said. And when they got closer, two bodies partially exposed in the sand. One had been picked clean already. The other was fairly fresh.
Nick had recognized him as that guy who wrote that book about the Lilly Kane murder. Later, dental records on the other body revealed it to be the long-MIA, Cormac Fitzpatrick. Theories abounded in the succeeding weeks about their connection.
Because nature didn’t kill Cormac or her father. Bullets from close range did, and it didn’t take Veronica long to discover why and who. But not that first night.
During a random stop amidst channel surfing, she and Buffy tuned in just in time to see the story they’d had no reason whatsoever to expect. She had no memory of the rest of it; she’d have to rely on her girlfriend’s. Just as Buffy would on hers of the day they’d found Joyce.
If they ever asked each other about them. Which they weren’t going to, because those days never happened. There was just before...and then there was after.
{“Oh, so you know? You’re only allowed to die metaphorically.”}
{“Dad, do me a favor...Don't get murdered...”}
He didn’t listen. Maybe if he’d told her he was investigating in secret again, he’d be alive tonight. Maybe if she’d paid attention to his face every time the latest, bad news came from Leo and Sacks, and saw how much it ate at him. Maybe if she’d remembered how good a man he was, and that he wouldn’t be able to sit by and do nothing forever.
But no, she just thought he’d been on a regular case. It wasn’t unusual for him to be gone for days at a time, even a week here and there. Maybe if she wasn’t so preoccupied, she would’ve noticed that he hadn’t called. But there were nerds who needed catching, who’d escalated from annoyances to murderers, and it pissed her off that she couldn’t find, and nail them to the wall. So many maybes.
As her eye caught the glint off the “slayer scythe” that the two Chosen were sharing between them--in Warren Meer’s case, finder’s *wasn’t* keepers--she knew she had to get her head back in this. She chucked a holy water bottle at the vampire who now charged, and while he growled, clutching his face, her compact-model crossbow fired at his heart.
Veronica Mars was no slayer, nor did she pretend to be, but she had damn good aim.
{“...Because I couldn't live without you, and all I've been doing is thinking about what I would do if I didn't have you.”}
Loading up the next bolt, she knew it would all be over soon. Then...then...she’d have to figure out how to live another day without her dad.
________
As far as plans went, this was one of Buffy’s more direct and unsubtle, but it was working. In the days following Liam’s trial, while she and Veronica’s wept at and cursed the world’s cruelness, Angel was busy becoming Wolfram and Hart’s new, Los Angeles CEO. After learning that, and learning why the law firm had so vigorously defended two, human drug dealers practically pro bono, the plan came together pretty quickly.
Angel had his part, they had theirs. The thankfully, only two cemeteries in town were A-phase. Had to get rid of the newborns. Easy. In fact, poking them as they rose out of the ground felt like cheating. B-phase, not so much.
“The River Styx” had turned into one, huge vampire nest. When the demons originally started moving in, Wolfram and Hart approached the Fitzpatricks. Neptune was untapped territory the Irishmen could help them mine in all sorts of ways (that naturally never linked back to the firm in any provable way). Including introducing mystical drugs like Orpheus to the townspeople. Hence why they were burning the bar to the ground.
The fire was like a beacon to all the others who hadn’t been inside when Weevil and the PCHers he’d reunited with, lit their matches. That’s exactly what Buffy wanted. After tonight, she swore Neptune would be vampire-free. A task made all the more easier by her...uh, *their* shiny, axe thing. There was more to it than sharp and pretty, she just didn’t know what the “more” was yet.
Getting herself a triple decapitation with a smooth 180, she scanned the rapidly thinning battlefield for its co-owner. She owed Faith much, and never let the brunette forget. It wasn’t just Dawn Faith had saved. It was the world. And Veronica, from doing something that would’ve haunted the rest of her life. And Buffy herself, from never having to choose to kill her sister in cold blood. Faith shouldered the burden for them all.
At the time, they couldn’t have known what it would mean in the grand scheme of things, but just a few weeks ago, it meant that Dawn got to be alive to find her green, glowy, “Key” center and make a big, Hellmouth-sized hole where Sunnydale used to be. They thought she’d died in the cave-in, but as they stood peering into the crater, a green, glowy, energy ball rose out of. Because it was like a law that energy couldn’t be destroyed.
Once she was in huggable form, Buffy didn’t want to let her go. She remembered joking, “And *I’m* the family weirdo?”
Dawn wasn’t here now though; she was waiting for them in L.A. Under valid, “I’ve earned ‘Scooby’ status” protest. To which Buffy replied, “You know you were probably like, some god’s--who’s lame and extinct now--nightlight, right,” and then she had Faith make her stay. Wasn’t it enough that Veronica let her drive the Saturn?
“I finally know what you get the girl who has everything,” Logan’s voice suddenly crackled over the walk-talkie. “Come check it out...didn’t have time to wrap.”
She answered immediately, Faith’s eyes meeting hers as she did.
“You mean--?”
“We got‘m, Buf,” Xander confirmed next. “Alley a couple blocks from all the hoopla.”
With a single look, Faith assured that she and the boys could finish, and told Buffy to get over there.
“Veronica?” The blonde than asked into her walkie, throwing her sister slayer the weapon.
“Already on the way,” answered the detective.
Buffy felt worry coming from every angle. The primary at the moment revolving around her girlfriend’s physical well being. That’s why she went back for her--Veronica “I took down a hell god with a Taser” Mars or no. Yelling could come later, she didn’t care.
________
The blondes walked into the alleyway together, seeing Xander and Logan standing over a trussed up Liam and Danny Boyd, who were slouched against a dumpster, hands behind backs. Even with an amputated, left forearm, Logan had clearly still managed to beat the shit out of Liam, whose bloodied, swollen face didn’t look so smug now.
Buffy stepped up to Danny, whose face was unmarred, but wearing the same, stupid expression it always did. “Untie him,” she requested of either of his captors.
Following her father’s death, Veronica avoided deep depression and debilitating grief by finding all the notes he’d kept, all the evidence he’d gathered against the Fitzpatricks. He’d been in contact with the D.A., and was close to getting what they needed to put the brothers away for several lifetimes. Exactly the reason he was killed.
Despite the risks, the objections from the only person she had left, she continued where he’d left off. In so doing, she became a target, too. They tried to make it an “accident.” No plates, unremarkable-looking car...that would’ve run Veronica down had Buffy not shoved her out of the way. Giles said any other person would’ve been paralyzed, with the way the car struck her back--it took a week for her spine to heal.
That week, while Veronica brought the D.A. what she had so formal charges could be brought, Buffy was laid up, just picturing the driver’s face in her mind. One guess who.
Logan cut the rope from Danny’s wrists, and as he massaged them, Buffy bent down so they were eye-to-eye.
“Gonna kiss me?” He none-too-brightly asked, smirking.
Oh, she’d hoped for that. It was all the excuse she needed to take his hand, and with an easy flick of her superhuman wrist, snap it backwards into a position God probably didn’t intend. He screamed so horrifyingly loud, she imagined the vampires left at the battle got chills. Figuratively speaking. When his hand flopped forward, everyone except she and Logan grimaced. Danny might’ve passed out.
Then Liam decided to be less-than-bright, too. “You fuckin’ bitch!”
Words could not express how much hatred coursed through her. Hatred to a level she’d not felt since Cassidy and that roof. She’d accepted the darkness within, as had Faith in these past, two years, but staring into Liam’s eyes, their darkness didn’t seem to hold a candle to his.
She had just enough self-control left to get out, “Somebody...stop me...please.”
Maybe it did hold a candle.
A hand grabbed hers, which she’d balled into a white-knuckled fist at her side; she knew who it belonged to.
“It’s okay,” Veronica whispered calmly, and spoke the next part for everyone present. “Dad wanted him in jail, and that’s where his reservations are. For años upon años. Hopefully sharing a wall with Larry, Curly, and Ike.” Meaning those evil nerds.
Liam half-laughed. “Didn’t ya hear? I got off.”
“No, pretty sure you didn’t,” the detective replied with a sprinkle of her usual cockiness.
“When this is over, you’re gonna be--“
Veronica held up her finger in the universal gesture for “one minute of silence, please”--her cell phone was ringing.
She answered it. “Angel?” Several seconds later, she smiled, hitting “speaker” on the phone. “Say hi to Liam Fitzpatrick.”
“Rather say goodbye. Wolfram and Hart won’t be doing business with you or any member of your family,” Angel’s voice came through loud and clear, “ever again. Legal or otherwise. Which is bad news for you, because now that you’re no longer our client, we can make sure you aren’t anybody else’s either.
“And if even half of what Mr. Van Lowe’s told me is true, could be a problem. We didn’t wanna put him on the stand during the trial, because we knew no jury in Neptune would believe a word. Not after how his term ended. We also knew the prosecution would eat him alive.
“Well, they’re gonna get the chance. Apparently there’re pictures, tapes...looks like he *really* didn’t trust you. May have gotten away with one crime, but good luck getting away with ‘em all.”
“Thanks, Angel.” Veronica was pleased, finally seeing fear in Liam. “I owe you.”
“He gives ‘Liams’ a bad name.”
Hanging up with him, she listened to Faith come over Buffy’s walkie.
“All clear, B.”
“Then tell the sheriff he’s got some arresting to do,” requested the petite slayer.
“Roger that. Yo, Jerry!” Faith was calling on the other end before she took her finger off the button.
The girls stood up, and Liam just couldn’t shut up. “Your old man didn’t even see it coming.”
Veronica stilled. “Probably not,” she agreed after a second. “But hey, neither did you.”
Her boot then crunched his face. “Who says they’re only made for walking?”
“I think we’re both butch,” Buffy said, her opportunity to grab hand having knocked. “Or, butch-*ish*.”
________
Everybody met up in Sack’n’Pack’s parking lot. Weevil, Faith and the PCHers; Logan, Xander, Buffy, and Veronica; Willow and Tara; and Mac and Giles, who’d been inside their non-descript van keeping a satellite’s eye on the proceedings via laptop. Mac had become their technology person ever since Willow realized she could brain-drain a god. But one of the last things the redhead did before fully outing her inner-witch, was conclude “The Project.”
She and Mac were both glad for the timing, or else Buffy and Veronica wouldn’t have been able to keep college up, let alone feed themselves and Dawn. Especially not Faith. And this was while Mr. Mars won the bread still. He did his best, but they’d needed help. So, the geeks blackmailed the Council.
To think, it had started with such an academic purpose freshman year. Hack into their files, learn what they could, give Buffy useful, slaying knowledge. But when Quentin Travers tried to strong arm Buffy back in the days of Glory, and she strong-armed them into paying Giles again, Mac got an idea. Willow being Willow, she was of course resistant.
Mac reminded her of the night they met. She’d said they would learn much from one another--this was her time to shine. No one knew how to make money through technological blackmail better than she. It wasn’t complicated blackmail, either.
“Pay Buffy and Faith, or we sell your secrets to the highest bidder.” Direct and pointed. Like all old, rich white men desperate to cling to what little power, they played ball. Left the slayers comfortably well off, and the hackers proud. They were the first to hug.
Weevil got off his bike, and went to get his over with. Buffy and Veronica welcomed it. “Careful--big, bad world out there.”
“You’re staying?” Veronica asked, surprised.
“Where else we gonna go, V?” Then with an ironic grin he said, “Somebody’s gotta keep the streets clean.”
“Hey, Weevil?” Buffy spoke. “Good fight.”
“You too, Hazel Eyes.”
Faith was next, but they didn’t say anything. Didn’t need to. From him, Faith let her hand entwine high up with each of the blondes’, expressing congrats and how much ass they kicked, once more, without words. She made her way to Giles, Buffy and Veronica to the witches and to Mac.
But seeing Logan by himself, Veronica took a quick detour. “Thanks. For helping.”
“I liked your dad,” he said simply.
“You should come with us,” she smiled sadly.
“Touched, but uh, afraid I have a prior engagement,” he informed, causing her eyebrows to rise. “Surfing. In Hawaii.”
This just made Veronica laugh. And Logan soon followed her example. After everything they’d just been through, everything he lost, everything that changed...
“Why does that not surprise me?” She shook her head.
“Dick’s already there.”
“So he’s been left to his own devices in a tropical paradise? Never a smart move. Don't they discourage bikini lines?” She smirked. “I can see you’re needed.”
“Plan is to make me ‘The Armstrong of the Swells.’” Raising his half an arm, Logan gave his ex a moment to put it together.
When Lance, Lance *Armstrong* that is, lost a body part, he won title after French title, ipso facto--
“Again, why am I not surprised?” She rhetorically asked.
Dick wasn’t the only one who’d left town. Wallace had been back living in Chicago for almost a year now. This time with his mother and brother. Alicia saw how bad Neptune was getting, and wanted her family out. Wallace didn’t have to go, but he chose to, to try and repair his relationship with his mother; it was never quite the same after she’d lied about his father. He said yes under the condition that she finally face Nathan Woods. Things were okay.
“He woulda been proud, y’know,” Logan believed. “Your dad.”
“That’s what I’m goin’ for.”
And here Veronica was stumped. They were saying goodbye, and she didn’t know how. They’d been friends, enemies, and dated pretty intensely for oh so brief a time, and it was just...weird.
“Promise you’ll keep the ‘Bad Boy’ on the QT. And try to be happy.”
He smiled enigmatically, then his fingers went Vulcan. “Live long and prosper, Mars.”
“Ditto, Echolls. Ditto.”
________
“Macs-a-million! All my base? Are belong to you. Your kung fu is t-e-h best.” Veronica gave her a high five as she walked to the van, where “The Scooby Gang” had gathered.
Logan was gone, and the PCHers rode out, leaving a trail of exhaust in their wake.
“She just sat there! What about my fu?” Willow pouted.
“I like it,” Tara assured her with a kiss.
They were so damn adorable. All the time. Well, Veronica and Buffy had only themselves to blame for facilitating the relationship’s growth when they demanded a double date to make a first one occur. The wiccas had come a long way.
Mac missed her compadre in crime, but you didn’t stand in the way of adorable.
“Hey, I was the eyes of the whole op,” she argued. “It would’ve fallen into freaking shambles without me.”
“Me too! Without me too!” The redhead shot back.
“Everybody was pretty vital,” Buffy interjected before there was a showdown.
“I have to agree,” Giles supported his slayer. “None of us would be alive to celebrate what was accomplished tonight, if we all hadn’t played our roles. You’re a formidable team...when, ah, you aren’t bickering like six-year-olds.”
His role was to get the cops onboard to do crowd control.
“This mean it isn’t the best time to complain about Faith fencing my pudding cup?” Veronica wondered.
Chuckles sounded throughout the group. Xander was the only one who didn’t join in, because he was reminded of the member who wasn’t alive to celebrate. No, Anya hadn’t died here, but she’d still died. Like Veronica earlier, all he could think about were the maybes. Maybe if he’d been honest with her, hadn’t left her at the altar...
Day of the wedding, his parents kept reminding him how very bad marriage could go. He didn’t need that demon to make him doubt. So he did what he thought would’ve been best for the both of them in the long run. They weren’t ready to take that step, whether Anya had realized it or not.
She hadn’t wanted to; she was too hurt. She got herself re-demonized, and back into vengeance. But when she slaughtered an entire frat house, she couldn’t stand the sight of her own carnage. She asked D’Hoffryn, her boss, to undo it. As a price, he killed another vengeance demon, one of her oldest friends, and stripped her powers for the second time.
But he didn’t leave it at that. He’d sent demons to assassinate her. Xander found his ex-fiancé dead on her apartment floor.
“C’mere,” Buffy said to him, knowing what was going on inside his head.
She embraced him tightly. Anya’s death was something of a last straw. Sick and tired of the Hellmouth, Buffy took a part time counseling job at the rebuilt Sunnydale High to watch over it. First chance she got, she investigated. In the basement, she dug up this seal. Looked like some kind of hatch. Research began.
It was basically a door down into the Hellmouth, opened and closed by blood. Left her with a decision to make. Dawn’s journey of personal discovery made that decision both easier and more difficult. But in the end, they destroyed the mystical hoozit for good. And then came here--they were batting two for two.
“Let’s motor, I’m starved, and these aren’t dousin’ the fire,” announced Faith, crumpling the empty bag of cheese puffs in her hand, and breaking the friends’ mutual exchange of comfort.
“’Cause that’s new.” Buffy rolled her eyes.
The Bostonian added, “I’m buyin’.”
“*There’s* new.” Xander took a deep breath and got into the spirit of things. “And I’m sold. Wagons ho!”
Buffy went back to her girlfriend’s side and they watched their friends pile in to the van.
“We’ll be right behind,” she told them.