Summer In Neptune (3.5/?) Veronica/Buffy
Title: Summer In Neptune (3.5/?)
Author: Pat Kelly
Pairing: Veronica/Buffy
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1335
Summary: A crossover with BtVS. Buffy runs away from Sunnydale and goes to the first place she called home.
Timeline: Between S2 and S3 for BtVS. Between S1 and S2 of VM, so there be possible spoilers. Fudged with the years, so Buffy is 17 in 2005, not 1998, like in the show.
Notes: These were going to begin Chapter 4, but when I got done I kind of wanted them to stand on their own. So, yeah, that's it. Enjoy.
-----------------------------------------------------
While news reporters of TV and paper shouted behind the gate, Veronica waited somewhat impatiently at Logan's front door. What was she doing here? The right thing, she hoped. And who should answer the door? Dick Casablancas, of course.
"Yo, Logan, your hooker's here!" He jibed with a smirk.
Veronica just smiled tightly, because some cameraman probably climbed the gate and was hiding in the bushes. "Might wanna think about getting a new shtick, Dick."
His eyes went immediately to his crotch. "What? Who said...?"
And the universe got dumber. But she went with it. "Do we ever know who starts those small balls of rumor rolling? But it's utter hearsay, really--my advice? Pay them no mind...even if they get a little blue."
Cassidy emerged from inside, pushing past his older brother. "Let's go, Dick."
"Hi, Cassidy." Veronica greeted kindly.
It was hard to believe the two were related.
"Hey, Veronica." He shyly returned.
Dick ignored his sibling and spoke again to Veronica. "Hey, is that 'Buffy' chick seriously around somewhere? 'Cause, *damn*. I remember how we had this total, 'sexual magnetism' thing going on between us. It was powerful; like the Force, y'know? But not the one those Jedi guys use for doing gay flips and crossing their rainbow swords or whatever--no, it was the 'Horny Force of Love,' baby."
"Huh." Veronica crossed her arms over her chest, and cocked her head to the side in wonderment. "She must've played it real close to the vest, then."
"I know, right? But her bringing down that shoe outta the air that time? Before it like, lodged into my brain? Complete booty code for, 'Tap. This. *Ass*.'" He continued, leaving Veronica and Cassidy thinking that perhaps a shoe in his skull would be an improvement. "I could tell she was high maintenance though, that's why I passed her up. Decided to just step aside and let you take her; Duncan was the beard, got the message. Bet you two're already back in that familiar rhythm, aren't ya?"
The petite, blonde teen was dumbstruck. Cassidy once again urged his brother to get a move on, as Dick was the one who insisted on seeing the volleyball tournament on the beach. The women's volleyball tournament on the beach. Dick, however, wasn't quite finished.
"Relax, Beav. Not only do I applaud their lifestyle choice, I wholeheartedly encourage it." He misinterpreted Veronica's silence as paralyzing fear because she'd been outted. "And personally? I always thought summers on Mars would be *hot*.*
It took Veronica a good minute after the brothers Casablancas were on their merry, to snap out of it and walk into the Echolls' household.
***
"I looked everywhere outside, and you know what I didn't see?" A recovered Veronica rhetorically asked Logan when she found him vedging in front of the TV, whose multi-Picture-In-Picture displayed the 24-hour surveillance of his abode. "A bear in a beanie riding a unicycle. Not *one*." She flopped down next to him on the couch, sighing. "Circuses today...what happened to standards? Barnum and Bailey have to be turning over in their graves."
"I'm sorry...I missed the part where I invited you into my house." He said rather standoffishly.
"Yeah, but then the door was there, all wide open. Isn't my fault you forgot to tell your guest monkeys to close it when leaving." She retorted. "Also? You didn't *not* invite me in...an apathetic, non-gesture, which throughout the world, has continually come to mean, 'Please enter my fridge and raid it.' Yeah, some small nuances get lost in the translation, but regardless, I believe the point's been made."
"Man, it must be exhausting loving yourself so constantly." He snarkily responded, grabbing the seven-iron that was laid across his coffee table prior to leaving the couch with it.
"Only if I do it right." She quipped, turning around to see him taking practice swings.
"How many would you guess I could ace from up here? Rough estimate." Logan wondered, each swing getting stronger than the one before it. "Been working on my fade shot, and I really wanna concuss the douchebag from 'E! News.'"
Veronica got up now, and clicked off the television. "That's probably not the best goal to strive for right now."
"But think of the ratings spike that's just waiting in the wings." He tried to tell her. "They'll be able to milk the footage for weeks, and this homicidal, racist, Tinsel Town wild child, gets to have a small moment of immense, personal satisfaction." Veronica frowned. "So...where's your bitch? Get loose?"
She bit the inside of her cheek. "Working."
"Which corner?"
"At the Hut." She enlightened him. "And just to clue you in, we're equal opportunity bitches; we take turns."
"Just assumed, you know, now that she's decided to grace our little cesspool with her presence again, you'd finally do it." Veronica's jaw dropped--not him, too. Had there been undertones she was unaware of? "Go to Siam, have yourselves sewn together, maybe join a freakshow...hurry, though. Her mind could change on a dime."
Oh.
"How's that saying go? 'Assuming makes an ass outta you'?" Her dry wit soon gave way to a more serious tone. "Buffy didn't leave because she suddenly hated us, Logan, or why ever you think she did. She was expelled--"
"That's crap. I lost count of the number of expulsions Weevil's racked up, and yet, whaddaya know? He still manages to find his way back into those hallowed halls every year, sparkling with 'Pirate Pride.'"
"*And* her mom wanted to move," Veronica pressed on, getting quieter, "and you don't know the whole story."
"So what if I don't?" Logan said angrily, nearly planting the club into the wall. "In fact, I could give a rat's ass. All 'whole stories' are good for, is helping crappy situations that kind of inherently suck anyway--as the adjective, 'crappy,' implies--to plummet to fun, *new* levels of suck. One such story features my dad in a starring role. Can hear all about him...during the twelve hours a day they're bored with me." He smiled grimly. "Father and son, competing for airtime. Who knew I'd be following in the old man's tracks? I really hope the next step is taking Phoebe Cates from behind in the bathroom at the Oscars."
Veronica was prepared to reverse at a moment's notice. "My dad and I are the ones who put together that whole story, not Buffy. We're who you should be mad at."
"At least you stayed." Were there tears in his eyes?
Halfway through a swing, he stopped. As the club began to lower, she began to move closer. "You're not really mad at her, are you?" She reached her hand out to touch his arm as it clicked for her. "You're mad at Lilly." He didn't want to be, she was dead and it wasn't right, but he was. "Because she didn't stay."
The club dropped to the floor, and for the second time, Logan Echolls was breaking down in her arms. "If she'd never had sex with that son of a bitch..." That was as far as he got, but the rest was going to be something like, "She would've kept us all together, and my life wouldn't be this shitty mess."
When the crying stopped, he asked, "Why are you here, Veronica?"
Hmm. Good question. "Because I know," More like hope, "that if we can find out the truth about what happened on the bridge, maybe track down that witness who called 911, you'll be--"
"I don't need a detective," He interrupted her, and not just because his lawyers were going to crush the bikers even without the whole story, "I need you."
His words hung in the air for what seemed like an eternity, until Veronica, almost inaudibly said, "Okay."
Now was this because she owed him, because she couldn't say no to a broken, weeping boy who needed someone to care, or because she sincerely wanted this? Veronica chose not to dwell.
Author: Pat Kelly
Pairing: Veronica/Buffy
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1335
Summary: A crossover with BtVS. Buffy runs away from Sunnydale and goes to the first place she called home.
Timeline: Between S2 and S3 for BtVS. Between S1 and S2 of VM, so there be possible spoilers. Fudged with the years, so Buffy is 17 in 2005, not 1998, like in the show.
Notes: These were going to begin Chapter 4, but when I got done I kind of wanted them to stand on their own. So, yeah, that's it. Enjoy.
-----------------------------------------------------
While news reporters of TV and paper shouted behind the gate, Veronica waited somewhat impatiently at Logan's front door. What was she doing here? The right thing, she hoped. And who should answer the door? Dick Casablancas, of course.
"Yo, Logan, your hooker's here!" He jibed with a smirk.
Veronica just smiled tightly, because some cameraman probably climbed the gate and was hiding in the bushes. "Might wanna think about getting a new shtick, Dick."
His eyes went immediately to his crotch. "What? Who said...?"
And the universe got dumber. But she went with it. "Do we ever know who starts those small balls of rumor rolling? But it's utter hearsay, really--my advice? Pay them no mind...even if they get a little blue."
Cassidy emerged from inside, pushing past his older brother. "Let's go, Dick."
"Hi, Cassidy." Veronica greeted kindly.
It was hard to believe the two were related.
"Hey, Veronica." He shyly returned.
Dick ignored his sibling and spoke again to Veronica. "Hey, is that 'Buffy' chick seriously around somewhere? 'Cause, *damn*. I remember how we had this total, 'sexual magnetism' thing going on between us. It was powerful; like the Force, y'know? But not the one those Jedi guys use for doing gay flips and crossing their rainbow swords or whatever--no, it was the 'Horny Force of Love,' baby."
"Huh." Veronica crossed her arms over her chest, and cocked her head to the side in wonderment. "She must've played it real close to the vest, then."
"I know, right? But her bringing down that shoe outta the air that time? Before it like, lodged into my brain? Complete booty code for, 'Tap. This. *Ass*.'" He continued, leaving Veronica and Cassidy thinking that perhaps a shoe in his skull would be an improvement. "I could tell she was high maintenance though, that's why I passed her up. Decided to just step aside and let you take her; Duncan was the beard, got the message. Bet you two're already back in that familiar rhythm, aren't ya?"
The petite, blonde teen was dumbstruck. Cassidy once again urged his brother to get a move on, as Dick was the one who insisted on seeing the volleyball tournament on the beach. The women's volleyball tournament on the beach. Dick, however, wasn't quite finished.
"Relax, Beav. Not only do I applaud their lifestyle choice, I wholeheartedly encourage it." He misinterpreted Veronica's silence as paralyzing fear because she'd been outted. "And personally? I always thought summers on Mars would be *hot*.*
It took Veronica a good minute after the brothers Casablancas were on their merry, to snap out of it and walk into the Echolls' household.
***
"I looked everywhere outside, and you know what I didn't see?" A recovered Veronica rhetorically asked Logan when she found him vedging in front of the TV, whose multi-Picture-In-Picture displayed the 24-hour surveillance of his abode. "A bear in a beanie riding a unicycle. Not *one*." She flopped down next to him on the couch, sighing. "Circuses today...what happened to standards? Barnum and Bailey have to be turning over in their graves."
"I'm sorry...I missed the part where I invited you into my house." He said rather standoffishly.
"Yeah, but then the door was there, all wide open. Isn't my fault you forgot to tell your guest monkeys to close it when leaving." She retorted. "Also? You didn't *not* invite me in...an apathetic, non-gesture, which throughout the world, has continually come to mean, 'Please enter my fridge and raid it.' Yeah, some small nuances get lost in the translation, but regardless, I believe the point's been made."
"Man, it must be exhausting loving yourself so constantly." He snarkily responded, grabbing the seven-iron that was laid across his coffee table prior to leaving the couch with it.
"Only if I do it right." She quipped, turning around to see him taking practice swings.
"How many would you guess I could ace from up here? Rough estimate." Logan wondered, each swing getting stronger than the one before it. "Been working on my fade shot, and I really wanna concuss the douchebag from 'E! News.'"
Veronica got up now, and clicked off the television. "That's probably not the best goal to strive for right now."
"But think of the ratings spike that's just waiting in the wings." He tried to tell her. "They'll be able to milk the footage for weeks, and this homicidal, racist, Tinsel Town wild child, gets to have a small moment of immense, personal satisfaction." Veronica frowned. "So...where's your bitch? Get loose?"
She bit the inside of her cheek. "Working."
"Which corner?"
"At the Hut." She enlightened him. "And just to clue you in, we're equal opportunity bitches; we take turns."
"Just assumed, you know, now that she's decided to grace our little cesspool with her presence again, you'd finally do it." Veronica's jaw dropped--not him, too. Had there been undertones she was unaware of? "Go to Siam, have yourselves sewn together, maybe join a freakshow...hurry, though. Her mind could change on a dime."
Oh.
"How's that saying go? 'Assuming makes an ass outta you'?" Her dry wit soon gave way to a more serious tone. "Buffy didn't leave because she suddenly hated us, Logan, or why ever you think she did. She was expelled--"
"That's crap. I lost count of the number of expulsions Weevil's racked up, and yet, whaddaya know? He still manages to find his way back into those hallowed halls every year, sparkling with 'Pirate Pride.'"
"*And* her mom wanted to move," Veronica pressed on, getting quieter, "and you don't know the whole story."
"So what if I don't?" Logan said angrily, nearly planting the club into the wall. "In fact, I could give a rat's ass. All 'whole stories' are good for, is helping crappy situations that kind of inherently suck anyway--as the adjective, 'crappy,' implies--to plummet to fun, *new* levels of suck. One such story features my dad in a starring role. Can hear all about him...during the twelve hours a day they're bored with me." He smiled grimly. "Father and son, competing for airtime. Who knew I'd be following in the old man's tracks? I really hope the next step is taking Phoebe Cates from behind in the bathroom at the Oscars."
Veronica was prepared to reverse at a moment's notice. "My dad and I are the ones who put together that whole story, not Buffy. We're who you should be mad at."
"At least you stayed." Were there tears in his eyes?
Halfway through a swing, he stopped. As the club began to lower, she began to move closer. "You're not really mad at her, are you?" She reached her hand out to touch his arm as it clicked for her. "You're mad at Lilly." He didn't want to be, she was dead and it wasn't right, but he was. "Because she didn't stay."
The club dropped to the floor, and for the second time, Logan Echolls was breaking down in her arms. "If she'd never had sex with that son of a bitch..." That was as far as he got, but the rest was going to be something like, "She would've kept us all together, and my life wouldn't be this shitty mess."
When the crying stopped, he asked, "Why are you here, Veronica?"
Hmm. Good question. "Because I know," More like hope, "that if we can find out the truth about what happened on the bridge, maybe track down that witness who called 911, you'll be--"
"I don't need a detective," He interrupted her, and not just because his lawyers were going to crush the bikers even without the whole story, "I need you."
His words hung in the air for what seemed like an eternity, until Veronica, almost inaudibly said, "Okay."
Now was this because she owed him, because she couldn't say no to a broken, weeping boy who needed someone to care, or because she sincerely wanted this? Veronica chose not to dwell.