Summer In Neptune (4/?) Veronica/Buffy
Title: Summer In Neptune (4/?)
Author: Pat Kelly
Pairing: Veronica/Buffy
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2774
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.
-----------------------------------------------------
Two weeks and change after Buffy had suggested to Veronica that she get a job at "Java the Hut," she was on her second day. Seeing as how Lilly's murder was solved and Logan didn't want her help, she bit the bullet, and was more than ready to join America's bottom dollar workforce, thereby hanging up her PI hat. Much to her father's delight, obviously.
She'd left the detecting to Nancy Drew, and adopted "normal" as her watchword. Well, as normal as possible when you had a boyfriend eighty-seven percent of the country believed committed murder, and when you had a vampire slayer for a bosom buddy. A term which was not a euphemism. Besides, she'd committed to the aforementioned boyfriend.
Life had certainly calmed. Her father was back at work, and she and Buffy were joint, willing slaves to the service industry--though they drew the line at a cat-o'-nine-tails. She liked having Buffy at the house after the slavery ended for the day, too. While she cherished the company of Backup and her father, having the other girl there was...different. In a way that was just...different.
Which shed light on nothing, but hey. She was on the clock, anyhow. No time for dallying and dillying with her thoughts.
Krista, Java the Hut's manager (who was indeed nice), had been on the phone all morning dealing with some supply crisis, so Veronica was supposed to turn to the next, senior person at the Hut today, if she had any questions. That person was "Anne." A.K.A. Buffy.
"Soon you are to be explaining for why 'between name' is known here, yes?" Veronica asked in a mock Russian accent, once she gave a customer his change and receipt at the register. "Because Fearless Leader's patience shrinks tiny by moment, dahlink."
"What do you say we just make Moose and Squirrel go boom? Then maybe he care no more, eh, Natasha?" Buffy did her best to play her role.
"I wouldn't count on it, Boris." Veronica's accent was gone. "Seriously, explain? Because I seem to recall years of groundings. Groundings usually beginning with a certain moniker-pair, that slowly drove you to hate 'Anne.' Passionately."
"But she was useful when 'Buffy' wanted to disappear." The slayer reminded, wiping off the counter as Veronica came next to her.
"For the running away! Of course! How could I forget?" Veronica smacked her forehead. "Funny how quick disappearing into a new life became your average, run of the mill, 'summer vacation' though, isn't it?" She stage whispered, "Eensy tip? Next time, try dropping off the face of the earth to a place your mother *wouldn't* instantly think to check. Like Kazakhstan."
"Maybe I only wanted to see if she'd bother, and try clearing my head a little." Buffy put forth, and if that was the case, she was quite happy with the results. "And maybe I wanted to re-bond with you...which, so far? I'm glad I'm doing. So far."
Veronica knew Buffy meant that, despite trying to undercut the sentiment. So she did the same, slugging her on shoulder good-naturedly. "Back at ya, 'Anne.'" Then she winked, and went to play hostess for the new arrivals.
And to repeatedly say, "How is everything?" until it lost all meaning.
***
When she returned, Buffy was waiting for a new pot of coffee. "Where is the point in having a kitschy name if no one's gonna ask me if I speak Huttese? Where, I ask you?" She was very disappointed. "Tell me I haven't already missed the 'fanboy' crowd this week."
"Wait till Friday night."
"Sci-Fi Channel?" Veronica asked looking at the Hut's TV, and received a nod and an eye roll when her gaze returned to Buffy. "Ooh, 'Who's the hottest Cylon?' debates! Don't you just love those?"
"You've seen 'Battlestar Galactica'?"
"Nope, not a frame. Just a crapload of online polls asking, 'Who's the hottest cylon?' Still, knowing a smidge of 'Geek' does often come in handy."
Chuckle. "All I care about, is that's the night the tips get good." Buffy replied, knowing the reason for that was her feminine shape.
Veronica smirked as the coffee maker dinged. "And if you knew what planet the Goa'uld came from, they'd get *great*. Only gotta flash some cred, and," She snapped her fingers, "putty. In hand. I'm just sayin'."
"So you've had previous experience? With flashing?" Buffy bemusedly questioned, grabbing the pot and moving to do her rounds. "Other than as a dare, I mean."
"A girl has to be prepared to make sacrifices." Veronica said enigmatically to Buffy's back as the girl went to do refills. But when Buffy stiffened, a memory triggered, she berated herself. "Brilliant, Veronica. Way to dig right in there and just tear open that emotional wound." She hurried over to prevent the dropping of a scalding hot beverage. "Here, I got it." She freed the pot from Buffy's grip, and saw that the manager was back, "Krista, can we, uh--?"
Taking the coffee from Veronica, Krista gave the okay immediately. She'd seen Buffy's face. Sigh...just when the head-fog was starting to lift.
***
They entered the storage room, and Veronica led her to the bench that sat to the side of heavy, metal door that opened to the alley and dumpster. "I wanna kick my own ass, which means I wouldn't blame you if--"
"I'm fine; it's fine." Buffy uttered on autopilot, and knew how false it sounded. There was a beat, and then an exhale, "Well, I should be; have to get over it, don't I? Saved the world, greater good, can't go back..."
"...plus other 'blah, blah, blah.' Doesn't matter." Veronica said, sitting beside her on the bench, and draping an arm her shoulders. "What have we repeatedly learned, huh? Trying to set a timetable for getting over a *traditional* breakup becomes pointless before it's even off the ground." She paused a moment. "So, given this proven absolute, color me pretty confident as I hypothesize." She went on, unable to stop it from sounding like a college lecture. "Trying to timetable after sending a boyfriend to a non-metaphorical hell? *Has to* increase the pointlessness exponentially." She would've subjected her hypothesis to the scientific method, if it were possible. "If there's any lovelorn female who oughta be allowed Infinity to wallow--while listening to 'The Virgin Suicides,' naturally--it's you."
Buffy smiled gratefully, resting her head on Veronica's shoulder. "'Cept I'm already tired of wallowing. I don't wanna keep remembering the look on his face, or kissing him just before..." She sniffed, fighting off her natural inclination to succumb to tears. "I'd like to stop now, please."
Not even fleeing to her childhood home could erase those painful, final seconds with a re-ensouled Angel. But at least she had Veronica to help take the edge off. Which counted for a lot, even when, like now, they both were simply mulling over their complicated relationships in comfortable silence. As much as she enjoyed this more mature, quick-witted Veronica Mars who turned her defeats into fuel to move forward, the quiet one who just knew how to be there, was equally enjoyable.
There'd been hundreds of moments just like this through their lives, but one in particular surfaced all the sudden. Eighth grade Christmas break had just started. She'd been thirteen (soon to be fourteen; Veronica had been for four months), and they were sitting down by the waves on the beach--because winter didn't happen in California--counting hermit crab tracks in the sand. Until--
{"Duncan kissed me today." Veronica had revealed, almost guiltily. "I didn't believe Lilly when she was saying he liked me, but...he kissed me. At his house. Under the mistletoe."}
It felt like a long time before she'd responded to that, but she had wanted to gag.
{"So you're gonna like...be a couple now?" Her tone was hard to nail down, though it sure hadn't been excited.}
{"I dunno. I guess we hafta be." Veronica had answered, unsure, as this would be her first boyfriend. "I mean, he's totally sweet, *and* cute, so why not? Besides, Lilly says you *have* to have a boyfriend for high school, and that everyone'll be like, insanely jealous."}
{"I'll bet."}
It wasn't that Buffy ever hated Lilly; she just hated how Veronica worshipped her. And it was at that moment when Buffy had been on the verge of pinpointing a feeling that had steadily grown over the years. She remembered Veronica grabbing her hand, then.
{"We're still gonna hang out and stuff, though. We won't stop being friends just 'cause I'll be dating him."}
{"I know. I just think," For some reason it slipped out of reach, and she said something other than whatever it was, "I'm gonna ask out Jason Martin."}
{Veronica seemed to expect something else also, but let it go. "Ooh, you should! He so checks you out in Chemistry. We could all...triple date!" Then they laughed, and that was it.}
But Jason lasted about a week. All her "boyfriends" up until the destiny kicked in lasted about a week. Then no one wanted to go near her, except Veronica.
"You having lunch with Logan today?" Buffy questioned once she came back to the present.
Despite the murder charge, Clemmons couldn't deny him the right to summer school. Yet. Veronica went to the campus daily, on her break, to eat with him. Being the girlfriend.
"That's the routine." Veronica stated, then was going to volley the necessary, "Why," but instead it came out as, "Do you not want me to?"
"Why wouldn't I want you to?" Buffy picked her head up and looked semi-quizzically at her friend.
"Uh, because you don't think I'm happy with him?" Veronica saw that plainly over the last two weeks. "Might not be actively detecting anymore, Buffy, but a girl never forgets how."
Buffy didn't deny Veronica's observation of her observation. "*Are* you happy with him? In between the 'making out,' that is--when the hormones sleep."
"I'm guessing this isn't the best time to ask if it's okay to invite Logan along when your friends visit." Veronica was being evasive, and Buffy glared, so she sighed and got to it. "Not...completely, no. But who's *ever* completely happy? Honestly."
"The dwarf." Buffy quipped.
"Ha." Never had a "ha" drowned in so much sarcasm. "We should get back out there." Veronica subconsciously, brushed her fingers over Buffy's as they left the bench. "I know it appears like I'm avoiding--"
That feeling was back again...
"No, you're right. We should."
...but it would have to wait.
***
"And how're my little 'minimum wagerers' doing this evening?" Keith asked as he put on his jacket, and was looking ready to leave as they arrived.
"Hmm...a sixty-six-year-old geriatric in a wheelchair kept calling me 'sugar lips,' and then gave my caboose a friendly 'hello' when it was time for his check." Veronica offered in answer, collapsing in the zebra striped chair. "Think he was a veteran." If the stickers on his wheelchair weren't just decoration. "Who's still making America proud." She added, chipper.
Buffy collapsed on the sofa. "I wanted to break his catheter."
"Which ultimately would've been no fun for anyone."
"Did your elderly Casanova at least tip well?" Her father queried.
"Forty-percent." Veronica said with a smile, even if he did only have a piece of $3.00 cake. "Can you imagine if I'd let him do some honking?" She gestured to her chest.
Keith addressed Buffy, speaking as the cop he was at heart. "If that man touches her again? Report him. You also have my permission to break his hip; I don't care how patriotic and enfeebled he is."
"Will do, Mr. M." Buffy promised happily.
"I'm sure I don't need to tell you this, but, if it comes to that? Just don't forget how strong you are." He amended, watching her and his daughter exchange disbelieving looks. He could've been referring to the age difference, but he wasn't, and his expression said so. "I have a couple friends in the Sunnydale P.D. who like to talk about things they shouldn't. And your name's come up every once in a while."
"You knew?" The girls asked simultaneously.
"About Buffy? Only within the last year." He revealed. "But I've heard stories about Sunnydale since I was a rookie. And Vinnie, who'll take anything, hasn't touched a case even *remotely* connected to that town ever since the philandering husband he followed there one time, got eaten by the prostitute he was sleeping with." He grabbed his keys off the counter. "I'm just sorry I wasn't in a better position to help you a couple years ago; I held you when you were six weeks old--I knew you weren't a bad kid."
They were rather stunned, but Buffy managed to say, "Thank you."
"Hold it," Veronica said, finally realizing he was going out the door, "where ya off to? Bail jumper? Club-hopping? Power-walk?"
"Draft." He was going to have a beer?
"What kind? Yingling? Heineken? Miller Genuine? Samuel Adams? Coors? Foster's? Bud?" She rattled off.
"Wise?" Buffy jumped in.
"Er?" Veronica completed, nodding in respect at her friend for picking that up. "And precisely how drunk will you be getting?"
"Should I be frightened that my underage daughter knows the names of all those alcoholic beverages so readily?" He wondered.
"I'd be more frightened by the amount of TV she absorbs." The slayer advised him.
He smiled when his daughter held up her fist. "If you must know, the second draft of the book is finished, and the guy from the Tribune wants me to go look it over." He kissed the tops of both girls' heads. "I'll try not to be too late, Backup's been fed, and I bought stuff for homemade pizza. Dough's in the fridge...Adios."
"The second draft of the book you wanted absolutely no part in?" Veronica had to yell as he vanished, but she knew they needed the money.
Then she and Buffy did a double-take. "Did he say--?" Buffy began.
"--dough?" Veronica finished. Her father needed to stop watching the DIY Network.
But shrugging at one another, they assumed there had to be instructions, so how hard could it be?
***
Well, see, here's the thing. There were some problems with the flattening and the flour application and the flipping and the tossing...basically, the whole process was flawed. Skilled they were at many things, but 'culinary prowess' was sadly not among the many. There was white and red everywhere. However, at least they'd had the good sense to wear aprons over their work uniforms.
It was like a bad sitcom scene, with Backup just licking away at this rare opportunity for people food. Surveying the damage, they were frustrated, exhausted, and starving. They'd thought about calling Mac and begging her to come over and help--her family always did 'homemade things' together--but it was "MythBusters Wednesday," and you didn't interrupt Mac while she was nerd-crushing on Jamie Hyneman and his moustache.
Maybe Veronica's dad was right now getting a sadistic thrill out of imagining their predicament. They wanted to scream, but when they looked at one another, the absurd humor of the whole mess came crashing down, and they lost it, falling into one another for mutual support. It must've gone on for five minutes or more; each time they thought they'd laughed their last, it began anew.
When their stomachs hurt too much to continue and their eyes were too wet to see, the feeling was there. As was the proximity and that moment of forgetting sauce and flour-stained cheeks and noses, when there was the wanting to kiss. Where it came from they knew not, but they did know there was no Angel, no Logan, and that they kept waiting for score to a John Hughes movie to swell in the background.
When their lips met, it was good; when their mouths opened, it was better; and when it was just getting great, they caught up to what their mouths were doing, and everything ceased. Except the feeling. This time, it wouldn't go away.
What does one say when such an unexpected thing occurs?
"Um, you know, Corny delivers for 'Cho's Pizza.' We could call and, um, you know, order." Veronica said in a daze. "A pizza."
"Ordering pizza is...an idea of the good." Buffy's mastery of the English language was no better.
"Then I'll just...get the phone...number."
"I'll help dial."
You know what the strangest part of kissing, and enjoying kissing Buffy Summers was for Veronica Mars? Having to acknowledge, even if only to herself, that Dick Casablancas had in this instance, been astute. That was terrifying.
Author: Pat Kelly
Pairing: Veronica/Buffy
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2774
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.
-----------------------------------------------------
Two weeks and change after Buffy had suggested to Veronica that she get a job at "Java the Hut," she was on her second day. Seeing as how Lilly's murder was solved and Logan didn't want her help, she bit the bullet, and was more than ready to join America's bottom dollar workforce, thereby hanging up her PI hat. Much to her father's delight, obviously.
She'd left the detecting to Nancy Drew, and adopted "normal" as her watchword. Well, as normal as possible when you had a boyfriend eighty-seven percent of the country believed committed murder, and when you had a vampire slayer for a bosom buddy. A term which was not a euphemism. Besides, she'd committed to the aforementioned boyfriend.
Life had certainly calmed. Her father was back at work, and she and Buffy were joint, willing slaves to the service industry--though they drew the line at a cat-o'-nine-tails. She liked having Buffy at the house after the slavery ended for the day, too. While she cherished the company of Backup and her father, having the other girl there was...different. In a way that was just...different.
Which shed light on nothing, but hey. She was on the clock, anyhow. No time for dallying and dillying with her thoughts.
Krista, Java the Hut's manager (who was indeed nice), had been on the phone all morning dealing with some supply crisis, so Veronica was supposed to turn to the next, senior person at the Hut today, if she had any questions. That person was "Anne." A.K.A. Buffy.
"Soon you are to be explaining for why 'between name' is known here, yes?" Veronica asked in a mock Russian accent, once she gave a customer his change and receipt at the register. "Because Fearless Leader's patience shrinks tiny by moment, dahlink."
"What do you say we just make Moose and Squirrel go boom? Then maybe he care no more, eh, Natasha?" Buffy did her best to play her role.
"I wouldn't count on it, Boris." Veronica's accent was gone. "Seriously, explain? Because I seem to recall years of groundings. Groundings usually beginning with a certain moniker-pair, that slowly drove you to hate 'Anne.' Passionately."
"But she was useful when 'Buffy' wanted to disappear." The slayer reminded, wiping off the counter as Veronica came next to her.
"For the running away! Of course! How could I forget?" Veronica smacked her forehead. "Funny how quick disappearing into a new life became your average, run of the mill, 'summer vacation' though, isn't it?" She stage whispered, "Eensy tip? Next time, try dropping off the face of the earth to a place your mother *wouldn't* instantly think to check. Like Kazakhstan."
"Maybe I only wanted to see if she'd bother, and try clearing my head a little." Buffy put forth, and if that was the case, she was quite happy with the results. "And maybe I wanted to re-bond with you...which, so far? I'm glad I'm doing. So far."
Veronica knew Buffy meant that, despite trying to undercut the sentiment. So she did the same, slugging her on shoulder good-naturedly. "Back at ya, 'Anne.'" Then she winked, and went to play hostess for the new arrivals.
And to repeatedly say, "How is everything?" until it lost all meaning.
***
When she returned, Buffy was waiting for a new pot of coffee. "Where is the point in having a kitschy name if no one's gonna ask me if I speak Huttese? Where, I ask you?" She was very disappointed. "Tell me I haven't already missed the 'fanboy' crowd this week."
"Wait till Friday night."
"Sci-Fi Channel?" Veronica asked looking at the Hut's TV, and received a nod and an eye roll when her gaze returned to Buffy. "Ooh, 'Who's the hottest Cylon?' debates! Don't you just love those?"
"You've seen 'Battlestar Galactica'?"
"Nope, not a frame. Just a crapload of online polls asking, 'Who's the hottest cylon?' Still, knowing a smidge of 'Geek' does often come in handy."
Chuckle. "All I care about, is that's the night the tips get good." Buffy replied, knowing the reason for that was her feminine shape.
Veronica smirked as the coffee maker dinged. "And if you knew what planet the Goa'uld came from, they'd get *great*. Only gotta flash some cred, and," She snapped her fingers, "putty. In hand. I'm just sayin'."
"So you've had previous experience? With flashing?" Buffy bemusedly questioned, grabbing the pot and moving to do her rounds. "Other than as a dare, I mean."
"A girl has to be prepared to make sacrifices." Veronica said enigmatically to Buffy's back as the girl went to do refills. But when Buffy stiffened, a memory triggered, she berated herself. "Brilliant, Veronica. Way to dig right in there and just tear open that emotional wound." She hurried over to prevent the dropping of a scalding hot beverage. "Here, I got it." She freed the pot from Buffy's grip, and saw that the manager was back, "Krista, can we, uh--?"
Taking the coffee from Veronica, Krista gave the okay immediately. She'd seen Buffy's face. Sigh...just when the head-fog was starting to lift.
***
They entered the storage room, and Veronica led her to the bench that sat to the side of heavy, metal door that opened to the alley and dumpster. "I wanna kick my own ass, which means I wouldn't blame you if--"
"I'm fine; it's fine." Buffy uttered on autopilot, and knew how false it sounded. There was a beat, and then an exhale, "Well, I should be; have to get over it, don't I? Saved the world, greater good, can't go back..."
"...plus other 'blah, blah, blah.' Doesn't matter." Veronica said, sitting beside her on the bench, and draping an arm her shoulders. "What have we repeatedly learned, huh? Trying to set a timetable for getting over a *traditional* breakup becomes pointless before it's even off the ground." She paused a moment. "So, given this proven absolute, color me pretty confident as I hypothesize." She went on, unable to stop it from sounding like a college lecture. "Trying to timetable after sending a boyfriend to a non-metaphorical hell? *Has to* increase the pointlessness exponentially." She would've subjected her hypothesis to the scientific method, if it were possible. "If there's any lovelorn female who oughta be allowed Infinity to wallow--while listening to 'The Virgin Suicides,' naturally--it's you."
Buffy smiled gratefully, resting her head on Veronica's shoulder. "'Cept I'm already tired of wallowing. I don't wanna keep remembering the look on his face, or kissing him just before..." She sniffed, fighting off her natural inclination to succumb to tears. "I'd like to stop now, please."
Not even fleeing to her childhood home could erase those painful, final seconds with a re-ensouled Angel. But at least she had Veronica to help take the edge off. Which counted for a lot, even when, like now, they both were simply mulling over their complicated relationships in comfortable silence. As much as she enjoyed this more mature, quick-witted Veronica Mars who turned her defeats into fuel to move forward, the quiet one who just knew how to be there, was equally enjoyable.
There'd been hundreds of moments just like this through their lives, but one in particular surfaced all the sudden. Eighth grade Christmas break had just started. She'd been thirteen (soon to be fourteen; Veronica had been for four months), and they were sitting down by the waves on the beach--because winter didn't happen in California--counting hermit crab tracks in the sand. Until--
{"Duncan kissed me today." Veronica had revealed, almost guiltily. "I didn't believe Lilly when she was saying he liked me, but...he kissed me. At his house. Under the mistletoe."}
It felt like a long time before she'd responded to that, but she had wanted to gag.
{"So you're gonna like...be a couple now?" Her tone was hard to nail down, though it sure hadn't been excited.}
{"I dunno. I guess we hafta be." Veronica had answered, unsure, as this would be her first boyfriend. "I mean, he's totally sweet, *and* cute, so why not? Besides, Lilly says you *have* to have a boyfriend for high school, and that everyone'll be like, insanely jealous."}
{"I'll bet."}
It wasn't that Buffy ever hated Lilly; she just hated how Veronica worshipped her. And it was at that moment when Buffy had been on the verge of pinpointing a feeling that had steadily grown over the years. She remembered Veronica grabbing her hand, then.
{"We're still gonna hang out and stuff, though. We won't stop being friends just 'cause I'll be dating him."}
{"I know. I just think," For some reason it slipped out of reach, and she said something other than whatever it was, "I'm gonna ask out Jason Martin."}
{Veronica seemed to expect something else also, but let it go. "Ooh, you should! He so checks you out in Chemistry. We could all...triple date!" Then they laughed, and that was it.}
But Jason lasted about a week. All her "boyfriends" up until the destiny kicked in lasted about a week. Then no one wanted to go near her, except Veronica.
"You having lunch with Logan today?" Buffy questioned once she came back to the present.
Despite the murder charge, Clemmons couldn't deny him the right to summer school. Yet. Veronica went to the campus daily, on her break, to eat with him. Being the girlfriend.
"That's the routine." Veronica stated, then was going to volley the necessary, "Why," but instead it came out as, "Do you not want me to?"
"Why wouldn't I want you to?" Buffy picked her head up and looked semi-quizzically at her friend.
"Uh, because you don't think I'm happy with him?" Veronica saw that plainly over the last two weeks. "Might not be actively detecting anymore, Buffy, but a girl never forgets how."
Buffy didn't deny Veronica's observation of her observation. "*Are* you happy with him? In between the 'making out,' that is--when the hormones sleep."
"I'm guessing this isn't the best time to ask if it's okay to invite Logan along when your friends visit." Veronica was being evasive, and Buffy glared, so she sighed and got to it. "Not...completely, no. But who's *ever* completely happy? Honestly."
"The dwarf." Buffy quipped.
"Ha." Never had a "ha" drowned in so much sarcasm. "We should get back out there." Veronica subconsciously, brushed her fingers over Buffy's as they left the bench. "I know it appears like I'm avoiding--"
That feeling was back again...
"No, you're right. We should."
...but it would have to wait.
***
"And how're my little 'minimum wagerers' doing this evening?" Keith asked as he put on his jacket, and was looking ready to leave as they arrived.
"Hmm...a sixty-six-year-old geriatric in a wheelchair kept calling me 'sugar lips,' and then gave my caboose a friendly 'hello' when it was time for his check." Veronica offered in answer, collapsing in the zebra striped chair. "Think he was a veteran." If the stickers on his wheelchair weren't just decoration. "Who's still making America proud." She added, chipper.
Buffy collapsed on the sofa. "I wanted to break his catheter."
"Which ultimately would've been no fun for anyone."
"Did your elderly Casanova at least tip well?" Her father queried.
"Forty-percent." Veronica said with a smile, even if he did only have a piece of $3.00 cake. "Can you imagine if I'd let him do some honking?" She gestured to her chest.
Keith addressed Buffy, speaking as the cop he was at heart. "If that man touches her again? Report him. You also have my permission to break his hip; I don't care how patriotic and enfeebled he is."
"Will do, Mr. M." Buffy promised happily.
"I'm sure I don't need to tell you this, but, if it comes to that? Just don't forget how strong you are." He amended, watching her and his daughter exchange disbelieving looks. He could've been referring to the age difference, but he wasn't, and his expression said so. "I have a couple friends in the Sunnydale P.D. who like to talk about things they shouldn't. And your name's come up every once in a while."
"You knew?" The girls asked simultaneously.
"About Buffy? Only within the last year." He revealed. "But I've heard stories about Sunnydale since I was a rookie. And Vinnie, who'll take anything, hasn't touched a case even *remotely* connected to that town ever since the philandering husband he followed there one time, got eaten by the prostitute he was sleeping with." He grabbed his keys off the counter. "I'm just sorry I wasn't in a better position to help you a couple years ago; I held you when you were six weeks old--I knew you weren't a bad kid."
They were rather stunned, but Buffy managed to say, "Thank you."
"Hold it," Veronica said, finally realizing he was going out the door, "where ya off to? Bail jumper? Club-hopping? Power-walk?"
"Draft." He was going to have a beer?
"What kind? Yingling? Heineken? Miller Genuine? Samuel Adams? Coors? Foster's? Bud?" She rattled off.
"Wise?" Buffy jumped in.
"Er?" Veronica completed, nodding in respect at her friend for picking that up. "And precisely how drunk will you be getting?"
"Should I be frightened that my underage daughter knows the names of all those alcoholic beverages so readily?" He wondered.
"I'd be more frightened by the amount of TV she absorbs." The slayer advised him.
He smiled when his daughter held up her fist. "If you must know, the second draft of the book is finished, and the guy from the Tribune wants me to go look it over." He kissed the tops of both girls' heads. "I'll try not to be too late, Backup's been fed, and I bought stuff for homemade pizza. Dough's in the fridge...Adios."
"The second draft of the book you wanted absolutely no part in?" Veronica had to yell as he vanished, but she knew they needed the money.
Then she and Buffy did a double-take. "Did he say--?" Buffy began.
"--dough?" Veronica finished. Her father needed to stop watching the DIY Network.
But shrugging at one another, they assumed there had to be instructions, so how hard could it be?
***
Well, see, here's the thing. There were some problems with the flattening and the flour application and the flipping and the tossing...basically, the whole process was flawed. Skilled they were at many things, but 'culinary prowess' was sadly not among the many. There was white and red everywhere. However, at least they'd had the good sense to wear aprons over their work uniforms.
It was like a bad sitcom scene, with Backup just licking away at this rare opportunity for people food. Surveying the damage, they were frustrated, exhausted, and starving. They'd thought about calling Mac and begging her to come over and help--her family always did 'homemade things' together--but it was "MythBusters Wednesday," and you didn't interrupt Mac while she was nerd-crushing on Jamie Hyneman and his moustache.
Maybe Veronica's dad was right now getting a sadistic thrill out of imagining their predicament. They wanted to scream, but when they looked at one another, the absurd humor of the whole mess came crashing down, and they lost it, falling into one another for mutual support. It must've gone on for five minutes or more; each time they thought they'd laughed their last, it began anew.
When their stomachs hurt too much to continue and their eyes were too wet to see, the feeling was there. As was the proximity and that moment of forgetting sauce and flour-stained cheeks and noses, when there was the wanting to kiss. Where it came from they knew not, but they did know there was no Angel, no Logan, and that they kept waiting for score to a John Hughes movie to swell in the background.
When their lips met, it was good; when their mouths opened, it was better; and when it was just getting great, they caught up to what their mouths were doing, and everything ceased. Except the feeling. This time, it wouldn't go away.
What does one say when such an unexpected thing occurs?
"Um, you know, Corny delivers for 'Cho's Pizza.' We could call and, um, you know, order." Veronica said in a daze. "A pizza."
"Ordering pizza is...an idea of the good." Buffy's mastery of the English language was no better.
"Then I'll just...get the phone...number."
"I'll help dial."
You know what the strangest part of kissing, and enjoying kissing Buffy Summers was for Veronica Mars? Having to acknowledge, even if only to herself, that Dick Casablancas had in this instance, been astute. That was terrifying.