FIC: G-ddamn Garden Gnomes (Buffy/Veronica), R
Title: "G-ddamn Garden Gnomes" (A "lost scene" from the BSaR-verse)
Author: Pat Kelly
Pairing: Veronica/Buffy
Rating: R
Word Count: 1459
Summary: 'Tis what it is. :-)
Spoilers: BtVS S6, Ep 19, "Seeing Red"
Disclaimer: Joss and Rob, FOX and Warner Bros. All is yours.
Note: Okay, the series is still done, but I started getting ideas for going back and just doing a scene here and there set within the canon of both shows, so these may pop up from time to time. I like these girls too much apparently. :-)
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Veronica ran her hands through her hair for about the sixth time, standing against the wall. Then she stepped away and paced her own private corner of the hospital waiting room again, tapping her fingers together nervously. She looked at the double doors for the twentieth time. In the last five minutes. She wouldn't lose it, she wouldn't lose it...
Willow came over from where she'd been sitting with Tara on the chairs. The blonde witch followed her. "Veronica--"
Veronica cut her off. "No offense, Willow, but…go away."
Tara took the redhead by the shoulders. "C'mon, honey."
"I was just trying to..." Willow wanted to explain herself.
"She knows."
Veronica remembered hearing it. It happened too fast for her to see it. Everything had happened too fast lately. Her dad's death, his funeral, Buffy's near-paralysis...Buffy's getting shot in the backyard. BLAM. One second, not shot; the next, shot. On the ground.
It was time to compulsively run her hands through her hair again. Her dad, now Buffy? From a gun? Because of that misogynistic piece of shit? No. *No*. She wouldn't lose it. How long had it been? Were surgeries supposed to last this long?
She sank to the ground, and cupped fists in front of her mouth.
"Xander pickin' up the kid?"
Veronica looked up at Faith, who came from...somewhere. The smell of cigarette smoke gave a clue. "I guess. I dunno." She noted the slayer's taped up fist. "How is it?"
Faith's eyes darkened. "Shouldn'ta held back."
Veronica closed hers, saw the images behind her lids, and opened them to stop seeing. "Not what I meant.”
The brunette stretched out her fingers. "Said I held back, didn’t I?"
He was here, too. If he had to be breathing, hopefully it was through a tube.
They were both alone with themselves for a few minutes after that when Faith uttered, wide-eyed, "Fuck. No fucking way." Sometimes the “slayer connection” sucked.
Veronica was on her feet, panicked. "What?" Faith looked gut-punched. "*Faith*."
The answer she didn't want, but got anyway? "She's dead."
~~~
"Before, they just used to be why I boycotted Travelocity." Veronica said as she and Buffy searched the backyard for more camera-packing garden gnomes, and hidden cameras in general. "Now I have an even better reason."
"I wasn't imagining jetpacks, was I?" Buffy asked, poking the grass with a stick. "They had 'em, right?"
"Much as I think you, snug in straps, would be dead sexy...that's a big 10-4. Warren's no 'Rocketeer.'” Veronica confirmed that her girlfriend still gripped reality and sanity. “Don’t wanna call it too early, but it’s looking all clear.”
Buffy sighed in relief. “Good. This was getting weird.” She halted right then
“Yeah, that’s my fault. Watching you jab the earth the way you do stirs up these...feelings.” She flashed an “oops” smile. “I’ll take them over rage and debilitating grief.” Must’ve been the others’ rare day off.
With an understanding, supportive smile, Buffy squeezed Veronica against her as they started walking toward the back porch. “I’m smelling Italian.”
“How’d we live without a ‘Tara’?” Veronica questioned.
Tara had kind of taken care of all of them once Keith died. With the Council recalling Giles to England after Glory was stopped (figuring that if he’d produced the longest surviving slayer in history, other watchers would benefit from his experience), she kept the house in order. No one expected her to when they asked her to move in; they only didn’t want her to have to live alone on campus--but Tara took it upon herself.
“I microwaved, you baked. Sometimes there was scooping. Ordering--we were great at ordering. With phones.”
“Ever see a Snickerdoodle or Papa John’s menu again, it’ll be too soon.” Veronica said, looking towards the back door. “If we’re gonna eat tonight, we better pray cooking and smelling that smell isn’t an aphrodisiac.”
A redhead was in the kitchen with their chef as well. After fall semester, Willow did what Buffy and Veronica had done a year earlier. She packed up her Hearst-earned college credits and transferred them to UC Sunnydale. And in an obvious move, she transferred herself here, because here was Tara. She was so witch-whipped. Since late, last summer officially.
The house was a lesbitastic place.
Buffy halted again. “God, what if they are?”
“Xander arrives soon, I know what he’d say.” Veronica grinned. Buffy shook her head. “But *we’ll* say ‘get a room’ for the hundredth time, and when we do, remember to specify--“
Warren Meers’ voice interrupted their conversation. “You think you can just do that to me? That I'd let you get away with it? Think again.”
The girls both turned, unprepared to see him standing there. Let alone standing there with a gun. Yet Buffy reacted instinctively, protectively, and shoved Veronica down.
BLAM. BLAM. BLAM. BLAM. BLAM.
His aim was wild. An upstairs window took a bullet. A tree. A slayer.
Backup was the first one out of the house. He flew out into the yard barking viciously and leapt at the intruder on his property as the intruder tried to flee. His paws held Warren down with all his weight behind them, and he snarled and growled right above the murderer’s face.
Veronica picked herself up and immediately crawled over to a prone Buffy. Her eyes were open in shock, but she said nothing. Her chest. The shot was real close to...her shirt. Her blood.
The new girlfriends were the next ones out. Veronica looked over at them. “911. Yesterday!”
As Tara went in to call, Faith pushed past her and zeroed in on the subdued Warren. She charged over, kicked the gun away, and the look in her eyes scared Backup off of him. She bent down, pulled Warren up by the shirt collar, and just started letting loose on his face.
Willow ran over to Buffy and Veronica, and seeing her best friend like that, she couldn’t keep from crying. “Buffy? Oh my god, nonono. Buffy!”
Veronica was by Buffy’s head, cradling it in her hands and her lap. She couldn’t deal with crying right now. Sharply she said, “Stop her.”
Willow was somewhere between pissed and perplexed. “Stop...?”
“Faith. Stop Faith. Quick.”
The hacker witnessed the other slayer going apeshit, but just before she got over there, Faith stopped herself. Jumped off, and defensively showed her bloody-knuckled hands. Most of the red wasn’t hers.
“Better stay the hell with me, Buffy. Got it?” Veronica ordered, her eyes boring into hazel ones she was trying to will to remain open. She had to keep her conscious. “You listening? Don’t go *anywhere*. The ambulance is gonna pull up any minute now, and if you want the pleasure of my company in back, your eyes’ll keep staring right where they are.
“But that should go without saying. I’m your girlfriend. Who you adore--why would they wanna stare at anything else? And you’re doing great so far. Really. Oughta be able to shake off a bullet, c’mon. Wasn’t even that big.” Though she smiled, her voice broke with every word. “Any minute now. Uh huh.”
By the time she heard Tara say it was coming, she could already hear sirens in the distance.
~~~
It was six hours later, and the surgery was still ongoing. Moments after Faith’s announcement, Veronica barreled through the double-doors and fought through security to catch a glimpse of the doctors before she was hauled away. A few minutes after that, a nurse appeared and explained that while Buffy’s heart had stopped, the surgeon was able to manually get it beating again. But it would be a while yet, because Veronica had been right--the bullet hit dangerously close to that pretty crucial organ.
With that good news, Veronica calmed down some, though Faith was on her shit list. She’d thus been in her corner solo ever since. She wouldn’t speak to the police detectives who wanted her statement. The only other time she let someone in was when Dawn brought her a Kit Kat from the vending machine. But then Buffy’s sister went back to sit with everyone else, and in six hours, Veronica had only taken half a bite.
At six hours and fifty-two minutes, when the doctor finally came out, exhausted, his face was the opposite of grim. It was a success, he’d said.
“We’re moving her into the ICU for a little while just to be sure, but...she’s a strong young woman.”
Buffy’s friends and family cried tears that flown happily, Xander cracked jokes, they all hugged Dawn...the usual relieved reactions. Veronica, though? She wasn’t relieved until she was alone in Buffy’s hospital room later, and saw--and felt--her girlfriend in living color.
She might have cried then.
Author: Pat Kelly
Pairing: Veronica/Buffy
Rating: R
Word Count: 1459
Summary: 'Tis what it is. :-)
Spoilers: BtVS S6, Ep 19, "Seeing Red"
Disclaimer: Joss and Rob, FOX and Warner Bros. All is yours.
Note: Okay, the series is still done, but I started getting ideas for going back and just doing a scene here and there set within the canon of both shows, so these may pop up from time to time. I like these girls too much apparently. :-)
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Veronica ran her hands through her hair for about the sixth time, standing against the wall. Then she stepped away and paced her own private corner of the hospital waiting room again, tapping her fingers together nervously. She looked at the double doors for the twentieth time. In the last five minutes. She wouldn't lose it, she wouldn't lose it...
Willow came over from where she'd been sitting with Tara on the chairs. The blonde witch followed her. "Veronica--"
Veronica cut her off. "No offense, Willow, but…go away."
Tara took the redhead by the shoulders. "C'mon, honey."
"I was just trying to..." Willow wanted to explain herself.
"She knows."
Veronica remembered hearing it. It happened too fast for her to see it. Everything had happened too fast lately. Her dad's death, his funeral, Buffy's near-paralysis...Buffy's getting shot in the backyard. BLAM. One second, not shot; the next, shot. On the ground.
It was time to compulsively run her hands through her hair again. Her dad, now Buffy? From a gun? Because of that misogynistic piece of shit? No. *No*. She wouldn't lose it. How long had it been? Were surgeries supposed to last this long?
She sank to the ground, and cupped fists in front of her mouth.
"Xander pickin' up the kid?"
Veronica looked up at Faith, who came from...somewhere. The smell of cigarette smoke gave a clue. "I guess. I dunno." She noted the slayer's taped up fist. "How is it?"
Faith's eyes darkened. "Shouldn'ta held back."
Veronica closed hers, saw the images behind her lids, and opened them to stop seeing. "Not what I meant.”
The brunette stretched out her fingers. "Said I held back, didn’t I?"
He was here, too. If he had to be breathing, hopefully it was through a tube.
They were both alone with themselves for a few minutes after that when Faith uttered, wide-eyed, "Fuck. No fucking way." Sometimes the “slayer connection” sucked.
Veronica was on her feet, panicked. "What?" Faith looked gut-punched. "*Faith*."
The answer she didn't want, but got anyway? "She's dead."
~~~
"Before, they just used to be why I boycotted Travelocity." Veronica said as she and Buffy searched the backyard for more camera-packing garden gnomes, and hidden cameras in general. "Now I have an even better reason."
"I wasn't imagining jetpacks, was I?" Buffy asked, poking the grass with a stick. "They had 'em, right?"
"Much as I think you, snug in straps, would be dead sexy...that's a big 10-4. Warren's no 'Rocketeer.'” Veronica confirmed that her girlfriend still gripped reality and sanity. “Don’t wanna call it too early, but it’s looking all clear.”
Buffy sighed in relief. “Good. This was getting weird.” She halted right then
“Yeah, that’s my fault. Watching you jab the earth the way you do stirs up these...feelings.” She flashed an “oops” smile. “I’ll take them over rage and debilitating grief.” Must’ve been the others’ rare day off.
With an understanding, supportive smile, Buffy squeezed Veronica against her as they started walking toward the back porch. “I’m smelling Italian.”
“How’d we live without a ‘Tara’?” Veronica questioned.
Tara had kind of taken care of all of them once Keith died. With the Council recalling Giles to England after Glory was stopped (figuring that if he’d produced the longest surviving slayer in history, other watchers would benefit from his experience), she kept the house in order. No one expected her to when they asked her to move in; they only didn’t want her to have to live alone on campus--but Tara took it upon herself.
“I microwaved, you baked. Sometimes there was scooping. Ordering--we were great at ordering. With phones.”
“Ever see a Snickerdoodle or Papa John’s menu again, it’ll be too soon.” Veronica said, looking towards the back door. “If we’re gonna eat tonight, we better pray cooking and smelling that smell isn’t an aphrodisiac.”
A redhead was in the kitchen with their chef as well. After fall semester, Willow did what Buffy and Veronica had done a year earlier. She packed up her Hearst-earned college credits and transferred them to UC Sunnydale. And in an obvious move, she transferred herself here, because here was Tara. She was so witch-whipped. Since late, last summer officially.
The house was a lesbitastic place.
Buffy halted again. “God, what if they are?”
“Xander arrives soon, I know what he’d say.” Veronica grinned. Buffy shook her head. “But *we’ll* say ‘get a room’ for the hundredth time, and when we do, remember to specify--“
Warren Meers’ voice interrupted their conversation. “You think you can just do that to me? That I'd let you get away with it? Think again.”
The girls both turned, unprepared to see him standing there. Let alone standing there with a gun. Yet Buffy reacted instinctively, protectively, and shoved Veronica down.
BLAM. BLAM. BLAM. BLAM. BLAM.
His aim was wild. An upstairs window took a bullet. A tree. A slayer.
Backup was the first one out of the house. He flew out into the yard barking viciously and leapt at the intruder on his property as the intruder tried to flee. His paws held Warren down with all his weight behind them, and he snarled and growled right above the murderer’s face.
Veronica picked herself up and immediately crawled over to a prone Buffy. Her eyes were open in shock, but she said nothing. Her chest. The shot was real close to...her shirt. Her blood.
The new girlfriends were the next ones out. Veronica looked over at them. “911. Yesterday!”
As Tara went in to call, Faith pushed past her and zeroed in on the subdued Warren. She charged over, kicked the gun away, and the look in her eyes scared Backup off of him. She bent down, pulled Warren up by the shirt collar, and just started letting loose on his face.
Willow ran over to Buffy and Veronica, and seeing her best friend like that, she couldn’t keep from crying. “Buffy? Oh my god, nonono. Buffy!”
Veronica was by Buffy’s head, cradling it in her hands and her lap. She couldn’t deal with crying right now. Sharply she said, “Stop her.”
Willow was somewhere between pissed and perplexed. “Stop...?”
“Faith. Stop Faith. Quick.”
The hacker witnessed the other slayer going apeshit, but just before she got over there, Faith stopped herself. Jumped off, and defensively showed her bloody-knuckled hands. Most of the red wasn’t hers.
“Better stay the hell with me, Buffy. Got it?” Veronica ordered, her eyes boring into hazel ones she was trying to will to remain open. She had to keep her conscious. “You listening? Don’t go *anywhere*. The ambulance is gonna pull up any minute now, and if you want the pleasure of my company in back, your eyes’ll keep staring right where they are.
“But that should go without saying. I’m your girlfriend. Who you adore--why would they wanna stare at anything else? And you’re doing great so far. Really. Oughta be able to shake off a bullet, c’mon. Wasn’t even that big.” Though she smiled, her voice broke with every word. “Any minute now. Uh huh.”
By the time she heard Tara say it was coming, she could already hear sirens in the distance.
~~~
It was six hours later, and the surgery was still ongoing. Moments after Faith’s announcement, Veronica barreled through the double-doors and fought through security to catch a glimpse of the doctors before she was hauled away. A few minutes after that, a nurse appeared and explained that while Buffy’s heart had stopped, the surgeon was able to manually get it beating again. But it would be a while yet, because Veronica had been right--the bullet hit dangerously close to that pretty crucial organ.
With that good news, Veronica calmed down some, though Faith was on her shit list. She’d thus been in her corner solo ever since. She wouldn’t speak to the police detectives who wanted her statement. The only other time she let someone in was when Dawn brought her a Kit Kat from the vending machine. But then Buffy’s sister went back to sit with everyone else, and in six hours, Veronica had only taken half a bite.
At six hours and fifty-two minutes, when the doctor finally came out, exhausted, his face was the opposite of grim. It was a success, he’d said.
“We’re moving her into the ICU for a little while just to be sure, but...she’s a strong young woman.”
Buffy’s friends and family cried tears that flown happily, Xander cracked jokes, they all hugged Dawn...the usual relieved reactions. Veronica, though? She wasn’t relieved until she was alone in Buffy’s hospital room later, and saw--and felt--her girlfriend in living color.
She might have cried then.