BtVS/VMars: "Not Quite Queen of the Damned" (1/4)
Title: Not Quite Queen of the Damned (1/4)
Fandoms: Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Veronica Mars
Pairings: , Faith/Vi, Mac/Cassidy, Dick/Kendall, Cassidy/Kendall
Timeline/Spoilers: Post-“Chosen,” with spoilers for all of Buffy. About a month after “Not Pictured,” going AU almost immediately after the end of that episode (or even a little bit before), and with spoilers for seasons one and two only of Veronica Mars.
Warning: I do not provide warnings for story elements other than nonconsensual sex. This story does not contain noncon, but everything else is fair game. Consider yourself warned.
Summary: Faith and Vi hire Keith Mars to investigate the Phoenix Land Trust. Is its business being conducted from beyond the grave?
MEMORIES
Not Quite Queen of the Damned (1/4)
Keith Mars looked over his desk at the two young women who sat in front of him. “So what is it exactly that makes you interested in the Phoenix Land Trust?”
The woman who had introduced herself as Violet answered, “We have sources who believe that it has connections to-” She broke off, obviously unable to think of a suitable lie, and looked to her companion.
“Organized crime?” the woman named Faith offered.
Vi nodded enthusiastically. “Organized crime. We think it might have to do with organized crime, and we want you to find out what is really going on.”
Keith nodded knowingly. He’d found that clients liked it when he nodded knowingly, and that it worked particularly well when he had absolutely no idea what was going on. “Why?”
Vi blinked. “What do you mean?”
“Why do want to find out what it is really going on? Most people would hear ‘organized crime’ and try to get as far away as possible. You’re hiring a private investigator to find out more. Why?”
Vi looked at Faith in panic. Apparently, they hadn’t even considered their own motives might be investigated. Of course, Keith had long ago learned that it was a rare case in which the clients weren’t hiding at least as much as those who were to be investigated. When Faith made no show of noticing her companion’s plight, Vi simply turned back to Keith with a blank look on her face. Apparently, they were going to go with no answer at all. Which was enough of an answer for Keith’s purposes.
“Okay, then,” Keith said. “Five thousand dollars, plus expenses. Are we agreed?”
The two nodded, Vi quite enthusiastically, Faith with a clearly practiced shrug of nonchalance.
“Good. Now that we have that settled, why don’t you tell me the real reason a pair of Vampire Slayers want to find out about Cassidy Casablancas’ company?”
* * *
“I designed this site, you know,” Cindy Mackenzie said as she pulled up the Phoenix Land Trust webpage on her iBook.
“Did you know that you just happened to incorporate a Celestian Circle into the coding?” Vi asked.
Mac paused, unsure how much to confess. “Well, I did throw in a couple of technopagan tricks that I picked up on the internet. Simple stuff, nothing fancy. There’s like six different ways to get around a Celestian Circle, and that’s even without a crescent moon.”
“Well, somebody’s poured a whole lot of supernatural power into your ‘simple tricks,’ because our resident hacker and super-mojoed witch was completely repelled by them.”
“Well, she didn’t have an admin password.” Mac’s finger flew over the keys of her keyboard as a series of asterisks appeared in the password field on her screen. She hit enter.
USER NOT FOUND.
Please retype your password and try again.
”Looks like somebody deleted your admin account,” observed Faith.
Mac nodded, looking somewhat disconcerted. “Well, that’s what back doors are for,” she said, taking time to crack her knuckles. She backspaced the row of asterisks and replaced it with a new, longer password, then hit enter again.
When the Lady’s Moon is new,
Kiss thy hand to Her times two.
”Low-level ward,” Mac explained as she brought her hand to her mouth twice, making a ritual gesture as she did so. She hit Enter when she was finished, and a series of windows popped up. “Wait,” she said, her brow furrowing. “This doesn’t make any sense.” She clicked on the window marked “Recent Business Activity,” bringing up a long list of transactions.
“Wow,” said Faith. “Someone’s certainly been a busy beaver.”
* * *
For more information about the Phoenix Land Trust, Keith reasoned, it made sense to start at the residence of the late founder. That line of reasoning paid off when the Chief Executive Officer just happened to be the one to open the front door of the Casablancas residence--not all that surprising when one figured that she was one of only two residents left.
“Mr. Mars,” Kendall Casablancas, née Priscilla Banks, said in her I’m-pretending-to-be-pleasant-but-not-enough-to-fool-you voice. “What a surprise.”
He stepped into the doorframe. “Can I come in, Kendall?”
“If you must,” she said, letting him in. “Don’t think I’m going to offer you coffee or anything like that. What do you want?”
Keith took a seat in the living room despite not being offered one. “Phoenix Land Trust. Cassidy’s company.”
“My company,” Kendall corrected.
Keith nodded, conceding the point--or, more accurately, letting Kendall think he conceded the point. "What's going on with it? Now that Cassidy's dead, I mean."
Kendall shrugged. “It was a gamble against that incorporation thing, and Cassidy won. The investors got paid or whatever, and I got to keep the rest. Game over.”
Keith nodded. “Except it wasn’t.” In as melodramatic a manner as he could muster, he threw a manila folder containing the results of Mac’s search of the corporation website on the Casablancas’ coffee table. “Five purchases made in the last two weeks, most of it land bordering on cemeteries. Who made these decisions, Kendall? You?”
Kendall pulled herself up. “Why not? I’m not as stupid as you think, you know.”
“Oh, yes, you’re quite the accomplished con artist, Priscilla. But real estate is honest work. Is it your husband?”
Kendall laughed. “I haven’t spoken to ‘my husband’ since he left the country, Keith.”
“Then who?”
“Dick,” she said, staring at Keith, daring him to contradict her. “Little Dick.”
The answer was absurd, of course. Dick Casablancas had difficulty tying his shoes; if he was running the corporation it would already be bankrupt. But the look in her eyes when she recited the lie spoke volumes all by itself. “Be careful, Kendall,” he warned her. “Look long enough into the abyss, and it will look back at you. I wouldn’t raise up what you can’t put down again.”
“Don’t worry, Mr. Mars. Rest assured, I haven’t raised anything.”
Which, to tell the truth, was exactly what he had feared.
TBC. . . . here
Fandoms: Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Veronica Mars
Pairings: , Faith/Vi, Mac/Cassidy, Dick/Kendall, Cassidy/Kendall
Timeline/Spoilers: Post-“Chosen,” with spoilers for all of Buffy. About a month after “Not Pictured,” going AU almost immediately after the end of that episode (or even a little bit before), and with spoilers for seasons one and two only of Veronica Mars.
Warning: I do not provide warnings for story elements other than nonconsensual sex. This story does not contain noncon, but everything else is fair game. Consider yourself warned.
Summary: Faith and Vi hire Keith Mars to investigate the Phoenix Land Trust. Is its business being conducted from beyond the grave?
MEMORIES
Not Quite Queen of the Damned (1/4)
Keith Mars looked over his desk at the two young women who sat in front of him. “So what is it exactly that makes you interested in the Phoenix Land Trust?”
The woman who had introduced herself as Violet answered, “We have sources who believe that it has connections to-” She broke off, obviously unable to think of a suitable lie, and looked to her companion.
“Organized crime?” the woman named Faith offered.
Vi nodded enthusiastically. “Organized crime. We think it might have to do with organized crime, and we want you to find out what is really going on.”
Keith nodded knowingly. He’d found that clients liked it when he nodded knowingly, and that it worked particularly well when he had absolutely no idea what was going on. “Why?”
Vi blinked. “What do you mean?”
“Why do want to find out what it is really going on? Most people would hear ‘organized crime’ and try to get as far away as possible. You’re hiring a private investigator to find out more. Why?”
Vi looked at Faith in panic. Apparently, they hadn’t even considered their own motives might be investigated. Of course, Keith had long ago learned that it was a rare case in which the clients weren’t hiding at least as much as those who were to be investigated. When Faith made no show of noticing her companion’s plight, Vi simply turned back to Keith with a blank look on her face. Apparently, they were going to go with no answer at all. Which was enough of an answer for Keith’s purposes.
“Okay, then,” Keith said. “Five thousand dollars, plus expenses. Are we agreed?”
The two nodded, Vi quite enthusiastically, Faith with a clearly practiced shrug of nonchalance.
“Good. Now that we have that settled, why don’t you tell me the real reason a pair of Vampire Slayers want to find out about Cassidy Casablancas’ company?”
* * *
“I designed this site, you know,” Cindy Mackenzie said as she pulled up the Phoenix Land Trust webpage on her iBook.
“Did you know that you just happened to incorporate a Celestian Circle into the coding?” Vi asked.
Mac paused, unsure how much to confess. “Well, I did throw in a couple of technopagan tricks that I picked up on the internet. Simple stuff, nothing fancy. There’s like six different ways to get around a Celestian Circle, and that’s even without a crescent moon.”
“Well, somebody’s poured a whole lot of supernatural power into your ‘simple tricks,’ because our resident hacker and super-mojoed witch was completely repelled by them.”
“Well, she didn’t have an admin password.” Mac’s finger flew over the keys of her keyboard as a series of asterisks appeared in the password field on her screen. She hit enter.
USER NOT FOUND.
Please retype your password and try again.
”Looks like somebody deleted your admin account,” observed Faith.
Mac nodded, looking somewhat disconcerted. “Well, that’s what back doors are for,” she said, taking time to crack her knuckles. She backspaced the row of asterisks and replaced it with a new, longer password, then hit enter again.
When the Lady’s Moon is new,
Kiss thy hand to Her times two.
”Low-level ward,” Mac explained as she brought her hand to her mouth twice, making a ritual gesture as she did so. She hit Enter when she was finished, and a series of windows popped up. “Wait,” she said, her brow furrowing. “This doesn’t make any sense.” She clicked on the window marked “Recent Business Activity,” bringing up a long list of transactions.
“Wow,” said Faith. “Someone’s certainly been a busy beaver.”
* * *
For more information about the Phoenix Land Trust, Keith reasoned, it made sense to start at the residence of the late founder. That line of reasoning paid off when the Chief Executive Officer just happened to be the one to open the front door of the Casablancas residence--not all that surprising when one figured that she was one of only two residents left.
“Mr. Mars,” Kendall Casablancas, née Priscilla Banks, said in her I’m-pretending-to-be-pleasant-but-not-enough-to-fool-you voice. “What a surprise.”
He stepped into the doorframe. “Can I come in, Kendall?”
“If you must,” she said, letting him in. “Don’t think I’m going to offer you coffee or anything like that. What do you want?”
Keith took a seat in the living room despite not being offered one. “Phoenix Land Trust. Cassidy’s company.”
“My company,” Kendall corrected.
Keith nodded, conceding the point--or, more accurately, letting Kendall think he conceded the point. "What's going on with it? Now that Cassidy's dead, I mean."
Kendall shrugged. “It was a gamble against that incorporation thing, and Cassidy won. The investors got paid or whatever, and I got to keep the rest. Game over.”
Keith nodded. “Except it wasn’t.” In as melodramatic a manner as he could muster, he threw a manila folder containing the results of Mac’s search of the corporation website on the Casablancas’ coffee table. “Five purchases made in the last two weeks, most of it land bordering on cemeteries. Who made these decisions, Kendall? You?”
Kendall pulled herself up. “Why not? I’m not as stupid as you think, you know.”
“Oh, yes, you’re quite the accomplished con artist, Priscilla. But real estate is honest work. Is it your husband?”
Kendall laughed. “I haven’t spoken to ‘my husband’ since he left the country, Keith.”
“Then who?”
“Dick,” she said, staring at Keith, daring him to contradict her. “Little Dick.”
The answer was absurd, of course. Dick Casablancas had difficulty tying his shoes; if he was running the corporation it would already be bankrupt. But the look in her eyes when she recited the lie spoke volumes all by itself. “Be careful, Kendall,” he warned her. “Look long enough into the abyss, and it will look back at you. I wouldn’t raise up what you can’t put down again.”
“Don’t worry, Mr. Mars. Rest assured, I haven’t raised anything.”
Which, to tell the truth, was exactly what he had feared.
TBC. . . . here