Setting: Just after the last 20 seconds Leave It to Beaver or so.
Summary: Veronica’s visitors have an impressive group name.
Notes: Written for hopingitwasyou. I honestly have no idea where this came from. It’s a little strange.
Disclaimer: I don't own this stuff. No cash made, just fun had. I promise I won't break 'em, and I'll put 'em back in the
case when I'm done.
Having just been ripped from the strangest Lily dream yet by a knock-knock-knocking at her apartment door, Veronica Mars looked at the clock.
It read 3:07.
She made her way to the door and opened it. When she saw who it was, she smiled and said, “I was hoping it would be you.”
The elderly English lady smiled, and responded, “I know you were, dear. May we come in?”
Veronica stepped back, and the four women (Three of the four were technically girls, but who was counting) entered the apartment. She invited them to sit down and asked if she could get them anything.
“Actually, Dear,” the spinster segued, “We’d like to offer our congratulations on solving this difficult case.”
The youngest, a curly-headed blonde of about six, injected, “We were really impressed with your investigation.”
“Flossie...” the middle girl, a brunette of about twelve, shushed the younger. “Let Miss Marple talk!”
Flossie pouted a little bit, and then mumbled, “Yes, Nan.”
“While I disapprove of your methods – a lady should never do the leg work, or anything that would put her into danger – I believe that a case could be made for you to join our organization.”
Veronica’s eyebrow went up. “What organization?”
The fourth visitor – A teenaged girl – spoke up. “The Conglomerated Diversity of Ersatz Female Gumshoes, or C. D. E. F .G.. We’re an organization made up of completely fictitious female detectives.”
“Nancy,” Miss Marple scolded. “She doesn’t know that she’s fictional yet.”
Nancy looked surprised. “She doesn’t?”
“I’m not fictional. You guys are...” she indicated the group of four sitting on her couch. “...but I am not.”
“Nan, why don’t they ever believe us when we tell them that?” Flossie asked her big sister out of curiosity.
“I dunno, Flossie. They just don’t.”
Just then, someone knocked at the door. Veronica awoke and sat up in bed.
She looked up at the clock – which read 3:07 – on her way to figure out who was pulling her out of bed at this ungodly hour.
The door opened, and Veronica saw who was standing there.
“I was hoping it would be you.”
Standing at the door was a tall man wearing a tweed cape and a deerstalker hat, a dumpy looking man in a bowler holding a doctor’s bag, a french-looking man who had a twirled handlebar mustache, and two boys about her age.
The tall man asked politely, “Miss Mars, might we come in?”