AN: For anyone who hasn't read the books, animating in this context does not mean cartoonist. It means someone who can raise the dead. Anita does so for a living, raising zombies for will disputes, family secrets, etc. Along with the occasional more intense reason.

x

Veronica had a sudden disconcerting moment of agreeing with Logan that their house was too small as she contemplated the imminent invasion of six leopards. They'd fought long and hard before settling on this technically two story house in a suburb on the outskirts of St. Louis. It had two master bedrooms—one for her and Logan, and one set aside for her dad and Alicia, or Wallace, when they came to visit. The third bedroom was a more generic guest room, one the realtor had hinted would make a perfect nursery until Veronica's glare scared her silent.

The kitchen was well suited for hosting, with two ovens, a six burner stovetop, and two double sinks, one of which was in the kitchen island. Logan had taken over decor for the large sunken living room, which opened onto the back patio and impressive yard with, so far, undeveloped land beyond it. It had a variety of closets, a laundry room, and what was supposed to be an additional pantry they thought, but Veronica had claimed as a dark room.

The attic slash second story was Veronica's domain, reserved for her spacious home office and boxes of things from high school and college she didn't want to display but didn't want to get rid of. Thanks to the Echolls mansion burning down, Logan didn't have such readily available memory fodder, but he was the one responsible for most of the books on the shelves littering the walls of the house, along with the few pieces of art, most inherited from his maternal grandparents. His territory was the basement: half office and half gym.

It all felt like unparalleled luxury to Veronica, but that was before their little family unexpectedly grew. Now she was wondering how hard it would be to knock out some walls and build on more rooms. Or maybe just one large room, given shifter dynamics.

She took a deep breath, maturely decided to not mention her thoughts to Logan and thus postpone his inevitable "I told you so", and headed for the front door. She still had four hours until movie night, her infamous snickerdoodles were cooling on several racks, and she had a coffee date with Anita.

The murder she would keep private from her friend, the other life details she would not, perhaps especially given Anita's work. She knew Anita rarely dealt with shifter cases, mostly helping RPIT out on vampire related issues, but it was still a good idea for the most significant consultant to the city's preternatural unit to know that there was someone they should call if something came up involving leopards. Particularly if that call needed to be off the record.

And Anita was her friend, and Veronica had gotten better at sharing things with her friends over the years. Had gotten better at wanting to share things with her friends. And at knowing the difference between secrets that needed to be kept, and secrets that only hurt her.

Anita beat her to the cafe and Veronica joined her as soon as she'd ordered, her friend making a face at the large pastry Veronica had gotten with her coffee.

"Are you sure your boyfriend hasn't infected you? Because I swear you are not physically large enough to hold all the food you eat."

Veronica laughed. "It's a mystery for the ages, and it definitely predates Logan's change. The doctors insist there's no tapeworm. Wallace and my dad think I have a literal hollow leg, or maybe a second stomach."

Anita snorted and Veronica decided to use it as the opening to what she really wanted to talk about. "What do you know about shifter group dynamics?"

"Not much," Anita said with a frown. "I can tell you more about the virus and contagion rates. I have exactly one werewolf contact, and he's in the closet." She raised an eyebrow, looking at Veronica with an edge of suspicion.

"Why are you asking me and not the boytoy? Keeping secrets?"

"Not from him," Veronica said with the smile of an angel. "Just curious. Logan is assuming a more dominant role in the pard than we expected. Should make our lives interesting for the foreseeable future."

Anita had wide eyes and tight lines around her mouth, but she snorted at Veronica's last words. "I didn't think you were lacking in that department."

"Pot, kettle," Veronica said with a chin jut and Anita laughed.

"Yeah, well, this is why I don't date. I like to keep the interesting to myself."

"Yes, that's why," Veronica said dryly, but accepted Anita's glare as her due and chose not to pursue that topic further. "Keep an eye out for me? If anything involving leopards crops up with your consult work?"

Anita gave her a hard look and Veronica raised her hands, palms up. "Not asking you to hide things or risk your job. Just keep a girl in the loop."

Her friend cracked a wry smile. "Fair enough." Anita studied her face for a moment. "You don't look too freaked out. How are you really doing?"

Veronica waggled a hand in the air in the universal so-so gesture. "I'm in crisis management mode, so calm is easy. Ask me after we've been doing this a few weeks

Her lips were pursed with what Veronica interpreted as concern and curiosity, but Anita nodded and didn't press any further. Instead her eyes darted down to Veronica's throat, where the bruises from Elizabeth's attack were still visible. Even liberal application of Mac's cream couldn't get rid of such deep injuries in less than 24 hours.

"Interesting case? Or do I need to figure out if I should be concerned about your...personal life?" Anita asked, hesitation in her voice at the last few words.

Veronica laughed. "You can say the word sex, Anita. Or even kink. It won't hurt, I promise."

Her friend just glowered at her and Veronica grinned, then shook her head. "Interesting case. But she got what she deserved." Or so she hoped, anyways. It would be best for all of them if Elizabeth kept her head down and adapted to the new status quo. Even if the angry, vindictive side of Veronica wanted her to get a more thorough comeuppance.

"I'm glad you're one of my law abiding friends, so I don't have to worry about seeing this 'she' the next time Dolph calls," Anita said with a genuine grin and the barest hint of caution in her voice.

Veronica smiled, just as genuine, no trace of hesitation or guilt over the murder she'd actively covered up the day before. "Nah. My dad would have pointed words for me if I started getting violent with every asshole I encountered on the job. Namely that he was right and I should have gone to law school where I could murder people with paperwork instead."

Anita snorted and Veronica redirected the conversation to a discussion of least-favorite clients and cases as she finished her pastry and ordered another, much to her friend's only partially feigned horror.

During the whole conversation, the back of her mind was ticking away, contemplating secrets and identities and what it would take for Anita to break the rules. Her friend had never struck her as the perfectly law abiding type, and, with her abilities, a conflict with the law seemed inevitable at some point.

Progress was being made, ever so slowly, but most of the laws in favor of expanding legal rights for preternaturals were focused on vampires, who had money and the press on their side. Shifters, witches, and more esoteric folk, like animators, had a lot less leverage to protect themselves, and a lot more people assuming the worst about them.

Her personal desire to watch Aaron Echolls fry aside, Veronica had never been quite sure where she stood on the death penalty. But an automatic death sentence for killing someone with magic seemed extreme. People under duress used whatever weapons they had on hand, and treating someone like a rabid dog to be put down because they used their innate abilities instead of a frying pan or a gun didn't sit right with her.

She certainly wouldn't turn in Mac or Anita if either of them had to use their magic to defend themselves.

And until the law wasn't more likely to kill them or stick them in an abusive halfway house than help, people like Nathaniel and the rest of the pard wouldn't have any recourse other than violence when victimized by someone like Gabriel.

Her lips twisted, hidden behind her coffee cup. She might have done more good if she went into politics instead of law. But she knew Lamb was the pettiest and smallest form of corruption out there, an ant compared to the filth she would have had to deal with if she started rubbing shoulders with people like Woody Goodman. Someone else would have to fight those battles. Her and Logan were best suited to what they were doing now, righting one wrong at a time and saving who they could along the way.

Anita had to go to the office for a client meeting and Veronica headed home. Developing her latest roll of film should keep her occupied for the next couple hours, and her mind from obsessing over the evening's activities.

By the time she emerged from the darkroom, blinking at the far too bright light in the hallway, the obscene amounts of pizza they'd ordered had arrived and Logan was laying out the boxes in the living room. Veronica looked down at the box he'd just opened and wrinkled her nose; Logan just grinned at her.

"Now, now, sugarpuss. If we're going to judge our new charges, let's do it for things like violently assaulting us and not their taste in pizza toppings."

Veronica snorted, then shook her head. "I understand what you're saying, snookums, but honestly I think liking anchovies should be considered some sort of crime."

"Says the girl who eats pineapple on her pizza," Logan drawled, his gaze flicking over to the three boxes of Hawaiian and then back to her.

She stuck her tongue out at him. "Heathen."

He laughed, loud and genuine instead of his usual sarcastic chuckle. "Takes one to know one, Mars."

Veronica shrugged, unable to argue. She didn't think any iteration of her, not even the yellow cotton one that Lilly had bemoaned so often, would have qualified as anything else. As for who she was now, somewhere between red satin and black leather, heathen was probably the least of it.

The pard arrived in straggling clumps. Nathaniel and Gregory first, then Vivian and Cherry with Zane on their heels, and finally Elizabeth, slinking in with a mixture of defiance and wary fear. After some hesitant small talk and cautious body language, Zane led the charge and the truly ridiculous amounts of pizza were consumed down to the last crust. Once the carnage was complete, Nathaniel offered to take the boxes to the curb, helped by an insistent Logan.

When they returned, the pard started in on the snickerdoodles with joyful abandon. Veronica basked in their praise, shooting Logan smug looks as the trays emptied one by one.

The first significant snag in the evening came with the movie choice. Well fed and set up with whatever drinks they preferred, most of the pard felt comfortable enough to express their opinions. Loud, aggressive, and foul-mouthed opinions. Veronica wasn't sure if she wanted to laugh, or kick them all out of her house so she could catch up on The Americans.

Cherry liked action movies, Zane loudly agreed but his eyes lingered too long on the stack of Disney and Pixar dvds for Veronica to believe him. Gregory liked musicals, Vivian seemed interested in Veronica's impressive noir collection, and Nathaniel said nothing but stared intently at the small pile of romance movies that had all been gifts from Lilly. Elizabeth expressed no preference, but scoffed pointedly at everyone else's suggestions.

Finally, in a fit of frustration, Zane reached out a long arm and grabbed a random case off one of the shelves. "Here! Let's watch…" he trailed off, looking down at the bright pink case, as Cherry started to snicker.

"That's a fine choice," Logan said, his tone perfectly normal as he leaned forward and plucked it out of Zane's hands before anyone else could comment. "Legally Blonde is a classic." He shot a sly glance at Veronica as he opened the case and placed the disc in the dvd player. "I have a thing for stubborn, competent blondes."

Veronica rolled her eyes, but didn't argue. She, too, had a soft spot for Elle Woods, even if she would never admit it to anyone but Logan.

"For future movie nights, I say we set up an anonymous suggestion box and a blind draw," she said in a dry tone, her gaze moving around the room as the pard members settled into their spots. Cherry, Zane, Vivian, Gregory, and Nathaniel all managed to squeeze themselves onto one long couch, a tangle of limbs that did not look at all comfortable to Veronica but they seemed perfectly content with. Elizabeth perched herself on the farthest end of the couch Veronica had chosen, her body language stiff and unwelcoming.

"Yes, please," Vivian said, her tone more than a little arch. Veronica grinned at her, glad to see the quietest member of the pard besides Nathaniel starting to open up.

Logan plopped down next to Veronica, remote in one hand, and smirked. "Channeling your pep squad days, dearest? I knew you and Elle would be the best of the friends."

He grunted as Veronica slapped his chest, pretending it hurt until she huffed and curled herself into his side. "Start the movie, dearest. It's movie night, not wannabe comedian hour."

Logan obeyed as a chorus of muted chuckles echoed from the other couch and Veronica allowed herself a smug smile. Killing their abusive former leader, check. Pard bonding night and increasing their comfort and trust with her and Logan, check. They were kicking ass at this parenting thing. And she was so their favorite.

Her contentment lasted for about twenty minutes. She'd seen the movie too many times to be sucked into the story, and she couldn't ignore the one sour face in the room.

Veronica wasn't used to spending extended time with someone who had tried to kill her. Or, at least not knowingly and willingly. She hadn't known what Cassidy had done, and not a single second spent in Aaron Echolls' presence after he locked her in the freezer had been by choice. So sitting two couch cushions down from Elizabeth, while her throat was still sore from the other woman's chokehold, was a new and not particularly welcome experience.

The only consolation was that Logan's rage ran far deeper than hers. He'd positioned himself between them, and Veronica could feel the tension in the arm he had around her despite his best efforts to pretend like nothing was wrong.

She snorted to herself and ignored Logan's glance, pretending she was engrossed in the saga of Elle's application video. Frankly, she should be grateful to the other woman. Veronica had never been one to accept happy circumstances at face value, and at least she had a very specific name and face to put to the dark cloud in their horizon. Now they just needed the scoop on Raina and she could get back to her properly pessimistic self.