Chapter Text
Veronica Sawyer learned to play chess before she learned how to add.
Her father used to say it was about patience. Her mother said it was about outsmarting your opponent.
Veronica decided it was really about seeing the board for what it was and deciding, quietly, what you were willing to sacrifice to win.
She was midway through a game with her dad when the doorbell rang.
“Your move,” her father said, nudging his knight forward with the careful deliberation of a man who enjoyed pretending he wasn’t about to lose.
Veronica frowned at the board. She had him cornered in three moves. Maybe two. She was considering her rook when the bell rang again, louder this time, impatient.
“I’ll get it,” her mother called from the kitchen, already halfway there.
Veronica didn’t look up. “Dad, if you move your bishop there, I swear—”
The front door opened.
“Veronica,” Heather’s voice carried easily through the house, sharp and self-assured as ever. “Your doorbell is like, aggressively old.”
Her mom rolled her eyes and shot her dad an irritated look.
Veronica’s head snapped up.
Heather stood in the kitchen like she owned the place, red scrunchie high, plaid blazer perfectly tailored, expression already manufactured. She took one look at the dining room table, the chessboard between Veronica and her father, and laughed like she always did when she was about to humiliate someone.
“Oh my god,” Heather said. “Is this what you do for fun?”
Veronica felt her mouth twitch before she could stop it.
Her mother leaned against the counter, arms crossed, eyes sweeping Heather from head to toe. “Not the chess type? Go figure” she said mildly, raising her eyebrows at Veronica.
The brunette chuckled.
It slipped out of her, easy and unguarded, and the second it did, she knew she’d made a mistake.
Heather’s gaze snapped to her.
Something in her expression hardened. She stepped further into the room, heels clicking against the tile.
“Excuse me?” Heather said, raising an eyebrow at Veronica. “What does that mean?”
Veronica straightened in her chair. “It doesn’t mean anything. It’s just—”
“It means you think I’m stupid,” Heather said flatly.
Her dad cleared his throat. “Heather—”
“I know what chess is,” Heather went on. “I just think it’s a colossal waste of time.”
Veronica lifted an eyebrow. “Do you even know how to play?”
Heather’s eyes flicked back to the board. To the pieces arranged in neat rows. To Veronica’s queen, sitting smugly at the center of the action.
“No,” Heather said slowly.
Veronica swallowed.
Heather turned fully toward her now, hands on her hips, posture all challenge.
“Well,” she continued, “teach me.”
Her dad blinked. “Teach you?”
“Chess,” Heather said. “Right now.”
Veronica stared at her. “You just said it was a waste of time.”
“It is. And I’m going to beat your ass at it.”
Veronica glanced at her parents. Her father looked amused. Her mother looked annoyed.
Veronica sighed. “Fine.”
Heather smirked.
“Guess that means I’m being dethroned,” her father said, pushing off the wooden chair.
“You already were,” Veronica said absently, gathering the pieces and resetting the board as her parents made their way into the living room.
Heather pulled out the chair across from Veronica and sat, crossing her arms. “Explain it like I’m five.”
Veronica paused. “I’m not doing that.”
“Fine. Explain it like I’m you,” Heather amended.
Veronica rolled her eyes at the jab.
“The goal is checkmate. You put the other king in a position where it can’t escape capture.”
Heather bit her lip.
“So, murder?”
“Strategic murder,” Veronica corrected. “Each piece moves differently.”
She picked up a pawn. “These are pawns. They move forward one square. Two on their first move. They capture diagonally.”
Heather leaned forward slightly, watching Veronica’s fingers as she demonstrated. “They’re expendable.”
“Yes,” Veronica said. “But dangerous if you ignore them.”
Heather hummed. “Got it.”
Veronica moved on. “Rooks go straight lines. Bishops diagonally. Knights—”
“The horse thing,” Heather said. “Weird L-shape.”
Veronica smiled despite herself. “Yes.”
She picked up the queen. “This is the most powerful piece. The queen. She can move in any direction.”
Heather’s eyes flicked up to Veronica’s, “How very.”
Veronica felt a strange heat creep up her neck and focused her attention back on the board. “Uh.. the king. The king is really the point of everything. If you lose him, you lose the game.”
Heather tilted her head, eyes still locked on Veronica. “So, you basically sacrifice everyone else for him.”
“Sometimes,” Veronica said. “Or sometimes you let him walk into danger. Sometimes that’s the only way you can win.”
Heather pushed her tongue to her cheek, like she wanted to say something, but stopped herself.
Veronica couldn’t help but notice, and for some reason, at that exact moment, her mind went to JD.
As they went on, Veronica found herself falling into the rhythm of teaching. Heather asked good questions, not dumb ones, not careless ones. She interrupted, argued, tested boundaries.
“So why wouldn’t I just immediately go for your queen?” Heather demanded.
“Because then I’ll take yours,” Veronica said. “And you’ll have exposed yourself.”
Heather scoffed. “Please.”
Veronica looked up at her. “Try it.”
Heather did, immediately frowning when Veronica countered without hesitation.
“Oh,” Heather muttered.
Veronica watched her chew on her lip, frustration blooming. She shouldn’t have noticed. She also shouldn’t have noticed how close Heather was leaning now, how easy it would be for her to reach across the table and—
Veronica snapped out of it when their knees brushed under the table.
Neither of them moved away.
Neither of them said anything.
By the time they had started an actual game, Heather had a handle on the basics. She played like she did everything else; fast, confrontational, daring someone to stop her.
Veronica liked it.
She’d never admit that to the blonde, however.
Halfway through, Heather’s confidence surged.
“I got you,” Heather said, leaning back. “You’re boxed in.”
Veronica studied the board. Heather had overextended, gone for spectacle over strategy.
“Are you sure?” Veronica asked.
Heather smirked. “Say goodbye to your queen.”
She moved.
Veronica waited exactly one beat before responding.
“Checkmate.”
Heather froze.
“No,” she said immediately. “No, that’s— wait.”
She leaned forward, scanning the board. Her face twisted as realization set in.
“That’s bullshit.”
Veronica smiled, “That’s chess.”
Heather’s brow furrowed, frustrated eyes locked in on Veronica. “You tricked me.”
“I taught you,” Veronica said, meeting her gaze and shrugging.
Heather looked at her then, really looked at her. There was something in her eyes, sour and bright all at once. Annoyed. But…proud. Just a little.
Veronica’s gaze dropped without permission.
To Heather’s mouth. Still moving, still complaining.
Too long.
They lingered too long.
Heather’s lips stopped moving.
“What?” she said.
Veronica snapped her eyes back up. “What?”
“You were looking at me weird.”
Veronica cleared her throat. “Do you want to play again or not?”
Heather’s smile was sharp. Victorious, somehow, despite losing. “Obviously.”
She reached for the pieces, already resetting the board.
Veronica made the first move.
Pawn to D4.
The Queen’s Gambit.