A/N: phew! time for the long-awaited Velma Kelly story! I hope you like it, because I know it was highly anticipated!

---------------Velma-----------------------

My sister Veronica and I had this double act, and my husband Charlie traveled around with us. Now for the last number in our act we did these 20 acrobatic tricks in a row: one, two, three, four, five, splits, spread-eagles, back-flips, flip-flops, one right after the other. So this one night before the show we're at the hotel Cicero, the three of us boozin', having a few laughs, and we ran out of ice, so I run out to get some. I come back, open the door, and there's Veronica and Charlie doing number 17, the spread-eagle. Well, I was in such a state of shock that I completely blacked out; I can't remember a thing. It wasn't until later, when I was washing the blood off my hands, I even knew they were dead.

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When one is in the sort of business I'm in, it's sort of hard to settle down with a guy. It's like you never know what it is they're after. Do they really like YOU, or ... well, y'know, something else. It's like always chasing a false dream.

Anyway, my sister Veronica is sort of the more wild one out of the two of us. I swear, she brought home a different man every night. But that's not the kind of relationship I was looking for.

No, I wanted more. I wanted someone who actually loved me. ME, not just my body. I don't see how people can live like that .... just meeting someone and thinking you guess they're sort of neat, and then, WHAM! The next thing you know, all they want is your body. They don't even care what you're like.

That's not what I wanted. I wanted commitment (something my sister has always laughed at). She told me I'd never find a husband, and that got me so angry that I was even more determined to get married.

So boy did I get her. I found this swell guy who worked at a speak easy down town. His name was Charlie Fenton. He said I was a good dancer, and he didn't have that eerie glint in his eye that most guys have. I smiled, and he laughed.

By next week he had asked me out for dinner. Needless to say, I accepted and rubbed it in my sister's face. She muttered something about me regretting something, but I just laughed at her and walked out the door for my date.

I couldn't believe it. I had actually met a gentlemen. We had a lovely time at dinner, and boy did Veronica steam when I told her all about it!

He took me to this fancy place, you know, where the font on the menu is so curly and elegant that you can barely read it. Charlie ended up ordering for both of us, and I barely even took note of what I was eating while we talked.

I've never had such an easy time talking to a man before. Normally it's all awkward and quiet, and you're waiting for the inevitable, but our list of things to talk about never seemed to end.

We started off with a discussion about the political scheme of things nowadays, D. W. Griffith, that ridiculous Prohibition Act, whether we liked Lillian Gish or Mary Pickford better, and eventually he came to ask me why I did what I did.

"What do you mean?" I asked, taking a long sip of champagne.

"I mean ....why do you .... dance in those sleazy costumes in sleazy speak-easies, getting guys all excited?"

"Oh," I sighed, rubbing my forehead. "I dunno. I can't really do anything else. Veronica and I don't really have any family besides each other, and it was the only thing it seemed we could do."

"You'd make a very nice secretary," Charlie said, grinning at me. "It's basically a requirement that you be lovely, and you, my dear, would fit that description perfectly."

"You flatter me," I laughed. "But it's funny you should mention it--I actually did consider being a secretary at one time. But my typing is atrocious. About ten words a minute. No exaggerating."

"Really? Well squelch that idea," he chuckled.

"Yeah," I giggled. "So this friend of my sister's told us we ought to work at the place he sells drinks. So we sort of started out as waitresses, but then one night he saw me dancing on the stage .... the place was empty--or so I had thought--and so I just started to do a little bit of Charleston, y'know?

"Then I realized he had been watching me. So I quickly stopped, but then he asked me to go on. So, I did. Then Veronica ran up there with me, and we just kept on dancing."

"Where'd you learn how to dance?" Charlie asked.

"We used to take lessons," I replied. "My mother was determined that we do something honorable in our lives, and she thought a dancer was as good as a woman could get." I laughed sourly, thinking of the irony. "I guess the joke's on her, though ..."

There was silence for just a moment, as both of us waited for the other to speak. Charlie inhaled deeply, then said, "Thanks for coming."

"Thanks for inviting me."

"Do it again sometime?"

"Sure."

----

Anyway, I was glad things were coming along so well with him. Veronica seemed to be jealous, and she was very distant. She had never seemed to mind all those other men, before, though .... perhaps she just wanted me to be unhappy. But what kind of sister would want that?

So lately, she'd been doing more of the rub-your-torso-in-every-man's-face and I had been singing and dancing alone. My smiles were no long fake, but I just thought of Charlie and that would always make me happier.

Until that one night.

Well, first I should tell you that Charlie and I got married. For the sake of my stage name, I kept the last name Kelly, but it was still official. So now he traveled around with us, tagging along, and I was almost never without him.

Life seemed pretty perfect--which is always a sign that something will very soon go very wrong.

The three of us had been busy all day. Charlie checking all the hotels, and Veronica and I performing like dogs. I'd never worked so hard in my life, it seemed. All I wanted was to flop down in a bed and relax.

Charlie drove up to the bar, and we were waiting outside for him. He got out, and then walked over to me and kissed me. "Hello, beautiful."

"Hiya, hon," I laughed. "You get us a good hotel?"

"Yeah, it's swell," he answered, ushering Veronica and I into the car. "It's called Cicero. Seems great."

"What a relief," Veronica sighed from the back seat. She took of her shoe and stretched her thing leg up between Charlie and I. We both glanced at it, then she said, "I am SO tired."

"I hear that," I said, tapping her leg lightly. She pulled back, and I saw her scowl slightly in the rear view mirror. I frowned, wondering what her problem was.

Once we had gotten checked in, Veronica waltzed into our room with a few bottles of alchohol. "Whoops, am I interrupting something?" she giggled.

Charlie, who had been kissing me just moments before, laughed. "Naw, come on in."

I grimaced, annoyed by the interruption, but didn't say anything. Veronica skipped in, and got a few glasses out of the bathroom.

"You two up for a drink?" she asked.

"Sure," I responded. "I could use one."

"Yeah, okay," Charlie agreed.

So she poured some for all of us, and for the first time, one glass just didn't seem enough for me. I asked for another, and so did Charlie.

We began to have along talk, joking about this and that. How much longer would we remain in our jobs, what would Charlie Chaplin do next, and yadda yadda.

"Oh dear, we're out of ice," Veronica said in a slurred tone. "Sorry, I was just gonna get you another drink, Velms."

"I'll get some more," I volunteered. I stood up and headed for the door. Laughing stupidly as I walked out, I said, "You kids be good while I'm gone!"

Smiling to myself, I went to get some more ice. Then I came back, and I froze in the doorway at what I saw:

Well, actually, it was pretty graphic. All I knew, though, was that Veronica and Charlie were definately making some rough love. They didn't even seem to notice I was there. I dropped the ice on the floor, and it swished around--they didn't hear it.

Veronica kept on giggling, and Charlie would chuckle occasionally. Biting my lip, I walked over to my husband's suitcase. Sure, they were drunk, but I didn't even stop to think about it.

Before I knew what I was doing, I had a gun in my hands. And with two quick shots, they lay in a bloody heap on the bed. I stared at them, then at the weapon in my hands. I quickly dropped it.

Angrily, I walked over to the bed and pulled Charlie's head out from between my sister's legs. I kicked him onto the floor, then punched my sister several times in the head. I was crying with anger, screaming wordlessly. Blood was getting all over me, but I didn't care.

Suddenly I remembered: I had a show to put on tonight. That is, WE had a show to put on. Veronica would never stand on stage again, and it slowly dawned on me what I had done.

'They deserved it,' I thought to myself. I distractedly ran my hands under the water of the sink in the bathroom, not doing a thorough job. Then I ran out into the hallway, my fists buried deep in the pockets of my coat. I bumped into a couple people in the hall, tears still streaming down my face.

"What happened?!" a man asked. "I heard gunshots and screams coming from downstairs!"

"It's terrible!" I cried hysterically. "My husband and my sister--both dead! Somebody shot them, but I don't know who! I've got to get to the police!"

Then I continued to run away, hoping he had believed my lie. I flew down the steps and outside. I managed to wave down a taxi, and calmed down a bit on the ride. I wiped the tears hastily off my face. No one must no what had happened. At least, not until I had done tonight's performance.

I got out of the cab, gave the driver a quarter and a muttered "Thanks", then stalked towards the building. On my way, I angrily ripped a poster bearing mine and Veronica's name on it. That name sickens me .... but it couldn't get in the way of what I had to do tonight.

Sister or no sister, the show must go on.

--------Author's Note-------

Yeah, I know, I sort of stopped showing the husband's point of view...but it was hard with Charlie. I'll probably do it in the last chapter. Don't worry. I hope this was okay! Please be a good soul and review!!