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Story Notes:
This story is loosely based on spoilers I found out about at the start of the season. It started out as a joke I told Vaya about Miss Schecter's passive aggressiveness and constant yearning for attention, and she explained to me that I had to turn it into a fanfic. I started writing it that same night (at some point in January, I'm just really slow when it comes to writing). So this is for you, Vaya.

Disclaimer: I LOVE JENNY SCHECTER, but I don't own her, and I mean no disrespect with this story. No copyright infringement is intended, and no one's paying me to write this.
It had all started as an idea for a new story. That was usually how things happened, the thoughts that she somehow ended up acting on, even if she hadn’t meant to. When she thought about it now, it seemed to have begun when she lost her girlfriend after she found out how she had hidden a letter from her in the attic. Jennifer Schecter did not take lightly to being abandoned like that.

None of her, or rather, Shane’s friends, as that was what they seemed to be after their break-up, really cared about her at all. In fact, she was quite sure they all hated her. Just because Alice had somehow gotten the idea that Jenny had stolen her screenplay, because Bette had cheated on Tina with the Jessie Spano lookalike and Jenny had caught her, because Tina thought she stole the negative of her own movie, because Max had gotten pregnant and Jenny had found it hilarious, because she did hide that letter from Shane, read her text-messages, took over her room… She didn’t think any of those things gave them any kind of reason to be mad at her. Not really.

Her idea had been nothing but an amusing little thing for her to play with in her mind at first, when she felt abandoned and shut out by her so called friends. She’d never meant for it to get out of hand the way it did, and she probably shouldn’t have acted on it, but she had. It started out as a story, and it started because of another. If Alice hadn’t tried to write her treatment, Jenny would never have had the opportunity to get inspired by it and to eventually write her own treatment that she’d sold for five hundred thousand dollars. Five hundred thousand dollars that helped her pay for the most amazing and thoroughly thought out plot she’d ever plan in her life.

It was an exhilarating feeling, realizing what money could buy you. And most people were pretty cheap. She’d staged the whole scene with such finesse and she’d been quite pleased with herself, but in all honesty, it wasn’t that difficult when you had the amount of Hollywood connections that Jennifer Schecter had. She’d used what was left of the money from her lesbian cop screenplay after she’d bought Shane her own photo studio to get all the help she could possibly need to set up the assumed drowning in Bette’s pool – cops, paramedics, investigators… they’d all been actors on Jenny’s payroll and none of her friends had any idea of what was really happening.

As the fake paramedics had rolled the gurney into Bette’s living room with her on it, lying there still for all of them to see, she hadn’t been able to keep from smiling just a little at how easy it all had been. Jenny knew this wasn’t how things were usually done, but from all the research she’d done for her screenplay she still had some idea of what facts she could tinker with to fool everyone. She lay there as close to motionless as she possibly could, and listened as all of them; Bette, Tina, Alice, Helena, Kit, Max and finally Shane were questioned by ‘Sergeant Duffy’. She’d found it more than a little strange and incredibly amusing that none of them had realized that the woman was in fact her good friend Lucy Lawless.

Shane’s voice quivered when she tried to explain how she’d found Jenny in the pool and pulled her out of there with some help from Bette as Tina was about to call 911. She didn’t have to; before she hit the dial button on her cell phone they heard the sirens and cops came up to them explaining that someone had called for help saying someone was attacking her and that she’d fallen into a pool while trying to get away from them. They’d all looked down into the pool and found Jenny’s phone floating there, and one of the crime scene investigators had quickly picked it up and bagged it. At the time when Shane had found her, she was still alive according to Shane, but after the ambulance showed up at the house they had all been informed that her heart had stopped and they hadn’t been able to revive her.

She’d paid for the coffin beforehand, even changed the will she’d written a few years back to remove Shane’s name from it, specified that she wanted all her money transferred to a Swiss bank account – because that sounded just interesting enough to her – and that she, at her funeral, preferred a closed casket and did not under any circumstances want to be cremated. It would have been nice to have an open one so she could see each and every one of their faces as they mourned the loss of the friend they’d all treated so badly, but she’d had to cross that idea out since lying perfectly still for that amount of time was not something Jennifer Schecter was good at, even she would admit that. Last but not least, she wanted fresh flowers on her grave at least three times every week and she preferred lilies, her favourite flower of the week she’d written the will. What kind of flower it was didn’t really matter though, what she cared about was getting to see someone dragging their ass down to the cemetery over and over again to make sure she got what she wanted, because they wouldn’t ignore her last wish, now, would they? The possibility that they might made her a little uncomfortable, and that was when another strange idea started to form in Jenny Schecter’s pretty little head.

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