Disclaimer: I own little. Nothing of Veronica Mars of course. But I do have full control over an old worn out sneaker. Boo-yah!

Feedback: Yes please.

Spoilers: Some vague knowledge from season 1.

The Prince Came A Galloping

Weevil had answered the phone. That had been his sin, he supposed. The instant he had heard her slightly panicked voice he had known, without a doubt that for the rest of the night he was going to be doing one of her infamous favors.

"What do you need V", he barely remembers asking. The answer had been short. Loud talking and louder music had drowned out most of what she had been saying.

So really what was he doing in L.A.? In the worst part of town? Beside a bar even his group would sooner spit on than go inside? Saving the damsel of course.

Weevil just hoped that it would be as quick and easy as possible.

He should have known better.

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So maybe the fishnets had been a bad idea. But hey, how was she supposed to know that a bar called the Sleazy Pigeon was going to really be out in out seedy.

Alright, Veronica Mars wasn't stupid. She suspected that the bar favored a less than wholesome cliental and probably lax cleaning practices. However she was not prepared for the utter filth that walked in and was treaded on in this bar, in this hell-hole, in this place of hell. Was she being repetitive? Fuck yes. But a lets see a lesser person not be after being stuck here for several hours while being fondled by over amorous retards. Where the hell was Weevil?

Then, as fate would have it, Veronica's eyes lit upon the face of her salvation. Weevil, wearing his badass leather jacket, swaggered into the bar. She could see his eyes scanning the place for her, saw them pause but then pass her by. What was he doing? He didn't freakin recognize her? Now she couldn't pretend he was her adoring boyfriend and make a quick escape. Veronica watched him peruse the rest of the bar, watched him shimmy into a bar stool and order a beer. An idea formed quickly inside her head. Pushing off the bearded, drunk, leather clad man currently clinging to her waist she yelled "You bastard, after what you did to me. How dare you show your ass-face here and ignore me."

The entire bar turned to stare at Veronica, Weevil included. Recognition finally registered on his face. She strutted up to him, as her affectionately termed hooker boots allowed her to do no less, and slapped him as hard as she could.

"Ricardo isn't the restraining order enough. Doesn't it register in your booze-addled brain that I don't want to see you anymore", Veronica howled into Weevil's surprised face.

With a questioning look he stood up and started, "Ver..."

Quick to interrupt, Veronica continued screaming "Don't you Veruca me you cheating bastard." By this point her fists were beating on his toned chest and her eyes were tearing. Slightly softer but no less vehement she repeated "Don't you Veruca me."

Veronica tried to at this point to mentally project her plan into Weevil's cranium.

She really just hoped that he wouldn't screw this up.

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Finally understanding the game Weevil clutched at her wrists, effectively ceasing their incessant rhythm upon his chest. Realizing that at this point the bar patrons were either aptly watching the drama unfold or had already returned to their drinks he wasn't completely sure as to what Veronica wanted him to do next.

She seemed to realize this and she collapsed in his arms sobbing out Ricardo's misdeeds and claiming how much she missed the lying cheating asshole. Resisting the urge to roll his eyes Weevil clutched at her shoulders and pulled her slightly away from his body. Looking into Veronica's watery eyes, he understood that this was just her way of getting out of here with as much of her dignity intact and the least amount of resistance from a jerk who may have claimed her for his own.

So he kissed her.

He saw how this drama was unfolding. He knew she had probably meant for him to just, at this point, take her under his arm and guide her out of the bar swearing that he would never see that slut Maria ever again, that he would never cheat on her again, and that he was lost without her.

But he kissed her.

He kissed her.

And she kissed him back. She wrapped her body around his and full on, no holds barred, fucking kissed him back. With her high stiletto boots, her fish net stockings, the shortest miniskirt he's ever seen, a top that had enough material to be classified as a bikini, and a long black wig, she kissed him back.

Weevil couldn't help but pray for God to not send him to hell for living out one of his favorite fantasies. In a public bar. With Veronica, the girl he has had a slight infatuation with ever since she told him to show her his big ol' hog.

Slowly their lips parted, and a seriously dazed Weevil knew that he had to say something. But her soft pants of breath caressing his lips, her slightly swollen and moist mouth, and the reminiscent softness of her lips against his own that still tickled the back of his brain made him silent. The scent of her perfume reminded him of bed sheets and tangled limbs and made him sigh.

However the smell of stale liquor and the rowdy catcalls of drunken felonious bikers, more than likely named Bubba, made him move. Veronica wanted to get out of their and she would. Weevil would save the day in his own Weevil way.

"C'mon chica, my hog's waiting out back." Weevil said while leading Veronica out of the bar. As they stepped out into the fresh air of the night she slowly pulled away from him.

"Thank you" she quietly told him her false tears quickly drying.

Weevil wondered if they weren't going to talk about the kiss. If they were going to ignore it. He wanted to say it was nice. He wanted to tell her she was beautiful. He wanted to see what kind of pajama's she wore.

He wanted to say that he had had a relationship with her dead best friend.

Instead he simply said "You're welcome".

Weevil continued walking towards his bike and she followed. They climbed on together, and she clutched at his back as he sped off. For a second he thought of Lilly and the way she used to hold onto him as they rode. Veronica was different. Softer in different places and without the intent of sex. Just holding. He liked it.

He liked her.

As Weevil dropped her off at her car several blocks later and watched her drive away he wondered if maybe he had imagined the kiss. If maybe this whole night had been a hazy cruel dream.

But he could taste Veronica's lipstick on the corner his mouth chalky and tart.

And that was good enough for now.

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I'm unsure as to whether or not this fic is going to be a standalone or a chaptered epic. Your opinions on this matter would be appreciated.