Title: Acting

Claim: Veronica Mars, Weevil/Veronica

10random prompt on lj: Number 6 on my table, back seat of a car

Rating: R

Disclaimer: I do not own Veronica Mars, it's the property of Rob Thomas.

Spoilers/Warnings: Adult content, sexuality and inappropriate or in this case wholly appropriate language. Contains spoilers for 1.01 The Pilot

Author Notes: This came out of left field and blindsided me.

It was almost easy to act like the two of them barely knew each other, and technically, it was true. They danced, not literally, around each other as if they hadn't seen each other in more intimate situations, situations made less intimate when it was shown how little they knew about each other. It was fun for him to tease her in front of the boys, to blow kisses and murmur about loving her long time. It was easy to tease her about riding his big ole hog because he knew she secretly wanted to, that she secretly craved it. Her blood burned for it just like his blood burned to be a part of her, burned for her blonde hair spilled across his pillows or in their case the cushions of her back seat.

Weevil didn't know where it had started, or even how. He'd gone to Lilly's funeral and she had been there, sitting on the steps of the church but unable to go in. He didn't know to this day, what had possessed him to sit next to her, to ask her if she would be okay. Perhaps it was the fact that Lilly talked to him about her, talked to him about how Veronica would be the perfect girl if she just grew a little backbone, if she just learned how to play the game.

Lilly would be both proud and pissed about the way Veronica was now, if only because it was her boyfriend and brother's mistreatment of her that had caused her to become the woman Lilly had always wanted her to be.

Hell, he was proud of her. She could fight with the best now verbally, even him. And she knew how to get his blood fired up in a way that Lilly never could, one word, one damn head tilt from her and his hardness pulsed against his jeans until he was practically maddened by the scent of her even after she left him.

He headed back to Camelot where he had left her after taunting her with the boys, climbing off his bike he wasn't surprised when she opened the door for him, sitting in the backseat already. "You know V, there is a hotel right there, and I do have a couple extra bucks," He told her, tugging his jacket off as she kissed him firmly on the lips.

"Yes, but in my car I'm less likely to catch diseases from unclean millionaires and their sordid little mistresses," Veronica responded, her hands sliding down his chest to grip the hem of his t-shirt and pulling it upward until he was naked from the waist up. Now all she had to do was get those damn jeans off and they would be in business.

"True," He admitted, his lips ghosting along the soft pale skin of her neck careful not to leave a mark. Weevil had never wanted to be someone's secret again, like he had with Lilly but at the same time he liked Veronica, hell he possibly even loved her and now wasn't the time to bring more heat onto her from the dumbass 09ers at school then there already was. He could bide his time, treat her how he thought she deserved to be treated and maybe one day she would let him in.

It was the same way it always was. It was rushed, passionate and everything he had come to expect from Veronica Mars just this side of actually having sex. There wasn't enough room in the car from that and he didn't know what had happened to her in the past but she wasn't ready to have sex yet. It was enough, to feel her mouth wrapped around him. It was enough to hear her moan his name in pleasure as he took her over the edge again and again with his hands, and maybe one day they would go further. But he would be the one controlling the pace, by that point he would know her personally. He would know her likes, her dislikes, and everything he could about her.

Another night in the backseat was nothing to be ashamed about, especially when it involved a little blonde named Veronica Mars.

Weevil could wait, especially when it came to her. When it came to her, he thought he could wait forever; he could wait for her to stop casting longing glances toward the 09er table. He could wait for her to stop clamming up when he asked her about her latest case, or offered her some help with something she was working on. One day she would answer his questions instead of pulling him into a heated kiss, not that he minded that but he lived for the prospect of more.