Red Satin
by Angel Monroe

Disclaimer: I gave my soul to God for the book I'm writing. I have nothing left to barter for Veronica Mars. In other words, unfortunately, I don't own it.

A/N: Season 1, set at the end of the 1.04, The Wrath of Con (the Homecoming episode).

The sand was itchy and warm between his fingers and toes. He'd discarded his socks, his dress shoes, his tie, and the empty bottle of Jose long ago. Now his mind was just floating in and out with the tide as he watched the moon's pulsing reflection on the ocean.

One year ago, they had walked up and down this beach, drinking champagne and laughing together. Lilly and he, they had been perfect back then. Well, not perfect, but good. If he tried really hard, he could still remember the taste of her lipstick. He'd always remember the smell of her perfume.

He wasn't sure why he had just camped out there instead of going to the dance with his friends. Duncan had gone with some sophomore. Dick and Beaver and Sean and Luke were all there, all partying it up with smuggled liquor and loose women. And yet here he was, sitting on the beach and mourning the love of his life.

When he saw the limo pull up down the beach, he thought he was hallucinating. Maybe the ghost of homecomings past was here to haunt him.

And then he saw a familiar blonde jump out and streak towards the water. Her hair was in curls and her dress glowed reddish-purple in blue moonlight. He remembered Lilly once telling him that Veronica was red satin. He'd had no idea what she was talking about, but half the things Lilly said hadn't made sense.

Now, looking at the way she stood in that dress, smiling in the dark and looking over the water, he got it. She was fire. She was pain. She was love and sex and passion and hate all rolled into one tiny girl with one big mouth. Yeah, that was Veronica Mars.

It could have been the tequila talking, but suddenly he saw her drop her dress, the smooth material making a swift, sensual journey down her body. Then, if that wasn't enough to capture his undivided attention, she took a deep breath and dived under the waves.

And her voice popped into his head as if from a dream…

Okay, okay, okay, okay, okay. I've never…gone skinny dipping.

And Lilly's beautiful voice, so clear…

That is just unacceptable. We're gonna have to do something about that, Veronica Mars.

He smiled, watching the little blonde tread water, listening to her light laughter as she fulfilled her own personal tribute to the girl they had all loved.

Lilly was wrong, he thought suddenly. Back then, when Lilly was alive, she hadn't been red satin. She had been something else, something softer. Cotton and wool. Innocence and naïveté It wasn't until she'd been forced to change that she'd become fire and passion.

Under the sudden severance from everyone in the world save her father, Veronica had grown a new skin, leather and iron. It was partly his fault, he knew. He'd been the first to cast her out, opening a floodgate for the rest of the school. But after everything the four of them had shared, after she had ratted him out to Lilly and screwed everything up, standing by the man who'd ruined the Kanes was something he hadn't been able to handle.

It was starting to fade in him—the hate he'd carried so long for her. She was still the Veronica he'd held as a friend for so long, if only a different incarnation. And part of him liked her this way. She was hell on wheels when push came to shove (and it was usually he who shoved first), but that devious little smirk had never been there before. She'd come into her own in Lilly's absence, and even if he couldn't forgive her for all of it, he could start to.

Lying back on the sand, he watched her step out of the ocean and cover what she could with her arms. She hadn't seen him and he was hoping she wouldn't; he didn't want her embarrassment just then. So he closed his eyes and waited for her to slip back into the red satin dress she so embodied.

When he heard the limo pull away, he sat back up and took out another bottle. It would take a hell of a lot to forget that sight.