The Last Honey Trap


When she took the job with Veronica she always knew it would be like high school and Hearst all over again.

Stale donut stake outs, using her Mac magic to pull personal, private files. She did not think she would be routinely trying to get men to cheat on their wives.

Honey trap Mac.

That's what Veronica and Wallace had started calling her when they thought she couldn't hear them.

"I don't like this Veronica. Can't we hire someone to do this kind of thing?"

No and stop talking into your cleavage, people are starting to look.

Veronica's voice came in loud and disdainfully clear. She was in one of the hotel rooms monitoring her. She would, a hundred percent, prefer to be up there with her eating red vines and watching the unfortunate drama play out on her laptop.

Like the good old days...back before she had become some sort of mid-life crisis magnet.

She sat alone at the bar, nursed her cocktail and waited, waited for the target to hit on her, hopefully. She hated initiating contact, it made her feel like a streetwalker.

It was ridiculous, she sat there in a black silk dress that screamed temptation. As far as she was concerned she might as well have written This is a trap on her body, in chocolate sauce, and been less obvious .The dress was cut so it hung open in the back, a low, wide cut, and she was fairly certain that the only things keeping this dress on were the sleeves and her willpower.

She crossed and uncrossed her legs, going slow, and sweeping her eyes across the room.

Someone sat in the seat beside her. She turns to see just how much she is going to hold this over Veronica for. How long she'll be bringing up that creepy, old guy, with no hair, to win arguments.

She almost drops her glass.

She is winning every argument for the rest of their lives. She is going to hold this over Veronica's head until her deathbed.

"No." She whispers as the man looks at her.

I'm sorry

"Mac?" Dick's voice is surprised. He leans back in the stool and looks up the back of her, as if confirming that the front and back of her were actually the same person and not an optical illusion, before smiling brightly at her, "Buy me a drink?"

"Why would I buy you a drink?"

He's getting this all wrong, he's supposed to buy her a drink. That was how this shit worked. He buys her enough drinks to make him feel like he could score and then try and take her to his room.

"Because you look like your here to get fucked and I'm the only one here under 40." She wants to wipe that smirk off his face, but there's a voice in her ear that tells her to buy him a drink.

She grits her teeth and buys him a drink.

Scotch, more expensive than the absurd dress she was wearing and hopes to God her credit card holds out long enough to get paid.

Whenever the hell that was going to happen again. She hasn't lived paycheck to paycheck since right after college and she found it didn't suit her at all.

Veronica was used to this. All the money she had had in New York went to good, rent and her student loan.

She hadn't lived that way in years, but she had nothing but burnt bridges behind her so she slides her leg over the other until the toe of her heel is resting against the back of Dick's leg.

"What are you even doing here, Mackenzie?" Dick asks setting his hot hand on her knee, the silk slides eagerly away from his hand as he slides it up towards her lap.

He doesn't care why she's here as long as this conversation ends with them in a bed, or against a wall or the floor of the elevator, or the bathroom counter. He didn't seem picky as long as it ended with him inside her.

She feeds him the line about breaking up with her boyfriend that she always used. That he had cheated on her and Veronica had convinced her to go out and let herself get hit on tonight to feel better.

They usually shamed the fictional Tom, telling her how wrong he was and how amazing she looked, how they would never cheat on her.

Dick, however, just smirks, "Still can't keep them interested, huh Ghost World," he slips his hand down between her legs and she forces herself to relax, she wants him to want to take her to his place, "I can show you some things if you want... So you can keep the next one."

He's the first one that doesn't imply that the next one would be him and she finds it refreshing. She leans forward, letting her legs part a little for him, and sets her glass on the bar. She wants to whisper into his ear all the things she knows that helps her 'keep' them, about that thing she can do with her tongue, or the fact that her last 'boyfriend' had been named Stephanie, and that she knew things after all these years that would make him shiver with pleasure for days.

She ops for the answer that isn't going to get her an earful of Veronica.

"I could show you what I can do..." She lets her mouth graze his ear as she whispers and his fingers dig into her leg.

She wonders if he was trying to fake her out because he doesn't say anything for a long time and then he gets up from his spot, throwing down some bills onto the bar before he grabs her hand and leads her out of the bar.

Had he forgotten that the drinks were on her? She decides not to say anything. She's poor, she could use a free drink.

He opens the passenger door of his sports car for her and she slips in completely unworried that she flashes Dick, rather a lot of leg as she does so.

He jumps into his own seat and sends them speeding away from civilization.

He puts his hand on her leg again, his thumb rubbing against her skin as he slips his hand up her dress.

"The dress is nice." He tells her, not taking his eyes off the road. He's watching the road with such intense focus she's half afraid he's going to set it on fire. The part of her that isn't occupied with the fact that Dick's hand is slipping between her legs and is on its way to a very private and very unguarded area, that is.

The dress didn't really allow for underwear, it dipped too low for anything that would show a line.

"It's okay."

"What's wrong with it?" By the sound of his voice, low and heavy, it sounds like he thinks she should wear it all the time, everywhere.

"It's not very comfortable." She replies honestly, sure that it'll get her some sort of vulgar response about how she should take it off.

He says nothing, just grips her thigh a little tighter, so she baits him.

"The best part of this dress is taking it off."

That's a lie. It's awful. She has to have Veronica help and the fact that she is a hundred percent naked underneath, and neither of them wants to have her see that, makes the entire thing an ordeal.

Dick, however, makes a low noise in the back of his throat and pulls sharply off the road.

He undoes his seat belt and then hers.

"Dick... I was just-" his mouth is on hers before she can tell him she's joking, before she can get out that this is a set up and she has sleeping pills in her purse that were going to make their way into his drink once they got back to his place; that he'd wake up in his bed alone and unsure if last night had just been a 'too drunk to remember the good stuff' kind of night.

He kisses her like he needs her, and his hand finally makes it up her leg to its goal and he moans into her as his fingers come into contact with her wet skin.

He breaks from her mouth in time to enjoy the moan that falls from her.

Okay Dick, Dick is very good at this. The kiss and the feel of his mouth on her neck and his fingers trying desperately to get inside, rubbing her, is fucking amazing.

It pushes all thoughts of her mission out and replaces it with thoughts about how soft his hair is, how hot and wonderful his skin is, and how if she lifts a little and widens her legs like...

He slips his fingers eagerly into her and this time she doesn't try to bottle the satisfied moan. She lets it be as loud as it wants and Dick slides her hand into his own lap.

She runs her hand greedily over the bulge in his pants. He's panting in her ear and it sounds wonderful.

She has felt wanted quite frequently since Veronica decided to use her as bait, but it had always come as a cold, slimy feel.

This, however, is a fantastically hot and fevered kind of feeling.

Right before Dick sends her over the edge, right there on the side of the road, she decided that he isn't getting the sleeping pill treatment.

She is going to fuck him until he passes out.

She has her hands full of his jacket as she comes, pressed up against his fingers trying to drive him deeper and she comes wet against his hand.

He doesn't wipe it off on her leg like she expects him to. He does up her seatbelt and, licking his fingers, drives off towards his house again.


They don't say anything again until they park in the garage.

"Here." Dick opens the door to the house for her and lets her in. She has the distinct feeling that he has her go ahead of him so he can watch her move.

They make it to the stairs before Dick's hands grab her waist to stop her. She turns to see what he's doing, but he clucks his tongue at her until she turns back around.

She can't see what he's doing, or about to do, but the anticipation is building up in her.

He presses his mouth against her exposed back. She makes a soft, low pleased sound and grabs the railing.

He bites and kisses his way up to her neck, his breath coming in ragged puffs against her skin. He wraps his arm around her middle and pulls them flush against each other.

She can feel him, hard, against her, rocking himself against her, his fingers digging into her hip. She slips her hand between them and, knowing what she's doing, he allows the space between them.

She flicks his belt open with one hand and easily undoes his pants.

"You're not wearing underwear either?" She laughs a little too herself, what a pair they make.

Not that they make a pair or anything. She's not delusional or anything. They've barely spoken to each other since he sat down next to her. This was sex, but the smile she can feel against her skin does something to her insides.

She puts her hand over his and pries him away, enjoying the whine he makes way more than she should.

She turns around and, with her hands balled up in his, no doubt expensive, shirt, she pushes him against the wall.

"What are you doing..." He asks. The words aren't unkind, just curious, but when she drops to her knees in front of him it's answer enough for him.

What are you doing? Do you need me? What's happening!? Is he forcing you!? Mac! Mac, stop you don't have to do this! Mac!

Veronica's voice blasts in her ear, but she focuses on Dick who's watching her in the dimly lit stairwell, his hands pressed hard against the wall.

She watches him as she takes him into her mouth.

Eye contact was one thing she did really well. She watches him whimper and try to keep his eyes locked on hers as she lavishes him with attention.

When she does that thing with her tongue he turns into a mess, she can feel his legs shake and is suddenly very worried that he'll fall down the stairs.

He moans out her name as he finishes in her mouth.

There's a lot, but she swallows, making a little face at the taste.

She cleans him off with her tongue and the only word he can manage is her name.

She stands up, brushing off her dress, and looks at him. He's a mess and it's only fair since he had been so single-minded about getting her off in the car.

"Bathroom?" He points to the door at the top of the stairs.

She locks herself in and runs the tap.

"Veronica..." She whispers as she looks through the cabinet. It's devoid of anything more interesting than toothpaste and tums.

What's going on Mac? Did you just give Dick a blow-

"Yes."

Gross, Mac, that's so gross. He's not, like, forcing you, or anything, right because I can have the cops over there in a heartbeat to throw that slime-

"He's not."

What's going on Mac. I mean, we need the information, and all, but not enough for you to whore yourself out.

Like she can even say that. She's been practically whoring her out ever since it turned out that men of a certain age and nature wanted her.

This is the first time she hasn't felt like a whore.

Mac? Mac, are you okay?

"I'm fine, Veronica. I'll call you when he passes out." She pulls the wire off, dropping her ear piece into the empty soap dish.

Dick's bedroom is easy to find. It's the open door at the end of the hall.

Dick is sitting on the bed, his head in his hands, not looking at all like she thinks a man about to get laid should look.

"Dick..."

He looks up, startled, like he hadn't expected her to still be there.

Maybe he heard her talk to Veronica, maybe he thought she was bailing on him.

"Hey."

She smiles softly and moves to the bed. She stands in front of him, "I lied about the dress."

"What?" She picks up his hands and puts them on her waist.

"It's a bitch to get off. Think you could help me out?"

The smile returns to his face and she's glad because his smile is kind of great and warms her up.

He stands up, holding her close to him, and slips the dress down her body like its nothing, capturing her arms in tight silk. He takes advantage of the fact that she can't move her arms. Pressing kisses against her collar and chest, biting, licking and sucking at her until her breath is coming hard and uneven.

He helps her arms out and tugs at the hem of the dress, watching it pool at her feet so she's standing in front of him in nothing but her heels and a predatory smile.

"I take back anything anyone has ever said about you not being able to keep a boyfriend..."

She pushes him back onto the bed and sits on his hips. He's shifting, rocking them back and forth, desperately trying to free himself from the fabric of his pants.

She ignores his efforts and instead focuses on taking off his shirt.

His hands are hot and heavy as they wander across her exposed body. She gets his shirt all the way open and runs her hands up his chest, pausing to feel his heart thump wildly under her palm.

He can't seem to take any more because he grabs her and flips her over so she's spread out under him, her heels scraping up his calves.

He kisses her again. Hard and deep, like he means to never come up for air, like he means to lose himself somewhere in her kiss.

He plunges into her, capturing the noises she makes like he feeds on it.

It wouldn't be the first time she has thought of him as an incubus and, when he moves against her and seems to just devour the sounds she makes, she's sure it won't be the last.

She lets him do whatever he wants to her, bending her and biting and soothing the bites with his mouth. It might be because she plans to ride him until he passes out, but it probably has more to do with the fact that it's fantastic and that she can barely do anything other than respond to him.

When she finishes this time he doesn't even pause and it maintains the euphoria until he finishes.

His hands full of bedding, hers ripping at his shirt, her legs desperately pushing him further in, spurring him forward with the point of her heels.

The sounds he makes in her ear are shuddering and unchecked, and littered with swearing and her name.

He rolls off of her and lies beside her, huffing for breath. She wants to make fun of him for huffing like a dancer off stage, but she's struggling to regulate her own breathing and heartbeat.

"You're wearing too many clothes." She tells him, pushing unhappily at his pants.

With a soft, good natured laugh, he tosses his pants and shirt off.

"Better?"

She pushes herself up, and she straddles him. While looking at the mass of hot skin, she pinches him.

"Ow." He tells her pointedly.

"What are you, like zero percent body fat? You weirdo."

He answers by pulling her down so he can kiss her.

He has a quick recovery time, thank god, and she takes full advantage of it.

He reaches out to grab her hips as she fills herself with him, but she slaps them away.

"Wha-"

"Stay. It's my turn."

He nods obediently and grabs onto the footboard. His eyes focused intently on the way she moves.

She misses the feel of his hands on her, but the sounds he makes as she moves against him, berating him when he tries to move, are more than worth it.

Next time though, she wants his hands all over her.

She bends towards him when she comes, wrapping her arms around him and her legs shake a little as she finishes. She moans in his ear and her fingers grip tight, trying to touch more of him than is probably even possible.

He follows her off the ledge, pulled over by who knows what combination of things, but he pulls the footboard apart. Her senses full of his roar of noise, the feel of him trying to become a part of her, and the clatter of wood onto the floor.

He doesn't pass out, but when she pulls off him, his eyes are barely open.

She smiles at him and makes to roll further away, but he grabs onto her and keeps her close.

"Since when is Dick Casablancas a cuddler?" She asks because that is, without a doubt, what is happening here.

"Since tonight." He whispers into her hair and the words sink into her.

She isn't much of a cuddler either, but this is nice.

"You can keep me if you want." He tells her and she looks up at him, but he's fallen asleep.

She grabs a pillow from the other side of the bed and puts it under his head.

He rolls away, but when she gets up from the bed his voice pierces through the sudden quiet.

"Are you leaving?"

"Do you want me to?"

"No. Come back to bed... We can get in properly if you want."

She picks up his button up from the floor and puts it on.

"You get into bed properly and I'll be back shortly."

He sits up and looks at her, "You look fucking outstanding."

She looks down at herself in his light colored button up and her dark heels.

"Go back to bed." She tells him with a smile, watching him settle into the bed the right way around this time.

She has her hand on the door when he talks again, a heavy welcoming voice from under the covers.

"The safe is in Logan's closet."

"The safe..."

"You're going to give Veronica the file, right? The safe is in Logan's closet and the code is Beaver's birthday." He grumbles out and turns in the bed again.

She finds the safe and gets the stack of papers Veronica wants. She flicks through them out of her own curiosity.

The Guitereze cousins...

So nothing to do with the case Veronica is supposed to be working on at all.

She doesn't even know why she's surprised.

She decides something while she's waiting for Veronica.

This is her last honey trap.

She isn't really upset with Veronica for using her like this. She had gone along with it and when Veronica had asked her a million times if it was alright, the first couple of times she had done it, she had told her it was fine.

It doesn't feel fine anymore.

There's a soft knock on the door before it opens. Veronica still has the keys Logan gave her.

"Hey... You alright?" Veronica asks, taking in the fact that she is wearing Dick's button up and nothing else.

"I'm good, here." She hands Veronica the folder and she clutches it to her chest.

"Did you look at..."

"Yes."

Veronica looks down at the floor between them as if waiting for the reprimand she knows must be coming.

"Veronica, I'm not going to do this anymore...this honey trapping thing... It doesn't feel right..."

"I asked you if you were okay with it..."

"I know and I thought I was, but I'm not."

Veronica nods, "I don't want you to do anything you don't feel comfortable with. I love you."

"I know. I love you, too, but the next creepy, old philanderer is going to hit on you."

"Okay." Veronica makes to leave, but stops at the door, "Do you want a ride home, or anything?"

"No, I'm going to stay..."

Veronica watches her carefully for a moment, taking in everything about her like she was some mystery she could solve.

"Okay, but let him know that if he hurts you I still know a thing, or two about disposing of a body."

Mac scoffs, "I'm just going back to bed. We aren't going steady, Veronica."

Veronica throws her a look that tells her that she knows more about what's going on than she does and disappears out the front door, locking it behind her.

Mac makes her way back to the bedroom. Dick is in the middle of the bed staring up at the dark ceiling.

"Why are you awake?"

"I was listening to see if you'd leave with her or not." Dick slides over to make room for her and she steps out of her heels before climbing into bed.

Dick's arm quickly wraps around her and pulls her close to him.

This is nice.

Nice doesn't seem like the right word...

This felt right.

"I meant what I said." He tells her quietly, his voice thick with sleep.

"What?"

"You can keep me if you want..."

"You want to be my boyfriend?"

He shrugs, but she can feel that he's holding his breath, waiting for her response.

"Okay." It's not like they can't just break up if this turns out to be a terrible idea.

She has a feeling though, when he kisses her softly, that it's not a terrible idea at all.