Stepping off the elevator, Chase rubs his hair with the towel one more time. Early evening was always the best time to work-out in the Fillmore Graves gym – after everyone had left the building. It gave him time to regroup before heading into another boring evening of paperwork and planning. The plus side of brain tubes was the fact that he never really had to stop for 'dinner'; mashed brains were the ultimate on-the-go-snack.
His navy blue t-shirt is still wet from throwing it on just after his shower, and he pulls it away from his skin, moving it back and forth a bit to try and dry the damp spots. Wrapping the towel around his neck, he pushes through his office door with a loud exhale.
When Chase's black office chair swivels around, instinct kicks in and he grabs his gun from the back of his pants, raising it towards the moving object.
Veronica gasps, her eyes opening wide as the revolver faces her. Recognizing his target, Chase drops his aim quickly towards the ground, his heart pounding in his chest.
"Jesus Christ, Mars! I could have killed you!"
The fear in her face recedes as he locks his gun, his arm falling to his side. Leaning back in his chair, Veronica kicks her feet up onto the desk, crossing her chucky boots at the ankles.
"But you didn't. Well done."
Whipping the towel from around his neck, he tosses it indiscriminately towards the boardroom table as he strides towards her.
"You're in my spot." He notes, placing the gun on the edge of the desk, facing away from her.
She shrugs, raising her hands to rest behind her head as she bobs back and forth slightly in the chair.
"You weren't here when I arrived so I decided to make myself at home."
Glancing across his desk, he notices she has fished out two glasses and his whiskey from the drawer; her glass is half-full. Placing his palms on the desk, he leans closer to her and smiles.
"Looks like you have. Did you have fun going through my drawers?"
Her eyes skim his torso before returning to meet his gaze, a smirk crossing her lips. "Not yet. But the night is young."
Sucking a breath through his teeth, Chase pauses, the thought of Veronica pressed up against him in nothing but her black lace underwear – her fingers hooked along the elastic of his tight grey boxers - flashes though his brain.
"I didn't know you were coming tonight." He says, pretending to look at a non-existent watch. "It's only 19:00 – kind of early by your normal standards."
"I never said I was coming." She coos back, a slight twinge of teasing in her voice.
Closing his eyes briefly, he chuckles, shaking his head. If this was what they were doing tonight, he was going to need another cold shower after her visit too.
"You can come anytime you want with me." He shoots back, watching her eyes darken at his words. "Multiple times, if you want."
For a moment there is nothing between them but electricity and silence. It was her turn to volley back at him and for the life of him, he had no idea what she would do next.
Sliding her feet off the desk, Veronica rises from the chair slowly, methodically. She's wearing her leather jacket with a black silky camisole underneath and as she moves, it falls away from her body, exposing her black lace bra ever so slightly. His eyes follow hers as she leans closer to him, her palms now pressed onto the desk mirroring his stance, her middle fingers touching his. Face to face, he can smell the sharp scent of cinnamon alcohol on her breath. She holds her position just inches from him and his breathing increases in time with hers.
"Is that a promise, General?" Veronica finally replies, licking her lips slowly.
Every muscle in his body tenses, resisting the urge to kiss her.
"You've been sent by my enemies to psychologically torture me, haven't you?"
The corner of her mouth twitches as she smiles. "How am I torturing you? I just popped by for a visit, that's all."
He runs his teeth along his bottom lip, his eyebrow arching as he maintains his gaze. Then a flash from the past floods his memory – Liv Moore, flirting with him in the hotel bar; Liv Moore, pouncing on him in the elevator on the way up to his room; Liv Moore, moaning his name as he fucked her on the desk in his hotel room; Liv Moore, disappearing from his room after their third round of sex that night when the nymphomaniac brains she consumed wore off.
Pulling back slightly, he frowns, regarding her now with some sense of worry. "What kind of brains are you on?"
Veronica blinks rapidly, her forehead creasing into deep lines. "None. Just brain tubes. Why?"
Chuckling, he stands, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "Bad zombie dating experience. Just checking."
A little snort escapes her mouth and she stands, picking up her whisky glass from the desk. "Care to elaborate?"
Reaching for his glass and the bottle, he lets out a groan of frustration as he fills it a little more than just a shot.
"I happened upon this woman I know – Olivia Moore, one of the medical examiners for the city – in a hotel bar one night. Well, we start chatting and flirting and one thing lead to another…" He takes a shot from his glass before continuing. "…and the next thing I know, she's disappearing from my room while I'm in the shower. Turns out she had consumed some very...how should I put this...adventurous brains that night. When they wore off, so did her attraction."
A cringe puckers Veronica's face and she sucks in a sharp breath. "Oooo…brutal."
Chase takes another sharp shot of his drink, finishing it before reaching for the bottle again for a refill. "Probably for the best it didn't go past the one night; she was also Lilywhite's ex-fiancee."
"No!" Veronica giggles, her hand rising to cover her lips to hold back her laughter.
"Hey! Don't laugh! She was an attractive, consenting adult who I knew was in fact a zombie so there was no risk that I would 'turn' her. And it had been a while since…you know…considering my circumstances." He replies with mock indignation.
"I'm sorry." Veronica stifles her giggles. "Zombism does put a crimp in one's social life."
"That it does." Chase raises his glass in a small toast before drinking his shot down in one gulp.
Veronica leans her hip on the desk and takes another sip of her drink in the silence.
"So," he begins hesitantly, seating himself on his side of the desk. "Has there been anyone – you know…special...since you've been turned."
She drops her head slightly and her hair falls down the side of her face, obscuring her features from view. "You say that like there could have been someone special before I became a zombie."
"Was there?" Chase replies softly.
Pushing her hair back, she tucks one side behind her ear, but doesn't make eye contact.
"No. Not really." Veronica's voice is now a quiet monotone. "I lived with someone for three years when I was in my late 20's, but he was another mistake."
Chase swallows hard, unprepared for what he may learn. "Was he horrible?"
She chuckles, glancing at him from the side of her eyes. "No. Just boring; and completely unsupportive of me being a private investigator."
Chase exhales with a small laugh. "So your run of the mill, average jerk?"
Swivelling, Veronica reaches across the desk and takes the bottle, pouring a shot into her glass. "Piz was alright, I guess. He was a music reporter that I met through some mutual friends. There was just never really a spark between us so in the end, it was more like living with a sibling than a lover."
"You lived with a grown man named Piz?" Chase asks incredulously.
She giggles again and something inside Chase bubbles with happiness at the sound.
"His actual name was Stosh Piznarski, but everyone called him Piz."
He smirks, shifting himself on the desk, his free hand stretching to brace himself with his palm presssed flat against the surface. "Not really the kind of name that one imagines being screamed in the throes of passion."
This time a full guffaw escapes her lips. Taking another sip of her drink, she twists her body, her hand sliding next to his as she braces her body, leaning towards him across the desk.
"What would be a better name -" she pauses, her breath hitching as she brings her face mere inches from his. "Chase?"
His body is screaming at him to move – grab her, kiss her, carry her over to the couch, and make love to her right then and there – but he freezes, his brain reminding him this will only scare her away.
Leaning closer, her lips brush his so gently that at first it almost doesn't register that she has kissed him. On her second pass, she pauses, pressing against him a little harder, lingering long enough for him to react, his hand moving up to gently caress her cheek. When she moves away from him slightly, he follows, eagerly catching her lips with his and she sighs, her fingers dragging up his arm to grasp his bicep, holding herself steady. In one quick movement, Chase slides himself up on the desk, his arm wrapping around Veronica's waist as he pulls her body closer to him, all the while keeping his lips firmly planted against hers. Now that they are closer, she opens her mouth slightly, her tongue brushing against his lips, looking for entry and he obliges a deep, satisfied moan releasing as his lips part. Her hand glides up his back, her fingers grasping his hair firmly and he groans his approval, echoing in her mouth.
She tastes of cinnamon and whiskey sweetness and the floral bouquet of her jasmine perfume makes him feel more intoxicated than he is. As they continue to explore each other – their lips brushing together as their mouths open, accepting the other inside of them – nothing else matters to Chase anymore. Let Seattle burn – just leave him here with Veronica and his life will be complete. He knows this is like nothing he has ever felt before – this feeling of all-consuming need for another human being, and now that this feeling is surging through him, he doesn't want it to end.
A coughing noise and then:
"Sir?"
Veronica springs away from his grasp so fast Chase almost falls over in her absence. He shifts his weigh quickly, standing straight on his feet towards the intruder.
The stoic pale face of Lieutenant Hobbs stares back at him; Hobbs' fingers raised in a frozen salute against the edge of his beret.
Chase glances briefly at his gun on the table, then up at Veronica. By the embarrassed pink tinting her cheeks he's sure she wouldn't mind if he shot Hobbs for his indiscretion. Turning back to face the Lieutenant, he puffs his chest out, his arms placed firmly behind his back.
"What the hell do you want?" Chase barks with such command that the soldier jumps slightly.
"Sorry to interrupt, General," The mealy little man begins. "But you said you wanted to go through my list of team members for the…uh…mission…as soon as I had it done."
Chase purses his lips, his jaw twitching as his muscles clench. "And you didn't think it could wait?"
Hobbs clears his throat, his eyes darting from Chase to Veronica to the ground. "I'm sorry Sir, I just thought that your…companion…"
"Wait a minute?" Veronica snaps, adjusting her leather jacket as she walks around the desk. "Do you think I'm a hooker?"
Hobbs clears his throat again, his eyes bouncing between Chase and Veronica as she moves to stand beside the towering General.
"Well, I did see you at The Scratching Post last night with Lilywhite, Sir, and I just sort of assumed -"
"That I sleep with prostitutes?!" Chase yells at the man.
"For the record – not a hooker." Veronica says raising her hand.
Chase glances down at her as she stands by his side, her nose twitches as she holds back a smile.
"No; definitely not a hooker." He says with a chuckle. "In fact, Hobbs – this is Veronica Mars, the contractor I hired to infiltrate Brother Love's congregation – also known to you as your contact for your mission on Tuesday."
The man's mouth drops open a little before he closes it, obviously thinking the better of speaking again.
"You can come in tomorrow morning and meet with me about your team," Chase continues. "But for tonight, you need to leave. Immediately."
"Very good Sir. Good night to you and Ms. Mars." Hobbs says with a slight nod in their direction, his eyes narrowing as he regards the couple across from him one last time before retreating back out the door.
There is a moment of complete silence as the pair watch Hobbs disappear down the hall.
"Is he trustworthy?" Veronica asks quietly.
"He's been with me for years – had my back in combat for a few. But recently I'm starting to get the feeling his loyalty is more and more to the board and less and less to me." Chase confides, his eyes still fixed on the glass walls surrounding his office.
"He won't jeopardize the mission, will he?"
Chase shakes his head, glancing down at her. "No. He can follow orders. I trust him with you and the kids – I don't trust him with the likes of Dalton and Blaine."
Veronica's hand reaches for his, slowly weaving her delicate fingers in between his thick digits. "As long as you're sure he'll keep us safe – I mean, I can handle myself but the kids -"
Raising her hand with his, he kisses her knuckles softly, lovingly. "Everything will be fine. I promise."
Her blue eyes sparkle back at him and he smiles. Giving his hand a tug, Veronica lowers his arm, stepping around him lightly, guiding him to follow. And he does, slowly and obediently until she stops in front of the couch, dropping his hand and turning towards him, a coy smile on her lips. Reaching up, she flattens her palms against his shoulders, giving him a little shove back. With a laugh he flops down into his seat, his arms stretching across the back of the cushions.
For a moment he regards her standing above him, wavy tussled hair framing her delicate features. Then, ever so gently, she kneels down on one side of him, then the other, her hips hovering over him just enough to give him some room. When his hands come to rest on her waist she lowers herself down to straddle him, a small gasp escaping her as her jeans connect with the bulge in his pants. Instead of moving she chooses to grind down into him, causing him to moan with pleasure.
Now, face to face again, she smiles, her nose brushing playfully against his.
"Is that a gun in your pocket, Chase?" She teases him.
"No, I'm just very happy you're here, Veronica." He replies, letting his hand drop to cup the soft curve of her buttocks.
She places her palm on his jawline, her thumb brushing his cheek. "I like hearing my name on your lips."
"I'll say it all night, if you let me -" Brushing his lips against hers, he mummers contentedly. "Ver-on-i-ca."
She giggles at his inflection, her lips connecting with his again. "Chase." She whispers, her breath warm on his skin.
Closing his eyes, he loses himself in the feeling of her on top of him, kissing her tenderly. His hand reaches under her jacket, spreading wide on her back, keeping her close to him. She responds by wrapping her arms around his head, her fingers sliding through his hair as she continues her eager kisses.
When she begins rocking her hips back and forth on him, he growls – a deep, feral tone from the depths of his chest – and she moans into his mouth before pressing down on him harder.
Chase's mind wanders as he continues his deep, passionate kisses, imagining them naked together, his cock buried deep inside of her as she rides him.
"Fuck." He moans in between kisses as he swells to uncomfortable proportions inside his pants.
Letting go of his hair, Veronica pulls her face back from his slowly, her movements on top of him stopping for the moment. Leaning into his hand, he holds her firmly, unwilling to let her move too far away. Dragging her teeth over her bottom lip, she smiles.
"Problems?" She asks, pushing herself down onto him again.
Shimmying underneath her, he manages to shift her back on his legs towards his knees and she giggles, her darkening eyes fixed on his.
"Not anymore." Chase murmmers, his head ducking under her hair, his lips making contact with the soft crease between her neck and shoulder. A mewl of pleasure resonates in her throat as he sucks her delicate flesh and her fingers grasp his biceps, her nails digging into his skin.
"Oh God, Chase – yes." Her words fall from her lips in a whisper before another passionate moan.
Taking her words as encouragement, Chase takes her jacket, pulling it gently away from her body, allowing him more access to her. As he continues to languish attention on the spot that is giving her so much pleasure, she shifts, releasing him for a moment as her jacket falls to the ground. He removes his lips from her for a second glancing down at her breasts held firmly by her lace bra near the top of her thin camisole. Veronica arches her back into his hand again, and he takes her cue, his hand moving from her bottom to slide up her shirt before coming to rest just under her bra. When his thumb passes over the fabric covering her nipple, her breath hitches before a low groan of satisfaction.
Kissing her neck softly he continues to move his thumb over her nipple in small circles and her hips pitch forward, trying to find him underneath her again. Small whimperings of arousal rise from her and he can't help but feel a deep sense of satisfaction that he is the reason for her excitement.
Veronica lets out a shaky breath. "Please Chase. Please don't stop..."
Continuing to pepper kisses along her neck, he moves to her clavicle before trailing down to the small crease between her breasts and pauses. He could go on, peeling back the fabric covering her skin, taking her beautiful breast in his mouth. He could easily bring her to orgasm, if he undid her jeans and slipped his fingers gently inside of her. But that's not what he wants. Planting one last kiss on the exposed skin of her breast, he raises his head in line with hers.
"Not yet." He whispers, sliding his hand away from her breast and resting it on her hip.
She blinks at his words, a look of shock, then mild annoyance crossing her face. "What? Why?"
Licking his lips, he chuckles. Gently sliding a section of touselled hair away from Veronica's face, he tucks it behind her ear and smiles at her perturbed pout.
"Because I don't want this to be another wham-bam-thank-you-zombie night; I want to take you home with me and make love to you slowly over a very, very long time. I want to see every part of you naked; memorize every line on your skin and kiss every mark on your body." Her lips start to curl in an embarrassed smile but she doesn't look away from him as he continues to speak. "I want to find out what you like; what you don't like; what makes you moan; what makes you come. But most of all, I want to lock us away from the world for just a little while so you can me mine and I can be yours, fully and completely."
Leaning forward, she kisses the tip of his nose and he laughs.
"Why Chase Graves...the last thing I expected was that you were such a hopeless romantic."
Grasping her bottom with two hands, he pulls her body closer to him once more. "I wasn't. But then I met you Veronica Mars."
Kissing him gently on the lips, she sighs, pressing her forehead against his. "You know, I shaved my legs in anticipation of some action so I'm disappointed on many levels right now."
His throaty laugh fills the room and he gives her a quick peck on the cheek. "Sorry to put you out. But I'll make it up to you...I promise."
Draping her arms over his shoulders, Veronica sits back, her eyes holding his gaze. "So when will this very planned night of not-so-spontaneous passion happen? Should I get my calendar out?"
A wry grin crosses his lips. "Don't make it sound so un-romantic. What's wrong with wanting to actually take you out on a date or two first? A movie? I mean, we're about to close down the best restaurant in town, but what about pizza? Maybe just pretend that this is something close to what would happen if we weren't in the situation we are in?"
She snorts, rolling her eyes at him and he chuckles. "Fine. You win. We'll do this the old fashioned way. But I reserve the right to still torture you with my sexual innuendo until that time."
"Oh don't worry about torturing me – I'm going to have a very long, possibly painful night alone in my office." He adjusts the bulge in his pants and she giggles.
Veronica's eyes focus on his pecs and she presses her palms against his muscular chest. "So after we take down Dalton and Blaine; after we get the kids away safely; after we get the brains that everyone needs...then we get to be together?"
"Yes." He replies, giving her butt cheeks a playful squeeze. "And then we can work together on locking down Brother Love for good and finding out who is stealing brain-tubes from our factories. Do all the planning for those missions while naked, sprawled across my bed."
Her eyes light up with excitement and she gasps. "How did you know my kink is getting the 'bad guys'?"
Chase kisses the tip of her nose gently and chuckles. "Lucky guess." Dragging his fingers gently across her cheek, he tucks the other side of her hair behind her ear.
With a deep exhale, Veronica rises, standing above him once more. This time, she offers her hand to him and he takes it, kissing it softly before releasing it back to her.
"Why do you do that? Why do you always kiss my hand?" Bending quickly, she picks up her jacket off the ground and pulls it on.
Chase's face warms and his eyes dart to the side, slightly embarrassed to admit the truth.
"My father used to do that to my mother – at the end of a meal, when they were sitting together on the porch, driving in the car."
A soft smile crosses Veronica's lips. "Well, it's quite charming. I don't know what other women have thought, but I quite enjoy it."
He glances up and shrugs. "I wouldn't know. I've never done it with anyone else."
She bites her lips, a soft tinge of pink on her cheeks. "Oh."
There's a moment of silence between them as the meaning behind his words sinks in with them both.
"Don't forget about our meeting tomorrow night."
"I won't." She nods before striding across the room, back to his desk. Reaching behind, she grabs her purse off the ground and swings it over her shoulder as she walks towards the office door. Pulling it open, Veronica pauses to glance back at him.
"Good night, Chase." She says softly.
"Good night, Veronica." He replies.
With a quick wink of her eye, she is gone, hurrying down the hall towards the elevators.
Sinking into the couch, Chase drops his head back onto the cushions, starting at the ceiling. Closing his eyes, the image of Veronica stretched naked across his bed – her pale glistening skin contrasting against his deep blue sheets, her hard pink nipples waiting for him to suck, the curly patch of white hair between her legs spread wide and welcoming for him. They could have been together tonight – on the couch, on the floor, on the desk - but he didn't want the quick fantasy; he wanted the long reality and was willing to hold out for it.
"You're a woman worth waiting for, Veronica." He says to himself in the emptiness.