DISCLAIMER: Characters of Veronica Mars, any recognizable dialogue, and the canon events of their storyline belong to Rob Thomas.

A/N:

Chapter 7 occurs during modified version of #1.19 "Hot Dogs"


Chapter 7

After our talk at the beach and non-talk on his bike, we didn't really talk about that proverbial pachyderm.

We would chat in the parking lot at school. He would drop by my locker to say hello.

He mentioned falling behind in a couple classes – so I offered to tutor him, if he could come by the office on nights I had to be there.

It's not as if we didn't talk or spend any time together. We just didn't have that talk.

There was no tension or weirdness. But there was also no urgency to establish whatever this thing between us was.

We fell into a comfortable rhythm. Not just friends. But not a couple either.

I wondered how long we could stay in this comfortable limbo before a catalyst caused a reaction in our chemistry.

[

[

During one busy week, I was helping Logan track down his sister's new boyfriend while also assisting a classmate find her missing dog. Duncan had gone missing, too – which was bad for a couple of reasons, but the primary one was that there was a chance that he could be the one who killed Lilly.

One evening, I was at the office tutoring Weevil since he had a math quiz coming up. When Dad walked in, he was less than thrilled to see who I was spending time with. They did their typical name exchange: "Eli" followed by "Sheriff." Then, Dad just kept looking at him until he got up to leave.

I gave Dad my best "Really?" glare. Then, I followed Weevil out into the hallway.

Catching up to him, I said, "You're gonna do fine on the quiz. Just remember to do the easy ones first, the ones that look familiar – get all the points you can. Then, go back and try to work the ones that give you trouble. Take your time and check your work."

"Yes, mom." His voice filled with sarcasm. But when he saw the look in my eyes, he said, "Sorry, V. I know you mean well, but I think it may be a lost cause."

"You are not a lost cause, Eli Navarro. Just go ask your grandmother. She will back me up on this. And you don't want to mess with the two of us." I poked my index finger into his chest.

"Got that right." He nodded and said his habitual "Thanks, V," as he turned to go.

When I walked back into the office, my dad started in on me about having Weevil there. I explained that he had done a few favors for me and I was just trying to help him out.

I added, "At least if he's here, you know he's not out there committing a crime."

As it turns out, I was more right than I knew. Because soon after he left our building, he was caught breaking into the Kane house. Actually, he was in Lilly's bedroom.

[

When I went to visit Weevil at the station, I had a brief and mildly awkward conversation with Leo who mentioned that, among other things, Weevil had a big pink pen on him when he was brought in.

On the drive over, I had thought through how to handle this conversation with Weevil, but I now found myself about to walk through the door to the holding cells … and I was at a complete loss as to how to approach this situation, how to approach him.

He was on the cot in his cell as I walked toward the bars.

"Hey," was all I could manage to say.

"Wow, spent a long time thinking about what you wanted to say to me. Huh?"

In the most neutral voice I could muster, I said, "I'm here, aren't I?" With a tilt of my head and my best Southern drawl, I added, "What's a sweet guy like you doing in a place like this?"

"Waiting for you, darlin'."

"Seriously, Weevil. One minute, you're at our office calculating 5% commission on the sale of a house. Then, the next you're …"

"What, V? Say it. Just say what you're thinking."

"I'm thinking several things. I'm not sure however what I believe. So I don't know what you want me to say." He remained silent, so I continued, "Okay, a direct question for you: what were you doing in Lilly's bedroom? I don't believe it was random B&E."

He stood and walked over to me. "Straight answer?"

"That would be lovely."

"You know about the letters I wrote her." He paused as I nodded that I remembered. "Well, we also used to pass messages to one another using a kiddie spy pen that—"

"That she found in her cereal box," I said as I recalled how excited she had been that morning in the car.

"She told you about it?"

"About the pen, but not who she was exchanging secret messages with. Okay, so what about it?"

"I probably should have tried to get it a long time ago or just left it, but with Duncan taking off … it got me thinking about stuff. And well, if they ever searched her room again, I didn't want them finding any notes."

"You broke in to steal a pen? A stupid worthless plastic pen? Was it worth it … you know, getting arrested for that?" When he didn't respond, she asked, "Is there a note in it?"

"There was when I found it."

"But not now?"

"Nope. Gone."

"Then, you're an idiot."

"What?"

"You heard me. You're an idiot." I stepped right up to the bars and said, "Just tell them that that's what you went in to get. They have the pen along with whatever else you had on you. It's not the kind of thing anyone would expect you to have under normal circumstances. If you tell them you wanted it for sentimental reasons, then the fact that you had a relationship with Lilly would have to be brought up. I'm sure there's plenty of evidence of that in files from the murder investigation. You try that approach and I bet they drop the charges. They wouldn't want all that getting aired in court – the fact that their daughter was sleeping with you."

"V." He looked at me with an expression that was part surprise, part relief, part worry. "I can't believe you're being so calm about this."

I did not directly respond to his concern. "I'm gonna go talk to Cliff and see if we can set this plan in motion."

[

[

It worked pretty much the way I expected. Cliff made a big fuss about how Weevil wanted his day in court and an opportunity to say that all he wanted was a memento of his relationship with Lilly. The fact that Lilly's prints were on the pen helped Weevil's case. Also, the fact that neither the security guards nor the cops had found anything of any value on his person at the time of his arrest. His explanation was more than plausible – hell, it was downright true. The Kanes had backed down pretty quickly. They were tired of scandal. And they had enough to worry about with Duncan missing.

[

After he was released, his first stop was home to see his grandma. Also, a shower and a change of clothes.

His next stop was my doorstep.

When I opened the door, he stood there with his head hanging down, both hands shoved in the front pockets of his jeans.

"Hey, there," he said.

Recalling his comment to me at the station, I replied, "Spent a long time on that, did you?"

"Yeah, so … thanks for coming up with that idea."

"You mean telling the truth? Revolutionary idea. It might just catch on."

"Anyway, Cliff worked some kind of magic with the Kanes and poof! It's like it never happened."

"I'm glad it worked out." I was still standing in the doorway – leaning on the doorframe with one hand, holding onto the knob with the other.

He sighed and rubbed a hand nervously on the back of his head and neck. "So, I blew it, right? I mean, your dad's not happy to see my face even if it's stuck in a math textbook. You got Leo, Logan, Norris, and whoever else interested in you. Now this. I assume any chance I had is gone."

I didn't know what to say to that. I just pulled him into a hug and we stood there a while.

After releasing my hold on him, I said, "I was about to take a study break – make some popcorn, watch some tv. Would you like to join me?"

He seemed genuinely surprised by my invitation.

I stepped back through the doorway and opened the door wide, allowing him to enter.

We sat on the couch while some 30-year-old movie played on TBS. We weren't really watching it. We weren't talking either. Just sitting quietly – not unlike riding on his motorcycle together.

About half an hour later, Dad came home. He didn't seem surprised to see my guest. He nodded as he said, "Eli. Cliff told me you were released." He glanced at me in a way that told me he knew my part in all of this. Then, he said to Weevil, "Word of advice? Next time, don't risk your future for a plastic memento." He had nothing else to say as he walked back to his room.

Another half hour later, Weevil had fallen asleep on my shoulder and I did not have the heart to wake him. I pulled out my phone and started to make a list of things I needed to do in the next week – trying to be productive without moving.

My dad walked out to get something in the kitchen and glanced over at us. Really, he came out to check on us and the whole kitchen thing was a smoke screen. He's not kidding anyone but himself.

He walked toward me and said softly, "I don't like it."

"Oh Dad, let it go. It's not like he's 'pinned me' or anything. Well, okay, I am stuck here on this couch right now, but you know what I mean."

"But…"

"But nothing. Look, Dad – he's here."

"And by that you mean?"

"Well … 1) he was willing to face you and 2) he's not out committing a crime. He's here – asleep on our couch." I did as much of a Vanna White gesture as I could without jostling the sleeping gang member. "And look at that face. So sweet. So vulnerable. I mean I'm more dangerous to him right now than he is to me."

My dad rolled his eyes at that. Then, he raised his hands in mock defeat before saying, "I need to go out for about an hour. No wild parties while I'm gone." That last sentence was punctuated by a finger point and a pointed look.

But what he really meant was: he wasn't too sure about leaving me alone with Weevil.

While I was talking with my Dad, I had felt Weevil's breathing change. After Dad left, I whispered, "You're awake. Aren't you?"

A soft "Mm-hmm" was the response I was given.

We adjusted position to get a little more comfortable, bumping into one another as we settled in. He took that physical contact as an invitation to tickle me. Nothing much, mind you – just some feather light touches here and there. He seemed to be trying to suss out where my ticklish spots were. Every once in a while, he'd stumble upon an area that made me uncomfortable. He would feel me stiffen up and he'd reacquaint himself with my comfort zones.

The movie ended before Dad returned. As the credits began, Weevil started to move. "I should get going. And you should go back to studying or whatever you were working on when I got here."

Eyeing him suspiciously, I said, "Are you trying to get on my father's good side?"

"Does he have one? And if he does, can you tell me where it is?" he responded, only half joking.

I walked him to the door and started to say something when he cut me off with a question.

"If I gave you a goodnight kiss, would I risk getting tasered?"

"It's not like I have my taser on me."

He smiled at me nervously. "I'm being serious, V."

"The thing is, if you're interested in me because you've heard all the stories about me that ... although they sound fun, could hardly be called facts … well, you will be incredibly disappointed. 'Cause that girl – whoever it is they're talking about – is not me. Not at all. Not even a little bit. Just wanted to get that straight."

"Thanks for clearing that up, but that's not why I'm interested in you."

My only response was to take a step forward.

His movement was smooth and assured as he put one hand on the back of my head and the other on the small of my back, pulling me toward him slowly and deliberately. His grasp on me was firm but gentle – as were his lips, when he finally made contact. The kiss lasted long enough for his hand to get tangled in my hair and for me to get lightheaded. His other hand migrated down the back of my jeans. I half expected him to lift me up and press me against the wall. Part of me was a little disappointed when he didn't. Mostly, I was just enjoying the feeling of being enveloped by him.

After he stopped kissing me, he pressed his forehead to mine and just stood there for a moment – inhaling and exhaling in the most peaceful, contented way. He placed a tender kiss near my temple and whispered, "Goodnight, Veronica."

When I shut the door, I leaned back against it and closed my eyes. I could still feel the warmth of his touch, the pressure of his lips on mine. Good gracious – that boy could seriously kiss!

As I was getting ready for bed, I took off my jeans and checked the pockets. I found a note in the back pocket that read: Have you figured it out yet?

I pulled out the cards and notes I had received back in February and compared the handwriting.

Picking up my phone, I called Weevil. "So ... I found a note in my pocket. Any idea how that got there?"

He replied, "Wow! You must have been really distracted to not notice someone putting something in your back pocket."

"I never said back pocket. But yeah, I was … a bit distracted," I admitted. But he definitely had my attention now.


A/N:

Thanks for reading! Until next time ...

~Jen

11 September 2016