A/N - Thanks for all of the birthday wishes for my little guy. He had such a great time, and is unusually proud to be four.
Every time I post a chapter, I find myself shocked by the things you liked/disliked. I figured everybody would like reading about Lilly/Logan, but I had no idea how many of you would end up enjoying the Celeste/Jake scene. I was so sure you'd all hate it!
Thanks again to all who left feedback - it really is an invaluable learning tool and one of the main reasons I love writing so much. It's gets me really excited about the story when I know you're right there with me :)
I want to give a special shout out to petpluto, who doesn't have an account here (otherwise, I'd PM) and left some nice reviews. If you haven't read any of her work over at 'archive of our own', you should definitely check it out - especially if you're a fan of Weevil. She gives good Weevil.
Previously: Veronica rode with Duncan to the courthouse to turn himself in. He all but told her that he was responsible for killing Aaron. She offered him that last kiss he wanted, but he refused, citing his acceptance of her relationship with Logan - finally giving them closure. Celeste screwed Jake out of seeing Duncan off in the morning, and then mentioned Veronica was with him, which prompted a discussion with Lianne about her daughter. Lianne admitted to Jake and Celeste that she stole the bounty fee, and Jake decided to send out new checks to both Keith and Veronica, as a bid to ease Lianne's feelings of guilt. Logan took Lilly with him to Madison's photo shoot. While they were there, Madison ran her mouth about Meg and said nasty things about Veronica, and Lilly put her in her place. Logan got the list of names from Mad., then met Wallace outside of the studio to do some reconnaissance work.
CHAPTER 10
Veronica and Duncan walked into the Neptune Municipal Courthouse hand-in-clammy-hand.
As they strode across the smooth, marble floor of the cavernous lobby, Duncan's pulse began to race.
This is really happening.
"You okay there, slim?" Veronica squeezed his hand, jolting him back to the present.
He worked his jaw and tried to remain stoic. "Not sure I'd use the word okay..."
A large bailiff struggled to transport a young Latino thug, wearing shackles on both his arms and legs, across the grand hall. It was just beyond the security gate, but from the way Duncan flinched, anyone might have assumed the skirmish was happening next to him. He let out a shuddering breath.
"Hey, it's going to be cake." Veronica wrapped an arm around his trim waist. "I've got you covered, remember?"
Right after she found out that I lied to her about Meg's pregnancy, she still chose to risk her future for me. Last month, she did again with Petrenko - and even now, when she should be at home convalescing - here she is.
Their eyes met and he couldn't help but smile. "It's ridiculous how much I'm depending on you right now."
"The whole thing is pretty ridiculous, if you ask me." She made an unhappy face. "But rest assured, I've got my best man on it."
"We're still talking about Weevil?" Duncan watched admiringly as Veronica let loose with one of her megawatt smiles. He followed her gaze across the room, to just the other side of the security checkpoint, where an alert-looking Keith Mars stood scanning the crowd, dressed in his full sheriff's uniform.
Veronica lifted her hand and curled her fingers in her father's direction.
"Hello Agent Mars, I didn't think I be seeing you back here so soon."
Duncan was startled by the voice of the heavy set guard in the next check-in lane.
Veronica recognized her instantly and grinned. "I couldn't stay away."
The guard was manning the x-ray machine, but didn't hesitate to stop her duties to pull them from their line into the front of her lane as soon as she saw the young Fed.
Grumbling erupted from the people now waiting in line behind them.
She's been back in town less than two months and she's already getting preferential treatment? Typical Veronica.
"You know how it is. I just go where they tell me." Veronica shrugged and pulled her gun from its holster.
The guard eyed Duncan suspiciously. "What happened to the guy with the arms? He still in the picture?"
Veronica giggled and Duncan realized then that he'd barely heard her laugh since she'd come home from the hospital. "Always. He's following around another blonde today. You know how men are. Fickle."
"Seriously?"
"No, he's just babysitting my friend's seven year old daughter," she said, hooking her thumb in Duncan's direction.
"Did you tell him about..." The larger lady let her eyes drop to Veronica's belly.
Tell who about what? Leave it to Veronica to even have a secret with the guard at the courthouse. Her mind is packed with more proprietary information than J. Edgar Hoover's personal briefcase.
"Yeah." Suddenly flustered, Veronica placed her gun and clip on the conveyor belt. "Do you need to check this into the safe today or just register it?"
"I still have your serial number in the system. Since you're a government employee, I can just scan it, put it through the machine and you can take it with you inside, this time. Our protocol is generally not to allow anybody but active law enforcement to being firearms inside, but I'm willing to make an exception, since you have high security clearance and you've been here before."
The guard scrolled through a group of serial numbers on her tablet until she found Veronica's, then cross-checked it with the weapon scanner. A pleasant beep sounded aloud at the match. "There. Now, you can take it with you."
Veronica contemplated the gun in her hands. "Huh, and see, I was always told you can't take it with you."
Duncan groaned at her bad joke.
She punched him lightly in the shoulder. "I'm working on an empty stomach here."
"I call BS on that. You ate breakfast, Veronica, I witnessed it myself."
"Yeah, but if you had let us stop at Cho's on the way like I wanted to, I'd be, like, Comic Strip-level hilarious." She pouted out her bottom lip.
Duncan sighed and peered down at her. "They weren't open yet. Most people don't want pizza at 9am."
"That's their problem."
"Some of us have places to be..." A teenage cholita with a brown ring and a Mother Mary tattoo imprinted on the center of her chest tapped her heavy boot.
Veronica sheepishly twisted her body toward the girl. "Sorry."
The guard interrupted the tense moment by clearing her throat. "Okay, Agent Mars, do you want a body search like last time?"
"God, I hate these checkpoints." Duncan scrunched up his face. "Why don't you just walk through the machines? It's faster that way."
"I can't." The bottom lip she formerly had hanging out was now tucked neatly between her teeth. "I can't go through with the gun."
But she just registered your gun? What?
"Didn't you just - -?"
"It's better this way. More thorough."
Duncan rubbed his hand over his face. He could feel his muscles tighten the closer they got to his destination.
Veronica Mars opting for the more time-consuming activity? Something in the sauce ain't right. Why is she so adverse to walking through the x-ray machine?
He gave her a doubting look.
"Well, we've now wasted more time talking about it than doing it." Veronica sounded irritated, but her tone lacked a certain bite. She took off her blazer and held her arms aloft. "Anyway, since when are you in such a hurry to get to jail?"
"I just want to get this over with." He checked his watch for the time and sighed his annoyance. "I remember how much I hated having to do this so many times a day during Lilly's trial. 'Let the memory live again'!" he sang, slightly off-key.
At the signal from the other guard on duty, Duncan walked through the metal detector, then turned around and eyed Veronica suspiciously as the guard hovered the wand over the back of her jean skirt. "I'm done before you are? That's a shocker."
"Don't get your panties in a bunch."
The security guard flashed her new acquaintance a pair of sympathetic eyes. "You're all clear."
Veronica dramatically wiped her brow with the back of her hand. "Thanks, officer."
The older woman bobbed her head at Veronica. "Hey, next time you're here, you should bring the other one – the nice arms guy - he complained less."
"Maybe in front of you. Believe me, Logan is not shy when it comes to complaining in the comfort of his own living room."
The guard furrowed her brow with concern. "Your boyfriend, he didn't complain about..."
"No." Veronica cut her off, before a dreamy expression crossed her face. "He had quite the opposite reaction, actually. It was...unexpected."
Complain about what? What was unexpected?
"I'm glad to hear that."
"Thanks." She straightened her jacket and smiled at Duncan, who was kicking the ground like a kid. "Come on, time is a'wastin."
His head flipped up, with an incredulous look. "You're the one who - -"
"I just prefer to the metal detector to getting irradiated. X-rays aren't exactly healthy." Veronica twisted her lips nervously with her fingers.
The woman brings a gun to work, but she's worried about the danger posed by radiation levels that are dwarfed by a dental x-ray?
The metal detector alarm went off as the chola walked through it.
"For pregnant ladies, maybe. The level you get from one of those machine is perfectly fine for normal adults like us, though." He shook his head at her strange affectation. It wasn't like her to sweat random stuff like that.
Duncan observed the guard waving the metal-detector wand over the chola's midriff and something in his brain clicked things into place.
No. She can't be...
"Pops!" Veronica quickened her pace and fell into her father's open arms. "Ooh. Careful, I've got a piece strapped to my left side."
"I liked your Brownie uniform better than this." Keith lifted the flap of her blazer and frowned at the gun.
"Oh, I don't know, I have a feeling I would have sold several more boxes of Samoas if I'd been packing back then. People have a genuinely hard time saying no to a ten year old blonde wielding a Glock."
Duncan wagged his finger at her. "You wouldn't have needed a gun if you'd been pushing Thin Mints instead."
He smiled at an old memory of Veronica at age 12, wearing a brown beret.
When I get out, I'm going to sign Lilly up for the Brownies. She deserves to be doing 'normal girl' things for once.
Keith stroked the side of his daughters hair and looked at her with curiosity. "What's different about you? You look different."
"Moi?" Veronica pointed to her own chest. "It's probably all that meth I've been snorting. Word has it, meth has an adverse affect on the way you look. If somebody had just informed me, I would have switched to heroin a lot earlier." Veronica looked at her father with disappointment. "You're my dad, it's kind of your job to teach me these things."
"What can I say? I'm a slacker." Keith turned up his palms and shrugged in her direction, before turning his attention toward Duncan. "You ready, champ?"
No.
Duncan expelled a long breath. "Let's do this."
"I'll give you two a minute to say goodbye." Keith rested a hand on the young man's back then disappeared into the background to give them privacy.
"You're not coming?" he asked Veronica, a shock of panic rocketing through his broad frame.
She shook her head. "You have to do this part alone, but I arranged for you to have the best police escort in the world."
This really is it, then?
Veronica threaded her arms under his and wrapped her hands around his back. He cradled her head as she burrowed it into his chest. "Take care of my baby, okay?"
She nodded silently, her labored breathing tickling his neck as she held on tighter to his waist.
"And take care of your baby..." he whispered into her ear.
She instantly became rigid in his arms. "How did you...?"
"The x-ray machine, the vomiting all week, Logan's sudden turnaround this morning...it doesn't take a genius to put it all together." He smiled into her cheek. "I'm really happy for you."
"Thanks...but hey, please don't mention it to anybody yet. I haven't had a chance to tell my father."
"I won't tell a soul in the prison yard, no matter how many cigarettes they try to bribe me with." He held her closer and buried his face into her hair, inhaling her scent for the last time. The way she smelled was comforting to him. It always had been, but everything was different now.
Veronica would always remind him of home, but she was no longer his home, and he was strangely okay with that.
I've loved you for half of my life, and I know I'll love you for the rest if it, but even I can see that maybe you're better off with him. Maybe we both need somebody like Logan, someone who accepts all of our flaws without judgment?
"You and Echolls procreating, eh? Would you be offended if I told you that I'm a little frightened for the world at large?" Her laughter vibrated against his chest.
"You and me both, Donut." Veronica held his face in her hands and softly kissed his lips. It was chaste, yet full of heavy emotion. "I...I love you, okay? You're not alone in there, remember that."
Wish that were really true.
He nodded and then reluctantly released her, like an exaltation of wedding doves being thrust into freedom. "I'll see you in a week?"
"Bright and early Sunday morning...every Sunday morning." She saluted him, then nodded to her father to take him away.
As Duncan turned the corner into the next corridor, Veronica wrapped her arms around herself. A weak act of repose.
I just have to trust that Weevil's guy can protect him. I have to. I won't be able to sleep at night, otherwise.
"Yo!"
Veronica turned at the sound of her friend's unmistakable voice echoing from the other side of the security checkpoint.
"I'd come around to you, but I'm pretty sure I'm on this building's no-fly list, chica."
The Mexican guard doing check-ins looked up at the loud exchange, then shot Veronica an amused look of approval.
Yeah yeah...so three of my closest friends are all sexy guys. I can't help it if they hit the genetic jackpot. This woman probably thinks I'm a Jezebel.
"Hang on to your hat, Kojak. I'll be right around." Veronica walked through the exit, giving an appreciative wave to the guard on her way out.
Weevil sidled up to his partner with dead eyes, causally flipping his keys back and forth against the palm of his hand. "You did not just call me Kojak."
She put a finger to her lips in thought. "I'm pretty sure I did."
He threw an arm around her shoulders and pulled her against his side. "I'm gonna let that one slide because you're having a tough morning, but I hear that again tomorrow and you're going to find yourself without a chauffeur."
She liked not having to explain how she felt to Weevil, he was always pretty intuitive when it came to her. The best part about their friendship is that he never expected her to talk about personal crap, he knew she'd do it if and when she felt like it. Most of the time, she didn't feel like it, and that was never a problem for him. She always had Wallace if she needed a push to do the healthy thing.
"Soon, I won't need a chauffeur. The doctor may clear me for driving this week." She preened a little as they walked into the intense light of the morning sun and descended the staircase toward the parking lot.
"You still need a car. If I'm not mistaken, yours got a little banged up."
Understatement.
Veronica flashed back to the explosion and pulled a sharp hit of cool December air into her lungs.
His face crumpled into a grimace at the moment his metaphorical foot hit his mouth. "Shit. I'm sorry, Vee. I didn't mean it like that."
She pretended to laugh it off to a feeble result, and he pretended to buy it, without belaboring the issue.
"Don't sweat it."
They walked in silence down the long row of cars until they found his. She stared at the cherry red paint job on his restored 1980 Camaro and her mind wandered, trying to recall a time when she wasn't repressing her feelings about something.
Is it possible for a person to be born with secrets? Is that what they mean by original sin? Not sure how original it is having an alcoholic for a mother, but I've more than made up for the lack of creativity in my infancy with the non-stop crapfest that bombarded my later years.
Veronica held her breath as Weevil unlocked the passenger side door, and her pulse started to pick up at the thought of his key slipping into the ignition.
Every parking lot I'm brings me back to that night. Every time.
"Hey..." Veronica fingered the jagged edges of the metal key hanging around her neck by a silver chain. "Can we make a stop before you drop me home?"
"Where we headed?" He opened the door and gestured for her to get inside.
She hesitated. "I thought we'd pass by the bus station. My dad and I were supposed to stop there after hitting up the Stix last time, but he got called away on business before we could go, and then I...got busy."
Examining Mac for a possible rape seemed more important at the time.
Weevil threw his thick keychain into the air and caught it around his back. "You got it, Miss Daisy."
Veronica stood motionless next to the vehicle and apprehensively kneaded her hands together. Weevil caught her drift immediately, and for that she was thankful.
"Hey, why don't you go wait over by the curb and I'll swing around and pick you up?" he offered, purposely avoiding eye contact. She knew he didn't want to see what she was thinking almost as much as she didn't want to read his thoughts on her at the moment.
A pained smile overtook her lips. "Sounds like a plan."
Despite what happened and what everybody might think, there really is no place like home.
Sprawled out on her couch, with Dick's imposing frame hovering over her, Mac's fingers slid up the back of his revolting, douchey message t-shirt, and she couldn't help but marvel at the absurdity of their shared history.
Who would've guessed that the sweet, younger brother, whom I had so much in common with, would turn out to be a psychotic murderer...while the asshole, older brother, who used to bully us mercilessly, would turn out to be the kind of guy who would willingly offer himself up as bait to the bad guys, in order to allow his friends a safe getaway?
"Mackie...Mack!"
She snapped out of her reverie and focused her pupils in Dick's direction. "Sorry. I was...this is just so weird, right?"
He shrugged. "Does it matter?"
She thought about it for a moment, and then found herself getting lost in his admiring gaze. "I guess it doesn't."
He grinned down on her. "My motto: if it feels good, it is good."
"Would you apply that same credo to doing smack, surfing while intoxicated and risky sex?" Even as the words left her lips, Mac knew she sounded pedantic and belittling. She knew Dick wasn't really the idiot he pretended to be, but it was a force of habit for her to tease out his most inane statements and expose them to the world for the bullshit they were. "I have no idea why I just said that."
He slid down behind her and pulled her back against his chest. "S'ok. I get it."
She looked over her shoulder at him and raised an eyebrow. "You do? Can you explain it me me, then?"
Dick swept Mac's soft blanket of hair off of her neck and settled his lips near her ear. "You're looking for a reason why we don't work." His mouth grazed the delicate skin on the column of her neck and she leaned into it. "But you can't find any, so you're making one up, trying to start a fight about nothing."
How oddly accurate.
"You're pretty intuitive for a finance major."
"I dabbled in Freud." He continued off her puzzled look. "Lots of hot chicks take psych."
"That statement, in and of itself, is worthy of an exploration into Freud's theory of the Id, Ego and Superego."
He let her know what he thought of that assessment by nipping her just above the collar bone.
"Ow." She turned over onto her back and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Dick...you're not going to get bored with me in a week, go off and screw some waitress, are you?"
Dick ghosted her hairline with his fingertips. "Not unless she's your type and you invite her to join us."
How many girls has he fucked? Ugh. Stop thinking about it, you're only sabotaging yourself. Say something sweet instead. Sweet...hmm...
"Doubtful, since apparently you're my type." She flashed her dimples at him.
He leaned over and pressed his lips against hers and she sighed into his mouth, giving him the opportunity to slip his tongue inside.
Damn, the boy can kiss.
She thought about the past few weeks, the time he put into wooing her, all the while not knowing that she was a sure thing. Then, she recalled his behavior the night before last, when she stumbled into her house disoriented, and he rushed to her aid without a thought. The panicked look in his eyes was the most humbling thing she'd ever experienced. Nobody had ever looked at her that way before. "You really do like me."
"Seriously? It's not obvious?" Dick's eyes dropped to his erection, which he pressed firmly up against her groin.
Mac gasped, then her eyelids fluttered closed and a blissful smile appeared on her face. "Feels pretty obvious, but maybe I need some further convincing?"
What's he waiting for?
Dick hesitated before kissing her again.
Just as Mac wrapped her legs around his waist, he pulled back from her and sat up.
"What the hell, Dick?" A panicked feeling settled in the center of her gut.
I thought he liked me. Maybe this is going too fast for him? Maybe he changed his mind?
"I – I think we should, you know, just chill out a little bit."
He looked two minutes away from peeling off his own skin and running for the hills.
Mac pulled herself to a sitting position and tried to mitigate her embarrassment. "That's cool. I mean, maybe you just like me as a friend?"
"I do like you as a friend, Mackie." He shot her a lopsided smile, then focused his attention on the task of removing specks of imaginary lint from the left leg of her pajama pants.
Oh...crap.
"That's kinda why I think...we should wait to...do stuff." He looked up at her shyly, with eyes as innocent as a baby's.
"Stuff?" She knew exactly what kind of stuff he was talking about, and he knew she knew it too, but she needed to hear him say it.
"I fuck up a lot of things, even when I don't really mean to." Dick shrugged his shoulders and flicked a flannel lint speck off of her leg. "I don't wanna fuck this up."
Wow. Dick wants to screw everybody. For him not to want to have sex with me, he must like me even more than I thought.
Her chest heaved with excitement, the idea that he'd given special thought to being with her like that, made her insides heat up and pool between her legs.
Uh-oh. I think I like him more than I thought, too.
"You sure you want to take that stand today?" She pulled herself onto his lap by her legs and ground her center against his erection.
"Shit! You're not making this easy for me," he grumbled.
"Actually..." She dug her hands into his impressive mane and took his earlobe into her mouth. "I think I'm making it very easy for you."
He groaned and tried to stand up, letting Mac fall backward onto the couch. "I need to do this, okay? Don't you get it?"
Dick was practically shouting at her now as he paced the swatch of carpet in front of her, and she stared at him in disbelief.
Who the hell is this?
"Not forever...just like, two weeks or something. I've never dated a girl that long without laying the pipe."
"Seriously?" Her face reflected her disgust at his sexual history, choice of wording, and her own dismaying lack of shock at the claim.
"I mean, I've had girlfriends before..." Their eyes met and she'd be willing to bet money that they were both thinking of Madison at that moment. "But, there was nobody that I actually...you know..."
She rose to her knees without realizing it. "No...I don't know. Tell me."
Dick stopped pacing and stood in front of her on jittery legs. He ran a hand through his hair twice and took a few breaths before working up the nerve to look at her again. "You're the first chick I've ever liked that I could...I don't know...see having something real with?"
He phrased it as a question, but it clearly wasn't meant as one.
Mac's face pinched as she processed the true meaning of his words. "You mean like...a future?" The words felt foreign in her mouth.
Dick sighed his relief at her understanding and grinned boyishly. "Yeah. That."
I'm not good at talking about crap like this. Why is he doing this now? Why can't he just bend me over the couch and do what we've both been been thinking about for longer than I'd be willing to admit out loud?
"Oh."
That's all you can come up with, Mac? The poor guy just poured his heart out to you.
Oh my God, I've got to get the hell out of here before I embarrass myself.
Mac nodded her head and tried her best to extricate herself from this situation the most painless way possible. "Guess I should go take a cold shower, then?" She nudged his shoulder with her closed fist in an awkwardly chummy fashion and he responded to the gesture with marked confusion.
"I thought..."
Just as he started to speak, her cell phone began to ring loudly from the bowels of her purse on the hallway floor.
Saved by the bell.
The engine of Weevil's car purred loudly, then he shifted the gear into park. The vibrations from the motor lulled Veronica into an artificial sense of calm. He revved the motor once more to get her attention, but it only made her sleepier.
"Can I offer you a pillow?"
She blinked her eyes rapidly and turned to look at her partner. "Sorry. I haven't been getting much sleep lately."
He nodded, familiar with her propensity for night terrors.
I wonder what wakes Weevil up screaming in the middle of the night?
"You want me to go with?" Weevil let his hands slide down the sides of his leather steering wheel and land in his lap, as his car idled in the drop-off lane in front of the bus stop. "I could watch your back."
Veronica shook her head. "I want you to stay right here and watch the car's back. Keep the motor running."
I'm seriously considering traveling by bike from now on. No ignition.
Weevil challenged her decision with a look, but quickly backed down. Of all her friends, he knew best what a hard-head she could be when pushed.
He reached across her chest and manually unlocked her door, then jut his chin up to signal for her to leave the car. "Make sure you do a good job watching your own back, then."
Her lack of an answer only seemed to fuel his worry, and his expression morphed into something quietly ferocious. "Comprende?"
It's official...he's a better backup than Backup was. Of course, the only thing Backup is good for guarding these days is the rear porch of my dad's house, but he still knows how to show those squirrels who's boss.
"Si. Yes." She held her hands up in surrender. "Though, now you've totally ruined my plan to get whacked from behind."
Weevil's eyes softened, but his jaw remained firmly set. "That ain't funny."
She leaned forward and grabbed his hand, giving it a light squeeze. "Sure it is."
Veronica left the car and slammed the large door behind her, using the entire weight of her body to do so, then let her right hand rest on the handle of the service weapon that was hidden under her jacket.
She walked quickly to the back section of the bus station and took in the rows and rows of puke-colored lockers lining both walls.
Some interior designer actually chose this color. Over other colors. Amazing.
Lifting the silver chain over her head, she held the brass number tag to the light and ran her thumb over the embossed '88' attached to the key.
When Veronica finally located the corresponding locker, she noticed a homeless man, who looked like Santa, passed out in her path. Between the stench of old booze and the man's girth, she assessed him as being low risk and decided to go around him.
But just as she was about to step to the side, Weevil's warning echoed through her head.
Watch your back.
The sounds of footsteps approaching turned her head, and a skinny, jeans-clad, man in his 20's with serious bedhead, unskillfully threw himself at her, knife in hand.
Really?
Veronica lunged to the side and the man ungracefully crashed, head-first, into the opposite row of lockers.
She re-donned the necklace and unsheathed her gun as she walked briskly in her shadow's direction. The guy was cornered. He had nowhere to go, and they both knew it.
"If you wanted my attention, all you had to do was ask." She scowled at the man cowering in the narrow gap between the metal wall units. She was too tired to deal with this crap today, and still craving that slice of pizza. Him keeping her from eating, made her want to cap his ass even more than the attempted shanking.
He laughed hysterically and covered his face with his hands.
What? The? Fuck?
"Uh-uh. Hands up, Sir Laughs-a-lot. Link your hands behind your head and stand up." She nudged his leg with her foot and aimed the gun directly at his head.
He half-followed orders by placing his hands behind his head, though it was obviously only a reflex to the routine. This clearly wasn't his first time dealing with law enforcement. She could easily guess with a fair amount of certainty that he'd been hauled in on a drug charge, if his red-rimmed eyes were any indication.
Regardless, this guy wouldn't be hard to subdue. He was strung out on some kind of amphetamine and would be incapable of a well-executed rebellion. She had to wonder what kind of enemy would send in a methhead fuckup to take her down.
In Neptune, all things meth usually lead back to the Fitzpatricks, but which one? Cormac is dead, Liam in prison, and Danny Boyd is too stupid to organize a yard sale, much less a menacing. Even the priest is in the clink, thanks to dear old dad.
Her thoughts drifted toward a certain blonde in a tight, red dress, but she quickly pushed them away.
Molly's never been involved with Fitzpatrick business before, she's never even approved of it. Plus, she knows I'm pregnant, and I just can't believe she'd hire some moron to rough me up when she knew it could hurt the baby. She may have been cold-hearted, but she was never cruel.
The junkie's irritating laughter reached a crescendo and Veronica kicked him harder, this time in the shin, then aimed her gun at his thigh. "Get the fuck up, while your legs still work right."
"You can't shoot me! I ain't armed or resisting arrest!" His unnerving laughter started up again and she stomped hard on his right knee cap, causing him to cry out in pain – which unbelievably - still didn't put an end to his insane cackling.
"Shut up and get up, Chuckles. In that order."
The attacker's right leg shook aimlessly with a bad case of the DTs, throwing off his equilibrium. The side of his head knocked against the steel of the cabinet, but he kept on keepin' on.
I'm going to shoot myself if he doesn't shut the fuck up soon.
"I'm starting to feel threatened. Maybe you attacked me again?" She cocked the hammer of her gun and the man's giggles miraculously slowed down, trailing off into nothing. "This is the last time I'm going to ask you." She motioned with her gun for him to stand up, and he scrambled to his feet.
She pulled him out of his hiding spot by the lapel of his faded, acid-washed jean jacket, took his weapon off of him and quickly gave him a pat-down, finding only a dimebag of crank hidden in his sock. "Who sent you?"
"Am I under arrest?" he asked defiantly.
If I had the authority right now, I would, but what you don't know...
"Why would I do that, when there's so much more I can do to you in this deserted bus station?" She flashed her teeth menacingly and threw his open knife into the air with her left hand, catching it deftly by the handle on its way back down. "Gee, I hope I don't drop it, next time. Somebody might get hurt."
"Fuck you. I want a lawyer."
Now, Veronica was the one laughing. "And I want a pony, but you don't see any horse shit around here do you?"
A searing pain striped across her lower back, followed by a trickle of wetness, but she had too much adrenaline pumping for it to make a dent.
Did I just get knifed?
"Hey! You! Get away from her!" a voice shouted from not too far away, and the sound of advancing footsteps galloping toward her grew louder until they ended with a dull thud.
The presence at her back disappeared and she could hear a commotion, but she kept her eyes firmly on the perp in front of her. "You just couldn't wait in the car, could you?"
"I ain't a wait-in-the-car kinda guy." Weevil dragged the the Homeless Santa into sight by the top of his ear, then roughly shoved him in the direction of the meth-head.
Veronica greeted her business partner with an amused smile. "Always gotta be the hero."
I can't believe Weevil blew off my request! Then again, I guess should be thankful he cares enough to hit the 'ignore' button when I need it.
He'd better not let this get to his head. What am I saying? Of course he will.
"I am who I am, Vee." He winked one set of his long lashes at her. "Now, why don't you go get what you came for? These nice guys aren't gonna give me any trouble while you're gone, are you?"
Homeless Santa, who was nursing a bloody nose with the edge of his sleeve, shook his head aggressively, while the meth-head remained frozen in fear.
"Glad to hear it." He smiled and crossed his arms over his chest.
A trickle of blood dripped down her back into the crack of her behind, and she tried to angle her body away from Weevil to prevent him from noticing it. She knew she wouldn't get this chance again, and couldn't risk her friend calling the whole thing off in lieu of a trip to the hospital.
Veronica lifted the key over her head again, approached locker #88, and slid the piece of metal into the hole until all of the teeth meshed together and the lock turned.
She wrenched the stiff door open, revealing a large cookie jar shaped like a lion.
Oh Leo, if I didn't already know this was the right locker...
Lifting the lid, she peered inside, and found what appeared to be a small external hard drive.
Before she had a chance to examine her haul, two rent-a-cop security guards ran across the main room of the station in her direction. She shoved the lion into her messenger bag and slammed the locker door hard, then pulled her badge from her pocket, while still retaining a solid grip on the gun. "FBI."
Both men slowed their gait and stared in shock at the tiny agent in front of them.
"Oh...we thought you were getting gang-raped or something," the taller one said with disappointment, glancing fleetingly at Weevil, before returning his gaze to Veronica.
"Good response time," she said dryly. "So, which one of you yahoos has a walkie?"
The shorter guard gestured to his utility belt. "We both do, but they only talk to each other."
And people wonder why bus stations are always a hotbed for criminal activity.
Without asking, Veronica yanked the handcuffs from each of their belts and tossed them to Weevil one-by-one. "Call Keith Mars and tell him that his daughter has two presents for him that she'd appreciate him holding on to for her. If either of these cockroaches escapes before being booked down at the police station, I'll be very angry."
Weevil wrinkled his nose and held back a smirk. "You wouldn't like her when she's angry."
"You're Veronica Mars?" The taller man looked starstruck, and she arched her brow quizzically in response. "I went to Pan. You were kind of a legend there...Betty."
The shorter guard snickered.
"Looks like you got a fan club goin' on." Weevil waggled his eyebrows at her.
Veronica rolled her eyes and started walking toward the exit. "Oh God, you're going to be impossible all afternoon now."
"You know it!"
Now, just a quick phone call and then a trip to the ER. My days were never this full back East. We used to spend days staking out a location, and often came back with empty hands.
She pulled her phone from her pocket and hit #4 on her speed dial. It barely rang once before the call connected. "You busy?"
"Good morning to you too, Bond," Mac drawled through Veronica's Bluetooth earpiece.
"Sorry, I'm just in the middle of something." She looked over her shoulder at the perps, whom Weevil was forcing to their knees as the guards watched in awe.
"When aren't you?"
She shrugged her shoulders. "Fair enough."
"So, which law would you like me to break today? Security breech? Illegal movement of funds? Creating an artificial police record for a girl you hate?"
"Actually...I'm on the right side of the law, now. I've got a badge and everything to prove it."
Mac snorted her laughter. "For the sake of this call, we'll go with that."
"Q, my dear..." Veronica peered into her bag and stroked the top of the lion's head with her fingertips. "I've got an itch that only you can scratch."
The phone was silent for a moment until Mac nervously cleared her throat. "Funny you should say that...because I was thinking the exact same thing about you."
"You've got to be fucking kidding me!" Weevil's voice echoed across the hall and Veronica shut her eyes at his startled tone.
She looked down and noticed rivulets of blood running from her lower back to her feet, leaving a long trail behind her.
Now, she would really be getting an earful from him, there was no way around it.
She reached around and felt the shallow, three inch cut that Homeless Santa carved just above her left kidney and groaned. It wasn't serious, but she knew she wouldn't catch any less hell for letting it happen.
It'll be a miracle if Logan doesn't chain me to the refrigerator door after this.
"I'll call you back." Veronica quickly disconnected the call and shoved the phone in her pocket, before continuing to walk out through the exit door into the rising wind.
Duncan stood patiently in the bare room at the courthouse, as Keith shackled his legs together.
The older man's expression was pained as he clicked the lock into place. "I'm really sorry about this, son. Sometimes, the law doesn't always get it right."
"It's okay, Sheriff Mars. I knew what I was risking when I took Lilly in the first place."
And what Veronica was risking by helping me...
"Still..." He shook his head in frustration and gently patted the side of his calf. "I hate that you're going through this. Despite my feelings about you involving my daughter in it, had it been me in your shoes...I would've done the exact same thing." He looked up into the face of his daughter's former boyfriend and smiled.
A knock sounded on the outside of the door and Duncan's stomach clenched hard in response.
He instantly missed the older man's calming touch as Keith rose from the floor to open the door.
"Hi sheriff. Am I interrupting?" a female voice asked from beyond the wall.
"A welcome interruption, if anything." Keith held out his hand to greet her.
Duncan noticed an elegant, olive-toned hand grasp one of the sheriff's and shake it lightly.
"Have you taken him down there yet?"
She sounded familiar, but he couldn't quite place the voice.
"Nope. Was he granted a last minute reprieve or something?" Keith asked with a hopeful edge to his voice.
"I'm not even supposed to be here, officially." The woman tittered nervously. "I'm trying my best, believe me, but the DA won't budge on this. He said something about not wanting to look soft on the rich."
Who is that?
Keith rolled his eyes. "Six months isn't exactly Alcatraz."
She let loose an anxious laugh. "The whole thing is absurd. He's the girl's father, for goodness sake. Things like this make me wonder why I ever went to law school."
"You'll make a great DA one day, and then you can change the system instead of fighting it. Don't get discouraged, we'll think of something." He patted her arm softly and opened the door a little wider to allow her to pass, then signaled to Duncan that he'd be just outside the room.
Duncan's gaze traveled up a pair of shapely legs, lingering on the toned middle and generous breasts of a torso, before finally reaching a face that could rival a Botticelli.
Carmen Ruiz. Jesus, how did I never notice her before?
She tried to smile and appear upbeat, but her emotions betrayed her. "Hey. How are you holding up?"
"As well as can be expected, I guess." Duncan gestured to his leg shackles.
She brought one of her hands to her mouth and her face became hard. "This isn't right. It's unbelievable that we're treating you like a criminal, when you saved your child from an abusive home. We should be patting fathers like you on the back instead of punishing them."
He wondered for a moment if Carmen knew from experience what Lilly might have endured if she'd been left in the Mannings' care.
She did let that asshole Tad push her around for a long time. Then again, maybe she's just a bleeding heart?
Her eyes burned with such indignant anger, that he was almost afraid to meet them with his own – but he forced himself to – and immediately recognized it for the mistake it was.
Oh God.
Duncan's heart rate sped up and pressure began to build in the center of his chest, making it difficult to breathe. He wondered if it were possible to infiltrate a person's mind with only a look. "Thank you."
She smiled at him, which only made the strangled feeling increase.
What the hell is happening to me?
"This may be over for the DA, but it's not over for me." Carmen walked across the room toward Duncan and he involuntarily held his breath. "You still have people fighting for you, Duncan. The law is a tricky thing. This door might be locked, but it's quite possible somebody left a window open. If I've learned anything, it's that there's always a loophole. Hopefully, I can find it for you without getting fired."
He swallowed thickly and wondered what her hair would feel like between his fingers. "Why are you doing this? Aren't you supposed to be playing for the other side?"
"I'm on the side of justice, wherever that may be." Carmen held one of his cuffed hands and he felt an electric shock to his groin.
Fuck, she's hot.
"We spent seven years in school together, Duncan. I know what kind of person you are, how you treated people. I know you have a good heart."
"You're...you're...thank you for that." His heart beat loudly in his ears.
Real articulate. She's sure to be wowed by your intellect now, buddy.
"I figured you could use a friend on the inside. Just do me a favor and keep it under wraps. I like my job, so shh..." She lifted a finger to her plush lips and pressed it against them, making Duncan wonder what it would be like to kiss her.
You're on your way to prison dude, this is not a honor students mixer.
"I can use all the friends I can get. I'm new in town, remember?"
She chuckled softly at his joke, forgetting to release his hand. "I can usually get in to see prisoners we've dealt with directly, so if you need anything at all, have the guards send word to me."
Duncan's eyes widened at the kind offer. "I don't know what to say, other than you're pretty amazing for risking your career just to check up on me. I wouldn't want you to get in trouble."
"You can owe me one," she teased.
His blue eyes sparkled like gems at her nearness. A rich guy like him in prison was probably a dead man walking, but he hadn't felt more alive in years. "It would be my pleasure to be in your debt, Carmen."
Stop thinking pornographic thoughts!
She bit her bottom lip and shook her head. "It's the right thing to do. Your daughter is a beautiful girl, she looks so much like your sister."
He nodded in agreement. "That's what everyone says."
"But I also see a little of Meg in her, too." Carmen had a far-away look in her eyes. "She would have been really proud of you for what you're doing."
Something about her words made him choke up. "I hope so. I really hope that's true."
Her stricken face reflected his circumstance and a tear rolled down her cheek.
"Oh my God, I'm so embarrassed." She wiped the tear away with her hand and sniffed a few times until she had control.
Duncan's heart swelled with affection for her. He'd traveled the globe for years now, and rarely had he met some one with a nature as pure as Carmen's. For certain, she was bombarded on a daily basis with disappointment and horror, exposed to the depraved actions by the absolute muck of society through her job, but she still managed to remain unaffected. "Don't be. If I could do that without looking like a huge wuss, I totally would."
Her brow furrowed. "I wouldn't think you were a wuss."
Keith popped his head in the door. "It's time, honey. I'm sorry."
Not as sorry as I am.
Carmen took one last look at Duncan, nodded, and turned to leave. "I'll see you in a few days," she said faintly as she left the room.
Keith strolled in casually and smirked at him. "She seemed nice."
"She certainly did." Duncan's eyes remained on the door as it slowly closed behind her.
A/N - So...how was it? Love it? Hate it? Meh?
- Duncan's big story is coming up very soon and believe me, it's intense. What do you think of Carmen for DK? I watched M.A.D. the other day, and something about her reminded me of a Latina Meg. In fact, she was almost more Meg than Meg, IMO.
- I promise that the dinner with Keith is coming up, there's just so much to squeeze into these chapters, that I keep running out of space!
- Weevil is headed back to the River Stix soon to fake romance Molly.
- Do you think the Fitzpatrick's were responsible for the bus station attack or somebody else?
- What's on Leo's tiny hard drive? (that sounded vaguely dirty)
I can't wait to read your reviews, so if you have the time and the energy, please let me know what you think!
PS - I seriously could not have gotten this chapter out without silverlining2k6. That bus station scene kicked my ass as badly as Weevil kicked Homeless Santa's ass. You'd be reading an 'insert fight sequence here' sign if it weren't for her.