Title Conceivable
Chapter 11 What Happens After Revalations?
Author Devylish
Pairing Um, MaDi and DoVe
Rating R
Words 5330
Disclaimer All publicly recognizable characters, settings, plot, etc. are the property of the creators of the TV show Veronica Mars. Any original characters, settings and plots are the property of devylish. devylish is in no way associated with the TV show Veronica Mars and no copyright infringement is intended. This work is an amateur fan effort and no profit is being made.
AN unbeta'd AN Please note, THIS chapter is HUGE…. So even though it took awhile…. Bwadah! Erh, you'll probably get a tiny epilogue sometime after this, but other than that…. This is all she wrote folks! Thanks for being such great!!!! Fanfic readers!

MadiDoveMadiDoveMadiDove

"Dude, are you okay?" Dick wandered over to the squad car still parked outside of Neptune's Pearl Jewelers.

It wasn't that Dick really cared, but, well, Lamb hadn't looked good when he left the shop ten minutes earlier. He hadn't looked good at all. As a matter of fact, he looked a lot like Dick did before he faced a wave on new water. The kind of frightened, self-conscious, look that was framed by the knowledge that you were going to jump into the water anyway. Do or die time.

"I'm fine Casablancas. I'm fine." Lamb's response was terse, in part because he was embarrassed at being caught moping in his car by Dick Casablancas, and in part, because he was lying. He wasn't fine. He was anything but.

"Cool. Just thought I'd ask, man." Dick turned around and headed toward his own car. He got all of 2 feet away before Lamb interrupted his stealthy escape.

"You know, I saw you and Veronica together… several times, in the past few weeks." His voice was strained even to his own hearing, and he cleared his throat. "You guys had your hands all over each other. You definitely looked coupley and… shit. It… it looked real."

Dick turned around, "Yeah, the hugging stuff, that was all part of Mac's plan." He shuddered. "I'm still having fucking nightmares."

At the look of confused disbelief that flitted across Lamb's face, Dick clarified… unnecessarily. "You know, cuz of the having to touch Mars and shit."

"Yeah, right." Lamb picked his keys up off of the seat and cracked his neck. "Well I need to go do… something." Like bang my head against the office wall for a while. Or Find a tequila bottle with my name on it. Or –

"Holy fucking shit Batman! You have the hots for Mars!" Dick barked before Lamb could put his keys in the ignition.

"What?! What?!" Lamb looked around the empty parking lot anxiously. He then looked at Dick squarely. "No. NO! I don't have the hots – I mean – why would you even think…."

"Ho. Lee. Shiiiiiitttt! Fuck me!" Dick started to chuckle and within a few seconds he was doubled over with laughter as all of the pieces came together in his head.

Moving quicker than most people thought him capable of, Lamb climbed out of his car and stalked toward Dick. Glancing around the still empty lot, he growled. "Casablancas, now would be a really good time for you to be quiet."

Hands against his thighs, Dick hiccupped his laughter to a slow chuckle. "I'm sorry, but Dude! That so explains everything…. And it's fucking funny!" Dick started to laugh again, only stopping when Lamb took another menacing step toward him.

"Look, Casablancas, Dick, I don't know what you think you know, but --."

"I do have to say, I pity you man. Mars is a fucking handful. I can barely – hell, I CAN'T – handle Mac, and she's sane. Your girl… shit."

"Again, Casablancas, I don't know what you're talkin –"

"Oh c'mon!" Dick stared at Lamb. "Dude, they say the first step of recovery is admitting you have a problem. And you, dude, you have a problem."

"Casablancas –"

"You know, Ronnie bitched about how you just kept showing up EVERYWHERE and hounding her about who the father of the baby was, and we couldn't figure out why. Why you were being so diligent about an unwed mother and shit like that. And then, when you overheard me and Mackie talkin', and my babe thought quick on her feet and claimed I was the dad to V's supposed spawn; Dude, you nearly bit my head off trying to make certain I planned on 'doing the right thing'." Dick paused for a breath.

"That doesn't prove anything Casablancas, I –"

"And then you STILL wouldn't stop following Mars around after you found out I was her kid's dad."

Dick shook his head in sudden, utter understanding. "Dude, I use to follow Mac around like that. Until she finally agreed to date me. And then I got a little lovin' and it was all good. The lovin' makes it all better."

Lamb blanched. "We don't know one another well enough for me to know that information Casablancas."

"Dude, I'm just sayin', when the girl gives you the go ahead, and you get a little somethin' somethin', everything starts to look a little brighter." Dick bit back a laugh at his next thought, "Dude, if you ever get any," he thrust his hips forward a couple of times, "lovin' from Mars, you'll be whipped, but happily so. I've seen it happen."

"Uh, yeah." Lamb broke Dick's gaze.

Dick was silent for second before he crowed – loudly. "Son of a bitch! You've got to be fucking kidding me! Dude! Are you," he did the hip thrusting thing again, "getting it on with Ronnie?"

"If you do that one more time, I swear to god I'm going to bring you in for lewd and lascivious behavior."

Dick held his hands up placatingly. "Whoa. Whoa. Back off Lone Ranger…" Dick kept quiet for two seconds this time before he gave in to his curiosity. "So how far did V let you go?"

Lamb shot back defensively, "You and Cindy MacKenzie? Really? I always thought she was smarter than that."

Dick chuckled, "Yeah, she is smarter than that, but, lucky for me, she seems to have a blind spot when it comes to me." Dick shoved his hands in his pockets and looked at the ground as he shuffled his feet. "So you and V huh?"

Lamb sighed and rubbed his hand along the back of his neck. "Neptune is one fucked up place, isn't it?"

"You can say that again."

MadiDoveMadiDoveMadiDove

"Mackie? Macstar!? Baby?!" Dick burst through the door of the apartment and was greeted by the sight of candles EVERYWHERE, and the scent of something tomato-y and cheesey coming out of the kitchen. He leaned backwards, and opened the door verifying he'd entered the right apartment. Yup. He was home.

"Mac?"

"Hey Stud."

He turned to the left and saw his girl smiling, nervously, as she leaned against the wall. She was wearing a cute little white frilly apron, over something blue and slinky that looked like a nightie and robe combo of some sort; neither of which he'd ever seen before.

"Heeeeeyyyyy." He couldn't hide the stupid smirk that had taken residence over his face. Mac was looking all cute and sexy – a combination that was hard for most people to balance – but not for his girl. She was amazing. "You look great." He took a couple of steps toward her, "and the place looks and smells delicious."

"The place looks delicious?" She raised a brow teasingly.

"Yeah, and don't' forget the part where I mentioned you look great."

She giggled despite her nervousness.

"So," Dick came to a stop right in front of Mac and lifted his hand to the streak of platinum in her hair. "What's with all of the deliciousness?"

Will I ever be able to think straight when I'm near him? Or will I always feel this … dizzy and light… and happy? She closed the last foot between them and wrapped her arms around Dick's waist, laying her head against his chest. "It's an apology."

His voice rumbled as he spoke, "An apology? For what?" He wrapped his arms around Mac and pulled her closer, "Oh… wait, cuz you wouldn't let me do that thing in the bedroom the other night?" He pulled back slightly and grinned. "Does that mean you've changed your mind?"

Mac whacked Dick on the chest lightly, "Um, ewwwww no. Helllllla no. Not happening. Ever." Mac tucked her head back into Dick's chest. "Probably."

He chuckled and held her close again.

"So, you mentioned something about an apology?"

She mumbled against his body. "Yes."

"For?"

"Being a bad girlfriend."

"Oooooh! 'The bad girlfriend', I like it when we play that!" Dick felt Mac's shoulders start to shake with laughter and he rubbed his hands down her back. When her laughter didn't subside, he backed away from her, lifted her head, and realized she wasn't laughing, she was crying.

"Mac, baby… honey, I was just kidding; we don't have to play any games. I was just messing with you. Baby," He brushed a tear off of her cheek. "Baby, don't cry. I can handle anything except for your tears."

Mac sniffle-laughed, "Yeah well, unfortunately, for you, I am a hormone factory and can't seem to do anything except for cry and overanalyze, and, and, cry, and…" A fresh torrent of tears burst out of Mac, ripping into Dick's like a dagger.

"Baby, you're killing me here. What's wrong? I'm rich, I can fix almost anything."

The sniffle-laugh greeted him again.

"Can you fix me?"

"Fix…," He grabbed Mac's shoulders and tilted her away from him. "Is something wrong with you, or… the baby?"

"Wha-? No. No! Dick, we're fine. The baby's fine. I'm fine, except for the fact that I'm stupid."

He lifted his hand to the side of her face and looked her in the eyes. "Baby, you're the smartest person I've ever met in my life."

She toyed with one of the buttons on Dick's shirt. "You musn't know a lot of people."

"I'll have you know that I know, like, a ton of people. I'm a very popular guy."

Mac snorted delicately, then, her voice dropping to volume so quiet that Dick almost didn't hear what she said, she whispered, "If I'm so smart, why did it take me so long to realize you love me?"

"Well maybe because you …" Dick froze. "Dude! Did you fucking say what I think you just said?"

Still not looking him the eye, and still playing with that obviously exciting button, Mac pouted just a bit. "Kinda depends on what you thought you heard…, I guess."

Dick took a deep breath. He'd never actually said the words to Mac. Never told her he loved her, in so many words. But it hadn't been because he didn't want to. Fuck, for the past nine months, it had been eating him alive from the inside out; the words clawing at his gut in an angry attempt to escape. The only thing that had stopped from actually SAYING the words was: Mac. And Mac's reaction.

And then there was the fact that at first he hadn't been positive if she cared, even a little bit about him. When he finally got comfortable with the idea that Mac might actually 'like him back' he'd been stupid with excitement. He'd wanted to shout his love to the world. Problem was, the most important person in the equation, Mac, wouldn't believe him if he told her he cared. She wouldn't believe him because she couldn't trust him. Well, she could; she just didn't know that. She didn't think she could trust him. Not after Cassidy. Cassidy proved to her that men, Casablancas men in particular, couldn't be trusted.

Dick would take a knife to his own balls before he'd hurt Mac, but saying that wasn't the same thing as proving it. There really were no words -- not even those tree little/big words -- that could convince his girl that she meant more to him than anything in the world. No words.

So that left actions. And short of actually separating his balls from his body, Dick had done all he could think of during their relationship to show Mac just how much she meant to him. Gifts (until she set up the damn gift rules), dinners out, he even gotten a handle on his drinking. All as ways of showing Mac that she was the one. The one for him.

And now she got it. She'd heard his wordless declaration. Or, at least he thought she had. "Before I go all Scooby-doo – Scooby Snack happy here, did you just say that you know that I love you?"

Mac gulped and took her big girl pill. Lifting her eyes she looked Dick in the eye and squeaked out a small/big, "Yes.?..?"

A smirk turned into a grin, and then into a smile, and then Dick reached for Mac, scooping her up in his arms and swinging her around in a dizzying circle. "Woooooo! Wooooooooooo!"

"Dick!" Mac screamed then giggled as he swung them both around in loopy, happy, random circles; dancing them around the room with abandon. "Dick," Mac grinned against his neck, "okay, pregnant woman here. Getting dizzy and dizzy isn't good!"

"Sorry babe!" He lowered Mac to the ground but kept a firm grip on her, "I just…, it's just that… Dude, I love you." He said the words with a smile that touched his eyes… his ears… heck, Mac would lay bets that it touched the back of his head.

Biting the inside of her cheek in an attempt to keep herself from laughing at Dick's irresistible happiness, she responded, "Now that we've established that fact, I guess we just need to find a way for me to tell you that I love you, and then we'll be all set."

If she'd thought that his smile was big before, she'd thought wrong.

"Tell you what babe," he tugged her hips closer to his, "why don't we work our way up to you 'telling me you love me'. You can, uh, just start off by showing me." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively. He leaned down and whispered in her ears, "You know they say actions speak louder than words."

Mac shivered ever so slightly, "Veggie lasagna, a little wine for you, a little apple juice for me, then… I'll see if I can find a way to start showing you my love."

Dick countered with a leer, "how about we practice the love showing, then do the wine/juice, and finish up with the lasagna?"

Mac patted her stomach and raised an eye.

Dick released a good natured sigh, and gave in. "Okay, okay, eating for two… baby on board… I got it. Food, drink… then, we will be merry!"

"Good plan Dickie."

He groaned at the nickname and followed her into the kitchen. "So, babe, uh, not that I'm not happy, but, uh, what brought about this sudden realization of what a good catch I am."

Mac chuckled as she bent over and checked the contents of the oven. "Yes, Sweetie, you're the biggest and bestest catfish in the Neptune pond." She turned around with a smile, "Actually, you owe Veronica for my, um, revelation."

"Ronnie!?!!?" Dick spurted out some of the bottled water he'd just taken a sip of. "Dude, she hates me! She wouldn't point you in my direction unless you had a gun in your hand."

"She doesn't hate you Dick," Mac grabbed a pot holder and turned off the oven. "She's just… protective of her small enclave of friends. Those who dare to enter said enclave, need to pass rigorous testing and well…honey, you were kinda mean to her in high school."

Dick frowned. "I was young and immature then."

"Four years ago?"

"Four years can make all the difference in the world." Dick chugged back more water as Mac set the lasagna pan on the stove. Then suddenly he remembered the news. The big news. "Oh My Fucking God! Dude! You so will NOT believe the fucking intelligence I have about Ronnie!"

Mac jumped slightly then turned to face Dick with a smirk. "When did you become a member of the Gossip Girls?"

"Dude, when the gossip got this good! You will not believe who Veronica has been bumping uglies with!"

Mac stood on tip toe and pulled plates and glasses out of the shelf to her left. "Sheriff Lamb?"

The room was so silent Mac had to turn around to make certain Dick was still there.

"Dude, it's so NOT cool when you burst my bubble like that."

Mac giggled and contritely headed over to Dick. "I'm sorry Dickie." She gave him a quick peck on the lips, "Tell you what, while the lasagna is settling, you get the wine, I'll get the juice, and we'll go in the living room and compare our sheriff/armature detective gossip."

Dick's eyes lit up, although he shrugged casually. "Sure babe, if that would make you happy."

MadiDoveMadiDoveMadiDove

Life equals change. A fact Veronica thought she'd reconciled herself with during the past seven years. There was life as you knew it – NOW. And then, there was the next second. And everything could change that quickly. Everything. Veronica knew this. But still… there were a few constants she'd allowed herself to embrace; to have faith in through the years. A few unalterable facts:

1) Her dad loved her and would - without a second thought – lay his life down for her.
2) Backup was the best dog in the world; bar none. There was no competition.
3) Mac, Wallace… and Logan were… good friends. Great friends. Reliable, caring, put themselves in danger – true friends.
4) Lamb and Veronica? Oil and Vinegar. Hitler and Chamberlin. White and Black. Antimatter and Matter…, you get the idea.

See. Unalterable facts.

Only, well, Veronica was pretty certain Hitler and Chamberlin never kissed…. And she was pretty certain physicists still believed that matter and antimatter could not happily coexist in the same space at the same time.

So how the hell could she explain the moments of… insane bliss she'd experienced, not once, but THRICE, in Don Lamb's arms?

She couldn't.

Mac's suggestion? The 'like factor'? The: he likes you: you like him factor? Yeah… NO. It unsettled Veronica. It made her nervous. Physics suicide/relationship suicide dictated that if matter touched antimatter or Veronica liked/was liked by Don Lamb the world would end. On this plane of existence, some things just couldn't happen.

Which brought her back full circle to: What. The. Hell?

Her head was spinning after her lunch with Mac and she decided she needed therapy.

Woman therapy.

Therapy step one – shopping. Black sling backs. Leather, peep toe. On sale and fabulous.

Still feeling confused and overwhelmed.

Therapy step two – pastries. Dillon's chocolate filled croissants. Bought 3, ate 2; don't want to be a pig.

Still confused and overwhelmed.

Therapy step three – Drinking. The Sand Bar. Large TnT sitting in an icy glass.

Looking down at the peep toes of her new shoes, peeking out from beneath the hem of her jeans, Veronica thought that step three MIGHT be working. I might have to move step 3 up to step 2 or 1. And then she remembered Leann. Okay, only one or two drinks Mars, and then… then….

"So… I guess the 'not pregnant' rumor is true."

Veronica looked up, not really surprised to find Don Lamb standing before her. Standing before her and looking – yummy. He was wearing a fitted black t-shirt and dark denim jeans. Simple, but oh so effective.

And I didn't just think that? Did I? Sigh.

"It's just a sod-" she started weakly.

"Don't bother." Lamb raised his hand gestured at the bartender for 2 more drinks. Settling into the chair across from Veronica, he continued. "I know you're not pregnant." His eyes lasered in on her downcast face; watching the light play across the blues of her eyes, watching it weave through the wispy golden strands of hair that framed her cheeks.

Suddenly overwhelmingly tired – of everything - Veronica threw back the last of her drink and… just gave in. "So how'd you find out?"

A shadow flitted over Lamb's eyes. "Casablancas."

"Dumb Dick." Veronica groaned.

Their drinks arrived and she focused on her glass. Stirring the clear icy liquid in her glass with the straw and focusing on anything/everything except for the man sitting across from her. She fished out the lime that had settled at the bottom of her glass and squeezed the juice into the liquor and seltzer. Dropping the used rind on to a napkin, she licked her fingers, the tart sweet juice of the lime making her lips purse, while the scent of lime – like a perfume – clung to her skin.

The soft sounds of the other bar patrons, talking, laughing. The sharp tinkling of glass and ice. The muted buzz of the basketball game on the TV…. And the sound of her own heart beating in her chest. She focused on each of them until nervousness forced her to speak. "Things were so much easier when I hated you."

Don stopped staring at Veronica's lips and looked at her eyes, eyes that hadn't met his since he walked up to her. "You don't hate me anymore?"

"I should. You're a 6' 1" pain in my ass. A jerk. An idiot." She looked up, "I could go on, but, it wouldn't be polite."

"And politeness is definitely what you're known for." His tone was dry.

"I can be polite!" She pouted slightly.

"Unh huh."

Veronica flipped him off.

"Yeah, such a lady."

She groaned. "Why do you know just which buttons to push?!"

In the blink of an eye, Don's mind moved in directions it shouldn't. He could imagine… remember pushing one or two buttons of hers that seemed really effective. He felt his cock jump and he cleared his throat self consciously. "I'm not the only one with button pushing skills."

Veronica forced herself to breath slowly. She forced herself to NOT think about his hands and his lips and how good they felt. She focused on his neck… studying the faint line of his 5'oclock shadow…. I don't want him. I don't want him. I can't want him. This is insanity.

"We need to talk." His voiced interrupted her little internal mantra.

"I thought that was what we were doing."

"No, we've been sniping. And," he let his eyes drift down to her neck, "biting at one another."

She remained silent. And Lamb shook his head in frustration. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out some cash, threw it on the table, and stood up and walked to Veronica's side. Reaching down, he wrapped his fingers around her slender arm and tugged at her.

"What the hell are you doing!?" She hissed and pulled her arm out of his grasp.

"You're such a chicken shit Mars."

It was a dare. And she hated dares. He knew she hated dares.

Fuck.

"Keep your hands to yourself," she mumbled quietly as she pushed away from the table.

Proceeding him out of the bar, she slowly built her defenses. This is insane. He's not hot. I don't want him. There is no 'like' between us.

As they filtered out into the sun, she went on the offensive. "I still hate you."

"I thought we just established that you really just 'wish' you hated me."

She turned to face him in the parking lot, an unbidden plea in her voice. "Wasn't it easier… for you too? I mean, when I knew – when you knew – that no matter what, you could rely on me for pure unadulterated hatred? Versus… versus," her eyes dropped to the pavement. "Whatever the fuck this" she waved her hand between the two of them "crap is?"

Don placed his hand on Veronica's elbow and steered her to her Saturn. "Definitely easier. Everything prior to these past few months was easier." He held his hand out, "Keys."

"See this…'this' is abnormal. A year ago, you would have waited for me to start my ignition and back my car out, and then you would have gleefully turned on your sirens and arrested me for driving while under the influence." She reached into her back pocket and pulled out her keys. "Now, now you're being all… chivalrous." She dropped the keys into his hands, her eyes flitting back up to his. "You're confusing me."

Guiding her to the passenger door, Lamb unlocked and opened the car door for her, "You're confused? What about me?!"

"Yeah, well, confusion is a natural state of being for you; I'd think you'd be use to it." She groaned when he simply laughed at the soft zing versus sneering back at her. Change. She hated change.

As Lamb let back the seat, climbed into the car, and started the engine, Veronica licked her lips and blurted out, "Do you still hate me?"

He was quiet and she wondered, briefly, if he'd heard her question. Unfortunately, asking it once had taken too much of her strength, she couldn't ask him again. She just… couldn't.

Relief poured through her body when he finally spoke.

"I don't think I ever really hated you."

Her eyes slashed in his direction, "Bullshit! I've got the proverbial scars to prove you hated me."

He chuckled. "I've been frustrated by you. Angry at you. Plagued by you. Tortured by you. I admit to all of those things, but hate…?"

"You took a lot of pleasure out of torturing me for it not to have been hate." She retorted.

Lamb smiled darkly, "I admit to being a sadistic bastard, but that's not the same as hate."

Veronica turned in her seat and studied him. It was safe since he was occupied with driving. She'd be a liar if she didn't admit he was handsome. His hairline, neat and trim. His jaw, stubborn and strong. His ears. Jesus Christ, I'm admiring his ears. Something is seriously wrong with me! She turned back in her seat. Apparently looking at him isn't safe in any circumstances. She distracted herself with more conversation. "So, no hate huh?"

He was silent again. This time it wasn't thought filled silence, this time it was an answer.

"Well just so there's no confusion, I've been busy hating you all these years."

He smiled.

Veronica pushed on. Maybe further than she really wanted to go. "Why didn't you believe us?"

It was a double edged question. Blades sharpened for cutting into flesh and mind from both sides. She was asking about his lack of faith in Keith when everything happened with Lily Kane. But she was also asking about his failure to believe her claim of rape. Shit. He took a deep breath and addressed first things first.

"I didn't believe Keith because it simply didn't feel right to me. His take on Jake as the killer… it didn't sit right." He turned to Veronica, "and do I need to remind you that he was wrong?"

"No." Veronica shuddered slightly as she pictured Aaron Echolls' twisted angry face.

"And you." His voice dropped, "you I can't trust."

"What?!"

"Veronica, you're a fucking pit-bull. You grab on to something and you will NOT let go. And when I didn't agree with Keith's assessment of Lily's death, you grabbed on to 'Lamb is evil' like it was a blood covered hambone."

"You are evil."

"Well, yeah, but I hadn't shown you that side of me yet." He continued. "How many times have you pointed me in the wrong direction, done something to publically embarrass me, attacked me in any way you could, just so you could 'stick it to me'?" He glanced at her profile again. "You're hard to trust… unless you're in the Mars' inner circle. And forget about it if you're an enemy… you better wear armor and a cup when you go to bed, cuz there's NO telling when the pit-bull is gonna attack."

"Pit-bulls can be very nice dogs." She spoke these words while inside she wondered just how much of what he'd said was true. What's my personal code? If someone attacks me or mine, I don't forgive, I get even.

"Uh huh." He turned onto Debmount Ave. and added, "All of that being said, I wish I'd believed you. I would have killed that twerp Cassidy if I'd known he touched you."

Something in his voice made her believe him. Something in his voice and the fact that out of the corner of her eye, she could see his knuckles turning white and pink as he gripped the wheel.

"You wish you had believed me and that you hadn't been such a snark-ass." She muttered.

He echoed with a grin, "…And that I hadn't been such a snark-ass."

Suddenly it occurred to Veronica (master amateur detective) that she was in a car, with Lamb, and she was clueless as to, "Where are we going?"

He snorted then responded, "My place."

MadiDoveMadiDoveMadiDove

I'm in like with you
My heart's beginning to
Slightly overrule my head
Oh no, oh no
My self-control
It won't hold up for very long
Oh no, oh no
You touch my soul
I can't help falling too fast for you
Who knows if we are ready to make this something?
Who knows?
Maybe this is love…
Who Knows ~Natasha Bedingfield~

The rest of their ride took place in a tenseness that was tactile. Tangible. Almost painful in its grip of the two of them.

It was funny how they could, each of them, handle anger; but give either of them an emotion that was softer, less sharp, sweeter… and they were scared shitless.

The big tough sheriff, and the never lose detective. Novices each of them when it came to… oh, let's just say it: Love.

MadiDoveMadiDove

Lamb pulled into the underground garage beneath his apartment, parking Veronica's car in his spot.

He turned off the engine and let the car fall into an electric hush. He moved his hands back to the wheel, locking them into place at 10 and 3 as thoughts chased through his mind. Dumbest idea I've ever had? What exactly was I thinking would happen? Why'd I bring her here? Okay, I KNOW why I brought her here, but… fuck! It's goddamn Veronica Mars. This is the shit of dreams. Or fucked up nightmares. She's going to taser me if I even look her direction. Forget the fact that I've… we've… already kind of been here before. Close. And touching. And kissing. Fuck!

Okay, what's he doing? Why is he just sitting there? Why hasn't he gotten out, or reached for me, or…? And I just asked myself why he isn't touching me. Veronica groaned to herself. Fuck fuck fuck. I do like him. Like, lust, want… She even thought she glimmered, somewhere in the back of her mind and gut and heart, the shimmery crush-glow that she'd had for him when she was a kid. The crush-glow was jumping up and down waving fucking pom-poms and a banner that said: Don Lamb – what a prince.

She knew he wasn't a prince, but, he… he got her. And she got him. They knew each other's buttons. Good and bad. Off and… she felt a flutter in her belly, definitely on. And he's still just fucking sitting there!

Did he change his mind?

And then she saw his grip on the wheel, tightening and loosening. Black and white, matter and antimatter. Him and her. He hadn't changed his mind.

He'd taken the initiative. He'd gotten them here. He'd made a move. Veronica screwed up her courage. Guess it's only fair if I do my part.

She slid her hand down to the buckle of her seatbelt and 'clicked' it open. The sound was huge in such a small space. Reaching across the gear shift Veronica removed the keys from the steering column before she opened the passenger door and climbed out of the car.

Don let his head drop back against the head rest. Should have made a move. Should have forced her to see that the two of us were fucked up alone, and fucked up together… but at least, together, we're --

Opening the driver's side door Veronica let her hand settle on Lamb's forearm. Her fingers edged down along the muscles, muscles that moved beneath her touch, until they reached his hand. She curled her fingers around his. A peace offering. A step toward the future. A test of the matter/antimatter theory.

"I've always wondered what Don Lamb's lair looks like – from the inside. Wanna show me?"