Just We Two, a veronica mars fanfic

Title: Just We Two
Author: Batdz Angel
Disclaimer: I don't own Veronica Mars; the show and the characters are property of Rob Thomas and UPN. Of course, I wouldn't be adverse to a particular bald actor coming to my home and staying as long as he wore the jacket and had the bike. No? Drat! I also don't own the song lyrics quoted here or in the title; they belong to the god Billy Idol. Rock on, Billy! Rock on!
Pairing/Character: WeeVer friendship/romance, mentions of Lilly/Weevil romance, Logan/V friendship and Duncan/V relationship.
Rating: R for languages and sexual situations.
Archive: Just drop me an e-mail or message on my Livejournal and let me know where. I'm always up for sites dedicated to my OTP.
Summary: Spent the summer running, just we two.
Spoilers: Up to "Donut Run".
Author's Note: I needed to get back into the WeeVer fanfic. So, here's what came of it,

"I need to get away."

The words fall from her lips before she can stop them and he looks at her with sinfully dark eyes before shrugging and asking, "Where you wanna go?" as he tosses back another shot. She tilts her head back as she stares up at the starlit sky and says, "As far away from here as possible."

"Wouldn't your boy be pissed off about it?" he asks as he hands her another shot and she shrugs because she isn't entirely certain Duncan would care or notice. He's too busy with the baby and fighting for custody and basically asking her for nothing, even when she offers. At her lack of answers, he snorts and takes another shot of tequila.

They had run into each other after weeks of pretending the other didn't exist; he had been carrying a bottle of tequila with two shot glasses in a paper bag and she had been carryin guilt once again on her shoulders. The incident in the bathroom had pretty much shaken what she had figured was solid business relationship of sorts but everything had changed-

Because Weevil had kissed her, hard and bruising and possessive in a way that no one had ever kissed her before; not even Duncan or Logan, and she had kissed him back, pressing herself against him until it was hard to tell where he ended and she started...

"-always wanted to get the hell out of here for a while," he was saying when she tuned back in. "Figured I'd drive around the country on my bike."

"Wouldn't your grandmother worry?" she asks and he snorts as he scrubs a hand over his scalp, replying, "As long as I call regularly, I doubt it." He grins, a splash of white against his dark skin as he adds, "Navarro blood tends to call out for the freedom of no responsibility."

"That's such bullshit," she retorts and he shrugs unrepentantly as he tosses another shot while she fingers hers before gulping it down. It burns her throat and her eyes water as she grimaces, Weevil grinning at her discomfort as he taps the empty bottle and says, "We're all out but-"

"You smell so good," she managed as he trailed his mouth against her neck, sucking delicately at the pulse in her throat. He grunted in reply as he lifted her up against the wall, fingers gripping her slightly as she wriggled against him, hands delving underneath his shirt, scratching against his abs and chest...

"You're not drunk," she observes as she blinks at him blearily and he shrugs again as he throws the bottle against the sand, the thump of it landing making her frown. They sit in a silence that's not awkward but not comfortable either as she studies the sand sifting through her fingers and he studies her studying the sand before saying, "You serious about running away for a while?"

She looks up, eyes wary as she says, "Why?"

"'Cause we should do it," he says seriously and she laughs as she looks at him, half-appalled and half-giddy with alcohol. "What?"

"For real," he says, his eyes smoldering with excitement. "We should do this; get outta this town for a bit; clear our heads."

"You're insane."

"Shit," he throws back as he leans back, his arms bracing him. "If I'm insane, what's that say about you, chica?"

She grins at that and offers, "I'm due for some Prozac..." and he hoots as he kicks his foot at the bottle, causing it to shift slightly in the sand. The waves aren't angry tonight and there isn't a ripple in the water as she picks out a smooth stone hidden in the sand, and says hesitantly, "You really think we should?"

"Why not?"

Why not indeed? She's been feeling stifled for the past few weeks, everything having piled up one after another. Despite her figuring out the truth about Lilly's death, despite her own brush with death at the hands of Aaron Echolls, she knows she isn't who she used to be.

She hasn't been able to figure out how to keep herself sane yet; Duncan tries to help but she knows he doesn't quite understand her anymore...

He has her up against the tile wall, his fingers digging into her hips as she scrubs her hands over his scalp, a groan escaping him at the action. His mouth is busy with hers as she clings to him like a limpet and there are warning bells in her head, asking her what's she going to do to explain this if anyone walks in?

It could be the alcohol or the color of Weevil's skin in the moonlight or even Lilly whispering in her ear but Veronica stares at the ocean and says quietly, "Let's do it."

He glances at her, uncertain he heard right, and says, "Yeah?"

A smile tugs at her lips as she looks back at him. "Yeah."

And that's how she winds up riding on the back of Weevil's bike, five hundred dollars in her pocket, and her backpack full of clothing as they pass a sign that says, Now Leaving Neptune...Come Back Soon! at three-thirty in the morning.

A feeling of something, possibly excitement rides up her spine as she clings to Weevil, the feeling of his back warm and pulsing beneath her cheek as they move swiftly, the wind whipping at their clothing and the sound of Lilly's voice in her ear, whispering, "Guess what Veronica Mars? This is the beginning of your life..."

She writes her father an e-mail after the first week; the phone call she had made the following morning hadn't gone well but she knew her father trusted her. But she's so tired of doing what everyone expects her to do that she tells her father she needs this; she needs to figure herself out and he tells her that he'll send her money as long as she writes him regularly.

She misses him and Backup; they are the only family she has left but the ache is soon a memory as she and Weevil discover the state of California. That first night they drove all the way to Los Angeles without stopping and did the tourist thing on Hollywood Boulevard; he insisted that they visit Disneyland and they rode all of the rides, Weevil's expression filled with childlike glee.

She pulled away as a groan filled the air; ripped from Weevil's throat by the way she ground against him. Shame and embarrassment filled her as she shoved him away, saying, "No. I can't..." but falls silent as she stares into his face. Emotions war inside his eyes; desire and anger flaring briefly before suddenly, he is completely closed off, his eyes growing flat and cold, a wall rearing up so quickly that she momentarily forgets how to breathe.

"Funny," he said tonelessly as he moved to the door, eyes not moving from her own. "That's what Lilly said."

The sound of the door closing causes her to crumble into angry tears.

She wonders how Weevil's childhood was; if he even had a childhood to speak of. She doesn't know much about him, other than the obvious and she suspects it's because she hasn't bothered to ask. So as they sit at a booth in McDonald's she asks, "What was it like, growing up for you?"

He pauses, his dark eyes lifting to meet hers and she meets his gaze evenly as he takes a bite of his burger before saying gruffly, "Why you wanna know?"

"Curiosity," she says with a shrug as she pops a nugget into her mouth. "Satisfy it."

His eyes narrow briefly and she blinks as the double entendre hits her. Cheeks flushing, she mumbles, "Pervert."

A wicked smile lights up Weevil's features and he says, "I didn't say a thing, chica." At her glare, he laughs and leans back against the booth before saying, "My childhood was normal, I guess. Didn't have parents like everyone else if that's what you mean. Grandma raised me since I was born; I didn't know anyone else besides her."

"Where are your parents?" she asks and he shrugs carelessly as he finishes off his burger, stealing a few fries from her own meal. "Probably somewhere in the world," he says, his eyes flickering with sadness briefly but it's gone before she can examine it. "I don't know. I don't care." His lips tighten with those words and she knows what that means; back off, Veronica. This is a subject that doesn't require anymore examination.

They finish eating in silence and he rummages in his pockets before pulling out a map. He spreads it out on the table as she watches, amusement warring with surprise as Weevil begins to tell her where they can go and what they can do. As he talks about the Grand Canyon and Las Vegas, his eyes glitter with an almost maniacal light.

Veronica realizes with a start that no one has ever just been Weevil's friend; he has always been someone's boss, bookie, or hired muscle. Guilt fills her as she remembers the times she had called for a favor and he had agreed without any expectations of having it returned. She watches as he finishes speaking and can't help herself; she leans over and kisses him squarely on the mouth. Surprise flickers in those dark eyes as she does so and when she pulls away, he says quietly, "What was that for, chica?"

She shrugs and smiles without a word.He studies her for a moment but doesn't pursue it, merely rubs a hand over his head and goes back to looking at the map. She asks if they can possibly drive to San Francisco on their way back eventually; she wants to see the Golden Gate and the bay.

He grins and says, "Always wanted to get a tattoo in the City."

The nights and days go by in a blur; they travel east first, towards Texas and she learns soon that Weevil isn't the person she thought he was; he's tough, sure, there isn't any doubt about it. Countless times in rest stops has proven that the bike and tattoos aren't just a look; he's quick to defend her without saying a word, his eyes piercing the intentions of other travelers with a clarity that she realizes he uses only when he needs too. But he's also intelligent, his mind quick to come to a solution and quick to analyze a situation.

It's this intelligence that saves them from spending all their money. He manages to charm the random people they meet in diners and even though they're camping out every night, they're never hungry nor lacking for company.

She's certain Lilly never knew this about him.

They don't speak about Lilly or Felix; their ghosts are tangible enough as it is, hanging over them both in a way that suffocates her and at the same time, keeps her aware of her companion. Lilly is the devil on her shoulder, whispering about Weevil's eyes and his skin, how he looks when he sleeps, saying, "C'mon, Veronica Mars, it's not like you're saving yourself anymore. And who else to have a summer fling with but the bad boy of Neptune?"

But she remembers that moment in the bathroom, remembers how his eyes had darkened with disappointment and sadness, remembered how as he pulled away, she felt that thread of mutual understanding that had always been there between them snap in half.

And she isn't sure how she can fix it, if she can.

It's the phone call that surprises her one random night as they sit in a park in Savannah. Weevil takes one glance at her expression as she stares at the phone and gets up to wander off towards the nearby garden, saying he wants to take a few pictures for his grandma 'cause she's got this thing for Gone with the Wind. She's grateful but also not so grateful as she presses the button to pick up the call.

"Hello?"

"Oh thank God," Duncan's voice fills her ear and she closes her eyes briefly as he adds, "I thought you were dead or something, you hadn't been around in a while. Your Dad made up some excuse about you going to see some relatives but that didn't sound right."

"What is it Duncan?" she asks wearily, suddenly tired of listening to him. "Why did you call?"

"Why?" he repeats confusion lacing his voice and her heart aches for him briefly but she knows that it's inevitable. They aren't the same people they were a year ago and she says softly, "How long did it take Duncan? I've been gone for weeks now. It's almost three months in a few days. How long did it take you to even notice I was gone?"

He is silent and she knows that is the answer. The faint cry of a baby echoes over the line and she says quietly, "Your daughter's calling you..." before hanging up the phone and turning it off. She stares blankly at the ground for a few minutes and wonders if she's defective because it doesn't hurt. For so long she has thought Duncan was the one but now...

"You ready?"

She looks up to see Weevil standing a few feet away, hands shoved into his jacket, shaven head gleaming in the sunshine and smiles. "Yeah," she says. "I'm ready.

They leave Savannah that night and head for New York. Weevil wants to see the Statue of Liberty and Ground Zero. She wants to get the chance to at least stand in front of the offices of the New York Times.

They both pretend the call never happened.

While in New York, she decides she wants to go dancing so Weevil agrees. He insists they splurge on new clothes, neither of them having packed for a night at a club, much less one in New York City. So, they go their separate ways and agree to meet in the lobby of their hotel. It's a simple hotel, another Holiday Inn but it's clean and comfortable which she can't deny. Sleeping in a tent with Weevil a few feet away each night for almost three months isn't good for a girl's libido, regardless of how much denial she's in.

She's taken aback when she seems him; she had never thought he would clean up so well but there Weevil stands wearing black dress pants and black shirt, buttons bared to show the barest glimpse of his tattoos as he waits patiently in the lobby. He's so busy looking up at the ceiling that he misses her arrival but when she coughs, he looks at her and smiles.

She's seen Weevil do many things in the last month; grow angry, grow pensive, grow sad, and even laugh but she hasn't seen him smile. At least not at her; he'll smile at the random pretty girl in the crowd now and then, flashing pearly white teeth at them and grinning wickedly at her whenever she says words that could be construed as a double entendre.

But she hasn't ever seen him smile.

They dance the night away at a club for teenagers, while he is eighteen, she isn't and he insists it isn't safe for her to go out alone. "Besides," he says as they wait in line. "Like I'm gonna let the boys of New York get their hands on you."

She tries to ignore the pleasure that fills her at the possessive statement; after all, she's a girl of the 21st Century; it wouldn't do to be happy about a boy being possessive would it?

When they stumble into the lobby, his arm is tight around her waist. They giggle as they stagger to the elevator, the adrenaline rush making them both dizzy with laughter. As they wait for the elevator, she bounces in place and he laughs at her, his dark eyes full of amusement. When they enter, she pushes the button, breathing heavily as the night's events catch up with her. Dancing for four hours is tiring work and she yawns suddenly as she leans against the wall, eyes drooping.

Weevil chuckles as he reaches over and pulls her towards him, arms settling around her comfortably. She yawns again and he helps her to her room, saying he'll see her in the morning. She smiles sleepily as she swipes the key card and enters, the door shutting behind her.

She sleeps, dreaming of dark eyes and a flash of white against tan skin.

When she awakens, it hits her that she's falling in love with Eli Navarro.

Weevil knows things about Veronica that he's certain no one else does. She wrinkles her nose in an adorable way when she's in deep thought, she loves to hear music from the fifties and sixties, she has a thing for Frank Sinatra, and she also tastes like honey and vanilla. He knows this because since that moment in the bathroom, he remembers how she had felt against him, how she had tasted.

And he also knows she needs a friend.

The Fennel kid was good for her, for a while, but Veronica has the tendency to forget the world doesn't move at the same speed she does so he knows they aren't speaking to one another. Kid's leaving town had taken away some of her comfort zone and he had waited for her to fall to pieces.

But she hadn't, which he admires. She's a strong woman, Veronica; he doesn't think Kane or Echolls realize that.

He remembers her from before; always in Lilly's shadow or on Kane's arm, an innocence in her eyes that he thinkss made her seem fragile. He remembers how Lilly had refused to discuss her or anyone else in their foursome, saying it wasn't any of his business...

He's always had a fascination with strong women; even then, he could see a fire in Veronica's eyes that wasn't obvious to anyone else but him.

She's enjoying their road trip, always pointing things out that he hasn't noticed or wouldn't notice. While in Ohio, they go the Mall of America and she drags him around the place with a look of laughter in her eyes that makes his chest tighten in a way that isn't unpleasant.

He wonders if she ever sees him watching her. While she sleeps in the tent and he sits, watching her dream, watching her stir before dreaming himself.

He thinks that maybe Veronica wouldn't be adverse to having a knight in shining armor.

He only hopes he can live up to that ideal, even though his armor's a bit tarnished.

They stop off in Las Vegas; school will be starting soon and they both know it's better if they come home early instead of late. Veronica insists on visiting the Little White Wedding Chapel, taking a photograph and giggling as she says, "I'm giving it to Alicia, Wallace's mom. She's got a thing for Elvis."

He grins and they go to a buffet in town, gorging on so much food, he's pretty sure he won't be eating for a few days. They get one room in one of the many Best Westerns around the country since they're running low on cash and it's better to save then spend. She throws herself on the bed, bouncing slightly as she beams up at him, eyes bright. He smiles back and nods towards the bathroom, saying, "I'm going to shower before I go to sleep."

She frowns, biting her bottom lip and asks, "Where are you-"

"I'll take the floor, V," he cuts her off. "Don't worry about it." Leaving her sitting on the bed, he goes into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. Setting his bag on the floor, he sighs deeply and strips out of his clothing, grimacing at the smell. Laundry was obviously something he'd take care of tomorrow, he decides as he starts up the shower. As much as he knows his grandma loves him, dirty laundry wouldn't be the best way to come home to her.

As he showers, he pretends he can't feel her in the next room; pretends he can't feel anything because he knows that line isn't going to be crossed again...

No matter how good she tasted or felt.

Padding out of the bathroom in loose fitting pants and a tank top, he glances at Veronica who is watching the television silently. Glancing at the screen, he pauses at the sight of Aaron Echolls, dressed in an orange jumpsuit and being led away from the reporters. "The former movie star claims his innocence will be proven eventually," the reporter says to the camera. "Evidence on the other hand suggests otherwise. Back to you, Tim."

He shuts the TV off and says, "V-"

"He's going to become a martyr," she says softly, still staring at the blank screen. "That is what's going to happen, isn't it? I'm going to be run through the mud as the nosy, jealous teenager and he's going to be the martyr, the righteous, innocent man I sent to jail by fabricating evidence."

"That's only in the eyes of his fans, V," Weevil replied quietly. "And even I don't think the majority will look at Echolls the same."

She laughs, the sound watery and filled with pain. He wraps her in a gentle hug and kisses her brow, the tears she sheds sinking into his skin. Veronica wipes at her eyes messily and whispers, "Sorry."

"It's fine," he says quietly as she avoids looking at him. He sighs at the action and gets up, the moment is broken. Seems like whenever he thinks he's moving forward with her, she takes a million steps back. He looks around the room and goes over to the closet, rummaging inside and coming up with three extra blankets. Setting them down on the floor, he makes himself a bed of sorts and mentally pats himself on the back as he unrolls the sleeping bag he's been using this whole trip.

She watches him silently, eyes wide in her face as he settles down. He thumps the pillow he'd taken from the bed and says, "Night V."

She swallows and nods her head as he closes his eyes. He rolls onto his stomach and pretends he can't feel her tears.

The smoke fills her lungs, pressing her and she's screaming, hands bloody against the door and she's coughing and she can hear her father screaming and then there's nothing but blackness and smoke and shehastogetoutoftherehastogetoutitdidn'tgothisway-

"Veronica!"

She awakens with a start, a scream caught in her throat as Weevil catches her flailing arms. He looks at her with concern and fear written in his eyes as he says worriedly, "You all right?"

Veronica doesn't answer merely stares at him for a moment before pressing her lips to his desperately. He pulls away reluctantly and says, "Veronica, I..."

"I'm not doing this to hurt you," she whispers as she stares at him in the dawning light. "I swear..."

"I'm sorry," he replies quietly. "But I'm not made of stone, V. I can't..."

And she is reminded of her rejection, of Lilly's rejection. The guilt she has ignored overwhelms her and she closes her eyes for a moment to gather herself. Actions, she tells herself, speak louder than words.

After all, Veronica Mars is not known to be timid.

She kisses him again, pressing herself against him, her fingers clutching at his shirt. Weevil responds passionately, fingers tracing a blaze of heat along her skin. She fumbles with her shirt for a moment but when her skin is bared to his eyes, she watches them darken to onyx and he says hoarsely, "Veronica..."

"No more running," she says in reply as she pulls of his own shirt. "For either of us, Eli."

He shudders and gathers her into his arms, whispering, "You sure?"

"I'm sure," she says and he kisses her again, tracing a line with his lips over her mouth, her jaw, down the line of her throat, nipping at her pulse as he presses her against the bed, hands pulling at her shorts, at his own pants. They kiss and tangle up together in the bed sheets, the tiny pinpricks of light from the blinds turning Weevil's skin to molten bronze.

Veronica moans beneath Weevil as he sucks a pink nipple into his mouth and gasps as her body arches off the bed. They tangle their legs together and she stares up at him, watching his eyes flicker between emotions and she knows that this is it, the beginning of her life...

And then it all explodes into nothing but euphoria.

When she awakens, he is sleeping peacefully beside her, and for the first time, she isn't afraid of what's ahead. And when he wakes up, slowly like a large cat, his muscles coiling and rippling in a way that makes her mouth water, fingers tangling in her hair to kiss her lazily, she isn't afraid of what her future holds anymore because it looks a lot steadier.

FIN