Vegas Showgirl
Veronica Mars, the Amazing Girl Wonder. By day, a high school student struggling to get through—by night, a private dick for hire for anyone who's got the cash.
She's tough; she's durable; she'll come through anything no matter what—she's everything you ever wanted in a pair of Juicy Coture sweatpants, complete with the occasional warm and fuzzy lint you always find in the pockets after they've been washed a couple of times.
She's Veronica Mars—she can do it all.
And she can be all yours for only 3 easy payments of $29.95, which is, interestingly enough, the exact cost of dancing lessons at the Dune Hotel.
That's right—Veronica can dance like no other. She won't admit to it, of course, because she likes to pretend she's all tough and smart and fearless and she knows all the answers. She can be up front when she's confronting some thug or playing Nancy Drew and interrogating people. I remember when she used to corner me in the hallways and accuse me of things. Those were good times.
Because she was forward; she was blunt; she was Veronica Mars, sleuth-extraordinaire, and she already knows you did it so why bother lying? You're wasting her time; why won't you hurry up and confess and/or piss your pants in fear? She's got a physics test in a half-hour.
She was never afraid of confronting the bad guy, pointing fingers at the head honcho, or going after the criminal like a hungry piranha goes after a wounded hippopotamus.
No, what Ronnie's most afraid of confronting is her own feelings.
Dr. Feel-good is now taking calls on line one.
Veronica won't ever say her feelings—ever. She makes you guess, and that's where the dancing lessons come in handy. She dances around the topic of her feelings—she won't admit to having them, she'll lie, she'll avoid the topic as if it were an ex-boyfriend she doesn't want to face, or she'll change the subject and stubbornly refuse to talk. She does twirls and loop-de-loops and pliés like a freaking ballerina, until the poor idiot who's just trying to get a peek at what's under Veronica's tutu can barely stand.
Exhibit A: Duncan. Ickle Ronnie's first ever boyfriend. Aw.
I guess she picked up the habit of not giving anything away from him. Duncan's tight-lipped; he won't tell you anything unless he absolutely has to. Otherwise he'll just sit there. Like when he dumped Veronica—he didn't tell her. He left her to flounder helplessly until Lilly figured it out and told Veronica to get over him. I still don't know why he dumped her—he didn't tell me either—but it doesn't matter.
She didn't use to be so private and withdrawn—and she isn't, except when it comes to the oh-so sensitive topic of How Does Veronica Really Feel? But she wasn't always like that—she used to be more open, yadda yadda, all that mushy goop.
And then, after Lilly died...well, things changed. I can understand that.
Exhibit B: Troy Vandergroff. Veronica's first venture back into the dating game since Duncan.
She never told him anything—never gave him a clue as to how she really felt. Or she would give him a clue, like make-out with him under the bleachers, but the next second she'd be running off to Duncan, leaving Troy confused as hell and with a massive hard-on.
Poor guy. She really messed with his head—spun him round and round and round until he was so dizzy he couldn't see straight. Yes, Veronica danced, but when Troy became the Bad Guy, it was like BOOM! Background checks, confrontation, drama, angst, arrest, center stage! Damn, she nailed that sucker pretty fast, huh? I almost feel bad for him.
But she left him a couple of subtle, almost nervous hints, which means she didn't want to become Mrs. Troy Vandergroff.
See, the more Veronica likes someone, the more she holds in. If she doesn't like them that much, she'll let more out, because there's less chance of getting her feelings hurt. Aw. Poor 'Ronica.
Exhibit C: Leo. That cop guy Veronica used, then fell for. You know, all that romantic crap. Anyway, she told him things like how 'sweet he was' and that she 'genuinely cared for him,' etc, etc. And she did.
But she didn't love him. She couldn't have, or she wouldn't have told him anything. He couldn't have meant too much to her, if she dumped him.
Leo was safe, no risk, an easy win. With him, there was no chance of Veronica getting her feelings hurt, because she didn't really like him that much. Because deep down, Veronica's really quite selfish.
How do I know all this? Because I am:
Exhibit D: Logan Echolls.
Veronica and I both gamble. We both have the perfect poker face, we both know when to fold and when to bet, we know what's safe territory and what's dangerous. And when we bet it all, we lose it all.
Veronica's not often willing to bet it all. She's not ready or she just won't give it all, take a major risk—she likes to play it safer than that when dealing with her feelings. So she dances.
She didn't care that I bet it all—she wouldn't give me a single hint as to her feelings for me.
See, I decided to take a risk. I took a chance and told her I love her. I bet it all on Veronica Mars.
I lost it all. Because Veronica danced too much and spun out of control. She kept leaping away with no explanation whenever I almost had her in my arms. She never gave me any clue—or if she did it was a lie.
And then she danced the ultimate dance—she leapt into the air and flew around doing grand jêtês and all that other French crap and it completely blew my mind.
She accused me of killing Lilly.
But she wasn't able to say it to my face—she didn't say anything to me. She went behind my back and tattled on me to the sheriff, then lied to me about it.
I have to say, Veronica, that one hurt.
Honestly though, it means a lot.
It means Veronica loved me. Because she didn't want to risk it. She was too scared.
That means that behind Veronica's poker face—I'm her soft spot. I am the GirlWonder's only weakness; I am Kryptonite to her Superman and she knows it and she won't risk it because she doesn't want to lose.
So she danced. Never giving me a straight answer, dodging the questions, changing the subject, avoiding the topic—all classic Veronica escape strategies. You know, I must've told her I loved her, like, five times and she never once said it back.
That hurt.
But it meant she really did love me.
Because Veronica's selfish, deep down.
And I can't say that I blame her for not wanting to risk it again. Every time, she's come up short, with the major ones being Duncan, Lilly, her mom...she's had bad experiences with betting it all.
But you know, I'm selfish too. I've had bad experiences too, so just once I would have liked to hear her say it. Just once.
Even though I already know, I want to be sure she knows it too. I want her to say it.
Maybe I'm impatient; she would've said it someday. Or she would have before things got so fucked up and then I went and fucked them up more and then I fucked Kendall just to keep things interesting.
But this isn't my sob story—look for that on the Lifetime channel, Saturdays at eight o'clock. Logan Echolls played by one of those Camden kids from Seventh Heaven.
Geez, Veronica, what have you been up to lately? Dancing and gambling? Isn't that what those showgirls in Vegas do?
Tsk tsk. I guess Veronica Mars isn't perfect after all. But neither am I, and I love her anyway.
Finis
Author's Notes:
So yeah. That was my first halfway decent Veronica Mars fic. Love the LoVe. I do. I think it could use work...but what really matters is what other people think. Let me know.
Read? Review!