Disclaimer: I don't own Veronica Mars. Rob Thomas does. And though I bet he'd never cross the line I just did, I think he'd like this story. It's fun. Anyway, yeah. I own nothing, please don't sue.

"We only have 20 minutes," She whispers urgently against his against his mouth, pressing herself against him, running her fingers up and down his arms. "Take off your pants." Before he can respond, or even move, she's pulling them down for him, her adept fingers working the zipper like magic. She kisses him again, and though he kisses her back, he can't help but wondering, how the hell did I get myself into this? Her nails leave marks on his back as she pulsates around him, pressing kisses to the nape of his neck, and tugging on his curls so he'll lean down and she can kiss him again. She hears a noise at the other end of the hallway, and she stiffens like always, but this time, instead of pulling away, she tightens up against him, biting into his shoulder as she wraps her legs tighter around his waist, and in seconds explodes with pleasure. "Thanks, Corn." She coos, wiping at the corner of her mouth, and untangling herself from him and leaning to unpin her skirt-wouldn't want anybody to know what I've been doing. She winks at him before turning and peeking out of the door. "You know the drill, don't you baby?" Her voice floats back and asks him. It's so dark that he couldn't see her even if he wanted to. Just this once though, he doesn't want to be the one looking. He nods once in the darkness, knowing that it won't suffice, but he wants her to look at him again. "I said, right, baby?" Her voice is hard now, and her platinum hair shines brightly, even in the darkness of the broom closet.

"Right." He replies softly, his gut clenching as he realizes that she's not there to hear it. She's back where she belongs, the Madison Sinclair of the outside world, reigning supreme. And he's sitting in a dark broom closet, waiting for the bell to ring.

X

"Hey Corny, you Okay?" Veronica. He stuffs the note in his back pocket, and turns to face her, composing his features in Exceptionally Bland mode.

"Yeah totally, V. Great." He nods once for emphasis, and she pats him on the shoulder as she walks past, smiling up at him.

"Don't look so serious then, Corn! We only have two weeks left!" She sounds exceptionally cheery, and he's got to blame that on Logan Echolls, who picks that exact moment to come up behind her, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. She squeals loudly, and biting her lip, rushes to hide behind Corny for protection. He can feel her laughing.

"Veronica, don't sniff around other men." His voice is perfectly serious, but Corny can see the laughter brimming in his eyes. He hates him a 10th less today.

"But Logan," She replies, peeking her head from behind Corny's shoulder and batting her eyelashes. "It's Corny. And besides, he's not into three ways, are ya Corn?" She laughs again, and he nods once, looking down at his hands. The note burning a hole in his back pocket says otherwise.

"C'mon, Veronica. There's a gift for you, just waiting in the back seat." He waggles his eyebrows suggestively, and this time, Corny can't help but laugh.

"Oh god, Logan." She responds, fanning her hand in front of her face for effect. "I've gotten so bored with back of the car sex." She laughs again, and he picks her up by the waist, hoisting her over his shoulder. As he passes, with a flailing Veronica in tow, Logan looks into his eyes, and nods. As Corny nods back, he can't help but smiling. He can see Logan whispering something to her, and can hear her laugh even as he turns down the hallway in the opposite direction. Life can be good sometimes, he thinks before remembering the Madison's note, crumpled in his pocket. He's not thinking where he's going as he crashes into someone.

"Hey, man. Sorry." He mumbles, barely looking. He starts to walk away, but glances down out of instinct, noticing the pile of stuff that has accumulated on the floor. He turns again, and begins to pick things up behind her.

"Oh, no! You don't have to do that. It's fine." He looks at her questioningly, her face is really familiar, but he can't quite place it.

"Sculpture 1." She responds, and he looks at her strangely. His fingers still over the papers he's been shuffling.

"What?" He asks, reaching up and scratching his head.

"Oh, nothing." She's looking down again, and one of her pigtails falls across her face, shielding it from view.

"No, c'mon dude. You said something. Sculpture 1?" He looks at her again, more closely this time, and then it hits him. He knows her from Sculpture 1. Brandi something? Svenning? No, that's from Mallrats. Oh. It's says it on the ID tag on the front of her jumper. Mandy Schnelling. Hey, he was close. "Right." He continues, awkwardly trying to fill the silence, which had him staring at the front of her shirt. "Mandy. I remember. Sorry about this." She nods once, a faint splash of color brightening her cheeks.

"It's-it's-it's Okay. People bump into me all the time." He frowns at that, and standing, he extends his hand down to her.

"So, uh. You need a ride?" Even if he leaves now, he'll be late for Madison. A little waiting won't hurt her.

"I take the late bus." Glancing up at the wall clock, ticking above their heads, he grimaces.

"It's uh-" But he can tell she's already seen the time.

"Oh no!" She's running towards the closest door, leaving a trail of debris behind her. Following behind her at a somewhat slower pace, he picks up each piece, an overflowing pile balancing against his chest by the time he reaches her. "You really didn't have to." Two large red splotches of embarrassment color her cheeks, but he smiles, friendly as can be, and starts to hand her her things.

"So…you need a ride?"