Title: The Nod
Author: Clara
Fox
Summary:
Veronica Mars does not get thrills from brushing fingers with her
clients or suspects, and Weevil is both of those right now.
Setting:
Expansion of the first Veronica/Weevil scene in 2x17, "Plan B."
A sort of sequel to "Love of Roller Coasters."
Spoilers:
Through 2x17.
Disclaimer: The italicized dialogue is transcribed directly from
the show and belongs to Rob Thomas and the writers. The rest is my own
extrapolation.
It's that flash of brown and black in the corner of her vision, a thrill with no apparent cause. Veronica has learned to identify and bury it before it has any real effect on her icy-wry façade. It's not something that could lead to anything less than catastrophic. She has a vague impression that something adorably couple-y and cake-related is going on between Wallace and Jane, something she might have done herself, in a distant past. Veronica doesn't have time for couple-y today.
Um, excuse me, guys – I believe I'm getting The Nod.
Staying neutral is Veronica's most basic strategy. Keep that poker face on, and suspects would get bolder, keep talking, think they had you fooled. Always look like there aren't twelve lines of furious thought churning behind that curtain of blond hair and smear of watermelon lip gloss, and people would let their guard down, say things they would never let slip to a shrewd or smirking officer of the law.
Or, in this case, putting on some convincing neutrality means that Wallace and Jane will only see Veronica walk across the courtyard and consider taking a case from Weevil. God knows she's done it often enough.
I need your help.
There might have been a tiny bit of Veronica that had hoped it wasn't going to be about Felix, this time. That, or else that twinge was about missing Duncan and their own cute couple moments. Because Veronica was all about the cute, right? No, enough sarcasm, Veronica. Back to business.
If I had fifty bucks every time someone said…that.
For the first time, her delivery is starting to falter. She makes her steps faster, tries to keep her smile more real than rueful. Regroups. Focuses.
No, seriously. I'm going to need fifty bucks if you expect me to keep listening.
Fifty bucks is a low fee for Veronica Mars. '09ers average a few hundred a case. But Weevil isn't exactly rolling in cash, and anyway he's done her favors in the past. This is the type of case she might take for free, if he asked her in a different way, like Logan used to, one with more eye contact and more … eye … contact.
Well, I'm banking on curiosity getting the better of you.
Of course Weevil knows her buttons, a fact which she will not let him capitalize on. She won't give him the satisfaction. Conversational gauntlets like that are Veronica's methods, and a person's own tricks can't be turned against her. Veronica is immune to curiosity. Immune to Weevil and his button-pushing.
She really is trying to walk away. Really, she should just leave. It's almost definitely about Felix. Probably Weevil thinks he knows who really killed him, and wants Veronica to prove it. It's almost definitely that. But it might be, could be, something else. Probably isn't. But Weevil is looking nervous under all the blasé, and Veronica Mars has never left probably up to chance.
All right, tell me. Damn my curiosity!
Fine, but it's all about the curiosity. The only irresistible attraction in play here is Veronica's Need to Know.
Thumper killed Felix.
Seriously? That was in no possible way surprising. Seriously, that was why Weevil was making all that eye contact with the ground two steps to her left? Well, fine – good, then. Veronica Mars likes being right, having called it. She recovers her neutrality so quickly even she isn't sure there was any disappointment there at all; that little frown was evidence of thinking, not deflating. The undercurrent of neutrality is logic, and she falls back on it.
Okay. If you know Thumper did it, what do you need me for?
A little comfort maybe, or an outlet for your frustration? Good God, Veronica, have you actually traded minds with Weevil here? He needs you to prove it, that's all. He wants justice, not action. As should you. As do you.
I can't prove it, yet. And Thumper has something on me. There's this video on his cell…
Was the top of this staircase some sort of hotspot for cases involving incriminating cell phone recordings? Veronica Mars is certainly not imagining the ways in which Weevil's video might have similar themes to Carmen's. But even if her mind had just gone to that dirty place (which it totally didn't; she is not picturing chocolate drizzle smeared across tattoos), she wouldn't have to stifle the thoughts - in this case a non-suggestive response would be more suspect than a neutral one.
Do go on…
Please let it be something tawdry, something scandalous. Veronica needs for it to be a compromising video, because she doesn't think she could deal with another violent revelation about a boy she is trying to help. Only because it would make helping him more difficult, not because she wants Weevil to be good.
I didn't exactly tell you the whole truth about how I handled the Curly situation.
She doesn't want him to be good; she shouldn't care what Weevil does or did – until a few weeks ago, he was the leader of a biker gang, and not the kind that's known for its bake sales and musical performances at retirement homes. But she also doesn't want to know the details of his more violent moments. At this point, and this might just win the title of Most Ridiculous of all the wild facts in Veronica's possession right now, Weevil is the only one of her male allies not to have been accused (officially or publicly, or by Veronica herself) of a violent crime. True, the other three had all been innocent, but still. Crazy. Duncan had thought that he had killed his sister, and for a few horrible days, she wondered if he actually could have done it; now, Aaron Echolls is fingering him for it on network television, and of course there's that whole kidnapping business. Logan had been accused, twice, of murder, and as fiercely as she had refused to believe he could have done it, she had still had flashes of doubt. Wallace, pure, good Wallace she had been sure of; of course he hadn't run down that homeless man, but he was still nearly arrested for it.
Dick is wrong – Veronica isn't rich-guy Kryptonite, she's just plain man poison. At least Weevil had a history; violence was part of his persona, and she could believe that his situation wasn't somehow her fault. Although the presence of her name on his victim's hand kind of spoke to the contrary.
But she can't process all this now. At least she doesn't have to think up an appropriate fake reaction to the news, though. Veronica Mars, the detective, would be frustrated and brusque in this situation; her real jaded disappointment will work just fine.
Shocker.
She is going to hit him as she says it, really is angry (mad about the violence or that he'd been lying to her about it?), but she thinks the better of it almost before her hand has started to move. Logan, in one of his cruder moments, once taught her the applicable hand sign, and she decides to punctuate her speech with that instead of the punch she'd like to land, but she is too angry to really remember the configuration and it's a little too late to get it exactly right.
I think that's Scout's Honor – your fingers –
He reaches out, and Veronica's hand moves back toward his, like a reflex. No, not a reflex: like a betrayal of every detective habit she had worked so hard to hone. Veronica Mars does not get thrills from brushing fingers with her clients or suspects, and Weevil is both of those right now. Veronica Mars always keeps her game face on, and her game face doesn't react to surprisingly gentle touches by warmly rough hands. All Veronica wants are the facts of the case, and maybe a quiet corner in which to catch her breath. She has her hand back now, and she shoves it roughly into her pocket to prevent any further betrayals. From here on out, it's all business.
Not important - moving on.
Veronica wishes she actually could. Move on.