Title: Unbelievable
Author: Clara Fox
Summary: Veronica is a businesslike person, has plenty of experience compartmentalizing, so it only takes her one deep breath to clear away the heady rush that comes of letting her brain spend time between his legs.
Setting: Expansion of the second main Veronica/Weevil scene in 2x19, "Nevermind the Buttocks," from Veronica's perspective.
Rating: M, for suggestiveness.
Disclaimer: The italicized dialogue is transcribed from the episode, and as such belongs to Rob Thomas and the writers. The rest is my best wishful thinking.

That Veronica Mars is angry isn't the problem. She knows that she should be mad – Weevil almost definitely killed Thumper, and she has no reason to believe he's stopped lying to her about other things he might have done. It's not that she isn't angry, it's that she can't keep herself angry at him.

Veronica is angry that she couldn't get enough hard evidence against Thumper in the time she promised Weevil she would, and angry that she didn't think to find the real witness months ago. She can't suppress the guilt she feels for allowing her dreams to convince her that Weevil might have crashed the bus, and she doesn't know why she seems incapable of holding back the sniping remarks she's been spitting at him all day.

But most of all, Veronica is angry that she let her guard down enough to fall for Weevil. He is everything that she doesn't want in a man, yet she wants everything about him.

And so when he knocks at the office door, all she can think to say is something snarky. Clearly, Veronica Mars is an expert at reaction formation.

You here to confess? Is that your tail I see between your legs?

Great, Veronica: nag him yet again, then immediately admit you were staring at his crotch. Perhaps you could have said it loud enough for your dad to hear – see if that could have possibly made the situation any worse.

No, but I can see how you might get confused. I need you to get me into Clemmons' office.

Veronica is a businesslike person, has plenty of experience compartmentalizing, so it only takes her one deep breath to clear away the heady rush that comes of letting her brain spend time between his legs. Okay, two breaths. Also, the abruptness of his request helps a lot in restoring her sense of sarcasm. Oooookay, Weevil. You're going to have to put a little more effort than that into your flirting in order to convince Veronica to break and enter twice in two days.

Look, I know you got a key. You spend as much time in there as he does.

While it's comforting to know that in this particular case Weevil is wrong, if only on a technicality, Veronica does wonder whether he's bluffing, or if her access to the master keys is now common knowledge. Which would explain Clemmons' well-founded paranoia. All right, Weevil. Quid pro quo. Veronica doesn't phrase it like that though, because, seriously, who does Hannibal impressions anymore?

You want my help? You're going to have to answer a few questions from me. First, what do you need out of Clemmons' office?

Veronica is initially proud that she has produced a sentence that is neither overly bitchy nor suggestive, but realizes almost immediately how deeply pathetic it is that Weevil has forced her to lower the bar this far. She is Veronica Mars, and Veronica Mars does not flail around trying to return serves. She will regroup now.

A paddle. It belonged to Thumper. Clemmons confiscated it.

Way to lob a nice easy one there, Weevil. She can feel the control of the conversation sweeping back to her, and now that Weevil is sitting down, there's no longer a whole swath of dangerous and distracting territory right at eye level.

Belonged? Interesting use of the past tense. What's so special about this paddle?

Veronica has two type of comfort zones in conversation, and they both involve her having information the other person doesn't know she's aware of. Her favorite situation is revealing a plan, in detail, to its planner, and watching the fear grow as she nails every little point. Only slightly less awesome is allowing someone to tell her something she already knows. It's often interesting to see what gets left out of the story.

I saw it when I dumped the carnival cash in Thumper's shop locker. It had license plates engraved on it. I'm guessing that those plates belong to the people he was delivering product to for the Fitzpatricks. Probably made it as some kind of insurance policy.

Weevil doesn't seem to be keeping anything back, though, and Veronica can't help but be kind of impressed that he got a little farther than she was able to with the same information – she had always known they were license plates, but had gotten too distracted by the muggings and Logan's case and her bus-crash dreams to take it another step. Now she's wondering why she didn't try to run the plates earlier, and mad at Weevil for upturning the conversation on her again.

How's that working out for him?

Seriously, Veronica. It's not like Thumper got his name for his adorable resemblance to a rabbit. He was a murderer and a drug dealer, and while she was mad at Weevil for taking the law into his own hands, it was more because of the risk that it placed him in than because she thought Thumper didn't deserve to die. But it's too late to take it back; Weevil's already getting heated.

Look. The Fitzpatricks have turned the PCHers into slave labor. There's nothing those guys won't do to ensure timely payment. Threats, beatings, torture. That paddle, if it is what I think it is, it's serious leverage.

He's right, the Fitzpatricks are horrible, and she saw enough of the PCHers in Weevil's day to believe that, despite their love of mayhem and violence and underage drinking, they really wouldn't have gotten into drugs without some sort of outside influence. He's right, and what's more, he's kind of noble, if she's right in thinking that he wants to rescue the boys who turned on him. Contrition looks really attractive on Weevil. If his aim was to soften her up, he has succeeded.

Fair enough… second question: why were you following the school bus the day of the crash?

Veronica doubts that Weevil will realize that this is her version of an apology for accusing him of orchestrating the crash. She asks because she needs to know, not because she still has any doubt – the hurt in his eyes yesterday had removed any feeble suspicions she had – and because a part of her wants him to look at her and say: I was following you, Veronica. I woke up terrified that something would happen to you that day, and I followed you to protect you the way I knew your rich white boy couldn't.

Cervando. I love the guy, but he was book smart, street dumb. He was telling anybody who listened how he hustled Liam Fitzpatrick, and word was out that Liam was looking for him. I had his back, just in case. Believe me?

Of course she believed him. The sadness, the softness in his voice, though he's talking about one of his boys, confirming that it was really nothing to do with Veronica, the softness still hits her harder than any of his dirty winks ever did. She thinks she might cry, knows she absolutely can't. As she has done in so many other conversations with Weevil, Veronica regroups.

How can I not when you're batting those Maybelline lashes at me?

She haa enough time to anticipate a moment of understanding between them – maybe he realizes she's sorry for the things she said yesterday, maybe it's the Mabelline joke, because he can't not realize how gorgeous his eyelashes are – before what she sees in her peripheral vision lets the bottom fall out of the moment.

Hey…Dad.

Hey, Dad! You remember Weevil, the kid who at one time was the toughest part of your job as sherrif? The guy you've warned me to stay away from, on numerous occasions, back at a time when your biggest concern was that he actually had committed whatever crime it was, and so it was pointless to try to get him off? Can you tell that now I think I might want to get him off in an entirely different context? You probably can, because you somehow can always tell these things. Please say something, now.

I'm heading out, honey. See you at home soon?

Something normal, good. Veronica can give a normal response to that. And, thank god, it's a response that won't involve her promising to be present at what could only be a very uncomfortable dinner.

I have a shift at the Hut.

Veronica has never been so glad for the opportunity to re-make not-foamy-enough lattes for customers with maddeningly affected ways of pronouncing their drink orders.

Lock up, would you? … Eli.

Veronica only cringes inside her head, but she suspects that her dad still knows she's doing it.

Sherrif.

You didn't honestly think he would magically start liking you, she doesn't say to Weevil. But with the amount of subtext flying around the room right now, she can only assume that her defeated smile has communicated that clearly enough.

… key, please?

That was what he came here for. Veronica knows there's not much chance of Weevil sticking around to banter now that they both are sure her dad is waiting outside to watch him leave, but she has one more point to score before he goes.

Keep it.

Weevil's innocent surprise almost makes Veronica feel bad for what she's about to do. But it's a small price to pay for the win in this particular conversation derby.

Seriously?

She keeps her eyes mostly downcast, to keep from laughing too soon.

Yeah, Clemmons changed his locks. It's worthless.

Veronica really wishes she could dare to look up at his face right now, but in addition to the risk of breaking out in laughter, she has a drawer to rifle through.

What? You make me jump through all your hoops just so –

Another thing Veronica is the best at? Timing.

Lucky I have a copy of this, huh?

Now she does look at him, because it is this look that she most wants to see. His mouth half-open and eyes deliberately closed in part-expectant surprise, the defeated smile and an exhale of breath that she can almost pretend to feel on her lips. She wants to believe that the smile is also one of pride, of him secretly loving to be bested by the tiny blond girl whose ass he checks out when he thinks she can't see his reflection in a bus window.

You're unbelievable.

Yeah, she is pretty unbelievable, and he only knows the half of it. Veronica would like to ask, What do you say we figure out some of the other ways in which I am unbelievable, huh, Weevil? But Veronica Mars is a little bit afraid that Weevil will say yes, and she's still not sure that that is as good an idea as it sounds. And also there's the fact that her dad may very well have some sort of camera in the office; actually, she would bet her life on the presence of a bug of some kind of another. Perhaps a different sort of group project would be a bit safer, in this case.

What do you say we figure out who some of those fine folks are?

And please keep showing me your good side, Weevil. Veronica is looking forward to the prospect of working with him instead of against him, because although it's surprisingly fun to thwart him, Veronica thinks she might also like making him happy, and Weevil is never hotter than when he's happy.