Disclaimer: I do not own Veronica Mars or any of its characters
Author’s Note: I’ve been wanting to write VM for a long time. With the shipper moment in ‘Weapons of Class Destruction,’ I felt it was time to get on with my lazy butt and write a darn fic. It’ll get steamier next time. Promise. So the summary stays. Eh, I totally felt the V/L.
This bed is on fire with passionate love
The neighbors complain about the noises above
But she only comes when she’s on top
Veronica Mars scanned the parking lot for a can’t-miss-it yellow Nissan. Seeing none, she walked (nearly) haughtily up the steps of Neptune High and approached another day at school.
She waved to Mac, who returned her laptop, and Wallace, being semi-carried by his fellow basketball players.
Feeling calmer by the minute, Veronica walked into her American History classroom more confident and cool than ever.
By the time she arrived in her Journalism classroom, Veronica had even had an (almost) happy conversation with Meg about the other girl’s missing boyfriend. She wouldn’t be referring him to
Walking with an extra perk in her step, Veronica didn’t even notice as she sat down that Logan Echolls was across the room staring at her tiny blonde head.
Headphones in her ears and with her iPod mini on shuffle, Veronica quickly went to work on her latest article; hopefully this written piece didn’t get the next substitute fired. In any case, she didn’t pay any attention to the surrounding area of the classroom.
As the bell rung, Veronica had just tossed her items into her messenger bag and walked out the door when suddenly a pair of lips was on her and she was being furiously kissed. By
With his tongue in her mouth and hands in her hair and her bag slightly digging into her back, Veronica hit her head on the trophy case and gasped for needed air.
“What. The. Hell.”
And then, “Don’t worry; no one saw us.”
And of course, he was right. They were hidden in the small alcove between a classroom and the trophies.
Then the bell rang. Shit, I have photography. Ah, well. Let’s go Emeril and kick this up another notch, shall we?
A smirk slowly found its way to Veronica’s lips before she looked up at
“What do you say we ditch? It’ll be just like old times.”
Except it wouldn’t, with
He only nodded, taking her small hand into his as he led her out to his car, parked behind the football stands.
They found themselves at the door of his home, a place Veronica had been many times, but never alone. If alone meant being with
When she came out, he was sitting atop the stairs, looking down at her. Now wasn’t this déjà vu?
Smiling ironically to herself, she paused when
And there was no contempt, no malice, just genuine questioning.
Semi-honestly, she replied, “I was just thinking, is all.”
Taking her answer, he led her upstairs, but not before asking her, “You sure you want to go up here, Ronnie?”
With his eyebrow furrowed and hand slightly touching her hip, Veronica nearly smiled at his almost caring.
She shrugged, “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”
Chuckling for the first time in a long time,
Veronica abruptly let go of
“What—I was just kidding, Ronnie. Calm down.”
She nodded, “I knew that. Definitely.”
And then she kissed him again. A small peck on the lips could apparently go a long way, because soon enough, his hands were again at her hips, clutching her with reckless abandon. Her hands tangled themselves into his smooth, well-conditioned hair and soon, they were on the floor, mindlessly groping and touching and feeling and all sorts of loveliness before a clearing of the throat startled them.
Instead, she sarcastically greeted, “Well, well,
Trina pointed at the duo for good measure, “I knew you two always wanted to screw
Veronica wasn’t even able to utter a reply.
“Says the goddess of bitch herself. Good going, Trina. Hey, why don’t you go back to playing Russian Spy #1 on Alias. Or is that stint over?”
To Veronica, he added, “We weren’t finished,” and then to his ever annoying half-sibling, “Go away. We weren’t finished.”
Trina hmphed, “Well you don’t have to whine.”
As she sashayed her way out of the room,
To which Veronica retorted, “Sure. You probably knew she’d be here. I never wanted to screw
As she too ran off,
Who the hell was Leo anyway? What. The. Fuck. That cop?