Anthology prequel: Opportunity
Here's the fic I wrote for
rowanceleste at
vm_santa:
Opportunity
Author:
angst_driven
Pairing: Casey/Veronica
Word Count: 4560
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Future Fic. Casey Gant seizes an opportunity
Spoilers: Seasons 1-3
Disclaimer: Not mine. Wish they were.
A/N: I'm feeling kind of bad because I haven't updated Anthology in a while. By way of apology I am posting the fic I wrote for
vm_santa. I scrapped my first idea, then attempted an AU fic that turned way too epic to finish by the deadline, so I put it off and came up with this instead. (Which is still way too freaking long!) It's a little darker at the end than I would have liked for a santa gift, but what can I say? I'm a slave to my muse. And no beta, so all mistakes are my own. It's Casey/Veronica, with no Logan, although LoVe is (sort of) implied. (I seem to be on a Casey kick right now.) Also, although it works as a stand alone, it's kind of a prequel to my Anthology series. Oh, and this is my first real attempt at smut, so I'm a little nervous about that too...
Opportunity
Whenever Casey thought of Veronica these days the phrase “missed opportunity” sprang to mind.
Lately his dreams had been full of her. Sometimes they were together at the collective. These were pleasant dreams of happy times, made even sweeter with the addition of a bit of romance; kissing by the fireside, making out under a canopy of leaves. Sometimes his dreams took place in the present; he would bump into her again unexpectedly and this time she too would feel the spark of attraction between them. These dreams usually concluded with them entwined in his Egyptian cotton sheets, although he found the ones where they remained snuggled on his couch watching old movies just as satisfying.
The dreams began during his second year at Harvard, when her involvement in a murder investigation had made the news clear across the country. Her image splashed across the television screen and the newspaper had been all the fuel his imagination needed.
Casey hadn’t been too surprised by his new nocturnal pastime. It was true he hadn’t dreamed about Veronica before, but she had been on his mind a lot since his senior year in high school. Prior to that, she had seemed nothing more than a pale shadow of Lilly Kane, Neptune’s own wild child. He had thought her well-suited to the role of girlfriend to Lilly’s younger brother, Duncan. Together they were both intelligent, attractive, considerate…and more than a bit boring.
It was at the beginning of his senior year, when Veronica was a junior, that he really took notice of her. Lilly was dead, Duncan had unceremoniously dropped her, and the rest of the 09ers had turned against her. It was probably what she considered one of the darkest periods in her life. But, by Casey’s observations, this was when she had really come into her own. Gone was the meek agreeable girl and in her place was a tough, no-nonsense young woman. Casey found this new version intriguing. He watched her from afar, silently cheering when she stood up to her former friends. Once, when Logan Echolls and Dick Casablancas were being particularly cruel with their insinuations, he even made the mistake of trying to defend her. But she hadn’t needed, or appreciated, his help. He found himself just as much a victim to her sharp tongue as the two offenders had become. He wondered if it was twisted that he found her reprimands refreshing and just a bit sexy.
It was around that time that Casey’s own life began to fall apart. Preoccupied with his own problems he lost sight of Veronica Mars and her antics for a while. Family affairs became too much for his teenage mind and he began looking for an escape. He found an unexpected yet welcome one in the Moon Calf Collective. Soon he had sold his Porsche and was living there full time. For the first time in a long time Casey was really happy with his life. When Veronica showed up at the collective one afternoon it was just an added bonus.
He didn’t know why, but Casey wasn’t surprised to see her there. She hadn’t really seemed too surprised to see him either, for that matter. To his delight they formed a tentative friendship. Looking back, he wanted to kick himself for not making his move then. She was single again, her last boyfriend having run off unexpectedly. Something to do with stolen cars and steroids; Casey wasn’t sure exactly, and to be honest he didn’t really care. But the truth was he hadn’t wanted to jeopardize their new friendship, and he knew, somehow instinctively, that neither of them was at a place where they were ready for something serious. And he didn’t think he was willing to settle for anything less with her.
Then it was no longer an issue. Casey was “rescued” and “reformed” by his parents, reverting temporarily back to his old ways. By the time he had come back to his senses it was too late. Veronica was with Logan Echolls - of all people- and he was headed off to college on the East Coast - far away from his family.
Casey had graduated from Harvard the previous spring with a double major in Business and Literature. Before immersing himself in the family business, he had decided to take a year off to see the country. But now he was back in Neptune, and he had an agenda that had nothing to do with publishing. If you asked him if he was secretly hoping to run into Veronica every place he went, Casey would deny it. If you went so far as to suggest that he was purposely haunting spots in which he felt likely to find her he would call that an outright lie. Of course that wouldn’t have made it any less true. For almost a month Casey canvassed Neptune. He drove past her father’s P.I. office, but of course it was closed up. Keith Mars was otherwise occupied; Casey was impressed to learn that Veronica’s dad had been re-elected as sheriff. He spent some time hanging around the Hearst campus, finding excuses to visit the bookstore, the library, and even the literary department. He never saw her, although he did spy Logan Echolls across the commissary one morning. He had been with a blonde, but she had been too tall to be Veronica. Casey didn’t even consider flagging him down to enquire about Veronica. He didn’t think she was a subject either one of them would feel comfortable discussing with each other.
Casey finally stopped furtively searching for Veronica where ever he went and continued on with his life. One morning, after a late night of poker with some friends, he woke up with a particularly nasty hangover, still wearing his clothes from the night before. By this point he was so confident that he would not find Veronica that he hadn’t even bothered to change before venturing out for some much needed caffeine. As the law of the universe states, things never go as one hopes or plans and, since he was dealing with Mars and Neptune, Casey probably should have given that law the respect it was due. But he chose not to, so of course, it was that morning that he did, finally, run into her, literally, as he was leaving Java the Hut.
“Casey Gant,” Veronica exclaimed after he had muttered an apology and helped her up off the pavement, “It’s been a long time. You’re looking…well…” Her voice trailed off as she took in his sleep-mussed, hung-over, coffee-drenched state.”
Casey grinned sheepishly, too happy to see her to care that he must have looked slightly worse than death warmed over. “Veronica,” he teased, “I was hoping I’d bump into you, although not quite so hard.” He nodded to her own coffee stained t-shirt, “I’m sorry. I should have been paying more attention to where I was going.”
“I think we’re both at fault here.” Her eyes ventured downwards eliciting a sigh, “I’d love to stay and catch up, but it looks like instead I’ll be making a trip back home to change.”
Having finally found her, Casey was unwilling to let her escape so easily. “Hey,” he offered, “my place is just around the corner. I’ve got a shirt you can borrow. I can even throw yours in the washing machine. That will give us a chance to talk. Unless you were just being polite…”
That was how Casey found himself in his apartment with Veronica curled up across from him on the couch filling him in on her life over the past five years, as he tried not to become too distracted by their various states of undress.
“So,” he recapped, “you stopped a rapist, solved a couple of murders, and brought down a secret society?” Casey shook his head in amazement.
“But really the high point of the story was the monkey, don’t you think?” she teased, her grin causing his chest to ache slightly.
“And you interned at the F.B.I.?” Casey somehow refrained from staring at her nipples, just visible through the thin material of his t-shirt that she was wearing.
“Yeah, it was…interesting but…” she paused to consider her wording as she sipped at her coffee, “…not really my style, you know?”
“Too tough?”
“More like too many rules,” she smiled self-mockingly. “I prefer to make my own. I’m not big on following proper procedures.”
“I bet the sheriff loves that.” The thought of Keith Mars with a gun helped to put a damper on some of Casey’s impure thoughts.
Veronica laughed, “Poor guy. Stuck with me for a daughter.”
“I don’t think being stuck with you would be all that bad.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth Casey knew it was a mistake. He waited for her to withdraw; surprised when she didn’t.
“Yeah, well,” she fidgeted slightly, “I’m not sure that’s the popular opinion these days.”
“So, then, I take it that there’s no man in your life right now…?” Casey knew he was probably pushing his luck, but he needed to know the answer.
“Well, there was this guy, Piz-“
“Pez?”
“No, Piz. Short for Piznarski.”
“Seriously? That’s what he wanted to be called? What was wrong with his first name?”
“Everything,” she giggled, “His parents named him Stosh. Stosh Piznarski.”
“What kind of cruel sadistic people would do such a thing?” Casey was feeling rather pleased with himself and his ability to amuse her.
“Actually, two very sweet people from Beaverton, Oregon.”
“Beaverton,” Casey laughed, “You made that up right?”
“Unfortunately, no. We actually spent last Christmas there,” Veronica held up a hand in warning, “and I do not want to talk about it.”
“But now this guy, Piz, he’s out of the picture?”
“Let’s just say he was too nice.” She shrugged. “According to both Piz and my father, it seems I have a thing for bad boys.”
“Bad boys like Logan Echolls?” Casey couldn’t help himself.
“Logan?” Veronica shifted nervously, “Why would you bring him up? We haven’t been together since freshman year. He’s been dating this friend of mine, actually. Parker. It’s kind of an on-again, off-again thing, but last I heard it was definitely on-again.” She looked up at him, narrowing her eyes. “What’s with the third degree, any way? I think it’s about time we delved into the past of Casey Gant.”
Casey grinned good-naturedly, reclining against the cushion, hands behind his head. “Fair enough. What do you want to know?”
“I don’t know,” she chewed on her lower lip, “you’ve been in school, Harvard, right?” Casey nodded silently and she continued. “But you graduated almost a year ago. What have you been doing since then?”
“I thought I deserved a break before diving into the publishing world.” Veronica nodded, urging him to continue. “So I did a little traveling; the whole tourist thing.”
“And…” she prompted.
“And,” he found himself spilling his secret, “I’ve been doing a little writing.” He watched carefully for her response.
“Writing?” She looked surprised but not skeptical. “Like a novel?”
“Yeah,” he nodded again, “sort of a fictionalized account of my time with the collective.”
“Really? Is it any good?” she teased.
“I don’t know,” he replied honestly, “I haven’t actually shown it to anyone yet.”
She nodded in understanding, and Casey made his decision. “Would you like to read it?”
“Now? Here?”
He nodded. At her look of indecision he added, “If you don’t want to, just say so. I won’t be offended.”
“No, it’s not that,” she was quick to reassure him, “it’s just that…well…how long is it?”
He couldn’t stop grinning. “Only about a couple of hundred pages so far. Why? Is there somewhere you have to be?”
“No,” she sighed, “not really. But, I mean, I don’t want to wear out my welcome. Speed reading is not one of my many talents, I’m afraid.”
“There’s no hurry,” Casey coaxed, “I still have to put our clothes in the dryer. And while you’re reading I’ll fix us some lunch.” He shot her a winning smile. “So, what do you say?”
Her agreement stirred up mixed feelings as he retrieved the unfinished manuscript from his study and handed it to her. He was thrilled to be assured of her continued company, but a little nervous about revealing the contents of his story to her. She didn’t know it yet, but he was about to bare his soul to her.
Casey puttered around in the kitchen, nervously watching her as she read. She had tucked her bare feet underneath her, a blanket wrapped snuggly around her. He was filling a pot with water when he heard her laugh softly. He shot her a questioning look.
“This is good,” she reassured him, “but you’ve painted yourself as a bit more naïve than I would have ever believed possible.”
“Yeah, well,” he agreed amicably, “I did warn you it was fictionalized.” He returned to his task as she went back to reading.
He could tell the exact moment she got to the part he had been worrying about. He was just spooning the pasta onto plates when she let out a small gasp. He looked up to find her eyes darting back and forth between him and the pages she held in her hand. “This girl, the cute spunky one, she sounds a tad familiar.”
Casey confirmed her suspicions with a quirk of his lips. Carefully he sat the plates down on the table and made his way slowly across the room, his eyes never leaving her face. He was sitting on the coffee table in front of her when she glanced up again, her lip caught between her teeth. He held his breath, waiting for her to verbalize her thoughts.
“This story,” she started, “just how much of it is fictionalized?”
The breath he had been holding escaped, as he laughed softly, nervously. “Well, we never actually kissed, as you may recall, let alone made out under the stars, so you know, it’s pretty much my own wishful thinking from that point on.” He dropped his gaze, no longer able to meet her eyes, afraid of what he might find there.
He felt her hand, barely touching his chin. When he refused to look up she tilted it upward, forcing him to look at her as she spoke. “Wishful thinking?”
He shrugged apologetically. “Maybe. How would that make you feel?”
“Truthfully?” At his look of annoyance she answered softly, “A little bit uncomfortable.”
“Oh,” he considered this for a moment, at the same time registering that her fingers were still touching his chin. “Do you think…” she met his eyes encouragingly, “there might be…some way…” he leaned in closer to her, “that I might be able to make you a bit…less…uncomfortable…?” His lips hovered just above hers.
She licked them slowly, nervously, and he had to stifle a groan. “What did you have in mind?”
The words were barely out of her mouth before his descended on her, capturing her lips in a slow soft kiss. He drew back reluctantly, unsure of what her response would be. She surprised him by smiling back shyly.
“Good plan. I’m definitely feeling more at ease,” her smile became somewhat sardonic as she added, “I don’t know that I’m entirely down with the idea of becoming immortalized in print yet…”
He cut her rambling off with another kiss, stronger this time, with just a hint of tongue. Her response was immediate, her hands reaching up behind his neck to pull him closer. His own hands ventured beneath her, lifting her up and into his lap as he fumbled his way onto the couch. His fingers stroked her back through and then ventured under the t-shirt, causing her to shiver slightly. He pulled away again, grabbing the hem of the shirt, silently seeking her agreement. Again her teeth gnawed at her lip. “What’s wrong?” his voice came out husky, “Do you want me to stop?”
“No,” it was the word he wanted to hear, but her posture, eyes downcast, arms suddenly crossed in front of her, said something different, “it’s just…well, we covered my relationship status.” Veronica met his eyes frankly, “Before we go any further I was wondering about yours. Any girlfriends, wives, or whatever that I should know about?”
Casey’s laugh came out a bit strangled; a strange mix of both relief and nervousness, if that was possible. “No,” he reassured her, hugging her close, “there’s no one.” She smiled brightly as he continued, “There hasn’t really been anyone like that for over a year now,” he smiled back at her, “except for you.” She gave him a perplexed look, and he bent closer to kiss her again. “You, Veronica Mars, have been haunting my dreams for quite awhile now.”
“Oh yeah?” Her smile was teasing now.
“Oh yeah,” he laughed quietly, “Maybe you should pinch me. Prove to me this is no dream.”
Her lips curved wickedly as she grasped the hem of the shirt. “I think maybe I could think of better ways to prove to you I’m real.” She tugged it over her head slowly, earning a moan from him.
He kissed her urgently. “You are so beautiful.” He bent his mouth to one pert nipple, sucking slightly. Now it was her turn to moan. Her fingers grasped frantically at the hem of the shirt he wore. Soon it joined the other on the floor. Casey shifted so that he was reclining on the couch, pulling Veronica down on top of him for another, still deeper kiss. His hands trailed slowly down her back to fiddle with the waist band of her borrowed sweats. “Is it all right if I take these off?” he whispered into her ear, causing her to shiver against him.
“They’re yours,” she whispered back, nipping playfully at his neck, “You can do whatever you want with them.” Casey didn’t waste any time sliding them off. There was nothing underneath; he hadn’t had any panties for her to borrow. He tried to take a moment to survey the scenery, but Veronica wasn’t having any of that. Her hands busied themselves with the drawstring to his pajama pants, and when she was finished the couple found themselves too busy for more conversation.
Casey awoke in bed several hours later. He was cold and naked and his hand scrambled about the bed looking for his missing blanket. He found it wrapped around a tiny warm body, and he smiled lazily as he recalled the events of the afternoon. Not wanting to wake Veronica he grabbed a pair of boxers from his dresser and slid them on. He ventured into the dining room where he found the pasta waiting, cold and forgotten. He dumped it all into the trash then placed a quick call into Cho’s Pizza before returning to the bedroom with a bottle of champagne and two glasses.
Veronica was sitting up in bed when he returned. “There you are,” she yawned, and he could feel himself grinning like the freaking Cheshire cat again. “Are we celebrating something?” she indicated the bottle in his hand.
“Yes,” he declared, settling down on the bed next to her as he popped the cork. “We are celebrating dreams come true,” he said, handing her a glass, “and the fact that it appears I am out of all other beverages.”
She giggled, clinking her glass against his. “To dreams come true.”
“To dreams come true,” he echoed, taking a sip, his tone suddenly serious. He took her glass from her hands and set it down on the night stand with his before pressing her back into the bed with a kiss. She tasted of champagne and coffee, and Casey found the combination terribly erotic. He had worked them both up into a frantic state by the time the doorbell rang.
“Ignore them,” Veronica pleaded, “they’ll go away.”
Casey groaned, considering and then discarding her suggestion as his stomach rumbled loudly. “I would, but it’s probably the pizza, and I’m afraid I’m just about out of anything remotely edible.” He sat up reluctantly.
“Pizza?” She sat up excitedly, giving him a shove with her foot. “What are you waiting for? I’m starving!”
Casey hurriedly dressed and went to retrieve the pizza. Veronica was just coming out of the bathroom when he returned. He was disappointed to see she had thrown on another of his t-shirts.
“Cho’s? Perfect! Hand me a slice,” she said, sinking back on the bed. “What?” She frowned as he shook his head.
“Uh, uh, uh,” he told her sternly, “no pizza until you’re naked.”
She smiled wickedly, stripping the shirt off. “You too,” she ordered, flinging the shirt at him, “and hurry. I’m starving.” He handed her the box as he shrugged out of his clothes. The conversation was sparse as they quickly consumed their supper, but Casey was content to savor both the food and the company.
“There’s only one piece left,” Veronica pouted a short time later.
“You can have it,” Casey generously offered, carefully slipping behind her, a leg on either side of her, so that she could lean back against his chest. Her hair tickled at his nose, and he gently brushed it aside so that he could nibble on her neck as she consumed the last slice. She moaned quietly, and he wasn’t sure if he was the cause or if she was just showing her appreciation for Cho’s award-winning tomato sauce. His lips continued their assault as his hands ventured around her waist. One slid up to cup her breast gently while the other traveled down, his fingers trailing lightly down her hip to trace her leg. By the time they traced back up her inner thigh and settled, softly stroking, at the wetness he found there he was pretty confident that the moans coming from her lips were due to his actions. The half-eaten slice had been dropped back into the box, and Veronica’s head was flung back to rest on his shoulder, her eyes closed in ecstasy. He bent his head down, lightly tracing her lips with his tongue, teasing at their opening. As her mouth parted, her tongue venturing out hesitantly to meet his, he slipped first one, and then a second finger inside of her. She moaned, louder this time, and he pressed his mouth against her, swallowing the sound. Slowly, his fingers never ceasing, he turned her to face him. He bent to take her breast in his mouth, sucking slowly before turning to do the same to the other one. Carefully he pulled out his fingers, her growl of disappointment bringing a smirk to his lips. Gently he slid both hands under her thighs, lifting them to rest over his as he slid closer. They now sat entwined, facing each other. His erection rested, hot and almost painfully ready, just outside her opening. She rubbed against him, whimpering with impatience, her eyes still closed.
“Veronica,” he whispered. She opened her eyes to look at him as he slowly slid inside her, his own moan echoing hers. He paused for a moment, trying to savor the sensation, but Veronica was too impatient. She ground down against him, her breathing growing heavier, and he instinctively pushed back. Their movements, at first clumsy, gradually settled into a rhythm. Together they rocked back and forth, there speed growing quicker and more urgent with each thrust. Casey was beginning to fear that he wouldn’t be able to outlast her when her movements suddenly became frantic. He pulled out slowly, slamming back into her as she arched backwards and cried out. He captured her mouth, kissing her forcefully as he felt his own release. They fell back, exhausted, as their bodies gradually recovered. Casey managed to pull the sheet up over them before they fell back to sleep, still tangled together.
At first Casey wasn’t sure what had awakened him. Then he heard a cell phone chirp as he felt Veronica slip out of bed. He watched her look at the display without answering it, a slight frown on her face.
“’Sup?” he mumbled tiredly.
Veronica turned to him, startled. “Oh, sorry about that,” her eyes shied away from his, and Casey felt a slight uneasy stirring in the pit of his stomach. “It’s no big deal, really, but I should probably return this call.” She tilted her head daintily, “My battery is almost dead. Do you mind if I use your phone?”
“Sure.” Casey looked at the empty phone cradle on his night stand. “It’s probably in the next room…” he made a move to get up but Veronica waved him back to bed.
“Don’t get up,” she bent to rest a quick kiss on his lips, “I can find it. You go back to sleep. This shouldn’t take long.” She was frowning again, but Casey was too tired to spend time wondering why. She slipped out of the bedroom quietly as he drifted off to sleep.
The next time he awoke it was dark outside and Casey was alone. “Veronica,” he called out into the darkened room. “Veronica,” he yelled still louder when there was no answer. Casey got up quickly and went out into the next room. No Veronica. It was the same story throughout the penthouse. He had almost convinced himself that the whole thing had been a dream when he found the note. She had retrieved her clean clothing from the dryer, folding and stacking his neatly on the top of the machine. On top of the stack was a small piece of paper. On it Veronica had written him a few brief lines.
Something unavoidable came up. Didn’t want to wake you. Had a really wonderful time. Maybe we can do it again sometime.
<3 - Veronica
Casey turned the paper over, searching for, but not finding, a telephone number. His phone rested next to the pile of his clothing. He stared at it, an unwelcome thought growing in his mind as he numbly slipped into the clean clothes. Finally he picked it up and punched the redial button. One ring…two…three…and the voicemail kicked in.
“Hi, you've reached Logan, with today's inspirational message… Opportunity often comes in disguised in the form of misfortune, or temporary defeat. - Napoleon Hill.”
Slowly Casey put the phone down and walked back to the bedroom. He picked up the pizza box and the champagne glasses, the bottle tucked beneath his arm. He carried them all to the kitchen, stopping on his way to put the box into the recycling bin. Carefully he washed and dried the glasses, putting them away in the cupboard before turning to the half empty bottle. He gave it a shake, disturbing the tiny bubbles that remained. Slowly he raised it to his lips, draining the contents, before hurling it as hard as he could at the opposite wall. It shattered with a satisfying crash. He stared at the mess he had made for a moment, then, with a decisive nod, stepped over the mess and headed to his study.
He might not have gotten the girl of his dreams after all, but at least he had an ending for his novel. And that would have to do. For now.
rowanceleste at
vm_santa:
Opportunity
Author:
angst_driven
Pairing: Casey/Veronica
Word Count: 4560
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Future Fic. Casey Gant seizes an opportunity
Spoilers: Seasons 1-3
Disclaimer: Not mine. Wish they were.
A/N: I'm feeling kind of bad because I haven't updated Anthology in a while. By way of apology I am posting the fic I wrote for
vm_santa. I scrapped my first idea, then attempted an AU fic that turned way too epic to finish by the deadline, so I put it off and came up with this instead. (Which is still way too freaking long!) It's a little darker at the end than I would have liked for a santa gift, but what can I say? I'm a slave to my muse. And no beta, so all mistakes are my own. It's Casey/Veronica, with no Logan, although LoVe is (sort of) implied. (I seem to be on a Casey kick right now.) Also, although it works as a stand alone, it's kind of a prequel to my Anthology series. Oh, and this is my first real attempt at smut, so I'm a little nervous about that too...
Opportunity
Whenever Casey thought of Veronica these days the phrase “missed opportunity” sprang to mind.
Lately his dreams had been full of her. Sometimes they were together at the collective. These were pleasant dreams of happy times, made even sweeter with the addition of a bit of romance; kissing by the fireside, making out under a canopy of leaves. Sometimes his dreams took place in the present; he would bump into her again unexpectedly and this time she too would feel the spark of attraction between them. These dreams usually concluded with them entwined in his Egyptian cotton sheets, although he found the ones where they remained snuggled on his couch watching old movies just as satisfying.
The dreams began during his second year at Harvard, when her involvement in a murder investigation had made the news clear across the country. Her image splashed across the television screen and the newspaper had been all the fuel his imagination needed.
Casey hadn’t been too surprised by his new nocturnal pastime. It was true he hadn’t dreamed about Veronica before, but she had been on his mind a lot since his senior year in high school. Prior to that, she had seemed nothing more than a pale shadow of Lilly Kane, Neptune’s own wild child. He had thought her well-suited to the role of girlfriend to Lilly’s younger brother, Duncan. Together they were both intelligent, attractive, considerate…and more than a bit boring.
It was at the beginning of his senior year, when Veronica was a junior, that he really took notice of her. Lilly was dead, Duncan had unceremoniously dropped her, and the rest of the 09ers had turned against her. It was probably what she considered one of the darkest periods in her life. But, by Casey’s observations, this was when she had really come into her own. Gone was the meek agreeable girl and in her place was a tough, no-nonsense young woman. Casey found this new version intriguing. He watched her from afar, silently cheering when she stood up to her former friends. Once, when Logan Echolls and Dick Casablancas were being particularly cruel with their insinuations, he even made the mistake of trying to defend her. But she hadn’t needed, or appreciated, his help. He found himself just as much a victim to her sharp tongue as the two offenders had become. He wondered if it was twisted that he found her reprimands refreshing and just a bit sexy.
It was around that time that Casey’s own life began to fall apart. Preoccupied with his own problems he lost sight of Veronica Mars and her antics for a while. Family affairs became too much for his teenage mind and he began looking for an escape. He found an unexpected yet welcome one in the Moon Calf Collective. Soon he had sold his Porsche and was living there full time. For the first time in a long time Casey was really happy with his life. When Veronica showed up at the collective one afternoon it was just an added bonus.
He didn’t know why, but Casey wasn’t surprised to see her there. She hadn’t really seemed too surprised to see him either, for that matter. To his delight they formed a tentative friendship. Looking back, he wanted to kick himself for not making his move then. She was single again, her last boyfriend having run off unexpectedly. Something to do with stolen cars and steroids; Casey wasn’t sure exactly, and to be honest he didn’t really care. But the truth was he hadn’t wanted to jeopardize their new friendship, and he knew, somehow instinctively, that neither of them was at a place where they were ready for something serious. And he didn’t think he was willing to settle for anything less with her.
Then it was no longer an issue. Casey was “rescued” and “reformed” by his parents, reverting temporarily back to his old ways. By the time he had come back to his senses it was too late. Veronica was with Logan Echolls - of all people- and he was headed off to college on the East Coast - far away from his family.
Casey had graduated from Harvard the previous spring with a double major in Business and Literature. Before immersing himself in the family business, he had decided to take a year off to see the country. But now he was back in Neptune, and he had an agenda that had nothing to do with publishing. If you asked him if he was secretly hoping to run into Veronica every place he went, Casey would deny it. If you went so far as to suggest that he was purposely haunting spots in which he felt likely to find her he would call that an outright lie. Of course that wouldn’t have made it any less true. For almost a month Casey canvassed Neptune. He drove past her father’s P.I. office, but of course it was closed up. Keith Mars was otherwise occupied; Casey was impressed to learn that Veronica’s dad had been re-elected as sheriff. He spent some time hanging around the Hearst campus, finding excuses to visit the bookstore, the library, and even the literary department. He never saw her, although he did spy Logan Echolls across the commissary one morning. He had been with a blonde, but she had been too tall to be Veronica. Casey didn’t even consider flagging him down to enquire about Veronica. He didn’t think she was a subject either one of them would feel comfortable discussing with each other.
Casey finally stopped furtively searching for Veronica where ever he went and continued on with his life. One morning, after a late night of poker with some friends, he woke up with a particularly nasty hangover, still wearing his clothes from the night before. By this point he was so confident that he would not find Veronica that he hadn’t even bothered to change before venturing out for some much needed caffeine. As the law of the universe states, things never go as one hopes or plans and, since he was dealing with Mars and Neptune, Casey probably should have given that law the respect it was due. But he chose not to, so of course, it was that morning that he did, finally, run into her, literally, as he was leaving Java the Hut.
“Casey Gant,” Veronica exclaimed after he had muttered an apology and helped her up off the pavement, “It’s been a long time. You’re looking…well…” Her voice trailed off as she took in his sleep-mussed, hung-over, coffee-drenched state.”
Casey grinned sheepishly, too happy to see her to care that he must have looked slightly worse than death warmed over. “Veronica,” he teased, “I was hoping I’d bump into you, although not quite so hard.” He nodded to her own coffee stained t-shirt, “I’m sorry. I should have been paying more attention to where I was going.”
“I think we’re both at fault here.” Her eyes ventured downwards eliciting a sigh, “I’d love to stay and catch up, but it looks like instead I’ll be making a trip back home to change.”
Having finally found her, Casey was unwilling to let her escape so easily. “Hey,” he offered, “my place is just around the corner. I’ve got a shirt you can borrow. I can even throw yours in the washing machine. That will give us a chance to talk. Unless you were just being polite…”
That was how Casey found himself in his apartment with Veronica curled up across from him on the couch filling him in on her life over the past five years, as he tried not to become too distracted by their various states of undress.
“So,” he recapped, “you stopped a rapist, solved a couple of murders, and brought down a secret society?” Casey shook his head in amazement.
“But really the high point of the story was the monkey, don’t you think?” she teased, her grin causing his chest to ache slightly.
“And you interned at the F.B.I.?” Casey somehow refrained from staring at her nipples, just visible through the thin material of his t-shirt that she was wearing.
“Yeah, it was…interesting but…” she paused to consider her wording as she sipped at her coffee, “…not really my style, you know?”
“Too tough?”
“More like too many rules,” she smiled self-mockingly. “I prefer to make my own. I’m not big on following proper procedures.”
“I bet the sheriff loves that.” The thought of Keith Mars with a gun helped to put a damper on some of Casey’s impure thoughts.
Veronica laughed, “Poor guy. Stuck with me for a daughter.”
“I don’t think being stuck with you would be all that bad.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth Casey knew it was a mistake. He waited for her to withdraw; surprised when she didn’t.
“Yeah, well,” she fidgeted slightly, “I’m not sure that’s the popular opinion these days.”
“So, then, I take it that there’s no man in your life right now…?” Casey knew he was probably pushing his luck, but he needed to know the answer.
“Well, there was this guy, Piz-“
“Pez?”
“No, Piz. Short for Piznarski.”
“Seriously? That’s what he wanted to be called? What was wrong with his first name?”
“Everything,” she giggled, “His parents named him Stosh. Stosh Piznarski.”
“What kind of cruel sadistic people would do such a thing?” Casey was feeling rather pleased with himself and his ability to amuse her.
“Actually, two very sweet people from Beaverton, Oregon.”
“Beaverton,” Casey laughed, “You made that up right?”
“Unfortunately, no. We actually spent last Christmas there,” Veronica held up a hand in warning, “and I do not want to talk about it.”
“But now this guy, Piz, he’s out of the picture?”
“Let’s just say he was too nice.” She shrugged. “According to both Piz and my father, it seems I have a thing for bad boys.”
“Bad boys like Logan Echolls?” Casey couldn’t help himself.
“Logan?” Veronica shifted nervously, “Why would you bring him up? We haven’t been together since freshman year. He’s been dating this friend of mine, actually. Parker. It’s kind of an on-again, off-again thing, but last I heard it was definitely on-again.” She looked up at him, narrowing her eyes. “What’s with the third degree, any way? I think it’s about time we delved into the past of Casey Gant.”
Casey grinned good-naturedly, reclining against the cushion, hands behind his head. “Fair enough. What do you want to know?”
“I don’t know,” she chewed on her lower lip, “you’ve been in school, Harvard, right?” Casey nodded silently and she continued. “But you graduated almost a year ago. What have you been doing since then?”
“I thought I deserved a break before diving into the publishing world.” Veronica nodded, urging him to continue. “So I did a little traveling; the whole tourist thing.”
“And…” she prompted.
“And,” he found himself spilling his secret, “I’ve been doing a little writing.” He watched carefully for her response.
“Writing?” She looked surprised but not skeptical. “Like a novel?”
“Yeah,” he nodded again, “sort of a fictionalized account of my time with the collective.”
“Really? Is it any good?” she teased.
“I don’t know,” he replied honestly, “I haven’t actually shown it to anyone yet.”
She nodded in understanding, and Casey made his decision. “Would you like to read it?”
“Now? Here?”
He nodded. At her look of indecision he added, “If you don’t want to, just say so. I won’t be offended.”
“No, it’s not that,” she was quick to reassure him, “it’s just that…well…how long is it?”
He couldn’t stop grinning. “Only about a couple of hundred pages so far. Why? Is there somewhere you have to be?”
“No,” she sighed, “not really. But, I mean, I don’t want to wear out my welcome. Speed reading is not one of my many talents, I’m afraid.”
“There’s no hurry,” Casey coaxed, “I still have to put our clothes in the dryer. And while you’re reading I’ll fix us some lunch.” He shot her a winning smile. “So, what do you say?”
Her agreement stirred up mixed feelings as he retrieved the unfinished manuscript from his study and handed it to her. He was thrilled to be assured of her continued company, but a little nervous about revealing the contents of his story to her. She didn’t know it yet, but he was about to bare his soul to her.
Casey puttered around in the kitchen, nervously watching her as she read. She had tucked her bare feet underneath her, a blanket wrapped snuggly around her. He was filling a pot with water when he heard her laugh softly. He shot her a questioning look.
“This is good,” she reassured him, “but you’ve painted yourself as a bit more naïve than I would have ever believed possible.”
“Yeah, well,” he agreed amicably, “I did warn you it was fictionalized.” He returned to his task as she went back to reading.
He could tell the exact moment she got to the part he had been worrying about. He was just spooning the pasta onto plates when she let out a small gasp. He looked up to find her eyes darting back and forth between him and the pages she held in her hand. “This girl, the cute spunky one, she sounds a tad familiar.”
Casey confirmed her suspicions with a quirk of his lips. Carefully he sat the plates down on the table and made his way slowly across the room, his eyes never leaving her face. He was sitting on the coffee table in front of her when she glanced up again, her lip caught between her teeth. He held his breath, waiting for her to verbalize her thoughts.
“This story,” she started, “just how much of it is fictionalized?”
The breath he had been holding escaped, as he laughed softly, nervously. “Well, we never actually kissed, as you may recall, let alone made out under the stars, so you know, it’s pretty much my own wishful thinking from that point on.” He dropped his gaze, no longer able to meet her eyes, afraid of what he might find there.
He felt her hand, barely touching his chin. When he refused to look up she tilted it upward, forcing him to look at her as she spoke. “Wishful thinking?”
He shrugged apologetically. “Maybe. How would that make you feel?”
“Truthfully?” At his look of annoyance she answered softly, “A little bit uncomfortable.”
“Oh,” he considered this for a moment, at the same time registering that her fingers were still touching his chin. “Do you think…” she met his eyes encouragingly, “there might be…some way…” he leaned in closer to her, “that I might be able to make you a bit…less…uncomfortable…?” His lips hovered just above hers.
She licked them slowly, nervously, and he had to stifle a groan. “What did you have in mind?”
The words were barely out of her mouth before his descended on her, capturing her lips in a slow soft kiss. He drew back reluctantly, unsure of what her response would be. She surprised him by smiling back shyly.
“Good plan. I’m definitely feeling more at ease,” her smile became somewhat sardonic as she added, “I don’t know that I’m entirely down with the idea of becoming immortalized in print yet…”
He cut her rambling off with another kiss, stronger this time, with just a hint of tongue. Her response was immediate, her hands reaching up behind his neck to pull him closer. His own hands ventured beneath her, lifting her up and into his lap as he fumbled his way onto the couch. His fingers stroked her back through and then ventured under the t-shirt, causing her to shiver slightly. He pulled away again, grabbing the hem of the shirt, silently seeking her agreement. Again her teeth gnawed at her lip. “What’s wrong?” his voice came out husky, “Do you want me to stop?”
“No,” it was the word he wanted to hear, but her posture, eyes downcast, arms suddenly crossed in front of her, said something different, “it’s just…well, we covered my relationship status.” Veronica met his eyes frankly, “Before we go any further I was wondering about yours. Any girlfriends, wives, or whatever that I should know about?”
Casey’s laugh came out a bit strangled; a strange mix of both relief and nervousness, if that was possible. “No,” he reassured her, hugging her close, “there’s no one.” She smiled brightly as he continued, “There hasn’t really been anyone like that for over a year now,” he smiled back at her, “except for you.” She gave him a perplexed look, and he bent closer to kiss her again. “You, Veronica Mars, have been haunting my dreams for quite awhile now.”
“Oh yeah?” Her smile was teasing now.
“Oh yeah,” he laughed quietly, “Maybe you should pinch me. Prove to me this is no dream.”
Her lips curved wickedly as she grasped the hem of the shirt. “I think maybe I could think of better ways to prove to you I’m real.” She tugged it over her head slowly, earning a moan from him.
He kissed her urgently. “You are so beautiful.” He bent his mouth to one pert nipple, sucking slightly. Now it was her turn to moan. Her fingers grasped frantically at the hem of the shirt he wore. Soon it joined the other on the floor. Casey shifted so that he was reclining on the couch, pulling Veronica down on top of him for another, still deeper kiss. His hands trailed slowly down her back to fiddle with the waist band of her borrowed sweats. “Is it all right if I take these off?” he whispered into her ear, causing her to shiver against him.
“They’re yours,” she whispered back, nipping playfully at his neck, “You can do whatever you want with them.” Casey didn’t waste any time sliding them off. There was nothing underneath; he hadn’t had any panties for her to borrow. He tried to take a moment to survey the scenery, but Veronica wasn’t having any of that. Her hands busied themselves with the drawstring to his pajama pants, and when she was finished the couple found themselves too busy for more conversation.
Casey awoke in bed several hours later. He was cold and naked and his hand scrambled about the bed looking for his missing blanket. He found it wrapped around a tiny warm body, and he smiled lazily as he recalled the events of the afternoon. Not wanting to wake Veronica he grabbed a pair of boxers from his dresser and slid them on. He ventured into the dining room where he found the pasta waiting, cold and forgotten. He dumped it all into the trash then placed a quick call into Cho’s Pizza before returning to the bedroom with a bottle of champagne and two glasses.
Veronica was sitting up in bed when he returned. “There you are,” she yawned, and he could feel himself grinning like the freaking Cheshire cat again. “Are we celebrating something?” she indicated the bottle in his hand.
“Yes,” he declared, settling down on the bed next to her as he popped the cork. “We are celebrating dreams come true,” he said, handing her a glass, “and the fact that it appears I am out of all other beverages.”
She giggled, clinking her glass against his. “To dreams come true.”
“To dreams come true,” he echoed, taking a sip, his tone suddenly serious. He took her glass from her hands and set it down on the night stand with his before pressing her back into the bed with a kiss. She tasted of champagne and coffee, and Casey found the combination terribly erotic. He had worked them both up into a frantic state by the time the doorbell rang.
“Ignore them,” Veronica pleaded, “they’ll go away.”
Casey groaned, considering and then discarding her suggestion as his stomach rumbled loudly. “I would, but it’s probably the pizza, and I’m afraid I’m just about out of anything remotely edible.” He sat up reluctantly.
“Pizza?” She sat up excitedly, giving him a shove with her foot. “What are you waiting for? I’m starving!”
Casey hurriedly dressed and went to retrieve the pizza. Veronica was just coming out of the bathroom when he returned. He was disappointed to see she had thrown on another of his t-shirts.
“Cho’s? Perfect! Hand me a slice,” she said, sinking back on the bed. “What?” She frowned as he shook his head.
“Uh, uh, uh,” he told her sternly, “no pizza until you’re naked.”
She smiled wickedly, stripping the shirt off. “You too,” she ordered, flinging the shirt at him, “and hurry. I’m starving.” He handed her the box as he shrugged out of his clothes. The conversation was sparse as they quickly consumed their supper, but Casey was content to savor both the food and the company.
“There’s only one piece left,” Veronica pouted a short time later.
“You can have it,” Casey generously offered, carefully slipping behind her, a leg on either side of her, so that she could lean back against his chest. Her hair tickled at his nose, and he gently brushed it aside so that he could nibble on her neck as she consumed the last slice. She moaned quietly, and he wasn’t sure if he was the cause or if she was just showing her appreciation for Cho’s award-winning tomato sauce. His lips continued their assault as his hands ventured around her waist. One slid up to cup her breast gently while the other traveled down, his fingers trailing lightly down her hip to trace her leg. By the time they traced back up her inner thigh and settled, softly stroking, at the wetness he found there he was pretty confident that the moans coming from her lips were due to his actions. The half-eaten slice had been dropped back into the box, and Veronica’s head was flung back to rest on his shoulder, her eyes closed in ecstasy. He bent his head down, lightly tracing her lips with his tongue, teasing at their opening. As her mouth parted, her tongue venturing out hesitantly to meet his, he slipped first one, and then a second finger inside of her. She moaned, louder this time, and he pressed his mouth against her, swallowing the sound. Slowly, his fingers never ceasing, he turned her to face him. He bent to take her breast in his mouth, sucking slowly before turning to do the same to the other one. Carefully he pulled out his fingers, her growl of disappointment bringing a smirk to his lips. Gently he slid both hands under her thighs, lifting them to rest over his as he slid closer. They now sat entwined, facing each other. His erection rested, hot and almost painfully ready, just outside her opening. She rubbed against him, whimpering with impatience, her eyes still closed.
“Veronica,” he whispered. She opened her eyes to look at him as he slowly slid inside her, his own moan echoing hers. He paused for a moment, trying to savor the sensation, but Veronica was too impatient. She ground down against him, her breathing growing heavier, and he instinctively pushed back. Their movements, at first clumsy, gradually settled into a rhythm. Together they rocked back and forth, there speed growing quicker and more urgent with each thrust. Casey was beginning to fear that he wouldn’t be able to outlast her when her movements suddenly became frantic. He pulled out slowly, slamming back into her as she arched backwards and cried out. He captured her mouth, kissing her forcefully as he felt his own release. They fell back, exhausted, as their bodies gradually recovered. Casey managed to pull the sheet up over them before they fell back to sleep, still tangled together.
At first Casey wasn’t sure what had awakened him. Then he heard a cell phone chirp as he felt Veronica slip out of bed. He watched her look at the display without answering it, a slight frown on her face.
“’Sup?” he mumbled tiredly.
Veronica turned to him, startled. “Oh, sorry about that,” her eyes shied away from his, and Casey felt a slight uneasy stirring in the pit of his stomach. “It’s no big deal, really, but I should probably return this call.” She tilted her head daintily, “My battery is almost dead. Do you mind if I use your phone?”
“Sure.” Casey looked at the empty phone cradle on his night stand. “It’s probably in the next room…” he made a move to get up but Veronica waved him back to bed.
“Don’t get up,” she bent to rest a quick kiss on his lips, “I can find it. You go back to sleep. This shouldn’t take long.” She was frowning again, but Casey was too tired to spend time wondering why. She slipped out of the bedroom quietly as he drifted off to sleep.
The next time he awoke it was dark outside and Casey was alone. “Veronica,” he called out into the darkened room. “Veronica,” he yelled still louder when there was no answer. Casey got up quickly and went out into the next room. No Veronica. It was the same story throughout the penthouse. He had almost convinced himself that the whole thing had been a dream when he found the note. She had retrieved her clean clothing from the dryer, folding and stacking his neatly on the top of the machine. On top of the stack was a small piece of paper. On it Veronica had written him a few brief lines.
Something unavoidable came up. Didn’t want to wake you. Had a really wonderful time. Maybe we can do it again sometime.
<3 - Veronica
Casey turned the paper over, searching for, but not finding, a telephone number. His phone rested next to the pile of his clothing. He stared at it, an unwelcome thought growing in his mind as he numbly slipped into the clean clothes. Finally he picked it up and punched the redial button. One ring…two…three…and the voicemail kicked in.
“Hi, you've reached Logan, with today's inspirational message… Opportunity often comes in disguised in the form of misfortune, or temporary defeat. - Napoleon Hill.”
Slowly Casey put the phone down and walked back to the bedroom. He picked up the pizza box and the champagne glasses, the bottle tucked beneath his arm. He carried them all to the kitchen, stopping on his way to put the box into the recycling bin. Carefully he washed and dried the glasses, putting them away in the cupboard before turning to the half empty bottle. He gave it a shake, disturbing the tiny bubbles that remained. Slowly he raised it to his lips, draining the contents, before hurling it as hard as he could at the opposite wall. It shattered with a satisfying crash. He stared at the mess he had made for a moment, then, with a decisive nod, stepped over the mess and headed to his study.
He might not have gotten the girl of his dreams after all, but at least he had an ending for his novel. And that would have to do. For now.