(no subject)
Title: Saturday Morning
Author: orangesky33
Rating: G
Fandom: Veronica Mars
Pairing/Characters: Mac/Dick
Disclaimer: Not my characters yada yada yada. *pouts*
Spoilers/Warnings: 2x22 (vague, vague allusions)
Summary: Blah blah blah utter and total domestic! Mac/Dick fluff blah blah blah. Simply, what a boring Saturday morning at the laundry mat will get you. Takes place in a galaxy far, far away some time in the future, sort of, I guess?
Author's note: For 15north and devylish. And, okay, me too. (Given certain allusions to a certain clip show that I missed this weekend with a certain fallback boyfriend of mine.) Unbeta-ed, so if there are any serious comma, sentence, or spelling errors that I missed, I'm the one you scold/snic attack dogs on/throw tomatoes at. :]
********
Mac awakens with the white sun's glow on her face and rises from his empty bed, groggily making her way into the suite's living room. She pulls a wool blanket from its lazy position on the couch and wraps herself up in it.
The television is on, and as Bam Margera places gerbils all over a sleeping Rake (Why does anyone sleep on this show, anyway? Mac questions), Dick makes his way into the room in his robe, a bowl of Fruity Peebles the size of Texas in one hand and the cereal's accompanying box in the other.
He grins when he sees her on the couch, and she can't help but grin back.
"Hey." she says.
"Hey, Ghost World. Mornin'."
He lays down the bowl and box on the coffee table and goes in to kiss her.
She places her wrist over her mouth timidly before he can do so.
"There's an extra brush under the sink." He states.
"I'll be right back." she mumbles through her skin and jumps up, making her way to the bathroom.
After she has thoroughly brushed her teeth and tongue and swigged around some mouth wash, she comes back and resumes her position on the couch.
"What were we doing? Oh yes." She says and grins as he laughs and takes a long, tender kiss from her newly fresh mouth.
It's still damn weird to think about Dick "Bright Abbot by way of the Anti-Christ" Casablancas as "tender", even after the last couple of days. Had Mac ever thought to consider this in high school, she knew her ultimate guess would have been that Dick had the capabilities to be about as tender as a viper.
However, at risk of stealing sentiment from a Beauty and the Beast tune, there's something "new" about him, some kind of quirkiness and kindness in his statements and looks. Or so it is in their solitary confinement.
How (the why was all too apparent and the reason for her being here) still remains an engima to her, maybe even scares her a bit, in case he is a V style alien impersonating Dick of yore.
"You're quiet; you okay?" he inquires.
"Sure, fine...so, I see you've hooked yourself up with a breakfast worthy of champions; "champions" in this instance, of course, meaning the entire populace of Ethiopia."
"Indeed. It takes a lot of energy to be this awesome, baby. Wanna a bite?"
"Yep. Sure thing."
He dips his large spoon in the blue bowl and provides a heaping supply of colorful, fruity flakes.
"You're not going to spoon feed me, are you?" She asks with a cocked eyebrow.
"Ew. God, no. Despite the fact that we are playing things rather Dick Van Dyke, that's just... nauseating."
"Yeah." She agrees with a slight giggle, and after a moment's silence, suddenly, she has the courage to ask.
"But, about this Dick Van Dyke thing? I mean....do you.."
"What? Think it is going to last?"
"Yeah." She admits, genuinely.
"Honestly, I don't know. I've never done this. At least, without it going a bust, pretty quick-like."
"Me either." She breathes.
They let the silence pass between them.
Dick begins to occupy himself with the cereal box in front of him. He digs within the inside bag noisily, until he produces his desired prize.
"Avatar spoon?" He asks.
He holds it out to her with searching eyes.
"Yeah. Thanks, Dick."
She smiles and then looks down and gently brushes her fingers over the plastic Opa likeness.
He picks up the massive bowl and holds in between them, allowing her to get her spoon in as well. They eat between them, and Dick changes the channel.
"Oooo. Soup." He states when he hits the E! Network.
As Joel McHale enters the screen and begin to bash the Seacrest, Mac and Dick both laugh and continue with their eating.
Over the next thirty minutes, both find themselves laughing deeply and numerously between bites and snagged glances (taken from one as the other is for sure focused on the screen or the dipping of their spoon).
Sometimes around the "Clip of the Week" segment as Lou gets snipped and Dick cracks up ("Poor, poor Lou!" Mac exclaims, with a slight chuckle), Mac rests her head on his shoulder, hardly thinking about it.
Strangely things continue to be as they were and both feel content for the first time in a long while.
Fin. DAMN FLUFF
Author: orangesky33
Rating: G
Fandom: Veronica Mars
Pairing/Characters: Mac/Dick
Disclaimer: Not my characters yada yada yada. *pouts*
Spoilers/Warnings: 2x22 (vague, vague allusions)
Summary: Blah blah blah utter and total domestic! Mac/Dick fluff blah blah blah. Simply, what a boring Saturday morning at the laundry mat will get you. Takes place in a galaxy far, far away some time in the future, sort of, I guess?
Author's note: For 15north and devylish. And, okay, me too. (Given certain allusions to a certain clip show that I missed this weekend with a certain fallback boyfriend of mine.) Unbeta-ed, so if there are any serious comma, sentence, or spelling errors that I missed, I'm the one you scold/snic attack dogs on/throw tomatoes at. :]
********
Mac awakens with the white sun's glow on her face and rises from his empty bed, groggily making her way into the suite's living room. She pulls a wool blanket from its lazy position on the couch and wraps herself up in it.
The television is on, and as Bam Margera places gerbils all over a sleeping Rake (Why does anyone sleep on this show, anyway? Mac questions), Dick makes his way into the room in his robe, a bowl of Fruity Peebles the size of Texas in one hand and the cereal's accompanying box in the other.
He grins when he sees her on the couch, and she can't help but grin back.
"Hey." she says.
"Hey, Ghost World. Mornin'."
He lays down the bowl and box on the coffee table and goes in to kiss her.
She places her wrist over her mouth timidly before he can do so.
"There's an extra brush under the sink." He states.
"I'll be right back." she mumbles through her skin and jumps up, making her way to the bathroom.
After she has thoroughly brushed her teeth and tongue and swigged around some mouth wash, she comes back and resumes her position on the couch.
"What were we doing? Oh yes." She says and grins as he laughs and takes a long, tender kiss from her newly fresh mouth.
It's still damn weird to think about Dick "Bright Abbot by way of the Anti-Christ" Casablancas as "tender", even after the last couple of days. Had Mac ever thought to consider this in high school, she knew her ultimate guess would have been that Dick had the capabilities to be about as tender as a viper.
However, at risk of stealing sentiment from a Beauty and the Beast tune, there's something "new" about him, some kind of quirkiness and kindness in his statements and looks. Or so it is in their solitary confinement.
How (the why was all too apparent and the reason for her being here) still remains an engima to her, maybe even scares her a bit, in case he is a V style alien impersonating Dick of yore.
"You're quiet; you okay?" he inquires.
"Sure, fine...so, I see you've hooked yourself up with a breakfast worthy of champions; "champions" in this instance, of course, meaning the entire populace of Ethiopia."
"Indeed. It takes a lot of energy to be this awesome, baby. Wanna a bite?"
"Yep. Sure thing."
He dips his large spoon in the blue bowl and provides a heaping supply of colorful, fruity flakes.
"You're not going to spoon feed me, are you?" She asks with a cocked eyebrow.
"Ew. God, no. Despite the fact that we are playing things rather Dick Van Dyke, that's just... nauseating."
"Yeah." She agrees with a slight giggle, and after a moment's silence, suddenly, she has the courage to ask.
"But, about this Dick Van Dyke thing? I mean....do you.."
"What? Think it is going to last?"
"Yeah." She admits, genuinely.
"Honestly, I don't know. I've never done this. At least, without it going a bust, pretty quick-like."
"Me either." She breathes.
They let the silence pass between them.
Dick begins to occupy himself with the cereal box in front of him. He digs within the inside bag noisily, until he produces his desired prize.
"Avatar spoon?" He asks.
He holds it out to her with searching eyes.
"Yeah. Thanks, Dick."
She smiles and then looks down and gently brushes her fingers over the plastic Opa likeness.
He picks up the massive bowl and holds in between them, allowing her to get her spoon in as well. They eat between them, and Dick changes the channel.
"Oooo. Soup." He states when he hits the E! Network.
As Joel McHale enters the screen and begin to bash the Seacrest, Mac and Dick both laugh and continue with their eating.
Over the next thirty minutes, both find themselves laughing deeply and numerously between bites and snagged glances (taken from one as the other is for sure focused on the screen or the dipping of their spoon).
Sometimes around the "Clip of the Week" segment as Lou gets snipped and Dick cracks up ("Poor, poor Lou!" Mac exclaims, with a slight chuckle), Mac rests her head on his shoulder, hardly thinking about it.
Strangely things continue to be as they were and both feel content for the first time in a long while.
Fin. DAMN FLUFF