FIC: "Ho-Ho-Home for the Holidays" (Veronica/Lamb) R
Title: Sigma Epsilon Chi IV: Ho-Ho-Home for the Holidays
Author: angel_grace
Rating: R
Pairing: Veronica/Lamb
Word Count: 1705
Spoilers: Makes reference to one of the confirmed S3 mystery arcs. All details of that mystery are pure speculation.
Disclaimer: Veronica Mars and the characters depicted here were created by Rob Thomas. They are used without permission. No copyright infringement is intended, and no profit is being made from their use.
Summary: Part 4 in my "Sigma Epsilon Chi" series, this will probably make more sense if you read part 1, part 2, and part 3 first. Veronica tries to enjoy the start of her winter break, while Lamb tries to make amends for the incident at the Siren Song.
Veronica placed the last of the Christmas ornaments on the tree and smiled. Perfect. She had survived her first semester of college, and now she was looking forward to a month without classes, papers, or exams. She knew she'd keep busy helping her dad at the office, but tonight she was relishing the time off.
Keith was in L.A., tracking down yet another bail jumper, and she wanted to surprise him with a decorated apartment when he came home. She was hanging a strand of colored lights around the window when someone knocked on the door.
Her Christmas cheer disappeared when she opened it and found Sheriff Lamb on the other side. They hadn't spoken since shortly after the incident at the Siren Song, and she didn't see why that should change now. Without a word, she began to swing the door shut.
He stopped it with his hand. "I have information about the Hearst case."
She looked at him with narrowed eyes. "And that's the only reason you're here?"
He hooked his thumbs through his belt loops and glanced down at his feet. "No, but I figure it's the only way you'll let me in the door."
He was right, but she wasn't about to confirm it for him. Silently, she stood aside and allowed him to enter the apartment.
Lamb studied her out of the corner of his eye. She should have looked ridiculous, with the bright red Santa hat perched on her head. Instead, his brain--and parts south--was flooded with all sorts of "naughty elf" fantasies.
Veronica sat down on the couch and stared up at him. "Talk," she commanded, her voice cold.
He took his time answering, first glancing around at the holiday decorations and then settling into a chair. Finally, he said, "We sent the evidence in the Hearst case to the crime lab in San Diego for additional processing. They have better equipment than we do, and we thought they might catch something we missed."
One eyebrow arched up. "Wow, it almost sounds like you're serious about solving this case," she remarked snidely.
"Do we really need to have this argument again?"
She gazed hard at him, trying to read his mind. He looked...tired. And frustrated. "I guess not. What did the San Diego lab find?"
"They ran DNA analysis on all of the rape kits from the victims. We did it on the first four, and they all matched a single unknown donor. After that, when the m.o. never changed, we figured it was still the same guy."
"I take it that's not the case?"
He shook his head. "Every single victim reported the exact same m.o., but the DNA says we're dealing with at least three perps. Could be more, since some of the girls showered before reporting the rape."
"You think they're all working together."
"They have to be. The crimes aren't just similar--every last detail is the same."
"Does that support the theory that the rapists are in a fraternity?"
He nodded. "With how close-knit those organizations are, it's still our best lead."
"There's just one thing I don't understand."
"What's that?"
She leaned forward, the fluffy white ball on her hat falling in front of her face. "Why are you telling me all this?"
He looked her in the eye, his expression surprisingly serious. "I already told you, it was the only way you'd let me in the door."
She leaned back on the couch, arms crossed over her chest. "So why are you really here?"
He wanted to apologize, to tell her he'd been an ass, to make her believe that the sex was amazing and he wasn't willing to give it--or her, a tiny, obnoxious voice whispered--up. "Look, I know things got out of hand at the Siren Song..."
"Yes, they did," she snapped.
"I wasn't trying to make you feel like a...a..."
"Whore?" she supplied bitterly. "Prostitute? Hooker? Slut? I can go on..."
"Veronica..."
"What? What do you expect me to say here? 'No problem, don't worry about it, let's go jump in the sack'? I can't just pretend it didn't happen!"
"What do you want me to do? I can't take back what happened!"
"An apology would be nice, for starters."
"I thought that's what I was doing."
Her laugh was sharp, bitter. "Apologizing means that you actually have to say that you're sorry, not just assume that I know. On certain occasions it also requires flowers, candy, or other gifts."
"I take it this is one of those occasions," he remarked dryly.
She shrugged. "Wouldn't hurt."
He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face in frustration. She was right. He knew she was right. But that didn't make it any easier to say the words.
His temper flared. And why should he say it? It was just sex. Veronica Mars had hated him for the past three years, maybe longer. What difference did it make if she kept hating him?
On the other hand, the sex was really damn good. And he sure wouldn't mind seeing her in that Santa hat and nothing else...
His mind made up, he mustered his best "sincere" face and said, "I am sorry. I never should have taken advantage of the situation that way."
She cocked her head to one side. "And?"
"And...it will never happen again."
She snorted, obviously not believing that. "And?"
And? There was another "and"? No one had told him there would be another "and"! "And...I'll make it up to you?" he finished lamely.
Her expression was skeptical. "I'm not seeing any flowers or chocolates, Don."
Was it a good sign that she was using his first name? He thought it might be, but he could never be sure with Veronica... As he was pondering, inspiration struck. Standing up, he moved to sit beside her on the couch.
"You're right," he said, leaning in close, his breath warm on her cheek, "I didn't bring flowers or chocolate, but I can make it up to you."
She struggled to ignore the sudden rush of heat through her body. "I'm not going to have sex with you," she told him firmly.
"Wouldn't dream of asking you to," he replied, his hand coming to rest on the small of her back. "What time will Keith be home?"
She refused to sigh with pleasure when his warm hand found the bare skin beneath the hem of her shirt. "Six o'clock--tomorrow night."
Lamb's smile was predatory. "Plenty of time, then."
"For what?" she asked, a little afraid of the answer.
"To make you scream," he replied softly, catching her earlobe lightly between his teeth.
She couldn't stifle a small moan. "I already told you--I'm not having sex with you," she gasped out.
"You don't have to do anything at all," he practically purred.
Oh. Oh. Realization began to dawn, and Veronica had no objection to that. "Well, when you put it that way..." she murmured, turning her head to meet his searching mouth.
The kiss was leisurely, sensuous. He had missed the taste of her--not that he would ever admit it out loud. Tonight he planned to taste her thoroughly. He broke away long enough to whisper, "There's just one rule."
"What's that?"
"You have to leave the hat on."
Her laughter washed away any residual anger between them. In a move worthy of Rhett Butler, he scooped her up off the couch and headed down the hall to her bedroom.
As he set her down on the bed, he tried not to think about the way this room used to look, when there were stuffed animals on the bed and Barbies tucked neatly in the closet. Veronica wasn't a little girl anymore--she hadn't been in a long time.
He had her shirt off in seconds, and couldn't help chuckling at what she wore underneath. "There are candy canes on your bra."
She rolled her eyes. "Thank you, Captain Obvious." Her smile was wicked. "Wait until you see what's on my underwear."
He groaned. This girl was going to be the death of him. But God, what a way to die. With deft fingers, he made quick work of her bra. As he bent his head to taste and tease, he felt her fingers thread gently through his hair.
Veronica relaxed back on the bed, and allowed the sensations to roll over her. The sheriff was paying careful attention to every inch of her body, and she was enjoying it thoroughly. Although she would never tell him, she had missed this. She had missed him.
She moaned softly as he worked his way down. This would be a rare treat for her. Logan had a talented tongue that he wasn't afraid to use, but he always expected her to reciprocate, so she hadn't encouraged it. She knew Lamb wouldn't ask that of her tonight.
He laughed out loud when he got her jeans off and saw her underwear. "Ho Ho Ho" was printed all over them in bright red and green letters. "I guess that answers that question."
"What question?"
He smirked. "Whether you've been naughty or nice."
"I'm pretty sure you already knew the answer to that."
"Yeah, but I don't mind seeing the proof." He hooked his finger through the waistband and slowly pulled it down, leaving her bare before him.
It was a little odd, being completely naked while he was still fully dressed. But Veronica didn't feel vulnerable or embarrassed. Instead, her focus was on the heat of his gaze, the gentle brush of his fingers on her thighs.
Damn, she was beautiful. It wasn't like that was news, but it still struck him when they were together like this. He wondered sometimes if it was just a set-up for a big cosmic joke, because it didn't make sense that she would be with him, even for hot, meaningless sex.
If it was a cosmic joke, he sure as hell intended to enjoy it while it lasted. He had a feeling he would never be able to look at a Santa hat quite the same way.
Kneeling at the foot of the bed, he went to work on making her scream.
Cross-posted to veronicamarsfic and angel_grace.
Author: angel_grace
Rating: R
Pairing: Veronica/Lamb
Word Count: 1705
Spoilers: Makes reference to one of the confirmed S3 mystery arcs. All details of that mystery are pure speculation.
Disclaimer: Veronica Mars and the characters depicted here were created by Rob Thomas. They are used without permission. No copyright infringement is intended, and no profit is being made from their use.
Summary: Part 4 in my "Sigma Epsilon Chi" series, this will probably make more sense if you read part 1, part 2, and part 3 first. Veronica tries to enjoy the start of her winter break, while Lamb tries to make amends for the incident at the Siren Song.
Veronica placed the last of the Christmas ornaments on the tree and smiled. Perfect. She had survived her first semester of college, and now she was looking forward to a month without classes, papers, or exams. She knew she'd keep busy helping her dad at the office, but tonight she was relishing the time off.
Keith was in L.A., tracking down yet another bail jumper, and she wanted to surprise him with a decorated apartment when he came home. She was hanging a strand of colored lights around the window when someone knocked on the door.
Her Christmas cheer disappeared when she opened it and found Sheriff Lamb on the other side. They hadn't spoken since shortly after the incident at the Siren Song, and she didn't see why that should change now. Without a word, she began to swing the door shut.
He stopped it with his hand. "I have information about the Hearst case."
She looked at him with narrowed eyes. "And that's the only reason you're here?"
He hooked his thumbs through his belt loops and glanced down at his feet. "No, but I figure it's the only way you'll let me in the door."
He was right, but she wasn't about to confirm it for him. Silently, she stood aside and allowed him to enter the apartment.
Lamb studied her out of the corner of his eye. She should have looked ridiculous, with the bright red Santa hat perched on her head. Instead, his brain--and parts south--was flooded with all sorts of "naughty elf" fantasies.
Veronica sat down on the couch and stared up at him. "Talk," she commanded, her voice cold.
He took his time answering, first glancing around at the holiday decorations and then settling into a chair. Finally, he said, "We sent the evidence in the Hearst case to the crime lab in San Diego for additional processing. They have better equipment than we do, and we thought they might catch something we missed."
One eyebrow arched up. "Wow, it almost sounds like you're serious about solving this case," she remarked snidely.
"Do we really need to have this argument again?"
She gazed hard at him, trying to read his mind. He looked...tired. And frustrated. "I guess not. What did the San Diego lab find?"
"They ran DNA analysis on all of the rape kits from the victims. We did it on the first four, and they all matched a single unknown donor. After that, when the m.o. never changed, we figured it was still the same guy."
"I take it that's not the case?"
He shook his head. "Every single victim reported the exact same m.o., but the DNA says we're dealing with at least three perps. Could be more, since some of the girls showered before reporting the rape."
"You think they're all working together."
"They have to be. The crimes aren't just similar--every last detail is the same."
"Does that support the theory that the rapists are in a fraternity?"
He nodded. "With how close-knit those organizations are, it's still our best lead."
"There's just one thing I don't understand."
"What's that?"
She leaned forward, the fluffy white ball on her hat falling in front of her face. "Why are you telling me all this?"
He looked her in the eye, his expression surprisingly serious. "I already told you, it was the only way you'd let me in the door."
She leaned back on the couch, arms crossed over her chest. "So why are you really here?"
He wanted to apologize, to tell her he'd been an ass, to make her believe that the sex was amazing and he wasn't willing to give it--or her, a tiny, obnoxious voice whispered--up. "Look, I know things got out of hand at the Siren Song..."
"Yes, they did," she snapped.
"I wasn't trying to make you feel like a...a..."
"Whore?" she supplied bitterly. "Prostitute? Hooker? Slut? I can go on..."
"Veronica..."
"What? What do you expect me to say here? 'No problem, don't worry about it, let's go jump in the sack'? I can't just pretend it didn't happen!"
"What do you want me to do? I can't take back what happened!"
"An apology would be nice, for starters."
"I thought that's what I was doing."
Her laugh was sharp, bitter. "Apologizing means that you actually have to say that you're sorry, not just assume that I know. On certain occasions it also requires flowers, candy, or other gifts."
"I take it this is one of those occasions," he remarked dryly.
She shrugged. "Wouldn't hurt."
He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face in frustration. She was right. He knew she was right. But that didn't make it any easier to say the words.
His temper flared. And why should he say it? It was just sex. Veronica Mars had hated him for the past three years, maybe longer. What difference did it make if she kept hating him?
On the other hand, the sex was really damn good. And he sure wouldn't mind seeing her in that Santa hat and nothing else...
His mind made up, he mustered his best "sincere" face and said, "I am sorry. I never should have taken advantage of the situation that way."
She cocked her head to one side. "And?"
"And...it will never happen again."
She snorted, obviously not believing that. "And?"
And? There was another "and"? No one had told him there would be another "and"! "And...I'll make it up to you?" he finished lamely.
Her expression was skeptical. "I'm not seeing any flowers or chocolates, Don."
Was it a good sign that she was using his first name? He thought it might be, but he could never be sure with Veronica... As he was pondering, inspiration struck. Standing up, he moved to sit beside her on the couch.
"You're right," he said, leaning in close, his breath warm on her cheek, "I didn't bring flowers or chocolate, but I can make it up to you."
She struggled to ignore the sudden rush of heat through her body. "I'm not going to have sex with you," she told him firmly.
"Wouldn't dream of asking you to," he replied, his hand coming to rest on the small of her back. "What time will Keith be home?"
She refused to sigh with pleasure when his warm hand found the bare skin beneath the hem of her shirt. "Six o'clock--tomorrow night."
Lamb's smile was predatory. "Plenty of time, then."
"For what?" she asked, a little afraid of the answer.
"To make you scream," he replied softly, catching her earlobe lightly between his teeth.
She couldn't stifle a small moan. "I already told you--I'm not having sex with you," she gasped out.
"You don't have to do anything at all," he practically purred.
Oh. Oh. Realization began to dawn, and Veronica had no objection to that. "Well, when you put it that way..." she murmured, turning her head to meet his searching mouth.
The kiss was leisurely, sensuous. He had missed the taste of her--not that he would ever admit it out loud. Tonight he planned to taste her thoroughly. He broke away long enough to whisper, "There's just one rule."
"What's that?"
"You have to leave the hat on."
Her laughter washed away any residual anger between them. In a move worthy of Rhett Butler, he scooped her up off the couch and headed down the hall to her bedroom.
As he set her down on the bed, he tried not to think about the way this room used to look, when there were stuffed animals on the bed and Barbies tucked neatly in the closet. Veronica wasn't a little girl anymore--she hadn't been in a long time.
He had her shirt off in seconds, and couldn't help chuckling at what she wore underneath. "There are candy canes on your bra."
She rolled her eyes. "Thank you, Captain Obvious." Her smile was wicked. "Wait until you see what's on my underwear."
He groaned. This girl was going to be the death of him. But God, what a way to die. With deft fingers, he made quick work of her bra. As he bent his head to taste and tease, he felt her fingers thread gently through his hair.
Veronica relaxed back on the bed, and allowed the sensations to roll over her. The sheriff was paying careful attention to every inch of her body, and she was enjoying it thoroughly. Although she would never tell him, she had missed this. She had missed him.
She moaned softly as he worked his way down. This would be a rare treat for her. Logan had a talented tongue that he wasn't afraid to use, but he always expected her to reciprocate, so she hadn't encouraged it. She knew Lamb wouldn't ask that of her tonight.
He laughed out loud when he got her jeans off and saw her underwear. "Ho Ho Ho" was printed all over them in bright red and green letters. "I guess that answers that question."
"What question?"
He smirked. "Whether you've been naughty or nice."
"I'm pretty sure you already knew the answer to that."
"Yeah, but I don't mind seeing the proof." He hooked his finger through the waistband and slowly pulled it down, leaving her bare before him.
It was a little odd, being completely naked while he was still fully dressed. But Veronica didn't feel vulnerable or embarrassed. Instead, her focus was on the heat of his gaze, the gentle brush of his fingers on her thighs.
Damn, she was beautiful. It wasn't like that was news, but it still struck him when they were together like this. He wondered sometimes if it was just a set-up for a big cosmic joke, because it didn't make sense that she would be with him, even for hot, meaningless sex.
If it was a cosmic joke, he sure as hell intended to enjoy it while it lasted. He had a feeling he would never be able to look at a Santa hat quite the same way.
Kneeling at the foot of the bed, he went to work on making her scream.
Cross-posted to veronicamarsfic and angel_grace.