VM fic: Isosceles Triangle (V/Lamb, Madison) PG-13
Title: Isosceles Triangle
Author: Shealynn88
Rating: PG-13 (sexual content)
Characters: V/Lamb, Madison
Word Count: ~1200 words
Spoilers/warnings: Rapes of Graff
Summary: Veronica seriously questioned her sanity every time she made out with Don Lamb. Which somehow didn’t change the fact that it kept happening.
Disclaimer: Still not mine.
Author’s Note: Could be considered a follow-up to A Trip to Hell, A Trip to Hell, Revisited and You Take the High Road. Stands alone.
Veronica noticed when she walked into the office that the desk looked much cleaner than usual. It seemed the Sheriff had gotten sick of picking his nameplate, stapler, and whatever papers had collected in his inbox up off the floor every time she stopped by.
She took a deep breath. She wasn’t here for that. She just had some more information for him, in case he ever decided to get it in his head to actually do his job. That was all.
“Veronica Mars,” he said, standing up behind his desk and giving her his best self-satisfied smile. “Did you miss me?”
“I did,” she said, shutting the door and tossing a few receipts on his desk. “I’m pining away without you.” She sighed deeply. “I just can’t go a minute without thinking of you, and your enormous…lack of decency. And intelligence, and generally, any socially redeeming characteristics what-so-ever.” She gave him her sweetest smile.
His expression darkened, and she could practically hear the wheels churning in his head as he looked for a comeback. “What’s this?” he asked finally, grabbing the papers she’d thrown on his desk and moving around to perch on the newly-clear edge of it.
Veronica took a step back before she could stop herself. “Receipts. From the Camelot. Seems a bunch of the PCHers get together there every Friday night to have a high stakes game or two with the local criminal element. I thought, you know, if you were bored or something, you could take a few of your boys over there and maybe…oh, earn the five-figure salary Neptune pays you to sit on your ass all day?”
His wide, tolerant smile never reached his eyes as he stood up and moved closer, tossing the receipts on the desk behind him. “Is that why you came by?”
She stood her ground. “Yup. That’s why. I keep thinking that, when I go off to college, you might actually consider doing the job that my dad and I have been doing for you…” She swallowed hard as he eased toward her, almost touching. Suddenly standing her ground didn’t seem like such a great idea. “…for the past…” She inched back a little too slowly, and he managed to snag one of her belt loops with a finger just before he buried his other hand in her hair and her train of thought went on down the tracks without her.
“Why don’t we stick to what we’re good at,” he whispered fiercely, dragging her against him.
“Oh, so you’ll hit on the barely legal and I’ll single-handedly solve crime?” she managed, her voice more-or-less steady.
“Exactly,” he growled.
She really had to start bringing Backup with her when she came in here. This was just entirely too fucked up, even for her.
He turned her easily and lifted her onto the desk, and she let him because she was starting to get a bruise on her back from too many days of being pressed against the edge, and this was easier anyway.
If you could call making out with Don Lamb easy. Which she didn’t. In fact, she seriously questioned her sanity every time it happened. Which somehow didn’t change the fact that it kept happening.
She blamed it on the fact that she hadn’t been with anyone since the Jurassic Age, and she had teenage hormones that weren’t as connected to her brain as she might have hoped. And Don Lamb had many, many, many faults, (which she tended to list in her head at times like these, when his hands were just sliding under her shirt and they were both breathing really harshly, and no, that wasn’t his gun poking her in the thigh this time, because he wasn’t wearing one) but being a bad kisser was not one of them.
Which made sense, because he had to have some sort of redeeming quality, somewhere, didn’t he?
And didn’t that innocent thought lead to some very inappropriate ones... Veronica wasn’t sure if the sudden temperature spike was their shared body heat or the undeniable hotness of his mouth on hers (and on her neck, and on her earlobe), or an indicator of her sudden arrival in the 2nd circle of Hell.
Her thoughts were just getting pleasantly fuzzy and Lamb’s hands were starting to drift a little too far south when the door opened abruptly.
“-expecting me. Oh!”
Madison Sinclair stopped dead in her tracks as Lamb turned slightly and Veronica tried desperately to straighten her shirt and hair and look like they weren’t doing anything at all untoward.
It didn’t work very well. “Oh. My. God,” Madison said, the set of her jaw promising an incoming tirade. “I can’t believe…Veronica Mars?” She looked accusingly at Lamb. “You have got to be kidding me.”
“This isn’t what it looks like,” Lamb said, trying to step back.
Veronica snorted derisively as she disengaged her leg from where it was curled around his thigh. It was exactly what it looked like.
“Really? Because it looks like you were just playing tonsil hockey with…her,” Madison accused.
Veronica finally found her voice. “Oh, you better watch this one, Sheriff. Her powers of deduction may well rival your own.”
Madison turned toward her, teeth grinding so furiously that Veronica wondered if she was going to need to have her caps redone. Suddenly a ‘trip to the dentist’ had a whole new meaning.
The giggling probably didn’t help with Madison’s anger issues, but Veronica couldn’t find it in herself to be sorry. Especially when Madison stalked forward, looking intent on bodily harm before Veronica reached down nonchalantly and grabbed her bag from the floor. Ah, yes, that bad-ass rep really did come in handy. She didn’t even have to hunt up the mace from the bottom of the bag. (The taser, unfortunately, had to be left in the car when she came to the office. Jeez, one teensy mistake, and Lamb got all offended and demanded that it be removed from her person before she came into the office…)
“You have so not heard the last of this,” Madison finally hissed. “When I get through with you, you’re going to wish you’d never touched him."
“Oh, I’m way ahead of you, there,” Veronica assured.
Madison seethed for another minute, then made a theatrical exit, slamming the door behind her.
Veronica fought not to laugh. “Wow. You even suck at cheating. Did you have to take extra classes to become this ineffective? Because really, you do it so well.”
“Shut up,” he growled, still watching the door.
Veronica slung her bag over her shoulder and tapped the phone that was just edging off the desk. “I hear there’s no way to say ‘I’m sorry I made out with your high school nemesis,’ like a dozen roses and some rum and coke.” She paused at the door. “Don’t skimp on the rum, though, and make sure the coke’s diet.”
She was halfway down the hallway, getting very pointed non-stares from one of the new deputies, when she thought of another key piece of info he might need.
Veronica opened the door without knocking, and immediately regretted it.
“Oh,” she said, averting her eyes as Lamb scrambled behind his desk and the overly loud sound of his zipper reached her ears. That was so incredibly not a visual she needed. “Sorry,” she said, staring hard at one of the file cabinets. “I just wanted to say, you might not want to let her pour the drinks.”
She chanced one side-long glance at him, and he was grinning like the Cheshire cat. She looked away quickly. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go bleach my brain.”
She stalked away, trying to keep her dignity more-or-less intact. She’d had better days.
Author: Shealynn88
Rating: PG-13 (sexual content)
Characters: V/Lamb, Madison
Word Count: ~1200 words
Spoilers/warnings: Rapes of Graff
Summary: Veronica seriously questioned her sanity every time she made out with Don Lamb. Which somehow didn’t change the fact that it kept happening.
Disclaimer: Still not mine.
Author’s Note: Could be considered a follow-up to A Trip to Hell, A Trip to Hell, Revisited and You Take the High Road. Stands alone.
Veronica noticed when she walked into the office that the desk looked much cleaner than usual. It seemed the Sheriff had gotten sick of picking his nameplate, stapler, and whatever papers had collected in his inbox up off the floor every time she stopped by.
She took a deep breath. She wasn’t here for that. She just had some more information for him, in case he ever decided to get it in his head to actually do his job. That was all.
“Veronica Mars,” he said, standing up behind his desk and giving her his best self-satisfied smile. “Did you miss me?”
“I did,” she said, shutting the door and tossing a few receipts on his desk. “I’m pining away without you.” She sighed deeply. “I just can’t go a minute without thinking of you, and your enormous…lack of decency. And intelligence, and generally, any socially redeeming characteristics what-so-ever.” She gave him her sweetest smile.
His expression darkened, and she could practically hear the wheels churning in his head as he looked for a comeback. “What’s this?” he asked finally, grabbing the papers she’d thrown on his desk and moving around to perch on the newly-clear edge of it.
Veronica took a step back before she could stop herself. “Receipts. From the Camelot. Seems a bunch of the PCHers get together there every Friday night to have a high stakes game or two with the local criminal element. I thought, you know, if you were bored or something, you could take a few of your boys over there and maybe…oh, earn the five-figure salary Neptune pays you to sit on your ass all day?”
His wide, tolerant smile never reached his eyes as he stood up and moved closer, tossing the receipts on the desk behind him. “Is that why you came by?”
She stood her ground. “Yup. That’s why. I keep thinking that, when I go off to college, you might actually consider doing the job that my dad and I have been doing for you…” She swallowed hard as he eased toward her, almost touching. Suddenly standing her ground didn’t seem like such a great idea. “…for the past…” She inched back a little too slowly, and he managed to snag one of her belt loops with a finger just before he buried his other hand in her hair and her train of thought went on down the tracks without her.
“Why don’t we stick to what we’re good at,” he whispered fiercely, dragging her against him.
“Oh, so you’ll hit on the barely legal and I’ll single-handedly solve crime?” she managed, her voice more-or-less steady.
“Exactly,” he growled.
She really had to start bringing Backup with her when she came in here. This was just entirely too fucked up, even for her.
He turned her easily and lifted her onto the desk, and she let him because she was starting to get a bruise on her back from too many days of being pressed against the edge, and this was easier anyway.
If you could call making out with Don Lamb easy. Which she didn’t. In fact, she seriously questioned her sanity every time it happened. Which somehow didn’t change the fact that it kept happening.
She blamed it on the fact that she hadn’t been with anyone since the Jurassic Age, and she had teenage hormones that weren’t as connected to her brain as she might have hoped. And Don Lamb had many, many, many faults, (which she tended to list in her head at times like these, when his hands were just sliding under her shirt and they were both breathing really harshly, and no, that wasn’t his gun poking her in the thigh this time, because he wasn’t wearing one) but being a bad kisser was not one of them.
Which made sense, because he had to have some sort of redeeming quality, somewhere, didn’t he?
And didn’t that innocent thought lead to some very inappropriate ones... Veronica wasn’t sure if the sudden temperature spike was their shared body heat or the undeniable hotness of his mouth on hers (and on her neck, and on her earlobe), or an indicator of her sudden arrival in the 2nd circle of Hell.
Her thoughts were just getting pleasantly fuzzy and Lamb’s hands were starting to drift a little too far south when the door opened abruptly.
“-expecting me. Oh!”
Madison Sinclair stopped dead in her tracks as Lamb turned slightly and Veronica tried desperately to straighten her shirt and hair and look like they weren’t doing anything at all untoward.
It didn’t work very well. “Oh. My. God,” Madison said, the set of her jaw promising an incoming tirade. “I can’t believe…Veronica Mars?” She looked accusingly at Lamb. “You have got to be kidding me.”
“This isn’t what it looks like,” Lamb said, trying to step back.
Veronica snorted derisively as she disengaged her leg from where it was curled around his thigh. It was exactly what it looked like.
“Really? Because it looks like you were just playing tonsil hockey with…her,” Madison accused.
Veronica finally found her voice. “Oh, you better watch this one, Sheriff. Her powers of deduction may well rival your own.”
Madison turned toward her, teeth grinding so furiously that Veronica wondered if she was going to need to have her caps redone. Suddenly a ‘trip to the dentist’ had a whole new meaning.
The giggling probably didn’t help with Madison’s anger issues, but Veronica couldn’t find it in herself to be sorry. Especially when Madison stalked forward, looking intent on bodily harm before Veronica reached down nonchalantly and grabbed her bag from the floor. Ah, yes, that bad-ass rep really did come in handy. She didn’t even have to hunt up the mace from the bottom of the bag. (The taser, unfortunately, had to be left in the car when she came to the office. Jeez, one teensy mistake, and Lamb got all offended and demanded that it be removed from her person before she came into the office…)
“You have so not heard the last of this,” Madison finally hissed. “When I get through with you, you’re going to wish you’d never touched him."
“Oh, I’m way ahead of you, there,” Veronica assured.
Madison seethed for another minute, then made a theatrical exit, slamming the door behind her.
Veronica fought not to laugh. “Wow. You even suck at cheating. Did you have to take extra classes to become this ineffective? Because really, you do it so well.”
“Shut up,” he growled, still watching the door.
Veronica slung her bag over her shoulder and tapped the phone that was just edging off the desk. “I hear there’s no way to say ‘I’m sorry I made out with your high school nemesis,’ like a dozen roses and some rum and coke.” She paused at the door. “Don’t skimp on the rum, though, and make sure the coke’s diet.”
She was halfway down the hallway, getting very pointed non-stares from one of the new deputies, when she thought of another key piece of info he might need.
Veronica opened the door without knocking, and immediately regretted it.
“Oh,” she said, averting her eyes as Lamb scrambled behind his desk and the overly loud sound of his zipper reached her ears. That was so incredibly not a visual she needed. “Sorry,” she said, staring hard at one of the file cabinets. “I just wanted to say, you might not want to let her pour the drinks.”
She chanced one side-long glance at him, and he was grinning like the Cheshire cat. She looked away quickly. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go bleach my brain.”
She stalked away, trying to keep her dignity more-or-less intact. She’d had better days.