What Goes Down (Part 15): Vice And Principles
Title: Vice And Principles
Fandom: Veronica Mars
Pairing(s): Lamb/Veronica
Word Count: 2197
Rating: R
Summary: After helping Lamb with another case, Veronica is surprised by a not-so-welcome visitor.
Notes: Fifteenth in the What Goes Down series. AU from episode 3:2 - My Big Fat Greek Rush Week; almost entirely AU after episode 3:9 - Spit & Eggs.
Previously: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14
"Honey, lunch is ready!"
Veronica emerged from her room, smiling. "You ordered out for lunch?" she asked. "Is this a special occasion?"
Her father was still smiling, but a little less now, and Veronica rolled her eyes.
"Let me guess," she said dryly. "You're not going to be home for dinner tonight. You'll be working on your case late, you're really sorry, and this is your way of making it up to me."
Keith grimaced as he bit into his food. "I may not be home at all," he confessed eventually. "But I am really sorry, honey."
Veronica shrugged, trying not to let it bother her.
"Are you mad at me?" he asked.
She made an effort to smile at him. "How can I be mad when there's lasagne?"
When she had finished her lunch, Veronica looked at her father again. "So," she said, trying to keep her voice light. "I know you said you weren't going to tell me anything ... but you've been gone an awful lot."
Keith looked up sharply. "I did say I wasn't going to tell you about the case." He paused, and finished his own lasagne. "And I'm still not going to tell you anything."
Veronica shrugged. "I'd just like to know what I've been losing my father to for the past few months."
"Veronica." Keith tone held a warning. "I'm serious. Stay out of this."
Veronica didn't say anything else, but Keith continued to look at her, and she shook her head. "Fine," she said. "Okay. Consider me officially staying out of it."
"Okay," Keith said finally. He sounded unconvinced, but he got up, kissing her on the forehead. "Be good while I'm gone," he said, and Veronica smiled.
"I always am."
Officially, Veronica was staying out of the case. Unofficially? She had no idea what was causing her father to stay out at all hours of the night, or how it was connected to the Fitzpatricks, but she was going to find out.
Waiting what she deemed a suitable length of time to make sure he wasn't coming back, Veronica snuck into her father's room. It was unlikely that he would have kept any notes lying around the house, especially considering how much he didn't want her involved, but she figured it was at least worth a shot.
Half an hour later, still empty-handed, Veronica was so engrossed in rifling through the desk that she almost didn't hear the front door open. Swearing under her breath, she rushed out of the room.
"Dad? I wasn't -" Veronica stopped short when she saw Lamb.
"You weren't what?" Lamb asked, when she didn't say anything.
Veronica ignored the question. "Haven't you ever heard of knocking?"
Lamb shrugged. "The door was open."
"And that gives you the right to barge into people's houses unannounced?"
"No." Lamb smiled, and pointed to his badge. "But this does."
"Not without a warrant," Veronica countered.
"So now I need a warrant to get you to see me?"
Eventually, Veronica gave up, and smiled. "No," she said. "So is this just a social visit?"
Lamb shook his head. "I need your help on a case."
"Another one?" Veronica asked. "What would you do without me?"
He smiled, and Veronica could guess the answer. "So, are you free tonight?" he asked.
"For crime and intrigue? I'm always free."
Lamb's face fell comically. "And here I thought it was all about me."
Veronica chose not to answer that. "So what's the case?" she asked.
"Alleged prostitution," he said. "We have several sources claiming that the Eighth Wonder has branched out a little; they say the girls working there do more than just strip for their money."
"The Eighth Wonder?" Veronica asked. "Seedy place."
"I'm a seedy kind of guy," Lamb said.
"So you want me to, what? Try to get a job there?"
Lamb scowled and moved closer to Veronica. "Definitely not. I'm going to check it out tonight, and I thought you might want to come along."
Veronica smiled. "Translation: you need to case the club, but a guy who walks into the club alone and stays alone is bound to raise a few eyebrows."
"More or less."
"So I'm your beard," Veronica said, and Lamb shook his head.
"I like to think of it as more of a date," he said. He paused, and when he spoke again, Veronica realised that her chance to correct his choice of words had probably come and gone.
"So I'll pick you up at ten?" he asked, and Veronica just nodded.
-
Veronica tried not to fidget with her top as she waited for Lamb. She couldn't really say she was comfortable in her choice of clothing, but she thought it would probably be considered tasteful by the standards of the Eighth Wonder. Anything more, and she was afraid of standing out.
Not that she really wanted to fit in, either.
When Veronica finally opened the door to Lamb - and she only hoped it was Lamb - it was clear that he didn't share her reservations.
"Wow," he said after a moment, and Veronica blushed. All over.
He took her arm as he led her towards his car, and Veronica let him, adjusting her skirt quickly as she sat down. Once he had got in beside her Lamb waited for a moment before driving off, as if he was composing himself, and they sat in silence on the way over.
"Are you ready?" he asked her when they arrived, and she nodded.
The bouncer barely spared them a glance as they passed, and Veronica tried not to look too nervous as they entered the club. The Eighth Wonder was everything she'd heard and less, tacky decor and tackier clientele. She was half surprised that she didn't see Vinnie Vanlowe lurking at a table somewhere; this seemed like exactly the kind of place he'd frequent.
Lamb guided Veronica to a booth in the corner, and a waitress came over to take their order. "What'll it be?" she asked in a bored voice.
"Scotch on the rocks," Lamb said, and looked at Veronica. "And a vodka and lemon."
When their drinks arrived, Lamb moved closer to Veronica, placing a hand on her thigh. She didn't push it away.
"So what do you think?" she asked him.
Lamb looked at her suggestively, and Veronica could tell exactly what he was thinking. "I mean, about the case," she clarified.
"Oh." Lamb took a drink. "That." He looked around the club, and shrugged. "I guess we wait and see."
As they sat, Veronica looked around the room, and frowned. For all the seediness practically radiating from every corner of the club, she couldn't see anything untoward - or rather, anything illegal - going on. Maybe they were here too early. Maybe Lamb's information had been wrong.
Maybe this was a complete bust.
They ordered more drinks.
Way too many rounds later, Lamb's hand crept further up her thigh, which didn't surprise Veronica. What did surprise her was that she enjoyed it.
And then his hand reached up even further, until it was no longer on her thigh, and Veronica left it there a moment, his fingers edging under the elastic of her underwear, before she slid away.
"I have to go to the bathroom," she told him, and it was almost the truth.
The women's bathrooms were, unpredictably, not as filthy as she'd imagined, though she didn't like to think about the probable state of the men's. Splashing water on her face, Veronica looked up into the mirror. And found that she was actually smiling.
By the time she made her way back into the club, Lamb was already standing, looking towards her. "Ready to go?" he asked when she reached him.
Veronica nodded.
She didn't bother to rearrange her skirt when she got into the car again, which was probably a mistake; Lamb's eyes stayed on the road half the time, at best. He walked her to the door when they reached her apartment, and Veronica had barely managed to get her keys in the lock when he kissed her, grabbing her hips and pulling her towards him. She kissed him back, tasting scotch and lemon, and moaned as he bent down to kiss her neck.
"Inside," she told him huskily, pushing the door open. Lamb followed her, barely giving her time to shut the door behind them before his hands were on her again, cupping her ass through her skirt, pulling her so close to him she could feel every hard curve of his body.
Veronica threw her head back as Lamb kissed her throat, whispering against her so softly she couldn't make out the words. He reached his hand up her skirt, and Veronica gasped as his hand grazed the top of her thigh. She leaned forward to kiss his jaw, his neck, and bit her lip as his fingers slid once more under the edge of her underwear.
"Wait," Veronica managed to whisper when she finally got her breath back, pulling back suddenly. Lamb looked at her, confusion and concern warring with lust and frustration in his features.
"You can't stay," she told him, trying unsuccessfully to pull herself together. "My dad could get home, and if he catches you ..."
Veronica had expected Lamb to argue, but instead he just nodded. He kissed her one last time, until Veronica felt her resolve starting to weaken, and finally pulled away.
As he shut the door behind him, Veronica breathed out. And resigned herself to a very long night, alone.
-
Veronica tried not to think of Lamb the next morning, when her dad still wasn't home. She tried very hard not to think of his body wrapped around hers, of his fingers teasing her gently, his breath hot in her ear.
It wasn't working.
But she had other things beside Lamb to think of, too, and Veronica tried to focus her attention on them as she walked into the office.
There had been no notes about the Fitzpatrick case at home, which wasn't surprising. Veronica tossed a cursory glance at the desk before going straight for the safe, hoping her father hadn't changed the combination since the last time.
He hadn't.
As the safe clicked open, Veronica began to pull out files, looking for anything marked "Fitzpatrick." There was nothing. But as she looked through a second time, another name caught her eye.
What was her father still doing with a file on Kendall Casablancas?
Veronica pulled the file, and sat down at the desk to read over it. Whatever she had been expecting, she reflected a moment later, it hadn't been this.
Kendall Casablancas was dead, according to Keith's handwriting. She had somehow got her hands on millions of dollars, and Cormac Fitzpatrick had killed her for her trouble.
And then, Keith apparently suspected, Liam Fitzpatrick had killed his brother.
Veronica shivered as she read over the file a second time. Her father had been right. She hadn't wanted to know about any of this.
She was still staring at the notes when she became aware of a figure standing in the doorway. She hurriedly shoved the notes in a drawer, though she had no idea what she'd say if her father had caught her.
"A little light reading?"
Definitely not her father.
"Vinnie," Veronica said, looking up with a fake smile. "Funny, I was just thinking about you last night."
Vinnie leered at her, and Veronica cringed. "Ew. No. Not like that."
Vinnie shrugged, and sat down across from her. "Too bad," he said. "Although, it's funny you should say that, because I happened to be thinking about you last night, too. Seeing you, too."
He slid a file across the desk to her, and Veronica frowned. "What's this?" she asked warily.
Vinnie smiled. "Take a look."
Hesitantly, Veronica picked up the folder and looked at the photographs inside. It took her a minute to register what she was seeing, but then her mouth fell open in shock.
Her and Lamb. Her and Lamb at the Bayside. Her and Lamb outside the Bayside. Her and Lamb at the Eighth Wonder, with his hand up her skirt. Her and Lamb outside her apartment, him pinning her to the wall.
When Veronica finally looked up, Vinnie was still smiling. She wasn't.
"What are these?" she asked, trying to keep her voice from shaking. "Why do you have these?"
Vinnie winked at her. "You know I can't reveal my clients."
It took all of Veronica's self-control not to leap across the desk and choke the information out of him.
"Easy, girl," Vinnie said, and Veronica imagined that at least some of her anger must have shown on her face. "I'm not going to hand these over to anyone. I just thought you might like the keepsake."
"And besides." He leaned back in his chair. "This means that now, you owe me a favour. A pretty big one, I imagine."
Veronica's mind shuffled back instinctively to the files in her father's desk. To Lamb's case. With an effort, she smiled.
"I might have to owe you another one," she said, leaning forward. "Because I need your help with something."
Next: Part 16, Part 17, Part 18
Fandom: Veronica Mars
Pairing(s): Lamb/Veronica
Word Count: 2197
Rating: R
Summary: After helping Lamb with another case, Veronica is surprised by a not-so-welcome visitor.
Notes: Fifteenth in the What Goes Down series. AU from episode 3:2 - My Big Fat Greek Rush Week; almost entirely AU after episode 3:9 - Spit & Eggs.
Previously: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14
"Honey, lunch is ready!"
Veronica emerged from her room, smiling. "You ordered out for lunch?" she asked. "Is this a special occasion?"
Her father was still smiling, but a little less now, and Veronica rolled her eyes.
"Let me guess," she said dryly. "You're not going to be home for dinner tonight. You'll be working on your case late, you're really sorry, and this is your way of making it up to me."
Keith grimaced as he bit into his food. "I may not be home at all," he confessed eventually. "But I am really sorry, honey."
Veronica shrugged, trying not to let it bother her.
"Are you mad at me?" he asked.
She made an effort to smile at him. "How can I be mad when there's lasagne?"
When she had finished her lunch, Veronica looked at her father again. "So," she said, trying to keep her voice light. "I know you said you weren't going to tell me anything ... but you've been gone an awful lot."
Keith looked up sharply. "I did say I wasn't going to tell you about the case." He paused, and finished his own lasagne. "And I'm still not going to tell you anything."
Veronica shrugged. "I'd just like to know what I've been losing my father to for the past few months."
"Veronica." Keith tone held a warning. "I'm serious. Stay out of this."
Veronica didn't say anything else, but Keith continued to look at her, and she shook her head. "Fine," she said. "Okay. Consider me officially staying out of it."
"Okay," Keith said finally. He sounded unconvinced, but he got up, kissing her on the forehead. "Be good while I'm gone," he said, and Veronica smiled.
"I always am."
Officially, Veronica was staying out of the case. Unofficially? She had no idea what was causing her father to stay out at all hours of the night, or how it was connected to the Fitzpatricks, but she was going to find out.
Waiting what she deemed a suitable length of time to make sure he wasn't coming back, Veronica snuck into her father's room. It was unlikely that he would have kept any notes lying around the house, especially considering how much he didn't want her involved, but she figured it was at least worth a shot.
Half an hour later, still empty-handed, Veronica was so engrossed in rifling through the desk that she almost didn't hear the front door open. Swearing under her breath, she rushed out of the room.
"Dad? I wasn't -" Veronica stopped short when she saw Lamb.
"You weren't what?" Lamb asked, when she didn't say anything.
Veronica ignored the question. "Haven't you ever heard of knocking?"
Lamb shrugged. "The door was open."
"And that gives you the right to barge into people's houses unannounced?"
"No." Lamb smiled, and pointed to his badge. "But this does."
"Not without a warrant," Veronica countered.
"So now I need a warrant to get you to see me?"
Eventually, Veronica gave up, and smiled. "No," she said. "So is this just a social visit?"
Lamb shook his head. "I need your help on a case."
"Another one?" Veronica asked. "What would you do without me?"
He smiled, and Veronica could guess the answer. "So, are you free tonight?" he asked.
"For crime and intrigue? I'm always free."
Lamb's face fell comically. "And here I thought it was all about me."
Veronica chose not to answer that. "So what's the case?" she asked.
"Alleged prostitution," he said. "We have several sources claiming that the Eighth Wonder has branched out a little; they say the girls working there do more than just strip for their money."
"The Eighth Wonder?" Veronica asked. "Seedy place."
"I'm a seedy kind of guy," Lamb said.
"So you want me to, what? Try to get a job there?"
Lamb scowled and moved closer to Veronica. "Definitely not. I'm going to check it out tonight, and I thought you might want to come along."
Veronica smiled. "Translation: you need to case the club, but a guy who walks into the club alone and stays alone is bound to raise a few eyebrows."
"More or less."
"So I'm your beard," Veronica said, and Lamb shook his head.
"I like to think of it as more of a date," he said. He paused, and when he spoke again, Veronica realised that her chance to correct his choice of words had probably come and gone.
"So I'll pick you up at ten?" he asked, and Veronica just nodded.
-
Veronica tried not to fidget with her top as she waited for Lamb. She couldn't really say she was comfortable in her choice of clothing, but she thought it would probably be considered tasteful by the standards of the Eighth Wonder. Anything more, and she was afraid of standing out.
Not that she really wanted to fit in, either.
When Veronica finally opened the door to Lamb - and she only hoped it was Lamb - it was clear that he didn't share her reservations.
"Wow," he said after a moment, and Veronica blushed. All over.
He took her arm as he led her towards his car, and Veronica let him, adjusting her skirt quickly as she sat down. Once he had got in beside her Lamb waited for a moment before driving off, as if he was composing himself, and they sat in silence on the way over.
"Are you ready?" he asked her when they arrived, and she nodded.
The bouncer barely spared them a glance as they passed, and Veronica tried not to look too nervous as they entered the club. The Eighth Wonder was everything she'd heard and less, tacky decor and tackier clientele. She was half surprised that she didn't see Vinnie Vanlowe lurking at a table somewhere; this seemed like exactly the kind of place he'd frequent.
Lamb guided Veronica to a booth in the corner, and a waitress came over to take their order. "What'll it be?" she asked in a bored voice.
"Scotch on the rocks," Lamb said, and looked at Veronica. "And a vodka and lemon."
When their drinks arrived, Lamb moved closer to Veronica, placing a hand on her thigh. She didn't push it away.
"So what do you think?" she asked him.
Lamb looked at her suggestively, and Veronica could tell exactly what he was thinking. "I mean, about the case," she clarified.
"Oh." Lamb took a drink. "That." He looked around the club, and shrugged. "I guess we wait and see."
As they sat, Veronica looked around the room, and frowned. For all the seediness practically radiating from every corner of the club, she couldn't see anything untoward - or rather, anything illegal - going on. Maybe they were here too early. Maybe Lamb's information had been wrong.
Maybe this was a complete bust.
They ordered more drinks.
Way too many rounds later, Lamb's hand crept further up her thigh, which didn't surprise Veronica. What did surprise her was that she enjoyed it.
And then his hand reached up even further, until it was no longer on her thigh, and Veronica left it there a moment, his fingers edging under the elastic of her underwear, before she slid away.
"I have to go to the bathroom," she told him, and it was almost the truth.
The women's bathrooms were, unpredictably, not as filthy as she'd imagined, though she didn't like to think about the probable state of the men's. Splashing water on her face, Veronica looked up into the mirror. And found that she was actually smiling.
By the time she made her way back into the club, Lamb was already standing, looking towards her. "Ready to go?" he asked when she reached him.
Veronica nodded.
She didn't bother to rearrange her skirt when she got into the car again, which was probably a mistake; Lamb's eyes stayed on the road half the time, at best. He walked her to the door when they reached her apartment, and Veronica had barely managed to get her keys in the lock when he kissed her, grabbing her hips and pulling her towards him. She kissed him back, tasting scotch and lemon, and moaned as he bent down to kiss her neck.
"Inside," she told him huskily, pushing the door open. Lamb followed her, barely giving her time to shut the door behind them before his hands were on her again, cupping her ass through her skirt, pulling her so close to him she could feel every hard curve of his body.
Veronica threw her head back as Lamb kissed her throat, whispering against her so softly she couldn't make out the words. He reached his hand up her skirt, and Veronica gasped as his hand grazed the top of her thigh. She leaned forward to kiss his jaw, his neck, and bit her lip as his fingers slid once more under the edge of her underwear.
"Wait," Veronica managed to whisper when she finally got her breath back, pulling back suddenly. Lamb looked at her, confusion and concern warring with lust and frustration in his features.
"You can't stay," she told him, trying unsuccessfully to pull herself together. "My dad could get home, and if he catches you ..."
Veronica had expected Lamb to argue, but instead he just nodded. He kissed her one last time, until Veronica felt her resolve starting to weaken, and finally pulled away.
As he shut the door behind him, Veronica breathed out. And resigned herself to a very long night, alone.
-
Veronica tried not to think of Lamb the next morning, when her dad still wasn't home. She tried very hard not to think of his body wrapped around hers, of his fingers teasing her gently, his breath hot in her ear.
It wasn't working.
But she had other things beside Lamb to think of, too, and Veronica tried to focus her attention on them as she walked into the office.
There had been no notes about the Fitzpatrick case at home, which wasn't surprising. Veronica tossed a cursory glance at the desk before going straight for the safe, hoping her father hadn't changed the combination since the last time.
He hadn't.
As the safe clicked open, Veronica began to pull out files, looking for anything marked "Fitzpatrick." There was nothing. But as she looked through a second time, another name caught her eye.
What was her father still doing with a file on Kendall Casablancas?
Veronica pulled the file, and sat down at the desk to read over it. Whatever she had been expecting, she reflected a moment later, it hadn't been this.
Kendall Casablancas was dead, according to Keith's handwriting. She had somehow got her hands on millions of dollars, and Cormac Fitzpatrick had killed her for her trouble.
And then, Keith apparently suspected, Liam Fitzpatrick had killed his brother.
Veronica shivered as she read over the file a second time. Her father had been right. She hadn't wanted to know about any of this.
She was still staring at the notes when she became aware of a figure standing in the doorway. She hurriedly shoved the notes in a drawer, though she had no idea what she'd say if her father had caught her.
"A little light reading?"
Definitely not her father.
"Vinnie," Veronica said, looking up with a fake smile. "Funny, I was just thinking about you last night."
Vinnie leered at her, and Veronica cringed. "Ew. No. Not like that."
Vinnie shrugged, and sat down across from her. "Too bad," he said. "Although, it's funny you should say that, because I happened to be thinking about you last night, too. Seeing you, too."
He slid a file across the desk to her, and Veronica frowned. "What's this?" she asked warily.
Vinnie smiled. "Take a look."
Hesitantly, Veronica picked up the folder and looked at the photographs inside. It took her a minute to register what she was seeing, but then her mouth fell open in shock.
Her and Lamb. Her and Lamb at the Bayside. Her and Lamb outside the Bayside. Her and Lamb at the Eighth Wonder, with his hand up her skirt. Her and Lamb outside her apartment, him pinning her to the wall.
When Veronica finally looked up, Vinnie was still smiling. She wasn't.
"What are these?" she asked, trying to keep her voice from shaking. "Why do you have these?"
Vinnie winked at her. "You know I can't reveal my clients."
It took all of Veronica's self-control not to leap across the desk and choke the information out of him.
"Easy, girl," Vinnie said, and Veronica imagined that at least some of her anger must have shown on her face. "I'm not going to hand these over to anyone. I just thought you might like the keepsake."
"And besides." He leaned back in his chair. "This means that now, you owe me a favour. A pretty big one, I imagine."
Veronica's mind shuffled back instinctively to the files in her father's desk. To Lamb's case. With an effort, she smiled.
"I might have to owe you another one," she said, leaning forward. "Because I need your help with something."
Next: Part 16, Part 17, Part 18