she's got a way about her - V/V
Title: She's Got A Way About Her
Author: missaliceblue
Pairing: Vinnie/Veronica (Veronica Mars)
Rating: R, rated for strong language and adult situations, over 18 only.
Status: Completed One-Shot
Summary: Vinnie Van Lowe and Veronica Mars have come to an understanding. Only one of them is satisfied with the arrangement. Semi-fluffy.
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December, 2006
She likes him because he is consistent. There are few people in this world that she can depend on. Actually, these days, is there anyone? She used to think her Dad was, but with the pedestal she put him on, any man would have fallen off eventually.
But with Vinnie, he was never even close to a pedestal. In fact, Veronica was pretty sure he couldn’t even spell pedestal. She’d known him almost her whole life, and that had certainly helped with the pedestal thing. She knew that he watched porn. She knew that he voted Republican. She knew that he once said that Pam Anderson really ‘brought the goods’.
It was never anything more than sex to her, and she was sure that that wouldn’t bother Vinnie any.
Logan had dumped her, well, fine. Not like she hadn’t saw it coming. Not like he had become little more than another thing to worry about in her life. So, after the break up Veronica had decided she was going relationship-less, concentrating on school. No more about Logan or any other boy.
Vinnie didn’t count. Vinnie was actually part of the solution to a relationship-less Veronica. He was exactly what she wanted. And she still definitely wanted it. Veronica was a physical person, intense. She needed the closeness, needed the release. She knew she was pushing everyone, everyone in her life away from her. Fine. But it did make her afternoons with Vinnie all the more important.
He was even less clingy than Veronica was; so rare. He wanted her body and nothing else. That was fine. Better than fine. She needed that. Needed someone who didn’t ask anything of her other than ‘couch or bed’. And they were good together, oh God. The chemistry between them had always been amazing, sizzling if you wanted to get Fabio about it. She’d always thought he was a little cute if you ignored the Guido hair and clothes. The face was pretty good too. And to be horrifically frank, the man was well hung.
She’d flounced into his office a few weeks after he saved her ass with the Fitzpatricks. She’d waved a polite hello to his mother, then entered his office and shut the door.
Vinnie had spun around in his dinky little chair at the sound of the door slamming. “Veronicaaaa…Maaaaars,” he warbled in that ridiculous voice that he’d used to sing at her with since she was a kid.
“Ugh. If I give this to you right now, will you skip the singing?” She held a few manila folders in her right hand.
“Ooh. And what have you there?” Vinnie reached for the folders eagerly.
“It’s some surveillance photos I know you’d find interesting in the Rosamond case.” Veronica dropped the folders on his desk. “My dad had the case like a year ago. Heard you took it over a few months back.”
Vinnie looked through the photos quickly. “Hmm…a favor,” He set the folders down, clasped his hands, and looked at the ceiling. “Dear Baby Jesus, why would Veronica Mars walk into my office and do me a favor?”
“You should probably be praying downward if you want help, Vinnie.” She paused and now her voice came a bit softer. “I just…wanted to thank you. For the favor you did for me. At the bar. You didn’t have to.”
Vinnie didn’t have a snappy comeback. He just looked at her.
“So, yeah. Thank you. I’ll let you get back to whatever it is you call legitimate work.”
Vinnie jumped up from his desk. “Well hey, missy, if you ever want to thank me proper, you know where my place is, eh?”
“God, does that line ever actually work?” Veronica looked disgusted and pushed out of his door.
It’s funny though, that in this case it actually did work. She liked that ironic touch. She’d thought it over in her car until noon. Then Veronica caught him on his lunch break that afternoon. Didn’t say much, because she didn’t think she needed to. Just waited till his key was in the door, then stepped into his line of view, put her arm around his neck before he could sing at her or smarm some masochistic trash. Kissed him. Hard. For a minute he didn’t do anything, didn’t respond at all, but eventually he reacted like a good Vinnie should. Wrapped his arms around her and half carried her into his bedroom. That afternoon had been great. The ones that followed were even better.
Vinnie wasn’t a selfish lover, and Veronica knew she was, so that part always seemed to work out pretty well. She was adventurous; pulling him into different positions that he said made his back ache the next morning.
“Jesus, Ronnie, take it easy on me,” he would say after.
And she would laugh throatily and tell him to buck up, old man. And so he would, because she knew that he wanted to show that he could keep up with her, even though he was a decade plus older than her. Nothing better than a man who thought he had to prove something in bed.
Sex with Vinnie was a lot less awkward and a whole lot more straightforwardly enjoyable than with her other boyfriends. Not that he was a boyfriend. God, no. He was just someone she fucked on a set schedule, Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays at his apartment, 12:20 - 12:40 pm.
That was another thrill. Veronica had never had an older lover, and it was something she found she could get used to. He didn’t play video games, didn’t listen to horrible emo-screech music, didn’t feel the need to flex in the bathroom mirror and call her to come see it. He could keep it up longer and didn’t want her to hold him after and share feelings.
Not that she ever stuck around long enough to see any of that. It was, quite literally, wham bam thank you sir. Veronica encouraged quickies, even though sometimes Vinnie might’ve preferred slowing it down a little, she thought. But he never said it, so Veronica did what she did best, and pretended that she didn’t notice.
After it was over, her clothes were put on quicker than they had come off. She didn’t even bother to take off her underpants properly anymore.
Not that she would have much to object to in staying. His apartment was nice, always clean, his sheets crisp and didn’t smell like sweaty boy. At first she’d been marginally impressed, until she learned that Vinnie’s mom came once a week to clean it. She was full-blooded Italian, and if a son had no wife, then the household duties fell to the mama in her mind.
“Your mom is your secretary and your maid? God, that’s pathetic,” said Veronica incredulously, as she found her jeans and pulled them on forcefully.
“What? She wants to do it,” said Vinnie defensively.
But Veronica just rolled her eyes and rolled her socks onto her feet. “I just feel sorry for your wife if you ever decide to get married. Again.”
“Yeah, yeah. Wonder what Daddy Mars would say if he knew about our little thing.”
“Little thing is right,” said Veronica from under her shirt, even though she (and he) knew full well it was a lie.
Still, he’d struck a nerve. Since they’d begun their little standing appointments almost two months ago, Veronica had been worried that her Dad might find out about it. Even though they weren’t as close as they used to be, she still wanted him to respect her. She didn’t say anything, but the thought of Keith finding out about her and Vinnie was enough to cause a shadow to pass her face when it finally popped out from under her shirt.
“Hey, don’t worry about it…your Pop is no saint either, okay?”
Veronica tossed Vinnie a bored look as she tightened her belt. If she ever wanted comforting, it sure as hell wouldn’t be from Vinnie. “I know that.”
“So there’s no call for him to be judging you,” said Vinnie.
“He doesn’t,” said Veronica as she rummaged in her bag for her phone. “Look, don’t try to analyze mine and my dad’s relationship. It’s complicated, but it works for us, okay? I don’t expect him to be perfect anymore, and he does the same for me.”
Vinnie stood and slid on a pair of jeans. “That’s pretty jaded talk, missy, for someone so blooming with the radiance of youth,” said Vinnie sarcastically.
Veronica was completely dressed, hair straightened, lipstick reapplied. She’d been inside Vinnie’s apartment a total of 14 minutes, from hi-how-are-you to sex to her hand on the doorknob, ready to leave. She slung her bag onto her shoulder and twisted the handle.
“Don’t call me missy.”
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He’d rolled into Neptune 6 or 7 years ago. He owed money to everyone in L.A., really blown it, and needed to get out of town. Six months late on the rent. 3 on his cell phone bill, even more on the utilities. He’d taken a couple high interest payday loans to help him keep his car from getting repossessed, and now those credit guys were calling him day and night, screaming at him for cash he didn’t have.
So, he decided to relocate to a city with a real need for a proper P.I. Problem with L.A. is that the area was over saturated with private dicks. A search of San Diego phone books revealed Neptune as prime space. So he’d gotten a ride from his cousin who lived in Torrance, paid him for the gas with his last twenty. Just him and a duffel full of clothes. Left his cell phone and keys in the car, where the Repo guys could easily find it.
Skipped out. Used a new SS number on his rent application. He was white, with a thick Long Island accent, so he didn’t get hassled. And he’d built himself up. Hard work, scrimping pennies, and there he was. His own office. His own place, nice furniture, enough money to put his mom up in her own little condo, pay for her move from the Island to San D.
It’s true he took some smelly cases along with the clean ones, but he stayed away from the truly rotten ones. He wasn’t lucky enough to be as legit as Keith Mars, Retired Sheriff, was. He’d lost a lot of business when the guy went private a few years back, but he dealt. Now, if you had money, you called Keith Mars. If you didn’t, you called Vinnie, and that is why he had had to learn to not be too picky. Sure he sometimes…played the two sides against each other, but not as bad as Ronnie and her dad made it out to be.
When he was first starting out, he’d finally gotten some seed money to start up his own crappy little office. He took his card around to the local Sheriff for referrals. He’d asked to speak to the Sheriff, and the deputy at the counter rolled his eyes and told him to sit down and wait.
When he finally got back there, he was seated in a wooden chair across from the big oak desk. Behind it was Keith Mars, a balding guy who was acting like he was real busy. In the corner, a little girl was tucked into a leather chair, watching him with big eyes.
So he gave Mars his little spiel and asked to leave a stack of cards. The Sheriff kinda paused first, but he took them. Then, a secretary had asked to speak to the Sheriff for a minute. He excused himself from the room, and the little girl in the chair sat up.
“Why are you wearing that jacket?” Her petite nose crinkled.
“It’s a bomber jacket. Ya’ like NSYNC, kid?” he said proudly, and popped the collar.
“No.” The little girl looked at him steadily.
“Eh, go on missy. Go play with your dollies.” Vinnie was upset that such a little girl was making him feel like an idiot so effortlessly.
“I’m 11,” she said.
“So?”
“I’m 11 so why would I play with dolls?”
At that moment, the Sheriff came back into the office. “Sorry about that, Mr. Van Lowe. So, thanks for bringing these cards by…I’m sure they’re going to last us awhile.”
“If you need more, I can getcha some. Just call me.” Vinnie tossed one of the cheap plastic pens that bore his name onto the desk. Nothing like the nice ones he passed out nowadays.
Then he turned to the kid. “Here’s one for you too, little girl. A pink one.” Making the kids like you was important. Scored points with the parents. He smiled toothily.
The blonde girl tugged on a piece of her hair. “I’m sorry, I can’t write yet. Teacher says next year, maybe if I do finger-paints real well.”
Vinnie stopped smiling.
The Sheriff coughed very loudly. “Veronica, ah, I think you should see what Sergeant Mills is up to, okay?”
“Veronica, eh? How cute,” said Vinnie unconvincingly. Vinnie looked at the little girl, who stuck her tongue out at him.
“Now, Veronica,” said her father sternly. “I’m sorry about that. She’s a real spitfire.”
Yeah, she’d been a real spitfire, and a real pain in the ass then. But he’d liked her pretty well, enough that he’d taken on a few risky jobs for her couple years back. That crap in Mexico got real hairy, even with the great paycheck. Kidnapping. He wouldn’t have done it for many people. Veronica had moxie. Most people didn’t. He liked that about her. Not that he’d ever tell her that. She’d always given him a hard time whenever she could.
And she was still giving him a hard time now that she was 19. She was sexy. Real direct. Vinnie liked that. Like that first time at his apartment. She’d pressed her body right up to his, reached under his shirt to feel his belly. Damn. She had a way of getting a guy real hot real quick. No wonder she had most the preppy rich assholes in Neptune after her.
She’s got a way about her all right. She’s businesslike about sex. She says how she wants it, when, and where. She doesn’t like a lot of kissing, doesn’t want candles or dinner. At first, it’d been a great change. His ex Brenda had to be freakin’ wined and dined every night.
But sometimes, it gets a little old. He doesn’t want to say no, he’d be crazy to give her up over that. But sometimes, he thinks about what it’d be like if they went out proper. He thinks about where he would take her. He doesn’t even know what kind of food she likes. Doesn’t know what movies she laughs at, what music she listens to. He’s curious, but he doesn’t ask. No point. Sometimes, he tries to take it slower. She doesn’t want it slow though, and he doesn’t want her to get bored and leave altogether, so he does it how she wants it.
After, when she’s getting her crap together before she leaves, he’ll usually try to talk to her a little. One-line answers and her telling him to butt out is what he gets. He doesn’t know why he even tries anymore. But he keeps on doing it anyway. He wants to know about her life. Sometimes it really bothers him how little he knows about her. Sometimes he’d like to know which side of the bed she would sleep on if she stayed with him. Sometimes he’d like to know which kind of cereal she’d eat in the morning. Sometimes he’d like to ask if she’s seeing anyone, though he doubts it. Sometimes he’d like her to look at his face when she’s coming instead of her just closing her eyes.
Christmas is coming up. He was stupid and bought her something. A necklace. She probably won’t want it. Probably she’ll tear it apart looking for a bug. He got sentimental. Maybe there’s time to return it. Yeah.
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August, 2007
Veronica can’t find her phone. It must have fallen out of her bag at Vinnie’s house yesterday. Stupid. Her whole life is in that phone.
So she does something she has never done before and goes to Vinnie’s in the evening. She’s been boning him for almost a full year, and she’s never seen the place at night. It’s about 7 pm on a sticky-hot San Diego night. Veronica wears her cruddy relaxation duds, since no one is going to be seeing her. Light cotton pajama pants and a plain tank top, her pink flip-flops.
All the lights are on at the apartment, and she is about to knock briskly when the door opens. It’s Mrs. Van Lowe, Vinnie’s mother, carrying two very full bags of trash.
Veronica doesn’t know what to say at first, but recovers quickly. “Oh, er-hi Mrs. Van Lowe...I was just needing to talk to Vinnie for a minute.”
Mrs. Van Lowe smiles, and Veronica remembers how nice she had been to her a few years back. “Oh honey, call me Elaine! I’m sorry you have to see me like this, such a mess!” Elaine touches her hair self-consciously. “Vincent’s actually not home right now, I was just leaving, but he should be here in a minute.”
Veronica laughs nervously. “I’ll just come back another time.”
Elaine touches Veronica’s arm lightly. “Oh no, Veronica, stay! I know he’d want you to.” Elaine shifts the trash bags, re-gripping.
“Let me help you with those,” says Veronica, grabbing the larger one.
They walk slowly to the large dumpster behind Vinnie’s building. Veronica makes conversation. “I told Vinnie he shouldn’t let you clean his apartment. He’s a grown up, it’s silly.”
Elaine laughs. “Oh, I don’t mind. I like doing it, actually. He’s done so much for me, I like to do what I can for him.”
Veronica smiles, a bittersweet smile. Moms can never think badly of their kids.
“And now I get to meet his lady friend! Well, meet you as his lady friend at least, since we met before, of course. But I’m glad. I’ve been asking him to bring you over for dinner for months now. I hear so much about you but he never brings you home, silly boy.”
Veronica tenses. What?
“But I think he just doesn’t want to scare you off. He’s a sensitive boy. And so romantic! He wants to be loved by a good woman so much, but he used to pick the nastiest pieces of work. Three wives before he was 30!” Elaine tsks. “He wants to marry them as soon as he thinks he’s in love! I think he’s learned though, to be a little more patient. Not push so hard to get serious so fast. Only the hussies want to move fast, I said, but him! He’s so serious about women!”
Veronica was sincerely starting to think the woman was delusional. She threw the bags over the edge of the dumpster in lieu of responding the Elaine’s words.
“I know my Vincent wants a family. He’s told me several times this year how he’s ready to really settle down.” Elaine’s cheeks went pink. “Not that I’m pushing! I know you’re young, and you two haven’t been dating that long. Not that I wouldn’t love to have some grandchildren…”
Oh, my god.
“…especially from you two! Oh, they’d be so beautiful, knockouts! Anyway, I do know you mean an awful lot to him; he never shuts up about it at work; Veronica’s going to Spain this summer, Veronica got the DeLuca Scholarship…Veronica got a haircut!” Elaine smiles at her. “He’s crazy about you. I’ve never seen him act this way about any of the others.”
Veronica forces a smile back at the woman. Her week in Spain had been planned for months. She got a haircut two weeks ago. But the Deluca Scholarship was announced at a big fancy dinner last night. She hadn’t seen Vinnie since then. He couldn’t have known. What is going on?
“Anyway.” Elaine fumbles in her purse for her keys. “I’ve talked your ear off, I know, I’m sorry. I hope maybe I can cook for you sometime soon, talk to Vincent it about it, okay? Puttanesca? Lasagna? You pick and tell him and he’ll tell me. So. The apartment is unlocked, if you just want to go on in and wait for him. He should be back any minute.”
Veronica smiles again at the woman, even every inch of her body is screaming in frustration. “I will. It was nice to meet you again, Mrs. Van Lowe.”
“Elaine.” She smiles and pecks Veronica on the cheek. “You’re not like the others. He picked well this time. I knew it when I saw him talk about you. His whole face!” And here Elaine gestured with her hand to her own face, lit it up like a firecracker. “I’ll see you later, dear, soon I hope,” she called over her shoulder as she heads for her dark blue Lincoln.
Veronica walks slowly up the stairs to Vinnie’s apartment. Thoughtfully. One arm is cradling her stomach, the other tucked up under her chin.
Veronica hypothesizes in her mind. Maybe...maybe Vinnie is just trying to get his mother off his back about getting a wife? Maybe Veronica is just a convenient person to talk about to her like they’re...together?
In either case, Veronica instructs herself to talk less to Vinnie. She must have been chattering idly around the guy too much. That must have been how he found out about stuff.
“Woah, hey. It’s Ronnie M., folks, by special appearance. And in her jammers too, looks like.”
Veronica turns at the sound of his voice. Vinnie is standing behind her in the hallway, tossing his keys from hand to hand.
“Whatcha doing here?” He gestures to the slightly ajar door. “You pick the lock to get in? Miss my pad that much?”
Maybe she should just cut off this whole thing. She can find another booty call, for sure.
“No. Um, actually your mom was here and…”
Vinnie’s eyebrows pinch together...
“...and she just left it open for me when she went home.”
Veronica feels herself getting more upset. Upset? About Vinnie?
“She seemed to think that you and I were…are…together.” What the hell? She’d confronted him. She didn’t think she was going to confront him.
Vinnie is silent for a moment, serious. And then suddenly his face breaks into that smarmy grin that she hates.
“My mom, she’s nutso...always talking about who my next girl is. Makes crap up all the time.” He waves his hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it, eh?” Vinnie motions to Veronica to move so he can get into his door.
“But she knew things. About me. Things she couldn’t make up.” Veronica looks steadily at Vinnie’s back.
“Hey, I don’t know where she hears things. Could be some of the other bags she hangs out with, they all gossip like hens.” Vinnie walks into his apartment and turns to face Veronica. When he speaks its nonchalantly. “Goodbye, Veronica, unless you wanna come in.”
Veronica looks at him for a long moment, squinting just a tiny bit, sizing him up. “I left my phone here. Have you seen it?”
“Nope.”
“Can you call it? It should have enough charge left to ring.”
“Sure,” says Vinnie, and keys some numbers into his phone.
“You have my number memorized?”
Vinnie’s mouth opens, but the sound that Veronica hears is the chime of her phone ringing from the bedroom. She blows past Vinnie and into the bedroom, waves of anger dripping off of her.
“Look, Veronica, it’s nothing. It’s just an easy number to memorize, okay?”
She is on her hands and knees, reaching under the bed. “No, it’s not. And you are seriously creeping me out right now.” She pulls out her phone and presses a button. The chimes stop.
His bed is made neatly, as it usually is, with the white down comforter and pale blue sheets. It’s too much for the hot California weather, but Vince told her once that he likes the heavy weight of it on him when he sleeps.
How many times has she had sex with him on that bed? How much time did she spend in his house? 45 minutes a week, tops. About as long as a coffee date with a study buddy. She may know his body intimately, but she knows nothing about the man.
On the nightstand is a folded newspaper. Vinnie reads the newspaper? Vinnie reads? Veronica makes to pick it up.
“Hey-“ Vinnie’s protestation was cut short.
“This is the Hearst student paper.” Veronica holds it in front of her chest, unwraps it to reveal her smiling face as she accepted the DeLuca Scholarship somewhere on page 22. “That’s how you knew.”
She looks at Vinnie questioningly. “Why do you have a Hearst newspaper?”
“Look, Ronnie...”
“Shut up. Are you spying on me?”
“No,” says Vinnie
“Stalking me?” Veronica speaks accusingly.
“No!”
“Surveillance? Celeste Kane wants to keep an eye on me? How much extra do you charge if you happen to be balling the mark?” Veronica is yelling now.
Vinnie grabs the paper out of her hand. “God, no!” He is shouting too. “I just...wanted to know more about you. You never tell me anything.”
Veronica had no reply.
“I’ll stop if you want. I didn’t mean to freak you out. I’ve got a mark that works close to Hearst. I usually pick up a paper when I’m there. As for the other stuff...well I just listen when you talk, is all. Hear stuff sometimes from people. File it away in my big, beautiful, mind, I guess. I am a P.I.” Vinnie spreads his hands in front of him.
“Why do you want to know about me? For what purpose?” Veronica crosses her arms and looks at Vinnie accusingly.
Vinnie throws her a dirty look. “Don’t act like that.”
“Act like what? Stop being cagey. I think you owe me an answer,” says Veronica
“C’mon, Ronnie. Don’t play dumb with me. I know you know. You’ve gotta by now. You’re a P.I. too,” says Vinnie.
“Are you, like, infatuated with me?” Veronica’s face looks like she’s just spotted Mother Mary in a slice of toast.
“Dammit, Veronica.” Vinnie throws the paper down onto the bed. “It’s more than that. I just...wish we were closer. Wish we could you know, hang out a little.”
“We already hang out plenty,” says Veronica, looking pointedly at the bed.
“No, we don’t.” He sounds so defeated when he says this that it makes her look up and into his face.
Vinnie is already staring at her, and the expression on his face is so damned pitiful that it wrenches her insides. His mouth is closed and his eyes are crinkled, looking at her almost...wistfully.
She didn’t think Vinnie Van Lowe could look wistful. She’s not sure how long she looks at him there, but after a moment, she speaks.
“Do you really…want to be close? To me?” She sounds almost hesitant.
There is no pause between her question and his answer. His loud “Yes,” is spoken definitively.
“Yes, I do want to be close to you. A lot,” he says. “But only if you wanna. We can just keep on doing what we’re doing if that’s what you feel like. I sure as hell don’t want that to stop.”
Veronica laughs in spite of herself, puts her hand to her face and sniffs.
“Today Mac and I set our microwave on fire.”
“Yeah?” Vinnie smiles at her. A nice, interested smile. Not a lustful or smarmy smile. One that makes her want to tell him more about it.
“Our whole room smells like smoke. I was going to go stay at my Dad’s while it gets aired out. But, if you’re not doing anything...do you think I could stay here tonight?”
Vinnie smiled slowly. “Sure.” They both looked at each other awkwardly for a minute.
Veronica was surprised that the expression on his face made her legs tremble. Just a little.
A/N - i've written a sequel to this story and have started on a part three which i would be happy to upload if anyone else would care to read it. leave me a comment or email me if so. i don't want to keep writing this story, but it won't leave me alone.
Author: missaliceblue
Pairing: Vinnie/Veronica (Veronica Mars)
Rating: R, rated for strong language and adult situations, over 18 only.
Status: Completed One-Shot
Summary: Vinnie Van Lowe and Veronica Mars have come to an understanding. Only one of them is satisfied with the arrangement. Semi-fluffy.
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December, 2006
She likes him because he is consistent. There are few people in this world that she can depend on. Actually, these days, is there anyone? She used to think her Dad was, but with the pedestal she put him on, any man would have fallen off eventually.
But with Vinnie, he was never even close to a pedestal. In fact, Veronica was pretty sure he couldn’t even spell pedestal. She’d known him almost her whole life, and that had certainly helped with the pedestal thing. She knew that he watched porn. She knew that he voted Republican. She knew that he once said that Pam Anderson really ‘brought the goods’.
It was never anything more than sex to her, and she was sure that that wouldn’t bother Vinnie any.
Logan had dumped her, well, fine. Not like she hadn’t saw it coming. Not like he had become little more than another thing to worry about in her life. So, after the break up Veronica had decided she was going relationship-less, concentrating on school. No more about Logan or any other boy.
Vinnie didn’t count. Vinnie was actually part of the solution to a relationship-less Veronica. He was exactly what she wanted. And she still definitely wanted it. Veronica was a physical person, intense. She needed the closeness, needed the release. She knew she was pushing everyone, everyone in her life away from her. Fine. But it did make her afternoons with Vinnie all the more important.
He was even less clingy than Veronica was; so rare. He wanted her body and nothing else. That was fine. Better than fine. She needed that. Needed someone who didn’t ask anything of her other than ‘couch or bed’. And they were good together, oh God. The chemistry between them had always been amazing, sizzling if you wanted to get Fabio about it. She’d always thought he was a little cute if you ignored the Guido hair and clothes. The face was pretty good too. And to be horrifically frank, the man was well hung.
She’d flounced into his office a few weeks after he saved her ass with the Fitzpatricks. She’d waved a polite hello to his mother, then entered his office and shut the door.
Vinnie had spun around in his dinky little chair at the sound of the door slamming. “Veronicaaaa…Maaaaars,” he warbled in that ridiculous voice that he’d used to sing at her with since she was a kid.
“Ugh. If I give this to you right now, will you skip the singing?” She held a few manila folders in her right hand.
“Ooh. And what have you there?” Vinnie reached for the folders eagerly.
“It’s some surveillance photos I know you’d find interesting in the Rosamond case.” Veronica dropped the folders on his desk. “My dad had the case like a year ago. Heard you took it over a few months back.”
Vinnie looked through the photos quickly. “Hmm…a favor,” He set the folders down, clasped his hands, and looked at the ceiling. “Dear Baby Jesus, why would Veronica Mars walk into my office and do me a favor?”
“You should probably be praying downward if you want help, Vinnie.” She paused and now her voice came a bit softer. “I just…wanted to thank you. For the favor you did for me. At the bar. You didn’t have to.”
Vinnie didn’t have a snappy comeback. He just looked at her.
“So, yeah. Thank you. I’ll let you get back to whatever it is you call legitimate work.”
Vinnie jumped up from his desk. “Well hey, missy, if you ever want to thank me proper, you know where my place is, eh?”
“God, does that line ever actually work?” Veronica looked disgusted and pushed out of his door.
It’s funny though, that in this case it actually did work. She liked that ironic touch. She’d thought it over in her car until noon. Then Veronica caught him on his lunch break that afternoon. Didn’t say much, because she didn’t think she needed to. Just waited till his key was in the door, then stepped into his line of view, put her arm around his neck before he could sing at her or smarm some masochistic trash. Kissed him. Hard. For a minute he didn’t do anything, didn’t respond at all, but eventually he reacted like a good Vinnie should. Wrapped his arms around her and half carried her into his bedroom. That afternoon had been great. The ones that followed were even better.
Vinnie wasn’t a selfish lover, and Veronica knew she was, so that part always seemed to work out pretty well. She was adventurous; pulling him into different positions that he said made his back ache the next morning.
“Jesus, Ronnie, take it easy on me,” he would say after.
And she would laugh throatily and tell him to buck up, old man. And so he would, because she knew that he wanted to show that he could keep up with her, even though he was a decade plus older than her. Nothing better than a man who thought he had to prove something in bed.
Sex with Vinnie was a lot less awkward and a whole lot more straightforwardly enjoyable than with her other boyfriends. Not that he was a boyfriend. God, no. He was just someone she fucked on a set schedule, Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays at his apartment, 12:20 - 12:40 pm.
That was another thrill. Veronica had never had an older lover, and it was something she found she could get used to. He didn’t play video games, didn’t listen to horrible emo-screech music, didn’t feel the need to flex in the bathroom mirror and call her to come see it. He could keep it up longer and didn’t want her to hold him after and share feelings.
Not that she ever stuck around long enough to see any of that. It was, quite literally, wham bam thank you sir. Veronica encouraged quickies, even though sometimes Vinnie might’ve preferred slowing it down a little, she thought. But he never said it, so Veronica did what she did best, and pretended that she didn’t notice.
After it was over, her clothes were put on quicker than they had come off. She didn’t even bother to take off her underpants properly anymore.
Not that she would have much to object to in staying. His apartment was nice, always clean, his sheets crisp and didn’t smell like sweaty boy. At first she’d been marginally impressed, until she learned that Vinnie’s mom came once a week to clean it. She was full-blooded Italian, and if a son had no wife, then the household duties fell to the mama in her mind.
“Your mom is your secretary and your maid? God, that’s pathetic,” said Veronica incredulously, as she found her jeans and pulled them on forcefully.
“What? She wants to do it,” said Vinnie defensively.
But Veronica just rolled her eyes and rolled her socks onto her feet. “I just feel sorry for your wife if you ever decide to get married. Again.”
“Yeah, yeah. Wonder what Daddy Mars would say if he knew about our little thing.”
“Little thing is right,” said Veronica from under her shirt, even though she (and he) knew full well it was a lie.
Still, he’d struck a nerve. Since they’d begun their little standing appointments almost two months ago, Veronica had been worried that her Dad might find out about it. Even though they weren’t as close as they used to be, she still wanted him to respect her. She didn’t say anything, but the thought of Keith finding out about her and Vinnie was enough to cause a shadow to pass her face when it finally popped out from under her shirt.
“Hey, don’t worry about it…your Pop is no saint either, okay?”
Veronica tossed Vinnie a bored look as she tightened her belt. If she ever wanted comforting, it sure as hell wouldn’t be from Vinnie. “I know that.”
“So there’s no call for him to be judging you,” said Vinnie.
“He doesn’t,” said Veronica as she rummaged in her bag for her phone. “Look, don’t try to analyze mine and my dad’s relationship. It’s complicated, but it works for us, okay? I don’t expect him to be perfect anymore, and he does the same for me.”
Vinnie stood and slid on a pair of jeans. “That’s pretty jaded talk, missy, for someone so blooming with the radiance of youth,” said Vinnie sarcastically.
Veronica was completely dressed, hair straightened, lipstick reapplied. She’d been inside Vinnie’s apartment a total of 14 minutes, from hi-how-are-you to sex to her hand on the doorknob, ready to leave. She slung her bag onto her shoulder and twisted the handle.
“Don’t call me missy.”
----------------------------------
He’d rolled into Neptune 6 or 7 years ago. He owed money to everyone in L.A., really blown it, and needed to get out of town. Six months late on the rent. 3 on his cell phone bill, even more on the utilities. He’d taken a couple high interest payday loans to help him keep his car from getting repossessed, and now those credit guys were calling him day and night, screaming at him for cash he didn’t have.
So, he decided to relocate to a city with a real need for a proper P.I. Problem with L.A. is that the area was over saturated with private dicks. A search of San Diego phone books revealed Neptune as prime space. So he’d gotten a ride from his cousin who lived in Torrance, paid him for the gas with his last twenty. Just him and a duffel full of clothes. Left his cell phone and keys in the car, where the Repo guys could easily find it.
Skipped out. Used a new SS number on his rent application. He was white, with a thick Long Island accent, so he didn’t get hassled. And he’d built himself up. Hard work, scrimping pennies, and there he was. His own office. His own place, nice furniture, enough money to put his mom up in her own little condo, pay for her move from the Island to San D.
It’s true he took some smelly cases along with the clean ones, but he stayed away from the truly rotten ones. He wasn’t lucky enough to be as legit as Keith Mars, Retired Sheriff, was. He’d lost a lot of business when the guy went private a few years back, but he dealt. Now, if you had money, you called Keith Mars. If you didn’t, you called Vinnie, and that is why he had had to learn to not be too picky. Sure he sometimes…played the two sides against each other, but not as bad as Ronnie and her dad made it out to be.
When he was first starting out, he’d finally gotten some seed money to start up his own crappy little office. He took his card around to the local Sheriff for referrals. He’d asked to speak to the Sheriff, and the deputy at the counter rolled his eyes and told him to sit down and wait.
When he finally got back there, he was seated in a wooden chair across from the big oak desk. Behind it was Keith Mars, a balding guy who was acting like he was real busy. In the corner, a little girl was tucked into a leather chair, watching him with big eyes.
So he gave Mars his little spiel and asked to leave a stack of cards. The Sheriff kinda paused first, but he took them. Then, a secretary had asked to speak to the Sheriff for a minute. He excused himself from the room, and the little girl in the chair sat up.
“Why are you wearing that jacket?” Her petite nose crinkled.
“It’s a bomber jacket. Ya’ like NSYNC, kid?” he said proudly, and popped the collar.
“No.” The little girl looked at him steadily.
“Eh, go on missy. Go play with your dollies.” Vinnie was upset that such a little girl was making him feel like an idiot so effortlessly.
“I’m 11,” she said.
“So?”
“I’m 11 so why would I play with dolls?”
At that moment, the Sheriff came back into the office. “Sorry about that, Mr. Van Lowe. So, thanks for bringing these cards by…I’m sure they’re going to last us awhile.”
“If you need more, I can getcha some. Just call me.” Vinnie tossed one of the cheap plastic pens that bore his name onto the desk. Nothing like the nice ones he passed out nowadays.
Then he turned to the kid. “Here’s one for you too, little girl. A pink one.” Making the kids like you was important. Scored points with the parents. He smiled toothily.
The blonde girl tugged on a piece of her hair. “I’m sorry, I can’t write yet. Teacher says next year, maybe if I do finger-paints real well.”
Vinnie stopped smiling.
The Sheriff coughed very loudly. “Veronica, ah, I think you should see what Sergeant Mills is up to, okay?”
“Veronica, eh? How cute,” said Vinnie unconvincingly. Vinnie looked at the little girl, who stuck her tongue out at him.
“Now, Veronica,” said her father sternly. “I’m sorry about that. She’s a real spitfire.”
Yeah, she’d been a real spitfire, and a real pain in the ass then. But he’d liked her pretty well, enough that he’d taken on a few risky jobs for her couple years back. That crap in Mexico got real hairy, even with the great paycheck. Kidnapping. He wouldn’t have done it for many people. Veronica had moxie. Most people didn’t. He liked that about her. Not that he’d ever tell her that. She’d always given him a hard time whenever she could.
And she was still giving him a hard time now that she was 19. She was sexy. Real direct. Vinnie liked that. Like that first time at his apartment. She’d pressed her body right up to his, reached under his shirt to feel his belly. Damn. She had a way of getting a guy real hot real quick. No wonder she had most the preppy rich assholes in Neptune after her.
She’s got a way about her all right. She’s businesslike about sex. She says how she wants it, when, and where. She doesn’t like a lot of kissing, doesn’t want candles or dinner. At first, it’d been a great change. His ex Brenda had to be freakin’ wined and dined every night.
But sometimes, it gets a little old. He doesn’t want to say no, he’d be crazy to give her up over that. But sometimes, he thinks about what it’d be like if they went out proper. He thinks about where he would take her. He doesn’t even know what kind of food she likes. Doesn’t know what movies she laughs at, what music she listens to. He’s curious, but he doesn’t ask. No point. Sometimes, he tries to take it slower. She doesn’t want it slow though, and he doesn’t want her to get bored and leave altogether, so he does it how she wants it.
After, when she’s getting her crap together before she leaves, he’ll usually try to talk to her a little. One-line answers and her telling him to butt out is what he gets. He doesn’t know why he even tries anymore. But he keeps on doing it anyway. He wants to know about her life. Sometimes it really bothers him how little he knows about her. Sometimes he’d like to know which side of the bed she would sleep on if she stayed with him. Sometimes he’d like to know which kind of cereal she’d eat in the morning. Sometimes he’d like to ask if she’s seeing anyone, though he doubts it. Sometimes he’d like her to look at his face when she’s coming instead of her just closing her eyes.
Christmas is coming up. He was stupid and bought her something. A necklace. She probably won’t want it. Probably she’ll tear it apart looking for a bug. He got sentimental. Maybe there’s time to return it. Yeah.
-----------------------------------------------
August, 2007
Veronica can’t find her phone. It must have fallen out of her bag at Vinnie’s house yesterday. Stupid. Her whole life is in that phone.
So she does something she has never done before and goes to Vinnie’s in the evening. She’s been boning him for almost a full year, and she’s never seen the place at night. It’s about 7 pm on a sticky-hot San Diego night. Veronica wears her cruddy relaxation duds, since no one is going to be seeing her. Light cotton pajama pants and a plain tank top, her pink flip-flops.
All the lights are on at the apartment, and she is about to knock briskly when the door opens. It’s Mrs. Van Lowe, Vinnie’s mother, carrying two very full bags of trash.
Veronica doesn’t know what to say at first, but recovers quickly. “Oh, er-hi Mrs. Van Lowe...I was just needing to talk to Vinnie for a minute.”
Mrs. Van Lowe smiles, and Veronica remembers how nice she had been to her a few years back. “Oh honey, call me Elaine! I’m sorry you have to see me like this, such a mess!” Elaine touches her hair self-consciously. “Vincent’s actually not home right now, I was just leaving, but he should be here in a minute.”
Veronica laughs nervously. “I’ll just come back another time.”
Elaine touches Veronica’s arm lightly. “Oh no, Veronica, stay! I know he’d want you to.” Elaine shifts the trash bags, re-gripping.
“Let me help you with those,” says Veronica, grabbing the larger one.
They walk slowly to the large dumpster behind Vinnie’s building. Veronica makes conversation. “I told Vinnie he shouldn’t let you clean his apartment. He’s a grown up, it’s silly.”
Elaine laughs. “Oh, I don’t mind. I like doing it, actually. He’s done so much for me, I like to do what I can for him.”
Veronica smiles, a bittersweet smile. Moms can never think badly of their kids.
“And now I get to meet his lady friend! Well, meet you as his lady friend at least, since we met before, of course. But I’m glad. I’ve been asking him to bring you over for dinner for months now. I hear so much about you but he never brings you home, silly boy.”
Veronica tenses. What?
“But I think he just doesn’t want to scare you off. He’s a sensitive boy. And so romantic! He wants to be loved by a good woman so much, but he used to pick the nastiest pieces of work. Three wives before he was 30!” Elaine tsks. “He wants to marry them as soon as he thinks he’s in love! I think he’s learned though, to be a little more patient. Not push so hard to get serious so fast. Only the hussies want to move fast, I said, but him! He’s so serious about women!”
Veronica was sincerely starting to think the woman was delusional. She threw the bags over the edge of the dumpster in lieu of responding the Elaine’s words.
“I know my Vincent wants a family. He’s told me several times this year how he’s ready to really settle down.” Elaine’s cheeks went pink. “Not that I’m pushing! I know you’re young, and you two haven’t been dating that long. Not that I wouldn’t love to have some grandchildren…”
Oh, my god.
“…especially from you two! Oh, they’d be so beautiful, knockouts! Anyway, I do know you mean an awful lot to him; he never shuts up about it at work; Veronica’s going to Spain this summer, Veronica got the DeLuca Scholarship…Veronica got a haircut!” Elaine smiles at her. “He’s crazy about you. I’ve never seen him act this way about any of the others.”
Veronica forces a smile back at the woman. Her week in Spain had been planned for months. She got a haircut two weeks ago. But the Deluca Scholarship was announced at a big fancy dinner last night. She hadn’t seen Vinnie since then. He couldn’t have known. What is going on?
“Anyway.” Elaine fumbles in her purse for her keys. “I’ve talked your ear off, I know, I’m sorry. I hope maybe I can cook for you sometime soon, talk to Vincent it about it, okay? Puttanesca? Lasagna? You pick and tell him and he’ll tell me. So. The apartment is unlocked, if you just want to go on in and wait for him. He should be back any minute.”
Veronica smiles again at the woman, even every inch of her body is screaming in frustration. “I will. It was nice to meet you again, Mrs. Van Lowe.”
“Elaine.” She smiles and pecks Veronica on the cheek. “You’re not like the others. He picked well this time. I knew it when I saw him talk about you. His whole face!” And here Elaine gestured with her hand to her own face, lit it up like a firecracker. “I’ll see you later, dear, soon I hope,” she called over her shoulder as she heads for her dark blue Lincoln.
Veronica walks slowly up the stairs to Vinnie’s apartment. Thoughtfully. One arm is cradling her stomach, the other tucked up under her chin.
Veronica hypothesizes in her mind. Maybe...maybe Vinnie is just trying to get his mother off his back about getting a wife? Maybe Veronica is just a convenient person to talk about to her like they’re...together?
In either case, Veronica instructs herself to talk less to Vinnie. She must have been chattering idly around the guy too much. That must have been how he found out about stuff.
“Woah, hey. It’s Ronnie M., folks, by special appearance. And in her jammers too, looks like.”
Veronica turns at the sound of his voice. Vinnie is standing behind her in the hallway, tossing his keys from hand to hand.
“Whatcha doing here?” He gestures to the slightly ajar door. “You pick the lock to get in? Miss my pad that much?”
Maybe she should just cut off this whole thing. She can find another booty call, for sure.
“No. Um, actually your mom was here and…”
Vinnie’s eyebrows pinch together...
“...and she just left it open for me when she went home.”
Veronica feels herself getting more upset. Upset? About Vinnie?
“She seemed to think that you and I were…are…together.” What the hell? She’d confronted him. She didn’t think she was going to confront him.
Vinnie is silent for a moment, serious. And then suddenly his face breaks into that smarmy grin that she hates.
“My mom, she’s nutso...always talking about who my next girl is. Makes crap up all the time.” He waves his hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it, eh?” Vinnie motions to Veronica to move so he can get into his door.
“But she knew things. About me. Things she couldn’t make up.” Veronica looks steadily at Vinnie’s back.
“Hey, I don’t know where she hears things. Could be some of the other bags she hangs out with, they all gossip like hens.” Vinnie walks into his apartment and turns to face Veronica. When he speaks its nonchalantly. “Goodbye, Veronica, unless you wanna come in.”
Veronica looks at him for a long moment, squinting just a tiny bit, sizing him up. “I left my phone here. Have you seen it?”
“Nope.”
“Can you call it? It should have enough charge left to ring.”
“Sure,” says Vinnie, and keys some numbers into his phone.
“You have my number memorized?”
Vinnie’s mouth opens, but the sound that Veronica hears is the chime of her phone ringing from the bedroom. She blows past Vinnie and into the bedroom, waves of anger dripping off of her.
“Look, Veronica, it’s nothing. It’s just an easy number to memorize, okay?”
She is on her hands and knees, reaching under the bed. “No, it’s not. And you are seriously creeping me out right now.” She pulls out her phone and presses a button. The chimes stop.
His bed is made neatly, as it usually is, with the white down comforter and pale blue sheets. It’s too much for the hot California weather, but Vince told her once that he likes the heavy weight of it on him when he sleeps.
How many times has she had sex with him on that bed? How much time did she spend in his house? 45 minutes a week, tops. About as long as a coffee date with a study buddy. She may know his body intimately, but she knows nothing about the man.
On the nightstand is a folded newspaper. Vinnie reads the newspaper? Vinnie reads? Veronica makes to pick it up.
“Hey-“ Vinnie’s protestation was cut short.
“This is the Hearst student paper.” Veronica holds it in front of her chest, unwraps it to reveal her smiling face as she accepted the DeLuca Scholarship somewhere on page 22. “That’s how you knew.”
She looks at Vinnie questioningly. “Why do you have a Hearst newspaper?”
“Look, Ronnie...”
“Shut up. Are you spying on me?”
“No,” says Vinnie
“Stalking me?” Veronica speaks accusingly.
“No!”
“Surveillance? Celeste Kane wants to keep an eye on me? How much extra do you charge if you happen to be balling the mark?” Veronica is yelling now.
Vinnie grabs the paper out of her hand. “God, no!” He is shouting too. “I just...wanted to know more about you. You never tell me anything.”
Veronica had no reply.
“I’ll stop if you want. I didn’t mean to freak you out. I’ve got a mark that works close to Hearst. I usually pick up a paper when I’m there. As for the other stuff...well I just listen when you talk, is all. Hear stuff sometimes from people. File it away in my big, beautiful, mind, I guess. I am a P.I.” Vinnie spreads his hands in front of him.
“Why do you want to know about me? For what purpose?” Veronica crosses her arms and looks at Vinnie accusingly.
Vinnie throws her a dirty look. “Don’t act like that.”
“Act like what? Stop being cagey. I think you owe me an answer,” says Veronica
“C’mon, Ronnie. Don’t play dumb with me. I know you know. You’ve gotta by now. You’re a P.I. too,” says Vinnie.
“Are you, like, infatuated with me?” Veronica’s face looks like she’s just spotted Mother Mary in a slice of toast.
“Dammit, Veronica.” Vinnie throws the paper down onto the bed. “It’s more than that. I just...wish we were closer. Wish we could you know, hang out a little.”
“We already hang out plenty,” says Veronica, looking pointedly at the bed.
“No, we don’t.” He sounds so defeated when he says this that it makes her look up and into his face.
Vinnie is already staring at her, and the expression on his face is so damned pitiful that it wrenches her insides. His mouth is closed and his eyes are crinkled, looking at her almost...wistfully.
She didn’t think Vinnie Van Lowe could look wistful. She’s not sure how long she looks at him there, but after a moment, she speaks.
“Do you really…want to be close? To me?” She sounds almost hesitant.
There is no pause between her question and his answer. His loud “Yes,” is spoken definitively.
“Yes, I do want to be close to you. A lot,” he says. “But only if you wanna. We can just keep on doing what we’re doing if that’s what you feel like. I sure as hell don’t want that to stop.”
Veronica laughs in spite of herself, puts her hand to her face and sniffs.
“Today Mac and I set our microwave on fire.”
“Yeah?” Vinnie smiles at her. A nice, interested smile. Not a lustful or smarmy smile. One that makes her want to tell him more about it.
“Our whole room smells like smoke. I was going to go stay at my Dad’s while it gets aired out. But, if you’re not doing anything...do you think I could stay here tonight?”
Vinnie smiled slowly. “Sure.” They both looked at each other awkwardly for a minute.
Veronica was surprised that the expression on his face made her legs tremble. Just a little.
A/N - i've written a sequel to this story and have started on a part three which i would be happy to upload if anyone else would care to read it. leave me a comment or email me if so. i don't want to keep writing this story, but it won't leave me alone.