Title: Love of
Author: Clara Fox
Summary: A Weever perspective on the final scene of 2x13, "Ain't No Magic Mountain High Enough."
Spoilers: Through 2x13, as you might well guess.
Rating: T for mild language
Disclaimer: The italicized dialogue and most of the quotes are transcribed directly from the show and belong to Rob Thomas and the writers. The rest is my own extrapolation.
Is it your undying love for me, or just good, old-fashioned lust?
If there is one thing in her life that Veronica Mars can always count on, it is her ability to think on her feet.
Growing up with a sheriff-turned-PI father and an alcoholic mother, she has seen her share of liars. She has admired the good ones, cringed at the mistakes of the bad. She is glib, consistent, and convincing. She hardly registers it as taking any effort, anymore.
… "My father knows where I am and what I'm doing." …
… "I have no idea where Duncan is." …
… "I'm shopping, in a funny little art gallery downtown." …
… "My fiancée and I are looking for a honeymoon suite." …
… "I tell you everything." …
… "I'm calling from Todd Russell's office." …
… "Hi. I'm Betty." …
… "Hi, you've reached Amber!" …
… "My name is Ellen White." …
… "My name is Laurie Sachs." …
… "My name is Dawn Lamb." …
Most of the time, Veronica can just rattle them off. Second nature. And if you can't think of the lie fast enough, the trick is to stall for time. Stay in character. If possible, be clever or sarcastic, but don't go overboard, or you're sunk right there.
Veronica Mars is very good at playing a part. Sometimes, she catches herself lying to herself. Little things, mostly.
"I'll set aside two hours each night this week to study, instead of working on cases."
"I would never actually knee Big Dick in the little one, if given the chance. I would also never attempt to manufacture such an opportunity."
"Logan will realize he's going too far, eventually, and calm down. He would never actually hurt anyone."
But usually she calls herself on the lies soon after thinking them. Sits herself down in her mind and gives herself a stern glance and a warning finger-wag.
So it was something of a kick in the stomach to realize how well she'd been fooling herself. The Interrogator-Veronica in her mind clawed frantically at the wool covering her face.
…that kept you from turning me in?
It was her hatred of Madison, obviously, that had kept her from turning Weevil in. And maybe a desire to preserve the beauty of taking back-to-back vengeance on three fairly scummy people. Pegging Weevil as the real thief would have ruined the golden feeling she'd finished the day with.
Besides, he had a record. There wouldn't be any more Get Out of Jail Free cards; she'd been the one to tell him that. He would be expelled, community soap, all that jazz. And he was good to have around. Useful. An important ally. It would be weird if he didn't come to school anymore, wasn't there to get her back, even though she didn't really need him to.
Crap. She didn't need him to stick around… she wanted him to. She would miss him. Miss conversations like the way this one had started off, an exchange of the witty banter that she knew would get him to flash that rare thing: a genuine smile. Crap.
Love. Of roller coasters.
Okay… that was okay. A fantastic lie in a couple of ways, actually, but then Weevil doesn't know how much Veronica hates roller coasters now. It's not the actual feeling of being on them, but the way they make her think about relationships.
Duncan was Superman: The Escape. Steady and cold for so long, then rocketing straight up – that cookie and the end of the summer and the night that she had come to accept as her real first time. It had been wonderful and getting steadily better, and then the bottom had fallen out, she had been dragged backwards to the beginning again.
Logan could be any number of coasters. The classic boardwalk ride: Colossus, or maybe Psyclone. Giddy ups and downs, feeling happier and sexier than she ever had in her life, and then sickening realizations, betrayals, media scandals, mistrust. Over and over, making her sicker and sicker until she had just gotten off the ride.
No, Veronica didn't need any physical reminders of her past. She probably would end up going to Six Flags, but only because Wallace would force her, and she would never explain to him why she didn't want to go, because it was about the most girly and cliché relationship metaphor ever.
Does Weevil believe her roller coaster story? Before that grin spreads and makes her go to pieces completely, she catches sight of Madison and finds herself a clincher.
And hatred of anything that requires me to tie a sweater over my shoulders and be at sea with my classmates.
Excellent. Totally believable. In character. Now all she has to do is make a confident exit. Just has to not reach out and brush her hand over his velvety new hair. Her urge isn't really to feel whether it's as fuzzy as it looks – what she wants isn't so much the touching, but for him to allow her to. To tame the rough biker boy. And also a little bit the touching.
Obviously, she will not actually reach out and run her hands over his head. She will turn around and mark this up in the column of smashingly successful lies. Which will be easy as long as she doesn't try to oversell it.
Nothing to do with you.
Crap! Way to go, super-spy.
He does that smile again. Veronica must develop an immunity to the smile. She must keep her cool, make that damn exit, and then work on that immunity. Not go sprawl across her bed and imagine a different kind of conversation that might produce similar grins.
She finally manages to walk away from him, but she can't help smiling back.