There are a lot of things Veronica would rather do than attend Parker's party solo. Dick is one of them. AU. Deviates from canon during episode 3:16 - Un-American Graffiti.


Things Veronica would rather do than attend this party solo. Seven minutes of heaven with Scott Peterson. Ride the space elevator with Dick.

"Hold the door!"

Veronica rolled her eyes as Dick squeezed into the elevator beside her before it shut.

"Always the lady," he said, looking at her. "You came. Good for you. Thought something like this would be unbelievably awkward."

Unlike this.

Veronica looked at Dick. "Your fly's open," she said, not knowing whether to be curious, amused, or disgusted. Probably all three.

"I know," he said. "Party ritual."

Veronica wasn't going to ask.

When he pulled the flask out of his pocket, Veronica wasn't sure what made her reach for it. Or rather, she was, but she didn't know why dutch courage was suddenly so much more important than her self-imposed vow to never again drink something Dick Casablancas had touched.

He didn't even pretend to look offended when she wiped the mouth of the flask with her sleeve.

Things Veronica would rather do than attend this party solo. Share a drink with Dick Casablancas.

"Veronica Mars," he said, impressed. "What's that line about the beginning of some sort of friendship?"

Veronica took a drink. A big one.

When the elevator stopped, it took her a moment to realise that they weren't on Logan's floor. "Going up?" she asked the couple who entered.

"I'd rather you were going -"

"Do not finish that sentence if you want to live," Veronica interrupted him, and Dick looked suitably abashed.

The second time he handed her the flask, Veronica didn't bother to wipe it down.

The elevator stopped again to let the couple out, and Veronica handed the flask back to Dick.

"Keep it," he said. "You probably need it more than I do."

Veronica drank again.

After the fourth time she drank, she waved the flask again, and Dick took it. Madison had been wrong; this was the longest elevator ride ever.

Dick handed the flask back as the doors opened, and Veronica took it almost eagerly.

"So, what do you think of Logan's new -"

Veronica knew that it was clich├ęd to stop him with a kiss, but a part of her brain didn't care. Probably the same part of her brain that had been way too responsive to the whiskey.

Also the part of her brain that didn't care that she was now kissing Dick Casablancas.

She really wished his fly wasn't open.

From the look on Logan's face, Veronica knew that he hadn't missed the fact that she and Dick entered the party together. Or that Dick's fly was open. Or that Dick was adjusting his pants as they walked into the room.

That, Veronica did care about.


"Wow, that's fascinating," Veronica said, her voice saccharine sweet. "But, would you look at that, we're out of ice. I'd better go get some."

Turning on her heel before the man in front of her had time to object, Veronica fled the room, pausing to reflect only once she was outside the suite that she hadn't even bothered to take an ice bucket. Not that it mattered. If the guy she'd been talking to didn't recognise an exit line when he was fed one, he was even more clueless than she'd thought.

Nevertheless, Veronica walked down the hall to the ice machine. Just in case.

She was not expecting to see Dick Casablancas when she got there.

"Ronnie!" he called through the glass, and Veronica scowled. She should turn around and leave.

Nope, she didn't know why her legs weren't moving, either.

"Dick, what are you doing in there?" she asked instead.

"They locked me in."

"Who's 'they?'"

"Um, just some chicks."

Veronica rolled her eyes. That explained everything.

She opened the door. And shut it behind her.

"You have the ice bucket?" she asked, before Dick could ask her why she'd just done what she'd done. That wasn't a question she could answer.

"Yeah. Why are you in here with me?"

Veronica shook her head.

And kissed him again.

Dick tasted like whiskey, but to be fair, so did she. He also tasted like not-Logan, which was definitely a good thing.

Dick Casablancas had never been one to question good luck - or, in this case, a hot, annoying blonde - when it fell into his lap. He kissed her back.

Veronica drew back after a minute, breathless. "Are you sure you're not doing this to get back at Logan?" he asked her.

"That's exactly why I'm doing this," Veronica said, and leaned in again.

Dick shrugged. He was pretty sure that the threesome with the MySpace chicks wasn't going to work out, and this was almost as good.

Hell, this was better.

After a minute, Veronica could almost forget that she was kissing Dick Casablancas. When his hand reached up to cup her breast through her shirt, she forced that all the way to 'completely.'

Because Dick was, well, Dick. He was also not Logan. And he felt really good pressed up against her.

When somebody moaned, it took Veronica a minute to register that it had been her. She waited for herself to care.

But then Dick reached lower with his other hand, unbuttoning her jeans, and Veronica was almost glad that she didn't.

She moaned again, on purpose this time, and Dick echoed her, pressing her up against the side of the small room. When he finally got her jeans undone, he slid them down over her hips, and Veronica pulled his shirt over his head.

"This is really stupid," she said, pulling back so Dick could remove her shirt.

"So?" he asked.

Veronica shook her head. "I just thought one of us should state the obvious." She pulled him back towards her, her fingernails digging into his back as his hand slid under the waistband of her underwear.

She leaned her head back as Dick kissed her neck, sliding her own hand past his jeans into his boxers. His fly was still undone, and this time, Veronica was neither amused nor disgusted.

"Condom," she managed to gasp as Dick pulled her underwear down. He reached into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out a foil-wrapped packet, and Veronica didn't bother with the obligatory eye roll. This was no time to berate him for being over-eager.

Or not, as things turned out.

Things Veronica would rather do than attend this party solo. Make out with Dick Casablancas against an ice machine.

Fuck Dick Casablancas.

As he entered her, Veronica cried out. He didn't stop, or slow down, or ask if she was okay, but thrust into her again, and Veronica was suddenly very glad that they weren't in his bedroom. Of all the ways that she had ever wanted to get back at Logan, she knew that this was not one of them.

She also knew that she would never live down the fact that Dick Casablancas made her come.

He followed her moments later, and Veronica didn't mind the few minutes it took him to compose himself, remove the condom, and - finally - zip his fly up.

They walked back into the party together.