Title Lamb for Dinner
author devylish
fandom veronica mars
pairing veronica/lamb
word count 3450
Rating R
AN this has been sitting on a notepad for forever. Hope you like.
Disclaimer On my profile

"All right Ladies, get your pens and check books ready, because up next on the block is Neptune's very own Sheriff Don Lamb!"

Whistling … Hooting….

"He's out of uniform tonight, but I'm sure you'll all agree, with the way those jeans and shirt are fitting him, he still looks good enough to… well… I'll leave that up to your imagination! Sheriff, can you do a little turn for the ladies; just so they can get a complete picture of who they're bidding to have dinner with?"

More whistles and howls echoed through the hall.

"Whew! Ladies… settle down now! The long arm of the law apparently has some other really nice ass-ummmm-sets...assets as well!"


Veronica groaned inwardly from her seat in the media section of the Neptune Harbor Inn Conference Hall. The 1st Annual Women's Charity Auction for the Betterment of Neptune's Youth was being held today. They'd auctioned off clothing, art work, cars, spa treatments, and now, now, they were auctioning off sex… erh… or rather, dinner dates with eligible Neptune bachelors.

Veronica was at the event doing double duty: 1) she was covering the event for the Hearst Chronicle, and 2) she'd promised Wallace that she'd bid on him if it looked like he needed support. Yep. That's right, Wallace Fennel was one of the bachelor's up for auction. The Women's Charity group had decided not to offer up the usual choice of spoiled rich boytoys seen at these kind of events, and instead, they'd nominated and pursued Neptune's 'everyday' men. The only per-requisites in choosing the men had been that they be: bachelors, and good looking.

Glancing up from the laptop that sat on the table in front of her, Veronica watched Sheriff Don Lamb cockily making his way down the stage.

She swallowed hard.

She had never admitted this to anyone but she had had the biggest crush on Lamb when she was a pre-teen. When her dad brought him home that first night, so many years ago, she'd thought Lamb was handsome in his uniform. Of course, that was years ago.

She gulped as Lamb moved down the stage. Yup... that was years ago. She'd never EVER admit that there were still times when the way he filled out his uniform made her nerve ends tingle.

As the Emcee had indicated, Lamb wasn't in a uniform tonight, but the edges of her nerves were … well... they were doing something. He definitely fit the Women's Charity Auction prerequisite of good looking.

There ought to be a law against someone being such a pain in the ass AND being so hot at the same time,'Veronica thought.

"Ice Water?"

"Hmmm?" Veronica focused on the the person standing before her.

"Would you care for a complimentary ice water ma'am?" the waiter was wearing a bored look on his face and holding a tray with several bottled waters on it.

"..Uh… yeah, thanks." She offered up a commiserating smile and accepted a chilled beverage before returning her attention to the emcee and the stage.

"One more thing Ladies, before we start the bidding on the sheriff, Don asked that I make all of you wonderful women aware that, while he, of course, couldn't bring his handcuffs from work with him to the auction, he did bring his own personal pair with him."

Veronica watched Lamb at this prompt reach into his back pocket and pull out a shiny pair of silver cuffs.

Women squealed and applauded as he smirked that irritating Don Lamb smirk and twirled the platinum rings around his fingers.

"Okay ladies, let's start the bidding off at the minimum of $50.00."

"And I have $50 in the back; do I hear $75? $75 to the lady in blue. $75... I have 100 in the front... $200 from the lady in blue. $250. Do I have 250? $250! Yes! Again ladies this is a man of the law. He carries a big gun!"

Veronica nearly choked on the water she'd just sipped. Seriously, women talked about men treating them as a piece of meat... Women could do some definite 'meat treating' themselves! She glanced at Don Lamb's figure as he strutted and posed on the stage.

… of course, if you're going to talk about yummy looking pieces of meat... Veronica groaned and forced herself to stop devouring Lamb with her eyes. You don't like Lamb, Mars. You don't like anything about Lamb.

"... I have $300 from our chair woman, Mrs. Anderson!"


Up on the makeshift stage, Don stared and smiled blindly into the frenzied conference hall. The lights that shone on the stage served to blind him to the first 3 or four rows of tables that surrounded the stage, but he didn't need to see the women in the audience to know he was a hit. The hoots, howls and screams were, he smirked, a nice stroke to the ego. And he was a man who loved to have his ego stroked.

As he gazed out over the hall, he could just make out the women at the far ends of the room; he tucked one side of the cuffs in the front right pocket of his jeans, and strutted forward to the edge of the stage. Scanning the crowd, working the women - all in the name of charity - of course, he half froze when he caught a glimpse of blonde in the far corner of the room.

And it wasn't just any blonde that he saw. It was his blonde. His petite blonde from hell. Veronica Mars.

And she was looking at him.

He pulled his eyes away from her and looked at the opposite side of the room; studying other women, other faces, as the emcee did her magic.

Finally, he turned his eyes back to Veronica. It seemed he always came back to her.


Veronica froze when Lamb's eyes connected with hers. She blinked, slowly opening her eye lids only to find that he was still looking at her.

Unable to stop herself, she watched as he slipped his hand to the waistband of his jeans and ran his fingers along the edge – teasingly – before dipping and curling them slowly, and... pulling out the hem of his t-shirt.

He stretched the material around his fist - tautly – pulling the black cotton away from his abdomen.


The sound of women screaming and yelling in appreciation, disappeared and suddenly, Veronica could feel a rush of... something... pumping through her system; a faint flush crept up her chest, her neck, her face.

A butterfly - or rather a flock of butterflies – lit in her belly.

They were the same butterflies she use to feel when Duncan looked at her. The same butterflies she felt when she was with Logan - when he looked at her... only, there were more of them. More butterflies.

More butterflies, and she was feeling them, deep in her belly, because of Don Lamb.



Winking at Mars, Lamb turned his back to the audience and slowly dropped the shirt as he made his way to the main stage.


The butterfly spell – she looked suspiciously at the water bottle she'd unsealed herself – was broken, and suddenly, Veronica could hear again. All around her women were cat-calling and whistling in appreciation of one Sheriff Don Lamb.

The Emcee shouted over the melee: "I have $600.00 for our hard working... hard bodied Sheriff – going once. Going twice. G-"


The words were out of Veronica's mouth before she knew she had opened it.

And she wished she could pull them back as soon as she said them. The other women in the media section with her applauded, laughed and patted her on the back as the Emcee echoed: "$750.00 from the reporter in the back! They're not just reporting the news folks, they're making it! $750.00 ladies. For a night of unbridled, unadulterated, hot... umm... dinner with Neptune's own Sheriff! $750.00 going once..."

Veronica closed her eyes and tried to disappear in to the metal and fabric chair she sat on... but even in her shrunken, distanced state, she could feel Lamb's eyes boring in to her.


Lamb almost tripped over his own feet when he heard Veronica's voice bidding for dinner with him. For $750.00! First of all, he didn't know she had that kind of cash – unless she was planning on getting it from one of her ex's which he doubted – but secondly, why? Why would she spend a penny to eat a meal with him when normally you wouldn't be able to pay her to spend two seconds in his presence?

He toyed briefly with the idea that the momentary heat that he'd imagined he felt when he locked eyes with her from the stage was the cause of her unexpected action. But his mind couldn't, wouldn't, let him be convinced of that.

Somewhere in the back of his head, Don has always been drawn to Veronica. To her eyes – sparking with laughter... mischief... anger. To her smile... taunting... brighter than the sun. From the first day that they'd met – her in her pigtails – through to today, he'd always felt his gut clinch when she was nearby.

Proof that he wasn't a sick-fuck-pedeophile lay in the fact that his attraction to her had actually increased as she'd gotten older. Veronica Mars as a pre-teen had held promise... suggested beauty – piqued his interest. Veronica Mars now? As an adult? She fucking blew the word beautiful out of the dictionary. Now, there were times when he couldn't even breathe when she was near. So yeah, he thought Veronica was damn beautiful... And damn confusing. $750.00?

Don stared at her from the far end of the stage and listened as the Emcee finished up the bid, "...going twice! Going, going... gone! Sheriff Don Lamb sold for... dinner... to the petite blonde in the media section!"


'Oh fuck!' Thought Veronica as she smiled blindly at the congratulatory women around her. She refused to look at HIM again. Refused to get trapped by his...whatever it was about him that was working on her.

Looking down at the water in her hand again, she decided to swear off of water... just in case.


Stepping behind the stage curtain as the next bachelor – Veronica's friend Wallace – stepped on stage, Don was greeted by one of the Auxiliary organizers. She quickly thanked him for donating his time and then requested that he follow her to his date's side asap for the official photograph and payment exchange.

Rubbing his hands along the back of his neck, Lamb nodded uncertainly and followed the locomotive of a woman out into the crowd to the opposite side of the room.

As they maneuvered through the gaggle of women, Lamb felt pinches and a couple of grabs on his anatomy that confirmed his theory that men were wrong when they said women were meek, gentle, shy, little things. Women had claws, and when they saw something they wanted...

Within seconds his guide, Mrs. Baynes, had delivered him to the area set aside for the media representatives and she was tapping on Veronica's shoulder.

Veronica looked up expecting to have to face yet another feminine, tipsy, or lusty word of congratulations on her 'successful' bid. Her faux smile froze on her face when she saw Lamb standing behind Mrs. Baynes.

"On behalf of The Women's Auxiliary Committee's 1st Annual Women's Charity Auction for the Betterment of Neptune's Youth, I'd like to thank you for your donation of $750.00 and I'd like to present you with your prize: a dinner date with Neptune's bachelor: Sheriff Don Lamb. Now," she looked away from the little index card she'd been reading from, and lowering her voice a bit she leaned in towards Veronica. "There's just the little matter of the money? We accept cash, check, money order, or credit card."

Veronica grimaced, stood up and reached in to her back pocket, offering Wallace a silent apology for spending the money in her possession on a momentary lapse of judgment. But from he continued hoots going on throughout the hall, Veronica could tell that Wallace wasn't doing too badly for himself on stage. "Cash... It'll be cash."

"Lovely. Okay, Brendon! Brendon?" Mrs Baynes' voice cut through the crowd to reach a lean cameraman who stood a few feet away with a camera around his neck. "Brendon get a shot of me accepting the money from Miss... Mrs... what's your name dear? We'll need that for the records too."

She wanted to lie. To say Mackenzie or, or, some other name, but a quick glance at Lamb's smirking face steeled her in to giving her real name. "Mars. Veronica Mars."

Mrs. Baynes glanced at Veronica's left hand. "Ms. Mars. Okay, good. Good. The woman stepped back and reached for Lamb, thrusting him, without warning to Veronica's side.

While the crowd continued to go wild over the sexy smile of Neptune's Wallace Fennel, Mrs. Baynes reached between Lamb and Veronica and tucked Lamb's arm around Veronica's waist and dropped Veronica's arm around his hip, then took a step back to admire her work.

"No. No. Closer. Closer." She pushed their hips together and turned Veronica in toward Lamb so that her body was facing almost completely in towards him. Putting Veronica's right hand on the Sheriff's abdomen, Ms. Baynes tilted Veronica's head up so that she was looking at Lamb's face.

Stepping back once again, she sighed. "There now...that's it. Brendon, start shooting. I want 2-3 shots to choose from."


Lamb's ability to think clearly had gone out the window the minute his hand had gone around Veronica's waist. She was so petite. Such a tiny thing in comparison to him, and yet, he knew somewhere in his core, that she could break him, probably faster, and more completely than ten men double his size.

When he looked down and saw her 'deer trapped in the headlights' expression at having been maneuvered into his arms by the commandeering Mrs. Baynes, he reminded himself that he wasn't always the superhero she pretended to be. She was a woman. A woman who was soft and malleable. Lifting a hand he pushed a stray lock of hair from her face and lowered his head just a bit. "Meet me for our dinner date at my place at 8pm tomorrow." Something flashed through her eyes, and then he felt her frame tighten as she wound up to protest. He added, "that is, unless you're scared."


Her first thought as Lamb pulled away from her was to pull him back. Her second thought was that she was clearly, clearly going insane. In 'normal' world she didn't want to breathe the same air Lamb did. But in the 'Bizzaro' world that she'd apparently entered, oxygen didn't seem to be necessary – Lamb did.

As Lamb walked way, and Mrs. Baynes reviewed the photos with Brendon, Veronica took a deep breath and made a plan. Since her current insanity seemed to be triggered by Lamb's proximity, she would definitely not be showing up to go out to dinner with him. No closeness … no bizzaro thoughts about wanting to lick her way up... or down Don Lamb's abs.


'So the only reason I'm doing this,' she thought as she smoothed the palms of her hands against the front of her skirt, 'is because he dared me. If Lamb hadn't intimated that I was scared of him, I'd be curled on the couch with Backup instead of standing in front of Lamb's place trying to get the cojones to press the damn doorbell.'

She took a deep breath and looked down at her outfit again; not being certain of where they would be going for dinner had left her confused as to what to wear. So she'd gone with simple – but feminine. Something that hopefully said: I'm not afraid of you without saying: Free trip to Mars.

Pushing a lock of hair behind her ear she took another deep breath and lifted her hand to the doorbell, but before she touched it, the door swung open.


Lamb leaned against the door frame, and looked down at Veronica for a half a second before drawling: "It's 8:05 Mars; are you going to stand outside my door for another five minutes, or are you coming in?"

She screwed on her 'I couldn't hate you more' face and pushed past him. "So let's get this over with. Where are we going?" She let her eyes graze over his outfit in search of a clue – he was wearing a t shirt, jeans and he was barefoot. As he closed the door behind her, Veronica realized that she could smell something, something marvelous,emanating from her kitchen. She closed her eyes, "Oh fuck!"

"We're not going anywhere." He felt her stiffen as he placed his hand on the small of her back. He slowly propelled her into his living room. "Tonight you'll be dining at Chez Lamb."

The lights in the living room were dimmed and on the coffee table several pillar candles were lit while place settings for two were placed next to each other. It was... romantic. It was seductive. Not at all what she would have expected from Lamb. Not that she'd ever really expected anything from Lamb.


The small of her back, where his hand rested, was radiating small short shockwaves through her body. The waves moved from his hand, to the base of her skull. From his hand to her nipples. From his hand to her belly. From his hand to her clit. And she had a funny feeling that standing was going to become a severe problem in about thirty seconds.

Lamb wasn't doing anything special with his hand. He wasn't even moving his hand, it was simply the contact of his hand against her back. The damn closeness factor.

"Mars?"He lowered his head to hers, his mouth against her ear, "You're being awfully quiet."

She shivered inwardly and hated herself for doing so."I'm thinking. You should try it sometime."

He chuckled and the warm breath of his laughter tracing against her neck and ear made her shiver again, and this time she couldn't stop herself from physically shaking.

"'Smatter Mars?"

"Nothing you can fix Deputy. Just a little chilled.

Lamb didn't respond with words, he simply lifted both of his hands to her arms , stroking them up and down; 'warming' her.

She could feel the calluses on the pads of his fingers and she cursed at herself for wanting to know how those calluses would feel against her neck... her breasts... the swell of her belly.

She closed her eyes as her mind and body warred. Run Veronica...Run! Stay Veronica... Stay!

And then she heard a soft purring sound a sound that made her blush when she realized that it was coming from her own throat. Well crap. Maybe I should just give in... just... for a few minutes. Or maybe a couple of hours. Or a night.

When Lamb pulled her pliant form against his chest and wrapped one arm around her waist he slid his other hand down her free arm and grasped her hand in his, tangling their fingers together. He lowered his head to her ear again and whispered, "I was thinking we could start off with dessert first?"

She tried to put up one more weak hail Mary fight by responding "Mmmm, no. Mmm, never really been one for dessert. Dessert is bad for you – goes to the hips and... uhmmmmmmm..." she stopped talking as soon as Lamb's palm began to drift around her frame. He didn't lingering any one spot, but he traversed the curves between her tiny waist and the hem of her short skirt.

Breathlessly she teased, "Frisking me Sheriff?"

"I'd really hate to get tasered later on."

"Later on?"

"Mmmm hmmm." His chest rumbled against her back.

It was kind of funny, but when he said 'Mmmm hmmm' Veronica heard the unspoken promise of a night of pleasure. And it would have been hard to tell which one of them was imagining her lying in his bed, her arms above her head, his mouth at her breast, his hips – pressed against hers.

She gave a small sigh in response to his 'mmmm', and he continued. "So as I was saying...dessert?"

Veronica gave up – finally – and turning in Lamb's arms she made eye contact. "Do you have any whip cream?"