Much as I like jo_anne_storm's version (Actually, the killer is Lilly. Yep, that's right, she offed herself. Bashed her head in with an ashtray and then threw it into the pool before collapsing. Veronica was raped by Shelly Pomeroy, who is actually a transvestite. Sheriff Lamb and Veronica end up in a madly passionate relationship after he solves the murder. I think it's just pity sex at first, but it is hot.), I came up with Vice Principal Clemmons and Veronica get together after a drunken late night fishing expedition.
You know what's coming, don't you?
Yes. I wrote it.
It was cold, it was clammy and for some reason it was in the same bed as me.
"What the hell happened last night?" I mutter, blurredly opening one eye. I had a hangover, but I’d be damned if I needed leet detective skills to realise that much. Rolling over slightly, I look for the source of the snoring.
Vice Principal Clemmons.
Okay, okay…. Detective instincts. Think. Step one…. step one…. Am I naked? Yup.
How naked? Very naked. Triple crap. And had I….? Ohhh yeah. Certainly, the last time I felt that sore but that good was… okay. So not going there.
Step two – inspect his evidence.
Just reach out and lift up the sheet.
Count of three… one, two, three. Now! Anytime now. Four?
I stretch out one wavering hand, and reach for the sheet. “Veronica?!?” he says, suddenly moving, and opening his eyes.
I jump. Yes, me. Hard-bitten detective girl, scourge of Neptune High, able to frighten off a biker with a single glance (and delicate use of a taser). There might also have been a high pitched squeal.
“Veronica Mars!?!” he repeats, sounding slightly more worried than before.
There’s a brief moment where he grabs for the sheet to cover himself up more, and I grab for the sheet to ensure my coverage. And the sheet goes back and forth, until by the same laws of physics I’m meant to be revising tonight (last night?) we end up next to each other again.
And again, it’s cold and clammy against my skin. So, without taking my eyes off Van Clemmons, I reach down and pull the fish out. And just like that, everything floods back.
Van Clemmons calling me into his office. The bartering. The bantering. The blank hall pass (valid for 4 uses). The problem with the lodge at his brother’s fishing lake. Travelling there. Falling in the lake after Harrison stole our car. Van Clemmons pulling me out.
Breaking into the lodge. Drinking the whisky to warm ourselves up. Huddling together to stay warm. More drinking. More huddling. The mad midnight idea to go fishing. Actually catching fish. Celebrating. More banter.
And from his face, I can tell it’s all coming back to him too.
“Well,” I say, blinking myself back to reality as fast as I can, “I certainly wasn’t expecting that, Mr Vice Principal. Or is that Principal in charge of Vice?”
He gave me his standard semi-glare. Must be the hangover, or he’d remember that never works on me. “Most amusing, Miss Mars…” he starts before I cut him off.
“Uh-uh. I think that after last night, you can call me Veronica at the very least,” and I try my glare out on him. That works.
“Look, Vice-ie, last night was… interesting and I’m not going to be reporting you or anything like that. I was certainly aware enough of I was doing, and I made most of the moves after all.”
“Veronica,” he says, sounding tired and not like the Vice-Principal I know so well. “It doesn’t matter – I should not have done that, and particularly not to a student in my care.”
I press my hand to my forehead, forgetting my sheet is now no longer held up. I eep a little and then remember a bit more about last night. “Eh. Not like you hadn’t seen them before. Hey, without a lot of what we did last night, we’d have frozen. The rest was a bonus.”
A small, satisfied smirk can’t help crossing my face, as a lot more comes back to me. “Oh yeah, a very nice bonus.”
He sighs and drops his side of the sheet as well. His torso looks pretty damn tasty in the morning sunlight. Is that a bite ma…I did that? Wow. Van Clemmons gets as far as “Veron…” before I cut him off by kissing him.
He’s as good a kisser as I remember. And as I slide my hand under the sheet, that’s not all I remember correctly too. “And no,” I whisper as I pull back slightly, “You’re not getting a say in this.”
It’s true what they say. Get a man by the balls and you can lead him.
This time I’m in my right mind.
This time I know exactly what I’m doing.
This time I’m going to remember.