He pulls a beer from the fridge and downs half of it in one long pull, trying to keep his mind from focusing on the fact that in less than an hour, he's going to be alone in a car with Veronica Mars - lock her in the back and fuck her senseless, Lilly's voice whispers in his ear - and then he's going to be sitting in a booth with Veronica Mars pretending they're a couple.

"Fuck."

He finishes the beer in another long drag and tosses the bottle, glancing at the clock to see if he has time for another shower or at least another quick jerk. He's halfway to his bedroom when the doorbell rings. He strides over and opens it, about to snap when he sees her and sucks in his breath.

"Holy shit."

"Too much?"

She's wearing a see-through white blouse with a red bra underneath and a skirt so short he could fuck her without moving an inch of fabric. "I thought we were going for subtle. I rented a fucking Camry, for fuck's sake."

"I thought we should get the lay of the land before I went in all demure and saleable."

"Lay being the correct word here. Christ, Mars. No one's going to be looking at anything other than your tits and your c…" He shakes his head violently. "This is a set-up, right? Your father's outside with a shotgun or, better still, an arrest warrant?" He leans back against the back of the couch and stares at her, finally noticing the thick red hair of the wig she's wearing. "I don't like redheads."

"Don't worry. The carpet doesn't match the curtains." She puts her fists on her hips and glares at him. "Are you going to do this with me or not? Because if you're not man enough, Sheriff…"

"You're going to have every guy in the place watching you."

"Which is what we want, so they don't recognize you when you come back with your sweet, young blonde."

"You don't think they have video surveillance? You think they're trafficking women and are just assuming everyone there is on the up and up?"

"Slap a moustache on then, Junior." She glances at the gold watch around her wrist. "Time's a-wastin'."

"Fine." He grabs his jacket off the couch and tosses it at her. "Put this on."

"So gallant."

He takes her arm and steers her toward the door. "You're lucky I am a gentleman, Mars."

"Wow. Did Webster update the definition of that word?"

He ushers her to the car and unlocks the door. She slides in and looks up at him, eyes the same under the wig.

"How did I let you talk me into this?" he asks.

"You need me."

Lamb slams the door and walks to his side of the car, muttering softly under his breath. "You've got no idea, Mars."

"Camera there at the entrance," Veronica's body is pressed against his, his hands smoothing down her back to the curve of her ass and then back up. Her hand is on his thigh and she's breathing on his neck. "Two bouncers at least."

"There's perimeter surveillance." He's surprised at how normal his voice sounds considering she's practically on top of him. "What's our plan for tonight?"

"Case the joint, Sheriff." She turns her head slightly and her lips whisper against the skin below his ear. "Get the lay of the land, watch the movements of the employees." She grins against him and pulls away slowly. He glances down and notices her hard nipples, wondering briefly how he's going to walk the short distance to the door of the club. "Speaking of…" Her smile grows as she straightens her shirt, pulling it tight over her breasts. "This club? It's sort of a strip-club."

"The movements of the employees, hmm?" He smirks at her, shaking his head. "Your friend?"

"A waitress." She leans in and touches her finger to his lips. "What do you say, Sheriff? Shall we go and pretend that you like me?"

"Maybe you should avoid calling me Sheriff in there, hmm?" Her finger stays against his lip as he speaks. "It might give the game away."

"Can I call you Don?"

"I don't know, Mars. Can you?" He gets out of the car and moves around to open the door for her, taking her hand as she holds it out to him. "And what should I call you? Betty?"

"Trixie."

"You're kidding, right?" He laughs and slides his arm around her small waist. His hard on is manageable - he's on the job - but his brain backlogs the feel of her as his hand splays across her hip. "Why not Nancy?"

"Too obvious." She grins up at him and, impulsively, he leans in, kissing her softly. She stumbles slightly, only his arm catching her.

"Careful, Trix. You might get hurt."

"I might look drunk." She glares at him, eyes flashing in the faded yellow light. "Don't do that."

"What's the matter, Mars?" he whispered the words in her ear, nipping at her earlobe. "Am I turning you on?"

"It might blow our cover if I got sick right here in front of everyone."

"We're not going to make a very convincing couple if I sit across the booth from you." He stops and holds her still, his free hand flat against her stomach. "This is your plan, Mars. You want to stop it now, just say the word. I've got better things to do." She meets his gaze and holds it. Her lips are pursed defiantly as he moves closer, his breath playing over her mouth. "Well?"

She licks his lips and smiles, though he can tell through the bolt of heat that shoots through him that it doesn't reach her eyes. "What could possibly be better than this?"

"Doing my taxes?" He suggests with a low laugh. "Interrogating suspects? Jailing your slew of boyfriends? Sitting through a sexual harassment seminar given by Inga?"

Veronica laughs and pushes him away. He gets a good long look at her and shakes his head slowly with appreciation. "Slutty is a good look for you."

"I'll take that under advisement." She moves toward him, her hips swaying. "Come on, Don. Let's go play." She links her arm through his, keeping him close but at a distance, and pulls him toward the door of the club, laughing huskily just loud enough to be heard. "Are you sure a nice girl like me should come to a place like this?"

"Darlin', I can't think of any place better." He shares a look with the bouncer who smirks. "Hey there."

"Four drink minimum. Keep your hands off the dancers." The bouncer runs a metal wand over both of them, though Lamb's unsure where Veronica could possibly be hiding anything. "No sex in the booths. Makes 'em sticky."

Veronica taps a finger against his huge chest. "Bill Clinton's definition of sex? Or someone else's?"

"Keep your hands and mouth to yourself, honey."

Veronica sighs and looks at Lamb with a pout. "Sorry, darlin'. I guess I'm gonna have to be a good girl and wait until we get home."

"He said no sex at the table, Trix. He didn't say I couldn't fuck you in the car."

Veronica giggles and pushes him again then curls against him as he puts his arm around her. She rises up on her toes and whispers in his ear. "Touch me in the car and I'll make you a eunuch."

"Stop talkin' dirty, Trix, or I'm not going to be able to help myself." He licks the shell of her ear and laughs low, husky. "Coming, darlin'?"

"He just told me I couldn't." She pouts again and falls in step with him as they make their way into the dark club. Music pounds heavily and the place is filled; couples fill the booths and a ring of patrons surround the stage where a girl not much older than Veronica is bumping and grinding against the floor. Veronica nods toward a row of booths filled with older men and younger women. "There?"

"Not tonight." He finds a booth not far from where she suggests and slides into it, pulling her against him. "There's a guard at the edge of that section. He doesn't look like one, but I bet if we tried to get in there tonight, we'd be ever so politely turned away." He lets his gaze slide down her body again. "You look too old tonight. Did you see the girls?"

"Yeah." Veronica bites at her lower lip then sucks on it. He reaches down and presses against his cock, adjusting it in his jeans. "They barely look old enough to drive."

"They probably aren't." He smiles at the waitress as she stops in front of their table, letting his appreciation show for her obviously enhanced, bare breasts. "I don't suppose those are on the menu?"

"Don!" Veronica gasps and slaps him on the arm, harder than he expects. "You're terrible."

"Don't blame me, honey. I just thought maybe she was offering a taste of the nightly special." He smoothes his hand along her thigh. "If I can't have you, baby…"

"Keep asking questions like that and you won't have me, baby," she threatens with a laugh. "I'll have a cosmopolitan."

"Two fingers of bourbon. No ice." He eyes the waitress's bored look. "And make sure it's the good stuff."

"Cost ya."

"Everything does." He grins. "Except my little Trixie here."

"Oh, I don't know, Don. I might rack up an expense or two." She runs her fingernails up his thigh and he swallows hard. "Though I'm definitely worth it." She leans in and lets her hand slide higher, edging dangerously toward his cock. "Don't you think?"

"No sex," the waitress reminds them as she turns around, her shorts curving tightly over her ass.

"Shit, Mars," he breathes, catching her hand and putting it back on her lap. "Undercover means we try and lay low."

"We're not doing anything half the other couples aren't." She rests her chin in her hand and her elbow on the table. "They don't look unhappy."

"The girls? Probably compensated for their presence." He nods toward the one closest to them. "Look at the rock on her hand."

"We're not that far from Neptune. Half the 09ers have rocks like that."

"Yeah, well, half the 09ers are fucking older men too. So should we just go home?" The waitress approaches them and sets their drinks on the table. He slides a tip across the table, keeping his finger on it until the waitress tilts her head and sticks her hand on her hip.

"You're not getting a taste of anything."

"What's with the special section?"

"If you have to ask, you can't afford to know." She pulls the tip from beneath his hand. "You want three more of these and a bill or you just want to run up a tab?"

"Whatever the lady wants." He glances at Veronica and smiles, his gaze drifting down to her breasts. Her nipples are hard and tight beneath the lacy red fabric. Lowering his voice, he takes the hand she has resting on his thigh and slides it higher. "What do you want?"

"Let's buy them all now, so we can leave if the mood takes us." She winks at him and squeezes his thigh. "I don't want to wait all night."

The waitress turns as leaves as the music changes and the stage goes black. Veronica nods toward the platform lowering from the lights. "My friend."

"Your friend's a stripper?"

"They can't all be in the police department." She leans in closer, dropping her voice despite the increasing beat of the music. "Don't tell me you're honestly surprised by my close personal relationship with the criminal element."

"Nothing about you surprises me." He watches her take a drink of her cosmopolitan and shakes his head. "If we get pulled over and you're drunk, I'm telling everyone I found you and I'm taking you back to your Daddy."

"So my daddy can kill you?"

"That would hurt his chances of becoming Sheriff."

"I don't know," she took another drink. "You might be overestimating your own popularity."

"Come on, Mars," he whispers in her ear as she stumbles against him, staggering slightly in her high heels. "You're drunk."

"Mmm. Maybe." She falls back against the Camry as he fishes the keys out of his pocket.

"It's not going to be much of a fact-finding mission if you're too wasted to remember your own name."

"I know my name." She trails a finger down his chest, hooking it beneath one of the buttons. "Even more important, I know yours. It's what I'm going to scream tonight, right?"

"What are you doing?"

"Audience," she smiles and leans into him, following a quick flicker of her tongue across his lips with a kiss. "They're watching us."

"And you're a little exhibitionist?"

"Come on, Sheriff. They think you want to fuck me in your car. They think you can't wait to get your hands on me. Are you going to be all prim and proper and make them suspect that maybe we're not what we seem to be? Or are you going to act like this," she runs her free hand over the swell of his erection, "is more than just for show?"

"You're drunk."

"Not so drunk that I can ride you for a suitable amount of time and then fake an orgasm." She squeezes gently then harder. "I fake everything else with you, Sheriff. Surely this won't hurt."

He opens the passenger door and slides in, tugging her in after him. She straddles him and wraps her arms around his neck, settling her ass on his thighs. Her skirt rides up even higher until heat pools against him through his jeans and she wriggles closer. "Mars…"

"I promise not to hurt you." She grabs a fistful of his hair and jerks his head back. "Too much."

Lamb growls deep in his throat and fits his hand to the nape of her neck, pulling her closer. He opens his mouth to say something then shakes his head, his hand gentling as he brings her against him, fitting his mouth over hers.

His tongue snakes past her lips and slides into the heat of her mouth. A soft sound melts against his tongue and his free hand slips around her waist and down to the curve of her ass. He flips the short hem of her skirt higher and cups his hand over the thin scrap of fabric that's barely covering her. Veronica shifts closer, grinding down against him as he explores her mouth, tasting vodka and sugar and her.

He squeezes her ass and they both groan, sounds slipping out without consent. Veronica hitches higher on him, and she's moving over him. Heat burns through the denim as she rides him, stealing the kiss from him and sucking on his tongue. His hand slips down from her neck and finds her breast, rubbing his thumb over the nipple. She gasps and breaks the kiss, pulling back long enough to look at him with hazy eyes.

"I don't like you," she breathes.

"The feeling's mutual." He brings his hand off her ass around between them and finds her clit with his thumb. He barely touches it, the slightest pressure on the hard nub and she lets her head fall back, her hands scrabbling against his chest as she comes. His body jerks in response and he leans back into the seat, putting distance between them to keep himself from going over the edge with her. He's breathing hard and her nails are digging into his skin through his shirt and his fingers are wet from her orgasm.

Tears glisten in her wide eyes as she looks at him. "Oh."

"Let's get you home, Mars." His hands tremble slightly as he guides her off him. She holds onto the car door for support as he swings out of the car, crowding close to her as he stands. "Sit down before you fall down."

She licks her swollen lips and lets him help her into her seat. He closes the door after her and takes a deep breath, wondering briefly what it would cost to get a copy of the videotape spooling not 20 feet from the car. As he sinks into the driver's seat, he looks over at her. "You all right?"

She nods. "No."

"Am I going to have to worry about this?"

She turns to face him, eyes flashing defiantly. "No."

He turns the key and feels the car thrum beneath them. "It's a valid question given my knowledge of your sexual experience."

"You're an asshole."

"Yeah. And yet you still came to me for help. What's that say about you?"

"We're being followed." Sighing, Lamb taps his fingers against the steering wheel. "Apparently our show wasn't convincing enough."

"Pull in there."

"That's private property, Mars."

"I know." She turns just enough to put a hand on his shoulder, leans in. "It's the back road to the Kane's guest house. It'll establish you as wealthy enough to befriend the Kane's and it'll give us a place to hide out until they're satisfied."

"And the Kanes?"

"Well, Duncan's parents are hiding out in the mountains and Duncan's at the Neptune Grand."

"And you just happen to have a key?"

"Yeah. Lilly…" She looks away from his eyes in the rear-view mirror. "Lilly and I used to go there."

I know the perfect place, Lilly had whispered.

"Great." He pulls up in front of the house that's at least five times larger than his own, but less than half the size of the Kane's actual home. "Here we are."

She fishes into her purse and pulls a small ring of keys out, handing them to him. "Be careful with that. I wouldn't want you to lose the key to my diary."

"And here I was hoping you were offering me the key to your heart." He gets out of the car and walks around to her side, easing her door open. "Since Daddy probably has the key to your chastity belt."

"We're leaving him out of this, remember?" She laces her fingers through his as he leads the way to the house. "And once the doors are closed and they hurry on their merry way to find out where we are and who we're connected to, no one will be around to see me beat that into your skull if necessary."

"Too bad you're not quite scary enough to pull off those threats, Mars. Or are you going to call in your biker friends to do your dirty work?" He unlocks the door and holds it open for her. "Ladies first."

"Age before beauty."

He reaches over and pinches her hard on the ass, smiling as she lets out a sharp shriek. "Get inside, Mars."

"Bastard."

"Yeah. It's part of my charm." He follows her inside and closes the door, locking it behind them. "What do you think? A call to the big boss and a run on the license plate?"

"Rental, right?"

"Fake plate." He walks over to the bar and pours himself a drink, downing it quickly. "I borrowed one from the office."

"Wow. Isn't that a crime?"

"No more so than taking an underage girl into a strip club, plying her with drinks and then breaking into her dead best friend's house to hide from a bunch of crooks." He pulls another glass free. "You want something?"

"Club soda."

"Living dangerously, Mars."

"I think I've done enough of that tonight." She walks over and sits at the bar next to him.

"Is your dad going to worry?" He slides her glass in front of her. "Or will you just turn into a pumpkin at midnight?"

"He thinks I'm staying the night at Mac's house." She blows out a breath. "I think we should let it cool for a couple of days and wait until the weekend. More people coming and going and you'll have time to get a few thing established. I'll leave in the morning with my wig," she reaches up and pulls it off her head, rubbing her damp hair so that it tumbles around her face, "and then you can go get a rental car - BMW or Mercedes this time, I think, and hunt around for a nice, young, blonde girl."

"And where do you suggest I do that?"

"Don't worry, Sheriff. I'll find you." She sips her drink. "I'm going to go take a shower."

He watches her slide off the stool and head for the back of the house. He finishes his drink in a long swallow, noting absently how much smoother good booze is when it's really good booze and not just bad boozed marked up in price. He runs his hand over his lips, inhaling the subtle scent lingering on his fingertips. "What the fuck have I gotten myself into?"

He hears the water kick on in the distance and gets to his feet, bypassing the bathroom and the light spilling under the door as he works his way to the bedroom. He leaves the light off and undresses, sliding between the cool sheets. He turns on his side as his hand finds his cock and he puts himself to sleep with the sound of the shower, the stroke of his hand and the remembered feel of Veronica Mars.

He wakes up hot and sweaty and sticky, breathing heavily as he opens his eyes. The room is still dark, but he knows he's not alone. "What time is it?"

"Six." She's wearing a t-shirt she must have found somewhere and nothing else. "I'm going to be leaving soon. I thought it would probably be best if you at least saw me to the door."

"How are you getting home?"

"I'll take a cab. They're not interested in me, remember?" She swallows hard. "Look, about last night…"

"Let's save the post mortem for the end of it all, okay, Mars?" He sits up, his bare chest golden in the weak sunlight coming in through the blinds. "We've got plenty of time to do more stupid shit."

"I just…"

"You're a good girl. I know." He throws off the covers and moves to the edge of the bed, the sheet doing little to hide his erection. "Why don't you go get dressed and call the cab. I'm going to shower."

"You're not going to use it against me?"

He sighs. "Not until this is over." Getting up, he doesn't bother with the sheet as he heads to the connecting bath. "Besides, Mars, you weren't the only one in the car. And dragging you through the mud would take me down with you."

"Wow. You're almost like a gentleman. Or would be, if you weren't naked." She gets to her feet and heads for the door. With her hand on the knob, she stops. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me. It's not over yet."