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Getting in Character

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The appreciative whistle startles Veronica. She's been so focused on the image of herself in the mirror, dressed up in stripper couture, from the heavy makeup and feathered lingerie set down to the massive heels and garter belt, that she doesn’t hear anyone come in.

She turns to find Weevil in the doorway, a little playfully suggestive smirk on his face, and has to fight the urge to try and cover herself up in embarrassment.

"Trying out a new line of work, V?" He teases.

"Same old one. Just a little undercover work."

"And here I was, thinking it was never going to get better than those little schoolgirl get ups you used to use when you were playing a part in high school."

"So, I take it the look is convincing." She finds herself asking, insecurity slipping out.

Weevil takes the opportunity to look her up and down again, more overtly, "You've definitely got the look going. Can you play the part though, without decking some creep? Don't suppose you took pole dancing classes in college..."

That's exactly what Veronica has been contemplating for the last ten minutes. Maybe taking Stripperize classes instead of Krav Maga would have been useful after all.

"I guess there is only one way to find out." Veronica hears herself saying, without having meant to.

"And what is that?" He says with a cocked eyebrow, interest peaked.

"I'm going to have to need to practice. You don't mind being my test subject do you?"

Their old dynamic helps here. Years of light flirting and suggestion, without any intent on following through make it easy to try out her breathiest sex kitten voice on Eli Navarro.

"It's the only decent thing to do... for the safety of your cover." He agrees.

There's an awkward moment where she has to go grab a chair from the kitchen and Veronica seriously considers playing this idea off as a joke. Sure, it is one thing to flirt, to imagine, it is another to actually grind her mostly naked body against his... excuses or no.

"If you can't bring yourself to do this in the privacy of your own home, you probably need to come up with another plan."

Weevil's instinctive response to her inner hesitation makes up her mind for her. Veronica grabs him by his collar, intentionally taking a few deep breaths and exhaling purposefully so her pushed up cleavage heaves.

"Take a seat, Big Boy... unless you don't think you can handle me."

She doesn't have to ask him twice.

Walking towards him, Veronica focuses on the movement of her hips.

"Now..." She tells him, "You are going to have to pretend to be some sleazy strip club creep... so I can practice pretending they don't gross me out."

"Gentlemen's club patron." He counters, shifting his gaze from her face to the way she is moving her body. It is a little easier to play a character without the eye contact, so she only lowers her body down partially, leaving her chest at his eye level, keeping her own eyes fixed on the mirror reflection behind him.

She braces herself with her hands on his shoulders, letting her fingers rest on his neck, thumbs at his pulse point.

"You gonna strangle me, sweetheart." It's not Weevil's voice. He's playing his own character, slurring like a drunk.

"Maybe if you ask nicely enough." She tells him.

"Fiesty. I like that."

Veronica is surprised when he smacks her ass, even though she told him to be a problem customer.

"Tsk. Tsk. I get to touch you, not the other way around."

"Well then, you better get touching."

She lowers herself down, circles her hips, breathes in his ear. Veronica isn't actually that sure how this is supposed to go.

"Hey, V... I'm not going to call you a quitter if you decide this was a bad idea." The act is gone. Weevil's voice is gentle, like he read her mind.

"That bad?"

She stands up, turning away from him.

"Look... Veronica. You know you are hot. As long as you rub your body against them, the assholes in any strip club aren't going to care that you don't have some sophisticated approach. I know you though... I can tell you are uncomfortable."

"You know I like to be amazing at everything..."

"V. It's just like everything else, you are playing your opponent... just like it poker or interrogation or being a fucking lawyer. I am sure if you really wanted to, you could get the hang of it in like five seconds."

"So I just have to figure out, what it is that the client really wants..."


Veronica knows she should thank him for the advice and let the moment pass, go put on some real clothes, and get back to business.

Instead, she walks back over to where he is sitting and grabs his hand with her own.

"What about if you touched me with my own hand... "She whispers in his ear, "That way we aren't breaking any club rules."

"Sheesh! V..."

"It's Chariti... with an I." She interrupts, putting one finger of her free hand against his lips.

"Well then Chariti..." Weevil stares her straight in the eye and guides her hand over the swell of her breast and down her exposed abdomen. Veronica gasps, only partly as an act. She can't help but think about what it would be like for him to actually run his hands down her body. His movements are smooth, confident. She breathes in the scent of his cologne mixed with the leather of his jacket. Since he'd started wearing leather again she'd had a harder time not thinking these kind of thoughts.

"Oh! Mr. Navarro!" She opens her mouth to distract herself from that train of thought. She and Eli are friends and allies and even if both of them might feel like changing that arrangement it would be a bad idea, "You make me wish..."

"Let me take you away from all of this..." He replies, both of their hands intertwined as he guides them down her back to rest against her ass.

Veronica doesn't even realized she has ground her hips down against his until they make contact and she can feel him, hard against her.

They both stop short.

"This was a terrible idea." They agree in unison, dropping each other's hands and moving away from each other.

"I should go." Weevil mumbles, grabbing his keys.

"Let's just pretend..." She starts.

"That this didn't happen." He finishes.

And then he's gone. Veronica isn't sure whether to laugh or cry as she walks into the bedroom, head in hands.

Well that's one g-string ruined, she thinks, as she kicks off the soaked little triangle of fabric: evidence of what she doesn't want to face.

Unhooking the rest of her costume, Veronica contemplates a cold shower but finds her hands drifting across her skin instead.

"Fuck this." Veronica says out loud. It's been five years since she returned to Neptune. Logan is long since gone. Weevil is long since divorced. She has sex dreams about him at least twice a week. It is time to own up to the truth.

So she throws on some clothes (Fine, some cute underwear and the jeans that flatter what ass she has) and grabs her own keys.

Weevil looks a little dazed when he answers his door. He's shirtless, the story of his life engraved on the exposed flesh.

"V?" He sounds surprised.

"I want you."

"Since when?" He sounds skeptical.

"So long I am not sure anymore."

She starts to feel self conscious but then he's pressing her against the door, mouth devouring hers, hands holding her by the hips. Suddenly it seems impossible to believe that in all the years they have known each other, they've never done this before.

"But you are sure about this?" He asks, leaning back for a moment.

"Yes. Please tell me you are too."

He pulls her inside, closing the door and looks at her in a way that makes Veronica feel like she is about to catch on fire.

"Let me know, when I've made it clear to you that there's nothing I want more."

And then he's kissing her neck, hands sliding up under her tank top. Veronica raises her arms up to help him get her top off. He kneels down, starting just about the band of her jeans, and runs his tongue along her skin, kissing and sucking, hands working at the closure to her bra so that by the time he reaches her breasts they are exposed. She grabs him by his belt buckle, pulling his hips against hers and grinds against him, moaning as he finds her nipple, tongue circling as his hands continue to caress her ribcage.

She starts to fumble to unbuckle his belt and pants, impatient and eager.

"Maybe we should take a minute to go to the bedroom and give this the time it deserves."

Her response is to slide her hand up his hard cock.

"I think we have waited long enough." She hisses, guiding his hand down to her jeans with her free one.

He has to kneel down as he pulls those jeans down her legs kissing and caressing her thighs as he goes. She's got his boxers down around his knees now and she changes gears as she drags her own underwear off and kicks them away.

He makes to put his head between her thighs and Veronica has gotten herself off fantasizing about him doing that countless times but right now she just needs to feel his cock inside of her. Somehow, now that she's made the decision it seems impossible to slow down or wait.

"Stand up." She tells him. He seems confused and maybe hurt until she wraps her arms and legs around him and slides down onto him with a shudder of relief.

His hands on her ass and her back against the closed door give him the leverage to meet her thrusts as she rocks her body, the feel of his hard cock rubbing inside of her in all the right places.

She finishes hard, nails digging into his shoulders, muscles spasming around him, as she cries out. Her legs feel shaky as hell so it is probably a good thing that her climax apparently does it for him and he follows suit almost immediately.

He sets her back down and they both collapse on the tile.

"Better?" He asks, kissing her softly.

"Better." She agrees, "No more games."

"I don't know." Weevil replies, mischievous smile creeping across his face, "I've always had this fantasy in which you are a cop and I've been a very naughty man..."

"I'm pretty sure you just want to be handcuffed." Veronica teases.

"By you." He whispers against her neck, "Anytime."