"No." Mac crosses her arms over her chest and levels a dead-eyed stare at her best friend. "Not even if you paid me, which - let me remind you - you are not."

Veronica smiles sheepishly and bats her eyes like a cartoon bunny. "I could..."

"You heard the part about it not mattering, right?" Mac asks, scoffing so loudly she actually startles herself.

"He's not that bad," Veronica says, in the most convincing voice she could obviously muster. Which isn't very.

"Actually, Bond...he is. He is exactly that bad." Mac's eyes drift across the room to Dick Casablancas, who is fumbling with the hidden mic Veronica strapped to him only moments ago. "Why can't you be Dick's pretend girlfriend and I'll take the pictures?"

"Do you know how to operate a Leica M9-P?"

"I know how to operate the camera on my iPhone..." Mac holds her cell phone up for examination.

Veronica nose wrinkles at the offer. "Not exactly gonna cut it in low light. I'd actually like to get paid at the end of the day."

Mac slips her phone back in her pocket, resigned to her terrible fate. "You really need to get out more, make some more friends."

"He's not my friend," Veronica hisses.

"That's exactly my point." Mac's lips quirk into a self-satisfied smile. "Time for you to branch out."

Veronica blows a lock of hair out of her eyes and expels a noise that could roughly be associated with an Orc. "Yeah, I get it. My antisocial behavior is starting to affect my professional ability to snoop."

"I'm sure you could find several better quality friends to sponge off of if you tried a little harder."

"Noted." Veronica bobs her head in Mac's direction. "And thanks again for suffering through this."

Mac's face sours as she watches Dick deliberate over how many buttons to leave open on his Hawaiian shirt. "Were you in charge of wardrobe?"

"What do you want from me? Logan is laid up with a torn ligament and Wallace is finishing his little turbine engine thingamajigger. This was obviously my last resort." They are distracted by the sound of the mic hitting the floor. Veronica shakes her head in misery. "Obviously."

Both women sigh in unison.

"Dude! I'm like, ten feet away, Ronnie. Not nice!" Dick calls out. "Can somebody help me here? I feel like Gloria Estefan at the Miami Bowl. I'm not gonna be able to do the 'conga', if I can't get this bad boy to stay on any longa." He reaches for the mic on the ground, and the action ends up jerking the tape from where its secured on his lower back with an audible rip. "Fuck! Luckily I wax my ass, or that woulda hurt even more."

At that, Mac turns and shoots Veronica a death glare.

"Then you should probably stop touching it, Dick," Veronica tells him.

"That's what she s-"

"No." Mac cuts him off with a scowl as she crosses to his side of the room, heels clacking loudly in her wake. "Give me that."

She closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, and shoves her hand with the mic down the back of his tight pants.

"Not that I'm not digging the groping, but my Zegnas have buttons, you know."

"I don't want to be doing this any longer than I have to." She holds her breath and stretches her hand lower, forcing her breasts against his taut stomach in a not-entirely-unpleasant way. Her fingers graze the crest of his bare ass and she curses herself for finding it attractive.

If she didn't know him...if she saw him across a crowded room...if he pressed up against her from behind at a party, she would be all over that ass. But considering she saw him flash that same ass to a bunch of feminists only a few short years ago, she forces herself to look away.

He's not as bad as he once was, but Mac's memory is inconveniently long.

Finding a spot that will remain hidden under the band of his boxer briefs, she reattaches the bud with the tape that's already there.

"You've got some talented hands, Mackie," he says, and she can feel the vibrations of his voice through his torso tickle her chest.

"Shut up, Dick. We're supposed to be in love, and you make pretending really difficult for me when you...talk." She straightens herself up and brushes off a few imaginary lint pieces from the front of her dress.

"I can't talk?"

"My preference is that you would refrain."

Dick's face breaks out into a demonic smirk. "Your use of SAT words is giving me a half-chubbie. That, and when you rubbed your rack on my pubes."

"You're done." Mac slaps the tape on his ass hard for good measure and walks off.

"So, we're clear on the set-up, right?" Veronica asks, as she changes the lens on her overpriced camera.

Veronica had said at the time that she only accepted Logan's morbidly expensive birthday gift because it would be used to catch bad people in the act of doing something sneaky, rather than for her own personal enjoyment. Logan convinced her that it was her duty to take it, for the good of society.

Seeing as her friend's greatest personal enjoyment stems from ruining the lives of assholes, Mac had to concede that Logan was a mad genius at giving gifts.

So, when he assured Mac that Dick would be up to the task of replacing him in the honeytrap, she chose to trust in his wisdom.

If Logan is smart enough to trick Veronica Mars, surely his opinion means something. Right?

"Just to be clear, when you use the term 'honeytrap', you're not talking about any actual honey being involved, right?" Dick leans forward onto his spread knees and listens intently.

Mac covers her face with her hands and groans into them. He is probably going to get her killed, if this is what he's bringing to the table.

Out of the corner of her eye, she notices Dick wink at her.

He's joking?

Half of her is beyond relieved, and the other half is wondering when Dick developed the capacity to play her. Maybe she is the idiot of the operation?

"We don't have time for me to indulge your - and I'm using the term loosely - 'humor' right now, Dick," Veronica chided, without even looking up from her camera.

Oh my God, she is the idiot!

"I'm bringing honey anyway," Dick whispers at Mac, with a waggle of his eyebrows, "just in case."

Veronica clears her throat and pins him like a bug with a heavy glance.

Dick's shoulders slump and he leans back into his leather armchair. "I shake my ass a little at him and we invite him up to this room for a threesome. We strip down to our skivvies and you take a bunch of Dick pics from a crack in the closet, like the secret perv you are. Piece of cake."

Mac lifts a finger and almost can't get the word out. "Strip?"

"Being a total virgin, I know you don't get it, but you actually have to be naked in order for something to look like a 'compromising position'."

He is enjoying himself way too much.

Mac doesn't know which part of that sentence to address first. Oh wait. Yes she does. "You never said a word about me having to get naked, Veronica!"

Veronica is suddenly very occupied by cleaning her lenses. "I assumed that was implied?"

"No!" She squeaks, looking to Dick - of all people - for backup. "That was NOT implied!"

"What did you think the 'honey' in honeytrap meant, chica?" Dick's wide expression suggests he's enjoying this way too much. "Ya gotta make it sweet." He pushes his tumbler of whiskey across the table toward her and she immediately lifts it to her lips and drains the entire glass.

"Sweet," she repeats in monotone, cringing internally in disbelief as she places the glass on the table. "So what you're saying is that you expect me to take my clothes off with Dick? Dick Casablancas."

Veronica carefully places her camera on the coffee table in front of her. "You don't have to actually fool around with him. Just...you know, make it look convincing."

"Define 'convincing'."

"I know you've had a boyfriend before, Mac. Or a girlfriend?" Dick asks hopefully. "Uh-oh. You're not actually a virgin, are you? I didn't sign up for that."

Mac plucks an ice cube from her empty drink and pegs it at Dick's head, then turns to Veronica. "I take it back, I will accept money for this venture. A lot of money."

"In case I haven't already mentioned, your boobs look hot in that dress."

"You've mentioned, Dick. Several times." Mac stretches her legs out and crosses them at the ankle, in an effort to appear more alluring to the mark.

The crowd at the hotel lounge is beginning to pick up, making Mac feel slightly less conspicuous than she had when they first got there. Also, the louder the room, the less she would feel the need to chat with Dick to fill the silences.

"You look good though, Mac, and I mean that in a non-sleazy way. You were kinda rockin' that Juno look for the past forever years. This is better, shows off your...features more.

"Thank you?" She leans forward to reach for her drink, but the tightness of her dress prevents her from bending more than halfway to her goal.

Dick lifts her champagne flute from the table, but instead of simply handing it to her like a normal person, he brings it to her lips. "Take a sip."

"I wanted more than a sip."

"So, take more than a sip."

"Hand me the glass, Dick."

"I'm trying to be a gentleman here, Mac."

She looks at him with curiosity and then relents, taking a long sip from the tipped glass.

Who is this strange animal she sees before her and why is he suddenly so interested in being a gentleman?

Her forehead creases as she struggles to understand his motivation. "Are you trying to get in character or something?"

"Dude. Why do you always think the worst of me?"

"Uh...because you're the worst?"

Dick's face does something strange and he hands her the glass. "Bottoms up."

Great. Now she's the asshole.

Mac downs her drink in one go and clutches the glass to her chest.

"Can I buy you another round?"

She looks up cautiously at the man offering her a drink, who is leering without a care at the exposed skin of her legs.

He's of average height with a pleasant, if forgettable face. He's kind of nice-looking, if a bit slick. But no amount of attractiveness can make up for him wearing a brown, velour leisure suit that will heavily feature in her nightmares for the unforeseeable future. He has more hair and looks less corporeal than he did in the photos Veronica showed them earlier (apparently it's true what they say about the camera adding ten pounds), but he's definitely a match for their guy.

"I'd like that." Mac forces a smile and motions to the empty chair situated between Dick and herself. "I'm Chuck."

There is no way in hell she is telling this creep her real name.

"Chuck? That's cool, I like a girl who has a guy's name. Kind of like getting a little of each in one package. I'm Sammy," he says, simultaneously signaling to the bartender to refill their drinks while he slides into his chair like a well-oiled snake. "Man or woman, you...are gorgeous."

Dick pouts his lips enticingly and angles in. "I'm Dick."

Sammy's head whips around at the sound of Dick's voice, and a Cheshire grin spreads slowly across his face as he gives him the once over. "You certainly are."

Shifting in his chair, Dick spreads his thighs slightly and leans forward toward the mark, affecting his best Zoolander expression. Despite being rather blatant, Mac can't deny the effectiveness. Luckily, they're not really going for subtle.

"What brings you out tonight?" Dicks says, with a husky seduction.

"Oh, you know...just blowing off some steam." Sammy absent-mindedly fingers the skin around his barren ring finger. The tan line from his missing wedding band is visible from outer space. "You?"

"We like to party." The rumble of Dick's voice does something to Mac's insides that she hasn't felt since her first date.

Why is she so nervous when this isn't even real?

Sammy barely looks up from where his eyes have settled on the crotch of Dick's pants. "What a coincidence. I also like to party."

Mac practically strains with the effort to keep from rolling her eyes.

Dick inches to the edge of his seat and places his hand on the arm of Sammy's chair. "It's getting kinda crowded in here though. Chuck gets hot real easily in a packed room."

"I do." She twists her hair around one hand and piles it on top of her head, then runs a fingertip down the neckline of her dress, which is slick with genuine sweat.

From behind Sammy's back, Dick winks at Mac, and her stomach clenches like a fist.

Mac always wondered how Dick was able to get so much play when he came off like a major tool every time he spoke. The skill and speed in which he was able to pick up a lay, was a little disconcerting. Men...women...it seemed like nobody was immune to his charms. And he was barely even trying!

Sammy brushes his arm up against Dick's. "You're not leaving so soon, are you? You just got here."

"We've got a room upstairs. Thought we might take the party up there," Dick says, with a nonchalant shrug. "You game?"

Sammy waggles his eyebrows as his thumb strays onto Dick's hand to stroke his little finger. "Yahtzee."

Both vomiting and suicide seem like better options than going through with what is about to happen, but Mac prides herself on never letting her friends down. So despite everything that is screaming for her to fake a headache and run, she decides to take her clothes off instead.

"Let's get this party started!" Sammy crows as he lets his trousers drop to his ankles with flair.

Mac loudly inhales and holds it. Fear claws wildly at her chest, as a few beads of sweat settle around her hairline. She's already heading into flop sweat territory and nobody's even done anything yet.

Intellectually, she knows Dick can take this guy in a fight if need be, but the idea of having to rely on him to protect her virtue seems like an exercise in insanity. Virtue and Dick Casablancas go together like oil and water.

Despite her misgivings, she feels the unmistakable traction of Dick's hand grasping for hers. He threads their fingers together in an act of solidarity.

Well, this certainly is surprising. Leave it to Dick to be the only gentleman at an orgy.

Every time she thinks she has him pegged, he shocks her by doing something uncharacteristic, like begging for her forgiveness or exhibiting actual remorse for something he's done. And now, this consummate playboy has proven himself to be the least predatory male in the room. Weird.

Irony is currently laughing its ass off at her.

"How do you want to do this?" Dick asks, giving her fingers a reassuring squeeze.

Sammy takes a lazy tour of their bodies with his hungry eyes and coos. "You could start by taking your clothes off."

Dick nods and kicks his pants off, then uses his free hand to casually unbutton his shirt, like they weren't standing in front of a philandering pervert who wanted to bang them both at the same time.

Shameless. Though to be fair, he has nothing to be ashamed about with that body.

"Slower..." Sammy purrs.

Mac squeezes Dick's hand back. He's her partner in crime, so she feels obligated to lend him some measure of moral support.

As soon as Dick's shirt finds itself in a heap on the low pile carpet, all eyes in the room turn to Mac.

She jumps at the realization that it's her turn to disrobe and reaches clumsily for the zipper on the back of her dress, failing to catch it.

"Allow me." Dick releases her grip and brushes her hair to the side with one hand, while lowering her zipper with the other.

"Yeah. That's what I'm talking about!" Sammy's gaze is heavy with lust.

Mac shudders as the back of Dick's hand grazes the length of her spine, then the straps of her dress fall to the sides, revealing the black lace bra beneath.

From behind, Dick leans in and drops a kiss on the back of her neck, taking the opportunity to whisper into her hair. "Don't worry. I've got this."

The heat from his breath spreads across her skin like wildfire and she closes her eyes.

He tugs at the edge of her hem and she shimmies completely out of her dress.

"Mmm yeah..." Sammy has now kicked off his boxers and has his semi-erect cock in his hand. "Keep going. I like to watch."

Now both in just their undergarments, Dick pulls Mac against his chest until her back is entirely flush with his the front of his body. One hand drifts up the valley between her breasts and the other wraps tightly around her waist to hold her in place.

Mac nearly bites her own tongue off at the sensation.

Dick mouths his way up the column of her neck and she releases a breathy moan.

They have to make it look real, right?

So this is what all the fuss is about? She always assumed he had to be talented in the bedroom in order for women to overlook his glaring personality flaws. Theory proven.

"Your body is hella hot, Mackie," he whispers, "you'd never be able to tell under all those dumpy clothes you wear."

She's fairly sure there is a compliment somewhere hidden in there.

His thumb brushes against her nipple, and though she knows this is all for show, she lets herself enjoy it. If she's going to have to endure this, she may as well get something out of it.

Sammy gasps at the performance in front of him. "I want you to touch Chuck's pussy, now."

Veronica never mentioned this kind of touching.

She can feel Dick's body tense behind her at the order. His fingers remain in the safe zone, despite Sammy's urging.

How long does it take to get compromising photos anyway? She wonders if Veronica needs to get a shot of them touching Sammy in order for the client to be satisfied. The thought of it makes her skin crawl.

Dick lowers his mouth to her earlobe and sucks it in. "What do you want me to do?" he murmurs, only just loud enough for her to hear.

What does she want? That's a good question. The only thing she knows she wants for sure is for Sammy to tuck his schlong back into his pants and exit stage left.

Her head falls back and she licks the ridge of his ear. "Turn me around."

Dick flips her around and presses his knee between her thighs, a little harder than a fake-out make-out would require. She bites back a meep and wraps her arms around his neck for support.

"What are you doing?"

A smirk tugs at his lips. "You're supposed to be the smart one." He pulls her close and brushes his lips against her cheekbone. "Just go with it."

His hand ghosts the front of her panties and she keens at his touch, immediately cursing herself for her weakness. It's been a while since she's gotten any.

Mac knows she doesn't appeal to every guy's taste, but most of them don't impress her much either. She'd always included Dick in this group...until the moment arrived when they had to get naked and she realized she was actually looking forward to seeing what was behind the thick material of his jeans.

"Under the clothes." Sammy is panting hard now as he strokes his cock to life.

Mac's eyes widen and connect with Dick's. He shoots her a reassuring look to let her know the call is hers.

What the hell is she doing? She doesn't really want to know the answer.

Despite her better judgement, Mac responds with a sharp nod and takes a deep breath to brace for whatever's about to happen next (she knows what's about to happen next).

Dick's fingertips edge under the elastic of her underwear and press through the wetness, sliding gently into the heat. She's embarrassingly turned on, and now she's not the only one who knows.

"Damn," Dick swears under his breath as his fingers prod her core.

Mac bites his shoulder and buries her face in the crook of his neck.

Sammy groans in tandem with Mac and the sound of flesh being manipulated gets louder and louder on both ends of the room. "Get her off. Do it! I wanna hear her come."

"Why don't you come closer?" Dick suggests, garbling the last syllable as Mac grabs the back of his ass and squeezes hard. "Better view."

Mac's cheeks burn with embarrassment. She had almost forgotten why they were there in the first place. She should be glad that one of them was still thinking with their brain, but the fact that it's Dick inexplicably pisses her off.

"Yeah? How much closer?" Sammy stands in place, dick still in his hand, and eyes the two of them like he was making the kind of choice that could change the course of history.

Sammy's hand cups the back of Mac's ass and she winces.

Dick shoots him a warning look. "That's close enough. Chuck has a hard time...uh...coming, when she's being double-teamed."

Mac's mouth drops open in horrified protest, and Dick responds by pushing his thick fingers deeper into her.

"Fuck!"

"Fuck," Dick echoes, almost reverently, and picks up the pace.

They are all on finally their marks, right in front of the gap in the closet where Veronica is no doubt fervently snapping away with her Leica. It shouldn't be long now until the cavalry arrives, in the form of Logan's phone call posing as Chuck's angry husband.

Dick's fingers flick in and out of her in time with his breathing, and through her peripheral vision she can see his chest heaving along with them. The hot, hard length of him is peeking out of the top of his waistband, weeping against her skin as he rocks it against her stomach.

Mac can feel her orgasm building, and tries to put the reality of the situation out of her head. The whole thing is absurd, but the die is pretty much cast at this point, so she may as well close her eyes and go for the ride. It's not in her personality to let go like this, but maybe it's in Chuck's personality? She decides conveniently that it is.

"Oh my God. Right there!" she screams, and clenches around Dick's fingers while she sinks her teeth into the meaty part of his left pec and comes harder than she ever has in her life. "Shit!"

She can hear Sammy coming right on the heels of her orgasm and folds herself closer into Dick's embrace.

Just then, the phone rings out like the wail of an ambulance, and Mac rolls her head back and exhales with relief.

"Are you guys expecting somebody?" Sammy asks, nervously shifting on his feet as he tucks himself back into his underwear.

"Oh no. I think that night be my husband," Mac says, not even bothering to try to sound convincing.

His face loses color. "You're married?"

Mac shrugs. "Yeah. Why? Are you opposed to fucking around with married chicks?"

"He might be if he sees how big your husband is," Dick chimes in, barely concealing his grin. "Should we let him get the phone?"

"He's bigger than you?" Sammy dashes for his discarded trousers and steps into them like somebody just pulled the fire alarm. "No. No way. It was fun while it lasted, kids, but I don't need trouble like that. I'm out."

"No. Wait. Come back." Mac yells weakly as the door shuts behind him with a bang.

"Up here, Mackenzie." Dick holds his hand up for a high-five.

She wrinkles her nose at it, and he quickly switches hands.

"We totally rocked that, right?"

She leaps up to slap his hand and as soon as their palms make contact, the closet door pushes open with a long, ear-splitting creak.

"I'm coming out now," Veronica says, head down with both hands aloft like a criminal giving herself up.

Oh, she may not be a criminal, but she IS guilty of something.

"I'm not looking," Veronica informs them benevolently, as if she hadn't just photographed Dick getting her off. "Believe me. I've seen enough tonight to put me in therapy for a very, very, very long time."

Dick gives her the side eye then throws his head to the side to push his hair out of his eyes. "Who knew you were the frigid one?"

Veronica hesitantly raises her gaze, filled with earnest contrition, to meet Mac's and swallows loudly. "I, uh...really did not expect the events of the evening to progress as far as they did. At all."

"You— you didn't?" Mac leans over and collects her dress from the floor, then holds it to the front of her body for modesty.

Modesty? Ha.

"Photographing the mark standing next to you, with you all in your underwear would have sufficed." She began to fiddle with her camera strap.

"Good to know that now." Mac crosses her arms over her chest and glares at her best friend.

"I'm just gonna...I'm going to go call Logan...in the hallway. Give you two some privacy to get dressed." She ducks her head and nearly sprints for the door.

"Sure! Thanks for the privacy, Bond!" Mac picks up one of her shoes and pegs it at the door a second too late, just missing Veronica's shoulder. "She's so dead."

"Your reflexes suck."

"I'll try not to lose any sleep over that while I prepare to graduate maga cum laude." Mac angrily kicks the door shut and double locks it, then turns to Dick. It's at that moment she notices his still raging erection.

He follows her eyes to his cock and shrugs. "You're still in your underwear, Mac, and my hand isn't even dry."

"Indeed." Mac stares at the hand that he just used to pleasure her with and forces back a smile. "You look pretty uncomfortable."

Dick eyes her cautiously. "I was gonna take care of it myself after you left the room, but I could be convinced to do it now...if you'd like to watch."

She can almost hear Sammy's voice reverberating in her head as she approaches him slowly and places her hands on the sides of his hips. "I don't want to watch, Dick."

He lifts an eyebrow in challenge and licks his lips. "What do you want, Cindy Mackenzie?"

Mac rolls onto her toes and presses her mouth to his, then parts her lips slightly and deepens the kiss. The soft velvet of his tongue sliding against hers makes her palms sweat and she grapples for his ass.

"How long do we have the room for?" Dick asks, between kisses.

"As long as it takes," she says, and pulls back for a moment to look at him. "Somehow, I don't think Veronica is coming back here anytime soon."

Dick lifts her legs up around his waist and carries her to the bed. "Good."

A/N- special thanks to mysilverlining for her amazing beta skills.

This work is a part of the Veronica Mars fan fiction blast on Tumblr in honor of the movie coming out. This week is 'Mac Week', which is why this exists now :)

Stop by and say hi on Tumblr: Happily Shanghaied

If you have the time, I'd love to hear what you think in the comments section!