For wsm21. I promised a one-shot to the 50th commenter on my Glee Fanfic Limelight. Wsm21 requested a Veronica Mars WeeVer piece, and I'm happy to oblige, only...I realized a one-shot isn't enough. I need a few chapters to explore a cool couple I hadn't given much thought to before. Enjoy!

Veronica strode into the tattoo parlor and looked around. It was a cool spot, with a polished concrete floor, white walls, and large, artful prints of bodies embellished with breathtaking tattoos hung on the walls. It looked more like an art gallery than the dingy parlors where Eli and the PCHers used to get their ink. The receptionist at the front desk looked at Veronica warily. "Can I help you?"

"Yes, I'm looking for…" Weevil? Eli? Mr. Navarro? Which would put the woman at ease? "Weevil. Tell him it's…"

"V! What brings you to my fine establishment?" Eli called, strolling out of his office. He wore expensive jeans and an untucked blue button-down shirt, and looked like he was in better physical shape than ever. "Tramp stamp or butterfly to the ankle? Chinese character for strength? No, let me guess, 'I need a favor,'" he said, imitating her voice.

"You know me so well," Veronica replied sarcastically, though the affection on her face was sincere.

"Let's go to my office. Can't have the whole place reeking of Fed," he whispered, leading the way.

"I don't reek of Fed!" she angrily whispered back.

He looked her up and down. Veronica's hair was in a low ponytail. She wore a suit and pumps just sturdy enough to run in if necessary. He detected the slight bulge of a gun holster under the suit jacket. More than one of his tattoo artists raised an eyebrow, and a few guys in the chairs looked uneasy. Once Weevil and Veronica were in his office with the door closed, he pointed at her service weapon.

"You might as well wear it on the outside, strapped to your thigh, old-west style."

She looked tempted for a second, but shook her head. "I don't think my supervisor would go for that."

"So, why are you here, other than to scare off my clientele?"

"I've been assigned to the National Center for the Analysis of Violent Crime in the San Diego office, so I'm back in the area for the foreseeable future. We investigate things like murders, serial rapes, kidnapping…"

"Sounds right up your alley."

"The thing is, we also investigate things like extortion, threats and corruption. So I know when we talk on the phone, I say, 'Staying out of trouble, Weevil?' and you say, 'You know it, V.' But now I need to know if you meant it."

"I meant it, V. I know you've heard shit like that from me before, but it's true. I've got this place and the auto body shop. Maybe my start-up capital wasn't straight up, but that was a long time ago. When I slipped that ID-machine back to Hearst, that was the end of it."

"Okay, because it would really suck if I ever had to arrest you, or if we couldn't be friends. Which leads me to my next point: Background checks."

"Been there, done that, V. They showed up at my door asking questions about you when you got that first internship, and again when you signed up for real. I could have used a heads-up, by the way. Guys with badges can make an ex-con nervous."

"I knew they'd interview my family, teachers and employers, even my ex-boyfriends, but I didn't know they'd track you down. Turns out the FBI is thorough. Who knew?"

Weevil just raised an eyebrow at her.

"Well, because of my clearance level, they have to periodically look into my known associates," she continued.

"So you're seriously planning on 'associating' with me?"

"Hell yeah, vato! Gotta keep up my street cred."

"I told you, V, I turned in my street cred. Now I'm an entrepreneur."

She laughed. "Well what good are you to me now?"

They agreed to meet for dinner that night, and Eli walked her to the door. Veronica hugged him close, which was unusual, but she had really missed him while she was away. He cocked an eyebrow at her, smirked, then bent her back into a kiss. For a second, she was shocked, but he smelled amazing, and his arms were so strong around her. The kiss deepened, and Eli was turning her always-sharp brain to mush. When they finally broke apart, to the whistles and catcalling of the tattoo artists, Veronica punched him in the arm. "What the hell, Weevil?"

"Ouch! My girl gets rough," Weevil called out for the benefit of his audience. Then he looked back at Veronica and replied softly, smirking again, "I still have a reputation to maintain. How else am I supposed to explain a Fed coming and going all the time?"

She actually looked disappointed for a split second before an evil grin crossed her face. "Of course, Snookums!" she exclaimed, causing all the men in the room to burst into laughter as she sauntered out the door.

"Snookums?" Marco mocked.

"She's a hot woman with a gun." Weevil replied. "It's not worth fighting over names, as long as she keeps calling out mine all night long."

Weevil was struck with a sudden fantasy of Veronica calling out his name: first Weevil, then Eli. He tried to shake it off, not knowing that Veronica was doing the same thing as she got into her car and drove away.