watching_you | OOM: Room 130

Entry tags:

indiana jones,
oom

OOM: Room 130

Veronica stands in the centre of her apartment, examining her surroundings critically.

The whole thing could never have been helped, she supposes. On one hand the entire place has been decorated with all of the style and flair of a very confident eighteen-year-old college freshman; on the other hand the place has been decorated with all of the style and flair of a very confident eighteen-year-old college freshman. There are posters on the walls for God's sake. Veronica is wincing.

It doesn't help that the whole room looks very, well, seven years ago. The carpet and the drapes and the couch with those little wooden legs... Something must be done. And Special Agent Veronica Mars, FBI, is just the one to do it.

Well, maybe she can supervise.

Those couches aren't light.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"I suppose."

Indy can't help but snicker, even though he knows it's not going sit very well with Veronica. Her description is funny! He bites back his first response of "what cleavage?" and goes with something that's hopefully less offensive.

"If you think that was wrong, you should see what she does with a helping of cream."

Oh look, the lasers are back.

"Explain."

Ah crap. Just when Indy thought he was in the clear. He shifts himself up on the couch a little, putting some crucial extra inches between them.

"Um. She likes it," he offers.

Dishonesty is not an option anymore. But vagueness still is.

"Likes playing with it. In a kinda teasing way."

He gives Veronica an apologetic look, suspecting that it won't be the last one he sends her before they're done here.

Her reply comes very slowly.

"Indiana Jones. Did you. Play. With whipped cream. With my doppleganger."

She awaits his answer very, very patiently.

"Woah! Absolutely not," Indy insists.

Poor choice of wording Veronica.

"I just watched her play with it."

"Ah," she says, in a tone that Indy might be foolish enough to interpret as 'understanding', "So it was purely hands-off."

A half-second pause.

"In other words, voyeurism."

Indy isn't sure he likes that description. But to refute it would be to dig himself an even deeper hole.

"I... guess. Not entirely my fault though. She kinda hypnotized me with her alluring acts. I was helpless to resist."

Speaking of helpless, he looks that way right now.

"Maybe she's got powers beyond her lightning thing," he hazards, "and she put a spell on me?"

Veronica snorts. "Oh, yes. Hypnotism. Of all possible answers that's the most likely. It has nothing at all to do with the fact that I'm sure she was all..."

She lifts a hand and tousles her hair, letting it fall in front of her eyes, then turns the movement into a long, languid stretch that arches her back. "Oh... Indy," she moans huskily, "It's so... hot in here," one finger running across her face, lips, to her jawbone and along it, tracing the line of her neck - down to the top button of her shirt, which she opens, and then the next. "Maybe it's just me, but I've been feeling really... hot recently..." She stretches again as she turns towards him, letting her hand run along his leg, starting at the ankle, then calf, then knee, then thigh - meanwhile she gets to a crouch, the other hand balancing her drink.

In a smooth movement she's got him pinned: one foot on the floor but the other knee over him, at his side; her free hand presses against his chest, keeping him down. She leans forwards, bringing her face so close to his that it seems she's about to kiss him, but at the last moment she diverts, moving to breathe into his ear, nuzzling his jawline as she does. "What about you, Doctor Jones? Are you..." a pause, and a breathy sigh: "...hot?"

Then suddenly she pushes back, the spell broken, looking smug. "Superpowers my ass."

The spell may be broken in Veronica's opinion, but Indy is still staring at her. Staring hard, with a mixture of enthrallment and disbelief.

He swallows. And tries to compose himself.

"That... er... wasn't exactly how she was."

"I don't think. It's kinda hard to remember. Can you go through it again to see if it jogs my memory at all?"

Veronica just shakes her head as she swings her leg back down to the floor.

"Why don't you ask Elle to, next time you see her? I'm sure she'd be more than willing."

She goes to sip her drink, only to find it empty, and so moves to pour another. The Jack, of course, is the best explanation for why her face feels hot. Natch.

Elle is the furthest thing from Indy's mind right now. He deflates and un-tenses somewhat when Veronica returns to the floor. And directs a wounded gaze at her—not quite puppy eyes or pouting, but close.

"Vee. That was really mean."

"No-one deserves that level of intensity in a fake seduction. I mean, there's method acting, and then there's pure torture."

Veronica is unapologetic.

"I'm not sorry," she tells him. (See?) "If you're going to be making kissyfaces at my clone, you should know what you're getting into."

Thus the world's worst defense was launched.

Indy frowns at her.

"I doubt Elle is quite as lusty and wanton as that."

He lets out a forlorn sigh.

"Which is a crying shame when it comes down to it. 'Cause that was amazing."

"Indy! Focus!" she snaps, moving as she speaks to the far side of the coffee table, and slouching into the recliner there.

"The point is that Elle is evil."

Sexy, sexy evil.

"She's not evil," Indy objects, perhaps unwisely. He wouldn't protest the sexiness claim though.

"She's just amoral. And works for an unethical company."

"Don't worry, Vee. You're the original girl who looks like you. You're always gonna be my Number One."

"A company? What the hell kind of company? And why do I get the feeling that it isn't going to have a name, it's just going to be one of those Big C Companies that you know is all about the secret underground labs and clandestine tests upon the unknowing populace?"

Indy lifts his eyebrows, impressed by the accuracy of Veronica's assumptions.

"Er... yep. That just about covers it."

"Are you kidding me?"

She falls silent for a moment, looking stunned.

"I can't believe it. It's actually true. She's me. She's evil me from another universe. Mirror Veronica. All she needs is a little pointy beard."

Indy lets out another ill-advised chuckle.

"I think you're over-reacting just a smidgen."

"Says the man from the time before identity theft was a widespread crime with jail time attached to it," Veronica replies sullenly.

Indy wrinkles his nose.

"Fair point. But I really don't think she's that interested in you."

"And if it's any consolation, I think you could take her," he adds.

He may sound sincere, but that was a big fat lie.

"Well I know that."

Nevertheless: not very cheered. Undoubtedly this will improve as Veronica plots doom towards her clearly evil counterpart; as Indy doesn't seem to much care, however, these plans will take place within the safety of her own dazzling mind.

"I figured you did."

Indy might have snorted under normal circumstances. But he fears for his life in this one, so he just settles back with his drink and looks agreeable. Meanwhile, his dazzling mind starts a victory dance to celebrate the fact that he seems to be off the hook for his lurid interactions with Elle.

After a minute or so, the silence starts to get a little unnerving. He squints at her suspiciously.

"Are you plotting?"

"No."

Pause.

"Yes."

Indy nods acceptingly.

"Against me?" he then inquires.

"Or her?"

OOM: Room 130

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)