Veronica Mars

"Jones!" Veronica gasps in mock horror. "Are you ashamed of me?

"I promise not to embarrass you when I inevitably track her down."

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"I'll believe that when I see it," he chuckles.

"I'm not ashamed as much as afraid. You can be very... thorough, when you're investigating stuff."

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"It's all part of my charm!"

She pauses before the next serve, and cocks her head to the side.

"Or maybe that's why I'm still single."

A shrug, and she returns to the game.

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"When was the last time you dated someone?" Indy inquires.

It comes across as a conversational follow up, not pointed in any way.

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The brief tension in her shoulders is barely noticeable, and when she replies it's in the same casual tone.

"Been a couple years.

"So what about the job? Reclaimed anything priceless or shiny recently?"

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Indy takes the subject dismissal in his stride. The sensitive topic has been noted though.

"Nope. Not since the Hovitos idol," he admits.

"I told you how it got stolen right out from under my nose after we recovered it, right?"

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"I don't think so."

Game point, and that match is over. The crowd goes wild and Veronica grins in triumph.

Turning to Indy, "Why don't you tell me about it while I beat you?"

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Indy readies himself to play, without actually removing himself from the couch.

"I'm sure I told you. I guess it was before the time slip. And possibly when you were possessed?"

He shakes his head. "It got stolen from the opening night gala. I had to go to Brazil to get it back, and I needed some help from Meg and Ace. Explosive in the latter case. Ring any bells?"

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"Oh. Yeah, a little."

On screen, Mii!Veronica swings her racket experimentally and looks tough.

"I'm sure you have difficulty remembering things from seven years ago when you were possessed, too."

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There's a brief knock on the door and Fiona slips through the door, casual as ever in her favourite torn jeans and a white wife beater.

"Doctor Jones," she singsongs, pushing her shades up on top of her head. "Delivery for you, one hot oh hello." She comes up short as she sees Veronica, no small amount of surprise on her face. "Am I interrupting?"

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At the precise moment of her entry, Veronica lasers her first serve towards Indy's players in the back court. Attention elsewhere now, he flounders with the Wiimote and completely misses the ball.

"Ah... crap."

To Fiona: "Not at all. Hi there. Come on in."

During a round of hearty cheering from the crowd, unhappy little storm clouds appear over his players, while Veronica's have cheerful musical notes dancing over their heads.

"Don't get cocky," he asides to Veronica. "That was a lucky shot."

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Well. This girl is certainly a looker. And if the accent -- the one that abruptly vanished once Veronica was spottted -- is any indication, she's Irish too.

Red flag? Meet bull.

Veronica smirks at Indy. "I make my own luck."

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Fiona looks back and forth between the two of them, the television and the beer bottles on the table. Her gaze slides back to the cute, petite blond and her chin rises a bit.

Well then.

"Hi."

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Indy works quickly to try and avoid any awkwardness. Smiling, he ambles over to Fi and presses a kiss to her cheek.

"Fi, this is Veronica. Long time Milliways friend."

"Vee, if you hadn't guessed, this is Fiona."

"I was just telling her about you," he says to Fi. He concludes with a heart-melting wink. "All good, I promise."

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Aaand the match is called on account of gettin'-smoochy-with-the-ladyfriend time. Veronica silently declares herself the winner, then offers the newcomer a wave.

"Nice to meet you."

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She hums a little at Indy's kiss, but she still has an air of electricity about her.

"You too. I'd say call me Fi, but with both Vee and Fi, I guess Fiona'll do for now." She looks up at Indy with a bit of fire in her eyes. "Don't want to confuse him too much, do we?"

She plucks an invisible ticket from his shirt front, eyeing it for a moment before tucking it in her pocket with a wink.

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"Stop that," Indy snorts, extracting the make-believe ticket and ripping it up. "Vee's never been interested in me in that way."

"She just appreciates my scintillating conversation, my stories, my booze..."

He gives Veronica a quizzical look.

"...and some other stuff?"

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"The whip," Veronica replies promptly. "Don't forget the whip."

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That gets a bit of a laugh. "I've never even seen the whip," she drawls. She playfully shoulders Indy out of her way and holds her hand out to Veronica.

"Fiona Glenanne. Call me Fi."

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"Oh, it's a nice one."

Veronica accepts the handshake, grasping firmly.

"Veronica Mars. Call me whatever you like as long as it isn't 'Ronnie'."

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Indy moseys over to the fridge while the formal introductions are taking place, and gets a beer for Fiona. He proffers it when the handshake is completed.

"It's true. She has a weird obsession with my whip."

"That's the main reason I keep it out of sight these days."

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Fi takes the beer, looking up at him. "What girl wouldn't," she teases. "I mean, they've made movies about it."

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"Exactly!" Veronica exclaims in delighted surprise. "See, she gets it."

She shakes her head, and confides in Fiona, "He thinks I'm crazy."

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"He just doesn't understand. A man can't just put something like that out there and not expect us to ask after it, now, can he?" She's smirking at him now in a way that would make Michael check for his wallet and car keys.

"Come on, Indy. You can trust us."

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