Ficlet: Dinner (Cliff, Keith), PG
It's another "Veronica Mars" vignette. I've got the bug, no fooling.
Title: Dinner
Pairing/Character: Cliff, Keith, discussion of Logan/Veronic
Word Count: 793
Rating: PG
Summary: A visit with Keith is always a pleasure, especially since Marses have a better cable package than Cliff could ever hope for.
Spoilers: Episode 2.01 generally.
Notes/Warnings: This is a follow-up to Waiting. I think this stands on its own, it's just probably not as interesting.
When Cliff McCormack picks up his phone he sends off a brief prayer, as he always does, that it’s Carmen Electra or Publisher’s Clearinghouse on the line. He’d even settle for Anna-Nicole Smith. But instead, he gets Keith Mars, saying, “How do you feel about Italian?” in that too-cheerful way of his.
“You want my linguistic opinion?” Cliff asks, leaning back in his desk chair.
“I was thinking more . . . gustatory.”
“I’m not sure that’s formally condoned by the state of California, Keith . . .”
“I’ve got some piping-hot manicotti on the counter here, and I thought you might like a nice meal after a hard day at work.”
“Out of the kindness of your heart?” Cliff guesses.
“I ordered out,” Keith says with a chuckle, “thinking Veronica and I were having dinner together, but I forgot she had other plans tonight.”
“And so the truth comes out.”
“Take it or leave it, McCormack,” Keith says easily.
“I give,” Cliff says. “I’ll see you in a few.”
Cliff closes up his office and drives to the Mars home base where, sure enough, he can smell the food even before Keith opens the door.
“That was quick,” Keith says as he shuts the door after Cliff.
“Free food is a powerful motivator.”
“Careful, Cliff, or I’ll think you’re easy.”
“I’m even easier when I’m liquored up,” Cliff replies as he loads a plate up with food. “Got anything to drink?”
Keith opens the refrigerator and examines its contents. “Orange juice, water, beer, some weird-”
“Stop right there,” Cliff cuts in, “a beer’ll do.” Cliff accepts the beer Keith hands him and sits down in front of the television. A visit with Keith is always a pleasure, especially since Marses have a better cable package than Cliff could ever hope for.
He plays keep-away with Backup over his plate of food for a few minutes, until Keith sits down and distracts the dog with his own dinner. Then Keith begins vetoing program choices, saying, “There’s no way we’re watching ‘Medium.’ Or ‘Ghost Whisperer.’ What the hell is that even about?”
“Jennifer Love Hewitt,” Cliff replies. “That’s what that show is about.”
“Don’t you mean Miss Hewitt’s revealing blouses?”
“I say tomato, you say cleavage . . .”
Finally, Cliff settles on a good, old-fashioned episode of “Law and Order,” which even Keith can’t find fault with. They eat their dinners quietly as those stylish cops exhume the corpse of a hooker from a landfill in Queens.
When he’s had his fill of manicotti, Cliff sees fit to ask, “Where is that daughter of yours, anyway?”
“She’s on a date,” Keith tells him with a rueful smile.
“And who is the strapping young lad?”
“Logan Echolls.”
Cliff laughs, because it’s all you can do when a situation is this absurd. Logan Echolls has had more legal trouble than Martha Stewart, he’s blithely tampered with state evidence, and, as he recalls, the last time they met in a personal capacity, Keith Mars nearly bashed the kid’s head in for menacing Keith’s darling daughter. “You allowed this?”
Keith smiles, that wry little inscrutable smile of his that makes him such a good interrogator. It’s a look that makes you believe he knows something you don’t, something good, a look that makes meth-heads and arms dealers wet their pants. But this particular smile isn’t meant to twist Cliff’s proverbial arm. Keith’s smiling because he does know something, probably something about Logan Echolls, and it’s something that he will certainly never share with Cliff, although Cliff knows it has to be good because then Keith says, “Yeah, I guess I did,” before smoothly offering Cliff another beer.
Title: Dinner
Pairing/Character: Cliff, Keith, discussion of Logan/Veronic
Word Count: 793
Rating: PG
Summary: A visit with Keith is always a pleasure, especially since Marses have a better cable package than Cliff could ever hope for.
Spoilers: Episode 2.01 generally.
Notes/Warnings: This is a follow-up to Waiting. I think this stands on its own, it's just probably not as interesting.
When Cliff McCormack picks up his phone he sends off a brief prayer, as he always does, that it’s Carmen Electra or Publisher’s Clearinghouse on the line. He’d even settle for Anna-Nicole Smith. But instead, he gets Keith Mars, saying, “How do you feel about Italian?” in that too-cheerful way of his.
“You want my linguistic opinion?” Cliff asks, leaning back in his desk chair.
“I was thinking more . . . gustatory.”
“I’m not sure that’s formally condoned by the state of California, Keith . . .”
“I’ve got some piping-hot manicotti on the counter here, and I thought you might like a nice meal after a hard day at work.”
“Out of the kindness of your heart?” Cliff guesses.
“I ordered out,” Keith says with a chuckle, “thinking Veronica and I were having dinner together, but I forgot she had other plans tonight.”
“And so the truth comes out.”
“Take it or leave it, McCormack,” Keith says easily.
“I give,” Cliff says. “I’ll see you in a few.”
Cliff closes up his office and drives to the Mars home base where, sure enough, he can smell the food even before Keith opens the door.
“That was quick,” Keith says as he shuts the door after Cliff.
“Free food is a powerful motivator.”
“Careful, Cliff, or I’ll think you’re easy.”
“I’m even easier when I’m liquored up,” Cliff replies as he loads a plate up with food. “Got anything to drink?”
Keith opens the refrigerator and examines its contents. “Orange juice, water, beer, some weird-”
“Stop right there,” Cliff cuts in, “a beer’ll do.” Cliff accepts the beer Keith hands him and sits down in front of the television. A visit with Keith is always a pleasure, especially since Marses have a better cable package than Cliff could ever hope for.
He plays keep-away with Backup over his plate of food for a few minutes, until Keith sits down and distracts the dog with his own dinner. Then Keith begins vetoing program choices, saying, “There’s no way we’re watching ‘Medium.’ Or ‘Ghost Whisperer.’ What the hell is that even about?”
“Jennifer Love Hewitt,” Cliff replies. “That’s what that show is about.”
“Don’t you mean Miss Hewitt’s revealing blouses?”
“I say tomato, you say cleavage . . .”
Finally, Cliff settles on a good, old-fashioned episode of “Law and Order,” which even Keith can’t find fault with. They eat their dinners quietly as those stylish cops exhume the corpse of a hooker from a landfill in Queens.
When he’s had his fill of manicotti, Cliff sees fit to ask, “Where is that daughter of yours, anyway?”
“She’s on a date,” Keith tells him with a rueful smile.
“And who is the strapping young lad?”
“Logan Echolls.”
Cliff laughs, because it’s all you can do when a situation is this absurd. Logan Echolls has had more legal trouble than Martha Stewart, he’s blithely tampered with state evidence, and, as he recalls, the last time they met in a personal capacity, Keith Mars nearly bashed the kid’s head in for menacing Keith’s darling daughter. “You allowed this?”
Keith smiles, that wry little inscrutable smile of his that makes him such a good interrogator. It’s a look that makes you believe he knows something you don’t, something good, a look that makes meth-heads and arms dealers wet their pants. But this particular smile isn’t meant to twist Cliff’s proverbial arm. Keith’s smiling because he does know something, probably something about Logan Echolls, and it’s something that he will certainly never share with Cliff, although Cliff knows it has to be good because then Keith says, “Yeah, I guess I did,” before smoothly offering Cliff another beer.