Veronica flipped through the list. The prospects were not promising. Read to the elderly, help out in kindergarten, ugh, all of these had set hours that seriously conflicted with her real job. She'd tried to argue that technically working as a PI could be considered a service to the community, but Clemmons had raised an eyebrow at her and handed her the form.
Fine. Habitat for Humanity it was; at least with them you could come in outrageously early and also do a bunch of hours at once, six hours on a building site or whatever. That was easier to schedule around, and she imagined it might be easier to sneak away from there.
--
Her first day on site was a Wednesday, and it was so early she wasn't even sure what time it was. She'd been over at the Camelot last night, getting pictures for what looked like an open-and-shut adultery case, and she'd gotten back late. Normally that wouldn't be a problem, but when one had to lug around tools and planks and not hit oneself in the head before school had even started, then it could get tricky.
She shifted her grip on the hammer again and tried to focus. She should have had more coffee.
A tap on her shoulder made her yelp and she dropped the hammer, miraculously avoiding dropping it on her toes through a – must have been a random gust of wind – that made it fall just a little to the left of her feet.
"Hey, Mars," said Connor.
She glared at him. He looked obnoxiously awake; must be those farmer genes. "You know, in Neptune it's considered really rude to make sudden noises near people in the morning."
"Don't disturb the wild Mars out of her natural habitat, huh," he said, grinning.
"Yes." She thought about what he'd said for a second. "Wait, what is my natural habitat?"
"Not a construction site, anyway. You get volunteered, too?"
"We all did. That is, anyone with parents who don't own NGO's or can wrangle their lovely child a summer internship somewhere prestigious and charitable."
Connor snorted. "Neptune is—"
"Seriously predictable?"
"Uh-huh. Anyway, mostly I came over to see if you wanted help with that."
"With hammering?" She put as much sarcasm as she could into her voice, which was a lot of sarcasm indeed, but Connor didn't seem to notice.
"You were kinda squinting, there. I was worried you'd hit your own hand or something."
"Despite that vote of confidence I am in fact capable of finishing this on my own." Ooops, that was snappish rather than sarcastic.
"And also I was bored." He smiled at her, which was very disarming, dammit.
"Fine. You can stand over there and hand me nails."
Veronica Mars/DC gen, 1/2
Fine. Habitat for Humanity it was; at least with them you could come in outrageously early and also do a bunch of hours at once, six hours on a building site or whatever. That was easier to schedule around, and she imagined it might be easier to sneak away from there.
--
Her first day on site was a Wednesday, and it was so early she wasn't even sure what time it was. She'd been over at the Camelot last night, getting pictures for what looked like an open-and-shut adultery case, and she'd gotten back late. Normally that wouldn't be a problem, but when one had to lug around tools and planks and not hit oneself in the head before school had even started, then it could get tricky.
She shifted her grip on the hammer again and tried to focus. She should have had more coffee.
A tap on her shoulder made her yelp and she dropped the hammer, miraculously avoiding dropping it on her toes through a – must have been a random gust of wind – that made it fall just a little to the left of her feet.
"Hey, Mars," said Connor.
She glared at him. He looked obnoxiously awake; must be those farmer genes. "You know, in Neptune it's considered really rude to make sudden noises near people in the morning."
"Don't disturb the wild Mars out of her natural habitat, huh," he said, grinning.
"Yes." She thought about what he'd said for a second. "Wait, what is my natural habitat?"
"Not a construction site, anyway. You get volunteered, too?"
"We all did. That is, anyone with parents who don't own NGO's or can wrangle their lovely child a summer internship somewhere prestigious and charitable."
Connor snorted. "Neptune is—"
"Seriously predictable?"
"Uh-huh. Anyway, mostly I came over to see if you wanted help with that."
"With hammering?" She put as much sarcasm as she could into her voice, which was a lot of sarcasm indeed, but Connor didn't seem to notice.
"You were kinda squinting, there. I was worried you'd hit your own hand or something."
"Despite that vote of confidence I am in fact capable of finishing this on my own." Ooops, that was snappish rather than sarcastic.
"And also I was bored." He smiled at her, which was very disarming, dammit.
"Fine. You can stand over there and hand me nails."
The morning turned out tolerable, after all.
--