Disclaimer: Oh, go to hell, stupid Hiatus. I mean, none of this belongs to me, obviously. If it did, there wouldn't be so many hiatuses.
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Hey Guys! Ten\eleven hours until Veronica Mars! Aren't you excited? I can hardly wait! Now, you probably think I wrote this because I needed something to distract me from the coming episodes… well, you probably don't even give a damn, but I still feel the need to tell you the circumstances of this story. (Yes, there is a somewhat average-length tale coming, feel free to skip to the story, just please REVIEW?
Anyway, to those who stuck (I love you, guys!), you see, a month or so ago, I was sick. Like really sick, but not the kind of sick that gets you sweet, sweet anti-biotic drugs. All I had were lousy pain killers that lasted for about an hour, even though I was allowed to take one every six hours! So, long story short, this story was written fifty minutes before I was due for the next pill, when the fever was burning all my sanity and happiness away and my throat hurt so much I thought I was dying. That's where the prime angst comes from. However, then I took the pill, and instead of finishing this story with a murder-suicide like I had originally planned, the drugs kicked in and, well, you'll see. I think you can actually pin-point where the pain-killers started taking effect.
Right, then, sorry about that, it just that the memory still makes me shudder and put on a sweater to keep the bad germs away. Enjoy! And please let me know what you THINK because this is my first written-in-present-like fic and I'm really nervous about it!
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Sir, Someone To See You:
By: Simply Lily.
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"Logan, please."
She's begging. That's not good. He didn't expect begging, he's not equipped to handle it. And maybe she's not so much begging as being sarcastic, as in "Logan, please, who are you kidding?"
He's not equipped for that, either.
"Veronica, no. This isn't right. I love you, and this isn't right."
"You don't love me," she says as if the mere thought is disgusting
"I do," he insists, "that's why I'm telling you that this isn't right. I love you so much that I'm willing to endure a cold shower and self flagellation for you."
She's angry. That's fine. Anger's better than sarcasm. "Well, I suggest you get to that then."
"Someday, you'll thank me. Maybe you'll even love me more for this. Anyway, you'll thank me."
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Yeah, that's what he should have said.
The reality?
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"Veronica?"
There is no sound at first and just as Logan's is about to (close the door) ask again she looks up and fuck, what is she doing here, anyway? Veronica's hair hangs damply on her shoulders, of course (because, apparently, dead inside is totally the new sexy look), and she has this - wild feral crazy murderous heated violent – hollow look in her eyes that makes him want to turn around and hide under his bed until the storm passes.
He expects a quip. Something vicious with absolutely no meaning, the kind that she likes to throw his way and that he loves throwing back. He expects her to realize that Duncan doesn't live here anymore so she definitely has the wrong room, but thanks for visiting us, Ma'am. He expects her to realize that no, seriously, Duncan doesn't live here anymore and neither does Lilly. So they don't have to hide behind that concept of happiness anymore.
She doesn't say a single word, merely pushes him into the room and herself from the hall.
"Ooh, Ronnie, where does this aggressiveness come from, I wonder," he says and, as usual, it's planets away from what he feels because he doesn't care where this is coming from as long as she comes to him when it does.
"I'm sorry," she breathes, addressing the words to the excited pulse at his neck, "am I in the wrong room?"
Her comment serves to shut the single cell in Logan's brain which up until this moment had tried to play the sensible role and tell him that if he becomes the face she seeks when she hates then eventually she'll start hating him and look for another face.
That cell is gone now anyway. Packed a bag and moved to Mexico. Don't forget to write now, Amigo.
Cupping her face in his hands, he lifts her head so that she has to look at and kisses her so that she doesn't. She responds immediately and this is the most scorching kiss they have ever shared with anyone. He's almost honored to be her first angry fuck.
Well, he hopes he's her first. You never know with Veronica Mars.
Suddenly they're on one of the beds and hopefully it's Logan's because otherwise things will be even more awkward in the morning. She takes his shirt off and says his name. Logan's glad to know he's even there.
He lets her call the shots and it's not as sadistic and furious as he'd thought it would be. It's not the best night of his life, either, because he's sure that they'll have better nights together. Nights when they could, you know, enjoy what they're doing, experiment, love even. It's still obviously not the worst night in his life, though. Don't be ridiculous.
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"Logan, please."
She didn't even have to say it. She didn't have to say anything. One tilt of that cute little head, one kiss that bruised his lips in a way he'd totally missed and it's come right in, Precious; can I get you anything from the bar?
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"I love you, and this isn't–" oh, screw it.
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He swings back into consciousness somehow and he's sure right away that he didn't dream any of it. He can smell something rosy, you see, and unless the maid has finally decided to reveal her true feelings to him, then no, he didn't dream any of it.
In the movies, the guy, or girl, always reaches for the space next to them on the bed, expecting to find the person they went to sleep with last night. The bed is always empty. Unless, of course, the movie is a romantic comedy or a romantic drama, in that case the bed is empty in the middle of the movie, but everything works out in the end so it's not empty then.
This probably isn't the end of The Logan Echolls Horror Picture Show so maybe it's best if he doesn't reach over because, well, the odds of not stroking fancy sheets are very slim and fondling cotton or satin or whatever was never really his thing.
Instead, he opens his eyes carefully and braces himself to be faced with an empty room.
However, the room is not empty. Oh, thank God; you know I was only playing tough before, right? Veronica is sitting on the bed, watching him with an apologetic smile. She's not wrapped in a blanket, which would have been pretty damn sweet, he wagers, but she's also not wholly dressed and ready to go, which would have been pretty damn devastating, and this he knows from experience (no, not just from Lilly, thank you very much).
"Aw, did you stay to give your condolences in person? That's so cute, Veronica," he says, just in case she did wait to do just that.
The smile disappears from her face (it didn't reach her eyes before, anyway, so good riddance) and she looks at her hands for a while before directing her gaze back at him. "I wasn't sure if I should stay," she admits, somewhat shyly.
Logan swallows the snark he prepared to throw back and sighs. "Why is that, Ronn-Veronica?" he decides to not call her that, just this once, so that the name doesn't lose its sweetness forever. He'd like to call her that again someday, under better circumstances.
She shrugs. "Well, frankly? I didn't know what to say. Sorry I was such a psycho last night, please take me back?" she laughs at the supposed stupidity of that sentence and he can't help thinking that it would have been kind of nice, actually.
"Well, that would have been kind of nice, actually," he voices his unedited thoughts for the first time in months. Suddenly he feels very vulnerable, like maybe his snark-free thoughts aren't even worth hearing.
She seems surprised, "really?"
He nods and raises to a sitting position, "it certainly would have broken the ice."
Her chuckle is unexpected, the blush even more so, neither of them are unpleasant, though. "You would have taken me back?" she asks in wonder, as if it was even a question.
"As pathetic as it may be, Ronnie, I will probably always take you back. In fact, I'm pretty sure I'll always try to force myself back when you'll be the one who wants me out." Suddenly the words are flowing out of his mouth like they did that day she dumped him. He comes to the conclusion that it's easier to talk to her when she's listening as supposed to smirking or glaring.
Veronica smiles and this time the smile does reach her eyes. "Just between us? I'll probably always take you back too."
Logan decides that this conversation has gone on long enough. He's heard what he had wanted to hear and said what he had wanted to say; whatever was left could be left for another day. He moves forward to kiss her but she moves back, shaking her head softly. He frowns (don't change your mind already. Please don't change your mind already).
"Lie back," she whispers.
His frown deepens because there isn't really anything sexual about her voice.
She rolls her eyes but the smile stays firmly in place, "Lie back and close your eyes. I wanna start this over."
A chuckle rises from a place inside him that has been playing dead for a while now. After assuming she's serious, he complies, lies back down and almost forces himself to close his eyes.
He feels the mattress bounce back (she stood up) and can't help shivering slightly with fear. Not a minute later, though, he feels her lying back down and covering herself with the blanket. Logan wants to laugh, but his character is supposed to be sleeping, so he doesn't. Warm lips press themselves against his forehead tenderly. It's not even a kiss; it's something so much better. He opens his eyes and flashes her the ten-year-old boy's grin he never used when he was ten.
"Sorry I was such a psycho last night," she whispers playfully, "please take me back?"
Even though his character is supposed to be all sluggish, Logan rolls over and positions himself over Veronica. Well, I guess bad acting is the newly discovered gene. He kisses her neck and murmurs the cheesiest word anyone could possibly muster which becomes oddly perfect when is used in just the right moment.
"Always."
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Remember that insecurity thingie? It's still very much relevant. REVIEW? puppy face