Money was no object. That was clear when Veronica let herself into Duncan's suite only to find a stranger standing in front of her, asking for her jacket. She looked at him, one eyebrow raised, then slowly handed the five-year-old wool pea coat that she highly doubted deserved the designation of jacket.

"What the fuck?" Veronica asked as she rounded the corner and found another small cadre of people dressed in black and white standing over silver serving dishes and warming plates.

"Thanksgiving." Duncan said softly in her ear. His voice made her jump and she turned around and smiled.

"I see." Veronica said, glancing around. "Not quite the dry turkey and canned cranberry jelly my mom used to throw together."

There had been real Thanksgiving dinners in the Mars household. Veronica thought she could vaguely remember some store bought pumpkin pie, sweet potatoes with clouds of jet puffed marshmallows floating on top. Then there were the years when her dad made spaghetti and her mom lay passed out on their worn velvet couch with the television blaring. She would eat the spaghetti and tell her dad it was the best ever then plan to lie to everyone at school the next day. Those were the Thanksgivings Veronica remembered the most.

"Seven courses." Duncan said as his hands wrapped around her waist and Veronica felt his lips warm on the side of her neck. She smiled. How could she not smile when her boyfriend was going all out to make her Thanksgiving special?

Dad had called earlier that day. Still in Vegas. Still waiting for the greasy Vince Morgan to show up at the hotel. He was sorry, he said over the phone. He'd planned for this to be the best Thanksgiving yet. Veronica told him she loved him and that he was the best dad in the entire world. He promised her he'd be back the next day. Then he hung up and Veronica sat in the quiet living room of their apartment listening to the sounds of the traffic outside. The smell of turkey cooking from one of the neighboring apartments wafted in. Suddenly the loneliness felt like it might crush her.

"Our first Thanksgiving." Veronica said as she smiled up at Duncan. She felt bright and forced, like her happiness was a shiny coating over the sadness that seemed permanently lodged inside. "Just you and me."

She felt Duncan tense a little.

"Uhhhh."

Veronica swallowed. She knew what his hesitation meant.

"Logan." she said quietly under her breath.

"He had no where to go."

Veronica turned to face Duncan who had on his best pleading little boy face. She'd seen it a million times when he wanted something from Celeste or Jake. Now he was using it on her.

"It's okay." Veronica lied.

The polenta was silky smooth against her tongue. Veronica closed her eyes and let the flavors invade her mouth.

Flora was the best restaurant in town. Four stars. Eating there wasn't something the common folk of Neptune did very often. For them it was a special anniversary, maybe for a wedding proposal. Only Neptune's rich enjoyed its food more than once every few years. And only one could get their chef to prepare a special meal. Veronica felt a stab of shame as she lifted her fork to her mouth.

"Beats serving that crap they call Thanksgiving dinner at the homeless shelter."

Veronica started to level a glare across the table when she felt Duncan's hand on her thigh. It stayed there, heavy and warm against the fabric of her skirt. She felt his fingers squeeze her reassuringly.

She smiled instead; making her mouth curve up in the sweetest, brightest grin she could twist it into. She didn't bother to suppress the anger that sparked in her eyes as she looked across the table. Logan smiled back, equally saccharine, the same anger flashing in his eyes.

Sometimes she wished there could be room for forgiveness. She wondered why they couldn't find a way back to the easy camaraderie they used to have when Lilly was alive and Duncan was still her first boyfriend and Logan never looked at her with a hunger that made her stomach twist. Whenever he saw her watching him back his face would shut down, the now familiar sneer would creep back into place and Veronica would wonder if the hunger was just a projection of her dreams.

Logan lifted his glass of wine to her.

"Cheers." He said sarcastically. "To Neptune's own girl detective."

Before Veronica could tell Logan to fuck off, Duncan raised his glass as well.

"She's pretty smart, my girl."

Veronica fought back a wince at Duncan's words. She didn't feel like his girl. Most of the time she felt like she belonged to no body. She looked at Duncan and smiled, then her eyes shifted back to Logan just in time to see a strange pain cross his face. Veronica picked up her glass and raised it.

"Cheers."

Next was pumpkin soup. It was smooth and creamy with just a hint of ginger. A guy dressed in black and white ladled it carefully into the expensive bone china Duncan had brought from the Kane house for this occasion. Veronica thought she recognized him from third period math. Maybe he sat in the back.

Duncan was in the middle of a long story about an acquisition that Kane software was working on. It was too long and too detailed and Veronica really didn't care so she nodded and smiled as she brought another spoonful of soup to her mouth, letting the velvety texture slide down her throat. She closed her eyes as the ginger filled her nostrils.

When she opened them she looked directly into Logan's eyes. This time he didn't look away.

Duncan was still talking, his voice white noise in the background.

Veronica finally managed to tear her eyes away. She picked up her wine glass and became overly interested in watching the burgundy liquid swirl around the glass. When she looked back up Logan was watching Duncan, laughing at something he said. Veronica's hand shook a little as she raised her glass and took a slip of wine.

Veronica's plate was whisked away and another person appeared by her side and quickly brushed the crumbs off the table. Before she could blink a small plate of greens was set in front of her.

"I picked out the vinaigrette." Duncan said as he lifted his fork. "Shitake mushrooms and soy sauce…."

Veronica set down her fork and leaned toward Duncan when she heard Logan's voice.

"Uhhh." He stuttered. "Veronica…"

Veronica and Duncan looked at him. There was silence for a moment, hanging thick in the room. Logan looked from Veronica then to Duncan then back to Veronica.

"Yeah?" Duncan asked.

"Sorry." Logan said, looking uncomfortable. "It's just that…Veronica's allergic to mushrooms."

Duncan turned to Veronica. He kissed her lightly on the forehead.

"Sorry, babe. I should have asked."

Veronica smiled. She glanced across the table at Logan. He'd remembered.

When they finished the main course, a grilled rack of lamb with pinot noir sauce, Duncan pulled his napkin off his lap and set it on the table. He stood up and excused himself to go to the bathroom. Veronica and Logan were left sitting at the table across from each other. Veronica stared at the tablecloth for a moment then fiddled with her water glass. Finally she brought her eyes up and looked at him.

She didn't know what she'd expected. Sarcasm. Maybe anger. Maybe even nothing, the same blank stare Logan had been giving her for months when he passed her in the hallways at school.

What she didn't expect was the loss imprinted in Logan's eyes as they locked on hers. She knew that loss; it was the same as her loss, the one tattooed on her skin, imprinted on her soul.

"Do you miss him?" Veronica asked quietly.

She waited for the sneer, the caustic comment, the dismissive jab she was sure would be thrown her way. Veronica could barely disguise her surprise when Logan just sighed heavily and played with the fork next to his plate.

"Most of the time I hate him." He said quietly, staring down at the tablecloth, not looking up. "I hate him right now. But he's my dad, and I miss him too…"

Logan's voice trailed off. Veronica thought about her mother and how much she hated the booze and passing out, the grocery money suddenly disappearing and Top Ramen for a week. She thought about how much she wanted her back. At least how much she wanted a mother.

"Well, you didn't' kill each other." Veronica jumped at Duncan's voice. He slid back into his chair and smiled at her. Veronica smiled back for what felt like the hundredth time that evening.

For years Veronica would fault the dessert. It was a luscious, velvety chocolate cake that melted on her tongue. There was only one way to eat it; slowly, letting every bit of the chocolate coat her mouth and tongue. She closed her eyes and savored every bit.

The beginning of the end was when she opened them.

He was watching her across the table. Just watching, his eyes taking in every detail of her face. Veronica's breath caught as she returned his gaze and she hoped that Duncan didn't notice the little gasp that escaped from between her lips. Her heart started to pound so loudly that she thought the sound might fill the entire room.

She should have stopped at that moment. She should have put her fork down; let it clatter against the fine bone china. She should have left her dessert there, only one bite eaten, told Duncan she was stuffed, leaned over and kissed her boyfriend on the cheek, thank him for the best thanksgiving dinner she'd ever had.

She didn't do that. Instead she took her fork and cut off another bite and brought it to her lips. She put the bite in her mouth and closed her eyes again.

The air crackled with tension when she opened them. Electricity shot between her and Logan as their eyes met and she saw his mouth fall open just a little. Veronica took another bite.

By the fourth bite she knew what would happen next. She knew from the look on Logan's face. She knew from the way her body was tingling. She knew from the melting feeling that was starting in the pit of her stomach and moving down between her legs.

Veronica would never know how she got through the last two courses of the meal. She watched as a plate of artisan cheeses were placed in front of her. She tasted each one, commented on their flavor. She sipped sweet late harvest dessert wine. She put her arm through Duncan's and wobbled a bit from the wine. She said good night to Logan. She washed her face and pulled her pajamas from her overnight bag and settled down next to Duncan in the huge California king hotel bed with its velvet comforter and crisp white cotton sheets.

She didn't sleep.

Veronica heard every sound. The swish of the elevator up and down the building. The quiet ticking of the wall clock. The hiss of traffic on the street fifteen stories below. Out in the hallway a door slammed, there was silver tinkle of laughter, then the quiet again.

An hour later, maybe two, she heard it. The creak of footsteps. The quiet shutting of the bathroom door.

Veronica gently moved Duncan's arm that was thrown across her and slipped out from beneath the comforter. The chill of the air conditioning hit her skin causing goose bumps to run up and down her bare arms. She wrapped her arms around herself and rubbed them to get some warmth. Her footsteps were muffled on the carpet as she made her way down the hall. The only sound she could hear was her pounding heart and quick short breaths. She turned the corner into the living room.

"Veronica."

Logan's voice was soft, husky. It whispered in her ear and she almost jumped, except his hands were coming around her ribcage and pulling her against him. She leaned back against him, feeling the way his body fit against hers.

"Shhhhh." She whispered into the darkness. She didn't want conversation. Not when his hands were slipping under her pajama top, cold fingers on her heated skin. He found her breasts and Veronica bit back a small moan as his fingertips grazed them softly.

When his lips found her neck, pressing small kisses up the its side, Veronica pressed hard against him, feeling his arousal hard against her back. One of his hands started to slip under the drawstring of her pajama bottoms. When his fingers found her, slick and wet, Veronica jumped and Logan jerked his hands away.

"Wha…" he said, not finishing his sentence because Veronica turned and leapt into his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist and causing Logan to stumble backwards.

"Veronica." He started again, his voice confused, trying to make sense of all this craziness that felt even more insane in the pitch-black velvet of nighttime.

"No talking." She hissed just before her lips crushed into his. She pushed her tongue in his mouth and kissed him hard before pulling back for a second. "Just fuck me."

"Hell, yes." Logan muttered then kissed her again, his mouth crushing hers so hard that Veronica tasted blood. Logan was already pulling down her pajama bottoms as he stumbled backwards and fell onto the couch. Veronica finished pulling off the bottoms then straddled Logan's hips, pushing his boxers down. In one swift moment she sunk down, taking him deep inside her. She heard him growl and she held still, her thighs shaking with the exertion.

"Fucking, move." Logan hissed. At the same time he pushed his hips up and Veronica felt him move inside her. That was her cue to start moving her hips up and down, a dirty rhythm that brought her closer and closer to the shattering that would leave her gasping, sweat dripping onto Logan's t-shirt as she bit her lip in an effort not to scream.

His hand was back under her tank top, fingers skimming her rib care, caressing her breasts, squeezing and pulling. His other hand was at the small of her back, resting lightly, pushing a little when she started to totter backwards.

Veronica's head fell back as she felt everything tighten and melt at the same time. Her mouth slackened as her eyes dilated and her body started to take over, wave after wave of pleasure running through her stomach, her thighs, all the way down to her toes that curled.

"Fuck." She whispered against the palm of Logan's hand that was covering her mouth. Then it fell away as she felt him start to jerk against her.

When they were done Veronica lay against Logan's chest, her hands gripping the thin fabric of his t-shirt. His hand was softly stroking her hair. After a long time of just listening to each other breath, Veronica finally found her voice.

"This can't happen again."

Logan didn't answer. His hand stopped stroking her hair. They were both still.

"I know." He finally said after a long while. His voice was tired and had a little quiver that she could tell he was trying to hide.

Veronica pulled herself up. She slid off the couch, stood up and glanced around for her pajama bottoms. When she found them she pulled them on. Logan lay on the couch watching her every move. When she turned to go he reached his hand out. It hung in mid air. Veronica looked at it, contemplated it for just a moment, then reached hers out and took his hand, squeezing it. A question, unspoken, hung between them, a dark, ghostly specter Veronica knew could tear her apart.

"I can't…." she finally said, her voice sounding strange in the quiet. "I love him."

"I know." Logan answered.

She turned and walked out of the room, her feet padding across the carpet, down the hallway, back into the darkened bedroom. Pulling back the comforter she slipped in-between the sheets. Duncan mumbled something in his sleep and turned, throwing an arm across her and snuggling his warm body close to her cold one. Veronica stared at the ceiling, her body still languid from sex, and cried.

The End