Logan lifted a forearm to his scrunched brow, shielding his eyes from the warm lighting as he forced his eyelids open. He shook his head for a moment, trying to register the source of the sounds responsible for his rude awakening at - he glanced at his Rolex - 2:00 a.m.! The high-pitched, synthetic tone continued to pierce the air.
It doesn't seem to make a whole lot of sense, but that sound sure reminds me of my - doorbell?
Logan sat up from the deep impression his form had created in the soft loveseat cushions. A quick stretch eased his cramped shoulders.
The sounds came faster, harder. Logan tried to blink away the sleep in his eyes, his mind barely awake enough to process. His building was secure, extremely so. No outsider could enter without registration. So who could be pounding away at his doorbell in the unholy hours of the night?
The ringing stopped abruptly. Logan cocked his ear at the sudden silence.
A second later, the sound of dangling metal scraped at the door.
The only person on my free-to-enter list was Chris. Until last week, when I added -
Logan jumped up, strode across the pocket foyer, and flung his front door open. True enough, a small blond named Veronica Mars stood at his threshold, her hands suspended in the air with a lock pick and her eyes fixated on him.
A moment's observation made Logan gulp. He had expected her, but he had not expected what he actually saw: the teary glint of her unfathomable eyes, the anguish in her bitten lower lip, and the trembling of her body down to the tip of her dishevelled golden hair.
What's going on?
Every part of him wanted to envelope her into his arms and kiss away her troubles.
Instead, he cleared his throat, "Veronica, hi. Uhm, sorry I didn't answer sooner. I - "
He never finished his apology before she thrust herself into his chest, wrapping her arms tightly around his torso. Her scent filled his lungs, and he reflexively closed his eyes. For a few seconds, he let them be - her arms wound taut around him, and his hands placed gently on her back. She shivered, and he pressed her just a little tighter.
He had no idea what was going on, but he was not about to push her away.
A moment later, Veronica sobbed.
What on earth?
Logan moved his hands to her shoulders to gentle push her far enough to see her face. She refused, her grip resolutely tightening. His lungs complained, but he let her sob against his chest for a few more seconds.
Angry Veronica I know. Crying Veronica? I don't have an S.O.P. for that.
"Logan, please," her muffled voice spoke into his shirt. "Don't go. don't go."
"Ronnie, I'm not going anywhere." He tried to lift her face again, this time with slightly more success. His right hand tilted her chin. "What's wrong? Tell me."
Her eyes met his for a quick moment before looking down again.
Veronica, please.
"I called you so many times," she finally spoke. "I thought you were in danger."
Logan knitted his brows for a moment before he extricated himself to march to the sofa. He quickly dug out his phone.
13 missed calls? Boy, am I gonna get a whipping tonight.
"Veronica, I'm so sorry. I fell asleep, and I didn't - " He turned around as he spoke, stopping when he found her standing right behind him, hands pressed together and body shivering.
His heart ached as he reached for her shoulders to steady her. To know that she worried - that she cared - he was ecstatic. But to see her broken and in tears - no, he couldn't take that he caused that.
"Veronica, I - "
Two small, strong hands yanked him down from the neck, and her lips crashed on to his.
His eyes instantly closed, his arms finding their way around her waist. Their lips and faces aligned as seamlessly as they'd always had. Closer, closer, and closer, he pulled her into his embrace. Longer, deeper, and hungrier, their every kiss grew.
In the recesses of his mind, a voice rallied and argued - telling him it was wrong, impossible, and unwise. He couldn't and shouldn't do this. She wasn't ready and would run away the very next day.
But by now, their bodies had relocated. Logan sat on his couch, Veronica straddling his lap, when he pulled away from their reckless intensity. Arms still around her, he pressed their foreheads - now levelled in height - softly together. His breath unsteady, as was hers, he whispered in a voice that was barely his own, "Veronica, you know and I know where we're headed with this. And as much as I would want it, I - "
She cut him off with another firm, determined kiss.
Three times now, Veronica. No can do.
He kissed her back for a minute before holding her down by the shoulders. "Veronica, why? Just earlier tonight, you - "
"Logan," her hand shot up over his mouth. "I can't afford to lose you - not again."
Nor I, you.
One look into her stricken eyes later, Logan Echolls killed the voice in his head.
With renewed passion, he fitted her snugly against him and pulled them both up from the sofa, their mouths ever attached. His steps ragged but sure, he spun them both towards the bedroom - her vest, his shirt, and her blouse disappearing along the way. The motion-sensitive lights encased them in a warm glow as they moved towards his king-size bed.
As her hands wandered under his waistband, his worked to remove her bra. Her scent and taste overwhelmed him, and her moans doubled his heartbeat as he kissed a trail down her neck to her chest. He wanted her; she wanted him. There was nothing else that existed in the universe.
And maybe that's how things had always been supposed to be. Logan Echolls and Veronica Mars - they were never about slow-burning embers that gradually flamed into fire. They weren't the kind of people who just subtly grew into each other's lives incidentally. Their passion - their love - was a sudden and overwhelming deluge that, once allowed, would pour forth from the floodgates of heaven until every other living creature disappeared. In Neptune or in LA, in high school or college or into their twenties - their relationship would never be any other way. They were epic.
His seventeen-year-old self had been right all along.
And as their naked bodies entwined amongst the silken sheets, Logan knew that he would never survive again without her. And as he buried himself deep within her - till the peak of both their pleasure - he knew there would be no turning back. He had surrendered his final sanctuary. He would never escape Veronica Mars.
"Hey, I'm sorry, pal. Hope you're okay." The young man pressed a hand on his companion's knee. "I don't know what got into me."
The older man to the side flinched at the contact but didn't pull away.
"Seriously, Kurt, you can't blame the fellow. We needed the deaths to look random." Her voice, strong and demanding, shot across the bare office. She sashayed over and perched herself on the hurting man's lap, her every curve accentuated by her short Valentino red dress. "You know he didn't mean it, sweetheart."
She kissed the man beneath her soundly, her red curls bouncing with the movement. She pulled back after a few seconds.
Breathless at their lost of contact, the older man blurted, "I should've done a better job."
"Yes, you should've," Kurt stood up and paced the room.
"Kurt, you know he tried!" Her protests betrayed obvious frustration.
"But she's not dead!" The young man's waves whipped the air at his sharp turn. "She's lying in a hospital, ready to ID us anytime!"
"Then we'll make sure she's not!"
Kurt paused for a moment. He looked at the creature on the tattered chair - one hand pressed an ice pack to his face while the other wound around a woman he sincerely believed loved him back. Kurt almost smirked. "Okay, this is your chance. Prove it."
The lady smiled back at Kurt approvingly. The man, in turn, looked adequately grateful. He responded after a cough, "I'll make sure of it, sir. I would've finished her tonight already. But that pesky little blond - she just had to show up."
"Then get rid of her."
"I would, sir. But the thing is, she's got a thing with Lester. I can't just make her disappear."
Now Kurt scoffed. He walked towards the giant glass window, faced away from his companions. His voice echoed off the glass. "Mr. Lance Lester, huh? Well, Hollywood royalty or not - if someone wants to stay in the way, then we got to inform them loud and clear."
The soothing whispers of ocean waves massaged her ears as she breathed in the salt-kissed air. The horizon glowed in the sunrise, waters glistening and clouds in a serene haze. The whispers grew, and the edges of her view dissolved into a deep mahogany hue.
Veronica's eyes popped open. With a sharp breath, she rapidly took in her surroundings: the silky sheets beneath her, the backlit and modern wooden wall paneling, the soft scent of the ocean, and - the topless man beside her with his arm slung tightly around her equally topless torso. A small smile crept on her lips.
Sensually, she ran her fingers up the length of the muscled arm around her waist as she slowly turned to face him. An invisible hand clutched at her heart as she gazed at his peacefully sleeping face. Last night - and all it encompassed - that was no one-night stand; there was no awkward sex attempted to create false intimacy within a soulless relationship. This was Logan Echolls: the man who in all probability was - though she might never admit aloud - the love of her life.
She ran her fingertips on his face, her eyes drinking in his every feature.
If only we could stay here forever.
A second later, two chocolate eyes looked tenderly back at her.
"Morning, bobcat." His voice was particularly sexy in the morning. She remembered as much.
Veronica blinked and pressed their smiling lips together in a soft kiss.
"You okay?" His face was filled with sweet concern as he brushed his fingers through her hair.
She nodded.
His eyebrows furrowed.
Veronica lowered her eyes. He wanted more; she knew. He wanted to know why she had ended up at his doorstep last night and threw herself at him with abandon. He wanted to know that she really meant for them to last, this time around.
But right now, putting the morning's blissful contentment into words was a risk she refused to take.
She looked up and kissed him again - before jumping up from the bed and gathering her clothes.
"Going somewhere?" Logan sat up, placing his muscled arms atop the knees beneath the comforter.
"Bobcat's gotta work, honey." She smiled back at him for a moment as she continued her clothing treasure hunt.
"The Marines isn't open till six tonight, you know?"
"Yup." She marched up to his side as she adjusted her undergarments. "But when an agent disappears for a night after a new attack, there's a lot of things she has to account for."
She leaned in to kiss him. "And I think sleeping in with the boss isn't exactly an acceptable excuse."
She meant it to be a joke, really; but Logan's stiffened form indicated that he heard it otherwise.
And that is why I need to keep my stupid mouth shut.
Veronica buttoned up her blouse and sat down on the bed. She sandwiched his left hand between her own. After a minute of running her thumbs over the hair at the back of his palm, he visibly relaxed.
"Logan, you know you're more than that, right?"
He smiled at her, tentatively.
Taking the cue, she pressed his hand against her lips. "I'll see you again tonight?"
"Okay, but don't work too late."
"Oh trust me, there are activities I like way better than waiting tables." She winked, laughed, and pulled her vest with her out the door.
"Agent Stone, I need you to run a license plate for me," Veronica spoke into her hands-free microphone as she shuffled in the small purse for her keys. "DE1908. Okay, thanks."
The deep brown door gave way to her nudge as she pushed in to Shannon Mayfield's apartment.
"There you are."
Veronica jumped.
Oh hi, Seth, totally the best way to greet a lady.
She let out the breath she was holding.
"Seriously, Seth, I know you have the keys; but you don't have to welcome yourself on to the middle of my couch without warning." She tossed her purse on the table and crossed her arms.
Seth rolled his eyes and stood up. "It's not me who went MIA last night, Agent Mars."
"It was after hours, Perkins."
"It's never after hours when a murderer is on the loose."
She could - she wanted - to snap back; but a small part of her couldn't deny that Seth was partially right. Last night, Agent Mars had mentally signed off for the longest break she'd ever had. And Veronica wasn't exactly proud.
A small beep had her snatching up her phone to scan her new text.
"DE1908. Donavan family. Members in L.A. include heir apparent Kurt and sister Elise."
She scrolled down to reveal the attached owners' pictures. Her face blanched. It was him - no it wasn't him, him - but there was no mistaking Kurt Donavan as anyone other than Ashley Lu's romantic dance partner in The Marines last week.
Veronica narrowed her eyes. Logan had dismissed Mercer's doppelganger as a suspect instantly, pointing to his expensive apparel as proof. But could he just as easily had been wrong?
"Veronica?" She looked up at Seth's voice. "I didn't come here just to scare you."
She stared back, her mind still racing.
"I got the overnight results on the zip-lock." Seth's voice carried an unusual weight. He handed her his tablet. "You're not gonna like it."
A/N: I finally found time to write again! My love and thanks to all my readers. Thank you to NorCal91, irma66, Angelpete87, nikatsu, Dramamomma19, tigerlady1981, viki, Bondopoulos, hansongirl14, Laetitia, here's wonderwall, hugsandpuppies, spiderwho, and Sunkissu9 for their encouraging reviews. I hope you guys liked this chapter. I'll be working hard on the next one!
