The timeline caterpillars a bit in this chapter, so if it's hard to follow, please let me know. This installment is a bit angsty, which is not my favorite thing to write, but I promise the next chapter will bring the fun again. To make the angst go down more easily, this chapter has a healthy dose of sMut, so you have been warned.
CHAPTER 12
Time is on my side, yes it is
Time is on my side, yes it is
"Wha?" Veronica uttered as she shot up from the cold floor. It had been two days, she guessed, since she'd been taken, but she couldn't be absolutely sure. For all she knew, she might have been there a week.
Palming her way around her immediate area felt roughly like crawling through a haunted house. The lights were out, it was pitch black, and virtually anything could be lurking in the shadows. It was freakishly silent, but for the soft croak of Mick Jagger's voice cutting through the darkness.
She knew this tactic well. If done correctly, it can cause the prisoner to panic, and panic loosens lips and breeds mistakes.
Beyond the obvious lack of access to the sun, they had been drugging her food intermittently with some kind of insomnia medicine, forcing her to sleep on hard concrete in the same clothes she came in with, and waking her up with this loud fucking music every morning. Or afternoon. Or both? She couldn't be sure. The only thing she was sure of was that she would strangle the life out of Mick Jagger if given the chance.
Since Veronica (of all people) couldn't really avoid eating, she was pretty much resigned to her fate. Clearly these mobsters had rented 'Guantanamo Bay's Greatest Hits' or something, because they were employing Git'mo's tried and true torture techniques like they were painting by numbers. Sleep deprivation, disorientation, and isolation with a sidecar of intimidation – they were working their way through them all.
She had been trained for this, obviously, but it didn't make Mick Fucking Jagger any less annoying. She had to admit, the music might be the worst part. The only solace she had was that they hadn't chosen to harass her with songs by Britney Spears or Katy Perry. Now that really would have been torture.
Now you always say
That you want to be free
But you'll come running back (you said you would baby)
You'll come running back (I said so many times before)
"You'll come running back to meeeee!" Veronica sung loudly into the abyss. "Oh, time is on my side, yes it is. Time is on my side, yes it is."
Veronica knew the words. She had known them since she was a kid, but if she hadn't picked them up before, she sure as hell knew them now. Like it or not, this song was her only constant right now. With nothing but a foreign void surrounding her, she had to cling to something, and this was all she had that was familiar.
She started to clap her hands along with the song. "You're searching for good times, but just wait and see. You'll come running back. You'll come running back. You'll come running back to me!"
Was she going crazy? Were they succeeding in breaking her? No. She wouldn't be broken by Jagger. Smarter kidnappers would have played Michael Bolton, which would have broken her like a twig in about an hour.
From behind, she heard a familiar sound, and her voice trailed off as she tried to control her breathing. The clicking of a revolver being cocked into position is a sound she had intimate knowledge of, she'd heard it a million times when she was training how to shoot. Strange how it always sounded a little different when the gun was pointed at your own head.
She closed her eyes tightly and all she could see was Logan. He was holding her, stroking her face, and spinning her down a long hallway, stopping frequently to press her up against the wall for a kiss. She could smell him all everywhere and nearly imagine his warmth surrounding her. If this was it for her, this was how she wanted to go out – in her safe place. It may not be real, but she didn't care. She'd spent over five years remembering all of these little details, and if she focused hard enough, she might even be able to trick herself into believing it's real. Almost.
"Veronica Mars," the thick Russian accent she heard the other day called out. "You are going to do something for us."
"Contact Duncan Kane," she responded.
Veronica could hear the man behind her wheezing heavily. She guessed by his tone of voice and the gait of his breath that he was in his late 50's, smoked at least a pack a day and was barrel-chested.
"You have good memory," he responded happily. "Are you ready to complete task?"
She took a deep breath. She recognized this as her 'moment of truth', but compared to her 'moment of truth' from six weeks ago, this was a cakewalk. She'd gladly take a bullet to the brain over what happened to her then. Once you have your throat cut by a psychopath, nothing really can phase you anymore.
"Why should I? You're just going to kill me anyway, right?" she questioned calmly. She was positive that if they were going to shoot her, they would do it regardless. It was either in the plan or it wasn't, and nothing she said or did now would change that.
There was a moment of silence. The man was not expecting this reaction and got a little flustered. "Uh, we don't care about killing you. We want Duncan Kane."
"You're planning on killing Duncan Kane?" Veronica asked pointedly.
The cold barrel of the gun pressed against the back of her skull painfully and she exhaled slowly. No sudden moves.
"We don't have to kill Duncan Kane. We only need him to disappear." he explained without further detail.
What? He had disappeared. What the hell were they talking about. "Nobody knows where he is, not even me," she insisted.
"What about Jake Kane?" he asked.
"What about Jake Kane?" Veronica spat with derision. She'd stay on the rack for Duncan, but no fucking way was she going to go through another minute of hell if all of this was for Jake Kane.
"You are no fan of Jake Kane?" he spoke.
She laughed a little to herself. "Understatement of the year, comrade. Nobody is less of a fan of Jake Kane than me...except for maybe you, I'm guessing."
The gun eased off of her head and she could hear the hammer being returned to it's starting position. "We chat, yes? Maybe we make little deal?"
She ran her hands over her face and her spine finally relaxed. "Yeah, okay. Let's make a deal."
Five years earlier.
Strong fingers drifted over Veronica's naked spine, their journey terminating at the junction of her pert behind before cupping one of her cheeks. "It's official. I am either a moron or completely in love with you," Logan said, followed by a pathetic laugh.
Veronica jerked her head off the pillow to look at him over her shoulder, her golden hair to fell to her side like a curtain. "You sure you're not both?" she asked, her nose crinkling in amusement, before letting her head drop like a stone back onto the pillow. "I always kind of thought you were both," she murmured into the linens.
He leaned over to kiss the back of her neck. "You're probably right," he breathed hotly into her ear, causing her to shiver. "Only a fool in love would risk bodily harm to defend your honor," he said as he slowly kissed his way down her spine to her buttocks. "...and I'm using the word 'honor' loosely, since the event in question concerned your sex tape with another man." He sunk his teeth into her left butt cheek, prompting her to yelp and flip over.
"Back off, Iron Mike. You bit me!" Veronica yelled in mock horror. "And it was not a sex tape!" she shouted defensively.
"My bad. Your making-out-while-performing-pep-squad-routines-nak ed-tape," he said, correcting his phrasing. "And you should be ashamed of yourself," he chided lightly as the corners of his mouth curled up.
"You've done so much worse than appear on film nude, Logan," she grumbled, trying to wiggle out from under him.
"I was referring to the pep squad routine, Ronnie, not the nudity. So déclassé, Bobcat."
"Oh, I don't know, you didn't seem to find my can-can kicks too déclassé, when I was doing them for you," she said, pointing out the hypocrisy.
"The audience makes all the difference..." Logan smiled into her cleavage before planting a kiss there.
She frowned at his Piz slight, but as his thumbs stroked the sides of her face, all thoughts but one seemed to leave her head. "You and your magic hands are not going to be satisfied until I spontaneously combust like a Spinal Tap drummer, and all that's left of me is a little puddle of green goo."
He pressed his lips to hers, kissing her deep and long, and nearly stealing her breath away. "You're the sexiest puddle of green goo I've ever been with," he told her with a smirk before nipping at her bottom lip.
"Ouch." Veronica ran her hands over the top of his head and ruffled his hair."Why is there always a little pain with my pleasure wherever you're involved, Logan?"
"What would pleasure be if it were not accompanied by crime?" he said, responding with a quote.
Veronica's forehead creased. "Who said that?"
Logan smoothed out the wrinkle with his thumb and kissed her there. "You're better off not knowing."
He was nothing if not audacious, and throughout their long and twisted relationship, he'd made almost a career of seeing how far he could push her boundaries before she'd drop the iron gate on his hand. The truth was, she rarely did. He had a way of talking her into almost anything, though her resolve was so weak where he was concerned that all it ever took was a little shove.
But, she never thought he'd be able to push her into cheating.
"Please tell me that wasn't the Marquis de Sade," she said with a light chuckle.
"Would it turn you on or off if I said yes?" Logan whispered darkly into her navel and then dragged his tongue slowly down her light blonde happy trail.
Veronica sighed. "You're a moron."
He looked up and grinned. "I'm pretty sure we established that a few minutes ago, and yet, here you are."
Fingers tangled themselves lazily in his mop of hair and her eyes rolled back into her head as he buried his face between her bent knees.
"Shit..." She growled into the side of her pillow as he attended to her lower half with gusto.
Without warning, tears began to prick the corners of her eyes as her pleasure built. She loved Logan. Of course she did. And while she knew in her bones that no one else would ever approach making her feel the way he did, she wasn't his. Not technically, anyway.
Her breathing became shallow as desire pooled in her belly, but all she could think of was the promise she was breaking, along with the heart of the nicest boy she'd ever known. Like a game of emotional tug-of-war, pleasure and pain fought it out on a flesh battleground.
Veronica knew she was out of control. She felt like junkie. She was just like her mother.
Her climax hit and she gripped his hair tightly as shock waves of bliss tore through her at a fast rate. She called out his name and cursed it repeatedly as her high wore off and reality hit her in the face like a glass ashtray.
And then the rebound hit.
She released her tight grip on Logan's hair and buried her face into her hands, in an attempt to muffle her hiccuped sobs.
Logan looked up at her with an expression of sheer panic. "What's wrong?" he asked as he quickly hovered over her, stroking her hair as he kissed her temple again and again.
Veronica couldn't believe he was asking her this. Sure, Logan sometimes had trouble seeing outside of himself, but he couldn't possibly be so tone deaf to her situation that he had to ask. Her wet eyes glowed with intensity as she searched his face for humanity.
She telepathically begged him to have a conscience, so she wouldn't have to feel even worse for loving him and betraying her own code, if that were even possible.
"Is this about...Piz?" he asked, a frown crossing his face as suddenly as the name spilled from his lips.
She sighed with relief and would have even smiled if she hadn't caught herself first. What does that say about her, if her guilt over Piz could be erased in a flash with a small acknowledgment of morality by her illicit lover? The irony was as cruel as she was.
Veronica nodded and was promptly swept up into a pair of strong arms that she couldn't help but melt into. "I know he's a good guy, Veronica, but he really should've known better," Logan said, amazingly managing to utter something so cold with genuine empathy.
Her forehead knitted with worry as she grabbed the sides of his face. "How could he, when I didn't?"
Logan leaned in and pressed his forehead against hers. "You should have known better, too."
She nodded slightly, her expression pained. "Why can't I stop loving you?"
Logan pulled away from her as if she'd burned him, his wounded eyes desperate for some kind of reassurance she wasn't sure she had it in her to give. Giving it to him would be as good as admitting she was a rotten apple that had fallen directly next to her mother's fetid tree.
"Why do you want to?" he asked in a small voice. She could tell this was crushing him.
"I can't...I just can't be...her! I won't be, because if I'm her, then you're just like him. I refuse to turn you into Jake Kane." she said, through gritted teeth.
Logan grabbed handfuls of his own hair and tugged lightly. "Are you fucking kidding me with this?" he asked, exploding in anger, flinging a pillow across the room. "You're nothing like Lianne, Veronica. She's a sad drunk in love with a married man. I'm not married and you're no addict!"
"I'm addicted to you," she said quietly, with a shrug. "In a lot of ways we're just like them. We've hurt so many people, Piz is just the latest. I mean, what you did to his face is nothing compared to what I'm doing to him right now."
Choking back his own tears now, Logan crouched over her and grabbed her by the shoulders, pulling her face inches from his own. "Piz is nothing."
She recoiled. "How can you say that? How can you be so selfish?"
His face twisted into a scowl. "Piz is nothing. There's you and there's me and all of the other crap, all of the other people, they mean nothing."
"Duncan means nothing? Parker and Hannah meant nothing?" Veronica challenged.
He nodded. "People come and go Veronica, but what we have will always be there, long after they're gone. These other people are just pit stops, but we are the destination," he insisted, while grappling for her hands and then tightly holding them between both of his. "Don't you get it? If there were a word that meant something stronger than love, that's what I would feel for you. They haven't invented word for what we have, but you know what it means because you feel the same way. I'll never understand why you always insist on fighting it. Why can't you just let everything go and be with me?" he asked, his eyes practically burning through her as emotion choked his every word.
"Because it never works with us," she said, shaking her head sadly. "We're too volatile, and what we keep doing to other people, Logan...it's wrong! How can what we have be so good if we're constantly ruining other people's lives with it? It's not healthy how we feel about each other, and you know it!" she snapped, and disentangled herself from his grasp. "One of us has to be the one to say it: we don't work, and we're just hurting ourselves every time we try."
"Oh, you're leaving again? What a shock," Logan snarled. "The reason it never fucking works, Veronica, is because you actually have to BE here for it to work. You actually have to 'work' at it for it to work. That's why it's called 'work'!" He threw his arms in the air in resign.
"If what we have is so amazing, ask yourself if you're happy? Are you? Do you like who you are when you're with me?" Veronica asked, as she leapt out of his bed and began to yank her clothes on clumsily.
"Do I like who I am when I'm with you?" Logan repeated in monotone before laughing to himself. "I don't even know who I am when I'm not with you." His body went limp and he flopped backward onto the mattress in surrender.
Veronica wiped a tear from her eye and took one last look at the love of her life. "Yeah, me either. That's kind of the problem," she said flatly, and walked out of the door.
Time is on my side, yes it is
Time is on my side, yes it is
Veronica's eyes flipped open, giving her a view of the concrete ceiling above her. At least the lights were on this time.
Now you always say
That you want to be free
But you'll come running back (you said you would baby)
You'll come running back (I said so many times before)
You'll come running back to me
She rolled her eyes in the direction of the loud speakers and sighed. These guys were amateurs where psychological torture was concerned, but she was having a little bit of trouble conjuring her 'safe place' right now. In fact, her safe place was about the last thing she wanted to think about at the moment. Thinking about Logan wasn't comforting, it made her ache to be with him, which only made being here worse.
When she walked out on Logan all those years ago, she truly thought she was doing them both a big favor. Maybe in the long run, life will prove that she did, but it definitely came at a high price to both of them. She knows he suffered greatly when she left, but she can't help but feel she's making him suffer even more right now. The idea that she brought him right back onto this roller coaster ride with her again, is starting to make her feel sick to her stomach. Of course, that feeling might just be the 500 drug-laced pierogies she's been given over the past few days.
Veronica rose to her feet and began to pace the room. "What you don't know..." she began talking to the kidnappers on the other side of the speakers. "...is that The Stones are my dad's favorite band. Once you've spent a whole year listening to 'Jumping Jack Flash' over and over again, nothing is annoying. Nothing."
The door jerked open and Katya sheepishly entered the room, dressed in an emerald green cocktail dress and towering stilettos, as per usual her usual uniform.
"Why are they still doing this?" Veronica asked angrily, pointing to the speaker. "I gave them what they wanted. They can't at least rotate a few Beatles songs in there to mix it up, already?"
"Ronja," she whispered, fear evident in her eyes, "They have response from Orion."
Veronica turned around and tilted her head quizzically. "What did it say?"
"I haven't read," Katya told her. Handing her a slip of paper, she watched for her reaction.
"Poseidon's Pen really outdid himself with his latest story. Already has 63 'likes' and it hasn't even been a week. People do love their smut," she joked nervously before reading the note aloud:
"My love, this chapter was excellent. They've all have been excellent since your stories came into my life. I love how the princess really grew as a person, and I thought this made the ordeal she went through completely worth it. Hopefully, her story will come full circle in the end."
She turned to Katya and translated. "He says he and his daughter are doing really well and that she's growing up quickly."
Veronica cleared her throat and continued.
"If you're interested in other fairy tales for comparison, you should really check out the latest book by that author we both used to love. The story is about a donkey who built these magical, rose colored glasses, that actually enable him to see himself as a prince, rather than the lowly donkey he really is. In fact, these glasses help him view anything he wants in a better light than it actually is. In the first chapter, the donkey takes an actual historical event and alters it, painting himself as the hero in order to win the hand of the fairest maiden. The whole tale reads like a desperate LoVe note. Hopefully, you'll read with a critical eye instead of being swept away by the magic, as you tend to do."
Katya looked at Veronica with confusion. "What does all of that mean?"
"Logan is the donkey," she said and smirked at the letter. "Basically it says that he resents Logan, hates the book he wrote for me, he calls him a liar, and then he warns me not to be taken in by his evil charms. Can you feel the love?" she rolled her eyes, which gave Katya a laugh.
"Your boyfriend lie to you?" she asked with concern.
Veronica shook her head. "Logan doesn't lie to me. He may be have been guilty of not telling me things in the past, but he has never lied to my face. That, ironically, is Orion's territory," she said before turning her attention back to the letter.
"I live to read your updates, though perhaps I will be able to read your entire story in one sitting soon. Your know that your work continues to inspire me, and I'd like you to know that I've been doing a little work of my own. I'm just around the corner from being done. I know it's probably crazy for me to think you're still waiting around to read it, but I can't help but hope. You know what I always say: 'True love stories never have endings'."
"Oh God," Veronica sighed and clutched the print-out to her chest. Feeling a little lightheaded, she reminded herself that breathing was required to remain upright.
"Orion, he love you, I think. I decode your secret language, no?" Katya asked with a twinkle in her eye.
"Da. That was a love note alright. Shit," she said with a rough exhale. "What is he thinking?"
"You know what he thinking. All men think this way," Katya said while twisting her hands in concentration as she struggled to remain balanced on the uneven concrete in her death trap shoes. "They tell me he in Oregon right now."
Veronica closed her eyes and brought her fingers to the bridge of her nose then pinched hard. "Oregon? Please tell me there's a city called Oregon in Greenland."
"Nyet, Ronja. They trace IP. Orion in United States," she said, breaking the news sadly to her prisoner.
The petite PI was horrified. How could Duncan be in the USA? Was he insane? What was the point of risking her entire career and her freedom if he was just planning on throwing it all away?
"And Orion's daughter?" Veronica asked hopefully. "Is she with her father?" She crossed everything on her body that she could and prayed hard that Lilly was safe and sound in some far off locale.
"I'm so sorry," she whispered quickly. "We won't know until they bring them here."
"Awesome," she hissed to herself bitterly. Veronica tightened her jaw as well as her resolve and locked eyes with her possible ally. "You've been so nice to me. I know you're only doing this because they're making you."
Katya's knees buckled slightly but she easily recovered. "Nobody making me do anything, Ronja, it my job." she said as her eyes furtively zipped to the speakers and back.
"I can't believe Duncan is here in the States. This is all my fault," she sighed into her hands. "Have you ever done something you really regret, Katya?" she questioned, suspecting she wasn't the only sinner present.
The statuesque Ukrainian looked at her feet then straight down into Veronica's eyes. "You know I have. Of course I have."
A/N – Okay, the cavalry is mobilizing in the next chapter, so you should get your LoVe fix soon enough. Until then, you'll have to settle for some more MaDi. I know this chapter was full of melodrama, but the reunion wouldn't be as satisfying if it were easy, right? Please review!
