Disclaimer is in chapter one.
A/N I know I don't say this a lot anymore, but thank you to the precious few that deem my story and hard work worthy of a review. They're the reason I still post on this site where reviewing seems to be going out of style. Thank you! Also, kind of proud of this chapter, it's way better than the original that upon further inspection was nothing short of horrible. Tell me if you think the same, please.
Drunkenness And An Untold Secret
Lynne Echolls and Lily Kane stood immobile in the doorway to the grand suite at the Grande hotel where Veronica now lived. Their expressions were a twin set of pure sheepishness as they slowly took in the rather unbelievable sight in front of them.
No sound was made or heard as the two deceased women just tried taking everything in.
Finally, the dead Lynne turned her head to glare down at the shorter and equally as dead girl beside her. Lily felt the glare and sighed, unable to look away from what had captured her attention so thoroughly.
"Okay, okay, Mrs. Echolls," she said quietly, ignoring the need to clench her teeth in frustration, "I think it's obvious, but I need to point out that I did not think this would be the outcome of my little ultimatum…"
When no reply came, the blonde forced her bravery forth and dared to gaze up at the taller woman. She immediately wished she hadn't when her eyes locked on Lynne's sneering visage.
"That's completely right, Lily; you didn't think!" Lynne seemed to lose the ability to form further coherent sentences as she angrily continued, "What…how did your sick little mind….Well, didn't you realize that those two in there are the most stubborn…I mean, didn't you just…?"
Lily pouted and wished, not for the first time that her partner in crime was male so said pout would actually be able to work as an anger detergent. With another sigh, Lily settled on simply avoiding the older woman's spluttering scolding while her eyes slowly drifted back to the room and the people in it as though it was completely impossible to keep her eyes off of them for too long.
"Well, to be fair," Lily whispered after another silent moment of disbelief-filled gawking, "I really really didn't think they'd go this far…"
Without another word, the eldest Kane sibling gestured to the massive room in front of them. Usually, the suite that Logan lived in…well, Veronica to be more exact, was immaculate. Flush with elegance and it pretty much screamed money.
Now, it more or less looked like it had been hit by a tornado that had dropped about ten people down to party hard.
In the middle of all that unusual mess was a woman trapped in a man's body, who was bent awkwardly into a fetal position with a half-empty bottle of Jack Daniel's gently cradled in her arms against her naked masculine chest.
But…that wasn't the worst of it.
Lily barely managed to resist the sudden urge to giggle with shock and incomprehension. Her expression turned vaguely thoughtful a moment later. "I didn't think it was quite possible to lie in the fetal position upside down.
The statement once again caused the two women to look over at the inhabitants of the suite. Veronica Mars was currently twisted into the before-mentioned position with her head firmly planted down on the soft carpet on the floor and her butt leaned up against the big reddish couch.
Lynne at that point in time, apparently began to see some humor in all of it, because she gave a sound, which vaguely reminded Lily of a blend between chuckle and a snort before she mutely pointed at her transformed son's form.
Logan Echolls was usually the epiphany of cool…well, not in that precise moment – and let's just skip over the fact, that he was currently in his wife's teenaged body, shall we?
At that particular moment, the former male was laying on the glass coffee-table evidently using an empty bottle of Vodka as a pillow. To make matters worse, there was an unbelievable amount of drool dripping from his mouth on to the table and from there down on to the carpeted floor.
There was another heavy moment of silence before Lynne finally relinquished the remainder of her anger to laugh wholeheartedly when Lily eagerly pointed at the funniest part of it all.
Logan Echolls, a man who'd always taken pride in his own masculinity and nurtured it was currently wearing a black bra and a pink thong and not much else.
Lily and Lynne looked at each other when their laughter finally died back down. Lynne wiped away a few tears of honest mirth. "Well," she said more calmly, "let's wake them up and let them deal with what happened without any more of your genius contributions, okay?"
Sighing for what felt like the nth time, Lily sent an annoyed glare up at the taller woman, who'd apparently hadn't quite forgiven Lily for going rogue. Naturally, she quickly stopped glaring when Lynne's returning stare turned practically demonic in its evilness.
"Fine, fine," Lily groaned, "but I'm just putting it out there that it won't go down peacefully. I mean, Veronica never told anyone from their time except her hot dad and now…well, Logan finding out like he did isn't exactly prime conditions for their trust to develop and—"
Rudely, at least if one asked the Kane girl, Lynne unceremoniously grabbed hold of her shoulder and to stop her from talking. Then she snapped her fingers loudly in the direction of the two seemingly comatose people in the suite.
Just before Lynne and Lily disappeared in a silent gust of wind, Lynne merely stated that she had to have hopes that they'd act their age for once and that nothing would ever be accomplished if they weren't left alone to talk…
0o0o0
Logan moaned and then moaned when that sound nearly killed him and almost moaned a third time before he recognized the symptoms.
I'm hungover…damn, that's not a feeling I've missed.
Taking a deep breath, Logan slowly began to sit up without opening his eyes all the while. A plop suddenly sounded and he felt something fall off of his moist cheek and down onto something with a loud reverberating clang that made the former male wince in both physical and mental agony.
A sound that mostly sounded like a growl erupted from somewhere nearby as though to complain about the abrupt noise escalation and Logan finally decided to brave the light to open one eye a crack, trying to seek out its origin.
At the unexpected sight before him, Logan hurriedly opened the other eye, no longer caring about the stabbing pain from the windows. He just really needed to check and make sure he wasn't in the middle of some kind of weird delirium.
"What the…?" he muttered hoarsely, futilely trying to get his brain to compute what his eyes were seeing.
Veronica looked like she'd tumbled from the couch during the night and normally the first thing Logan would have done was burst out laughing, but somehow he felt as though he'd forgotten something important.
Something really important.
What the hell happened last night? The pained man thought with rising desperation while rubbing his hair. A few seconds later, Logan looked down and realized he wasn't exactly dressed to impress himself and jumped off the table, which he had no idea why he had been sleeping on in the first place in the search for some much needed clothes.
It took a little while, but eventually, Logan discovered the jeans he'd found to be a favorite of Veronica's (and him after their body swap, but he'd never admit it). He barely managed to pull them on before a sudden wave of nausea washed over him and he had to sit down.
"Aargh."
The pained exclamation came from the equally hungover Veronica and even in the midst of his own mental battle to not throw up; Logan couldn't deny that felt a twisted sense of justice. At least I'm not the only one suffering for once.
Veronica sat up gingerly, looking extremely uncomfortable as her long limbs were put into a more normal position. After a few very painful-sounding cracks, she very carefully turned her head around to look for him.
There was a look of worry on her face that confounded Logan even as he continued waiting silently for her to finally spot him down on the floor where he was only just winning the battle over his own hangover's symptoms.
When Veronica's look of worry didn't falter, Logan sighed heavily. He mentally sent out a query to his mother, half-hoping she'd pop by to give him some very much needed answers. What the hell happened last night?
Veronica turned her head an inch further toward him and finally located him. In the next moment, their eyes locked and then in a flash, Logan remembered exactly what had happened to land them in their current situation.
Veronica had somehow forced him to agree to meet up in the Grande with a prepared mind and what not.
Not even five minutes after his arrival Veronica had planted him in the couch and told him they were going to have sex so they could return to their normal lives and live happily ever after.
End of story.
They'd argued back and forward before Veronica disappeared into the room that had so briefly belonged to Duncan before she re-emerged with enough booze to kill an elephant in her arms.
Twice.
"Let's drink enough so we can have sex and then hopefully not remember anything about it when it's over."
Logan eyed the alcohol and wanted to quip something about underaged drinking and possible performance issues, but didn't get the chance before Veronica practically ordered him to follow her into the living room area of the suite.
That's when things got interesting.
A couple of hours later, Veronica and Logan sat on the floor with alcohol spread out all around them and a deck of cards in front of them.
"Your turn to pick a card," Veronica slobbered drunkenly and pointed at him. Logan squinted in an attempt to see which of the two decks before him was the real one and plunged.
"Ha, Ace of Spades!" He announced his findings in triumph.
Veronica grumbled and looked down at her bare feet and over at her discarded sweatshirt.
Logan smirked without mercy while pointing at her t-shirt, "I got the high card and you have to loose a clothing item. Them's the rules, Mars. Now go on or be forever labeled a chicken."
Scowling, Veronica finally removed her t-shirt and sat bare-chested in front of him. "You'll be next," she threatened and drew a card from the rather ruffled-looking pile between them.
Fifteen minutes later, the drunken couple decided they were not only drunk enough, but also naked enough for mature relations.
S-E-X
Veronica took a big gulp of whiskey and made a face at the taste before braving the awkwardness to ask a question that was pretty essential.
"So…how are we gonna do this without vomiting? 'Cause I gotta tell you, I'm not gonna perform cunnilingus on you a.k.a. my own body…"
The image the statement formed in Logan's mind was abnormally funny and he snorted a laugh before emptying the last of the Vodka in his current bottle and wiped his mouth to speak.
"Good point, Sugarpuss and while we're on the subject, don't expect me to suck you like a lollipop, 'cause that's just gross."
The look of disgust on Logan sent Veronica into a very unmanly set of giggles. "This has got to be the weirdest conversation ever."
Logan nodded in agreement and, not knowing what else to say then tried to take another chug from his already emptied bottle.
Unceremoniously, Veronica hit it out of his hands before he even got the chance to mourn the lack of alcohol.
"Let's just do it the normal way," she exclaimed decisively, "I mean ,we've been married a long time so the sex thing shouldn't be too foreign, especially for you…"
Logan frowned at the not so hidden jibe and shakily got to his feet. "Look here Missy," he tried to growl, ignoring that it sounded more like a slurred groan than anything else, "I'm not going into the whole Madison thing again. Nothing happened and I won't say it again, so just get naked and let's finish this and get the hell out of here."
Veronica nodded after a long while, looking as if she wanted nothing more but to remind him of the countless bimbos he'd slept with during their separation, but fortunately for Logan's repressed guilt she didn't bring it up.
The nodding however did seem to make her even dizzier and before he could do much of anything, she fell forward in a complete show of gracelessness.
It took the very drunk transformed woman a lot of difficult finagling, but she eventually managed to get back up where she then closed her eyes and pouted her lips exaggeratedly.
Logan stood there for a long minute in utter silence before he dumbly asked a very important question. "Whatcha doing, Veronica?"
Frowning, Veronica opened one eye. She unpuckered her lips to respond with an air of annoyance as if he truly was a moron for not getting with the program.
"I'm waiting for the kissing to start so we can get this morbid show on the road. D'uh."
"Oh," Logan said slowly, "that makes sense." In the next second, he leaned forward and crashed his lips toward her, but in his intoxicated state, he somehow forgot that Veronica's original body was much shorter than his own and as such, ended up slamming his forehead into Veronica's male chin.
"Aw, damn, darnit, doodly!"
Veronica exploded with laughter, pointing mockingly at him while gently rubbing the chin with her other hand. "Who died and made you Ned Flanders all of the sudden?"
Logan tried to use one of his good- for- nothing father's Death Glares, but it didn't seem to work as Veronica simple walked over and grabbed his head and kissed him. Not even two seconds later, did the duo pull apart and, in a rare show of cooperation, both start wiping their mouths frantically.
After a while of their frantic behavior, Logan raised a hand and spoke. "If I may make a suggestion? Let's forget about the kissing part, since that's just disturbing in so many ways and just get on with the humping of each other…"
Veronica happily agreed and pulled off her pants and gestured for him to do the same.
"Who's gonna be on top?" The question left Logan's mouth without knowing just how much of a debate it would cause. It took another thirty minutes of intense discussion for them to decide and Veronica to finish their argument with a whoop of victory.
"Lay down pretty girl," she smirked nastily, not showing one ounce of tenderness and Logan literally fell down on the couch unable to move as a hint of fear started sending shivers down his spine.
Not one to ever let fear stop him from making bad decisions, Logan fumbled with his underwear; a garishly pink thong he'd only worn to mock Veronica for owning in the first place.
Out of the corner of his eye, and completely ignoring the flaming cheeks he knew he was sporting, Logan noticed how curiously Veronica was eyeing his every movement.
"That is so weird," she proclaimed and then turned her attention to her own new appendage. A moment later, she was holding her soon-to-be ex-husband's former length in her hand and added weakly, "and this is so so much weirder."
"Tell me about it," Logan agreed, trying to make even a little bit of his mind enjoy his oncoming experience and not succeeding one bit
Ten minutes went by with a very detailed conversation on just how odd it was that it was weird, since they'd seen it all before and finally Veronica simply placed herself on top of him and spread his legs, only to hesitate.
"Come on, Bobcat, get it over with…it can't be that hard…hehe, I'm funny!" Logan gasped out a laugh, only to stop abruptly when Veronica merely glared down at him like he truly was the stupidest person on the planet.
"It's not exactly easy being on this end. Believe it or not, I don't find it easy to get the equipment into a full working condition, you know…" Veronica looked down and Logan followed her eyes to see that Veronica was in fact anything but ready to begin penetrating him.
"Oh," he muttered uncomfortably, feeling odd. His body wasn't responding to Veronica's and it was a fact that had probably never happened and as such, Logan hadn't expected it despite their unusual circumstances.
"Well," Logan continued, trying to act as if the whole thing wasn't creeping him out, "just, you know, make it hard and let's get on with the show. You know what to do and let's be honest here for a second, it's not like you haven't had a lot of opportunities to test your new merchandise since our arrival, right?"
Veronica looked completely affronted and momentarily seemed to forget her performance troubles as she stared down at him. "No, I haven't been touching myself and 'testing the merchandise', Logan!" Her look of offence slowly morphed into horror. "Did you? I mean, did you…? It's my body, Logan!"
Logan rolled his eyes, ignoring the dizziness that came with the movement. "For your information, I haven't gotten off since coming back here. My mom's real anal about respecting your body or something like that."
Veronica looked vaguely ill and Logan briefly worried she'd throw up on him before it seemed like she regained control of herself. "Don't talk about your mother right now, okay?"
The two time travelers looked at each other for a second, before simultaneously shuddering in revulsion.
A moment later, Veronica got back to business. She began touching herself, trying to get an erection and ever so slowly it seemed to work. It wasn't made any easier by Logan's continuous snickering beneath her.
"Stop laughing," she ordered harshly, you should be doing the same thing. Take if from someone, who knows, intercourse isn't exactly pleasurable when the so called woman isn't properly prepared so if you don't mind…?"
Logan snorted and almost fell off the sofa in the process. "Look Ronnie, I know it's not completely true as of this moment, but," he grinned drunkenly, "not only am I drunk as hell and as such pretty numb, but, I'm a guy at heart and we don't whimper and wail due to a little bit of pain, so get on with it and let's go home."
Slowly the still very intoxicated female nodded and then they did get on with it. In the back of her mind, she sent up thanks for teenage stamina, knowing from experience that it would've been a lot more difficult to get hard if she'd been in Logan's future body, even with all his experience of sleeping around while drunk.
"Holy Cow, watch what you're doing, you…" Logan all but screamed as soon as Veronica finished inching her way inside.
"Ups, did it hurt? You're gonna whimper now?" Veronica asked and looked closely at him, ignoring the tiny part of her that hated what they were doing. She hated the pained grimace Logan couldn't quite hold back.
Logan looked over at the coffee table and reached out for a half of bottle of unconsumed alcohol left forgotten during their earlier debate. Without a word, he gulped down another few pain numbing drops and then gestured for her to continue.
Eager to get it all over with, Veronica began to cautiously thrust. The whole experience wasn't enjoyable. It was too strange a feeling to be buried inside the moist tightness that she'd only ever felt through her own fingers. The new sensations were sending mixed signals to her brain and while her body seemed to enjoy the physical aspect of intercourse, Veronica's mind was screaming for it to be over soon.
Fortunately, seeing as she hadn't done it before and was currently drunk as well, her stamina was nowhere near what Logan's usually was and she felt the very peculiar sensation of an oncoming orgasm within a few minutes.
Logan lay immobile beneath her, watching her every move. It seemed as if he could read her just as well as he could in her old body, because suddenly, he simply ordered her to finish already.
Veronica immediately pulled out with an almost incoherent hiss. "It's happening. Oh my God, ew ew…oh…"
Ten minutes later found Veronica sitting on the couch dressed in her pants again. She was in the middle of a deep and mute conversation with her nearly empty whiskey bottle. Logan was sitting on top of the class table with his own, still bottle. Unlike Veronica, he wasn't silent. He was repeating over and over how he would never touch a woman again because sex was bad for the poor things, so very bad.
After a while they couldn't ignore the other anymore and finally looked at each other. The tension skyrocketed as their memories instantly began replaying their newest bout of sex, blocking out all the other times in their lives where it had been anything but bad.
"So," Logan asked tiredly, not as drunk anymore as he'd hoped to be after the whole ordeal. "When are we gonna go home, my sweet and gentle lover?"
Veronica snorted, leaning back into the pillows of the couch. Her reply was an audible representation of exhaustion that bordered on despair. "I don't know, Logan…I don't know a lot of things to be honest."
Seeing his wife look so despondent hit a raw nerve inside Logan and he fought back a yawn even as he lay down on the glass table fully. He didn't care that he was barely dressed, too tired and admittedly too sore to move much.
"Well," he tried cheering up the gloomy former female even as he closed his eyes to rest, "I bet you're looking forward to going home and start reliving your happy not-with-Logan-life again. You probably had the time of your freaking life without me back in the future, right?"
Logan heard Veronica laugh a spine chillingly cynical laugh and tried opening his heavy eyelids unsuccessfully when she replied in a bitter tone.
"Oh yeah, I was super happy. My child died, my husband screwed around and I went through breast cancer all by my lonesome. Now that was fun times, let me tell you…"
Already more or less unconscious, Logan did manage to lift his head a fraction of an inch before the remaining alcohol in his system finally knocked him out completely.
"Huh?"
Veronica blinked and broke their locked eye contact. Logan shook his head to clear the memory from it and instantly wished he hadn't moved as a fresh round of nausea returned with a vengeance. He must have looked extremely ill because next thing he knew, Veronica had grabbed the turned over fruit bowl that had somehow ended up on the floor during their escapades and handed it to Logan.
Logan barely managed to take it out of her hands before he violently emptied his stomach into it.
A few moments later, unable to force anything else out of his system, Logan looked up with agony etched on every part of his face. Unable to do anything coherent, he merely repeated what he'd asked the previous night.
"Huh?"
0o0o0
TBC..