Veronica parks the car in front of her apartment and unclips her seatbelt. Instead of getting out, we sit, waiting for the inevitable, the unspoken. The streetlights ricochet scattered dull beams across her troubled face. Her fingers are temporarily illuminated as they rise one by one to tap on the steering wheel, bordering on irritating.
I shift restlessly in the seat.
The only one immune to this awkwardness settling between us is Hollow, laying against the rear seats, snoring. Oblivious.
"Okay, I think this needs to happen now," I begin.
Veronica takes a few more taps of the wheel, and I glare at her hand.
"So, have you had a chance to think...about everything?" I try for an easy smile, but I feel the strain on my lips. Asking a question when you know the answer could be the beginning of your end is more difficult in reality than in theory. Her 'no' would break me into a million pieces, in a million ways. I would never recover.
But my question brings an immediate, resolute response from her, eyes locked with mine, "You know my answer, Logan."
"Do I? I need you to say it, Veronica, out loud ."
I hold my breath.
"Logan, my answer has always been that I want to do this. I want to be with you. Nothing has changed for me at all." She answers directly, blue eyes finding mine, pale in the evening light.
I freeze. Unsure of what to do next, like I'd forgotten the sequence of events that might follow this kind of declaration. I'd waited for so long for the answer, for this answer, I felt relief crash through me and let a smile crease my cheeks.
"Good." Is all I can muster in my internal elation, so I reach out, taking Veronica's hand in mine, lacing our fingers together again in this dry setting. They feel just as good, just as warm, just like home.
"I want to do this too," I add.
"Are you sure?" Her small hand squeezes mine for reassurance, I squeeze back.
"I'm sure, just as long as you're fully aware that I'm still me. I'm going to do stupid shit inevitably, and I'm going to piss you off."
"You piss me off now, what's the difference?" she says with a smile.
We sit quietly for a moment.
"Well, thank fuck for that," she says exhaling, I can see her shoulders release like a weight is lifted and I feel some of my own weight lift too.
I roll my thumb over hers, staring at her hands, "I thought about you every day. Every morning when I woke up, every night I went to sleep, and I realized, why am I fighting against the only thing in the world that I want?"
"That's a great question. But seriously, you need to go easy on yourself. We're in this together, we'll ride the chaos together, right?"
I nod.
"You realize all the reasons you hate yourself are just some of the reasons I love you?"
"You're weird," I reach out and brush her hair behind her ear, focusing on her lips, watching the way they move, excited by the rush that comes from knowing I will touch them in seconds.
"And that's just one of the reasons I love you," I whisper in a frayed breath.
Fingers infused with the lemon scent of Keith's dish soap wrap the base of my skull. She pulls me into her, lips against mine, slowly, lazily bringing them together time after time, controlled and careful, a reconciliation. Her hands drop to my neck, each kiss growing deeper and deeper until a tongue peeks its way in, I'm not even sure if it's mine, or it's hers, and with it, all control is lost.
I can feel every thrum and shiver of Veronica's body against mine. I burn for her. A fierce flame that pulls me towards her. I can't look away. Fingers clutch resolute, exploring the soft contours of her. Making up for lost time, growing faster and more hurried as they track across, the anticipation of her before me blurring any judgment. I would dream about this every night in my bunk. I knew it would be good.
I could never dream it would be like this.
One minute she is beside me, the next she is on top, straddling my hips, pressing against me. With increased momentum, her thighs rub against me. Cock roaring, pulsing, strained against my jeans as I delved my hands into her shirt, sharing intermingled breaths and sloppily undoing her bra, tracing the mounds beneath. Her mouth hot and unrelenting, communicating a suppressed craving, suddenly permitted.
"Logan," she stops, pulling her lips off mine, they're only an inch away now, but it feels like miles. Kissing her hadn't alleviated my thirst whatsoever, it had only made it worse.
"Hmmm," is the only response I can muster.
"As lovely as this is and as astonishing that it is that you or I don't have some form of PTSD from our previous vehicular rendezvous, we are not teenagers hiding from parents, dry-humping. I am too old to fuck you in the car, in front of a dog."
"Okay, well, we need to get inside, now ."
The three of us exit the car in a frenzy and sprint the stairs, Veronica locks Hollow in the laundry, I wait for her by the door. Impatiently.
The second it's closed I spin her to face me in the darkness, forehead against forehead, I tickle down her spine, closing in.
"Veronica Mars," I whisper.
"Logan Echolls."
"Are you ready? Five months without you. I've got serious time to make up here, and I intend to do each and every thing to you that I imagined while I was gone."
My face against hers, I trace her bottom lip with my tongue, tasting her. She grinds herself into me, lust in her eyes. Her hand rolls over the excruciating bulge in my pants as she nibbles at my neck, "Such as?"
I take the bottom of her shirt and inch it over her head, her bra still unstrapped from earlier drops to the floor. Her exposed breasts and hardened nipples before me.
"First, I'm going to taste every part of you, because I dreamt of your skin," I drop to my knees, hard. Like I'm worshipping at her alter.
This can't be real.
She can't be real.
I take her nipple in my mouth, gently swirling, her back falls against the wall as I suck at the hardened bud. She burrows into my hair, fingernails raking. I shift my attention to the other nipple, leaving the first wet, peaked. She thrusts her hips towards me and I unbutton her jeans and slide them off her hips, leaving her lace underwear on. I smooth my hands over her thighs, bare and radiating heat. Black lace panties were but a decoration, a meagre scrap of material. I lean down and taste her through them, and she tastes so fucking good. Fingers pull at the flimsy material and insert themselves into her sultry wetness. I might just die, right outside Veronica's laundry room door.
But I would die happy.
I can hear her begging, "Please," she keens closer and I drag my finger deep inside, coaxing her wet deliciousness. But I need a proper taste.
"I said every part of you," I reply, parting her legs gently and replacing my finger with my tongue and zealously lapping at her silky folds, slipping my tongue back, letting it sample every morsel.
Fingernails delve harder into my scalp, pushing me further. Fingers slip back, first one, then two, hovering at her entrance before burrowing inside, over and over again. My lips suck her clit, unrelenting. I listen to the sounds of her breathing, the stepping stones of her arousal. We're nearing the last jump, I can tell.
"God, Logan!" she moans. My raging desire for her amplified tenfold when she rocks against me, clutching at my head. Her cries tumble in the darkness and I try not to lose myself in the sound as she clenches my fingers inside her walls, again and again. I don't want it to end, happy to sacrifice my knees to the cause, my entire body.
As the throws subside, she takes my ears, gently dragging me back to standing, back against her, against the laundry door.
"That was even better than I imagined," I whisper. Her eyes flutter open as I reach her face and she kisses me, tasting herself on my tongue.
I can hear the dog stalking back and forth behind the door, pacing, surely concerned about the noises coming from his owner on the other side.
"I think we need to relocate before we traumatize Hollow forever," I say, lifting her by her ass, legs wrapping my torso, heels hooking behind and stumbling into the bedroom in the darkness. She yields and melds herself around me, her face buried in my neck, breath feathery in my hair.
Veronica scrabbles at my clothes, trying to scratch them off, unzipping my fly and running her hands across my chest, kissing my stomach. She slowly takes my length in her hands and slides it up and down in her fingers. A finger sweeps the tip, swirling the anticipation that remains there. I lift my hips off the bed, but bring her face back to mine, crushing our lips together and flip her beneath me. Reaching down beside the bed I find the small lamp and flick it on.
I need to see her.
The light shocks us and we squint against it, but it quickly settles and my eyes find hers. We pause, unblinking. Her exposed flesh beneath me in the light is my undoing. If losing oxygen at 45,000 feet didn't kill me, this surely will.
"You and me?" I ask, she nods, biting her lip before reaching down and taking me in her hand, she directs me into her.
I submerge myself in Veronica, she's like velvet, soft and warm. My weight on her, sinking us into the soft mattress as I slip in and out. Lips re-connect, tender and languorous and they don't break apart as time unspools before us.
Hands roam my back, my neck, through my hair, leaving an electric trail as we find our rhythm. I clasp the sheets in my hand, and she rolls her lips towards mine, she seems to be searching for something to grab, so I take her hand in mine, press it above her head and she squeezes it, hard.
The feeling starts to build, Veronica's moans grow more desperate, she breathes them into my mouth. I swallow her moans until I can swallow them no more, until they become ragged cries and she calls my name, thick and heavy and each and every muscle contracts around my cock.
Suddenly I'm living and dying all at once, my balls tighten and I feel the release spilling into her, white-hot flashes against my eyes and I close my eyes for the first time. Feeling myself collapse onto her, the relief is overwhelming.
Slowly we lapse back into reality, coming up for air in shaky breaths, from the pile of limp entangled limbs. I push my chest back up, cradle her jaw and dance kisses across her damp forehead. Blue eyes join mine and an intensity burns within them, making me see what she'd been saying.
She loves me.
Me.
I'm stirred at 4.30 am by the constant revolutions of Hollow circling his mat at the foot of the bed. He spins, settles for a moment, before getting back up, spinning again to find the sweet spot. I turn and watch Veronica beside me, even breaths falling from her mouth.
Try as I might, I can't find sleep again, time-zones fuck with you like that. An East to West time zone change is always particularly bad. So I rise and get dressed. Hollow rises with me, nails clicking on the tiles, following me into the kitchen. When I touch his leash, he goes from casual acquaintance to devoted cult follower in a heartbeat.
I lay towels on the leather seats and warn him to stay in his designated 'zone' before letting him jump into my BMW. We drive the few blocks to the beach, just as the sun is blooming on the horizon in radiant golds and flame reds. I take off my shoes and wander down the beach as Hollow barrels into the waves. The fine grains underfoot thread through my toes with each step, leaving deep prints in my wake.
My mind is clear, for the first time in months. I'm not worried, I'm not overanalyzing, I'm just breathing. In and out. The cool, salty air in my lungs and I'm relishing every second of it. I'm happy.
I stay until the sun has made its way well past the breaking waves. Hollow collapses beside me, tongue protruding long and wet from his mouth, sand sticking to his jowls. The clouds are already starting to dissipate, it's going to be a beautiful Californian winter's day.
We sneak back through the door and I drink in the sight of Veronica through hungry eyes. Sheets curl around her slight frame, bare shoulders exposed, and an avalanche of blonde hair covers her face and pillow. I climb in, resting on my arms above her.
"What is wrong with you?"
"Morning beautiful." I kiss her nose and nuzzle into her neck, "Sorry, I can't sleep. Jet lag, time zones. I waited for a few hours, but now I'm bored, and I want someone to play with."
She pulls me into her love nest and attempts to get me back to sleep.
"Logan, I'm tired. Someone kept me up all hours, insistent on pleasuring me until I collapsed. Not all of us can survive on three hours of sleep. Why don't you take Hollow for a walk?"
"Already did."
"Fine, make yourself useful and call in sick for me today," her voice raspy and sleepy.
"Really?"
"Yes, really."
"Well, if you're home. I'm having lunch with Josh and Leiha today, wanna come along?"
"Is this the same Josh you just spent months at sea with?"
I nod.
"Are you officially in a bromance?"
"I might be," I cross my fingers.
"Okay, I will go with you on one provision. You call into work sick for me, and you leave me alone to sleep for at least another hour." Her eyes close, settled on the idea.
"Deal. What do you want? Leprosy, Syphilis, explosive diarrhea, sex-induced psychosis?"
"Let's just go with a sore throat. They know it's bullshit anyway because everyone saw you in the office yesterday."
"Good point."
I tuck the blankets up and under her chin.
"Sweet dreams," I whisper as I close the door.
I browse Veronica's shelves and find a scrappy, high school edition of The Outsiders and flop onto the couch, quickly losing myself in the lives of the Greasers and Socs'. Somewhere around page 41 Johnny and Pony Boy fall asleep under the stars and my eyes start to drift with theirs.
I'm awoken by a soft mouth, tongue exploring, I mumble something and clutch a fistful of blonde hair between my fingers, awaking properly and returning the kiss. Scared to open my eyes, scared that it was all a dream, unbelieving that this was my truth now.
The kiss swiftly moves to feverish and audacious as my hands wake with the rest of me and find Veronica, wearing only a shirt, my shirt. Nothing else. I'm suddenly very awake and she pulls back and nestles into my lap.
"You should have been sleeping, in bed, with me, not on the couch."
"I should have," I answer back, a devilish glint in my eye. My hands roam to her ass, disappointed the groping had ceased so suddenly.
"I called in sick for you."
"Tell me, what malaise has incapacitated me today?"
"Sex induced mania."
"It's always better to keep it nearest to the truth."
"That was my reasoning."
"We better go," she peels herself away, trying to leave, but I pull her back in.
" You set up a morning playdate with your friend Mister, so don't blame me."
I groan releasing her reluctantly, cursing myself and my stupid grand plans. But before I get a chance to raise myself from the couch she spins on the spot, finger pointed at me.
"Before we go, I just want to clarify something..." She says, and her tone has shifted. She came to me as loving, yielding Veronica, and in a blink, she morphs to Veronica on the trail, a whiff of blood in the air. Her eyebrow cocks and she looks at me. Something is amiss and she must know what it is.
Now.
"So, are you going to tell me?"
"Tell you?" I think I know what she's asking, but I'm reluctant to dig my own hole.
Hands go to hips. She's not as scary as she thinks wearing no pants.
"What happened?"
Oh shit. That.
"But how…?" I start.
"Let me tell you what I know." She begins, and the pacing starts. Like, I'm being questioned as the accused.
"So you're delayed eleven days, no contact. So naturally, I'm curious. I look into news reports. Nothing 'official' stands out, but there is chatter on forums, chatter about Hornet groundings, chatter about the Carl Vinson. Undetermined reports. Then you come back and you tell me that all was fine, 'reasonably low stakes' were your words, but you didn't make eye contact. You pulled your hands into your sleeves. That's your tell, Echolls. Then, you take your shirt off and you have healing bruises across your chest, big ones, lines like a harness, two down the sides, one across the middle."
I stare at her, mouth agape.
"I was going to tell you."
"When?"
"Tomorrow?" I ask, wondering if it's the right answer.
The look on her face indicates that my answer was most definitely, the wrong one. She stands, waiting for the explanation.
"I lost oxygen on a flight. I lost some cognitive function and motor skills." I start, her face instantly falls, a flash of pain, like she expected something, but not this. She moves closer, takes my hand and nods at me to continue.
"As you can imagine, it's difficult to land like that, so it took a few tries. It wasn't great, the bruises are from the landing. They were worried about my loss of oxygen, I was confused, parts of me were numb. I ended up in the hospital onboard for a couple of days. Then, of course, they can't just let us climb back into planes like that. They needed to try and work out what was wrong."
She's back on me, tenderly touching my chest, hand resting on my heart.
"Jesus Logan, that must have been terrifying?"
I nod, "I couldn't remember how to land, I couldn't remember how to move, the only thing I could think of," I cup her face in my hand, her eyes welled, still worried, "was you."
A sad smile slides in through her concern.
"You're okay now?"
"Good as new."
This causes the sad smile to turn into a warm one, legs straddle me, hands wrap my neck and she burrows herself into me. Chest to chest.
Latched on, face beside my ear she whispers. "Honesty Logan."
I sigh.
"I know." The cornerstone to this working would be honesty.
"On both sides," I add.
"I know," she replies, voice small.
Josh is giving us the official tour, without giving us the ' official tour'. Leiha sits it out in favor of resting her feet and very pregnant belly on the couch, occasionally calling out to remind Josh of important features he's forgotten to show us. The little girls are following us around, hiding behind furniture, giggling. We're all playing the game, pretending we can't see their glaringly obvious hiding spots. Which makes them giggle all the more. Walking down the wide hallway, the oak floors squeaking underfoot, tiny feet hot on our heels.
"The house is nearly a hundred years old. With kids you'll quickly get used to which boards squeak."
Veronica shoots me a quizzical look. I, in turn, shoot Josh a warning glare. He smiles, rolls his eyes and continues.
"All of the beams were hand-carved, and I've replaced a lot of the drywall, over years it had become quite bowed."
"See that wall right there?" I point to the far wall, "I did that one, see how straight it is?"
Josh booms loudly with laughter, Veronica does too, like it's infectious. I'm not sure what's so funny?
"I did!"
They keep laughing in their shared joke and continue the tour. The bedrooms flank either side of the wide hallway, each room has built-in bookcases and window seats beside multi-paned glass overlooking the manicured lawn. High ceilings with exposed beams adorn every room with varying pitches. Walking through to the open kitchen and lounge area, glass french doors open to a large patio. All of it built around the centerpiece of the house, a large river rock fireplace, alight with embers, gently warming the room. In the back yard a large old oak tree dominates the far corner, a tire swing hanging from its base. Steps nailed into the trunk snaking their way to a rudimentary treehouse a few feet off the ground.
It's simple but elegant.
Small, but home.
Brash columns, gilded staircases, infinity pools, maids. They were a brand of extra that I just wasn't interested in anymore.
We sip our coffee around the dining table and talk adult. About work, about babies, about finding a good insurance broker. It's funny how censored our conversations are compared to on the ship. Especially with small ears nearby.
Veronica's hair is gathered into a ponytail, resting low, exposing her neck. Each time she spoke, muscles shifted and it transported me to lips against it last night. My lips were ready to revisit it again today. She was here, within touching distance. I could pull her into my arms if I wanted to, and she would let me.
"So, can I assume that things are official?" Josh asks, looking between Veronica and I. Our fingers laced together under the table, sitting on my lap. I run my thumb back and forth lazily across her knuckles and lean toward her, a natural response to her nearness. As nice as the house tour is, I just want to be alone with her again and Josh can tell.
I nod, not even trying to hide the smug grin from my cheeks.
Josh claps loudly, "Thank God for that! Spending five months with this pining mess was wearing thin. I'm in the bunk above him, hearing him cry himself to sleep every night."
I throw him a private, murderous glare. My pining is my own business. He volleys back a shit-eating grin.
"Fine, fine, he wasn't actually crying, but his silent stressing was quite annoying."
"Did you say you guys were together in high school too?" Leiha asks, steering Josh away from the ribbing.
"On and off, yes," I reply, giving Veronica the look. The one that says, don't worry, I will not divulge the horror of our teen years over coffee. Re-hashing that shit storm needs hard spirits as an accompaniment.
I finish my coffee, I can see Veronica has finished hers.
"Not that I didn't enjoy spending the last five months with you, but, I think maybe it's time for us to go. I'm sure you guys want to spend some time together," I say.
Josh gives me a knowing smile and we all say our goodbyes with promises to meet up for a proper dinner after the baby is born.
We sit in the car and a nervousness floods through me. Maybe I'd put too much effort into this? Maybe I was way off. Surely this was too soon to be bringing these kinds of topics into the relationship? The one that technically started about sixteen hours ago.
"Their kids are lovely, their home is lovely. Are they pod people?" Veronica asks, looking toward the house.
"I don't believe so," I buckle my seatbelt, "You like the house, huh?"
"It's incredible."
Fuck it. In for a penny, in for a pound, right? I'd wasted the better part of two years exercising caution and restraint around Veronica. I was tired of it all. Tired of waiting. I knew exactly what I wanted, and this time, I was going to be honest about it.
I put the keys in the ignition and say, "What if...what if I bought it, we bought it?"
"That house? Is it even for sale?" she looks at it again, mouth open, inspecting.
"Not yet; Josh mentioned he was going to put it on the market. They need to upsize, it only has two bedrooms. I've been here before, I knew it was amazing."
"Can we even afford it?"
"I still have Mom's inheritance money. My income, your income. We're both paying rent, for not much more per month that could be ours."
Veronica is listening to me, but her eyes are fixed upon the house.
"I don't want to waste any more time V. I want to come home to you. I don't want to go back and forth anymore. It could be your apartment, or it could be mine, or here. I don't care. I just want it to be with you."
She doesn't speak and I pull at my shirtsleeves, tucking my fingers within them.
"I never really got to have a normal life, a normal house, you know, a home. Casa Echolls was always a shitshow. When Josh mentioned it, I just thought that maybe it was something we could have, something that we deserved?"
She turns back to face me, an unreadable expression on her face.
"Can I think about it?"
I smile, more than happy with that response, "Take all the time you need."
I cross my outstretched legs at the ankles and lean back against the cushions. This was all I ever wanted. Veronica, me, a couch, a pizza box on the coffee table. Her body, warm and soft against mine. Hollow laying across her legs, watching the pizza box intently.
"Just for the record, I wasn't really pining. I think Josh was exaggerating slightly."
"No?" a finger runs down my temple, then sweeps her hand through my hair. "You didn't pine for me?" She teases, a tender light in her eyes.
"Maybe it was just a mini-pine," I pinch my fingers together and smirk at her playfully.
She nods, knowingly "Like a pinelet?"
"Yes, exactly! A pinelet. A silent pinelet. It wasn't like I was going around moaning to everyone about you. I was discreet." I was certainly moaning internally, but I saw no need to divulge that.
"Discreet Logan… does not compute," she answers in a robotic voice before looking at me seriously, that PI, you-don't-have-to-tell-me-but-I'll-find-out-another-way look.
I kiss her on the head, hoping to close the subject.
"I pined," she says quietly.
I smile, wide, "You did?"
"Great big pines. I pined into Hollow's fur, buried my face into him and pined. To be honest, I think he pined for you too." She nudges him and he breaks his attention on the pizza box for a moment to look back at her, then returns his gaze to the object of his desire.
"I hadn't even met him until yesterday," I chuckle, touching the soft velvet of his ears.
"He knew something was missing."
"So we were all pining. A little and a lot."
"Mutually pining you might say?"
"You might."
She looks at me with soft eyes, hand swirling on my chest.
Sometimes I feel as though I've lived multiple lives. Each one separate and distinct. Each life, a different version of myself in a different set of circumstances. Some lives I've lived we're good. Others are fucking terrible, horrific nightmares that I can't escape from. But each time I get to shake the confines of the previous one just that little bit more.
Change. Adapt. Grow.
This life, like most of my lives with Veronica, is a good one. My favorite yet, I don't want this one to end. This is the life I want to keep.
Forever.
The world will invariably get it our way. Shit will happen. Maybe even chaos. But I figure we'll withstand all those trials and tribulations better together. Things are always easier together.
"I was thinking I probably should take you on a date then?" I say.
"A date? "
"Yeah. You know, dinner, wine, movies, wooing, all that stuff."
"Wooing, you say?" she looks at me excitedly.
I waggle my eyebrows
"So, in Logan's world it's step one: ask a girl to buy a house with you. Step two: go out on a date?"
"Okay in retrospect I might be a little backward. Are you questioning my process?"
"No, not at all. "
"How about you take me on a date tomorrow and then you take me past that house again? For a proper look." She holds my gaze, connected, like she's anchoring into my soul. Just like every look she gives me, has given me, for the last sixteen years.
"So, date first, house second?"
"Yeah."
"Sounds like a plan."
Veronica hooks a leg over mine and scootches down the couch. I lift my arm and she burrows in, ear to my chest. Warm. Snug. Home.
"You give good nook," she mumbles into my chest.
"Thank you, my love," I reply, head down dancing kisses across her brow.
The last official chapter! Agh. What a wild ride.
Thank you to everyone for your support and comments I appreciate each and every one.
I've got a nice little epilogue to wrap it all up that I'll post in the next few days.
As always, Aurora2020, your friendship and beta skills have saved me and this fic. Thankyou!