Disclaimer: I don't own Veronica Mars, the Libertines, or the Prince Regent.
Bright beams of sunlight streamed into the room. It was bare, save for a few sheet-covered pieces of furniture, and two sets of clothes strewn on the floor. The couple lay intertwined, sleeping heavily on the carpet-covered ground. Scrunching her eyes away from the brightness of the sun, Veronica turned her head away, and snuggled deeper into the sheet in which she was ensconced. A pair of strong, sturdy arms tightened around her, and her eyes flew open. Oh no.
"Morning," He whispered, and it sent shivers down her bare spine. She turned up at him, smiling meekly, a faint blush tingeing her cheeks.
"Morning," She replied, gulping, and wondering how in the hell she was going to make it out of this. Before she could say anything though, before she could make an excuse to walk-no run, away, he leaned down and kissed her, stealing the words from her mouth.
"Now if I could wake up this every morning, I'd want to get out of bed." He murmured against her cheek, and she closed her eyes in pleasure. Biting her bruised bottom lip, images of the previous night flashed through her mind. It had been like magic. Neither had said a word, but had been drawn together by some insane, inexplicable force. And, she noted, it had brought her here. " 'Ronica? Earth to Mars?" He smiled at his little joke, and she rolled her eyes, but a smile played at the corners of her lips.
"Yeah. Sorry. What did you say?" She tried to uncloud her mind. Tried to rationalize it all away. She wanted to enjoy these moments because, she sighed, they were probably the last ones they would ever share. Like this anyway.
"I asked if you wanted breakfast. Living with the Cola Queen and Prince Regent did teach me a few things over the years." A delighted smile crossed her features, and he felt his breath catch. She was so beautiful, and for these few moments, she was his. He wasn't dumb; he knew it wouldn't last longer than that, that she wouldn't stay. She couldn't stay.
"I love that I get breakfast in…" She trailed off, giggling, to gesture to their makeshift bed. "Bed, but what I love more is that you could make a Libertines reference this early in the morning. For that you get my eternal respect. Bravo." He shifted uncomfortably at the reference to eternity, but only smiled, and naked, stood and sauntered into the kitchen. Veronica marveled at this confidence, cool and easy, and also noted that she could've never stood buck naked in her kitchen and make breakfast for an unaccustomed bed mate.
As he bent, she gasped.
"Oh my god, Logan." She murmured, wrapping the sheet around herself, and rushing to his side. He gazed down at her quizzically, then flinched as she traced the 6-inch scar on his back, a long ago remnant of his father's periodic beatings. "What?" She managed to get out, intently looking into his eyes.
"Old habits die hard." He responded cryptically, and she flinched as if she'd been slapped. She was at the couch and dressed within a matter of moments. "Veronica. I didn't mean it that way." She paused on her way to the door, unaccustomed to this new, non-confrontational Logan.
"It's-it's Ok." She responded, smiling weakly, and chewing on her bottom lip. "But I mean, it's time to face reality." Her tone was pragmatic, and Logan felt a pang. She was right. He knew she was. He knew it had been a mistake for her, but he couldn't-wouldn't regret it. Not even once.
"You sure you don't have time for some eggs? They're my specialty," She didn't respond, but had tilted her head to the side, and gazed at him in wonder.
"The entire time we dated you never once cooked anything for me." She mused, a smile lurking at the corners of her lips. It shone through her eyes, and Logan felt a surge of pride for having put it there.
"I knew I would have you around. Now I'm trying to keep you around. It's very different, ma cherie." His last words were spouted with a thick French accent, and Veronica couldn't help laughing out loud. She hadn't seen this side of Logan in a very long time, and she found herself being drawn closer.
"My dad is going to kill me," She murmured, holding up her cell phone, which did indeed have 11 missed calls on it. "I should get home soon. Now." He came around the side of the island, capturing her wrists in his hands.
"Then I guess we should spend our time wisely." His lips were inches from hers, and she couldn't explain away her fascination. They'd kissed hundreds of times, but still, being this close to him still made her knees wobbly. God, I'm horrible. I'm a terrible, terrible girlfriend. Duncan deserves better. Logan deserves better, she thought in those long seconds before he kissed her; but as his lips finally settled against hers, the world, as always, fell away.
A/N: Man, that was fun! I hope you enjoyed reading it, and weren't too freaked out by the prospect of non-angry Logan. At first it started out as a deficiency on my part, which I covered up by having Veronica wonder what was going on with him, but now I think I have a plan. Either way, I hope you enjoyed reading it, because I absolutely loved writing it.