Veronica

"Carry me. Please. I'm begging you."

Logan just laughs and takes the handle of my rolling suitcase from me and turns left, continuing down the long stretch of hallway. It's 4:00 a.m., we've just walked up three flights of stairs to our dorm floor, and I am officially done. Between putting up with Duncan's passive aggressive attitude, waiting at the airport for the other students to arrive, staying awake during the dorm orientation on the bus ride to campus, and then hauling our gear upstairs, I am completely and utterly done. Logan managed to get in a quick cat-nap at the airport after we scarfed down some stale sandwiches, which is good because at least one of us is somewhat refreshed and coherent enough to find our room.

As I remove my thick winter coat, I watch him roll our suitcases down the dimmed hallway. At the airport, Duncan got into a conversation with a few other single guys on their way to campus. It was nice to get a break from him, and Logan and I were able to carry on our easy conversation while we waited for the bus. Every time we have the chance to talk, I feel as if I'm seeing more and more of the Logan that Lilly described. In the low tones and intense gaze, I also feel like I may be getting to know the Logan that he might not show everyone else. The fact that he volunteered with veterans had taken me by surprise, but the earnest way in which he spoke about the future of our country made me see more than just the argumentative side of his personal views that I saw in Debate Club.

I catch up with him at the door of our dorm room—the last one on the floor, just next to the exit to the fire stairwell. He unlocks the door and grins, pushing the door open gently as he whispers, "After you."

Stepping past him into the doorway, I pause and feel around the corner for the lights. When I find the switch and flick it on, the fluorescent light illuminates the small entryway. As I step in, there's a little galley kitchenette to my immediate right, with a sink and cupboards above and below with a small microwave, toaster, and coffee maker on the counter. Carrying on, I realize there's a long closet with sliding double doors behind the front door and next to that is the open door to our small bathroom. It's the main living space that causes me to gasp. The space is a large rectangular cinder block space in stark white. On the far right wall are two pine desks, pushed side by side with computers on each and a printer between. On the closer wall near the bathroom door are two tall wooden chests of drawers. Around the corner from the kitchenette is a small white metal café table and two chairs. But in the middle of it all, against the far wall with the windows set to either side is one bed with two side tables. One…not so big bed.

"Is that a double bed?!" I gasp, dropping my carry-on and purse to the ground.

"Sure looks that way," Logan responds, coming closer, and I hear the click of the door locking behind us. "Guess it could have been worse and they could have tried to stick us in a single."

Tossing my coat onto one of the wooden cafe chairs, I wander over to the bed and place my hand on the slatted wooden bed frame. It's covered with a bland grey quilted cover and now that I'm closer I notice that there are more drawers underneath the bed, peeking out from under the blanket.

"Will we both fit in it?"

"I don't know. Let's give it a try."

He throws his jacket over mine as he wanders to the right side of the bed and toes off his shoes before laying down flat on top of the blanket, staring up at the ceiling. With his broad shoulders and length, he takes up precisely half of the space. I bite my lip and consider the remaining space as I toe off my shoes on "my" side. Releasing a heavy sigh, I lower myself down and place my head on the pillow, wriggling onto my back while trying to cover my part of the bed property. When I stop moving, Logan laughs.

"Someone in the government thought this through." He raises his hands up and tucks them under his head and I nearly get his elbow in my face. "A queen or a king size bed would provide way too much space between couples. Instead, some genius said 'hey, we can save on space and maybe hurry up the procreation process by putting them in a tiny bed together.'"

I snort when I laugh and roll onto my side to look at him. "Really? You think the tiny bed is a government plot for quicker reproduction?"

"Actually, after seeing the cool houses made from recycled freight containers that the families with kids get, I'm seeing their plan pretty clear. That couple who were in front of us in the bus—Wallace and Jackie, I think—did you see they got one?"

"Yes! She must not be far along because when she stood up, I didn't even notice a baby bump yet. Although what the hell do I know about pregnancy except what they showed us in textbooks? She could be about to pop and I would think she just ate too much."

Logan rolls onto his side to face me. "She just passed her first trimester. I heard them talking to another couple about it while you were in the bathroom at the airport."

"A new partnership, a baby, and college. That's quite a feat."

"Makes sense. They get better accommodations, access to the campus daycare, parental leave from classes for up to a year, plus the $10,000 that they can bank until they're out of college. It's a pretty sweet deal."

I'm about to reply when a giant yawn takes over my mouth instead of words and my body shakes with exhaustion. Any thoughts I may have had about sex are quickly being replaced in my head by the luxurious imaginings of sleep. Which is a bummer because the fluorescent light is catching Logan's face just so as to accentuate the soft curves of his cheeks, sprinkled with some five-o'clock shadow that makes him look on the ruggedly handsome side, more than the jackass-cute side I usually see.

In response to my yawn, Logan yawns as well, his mouth opening so wide I can feel the heat of his breath from our proximity. He smells of coffee and egg salad and the musky hint of sweat and suddenly any and all possibilities of sexy-times are officially off the table as my nose wrinkles in disgust, because if that's what he reeks of then I can't smell any better at the moment. And while I'm not expecting candles and roses for our first time, I would like us to at least feel like humans and not two sacks of skin that traveled across the country together.

"We should get ready for bed," I offer, but make no move as exhaustion keeps me firmly in place.

"You're right. We should." His eyes meet mine but he doesn't move either. "Do you want to go first?"

"Go? Where?"

"To get dressed in the bathroom? Brush your teeth. Do whatever else it is girls do in there."

"Plot to take over the world. That's what we're doing. Plotting."

"Ah. I suspected as much. Is that why you like to go in groups?"

"Yes. That's exactly it. You found us out and now I'll have to kill you."

"Can't you just make me your minion instead? Do your evil bidding? Keep me chained to the bed and all that."

Heat pools in my belly and his eyes darken in my direction. Between the jet lag and the sleep deprivation, I'm feeling slightly light-headed, without the necessity of alcohol.

"You've now made two cracks about doing my bidding. I'm starting to think this is a thing with you."

"Who knows? It may be something we need to explore further."

Biting the side of my lip I pause, suddenly wide awake. "You know…" I begin slowly. "You're quite the flirt when you want to be, Logan Echolls."

"I guess you've found me out, Veronica Mars."

"You're forgetting...I've been your friend for years. I've seen you flirt with girls before. Lots of girls, in fact."

For a split second his face falters and he frowns, but collects himself quickly to forge on. "I wouldn't say lots but yes, I may have attracted my share of attention from both women and men."

It's my turn to falter and I tilt my head to the side, confused. "Women and men, huh?"

"Perhaps. Not saying I did anything about it, since I chose to be matched with a woman by Orwell, but I'm also not completely 100% on the hetero-scale either."

My surprise turns to a sharp yawn that escapes me and he laughs. Pulling his arm high above him, he drops his wrist watch in front of his face and sighs. "It's almost 4:30. We should table this discussion for now and go to sleep."

"Hmmm…" is all I can manage as I roll away from him and push myself to stand. Stepping over to my suitcase, I lay it down on the floor in the middle of the room and unzip it, tossing it open to find a pair of sleep shorts, t-shirt, and clean underwear. I also grab my travel bag with my tooth-brush in it and stand.

"I won't be too long," I toss over my shoulder on the way into the bathroom.

"I'll be here," he replies as I close the door.

Logan

When the door lock clicks, I roll over her side of the bed and scoot to my suitcase, dropping it on the ground and unzipping it. Grab sweats. Grab t-shirt. Grab toiletry bag. Zip everything up again. Keeping my eyes on the door, I quickly pull off my shirt and toss it over to my side of the bed, where it lands out of sight. With a deep breath, I pull off my jeans and underwear and pull on the new sweats, grabbing the pile of dirty clothes and tossing it over with the shirt. I walk over to the kitchen sink and open my toiletries to brush my teeth. As I brush, I imagine Veronica on the other side of the door, doing the same. I just have to make it back to bed before her. I know I was flirting but the last thing I need is for us to have sex tonight. It's too soon. Too soon for her to see.

My scars prickle and I ignore them. Aaron's not around anymore. He can't hurt me. The only one who can is myself. And Veronica. Because the truth is that I'm pretty sure she's capable of breaking my heart. The way we were talking during our travels, I think we finally really connected and I'm hoping that over the next few days, we can do more of that—talk and connect without having to worry about our parents or Lilly or Duncan getting in the way of things.

Rinse. Spit. Put the toothbrush back in my bag and cross back to the bed. As I pull back the covers, Veronica opens the door. She's in another pair of those short black sleep shorts and a black and white striped t-shirt and her face is a glowy pink and glistening from washing her face. I dive under the covers so she can't see the erection that suddenly appeared and roll onto my side, facing her pillow.

"You can turn off the lights, if you want."

"Oh!" she blinks, glancing around at our suitcases strewn across the floor. "Okay. Give me a sec to dodge the mess."

She makes her way to the door and I hear the lock clicking before the lights go out.

"Marco…" I call into the darkness of the room. The lights from outside filter between the Venetian blinds but it's still not enough to see well. Holding my breath for a second, I run through my list in my head...Keith Mars, large gun, angry father, possible castration. With my boner now subsiding, I decide to take the plunge into deeper water and pull back the covers on her side of the bed.

"Polo," she calls back and I hear her shuffling her feet over the heavy pile carpeting until she appears in silhouette near the mattress.

"Marco…"

"Polo!" Pulling back the covers all the way, she slides under the thin blanket and immediately shivers. "Oh God, Marco…the water's cold!"

"We're not in California anymore." I chuckle. Raising my part of the blanket, I open my arms. "Need some warmth?"

I hear her breath hitch in the darkness, the whites of her eyes wide enough to catch the small tracks of light. She hesitates for a moment before rolling over, scooting into my arms. Her body stiffens against me like a plank and I drop the blanket over her body, my arm coming down on top to rest across her waist. Underneath, I can feel her muscles tense against mine, her breathing heavy and I can sense the fear in her, even with her back turned to me.

"Better?"

"Yes, but I think we need to put a warmer comforter on our list of supplies to pick up tomorrow. And maybe some side table lamps. Do you like reading in bed? Because I sometimes do, so side table lamps would be good…" There's a shake in her rapid speech and I can feel her anxiety about being next to me starting to come out in her monologue so I just stay still and wait. "Oh! And towels. They only gave us a few so if we don't want to do laundry every couple of days, we should get some more. Which means we also need laundry detergent. And maybe some drapes because those plastic blinds are ugly. Did you see there's already some curtain rods up? When we wake up, we can put our stuff away in the drawers and make a list of what we need over breakfast so we don't have to go to the store twice. What do you think?"

"I think it's all very domestic."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means I'm looking forward to it. I'm looking forward to making this room a warm and inviting home for us, Veronica. Just you and me."

"Oh…" She breathes and she presses back until she's flush against me, her body relaxing slightly as she does. "Maybe with a warmer blanket, you won't be forced to keep me from freezing every night. I mean, this is the second night in a row I've found myself in your arms."

"Or maybe...we get a warm duvet and we continue to snuggle underneath it every night, because I have to admit, I do enjoy having you here in my arms."

"You do?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I do. Do you like it too?"

She hesitates, shifting her shoulders as she burrows deeper under the covers, tucking her head just under my chin. "Yeah. I kind of do. Is that okay? The cuddling, I mean. Just cuddling with nothing more?"

"You say that like you're worried."

"I'm not! I mean, I just wanted to make sure you were okay with it too."

"Veronica, I promise you this—I'm not going to do anything to you in your sleep. I don't want you to be afraid to sleep next to me because you think I want or need more and will just help myself. You don't belong to me and I don't belong to you. I won't grope you, won't coerce you, won't demand anything of you that you are not willing to give, fully and completely. You have my word. All I want to do is share this bed with you." I pause, staring at the back of her head before I bring mine closer to her. "But if you will let me, there is one thing I'd like to do…"

"What's that?'

Slowly, I lean forward and kiss the top of her head softly, breathing in the gentle scent of her before moving my head back comfortably onto my pillow.

"Good night, Veronica."

With that, I feel the rest of the tension in her body ease and she sighs, shifting so her legs now follow mine. For a moment, I listen to her breath in the silence before she speaks again, soft as a kiss sent out in the darkness.

"Good night, Logan. Sleep well."

Veronica

I can see the bright light in the room through my eyelids and I squeeze them tighter, trying to block it out. That's when it hits me how cold I am and I pull the covers tightly around me, trying to shield me from the forces of nature attacking my senses.

"Good morning."

Squinting into the brightness of the room, I look for Logan, still gathering the covers around me as I sit up slightly. He's sitting at the table, coffee in hand, his feet up on the other chair. He's already dressed in green khakis and an orange plaid shirt, shaved and showered, and he grins at me.

"I made coffee. They left us with a small tin of grounds, some powdered creamer, and sugar. Do you want some?"

"Yeah. Sure. Please." He stands to walk over to the kitchen and I rearrange my pillows and scoot over to my side of the cold bed. "What time is it?"

"Elevenish. It was too bright for me to sleep anymore, so I took a shower. I also started a list of things we could use around here."

As he moves towards me with my coffee in a small white ceramic cup I realize he's also moved our luggage from the middle of the floor, so not only is he clean, but he's been productive. He sets the mug down on my side table and smiles, pausing for a second and my heart leaps as the thought that he may lean over and give me a good morning kiss dances through my head. But instead, he walks back to his chair and I pout at his retreat.

"Definitely need bigger coffee mugs. I'm already on my second cup." He leans over to write on the paper. "I wrote down all the things you mentioned last night and I added laundry hampers. And unless we want to eat in the cafeteria every morning, we'll have to get some food, since they only gave us some basics for the next few days. I found a couple of small boxes of cereal, some bread, and butter in the fridge."

"Well, my father gave us $2,000 he saved over the years, so that should be more than enough to get us what we need, plus some extra food until our Student Stipend cards are handed out on Sunday at orientation."

"Excellent. I'm sure the Campus center is going to be packed today, so I was thinking we could take a taxi into the city and hit one of the department stores. They'll have more selection than just school and government branded stuff."

"You mean you don't want to sleep under a big Novo Terra branded quilt?" Wriggling out from my cocoon of covers, I reach for my coffee and grin. The cup is hot and I wrap my cold fingers around as an involuntary shiver runs through me.

"Um, no. Thanks." Logan's eyes dart from me, back to the page, his cheeks now tinged pink.

Frowning at him, I wonder what caused this reaction. His eyes flash towards me again and back to the page as he shifts in his chair, looking like he's in discomfort.

Raising my coffee to my lips, I pull my arms close to my body and that's when I realize my nipples are hard. And I'm in a thin shirt. Heat rises up my neck and to my face as I try to cover my chest with my arms while I sip my coffee, keeping my eyes firmly averted from Logan's. Even though it's not sexual, there's something weird about having such a reaction in front of him, alone, in our room.

But that's the thing...it's our room now. We're going to be privy to all manner of intimate activities due to proximity. That's the point. What the government wants of us. Forced intimacy.

"So, yeah…" He slides his legs under the table, frowning at the paper and wriggling uncomfortably in the wooden chair. "I think that's all for the list."

Then he does it. He sneaks his hand down to his pants and adjusts his fly. And that's when I see it.

Oh my God. He's hard!

I almost spit out my coffee as I realize why he looks so uncomfortable. Thanks, Human Sexuality class. He's turned on by me, my nipples, and this cup of coffee...okay, maybe not the coffee (even though it is damn good) but I managed to turn him on and didn't even have to try! A giddy tickle runs through me and I fight the grin I feel pulling at my cheeks, trying not to give away how happy I am at this discovery.

I turned him on!

I really shouldn't be this happy. It's a ridiculous thing. I should not be defined by how I make a man feel or not feel. Like we learned in class, a person's sexual feelings are their own and we need to respect them as personal and valid as they differ from person to person.

But still…

I turned him on.

Logan

Apparently tugging in the morning shower is not going to keep my thoughts of having sex with Veronica at bay. My deep, deep desire to strip her naked in our new bed and explore every soft inch of her.

Also thinking like that is not going to get rid of this boner.

Baseball. Algebra equations. Nuclear war. Keith Mars.

Okay. Better.

Should I suggest she get warm flannel pajamas when we go shopping? No. I'll live with the boners just to see her in those flimsy t-shirts and shorts every morning.

My cock twitches again and fuck, we've been living together all of seven hours and I'm about to burst. It would help if she did something really off-putting like pick her nose or fart or just something, because right now, she's sitting in our bed, her blond hair all rumpled and cute, grinning like an idiot at the coffee I made her, and my body and my heart can't stand it.

Thank you, Orwell. Thank you ever so much.

Fuck. I really am cut out to be a politician. I'm now praying to a government built computer.

"You make really good coffee."

"Thanks. Another positive from hanging around movie sets. All the important tips from Craft Services. Two level tablespoons to one cup of water works perfectly every time."

"Ah, see, my dad likes his the consistency of battery acid, so it's nice to actually taste the coffee in this coffee."

"Well, if we have enough money, maybe we can upgrade to better coffee and a fancier machine. One with a timer so we can wake up to it?"

"Mmmm...that would be nice." She slips down a little more under the covers and closes her eyes.

"I also put an alarm clock on our list. Unless you packed one?"

"No. I didn't. But good idea. We don't want to be late for class on Monday."

"When we unpack I'll find my schedule and put it up on the kitchen cupboard door, so you can find me." I toss in a wink to let her know I'm teasing and she laughs.

"I'll put mine up as well. So you can find me. You know, just in case."

"In case what?"

She shrugs and takes another slow sip of her coffee, her eyes sparkling with delight.

"In case...you need me."

Jesus Christ, she's flirting with me. The mischief in her eyes is unmistakable. In case I need her. Need. Want. Desire. Possibly verging on pine for. How about all of the above?

She puts her cup back down, slips out from under the covers and stands, pausing as her body shimmies in the cold air. Tiny goosebumps raise her skin and she crosses her arms under her breasts. Her nipples are hard again. Fuck. To be able to run my tongue over them.

"Brrr. Time for a hot shower. Thanks for the coffee."

With the confidence of a well trained soldier, she squares her shoulders and drops her arms to her side, strutting across the room and I can't help but follow her with my eyes, watching as she sways her hips in exaggerated movement just before disappearing into the bathroom and closing the door.

When the coast is clear, I gasp as my chest constricts. She knows. She's figured it out. Somehow, this morning, Veronica's sensed what she can do to me. Hell, what she could have done to any willing 18 year old man, or woman for that matter. And for some reason, I feel like she's going to draw this out. Newfound power is an amazing intoxicant and right now, Veronica holds all the power in this relationship. I handed it to her. Whether we have sex or not is all in her dainty hands.

Dear God, I'm gonna die.