Author's Note: Sorry for such a long wait between chapters - real life got a bit crazy the last few weeks. First, I moved home after 4 months overseas, then I immediately got sick for a week :(. After that, I had a week of barely sleeping, and then last week the UK was hit with snowstorms and I ended up staying in a BB close to work for 3 nights. As a result, I just didn't manage to get any writing done. Good news is, I wrote almost a whole chapter over this past weekend, so I can post chapter 11 :).

Chapter Eleven

Late July 2019

Veronica sits at the kitchen table—her make-shift office for now—one eye on the case notes open in front of her and the other on the calendar on her phone as she mentally counts off the days. According to her chart, she should be ovulating about now… which means she and Logan really should have sex today. She checks the time; it's four-thirty, which means he should be home in the next hour. They have to be at Chaos and Sarah's for dinner by seven o'clock and it could be a late night, which gives them about a ninety-minute window before they have to leave.

With an impatient sigh, she closes the calendar and places the phone face-down on the table, turning her attention back to the case she's supposed to be working on. Helping her father with research for some of his cases over the last few months has renewed her desire to get back into PI work again, and while much of the work she's been doing has been long-distance research for Mars Investigations, she has taken on a couple of cases of her own here in Virginia Beach. They don't quite live up to the scandalous nature of the work in Neptune, but at least they occupy her time and bring in a bit of money. She and Nick have been tossing around some ideas for setting up a business here, but they haven't made much progress yet, what with personal life distractions and then Nick doing a bit of contract work in IT during the last few weeks.

Of course, she's been pretty occupied herself lately, too. As soon as she recovered from the laparoscopy and it was safe to start trying to conceive again, she dived right into organisation mode, calculating and planning everything to the minutest detail. The bathroom is now home to various bottles of folic acid and pre-natal vitamins, thermometers, ovulation tests, and pregnancy tests. There's a good possibility she will only have a six-month window to get pregnant and they're almost three months in already, so she's not taking any chances.

Right now though, she needs to concentrate on the case her father has handed over to her. The subject being investigated seems to have had business dealings on the East Coast in the last few years, particularly in Virginia, so Veronica's perfectly situated to look into it.

She's busy making notes on all his recent business activities when Logan walks through the door at five-fifteen.

"Hey," he greets with a smile, appearing in the kitchen doorway.

He crosses the room, resting his hand on the back of her chair as he leans down for a kiss.

"Hi." Veronica returns the smile when they part. "Good day?"

"Pretty good," he replies, moving to the fridge and grabbing the orange juice from inside the door. "I got to scare the shit out of this kid who decided it was a good idea to show-off during tactical flight training this afternoon."

"Fun times," she responds, grimacing as he lifts the juice to his mouth, and drinks straight from the carton. How many times have I told him not to do that? She nods in his direction. "That's your carton now, by the way. I'm not drinking OJ with your backwash in it."

"Sorry." He manages to look contrite as he glances down at the carton in his hand, then back up at her, before returning it to the fridge. "You still on for dinner at Chaos's tonight?"

"Yep."

"Great." He flashes another smile. "I'm gonna go take a shower."

"Wait!" she exclaims quickly as he turns to go. "You can't. Not yet."

"Why not?" he asks with a frown.

Veronica stands, moving in front of him. "Because I'm ovulating and we need to have sex first."

"Right now?" He looks sceptical. "I just got home from work."

"Yes, right now," she responds. "We have less than two hours before we have to leave for dinner. And you know hot showers can affect sperm count. We need to maximise our chances here."

"I know that, but I'm not sure if—"

"No buts, we're doing this now." Veronica grabs his hand and leads him through the living room and up the stairs.

When they reach the bedroom, Veronica pulls off her top and shimmies out of the sweatpants she's wearing, then unbuttons Logan's uniform shirt and tugs it down his arms. Reaching down, she unbuckles his pants and lowers the zipper, reaching inside, then frowns when she realises he's not even remotely aroused.

"Logan…?"

Above her head, Logan sighs. "Veronica, I can't just get it up on command."

Great. She resists the urge to roll her eyes. He's always raring to go at the most inconvenient times, but now, when I need him to be, there's nothing.

"Well, I'll just have to remedy that, won't I?" she responds determinedly.

Veronica tugs down his clothing and takes him in her hands, stroking until he starts to respond, then kneels to use her mouth to finish the job. It doesn't take long before he's standing at attention, so she rises, before walking him backwards and urging him down onto the bed. She unclasps her bra, then steps out of her panties before climbing atop him, positioning him at her entrance and wasting no time in sinking down. Bracing her hands on his chest, she starts to move above him as his hands come to her hips to guide her. Save for the sounds of flesh moving together and their ragged breathing, the room is silent.

After a couple of minutes, she shifts her position a little, leaning forward as she tries to hit the right spot, but she's just not getting there. With a sigh, she slips one hand between her legs and begins stroking herself.

"Geez, Veronica," mutters Logan from beneath her; but it's not his usual tone of barely restrained desire… he sounds almost annoyed.

Before she has time to realise what's going on, he's tightened his grip on her hips and turned them over, pulling her beneath him.

Supporting himself with a hand on either side of her head, resting against the mattress, he thrusts quickly, a frown of concentration on his face as he grinds his hips, stimulating her where she needs it most. It doesn't take long for the familiar sensations of pleasure to start building inside her, but all too soon, his thrusts become erratic and then he's spilling inside her with a groan. Breathing heavily, he shifts off her, turning onto his back, lying beside her on the bed. It takes barely a few seconds for the silence to become awkward, both of them staring at the ceiling as their heart-rates return to normal.

"Go take your shower," says Veronica eventually.

Without a word, he nods, then rolls off the bed and disappears down the hall to the bathroom. Veronica watches him leave, then returns her gaze to the ceiling. She clenches her jaw, closing her eyes as feelings of guilt mixed with a small amount of shame wash over her. What was I thinking? That was pretty much the worst sex we've ever had. I didn't even orgasm for Christ's sake. Logan had just switched from passively letting it happen, to taking control and rushing it, like he couldn't wait to get it over with… and that fucking hurts. In all the various incarnations of their relationship over the years, they've never had clinical, emotionless sex before… but that's exactly what just happened. And for what? Just because she's ovulating? Just to try to get pregnant?

God, she doesn't want to conceive a baby that way. A baby should come from love and intimacy, not from… whatever that just was.

She remains in the same position on the bed for a few more minutes, just in case that helps anything—not that there's any actual evidence that lying down after sex does in fact increase the chance of conception, any more than there is about the orgasm she didn't have, but hey, it's worth a shot—before rolling off the mattress in much the same manner Logan did and pulling a shirt over her head. She picks up a brush, running it through the tangles in her hair, and as she places it back down on the dresser, Logan returns from the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist and his muscular chest glistening with water droplets.

"Shower's free," he says neutrally as he opens the closet and pulls out a shirt and slacks.

"Thanks." She slips past him and out of the room, closing her eyes briefly and shaking her head in dismay at the weird awkwardness now present between them.

She takes her time in the shower, letting the hot water beat down against her neck and shoulders, releasing the tension as she rests her head against the wall. For a moment, she considers releasing some of the other tension thrumming through her, finishing off what they started in the bedroom, but the whole experience seems tainted now and she can't seem to muster the enthusiasm to continue. Instead, she washes her hair and body, then turns off the water and steps out of the shower. When she returns to the bedroom, Logan's left the room, the heady scent of his cologne still hanging in the air.

With a sigh, she dresses, puts on a little make-up, and blow-dries her hair, by which time it's six-forty and almost time to leave for Chaos and Sarah's. She heads downstairs, finding Logan already waiting for her by the front door.

"Ready?" he asks.

"Yeah." She nods, grabbing her summer jacket and opening the door. "Come on, let's go."

Logan wakes the next morning with a strange, gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach. It takes a moment to remember why, but when he glances over at Veronica, sleeping peacefully on her side, her back to him, it all comes flooding back.

What the hell was that yesterday? he wonders, even as a small voice in the back of his head replies with: Emotionless sex… that's what it was. Don't you remember? The same kind of sex you've had with pretty much every other woman who's ever been in your life, except for Veronica. No, actually, it was worse than that—at least with his previous partners, even if they were just a means to an end, he always tried to be attentive, to make them feel good, but last night, he hadn't even cared whether she got off or not; he just wanted it over with.

Things were strained between them all evening, though they tried their best not to let it show in front of Chaos and Sarah, and they went to bed tense and barely even speaking.

He should have said something, should have stopped things before they even started, but he can never can seem to deny Veronica anything, especially when it comes to sex. He knows how focused and determined she's been about getting pregnant, how meticulous she is about getting the timing just right, and he's never had a problem with it before. But last night was different. Something was off; he could sense it right away, but instead of facing it head-on, he brushed it off and let her continue. And he knows why: he's desperate for it to happen too, for her to get pregnant… but it can't be like it was last night. They can't conceive a child that way, all clinical and planned, just an exchange of bodily fluids with no love or emotion involved. It wouldn't feel right.

He reaches out a hand, running his fingers through Veronica's hair as it cascades down her back; it's longer now than it has been in years, almost as long as it was before Lilly died, though back then she always wore it straight, but now she styles it in tousled waves. He shifts closer, pressing his chest to her back as his hand slides around her waist, moving beneath the oversized t-shirt she's wearing. As he pulls her close, she stirs slightly, snuggling back against him. He's already hard, his erection nestled against her bottom, and he has to resist the urge to move against her, to release some of the tension thrumming through him.

Sliding his hand up, he lets it glide over her warm skin until he's cupping her breast. He runs his thumb across her nipple, smiling as it hardens in response, then moves to the other one, doing the same before tracing a line back down the middle of her torso until he reaches her panties. By this point, Veronica's breathing has changed and he knows she's awake—or at least on the verge of being so. A soft sound of contentment mixed with approval escapes her lips and he takes it as an invitation to continue.

He dips his fingers beneath the elastic of her underwear, sliding two fingers between her lips. She's already wet, and as he begins stroking gently, her breath hitches and she starts to move against him.

"Logan…" Her voice is barely more than a sigh but he hears it just the same.

"I'm sorry about last night," he whispers near her ear, even as he slides a finger inside her. She moans in response. "I don't think either of us wanted it to be like that."

"No… I, uh…" She sucks in a sharp gasp as he flicks her clit with his thumb. "I'm sorry. Shouldn't have pushed it…. God, that feels good."

"Wanna make up for it now?" he murmurs, dropping a kiss to the side of her neck.

"God, yes!" The enthusiastic exclamation is a response to both his question and to the fact that he's just slid another finger inside her, and he grins against the back of her neck as he strokes in and out, pressing his thumb against her clit.

"That's it," he whispers encouragingly. "Come for me."

"Oh God… oh God… oh God…" she mutters over and over, pressing back against him as her inner muscles tighten around his fingers and she tips over the edge.

"Love you," Logan kisses the side of her neck as she comes down from the high.

"Love you, too," she murmurs, tone dreamy, though she lets out a groan of protest when he slides his fingers out of her.

"Just a sec," he says reassuringly.

He tugs off his boxers, then gestures for her to shift onto her back so he can slide her panties down over her hips. She obliges, then pulls her shirt over her head before settling back against the pillows. Logan returns to his previous position, his body pressed against her side and his head propped on his hand, as his other hand rests over her stomach.

When she looks up at him almost quizzically, like she's confused about why he's not doing anything, he just smiles, then leans over and captures her mouth in a loving kiss.

"Mmm," she sighs into his mouth, her hand coming up to cup his cheek as he shifts again, moving over her.

She parts her legs and he settles between her thighs. His length presses against her clit and she gasps when he tilts his hips forward, caressing the sensitive spot. He smiles against her mouth and does it again. This time, she makes a soft mewling sound and he can't help but give a small, throaty chuckle. He tries for a third time, but Veronica breaks the kiss and looks at him sternly… or at least, it would be stern if she wasn't pouting so adorably.

"Stop teasing."

"Sorry." He grins. "I'll be good."

"I don't want to you be good," she retorts playfully. "I want you to be sensational. I want you to make me see stars."

"You do, huh?" he says. "We'll have to see about that."

"You'd better," she responds, tone threatening.

"Noted."

He kisses her again as he slides inside her waiting body. She feels amazing, all hot and tight and so ready for him. This is what sex—no, making love—with her is supposed to be like: not rushed or forced or timed to the minute, but soft and sensual and loving and intimate. He takes his time this time, making sure she's enjoying it, bringing her to orgasm twice more before he finds release himself.

Afterwards, as they curl up together and Veronica drifts back to sleep again, Logan can't seem to quiet his mind. As he watches her sleep, features soft and relaxed, he can't help but wonder if maybe all they've just done is put a Band Aid on the problem instead of actually fixing it.

Early August 2019

The Band Aid doesn't last more than ten days.

It lulls Logan into a false sense of security, because at first everything's fine, better than fine, even; they laugh and joke and make love like they always have, and it's as if last week didn't happen. In fact, they haven't even spoken of it since. Of course, he should have realised that was a red flag, should have known it wouldn't last forever… that it couldn't last. It's on Saturday morning, more than a week later, that everything comes crashing down.

He wakes slowly, his hand sliding across the mattress, and finding Veronica's side of the bed empty. He frowns; it's not like her to be up early on the weekend—that's normally his forte.

"Veronica?" he mumbles in question, prying his eyes open and propping himself up on one elbow.

A quick glance around the room shows he's alone, and the sound of Pony pawing at the bedroom door means Veronica is neither downstairs nor out walking her. Logan sits up, running his hands down over his face, then pulls back the sheets and slides out of the bed. He grabs a shirt from the floor and tugs it over his head. Leaving the room, he greets Pony, ruffling the fur on her head, before heading down the hall toward the bathroom. The door is closed, which means Veronica's in there.

He gives it a gentle knock with his knuckles. "Veronica? Can I come in?"

There's a short pause before she responds. "Yeah."

He opens the door to find her perched on the toilet seat, her elbows resting on her knees, toes pointed inwards. She holds a small, white stick in her hands. It's not an unfamiliar sight; he's lost track of how many pregnancy tests she's taken in the last three months, but her eyes are red-rimmed and he can see tears glistening on her cheeks.

"What's wrong?" He steps forward into the room, then drops to his knees in front of her, his hands coming to rest on the sides of her legs.

"I was so sure," she mumbles. "I felt… I mean, I thought something felt different this time, but…"

She holds out the stick to him, the single red line displayed prominently, like it's taunting them.

Not Pregnant.

His heart sinks and his eyes slide closed, disappointment flooding through him. He pushes it down though, and instead slides his hands further up her legs as he leans in closer, touching his forehead to hers.

"Veronica, I'm so sorry."

She nods, forehead moving against his. "Yeah."

"It's okay," he says reassuringly. "We'll just keep trying."

"I don't think I can anymore, Logan." Her voice is soft and weary.

"Don't say that," he says, the words coming out a little more firmly than he intends. "It's gonna happen, I know it will."

"You don't know that." She shakes her head, closing her eyes. "I can't keep going through this emotional rollercoaster every month, Logan. It's too hard."

"But think of the end result," he counters encouragingly. "When all of the hard work will have been worth it."

"It might not though," she says. "What if it's all been for nothing?"

"It won't be. I'm sure of it," he insists. "You can't give up now."

Veronica straightens, pulling away from him, her eyebrows drawn together in a suspicious frown as she studies him. "Why are you pushing this?"

"I'm not pushing it," he tries to protest. "I'm just—"

"No, you're pushing it," she interrupts, sliding off the toilet seat and moving across the room. "This is my body, and I get to decide what happens to it."

"I never said you didn't." Logan stands, turning to face her.

"Maybe not in so many words, but it feels like you're trying to pressure me into something I'm not comfortable with."

Logan stiffens at that, unable to ignore the connotations associated with her words, memories of his abusive father suddenly rearing their ugly heads. "I would never do that to you, you know that."

"Yeah, okay. I do know that," she admits. "But something's going on with you, and I want to know what it is."

"Nothing's going on, Veronica," he denies quickly. "I just think it's too early to throw in the towel. You know it can take a while."

Veronica looks down at the test in her hand, then places it on the counter behind her. When she looks up at him, there are fresh tears in her eyes.

"But we don't have a while." Her tone is pained. "There's like an 80% chance of the blockages returning within the next three months."

"But that's all the more reason not to give up now," he reasons.

"I just… I'm so tired, Logan," she says, crossing her arms over her chest protectively. "This is taking over my life. I'm stressed, and exhausted and even sex is starting to become a chore. I mean, look at what happened last week."

"Yeah," Logan nods sadly. "I know. It was—"

"Bad sex. Yeah," she finishes, her gaze not quite meeting his. "I mean, how did we even get to that?"

"I don't know."

"I was so fixated on timing and logistics that I ruined the whole thing." She looks at him fully now. "This is what I mean; I can't keep doing this."

"Look," Logan starts, moving toward her. He unfolds her arms from her chest and takes her hands in his. "I can only imagine how you must be feeling right now, but we will get through this."

"Maybe." She gives a small nod, glancing down at their joined hands as she says, "But it's not just the baby stuff."

He frowns in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"I'm not happy here, Logan," she confesses softly.

"Wait, what? You're not…?" He trails off, her words causing Logan to straighten in surprise. He sucks in a breath before speaking again, "Okay, look, I know moving here wasn't your first choice, but I thought... I mean, you've seemed happy enough."

"I've been trying, for you." She looks back up at him again. "And I thought I was doing okay, But I'm not. I miss my old life. I miss my dad, I miss Mac and Wallace. I miss Neptune. You have this, like, ready-made life here: your job, friends, colleagues; but I have nothing."

"You don't have nothing," Logan responds quickly. What is happening right now? "You have me and Pony; you have Sarah, you have Chaos, and Nick and Amy. You're starting a business here. That's not nothing."

"It kinda feels like it," she says. "I mean, Sarah, Chaos, Amy… even Nick…they were all your friends first, not mine. Most of the time it feels like I'm just going through the motions, because I have to; because I don't have a choice."

That hits a nerve with Logan. It's not like he wanted to move here either, but he had to suck it up and go with it, because sometimes in life you have to make sacrifices for the sake of your career. He releases her hands and takes a step back, running a hand across his head.

"You knew what you were signing up for when you agreed to move," he counters. "You didn't have to come, you know—"

"Of course I did, I'm your wife." she cuts in over the top of him.

"—I mean, it was your choice—" he continues as if she hasn't spoken, on a roll now.

"What, and spend even more time doing long-distance?" she retorts. "I don't think so."

"—And if you're so unhappy here, maybe you should just go back to California?"

She stops, chest rising up and down with barely restrained breaths as her eyes narrow, jaw sets.

"You know what? Maybe I will," she responds tightly as she brushes past him. "Excuse me."

She breezes past him and out of the door, leaving Logan bewildered.

"What the hell?" he mutters, wondering how they got from a negative pregnancy test to Veronica talking about returning to California. "Veronica, wait."

Exiting the bathroom, he follows her back into the bedroom. He comes to a sharp halt in the doorway, the blood draining from his face when she pulls a small suitcase out of the closet and places it on the bed.

"What are you doing?"

She shoots him an incredulous look as she returns to the closet and grabs several hangers of clothing from it. "What does it look like? I'm going back to California."

"Shit, Veronica, I wasn't serious," he protests as she starts packing the clothes into the suitcase.

"No?" She raises an eyebrow. "Sounded like it to me."

"Don't be stupid." He crosses the room, stepping in front of her when she turns toward the dresser. "Let's just talk about this, okay?"

"I'm not being stupid," she said, her tone tinged with frustration. "I need some space, Logan. I need to get away from here for a while. I need a change of scenery."

"Okay, so I'll book some vacation time," he suggests. "Your birthday's coming up; we can go on a trip somewhere, take some time to relax and unwind, away from all this."

She shakes her head. "I need some time for myself, Logan. I'm gonna go stay with my dad for a while. He keeps asking when I'm coming for a visit anyway."

Logan takes in the determined expression on her face. She's not going to back down on this.

Taking his chances, he goes in for the kill, hoping she doesn't hate him for it."You know, it feels an awful lot like you're running away again."

She stiffens, her eyes going wide at the accusation.

"No, Logan… I'm not," she says firmly. "I just—I need some time, okay? Just let me have some time. Please?"

Logan studies her for a long moment, every fibre of his being screaming out not to let her leave, but as he takes in the pain and desperation in her eyes, mixed in with fierce determination, he realises he doesn't have a choice. She's made up her mind; she's going no matter what he says.

"Okay. Fine," he relents. "I won't stop you going. But just know that I'm not gonna let you run away from this, okay? You're gonna take some time—and please don't let it be too long—and then you're gonna come back and we're gonna work through this."

"Yeah." She nods. "Okay."

Thank God. He gives an internal sigh of relief. He thought she was going to put up more of a fight.

"Look, I need to take a shower," he says then. "Then we'll get you sorted with a flight and I'll drive you to the airport." He holds up a finger in warning. "And don't even think about sneaking off while I'm in there, okay?"

"Fine." She huffs a disgruntled sigh. "I won't go anywhere."

"Good."

Logan turns, leaving the room. He holds himself together until he's safely inside the bathroom, the door locked behind him.

How the hell did we even get to this point? he wonders, letting his head fall back against the door. I thought she was happy here, that we'd be okay because we're together. How the hell did I miss how miserable she is here, how much the last few months have been affecting her?

Pushing himself away from the door, he moves to the shower, turning it on, before shucking his clothes and stepping inside.