All Things Which Cease To Be... (VM, ADULT) COMPLETE

[Applebylicious]

Title: All Things Which Cease To Be, Begin Anew
Author: Lindsay
Pairing/Character: Logan/Veronica
Rating: ADULT
Disclaimer: Rob Thomas owns all. Me, as well.
Word Count: 6,981
Summary: Two lost souls get a second chance. Oh, and summaries suck.
Spoilers/Warnings: Everything up to One Angry Veronica, although I do go with the (highlight to read) spoilers for Donut Run which indicate Duncan naming the baby Lilly. Also, I downplayed the Manning/Kane custody battle because I just don’t see anyone but Duncan getting that bay-bee.
Author’s Note: Ass-slaps and high-fives to my beta, Sarah. *lubs you*
Written for the “Gift of Love” challenge over at Loveathons.
Feedback is much appreciated, and cookies may be given.




Veronica observed silently as Duncan’s pallbearers lowered his casket into the freshly hollowed earth, fingers bruising her arms as she held onto herself in an effort to keep from fleeing the scene. Running away, after all, was what she was accused of doing best. And there was no time like the present.

“Into thy hands, O merciful Savior, we commend thy servant Duncan Kane,” the minister intoned; hands held high as he beseeched the heavens above. “Receive him into the arms of thy mercy, into the blessed rest of everlasting peace...”

The keening sound of Celeste Kane weeping drowned out the priest's words, and Veronica was surprised that Celeste would abandon herself to such theatrics. The female dynamo of the Kane Empire had never seemed so vulnerable or lost, and Veronica was plagued by a fleeting sympathy for the woman who had literally made her life hell in more ways than one over the years.

Tiny fingers tightened on the hem of her skirt, and she glanced down to find a miniature Meg Manning looking up at her with wide, blue eyes. Duncan’s eyes. Veronica released the hold on her arm and reached down to take Lilly’s hand in her own, blinking back the tears that threatened her vision as Duncan and Meg’s daughter offered her a comforting smile. Wise beyond her mere five years, Lilly Kane spoke very self-assuredly, “Don’t cry, Aunt Ronnie. Daddy’s not hurting anymore. He’s with Mommy now.”

Aunt Ronnie. As always whenever she heard the term, Veronica had to wince. There had been only one other person who had ever called her Ronnie, and he hadn’t meant it as an endearment. But Lilly had never wanted to call her anything else.

Veronica straightened, knowing that thoughts of Logan weren’t going to help her get through the moments to come. She took a deep breath as the priest met her gaze from across the sea of people who’d come to pay their respects to Neptune’s most renowned son. She squeezed Lilly's hand, and then together, they moved forward.

Eyes trained upon her as they passed by; some questioning, others curious. Veronica’s lips tightened as a chorus of murmurs began to swell behind her. She couldn’t blame the others for their stares and questions, but she did blame them for not bothering to stifle their gossip in deference of the event taking place.

Then her gaze fell on Jake and Celeste. Duncan’s mother glared at her through slitted eyes, fingers curled as if she wished to wrap them around Veronica’s neck and choke the very life from the woman responsible for the death of her precious boy. Duncan had been the one fragile thread holding the Kanes together, and that thread had been severed. Celeste’s mind and body had soon followed.

Veronica suppressed a guilty shudder, turning her attention to the figurehead of the Kane legacy. The years had not been kind to Jake Kane, nor had the degeneration of his wife’s sanity. The proud man she’d once known was but a shell of his former self. Haunted, sunken eyes that had witnessed the burial of not one, but both of his children. Sallow skin that had seen more of the insides of offices than the lush weather of the tropics. His gaze drifted toward Lilly, and Veronica tightened her grip on Lilly’s hand. But Jake merely nodded imperceptibly, sadness creeping over his worn features as he took his wife’s arm and led her back, further away from the makeshift pulpit.

Veronica swallowed relief, although she knew that Jake had no interest in taking Duncan’s child. Celeste might, but without her husband’s powerful support there was no way for Mrs. Kane to even attempt a proceeding. And in the end, Jake would respect Duncan’s wishes. And so would Veronica.

The cloying scent of funeral lilies filled her nostrils as she turned to meet the faces staring back at her. A ridiculous urge to rail at all of them nearly consumed her. None of them were here for Duncan. None of them knew the boy she’d once loved. They were only there for explanations, for fodder to twist and repeat back to the ones unfortunate enough to miss the occasion.

Closing her eyes, she longed for her father’s comforting gaze. To hear his voice, telling her that everything would be okay now. That it was time to move forward, to forget the past and concentrate on what the future held. But tracking down one bail jumper too many had silenced Keith Mars forever. And she’d been too busy, too distracted with other things, until it had been too late. Just one more regret to add to the long list that was slowly growing inside of her heart.

Lilly stood solemnly beside her, picture-perfect and protective as she refused to relinquish her grasp on Veronica’s hand. Veronica had to bite back a smile at her pint-sized defender. The child might not have understood the reasons for the animosity that was being generated by her grandmother - or the rest of Neptune's high society, but she did recognize that it was being aimed very carefully at Veronica, and Veronica alone. And she could more than sense Veronica's tension over being a target.

Veronica cleared her throat and the sound reverberated through the air, echoing over the speaker system as she struggled for the words to begin. “I fell in love with Duncan the first time I saw him,” she admitted in a voice husky from the silence she’d maintained over the course of the past hour. A wry smile lifted her lips. “Luckily, the feeling was mutual.”

Not even a titter from the stoic crowd, although Celeste did appear as if she were about to have an apoplexy. It was that alone that gave Veronica the courage to continue, despite the venomous eyes boring into her skull and threatening to strip away every last defense she had. She’d heard the rumors, that she’d let Duncan die when her fanatical campaign had taken a turn for the worse. And perhaps there was a bit of truth to them. But none of these vultures had been there. None of them had held his head in their hands as he’d taken his last breath, as he’d made her pledge the one thing she’d hoped he wouldn’t ask of her. Her eyes flicked to Lilly. The one thing she now couldn’t imagine giving up.

Veronica Mars had never thought of herself as a “kid person”. She couldn't even baby-sit well. That anyone would want to pass custody of their child onto her was ludicrous. And yet, here she was, making it work. When she envisioned the future, she’d always pictured herself and some nameless person living in wedded bliss – or unwedded, as the case may be – with maybe a dog or two. But children? No, she’d had enough aggravation in her lifetime already.

And yet she loved Lilly. It was impossible not to love Lilly, for like her namesake she was a whirlwind of capricious, quirky attitude with all of the intelligence to go with it. Only, this Lilly showed signs of knowing when to stop. Veronica could only attribute that to Duncan’s influence, and the love he’d shown his daughter during the time they’d been together.

“The thing I loved most about him is the thing I’ll miss the most,” Veronica continued, warming up to her topic as she kept her gaze trained on some undeterminable point over the heads of the guests. “And that’s his…purity.” She swallowed, thinking of how, five years ago, the last thing she would have labeled Duncan as would have been pure.

Fresh with the news of Meg’s progressing pregnancy, and Duncan’s attempts to hide the truth from her, Veronica had been ready to bring down a world of pain and betrayal on her then-boyfriend. Duncan was supposed to be the love of her life. He was supposed to wait forever for her, and not impregnate one of her best friends, even if they were separated. And he definitely, definitely was not supposed to fall for said best friend.

But Duncan had, and Veronica had been forced to face the truth when she’d seen his face during Meg’s funeral. The pain he’d tried so hard to disguise from her, for her. Because one thing was obvious to Veronica: he'd never wanted to hurt her. Despite that, Duncan saw right through her. He recognized that she would never again love him the way she once had--so blindly, so blithely. No, he knew that she'd come back to him because he was pure. Safe. Gentle. He threatened nothing in her new and tidy world, and she could easily control him and mold him and fit him inside of the pristine little box labeled Boyfriend - to take out when needed, and stored away again with little effort. And at that time in her life, that suited her perfectly. The fantasy was what she wanted. She’d already had “real”, and it had nearly destroyed her.

She and Duncan had broken up with no hurt feelings on either side, and had remained good friends through everything that had happened afterward. The custody war with the Mannings, her father’s death. Logan’s trial for the murder of Felix Tombs. His conviction. It was that last bitter pill which had been particularly hard to swallow.

In point of fact, Veronica had refused to. Logan’s being sent to prison had served as a wake-up call of enormous proportion for a woman whose new watchword had been “normal”. Nothing was normal when Logan Echolls was involved. But despite their less than stellar history, Veronica refused to ignore what she knew in her heart to be true - that Logan was innocent - of this crime at least. She couldn't have not investigated Lilly's murder, and she wouldn't stand idly by while Logan was devoured by the police, the media, the public.

She’d easily rallied Duncan to her cause, knowing that he felt more than his own share of guilt where Logan was concerned. And the two of them had gone to work, scouring the city for anyone and anything that could be used to prove Logan’s innocence before it was too late. They’d succeeded, and it had cost them both more than they’d been prepared to lose. The events from three nights ago would live on in her nightmares forever – the triumph upon discovering the truth about Hector Cortez, and the ensuing horror as she’d watched Duncan take a bullet that had been meant for her. She’d been careless that night, still grieving over the loss of her father and consumed by the fervent need to prove Logan’s innocence. And she’d paid for it dearly, the blood of one of her closest friend’s imprinted on her palms forever.

She’d never forget the look in Duncan’s eyes that night, the words he’d managed as she’d stared down at him in glazed shock. Promise me. The same words Meg had uttered in the hospital room several years before. Promise me you’ll watch after her. As before, Veronica had promised.

She continued to deliver the eulogy, highlighting particular moments of Duncan’s life that made her smile, without glossing over anything that didn’t. She spoke of his bond with Lilly, ignoring the outraged gasp from Celeste Kane’s direction. She told of his love for Meg, for his daughter. She spoke of his friendship with Logan, her voice breaking slightly as she admitted his role in helping to free his one-time best friend. And all the while, strangers stared back at her. Never understanding the meaning behind the anecdotes she was narrating. Never knowing anything other than the fact that a prominent figure in the community’s, and the world’s, son had died of tragic circumstance.

Veronica's voice wavered as she began the last part of her memorial. "I may not have always been in love with Duncan, but I never stopped loving him. He gave me the most precious gift I never thought I would have wanted."

A flicker of movement in her peripheral vision caught her attention, and she looked over to find a startling familiar pair of brown eyes piercing her. Her throat clogged with emotion as she stared back at Logan, standing on the outside of the crowd near the edge of the cemetery. It was obvious from the expression on his face that he was reluctant to come closer. That he felt he didn’t belong.

Veronica continued to hold his gaze until tears blurred his image. Knowing she needed to look away or risk losing it in front of a crowd of media-hungry vultures, she took a deep breath and stared at the podium before her to conclude her speech. "Duncan gave me Lilly. And she is my love now.”

When she looked up again, he was gone.


~*~

“…a thousand two, a thousand three…”

“Lilly, what are you doing?” Veronica snapped, breaking out of the daze she’d been in since leaving the funeral earlier that afternoon. Since seeing Logan. Her pulse was still pounding crazily, leaving her shaky and jumpy. It hadn’t helped that Logan had disappeared before she’d had a chance to end her speech. Without even speaking to her, or thanking her for what she’d sacrificed to help him.

Aaand…there she went, heaping blame and accusation on Logan when he’d yet to even do anything. It was ridiculous, the way he affected her. Here she was, as sulky and moody as a scorned lover. She had no right to feel this way. Not anymore. Not for a long time.

“I’m counting to see if the storm’s coming or going,” Lilly replied, undaunted by Veronica’s irritation. “It’s getting closer, Aunt Ronnie.”

A slash of lightening followed her proclamation, and Veronica shivered as a strange electric current filled the air. Feeling silly and superstitious, she glanced out the window, but it was impossible to see anything through the downpour that had started an hour earlier. Still…she couldn’t shake off the feeling that she was being watched.

“I think I’m ready for bed,” Lilly said quietly, distracting her as she came over to snuggle in Veronica’s lap. Veronica swallowed the hard, sad lump that rose in the back of her throat as the little girl pressed her face into her neck, bugglegum shampoo scenting the hair that brushed up against her cheek.

“It’s been a long day,” Veronica replied, dropping a kiss on the top of Lilly’s head. “I think I’m ready for bed, too.”

They sat in companionable silence for several moments, listening to the rain as it beat softly against the roof. When Lilly’s breathing grew soft and even, Veronica carried her to the tiny bedroom off of her own and tucked her in. Her fingers brushed across a petal-soft cheek as she drew in a deep breath and returned to the living room.

She turned off all of the lights, sinking into the sofa and covering her face with her hands. All at once, the truth became profound and inescapable. She was truly alone now. She and Lilly. Wallace had long ago given up on her, subsiding to occasional emails which were stiff with a forced politeness that broke Veronica’s heart every time she opened one. She couldn’t blame him, but the facts didn’t erase the pain that colored the memories they’d once shared together. He was creating new memories now, with a family of his own. And needed nothing to do with her. She supposed there was always Mac, but her brilliant and eccentric friend had moved on to bigger and better things than Neptune, California, as well.

Duncan had been the last tangible thread to the life she’d once lived. Now that he was gone…what was really keeping her here? Who would care if she and Lilly packed up and left? Celeste would throw a fit, but there wouldn’t be anything she could truly do to stop it. And sometimes Veronica felt like she’d expire, herself, if she stayed any longer.

A loud clap of thunder made her jump, and the rapid beating of her heart answered the question as easily as if she’d had someone there with her. Duncan wasn’t the final thread, wasn’t the one thing tethering her to a town that had never really wanted her to begin with. Lightening flashed again, and she glanced absently out of the window, then straightened so fast that two sofa cushions fell to the floor.

A lone figure stood in the middle of the street, identity concealed by the darkness. But she knew. She knew, and the nervous energy that coursed through her veins nearly left her feeling sick. And yet, she couldn’t move. Simply stared as lightening illuminated his expression, as his eyes held hers once again. And then she was running to the door, throwing it open and bounding down the stairs so quickly that she nearly tripped twice on the slick pavement.

He remained frozen as she approached, rain pelting them both and soaking her through to the bone. She paused a few steps away, salty tears mixing with the purer drops from above. “Logan?” she choked out, the sound lost in the crash of thunder that followed.

The storm was a magnificent backdrop for him -wild and vengeful, with a power that was impossible to control - and impossible not to be drawn to. Her pulse thrummed as he half-lowered his lids, mouth parting to answer in a voice heady with emotion, “V-Veronica.”

It was then she noted that he was shivering, and his lips held a faint bluish tint. Forgetting everything that stood between them – both figuratively and literally – she closed the distance and took his arm. With a start, she exclaimed, “You’re freezing! How long have you been standing out here?”

His lips trembled into a smile. “F-Forever…” he replied gruffly, eyes flashing as they stared at one another. Then, “C-Can you spare a cup of h-hot water?”

She gaped at him, blinking at the typically sarcastic response, then burst into tears. “You idiot!” she whispered, punching him solidly in the arm before dragging him across the street toward her apartment. “Have you completely lost whatever sense you ever had?”

“I th-thought we’d determined that a l-long time ago, Veronica,” he answered, speech broken by the chattering of his teeth. Despite it all, the sound of him saying her name again sent a ripple of sharp awareness through her.

Feeling her face heat as she thrust open the door, she pulled him inside and guided him toward the kitchen. “Yes, well, you’ve never tried to prove either of us wrong, have you, Logan?”

He didn’t reply, and she turned to find him studying the small room with unreadable eyes. A sudden flash of insecurity gnawed at her as she waited to hear his opinion on her small living quarters, and she busied herself by starting a pot of coffee while the weight of his silence hung in the air. Just when she thought that she might go crazy, his voice came from somewhere to her left, and she turned to find him studying a photo that had been taken nearly three months ago.

“So…you and Duncan lived together.”

His question was an ill-disguised jumble of grief, curiosity, and jealousy. She had sympathy for the first, understood the second, and wondered at the third. Was it even possible for him to be jealous where she was concerned, or was she merely coloring things as she saw fit? Whatever they’d shared had been so long ago…surely he’d put it behind him by now. Just because she hadn’t, meant nothing.

“We did, for awhile,” she answered after a beat of silence. “It just…made sense. He didn’t feel comfortable at the estate, what with Lilly…” She trailed off, noting the stricken look that swept across his face.

“He n-named her Lilly?” he questioned hoarsely, fingers clenching on the countertop as he gazed at her through those intense eyes.

Veronica could only nod, feeling his stare like a veritable stroke. Resisting the urge to shiver, she added, “And…I liked having them here. I had the room, anyway.”

He held her gaze for a long, tension-filled moment, then gestured to himself and said, “Do you mind if I…?”

Veronica’s eyes followed, and she blinked at the clothing that clung to him like a second skin. The material outlined every ridge and tendon, and she started when she realized that she was staring. Flustered and embarrassed, she answered in a high-pitched tone, “No! God, let me get you a towel…and some of Duncan’s things.”

“Well, I’ve never had a problem wearing his stuff before,” Logan grinned, although the expression and his voice lacked any real humor. Veronica chose not to comment as he followed her through the hallway and into her bedroom.

When she turned, he nearly ran into her, his hands coming up to rest on her shoulders as he steadied himself. The action brought their bodies within a hairsbreadth of one another, and the words in her throat died a slow death as she looked up to find him staring back at her.

“The…the towels are in…here,” she managed with a half-hearted fling of her hand, appalled by her breathy tone. The man had to be half-frozen and here she was, close to drowning him in a puddle of her own drool.

His eyes flickered toward the bathroom she indicated, then returned to her. “Thanks,” he said in a low voice. Neither of them moved. Then he added, “I think the coffee’s ready.”

She heard it then, too, the faint sound of a buzzer. “Oh, shit,” she gasped, taking quick advantage of the excuse he’d handed her. She felt wound too tight, thrumming with an anticipation that she hadn’t experienced in years.

As she carefully filled two large mugs, she gave herself a quiet scolding and closed her eyes, drawing deep breaths before returning to her room. “I hope this helps a bit…” she trailed off, coming to a complete halt as she caught sight of him, standing at the end of the bed. In his underwear. The coffee fell to the floor, unnoticed, as she began backing away, cheeks flaming.

“Oh my God, I’m so--”

“It’s all right,” he broke in, rubbing the towel across his hair as he eyed her hesitantly. “Veronica, I’m not going to bite you.”

Oh, would you, please? She banished the thought as soon as it sprang forth in her mind, shocked by her own desires. For God’s sake, she’d buried her best friend today, and yet here she was…fawning all over Logan like some sort of sex-starved teenager.

His eyes saw too much, and he sent her a knowing gaze that baffled her before tucking the towel around his hips and moving toward the bathroom. Seconds later, the underwear fell to the floor with a wet thud, and she lifted her hand to cover the surprised squeak that erupted.

Logan’s head popped around the corner and there was something lurking within the depths of his eyes that hadn’t been there before. “Clothes?”

“What?” she wondered stupidly, then wanted to smack herself. “Oh. Oh,” she repeated. “Yeah, I’ll go…get some…” She started out, then turned back and grabbed his clothes to take with her. “I’ll throw these in the dryer,” she called, hoping that her voice sounded as calm and collected as she wished she was.

On her way to the laundry room, she caught sight of herself in the hall mirror and froze, horror and disbelief coloring her features as she stared at her visage. “Oh, for the love of…” No wonder he’d appeared so amused.

She’d somehow forgotten that her own clothes were soaked, and the white t-shirt she’d put on earlier was now a mere transparent slip of cotton. Everything she possessed was clearly outlined, and she was either extremely cold or extremely aroused. Or both. A bit of righteous indignation began to swell as she turned to stalk back into the bedroom and tell him exactly what she thought about him ogling her. The fact that she’d definitely returned the favor, notwithstanding.

“Logan, I…” she trailed off, the faint sounds of weeping reaching her ears from inside the closed bathroom. Her silly anger evaporated and tears began to sting her own eyes as she moved forward and pressed her forehead against the door. “Logan?”

When she didn’t receive a response, she debated for a long moment before biting her lip and turning the knob. She found him, curled up in the corner of the room, face hidden in muscular arms as sobs racked his body. The sight devastated her more than anything she’d seen that day.

“Logan,” she repeated, voice thick with worry as she moved to join him. He didn’t look up, but his spine stiffened as she placed a hesitant hand on his arm. “Logan, look at me.”

When he finally did, his eyes were red-rimmed and glazed, features flushed with pain. “He’s really gone, Veronica,” he said in a wavering voice. “He died and it’s all my fucking fault. And a part of me is glad, because I’m out. I never have to go back to that place, and I’m glad when my fucking friend had to die for it to be possible.”

“That’s not true,” she denied, shaking her head slowly as she squeezed his arm. “Logan, I know that’s not true. You’d never—”

“I’d never what, Veronica?” he interrupted harshly, pulling away from her to run a hand through his hair. It was then that she noticed the faint scar that ran the length of his forehead; something that had happened since the last time she’d seen him - during his trial. A sick feeling began to stir in the pit of her stomach, and it was merely solidified when he continued.

“Do you have any idea what it’s like in there? What a person would do to leave it all behind? It’s not Hell, it’s worse than…it’s…” he swallowed, looking away as he muttered, “It’s sheer fucking torture.”

“What happened to you?” she whispered, voice shaking as she began to imagine all sorts of awful things that he might have gone through during the three years he’d spent inside a federal penitentiary before she and Duncan had been able to prove his innocence.

Haunted eyes met her own, and she gripped his arm again, harder. “Logan, what happened?” she demanded, knowing that she was close to shrieking now, but her heart was pounding too loudly to notice.

Instead of answering her, he posed a question of his own. “Why, Veronica? Why did you do it?”

She was taken aback by this; but recovered in time to say, “Do what?”

“Why did you save me?” he demanded thickly, jaw so tight that a muscle there ticced. “I thought you believed I…”

“You thought I believed you were guilty,” she finished dully, wondering why the statement was such a shot to the heart. After all, she’d never given Logan Echolls any reason to think that she believed anything but the worst of him – only because she’d been so terrified by the way he made her feel. By the things he made her want to risk, which was everything.

“Didn’t you?” There was no bitterness in his voice, merely a sort of resigned acceptance that tore into her more than any anger ever could have. “When you never came to see me, I just thought…”

“I couldn’t,” she choked out, blinking back tears that threatened to fall. “Don’t you see, I couldn’t? Because I knew if I did…if I saw you in th-that place, I’d…”

His eyes flared. “You’d what, Veronica?”

She opened her mouth, but no sound came out until he reached down to interlace her fingers with his own. She stared at them so hard that her eyes began to burn. “It would have killed me, okay?” she managed, lower lip quivering as she risked a glance up at him. “I never thought you did it, Logan. Even when things were bad between us…I never—”

“And things between us now are good?”

Her mouth clicked shut, not knowing what to say to that. “Logan—”

“I missed you,” he broke in, voice taut with some unnamed emotion. “Every goddamn day I thought about you, and I wondered if you’d given up on me. If you thought of me as some crazed…murderer…” He shuddered from an invisible chill, and she broke a little more, inside.

“No,” she protested forcefully. “No.”

“How was I supposed to know, Veronica?” he asked, and his voice cracked. “Like you said, things were so fucking bad between us…I was so sure that you’d find some way to keep me from that place, until it was too late. Then I began to wonder why I ever thought you would, and now that you have…I just don’t know…”

She made a soft sound, and threw her arms around him as tears slid down her cheeks. He froze at the contact, but didn’t try to move away as she pressed her face against his naked collarbone, breathing in the scent of rain and musk and…Logan. Just Logan.

“Veronica.” His voice was strained, husky. His fingers found her chin, and she found her face lifted upward, before his mouth closed over her own, lips hot and demanding.

She returned the kiss with a passion that momentarily scared her, as it always had with him. “I missed you, too,” she managed between sloppy kisses and half-sobs. Her fingers anchored in his hair, as if she were afraid he would disappear if she let go.

His arms wrapped around her, hands running up and down the length of her back as he angled his head again and again, looking for ways to deepen the kiss. Neither one of them could get close enough.

She wasn’t sure who made the first move, but suddenly they were tangled together on her bed, hands and lips roaming, teeth nibbling as gasps and moans broke the silence. Veronica threw her head back as his nimble fingers slid beneath her shirt, finding a plump nipple and tugging it ruthlessly. At the same time, his other hand jerked her pants and underwear down in one fell motion, and his fingers sank inside of her.

“Oh, G-God…” she shuddered, rolling beneath him as he stared down at her with an expression so intense that she felt like she should have been frightened. But she was too far gone now.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmured, fingers still playing with her body as she writhed and cried out. “I thought about this…so many damn times…about you…”

“Logan?” She heard her own voice, desperate and pleading as she arched into him. “Please…”

“Tell me you want me, Veronica. For Christ’s sake, tell me you want me. I’ve waited years to hear you say…” He trailed off with a groan as she lifted her head and captured one of his nipples in her mouth.

She wasn’t sure why she did it; it wasn’t kinky, per say, but it was definitely nothing she’d ever tried with Duncan. And yet, with Logan, it felt as natural as breathing. And it left her feeling giddy and…hot. And wanting.

As if reading her mind, his thumb found her clit and began drawing slow circles around it as she sucked on him in tandem. Soon, the building pressure was too much for her to resist and she fell back on an open-mouthed whimper as pleasure burst inside of her. She clung to him, rocking back and forth and sobbing deliriously with ecstasy as he panted softly in her ear.

“I’m going to fuck you now,” he said, as if she really needed an explanation. His words and his actions were crude as he parted her legs and settled between them, and she liked it more than she wanted to admit. But then, she always had.

When he drove inside of her, they both froze, eyes locking together. An unrecognizable sound escaped his throat, and he pulled back, thrusting again. She clamped her legs around his waist, encouraging him as he buried his face in her throat. His teeth sank into her skin, and she gasped as his movements increased, nearly primal in their fervor. She felt as if she were being possessed by him. Owned by him.

She arched up to meet him; trying to relieve the ache he stirred, that only he could cure. She spread her legs wider, willing him to sink deeper, faster, harder, to fill her completely, from the tips of her fingers to her toes, to the strings of her heart. Wide blue eyes stared up at him, watching his mouth fall open and a long-suffering growl spill forth. He was so close, she could feel it, feel her own orgasm, rising like Venus from the tides.

"Come for me," he whispered, bracing his forearm on the pillow next to her cheek. "Come with me, Veronica, please."

It was the plea that broke her, the fear behind it that he wasn’t capable of pleasuring her. She submitted to him, and for the first time in her life, Veronica Mars was left defenseless. She gasped, a throaty moan of pulsing satisfaction. Logan was starting to spasm between her hips, joining her as a wave of unexcelled bliss crested through her body, starting at her knees and traveling upwards, consuming her.

Minutes, hours later…he rolled off of her onto his side, wincing as one of his overworked muscles protested. Unwilling to leave the warmth of his body, she wrapped herself around him and broke the awkward silence with a fervent whisper. “I love you, Logan. I always have.”

He buried his face into her hair, crushing her against his chest. He didn't answer her. She felt him trembling against her, and she just let him cry...

~*~


It was the stillness that woke her.

She’d never been a heavy sleeper, and although she’d grown used to being by herself over the years, the slightest noise still disturbed her each and every time. Only this time…it was nothing that had startled her from pleasant dreams of a future to come.

Sleepily, disoriented, she glanced around for the source of her unease. Faint sunlight beamed through the pulled curtains, spilling across the bed in stripes of reddish-gold. It was then that she realized what was wrong.

Logan was gone.

She sat up abruptly, the sheet slipping past her breasts as she stared at the empty side of the bed where the imprint of his body still existed. She reached out with trembling fingers to find the sheets cold. Tears filled her eyes, as did the realization that last night had been nothing but fanciful wishes on her part.

So, she had two options. She could forget everything that had happened between them, and forever regret that she hadn’t tried to hold onto happiness with both hands, or she could fucking fight to hold onto it. Brushing at her eyes, she jumped out of bed and grabbed the first article of clothing she found – which happened to be Logan’s shirt.

Pulling it over her head, she found her pants and tugged them up her hips, determination settling into her mind and body as she thought of what she would say to the idiot once she found him again. After she informed him that no one, no one ran out on Veronica Mars. Not ever again.

She stormed out of the bedroom, already planning Logan’s surrender when she realized that the door to Lilly’s room was standing wide open. Since she knew Lilly never got up earlier than she had to – taking after her aunt yet again – it gave her pause, and she headed toward the room with bated breath. She wasn’t entirely sure what she expected to find, but it certainly wasn’t Logan – kneeling by the young girl’s bed and stroking her hair. She fell against the door, stifling the urge to cry out in relief and question.

She needn’t have bothered; he glanced up the moment she approached with eyes both anguished and satisfied. “She’s beautiful,” he admitted, turning back to study the sleeping daughter of their friend. “I’d almost forgotten…Lilly always wanted children. She never quite seemed like the type, but there you go.”

Veronica laughed softly. "She would have been a terrible mother," she pointed out as she padded over to him and sank to her knees next to him. "But the kids would have been gorgeous."

He remained quiet, just staring at Lilly as she slept. Veronica searched for something to add, when he blurted out, “I finally forgave her, you know. For everything. Weevil, my dad…her not giving a damn. I woke up one day in my cell and I just…wasn’t angry anymore.” He turned to meet her eyes, an expression of open vulnerability coloring his features. “What kind of idiot does that make me, Veronica?”

“It doesn’t make you an idiot,” she managed, laying a hand on his shoulder. “It makes you a compassionate human being, Logan. Lilly wasn’t perfect. None of us are. I think we both made the mistake of putting her and Duncan on pedestals they were only bound to fall off of.”

Before he could reply, Lilly stirred in her bed. Her lashes fluttered, then a pair of blue eyes stared at both of them. She took in Logan’s presence with a silent assessment, while he jumped nearly a foot in surprise.

“Uncle Logan,” Lilly finally said, in a voice that sounded as if she were a queen addressing her realm. Veronica had to hold a hand to her mouth to bite back hysterical laughter.

Any amusement fled as Logan turned to her with a dazed expression. Throat working, he demanded, “She knows my name?”

Her heart hurt for the doubt and insecurity she could read on his face. Before she could mention how absurd that was, that Duncan had regaled his daughter with nothing but the best and brightest about his best friend, Lilly continued with, " My daddy died to help you."

“Oh, my God.” Logan came abruptly to his feet, pale and shaking from head to toe.

“Lilly,” Veronica admonished, the color draining from her own features as her fingers clenched on Logan’s arm to prevent him from leaving.

But Lilly Kane merely peered at Logan intently for a long moment, then let out an accommodating sigh. “He loved you very much,” she added solemnly. “So, I love you, too.”

And Veronica watched as Logan Echolls was stripped to the very core, from the simple words of a five year old girl. She’d always wondered if he even had a breaking point. She’d often worried that he didn’t.

“I can’t…” he broke off, breathing heavily and trying to back away. Seeing as how he towered over her by a good foot and at least a hundred pounds, she was dragged along with him. “Veronica, let me go.”

“Never,” she denied softly, taking his other arm and using every bit of strength she possessed – and perhaps some help from those unseen, although that was probably more fanciful thinking, forced him to look at her. “Never again, Logan. Do you hear me?”

Yawning, and back to acting her tender age, Lilly protested. “I don’t want Uncle Logan to leave. I want him to stay and make me waffles.”

Logan choked, turning to look at Veronica with wild eyes. She merely smiled. “Waffles sound great, Lil. Why don’t you go into the kitchen and pull the batter out for us? I need to talk to Uncle Logan for a moment.”

Eyeing them intently and obviously coming to the conclusion that she’d have her way, Lilly shrugged and hopped out of bed. As soon as she disappeared from view, Veronica turned to Logan and said, “I saw you at Duncan’s funeral, Logan. I know you were there.”

“Yeah? So?” he said, trying for his usual attitude but failing miserably. Veronica wondered why she only now saw it for the defense mechanism it was.

“So, I know you heard what I said about Duncan. About Lilly.” When his eyes showed no understanding, she clarified meaningfully, “About Duncan giving Lilly to me and it being the best gift of all?”

He grunted, looking away as if searching for an escape. “Look, Veronica…I’m not going to try to replace Duncan, if that’s what you’re afraid of. I don’t even—”

“You wouldn’t be able to,” Veronica interrupted quickly. “You could never replace Duncan, Logan, because you are who you are. And Duncan was who he was. And I may have loved you both, but I need you. I need you. Do you understand now?”

He drew back like she’d slapped him, his expression bewildered. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to understand,” he answered. “What the hell are you asking, Veronica? For Christ’s sake, that little girl—”

“Loves you,” Veronica finished feverishly. “I love you, Logan. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. I’m not asking. I’m giving…to you. Me, Lilly…” She trailed off as tears clogged her throat; unable to continue she waved a hand flippantly.

He stared at her, something slowly dawning in his gaze as she stood before him, exposed for rejection at his own hands. They’d finally come full circle, to an extent, and part of her waited for him to gain the revenge she’d always thought he’d wanted. To leave her there, having declared herself to him.

Instead, he gathered her in his arms and whispered over and over, “I love you, I love you…”

She wasn’t aware she was crying until the salty tang met her lips. She cried out in relief and liberation, hugging him to her and finally tasting true freedom. Then and there, she believed in miracles, and she didn’t care how mushy that made her.