Fic: All your ghosts (Veronica Mars) rated NC-17
Title: All your ghosts
Author: JaqofSpades
Characters/Pairings: (Lilly)/Veronica; Veronica/Logan, Veronica/Weevil, Logan/Veronica/Weevil/(Lilly), Lilly/Weevil, Logan/Weevil
Rating: NC-17 (like, REALLY.) Explicit sexuality.
A/N: For the VM Secret Santa on Tumblr, to fill 2. of THIS request and ... Eli slipped in too.
Summary: Maybe she's still here because these people, the ones she loved the most, can't find it in themselves to love each other. Or maybe it's simpler than that, something about the sheer sexual energy they generate.
His fingers are collecting memories, trailing across her skin with a little too much tenderness for Veronica's liking. "Harder!" she snaps, and his sigh hurts, but she needs what she needs and he leaps to obey. Sometimes she wants to beg her to be nicer to him, but she can't quite remember what's come before, and why they are like this now.
(It's only when they do this that she forgets she's beginning to fade.)
He plucks and pulls and pinches his way across her body to help her find that place of pure sensation. Always thinking, thinking, thinking, their Veronica, and Logan has to work hard to push her over into utter abandonment. (She stamps her foot in frustration. My turn! But her turn never comes.)
Every shiver, every gasp he pulls from her is a reminder of what it was to be alive. She tries not to hate them for that (maybe it's hate keeping her here?) because it's been a long time, she thinks. Her body is lusher now, no longer straight up and down, and her little fox face is almost as sharp as her words. Bitter, bitter, bitter, their Veronica.
Amorality was always Lilly's thing, so it was strange to witness what her sweet, sunny girl had become. She'd seen the seeds of it, of course, the way she'd purse her lips in frustration and then smoothe it over with a smile, but this girl. So unexpected. Such a delicious, delicious treat, when she grew melancholy and came to him, drowning herself in those familiar, favourite sins.
(Lilly's sins. Lilly! I am Lilly, she remembers with a burst of pride.)
Veronica comes to Logan from her husband, then wipes away his touch with that of her lover. (Soft kisses, clever tongue, hot minutes in the back of her car, behind the dunes at Dog Beach, in the science block supply closet. She hadn't even known his other name, the one Veronica uses. "Eli," she had begged that first time, "please Eli," and Lilly was so surprised she had forgotten to be jealous.)
Not for long, though. Veronica belonged to Lilly, and wasn't allowed to love anyone else. Not like that. The way she had felt about Logan had scared her at first, but it had burnt out like a Catherine wheel, and now all that's left is old lust, and new hurt. He pines for her, but she's not interested in his love anymore - she comes to him looking for pain, perhaps, or the sting of guilt. Most nights, he delivers on both, bites and slaps and insults that leave her crying as she begs him to fuck her harder, but something's off tonight.
(Maybe that's what called her here. Maybe she's still here because these people, the ones she loved the most, can't find it in themselves to love each other. Or maybe it's simpler than that, something about the sheer sexual energy they generate. Let's face it. They fuck like animals, and that tends to light up the etheric grid.)
But there are tears tonight, trickling down her face as he moves above her, and when the light catches him, Lilly sees similar marks on Logan's face. Why are they crying when they could be fucking? It's a puzzle, but then, the living usually are.
(Maybe they need help of a different kind, Lilly smiles, and slides underneath Veronica. Lilly drinks in her sweet breath, and then moves lower until she can almost feel those pert little titties bouncing against her not-lips. Logan likes to suck them, roll them with his fingers and tongue, and she wants so badly to have a taste, so she opens her not-really mouth and drags her not-quite tongue over their roughness. Veronica gasps, and her eyes are blank with confusion, but's she's arching into Lilly's nothingness, and she has to believe, has to, that Veronica knows she's there. And if she's there ... she's going to be there instead, lapping at her juicy pussy, suckling on the bud and working her way around Logan's cock, drinking in the taste of them together. When Veronica begins to buck and wail, she returns to her clit, because if there's one thing Lilly always wanted, it was to have a pretty girl sucking her off while a pretty boy fucked her hard from behind. And what Lilly wants - Veronica has to get.)
Lilly wanted Veronica to learn to walk on the wild side, to relax a little, and loosen up. Red satin, she'd said, and that was exactly what Veronica had become - red satin, cut high on the leg, and plunging to her belly button in the front. Still classy, but too much edge to be nice anymore. Not that she needs to be. Mrs Duncan Kane can look however she damn well likes.
(Poor Donut never had a chance. His love story never did end, but Veronica's heart had been claimed twice over by the time he came back into her life. She and Logan hated each other then, and Weevil was in jail, so she smiled prettily and accepted the huge diamond Dad had managed to avoid giving Celeste.)
Then Weevil got out, and she fell, taking off her wedding ring and leaving it on Donut's bedside table with a note that said "gone to Mexico. Sorry."
If only she'd never come back, Lilly thinks now. Because two weeks later, she returned repentant, but one sin led to other sins, and Veronica's goodness fractured into a million shards of "I would never". Eli swore he'll never touch her again (swears it every time) and when she bumps into Logan at a spa in Denver, they're in bed before the day is out.
Lilly drifted away for a while, troubled, but then the energy blasted through her like sheer electricity and she could not imagine how they were generating so much heat. Just a little peek, she promised herself. A tiny one.
She couldn't look away.
Veronica was sitting in a chair at the end of the bed, watching them fuck. Dark and light together, the blunt instrument and the finely honed blade, both dangerous and beautiful and equally terrifying. (Why, why had this never occurred to her?) They hated each other still, those old enemies, but the biting and the scratching and the way they tried to fuck each other into the mattress said a lot about how much they love to hate. And then Veronica threw one leg over the arm of the chair, and howled her pleasure longer and louder than any of them had ever heard.
"Damn, girl! Just from watching?" Eli asked, and Lilly remembered what it was to be smug, because it was best, best, best when she had Veronica all to herself, that sweet pussy shuddering from her cold breath, surrendering to her phantom tongue, writhing from insubstantial fingers. Veronica moaned and bucked and surely those were her fingers, tangled in Lilly's hair, pulling hard, making her scalp sting and her pride swell?
It's her favourite might-have-been, being with Veronica. Donut had failed to rouse Veronica much beyond girlish devotion, and she had wondered ... well. Lilly liked boys. Mostly. But she loved Veronica, and knew there was more behind that secret little smile than her best friend let on. Of all the chances taken from her, that's the one that hurts the most.
(Regret. Loss. Pain. Sorrow. Anger. So dangerous, the what-might-have-beens, whirling her away into a wilderness of the lives she never had the chance to live, and the things she never had the chance to try. She doesn't want to give up on this life, not yet, so she stays close to them, Veronica and Logan and Eli and even dumb old Donut, so alive, alive, alive. They carry her with them, the ones who loved her most, and these three. Surely there's a little of Lilly living in each of them because ... oh, the places they go.)
Veronica has crawled onto the bed between them, and Eli is asking her if she's sure, if she really wants to, but Logan is grinning, elated. (Why? She's missed something here. What?) If there's a little apprehension in those stormy-sea eyes, Veronica is still the one reaching for Eli and beckoning Logan closer with one challenging lift of her eyebrows. Then she's writhing between them, pierced above and below. (Shock, the thrill of non-existent breath, trapped in her chest. Sweet, chaste Veronica, so far gone, so Lilly.)
Her mouth is open wide, but there's no sound, no words for this, even if you're clever, clever Veronica who dreams Pope and breathes Whitman and worships Angelou. The feelings are washing across Veronica's face and that's all she needs to share it, that soul-shattering, bone-breaking bliss. After, she can curl in with them, tight in a tangle of bodies on the wide, white bed, slumbering until it's time to go. Those are the nights she likes best, the four of them, but Weevil's not here tonight, and Veronica and Logan are crying.
They collapse into each other and there's no room for her there, the grief uniting them against her, and she has no way of asking, or helping, or doing anything at all. She hangs on desperately, but when Veronica starts to pull her clothes on, Lilly dies all over again, cast back into the wide, empty wastes.
But she's not alone there.
"Hey, girl," she hears, and she turns her head to see him walking towards her. "Where the fuck are we?"
She covers her face for a moment, not wanting him to see her tears, then slips her hand into his. "Hey, Eli," she says. "I call it 'the place of endless waiting for Veronica'. Now with extra Latin style."
"Word," he says, looking about. "Funky dream. But it wouldn't be the first time I've thought of you, me and V."
Lilly smiles, and throws him a wink. "Yeah, some dream. Bit like the one I had yesterday. And the day before that."
He grins wide, and ambles off, and she knows it's going to hit him hard, and soon. But he's still Weevil, and she's still Lilly, so she has a few ideas about how to get him through that, and he won't be alone, not for a while anyway. It's a relief, she decides. Veronica has someone new to look out for her, and now she can fade, and not have to worry about those below.
She'll never forget - she would never - but it's time to go. Obviously they need her fabulous self somewhere else.
fin