Fic: Channeling (L/V, Weevil) R pacey7707
Title: Channeling
Author: Pacey7707
Rating: R
Word Count: 1547
Pairing: Logan/Veronica
Spoilers: S1 and S2 (some) This could be the night of the trial.
Disclaimer: Don't own them. Wish I did.
Summary: After the verdict. What could have happened.
Author's note: New to this. Be kind, but honest.
She watched as the sun began to set from the courtroom windows. No one knew she was here - she'd become very, very good at breaking and entering. Her smile was dark, and just a little dangerous, as she took another swig of champagne, toasting the brass emblem of lady justice carved onto the front of the judges' podium. The courtroom was empty now, the jury, reporters, cheering fans, the freed murderer, were nothing but a bad taste in the back of her throat . . .It was the weekend and the halls of justice were closed.
Snickering at the idea of justice being served, Veronica dragged the now warmed bottle, along the banister separating the jury box from the rest of the court. Sneering at the empty seats, Veronica took a deep drink, drawing the last dregs of the now warmed champagne from the bottle, and sniffled. Bowing her head she thunked it twice against the dark wood, and let a stray tear work it’s way down her face. Sighing deeply, she swivled around and walked determinedly towards the podium, with slow deliberate steps. She stopped directly in front of the judges’ bench, shivering, as the darkening rays of the sun played on the brass image. Hesitantly she traced the intricate detail, with unsteady fingers, tears streaming unnoticed down her face. Taking deep breathes she jerked away, staring aimlessly around the court room. . . the room was stifling, humid, and her empty stomach was jumping nervously. Veronica absently peeled at the label on the bottle, her eyes settled on the defendants chair, Aaron’s chair. “Bastard,” she whispered so low there was barely an echo, “Fucking murdering bastard!” and lifting the bottle she swung around and slammed it into the blindfolded face of the carving. And like all of Veronica’s dreams, the shards of ragged glass sprayed the air before falling silently, glittering obscenely at her feet.
*********
He found her in the jury room, hours later, laying on the jurors’ table, her messenger bag her pillow and bare feet propped on the back of a chair, one hand behind her head, the other resting on a fresh bottle of champagne. He didn’t make a noise, unsure of what to say, or how to approach her.
Logan shifted restlessly, hands fisted in his pockets. “Veronica . . .are you ok? Everyone’s looking for you.”
“So worried, they sent Neptunes most popular criminal element, instead of the law? Shocking!” Veronica tilted her head to the side, “Of course, if Lamb had found me first I’d be totally humiliated. So thanks.”
Logan walked slowly around the table, skirting overturned chairs, making his way to her, when he slipped and slammed his hip into the corner of the table . . .”Shit!”
“Oh yeah,” Veronica snickered, “I spilled a little . . .are you ok?” Logan rubbed his hip and sat gingerly in the chair forcing her feet to dangle over the side of the table. She fought the urge to smile.
“What the hell are you doing here, Veronica?” Pissed, Logan looked around the jury room, taking note of the dingy walls, and the unholy smell of sweaty bodies.
Veronica pushed herself up on her forearms and looked around the room, smiling at Logan leaning back in a rickety old chair.
Taking a sip of champagne, she says, “I’m channeling Lily,” She raises her hands dramatically, “drinking to the pursuit of happiness, justice, and . .and . . .shit.” Looking like she was about to cry, Veronica snagged the bottle off the table and took two giant sips.
“Worried about me, Logan? That’s a first.” Snorting, she pushes to the edge of the table, well aware at how nervous he was. Well she hurts, and she wants to make someone else hurt too. Smiling broadly, unaware at how much she resembled Lily in the moonlight, she bounces into Logan lap, pushing higher so she rested squarely in his lap. She remembers this, misses this - the flex of his muscles, the heat radiating from his skin, the way his hands felt, gripping her tighter and pulling her closer. . . She’d seen Lily settle in the same spot so many times before, rubbing her body boldly along his own . . .she couldn’t help but wonder how many times he’d thought of Lily while holding her. Seems she was never enough for dear Logan. Closing her eyes, she replicated Lily’s movements, never tender, always sensual, generating so much heat . . .and he was tense, aware of her every movement, trying desperately to stay in control, to remain unaffected, but she was going to break him - it would be so EASY. . .
Smiling, she whispered, “Drink with me. . .” He shook his head, “No. Veronica . . .” he groaned.
“No?” surprised she leaned back. “You’re saying . . “ angling back her she reached back and snagged the bottle and took a huge sip, before slamming it back on the table. Arching over him, they nuzzled noses before she slanted her lips over his, pouring champagne into him, and ravaging him with her mouth. The champagne traced a cool path down his throat, but her mouth was fiery hot, offering him a taste of both heaven and hell. They dueled with their mouths, licking, nipping, bruising one another. Logan gave in, weaving her blonde tresses through his hands, pulled her closer, while his other hand slid down her back and under her skirt, kneading her. Panting, they broke apart. “I’m not a saint, Ronnie.”
“Oh Logan," she smiled softly, "that's what I'm counting on.” Her hands slid around to rest at the back of his neck, as she leaned forward to whisper in his ear. "Did you know," Veronica nipped his ear, "that I saw you and Lily . . .you know . . ."
Logan struggled but managed to utter a terse no.
"She'd drive me crazy, telling me things, hinting, until," she took a deep breath and stared into his eyes. " . . .until she pushed me into her closet one night and told me she'd arranged a tutorial for my own good. To help me. I know she thought she was helping me. I didn't mean to, but . . I couldn't NOT look."
No longer feeling vindictive, Veronica lowered her gaze and dropped her hands to her lap in embarassment.
"What did you see?" Logan's voice was hushed, his body still against hers.
Veronica took a couple of deep breaths before meeting his gaze unflinchingly. With a deft twist of her wrists, she unbuttoned his jeans. Before she could pull his zipper down, he grabbed her hand.
"Veronica." he growled her name warningly.
"I'll show you." Veronica slid off his lap and kneeled between his legs.
"You don't have too." he gripped the arms of the chair.
"Shut up, Logan."
He shifted slightly in the chair as she drew out his erection, and almost swallowed his tongue when her mouth closed over the head of his engorged penis. Hesitantly, he slid his fingers through Veronica's hair. Before he could wrap his brain around the image of Veronica going down on him, her tongue robbed him of all thought. Gribbing him with one had, she moved slowly up the length of his cock, and then down again, rolling his balls with her other hand.
She resisted the increasing pressure of his hands, licking, sucking, and blowing on the tip of the swollen head, working until the tip pushed against the back of her throat.
"Fuck." Logan's grip had loosened, but he watched, the sight of his cock sliding in and out of her mouth, enflaming his senses.
Nothing could ruin this moment.
Not even the sight of Eli Navarro watching silently from the shadowed doorway.
His brain warred with his body, the desire to finish almost outweighing the obligation to warn her of Eli's presence.
Logan all but growled a warning, "Veronica . . ." he attempted to pull her off of him.
But Veronica wouldn't, or couldn't stop. She easily ignored his half-hearted attempts at stopping her, and only increased her rhythm, until she did something Lily Kane never did . . .with only seconds to spare, she swallowed the head of his pulsating cock and hummed with pleasure, as his seed slid down the back of her throat.
Even as Veronica lifted her head, Eli shifted out of sight. Logan was still struggling for air, for words, for anything to stop her, but nothing came to him. And Veronica did what she did best, grabbing her bag, and without a word, pulled herself off the floor and was out the door. Only when he heard the sound of the LeBaron's engine turn over, did he bother tucking himself back in his jeans.
"Did you get enough?" he knew Eli was still there.
Eli said nothing, just moved into the room, past Logan to the windows, to watch the LeBaron's tail lights fade from view.
"The question is," smothering a smile behind his hand as glanced over to Logan, "Did you?"
"Fuck." Logan knew he wasn't nearly finished with Veronica Mars.
"Yeah. You poor bastard." Eli left the room laughing, leaving a very frustrated Logan pounding his head against the window.
Author: Pacey7707
Rating: R
Word Count: 1547
Pairing: Logan/Veronica
Spoilers: S1 and S2 (some) This could be the night of the trial.
Disclaimer: Don't own them. Wish I did.
Summary: After the verdict. What could have happened.
Author's note: New to this. Be kind, but honest.
She watched as the sun began to set from the courtroom windows. No one knew she was here - she'd become very, very good at breaking and entering. Her smile was dark, and just a little dangerous, as she took another swig of champagne, toasting the brass emblem of lady justice carved onto the front of the judges' podium. The courtroom was empty now, the jury, reporters, cheering fans, the freed murderer, were nothing but a bad taste in the back of her throat . . .It was the weekend and the halls of justice were closed.
Snickering at the idea of justice being served, Veronica dragged the now warmed bottle, along the banister separating the jury box from the rest of the court. Sneering at the empty seats, Veronica took a deep drink, drawing the last dregs of the now warmed champagne from the bottle, and sniffled. Bowing her head she thunked it twice against the dark wood, and let a stray tear work it’s way down her face. Sighing deeply, she swivled around and walked determinedly towards the podium, with slow deliberate steps. She stopped directly in front of the judges’ bench, shivering, as the darkening rays of the sun played on the brass image. Hesitantly she traced the intricate detail, with unsteady fingers, tears streaming unnoticed down her face. Taking deep breathes she jerked away, staring aimlessly around the court room. . . the room was stifling, humid, and her empty stomach was jumping nervously. Veronica absently peeled at the label on the bottle, her eyes settled on the defendants chair, Aaron’s chair. “Bastard,” she whispered so low there was barely an echo, “Fucking murdering bastard!” and lifting the bottle she swung around and slammed it into the blindfolded face of the carving. And like all of Veronica’s dreams, the shards of ragged glass sprayed the air before falling silently, glittering obscenely at her feet.
*********
He found her in the jury room, hours later, laying on the jurors’ table, her messenger bag her pillow and bare feet propped on the back of a chair, one hand behind her head, the other resting on a fresh bottle of champagne. He didn’t make a noise, unsure of what to say, or how to approach her.
Logan shifted restlessly, hands fisted in his pockets. “Veronica . . .are you ok? Everyone’s looking for you.”
“So worried, they sent Neptunes most popular criminal element, instead of the law? Shocking!” Veronica tilted her head to the side, “Of course, if Lamb had found me first I’d be totally humiliated. So thanks.”
Logan walked slowly around the table, skirting overturned chairs, making his way to her, when he slipped and slammed his hip into the corner of the table . . .”Shit!”
“Oh yeah,” Veronica snickered, “I spilled a little . . .are you ok?” Logan rubbed his hip and sat gingerly in the chair forcing her feet to dangle over the side of the table. She fought the urge to smile.
“What the hell are you doing here, Veronica?” Pissed, Logan looked around the jury room, taking note of the dingy walls, and the unholy smell of sweaty bodies.
Veronica pushed herself up on her forearms and looked around the room, smiling at Logan leaning back in a rickety old chair.
Taking a sip of champagne, she says, “I’m channeling Lily,” She raises her hands dramatically, “drinking to the pursuit of happiness, justice, and . .and . . .shit.” Looking like she was about to cry, Veronica snagged the bottle off the table and took two giant sips.
“Worried about me, Logan? That’s a first.” Snorting, she pushes to the edge of the table, well aware at how nervous he was. Well she hurts, and she wants to make someone else hurt too. Smiling broadly, unaware at how much she resembled Lily in the moonlight, she bounces into Logan lap, pushing higher so she rested squarely in his lap. She remembers this, misses this - the flex of his muscles, the heat radiating from his skin, the way his hands felt, gripping her tighter and pulling her closer. . . She’d seen Lily settle in the same spot so many times before, rubbing her body boldly along his own . . .she couldn’t help but wonder how many times he’d thought of Lily while holding her. Seems she was never enough for dear Logan. Closing her eyes, she replicated Lily’s movements, never tender, always sensual, generating so much heat . . .and he was tense, aware of her every movement, trying desperately to stay in control, to remain unaffected, but she was going to break him - it would be so EASY. . .
Smiling, she whispered, “Drink with me. . .” He shook his head, “No. Veronica . . .” he groaned.
“No?” surprised she leaned back. “You’re saying . . “ angling back her she reached back and snagged the bottle and took a huge sip, before slamming it back on the table. Arching over him, they nuzzled noses before she slanted her lips over his, pouring champagne into him, and ravaging him with her mouth. The champagne traced a cool path down his throat, but her mouth was fiery hot, offering him a taste of both heaven and hell. They dueled with their mouths, licking, nipping, bruising one another. Logan gave in, weaving her blonde tresses through his hands, pulled her closer, while his other hand slid down her back and under her skirt, kneading her. Panting, they broke apart. “I’m not a saint, Ronnie.”
“Oh Logan," she smiled softly, "that's what I'm counting on.” Her hands slid around to rest at the back of his neck, as she leaned forward to whisper in his ear. "Did you know," Veronica nipped his ear, "that I saw you and Lily . . .you know . . ."
Logan struggled but managed to utter a terse no.
"She'd drive me crazy, telling me things, hinting, until," she took a deep breath and stared into his eyes. " . . .until she pushed me into her closet one night and told me she'd arranged a tutorial for my own good. To help me. I know she thought she was helping me. I didn't mean to, but . . I couldn't NOT look."
No longer feeling vindictive, Veronica lowered her gaze and dropped her hands to her lap in embarassment.
"What did you see?" Logan's voice was hushed, his body still against hers.
Veronica took a couple of deep breaths before meeting his gaze unflinchingly. With a deft twist of her wrists, she unbuttoned his jeans. Before she could pull his zipper down, he grabbed her hand.
"Veronica." he growled her name warningly.
"I'll show you." Veronica slid off his lap and kneeled between his legs.
"You don't have too." he gripped the arms of the chair.
"Shut up, Logan."
He shifted slightly in the chair as she drew out his erection, and almost swallowed his tongue when her mouth closed over the head of his engorged penis. Hesitantly, he slid his fingers through Veronica's hair. Before he could wrap his brain around the image of Veronica going down on him, her tongue robbed him of all thought. Gribbing him with one had, she moved slowly up the length of his cock, and then down again, rolling his balls with her other hand.
She resisted the increasing pressure of his hands, licking, sucking, and blowing on the tip of the swollen head, working until the tip pushed against the back of her throat.
"Fuck." Logan's grip had loosened, but he watched, the sight of his cock sliding in and out of her mouth, enflaming his senses.
Nothing could ruin this moment.
Not even the sight of Eli Navarro watching silently from the shadowed doorway.
His brain warred with his body, the desire to finish almost outweighing the obligation to warn her of Eli's presence.
Logan all but growled a warning, "Veronica . . ." he attempted to pull her off of him.
But Veronica wouldn't, or couldn't stop. She easily ignored his half-hearted attempts at stopping her, and only increased her rhythm, until she did something Lily Kane never did . . .with only seconds to spare, she swallowed the head of his pulsating cock and hummed with pleasure, as his seed slid down the back of her throat.
Even as Veronica lifted her head, Eli shifted out of sight. Logan was still struggling for air, for words, for anything to stop her, but nothing came to him. And Veronica did what she did best, grabbing her bag, and without a word, pulled herself off the floor and was out the door. Only when he heard the sound of the LeBaron's engine turn over, did he bother tucking himself back in his jeans.
"Did you get enough?" he knew Eli was still there.
Eli said nothing, just moved into the room, past Logan to the windows, to watch the LeBaron's tail lights fade from view.
"The question is," smothering a smile behind his hand as glanced over to Logan, "Did you?"
"Fuck." Logan knew he wasn't nearly finished with Veronica Mars.
"Yeah. You poor bastard." Eli left the room laughing, leaving a very frustrated Logan pounding his head against the window.