All I Want For Christmas (more) --fangirlgonewild
Title: All I Want For Christmas
Author:
fangirlgonewild
Word Count: 8, 449
Rating: NC-17 for language and sex
Characters/Pairings: L/V, D/V (just a hint, I swear!)
Summary: Written for the loveathons High Roller Challenge, spoilers up to 3.09. Veronica and Logan spend a little time together at Christmas each year (and poker is always inexplicably involved...odd)
To
starxd_sparrow and
rowanceleste --betas extraordinaire! I worship your speedy awesome crazy grammar prowess!
continued here because livejournal hates me
to give you a reference, because the split makes it kinda confusing: this is part three (Veronica POV, season two) and part four (Logan POV, season three)
The music slammed into Veronica when she pulled open the heavy door of Duncan’s suite. Strobe lights pulsated in time with the techno beat as she wound her way through the mass of writhing bodies. Her gaze spanned the room; the 09ers had outdone themselves this Christmas. In one hotel suite they’d managed to jam together a bar, a DJ setup, and a dancefloor, plus Duncan’s tree.
Duncan’s suite, Duncan’s party, Duncan’s tree…but where is Duncan?
Veronica pushed through a throng of scantily clad girls congregating by the couch to the door to Duncan’s room. Pushing at the door, she found it unlocked, but the room was dark and deserted. It was blissfully quiet though, so she sat on the edge of the bed to catch her breath.
“Didn’t think you were coming to this x-mas bash. Don’t you avowedly hate half the crowd that came to party?”
Veronica whirled around to find Logan sitting by Duncan’s nightstand, his long legs curled against the wall. An empty card package lay beside him; it looked like he had been playing solitaire.
“Shouldn’t you be out there, hosting or something? Or in the very least hiding in your own room?”
“Dick commandeered my room for a game of strip poker about an hour ago.”
He stood, gathering the cards and stretching out across the bed. The volume from the party increased suddenly, and he winced.
Veronica watched him, not failing to appreciate the way his abs looked when he flipped over onto his back. He stared at the ceiling and she stared at him.
“Do you know where Duncan is?”
Wordlessly, he shook his head.
Veronica sighed, the reached into her bag and pulled out a small package.
“Will you make sure he gets this?”
“You aren’t staying?
“I only came to give him his present and leave. We, um, well, we’re…”
“Not on good terms? Isn’t Christmas the time for joy and happiness, or did Meg get in the way of that one? It’s always the angels-you think you know them, then they turn out to be devil-spawn underneath.”
It was probably meant to be harsh, but his tone wasn’t mocking and he still hadn’t looked at her.
“Yeah, well, there’s that.” She reached over him, putting the box next to Duncan’s alarm clock. Now quite close to Logan, she stayed sitting, keeping her eyes on his face.
Hooking her bag with her foot, she pulled it up close to her hands and reached in again.
“This one’s for you.”
He sat up, startled. Taking the package from her hands, he set it aside. Veronica tilted her head, watching him carefully.
“I’ll open it on the 25th, like a good boy.”
She laughed aloud, surprising herself. It had been a long time since she’d laughed, even longer since Logan had made her laugh.
“You do that.”
Standing to go, she gathered her bag and took two steps toward the door. Pausing, she turned back to look at him; he was sitting on the bed, toying with the deck of cards in his hands.
“Do you want someone to play with?”
She flushed, bracing herself for his biting sexual retort, but it didn’t come.
“Okay.”
Kicking off her shoes, Veronica twisted the lock on the door, unwilling to have Madison Sinclair barge in on the solitude looking for somewhere to lose her liquor. She sat back down on the edge of the bed, scooting forward until she faced Logan, who now sat cross-legged and leaned against the headboard.
“Poker?”
“For the sake of tradition?”
He looked at her briefly, and then glanced away.
“Sure, if you want to call it that. Since I am once again the host, I’ll deal.”
His fingers flitted over the cards, shuffling them neatly. Veronica nearly moaned as the summer memories of what those talented fingers could do flooded into her mind.
Focus, Veronica, focus. It’s just a card game with the boy you never stopped lov-
“You’re going down, Mars.”
“In your dreams, Echolls.”
An hour later, Logan threw his cards down and threw his hands up, gesturing defeat.
“I,” he proclaimed, waving his hands, “am famished. Let us scour the party for provisions before continuing on in this insane fashion.”
“I hardly think me winning is new or unusual-or insane, for that matter.”
Logan launched himself off the bed, landing on his feet easily. He held out a hand to her, and she took it without thinking. His palms were warm; out of habit, she interlaced her fingers with his. Logan dropped her hand when he reached the door of the suite, Veronica could feel herself blushing.
Outside their calm haven, the party still raged on. Logan gathered sodas from the fridge, and he took an unopened bottle of rum from a cabinet he promptly locked, much to the dismay of the nearby drunks still looking for one more. Veronica, meanwhile, seized two bags of pretzels and found that there was still cake available that didn’t look too bad at all.
Retreating back into the room, she marveled at their feast.
“How on earth is there still so much food still out there? This party’s been going for almost three hours now!”
“Didn’t you see the room service cart in the corner, Miss Sherlock? Duncan paid the staff to keep the food coming-but only food and sodas. He figured people would leave once the alcohol ran too low. From the looks of it, he’s run up quite a tab. I told him this party was a shitty idea.”
“Can you actually ask them to do that?”
“No, but money talks-you know that.”
Veronica wrinkled her nose, thinking of the money being wasted in the next room. Duncan never could grasp the idea of wanting without having, and it was cute in a naive sort of way-he was like a child no one could deny anything.
“Well, we reap the reward. What kind of drink for you, m’lady?”
“Just soda, thank you.” Veronica tore open one of the bags of pretzels and happily watched as Logan mixed himself a drink-lighter on the rum than normal, she noted-and picked at a piece of cake. She laughed as he proceeded to get green frosting all over his face.
“What’s the grin for?”
“Just-well, you’ve got-“ Veronica wiped at her own chin.
“Here?” He mimicked her, only making it worse by smearing the icing across his chin.
“No,”
“Here?” He missed altogether.
“No, just let me do it.”
Veronica grabbed a napkin and crawled toward Logan, kneeling over him as she removed the traces of icing from his face. He eyes fluttered closed and he exhaled in a sigh. He really was so pretty, so perfect; Veronica could only wonder what might between them as she lowered her lips to his.
Framing his face with her hands, she settled herself so that she straddled his lap. His hands came up to steady her, automatically resting at her hips.
“Veronica, what are you doing?” he whispered softly against her ear, making her purr.
“Giving you an early Christmas present.”
She kissed him quickly, fiercely, running her hands down his torso, and he stopped questioning her altogether.
Flipping her onto the bed, Logan ran his hands through her hair. He kissed her neck and Veronica could feel vibrations run straight to the pit of her stomach. His hands were under her shirt-this was moving much faster than any make-out session they’d had over the summer.
She sat up, pulling his shirt off, then she put her hands up like a child, letting him tug the garment over her head. His eyes drank in her pale skin, his hands moved along her ribcage until he reached her bra. She watched his face as he reached around to unhook the catch in the back, his eyes intense and dark and locked with hers.
She inhaled sharply as he released her breasts to the cold air, her nipples stiffening and turning dark. Logan leaned her back onto the pillows, trailing kisses down her collarbone until he reached the side of her right breast. Licking the nipple gently, he teased the other breast with his hand, fingers trailing along the soft underside. He stroked and petted her in time with his tongue until Veronica mewled like a kitten.
When he planted his thigh firmly between her legs, Veronica thrust her hips into him. She rubbed against him, desperately for the friction she wanted. Veronica could barely think when he stopped completely, and she tossed her head in frustration.
“Yes, Veronica?” he teased.
“Don’t stop, Logan, please don’t stop.”
He chuckled against her skin, nimble fingers working the button of her jeans until he could pull her zipper down. He moved lower, peeling the fabric from her legs and running his finger over the cotton of her underwear. She moaned, grateful for the pounding music of the party for the first time all evening.
“You’re so wet, Veronica, did you know that? Have I been working for you for a while now and not known it?”
She nodded, jerking against his fingers as he removed her underwear with his free hand. He moved back up to her mouth, kissing her deeply as he slipped a finger inside of her. Meeting with no resistance, he added another finger and twisted them inside of her.
She stiffened, back bowing as he watched her face; she could feel him looking at her even if she couldn’t see straight. He massaged her clit with his thumb while stroking her with the two fingers he kept inside. Crooking one finger suddenly and gauging her reaction, he moved lower and pressed kisses along her abdomen.
He spread her thighs wider, and opened her fold with his fingers, blowing warm air gently across her clit. Her hands fisted in the covers, and he moved closer, tonguing at her opening before thrusting inside, rotating his tongue as he returned his thumb to its massage. She gasped, crying out and stiffening and then she was coming, her sweetness flowing across his tongue. Logan moved to watch her face, replacing his tongue with his hand as he helped her ride out her orgasm.
Veronica opened her eyes as Logan wiped his mouth, pressing a kiss to her temple. She reached for the bulge of his jeans, but he shook his head and lay down next to her, one arm across her chest. Overcome by thoughts of Logan, and Duncan, and Duncan’s suite and the party that raged on, Veronica determined she was too tired to budge, and as she closed her eyes she felt herself relax and slip into sleep.
When Veronica opened her eyes again, she was alone and dressed. The cards and food they’d had in the suite had disappeared and she was tucked under the covers. Disoriented, she stood and moved to the door in a haze. Duncan and Logan moved around the main room in tandem, picking up bottles and trash. The maids would clean the suite, but the alcohol had to be gone before then.
Duncan looked up and spotted Veronica.
“Hey, sweetie, did you sleep well? Sorry I wasn’t here, I just…had some stuff to do. Logan said you didn’t party on with the gang.”
Veronica looked at him, safe, sweet Duncan, and then looked over to where Logan was sorting bottles from garbage.
“Yeah, we played some poker to avoid the uh-party crowd.”
“Really? That’s cool, babe.”
Duncan walked around the couch, placing a kiss against Veronica’s hair when he reached her. Veronica never took her eyes off Logan, who looked up to see Duncan smiling at Veronica.
Logan tossed her a light smile, and his eyes told her he’d never tell and so much more all at once.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The vodka burned a path down his throat, untainted by juices or mixers; there was no soda to take the edge off. Logan held the bottle up, looking at the liquid world through the glass. A blurry, wobbling tree sparkled in the corner of his room, and as he lowered the bottle he wondered again why the staff of the Grand continued to try and lift his spirits with anything other than-well, spirits.
Grinning ruefully, Logan stood. Deciding to get drunk and sleep his way through the morbid holiday season was easy; putting this brilliant plan in action had turned out to be shocking difficult.
Fuck, I just wanted this year to be different.
Logan slid his phone open, debating on whether or not to call Dick. The alcohol would certainly disappear, he knew, but this feeling of melancholy would linger, teasing him with flickers of sadness and despair. Christmas past, indeed.
The circled day on his calendar brought him back to reality, pulling him from thoughts of pears, angry fathers, mothers reeking of wine and blank tapes arranged cautiously in a line. Veronica had circled the 24th close to a month ago, when he’d told her he’d found her the perfect Christmas present. Begging him to spill his secret, she’d danced around the room, counting days and making lists of the horrible things she’d do to torture him if he didn’t tell. She circled Christmas Eve as their day to exchange presents, leaving the real Christmas morning for time with her father.
The necklace lay in a tiny box, already wrapped by his own unsteady hands, in the corner of his dresser drawer. Frosted glass formed the petals of a carefully crafted lily, the top petal looped to hang on a chain of white gold-it would have looked beautiful on her. Maybe he’d leave it on her porch tomorrow, while she celebrated the season with her father and Wallace.
The door behind him shut gently with a light snick.
He didn’t turn, choosing to tip his head back and rub away the tension in his neck. She’d come to leave her key, that’s all.
“Logan?”
“Just leave it and go, Veronica. I’m not feeling all holly and jolly right now.”
She didn’t respond to the barb, and when he heard the door open and close again he turned, ready to snap the plastic key card and throw the shards over his balcony rail. Instead, Logan found himself looking at a red box tied with silver ribbon. She’d brought him a gift.
Dashing into the hall, he saw the elevator doors shut and heard the tell-tale hum of the machinery taking the girl he couldn’t stop loving away from him once again. Adrenaline coursing through him, Logan spun on his heel and threw open the door leading to the stairs.
Twelve flights later, he knew why he’d never taken the stairs before.
He tumbled out into the lobby and ran to the door, crossing the parking lot in long strides to a familiar silver Saturn. Pausing only for a moment, he steeled himself for her wrath and tapped on the window.
Nothing happened. He tapped again before peering closer and seeing that she wasn’t there. He couldn’t have run faster than the elevator, could he?
Logan surveyed the half-empty lot in front of the Grand, noting that most of the regular vehicles were gone, people opting to party with family and friends on Christmas Eve rather than staying in and drowning their sorrows in liquor.
A familiar figure appeared at the main doors of the Grand, illuminated by the festive lights of the lobby behind her. She was dabbing at her eyes with a napkin emblazoned with the hotel’s crest-she’d stopped in the bar adjacent to the lobby and he’d dashed right past her.
Logan froze, unsure of what to do, as he always was when it came to Veronica Mars. Did he let her go, tell her to go even? Or should he take the calculated risk that was inviting her to stay? He doubted she’d even accept an invitation back upstairs-he’d just bellowed at her to leave, after all.
She’d spotted him from across the rows of parking spaces and stood shock-still, pondering her choices.
“You got here fast.” She choked out, voiced laced with tears he knew she’d tried desperately to hide.
“Yeah, well, the stairs aren’t so bad…maybe I’ll take them more often.”
“The stairs?” Her gaze swept back to the hotel, “You live on the top floor, Logan.”
“My legs are confirming that fact as we speak.”
She shifted her weight, clearly uncomfortable and confused.
Logan cleared his throat, coming to a decision.
“So, uh-would you like to collect your present?”
“What?”
“Your present-I still have it upstairs. Today’s the 24th, remember? Our Christmas,” he reminded her softly, praying she hadn’t totally forgotten him, hadn’t totally cut him out of her life and her heart.
She’s here isn’t she? This has to mean something.
Veronica bit her lip, and nodded. She turned and made her way back to the hotel, tossing the napkin in the trashcan by the door.
Logan thought he would die inside the elevator it was so quiet. They stood on opposite sides, each focused directly ahead, both jumping slightly as the doors slid open to reveal Logan’s hall.
His door stood open-he hadn’t shut it when he dashed out after her. Veronica’s brow furrowed when she walked in the door, and she glanced quizzically at him.
“When did you get a tree?”
“The staff put it up. It isn’t really my sort of thing, you know?”
“Too fancy, you mean?”
“I guess,” He’d meant having a tree at all, but if there was one thing he didn’t want, it was Veronica’s pity. Wisely, he chose to shut his mouth and leave it at that.
She settled herself on the couch, shucking her shoes and folding her legs up under a throw blanket. Logan looked at her for a long moment, then went to his room and found his gift to her.
“Where’s your dad tonight? I figured you’d be with him, celebrating and all.”
“He’s of chasing some bail jumper for Lamb. He didn’t really need the job, but I told him to take it. We can always use the money for Hearst or something. Being prepared, I suppose.”
Logan sat on the opposite end of the couch, maintaining a cautious distance. He put her present of the table, sliding it to her with a tiny shove.
“Do I open it now, or wait until morning?”
“Whatever you want, Veronica.”
“Okay, we’ll open them at the same time.”
Obediently, he lifted his package from the table where he’d left it. At Veronica’s nod he pulled of the bow, tearing off the paper as he did so. It was only when he set the monogrammed chip holder on the table that he realized she hadn’t touched her own gift.
“Hey!” He began to protest, but she silenced him with a look.
“I wanted to see you open it, okay?” She smiled nervously, “Did I choose alright? I guessed that the boy who has everything could use something personalized and swanky.”
“Swanky?”
“You know what I mean.”
“It’s perfect. Open yours.”
Logan noted that Veronica did not tear or scratch at her paper, but rather she folded it back primly. The tiny black velvet box made her frown at him, but the necklace inside made her lips twitch into a tiny smile.
“Is it glass?”
He exhaled the breath he hadn’t know he was holding.
“Yeah.”
“Help me put it on?”
She handed him the box and pulled her hair off her neck, twisting so that he could see where she’d been shaved. A tiny silver clip held the newly-grown blond locks, and when Logan hooked the clasp of the necklace together, he couldn’t help but run his thumb over the clip as well. He swallowed thickly, remembering his fear from that night, the night he thought he’d lost her. Then she’d put herself in danger again…
Veronica stood, slipping into her shoes and gathering the paper. He didn’t speak. At the door, she paused, then said clearly, “Merry Christmas, Logan.”
“Merry Christmas, Veronica.”
She started out the door, then stopped again.
“Logan?”
He lifted his head, staring mutely at the beautiful girl he didn’t think he could ever forget. The girl who stayed behind one Christmas, the girl who kissed him softly outside a seedy motel room, the girl who accused him of evil, the girl who refused to trust him completely and the girl who ignored his calls.
“Mmm?”
“I love you.”
And, just like that, she was gone.
It was like a thunderstorm erupted in his mind then ceased immediately, leaving him feeling clean and whole. He followed her out of the suite for the second time that night, catching her before she could push the button for the elevator.
Her hands went around his neck, clinging to him as he claimed her mouth again and again. Veronica’s hair smelled like cinnamon and he wondered if this was the Christmas smell she’d always talked about.
Taking her hands in his own, he pulled her fingers off his neck and dragged her into the suite, shutting the door and returning to her with a kiss. Logan ran his hands down her body, watching with delight as she tipped her head back, arching against him. He lowered his head to suckle at her neck, kissing a trail up to the spot on her ear he’d found so many Christmases ago.
She gasped, and whimpered when he refused to stop his assault on her body. Wrapping his arms around her, he lifted her gently and carried her to his bed.
Veronica pulled him on top her, nimbly flicking open the button on his shirt as she did so. He pulled at her sweater, getting it caught on her sole hairclip. She watched his face as he worked it free, running her fingers lightly over his chest.
Logan pulled her skirt off easily, smiling at the black silk bra and panties he’d bought her nearly three months earlier. She’d sworn never to wear black underthings and she had laughed when he handed her the bag.
“Why Miss Mars, I’m scandalized,” he quipped.
She flicked open the button of his jeans and as she pulled the zipper down slowly she locked eyes with him and murmured, “Yeah well, you should be.”
Before he could respond, she pulled his pants and boxers off completely. Logan reached for her, but Veronica smiled a vixen’s smile and pushed him back against the pillows.
Logan’s eyes rolled back into his head as he felt gentle fingertips run the length of his cock. It had been weeks since he’d even seen her for more than a moment’s time, and now this was happening. He knew he wasn’t going to last long, and he couldn’t stop his hips from jerking wildly. Her hand sped up its ministrations, and he moaned when he felt her lips against his skin.
Opening his eyes, he looked down to see Veronica’s blonde head bobbing over him as her wine-colored lips encircled his length. She steadied herself with one hand, and he watched as the other moved underneath her chin to cup him, her fingers rolling his balls carefully.
“Oh, God, Veronica!”
He came, hard in her mouth. Pushing her off him, he watched in fascination at her smirk as she swallowed.
“Scandalized?” She whispered, moving to straddle him with a kiss.
“Completely.”
Leaning forward, she kissed him again, and he responded in kind, tipping her backwards until it was she who lay against the covers. The sight of her, flushed and gorgeous was more than enough to send shivers straight down Logan’s body-and straight to his cock, which stiffened instantly. Reaching to the bedside table, he opened a drawer and pulled out a condom. Veronica tugged it from his grip and tore open the package, sliding the latex over him easily.
Veronica’s fingers traced unidentifiable patterns across his chest, and her back arched as he slid inside her. She was so tiny, so tight-she felt unbelievable around him. Slowly, he pushed completely inside her, then began pulling back out. Just as he was about to leave her completely, Logan heard her whimper.
She clutched at him as he moved back inside, moving faster and harder as she rocked upwards, slamming into him with the same force. Changing his angle, Logan moved deeper inside of her, she was so close; he could feel her vibrating under him, her body begging for release. Suddenly Veronica twisted beneath him, her body convulsing around him. It was enough and too much and he screamed out her name as she cried out his own.
Spent, exhausted, and happy, Logan curled around Veronica and fell asleep.
The rays of the sun struck his face at an odd angle, bent through the glass and twisted into tiny slivers that danced across the bedcovers. His arm tingled, feeling as if he had slept on pins and needles. Opening his eyes, he saw that Veronica’s head rested in the crook of his elbow.
As he shifted on the bed, pulling on his boxers, she opened her eyes, blinking rapidly as she adjusted to the morning light.
“G’morning,” she grumbled, sitting up and pulling the sheets around her.
“Hello there,”
“It’s Christmas morning.”
“So it is.”
“I wonder if Santa left me anything good.”
Unconsciously, she toyed with the necklace still clasped around her neck. Logan watched her fingers from his place on the edge of the bed.
“Logan?”
“Veronica?”
“Does this mean that you forgive me for being, well, a bitch to you?”
“You weren’t-“
Tears filled her eyes as she protested vehemently.
“I was though. I was distant and cold and ignored you…and I was wrong.”
They both looked at each other for a long moment.
“I was wrong.” She repeated softly.
“Are you going to stop putting yourself in unnecessary danger?”
“Unnecessary?”
Logan scooted closer to her on the bed.
“As in, will you please give me or Wallace-or even Piz--a call when you’re going to catch the bad guy?”
“Yes.”
He kissed her forehead, and she tilted her face up to meet his lips with hers.
“Then let’s go see what Santa thought of your behavior this year.”
Running her hands down his arms, she stopped him from getting up.
“Let’s just sit here for a while.”
“You don’t want to see your presents?”
She tilted her head, smiling at him beatifically.
“I think I got what I wished for right here.”
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
finito!
check it out dudes, it's for the loveathons:
Author:
fangirlgonewild
Word Count: 8, 449
Rating: NC-17 for language and sex
Characters/Pairings: L/V, D/V (just a hint, I swear!)
Summary: Written for the loveathons High Roller Challenge, spoilers up to 3.09. Veronica and Logan spend a little time together at Christmas each year (and poker is always inexplicably involved...odd)
To
starxd_sparrow and
rowanceleste --betas extraordinaire! I worship your speedy awesome crazy grammar prowess!
continued here because livejournal hates me
to give you a reference, because the split makes it kinda confusing: this is part three (Veronica POV, season two) and part four (Logan POV, season three)
The music slammed into Veronica when she pulled open the heavy door of Duncan’s suite. Strobe lights pulsated in time with the techno beat as she wound her way through the mass of writhing bodies. Her gaze spanned the room; the 09ers had outdone themselves this Christmas. In one hotel suite they’d managed to jam together a bar, a DJ setup, and a dancefloor, plus Duncan’s tree.
Duncan’s suite, Duncan’s party, Duncan’s tree…but where is Duncan?
Veronica pushed through a throng of scantily clad girls congregating by the couch to the door to Duncan’s room. Pushing at the door, she found it unlocked, but the room was dark and deserted. It was blissfully quiet though, so she sat on the edge of the bed to catch her breath.
“Didn’t think you were coming to this x-mas bash. Don’t you avowedly hate half the crowd that came to party?”
Veronica whirled around to find Logan sitting by Duncan’s nightstand, his long legs curled against the wall. An empty card package lay beside him; it looked like he had been playing solitaire.
“Shouldn’t you be out there, hosting or something? Or in the very least hiding in your own room?”
“Dick commandeered my room for a game of strip poker about an hour ago.”
He stood, gathering the cards and stretching out across the bed. The volume from the party increased suddenly, and he winced.
Veronica watched him, not failing to appreciate the way his abs looked when he flipped over onto his back. He stared at the ceiling and she stared at him.
“Do you know where Duncan is?”
Wordlessly, he shook his head.
Veronica sighed, the reached into her bag and pulled out a small package.
“Will you make sure he gets this?”
“You aren’t staying?
“I only came to give him his present and leave. We, um, well, we’re…”
“Not on good terms? Isn’t Christmas the time for joy and happiness, or did Meg get in the way of that one? It’s always the angels-you think you know them, then they turn out to be devil-spawn underneath.”
It was probably meant to be harsh, but his tone wasn’t mocking and he still hadn’t looked at her.
“Yeah, well, there’s that.” She reached over him, putting the box next to Duncan’s alarm clock. Now quite close to Logan, she stayed sitting, keeping her eyes on his face.
Hooking her bag with her foot, she pulled it up close to her hands and reached in again.
“This one’s for you.”
He sat up, startled. Taking the package from her hands, he set it aside. Veronica tilted her head, watching him carefully.
“I’ll open it on the 25th, like a good boy.”
She laughed aloud, surprising herself. It had been a long time since she’d laughed, even longer since Logan had made her laugh.
“You do that.”
Standing to go, she gathered her bag and took two steps toward the door. Pausing, she turned back to look at him; he was sitting on the bed, toying with the deck of cards in his hands.
“Do you want someone to play with?”
She flushed, bracing herself for his biting sexual retort, but it didn’t come.
“Okay.”
Kicking off her shoes, Veronica twisted the lock on the door, unwilling to have Madison Sinclair barge in on the solitude looking for somewhere to lose her liquor. She sat back down on the edge of the bed, scooting forward until she faced Logan, who now sat cross-legged and leaned against the headboard.
“Poker?”
“For the sake of tradition?”
He looked at her briefly, and then glanced away.
“Sure, if you want to call it that. Since I am once again the host, I’ll deal.”
His fingers flitted over the cards, shuffling them neatly. Veronica nearly moaned as the summer memories of what those talented fingers could do flooded into her mind.
Focus, Veronica, focus. It’s just a card game with the boy you never stopped lov-
“You’re going down, Mars.”
“In your dreams, Echolls.”
An hour later, Logan threw his cards down and threw his hands up, gesturing defeat.
“I,” he proclaimed, waving his hands, “am famished. Let us scour the party for provisions before continuing on in this insane fashion.”
“I hardly think me winning is new or unusual-or insane, for that matter.”
Logan launched himself off the bed, landing on his feet easily. He held out a hand to her, and she took it without thinking. His palms were warm; out of habit, she interlaced her fingers with his. Logan dropped her hand when he reached the door of the suite, Veronica could feel herself blushing.
Outside their calm haven, the party still raged on. Logan gathered sodas from the fridge, and he took an unopened bottle of rum from a cabinet he promptly locked, much to the dismay of the nearby drunks still looking for one more. Veronica, meanwhile, seized two bags of pretzels and found that there was still cake available that didn’t look too bad at all.
Retreating back into the room, she marveled at their feast.
“How on earth is there still so much food still out there? This party’s been going for almost three hours now!”
“Didn’t you see the room service cart in the corner, Miss Sherlock? Duncan paid the staff to keep the food coming-but only food and sodas. He figured people would leave once the alcohol ran too low. From the looks of it, he’s run up quite a tab. I told him this party was a shitty idea.”
“Can you actually ask them to do that?”
“No, but money talks-you know that.”
Veronica wrinkled her nose, thinking of the money being wasted in the next room. Duncan never could grasp the idea of wanting without having, and it was cute in a naive sort of way-he was like a child no one could deny anything.
“Well, we reap the reward. What kind of drink for you, m’lady?”
“Just soda, thank you.” Veronica tore open one of the bags of pretzels and happily watched as Logan mixed himself a drink-lighter on the rum than normal, she noted-and picked at a piece of cake. She laughed as he proceeded to get green frosting all over his face.
“What’s the grin for?”
“Just-well, you’ve got-“ Veronica wiped at her own chin.
“Here?” He mimicked her, only making it worse by smearing the icing across his chin.
“No,”
“Here?” He missed altogether.
“No, just let me do it.”
Veronica grabbed a napkin and crawled toward Logan, kneeling over him as she removed the traces of icing from his face. He eyes fluttered closed and he exhaled in a sigh. He really was so pretty, so perfect; Veronica could only wonder what might between them as she lowered her lips to his.
Framing his face with her hands, she settled herself so that she straddled his lap. His hands came up to steady her, automatically resting at her hips.
“Veronica, what are you doing?” he whispered softly against her ear, making her purr.
“Giving you an early Christmas present.”
She kissed him quickly, fiercely, running her hands down his torso, and he stopped questioning her altogether.
Flipping her onto the bed, Logan ran his hands through her hair. He kissed her neck and Veronica could feel vibrations run straight to the pit of her stomach. His hands were under her shirt-this was moving much faster than any make-out session they’d had over the summer.
She sat up, pulling his shirt off, then she put her hands up like a child, letting him tug the garment over her head. His eyes drank in her pale skin, his hands moved along her ribcage until he reached her bra. She watched his face as he reached around to unhook the catch in the back, his eyes intense and dark and locked with hers.
She inhaled sharply as he released her breasts to the cold air, her nipples stiffening and turning dark. Logan leaned her back onto the pillows, trailing kisses down her collarbone until he reached the side of her right breast. Licking the nipple gently, he teased the other breast with his hand, fingers trailing along the soft underside. He stroked and petted her in time with his tongue until Veronica mewled like a kitten.
When he planted his thigh firmly between her legs, Veronica thrust her hips into him. She rubbed against him, desperately for the friction she wanted. Veronica could barely think when he stopped completely, and she tossed her head in frustration.
“Yes, Veronica?” he teased.
“Don’t stop, Logan, please don’t stop.”
He chuckled against her skin, nimble fingers working the button of her jeans until he could pull her zipper down. He moved lower, peeling the fabric from her legs and running his finger over the cotton of her underwear. She moaned, grateful for the pounding music of the party for the first time all evening.
“You’re so wet, Veronica, did you know that? Have I been working for you for a while now and not known it?”
She nodded, jerking against his fingers as he removed her underwear with his free hand. He moved back up to her mouth, kissing her deeply as he slipped a finger inside of her. Meeting with no resistance, he added another finger and twisted them inside of her.
She stiffened, back bowing as he watched her face; she could feel him looking at her even if she couldn’t see straight. He massaged her clit with his thumb while stroking her with the two fingers he kept inside. Crooking one finger suddenly and gauging her reaction, he moved lower and pressed kisses along her abdomen.
He spread her thighs wider, and opened her fold with his fingers, blowing warm air gently across her clit. Her hands fisted in the covers, and he moved closer, tonguing at her opening before thrusting inside, rotating his tongue as he returned his thumb to its massage. She gasped, crying out and stiffening and then she was coming, her sweetness flowing across his tongue. Logan moved to watch her face, replacing his tongue with his hand as he helped her ride out her orgasm.
Veronica opened her eyes as Logan wiped his mouth, pressing a kiss to her temple. She reached for the bulge of his jeans, but he shook his head and lay down next to her, one arm across her chest. Overcome by thoughts of Logan, and Duncan, and Duncan’s suite and the party that raged on, Veronica determined she was too tired to budge, and as she closed her eyes she felt herself relax and slip into sleep.
When Veronica opened her eyes again, she was alone and dressed. The cards and food they’d had in the suite had disappeared and she was tucked under the covers. Disoriented, she stood and moved to the door in a haze. Duncan and Logan moved around the main room in tandem, picking up bottles and trash. The maids would clean the suite, but the alcohol had to be gone before then.
Duncan looked up and spotted Veronica.
“Hey, sweetie, did you sleep well? Sorry I wasn’t here, I just…had some stuff to do. Logan said you didn’t party on with the gang.”
Veronica looked at him, safe, sweet Duncan, and then looked over to where Logan was sorting bottles from garbage.
“Yeah, we played some poker to avoid the uh-party crowd.”
“Really? That’s cool, babe.”
Duncan walked around the couch, placing a kiss against Veronica’s hair when he reached her. Veronica never took her eyes off Logan, who looked up to see Duncan smiling at Veronica.
Logan tossed her a light smile, and his eyes told her he’d never tell and so much more all at once.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The vodka burned a path down his throat, untainted by juices or mixers; there was no soda to take the edge off. Logan held the bottle up, looking at the liquid world through the glass. A blurry, wobbling tree sparkled in the corner of his room, and as he lowered the bottle he wondered again why the staff of the Grand continued to try and lift his spirits with anything other than-well, spirits.
Grinning ruefully, Logan stood. Deciding to get drunk and sleep his way through the morbid holiday season was easy; putting this brilliant plan in action had turned out to be shocking difficult.
Fuck, I just wanted this year to be different.
Logan slid his phone open, debating on whether or not to call Dick. The alcohol would certainly disappear, he knew, but this feeling of melancholy would linger, teasing him with flickers of sadness and despair. Christmas past, indeed.
The circled day on his calendar brought him back to reality, pulling him from thoughts of pears, angry fathers, mothers reeking of wine and blank tapes arranged cautiously in a line. Veronica had circled the 24th close to a month ago, when he’d told her he’d found her the perfect Christmas present. Begging him to spill his secret, she’d danced around the room, counting days and making lists of the horrible things she’d do to torture him if he didn’t tell. She circled Christmas Eve as their day to exchange presents, leaving the real Christmas morning for time with her father.
The necklace lay in a tiny box, already wrapped by his own unsteady hands, in the corner of his dresser drawer. Frosted glass formed the petals of a carefully crafted lily, the top petal looped to hang on a chain of white gold-it would have looked beautiful on her. Maybe he’d leave it on her porch tomorrow, while she celebrated the season with her father and Wallace.
The door behind him shut gently with a light snick.
He didn’t turn, choosing to tip his head back and rub away the tension in his neck. She’d come to leave her key, that’s all.
“Logan?”
“Just leave it and go, Veronica. I’m not feeling all holly and jolly right now.”
She didn’t respond to the barb, and when he heard the door open and close again he turned, ready to snap the plastic key card and throw the shards over his balcony rail. Instead, Logan found himself looking at a red box tied with silver ribbon. She’d brought him a gift.
Dashing into the hall, he saw the elevator doors shut and heard the tell-tale hum of the machinery taking the girl he couldn’t stop loving away from him once again. Adrenaline coursing through him, Logan spun on his heel and threw open the door leading to the stairs.
Twelve flights later, he knew why he’d never taken the stairs before.
He tumbled out into the lobby and ran to the door, crossing the parking lot in long strides to a familiar silver Saturn. Pausing only for a moment, he steeled himself for her wrath and tapped on the window.
Nothing happened. He tapped again before peering closer and seeing that she wasn’t there. He couldn’t have run faster than the elevator, could he?
Logan surveyed the half-empty lot in front of the Grand, noting that most of the regular vehicles were gone, people opting to party with family and friends on Christmas Eve rather than staying in and drowning their sorrows in liquor.
A familiar figure appeared at the main doors of the Grand, illuminated by the festive lights of the lobby behind her. She was dabbing at her eyes with a napkin emblazoned with the hotel’s crest-she’d stopped in the bar adjacent to the lobby and he’d dashed right past her.
Logan froze, unsure of what to do, as he always was when it came to Veronica Mars. Did he let her go, tell her to go even? Or should he take the calculated risk that was inviting her to stay? He doubted she’d even accept an invitation back upstairs-he’d just bellowed at her to leave, after all.
She’d spotted him from across the rows of parking spaces and stood shock-still, pondering her choices.
“You got here fast.” She choked out, voiced laced with tears he knew she’d tried desperately to hide.
“Yeah, well, the stairs aren’t so bad…maybe I’ll take them more often.”
“The stairs?” Her gaze swept back to the hotel, “You live on the top floor, Logan.”
“My legs are confirming that fact as we speak.”
She shifted her weight, clearly uncomfortable and confused.
Logan cleared his throat, coming to a decision.
“So, uh-would you like to collect your present?”
“What?”
“Your present-I still have it upstairs. Today’s the 24th, remember? Our Christmas,” he reminded her softly, praying she hadn’t totally forgotten him, hadn’t totally cut him out of her life and her heart.
She’s here isn’t she? This has to mean something.
Veronica bit her lip, and nodded. She turned and made her way back to the hotel, tossing the napkin in the trashcan by the door.
Logan thought he would die inside the elevator it was so quiet. They stood on opposite sides, each focused directly ahead, both jumping slightly as the doors slid open to reveal Logan’s hall.
His door stood open-he hadn’t shut it when he dashed out after her. Veronica’s brow furrowed when she walked in the door, and she glanced quizzically at him.
“When did you get a tree?”
“The staff put it up. It isn’t really my sort of thing, you know?”
“Too fancy, you mean?”
“I guess,” He’d meant having a tree at all, but if there was one thing he didn’t want, it was Veronica’s pity. Wisely, he chose to shut his mouth and leave it at that.
She settled herself on the couch, shucking her shoes and folding her legs up under a throw blanket. Logan looked at her for a long moment, then went to his room and found his gift to her.
“Where’s your dad tonight? I figured you’d be with him, celebrating and all.”
“He’s of chasing some bail jumper for Lamb. He didn’t really need the job, but I told him to take it. We can always use the money for Hearst or something. Being prepared, I suppose.”
Logan sat on the opposite end of the couch, maintaining a cautious distance. He put her present of the table, sliding it to her with a tiny shove.
“Do I open it now, or wait until morning?”
“Whatever you want, Veronica.”
“Okay, we’ll open them at the same time.”
Obediently, he lifted his package from the table where he’d left it. At Veronica’s nod he pulled of the bow, tearing off the paper as he did so. It was only when he set the monogrammed chip holder on the table that he realized she hadn’t touched her own gift.
“Hey!” He began to protest, but she silenced him with a look.
“I wanted to see you open it, okay?” She smiled nervously, “Did I choose alright? I guessed that the boy who has everything could use something personalized and swanky.”
“Swanky?”
“You know what I mean.”
“It’s perfect. Open yours.”
Logan noted that Veronica did not tear or scratch at her paper, but rather she folded it back primly. The tiny black velvet box made her frown at him, but the necklace inside made her lips twitch into a tiny smile.
“Is it glass?”
He exhaled the breath he hadn’t know he was holding.
“Yeah.”
“Help me put it on?”
She handed him the box and pulled her hair off her neck, twisting so that he could see where she’d been shaved. A tiny silver clip held the newly-grown blond locks, and when Logan hooked the clasp of the necklace together, he couldn’t help but run his thumb over the clip as well. He swallowed thickly, remembering his fear from that night, the night he thought he’d lost her. Then she’d put herself in danger again…
Veronica stood, slipping into her shoes and gathering the paper. He didn’t speak. At the door, she paused, then said clearly, “Merry Christmas, Logan.”
“Merry Christmas, Veronica.”
She started out the door, then stopped again.
“Logan?”
He lifted his head, staring mutely at the beautiful girl he didn’t think he could ever forget. The girl who stayed behind one Christmas, the girl who kissed him softly outside a seedy motel room, the girl who accused him of evil, the girl who refused to trust him completely and the girl who ignored his calls.
“Mmm?”
“I love you.”
And, just like that, she was gone.
It was like a thunderstorm erupted in his mind then ceased immediately, leaving him feeling clean and whole. He followed her out of the suite for the second time that night, catching her before she could push the button for the elevator.
Her hands went around his neck, clinging to him as he claimed her mouth again and again. Veronica’s hair smelled like cinnamon and he wondered if this was the Christmas smell she’d always talked about.
Taking her hands in his own, he pulled her fingers off his neck and dragged her into the suite, shutting the door and returning to her with a kiss. Logan ran his hands down her body, watching with delight as she tipped her head back, arching against him. He lowered his head to suckle at her neck, kissing a trail up to the spot on her ear he’d found so many Christmases ago.
She gasped, and whimpered when he refused to stop his assault on her body. Wrapping his arms around her, he lifted her gently and carried her to his bed.
Veronica pulled him on top her, nimbly flicking open the button on his shirt as she did so. He pulled at her sweater, getting it caught on her sole hairclip. She watched his face as he worked it free, running her fingers lightly over his chest.
Logan pulled her skirt off easily, smiling at the black silk bra and panties he’d bought her nearly three months earlier. She’d sworn never to wear black underthings and she had laughed when he handed her the bag.
“Why Miss Mars, I’m scandalized,” he quipped.
She flicked open the button of his jeans and as she pulled the zipper down slowly she locked eyes with him and murmured, “Yeah well, you should be.”
Before he could respond, she pulled his pants and boxers off completely. Logan reached for her, but Veronica smiled a vixen’s smile and pushed him back against the pillows.
Logan’s eyes rolled back into his head as he felt gentle fingertips run the length of his cock. It had been weeks since he’d even seen her for more than a moment’s time, and now this was happening. He knew he wasn’t going to last long, and he couldn’t stop his hips from jerking wildly. Her hand sped up its ministrations, and he moaned when he felt her lips against his skin.
Opening his eyes, he looked down to see Veronica’s blonde head bobbing over him as her wine-colored lips encircled his length. She steadied herself with one hand, and he watched as the other moved underneath her chin to cup him, her fingers rolling his balls carefully.
“Oh, God, Veronica!”
He came, hard in her mouth. Pushing her off him, he watched in fascination at her smirk as she swallowed.
“Scandalized?” She whispered, moving to straddle him with a kiss.
“Completely.”
Leaning forward, she kissed him again, and he responded in kind, tipping her backwards until it was she who lay against the covers. The sight of her, flushed and gorgeous was more than enough to send shivers straight down Logan’s body-and straight to his cock, which stiffened instantly. Reaching to the bedside table, he opened a drawer and pulled out a condom. Veronica tugged it from his grip and tore open the package, sliding the latex over him easily.
Veronica’s fingers traced unidentifiable patterns across his chest, and her back arched as he slid inside her. She was so tiny, so tight-she felt unbelievable around him. Slowly, he pushed completely inside her, then began pulling back out. Just as he was about to leave her completely, Logan heard her whimper.
She clutched at him as he moved back inside, moving faster and harder as she rocked upwards, slamming into him with the same force. Changing his angle, Logan moved deeper inside of her, she was so close; he could feel her vibrating under him, her body begging for release. Suddenly Veronica twisted beneath him, her body convulsing around him. It was enough and too much and he screamed out her name as she cried out his own.
Spent, exhausted, and happy, Logan curled around Veronica and fell asleep.
The rays of the sun struck his face at an odd angle, bent through the glass and twisted into tiny slivers that danced across the bedcovers. His arm tingled, feeling as if he had slept on pins and needles. Opening his eyes, he saw that Veronica’s head rested in the crook of his elbow.
As he shifted on the bed, pulling on his boxers, she opened her eyes, blinking rapidly as she adjusted to the morning light.
“G’morning,” she grumbled, sitting up and pulling the sheets around her.
“Hello there,”
“It’s Christmas morning.”
“So it is.”
“I wonder if Santa left me anything good.”
Unconsciously, she toyed with the necklace still clasped around her neck. Logan watched her fingers from his place on the edge of the bed.
“Logan?”
“Veronica?”
“Does this mean that you forgive me for being, well, a bitch to you?”
“You weren’t-“
Tears filled her eyes as she protested vehemently.
“I was though. I was distant and cold and ignored you…and I was wrong.”
They both looked at each other for a long moment.
“I was wrong.” She repeated softly.
“Are you going to stop putting yourself in unnecessary danger?”
“Unnecessary?”
Logan scooted closer to her on the bed.
“As in, will you please give me or Wallace-or even Piz--a call when you’re going to catch the bad guy?”
“Yes.”
He kissed her forehead, and she tilted her face up to meet his lips with hers.
“Then let’s go see what Santa thought of your behavior this year.”
Running her hands down his arms, she stopped him from getting up.
“Let’s just sit here for a while.”
“You don’t want to see your presents?”
She tilted her head, smiling at him beatifically.
“I think I got what I wished for right here.”
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
finito!
check it out dudes, it's for the loveathons: