Veronica's Adventures .... (WIP 6/6) Veronica/Logan - NC-17 - Rindee
Title: Veronica's Adventures in Law School (WIP 6/6)
Author: Rindee
Pairing: Veronica & Logan.
Additional Characters: Wallace, Keith, Weevil, and others.
Word Count: 7831
Rating: NC-17- language & adult situations.
Spoilers/Warnings: Through the end of S2.
Summary: AU future fic set five years after graduation - my take on what would happen if Logan and Veronica matured, tried to stay together in a somewhat healthy relationship, and chased bad guys too.
A/N: Begun as a one-shot for the vmlyricfic challenge, but I was having so much fun.... This was my first WIP and it's been a blast to write. Thanks to everyone who has commented - I know I wouldn't have finished without you. Cross-posted to the loveathons Epic challenge and veronicamarsfic. My betas recommend you read chapters 1 - 5 first. And I have to thank my betas: rejeneration, who leaves me speechless every time she whispers in my ear and whose work is awe-inspiring, and the wickedly sweet and decidedly wonderful taken_with_you; all the smut in the chapter is their fault. A special thanks and love to the amazing mastermia, who is just great and makes me laugh so hard I can't see straight. All mistakes are mine, as is the use of the dreaded "Ronnie" because, well, just because.
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
The house was unnaturally quiet, showing no signs of life, when Keith arrived early the next morning. He’d banged on the front door for almost ten minutes, but he couldn’t even get Backup to acknowledge him. That’s when he got anxious. He had keys to Logan’s, had had them for months, but was always loath to use them. Unable to roust anyone, he finally relented. Even when the door squeaked open, Backup didn’t come running. It was odd and, given the events of the prior evening, made the back of his neck tingle.
After walking through the empty, spotlessly clean kitchen, Keith finally found Backup twitching and snoring in Logan’s favorite chair. Logan was asleep on the sofa, sitting upright, his bandaged fingers resting on the nape of Veronica’s neck. She was curled up next to Logan, her head pillowed on the edge of his thigh, her hand tucked under his rear.
Knowing how difficult their night had been, Keith let them sleep, slipping back into the kitchen to rummage up some coffee to go with the donuts and pastry he’d brought. He didn’t expect the rest of the team for an hour or so, and figured he had plenty of time to wake his daughter and her boyfriend and debrief them.
Within minutes, the heady scent of just-brewed Costa Rican meandered through the house. Yawning widely, Backup clicked his jaw and padded into the dining room, nudged Keith in greeting and whined, begging to go out. Although Keith tried to be quiet, the rasp of the door jolted Logan into consciousness. Blinking against the bright morning sun filtering through, his quick eyes took in Keith on the deck and he groggily wiggled his fingers in greeting. He gazed at the elfin figure nuzzled into his leg and smiled beatifically.
Bending over, he slid his nose through her hair and across the skin at the back of her neck. “Veronica. Wake up, Sleeping Beauty.” Grumbling, she rolled onto her back, peaked open her eyes, and frowned as he hovered overhead.
“Wha’re you doing?”
“Trying to wake you. Your dad’s here, and I think he brought some breakfast. I know he made coffee. Do you want to get up now?”
“No.” Her eyes fluttered and closed.
His fingers traced a figure eight on her shoulder. “Ronnie.”
“Hmm. Go away, Logan.”
“Keith’s here, and I bet he’s brought éclairs.”
“Really? Did he bring a pony, too?”
He brushed his lips her ear and he blew daintily. “I’m sure about the donuts, not so much the pony.”
Veronica’s eyelids snapped open abruptly. “Okay, I’m up.” She struggled to a sitting position and regarded Logan with soft interest. “How are you feeling?” she asked, running her fingers along the swells of his bruised face. “Did you sleep?” She scooted up until her knees bumped against him, and hung her arms around his neck. “Are we okay?” she whispered.
Logan kissed the inside of her wrist. “I think so. How’s the ring feel this morning?”
A rosy flush crept up her neck and face. “I...it’s okay, Logan, but let me get used to it before we make any startling announcements, okay?”
Laughing to himself because she truly was almost the last to know, he nipped her skin, his near-black eyes dancing delightedly over the crook of her arm. “Are you going to help me shower?”
Glancing over at her dad, who was peacefully sipping coffee on the deck, watching Backup gambol in the waves, she pursed her lips and tsked. “I don’t know, Logan. Dad’s here.” She grinned mischievously. “But I guess you can’t take one by yourself, can you? And you certainly need one.” She wrinkled her nose. Logan opened wide and molded his mouth around the underside of her wrist, his wily tongue tickling the tender skin. “Okay, okay. Let’s go, big guy, I need my éclair.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Twenty-five minutes later, freshly showered and glowing, Veronica dashed down to have coffee with her dad. When Logan, also clean and newly shaved, joined them five minutes later, the dining room table was covered with photographs, witness statements, police reports, and case files. All of it pertaining to Maccaluso, Buell, the ONTCers, and the mysterious, wanted arsonist. Logan tossed out another file. “You forgot one.”
“St. Arnold?” Keith asked with a knowing look.
Veronica carefully scrutinized Logan but said nothing. They began reviewing the documents, looking for a connection, and Keith began interrogating Logan about what he’d observed while inside the warehouse. Unfortunately, other than a few snippets of conversation, Logan hadn’t seen or heard anything that revealed what the ONTC crew had been up to.
They’d been at it for about 20 minutes when Sam arrived, Weevil in tow; he’d been ‘released’ into Sam’s custody. Having spent the best part of the night in conference with the local agents, Sam contributed the FBI’s Maccaluso files to the collection. Keith broke out the pastries and Krispy Kremes while Veronica poured the coffee. The group headed outside to listen to Weevil and to discuss what they knew and what they were still missing.
About an hour later, Sam began to sum it up. “Okay, we’ve got a strangely mysterious law student who’s been hanging around Veronica too much and who, inexplicably, has absolutely no discernible background. He leads Logan to the docks, and it looks like he’s about to meet a connection when Logan gets nabbed.”
As everyone nodded, Keith took over. “We’ve got your garden variety Hispanic street gang - sorry, Eli - ” Weevil motioned ‘no offense’ and Keith continued, “Who are suddenly a bit too protective of an otherwise average, seedy warehouse on the port. About a hundred yards from St. Arnold’s meeting, they grab up Logan, but don’t seem to know who he is.”
Logan had been listening intently, but his eyes were trained on Veronica’s hands, hidden in her lap as they fidgeted and spun her ring round and round. Suddenly he interjected, “Wait! Keith, I wasn’t even that far from St. Arnold. In fact, I was so close they had to have known he was there. Is it possible there’s a connection between the OTNC and St. Arnold?”
“Good question, Logan,” Sam cut in. “We’ll come back to it. We’ve got the warehouse itself. Eli?”
“Yeah, boss?”
“Has the gang always operated on the docks, from a warehouse?”
“Nope. Not so far as I know. I can ask around, but last I heard, they had a crib in the barrio. In an apartment building they controlled. Usually, when you’re running a distribution game, you want to be close to the streets where you’re selling.”
Sam nodded soberly. “Yeah, that’s been my experience as well. It doesn’t track that they’re suddenly in the import-export business.”
“Sam?” Keith asked suddenly. “You have any contacts at the DEA who you can call to see if the ONTC has branched out or expanded into a new avenue of crime?”
“I’m sure I know someone over there. I’ll make some calls when we’re through. Someone start a list.”
“I got it,” Logan prompted. “I’m taking notes as we go.”
Surprised, Veronica twisted to look with fresh appreciation at her boyfriend-cum-fiancée who seemed to have concealed talents and skills she’d yet to experience. Feeling her silent appraisal, Logan grinned to himself. The things she still didn’t know....
“Okay,” Sam resumed his train of thought. “We have a corrupt judge who has been ignoring the law and dealing favors for...”
“...untaxed benefits and income,” Weevil mumbled.
“Exactly,” Keith affirmed. “And one of the Judge’s patrons, landowner Buddy Buell, who seems to be unconnected to anything or anyone or than Maccaluso.”
“Keith,” Sam interrupted. “Don’t forget Mr. Orfanos. We can’t be sure he’s affiliated with Buell and Macculso, but we know he was at Torrey Pines when Logan and Veronica were spying on them, and we know Veronica’s car was torched the very next night. So his presence seems to be too big of a coincidence to ignore.”
“Yeah, Sam. I agree.” As Keith spoke, without saying a word, Veronica rose from the table, went into the house and ran up the stairs. Logan’s eyes followed her all the way to the stairwell while the men continued talking.
Ten minutes later, Veronica returned and handed Keith a piece of paper. “What’s this, Honey?”
Lips pursed, she shrugged nonchalantly. “Just read it, Dad.”
As the group waited expectantly, Veronica slipped into her seat next to Logan and threaded her fingers through his. One eye on Keith, Logan brought her hand to his mouth and lovingly kissed her stiff, purplish knuckles. From his chair across the table, Weevil winked at them. He and Logan chuckled softly as Veronica blushed a cheery crimson.
“What is it, Keith?” Sam inquired. Although he’d known Veronica since the day of her birth, he had always been far enough away that he never really appreciated her quick mind and mental acuity.
Beaming as only a proud father can, Keith looked at his daughter and was once again dazzled. “I think you found it, Sweetheart.” He turned to Sam. “The warehouse is owned by a closely held, private corporation.” He waved the paper. “And guess who the corporate officers are? Any takers?”
Sam rocked back on his heels and grinned at his goddaughter. “Way to go, Veronica. Are you sure you don’t want to come work for me? I could use a brain like yours.”
“Hands off, Sam,” Keith warned. “She belongs to us,” he added, gesturing between himself to Logan.
Slouched in his comfy deck chair, still clinging to Veronica’s fingers, Logan glowed with satisfaction. “I give up, Mr. Mars. Who are the officers?”
“Buell and Maccaluso,” Keith announced delightedly. “We still don’t have all the pieces, but now we know there’s at least one thing tying all our suspects together. We just have to figure out what they’re really up to. Good work, Honey.”
Veronica smiled happily, then yawned. “Excuse me; sorry, Dad.”
Everyone burst out laughing. “Okay, Veronica. We get it,” Keith said, acknowledging his daughter’s fatigue and Logan’s obviously battered condition. “We’ll get out of here and let you and Logan rest.”
On cue, Weevil stood and began gathering the dirty cups and plates while Sam and Keith began reassembling the files. Tiredly lurching to his feet, Logan began piling the remaining sweets onto a tray; he knew Veronica wasn’t going to be satisfied with the two éclairs she’d gobbled earlier. And he was positive she would be hungry... later.
Agreeing to head over to Keith’s office, Sam and Weevil said their goodbyes and pulled away. Realizing Veronica and Keith hadn’t had more than a minute alone since the night before, Logan disappeared into the kitchen to load the dishwasher and hide the leftover pastries. Worried that she was about to get the lecture she’d dodged twelve hours earlier, Veronica lingered on the deck, throwing a rubber ball to Backup.
Emotions swirling, Keith watched her with a mixture of pride, concern and relief. Finally, he called, “Veronica? Honey?” She turned to look at him, her eyes so weary he suddenly felt guilty for having invaded their home to go over the case. “We need to talk.” Her frown stabbed at him.
“I know, Dad, but....” She walked slowly up to him, and he enveloped her in a tight hug, rocking her securely in his arms.
“But it can wait until you’ve slept some more. I just wanted to see the famous ring and congratulate you and Logan.” Pulling back, he stared into her puzzled eyes and gently added, “He’s talked about nothing else for weeks now.” Thoroughly confused, she tentatively held out her left hand. “It really is a cigar band.” Veronica bit her lip and nodded. “Why a cigar band? Logan told me you’d understand, but I’m afraid I don’t get it.”
Like sunbeams after a thunderstorm, Veronica’s eyes cleared and she slowly smiled. “We were married once before, and it’s what we used then. We figured if it was good enough the first time....” Seeing her father’s quizzical look, she continued. “At the end of eighth grade, we had to do a play; Shakespeare. Remember, Dad?”
“It was a long time ago, Veronica,” he said, embarrassed. “Ten years. I’m afraid your old man’s memory isn’t as good as it should be. What was the play?”
“Taming of the Shrew,” Logan said, joining them on the porch. “Veronica was Kate, and I was Petruchio.”
❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈
Mrs. MacDougal looked around the classroom. “Alright, class. I’ll take volunteers first, and then I’ll assign the remaining roles. Who wants to be the younger sister, Bianca?” Immediately, Madison Sinclair’s hand shot up. “Excellent, Madison. I think you’ll make a lovely Bianca. Boys, which of you want to be her suitors?”
From two rows behind, Logan flung a spitball over Veronica’s head, directly at Duncan. The wad of soggy paper hit its target and stuck in Duncan’s hair. Irritated, he yanked at it, grinning sheepishly as Veronica giggled.
“Casey Gant. Did I see your hand?” Mrs. MacDougal continued as she strolled to the back of the classroom.
“Yes, Ma’am,” he replied politely as Logan and Dick snickered behind their hands.
“Suckup,” they hissed at Casey.
“Casey, you can be Bianca’s true love, Lucentio.”
“Thank you, Mrs. MacDougal,” Casey simpered, turning his head so the teacher didn’t see him waggle his eyebrows licentiously at Dick and Logan.
“Hey Maddy,” Dick whispered. “Casey’s in love with you. He wants to - ”
“That’s enough, Mr. Casablancas. You’ve just volunteered to be Tranio.”
“Way to go, genius,” Logan mumbled.
“Mrs. MacDougal,” Dick protested. “I can’t play a tranny. I’m all-l-l-l-l man.”
“Richard Casablancas! One more comment like that and you’ll be warming a seat in the front office. Tranio, for your information, is not a - never mind. He’s one of the fair Bianca’s many suitors.”
“Oh. Okay, Mrs. M. I’m in.”
“Let me see.” Mrs. MacDougal consulted her script. “I need one more boy to play Bianca’s third admirer.” A second and third spitball sailed at the back of Duncan’s neck. As he put up his hand to block further projectiles, Mrs. MacDougal turned to walk back to the front. “Thank you, Duncan,” she beamed. “I’m glad you’re going to participate. You are Gremio. Remember, this is a class project, and everyone will be doing something.”
Veronica’s head thunked to her desk as she tried to conceal her near-convulsive giggling behind her arms. Duncan swivelled and, using his text as cover, flipped Logan off. Logan exaggeratedly pursed his lips and blew Duncan a kiss.
“Logan Echolls. You certainly know something about acting. Have either of your parents ever acted on stage?”
“Um. I’m not sure. I think my dad has acted everywhere one can,” he replied sarcastically.
“Really?” the teacher asked, missing his meaning. “That’s wonderful. Why don’t you take the part of Petruchio, Logan?”
“I’m not really sure I inherited my father’s talent, Mrs. MacDougal.”
“Nonsense, Logan. You’ll be wonderful. You have such ... presence,” she assured him fawningly. “Okay, that’s it for the major - oh, I’m sorry. There’s one more part, for a girl. It’s the title role, in fact. Who’d like to play The Shrew - I mean, Kate? Who wants to be Kate?”
As Mrs. MacDougal scanned the room, each of her favorites, Shelley Pomroy, Carrie Bishop, and Angie Dahl, hid their faces or studiously looked away. Her gaze fell on Cindy MacKenzie, but she shook her head with distain, and Mrs. MacDougal moved on. Duncan, having turned to whisper to Veronica, caught her attention. “Veronica Mars.”
“Ye...yes?”
“You like Shakespeare.”
“I do.”
“Perfect. You can be Kate. It’ll do you good to be on stage, bring you out of your shell a little, and I’m sure Mr. Echolls will be glad to offer you his insight into the craft of acting, won’t you, Logan?”
“Certainly, Mrs. MacDougal. I’m always happy to be of assistance to Veronica.” Logan smirked, his smile widening at the sight of Duncan’s pained, resentful glare. Catching Veronica’s eye, he winked reassuringly.
“Okay, class. Tomorrow, I’ll post the names of rest of the cast. Anyone who doesn’t have a part, and those of you who only have a few lines, will be responsible for scenery and lighting and preparing a playbill for the audience. Dick and Duncan, Casey, Madison, Logan, and Veronica, I suggest you start practicing right way. You’ll have some class time, but you’ll be expected to learn the majority of your lines on your own. Perhaps you can all get together after school. Tomorrow, at the beginning of the period, I’ll give you a few minutes to make your plans. That’s it for now. Read the play tonight and be prepared to discuss the staging aspects of it in class tomorrow. Everyone must participate in the discussion.”
❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈
Although it was an “off” week for Logan and Lilly, Veronica couldn’t wait to get home and tell her what had happened. She knew Lilly would find the thought of Veronica and Logan playing lovers as hilarious as she did. Predictably, even though she was now in high school, Lilly decided to take charge of and direct the project; she organized a rehearsal for the following afternoon at the Kanes’ home.
Always eager to return to Lilly’s good graces, Logan was the first to arrive. In typical Logan fashion, he brought gifts; the new TLC CD, No Scrubs, for Lilly and a bottle of vodka and a handful of cigars for the guys. Embarrassing her to no end, Logan gleefully presented Veronica with a vintage copy of Sanford Meisner’s On Acting. Handing it to her, he tugged one of her braids. “I am officially sharing my vast knowledge of acting with you.”
“Thanks, Logan.” Veronica smiled shyly. “I’ll read it tonight. I know I’m gonna be horrible at this.”
“Okay, everyone,” Lilly exclaimed, clapping her hands excitedly. “Let’s get going. Logan,” She tossed her hair and smirked at him with impish eyes. “I think you and Veronica should start with the most famous scene in the play, ‘Kiss me, Kate.’ So you guys can get it out of the way and relax. Plus, it’ll look better on stage if you guys have practiced once or twice.”
Dick and Casey hooted and whoofed, while Duncan squirmed. Veronica blushed and began to protest. “Come on, Veronica. Logan’s out of practice and he needs the work. I mean, he probably hasn’t kissed a girl in at least a week, have you, lovah?”
Puzzled, but not opposed to kissing Veronica now that he had Lilly’s permission, Logan winked. “Sure thing, Lil. You should know. What’s the scene number?”
“It’s the last scene of Act Five.”
“Uh, Lilly? Can I talk to you for a minute?”
“Veronica,” Lilly said in her usual, sly, mocking tone. “Of course you can. Boys,” Lilly arched her eyebrows dramatically. “I must have a brief conference with my lead actress. Excuse us for a moment, will you?”
Tugging Veronica into the powder room, Lilly pounced. “What’s wrong, Veronica. Don’t you want to kiss Logan? You should, I mean, he’s delicious,” Lilly widened her eyes theatrically. “The things that boy can do with his tongue, Veronica.” She laughed loudly. “You don’t know what you’re missing.”
“But that’s the thing, Lilly,” Veronica fretted. “I mean ... I’ve never really kissed a guy before ... not really.”
“Don’t be silly, Veronica,” she responded patronizingly. “Just close your eyes and open your mouth. Logan will do the rest,” she giggled. “Trust me, Veronica. You’re in good hands, if you know what I mean.”
“He’s your boyfriend, Lilly,” Veronica protested in a faint voice as she stared at the Italian marble floor tile. “I can’t kiss Logan in front of you ... and Duncan ... and Dick and Casey.”
“Oh, Veronica.” Lilly rolled her eyes and hmpffed. “I know. We’ll practice the scene up to the kiss. We’ll do it a couple of times, because you have a long soliloquy to learn, and when you’re comfortable, I’ll clear the room and you guys can practice - just once, if it’ll make you feel better, big baby.”
Sighing gratefully, Veronica and Lilly emerged giggling to rejoin the boys. Without editorializing, Lilly explained her plan. As she reached the part where everyone was going to leave, Logan began to chuckle under his breath, his eyes gleaming wickedly. Rehearsal began amid general hilarity. In the middle of the first scene of Act Five, Logan interrupted. “Wait a minute, Lil. Are Veronica and I, I mean Kate and Petruchio, already married?”
“Yeah, doofus. Back in those days, a gentleman couldn’t kiss a lady before he married her. ‘Course, you’re not a gentleman, so how would you know, right, Veronica?”
“Duh, dude,” Dick chimed in. “‘Course, that assumes Veronica’s a lady.”
When it was time to let Veronica and Logan ‘practice’ alone, Duncan suddenly decided he didn’t want to leave. Unconvinced by his facile but steadfast arguments, Lilly determinedly shoved him out of the room, leaving an anxious Veronica alone with Logan Echolls. The silence in the room was deafening. To break the ice, Logan handed her a cigar band. “Here. Put this on.”
“What...why?”
“We’re supposed to be married. And you won’t be cheating if you’re kissing your husband, so put it on. That way, the kissing won’t count.”
She smiled, understanding him. “Married, huh? We’re married? Funny, but I don’t remember the honeymoon,” she teased as she slid the cigar band on her finger. Logan brushed an errant piece of hair from her face.
“Okay, wife, nice and easy.” He tilted her chin up, wrapped his fingers around her jaw, and gently pressed his lips against hers. Surprising both herself and him, after a moment, she opened her mouth and kissed him back. Grinning as he slid his tongue in her mouth, he mumbled, “Some day, Veronica, you’re going to make someone a fine wife.”
❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈
“And so we were ‘married’, Dad.”
“Little did we know,” Logan paused, remembering all that had happened, all the things that had gone on between them, from then until now. “That one day, I’d be standing at alter, hopes dashed, jilted by my brilliant, inscrutable fiancée.” He stared at her meaningfully.
“Logan!” she protested, stung by his words. “I said, yes, didn’t I?”
“I feel a headache coming on,” Keith said quickly. “I think that’s my cue to go. Honey,” he hugged her again. “Be nice to him, at least for today. He had a rough night. And you,” he addressed Logan, “Stop annoying my daughter. You may have come a long way, Logan Echolls, but you still don’t deserve her.”
“Don’t I know it,” Logan replied sheepishly, eyes twinkling.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Working on the coffee table, Weevil sorted and stacked all the evidence and began labeling files. Cloistered in Keith’s office, Sam was on the phone with the local DEA office. Weevil could hear the mumbling and the buzz of the fax machine. It was about noon when Keith ambled in, armed with sandwiches and more coffee.
He stood and watched Eli for a moment, unsurprised at his efficiency. Eli glanced up as Keith rattled the bag temptingly. “I got lunch.”
“You tryin’ to get me fat, Sheriff?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.
“Eli.” Keith patted his belly. “Do I look fat?” Before Weevil could answer, Keith added, “Never mind. Don’t answer that.”
Weevil grinned and mimed locking his lips. “How’s Vee?”
Keith shrugged worriedly. “She’s fine. A bit shaken, but I’m sure they’ll both recover.”
They heard the crack of the phone hitting the cradle. “Hey, Keith, is that you?”
“Yeah. I brought lunch,” Keith hollered.
“Keith?”
“Yeah, Sam?” He replied as Sam strolled into the ante-room.
“Have you ever met a crisis that food wasn’t the answer to?” The two men laughed the easy, knowing laugh of comrades in arms. “I think I have another part of the puzzle.”
“Yeah?” He looked hopeful. “What’s that?”
Sam patted Keith on the shoulder. “Let’s eat, buddy. I’ll fill you in while we talk. C’mon, Eli.” They moved to the receptionist’s desk and began to distribute the food. For a minute, the only noise was the rustle of paper and sound of chewing. Just as Sam wiped his mouth and prepared to speak, they heard the clomp of footsteps on the stairs. Nervously, Keith turned to the door.
“Mr. Mars?”
“Uh, yeah. C’mon in - I’m sorry, I know you go to school with Veronica, but I don’t - ”
Standing in the doorway was none other than their fifth case-file suspect, Jason St. Arnold, otherwise known as Special Agent Francis O’Connor. “We met Mr. Mars. And I’m fairly sure you remember my name, and probably my face too.” He turned, “And you must be Mr. Lawrence.”
“I am. Keith, meet Special Agent Francis O’Connor. He’s undercover with the local DEA.”
Keith Mars’ face lit up and glowed as if powered from within. “Ah. Well, at least some things are starting to make sense. Nice to meet you.”
O’Connor held his hand out cautiously, glancing uneasily at Eli “Weevil” Navarro, who was staring interestedly from his slouched position in his chair, black leather boots crossed in front of him, arms crossed over his leather-clad chest. “Don’t worry about Eli,” Keith advised the young man. “He works for me. He’s undercover too,” he added with an ironic chuckle.
“So,” the DEA agent replied, looking at Sam. “Is it okay to talk?”
Sam nodded. “If Keith says it’s okay, it’s good enough for me.”
Studying his boots, Eli announced, “I’m still here, guys. If you want me to leave, say the word.”
“It’s fine - you’re fine - Eli,” Keith assured him. “Gentlemen; Sam, Francis - do you prefer Frank - let’s sit down and talk, shall we?”
“Fine by me, and, yes, please call me Frank.”
“Okay.” Keith scrubbed his hands together as he turned to the young DEA agent. “I assume you were undercover on the docks for a drug-related case so - ”
“ - How does that fit with your investigation? Honestly, Mr. Mars, I’m still not sure.”
“Okay, Frank, let me tell you what Keith and I know. As I understand it, Keith’s investigation began with Judge Maccaluso, who was, believe it or not, cheating on his wife.”
Surprised and bemused, Weevil busted. “Hold it, Sheriff. You mean this whole thing started because the old guy was stepping out on the missus?”
“Yes, Eli, that is what I was originally hired to investigate. But what I found was that Maccaluso, in addition to being - ”
“ - a lyin’ scumbag cabrón.”
“Right. In addition to being a philanderer, the good judge was taking bribes to fix cases. And the person he was fixing them for was Buddy Buell. So, thinking it was a relatively low risk, white collar thing, I sent Veronica and Logan to see if we could get evidence of Buell and Maccaluso’s connection.”
“That where Echolls got the second black eye?”
“Yes. I showed the pictures to the Bureau, and Sam, why don’t you take it from here.”
“When I reviewed the pictures, I noticed something. Behind the bar at Torrey Pines was a guy on ATF’s Most Wanted list. George Anthony Orfanos is charged with arson and arson to commit a felony, mail fraud, transportation of stolen property and the ever-popular conspiracy. He’s been wanted since 1992.”
“I got all that before, Sheriff, but what’s the connection ... hold up ... we know there’s a relationship between the ONTC crew and Buell because of the warehouse, but how does Ofay or Orfan or whatever-his-name-was fit into the picture?”
“Weevil,” Sam said. “Orfanos is an arsonist - a torch - but he’s also an import-export guy, if you know what I mean....”
“I think, Sam, this is where I come in. Before I was sent to law school, to keep an eye on Veronica because Keith’s investigation was heating up, the Task Force sent me undercover to find out what the ONTCers were up to, because recently, their corner-store drug business changed and, suddenly, both the quantity and quality were off the charts. They had a steady supply of china white - heroin - which they’d never dealt before, and the coke was almost 85 percent pure, which is unheard of for a relatively low level Hispanic gang.” Frank glanced at Weevil, who nodded his agreement.
“Right,” Sam added. “And I think this is where Keith’s investigation collided with ATF’s wanted man. Orfanos hooked up with the gang and had them stealing high end cars. With his transportation connections, he shipped ‘em to South America - ”
“ - And they got the drugs in trade,” Weevil announced, pleased with himself.
“According to my contacts,” Keith picked up the thread, “Buell has always been a little shady, and he and Orfanos must have collaborated on the whole warehouse thing. When Buell realized my investigation into Maccaluso’s affairs might reach him too, he got hinky and decided to scare us. Unfortunately for him, and for Logan and Veronica, Buell was actually still ahead of us. If he hadn’t had Orfanos make a move on Veronica, I was about ready to wrap up the bribery investigation and turn over my report to the authorities.”
“He probably would have only been prosecuted for bribery, and might not have done any time, or, if he did, it would have been in minimum security like Danbury. I’m pretty sure no one at the Bureau would have made the connection - ”
“Except they tried to scare off my daughter - ”
“And pissed off Logan Echolls....” Weevil chuckled in admiration. “I gotta hand it to you, Sheriff, they’re kinda made for each other.” Keith winced.
“Okay, gentlemen, it’s time to put our report together so Frank and I can take it to our agencies and get these guys off the street before someone really gets hurt.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Atta boy,” she cooed, ruffling Backup’s coat as he gulped from his dish. “You be a good boy and stay downstairs, okay?” As Backup trailed her every step, she checked the locks on the front and back doors and, although it was still morning, set the alarm. “Your daddy and I are going to take a nap now, so watch the house and don’t let anyone in.”
Weary beyond words, she trudged upstairs, softly calling for Logan as she climbed. She found him sitting stiffly on the bench next to the ornate bathtub, his sling and bandages crumpled on the floor, a grimace of pain on his face as he cradled his left hand to his chest. The scowl disappeared the moment he saw her.
“Logan? Are you alright?”
“Better now,” he confided, smiling bravely. “Help me?”
“You want to soak?”
“Yeah. I thought maybe it would loosen me up.”
Biting her lip - Logan never asked her for help, he always took care of her - she spun the faucet handles and watched as the steam began to rise. While waiting for the tub to fill, she sat on the floor next to him and tenderly removed his shoes and socks. As she reached up to unbutton his plaid cotton overshirt, he placed his large hands over her slender ones and pressed them to his chest. She was reassured to feel his heart beating strongly, despite his battered condition.
“C’mere,” he implored hoarsely, sliding her between his outstretched legs. He leaned forward gingerly and covered her lips with his. His kiss was slow but hungry, as if he needed her.
“Logan,” she whispered into his mouth. “Stop it. Let me take your clothes off.”
He leaned back, an evil glint in his eye. “Stop, let me take your clothes off? Babe, you are a paradox.” She flushed and grinned and resumed fumbling with his buttons. Teasingly, he pushed her hands away. “I can handle the shirt, Veronica. It’s my jeans I need help with.”
She stood suddenly, and stepped back to the bath. “I’m going to put some bath salts in. They might smell a little girly, but they’ll feel great.” He nodded, gritting his teeth as he slid his shirt off. “If you’re not going to let me help you....”
Raising his hands in silent assent, Logan sat patiently as she slipped her hands underneath his tee and stretched the fabric so he could pull his arms out from beneath. As she moved closer to tug it over his head, Veronica couldn’t help running her hands over the broad plain of his chest, her fingers brushing delicately but purposefully over his nipples. As his head cleared the fabric, she stifled her gasp at her first full, daylight look at his bruised, stitched flesh. Despite his injuries, Logan’s body responded as usual to her touch; she could feel the length of him thickening against her thigh.
“Uh...Babe?”
Blinking quickly, her lips twitched as she tried not to smile. “Yes?”
“I thought you said - ”
“Shh,” she stilled him with two fingers across his lips. “Less talking, more action.” She kissed his forehead. “Can you stand, or should I take them off here?” she asked, indicating, with a tilt of her head, the jeans he still wore.
His deep chocolate eyes darkened. “Please. By all means....” He motioned to the general area of his hips. Veronica placed her hands on either side of his legs and knelt between them. Once she was settled, her hands fluttered across his stomach before descending to his zipper. Tongue tucked between her teeth, she softly popped the snap and, bending forward, playfully kissed his belly button.
“Mmm,” she hummed, snagging the zip.
“Ronnie,” he groaned, shuddering as the fastener snicked downward.
“Good to know it still works,” she announced, batting her eyelashes.
“It works just fine,” he grunted as she sat back and began tugging at his pants. Finally, Veronica was able to yank them off his ankles. Carelessly tossing them over her shoulder, she looked at his bulging boxers. “Need some help there too, big guy?”
“You’re lucky I can’t move too fast right now,” he croaked, his voice coarse with desire. “I’ll take ‘em off,” he added harshly, almost embarrassed as she put her hand on the waistband.
“It’s not like I haven’t seen you hard before, Logan,” she reminded him with a snort.
“Yeah, but usually, you’re naked too.” He kicked his shorts to the floor. For just a moment, Veronica was transfixed by the sight of him in his fully-erect glory. She shook her head and focused on his face.
“Get in,” she ordered, holding out her hand. “I’ll give you a massage.”
Obediently, Logan grasped her fingers and let her assist him in into the tub, hissing as his skin hit the steamy water. “Damn, Veronica. Are you trying to boil me alive?”
“What? It’s not that hot, I checked it.”
“Well you get in then,” he groused.
“Shut up, Logan, and relax, will you?”
Carefully, he leaned back against the terry-cloth pillow, sighing gratefully as the warm water surrounded him. Picking up a nubby natural sponge, Veronica began to sluice water across his shoulders and over his chest. Basking under her ministrations, Logan closed his eyes and hummed, trying to distract himself from his throbbing cock.
Tossing the sponge into the water at his feet, Veronica picked up a bottle of scented oil. “Logan,” she murmured. “Sit up a little and let me do your shoulders. I promise I’ll be gentle.”
He didn’t answer, but slithered upward and leaned forward, allowing her access to his back. She warmed the oil in her hands and began to work on the knots in his neck, avoiding the purple lumps and angry red gashes. As her nimble hands slid over his body, his arousal intensified. Seemingly oblivious to his increasing discomfort, she continued kneading his muscles, tilting closer to him to reach both sides.
Suddenly, without a word of warning, he grabbed her and jerked, flipping her into the bath on top of him. She landed sideways between his legs, her hips resting against his thigh. He guffawed in delight as her shrilled oath bounced off the tiled walls. “That’s where I need you, Veronica,” he announced, wrapping his arms around her wiggling body. “Right there, baby.”
Spitting and slinging water as she raised her head, Veronica blinked rapidly, her azure eyes glittering. She moved her hand underneath her leg to wrap around his dick. “Right here?” she challenged. “Or here?” she continued, gliding her fingers up and down.
Logan moaned, low and guttural, his head flung back against the cushion, his eyes squeezed shut. Cautiously, Veronica shifted to face him, her thighs spanning his; she continued to stroke up and down, her thumb brushing the ridge with each upward caress. Angling forward, she brought her mouth to his chest, her tongue tracing his nipple as her hot fingers circled his cock. Glancing at him, her hungry eyes watched her lover’s face in awe.
He panted and clutched at her desperately, trying not to come. “C’mon, baby,” she purred into his chest. “It’s okay,” she promised, her lips traveling lower. Grunting, his hips rocked up, once, twice, until, unable to stop, he thrust against her belly and spilled into her hands. Instinctively, she grabbed and held him tightly, her sodden head over his heart as he shuddered beneath her.
“Oh, god, baby,” he groaned in her ear. “The things you do to me.”
They laid there for a minute or two, half in and half out of the slippery water, until it began to cool. “Logan. We have to get out now. You need a nap, and I need to get out of my wet,” she slapped his chest, “clothes.”
“Uh huh,” he agreed, his arms tightening around her. She wriggled against him and drew her head back to peer into his eyes. “I’m not tired,” he informed her cockily. “In fact, I’m feeling pretty chipper right about now.”
Rising to her knees, Veronica put one hand on the edge of the bathtub and started to pull herself out. When he reached for her, she flattened her palm on his chest. “I get it, Logan. I do. But not in the bath. I’m sticky, wet, and my clothes are soaked,” she pouted.
Growling, Logan sat up quickly, his knees bumping her derriere. “What good is it going to do to clean up now, Veronica? I’m only going to get you wet all over again,” he said menacingly.
“You need to rest.” She rose and reached for a towel. “Hang on a sec, I want to get out of these wet things.”
Placidly sitting cross-legged in the tub, Logan watched eagerly as Veronica, eyes coolly meeting his, nonchalantly untied her sweats and let them tumble to the floor. She paused, letting him absorb the view, then turned away and yanked her tee over her head. “Veronica,” Logan begged. “Turn around so I can see you.” Like a mischievous cat, she glanced over her shoulder and shot him a look that was a mixture of innocence and daring.
“You’ve seen me before, Logan.”
“I know, but I want to see you wet.”
Shaking her head playfully, she bent over, displaying her behind as she dried her legs. Logan let out a pitiful groan.
“Woman. You are so going to regret abusing me like this.”
As if he wasn’t in the room, Veronica continued, flipping the towel over her shoulders and sliding it across her back and down to her butt. She could hear Logan’s labored breathing. When she’d finished her body, she took her brush and started smoothing her damp, tangled tresses; after, she leaned forward and wound her hair into a knot on top of her head. Finding one of Logan’s tee shirts, she slipped it on and returned to the edge of the tub.
“Okay, now you can get out.”
“But I’m all slick.”
“It’s body oil. It will make your skin soft and silky. C’mon, lean on me. And please, be careful. I don’t want to clean up any more of your blood. Ever again.”
Once out of the tub, he stood rigidly, still as stone, as Veronica began to dry him off. Climbing on the bench so she could reach the top of his head, she began briskly rubbing his hair. From there, she worked her way down, lovingly and carefully sliding the fluffy cloth over his left dislocated shoulder and down his other arm. Crouching, she skimmed his back down to the narrow of his spine, massaging the glossy oil into his skin. Her efforts made her pant lightly, and Logan could feel the warm air flow across his back. Teasingly, he flexed his muscles, causing Veronica to giggle when he vibrated and rolled under her hands.
She straightened up and, draping herself over his good shoulder, began stroking the flat, heavy muscles of his chest, her loving touch sending twinges through his body. Tired, but feeling the twitchy beginnings of arousal, Logan swayed, nestling back against her belly and dewy thighs. Veronica sucked in a quick breath and her hands began to tremble. Tucking her chin under his ear, she whispered, “Logan? You need to take it easy.”
Turning to gaze into her luminous sea-green eyes, he smiled against her pixie lips. “Then you better stop touching me, blondie.” Grinning, she kissed him lightly and clambered off the bench. Moving to a position in front of him, she made to drop to her knees, but before she could, Logan captured her wrist and pulled her to him. Her arms slid comfortably around his waist as his body sagged into hers; she could feel his excitement.
“I’m dry enough, Veronica. Leave it alone, unless you want to deal with the consequences,” he commanded gruffly, his eyes burning into hers.
Tilting back to examine his face, she regarded him bemusedly. “I suppose it would be superfluous to ask whether you’re up to it?” She could feel him shaking and realized he needed to be off his feet. “C’mon.” Still snuggled in his embrace, she walked slowly backward, bringing him with her, guiding him into their bedroom. When the backs of her knees encountered the side of the bed, she sat and fell backward, pulling him atop her petite body. “Is this better?”
He carefully rolled to his side, taking her with him so as not to lose body contact. “This is.” Face to face, nose to nose, they grinned at each other, Veronica studying his bruised face. Reaching up, she brushed worried fingers through his damp hair.
“Logan? ... Baby? ... We ... We don’t have to do anything right - ” Before she could finish, his lips found her neck, licking and sucking at the particular tender spots. Sighing appreciatively, she reclined her head, exposing her throat to his demanding tongue and teeth. When he became more exacting, she interrupted his exploration, slipping her hands between them to shove gently, putting Logan on his back.
“Wait a minute,” she pleaded. “If you’re determined to do this now...” Sitting up, she hastily tugged the shirt off. On her knees, completely naked, her back arched and nipples proudly protruding, her eyes traveled his body, assessing it, planning her assault. Recognizing his limited dexterity, she ran her hands over her breasts, sighing and rubbing her nipples.
Logan moaned and shifted restlessly, his cock and balls beginning to ache. “Dammit, babe. Are you trying to kill the rest of me?”
“I’m not done,” she whimpered, circling her thumb around her areole as her breath quickened. Her eyes glowed as she gloried in her power over his body. “How ‘bout you get all the way in bed? And lay back against the pillows.”
Scooting up the satiny sheets in his condition was a cumbersome maneuver, and Logan gratefully reclined on a mound of pillows once he was in place. Hopping off the bed, Veronica stalked around to his side and carefully propped up his weak shoulder, gently cushioning it against any sudden movement. Satisfied, she returned to the empty bedside and climbed on, crawling gracefully across to perch at Logan’s hip.
Watching her movements with sleepy eyes, Logan was unprepared for the sizzle that shot through his body when her tiny knees bumped him, her breasts flattening against his chest as she coiled onto him. “Logan,” she murmured into his neck. “I’m going to ask once more, are you sure?”
He nodded vigorously, his hand palming the back of her head to bring her to his mouth. “I want to,” he mumbled against her heated lips. “I need you, Babe.” They kissed longingly, tongues tangling recklessly as their fervor quickened. Wiggling excitedly, Veronica pulled away and rose to her knees. She hiked a slender, toned leg over his stomach and slid backward, smearing her essence over his skin. “Ah, God,” he huffed; she could feel him throbbing against her backside.
Overcome for a moment, she laid her head on his chest, pressed her ear over his heart, and listened to its strong, solid thump. She breathed in his scent, his heady manliness, her fingernails drawing aimless, ghostly lines, bars and curlicues on his ribs. Awash in the sensations of his comforting body, she briefly lost herself.
Logan’s strangled “Babe?” brought her back. She giggled, and the sound shot straight to Logan’s hard-on. “Are you gonna....” Resting her chin on his sternum, she extravagantly swiped her tongue over each of his nipples, her hands slipping behind to fondle his erection. Realizing he was nearly ready, she took his good hand in hers and placed it between them, cradling it at the vee of her thighs. In an instant, Logan’s long, capable fingers were teasing her clit, rubbing and flicking it as she rocked in the palm of his hand.
“Oh, god, Logan. Please, baby, please,” she cried out, her body frantically gliding up and down. His middle finger dipped into her wetness, twisting and flexing against her as his thumb continued stroking. Without further ado, she rose and maneuvered his cock between her legs. Her eyes opened wide and she stared into his as she began to lower herself slowly onto him, bringing him into her wet, shuddering center.
Spellbound as he watched his love fling her head back and begin to move languidly up and down, her heat seducing him, Logan could barely resist the urge to roll her over and slam into her; she was so enticing. Groaning, he began to work her clit harder, his fingers vibrating in pace with her rhythm as she rode him faster and deeper. As he thumbed her swollen clit, she keened, panting. Bracing her arms behind her, Veronica angled back, allowing his cock to hit the spot, the place that made her come undone. She let out an anguished wail and began to break, her tiny body heaving as she called out, begging him to finish her and come.
His throat clenched and spasms shook him until, unable to hold back, Logan bucked up into her: once, twice, and again, finally coming, hot and thick, inside her. He felt her tumble forward, catching herself to land next to him as he trembled and stilled.
“Oh, God, Logan,” she moaned. “I think I love you.”
“Then marry me.”
“Who said I wasn't?”