Outward Bound and Forward - Part One (NC-17) rindee (V/L)
Title: Outward Bound and Forward
Author: Rindee
Word Count: 12,242 (for both parts)
Rating: NC-17, for language, sex, and adult situations
Characters/Pairing: Veronica/Logan, and a special guest appearance by Keith Mars
Spoilers: through the end of Season 2.
Summary: AU future fic in which Veronica & Logan eschew a conventional vacation to address “trust” issues.
A/N: Written for the vm_library Anchors Away Smutathon challenge, beta’d by the extremely hot, crazy, and talented taken_with_you, who, in case you don’t know, is the librarian there, as well as thoroughly sexy and wanton rejeneration, even though she didn’t have the stamina to go the distance. Ha! Seriously, I couldn't have done it without either of them. I truly had no intention of writing this long of a fic, but Logan and Veronica have issues, y’all. Cross-posted to veronicamarsfic.
Chest heaving, she gulped deep breaths until her pulse and respirations slowed to a more regular rate. She flipped the visor and peered in the mirror, critically noting her red-rimmed, glassy eyes. Pulling on a pair of sunglasses, she got out quickly, locked up and crossed the street to the pool hall before she could lose her nerve. Standing beside the grimy, smoke smudged windows, she heard his victory caw before she spotted him, hip fixed against the rail, cue stick in hand, smugly admiring his winning shot. She didn’t want to be tailing her former? fiancè ... ex? boyfriend, but after the fight, he’d been so violently angry, so over-the-top outraged, he’d scared her. When he stormed out, she was afraid he’d harm himself, so she took off after him.
It started innocuously enough. When she got home from class, Logan was planning their summer vacation to the Grand Canyon. Their travel discussion degenerated into a squabble about money, specifically, Logan’s money and Veronica’s fervent desire not to spend it. The cash quarrel began an argument about trust; Logan accused Veronica of being unable to rely on him to plan their trip without micromanaging the details and independently verifying the arrangements; Veronica felt he was overreacting to her justifiable inquiries.
By the time things had come to a head, Logan was screaming at the top of his lungs and had drawn a line in the sand. If she didn’t trust him to tell her the truth about their vacation, how was she ever going to have enough faith to marry him? He’d stormed out of their condo and screeched through the parking garage in his Porsche, leaving thick black tread marks in his wake.
“Coming in, or are you just going to stand here and stare at him?”
Startled, she winched as though Keith had slapped her. “Dad? What are you doing here?”
Keith shrugged, his forehead wrinkling like a Basset Hound as he held the door for his perplexed daughter. “He called, asked me to find you. I told him I wouldn’t have to. Seems I was right.” The door closed behind them and Keith pulled her into a warm, benevolent hug, murmuring comfort in her ear before leading her to the billiard table where Logan was racking them up again.
He nodded up at Keith and Veronica as the cue slid through his supple fingers. Veronica flinched at the loud crack, the balls clicking and clacking as they scattered across the worn green felt. Two solids, the marigold and maroon, found their way into pockets as Logan leaned his stick against the wall and gestured to a small table in the corner. Keith nudged Veronica and the three sat, cautiously eyeing each other. Logan lifted his head toward the bar, and the bartender scurried over with a cup of coffee for Keith and two bottles of water. Twisting her hands in her lap, Veronica sighed heavily. Rising from his stool, Logan reached over and plucked the dark glasses from her face.
Before settling back onto his seat, he pulled a brochure from his back pocket and tossed it on the table in front of her. “This is it. My final offer.”
Stiffly, she glanced down, Keith craning his neck to read with her. “Outward Bound?” Disbelief dripped from her mouth. “You want me to go to Outward Bound?”
“I want us to go,” he earnestly implored. “We have to learn to work together, Veronica. You have to learn to trust me, and I have to learn not to overreact when you don’t. We’re going to take a vacation anyway, so why not? The Grand Canyon’s not going anywhere.”
Logan and Keith held their collective breath as she perused the pamphlet, her hand trembling as she turned the pages, studying the glossy photos of teenagers whitewater rafting, families backpacking through Joshua Tree, and couples kayaking through the Florida Everglades. Dipping her head, she began to read the course description, her slender fingers trailing over the pages.
Finally, she looked up, her shimmery eyes meeting his somber ones. “Which one?” she whispered. He breathed a sigh of relief, and judging by his expression, she knew he felt he’d won and at least had the right to return home to his own bed.
“This one.” He leaned over, his hand brushing hers aside as he flipped the pages. He tapped a photo of two women wearing headgear and life jackets, about to plunge a small vessel over a five foot drop into whitewater.
“The Appalachian Mountains Backpacking, Rock Climbing and Whitewater Canoeing one?” she asked, blinking in surprise. “Twenty-eight days? Four thousand dollars?” Veronica’s voice rose. “Are you sure we can do that?”
Logan simmered intensely. She realized he’d misunderstood, assuming she was again questioning financial arrangements. A tease of a smile illuminated her face as her fingers fluttered over his palm. “I know I’m in shape,” she offered slyly, “But you really think you can fit all your gear into a six thousand cubic foot pack and lug it through the Appalachians?” she finished, gently smirking.
Chuckling to himself, Keith shook his head and stared into his cup. “Veronica,” he chided.
Logan grinned at her challenge, smugly arcing an eyebrow. Tilting his lips to her ear, he whispered, “Anything you can do,” he pressed a soft kiss at the curve on top. “I can do better.” She beamed, her skin pinking.
Keith cleared his throat loudly. “Okay, kids. On that note, I think my work here is done.” Lost to their private reverie, they guiltily raised their eyes to Keith. “Thanks for the coffee, Logan. Veronica.” He pulled her into another embrace. “You’re going to be okay, kiddo. Work this out.” Awkwardly, he patted her shoulder. “You guys have been through too much to let this be the end of ....”
Veronica nodded vigorously, her chin rubbing on Keith’s scratchy shirt. “Thanks, dad,” she added, grateful for his help. Logan ambled over to pay the tab, giving Keith and Veronica a moment of privacy. Tucking his wallet into his back pocket, Logan returned, wrapping his arm around Veronica as Keith departed with a final wave.
“Ready to go?” he asked, pulling her against him.
She blinked up at him with ruby-rimmed eyes. “You’re coming home, right? With me?” Shuddering slightly, she curled into him, clutching his side with one hand and winding the other around his waist. “Good.”
“You didn’t think you were going to get rid of me that easily, did you?” he mumbled into her gossamer hair as they walked to the exit. Spying her SUV across the street, he asked, “That you, babe?”
“Yeah,” she replied drowsily.
“How ‘bout we come back for it tomorrow? I don’t want to leave the Porsche here overnight.” She nodded vaguely, letting him steer her in the opposite direction. Tucking her into the soft leather seat, Logan knelt and reached across to secure her seat belt as she watched with sleepy, hooded eyes. Her fingers fastened on his shirt collar; tugging softly, she maneuvered his face to hers, her lips brushing over his cheek before settling against his. Cupping his face in her hand, she kissed him slowly, her body quivering.
“Logan,” she breathed as she came up for air.
“Mmm. Yeah, babe?”
“Don’t leave like that again, okay?” Her crystalline blue eyes met his with laser-like intensity. “It scares me when you go off like that.”
Half-in and half-out, he cuddled her as best he could. “I’ll try not to, babe.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
Three weeks later:
“Are you sure we have everything, Logan?” Veronica asked as she zipped her pack and rose, still reading from her list.
“I am certain we have everything we’ll never need, Ver-on-i-ca.” He shook his head in amusement at the amount of stuff his girlfriend had shoved into her oversized backpack. “You’re not going to be able to carry it as it is.”
“Hey!” she pulled herself up to her full height and exaggeratedly squared her shoulders. “Are you saying I’m not tough enough?” Logan guffawed, stepping into a martial arts stance, calling her bluff.
“I am not impugning your ‘manhood’, but if you feel you have something to prove, let’s go.” Grinning broadly, he beckoned with one hand. “C’mon, baby.”
Veronica glanced at her new, all-weather, waterproof to 200 feet, expedition watch. “I’ve got just enough time to kick your ass before we leave for the airport. Are you sure you want to try me?” Her eyes roamed deliberately up and down Logan’s toned, tanned body, from the tips of his rubber-capped kicks up his lean, denim-clad legs, to his abs, covered by a dark green, long-sleeved tee, and his rock-hard biceps, swathed in fuzzy flannel. When she reached his face, she stared hungrily into his glittering eyes and smiled smugly.
She stepped into his reach and dropped her voice. “Your shoes offer no protection against my boots, your jeans are too tight to let you move easily, and the rolled-up cuffs of your shirt will hamper your ability to throw an effective punch, but if you wanna go,” she ran her fingers from his navel to his breastbone. “I’m your girl.” Curling her fingers, she flattened her palm against his chest and stiffened her arm, her other hand pulling back.
Before she was fully in fighting stance, Logan clapped his fingers around her wrist and quickly swung her arm up and wide, causing her to spin as he pulled her into his body, her back to his chest, his arm across her windpipe. Brushing his lips against her ear, he murmured, “Now what are you going to do, my pretty one?”
Anticipating her next move, he shuffled his feet backward to avoid the heel of her thick-soled boot. As she brought her foot down, he shoved his knee into the back of hers, causing her to tumble. As she pitched forward, he let his body fall on top of hers, pinning her to the floor beneath him.
“Logan,” she huffed, squirming. “Let me up.”
Instead of responding, he ground his pelvis into her ass. She gasped, feeling his erection throbbing against the cradle of her thighs as his fingers crept under her shirt and crawled up her ribcage. “Be still,” he commanded. “Unless you want this to be over too quickly for you to enjoy it.”
Suddenly still, Veronica panted as Logan’s hands found their target and he began to rub her peaked nipples. She arched up, exposing her soft, white neck to his roving lips. Sucking greedily, he continued to stroke her breasts until she moaned low and sharp.
“Logan....”
“Turn over, baby,” he instructed, spreading his knees to allow her to pivot. She rolled over, but before she could wriggle out from under him, he pressed his body over hers, sealing her lips with his and casually immobilizing her wrists in one hand. Struggling wildly against his greater weight and strength, she bucked under him, gasping as he popped the button on her jeans and began to unzip them.
“Still think you can take me, dontcha?” he taunted, his hot mouth scorching her skin.
“You’re never ... going to be able ... to hold me down ... long enough ... to make me,” she gasped, clawing at his fingers.
“Don’t,” he kissed her stomach. “Make me,” he licked up her chest. “Get the handcuffs,” he finished, nipping through her bra and sucking hard on her nipple.
“Supposed ... to be ... a surprise,” she huffed, rocking her knee into his ass.
“Okay, that’s it. Where are they?” he demanded, hauling Veronica to her feet, her hands still clenched in his.
She smirked wickedly until he shoved her against the wall and began sliding his fingers over the seam of denim running between her thighs. The pressure and friction against her clit caused her eyes to roll back in her head, and she began to shake. Even through the thick material, he could feel her dampness, smell her arousal.
“Tell me now, woman, or I won’t be responsible for what happens next.” He leaned one hip against hers, stretching her arms high over her head until her body thrummed. Pulling his hand from out below, he roughly thumbed one nipple, and then the other, his tongue and teeth tracing a fiery trail from the base of her throat up underneath her chin, across her cheekbone to the spot just below her ear. He bit hard, his tongue massaging the hurt as he continued to suck and bite her neck.
Her legs buckled and she would have fallen if not for his hand suspending her on the wall. “In my backpack,” she heaved. “The side pocket.” Walking backward, he tugged her toward the luggage at the foot of their bed. “But,” she protested. “The surprise....”
“We’re going to be sleeping in a tent for the next twenty-eight days, Veronica. I think you’ll have ample opportunity to surprise me sometime during the next four weeks, don’t you?” Leaning back, he blindly fished around until his hand encountered hard, cold metal. Curling his fingers around the cuffs, he triumphantly pulled them from the satchel, dangling them from his middle finger.
He gazed at his girlfriend as she panted and quivered, hair mussed, face scarlet and damp, her beautiful azure eyes glazed and brilliant. “Trust me?” he murmured, letting the brittle steel drip over her clavicle and into the vale between her breasts. She shuddered, licking her lips in anticipation.
“That’s why we’re going, isn’t it? To learn to trust each other?”
“Do ... you ... trust ... me?” he prodded, staring intently into her eyes, seeking permission.
“If I didn’t trust you in the sanctity of our bedroom, I wouldn’t be bringing handcuffs on our trip, would I?” she retorted defiantly. Turned on by her feisty display, he watched for a moment more, the outline of her nipples clear and inviting as her breasts strained against her tee, her lips swollen and crimson.
Apparently deciding her lack of protest was sufficient answer, he transferred the cuffs to his other hand, grabbed the edge of her tee and tugged, carefully sliding it up one arm, then the other, returning both wrists to his grasp before pulling the shirt over her head and off. He unhooked her lacy, light green bra and dropped it at his feet.
Before she had time to process, he snapped a bracelet over one wrist and pulled her toward the master bath. Once inside, her head whipped around frantically, trying to determine what he was after. Stepping behind her, he slipped his arm around her waist and lifted her into the glass-and-marble-walled shower, threading the cuff chain over the heavy towel bar set in the stone wall. He clicked the other cuff onto her arm, moving back to admire his handiwork before taking off his shirt, tee, and tennies.
“Logan,” she whined. “Let me go. Please. Not here.”
He smiled and reached past her, sweeping his palm across the cold, flat marble before drifting his knuckles dangerously up the cool, smooth skin of her bare back. “It’s fine, baby.” His eyes narrowed as she continued to struggle against her bonds. “I thought I told you to stay still,” he muttered, inclining his head to nuzzle her bare flesh, his tongue lavishly circling her areola as his hands spanned her ribcage.
“Please, baby,” she whimpered, shivering under his mouth. “Please let me loose.” He looked up, his impenetrable eyes hard and dark and shiny as she beseeched him, her arms continuing to jerk against the caustic metal. He waited for her gaze to meet his; one look and she recognized the fevered gleam of excitement, knew he was not going to relent. She began to panic, leveraging all of her slight weight against the restraints, thrashing and breathing heavily.
“I told you to stop wiggling. You’re at my mercy now,” he asserted quietly, his voice all ice and determination. “Since you seem to be unable to follow my directions, I’m going to have to make you behave.” Reaching over head, he circled his thumb and index finger over one silver cuff and clicked it a notch tighter, his other hand expertly pinching her nipple at the same time, making her vibrate like a bowstring. He sucked in a shuddering breath as Veronica hitched and hissed; she could feel his cock jerk as he leaned over to compress the other cuff. Shoving her back against the slick, chilled wall, his fingers affixed to her hips, he licked and suckled each of her breasts with deliberate attention until she trembled in his hands, the sound of her passionate moans and his labored breath reverberating loudly in the small enclosure.
“You’re mine, Veronica,” Logan murmured possessively, flattening his hand on her throat before tracing his palm over her breastbone and down to the zipper on her pants. Still shaking, her eyes snapped open in surprise as his icy fingers rimmed the waist of her jeans. As he dropped to his knees to untie and remove her hiking boots and thick socks, she caught a glimpse of her flushed face in the mirrored shower panel behind his shoulder. Cringing, she tried to hide from her reflection, ineffectually craning her neck and trying to tuck her chin into her shoulder. Scooting between her knees, he ripped open her jeans, peeling them down her quaking legs, his supple fingers caressing her taut, sinuous thighs.
Realizing she was trying to avoid watching him, he rose from his haunches, chuckling, and trapped her jaw in his hand. “No, Veronica,” he corrected, forcing her to look at him. “You’re going to watch me get you off.” Staring into his lust-filled, thundercloud eyes, suddenly, she understood his intense arousal directly correlated to his power over her and her continued resistance. Shivering briefly, she struggled to bring her body under control, lifting her eyes to the reflecting wall, fighting the impulse to close her eyes.
Sitting sideways at her feet, he pressed his shoulder into her thigh, forcing her to spread wide. He ran his hand up the back of her calves, kneading and stretching her muscles, angling his head here and there to bite and suck at her silky skin. Each nip was greeted with a harsh groan as Veronica twitched impotently, unable to escape his sensual torture and the twin torment of her image captured in polished silver. As he worked his way upward, he roughly hiked one knee onto his shoulder, exposing her sweetly slick pink pussy.
“Oh, God, Veronica. You're so fucking beautiful like this I want you to watch,” he commanded, spreading her with experienced fingers, gliding slowly through her wetness, exploring, probing, testing, toying with her. Although he knew her body as well as his own, there were still things he hadn’t done to her yet. Gulping for air, she swallowed thickly, tension swirling her stomach into knots. With a quick purse of his lips, he blew across her wet clit. Her reaction was instantaneous; shuddering, her back bowed and her hips lurched erratically.
Hypnotized by her paroxysms, he slowly worked his middle finger inside her, drawing lissome circles around her clit. Shuddering, she asked him to free her. Her anxiety was his aphrodisiac, roughly shaking his head, he maneuvered a second finger into her tight pussy.
“Oh, fuck,” Veronica cursed loudly, watching with sick fascination as she rutted in his hand, his fingers driving into her as she jerked and pumped.
Barely able to restrain himself, Logan glanced up to see her eyes flutter helplessly, her hands clutching the bar as she swayed. Entranced and excited beyond sanity by the exquisite picture of his helpless lover, Logan squeezed her ass in his strong hands, bumping his nose into her soft curls, his long fingers lightly brushing over her puckered skin. “I know what you want,” he taunted. “Tell me. Tell me you want to come, baby.”
“Oh, God, Lo ... Logan,” she pleaded, flinging her head back, beyond caring when it banged against the wall. “Please.... Please let me.... I - I can’t.... I can’t breathe.... I can’t do this.”
“Yes, you can,” he insisted, his lips barely brushing her clit as he ignored her entreaties. “Do it for me,” he persisted. “All you have to do ... is ask me to ... finish you,” he ground out, all movement ceasing as he tilted back, waiting patiently. Blinking rapidly, she tried to focus, her hands curled over the bar as she squirmed. A riot of emotions played over her face; yearning, shame, anger, fear. “Trust me?” he whispered, the deep rumbling of his voice across her stomach buckling her legs and nearly bringing her to climax.
“Yes,” she confessed in a hushed tone.
“You can tell me what you want,” he gently coaxed. “Just say it, baby. Tell me.” Anxiously, he held his breath. Gazing into his pleading eyes, she could see his passion and love as he asked her to take a leap of faith.
“Logan,” she rasped. “Please ...” her voice dropped an octave. “Make me ... help me ... let me come, baby. Please.”
He expelled all of his air in a shuddering sigh, his dark eyes softening as he bent to her. Skirting his tongue across the outer edges of her pussy, Veronica trembled more violently as Logan licked and sucked her hard, dripping clit.
Thrashing and writhing against his ravenous mouth, she keened, begging and pleading unintelligibly as his long fingers twisted into her again and again, curving to stroke the spot and drive her insane. As she started to come apart, he thrust more deeply, fucking her with his tongue and hands, his thumb mercilessly strumming her clit as he held tight and brought her to climax, her body wracked by uncontrollable tremors as she screamed, “Oh, fuck, Logan. Oh, God. Oh, fucking hell. Lo - gan!”
Rising, he pressed his head to her belly, whispering soothing endearments into her flushed skin as he gentled her back to consciousness. “Oh my God,” she moaned, a slow, warm smile spreading over her face as she looked down at him. Eyes sparking, he slithered up her body until his face aligned with hers.
“Veronica? Baby?”
“Mmm, what?” she sighed, curling into him as best she could.
Slanting his mouth over hers, he pushed his tongue inside, letting it dance over hers, popping the snap, he jerked at his jeans, leaving them crumpled at his ankles. Released, his stiff prick bumped between them; Veronica could feel it, warm and moist, pulsing against her stomach. Wrapping his fist around himself, he slid his hand up and down its length once or twice before cupping and gently tugging his balls.
Veronica’s eyes grew wide as Logan caressed the backs of her thighs before hefting her up and pressing her to him, her legs coiling around his waist as he massaged her perfectly curved ass.
“Say it,” he demanded hoarsely, the wet tip of his cock nudging her opening.
She snugged closer, until her lips brushing his ear. “Oh, baby. Fuck me, please.”
With a drawn-out groan, he plunged into her, burying his dick deep inside. Locking her knees, Veronica flexed and rolled her hips, taking him even further. Pinioned and unable to move her arms, she pressed her face into his sinewy neck, gasping and biting as he pulled away drove into her repeatedly. The third time he entered her, his fingers slicked through her velvety wetness and slid up behind, fingering her ass. Squeezing his girth, her thighs clenched around his hips, she screamed huskily and sank her teeth into his shoulder as he shoved one finger half-way into her ass. Her enraptured undoing was his too; bucking wildly he slammed into her, pumping thick, hot, cum as he cried out, “Oh, God, oh Babe. Fuck, Veronica, I love you.”
Limbs tangled, dripping with sweat, they clung together, panting for breath and mumbling soft words of love. Suddenly realizing Veronica was still shackled, Logan cautiously reached one hand to his jeans, fumbling for the key to unlock her. Sweeping her into his arms, he stepped out into the bathroom and slumped to the floor. Enclosing her in a protective thicket of hands, arms and knees, he kissed her shoulders, neck, and forehead, rocking her slowly against his chest.
He felt her tremble underneath his lips, and cuddled her to his chest, soothing her body with tiny touches and easy caresses. She flexed her fingers and wrists, slowly stretching her arms before draping them around his neck. Pulling her face level, she touched her forehead to his and stared intently into his dazed, glistening eyes.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
Veronica never appreciated Logan’s net worth as much as she did when they arrived much later than expected at the airport; it was nothing short of miraculous how their first-class reservations, which she hadn’t wanted but which he had insisted upon, took them to the front of every line, including airport security. She struggled to keep the shit-eating grin off her face when they boarded before everyone else, slunk sheepishly into their seats, asked for blankets and pillows, and she was finally able to slide safely into Logan’s waiting arms. She was sure her face was still crimson as she relaxed, skin tingling, as she drifted off, securely swathed in Logan’s embrace as he randomly whispered wanton thoughts in her ear. Lulled by the ba dum ba dum of his steady heart beat, she slept.
In dreams, as they flew cross-country at 30,000 feet, Veronica reflected on their journey’s implications. On the verge of their junior year at Hearst, Veronica was almost certain law school would be her future. After two years of college Logan had no idea what he wanted to do with his life, but, like Lloyd Dobler, he knew Veronica was supposed to be in it. She was willing to admit she preferred life with Logan Echolls to life without him, but couldn’t commit to a permanent arrangement, believing, as she did, that they would eventually crash and burn. With proximity, their quarrels had become less cute and more vitriolic; she knew it was time to decide whether she was willing to go for it, or whether she’d have to set him free. In her carefully hidden heart of hearts, she believed she wouldn’t have survived past traumas without him; more importantly, now, she knew she didn’t want to. The question was - could she make it work?
Locked in Logan’s sustaining arms, she twisted restlessly, assaulted by the specters of her past, rising unbidden to haunt her. The first was Lilly - funny how, even after death, she came first - Lilly probably had loved Logan, but she’d never seemed to need him, or anyone else. Veronica knew what Lilly would say about them: “He’s weak, Veronica, you need a real man....” She was sure Logan was a real man, but she wasn’t sure whether he was her man.
Although Logan wasn’t weak, Duncan was - weak and unable to cope with life’s travails. Duncan couldn’t deal, so he’d escaped; first into mental illness, then by fleeing the country, conveniently avenging Lilly’s death by proxy. As far as she could tell, Duncan never actually considered the possibility of her and Logan, so it was difficult to know what his current response would be, but, in her mind, Duncan ultimately belonged to sweet Meg, whom Veronica had hardly had the chance to know. When she was alive, Meg approved of anything that kept Veronica away from Duncan, but Veronica hadn’t needed her approval then, and didn’t need it now.
Lynn, who’d lived fast and loved unwisely, had ended her life after becoming trapped in a cold sterile marriage. She’d left the world without any apparent regard for her only child, so it was difficult to know how Lynn would have felt about her relationship with Logan. Veronica was certain Lynn would have loved the man he’d become, though, and would have appreciated Veronica’s love for him, too.
Unlike Duncan, when Lianne left, she hadn’t bothered to kiss Veronica goodbye or tell her she loved her. Of course, Lianne hadn’t had to leave, but she did it anyway, taking Veronica’s future with her. The Lianne who had been Veronica’s mother for sixteen years would have said, “He’s not right for you, Veronica, you can do better....” But, for what it was worth, the Lianne who’d had an adulterous affair with Jake Kane, and hid it for all those years, that Lianne probably would have thought Logan was an okay guy.
And that left Logan, the boy who’d angrily lashed out at her, blaming her for Lilly’s death and tormenting her with undeniable viciousness. He’d changed, for the better, and was now a man, a man who deserved ... so many things. He deserved a woman who loved him for who he’d become, for who he was going to become ... someone who would be ... a partner, and an equal. Someone who needed him, loved him, respected him. Veronica loved and respected him, but up until now, she’d taken great pains not to need him. Need was a dangerous thing, it led to dependency; nearly everyone she’d ever depended upon had screwed up, fucked her over and left her to fend for herself. She just didn’t know if she could allow herself to trust anyone, especially Logan, ever again.
Could she put away her past, her anger, her brittle defenses and suspicious nature? Could she relinquish her ghosts, and the resentments that went with them? And, if she did, if she managed to open up a vein and let go, would she still be Veronica?
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
On their first morning, Veronica woke to find Logan looming over her, his icy cold hands having been shoved under her back for warmth and amusement as he waited for her startled shriek. The night before, after they’d staggered down the gangway, giggling and blushing, Veronica had headed outside to locate the Outward Bound faithful while Logan had gone to hunt their luggage. He’d found their packs, then found Veronica chatting with an unremarkable group comprised of couples and families. As he’d studied their fellow travelers, Logan realized he and Veronica were the youngest by several years, and wondered if it would impact their ability to “enjoy” their vacation.
They’d gotten to the base camp at about six, and quickly pitched their tent; they’d surprised themselves with their teamwork and efficiency. They’d volunteered for firewood duty, combing the area for dead wood in the deepening shadows as the sun disappeared over the mountain rise. Mindful of Outward Bound’s Leave No Trace philosophy, they’d taken special care to collect only the logs and timber that were already on the ground. The evening meal had been simple, chicken seasoned with garlic and thyme, and fresh vegetables, all wrapped in foil and cooked over a grate perched atop the fire. Desert was hot chocolate or coffee and s’mores. Ravenous as always, Veronica ate her chicken, part of Logan’s, and more s’mores than he’d thought humanly possible. While they were eating, the entire group had introduced themselves, exchanging personal information, backgrounds, a brief summary of their prior wilderness experience and reasons for coming to Outward Bound.
When it was Logan’s turn, he’d been uncharacteristically taciturn, mumblingly introducing himself and Veronica but omitting both their surnames. His smile reappeared when he announced the trip was their pre-honeymoon honeymoon gift to Veronica; he winked lasciviously as he’d tumbled back to their blanket. Rosy from the fire and blushing from Logan’s glowing words, Veronica also avoided any mention of the Mars and/or Echolls names; instead, she focused on their goal of being better partners. It was the most honest she’d ever been in front of a group of strangers.
Most of the campers had tucked in early, bidding the two of them goodnight before ten o’clock. Too excited to sleep, they’d stayed awake, watching the glow of the slowly dying embers and tracking the stars as they moved across an endless, three-dimensional sky so clear it seemed the constellations were having a cocktail party. Lolling back between Logan’s outstretched legs, Veronica relaxed in a way she hadn’t in a long time, one hand burrowed inside his sleeve, the other resting on her stomach, securely covered by his larger, warmer one. Every now and again, she surreptitiously tilted her head to watch him, her heart smiling as her eyes traced his profile. “Logan,” she murmured.
“Yeah, Babe.”
“It’s so beautiful. I’m glad we came.”
Cuddling her closer, he brushed kisses through her flaxen hair as she nestled into his chest. “Me too, Babe. Me too.”
Although it was late spring and, during the daytime, quite warm, evenings in the mountains of North Carolina were chilly, the mornings bright but brisk. They woke at the crack of dawn, their alarm clock the caws and coos of birds they’d never before heard, and a riot of clicks, pops and squeaks from crickets, cicadas, and grasshoppers.
By nine, the lustrous sun was well into the brilliant cerulean sky, and the temperature had risen to the mid-60s. Cleaning up the refuse from breakfast, they listened to the director’s quick lecture on environmental consciousness: no souvenirs, that is, take home nothing other than what you came with; leave nothing behind, i.e., remove everything you carried in; extinguished fires must be both wet and buried; respect wildlife and be considerate of others....
Although they would be returning to the same camp later, they spent the morning packing everything into their backpacks in preparation for their first real hike. Tightly rolling her bedding, Veronica cinched it to her pack and tried to heft it onto her shoulders. From his knees, Logan glanced up in time to see her lurch and nearly keel over backward from the weight. Aware she wasn’t going to ask for help, he grinned affectionately and gracefully rose to his feet, steadying her with a hand on her back until she got her balance.
“You okay?”
“Yeah. I think so,” she huffed gratefully, taking a few tentative steps to get her bearings.
“Next time, it’ll be easier if you prop it up and step into it,” he replied cautiously. “Or, I could hold it for you.”
“That would be good,” she nodded. “Especially if we’re anywhere near the edge of something - ”
“Okay, everyone, on me,” the director hollered, interrupting Veronica. “We’re going to be hiking about five miles. I know it doesn’t sound like a lot, but most of it’s uphill and, believe me, you’re going to feel it by the time we get there....”
“And we’re really gonna feel it on the way back,” Logan muttered in her ear.
Surprising themselves and the others, Veronica and Logan had no difficulty on the trail, leading most of the way. When they reached the designated half-way point, she flung her pack at Logan’s feet and advised him she was going into the woods to relieve herself.
“Need any help there, Smokey?” he drawled lazily, his meaning clear.
“Thanks, but I think I can manage on my own.”
“Just be on the lookout for any red-stemmed, three-leaf vines,” he added as she was about to step off the path. “Or any bright red leaves in clusters of three.”
Shocked, Veronica spun and shot him a quizzical look.
“Poison ivy, dear. Wouldn’t want your bottom to get all red and itchy,” he smirked, lifting his water bottle and chuckling as she cautiously tromped into the brush.
“How ‘bout you let me worry about my ‘bottom’ and you keep an eye out for snakes...or bears...or ticks and spiders, okay?” she volleyed back, laughing as she continued into the woods.
Returning unscathed a few minutes later, Veronica found Logan gracefully reclining on a rock at the edge of the trail. He was leaning against his pack, head back, eyes closed, unconcerned about the who-knows-how-many foot drop-off just beyond his outstretched legs. God, he’s beautiful. He seems so free, out here in the middle of nowhere, like he’s not afraid of anything. Absently, she wondered if he heard the same voices she did, saw the ghostly bodies standing between them, felt the pull of the past. It certainly didn’t seem like it.
“Hey, Handsome,” she called in a low, suggestive voice. His eyes fluttered, a quirk of a grin teasing across his lips. “You want some candy?”
Without opening his eyes, he opened his arms. “C’mere, woman.”
She settled comfortably next to him, putting her hand in his, nudging him with her thigh. “God. It’s just so incredibly spectacular. I think I don’t want to go home.”
“Fine with me. We can stay. You’re all I really need anyway.” When she didn’t reply, he sat up abruptly, watching as she breathed in the glorious view. He put his hands solidly on her neck, kneading her neck and shoulders. “What’s wrong, baby?”
She sighed once, heavily, then bravely squared her shoulders. “Nothing. Race you to the top?”
He quirked an eyebrow. “I know you don’t think you can beat me, so what’s up? What are you thinking about?” he asked, eyeing her speculatively.
She uttered another heavy breath. “Nothing. ... It’s nothing. ... I just keep thinking about....”
“You’re thinking about ... ravishing me at the top of the mountain?” he gibed. When she didn’t laugh, he continued, “No? Okay, ‘fess up, Veronica. What’s eating you now?” he inquired with a frown.
She smiled softly and squeezed his hand. “It’s not you. I just keep thinking about Lilly. I can’t imagine you two doing anything like this.”
He tugged at her hand, gently diminishing the space between them. When her head nestled on the flat of his chest, he exhaled gratefully. “I’m not that guy anymore. And you know you’ve never been a substitute for her. I don’t know what would have happened if she hadn’t died, but I’d like to think I would have outgrown her and become the ... person I am today, with you.”
“You mean the man you are today, Logan,” she corrected meaningfully.
Veronica tried to imagine Lilly and Logan at twenty-one, but found she couldn’t. In some ways, Lilly was a child, even at seventeen. Willful, selfish, and hedonistic far beyond the average teenager, Lilly wouldn’t have liked the earnest, sober, thoughtful man Logan had become. She didn’t appreciate him, or his love for her, when she had them. If Lilly had ever really loved Logan, she wouldn’t have put herself in the position to be killed. Not that it was Lilly’s fault - Aaron was a murderous bastard - but if Lilly hadn’t been fucking him, she’d be alive today. Maybe it had all come too easily to Lilly, Veronica mused, or maybe it was because both she and Logan had gone through so much together. Either way, Veronica liked the person Logan had become, even though she’d fallen in love with him long before he’d grown up.
“Yeah. About the man thing....” he teased, shamelessly brushing his thumb across the back of her neck. She tilted her face up and stretched to reach his lips, her hand cupping his cheek.
“Later,” she whispered, kissing him modestly. “We have to finish the hike first.”
Part Two