.august evenings bring solemn warnings.
Title: Sparks the Wildfire (part 4)
Author: Lexie (
suivreletoile)
Pairing/Character: Veronica, Logan, Lilly, Duncan (Veronica/Logan)
Word Count: 2,200
Rating: PG-13 for sex.
Spoilers: Season 1.
Warnings: There's sex.
Prologue Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
Summary: "Duncan was fluid and natural and Logan was danger. Duncan was recovery, and Logan was moving forward with my life."
I hadn’t seen any of them in close to a week. I’d decided I wasn’t going to call them or initiate contact in any way; my relationship with them was merely accidental and out of convenience.
And then Logan showed up at the café for an iced mocha and decided to stick around and convince me to go on a road trip with him.
He picked me up from my place that night. “So, north, south, or east?” He asked as I got into the car. “Which way you wanna go?”
I contemplated this for a moment, “Canada’s pretty close to Boston. Plus it’s on fire right now, so let’s head to Mexico.”
“Your wish is my command, señorita.”
He sped down the highway with some local California band blaring through the speakers, and the dry July air made it hard to breathe. My father called just as we were pulling into a convenience store for snacks. He’d found my note on the counter telling him I was going on a road trip.
“Don’t worry, really,” I insisted, hoping he wasn’t going to freak out.
He sighed, “You’re going on a road trip alone with the Echolls kid?”
“He’s my friend.” Logan eyed me as we got out of the car and I followed him into the store.
“I’d really been hoping we could spend some time together.”
“I’m sorry, I figured you’d be busy with work anyway. I’ll see you soon, ok Daddy?” I considered myself lucky he wasn’t insisting we turn around right away.
“How long is this trip going to be, anyway?”
“Not long, I have to work on Monday.” I filled a cup with blue Slushie. Logan continued to eye me as he searched through the chips.
“All right sweetie. You be safe.”
We hung up and I just shrugged at Logan.
“Everything ok?” He asked me as we approached the counter, his arms full of food.
“Yeah it’s fine. Just a protective dad is all,” I told him, taking a sip of my Slushie.
We got back into Logan’s car and arrived in Mexico after nightfall.
We stopped at the first decent motel we came across after we passed over the border and got a room. With two beds, of course.
“Beach tomorrow?” He asked as we each collapsed on one of the beds.
“Logan, you know there are other things to do in Mexico.”
“Yes, you’re right. In America we call them hookers.”
“Will you teach me to surf?” I asked, as we walked towards the beach the next afternoon. We’d slept in ‘til late, then went for quesadillas for brunch.
“How did you live in California for so long and never learn to surf?” He shook his head in disgrace.
“I know how to do what girls are expected to do, and that’s tan,” I countered.
It wasn’t until the first time he put his hand on my back to show me how to properly get onto the board that I realised that we had never really spent much time alone together before. I don’t know if he realised it then too, or if he suddenly felt awkward putting his hand on his ex-best friend’s ex-girlfriend. We both quickly got over it, and he soon started teasing my attempts at surfing.
“You know if I suck at this, it just means you’re a crappy teacher,” I pointed out.
“I’ll live with the shame.”
We went to dinner in a dark place with music blaring and people dancing and speaking loudly in Spanish. We ate, and then I got up and grabbed his hand, insisting he dance with me.
“Logan doesn’t dance,” he insisted as we approached the floor.
“I spent today surfing, you can do this!” I countered.
He was a better dancer than I imagined. Growing up so close to the Mexican border meant neither of us were strangers to Latin music. When we went to sit down again, he was almost out of breath.
“A little out of shape are we Echolls?”
“Hey I kept up with you, that’s all that matters. And it’s more than we can say about you surfing,” he said, pointing at me accusingly during the last part. As he pulled his hand back, he hit my beer and knocked it over. Its contents quickly spilt onto the table and down onto my lap and I groaned.
“Shit, I’m so sorry.”
“I have to go change. You’re paying the bill,” I told him, slowly getting up.
We went back to the motel room and I fell down onto my bed.
“You still have beer all over your pants, you know,” he reminded me. I just looked at him, and he approached my bed. “If you’re going to fall asleep like this, at least change out of your jeans.”
Continuing to look at him, I put my hands on the top of my pants, lightly touching the button.
“Veronica...” He slowly sat down next to me, hesitant.
“I may smell of booze, but I’m not drunk.”
“Yeah, that wasn’t really--” He stopped talking as I took his hand and laid it on my abdomen.
He relented.
His kisses on my skin were hot, and his hand trailing across my tummy as he pushed up my shirt made me crave more. I smelled like beer and his skin still carried the scent of the ocean. The combined scent of cheap beer and saltwater will always make me think of sex with Logan in a Mexican motel room. We stayed quiet at first, concentrated on our movements; our heavy breathing and my light moans were the only sounds in the room.
It was less heartfelt and more heated than being with Duncan. Duncan was love and Logan was sex. Duncan was fluid and natural and Logan was danger. Duncan was recovery, and Logan was moving forward with my life.
When I woke up, his head was on the pillow next to me and he was watching me. Seemingly not worried about morning breath, he leaned in and kissed me, our bodies radiating heat leftover from the night before and exacerbated by the sun pouring through the windows. Despite being hot and sticky, we had sex together for the second time. Rather than shower after, we went to the beach for a bit before getting food.
We swam at the beach for a bit with him often trying to coax me onto a surfboard.
“Come on, you were doing so well yesterday,” he pleaded, nudging me closer to the board.
“Yes, and that will suffice for my surfing experience.”
“You know you’re a disgrace to the Californian girl stereotype.”
“Well, I try.”
That night there was alcohol while sitting on the beach and laughing at dirty jokes. Our third time was uncomfortable in the back of his car, and our fourth was in his bed when we got back to the motel. Our fifth time was in his bed again before we checked out of the motel the next afternoon.
There was no discussion of “us” or what was going on. Nothing that happened would be long term; we were both leaving Neptune at the end of the summer.
---
“Four, in the far right pocket,” Logan announced, bending over to carefully position his pool stick with the white ball. Duncan stood on the other side of the table, watching intently.
Lilly and I sat at the bar, watching them.
“Fifty bucks says this leads to an arm wrestle.” Lilly commented, taking a sip of her beer.
“A hundred says it’s all out thumb war,” I grinned.
I examined the guys as they played. They both had their distinct mannerisms. Logan was fluid and relaxed, natural with his motions. Everything he held became a part of him, an extension of his body.
Duncan was more calculated and careful. His motions were defined and exact. He was refined, and had good posture.
Their personalities, the way they lived their lives, the way they loved, were just as distinctively different.
Logan missed his shot, so it was Duncan’s turn. He added chalk to the end of his cue, and studied the table intently. The look he had on his face told me he couldn’t possibly be thinking about only pool.
“So...” I looked at Lilly, cradling my beer in my hands. Her dark hair bobbed right underneath her chin. I suddenly wasn’t sure what I had been planning on saying, so I said the first thing that came to mind. “When did you start needing glasses?”
She blinked, almost as if she were confused. She self-consciously touched the black frames sitting on her face. “Since I was like, fifteen. But I used to wear lenses.”
I probably should have known that.
Lilly looked over at the guys, then back at me. “So, which one is better in the sack?” She asked slyly, gesturing at them.
My heart stopped a moment from the shock, and I quickly looked at the guys to see if they heard what she’d just said, but they couldn’t hear us, and were intensely engrossed in their game.
I looked back at her speechlessly.
“Oh come on, it’s totally obvious,” she smiled sweetly, but genuinely. Once again, she’d made a guess about my love life and had gotten it right.
I didn’t answer, and just took a gulp of my drink. She probably didn’t even want an answer, anyway. One of those guys was her brother, after all.
“I doubt they know, though,” she added, shaking her head. “They’re dense like that.” We were both watching them, and they were oblivious to our scrutiny. “Be careful, though. Two guys can be tricky.”
I almost choked on my drink. “Excuse me? You’re one to talk.”
She didn’t look hurt by my comment, just looked at me blankly and replied, “Well, I’ve learned my lesson.”
I thought about this for a moment and it occurred to me that while she seemed to know everything about my love life, I knew nothing about hers.
“So I take it you’re only with one guy now? One your own age, perhaps?”
The slight reference to her affair with Aaron Echolls made her shift in her seat. “Nobody, actually.”
I raised my eyebrows, “Well, congratulations.” She laughed, causing Duncan and Logan to look over in our direction. I waved my hand at them to tell them to just go back to their game. “Does this mean you’ve quit boys for good?”
Lilly rolled her eyes, “I am human, Veronica. A girl’s got needs.” The gentle look in her face and lack of urgency in her voice told me that while she’d eventually return to the world of dating, she wasn’t in a rush at the moment.
I didn’t get a chance to ask her what had caused this shift in paradigm. A sudden roar from Logan seemed to indicate he had missed a crucial shot, and Duncan grinned in triumph as he quickly continued on to win the game.
Logan threw down his stick at the end, “It’s getting late. I have to go home.”
“Me too,” I chimed in, getting up from my seat at the bar. I had a shift at seven the next morning.
“Oh, what, like you have a long day of playing Game Cube tomorrow, Logan? You’re such a sore loser,” Lilly teased.
Logan said nothing, but glanced at me through the corner of his eye. He evidently hadn’t told Lilly about how he was spending his time.
Logan and I said goodbye to Duncan and Lilly and walked out together.
“Why haven’t you told them about the publishing house, Logan?”
Logan shrugged, “Neither of them have asked.”
We stopped as we approached my car, “Can I ask you something?”
“You just did.” He was playing with his keys and not exactly looking at me.
“What happened between you and Duncan in high school?”
“I don’t really know,” he shrugged. “Just one of those things, I guess.” He finally looked at me. “What about you and Lilly?”
I wasn’t sure if he really wanted to know, or if he was just returning the question.
“The same; I don’t really know.” Of course that was a lie. But it would have been hard to explain the evolution that had become the supposed friendship between me and Lilly. It was one of those things that seemed to make less sense when spoken words. And above all I couldn’t tell him that Lilly’s affair with his father had been the initial cause of the tension between us because I wasn’t sure he even knew about it.
We stood there silently for a moment, looking at each other. Finally he leaned in, his lips pressing against mine. I closed my eyes, and reached my hand out to hold onto him. I clutched onto his shirt, and he put his hand on the side of my face, his fingers grasping the side of my neck.
As we pulled away gently, I heard him whisper goodbye into my ear, and when I finally opened my eyes, he’d already turned toward his car. I watched him get in and drive away.
The past was best kept there.
Author: Lexie (
suivreletoile)
Pairing/Character: Veronica, Logan, Lilly, Duncan (Veronica/Logan)
Word Count: 2,200
Rating: PG-13 for sex.
Spoilers: Season 1.
Warnings: There's sex.
Prologue Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
Summary: "Duncan was fluid and natural and Logan was danger. Duncan was recovery, and Logan was moving forward with my life."
I hadn’t seen any of them in close to a week. I’d decided I wasn’t going to call them or initiate contact in any way; my relationship with them was merely accidental and out of convenience.
And then Logan showed up at the café for an iced mocha and decided to stick around and convince me to go on a road trip with him.
He picked me up from my place that night. “So, north, south, or east?” He asked as I got into the car. “Which way you wanna go?”
I contemplated this for a moment, “Canada’s pretty close to Boston. Plus it’s on fire right now, so let’s head to Mexico.”
“Your wish is my command, señorita.”
He sped down the highway with some local California band blaring through the speakers, and the dry July air made it hard to breathe. My father called just as we were pulling into a convenience store for snacks. He’d found my note on the counter telling him I was going on a road trip.
“Don’t worry, really,” I insisted, hoping he wasn’t going to freak out.
He sighed, “You’re going on a road trip alone with the Echolls kid?”
“He’s my friend.” Logan eyed me as we got out of the car and I followed him into the store.
“I’d really been hoping we could spend some time together.”
“I’m sorry, I figured you’d be busy with work anyway. I’ll see you soon, ok Daddy?” I considered myself lucky he wasn’t insisting we turn around right away.
“How long is this trip going to be, anyway?”
“Not long, I have to work on Monday.” I filled a cup with blue Slushie. Logan continued to eye me as he searched through the chips.
“All right sweetie. You be safe.”
We hung up and I just shrugged at Logan.
“Everything ok?” He asked me as we approached the counter, his arms full of food.
“Yeah it’s fine. Just a protective dad is all,” I told him, taking a sip of my Slushie.
We got back into Logan’s car and arrived in Mexico after nightfall.
We stopped at the first decent motel we came across after we passed over the border and got a room. With two beds, of course.
“Beach tomorrow?” He asked as we each collapsed on one of the beds.
“Logan, you know there are other things to do in Mexico.”
“Yes, you’re right. In America we call them hookers.”
“Will you teach me to surf?” I asked, as we walked towards the beach the next afternoon. We’d slept in ‘til late, then went for quesadillas for brunch.
“How did you live in California for so long and never learn to surf?” He shook his head in disgrace.
“I know how to do what girls are expected to do, and that’s tan,” I countered.
It wasn’t until the first time he put his hand on my back to show me how to properly get onto the board that I realised that we had never really spent much time alone together before. I don’t know if he realised it then too, or if he suddenly felt awkward putting his hand on his ex-best friend’s ex-girlfriend. We both quickly got over it, and he soon started teasing my attempts at surfing.
“You know if I suck at this, it just means you’re a crappy teacher,” I pointed out.
“I’ll live with the shame.”
We went to dinner in a dark place with music blaring and people dancing and speaking loudly in Spanish. We ate, and then I got up and grabbed his hand, insisting he dance with me.
“Logan doesn’t dance,” he insisted as we approached the floor.
“I spent today surfing, you can do this!” I countered.
He was a better dancer than I imagined. Growing up so close to the Mexican border meant neither of us were strangers to Latin music. When we went to sit down again, he was almost out of breath.
“A little out of shape are we Echolls?”
“Hey I kept up with you, that’s all that matters. And it’s more than we can say about you surfing,” he said, pointing at me accusingly during the last part. As he pulled his hand back, he hit my beer and knocked it over. Its contents quickly spilt onto the table and down onto my lap and I groaned.
“Shit, I’m so sorry.”
“I have to go change. You’re paying the bill,” I told him, slowly getting up.
We went back to the motel room and I fell down onto my bed.
“You still have beer all over your pants, you know,” he reminded me. I just looked at him, and he approached my bed. “If you’re going to fall asleep like this, at least change out of your jeans.”
Continuing to look at him, I put my hands on the top of my pants, lightly touching the button.
“Veronica...” He slowly sat down next to me, hesitant.
“I may smell of booze, but I’m not drunk.”
“Yeah, that wasn’t really--” He stopped talking as I took his hand and laid it on my abdomen.
He relented.
His kisses on my skin were hot, and his hand trailing across my tummy as he pushed up my shirt made me crave more. I smelled like beer and his skin still carried the scent of the ocean. The combined scent of cheap beer and saltwater will always make me think of sex with Logan in a Mexican motel room. We stayed quiet at first, concentrated on our movements; our heavy breathing and my light moans were the only sounds in the room.
It was less heartfelt and more heated than being with Duncan. Duncan was love and Logan was sex. Duncan was fluid and natural and Logan was danger. Duncan was recovery, and Logan was moving forward with my life.
When I woke up, his head was on the pillow next to me and he was watching me. Seemingly not worried about morning breath, he leaned in and kissed me, our bodies radiating heat leftover from the night before and exacerbated by the sun pouring through the windows. Despite being hot and sticky, we had sex together for the second time. Rather than shower after, we went to the beach for a bit before getting food.
We swam at the beach for a bit with him often trying to coax me onto a surfboard.
“Come on, you were doing so well yesterday,” he pleaded, nudging me closer to the board.
“Yes, and that will suffice for my surfing experience.”
“You know you’re a disgrace to the Californian girl stereotype.”
“Well, I try.”
That night there was alcohol while sitting on the beach and laughing at dirty jokes. Our third time was uncomfortable in the back of his car, and our fourth was in his bed when we got back to the motel. Our fifth time was in his bed again before we checked out of the motel the next afternoon.
There was no discussion of “us” or what was going on. Nothing that happened would be long term; we were both leaving Neptune at the end of the summer.
---
“Four, in the far right pocket,” Logan announced, bending over to carefully position his pool stick with the white ball. Duncan stood on the other side of the table, watching intently.
Lilly and I sat at the bar, watching them.
“Fifty bucks says this leads to an arm wrestle.” Lilly commented, taking a sip of her beer.
“A hundred says it’s all out thumb war,” I grinned.
I examined the guys as they played. They both had their distinct mannerisms. Logan was fluid and relaxed, natural with his motions. Everything he held became a part of him, an extension of his body.
Duncan was more calculated and careful. His motions were defined and exact. He was refined, and had good posture.
Their personalities, the way they lived their lives, the way they loved, were just as distinctively different.
Logan missed his shot, so it was Duncan’s turn. He added chalk to the end of his cue, and studied the table intently. The look he had on his face told me he couldn’t possibly be thinking about only pool.
“So...” I looked at Lilly, cradling my beer in my hands. Her dark hair bobbed right underneath her chin. I suddenly wasn’t sure what I had been planning on saying, so I said the first thing that came to mind. “When did you start needing glasses?”
She blinked, almost as if she were confused. She self-consciously touched the black frames sitting on her face. “Since I was like, fifteen. But I used to wear lenses.”
I probably should have known that.
Lilly looked over at the guys, then back at me. “So, which one is better in the sack?” She asked slyly, gesturing at them.
My heart stopped a moment from the shock, and I quickly looked at the guys to see if they heard what she’d just said, but they couldn’t hear us, and were intensely engrossed in their game.
I looked back at her speechlessly.
“Oh come on, it’s totally obvious,” she smiled sweetly, but genuinely. Once again, she’d made a guess about my love life and had gotten it right.
I didn’t answer, and just took a gulp of my drink. She probably didn’t even want an answer, anyway. One of those guys was her brother, after all.
“I doubt they know, though,” she added, shaking her head. “They’re dense like that.” We were both watching them, and they were oblivious to our scrutiny. “Be careful, though. Two guys can be tricky.”
I almost choked on my drink. “Excuse me? You’re one to talk.”
She didn’t look hurt by my comment, just looked at me blankly and replied, “Well, I’ve learned my lesson.”
I thought about this for a moment and it occurred to me that while she seemed to know everything about my love life, I knew nothing about hers.
“So I take it you’re only with one guy now? One your own age, perhaps?”
The slight reference to her affair with Aaron Echolls made her shift in her seat. “Nobody, actually.”
I raised my eyebrows, “Well, congratulations.” She laughed, causing Duncan and Logan to look over in our direction. I waved my hand at them to tell them to just go back to their game. “Does this mean you’ve quit boys for good?”
Lilly rolled her eyes, “I am human, Veronica. A girl’s got needs.” The gentle look in her face and lack of urgency in her voice told me that while she’d eventually return to the world of dating, she wasn’t in a rush at the moment.
I didn’t get a chance to ask her what had caused this shift in paradigm. A sudden roar from Logan seemed to indicate he had missed a crucial shot, and Duncan grinned in triumph as he quickly continued on to win the game.
Logan threw down his stick at the end, “It’s getting late. I have to go home.”
“Me too,” I chimed in, getting up from my seat at the bar. I had a shift at seven the next morning.
“Oh, what, like you have a long day of playing Game Cube tomorrow, Logan? You’re such a sore loser,” Lilly teased.
Logan said nothing, but glanced at me through the corner of his eye. He evidently hadn’t told Lilly about how he was spending his time.
Logan and I said goodbye to Duncan and Lilly and walked out together.
“Why haven’t you told them about the publishing house, Logan?”
Logan shrugged, “Neither of them have asked.”
We stopped as we approached my car, “Can I ask you something?”
“You just did.” He was playing with his keys and not exactly looking at me.
“What happened between you and Duncan in high school?”
“I don’t really know,” he shrugged. “Just one of those things, I guess.” He finally looked at me. “What about you and Lilly?”
I wasn’t sure if he really wanted to know, or if he was just returning the question.
“The same; I don’t really know.” Of course that was a lie. But it would have been hard to explain the evolution that had become the supposed friendship between me and Lilly. It was one of those things that seemed to make less sense when spoken words. And above all I couldn’t tell him that Lilly’s affair with his father had been the initial cause of the tension between us because I wasn’t sure he even knew about it.
We stood there silently for a moment, looking at each other. Finally he leaned in, his lips pressing against mine. I closed my eyes, and reached my hand out to hold onto him. I clutched onto his shirt, and he put his hand on the side of my face, his fingers grasping the side of my neck.
As we pulled away gently, I heard him whisper goodbye into my ear, and when I finally opened my eyes, he’d already turned toward his car. I watched him get in and drive away.
The past was best kept there.