Ficlets: I Have Found the Paradox, Logan/Veronica, PG-13 (Free-for-all Challenge)
Title: I Have Found the Paradox
Author: annie_oakley
Rating: PG-13, overall
Spoilers: Everything, just to be safe
Summary: A collection of ficlets inspired by several Logan/Veronica prompts from onceuponapillow for the free-for-all challenge at vmfic_gameon.
Author's Note: The title is from a quote by Mother Theresa. And dreamer_marie, I'm doing this to try and break out of a writing slump I'm in right now. I'm hoping to have your fic finished soon!
Prompt: Logan/Veronica, An innocent Logan is convicted for Felix's murder
Summary: Uh, see prompt? And note- I barely remember the details of the whole Felix fiasco, and I'm also not 100% on the whole California court process, either. But then again neither was Rob Thomas, so there's that.
She knew that he thought she didn't care, but that wasn't the case. She did care. She didn't want to care, but she still did.
Maybe a part of her believed nothing would ever come of it, that maybe just once things would work themselves out and she wouldn't have to nearly kill herself to make it right.
She should have known the world doesn't work like that.
Hannah's father refused to retract his statement, and then Hannah was off to a boarding school and Logan was really left with nothing.
The trial was short and bitter, and they were only moments away from hearing the verdict. No one in the room was expecting a surprise. If Tom Griffith's testimony of that night on the bridge wasn't a clincher, then his teary confession of how Logan had tried to seduce his only daughter as a way to force him to recant certainly did the trick.
The foreman stood, ready to speak the words that would seal Logan's fate, and Veronica thought back to the night before when Logan came to her. Gone was all traces of a pompous jackass, which was always his mask of choice. Instead she was left with a terrified little boy who broke her heart when he tearfully promised her, "I'm not like my father." He was barely eighteen and they both knew he would be going to prison for a crime he didn't commit.
As he was being led away, Veronica called out to him, "Logan, I'll fix this." It killed her to see such emptiness when he looked up at her.
He might have thought she didn't care, that he didn't have anyone in his corner, but she would prove him wrong and she would make this right. She knew the world wasn't fair or just, but that was all the more reason to keep fighting.
And she would.
Prompt: Logan/Veronica, "Love me when I least deserve it, because that's when I really need it." --Swedish Proverb
Summary: A redo of the breakup scene in 3.12
"Really? Imagine if you tried."
Veronica backs away from him and heads toward the door. She is going to leave and he is going to let her, but then he hears himself begging her, "What do you want me to do? What can I do?"
She doesn't know what compels her to stop, what makes her turn around and face him again. She doesn't want him to see her cry and she is dangerously close to doing that now.
It hurts so bad it feels like she can't breathe. The only thing she can do now is let him know explicitly that this is something she can't get over, that this is it for her.
Maybe that's what really hurt the most.
She turns around one final time. "Make it not true? Get it out of my head and never let me think about it again? 'Cause...unless you can do that, this is something I'm never getting past."
She can still see that image of Madison writhing on top of him, and that gives her the strength she needs to walk away.
"I wish I could."
It's not his words that get her, because God only knows how little words mean to her. It's the sound of his voice, so strangled, so sad and so totally hopeless.
If only she could hate him, really hate him, this would be so much easier.
"I wish I could make it not true. I can't, but I wish it." She hasn't run off yet, so he continues, even as he wonders if this is more for his benefit now than hers.
"Uh, I was really depressed and I ended up getting pretty trashed." He runs his hand through his hair, hating the way this sounds more like an excuse than the horrible truth. "It was...it was the holidays and I was lonely so I got drunk. I don't really remember anything."
She can't turn around. She can't actually see the tears she can already hear. "That doesn't make it okay!"
"I know," he says simply, for once not putting up a fight. Then she can hear him laughing caustically, and at least that's a Logan she knows. "I really wanted tonight to be perfect for you. Guess that's not going to happen." A pause. "I'm sorry."
She wipes at her eyes and makes to leave, but his voice stops her, again. "Is this...is this really something you're never going to get past?"
"I don't know," she admits.
"We've gotten over so much more, Veronica." It's not a plea, just a statement of fact, not even tinged with the slightest bit of hope.
"I need some time," she tells him. He might think it's a brush off, but it's not. Maybe it'll hurt a little less tomorrow, or the next day, or the day after that, and maybe she'll keep hearing his words instead of seeing him with Madison, and then she'll know they'll be all right.
"Okay."
"I'll call you," she offers before leaving, and at least that's something.
She doesn't need to hate him to make things easier. She just needs to not love him. But even as upset as she still is, she knows that's not really an option.
Prompt: Logan/Veronica, "Sex alleviates tension. Love causes it." -Woody Allen
Summary: L/V- Two fights that ended with sex and one that didn't.
Saturday, June 9th, 2007
He hadn't spoken to her since the day he walked out of the cafeteria, doing his damndest to not look back. That was more than three weeks ago. More than three weeks without so much as a phone call or an email or even a candygram. No checking in out of concern or curiosity, no sense of gratitude or even acknowledgement, and definitely no gummy worms.
Nope, nothing.
But she was here now, standing at his hotel room door, her face blank, which might have been a first. Or maybe his concussion momentarily disrupted his ability to read her so she only appeared blank. Frankly he had no idea what the hell she could be thinking, or why she was there.
"You're an idiot."
Oh.
She brushed past him and entered his suite, and he let her. But he had two black eyes and one broken hand and more bruises than he could count, so it was only understandable if he was a little slow on the uptake.
Then there were a lot of words, all strung together neatly and for maximum effect, and each one hitting him harder than either of Gory's fists. What were you thinking? and This has got to stop and I can't do this anymore!
So this is really it, he thought. Everything before was only delaying the inevitable. Veronica didn't want anything to do with him now and he was really going to be out of her life. Forever.
She continued to yell at him but he could barely hear her. He felt sick and dizzy and so damn tired, and he was pretty sure none of it had anything to do with his physical injuries.
But then she was crying, too. Crying and yelling, her voice straining as hot angry tears trailed down her cheeks. He watched her carefully, terrified to make a move even though he was desperate to, and so confused he didn't know what to make of any of it.
"I thought you died," she finally admitted.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, and for all of the times he had said that to her, he had never meant it more. He never saw her look this way before and he never wanted to see her look this way again.
She looked up at him then; her eyes were still wet, but they were sharp and focused. Then her lips were on his, her hands underneath his shirt, gently trailing over the splotches of purple and green and yellow that covered almost his entire body.
He closed his eyes as they kissed, felt her pull him to her and then down to the floor.
It didn't hurt so much now.
Friday, March 20th, 2009
His open mouth was pressed against the skin of her throat, his knees banging painfully against the dashboard. She wiggled in his lap, making him groan in frustration and pleasure. He knew he had surrendered the upper hand but he was having a really hard time caring right now.
"See," she practically moaned, arching against him. "Stakeouts can be fun."
"Uh huh," he agreed lazily as he searched out more skin.
She momentarily froze against him when she saw the flash of headlights, but as the car sped past his Range Rover, oblivious to their proclivities, she relaxed. But that split-second helped break the spell on him. At least a little.
"Wait, wait," he breathed as he pulled back from her kisses. "I'm mad at you." He was mad at her, and they were fighting. It was a good fight, too. Something they needed to get out in the open again. Now if only he could remember what it was about...
"You don't feel mad," she said with a smirk, palming the front of his jeans.
Gah. It was near impossible to think when he couldn't get any blood to his brain.
He would remember later, he promised himself as she lowered his zipper. He would remember later and they'd have it out again and ultimately be a better couple for it.
Then she wrapped her hand around him and he forgot his own name.
"Mm, Logan."
Yeah, that was it.
Tuesday, July 12th, 2011
The open bag of Doritos hit him in the chest, the nacho cheese powder encrusting his shirt. He dropped the controller as he looked down at the orange residue covering him like blood from a war wound.
"Do you know how to properly open a bag of chips?" he heard Veronica ask him, her voice tight.
He looked up to see her standing in the kitchen, holding out a package of Lays that had one side shredded to almost the bottom of the bag.
He brushed the tortilla chips off of him as he kicked his feet up on the coffee table and resumed his game. "Sorry. I'll get more later tonight."
"You can't just throw money at this!" she screeched hysterically.
He paused the game, dumbfounded. "Huh?"
She closed her eyes in an effort to compose herself, then walked around the breakfast bar to face him. "Every time," her voice rose, but she paused, checking herself. "Every time I go to get a snack, I find the potato chip bag like this, and half of the chips are smashed in the cupboard and the half in the bag are stale."
He watched her wide-eyed, unsure of what she wanted to hear. "I won't do it again?"
She smiled, but it was that scary smile she usually reserved for Dick. "You won't do it again because I'm going to show you how you're supposed to open them. You grab the front of the bag with one hand, and the back of the bag with the other, and then you pull gently at the seam." She demonstrated it with an invisible package. "And then when you're done, you fold the top over at least twice."
Logan grinned as he stood from the couch, eyeing her happily.
"Did you hear me? Pull gently at the seam and fold the top over."
"Veronica, this isn't about potato chips." He moved behind her to rub her shoulders, so he missed the look of confusion crossing her face.
"It's not?"
"Nope. You're stressed about work and your thesis." He leaned in to whisper in her ear, "You know what you need?"
She spun around in his arms, as he was planning all the ways he wanted to take her. "Yes," she said, her voice low.
"Mm," he agreed, trailing kisses along her jaw.
"I need you to go to the store and get me a bag of Doritos."
Author: annie_oakley
Rating: PG-13, overall
Spoilers: Everything, just to be safe
Summary: A collection of ficlets inspired by several Logan/Veronica prompts from onceuponapillow for the free-for-all challenge at vmfic_gameon.
Author's Note: The title is from a quote by Mother Theresa. And dreamer_marie, I'm doing this to try and break out of a writing slump I'm in right now. I'm hoping to have your fic finished soon!
Prompt: Logan/Veronica, An innocent Logan is convicted for Felix's murder
Summary: Uh, see prompt? And note- I barely remember the details of the whole Felix fiasco, and I'm also not 100% on the whole California court process, either. But then again neither was Rob Thomas, so there's that.
She knew that he thought she didn't care, but that wasn't the case. She did care. She didn't want to care, but she still did.
Maybe a part of her believed nothing would ever come of it, that maybe just once things would work themselves out and she wouldn't have to nearly kill herself to make it right.
She should have known the world doesn't work like that.
Hannah's father refused to retract his statement, and then Hannah was off to a boarding school and Logan was really left with nothing.
The trial was short and bitter, and they were only moments away from hearing the verdict. No one in the room was expecting a surprise. If Tom Griffith's testimony of that night on the bridge wasn't a clincher, then his teary confession of how Logan had tried to seduce his only daughter as a way to force him to recant certainly did the trick.
The foreman stood, ready to speak the words that would seal Logan's fate, and Veronica thought back to the night before when Logan came to her. Gone was all traces of a pompous jackass, which was always his mask of choice. Instead she was left with a terrified little boy who broke her heart when he tearfully promised her, "I'm not like my father." He was barely eighteen and they both knew he would be going to prison for a crime he didn't commit.
As he was being led away, Veronica called out to him, "Logan, I'll fix this." It killed her to see such emptiness when he looked up at her.
He might have thought she didn't care, that he didn't have anyone in his corner, but she would prove him wrong and she would make this right. She knew the world wasn't fair or just, but that was all the more reason to keep fighting.
And she would.
Prompt: Logan/Veronica, "Love me when I least deserve it, because that's when I really need it." --Swedish Proverb
Summary: A redo of the breakup scene in 3.12
"Really? Imagine if you tried."
Veronica backs away from him and heads toward the door. She is going to leave and he is going to let her, but then he hears himself begging her, "What do you want me to do? What can I do?"
She doesn't know what compels her to stop, what makes her turn around and face him again. She doesn't want him to see her cry and she is dangerously close to doing that now.
It hurts so bad it feels like she can't breathe. The only thing she can do now is let him know explicitly that this is something she can't get over, that this is it for her.
Maybe that's what really hurt the most.
She turns around one final time. "Make it not true? Get it out of my head and never let me think about it again? 'Cause...unless you can do that, this is something I'm never getting past."
She can still see that image of Madison writhing on top of him, and that gives her the strength she needs to walk away.
"I wish I could."
It's not his words that get her, because God only knows how little words mean to her. It's the sound of his voice, so strangled, so sad and so totally hopeless.
If only she could hate him, really hate him, this would be so much easier.
"I wish I could make it not true. I can't, but I wish it." She hasn't run off yet, so he continues, even as he wonders if this is more for his benefit now than hers.
"Uh, I was really depressed and I ended up getting pretty trashed." He runs his hand through his hair, hating the way this sounds more like an excuse than the horrible truth. "It was...it was the holidays and I was lonely so I got drunk. I don't really remember anything."
She can't turn around. She can't actually see the tears she can already hear. "That doesn't make it okay!"
"I know," he says simply, for once not putting up a fight. Then she can hear him laughing caustically, and at least that's a Logan she knows. "I really wanted tonight to be perfect for you. Guess that's not going to happen." A pause. "I'm sorry."
She wipes at her eyes and makes to leave, but his voice stops her, again. "Is this...is this really something you're never going to get past?"
"I don't know," she admits.
"We've gotten over so much more, Veronica." It's not a plea, just a statement of fact, not even tinged with the slightest bit of hope.
"I need some time," she tells him. He might think it's a brush off, but it's not. Maybe it'll hurt a little less tomorrow, or the next day, or the day after that, and maybe she'll keep hearing his words instead of seeing him with Madison, and then she'll know they'll be all right.
"Okay."
"I'll call you," she offers before leaving, and at least that's something.
She doesn't need to hate him to make things easier. She just needs to not love him. But even as upset as she still is, she knows that's not really an option.
Prompt: Logan/Veronica, "Sex alleviates tension. Love causes it." -Woody Allen
Summary: L/V- Two fights that ended with sex and one that didn't.
Saturday, June 9th, 2007
He hadn't spoken to her since the day he walked out of the cafeteria, doing his damndest to not look back. That was more than three weeks ago. More than three weeks without so much as a phone call or an email or even a candygram. No checking in out of concern or curiosity, no sense of gratitude or even acknowledgement, and definitely no gummy worms.
Nope, nothing.
But she was here now, standing at his hotel room door, her face blank, which might have been a first. Or maybe his concussion momentarily disrupted his ability to read her so she only appeared blank. Frankly he had no idea what the hell she could be thinking, or why she was there.
"You're an idiot."
Oh.
She brushed past him and entered his suite, and he let her. But he had two black eyes and one broken hand and more bruises than he could count, so it was only understandable if he was a little slow on the uptake.
Then there were a lot of words, all strung together neatly and for maximum effect, and each one hitting him harder than either of Gory's fists. What were you thinking? and This has got to stop and I can't do this anymore!
So this is really it, he thought. Everything before was only delaying the inevitable. Veronica didn't want anything to do with him now and he was really going to be out of her life. Forever.
She continued to yell at him but he could barely hear her. He felt sick and dizzy and so damn tired, and he was pretty sure none of it had anything to do with his physical injuries.
But then she was crying, too. Crying and yelling, her voice straining as hot angry tears trailed down her cheeks. He watched her carefully, terrified to make a move even though he was desperate to, and so confused he didn't know what to make of any of it.
"I thought you died," she finally admitted.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, and for all of the times he had said that to her, he had never meant it more. He never saw her look this way before and he never wanted to see her look this way again.
She looked up at him then; her eyes were still wet, but they were sharp and focused. Then her lips were on his, her hands underneath his shirt, gently trailing over the splotches of purple and green and yellow that covered almost his entire body.
He closed his eyes as they kissed, felt her pull him to her and then down to the floor.
It didn't hurt so much now.
Friday, March 20th, 2009
His open mouth was pressed against the skin of her throat, his knees banging painfully against the dashboard. She wiggled in his lap, making him groan in frustration and pleasure. He knew he had surrendered the upper hand but he was having a really hard time caring right now.
"See," she practically moaned, arching against him. "Stakeouts can be fun."
"Uh huh," he agreed lazily as he searched out more skin.
She momentarily froze against him when she saw the flash of headlights, but as the car sped past his Range Rover, oblivious to their proclivities, she relaxed. But that split-second helped break the spell on him. At least a little.
"Wait, wait," he breathed as he pulled back from her kisses. "I'm mad at you." He was mad at her, and they were fighting. It was a good fight, too. Something they needed to get out in the open again. Now if only he could remember what it was about...
"You don't feel mad," she said with a smirk, palming the front of his jeans.
Gah. It was near impossible to think when he couldn't get any blood to his brain.
He would remember later, he promised himself as she lowered his zipper. He would remember later and they'd have it out again and ultimately be a better couple for it.
Then she wrapped her hand around him and he forgot his own name.
"Mm, Logan."
Yeah, that was it.
Tuesday, July 12th, 2011
The open bag of Doritos hit him in the chest, the nacho cheese powder encrusting his shirt. He dropped the controller as he looked down at the orange residue covering him like blood from a war wound.
"Do you know how to properly open a bag of chips?" he heard Veronica ask him, her voice tight.
He looked up to see her standing in the kitchen, holding out a package of Lays that had one side shredded to almost the bottom of the bag.
He brushed the tortilla chips off of him as he kicked his feet up on the coffee table and resumed his game. "Sorry. I'll get more later tonight."
"You can't just throw money at this!" she screeched hysterically.
He paused the game, dumbfounded. "Huh?"
She closed her eyes in an effort to compose herself, then walked around the breakfast bar to face him. "Every time," her voice rose, but she paused, checking herself. "Every time I go to get a snack, I find the potato chip bag like this, and half of the chips are smashed in the cupboard and the half in the bag are stale."
He watched her wide-eyed, unsure of what she wanted to hear. "I won't do it again?"
She smiled, but it was that scary smile she usually reserved for Dick. "You won't do it again because I'm going to show you how you're supposed to open them. You grab the front of the bag with one hand, and the back of the bag with the other, and then you pull gently at the seam." She demonstrated it with an invisible package. "And then when you're done, you fold the top over at least twice."
Logan grinned as he stood from the couch, eyeing her happily.
"Did you hear me? Pull gently at the seam and fold the top over."
"Veronica, this isn't about potato chips." He moved behind her to rub her shoulders, so he missed the look of confusion crossing her face.
"It's not?"
"Nope. You're stressed about work and your thesis." He leaned in to whisper in her ear, "You know what you need?"
She spun around in his arms, as he was planning all the ways he wanted to take her. "Yes," she said, her voice low.
"Mm," he agreed, trailing kisses along her jaw.
"I need you to go to the store and get me a bag of Doritos."