Fic: The thing about Logan... (R)
I am a lump. A lump who is behind on her flist. A green tank top and pink-undies-with-cupcakes-on-the-butt wearing lump. Who really could have gone outside more today and/or researched apartments in the Chicago area instead of scouring the interwebs for Dark Angel stuff (WHERE is the hot Max/Alec fic that involves him riding bitch on the back of her motorcycle and totally not caring at all?) and writing 'shippy VM fic that has nothing to do with any ficathons or birthdays. I probably could have also written that dirty RPS or Spangel that y'all want.
Yesterday, I was less of a lump and was a very good daughter by hanging out with my Pops even though it involved sunscreen, many, many mosquitos and hauling a canoe a mile up a very steep hill. And all that on 5 hours of sleep after innaugurating greenapricot's entry into her thirties by camping out with trays of crudite and cheese and crackers and wine and cake and ice cream and watching *9* episodes of DA while giggling and cackling like the dorky fangirls that we are. As she says, "Fangirling Jensen is better than caffeine."
Yeah, so here's the LoVe 'shippiness. Next up: Wincest drabble fic. Tomorrow I will be productive and get *life* shit done. *head desk*
Title: The thing about Logan…
Author: femmenerd
Characters/Pairing: Veronica POV, Logan/Veronica ‘shippy, OMG.
Rating: R, for language and some sexual content.
Summary: Spoilers through 2x22, though relatively vague.
The thing about Logan is that Veronica had conditioned herself into thinking that it’s surprising when he’s sweet to her. Except that it isn’t. Because she knows him, and his strengths have always been harder to accept than his flaws.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Not for profit. Don’t sue.
Author’s Note: This is not the “real” post-finale fic I’ve been planning to write. I was so good at watching the show all season in a largely unshippy, “Yay, I like mysteries” kind of way, so I earned this ‘shippy dorkitude. I like to think it’s also *somewhat* about character exploration, ahem.
Word Count: Just over a thousand.
The thing about Logan is that Veronica had conditioned herself into thinking that it’s surprising when he’s sweet to her. Except that it isn’t. Because she knows him, and his strengths have always been harder to accept than his flaws.
And he’s so damn sweet now that she’ll let him be. Because she’s tired of fighting herself, and consequently, him. So Veronica lets the orphan take care of her, in his own idiosyncratic way-with pancakes, miniature golf, tingle-inducing footrubs and soul-kisses. Whispered endearments at night and snarky banter by the light of day-still with the zing but lacking bite.
Logan won’t cry for his father, but he’ll cry for Veronica, in choked, inarticulate, boyish sobs. Whoever decided that real men don’t cry clearly didn’t send the memo to Logan. But then he’s back with the smirks and grins and temporarily ditching her for playstation hours later. Yelling, “Fuck yeah! Die, sucker, die!” at the screen.
He misses Duncan. She can tell-the forlorn second controller told her so.
*****
The thing about their past is that a lot of it was really shitty and Veronica knows that she wasn’t ready for this-for them-before. Many of the addendums and corollaries to their story are sordid-fit for the kind of TV movie his sister only wishes she could land. Murder, (multiply so). Intrigue. Child abuse. Rape. Way too many trials in court. Everything gross and dark that lurks on the underside of this sunnyside-up town.
But it’s how they got here. And here is good, even though they’ve both got scars that are miles wide (or whatever other metaphor could possibly be big enough to cover all this damage). Some may never fully heal, but as they scab over, the two of them both try their damnedest to keep the other from scratching too hard at the wounds.
In comparison to all that, issues of who fucked whose best friend, stepmother, or whoever else are kinda bland.
*****
The thing about sex with Logan is that when the time comes, it is Veronica who makes the first move. She jumps on him with the lazy, afternoon sun streaming through her bedroom window and kisses him until they’re both romance-novel breathless, then teases the top button of his jeans open as his eyes blink up at her with equal parts surprise and lust. And Veronica doesn’t look away as Logan continues to stare up at her like she’s miraculous while she rides him, only worrying briefly at the beginning about the initial awkwardness of her own rhythm. Logan lets her fuck herself on him with an uncomplicated smile on his face, looking both innocent and dirty, biting his lip, and shivering when she leans down to kiss him. He grabs her hips and moves with her as if in a trance, grinning broadly when she comes, his index finger on her clit and her head flung back. The crazy, adolescent sex-god antics that he’s been innuendoing at her for months will have to come later…and they do.
Logan never teased her about the chlamydia, even though he totally could have. Veronica should have known then that they were on their way back to each other-because Logan rarely refuses to grab onto a barb when he’s in self-protection asshole mode. And he doesn’t ask now about the details of how she got it. But she tells him what he must already know about Beaver, in sputters and gasps, until he holds her sideways head to his chest, and kisses the crown of her head lightly, in that way that makes it not all better, but all right.
*****
The thing about arguing with Logan is that it doesn’t seem like the end of the world or anything. It seems like normal couple-ness. Or normal for two people who’re both as stubborn as hell, and are so into each other that they can’t engage halfway. They’re probably never going to not argue, Veronica thinks, and that’s OK. Because she’s not actually always right, and he sure isn’t. This, however, is not to say that he doesn’t piss her off, because no matter what, Logan Echolls has a straight-up talent for that. Sometimes he does it by telling her more truth than she’s up for, and sometimes just by refusing to compromise about what video to rent, until he does, and then acts wounded and tortured about it. Just like a guy.
So some nights she dons her camera and goes out and does recon for her dad, and he drinks beer and plays video games. Then she comes back to the Neptune Grand and makes nice or he blazes up in the Xterra and makes her dad roll his eyes at the noise and then they go driving to the beach and end up skinnydipping. And as Veronica watches him make perfect dolphin-esque swan dives into the waves, she thinks about how good Logan can be at being himself when he puts his mind to it, and wonders what will happen when he finds something to channel all that crazy energy into, once hating his Dad and revenge angst has finally run its course.
*****
The thing about herself when she’s with Logan is that it’s started to be the same Veronica(s) as she is when he’s not around. Minus the shivers and “Must. Kiss. Boy. Now.” impulses. It’s safe now to be the complete collection of Veronica-incarnations in his presence: silly, goofy Veronica; on a mission Veronica; sappy movie loving Veronica; don’t fuck with me Veronica; non-stop, embarrassing pop culture references Veronica; missing her mom and Lilly and her old life Veronica; dorky Veronica; sexy Veronica; crushed out on her former enemy Veronica. Especially that last one.
*****
The thing about their future is that she has absolutely no idea what it will entail, yet for some totally unfathomable reason, Veronica’s just not that worried about it.
*****
The thing about Logan is that he loves her. And that kicks ass.
~Fin~
Oh, and if you're a random VM person not on my flist then I'll tell you that I posted a Logan/Xterra drabble the other day.
Yesterday, I was less of a lump and was a very good daughter by hanging out with my Pops even though it involved sunscreen, many, many mosquitos and hauling a canoe a mile up a very steep hill. And all that on 5 hours of sleep after innaugurating greenapricot's entry into her thirties by camping out with trays of crudite and cheese and crackers and wine and cake and ice cream and watching *9* episodes of DA while giggling and cackling like the dorky fangirls that we are. As she says, "Fangirling Jensen is better than caffeine."
Yeah, so here's the LoVe 'shippiness. Next up: Wincest drabble fic. Tomorrow I will be productive and get *life* shit done. *head desk*
Title: The thing about Logan…
Author: femmenerd
Characters/Pairing: Veronica POV, Logan/Veronica ‘shippy, OMG.
Rating: R, for language and some sexual content.
Summary: Spoilers through 2x22, though relatively vague.
The thing about Logan is that Veronica had conditioned herself into thinking that it’s surprising when he’s sweet to her. Except that it isn’t. Because she knows him, and his strengths have always been harder to accept than his flaws.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Not for profit. Don’t sue.
Author’s Note: This is not the “real” post-finale fic I’ve been planning to write. I was so good at watching the show all season in a largely unshippy, “Yay, I like mysteries” kind of way, so I earned this ‘shippy dorkitude. I like to think it’s also *somewhat* about character exploration, ahem.
Word Count: Just over a thousand.
The thing about Logan is that Veronica had conditioned herself into thinking that it’s surprising when he’s sweet to her. Except that it isn’t. Because she knows him, and his strengths have always been harder to accept than his flaws.
And he’s so damn sweet now that she’ll let him be. Because she’s tired of fighting herself, and consequently, him. So Veronica lets the orphan take care of her, in his own idiosyncratic way-with pancakes, miniature golf, tingle-inducing footrubs and soul-kisses. Whispered endearments at night and snarky banter by the light of day-still with the zing but lacking bite.
Logan won’t cry for his father, but he’ll cry for Veronica, in choked, inarticulate, boyish sobs. Whoever decided that real men don’t cry clearly didn’t send the memo to Logan. But then he’s back with the smirks and grins and temporarily ditching her for playstation hours later. Yelling, “Fuck yeah! Die, sucker, die!” at the screen.
He misses Duncan. She can tell-the forlorn second controller told her so.
*****
The thing about their past is that a lot of it was really shitty and Veronica knows that she wasn’t ready for this-for them-before. Many of the addendums and corollaries to their story are sordid-fit for the kind of TV movie his sister only wishes she could land. Murder, (multiply so). Intrigue. Child abuse. Rape. Way too many trials in court. Everything gross and dark that lurks on the underside of this sunnyside-up town.
But it’s how they got here. And here is good, even though they’ve both got scars that are miles wide (or whatever other metaphor could possibly be big enough to cover all this damage). Some may never fully heal, but as they scab over, the two of them both try their damnedest to keep the other from scratching too hard at the wounds.
In comparison to all that, issues of who fucked whose best friend, stepmother, or whoever else are kinda bland.
*****
The thing about sex with Logan is that when the time comes, it is Veronica who makes the first move. She jumps on him with the lazy, afternoon sun streaming through her bedroom window and kisses him until they’re both romance-novel breathless, then teases the top button of his jeans open as his eyes blink up at her with equal parts surprise and lust. And Veronica doesn’t look away as Logan continues to stare up at her like she’s miraculous while she rides him, only worrying briefly at the beginning about the initial awkwardness of her own rhythm. Logan lets her fuck herself on him with an uncomplicated smile on his face, looking both innocent and dirty, biting his lip, and shivering when she leans down to kiss him. He grabs her hips and moves with her as if in a trance, grinning broadly when she comes, his index finger on her clit and her head flung back. The crazy, adolescent sex-god antics that he’s been innuendoing at her for months will have to come later…and they do.
Logan never teased her about the chlamydia, even though he totally could have. Veronica should have known then that they were on their way back to each other-because Logan rarely refuses to grab onto a barb when he’s in self-protection asshole mode. And he doesn’t ask now about the details of how she got it. But she tells him what he must already know about Beaver, in sputters and gasps, until he holds her sideways head to his chest, and kisses the crown of her head lightly, in that way that makes it not all better, but all right.
*****
The thing about arguing with Logan is that it doesn’t seem like the end of the world or anything. It seems like normal couple-ness. Or normal for two people who’re both as stubborn as hell, and are so into each other that they can’t engage halfway. They’re probably never going to not argue, Veronica thinks, and that’s OK. Because she’s not actually always right, and he sure isn’t. This, however, is not to say that he doesn’t piss her off, because no matter what, Logan Echolls has a straight-up talent for that. Sometimes he does it by telling her more truth than she’s up for, and sometimes just by refusing to compromise about what video to rent, until he does, and then acts wounded and tortured about it. Just like a guy.
So some nights she dons her camera and goes out and does recon for her dad, and he drinks beer and plays video games. Then she comes back to the Neptune Grand and makes nice or he blazes up in the Xterra and makes her dad roll his eyes at the noise and then they go driving to the beach and end up skinnydipping. And as Veronica watches him make perfect dolphin-esque swan dives into the waves, she thinks about how good Logan can be at being himself when he puts his mind to it, and wonders what will happen when he finds something to channel all that crazy energy into, once hating his Dad and revenge angst has finally run its course.
*****
The thing about herself when she’s with Logan is that it’s started to be the same Veronica(s) as she is when he’s not around. Minus the shivers and “Must. Kiss. Boy. Now.” impulses. It’s safe now to be the complete collection of Veronica-incarnations in his presence: silly, goofy Veronica; on a mission Veronica; sappy movie loving Veronica; don’t fuck with me Veronica; non-stop, embarrassing pop culture references Veronica; missing her mom and Lilly and her old life Veronica; dorky Veronica; sexy Veronica; crushed out on her former enemy Veronica. Especially that last one.
*****
The thing about their future is that she has absolutely no idea what it will entail, yet for some totally unfathomable reason, Veronica’s just not that worried about it.
*****
The thing about Logan is that he loves her. And that kicks ass.
~Fin~
Oh, and if you're a random VM person not on my flist then I'll tell you that I posted a Logan/Xterra drabble the other day.