Fic: Welcome to Hezmana (R) Veronica/Logan - 2/2
Title: Welcome to Hezmana
Author: keepaofthecheez
Pairing/Character: Logan/Veronica, slight John/Aeryn (Farscape)
Disclaimer: Don’t own. Don’t sue.
Rating: R for abstract sex
Word Count: 8, 037
Summary: Basically, all you need to know is that there is an omnipotent Company in charge of the smooth running of various universes/dimensions. What happens when two completely different dimensions collide? Prepare yourself for luscious men in leather, living ships, and a whole lot of dren.
Spoilers/Warnings: Everything up to The Quick and the Wed; general season 2 spoilers for Farscape. For those of you who have never seen Farscape, I’ll include a glossary at the end of the fic that will explain some of the terms used within this story.
Author’s Note: Okay. Basically, ladydisdain225 and I were talking about original modes of transportation that Logan and Veronica could “do it” on, and I threw out “a spaceship”, and crack was born.
Written for the “Planes, Trains and Automobiles” challenge over at loveathons.
Thanks to ladydisdain225 for the fantastic beta work and for brainstorming with me, and for reining me in when this fic would have turned into a lenghty diatribe about the quality of John Crichton’s physique. Also, thanks to shizam23 for mutual Crichton appreciation, and taken_with_you for reading and enjoying this when she has no clue about Farscape. Thanks to Ben Browder and Jason Dohring, who inspired an entirely new ship to come my way, and Claudia Black and Kristen Bell for being gorgeous and awesome.
This fic is dedicated to ladydisdain225, without whom it never would have seen the light of day.
Prologue through Part 2 found here.
Part 3
The Uncharted Territories, Deep Space.
Several solar days later.
Logan lost track of how long he and Veronica had been sequestered on the living spaceship. He’d done a well enough job of adapting; spending as much time as possible outside of his cell and interacting with the others.
The crazy things he’d seen in such a short time continued to baffle him. He’d met the blue-skinned Delvian priestess Zhaan, only later to be informed that she was actually a freaking plant. He’d longed for a few hits from Dick’s bong after that one.
He’d also been introduced to the helmet-head creature named Pilot, who not only helped operate Moya, but was apparently bonded to her so that he could read her thoughts and feel the emotions she experienced. Crichton had attempted to explain the covenant between Pilots and Leviathans, but he didn’t really seem to understand it anymore than Logan did.
Logan’s favorite thing to do when they were all together was to start humming the Mos Eisley Cantina theme, and it always succeeded in pissing off Aeryn and D’Argo, who complained that the noise hurt their ears. Rygel, on the other hand, compared the music to the lovely song of the forest creatures that inhabited his beloved Hyneria. Logan figured…whatever.
He worried about Veronica though.
Not only had she yet to give up the idea that everything they were experiencing was merely a figment of her imagination, but she’d closed herself off from everyone onboard. Even Logan. She opted to remain in their cell for hours - or “arns”, as the others termed them - on end, and only came out to eat.
She hadn’t even gone down with the rest of them to the commerce planets to get supplies and rations. Logan had tried to catch her interest by suggesting that they could try to find something besides the grotesque green food cubes to eat, which were dry and powdery and tasted more like chalk than the mixture of vital food groups they were supposed to represent. But Veronica had wanted none of it.
He looked up from the naked Sebacean girls cartridge Chiana had hooked him up with during their last off-ship expedition. As usual, Veronica was laying on her bed, staring up at the ceiling as if in a daze. He opted to make a few interesting sounds, thumbing the disc and pretending the images contained within weren’t basically the same old stuff he’d already seen back home.
She didn’t even blink. “If you and your hand are going to get friendly, would you mind taking it to another room? Thanks.”
He turned the cartridge off. “God, what the hell’s wrong with you? It’s been days, Veronica. Snap out of it.”
“I’m waiting for the REM sleep to wind down,” she answered blandly, lifting one knee up and extending it, stretching out the muscles.
Logan’s eyes traveled the length of her leg, and then he quickly shook his head. “Well, you’re freaking me out,” he grumbled, abruptly irritated with both of them. He hadn’t forgotten about the things he wanted to discuss with Veronica. He’d tried bringing their issues up several times, thinking that maybe a mention of home would help garner her attention long enough to break her out of whatever funk she’d placed herself in. But she’d only look at him, then look away.
“I think I’ll go see what Crichton and the others are doing,” he stated, tossing the nudie cartridge on his bed. “Not that you give a damn.”
Before she could answer, not that Logan really expected her to, the cell door slid open and Chiana slipped inside. She shot a quick glance at Veronica, then sent Logan a smile. “Hey…handsome. Whatcha doing?”
Logan stood, grinning, aware of Veronica’s silence behind them. For whatever reason, Veronica had taken an instant dislike to Chiana, which was odd considering all of Chiana’s character traits which were parallels to Lilly. Logan would have liked to think she was just plain jealous, but knew that was asking for way too much where Veronica Mars was concerned.
“I’m heading to the maintenance bay,” Chiana offered, sidling up to him with her usual catlike grace, circling around him and running a nail down the front of his chest. She spoke into his ear, rubbing her hips sinuously against his behind. “Wanna come help me measure some…fluids?”
Logan had been with plenty of sexually aggressive women, Kendall Casablancas in particular. But he’d never batted an eyelash at the things they’d suggest, much too jaded and cynical to be the least bit surprised. With Chiana…every word that came out of her mouth spoke of carnal delights he couldn’t even begin to fathom. He was as wary as he was tempted.
“Sure,” he answered, tossing back a look at Veronica, who had given up trying to pretend she wasn’t listening to the conversation, and was red-faced and glaring at both of them. A sudden, sick sense of hope - and possibly vengeance for all of the hell she’d put him through - filled him, and he caught Chi’s hand as it reached for the waistband of his jeans. “I’m good with fluids.”
A loud clearing of throat sounded behind them, and Logan looked over to find John watching the exchange with a fair amount of exasperation. “Chiana,” he drawled, the southern-bred charm thickening his voice, “you’re needed in command. If you can keep your damn hands to yourself, Logan, you can help me out in the bay.”
“You’re looking tense, Johnny,” Chiana teased, slinking around Logan and approaching the astronaut with obvious affection. “Aeryn being a pain in the eema?”
John simply smiled, although there was a hint of exhaustion in his eyes. “Bye, Chiana.”
“You human boys,” she pouted. “Looking for love in all the wrong places.”
She blew Logan a kiss, then was gone. Logan glanced up to find John eyeing him with an expression he couldn’t quite make out, and not for the first time he wondered exactly where the man’s affections lied. It was obvious that something was going on between him and the female solider, Aeryn, and it was equally obvious that she was being cold and awkward about it. Logan could relate pretty well. But there was also a strange sort of bond between Crichton and Chiana, and Logan was more intrigued than anything else.
“Let’s get a move on,” Crichton finally said. ‘That amnexus fluid don’t regulate itself.”
With one final look back at Veronica, who was back to studiously avoiding his gaze and staring at the ceiling, Logan shrugged and moved to follow Crichton. Lights flickered along Moya’s interior corridor and the yellow DRD’s, which Logan associated with the small robotic critters on Imperial Starships, skittered along the floor doing their repairs and surveillance.
They reached tier 3, headed into the maintenance bay and Logan whistled at the general size of the area. It wasn’t the first time he’d been inside, but it never failed to amaze him. Sparks flew from frayed electrical wiring, corroded pipes creaked and moaned, and vats of bubbling fluids rested against the walls.
“It’s a bit overwhelming, huh?” John surmised from the look on Logan’s face, grunting slightly as he lumbered over a crate of scrap metal. “Doesn’t get any easier, lemme tell ya.”
“How long have you been here?” Logan wondered, idly picking up random pieces of equipment and studying them.
“Long enough. Stop touching everything.”
Raising a brow, Logan put down the strange instrument and held up both hands. “Pardon moi.”
“And stay away from Chiana,” Crichton continued, sending Logan a narrowed look. “She’s in a vulnerable place right now. She just lost her brother, and she’s trying to hold onto anything and everything she can.”
“Including you?” Logan returned sarcastically. “Look, if you’re just warning me off of your girlfriend or whatever, fine. But don’t try and sugarcoat it like you’re looking out for her ‘well being’.”
Crichton’s face turned red, and he began to sputter, much to Logan’s amusement. Among the nonsensical babble were the words, “Not…girlfriend…”
“Ah, so it’s the chick with the leather fetish who’s got you strutting around like the cock of the walk,” Logan replied easily, having supposed as much already. “Nice. Although the psychotic soldier bitch thing doesn’t really do it for me, if you know what I mean.”
John just stared at him for a long moment, then broke down laughing. Tears were leaking from the corners of his eyes as he pointed at Logan and choked out, “You…if she heard you say that…”
Logan grew a little uneasy at that. He was actually a bit intimidated by Aeryn, which was more than slightly humiliating for a guy who refused to back down from anyone or anything. All the former Peacekeeper had to do was lift one brow, and Logan immediately found someone else to keep company.
“She is a little scary,” Logan agreed, sitting on one of the crates. “She seems to like you though.” He paused. “At least, she doesn’t curse everyone’s existence as much when you’re there.”
“Yeah, well, that changes daily. Stick around,” Crichton answered, a little testily. He turned and bent to check a vat of amnexus liquid, and Logan did a little drum ditty on the crate he was perched on.
“How’s Veronica?” John asked a moment later, sounding genuinely concerned. “We haven’t seen much of her.”
“Ver-on-i-ca,” Logan drew the name out, considering. “You won’t. She’s decided this is all her personal fantasy land, and she’s the most stubborn twit I know. She’ll hole herself up in there until things get back to normal. Veronica looooves normal.”
“I tried to talk to her the other day, and she tasered me.”
“That’s normal.”
“My fault for letting her keep the damn thing, I guess. Don’t know what I was thinking.”
Crichton had the same look on his face that Logan wore around Aeryn, and abruptly Logan broke out into a grin. “Women. I fucking love them, man.”
***
The Uncharted Territories, Deep Space.
Veronica’s personal fantasy land.
Logan still wasn’t back.
Veronica swung both feet over the edge of the bed, looking down at the floor as her hair hung around her face. She was starting to feel a little desperate, and she knew…there was no more denying that this entire nightmare was merely a dream. Honestly, she’d never really believed that to be the case to begin with, but she’d always dealt better through denial.
She was still steaming over Logan’s earlier interaction with that sleazy Chiana, and furiously wondered if the two were off somewhere “recreating”, as she’d heard Aeryn Sun refer to sex as on more than one occasion. The others never thought she was listening, so they rarely bothered to censor themselves around her. As if they would have anyway.
She’d witnessed quite a few scandalous encounters between Crichton and Aeryn since she’d been aboard Moya, and she could say with authority that she’d never seen a more misguided and horny pair as those two. Except, perhaps her and Logan. Although she so wasn’t ready to go there.
Maybe she was experiencing some sort of tragic sexual dementia. Or maybe it was watching John and Aeryn tiptoe around each other like two wild animals ready to pounce and lick the other’s skin off, but whatever it was, she was being affected. And she wasn’t at all sure that she liked it.
It didn’t help matters that she’d never been able to get rid of the sexual chemistry that sizzled between her and Logan. She could think he was the lowest scum at the bottom of the barrel, and often did, but that didn’t mean that she didn’t want to slurp him right up…
She shook her head quickly. “Okay, something is so seriously wrong with me.”
“Ah, she speaks.”
Veronica looked over sharply, and found Aeryn watching her with dry amusement. She stood, reaching in her pocket for the taser, then realized that Aeryn was holding some kind of pistol on her.
“It was amusing when you electrocuted D’Argo and Crichton, but I can assure you. You won’t be getting me without getting some yourself.”
Veronica lifted a brow, but acknowledged the truth with a subtle smile. She studied the other woman curiously, then lowered her hand to her side. “Where’s Logan?”
“I came to check and make sure you hadn’t cacked it. I don’t know where your little recreation buddy is.”
“Logan is not my recreation buddy, Xena,” Veronica seethed, crossing her arms and spreading both feet wide, wishing she had more than five-feet to work with.
“Right,” Aeryn answered, obviously disbelieving. “Well, here’s your portion of the rations. I had to wrestle them away from Rygel, so a few might be...”
Veronica stared down at the proffered platter of food cubes, many which were bearing teeth-marks, and grimaced. “Well, as long as you didn’t go to any trouble,” she replied with false sweetness.
Aeryn smiled then. “You really did electrocute Crichton, didn’t you?”
“I woke up and he was hovering over me,” Veronica claimed defensively. “It was purely reactionary.”
“Might I borrow that…taser?” Aeryn asked, testing the word out on her tongue. “There are times when I wouldn’t mind ‘reacting’ to Crichton, and a pulse pistol is so messy.”
Unable to help herself, Veronica grinned. “If it’s for a worthy cause.”
The two women smiled at each other, and then Veronica bit her lip. “So you and Crichton are…?”
Aeryn looked instantly uncomfortable, and Veronica wished she could have taken the words back. For the first time, she was feeling something of a camaraderie with someone on the ship, and she had to blow it by being…well, Veronica. Nosy, wannabe detective extraordinaire.
“Never mind,” she said quickly, but was interrupted by Aeryn, who blurted out, “I don’t…Crichton is so….”
Veronica remained silent as Aeryn began pacing the interior of the cell absently. “Crichton is so…Crichton,” Aeryn concluded, as if that should explain it all. Veronica glanced around, then nodded solemnly.
“I can see that.”
“He wears his frelling sleeve on his heart, but he’s so hard to read sometimes,” Aeryn continued ranting, and Veronica muffled a snort at the misuse of the phrase. “All my life, I’ve been trained…a soldier doesn’t show emotion. You’d think he’d understand, but he’s Crichton.”
“So you’ve said.” Veronica tilted her head slightly, studying the frustrated woman with sympathy. “You’re totally in love with him, huh?”
Aeryn didn’t reply, just stared at Veronica with a hopeless expression that should have been amusing, had Veronica not understood the emotion so well herself.
“He is a hottie,” Veronica ventured, hoping to lighten the mood.
“Hottie?” Aeryn echoed, frowning.
“Ah, it’s an…Earth…term,” Veronica squirmed, feeling ridiculous. God, if Neptune High could see her now…discussing different euphemisms for gorgeous men with a freaking alien. “Hot, sexy, prime Grade A man-meat?”
“Ah. You mean he’s freslish,” Aeryn nodded. Then glared. “Yes, he is. The bastard.”
“I get you,” Veronica sighed, leaning against the wall and closing her eyes. “You should be able to control them, because they’re absolute morons, but somehow, they keep scoring the points.”
“Who is the man who makes you feel this?” Aeryn queried, and Veronica’s eyes popped back open.
“N-No one,” she quickly assured her, heart racing. For God’s sake, there was no denying the face she’d been imagining when she’d spoken those words to Aeryn, and the image wasn’t the boy she’d spent half of her life pining over in some shape or form. She hadn’t thought of Duncan in days.
Aeryn’s expression said she wasn’t buying it, and Veronica knew it. “I see you’ve stopped pretending that none of this is really happening to you, Veronica,” she stated, giving Veronica’s name a beautifully exotic lilt on her foreign tongue. “Maybe it’s time you stopped pretending about other things as well.”
“Hello pot, meet kettle,” Veronica sneered, but Aeryn was already halfway down the hall. She fumed in silence, wanting to give into the childish urge to stomp her feet and stick her tongue out at the place where Aeryn had been.
But Aeryn was right. And that was probably what pissed her off the most. She’d had plenty of time since they’d been aboard Moya, hell, since Logan’s trial back in Neptune, to sort out her true feelings regarding the men in her life. To determine why it upset her so much to see Logan using the pretty sophomore Hannah Griffith to clear his name.
Sure, some of it had been honest-to-God disappointment. But a larger, more selfish portion had been cold envy. That he’d go to someone else, use someone else - and himself in the process - instead of coming to her. Then, she was immediately reminded of the many times he’d come to her, only to face the heat of her anger and derision.
Whereas Duncan…
Veronica closed her eyes in pain, reliving the last time she’d seen the boy she’d always assumed she’d love forever. Seated on the witness stand during the Felix Toombs murder trial, sporting a full growth of beard from his time spent hiding in Mexico. Lilly in the arms of Jake Kane, as Duncan had stonily testified against Logan, avoiding Cliff’s eyes. Claiming that Logan had told him, in full, the details of that horrible night on the bridge. Twisting the truth.
Veronica had watched the proceedings in absolute horror and had happened to glance over to where Logan sat, white-faced and shaking. The betrayal evident in his features still haunted her, as did the events which had happened after. Watching Cliff tear Duncan apart on the stand had validated Logan in the end, but it had destroyed everything Veronica had ever held dear. Everything she had ever allowed herself to believe in.
The truth had come out. Duncan’s deal with the Fitzpatricks’ to dispose of both Felix, who had grown a little too interested in the Fitzpatricks’ drug ring, and Logan, who had grown a little too interested in Veronica. Like killing two birds with one stone, Duncan had finally admitted through tears of hysteria. The trial had ended when he’d fallen into a seizure and lunged for Logan, and Veronica had been unable to do anything but stand by, choked and aghast.
Later it had come out that Duncan had been behind the shooting of Logan’s Xterra during the summer. While he hadn’t pulled the trigger, those who had had been only too happy to turn in the heir to the Kane fortune when his arrest had been announced. For the promise of lesser sentences, of course.
And the dirt had continued to roll in…
Veronica shook off the memories, the taste of salt lingering on her lip as she reached up to wipe away tears that she hadn’t even realized had been falling. She took a moment to compose herself, then moved to follow Aeryn. Leaving her cell for the first time in days, she was a tad disoriented, and it took her a few minutes to recall the direction she wanted to take.
Logan didn’t know, but she’d often left the cell during the night while the others were sleeping to take in her surroundings and search for some kind of reassurance that she was, in fact, dreaming. It was during one of these night-flights that she’d come across John and Aeryn in the hangar bay. Veronica had thought about making her presence known for only a split-second before the sounds of panting and sexual excitement had reached her ears, and she’d frozen in momentary disbelief.
Unable to deny her instinctive curiosity, she’d peeked around the array of transport modules to discover a sight that would forever be burned in her mind. John Crichton, back to her and completely naked, had Aeryn up against the side of Aeryn’s Prowler and was systematically thrusting into her over and again. Aeryn’s head was thrown back, a look of uninhibited bliss occupying her features that was so at odds with the suspicion that normally colored her expression from day-to-day.
Veronica didn’t know how long she’d stood there, staring at the muscles in Crichton’s buttocks flex, but when she’d finally broken out of her daze and gone back to her cell, she’d lain awake for the rest of the night. Listening to the sounds of Logan breathing on the opposite side of the room. Wondering… about him and if he'd ever taken a woman like that. If the woman had worn that same expression as Aeryn, and what Logan’s might have looked like in turn.
Sexual space dementia, here she came.
It was then that she caught a flash of gray in the corner of her eye, and she spun around to glimpse Chiana disappearing inside one of the empty quarters. Blood and jealousy bubbling, Veronica changed course and stormed over to the cell in question, pounding on the door and gritting her teeth.
So help Logan if he was in there…
Chiana appeared a minute later, gleaming with sweat and flushed from head to toe, turning her gray flesh a mottled color. She twitched her head at Veronica. “What?”
“Where’s Logan?” Veronica managed, not needing a rocket scientist to explain to her that Chiana had been previously partaking in extracurricular activities better left unmentioned.
Chiana appeared taken aback by the venom in her voice, then smiled. “Lose him already?” she purred, turning her back on Veronica and dropping the shoulder of her clothing. Sliding the other down as well, she threw back, “Last time I saw him, he was enjoying himself completely. Don’t worry about it.”
Veronica titled her own head, offering Chiana a sugary-sweet smile. “Honey, the only thing he was enjoying was the easy accessibility.”
Chiana turned around, an expression of confusion highlighting her features. Then, “Oh, I see. You don’t want him, but you don’t want anyone else to have him either. Tough dren.”
“Where is he?” Veronica demanded again, fingers curling into her palm.
“I don’t frelling know,” Chiana griped, spinning around and sending Veronica a disgusted look. “He’s not my narl. I don’t have to watch out for him. If you want to, that’s drad, but do it somewhere else, all right?”
Without another word, Veronica spun on her heel and started for the command, completely missing the satisfied, amused smile that lifted Chiana’s lips.
***
Part Four
The Uncharted Territories, Deep Space.
The Hangar Bay. Yes, that hangar bay…
“Fuck!”
“See, you’re doing it too hard. Ease up on the tension just a tad.”
Logan grunted in compliance, squatting and maneuvering the instrument up inside the engine with less force than before. “That sounded kinda gay,” he pointed out, catching Crichton’s eye.
John rolled his neck, and his eyes. “You wish, Pretty Boy.”
A beep sounded, then John’s comms crackled and Aeryn’s annoyed voice snapped, “Crichton, get your ass up here. Now.”
Logan’s brows lifted, and he began whistling an ominous tune while Crichton shot him an irritated look. “What’d you do to piss off the Missus this time, Crichton?”
“Eat me,” was John’s response as he came to his feet and stared down at the floor for a minute. “Crap. What the hell did I do now?”
He left and Logan stared at his Xterra a bit forlornly. For a moment he wondered what Veronica might be up to, and then dismissed the silly idea. It wasn’t like she was thinking about him, anyway.
He worked for a few more minutes in silence, doing everything that Crichton had suggested to get the Xterra up and running again. Not that Logan had any idea what he’d do once it was. It was just something to keep him from going crazy with what-ifs, he supposed. Like….what if they never figured out how to get back to Neptune? John Crichton was a fucking astronaut and hecouldn’t figure it out. How the hell were two high school students going to get back? And they had to, before Veronica slipped even further away, away from her sanity. Away from him.
Sighing heavily, he peeled off his shirt and slung it over one shoulder, eyeing the mess before him with faraway eyes. He was so intent on not thinking about Veronica, that he completely missed the fact that he was no longer alone in the hangar.
A petite shadow fell at his feet seconds before he found himself shoved up against the side of the Xterra, the tool in his hand making a clanging echo in the bay as it fell to the ground. “What the frell?” he shouted, not even realizing that he’d fallen back on the Sebacean expletive.
He spun around to find Veronica glaring at him, five-feet of bristling, blonde female. He blinked once, twice. Then, “What the hell are you doing here?”
Her eyes took in his half-nakedness, and if possible, she grew even more upset “Not expecting me, were you? Well, that’s pretty obvious.”
Logan could only stare. “Are you feeling all right?”
“Of course I’m not feeling all right!” she bellowed, and he actually flinched as the sound was thrown back at him two-fold by the rafters and walls. “I haven’t been all right since we ended up in this godforsaken place, Logan! What I don’t understand is how you’re having such a grand old time.”
“Well, it’s not like my life was all sunshine and roses back on Earth,” he pointed out a little sarcastically. “What the hell, a spaceship. I can dig it. For now.”
It was her turn to appear baffled. “Do you even hear how ridiculous this conversation is?”
“Veronica, when are you going to wake up and realize that you aren’t dreaming?” Logan cried out in exasperation. “For the love of…you’ve pinched yourself so many times you have bruises, and I’ve seen you dumping buckets of cold water on yourself in the morning. You’re gonna have to accept it, okay? We’re here, maybe indefinitely. Pretending otherwise isn’t helping anything.”
“You just don’t understand,” she beseeched, but Logan cut her off with a single gesture.
“No, I never understand you. That’s the fucking truth.” He stared at her for a long moment, then continued, “I’m gonna go back to fixing this damn thing, and we can argue about this later. Right now, I’d rather cut my head off and impale it on a telephone pole than fight with you. I’m hot, and tired, and I just wanna finish here.”
Veronica remained silent for several seconds, hands clenched into fists. Then, she thrust her chin up with adamant purpose. “All right, kiss me.”
He froze, slowly turning back to gape at her. “Excuse me?”
She cocked a brow, hands on her hips. “Prove this isn’t a dream, Logan. Plant one on me, right here.” She tapped her lips with an index finger, eyes challenging.
“Yeah, you’re definitely on something,” he laughed unsteadily. “Look, I’ll catch you later and-”
“Don’t tell me you’re too chicken, Logan. It’s just a little kiss.”
“I am not chicken,” he bit off, taking a step forward to poke her in the chest. “You hardly scare me, Mars.”
She only smirked and tilted her head, obviously not believing him.
He laughed, leaning back and crossing his arms. “I think you’ve got cabin fever. You’re acting insane, you know that, right?”
“Oh, forget it,” she snapped. “God, I’ll be in our ‘quarters’, counting sheep.”
Logan caught her elbow as she spun around, and dragged her up to her toes. He held her surprised gaze for a split-second, and then covered her mouth with his own. She threw her arms around him, lips and tongue meeting his in a wild frenzy he could hardly keep up with.
“Fuck,” he managed, taking her face between his hands and tilting her head to better take her mouth. Her leg curled around his waist, and suddenly everything was hotter, wetter, and deeper than before. His hands slid beneath her shirt and yanked it over her head.
She was breathing rapidly, excitedly, eyes gleaming with a glazed sort of pleasure that both intoxicated and frightened him. He paused, palms spread below her ribcage and whispered, “What the hell are we doing, Veronica?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted, searching his expression. “But…”
“I think this proves you aren’t dreaming,” Logan stated unnecessarily. “I doubt you have dreams this sexy about me.” He couldn’t hold back the flavor of bitterness residing on his tongue.
She was quiet for so long that his skin began to crawl. Then, in a voice so dry and glib that it was the only thing she could have done to reassure him, she said, “So, it’s a nightmare. Kiss me again.”
A smile broke out over his features. “So, does this mean you don’t hate me anymore?”
“I never said that,” she said sweetly, fingers nimbly undoing his belt as she stared up at him.
“God, you’re stubborn.”
“Logan.” Her voice was pointed, and sardonic. “I’m giving you a green-light here. Don’t wait for it to turn yellow, okay?”
“Bossy, too,” he added, voice catching on a groan when she leaned up and snagged his earlobe with her teeth. “You know, I think you really do like me.”
“Take your pants off.”
His eyes popped open. “Whoa. What? What?”
“Am I not doing this right?” she whispered, fingers fumbling. Logan stared down at her and glimpsed frustrated tears shining in her eyes.
“Veronica,” Logan started slowly, wanting to choose his words with care. “Exactly…what are you trying to do here?”
Jaw thrust out at a stubborn degree, she stared up at him with furious and embarrassed eyes. “Don’t be stupid,” she said through clenched teeth.
“Yeah, I feel a little stupid right now,” Logan admitted, giving a small laugh as he scratched his head. “I mean, you’ve been out of it for days, and hated me for months before that. Now you’re…well…I can see your bra, Veronica.”
Her implacable expression remained, but he thought he saw her lips twitch slightly. “You really are a moron. Do I have to spell it out for you?”
“Veronica. You had me at ‘take off your pants’,” Logan whispered patiently, breaking into soft chuckles that grew in volume when she reached out a fist and slugged him none-too-gently on the shoulder.
Their lips met again, hungrily, and then Logan caught her hips and pulled her up. She wrapped her legs around his waist, curling her arms around his neck and easing her tongue into his mouth. Rivulets of sweat coursed down his back, gathering at the base of his spine as he spun them around and rested her against the Xterra.
His hips pressed against hers as he worked on the clasp to her bra, eating at her mouth and relishing every choked moan that escaped her throat. When he finally had her breasts in hand, he dragged his lips away from her mouth and closed them over a nipple. She jumped, fingers gripping his hair, then she relaxed against him.
“Ohmygod,” she crooned, pleasant surprise coloring her voice. “Wow, that’s…”
“Fucking hot,” he finished, blowing across the wet skin, watching goose bumps dance across her flesh. “Hold still.”
“I…can’t,” she admitted, squirming delightfully against his cock as he gritted his teeth and fought against the urge to fuck it all, and her.
“You’re gonna have to,” he begged, dropping his hands to her bottom and squeezing. “Otherwise…”
“God, it’s hot in here.”
“Veronica, look at me,” he said, voice thrumming and intense. His fingers played at the seam between her legs, tracing the denim there with gentle pressure. When she finally focused glazed eyes on his, he slowly lowered her legs from around his waist, keeping one hand between her thighs as he used his other to work her zipper down. Tugging the jeans and her underwear down her hips, he slid both palms back up her thighs and levered her up as he came to his knees.
Her sharp intake of breath clued him in that she knew exactly what he was about to do. It took him a minute to remember that she was no longer the same innocent-for-all-intents-and-purposes Veronica that she’d been during the summer they’d dated and messed around. She’d had a steady boyfriend, and a supposedly healthy sexual relationship. With Duncan.
It took him a moment to realize she was calling his name. He blinked, looking up to find her watching him with confused, heavy-lidded eyes. “Sorry, what?” he asked, voice hoarse.
“You don’t have to do this,” she began unsteadily, a deep flush coloring her cheeks.
He stared at her for a long moment. “No, I don’t.” Then he leaned forward and kissed her between her legs, allowing the tip of his tongue a small lick as he retreated. Her thighs jerked, then instinctively clamped around his shoulders.
“Logan…”
He slid forward, supporting her body as he pleasured her, giving careful attention to all of the secret places he knew would bring her what she wanted. If this was truly the only thing he was good for, he’d knock it outta the park.
She bucked and moaned against his mouth, tormenting his cock, while at the same time, assuaging his ego. Without warning, he stopped his tender ministrations and came to his feet and burying his face in her neck.
Her fingers slid inside his half-unzipped pants, searching. His entire body stiffened, and then mellowed as she closed around him. His breath came out on a ragged moan, lips dropping kisses along her naked shoulder. “That feels good…” he managed, which was a complete understatement.
“Aeryn gave me something…” she began, licking her lips. “It’s….supposed to prevent anything from happening if we…”
He raised his head to look at her. Voice thready with self-control, he asked, “You went to Aeryn for birth control?”
She nodded.
He groaned. “Oh God, Aeryn? Why didn’t you just ask Chiana?”
He immediately felt Veronica close off. “Why should I have gone to Chiana?” she wondered, a tad testily.
He blinked. “Becaaaaause, she has like, a PhD in sex?”
Veronica glared at him. “And has the good doctor made any house calls, Logan?”
He cocked his head. “You’re jealous of Chiana. That’s adorable.”
She made a growling sound, and Logan braced himself for an attack. To his complete surprise, she yanked his pants down in one fell swoop. She kissed him again, her body sliding sinuously against his own, perspiration dotting their flesh. As if in slow motion, Logan found himself lifting her up against the Xterra, and sinking slowly inside of her body.
They both groaned, long and low, and Logan clamped his teeth down over her shoulder as Veronica’s head lolled against him. He paused a moment to regain his bearings, then drove in again. Sweat stung his eyes.
The idea that anyone on Moya could walk in on them at any moment was more exhilarating than it should have been. Logan had never been an exhibitionist, but he hadn’t once spoken up to tell Veronica that it was possible that someone could discover them.
“Oh God…” she gasped, going ramrod stiff for a split-second before she began to tremble with pleasure. Logan growled deep in his chest, surrendering to his own climax and resting his forearms against the Xterra on either side of Veronica’s head. His hips rubbed gently against her, drawing out the pleasure of the moment for as long as possible.
They rested there, recovering for long moments as occasional beeps from the DRD’s on patrol marked the time. Logan finally lifted his head, swallowing thickly before he met Veronica’s slumberous gaze.
“So…was that good for you?”
***
Part Five
The Uncharted Territories, Deep Space.
A not-so-dank-and-torturous-living-quarters.
Veronica could feel his eyes on her, and struggled to keep from looking up. As it was, a blush had formed on her cheeks and refused to go away since they’d left the hangar bay. She wasn’t…embarrassed, so much. She just couldn’t help but wonder what was going through Logan’s mind at the moment.
She’d gone out on a limb to let him know how much she wanted to be with him, and it had cost her a tiny amount of her pride that she’d been loathe to give up. She was equal parts relieved and surprised that he’d gone along with the entire thing. She knew things were far from reconciled between them, and God only knew they had ample things to discuss…but she couldn’t wipe the silly grin off of her face for anything. It was…it was a start. That was all.
“So.” His voice was a mild drawl, and she jumped in surprise. Glancing over, she found him reclining on his elbows, studying her intensely. “Are we gonna talk about it?”
“Of course we’re going to talk about it,” she answered, adding a little spark to her tone as he cocked a brow. “Just…not right now.”
“Why not?”
Someone pounded on the door, and Crichton’s voice yelled, “Yo! Grub’s ready!”
Veronica sent Logan a pointed expression, then stood up to stretch her arms over her head. “That’s why.”
“They probably already know,” Logan grumbled, moving to join her. “You did go to Aeryn for whatever-the-hell earlier.”
“But she thought I wanted it for D’Argo,” Veronica answered blithely, grinning widely as Logan tripped and made a sputtering sound. “Gotcha.”
“You’re beyond evil, Mars.”
“So they tell me.”
They walked down the corridor together, and then Logan’s fingers slid between hers. She shot him a quick look, but he continued staring straight ahead. A small smile curving her lips, Veronica looked back up in time to find Crichton watching them with a smile of his own.
“Bon appetite,” he offered, giving an exaggerated wave to where the platters of food cubes resided on the dining table. Veronica resisted the urge to snort, picking up one of the food cubes and biting a chunk off. Strangely, it tasted better than it ever had before.
“I did nothing of the sort,” Chiana’s voice carried from the opposite corridor, and Veronica glanced up as the female alien pranced into the room, D’Argo close on her heels. “I just gave her a little push, that’s all.”
She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw Veronica, and Veronica smiled sweetly in return, immediately guessing the truth behind the earlier scene between them. Chiana smiled hesitantly, eyes flying to Logan, who was hovering over Veronica while speaking with Crichton, and she offered Veronica a sassy wink. Veronica’s smile immediately warmed.
Rygel zoomed by on his floating throne, and stole the food cube out of Veronica’s fingers. Aeryn caught the creature as he headed for his spot at the table, and she wrestled the cube away from him while threatening to do something with her pulse pistol that Veronica couldn’t quite catch.
As the others all appeared and took their places, laughing and joking over the day’s events, Veronica truly relaxed for the first time in a long while. Odd as it was that it had taken being stranded in an alien refugee camp for her to actually feel at home again, she wasn’t about to question the situation. She wished her father and Wallace could have been there to make the experience complete, but came to the bittersweet realization that it might never be possible.
“Hey, Logan, ask your girlfriend to pass the dessert,” Crichton cracked around a mouthful of food cubes.
“Ask her yourself,” Logan threw back, reaching across the table to snag another block of ‘dessert cubes’ for himself. He threw a glance at Veronica upon the mention of ‘girlfriend’, but when she didn’t react negatively, he relaxed and sat back in his seat.
“No way. She scares me,” John returned, fingering the area of his ribs where Veronica had tasered him the previous day. He sent her a playful look to which she fluttered her lashes innocently.
“I’ll tell you what is truly frightening,” Rygel began superciliously, but John threw an arm around him and used his hand as a muzzle.
“No one cares, Buckwheat.”
Veronica found herself laughing, and caught Logan’s eyes. They exchanged a small smile as their hands found one another beneath the privacy of the table.
***
The middle of Somewhere, on the edge of Someplace.
“I think we’re nearly finished, sir.”
“Well, la di da. It only took all night, as predicted.”
“Cross-dimensional collision stabilizing. All access portals detangling in five, four, three, two…”
“Sorry about the mess, boss.”
“Ah, it happens all the time. Next time, just try not to fall asleep on night shift. These universes can’t run themselves.”
“Good thing, too, or we’d be out of a job.”
“Sometimes, I long for retirement.”
***
The Uncharted Territories, Deep Space.
Logan’s stomach hurt from laughter as he listened to Chiana describe an event that had occurred during a youthful trip to what she’d assumed to be an uninhabited planet, but was really an illegal free-for-all orgy colony. The look on Veronica’s and Crichton’s faces as Chiana explained some of the more intimate details nearly made him lose it right then and there.
“That’s definitely…illegal,” Veronica agreed, brows reaching the top of her forehead, as John simply sat there and gaped. Logan nudged her shoulder and she shot him a quick look that he couldn’t quite read.
Things weren’t exactly perfect now, but for the first time he felt that maybe they could be. They’d gone through a complete shitstorm over the past two years, and a lot of the problems could be laid directly at their own feet. It had taken getting sucked out of their own world and planted on the deep space version of Gilligan’s Island to make them finally reach out to one another, but it was better than nothing.
He was actually, God forbid, looking forward to having an actual conversation with Veronica Mars later that night. One that didn’t involve name-calling and hiding the truth. A conversation that would hopefully heal some wounds and open some doors.
He opened his mouth to contribute to the conversation, when Moya suddenly careened forward, sending everyone toppling over one another as screams and shouting filled the air.
“Pilot? What the hell’s going on down there?” Crichton hollered, picking himself up from on top of Zhaan. “Pilot!”
“I’m….sorry, Commander,” Pilot’s languid voice filled the comms devices. “I cannot…pick up any disturbances on Moya’s…tracking. We’re unsure as of yet….what caused the trouble.”
“Wonderful,” Crichton replied ironically. “What a new concept. We don’t know what’s going on.”
A queer feeling began in the pit of Logan’s stomach, almost as if he were being pulled somewhere against his will, and he looked over at Veronica to find her frowning. The odd sensation seemed familiar somehow, although he couldn’t quite put a finger on it.
“I feel…strange…” Veronica said out loud, voice thickened and lethargic. “Logan….what’s going on?”
“Holy hezmana,” Rygel barked, goggling at the two of them like they were the ones who were two feet tall, green and slimy. “Do you see what I see?”
Logan’s pulse spiked as he read the fascinated fear slowly crossing everyone’s faces. “What?” he asked, then more demanding, “What!”
“Something’s happening,” Crichton informed them unnecessarily.
“No shit, Sherlock,” Logan grumbled, glancing down where his fingers held several food cubes. His mouth fell wide open. “Fuck me!”
Once again, his hand appeared to be bleeding into the table, molding into an unrecognizable object to his horrified eyes. He heard Veronica suck in a breath, and looked over to find her in a similarly awkward position.
“Logan?” she asked again, more shrilly. “Does this mean what I think it means?”
“You’re asking me?” he griped, eyes snapping back up to the others. “What do we…”
Zhaan’s eyes were closed, and she swayed back and forth, chanting in a low voice before breathing, “It is time for you to leave us.”
“Oh. Crap,” was John’s answer. Logan looked over to find his friend staring at him in absorption. His eyes filled with a keen sense of regret as Logan realized exactly what Zhaan meant.
“So soon?” Chiana whispered, tears gleaming within her black orbs. “No. It’s too soon.”
The others appeared similarly affected, but it was Veronica who seemed to be experiencing the largest upheaval of emotion. Her lips moved silently, her face white, and she gripped Logan’s free hand like a lifeline.
“I’m not sure if I’m…” she broke off, voice cracking. “What if we don’t…”
“Come with us,” Logan blurted out, staring straight at John. “This could be your way home, right? Come back with us.”
John smiled slightly, albeit sadly. “Not my Earth to return to.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Not to get into logistics…but I came through a wormhole,” Crichton explained quickly. “I caused whatever happened to me. You didn’t. This can’t be the way back for me. I just…I know it.”
An odd expression crossed his features then, as if he was listening to someone else in the room. No one else was speaking. Aeryn sent him a concerned look, but Crichton either didn’t notice, or pretended not to.
“Eat a Big Mac for me,” he threw out, voice a bit gruff as he made the request. Logan had to smile at the reference to his demand for McDonald’s the first day they’d been brought aboard Moya, and then the moment was interrupted by the sound of thunder echoing from the ceiling.
Logan looked up, to find the same strange slashing hole he’d witnessed during the thunderstorm the last time he and Veronica had been in Neptune. Veronica said something next to him, but he couldn’t understand her as they were suddenly catapulted upward, and sucked into the darkness.
***
Neptune, California.
Mother Earth.
Veronica awoke to the sensation of sunshine beating down on her face, and slowly opened her eyes. Bright light nearly blinded her, and she shifted her leg, slamming into something soft and fleshy.
“Ouch,” came a muffled voice, and her eyes flew open again to find herself staring down into Logan Echolls’ confused brown gaze. “Veronica?” he murmured, blinking up at her rapidly as Veronica continued to gape. “What the hell…”
An awkward moment ensued as Veronica struggled to climb out of Logan’s lap without coming into contact with any other sensitive areas. Sitting straight up again, she looked around in silence.
They were back in Neptune. That much was obvious. She stared at the restored yellow Xterra in something akin to shock, running her hands over the smooth interior while her brain struggled to catch up with her surroundings.
Then her eyes found the clock, and her throat dried. Only five minutes had passed between the time she and Logan had been sucked through the…whatever, and the time they’d come back. But they’d spent days on Moya…hadn’t they? Everything that had occurred seemed so vague now, misty and fleeting.
She caught Logan’s eye, and noted that he seemed troubled by something as well, but knowing Logan it could have just meant that he’d realized that he’d over-tipped the pizza delivery boy the night before.
God, what if it really had all been a dream?
She looked away, then back at Logan. “Did you…?”
“Do you get the feeling something…happened…” he started.
“Between us?” Veronica finished, her blood pressure starting to rise.
“Yeah.” Logan blinked, rubbing the back of his neck as if the area was sore. Then he laughed. “Veronica, I know this is gonna sound crazy, but…”
“I just had the weirdest dream,” they both spoke in unison. Veronica’s eyes snapped to Logan’s face, and his mouth fell open.
“Oh, my God,” Veronica mumbled, dropping her head into her hand. “Oh. My God.”
“Oh, my God,” Logan parroted. Then, “Veronica…?”
She closed her eyes briefly, then opened them and glanced over to find him staring at some unidentifiable object in the palm of his hand.
Frowning, she leaned across the gear console to get a better view, and nearly swallowed her own tongue.
Logan continued to stare at the disintegrating food cube, tipping his hand back and forth.
“Oh…frell.”
Finis.
***
For additional info pertaining to Farscape, and for the definition of various phrases found within this fic, please visit The Farscape Encyclopedia.
Author: keepaofthecheez
Pairing/Character: Logan/Veronica, slight John/Aeryn (Farscape)
Disclaimer: Don’t own. Don’t sue.
Rating: R for abstract sex
Word Count: 8, 037
Summary: Basically, all you need to know is that there is an omnipotent Company in charge of the smooth running of various universes/dimensions. What happens when two completely different dimensions collide? Prepare yourself for luscious men in leather, living ships, and a whole lot of dren.
Spoilers/Warnings: Everything up to The Quick and the Wed; general season 2 spoilers for Farscape. For those of you who have never seen Farscape, I’ll include a glossary at the end of the fic that will explain some of the terms used within this story.
Author’s Note: Okay. Basically, ladydisdain225 and I were talking about original modes of transportation that Logan and Veronica could “do it” on, and I threw out “a spaceship”, and crack was born.
Written for the “Planes, Trains and Automobiles” challenge over at loveathons.
Thanks to ladydisdain225 for the fantastic beta work and for brainstorming with me, and for reining me in when this fic would have turned into a lenghty diatribe about the quality of John Crichton’s physique. Also, thanks to shizam23 for mutual Crichton appreciation, and taken_with_you for reading and enjoying this when she has no clue about Farscape. Thanks to Ben Browder and Jason Dohring, who inspired an entirely new ship to come my way, and Claudia Black and Kristen Bell for being gorgeous and awesome.
This fic is dedicated to ladydisdain225, without whom it never would have seen the light of day.
Prologue through Part 2 found here.
Part 3
The Uncharted Territories, Deep Space.
Several solar days later.
Logan lost track of how long he and Veronica had been sequestered on the living spaceship. He’d done a well enough job of adapting; spending as much time as possible outside of his cell and interacting with the others.
The crazy things he’d seen in such a short time continued to baffle him. He’d met the blue-skinned Delvian priestess Zhaan, only later to be informed that she was actually a freaking plant. He’d longed for a few hits from Dick’s bong after that one.
He’d also been introduced to the helmet-head creature named Pilot, who not only helped operate Moya, but was apparently bonded to her so that he could read her thoughts and feel the emotions she experienced. Crichton had attempted to explain the covenant between Pilots and Leviathans, but he didn’t really seem to understand it anymore than Logan did.
Logan’s favorite thing to do when they were all together was to start humming the Mos Eisley Cantina theme, and it always succeeded in pissing off Aeryn and D’Argo, who complained that the noise hurt their ears. Rygel, on the other hand, compared the music to the lovely song of the forest creatures that inhabited his beloved Hyneria. Logan figured…whatever.
He worried about Veronica though.
Not only had she yet to give up the idea that everything they were experiencing was merely a figment of her imagination, but she’d closed herself off from everyone onboard. Even Logan. She opted to remain in their cell for hours - or “arns”, as the others termed them - on end, and only came out to eat.
She hadn’t even gone down with the rest of them to the commerce planets to get supplies and rations. Logan had tried to catch her interest by suggesting that they could try to find something besides the grotesque green food cubes to eat, which were dry and powdery and tasted more like chalk than the mixture of vital food groups they were supposed to represent. But Veronica had wanted none of it.
He looked up from the naked Sebacean girls cartridge Chiana had hooked him up with during their last off-ship expedition. As usual, Veronica was laying on her bed, staring up at the ceiling as if in a daze. He opted to make a few interesting sounds, thumbing the disc and pretending the images contained within weren’t basically the same old stuff he’d already seen back home.
She didn’t even blink. “If you and your hand are going to get friendly, would you mind taking it to another room? Thanks.”
He turned the cartridge off. “God, what the hell’s wrong with you? It’s been days, Veronica. Snap out of it.”
“I’m waiting for the REM sleep to wind down,” she answered blandly, lifting one knee up and extending it, stretching out the muscles.
Logan’s eyes traveled the length of her leg, and then he quickly shook his head. “Well, you’re freaking me out,” he grumbled, abruptly irritated with both of them. He hadn’t forgotten about the things he wanted to discuss with Veronica. He’d tried bringing their issues up several times, thinking that maybe a mention of home would help garner her attention long enough to break her out of whatever funk she’d placed herself in. But she’d only look at him, then look away.
“I think I’ll go see what Crichton and the others are doing,” he stated, tossing the nudie cartridge on his bed. “Not that you give a damn.”
Before she could answer, not that Logan really expected her to, the cell door slid open and Chiana slipped inside. She shot a quick glance at Veronica, then sent Logan a smile. “Hey…handsome. Whatcha doing?”
Logan stood, grinning, aware of Veronica’s silence behind them. For whatever reason, Veronica had taken an instant dislike to Chiana, which was odd considering all of Chiana’s character traits which were parallels to Lilly. Logan would have liked to think she was just plain jealous, but knew that was asking for way too much where Veronica Mars was concerned.
“I’m heading to the maintenance bay,” Chiana offered, sidling up to him with her usual catlike grace, circling around him and running a nail down the front of his chest. She spoke into his ear, rubbing her hips sinuously against his behind. “Wanna come help me measure some…fluids?”
Logan had been with plenty of sexually aggressive women, Kendall Casablancas in particular. But he’d never batted an eyelash at the things they’d suggest, much too jaded and cynical to be the least bit surprised. With Chiana…every word that came out of her mouth spoke of carnal delights he couldn’t even begin to fathom. He was as wary as he was tempted.
“Sure,” he answered, tossing back a look at Veronica, who had given up trying to pretend she wasn’t listening to the conversation, and was red-faced and glaring at both of them. A sudden, sick sense of hope - and possibly vengeance for all of the hell she’d put him through - filled him, and he caught Chi’s hand as it reached for the waistband of his jeans. “I’m good with fluids.”
A loud clearing of throat sounded behind them, and Logan looked over to find John watching the exchange with a fair amount of exasperation. “Chiana,” he drawled, the southern-bred charm thickening his voice, “you’re needed in command. If you can keep your damn hands to yourself, Logan, you can help me out in the bay.”
“You’re looking tense, Johnny,” Chiana teased, slinking around Logan and approaching the astronaut with obvious affection. “Aeryn being a pain in the eema?”
John simply smiled, although there was a hint of exhaustion in his eyes. “Bye, Chiana.”
“You human boys,” she pouted. “Looking for love in all the wrong places.”
She blew Logan a kiss, then was gone. Logan glanced up to find John eyeing him with an expression he couldn’t quite make out, and not for the first time he wondered exactly where the man’s affections lied. It was obvious that something was going on between him and the female solider, Aeryn, and it was equally obvious that she was being cold and awkward about it. Logan could relate pretty well. But there was also a strange sort of bond between Crichton and Chiana, and Logan was more intrigued than anything else.
“Let’s get a move on,” Crichton finally said. ‘That amnexus fluid don’t regulate itself.”
With one final look back at Veronica, who was back to studiously avoiding his gaze and staring at the ceiling, Logan shrugged and moved to follow Crichton. Lights flickered along Moya’s interior corridor and the yellow DRD’s, which Logan associated with the small robotic critters on Imperial Starships, skittered along the floor doing their repairs and surveillance.
They reached tier 3, headed into the maintenance bay and Logan whistled at the general size of the area. It wasn’t the first time he’d been inside, but it never failed to amaze him. Sparks flew from frayed electrical wiring, corroded pipes creaked and moaned, and vats of bubbling fluids rested against the walls.
“It’s a bit overwhelming, huh?” John surmised from the look on Logan’s face, grunting slightly as he lumbered over a crate of scrap metal. “Doesn’t get any easier, lemme tell ya.”
“How long have you been here?” Logan wondered, idly picking up random pieces of equipment and studying them.
“Long enough. Stop touching everything.”
Raising a brow, Logan put down the strange instrument and held up both hands. “Pardon moi.”
“And stay away from Chiana,” Crichton continued, sending Logan a narrowed look. “She’s in a vulnerable place right now. She just lost her brother, and she’s trying to hold onto anything and everything she can.”
“Including you?” Logan returned sarcastically. “Look, if you’re just warning me off of your girlfriend or whatever, fine. But don’t try and sugarcoat it like you’re looking out for her ‘well being’.”
Crichton’s face turned red, and he began to sputter, much to Logan’s amusement. Among the nonsensical babble were the words, “Not…girlfriend…”
“Ah, so it’s the chick with the leather fetish who’s got you strutting around like the cock of the walk,” Logan replied easily, having supposed as much already. “Nice. Although the psychotic soldier bitch thing doesn’t really do it for me, if you know what I mean.”
John just stared at him for a long moment, then broke down laughing. Tears were leaking from the corners of his eyes as he pointed at Logan and choked out, “You…if she heard you say that…”
Logan grew a little uneasy at that. He was actually a bit intimidated by Aeryn, which was more than slightly humiliating for a guy who refused to back down from anyone or anything. All the former Peacekeeper had to do was lift one brow, and Logan immediately found someone else to keep company.
“She is a little scary,” Logan agreed, sitting on one of the crates. “She seems to like you though.” He paused. “At least, she doesn’t curse everyone’s existence as much when you’re there.”
“Yeah, well, that changes daily. Stick around,” Crichton answered, a little testily. He turned and bent to check a vat of amnexus liquid, and Logan did a little drum ditty on the crate he was perched on.
“How’s Veronica?” John asked a moment later, sounding genuinely concerned. “We haven’t seen much of her.”
“Ver-on-i-ca,” Logan drew the name out, considering. “You won’t. She’s decided this is all her personal fantasy land, and she’s the most stubborn twit I know. She’ll hole herself up in there until things get back to normal. Veronica looooves normal.”
“I tried to talk to her the other day, and she tasered me.”
“That’s normal.”
“My fault for letting her keep the damn thing, I guess. Don’t know what I was thinking.”
Crichton had the same look on his face that Logan wore around Aeryn, and abruptly Logan broke out into a grin. “Women. I fucking love them, man.”
***
The Uncharted Territories, Deep Space.
Veronica’s personal fantasy land.
Logan still wasn’t back.
Veronica swung both feet over the edge of the bed, looking down at the floor as her hair hung around her face. She was starting to feel a little desperate, and she knew…there was no more denying that this entire nightmare was merely a dream. Honestly, she’d never really believed that to be the case to begin with, but she’d always dealt better through denial.
She was still steaming over Logan’s earlier interaction with that sleazy Chiana, and furiously wondered if the two were off somewhere “recreating”, as she’d heard Aeryn Sun refer to sex as on more than one occasion. The others never thought she was listening, so they rarely bothered to censor themselves around her. As if they would have anyway.
She’d witnessed quite a few scandalous encounters between Crichton and Aeryn since she’d been aboard Moya, and she could say with authority that she’d never seen a more misguided and horny pair as those two. Except, perhaps her and Logan. Although she so wasn’t ready to go there.
Maybe she was experiencing some sort of tragic sexual dementia. Or maybe it was watching John and Aeryn tiptoe around each other like two wild animals ready to pounce and lick the other’s skin off, but whatever it was, she was being affected. And she wasn’t at all sure that she liked it.
It didn’t help matters that she’d never been able to get rid of the sexual chemistry that sizzled between her and Logan. She could think he was the lowest scum at the bottom of the barrel, and often did, but that didn’t mean that she didn’t want to slurp him right up…
She shook her head quickly. “Okay, something is so seriously wrong with me.”
“Ah, she speaks.”
Veronica looked over sharply, and found Aeryn watching her with dry amusement. She stood, reaching in her pocket for the taser, then realized that Aeryn was holding some kind of pistol on her.
“It was amusing when you electrocuted D’Argo and Crichton, but I can assure you. You won’t be getting me without getting some yourself.”
Veronica lifted a brow, but acknowledged the truth with a subtle smile. She studied the other woman curiously, then lowered her hand to her side. “Where’s Logan?”
“I came to check and make sure you hadn’t cacked it. I don’t know where your little recreation buddy is.”
“Logan is not my recreation buddy, Xena,” Veronica seethed, crossing her arms and spreading both feet wide, wishing she had more than five-feet to work with.
“Right,” Aeryn answered, obviously disbelieving. “Well, here’s your portion of the rations. I had to wrestle them away from Rygel, so a few might be...”
Veronica stared down at the proffered platter of food cubes, many which were bearing teeth-marks, and grimaced. “Well, as long as you didn’t go to any trouble,” she replied with false sweetness.
Aeryn smiled then. “You really did electrocute Crichton, didn’t you?”
“I woke up and he was hovering over me,” Veronica claimed defensively. “It was purely reactionary.”
“Might I borrow that…taser?” Aeryn asked, testing the word out on her tongue. “There are times when I wouldn’t mind ‘reacting’ to Crichton, and a pulse pistol is so messy.”
Unable to help herself, Veronica grinned. “If it’s for a worthy cause.”
The two women smiled at each other, and then Veronica bit her lip. “So you and Crichton are…?”
Aeryn looked instantly uncomfortable, and Veronica wished she could have taken the words back. For the first time, she was feeling something of a camaraderie with someone on the ship, and she had to blow it by being…well, Veronica. Nosy, wannabe detective extraordinaire.
“Never mind,” she said quickly, but was interrupted by Aeryn, who blurted out, “I don’t…Crichton is so….”
Veronica remained silent as Aeryn began pacing the interior of the cell absently. “Crichton is so…Crichton,” Aeryn concluded, as if that should explain it all. Veronica glanced around, then nodded solemnly.
“I can see that.”
“He wears his frelling sleeve on his heart, but he’s so hard to read sometimes,” Aeryn continued ranting, and Veronica muffled a snort at the misuse of the phrase. “All my life, I’ve been trained…a soldier doesn’t show emotion. You’d think he’d understand, but he’s Crichton.”
“So you’ve said.” Veronica tilted her head slightly, studying the frustrated woman with sympathy. “You’re totally in love with him, huh?”
Aeryn didn’t reply, just stared at Veronica with a hopeless expression that should have been amusing, had Veronica not understood the emotion so well herself.
“He is a hottie,” Veronica ventured, hoping to lighten the mood.
“Hottie?” Aeryn echoed, frowning.
“Ah, it’s an…Earth…term,” Veronica squirmed, feeling ridiculous. God, if Neptune High could see her now…discussing different euphemisms for gorgeous men with a freaking alien. “Hot, sexy, prime Grade A man-meat?”
“Ah. You mean he’s freslish,” Aeryn nodded. Then glared. “Yes, he is. The bastard.”
“I get you,” Veronica sighed, leaning against the wall and closing her eyes. “You should be able to control them, because they’re absolute morons, but somehow, they keep scoring the points.”
“Who is the man who makes you feel this?” Aeryn queried, and Veronica’s eyes popped back open.
“N-No one,” she quickly assured her, heart racing. For God’s sake, there was no denying the face she’d been imagining when she’d spoken those words to Aeryn, and the image wasn’t the boy she’d spent half of her life pining over in some shape or form. She hadn’t thought of Duncan in days.
Aeryn’s expression said she wasn’t buying it, and Veronica knew it. “I see you’ve stopped pretending that none of this is really happening to you, Veronica,” she stated, giving Veronica’s name a beautifully exotic lilt on her foreign tongue. “Maybe it’s time you stopped pretending about other things as well.”
“Hello pot, meet kettle,” Veronica sneered, but Aeryn was already halfway down the hall. She fumed in silence, wanting to give into the childish urge to stomp her feet and stick her tongue out at the place where Aeryn had been.
But Aeryn was right. And that was probably what pissed her off the most. She’d had plenty of time since they’d been aboard Moya, hell, since Logan’s trial back in Neptune, to sort out her true feelings regarding the men in her life. To determine why it upset her so much to see Logan using the pretty sophomore Hannah Griffith to clear his name.
Sure, some of it had been honest-to-God disappointment. But a larger, more selfish portion had been cold envy. That he’d go to someone else, use someone else - and himself in the process - instead of coming to her. Then, she was immediately reminded of the many times he’d come to her, only to face the heat of her anger and derision.
Whereas Duncan…
Veronica closed her eyes in pain, reliving the last time she’d seen the boy she’d always assumed she’d love forever. Seated on the witness stand during the Felix Toombs murder trial, sporting a full growth of beard from his time spent hiding in Mexico. Lilly in the arms of Jake Kane, as Duncan had stonily testified against Logan, avoiding Cliff’s eyes. Claiming that Logan had told him, in full, the details of that horrible night on the bridge. Twisting the truth.
Veronica had watched the proceedings in absolute horror and had happened to glance over to where Logan sat, white-faced and shaking. The betrayal evident in his features still haunted her, as did the events which had happened after. Watching Cliff tear Duncan apart on the stand had validated Logan in the end, but it had destroyed everything Veronica had ever held dear. Everything she had ever allowed herself to believe in.
The truth had come out. Duncan’s deal with the Fitzpatricks’ to dispose of both Felix, who had grown a little too interested in the Fitzpatricks’ drug ring, and Logan, who had grown a little too interested in Veronica. Like killing two birds with one stone, Duncan had finally admitted through tears of hysteria. The trial had ended when he’d fallen into a seizure and lunged for Logan, and Veronica had been unable to do anything but stand by, choked and aghast.
Later it had come out that Duncan had been behind the shooting of Logan’s Xterra during the summer. While he hadn’t pulled the trigger, those who had had been only too happy to turn in the heir to the Kane fortune when his arrest had been announced. For the promise of lesser sentences, of course.
And the dirt had continued to roll in…
Veronica shook off the memories, the taste of salt lingering on her lip as she reached up to wipe away tears that she hadn’t even realized had been falling. She took a moment to compose herself, then moved to follow Aeryn. Leaving her cell for the first time in days, she was a tad disoriented, and it took her a few minutes to recall the direction she wanted to take.
Logan didn’t know, but she’d often left the cell during the night while the others were sleeping to take in her surroundings and search for some kind of reassurance that she was, in fact, dreaming. It was during one of these night-flights that she’d come across John and Aeryn in the hangar bay. Veronica had thought about making her presence known for only a split-second before the sounds of panting and sexual excitement had reached her ears, and she’d frozen in momentary disbelief.
Unable to deny her instinctive curiosity, she’d peeked around the array of transport modules to discover a sight that would forever be burned in her mind. John Crichton, back to her and completely naked, had Aeryn up against the side of Aeryn’s Prowler and was systematically thrusting into her over and again. Aeryn’s head was thrown back, a look of uninhibited bliss occupying her features that was so at odds with the suspicion that normally colored her expression from day-to-day.
Veronica didn’t know how long she’d stood there, staring at the muscles in Crichton’s buttocks flex, but when she’d finally broken out of her daze and gone back to her cell, she’d lain awake for the rest of the night. Listening to the sounds of Logan breathing on the opposite side of the room. Wondering… about him and if he'd ever taken a woman like that. If the woman had worn that same expression as Aeryn, and what Logan’s might have looked like in turn.
Sexual space dementia, here she came.
It was then that she caught a flash of gray in the corner of her eye, and she spun around to glimpse Chiana disappearing inside one of the empty quarters. Blood and jealousy bubbling, Veronica changed course and stormed over to the cell in question, pounding on the door and gritting her teeth.
So help Logan if he was in there…
Chiana appeared a minute later, gleaming with sweat and flushed from head to toe, turning her gray flesh a mottled color. She twitched her head at Veronica. “What?”
“Where’s Logan?” Veronica managed, not needing a rocket scientist to explain to her that Chiana had been previously partaking in extracurricular activities better left unmentioned.
Chiana appeared taken aback by the venom in her voice, then smiled. “Lose him already?” she purred, turning her back on Veronica and dropping the shoulder of her clothing. Sliding the other down as well, she threw back, “Last time I saw him, he was enjoying himself completely. Don’t worry about it.”
Veronica titled her own head, offering Chiana a sugary-sweet smile. “Honey, the only thing he was enjoying was the easy accessibility.”
Chiana turned around, an expression of confusion highlighting her features. Then, “Oh, I see. You don’t want him, but you don’t want anyone else to have him either. Tough dren.”
“Where is he?” Veronica demanded again, fingers curling into her palm.
“I don’t frelling know,” Chiana griped, spinning around and sending Veronica a disgusted look. “He’s not my narl. I don’t have to watch out for him. If you want to, that’s drad, but do it somewhere else, all right?”
Without another word, Veronica spun on her heel and started for the command, completely missing the satisfied, amused smile that lifted Chiana’s lips.
***
Part Four
The Uncharted Territories, Deep Space.
The Hangar Bay. Yes, that hangar bay…
“Fuck!”
“See, you’re doing it too hard. Ease up on the tension just a tad.”
Logan grunted in compliance, squatting and maneuvering the instrument up inside the engine with less force than before. “That sounded kinda gay,” he pointed out, catching Crichton’s eye.
John rolled his neck, and his eyes. “You wish, Pretty Boy.”
A beep sounded, then John’s comms crackled and Aeryn’s annoyed voice snapped, “Crichton, get your ass up here. Now.”
Logan’s brows lifted, and he began whistling an ominous tune while Crichton shot him an irritated look. “What’d you do to piss off the Missus this time, Crichton?”
“Eat me,” was John’s response as he came to his feet and stared down at the floor for a minute. “Crap. What the hell did I do now?”
He left and Logan stared at his Xterra a bit forlornly. For a moment he wondered what Veronica might be up to, and then dismissed the silly idea. It wasn’t like she was thinking about him, anyway.
He worked for a few more minutes in silence, doing everything that Crichton had suggested to get the Xterra up and running again. Not that Logan had any idea what he’d do once it was. It was just something to keep him from going crazy with what-ifs, he supposed. Like….what if they never figured out how to get back to Neptune? John Crichton was a fucking astronaut and hecouldn’t figure it out. How the hell were two high school students going to get back? And they had to, before Veronica slipped even further away, away from her sanity. Away from him.
Sighing heavily, he peeled off his shirt and slung it over one shoulder, eyeing the mess before him with faraway eyes. He was so intent on not thinking about Veronica, that he completely missed the fact that he was no longer alone in the hangar.
A petite shadow fell at his feet seconds before he found himself shoved up against the side of the Xterra, the tool in his hand making a clanging echo in the bay as it fell to the ground. “What the frell?” he shouted, not even realizing that he’d fallen back on the Sebacean expletive.
He spun around to find Veronica glaring at him, five-feet of bristling, blonde female. He blinked once, twice. Then, “What the hell are you doing here?”
Her eyes took in his half-nakedness, and if possible, she grew even more upset “Not expecting me, were you? Well, that’s pretty obvious.”
Logan could only stare. “Are you feeling all right?”
“Of course I’m not feeling all right!” she bellowed, and he actually flinched as the sound was thrown back at him two-fold by the rafters and walls. “I haven’t been all right since we ended up in this godforsaken place, Logan! What I don’t understand is how you’re having such a grand old time.”
“Well, it’s not like my life was all sunshine and roses back on Earth,” he pointed out a little sarcastically. “What the hell, a spaceship. I can dig it. For now.”
It was her turn to appear baffled. “Do you even hear how ridiculous this conversation is?”
“Veronica, when are you going to wake up and realize that you aren’t dreaming?” Logan cried out in exasperation. “For the love of…you’ve pinched yourself so many times you have bruises, and I’ve seen you dumping buckets of cold water on yourself in the morning. You’re gonna have to accept it, okay? We’re here, maybe indefinitely. Pretending otherwise isn’t helping anything.”
“You just don’t understand,” she beseeched, but Logan cut her off with a single gesture.
“No, I never understand you. That’s the fucking truth.” He stared at her for a long moment, then continued, “I’m gonna go back to fixing this damn thing, and we can argue about this later. Right now, I’d rather cut my head off and impale it on a telephone pole than fight with you. I’m hot, and tired, and I just wanna finish here.”
Veronica remained silent for several seconds, hands clenched into fists. Then, she thrust her chin up with adamant purpose. “All right, kiss me.”
He froze, slowly turning back to gape at her. “Excuse me?”
She cocked a brow, hands on her hips. “Prove this isn’t a dream, Logan. Plant one on me, right here.” She tapped her lips with an index finger, eyes challenging.
“Yeah, you’re definitely on something,” he laughed unsteadily. “Look, I’ll catch you later and-”
“Don’t tell me you’re too chicken, Logan. It’s just a little kiss.”
“I am not chicken,” he bit off, taking a step forward to poke her in the chest. “You hardly scare me, Mars.”
She only smirked and tilted her head, obviously not believing him.
He laughed, leaning back and crossing his arms. “I think you’ve got cabin fever. You’re acting insane, you know that, right?”
“Oh, forget it,” she snapped. “God, I’ll be in our ‘quarters’, counting sheep.”
Logan caught her elbow as she spun around, and dragged her up to her toes. He held her surprised gaze for a split-second, and then covered her mouth with his own. She threw her arms around him, lips and tongue meeting his in a wild frenzy he could hardly keep up with.
“Fuck,” he managed, taking her face between his hands and tilting her head to better take her mouth. Her leg curled around his waist, and suddenly everything was hotter, wetter, and deeper than before. His hands slid beneath her shirt and yanked it over her head.
She was breathing rapidly, excitedly, eyes gleaming with a glazed sort of pleasure that both intoxicated and frightened him. He paused, palms spread below her ribcage and whispered, “What the hell are we doing, Veronica?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted, searching his expression. “But…”
“I think this proves you aren’t dreaming,” Logan stated unnecessarily. “I doubt you have dreams this sexy about me.” He couldn’t hold back the flavor of bitterness residing on his tongue.
She was quiet for so long that his skin began to crawl. Then, in a voice so dry and glib that it was the only thing she could have done to reassure him, she said, “So, it’s a nightmare. Kiss me again.”
A smile broke out over his features. “So, does this mean you don’t hate me anymore?”
“I never said that,” she said sweetly, fingers nimbly undoing his belt as she stared up at him.
“God, you’re stubborn.”
“Logan.” Her voice was pointed, and sardonic. “I’m giving you a green-light here. Don’t wait for it to turn yellow, okay?”
“Bossy, too,” he added, voice catching on a groan when she leaned up and snagged his earlobe with her teeth. “You know, I think you really do like me.”
“Take your pants off.”
His eyes popped open. “Whoa. What? What?”
“Am I not doing this right?” she whispered, fingers fumbling. Logan stared down at her and glimpsed frustrated tears shining in her eyes.
“Veronica,” Logan started slowly, wanting to choose his words with care. “Exactly…what are you trying to do here?”
Jaw thrust out at a stubborn degree, she stared up at him with furious and embarrassed eyes. “Don’t be stupid,” she said through clenched teeth.
“Yeah, I feel a little stupid right now,” Logan admitted, giving a small laugh as he scratched his head. “I mean, you’ve been out of it for days, and hated me for months before that. Now you’re…well…I can see your bra, Veronica.”
Her implacable expression remained, but he thought he saw her lips twitch slightly. “You really are a moron. Do I have to spell it out for you?”
“Veronica. You had me at ‘take off your pants’,” Logan whispered patiently, breaking into soft chuckles that grew in volume when she reached out a fist and slugged him none-too-gently on the shoulder.
Their lips met again, hungrily, and then Logan caught her hips and pulled her up. She wrapped her legs around his waist, curling her arms around his neck and easing her tongue into his mouth. Rivulets of sweat coursed down his back, gathering at the base of his spine as he spun them around and rested her against the Xterra.
His hips pressed against hers as he worked on the clasp to her bra, eating at her mouth and relishing every choked moan that escaped her throat. When he finally had her breasts in hand, he dragged his lips away from her mouth and closed them over a nipple. She jumped, fingers gripping his hair, then she relaxed against him.
“Ohmygod,” she crooned, pleasant surprise coloring her voice. “Wow, that’s…”
“Fucking hot,” he finished, blowing across the wet skin, watching goose bumps dance across her flesh. “Hold still.”
“I…can’t,” she admitted, squirming delightfully against his cock as he gritted his teeth and fought against the urge to fuck it all, and her.
“You’re gonna have to,” he begged, dropping his hands to her bottom and squeezing. “Otherwise…”
“God, it’s hot in here.”
“Veronica, look at me,” he said, voice thrumming and intense. His fingers played at the seam between her legs, tracing the denim there with gentle pressure. When she finally focused glazed eyes on his, he slowly lowered her legs from around his waist, keeping one hand between her thighs as he used his other to work her zipper down. Tugging the jeans and her underwear down her hips, he slid both palms back up her thighs and levered her up as he came to his knees.
Her sharp intake of breath clued him in that she knew exactly what he was about to do. It took him a minute to remember that she was no longer the same innocent-for-all-intents-and-purposes Veronica that she’d been during the summer they’d dated and messed around. She’d had a steady boyfriend, and a supposedly healthy sexual relationship. With Duncan.
It took him a moment to realize she was calling his name. He blinked, looking up to find her watching him with confused, heavy-lidded eyes. “Sorry, what?” he asked, voice hoarse.
“You don’t have to do this,” she began unsteadily, a deep flush coloring her cheeks.
He stared at her for a long moment. “No, I don’t.” Then he leaned forward and kissed her between her legs, allowing the tip of his tongue a small lick as he retreated. Her thighs jerked, then instinctively clamped around his shoulders.
“Logan…”
He slid forward, supporting her body as he pleasured her, giving careful attention to all of the secret places he knew would bring her what she wanted. If this was truly the only thing he was good for, he’d knock it outta the park.
She bucked and moaned against his mouth, tormenting his cock, while at the same time, assuaging his ego. Without warning, he stopped his tender ministrations and came to his feet and burying his face in her neck.
Her fingers slid inside his half-unzipped pants, searching. His entire body stiffened, and then mellowed as she closed around him. His breath came out on a ragged moan, lips dropping kisses along her naked shoulder. “That feels good…” he managed, which was a complete understatement.
“Aeryn gave me something…” she began, licking her lips. “It’s….supposed to prevent anything from happening if we…”
He raised his head to look at her. Voice thready with self-control, he asked, “You went to Aeryn for birth control?”
She nodded.
He groaned. “Oh God, Aeryn? Why didn’t you just ask Chiana?”
He immediately felt Veronica close off. “Why should I have gone to Chiana?” she wondered, a tad testily.
He blinked. “Becaaaaause, she has like, a PhD in sex?”
Veronica glared at him. “And has the good doctor made any house calls, Logan?”
He cocked his head. “You’re jealous of Chiana. That’s adorable.”
She made a growling sound, and Logan braced himself for an attack. To his complete surprise, she yanked his pants down in one fell swoop. She kissed him again, her body sliding sinuously against his own, perspiration dotting their flesh. As if in slow motion, Logan found himself lifting her up against the Xterra, and sinking slowly inside of her body.
They both groaned, long and low, and Logan clamped his teeth down over her shoulder as Veronica’s head lolled against him. He paused a moment to regain his bearings, then drove in again. Sweat stung his eyes.
The idea that anyone on Moya could walk in on them at any moment was more exhilarating than it should have been. Logan had never been an exhibitionist, but he hadn’t once spoken up to tell Veronica that it was possible that someone could discover them.
“Oh God…” she gasped, going ramrod stiff for a split-second before she began to tremble with pleasure. Logan growled deep in his chest, surrendering to his own climax and resting his forearms against the Xterra on either side of Veronica’s head. His hips rubbed gently against her, drawing out the pleasure of the moment for as long as possible.
They rested there, recovering for long moments as occasional beeps from the DRD’s on patrol marked the time. Logan finally lifted his head, swallowing thickly before he met Veronica’s slumberous gaze.
“So…was that good for you?”
***
Part Five
The Uncharted Territories, Deep Space.
A not-so-dank-and-torturous-living-quarters.
Veronica could feel his eyes on her, and struggled to keep from looking up. As it was, a blush had formed on her cheeks and refused to go away since they’d left the hangar bay. She wasn’t…embarrassed, so much. She just couldn’t help but wonder what was going through Logan’s mind at the moment.
She’d gone out on a limb to let him know how much she wanted to be with him, and it had cost her a tiny amount of her pride that she’d been loathe to give up. She was equal parts relieved and surprised that he’d gone along with the entire thing. She knew things were far from reconciled between them, and God only knew they had ample things to discuss…but she couldn’t wipe the silly grin off of her face for anything. It was…it was a start. That was all.
“So.” His voice was a mild drawl, and she jumped in surprise. Glancing over, she found him reclining on his elbows, studying her intensely. “Are we gonna talk about it?”
“Of course we’re going to talk about it,” she answered, adding a little spark to her tone as he cocked a brow. “Just…not right now.”
“Why not?”
Someone pounded on the door, and Crichton’s voice yelled, “Yo! Grub’s ready!”
Veronica sent Logan a pointed expression, then stood up to stretch her arms over her head. “That’s why.”
“They probably already know,” Logan grumbled, moving to join her. “You did go to Aeryn for whatever-the-hell earlier.”
“But she thought I wanted it for D’Argo,” Veronica answered blithely, grinning widely as Logan tripped and made a sputtering sound. “Gotcha.”
“You’re beyond evil, Mars.”
“So they tell me.”
They walked down the corridor together, and then Logan’s fingers slid between hers. She shot him a quick look, but he continued staring straight ahead. A small smile curving her lips, Veronica looked back up in time to find Crichton watching them with a smile of his own.
“Bon appetite,” he offered, giving an exaggerated wave to where the platters of food cubes resided on the dining table. Veronica resisted the urge to snort, picking up one of the food cubes and biting a chunk off. Strangely, it tasted better than it ever had before.
“I did nothing of the sort,” Chiana’s voice carried from the opposite corridor, and Veronica glanced up as the female alien pranced into the room, D’Argo close on her heels. “I just gave her a little push, that’s all.”
She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw Veronica, and Veronica smiled sweetly in return, immediately guessing the truth behind the earlier scene between them. Chiana smiled hesitantly, eyes flying to Logan, who was hovering over Veronica while speaking with Crichton, and she offered Veronica a sassy wink. Veronica’s smile immediately warmed.
Rygel zoomed by on his floating throne, and stole the food cube out of Veronica’s fingers. Aeryn caught the creature as he headed for his spot at the table, and she wrestled the cube away from him while threatening to do something with her pulse pistol that Veronica couldn’t quite catch.
As the others all appeared and took their places, laughing and joking over the day’s events, Veronica truly relaxed for the first time in a long while. Odd as it was that it had taken being stranded in an alien refugee camp for her to actually feel at home again, she wasn’t about to question the situation. She wished her father and Wallace could have been there to make the experience complete, but came to the bittersweet realization that it might never be possible.
“Hey, Logan, ask your girlfriend to pass the dessert,” Crichton cracked around a mouthful of food cubes.
“Ask her yourself,” Logan threw back, reaching across the table to snag another block of ‘dessert cubes’ for himself. He threw a glance at Veronica upon the mention of ‘girlfriend’, but when she didn’t react negatively, he relaxed and sat back in his seat.
“No way. She scares me,” John returned, fingering the area of his ribs where Veronica had tasered him the previous day. He sent her a playful look to which she fluttered her lashes innocently.
“I’ll tell you what is truly frightening,” Rygel began superciliously, but John threw an arm around him and used his hand as a muzzle.
“No one cares, Buckwheat.”
Veronica found herself laughing, and caught Logan’s eyes. They exchanged a small smile as their hands found one another beneath the privacy of the table.
***
The middle of Somewhere, on the edge of Someplace.
“I think we’re nearly finished, sir.”
“Well, la di da. It only took all night, as predicted.”
“Cross-dimensional collision stabilizing. All access portals detangling in five, four, three, two…”
“Sorry about the mess, boss.”
“Ah, it happens all the time. Next time, just try not to fall asleep on night shift. These universes can’t run themselves.”
“Good thing, too, or we’d be out of a job.”
“Sometimes, I long for retirement.”
***
The Uncharted Territories, Deep Space.
Logan’s stomach hurt from laughter as he listened to Chiana describe an event that had occurred during a youthful trip to what she’d assumed to be an uninhabited planet, but was really an illegal free-for-all orgy colony. The look on Veronica’s and Crichton’s faces as Chiana explained some of the more intimate details nearly made him lose it right then and there.
“That’s definitely…illegal,” Veronica agreed, brows reaching the top of her forehead, as John simply sat there and gaped. Logan nudged her shoulder and she shot him a quick look that he couldn’t quite read.
Things weren’t exactly perfect now, but for the first time he felt that maybe they could be. They’d gone through a complete shitstorm over the past two years, and a lot of the problems could be laid directly at their own feet. It had taken getting sucked out of their own world and planted on the deep space version of Gilligan’s Island to make them finally reach out to one another, but it was better than nothing.
He was actually, God forbid, looking forward to having an actual conversation with Veronica Mars later that night. One that didn’t involve name-calling and hiding the truth. A conversation that would hopefully heal some wounds and open some doors.
He opened his mouth to contribute to the conversation, when Moya suddenly careened forward, sending everyone toppling over one another as screams and shouting filled the air.
“Pilot? What the hell’s going on down there?” Crichton hollered, picking himself up from on top of Zhaan. “Pilot!”
“I’m….sorry, Commander,” Pilot’s languid voice filled the comms devices. “I cannot…pick up any disturbances on Moya’s…tracking. We’re unsure as of yet….what caused the trouble.”
“Wonderful,” Crichton replied ironically. “What a new concept. We don’t know what’s going on.”
A queer feeling began in the pit of Logan’s stomach, almost as if he were being pulled somewhere against his will, and he looked over at Veronica to find her frowning. The odd sensation seemed familiar somehow, although he couldn’t quite put a finger on it.
“I feel…strange…” Veronica said out loud, voice thickened and lethargic. “Logan….what’s going on?”
“Holy hezmana,” Rygel barked, goggling at the two of them like they were the ones who were two feet tall, green and slimy. “Do you see what I see?”
Logan’s pulse spiked as he read the fascinated fear slowly crossing everyone’s faces. “What?” he asked, then more demanding, “What!”
“Something’s happening,” Crichton informed them unnecessarily.
“No shit, Sherlock,” Logan grumbled, glancing down where his fingers held several food cubes. His mouth fell wide open. “Fuck me!”
Once again, his hand appeared to be bleeding into the table, molding into an unrecognizable object to his horrified eyes. He heard Veronica suck in a breath, and looked over to find her in a similarly awkward position.
“Logan?” she asked again, more shrilly. “Does this mean what I think it means?”
“You’re asking me?” he griped, eyes snapping back up to the others. “What do we…”
Zhaan’s eyes were closed, and she swayed back and forth, chanting in a low voice before breathing, “It is time for you to leave us.”
“Oh. Crap,” was John’s answer. Logan looked over to find his friend staring at him in absorption. His eyes filled with a keen sense of regret as Logan realized exactly what Zhaan meant.
“So soon?” Chiana whispered, tears gleaming within her black orbs. “No. It’s too soon.”
The others appeared similarly affected, but it was Veronica who seemed to be experiencing the largest upheaval of emotion. Her lips moved silently, her face white, and she gripped Logan’s free hand like a lifeline.
“I’m not sure if I’m…” she broke off, voice cracking. “What if we don’t…”
“Come with us,” Logan blurted out, staring straight at John. “This could be your way home, right? Come back with us.”
John smiled slightly, albeit sadly. “Not my Earth to return to.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Not to get into logistics…but I came through a wormhole,” Crichton explained quickly. “I caused whatever happened to me. You didn’t. This can’t be the way back for me. I just…I know it.”
An odd expression crossed his features then, as if he was listening to someone else in the room. No one else was speaking. Aeryn sent him a concerned look, but Crichton either didn’t notice, or pretended not to.
“Eat a Big Mac for me,” he threw out, voice a bit gruff as he made the request. Logan had to smile at the reference to his demand for McDonald’s the first day they’d been brought aboard Moya, and then the moment was interrupted by the sound of thunder echoing from the ceiling.
Logan looked up, to find the same strange slashing hole he’d witnessed during the thunderstorm the last time he and Veronica had been in Neptune. Veronica said something next to him, but he couldn’t understand her as they were suddenly catapulted upward, and sucked into the darkness.
***
Neptune, California.
Mother Earth.
Veronica awoke to the sensation of sunshine beating down on her face, and slowly opened her eyes. Bright light nearly blinded her, and she shifted her leg, slamming into something soft and fleshy.
“Ouch,” came a muffled voice, and her eyes flew open again to find herself staring down into Logan Echolls’ confused brown gaze. “Veronica?” he murmured, blinking up at her rapidly as Veronica continued to gape. “What the hell…”
An awkward moment ensued as Veronica struggled to climb out of Logan’s lap without coming into contact with any other sensitive areas. Sitting straight up again, she looked around in silence.
They were back in Neptune. That much was obvious. She stared at the restored yellow Xterra in something akin to shock, running her hands over the smooth interior while her brain struggled to catch up with her surroundings.
Then her eyes found the clock, and her throat dried. Only five minutes had passed between the time she and Logan had been sucked through the…whatever, and the time they’d come back. But they’d spent days on Moya…hadn’t they? Everything that had occurred seemed so vague now, misty and fleeting.
She caught Logan’s eye, and noted that he seemed troubled by something as well, but knowing Logan it could have just meant that he’d realized that he’d over-tipped the pizza delivery boy the night before.
God, what if it really had all been a dream?
She looked away, then back at Logan. “Did you…?”
“Do you get the feeling something…happened…” he started.
“Between us?” Veronica finished, her blood pressure starting to rise.
“Yeah.” Logan blinked, rubbing the back of his neck as if the area was sore. Then he laughed. “Veronica, I know this is gonna sound crazy, but…”
“I just had the weirdest dream,” they both spoke in unison. Veronica’s eyes snapped to Logan’s face, and his mouth fell open.
“Oh, my God,” Veronica mumbled, dropping her head into her hand. “Oh. My God.”
“Oh, my God,” Logan parroted. Then, “Veronica…?”
She closed her eyes briefly, then opened them and glanced over to find him staring at some unidentifiable object in the palm of his hand.
Frowning, she leaned across the gear console to get a better view, and nearly swallowed her own tongue.
Logan continued to stare at the disintegrating food cube, tipping his hand back and forth.
“Oh…frell.”
Finis.
***
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