Fic: Remix (Chapter Two)
Title: Remix
Fandom: Veronica Mars
Rating: NC17
Summary: Veronica, Eli and Logan; high school's long over, but everyone's still got secrets.
Warn: General deviance. Dark themes. Author meets futurefic format, gets it liquored up, and takes advantage.
***
Eli sits now in the curtained darkness of Saturday afternoon. He finishes his cigarette and watches the digital clock blink over to 4:01 pm.
Veronica and Logan are still asleep.
His head is throbbing, but maybe not as bad as he deserves. Maybe it's a side benefit of the expensive booze. Quietly as he can, he stands and exits the bedroom, finds the rest of his clothes in the sitting room. Then he spots another door leading off the opposite direction, and he's not surprised to find it leads to another bedroom and another bathroom. This place is bigger than his apartment.
He decides it'll be easier to deal with reality if he has a shower first; this bathroom's a mirror image of the other one, same huge shower, and it's not a tough decision to make. He'll take a quick shower, then go downstairs and have the concierge call him a cab.
It's one of those hotels where they have every personal item you could ever need, all laid out in little sealed packets, and he chases two aspirin with an entire bottle of water and brushes his teeth while the shower gets hot.
Then he strips back down, gets into the shower and stands there a while, eyes closed, letting the hot water blast his sore muscles and get his blood circulating again. After about five minutes the pounding in his head starts to recede, and he decides that he's going to live, especially if there's coffee somewhere in the near future.
"Want some company?"
Female voice. His eyes snap open and he wipes water away from them.
Veronica. Standing there in a robe. Her blond hair is mussed and she looks sleepy; but her knowing grin is there, just like always. Checking him out through the glass walls of the shower, not bothering to pretend otherwise.
Eli mumbles something, it's supposed to be "Sure," but he has no idea what he actually said; Veronica unties the robe and slips it off her shoulders, lets it fall around her ankles. Naked, she pulls open the glass door and steps nimbly into the shower with him.
He moves to one side, sharing the water spray, because what the hell else is he supposed to do?
Besides, she looked cold.
They stare at each other, and finally he says, "Uh, I can leave..."
But Veronica laughs and moves closer to him, naked and all wet now, hair slicked back and dripping. "Is that what you want? I didn't mean to chase you away."
Sober now, this is a whole different game, and he's honestly not sure what he wants.
So he gets to the thing that's been nagging at him since he woke up:
He says, low as he can speak and still be heard above the shower spray, "Logan know that last night wasn't exactly the first time for us?"
Veronica says, "I wasn't even sure you remembered."
"Come on, V. Does he know or not?"
Graduation night, they'd run into each other at Lilly's memorial fountain. Not drunk like last night; just lonely, both of them. And they'd ended up back at his house, in his bedroom.
And she was gone the next morning. And never did return any of his calls after that. He'd never realized, till just now, how angry he still was about it.
But Veronica says, "Everyone's got their little secrets. Including Logan."
Which is still no answer at all. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means--there's a wet, naked girl in the shower with you and you want to have some big conversation about it?"
She's got a point.
He moves closer to her. She reaches for him.
And her mouth is even warmer than the steam around them.
He doesn't really remember what it was like, that night so long ago. It wasn't that it was bad, it just wasn't right somehow, and Veronica'd been willing but not what you'd call real vocal about what she wanted. And even quieter after. With the perspective of age, he realizes now that she'd just been a typical, inexperienced teenage girl.
Last night was different. Much. And drunk as he was, he remembers lots of things about it, little pieces of information that tend to stay with you.
Like the fact that Veronica likes her kissing rough. But a softer touch, elsewhere, really puts her over the edge, makes her crazy. A little frustration goes a long way with her. His hands remember. His mouth does. Hard and soft, hard and soft.
She moans, and it echoes all through the bathroom. Hard to care about the noise, though, when her hands are on him and she's obviously remembered some little details herself.
Last night he'd been wasted and it had been pretty good; today he's stone cold sober and it's beyond good. Like the alcohol had made him too numb to really appreciate things last night, like it had been a little too frantic and blurry and confused. There's something to be said for taking your time, and for using a little more finesse; he's known that since he was fifteen.
Another insistent moan from her. Eli's quads are still sore, but Veronica's small, and she holds on tight to him as he gets her up against the tiled back wall of the shower.
This is a bad idea, bad idea, bad idea, goes the chorus in his head. Until finally Veronica digs her fingers hard into his shoulder blades and he stops thinking about much of anything.
And after he comes, dizziness hits him--having sex standing up in a hot shower, what'd you expect, fool?--and when his head clears, both of them are still breathing heavily, and he realizes that Veronica's grinning at something beyond his shoulder. So he turns to look.
It's Logan. Just standing there all casual-like, leaning against the doorframe.
"I'm ordering room service," he says. "You two want anything?"
***
Even after everything that's happened in the last eighteen hours, it's still hard for Eli to believe that he's actually sitting here in this effin' expensive hotel suite with Veronica and Logan, wearing this soft hotel robe, eating a very late lunch dropped off by room service.
It's awkward--or at least it should be. But Veronica and Logan act like it's all no big deal--the three of them here now, what happened last night, even Logan walking in on them half an hour ago. And since he's passed up multiple chances now to make a fast getaway, Eli figures he's kind of obliged to act like it's no big deal to him either. And after a little while, he finds he's not really acting anymore. It was just sex, after all. And now--well, now it's just lunch.
No big deal at all.
And then Logan goes over to the minibar and mixes up a pitcher of screwdrivers. Which is probably the point at which Eli should make his exit, once and for all, but Logan just hands him a glass and says, "Here. Hair of the dog and all that."
And they just end up hanging out. It's got a familiar feeling to it, like the day after a big party, when the last few people who crashed at your place last night still haven't gone home, and you've cleaned up and now and there's nothing to do but sit around and talk.
And Logan's got some pretty good stories about the entertainment biz. Eli's got stories of his own. Veronica mostly just listens, makes the occasional smartass comment or calls bullshit. And throws couch cushions at them, and gets some back.
But everyone's clothes stay on.
About an hour later, Veronica starts yawning. "You know, I think I'm just taking a little nap," she says. "You guys just--do your thing." And bam, she's out, just like that, curled up in a little ball on the sofa, hugging a cushion to her chest. Breathing deeply.
"Yeah," says Logan. "She does that. Damned if I know how."
So Eli and Logan go out to the private balcony, which Eli didn't even realize was out there. It's pretty big; couple of tables, lounge chairs, and a panoramic view of the Pacific. The sun's just gone down, and Logan drinks another vodka and orange juice while Eli has his second cigarette of the day.
He's been trying to cut back.
It really, really ought to be weird, sitting here alone with Logan, but it still isn't. It's like the normal reactions just aren't there. I've fucked your girlfriend, man, thinks Eli experimentally, glancing sidelong at Logan. You were there. You watched. More than once.
Nothing.
So he says, "You and Veronica--you got together after high school, or how did that work out?" It occurs to him that he has no idea what their relationship is really about.
Logan says, "Five, six years ago." He pauses. "Well, and we had a thing towards the end of senior year, but it didn't last long past graduation."
Eli frowns. "You mean--senior year of college?"
Logan shakes his head. "High school. Neptune. We didn't exactly publish an announcement in the school paper. Everything was still too insane. As you may recall."
So there it is, the reason Veronica never called him back.
"You guys did a good job keeping it quiet," he says, trying not to be bitter. And he's not jealous, it's more like a weird sense of retroactive betrayal. He wishes Veronica would have just told him how things were, back then.
Logan finishes his drink and sets the glass on the little table next to him, making the ice cubes clink and rattle. "We figured it was better if Duncan didn't know. Or, hell, anyone else for that matter. And you've got to understand, it's always been an on and off thing with us. The past is..." He makes a helpless gesture with one hand. "Fuck, I don't know. You think you're going to grow up and move beyond the shit that happened to you when you were younger, and the truth is, you never really do. No matter how much you think it through, no matter how much you try to feel your feelings, you never get any less fucked up--you just get better at hiding it. There's no such thing as closure. Closure's a myth invented by Hollywood and daytime talk shows."
Eli draws smoke deep into his lungs. He's never really thought about it before, not exactly in those terms. But even when you can feel the truth of something like that, feel it all the way to your bones, there's not much you can say in response. So he just exhales smoke and nods.
Logan continues: "So I guess Veronica and I just keep ending up back together because there's no one else who really gets it." He turns to look at Eli and says, "You were there. You must have some clue what I'm talking about."
Eli shrugs. "Didn't go through anything near as bad as you two did. Not by a long shot."
"But you and Lilly..." says Logan.
"Yeah, me and Lilly." It's weird that he can say it now, say it to Logan of all people, and not feel the old nagging ache. So maybe Logan's wrong, maybe things do change. Except...
Except he's kidding himself.
Never did have a girlfriend who lasted more than six or eight months; never could stand to look at them after the newness wore off, because they just didn't understand and he didn't feel like explaining. And sometimes it made them mad, that he wouldn't talk; and sometimes, like with Monica, they were just crazy bitches and it wouldn't have mattered anyway. Either way, it never lasted.
And the next thing he knows, he's telling all this to Logan, saying stuff he barely lets himself think about once or twice a year. About all the chicks he's been with, and how they're all not Lilly.
"And the most fucked-up part," he concludes, "is that I can't even remember what she was really like, now... and it doesn't make any difference."
It's Logan's turn to nod. Maybe he understands that part of it. But he's got Veronica.
Then: "Never forgot about the bridge," says Logan, still staring into the distance.
Maybe it's the water, reminding Logan of that night, or maybe it's the height; but either way Eli isn't ready for this part.
"Long time ago, man," he says.
"You saved my life," Logan persists.
"Yeah, well, I went there to kill you."
"I know. But you didn't. I remember all of it."
Eli tries hard not to remember, but it's like all the floodgates to the past have been opened tonight.
It'd been windy up there, windy and cold for May; and late as it was, the traffic had started backing up behind them, people slowing down to get a look. Eli knew it wouldn't be long before the cops showed up.
"Get down here, bitch," he'd yelled at Logan. "You feel like running, I'll even give you a head start. Just get down here and take what you got coming."
Logan had just laughed. "I already took it, Pablo, I took it right up the ass from the whole goddamned universe. You should have gotten in line sooner." And he'd skipped back and forth from one foot to the other; grinning, vacant-eyed, completely unhinged.
Eli said, "So you killed Lilly, and you finally got caught, and now you're gonna take the pussy way out."
Logan had stopped laughing then. "I didn't touch her," he'd shot back acidly. "You know that. You just can't get over the fact that she came back to me when she finished slumming it with you." And he'd looked over his shoulder, down at the water. His voice was quieter now: "And it doesn't fucking matter anyway. But, hey, do me a favor? Tell Veronica, when she figures out she was wrong--tell her I forgive her. And tell her she's still a heartless bitch."
And he'd known then that Logan was telling the truth. He didn't want to accept it, because if Logan was telling the truth then all that was left was the old jealousy, and Logan was wrong about that--it wasn't enough, not for what he'd come here meaning to do.
Still, he was in it now, and he had to do something.
Logan was still balancing on the edge, half-turned to face the water, like he was done with everything and everyone and was seriously beginning the process of talking himself into it.
But if Eli went for him now, even odds said they were both going over that railing. And in a part of his mind, that wasn't such a bad thing. He'd seen worse ways to die. Falling like that, it would probably be over before you knew it. And for a few seconds, it would be like flying.
Scared himself, thinking that way.
So he made everyone else leave, told them there was no reason for them all to get picked up by the cops for questioning; snarled at the last few who wanted to stay and watch the vato loco jump.
And then it was just him and Logan. Which made Logan turn to him, and start grinning again. "Is this the part where you finally admit how you really feel about me? Because, really, I think it may be too late for us."
Eli had shrugged. "Naw, man, I'm just waiting to see if you're gonna jump. Like a little bitch. You know--just like your mother?" He hooked his thumbs into the pockets of his jeans and sneered. "I guess being a pussy runs in the family."
Logan had come off the railing and after him like a pit bull. Eli let him get in a few punches, but in less than a minute it was over; he had Logan up against the side of his SUV, bleeding from the mouth and most of the fight gone out of him. Eli shoved a hand down into Logan's front pocket and came up with the car keys.
He'd held them up in front of Logan's face. "You need to take your sorry ass home."
"Hey, we've all got needs, homeboy. You, for example, need to fuck off and die."
So Eli knocked him against the car again a few times, not so hard now, just punctuating his words. "Go home. You hear me? You make me sick. Quit blaming the whole world for your problems. Suck it up like the rest of us. Go home. Punch a wall, see a shrink, get laid, whatever. Just get the fuck out of here."
"You should really teach a motivational course," Logan had said, "You could be the Dale Carnegie of the barrio." Trying to keep his game face on, but his voice was weak and quavering. He'd taken in a huge, shaky breath, and he really looked for a second like he wasn't going to break down. And Eli had hoped, desperately, that Logan would hold it together long enough to get back into his damn truck.
But he hadn't, and it all came out at once. One second Logan was just breathing, and the next he was sobbing; one second Eli was holding Logan up against the SUV, and the next he was just...holding him.
Moments passed--maybe a few too many. Logan smelled like about three kinds of booze, and beneath that he smelled like the fabric softener that his doubtlessly Latina housekeeper used when she did the laundry. And the skin of his cheek, where it touched Eli’s neck, was way too soft; no one who went around acting like they were burdened with the soul of a forty-year-old should have skin so soft and delicate. He sobbed without making a sound, his whole body shaking.
And then it was over, come and gone like a desert flash-flood. Logan grew still; Eli released him and stepped back. Logan turned his head to one side and spat blood. Then he grabbed the keys from Eli, never looking him in the eyes, and stumbled around to the driver's side. And drove off. Maybe not the best thing, him driving right now, but Eli figured Logan had plenty of practice driving drunk. He walked back to the railing and looked down at the black water, rubbing the spot on his neck that he realized was wet with Logan's tears. He stared at the water until he saw the police lights in the corner of his eye.
That night was the last time he'd ever talked to Logan Echolls. And the next day, they'd all found out about it, what his daddy had done.
Didn't seem like there was much left to say after that.
And now, Logan's still looking his way. Waiting.
"I did what I had to, that night," Eli says finally. "That's all."
Logan nods slowly. "Yeah. I think I know something about that." He stands up and walks to edge of the balcony, leans against this railing.
So Eli gets up and leans next him, not too close, looks out across at the darkening water. And for a second it could be that night on the bridge, and he wonders if Logan's going to take a sudden leap and finish the job this time.
But Logan just glances sidelong at Eli, then back away. "You watched the trial, right?"
No point asking which trial. "I watched it," Eli says. "The whole thing."
"You know my father almost walked, right? Legal dream team and all. But California was tired of letting celebs get away with murder, and in the end they nailed him... thanks to Veronica's testimony."
"I remember," says Eli.
"Life without parole," Logan continues. "They decided not to go for the death penalty. And I figured I could live with that, you know? Never having to see the sick old bastard again. But a couple of years pass, and the next thing you know"--he laughs bitterly--"The next thing you know, one of his lawyers calls to tell me they're working an angle for a possible mistrial, and isn't that just fantastic?"
"But that never happened," Eli points out. He remembers Aaron's prison mugshot, next to what would be his final headline: Actor Found Dead in San Quentin Laundry Room. "In the end it caught up with him."
Logan's face finally hardens into an expression: rage, determination, resignation. He looks at Eli with eyes gone a little crazed.
"I know," he says. "You have any idea how much it costs to hire a hit on someone in prison?"
Holy fuck.
Eli's heart starts hammering as he puts it together. He feels a little sick, and it's not just the hangover and the rich hotel food. He doesn't want to hear this, doesn't want to know it, damn sure doesn't want to be an accessory to it.
And at the same time, he can almost understand.
But he just stares at Logan. Logan stares back, and doesn't even blink.
"I used to know," Eli says finally. "I don't anymore. Not for a long time now."
"Yeah, well, I know," says Logan. And he laughs softly. "I know exactly how much." Final confirmation, looking at Eli defiantly.
Yeah. I did it. And I'm trusting you. I'm handing you the knife and turning my back. So what's it gonna be?
And Eli doesn't know why Logan's trusting him. Except, maybe, the bridge. And--
"Would've done the same," he admits. "If I had a way."
Logan just nods, his expression gone back to placid now, almost tranquil.
So. After everything and against all reasonable odds, they understand each other.
"Did what I had to do," Logan echoes. "That's all." He nods over at Eli. "Hey. Give me one of those smokes, will ya?"
***
Maybe an hour later, they're still standing there, drinking and smoking and watching the night sky. The glass door slides opens and Veronica leans outside. "Hello, boys," she says. A pause; a mischievous grin. "You know, I think I'm ready for dessert."
And she disappears back into the suite.
Eli and Logan exchange a glance. "She ever actually wear out?" Eli asks.
Logan grins wryly. "Hey, we all burn off stress in different ways. I don't judge."
***
Inside, Eli hesitates, because Logan’s already climbing onto the bed with Veronica; but then he sees the look they’re both giving him. Like, why the hell is he still just standing there?
And turns out there really is room enough for all three of them, even like this.
And when they all fall asleep, hours and hours later, Eli's arm is slung around Veronica's waist, but his fingers are brushing against Logan's arm, over on the other side of her. And it's all right.
***
It's déjà vu, waking up in the faux darkness again; but this time it's only nine, about the time he'd normally be getting up anyway. He slips out of bed without waking anyone up, gets dressed and has his morning cigarette out on the patio overlooking the Pacific. He stares at the ocean for a long time.
He could almost get used to this shit.
And it's Veronica who finds him first, just like yesterday. Only she's dressed this time, in jeans and a simple top. Her long blond hair is pulled back into a ponytail.
"Hey," she says. "There you are. We thought maybe you'd left." She sits down next to him. "Logan's downstairs settling the bill. I was just packing up."
Eli smiles at her, but he says, "You know, I've been thinking."
Veronica grins at him. "Always a dangerous pastime, I've found."
"Yeah." He gives her a straight look. "Logan and I were both hammered Friday night. And you, you acted drunk, but the more I think about it, the more I don't remember seeing you drink much past the first round or two."
She gives him a nonchalant little shrug, palms upturned. "I don't drink often. It doesn't take much."
"Okay. But I'm also thinking it's a pretty big coincidence--us running into each other at that club."
"Oh?"
"Maybe too big a coincidence, when you're involved."
Veronica is silent for a moment, but then she smiles. "You always were smarter than you looked. And it always did come back to bite me in the ass."
"Well, I ain't smart enough to figure out why you tracked me down. Can't have just been for cheap sex."
"Oh, give yourself some credit."
He laughs. But then: "Seriously."
"Seriously. Okay." She stands back up and crosses her arms in front of her chest, a pose he remembers all too well.
"Lilly's murder," Veronica begins. "Always comes back down to that, doesn't it? And it ruined everyone's lives. Everyone who was involved. Duncan's back in an institution, did you know that? His parents got divorced after his father's trial, and they had to sell off the software company. Celeste drank herself to death. And Trina's dead, and none of Logan's other relatives have ever spoken to him again. Like it was all somehow his fault. And don't even get me started on Jake Kane and my mother." She looks out at the ocean. "And we always thought my father would get his old job back, after the truth came out. But somehow it never happened."
Eli looks at her, waiting.
"But you," Veronica continues, "I worried about you, you know? And I graduated high school owing you a lot of favors. So I kept track of you and your little posse. And half the guys you ran with were dead or in jail by the time you were old enough to legally drink. But somehow you turned out all right."
"Yeah, well," he says, "I got out." He looks up at her. "You and Logan seem okay."
"You're a terrible liar," she says. "And I know Logan's still got secrets. Something connected to Lilly and everything that happened. But he'll never admit it to me. He won't talk to me about any of it."
It all makes sense, all of a sudden. Too much fucking sense. "So you figured you'd get me in the picture, see if I could find out if he's hiding anything. And report back to you." He laughs ruefully. "Man, it really is just like old times."
"No," she says. "I don't want you to tell me anything. I don't even want to know if there's really anything to tell. I just wanted him--to be able to talk to someone. And I thought maybe out of everyone who was there when everything went down--maybe he'd talk to you. And I knew you'd be able to handle it."
"And you figured sleeping with me was the way to make this all happen?"
She smiles. "Let's say I figured it couldn't hurt."
"So Logan thought it was all some cosmic coincidence, too." He looks at her. "You two do this kind of thing a lot? This weekend? With other people?"
She shrugs. "Now and then."
He tries to be shocked, but nothing comes. Besides, he's hardly in a position to chuck stones at anyone's glass houses. And Veronica probably already knew that.
So life gets boring, when you've seen as much as they have. And maybe after a while it takes something extra to even feel anything.
"So you're headed back to Neptune," he says, finally.
"Yeah. But Logan and I were talking. We thought maybe..."
"Yeah?"
"Maybe you could come visit sometime."
Eli stares at her, wondering exactly how much is included in that invitation. "I'm not sure that's such a great idea..."
But Veronica just grins like she's knows he's fronting. "Well. If you change your mind..." She hands him a little card with numbers on it.
Eli takes it and nods. "You'll be the first to know."
Veronica smiles at him again. She stands and leans over him, one small hand on his shoulder, and kisses him on the cheek before she turns to leave. "Room's paid for till noon. Hang out as long as you want. Nice view, huh?" A last smile, and she's gone.
Eli keeps his face impassive, neutral, until she closes the door behind her and the thick curtains swing back into place.
Then he lights up another cigarette. He'll quit tomorrow.
He tries to think of the things he needs to do today, like get home and change, and then make sure the shop didn't burn down or anything. He turned off his cell sometime in the early hours of Saturday and he never turned it back on, and it's more than possible that Scottie showed up for work and called the police when she couldn't get ahold of him.
But his mind wanders from the present back to last night, and the night before, and eleven years ago. He wonders how good a job Logan did covering his tracks; and he wonders if Veronica's really told him the whole truth about this weekend--or about anything, ever.
He flips the card around in his fingers.
But mostly...
Mostly, he just wonders how long he'll be about to hold out.
***
END
***
More of my VM fic is here.
Fandom: Veronica Mars
Rating: NC17
Summary: Veronica, Eli and Logan; high school's long over, but everyone's still got secrets.
Warn: General deviance. Dark themes. Author meets futurefic format, gets it liquored up, and takes advantage.
***
Eli sits now in the curtained darkness of Saturday afternoon. He finishes his cigarette and watches the digital clock blink over to 4:01 pm.
Veronica and Logan are still asleep.
His head is throbbing, but maybe not as bad as he deserves. Maybe it's a side benefit of the expensive booze. Quietly as he can, he stands and exits the bedroom, finds the rest of his clothes in the sitting room. Then he spots another door leading off the opposite direction, and he's not surprised to find it leads to another bedroom and another bathroom. This place is bigger than his apartment.
He decides it'll be easier to deal with reality if he has a shower first; this bathroom's a mirror image of the other one, same huge shower, and it's not a tough decision to make. He'll take a quick shower, then go downstairs and have the concierge call him a cab.
It's one of those hotels where they have every personal item you could ever need, all laid out in little sealed packets, and he chases two aspirin with an entire bottle of water and brushes his teeth while the shower gets hot.
Then he strips back down, gets into the shower and stands there a while, eyes closed, letting the hot water blast his sore muscles and get his blood circulating again. After about five minutes the pounding in his head starts to recede, and he decides that he's going to live, especially if there's coffee somewhere in the near future.
"Want some company?"
Female voice. His eyes snap open and he wipes water away from them.
Veronica. Standing there in a robe. Her blond hair is mussed and she looks sleepy; but her knowing grin is there, just like always. Checking him out through the glass walls of the shower, not bothering to pretend otherwise.
Eli mumbles something, it's supposed to be "Sure," but he has no idea what he actually said; Veronica unties the robe and slips it off her shoulders, lets it fall around her ankles. Naked, she pulls open the glass door and steps nimbly into the shower with him.
He moves to one side, sharing the water spray, because what the hell else is he supposed to do?
Besides, she looked cold.
They stare at each other, and finally he says, "Uh, I can leave..."
But Veronica laughs and moves closer to him, naked and all wet now, hair slicked back and dripping. "Is that what you want? I didn't mean to chase you away."
Sober now, this is a whole different game, and he's honestly not sure what he wants.
So he gets to the thing that's been nagging at him since he woke up:
He says, low as he can speak and still be heard above the shower spray, "Logan know that last night wasn't exactly the first time for us?"
Veronica says, "I wasn't even sure you remembered."
"Come on, V. Does he know or not?"
Graduation night, they'd run into each other at Lilly's memorial fountain. Not drunk like last night; just lonely, both of them. And they'd ended up back at his house, in his bedroom.
And she was gone the next morning. And never did return any of his calls after that. He'd never realized, till just now, how angry he still was about it.
But Veronica says, "Everyone's got their little secrets. Including Logan."
Which is still no answer at all. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means--there's a wet, naked girl in the shower with you and you want to have some big conversation about it?"
She's got a point.
He moves closer to her. She reaches for him.
And her mouth is even warmer than the steam around them.
He doesn't really remember what it was like, that night so long ago. It wasn't that it was bad, it just wasn't right somehow, and Veronica'd been willing but not what you'd call real vocal about what she wanted. And even quieter after. With the perspective of age, he realizes now that she'd just been a typical, inexperienced teenage girl.
Last night was different. Much. And drunk as he was, he remembers lots of things about it, little pieces of information that tend to stay with you.
Like the fact that Veronica likes her kissing rough. But a softer touch, elsewhere, really puts her over the edge, makes her crazy. A little frustration goes a long way with her. His hands remember. His mouth does. Hard and soft, hard and soft.
She moans, and it echoes all through the bathroom. Hard to care about the noise, though, when her hands are on him and she's obviously remembered some little details herself.
Last night he'd been wasted and it had been pretty good; today he's stone cold sober and it's beyond good. Like the alcohol had made him too numb to really appreciate things last night, like it had been a little too frantic and blurry and confused. There's something to be said for taking your time, and for using a little more finesse; he's known that since he was fifteen.
Another insistent moan from her. Eli's quads are still sore, but Veronica's small, and she holds on tight to him as he gets her up against the tiled back wall of the shower.
This is a bad idea, bad idea, bad idea, goes the chorus in his head. Until finally Veronica digs her fingers hard into his shoulder blades and he stops thinking about much of anything.
And after he comes, dizziness hits him--having sex standing up in a hot shower, what'd you expect, fool?--and when his head clears, both of them are still breathing heavily, and he realizes that Veronica's grinning at something beyond his shoulder. So he turns to look.
It's Logan. Just standing there all casual-like, leaning against the doorframe.
"I'm ordering room service," he says. "You two want anything?"
***
Even after everything that's happened in the last eighteen hours, it's still hard for Eli to believe that he's actually sitting here in this effin' expensive hotel suite with Veronica and Logan, wearing this soft hotel robe, eating a very late lunch dropped off by room service.
It's awkward--or at least it should be. But Veronica and Logan act like it's all no big deal--the three of them here now, what happened last night, even Logan walking in on them half an hour ago. And since he's passed up multiple chances now to make a fast getaway, Eli figures he's kind of obliged to act like it's no big deal to him either. And after a little while, he finds he's not really acting anymore. It was just sex, after all. And now--well, now it's just lunch.
No big deal at all.
And then Logan goes over to the minibar and mixes up a pitcher of screwdrivers. Which is probably the point at which Eli should make his exit, once and for all, but Logan just hands him a glass and says, "Here. Hair of the dog and all that."
And they just end up hanging out. It's got a familiar feeling to it, like the day after a big party, when the last few people who crashed at your place last night still haven't gone home, and you've cleaned up and now and there's nothing to do but sit around and talk.
And Logan's got some pretty good stories about the entertainment biz. Eli's got stories of his own. Veronica mostly just listens, makes the occasional smartass comment or calls bullshit. And throws couch cushions at them, and gets some back.
But everyone's clothes stay on.
About an hour later, Veronica starts yawning. "You know, I think I'm just taking a little nap," she says. "You guys just--do your thing." And bam, she's out, just like that, curled up in a little ball on the sofa, hugging a cushion to her chest. Breathing deeply.
"Yeah," says Logan. "She does that. Damned if I know how."
So Eli and Logan go out to the private balcony, which Eli didn't even realize was out there. It's pretty big; couple of tables, lounge chairs, and a panoramic view of the Pacific. The sun's just gone down, and Logan drinks another vodka and orange juice while Eli has his second cigarette of the day.
He's been trying to cut back.
It really, really ought to be weird, sitting here alone with Logan, but it still isn't. It's like the normal reactions just aren't there. I've fucked your girlfriend, man, thinks Eli experimentally, glancing sidelong at Logan. You were there. You watched. More than once.
Nothing.
So he says, "You and Veronica--you got together after high school, or how did that work out?" It occurs to him that he has no idea what their relationship is really about.
Logan says, "Five, six years ago." He pauses. "Well, and we had a thing towards the end of senior year, but it didn't last long past graduation."
Eli frowns. "You mean--senior year of college?"
Logan shakes his head. "High school. Neptune. We didn't exactly publish an announcement in the school paper. Everything was still too insane. As you may recall."
So there it is, the reason Veronica never called him back.
"You guys did a good job keeping it quiet," he says, trying not to be bitter. And he's not jealous, it's more like a weird sense of retroactive betrayal. He wishes Veronica would have just told him how things were, back then.
Logan finishes his drink and sets the glass on the little table next to him, making the ice cubes clink and rattle. "We figured it was better if Duncan didn't know. Or, hell, anyone else for that matter. And you've got to understand, it's always been an on and off thing with us. The past is..." He makes a helpless gesture with one hand. "Fuck, I don't know. You think you're going to grow up and move beyond the shit that happened to you when you were younger, and the truth is, you never really do. No matter how much you think it through, no matter how much you try to feel your feelings, you never get any less fucked up--you just get better at hiding it. There's no such thing as closure. Closure's a myth invented by Hollywood and daytime talk shows."
Eli draws smoke deep into his lungs. He's never really thought about it before, not exactly in those terms. But even when you can feel the truth of something like that, feel it all the way to your bones, there's not much you can say in response. So he just exhales smoke and nods.
Logan continues: "So I guess Veronica and I just keep ending up back together because there's no one else who really gets it." He turns to look at Eli and says, "You were there. You must have some clue what I'm talking about."
Eli shrugs. "Didn't go through anything near as bad as you two did. Not by a long shot."
"But you and Lilly..." says Logan.
"Yeah, me and Lilly." It's weird that he can say it now, say it to Logan of all people, and not feel the old nagging ache. So maybe Logan's wrong, maybe things do change. Except...
Except he's kidding himself.
Never did have a girlfriend who lasted more than six or eight months; never could stand to look at them after the newness wore off, because they just didn't understand and he didn't feel like explaining. And sometimes it made them mad, that he wouldn't talk; and sometimes, like with Monica, they were just crazy bitches and it wouldn't have mattered anyway. Either way, it never lasted.
And the next thing he knows, he's telling all this to Logan, saying stuff he barely lets himself think about once or twice a year. About all the chicks he's been with, and how they're all not Lilly.
"And the most fucked-up part," he concludes, "is that I can't even remember what she was really like, now... and it doesn't make any difference."
It's Logan's turn to nod. Maybe he understands that part of it. But he's got Veronica.
Then: "Never forgot about the bridge," says Logan, still staring into the distance.
Maybe it's the water, reminding Logan of that night, or maybe it's the height; but either way Eli isn't ready for this part.
"Long time ago, man," he says.
"You saved my life," Logan persists.
"Yeah, well, I went there to kill you."
"I know. But you didn't. I remember all of it."
Eli tries hard not to remember, but it's like all the floodgates to the past have been opened tonight.
It'd been windy up there, windy and cold for May; and late as it was, the traffic had started backing up behind them, people slowing down to get a look. Eli knew it wouldn't be long before the cops showed up.
"Get down here, bitch," he'd yelled at Logan. "You feel like running, I'll even give you a head start. Just get down here and take what you got coming."
Logan had just laughed. "I already took it, Pablo, I took it right up the ass from the whole goddamned universe. You should have gotten in line sooner." And he'd skipped back and forth from one foot to the other; grinning, vacant-eyed, completely unhinged.
Eli said, "So you killed Lilly, and you finally got caught, and now you're gonna take the pussy way out."
Logan had stopped laughing then. "I didn't touch her," he'd shot back acidly. "You know that. You just can't get over the fact that she came back to me when she finished slumming it with you." And he'd looked over his shoulder, down at the water. His voice was quieter now: "And it doesn't fucking matter anyway. But, hey, do me a favor? Tell Veronica, when she figures out she was wrong--tell her I forgive her. And tell her she's still a heartless bitch."
And he'd known then that Logan was telling the truth. He didn't want to accept it, because if Logan was telling the truth then all that was left was the old jealousy, and Logan was wrong about that--it wasn't enough, not for what he'd come here meaning to do.
Still, he was in it now, and he had to do something.
Logan was still balancing on the edge, half-turned to face the water, like he was done with everything and everyone and was seriously beginning the process of talking himself into it.
But if Eli went for him now, even odds said they were both going over that railing. And in a part of his mind, that wasn't such a bad thing. He'd seen worse ways to die. Falling like that, it would probably be over before you knew it. And for a few seconds, it would be like flying.
Scared himself, thinking that way.
So he made everyone else leave, told them there was no reason for them all to get picked up by the cops for questioning; snarled at the last few who wanted to stay and watch the vato loco jump.
And then it was just him and Logan. Which made Logan turn to him, and start grinning again. "Is this the part where you finally admit how you really feel about me? Because, really, I think it may be too late for us."
Eli had shrugged. "Naw, man, I'm just waiting to see if you're gonna jump. Like a little bitch. You know--just like your mother?" He hooked his thumbs into the pockets of his jeans and sneered. "I guess being a pussy runs in the family."
Logan had come off the railing and after him like a pit bull. Eli let him get in a few punches, but in less than a minute it was over; he had Logan up against the side of his SUV, bleeding from the mouth and most of the fight gone out of him. Eli shoved a hand down into Logan's front pocket and came up with the car keys.
He'd held them up in front of Logan's face. "You need to take your sorry ass home."
"Hey, we've all got needs, homeboy. You, for example, need to fuck off and die."
So Eli knocked him against the car again a few times, not so hard now, just punctuating his words. "Go home. You hear me? You make me sick. Quit blaming the whole world for your problems. Suck it up like the rest of us. Go home. Punch a wall, see a shrink, get laid, whatever. Just get the fuck out of here."
"You should really teach a motivational course," Logan had said, "You could be the Dale Carnegie of the barrio." Trying to keep his game face on, but his voice was weak and quavering. He'd taken in a huge, shaky breath, and he really looked for a second like he wasn't going to break down. And Eli had hoped, desperately, that Logan would hold it together long enough to get back into his damn truck.
But he hadn't, and it all came out at once. One second Logan was just breathing, and the next he was sobbing; one second Eli was holding Logan up against the SUV, and the next he was just...holding him.
Moments passed--maybe a few too many. Logan smelled like about three kinds of booze, and beneath that he smelled like the fabric softener that his doubtlessly Latina housekeeper used when she did the laundry. And the skin of his cheek, where it touched Eli’s neck, was way too soft; no one who went around acting like they were burdened with the soul of a forty-year-old should have skin so soft and delicate. He sobbed without making a sound, his whole body shaking.
And then it was over, come and gone like a desert flash-flood. Logan grew still; Eli released him and stepped back. Logan turned his head to one side and spat blood. Then he grabbed the keys from Eli, never looking him in the eyes, and stumbled around to the driver's side. And drove off. Maybe not the best thing, him driving right now, but Eli figured Logan had plenty of practice driving drunk. He walked back to the railing and looked down at the black water, rubbing the spot on his neck that he realized was wet with Logan's tears. He stared at the water until he saw the police lights in the corner of his eye.
That night was the last time he'd ever talked to Logan Echolls. And the next day, they'd all found out about it, what his daddy had done.
Didn't seem like there was much left to say after that.
And now, Logan's still looking his way. Waiting.
"I did what I had to, that night," Eli says finally. "That's all."
Logan nods slowly. "Yeah. I think I know something about that." He stands up and walks to edge of the balcony, leans against this railing.
So Eli gets up and leans next him, not too close, looks out across at the darkening water. And for a second it could be that night on the bridge, and he wonders if Logan's going to take a sudden leap and finish the job this time.
But Logan just glances sidelong at Eli, then back away. "You watched the trial, right?"
No point asking which trial. "I watched it," Eli says. "The whole thing."
"You know my father almost walked, right? Legal dream team and all. But California was tired of letting celebs get away with murder, and in the end they nailed him... thanks to Veronica's testimony."
"I remember," says Eli.
"Life without parole," Logan continues. "They decided not to go for the death penalty. And I figured I could live with that, you know? Never having to see the sick old bastard again. But a couple of years pass, and the next thing you know"--he laughs bitterly--"The next thing you know, one of his lawyers calls to tell me they're working an angle for a possible mistrial, and isn't that just fantastic?"
"But that never happened," Eli points out. He remembers Aaron's prison mugshot, next to what would be his final headline: Actor Found Dead in San Quentin Laundry Room. "In the end it caught up with him."
Logan's face finally hardens into an expression: rage, determination, resignation. He looks at Eli with eyes gone a little crazed.
"I know," he says. "You have any idea how much it costs to hire a hit on someone in prison?"
Holy fuck.
Eli's heart starts hammering as he puts it together. He feels a little sick, and it's not just the hangover and the rich hotel food. He doesn't want to hear this, doesn't want to know it, damn sure doesn't want to be an accessory to it.
And at the same time, he can almost understand.
But he just stares at Logan. Logan stares back, and doesn't even blink.
"I used to know," Eli says finally. "I don't anymore. Not for a long time now."
"Yeah, well, I know," says Logan. And he laughs softly. "I know exactly how much." Final confirmation, looking at Eli defiantly.
Yeah. I did it. And I'm trusting you. I'm handing you the knife and turning my back. So what's it gonna be?
And Eli doesn't know why Logan's trusting him. Except, maybe, the bridge. And--
"Would've done the same," he admits. "If I had a way."
Logan just nods, his expression gone back to placid now, almost tranquil.
So. After everything and against all reasonable odds, they understand each other.
"Did what I had to do," Logan echoes. "That's all." He nods over at Eli. "Hey. Give me one of those smokes, will ya?"
***
Maybe an hour later, they're still standing there, drinking and smoking and watching the night sky. The glass door slides opens and Veronica leans outside. "Hello, boys," she says. A pause; a mischievous grin. "You know, I think I'm ready for dessert."
And she disappears back into the suite.
Eli and Logan exchange a glance. "She ever actually wear out?" Eli asks.
Logan grins wryly. "Hey, we all burn off stress in different ways. I don't judge."
***
Inside, Eli hesitates, because Logan’s already climbing onto the bed with Veronica; but then he sees the look they’re both giving him. Like, why the hell is he still just standing there?
And turns out there really is room enough for all three of them, even like this.
And when they all fall asleep, hours and hours later, Eli's arm is slung around Veronica's waist, but his fingers are brushing against Logan's arm, over on the other side of her. And it's all right.
***
It's déjà vu, waking up in the faux darkness again; but this time it's only nine, about the time he'd normally be getting up anyway. He slips out of bed without waking anyone up, gets dressed and has his morning cigarette out on the patio overlooking the Pacific. He stares at the ocean for a long time.
He could almost get used to this shit.
And it's Veronica who finds him first, just like yesterday. Only she's dressed this time, in jeans and a simple top. Her long blond hair is pulled back into a ponytail.
"Hey," she says. "There you are. We thought maybe you'd left." She sits down next to him. "Logan's downstairs settling the bill. I was just packing up."
Eli smiles at her, but he says, "You know, I've been thinking."
Veronica grins at him. "Always a dangerous pastime, I've found."
"Yeah." He gives her a straight look. "Logan and I were both hammered Friday night. And you, you acted drunk, but the more I think about it, the more I don't remember seeing you drink much past the first round or two."
She gives him a nonchalant little shrug, palms upturned. "I don't drink often. It doesn't take much."
"Okay. But I'm also thinking it's a pretty big coincidence--us running into each other at that club."
"Oh?"
"Maybe too big a coincidence, when you're involved."
Veronica is silent for a moment, but then she smiles. "You always were smarter than you looked. And it always did come back to bite me in the ass."
"Well, I ain't smart enough to figure out why you tracked me down. Can't have just been for cheap sex."
"Oh, give yourself some credit."
He laughs. But then: "Seriously."
"Seriously. Okay." She stands back up and crosses her arms in front of her chest, a pose he remembers all too well.
"Lilly's murder," Veronica begins. "Always comes back down to that, doesn't it? And it ruined everyone's lives. Everyone who was involved. Duncan's back in an institution, did you know that? His parents got divorced after his father's trial, and they had to sell off the software company. Celeste drank herself to death. And Trina's dead, and none of Logan's other relatives have ever spoken to him again. Like it was all somehow his fault. And don't even get me started on Jake Kane and my mother." She looks out at the ocean. "And we always thought my father would get his old job back, after the truth came out. But somehow it never happened."
Eli looks at her, waiting.
"But you," Veronica continues, "I worried about you, you know? And I graduated high school owing you a lot of favors. So I kept track of you and your little posse. And half the guys you ran with were dead or in jail by the time you were old enough to legally drink. But somehow you turned out all right."
"Yeah, well," he says, "I got out." He looks up at her. "You and Logan seem okay."
"You're a terrible liar," she says. "And I know Logan's still got secrets. Something connected to Lilly and everything that happened. But he'll never admit it to me. He won't talk to me about any of it."
It all makes sense, all of a sudden. Too much fucking sense. "So you figured you'd get me in the picture, see if I could find out if he's hiding anything. And report back to you." He laughs ruefully. "Man, it really is just like old times."
"No," she says. "I don't want you to tell me anything. I don't even want to know if there's really anything to tell. I just wanted him--to be able to talk to someone. And I thought maybe out of everyone who was there when everything went down--maybe he'd talk to you. And I knew you'd be able to handle it."
"And you figured sleeping with me was the way to make this all happen?"
She smiles. "Let's say I figured it couldn't hurt."
"So Logan thought it was all some cosmic coincidence, too." He looks at her. "You two do this kind of thing a lot? This weekend? With other people?"
She shrugs. "Now and then."
He tries to be shocked, but nothing comes. Besides, he's hardly in a position to chuck stones at anyone's glass houses. And Veronica probably already knew that.
So life gets boring, when you've seen as much as they have. And maybe after a while it takes something extra to even feel anything.
"So you're headed back to Neptune," he says, finally.
"Yeah. But Logan and I were talking. We thought maybe..."
"Yeah?"
"Maybe you could come visit sometime."
Eli stares at her, wondering exactly how much is included in that invitation. "I'm not sure that's such a great idea..."
But Veronica just grins like she's knows he's fronting. "Well. If you change your mind..." She hands him a little card with numbers on it.
Eli takes it and nods. "You'll be the first to know."
Veronica smiles at him again. She stands and leans over him, one small hand on his shoulder, and kisses him on the cheek before she turns to leave. "Room's paid for till noon. Hang out as long as you want. Nice view, huh?" A last smile, and she's gone.
Eli keeps his face impassive, neutral, until she closes the door behind her and the thick curtains swing back into place.
Then he lights up another cigarette. He'll quit tomorrow.
He tries to think of the things he needs to do today, like get home and change, and then make sure the shop didn't burn down or anything. He turned off his cell sometime in the early hours of Saturday and he never turned it back on, and it's more than possible that Scottie showed up for work and called the police when she couldn't get ahold of him.
But his mind wanders from the present back to last night, and the night before, and eleven years ago. He wonders how good a job Logan did covering his tracks; and he wonders if Veronica's really told him the whole truth about this weekend--or about anything, ever.
He flips the card around in his fingers.
But mostly...
Mostly, he just wonders how long he'll be about to hold out.
***
END
***
More of my VM fic is here.