FIC- Veronica Mars (Veronica/Duncan)
Title: Force Of Nature
Rating: pg
Word Count: 1,441
Summary: It's the most natural thing in the world...
Disclaimer: All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.
Author's Note: My second contribution to my schmoop_bingo card found here. This prompt was 'holding hands' ETA: This was most wonderfully beta-ed by hope27 ^_^
It’s been four years, five months and nine days.
And still, her hand in his feels like the most natural thing in the world.
She hadn’t meant to set out and find them, she had always meant to just leave them be, hope and wish the best for them. If she tamped down every natural instinct to go after them, they would be fine, they would have a life somewhere...without her. And she would be fine, too. Alone...but fine, nonetheless.
She was taking six weeks of relaxation, in between graduation from Hearst and entry into the FBI, when she received five fortune cookies in the mail.
True love stories never have...
No return address, but it was enough for her. Veronica told her father that she was going to Denver to visit Parker. She wasn’t sure if he believed her or not. She hated lying to him.
She caught up with him in Greece. Clarence Weidman had helped him over the years, making a quick escape out of here or there, getting him quick funds from Celeste when he was in a tight spot, and Duncan was set up on a tiny island off the coast of Lefkada. He had his own fishing boat, and he would shuttle catches back to the mainland three times a week. “How very Sisterhood Of The Traveling Pants,” Veronica said. He turned at her voice, and everything- the waves crashing on the shore, the gulls wailing overhead, the sun on her skin- everything went away and she was fifteen years old again.
My first, and only love...
It was ten or so steps to him, but they seemed to go on forever, and as she took her first look at him in four years (five months and nine days), she took in all the changes. The quiet, privileged boy (first and only love) was gone and in his place was a man. She took him in. Rich brown hair with hints of auburn, brighter from the sun. He had a beard, and it was fully grown in, not sparse and patchy the way it was when he was a teenager. His body was harder, leaner and more muscular all at once, and the warm honey tone of someone who spent all the time he could outdoors. Four years had not been easy, and he had known real, sweaty hard work for the first time. And as she got closer, those eyes, a light, clear aquamarine...those eyes. There he was.
“Duncan,” she whispered.
“I didn’t know..” His voice was different too, deeper and colored by different accents from his travels. “I didn’t know if you would come, I-” But she was close enough to touch now, and without warning he reached out and snatched her to him, crushing her to him, almost afraid to believe she was real. He pulled back and with trembling hands, he framed her face, resting his forehead against hers. “I didn’t know if you would come, I’m sorry, I should let you just go on, but I...I missed you too much, I-” But he couldn’t help interrupting himself, and he slanted his mouth over hers, tasting what had been denied him for so long.
Veronica was weak in Duncan’s arms, limp and pliant against him, and he held her for an eternity against him. The sun was setting when he wrapped one arm securely around her and led her away from the shore. The first stop, of course, was at the home of the old couple Duncan had bought his boat from. Lilly stayed there during the day and played with their grandson. Veronica’s hand tightened on Duncan’s when the house came into view, and saw the two children chasing each other through the yard.
To say she was beautiful would have been a gross understatement. Lilly Margaret Kane was the most exquisite child she had ever seen, if perhaps a bit small for four years old. She squealed when she saw her father walking towards her and took off at run to leap into his arms. Showering his face with kisses, she chattered in an adorable stream of rapid Greek and he laughed, and gently whispered, “Speak English, baby,” and turned her in his arms to see Veronica.
She went quiet, her large aquamarine eyes serious at once. “Are you my mother?” Veronica felt tears smart her eyes and in a panic, she looked to Duncan to handle that comment, but Lilly Kane was, as always, two steps ahead of everyone else. “Oh. You’re Veronica.” Her eyes shined with wonder and near worship. Veronica had no need to introduce herself, it seemed she was already well known.
Duncan pressed a tender kiss to his daughter’s brow and smiled at Veronica.
They had a simple, delicious dinner of cheese, bread, and fish that Duncan had caught that day and grilled in an open pit in front of his home, and later, Veronica watched from the doorway as Duncan tucked his daughter into bed. They had a routine of tucking in, so it seemed, that began with Duncan pulling the covers under her chin and tucking her tightly from neck to toes, kissing her forehead, her nose, both cheeks, and then, in perfect unison, father and daughter saying together, “Love you the most, love you the best.” Lilly had no need for a nightlight, with the stars twinkling through her window, and Duncan left the door ajar, as he joined Veronica in the dark hallway, and led her back out to the front yard (where they had a postcard-perfect view of the Ionian sea).
Duncan tells her how Lefkada was supposedly where Odysseus came home to, and Veronica laughs softly. “Who told you that?”
He grins. “I don’t know. A tour guide.”
They lapse into silence, drowsing, listening to the sounds of the ocean, warmed by each other, Duncan holding her close. “Why now?” She asks. She didn’t want to ask, didn’t want to break the spell of the day, but...
He is quiet and she wonders if he’s fallen asleep, but his eyes are wide when she lifts her head from his shoulder. “I didn’t know if you would come.” He laughs, somewhat brokenly. “I almost hoped you wouldn’t.” Veronica goes stiff, but he presses a kiss to her cheek. “Shhh, shhh,” he soothes, as if he’s talking to Lilly. He takes a deep breath. “I...I miss you too...No, that’s not enough...” He’s struggling for words. “I sent for you, because...Because you are in my mind and in my heart every day and, God, every night, and I couldn’t go one more day without going mad. I thought...if you didn’t come, if you didn’t still feel...” Veronica chokes back a sob, and his brow furrows in concern. “No, please don’t, I am too selfish. I thought...if you didn’t come, if it was over...If you had moved on...Maybe I would never stop missing you, but if I knew you weren’t hurting...Maybe I could have some peace.” He stroked a strong hand down her cheek. His fingers were callused. “And now you’re here...It’s agony...and such joy...What have I done?”
Veronica touches his face, brushing away the tear on his cheekbone. She laces her fingers through his, and pulls him to his feet, back into the house, up the stairs.
Never have endings...
As they’re laying together in the dark, in his twin-sized bed, bare bodies wound together, Veronica says, out of the blue, “I’m going into the FBI.”
He’s lazily trailing his fingers over her spine, and doesn’t cease his gentle touch. “I know.” He pauses. “Veronica...I am on the FBI’s most wanted list.”
“I know,” she answers. She picks her head up from his chest, and looks into those light, clear aquamarine eyes. There is the boy she loved...will always love. “You’ll never be found.”
He looks back at her with infinite tenderness and love. Bringing her hand to his lips, he presses a kiss against her, eyes closed, and then lays it on his heart.
Four years, five months and nine days. And the most natural thing in the world...for the last time.
Rating: pg
Word Count: 1,441
Summary: It's the most natural thing in the world...
Disclaimer: All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.
Author's Note: My second contribution to my schmoop_bingo card found here. This prompt was 'holding hands' ETA: This was most wonderfully beta-ed by hope27 ^_^
It’s been four years, five months and nine days.
And still, her hand in his feels like the most natural thing in the world.
She hadn’t meant to set out and find them, she had always meant to just leave them be, hope and wish the best for them. If she tamped down every natural instinct to go after them, they would be fine, they would have a life somewhere...without her. And she would be fine, too. Alone...but fine, nonetheless.
She was taking six weeks of relaxation, in between graduation from Hearst and entry into the FBI, when she received five fortune cookies in the mail.
True love stories never have...
No return address, but it was enough for her. Veronica told her father that she was going to Denver to visit Parker. She wasn’t sure if he believed her or not. She hated lying to him.
She caught up with him in Greece. Clarence Weidman had helped him over the years, making a quick escape out of here or there, getting him quick funds from Celeste when he was in a tight spot, and Duncan was set up on a tiny island off the coast of Lefkada. He had his own fishing boat, and he would shuttle catches back to the mainland three times a week. “How very Sisterhood Of The Traveling Pants,” Veronica said. He turned at her voice, and everything- the waves crashing on the shore, the gulls wailing overhead, the sun on her skin- everything went away and she was fifteen years old again.
My first, and only love...
It was ten or so steps to him, but they seemed to go on forever, and as she took her first look at him in four years (five months and nine days), she took in all the changes. The quiet, privileged boy (first and only love) was gone and in his place was a man. She took him in. Rich brown hair with hints of auburn, brighter from the sun. He had a beard, and it was fully grown in, not sparse and patchy the way it was when he was a teenager. His body was harder, leaner and more muscular all at once, and the warm honey tone of someone who spent all the time he could outdoors. Four years had not been easy, and he had known real, sweaty hard work for the first time. And as she got closer, those eyes, a light, clear aquamarine...those eyes. There he was.
“Duncan,” she whispered.
“I didn’t know..” His voice was different too, deeper and colored by different accents from his travels. “I didn’t know if you would come, I-” But she was close enough to touch now, and without warning he reached out and snatched her to him, crushing her to him, almost afraid to believe she was real. He pulled back and with trembling hands, he framed her face, resting his forehead against hers. “I didn’t know if you would come, I’m sorry, I should let you just go on, but I...I missed you too much, I-” But he couldn’t help interrupting himself, and he slanted his mouth over hers, tasting what had been denied him for so long.
Veronica was weak in Duncan’s arms, limp and pliant against him, and he held her for an eternity against him. The sun was setting when he wrapped one arm securely around her and led her away from the shore. The first stop, of course, was at the home of the old couple Duncan had bought his boat from. Lilly stayed there during the day and played with their grandson. Veronica’s hand tightened on Duncan’s when the house came into view, and saw the two children chasing each other through the yard.
To say she was beautiful would have been a gross understatement. Lilly Margaret Kane was the most exquisite child she had ever seen, if perhaps a bit small for four years old. She squealed when she saw her father walking towards her and took off at run to leap into his arms. Showering his face with kisses, she chattered in an adorable stream of rapid Greek and he laughed, and gently whispered, “Speak English, baby,” and turned her in his arms to see Veronica.
She went quiet, her large aquamarine eyes serious at once. “Are you my mother?” Veronica felt tears smart her eyes and in a panic, she looked to Duncan to handle that comment, but Lilly Kane was, as always, two steps ahead of everyone else. “Oh. You’re Veronica.” Her eyes shined with wonder and near worship. Veronica had no need to introduce herself, it seemed she was already well known.
Duncan pressed a tender kiss to his daughter’s brow and smiled at Veronica.
They had a simple, delicious dinner of cheese, bread, and fish that Duncan had caught that day and grilled in an open pit in front of his home, and later, Veronica watched from the doorway as Duncan tucked his daughter into bed. They had a routine of tucking in, so it seemed, that began with Duncan pulling the covers under her chin and tucking her tightly from neck to toes, kissing her forehead, her nose, both cheeks, and then, in perfect unison, father and daughter saying together, “Love you the most, love you the best.” Lilly had no need for a nightlight, with the stars twinkling through her window, and Duncan left the door ajar, as he joined Veronica in the dark hallway, and led her back out to the front yard (where they had a postcard-perfect view of the Ionian sea).
Duncan tells her how Lefkada was supposedly where Odysseus came home to, and Veronica laughs softly. “Who told you that?”
He grins. “I don’t know. A tour guide.”
They lapse into silence, drowsing, listening to the sounds of the ocean, warmed by each other, Duncan holding her close. “Why now?” She asks. She didn’t want to ask, didn’t want to break the spell of the day, but...
He is quiet and she wonders if he’s fallen asleep, but his eyes are wide when she lifts her head from his shoulder. “I didn’t know if you would come.” He laughs, somewhat brokenly. “I almost hoped you wouldn’t.” Veronica goes stiff, but he presses a kiss to her cheek. “Shhh, shhh,” he soothes, as if he’s talking to Lilly. He takes a deep breath. “I...I miss you too...No, that’s not enough...” He’s struggling for words. “I sent for you, because...Because you are in my mind and in my heart every day and, God, every night, and I couldn’t go one more day without going mad. I thought...if you didn’t come, if you didn’t still feel...” Veronica chokes back a sob, and his brow furrows in concern. “No, please don’t, I am too selfish. I thought...if you didn’t come, if it was over...If you had moved on...Maybe I would never stop missing you, but if I knew you weren’t hurting...Maybe I could have some peace.” He stroked a strong hand down her cheek. His fingers were callused. “And now you’re here...It’s agony...and such joy...What have I done?”
Veronica touches his face, brushing away the tear on his cheekbone. She laces her fingers through his, and pulls him to his feet, back into the house, up the stairs.
Never have endings...
As they’re laying together in the dark, in his twin-sized bed, bare bodies wound together, Veronica says, out of the blue, “I’m going into the FBI.”
He’s lazily trailing his fingers over her spine, and doesn’t cease his gentle touch. “I know.” He pauses. “Veronica...I am on the FBI’s most wanted list.”
“I know,” she answers. She picks her head up from his chest, and looks into those light, clear aquamarine eyes. There is the boy she loved...will always love. “You’ll never be found.”
He looks back at her with infinite tenderness and love. Bringing her hand to his lips, he presses a kiss against her, eyes closed, and then lays it on his heart.
Four years, five months and nine days. And the most natural thing in the world...for the last time.