Title: Veronica and Her Pirate King
Spoilers/Warnings: Futurefic that goes AU post-1x22. Also, sex happens.
Summary: On Halloween, Veronica looks for anonymous sex to forget, but ends up remembering more than she bargained for.
Disclaimer: Rob Thomas rules all.
Notes: Written for loveathons, with many thanks to Susie and Erin for hand-holding and beta help. As always, feedback is much appreciated.
That is, until years pass and girl's boss hands down an assignment that involves not only seeing aforementioned guy, but interviewing him, photographing his best side, and promoting his latest directorial masterpiece
Yeah, life really can be a bitch sometimes.
"I suddenly feel the need to get really, really drunk," Veronica shares with her best friend as she shoves her phone into her tiny black purse. Most problems that she's had in her life, she's dealt with by working through them, rationalizing them, and forcing her problems to make sense.
She never had the opportunity to do that with one Logan Echolls.
After she incorrectly accused him of rape and made another baseless accusation of murder, their five-week-long secret relationship exploded on the sand of Dog Beach. After his father was jailed for murder, his older sister whisked him off to Europe, and minus the occasional tabloid photo or entertainment news mention, Veronica never saw him again.
"Well, you're in luck, Mars," Suzanne responds, pulling Veronica out of her reverie. "It's Halloween, we're on our way to a bar, and you're looking mighty hot in that cat suit. You shouldn't have any problem getting guys to buy you drinks all night long. Or, maybe you can find a guy to take your mind off your problems for the rest of the night."
"Whatever," Veronica remarks as they exit the car and start walking towards the bar. Suzanne knows that she isn't usually interested in one-night stands, but maybe a passionate fling is just what she needs to get her mind off of the last-minute assignment that's been added to her plans for the following day.
The beat is pulsing all around them as they step into the smoky, low-lit bar. Bodies are moving, and costumed people are everywhere as they navigate their way inside. Veronica does her standard scan of the room to see if there is any man who appeals to her. While aware that no one really looks like their true selves – so she really has no idea what she could be getting herself into – she can't stop focusing on a guy in a pirate suit who is chatting up Little Bo Peep.
"I'm going to check out Jack Sparrow over there," Veronica informs Suzanne, with a twinkle in her eye.
"Mr. Eyeliner? Please, Veronica. You can do so much better."
"The eyeliner's a part of his costume," she argues. "Besides, there's something about his eyes that I just can't ignore."
"Don't say I didn't warn you," Suzanne smirks.
"Do I need to remind you of the 'guy' you picked up a few weeks back that was actually a lesbian?" Veronica returns quietly, with a roll of her eyes.
"Yeah, whatever. Just don't blame me if you get him back to your place and he wants to start trying on your dresses."
Veronica laughs at that comment, before turning to size up her intended target. "Don't worry about me, Suze – I'll find my own ride home."
"A bit overconfident, are we?" her friend teases.
"When you've got a deadly combination of looks and charm like I do, there's no such thing as overconfidence." With a twinkle in her eye, Veronica rolls her neck and shakes her fingers at her side to loosen up. And then she sets off after her pirate prey.
As she approaches, her surety of her choice increases exponentially. True, his dark hair is long and mussed, but she's confident that it's nothing more than a wig selected for this very occasion. Additionally, his white linen shirt may not be form-fitting enough to really show off his body, but she appreciates the fact that he tore at the front of the shirt to create the appearance of having survived numerous battles on the high seas.
Of course, the view that it provides of his finely toned pecs doesn't hurt either.
"Hello, Cap'n. Care for a fuck … " she greets him, causing his eyes to fixate immediately on her before glazing over. Yeah, he's as good as hers, she realizes before finishing her statement with, "… ing drink?"
"Would I like a fucking drink?" he parrots back, mirth shining in his eyes. "Only if I can buy one for you in exchange – and if you promise not to slink off into the night on me."
"It's a deal," she agrees, allowing him to guide her up to the bar.
"A Jack and Coke for me and – " He pauses and glances in her direction.
"A Screaming Orgasm would be great," she replies, batting her eyelashes coyly.
"We'll take care of the drink now," the tall pirate at her side begins. "And I'll see what I can do later about taking care of that request."
She takes the cocktail glass without further remark, confident that she's sufficiently brought him under her spell at this point. Between her opening pick-up line and the innuendo that surrounds her drink choice, he'd have to be incredibly naïve to not be aware of her carnal intentions.
Moments of companionable silence pass between them. She knows that she looks fucking hot in her costume, despite her lack of curves. She was never the one with the ample breasts or the hourglass figure, but she knows that she has in the past and will continue to turn heads with her own slender form.
"Care for a fuck … " he begins, and she raises an eyebrow at his very forward question. "… ing dance?" he finishes a moment later.
"Touché," she grants, a giggle bubbling in her throat. "And, yes, I'd love to fucking dance with you."
She knows that dancing is hardly the appropriate term for the grinding that's occurring elsewhere in the bar, but she appreciates the fact that he was willing to throw her pick-up line back in her face. It's been a long time since she's been with a guy who wasn't afraid to risk pissing her off, if only to keep her on her toes.
He leads her to the edge of the gyrating throng, and she moves willingly into his arms. The layers of his costume make it difficult for her to fully exploit her womanly charms, but she's confident that he's well enough under her spell by this point.
"Can I ask the name of my pirate king?"
"Pirate king?" he chuckles, and she more feels the vibrating of his chest that actually hears his laughter given the loud volume of the music blasting from the overhead speakers. "You can call me Captain Jack," he shouts into her ear after a moment's pause.
His fingertips trace her sides, and she can see the question in his eyes at her apparent absence of underwear. Yes, she mouths, licking her lips seductively, and he closes his eyes momentarily in response.
Hardly another second passes before she feels his lips press roughly against her own as his tongue seeks entrance to her mouth. She resists, remaining closed-mouthed because she wants to see him work for a decent kiss. He's no newcomer to this game, however, and he quickly moves his hand to a braless breast, massaging the soft tissue through the spandex and evoking a gasp in response.
He seizes his opportunity and plunges his tongue deeply into her mouth, savagely claiming her mouth and body as his plunder. She yields up to his passionate embrace, able to only communicate via gasps and moans, weak knees and willing lips.
"What do you say we get out of here?" he suggests, and she nods, left speechless for the first time in a long time.
Veronica always swore that even if she ever had enough money to be able to afford a limousine, she would never rent one. After all, when she was growing up in Neptune, she knew that the rich used limos as a representation of their status and prestige. Their ability to call up their driver at a moment's notice hadn't impressed her, and she didn't believe there could ever be any pragmatic use for a limo.
But now, as the vehicle speeds towards her pirate's home, Captain Jack is making her well aware of the benefits that could come from having a driver take you places.
Her cat ears have long since been discarded into some corner of the limo, and he's already eased down the zipper on her black catsuit and is slowly removing it from her hormonally-charged body. Who could have predicted that a pirate on Halloween could make her feel like a horny teenager once again?
He exposes one breast, immediately tracing her areole with his tongue, causing the peak to stand at attention. She involuntarily wraps her hands around his head, pulling him closer, tighter. His stubbly beard tickles the underside of her breast, evoking a series of giggles that result in him pulling away.
"You know, some men might take all that laughing as an insult to one's performance," he remarks, a teasing glint in his eyes.
"Somehow, I have a feeling that you've never suffered from a lack of self-confidence," she returns. She feels her heart hammering in her chest as she watches him cast off his linen undershirt. She has to admit that she's impressed with how intricate his costume is – especially now that parts of it are no longer standing between her and the object of her lustful desires.
She breathes in deeply, attempting to calm herself down. After all, he's sitting beside her, a smirk playing on his lips, and he's practically daring her not make the next move.
She knows that two can play at that game, and she has a feeling that if she sheds her catsuit completely, he'll be back on her, fucking her brains out, before she can blink twice. But – at the same time – she's tired of the games, of the sexual tug-of-war they have going on between them.
Figures that on the night when she needs to find a guy to force thoughts of Logan from her brain, she fixates on the one man whose actions hauntingly resemble the fucked-up lust of her life.
One of her sole regrets is the fact that she and Logan never slept together. She had heard enough stories from Lilly to know that Logan was scorching hot in bed, but during their brief time together, she was too afraid of her sexuality and too afraid of him to fully trust him and seize the opportunity that lay before her.
Fuck games, she thinks, and she kisses her Captain Jack full on the mouth, hands quickly working on removing his wide belt and his pants. She is going to enjoy this, enjoy him, and do what she can to push off the inevitable awkwardness that she'll have to face the following day.
He's reaching blindly into the small drawer beside their limo seat as her nimble hand wraps around his manhood. He moans in response, and his hand moves around more desperately, earnestly seeking out the small foil packet.
"Easy, baby," he murmurs gently, but she knows that his soft tone belies his obvious arousal. "Besides, it seems as if my pussy is wearing far too much at this point."
Reluctantly, she releases her hold on his cock and discards the remainder of her costume. She lays out on the opposite seat, a sultry look upon her face. "Your pirate wench is ready, Cap'n."
His lips twist into a wide grin as he fits on the rubber before looming over her and slowly easing himself into her wet center. His entrance sends a shot of electricity throughout her body, and she feels almost complete, as if some missing piece of her has finally been found.
He starts to move, in and out, as he places gentle kisses all over her exposed skin. She wraps her legs around his waist and urges him to move faster and harder as she feels her grip on reality fading with each thrust.
Then she's crying out, clutching involuntarily at his long black wig before her body goes completely limp. In her post-good sex haze, she's only peripherally aware of his actions until he collapses bonelessly on top of her. Oddly enough, she doesn't feel trapped or crushed – she feels protected and loved. His weight is strangely comforting and reassuring, and she's crazy for having such thoughts about a man she hardly knows.
When his lips move instinctively to the sensitive spot on her neck, just below her ear, she lets out a sound of approval. She can't remember the last time a man just knew where to find that erogenous zone without getting direction from her.
In fact, come to think of it, the last guy that knew about that sweet spot was the one that had discovered it in the first place on a warm spring day. She and Logan were making out in the pool house, when he suddenly hit upon a spot that sent waves of pleasure shooting down her spine like nothing she'd felt before. He had, of course, then taken on the responsibility of christening the location with a decent-sized hickey, forcing her to wear turtlenecks for the next few days.
Could the guy she picked up in a bar to forget Logan really be the one and only Logan Echolls himself?
"Logan?" she tries tentatively, half-afraid that she's opening herself to a world of embarrassment.
"I told you to call me Captain Jack, Vee," he groans, shifting slightly so that he's no longer lying directly on top of her.
"Why the fuck didn't you tell me your real name?" she questions, quickly removing his pirate wig.
"Would you have wanted anything to do with me if I had?" he returns, reaching up to massage his now-tender scalp.
"I would have wanted to talk to you about where the hell you disappeared to six years ago," she counters.
"Really now?" he replies, a cocky smile on his face as his hand absently dances across the still-sensitive skin of her chest. "Was that something you had planned on including among your interview questions for tomorrow?"
"You manipulative bastard!" Veronica cries, her post-coital haze effectively ruined as she forces herself to sit upright and back away from him and his very talented hands. "I knew there had to be a reason why Martin suddenly gave me a last-minute entertainment assignment."
"Shit, Veronica, I wanted to talk to you, and with my recent rise among to a position among Hollywood's elite comes some clout. I figured you'd never give me the time of day if you weren't forced to come into contact with me. So, yes, I contacted your boss and offered the Los Angeles Times an exclusive interview with me about my new movie on the condition that you would be the one to do the interview."
"Wonderful. And now I'm supposed to believe that you didn't determine my whereabouts for this evening ahead of time? That you didn't come to the Pink Flamingo with the intent to seduce me? You probably purposefully picked a costume that would fully hide your identity, so you could con your way into my pants."
"First - I had no idea you were going to be here tonight," he ticks off on his fingers, his lack of patience with this topic abundantly clear. "Second – you approached me, Mars. What can I say – you had me at 'Care for a fuck?'"
"You're hardly Jerry Maguire," she snarks as she pulls her knees to her chest, suddenly hyperaware of her nakedness.
"And, finally," he finishes, ignoring her snide comment, "I don't know why you're so fucking shocked that I came dressed as a pirate. You've known for years that I think pirates are fucking awesome."
The limo pulls to a stop, and he adds, "We're here. If you want to spend the night, you're more than welcome, but if you don't feel comfortable, or if you still don't fucking trust me after six fucking years have passed, then I can have my driver take you home."
She doesn't move at his words, unsure of how to respond. As much as she hates to admit it, Logan does have a point. If she'd known it was him, she would have never approached him, hit on him, or made out with him – and she certainly wouldn't have fucked him in his limo.
"I guess the thing that really bothers me," she begins quietly, unsure of how her night of nameless sex transformed so easily into a night of true confessions, "is the fact that the only reason I was so dead-set on finding a man to distract me tonight is because I was so fucking nervous about my last-minute assignment for tomorrow. I've been wanting to tell you for years now that I was sorry for not trusting you, and I wasn't sure if it would be too late now, or if you'd even want to see me.
"And then here I am, relishing in the afterglow in some of the best sex I've had in a long time, when I realize that the man I've been thinking of as 'Captain Jack' is actually the man that I've been trying to forget about."
"I'm sorry too, you know," he begins, moving tentatively to sit beside her once more. "When Trina suggested that I take the GED and skip my senior year, it sounded like the perfect plan. I didn't want to deal with the paparazzi. I didn't want to deal with what I thought was the inevitability of you going back to Duncan. I just couldn't deal, so I bailed and spent the year getting wasted in Europe with my sister."
"I missed you," she shares, unfolding her arms and legs as she reaches out to clasp his hand with her own. The chaste movement feels almost trite given the fact that they're both stark naked and the air around them is still heavy with the smell of sex and sweat. At the same time, it feels right, like it's the next logical step that they need to take.
"I missed you too," he says quietly, almost as if saying those words constitutes admitting a weakness of some sort. Then she sees the pain shining back in his eyes and realizes that his tone has less to do with his intentions and more to do with the sad memories they bring to mind.
"Do you think we could ever start over?" she wonders aloud. "Could we try again?"
He smiles at her suggestion. "I'd like that. What do you say we seal it with a kiss?"
"Just a kiss?" she remarks dubiously, causing him to roll his eyes in response before dazzling her with an electric kiss.
So, yeah, maybe the whole situation is a little funny after all. How often do a boy and a girl that were separated once upon a time find another chance to start anew?
Maybe they won't find happily ever after together, and maybe whatever has started tonight won't last more than another month. But right now Veronica has an opportunity to erase a regret she's carried with her for years by having the sex that she missed out on back in high school.
She may not know how things will work out between her and Logan in the end, but she does know one thing.
else, the sex will be fan-fucking-tastic.
Thanks so much for reading! I really hope that you enjoyed this. Feedback is always appreciated. And, a sequel is in the works, so keep your eyes peeled for that. :)