An Epic Dance of Jazzy Nature by Isabelle
Fandom: Veronica Mars
Ship: Logan/Veronica, SEASON 4
Quickie: Takes off right after 'Gin Joint'.
Prompt: for lacunaclaudia, who requested it
"Didn't I always?"
And she smiles. The rain droplets are still in his hair, and she thinks that this might be the beginning of a beautiful something.
The jazz band that holds its audience captive behind them conspires against her and her perfectly planned platonic moment.
"You give your hand to me, and then you say hello…" The smooth voice calls to them.
She studies his reaction to the song, and he smiles slightly, tilting his head as he stares back at her.
"I have this distinct feeling that you've planned this all out," he ventures, leaning forward and taking the drink offered to him by the perky waitress.
"Have I?" She asks, intrigued by the start of their little repartee. "Starting point?"
"Bad day." He takes a sip of his beer and begins his tale. "Caught my sometimes girlfriend in bed with another guy. But then again, with me, it's a pattern."
"Every so often?" She quips, raising a brow.
"Yes. Particularly when I start remembering a small blonde with a perky smile," he replies and his eyes – the way he looks at her – drench her soul with something akin to longing. She has to look away, because somehow she'll always regret.
"Hence my planning it all out?" She confirms, nodding.
"Yes. I figured it all started with you," he declares and swings back more beer.
"Then it's tradition. Dance with me." She stands up, and he smirks.
"Only if you promise to press yourself on me." He slides back out of his chair and lets her lead. Didn't he always?
"If you're lucky."
"With you? I'm always unlucky," he says and quickly pulls her to him. She can smell him, can feel him, can let him rob her soul tonight. If she so wishes.
They sway a bit, letting the music drench them, letting the music make them epic.
"Remember that summer? You made me watch all seven seasons of Buffy," he says, so very low that she's pretty sure it's considered a whisper.
"We hated Season 4," she remembers. His cheek is on her hair, and she idly wonders if she washed it well today.
"Bad season," he chuckles.
"Terrible season," she agrees.
"But you know… after it was not that bad," he continues. "It got better."
"Time to re-coop," she says slowly.
"Like life," he says, and he suddenly dips her, making her let out a girlish squeal that she would've hated at other times in her life. But tonight… As it rains and they speak of Season 4 of Buffy, a girlish squeal seems fitting.
"So…" And now he's whispering against her ear, and she feels the chills go right down her spine. "When do we begin Season 5?"
She blinks. Man, oh, man. This man is hers.
"Of Buffy?" She feigns innocence.
"Of you and me," he murmurs and twirls her a bit, catching her firmly against his chest. "Of Veronica and Logan."
"I don't know… We'd need one hell of a premiere." She smiles.
"Oh, yeah?" He challenges.
"Oh, yeah," she confirms and, without warning, he lowers his lips to hers and steals the most faint-spell-inducing kiss she's had since… Well, since she last kissed Logan Echolls. Or, rather, since he kissed her.
He kisses her until her small little hands are holding on to his shoulders for fear of melting right onto the jazz floor. He pulls back and kisses her nose.
"How's that?" And he's smiling proudly because he knows he's got her – he's got her good.
"Oh… You know, not bad," she says airily, though she's grasping his shoulders more firmly than before.
"Not bad?" He pretends to be offended. "It was damn epic."
She laughs and, somehow, her forehead rests on his chest. It rumbles to match her. Damn epic.
Yes, it's really the end now.