Spoilers through 210, One Angry Veronica. However, this is mostly a futurefic, really, so there aren't any big spoilers, I don't think.
Hope you enjoy, and I'll see you at the bottom!
"Honey, I'm home!"
"I'm in the kitchen, Logan!" Veronica calls out to him, as she hears the front door of their small house slam shut. "How was your day?"
"Work was a dreadful pain in the ass, as always. Can you believe that I got three more invitations to awards banquets or youth concerts or some other crap like that? As if my giving them money isn't enough!"
Veronica knows that Logan doesn't really view his days at the "office" as work, especially since he usually spends most days in transit, going from location to location, checking out possible organizations that he can donate his billions of dollars to. He loves what he does, and he tends to give special attention to organizations that deal with addiction and abuse as those were both challenges that he faced in his own life.
After Trina died of a drug overdose a few years back, Logan wised up and got off his own self-destructive path and became determined that there be an Echolls who didn't totally fuck up his life beyond repair.
Of course, the fact that her dad was there to nudge him in the right direction helped too.
She herself was away in Los Angeles for college, studying criminal justice and not wanting anything to do with Logan at that time, after their very explosive breakup during the summer after graduation. She wonders sometimes if maybe her dad understood better than anyone else did that there was something special about Logan, something that made him the perfect match for her.
She notices the light of the setting sun reflecting off her plain-by-09er-standards wedding band, and she remembers how good these last few years have been for them. Of course, their life isn't purely hearts and flowers, and some days there's more than enough emotional turmoil to make her wonder why the hell she loves the asshole so much. However, when he fucks up, he usually does what he can to make it up to her – like when he recreated their first date with a sail on what is now his boat – and she has to admit that he usually tolerates her monthly mood swings and PMS better than she probably deserves.
Or, at the very least, he stays clear and dances around the broken eggshells as best he can.
"So what are we having for dinner?" he asks, ambling towards the kitchen.
"Oh, no you don't!" Veronica cries out in response, quickly setting the mixing bowl and wooden spoon on the countertop and rushing into the hall to shoo him away. "It's a surprise."
"This isn't a surprise like when you tried that eggplant-salmon casserole a few weeks back is it?" he questions warily.
"No, but I thought you liked that casserole, honey."
"Of course, I did. I just – I'm not in the mood for fish tonight."
She knows for a fact that he hated it – despite his protest to the contrary. She knows her husband well enough, after all, to know when he's lying to her. He knows how important honesty is to her, and he always gets this guilty/half-worried look in his eyes when he's telling even the most minor of fibs.
Plus, there is always the fact that no amount of smooth talking or convincing 'yums' can override his initial cringing with the first bite.
It didn't matter – not really. She'd gotten the recipe from Mac at work and had wanted to try it, just to see what it was like. Logan just isn't such a fan of the vegetarian fare.
A few minutes of silence pass between them, as Veronica finishes up dinner while Logan – most probably – works on the crossword puzzle, just like he does every night before dinner.
"Dinner is served," she announces a moment later, presenting his plate to him with a flourish.
"Great, I'm starv – " He stops short mid-sentence when he sees just what's on his plate. "Pancakes, Veronica? You are aware that it's well past noon, right?"
"Yes, I can read a clock, Logan," she replies, setting the bottle of maple syrup on the table. "I was just in the mood for pancakes tonight."
"Are we out of meat or something?" he questions carefully. "I mean, pancakes are fantastic. I just don't know how well these little bitty, baby pancakes that you made are going to fill me up."
"Don't worry, Logan. There's plenty more where those came from." She nods in the direction of the kitchen, and he nods, completely clueless as to the little mystery game she's trying to play with him tonight. She's curious about how long it'll take for him to catch on.
"You don't have anything planned for September third, do you, Logan?" she queries after taking a few bites.
"That's like 7 months away, Veronica. I'll have to check my schedule, but I have a feeling I could rearrange anything that I do have planned. Why?"
"No real reason," she returns, an enigmatic smile on her face.
She has to work hard to keep her laughter bottled up inside at the look she sees on his face. It's his standard 'I'm married to a crazy woman' expression – a mixture of bafflement and wariness. This is getting to be a lot more fun than she thought.
She steals the crossword from him, earning only a bemused smile in return. She quickly scans the puzzle, looking for a perfect word to use for her plan.
"Mmm, Logan. Twenty-seven across. Six-letter word for 'short sight.' First letter M, last letter A."
"Myopia?" he guesses after pausing for a few moments, the confused look still fixed upon his face. They don't usually spend dinnertime working crosswords together – or apart even, so he has to be wondering where she's going with this.
"Oooh, good call," she lauds him, shooting him an encouraging smile that does nothing to allay his puzzlement. "Fourteen down. Four letter word for 'wee.' Last letter Y."
"Baby," he responds without even having to think twice. His eyes bug out a moment later once he realizes the implication of what he just said. "Baby!" he repeats, pointing to the baby pancakes on his plate. "Veronica, are you – I mean, we – are we … ?"
"Pregnant," she nods with a smile, standing and moving towards him for a sweet kiss.
"Due the third of September?" he questions a moment later, and she nods in response. She knew he'd figure out each of the clues after the fact.
He stands to embrace her, leaning back and pulling her feet off the floor, as her arms are tightly wrapped around his neck.
And then, just as suddenly, she's back on the ground, and he's backing away, looking down at her tummy nervously. "I didn't hurt her or anything, did I?" he worries.
She smiles despite herself, amused at how little he knows about babies and pregnancy. Then again, she did get some practice when Alicia had Dustin Mars-Fennell almost five years ago.
"He's fine," she responds, stepping back into his arms. "I can do everything I could before I was pregnant." She goes up on her tiptoes and presses a kiss to the slope of his neck, just above his necktie. "And I want to do everything," she adds, blatantly ogling him.
Logan responds to her come on, of course – after all, he has never been one to ignore an invitation to sex – but he does so in a way that is unique, for him at least. He reaches down to grab around her knees with one hand, pulling her fully into his arms. He then carries her gallantly down the short hall to their bedroom, leaving their dinner unfinished on the table.
Veronica considers objecting that she can walk or that they could have just fucked on the dining room table like they did last week. At the same time, however, she understands that this is probably Logan's protective instinct shining through, and he wants to make sure that she's comfortable and that the baby's safe and protected.
It's rather endearing, actually, now that she thinks about it. Given the fact that all of his blood relatives are dead – either through their own means or at the request of a jury of his peers – she understands how important she is to him, and how important this new life is to him as well.
He lays her gently on the bed, and quickly strips down to his boxers before asking the question that she figured was probably coming.
"So … everything is okay? No positions that are dangerous or possibly troublesome?"
She shakes her head, pulling her shirt over her head before reaching for his hand and pulling him down beside her on the bed. Some positions might get a bit uncomfortable and complicated in a few months, but there was no point in mentioning that now.
She kisses him gently and runs her fingers through his short brown hair before tracing her fingertips along his sides and delving inside his boxer shorts.
"You know what would be even better than pancakes?" she whispers into his ear as a wicked grin stretches across her face.
He has the good manners to let out a very-pleased-sounding sigh when her hand first grasps his hard length. She knows, however, that it won't take much more to have him shouting out her name.
She leaves a trail of kisses from his mouth, down his chest – paying special attention to both nipples, as well as his belly button – before shucking off his boxers and concentrating on the sensitive skin at the junction between his legs and his pelvis, mere inches away from what would be her final destination.
She's nipping gently at his skin, teasing it with soft kisses, and even tasting it tentatively, loving the tang of his sweet sweat. He's kicking his legs out involuntarily at times – she's learned that when she subjects him to this exquisite torture, she needs to stay clear of his feet if she wants to avoid getting any hard-to-explain bruises on her body.
As her mouth moves progressively closer to its target, she feels his muscles tense in anticipation. And then she's tentatively kissing the head and slowly taking the length of him into her mouth. Her hand moves to wrap around his shaft, when a single word from him stills her.
More than a little confused, she sits up and straddles one of his legs as she savors the taste of his pre-cum before asking, "What was that?"
"Shit, Veronica, you're the one carrying my child. If anything, I should be going down on you."
She's more than a little bit amused by his train of thought, but that thought is definitely not one that she cares to argue with – now, or ever. Logan's hands and mouth are very talented, after all, and her OB/GYN did mention that she'll probably be a lot more sensitive down below until after the baby is born.
"Compromise?" she proposes, as she shifts to straddle his waist.
"Mmm, mutual bliss," he agrees, as she slides down over him.
Her movements are slow at first, steady even. Up and down, up and down – methodical, regular. Then he starts raising his hips off the mattress and rising to meet her halfway. The first time their bodies jar against each other, she can't help but let out a moan of delight. That was fucking fantastic.
So they repeat the action again, and again, and Veronica notices in wonderment that every time with Logan is like the first time, all over again. Sure, she knows where to touch or what to say to turn him on better now than she did a few years back, but at the same time, things always seem to be new and exciting between them.
Moments later, she ceases to have coherent thought at all, as she's shaking like a ragdoll as she feels her orgasm shoot through her body, from the tips of her toes to the depths of her bones. Logan swiftly flips their positions, thrusting into her a few more times before collapsing beside her, fully spent.
They doze for a few moments, spooning up against each other, until Logan breaks the silence with a simple question.
"Have you told your father yet?"
"I figured it was more important to tell the baby's father first, actually," she responds, wondering where that question came from.
"So, tomorrow then?"
"Why the rush?" she queries, pressing a sweet kiss against his well-toned chest. "I was figuring we'd invite the whole family over for dinner at some point and tell them then."
"Well, isn't your dad going to wonder why you're taking so much time off of work?"
"Relax, Logan. I won't be going maternity leave for at least another three or four months. And I promise you, my father will know by that time."
"Veronica, your job is hardly safe for a woman in your condition," he reminds her, as if she's forgotten what sort of job she had.
"It's fine, Logan. It's been at least a week since I was last shot at."
"What?" he erupts, pulling away from her and effectively ruining what's left of her post-coital haze. "Why the fuck didn't you tell me about that?"
"I was kidding," she reassures him, turning up to kiss him. "You know my father would never give me a job that could result in gunfire. No matter how old I am, I'll always be his little girl."
"Fine," he sulks, pulling her back towards him as he traces the curves of her body with his hands.
"I can feel the baby," he remarks in wonderment a moment later, as he's moving his fingertips gently over her belly.
"Don't be silly. I'm only like eight weeks along. We probably won't be able to feel her move for another month or two."
"No, not movement, but I can feel where he is. You're starting to show." His voice is quiet, reverent almost, as he's tracing a faint, circular outline on her belly.
"Logan, the baby is the size of a cashew. Besides, I can't be showing already. That's just … I've just been really hungry lately."
"You are eating for two now, Vee."
"Shut up, you asshole," she snarks, but there's no bite to her words at all.
"I love you," he shares, gently caressing her cheek.
"I love you too," she agrees, laying a soft kiss on his lips.
"Our baby is going to be the cutest, brightest, and funniest kid in the world."
"That's a lot for her to live up to, don't you think?"
"Any baby that comes from your genetic material is bound to be perfect," he says after a minute, and she tries to resist the sappiness she feels threatening to overtake her emotions.
Okay, so she knows that pregnancy isn't going to be the easiest thing in the world to get through. After all, she's heard horror stories about morning sickness and moodiness and crazy midnight cravings and – of course – the actual pain of giving birth itself.
Still, Veronica knows that together, she and Logan can get through this. He can hold her hair back when she praying to the porcelain gods, and he'll soon become a master at finding random foods in the nearby grocery store to obey her every whim.
The biggest challenge though is – of course – after the baby is born, and they have to take care of and raise the little one. She wants so much for this baby to have the happy and carefree youth that she and Logan never got to fully experience.
Together as one, she and Logan will do what they each can to take care of this baby – now and for the rest of its life.
So ... Surprise?
I wish I could say that this fic is the result of the muses getting back to work, but I'm afraid that RL has been keeping me too busy to write as of late. I should (hopefully) have a bit more free time this weekend, so we'll see what happens then.
Anyhow, I was looking through the various fics that I have saved on my hard drive, and I found a couple that - for some reason - had never been published. There are maybe 10 or so fics - most are L/V, but I think there's one Mac/Cassidy and another Logan/Lilly and maybe another general Logan fic or so. Bottom line: Look for those coming up soon.
Also, I did find a first chapter of a now completely abandoned multi-chap fic (seriously, I don't even remember what my plans were for this fic) that's set after 122. I'm happy to post that up if there's interest, but given the lack of anything that will be happening there, I don't want to tease anyone unnecessarily. If you're interested in reading that, please let me know in your review.
Finally: I wouldn't object if there's anyone out there who might be willing to help me out as a beta. I've lost touch with my past betas on VM fic (mostly my own fault for being MIA for so long with writing), and while I could probably publish things un-betaed ... I like that second (or third!) set of eyes reading things over before posting. If you're interested, leave a note in your review or shoot me a PM, and we'll discuss details. :)
This got much more long-winded than I expected. Whoops! Thanks again for reading. Reviews are, of course, filled with love. :)