Little Miss Vixen (amidalashari) wrote,
Little Miss Vixen
amidalashari

Come, They Told Me

Title: Come, They Told Me
Fandom: Veronica Mars
Pairing(s): Logan/Veronica
Word Count: 3270
Rating: NC-17

Summary: Duncan's not so musical theatre after all. The Christmas poker game dissolves into something entirely unexpected.

Notes: AU. Deviates from canon during episode 1:10 - An Echolls Family Christmas. Written for fivebyfiction prompt "strip poker."


"You want a sodey-pop or something?" Weevil asked, as he picked Veronica's bag up off the floor. Veronica shook her head, and walked over to where Duncan sat.

"You know, I think I want something with a little more kick." Ignoring Duncan's protests, Veronica swiped his bottle of the whiskey from the table, and began to drink.

A moment later, she sat it back down with a bang, her eyes already beginning to water. "Damn, girl," Weevil offered, his tone impressed.

"That's not -" Veronica coughed. "That's not what you were drinking last time."

Logan, confused, looked from Veronica to Duncan, who simply shook his head. "No," he said resignedly, taking a swig. "That's not what I was drinking."

"Iced tea?" she guessed, and Duncan nodded.

"How did you -" Weevil asked, and Veronica smiled.

"Duncan can't remember the alphabet when he drinks," she said, and, smiling at Duncan, took another sip of his drink. "Let alone figure out twenty percent of the pizza bill."

-

As Weevil led Sean out of the pool house, Logan stood. Grabbing a screwdriver, he walked over to the air vent, and Veronica smiled. You got that from Lilly, she wanted to say.

"How about we get into the hard stuff?" he asked, looking around. His gaze landed on Veronica, as if challenging her to decline. She could still feel the burn from Duncan's whiskey earlier, and smiled.

"Sounds good," she said, and Logan nodded, smiling a little. Sitting down in one of the empty chairs, Veronica smiled, too. As Logan lay what looked to be the entire contents of his liquor cabinet out on the table, Veronica raised her eyebrows.

"What?" Logan asked, looking around again. "Anyone have anywhere they need to be tomorrow?"

"No," Duncan said, and even Connor shook his head.

"We break over Christmas," Connor said.

Logan looked at Veronica. "Nope," she said.

"Good," Logan said, and poured her a drink. "So who deals?"

"I'll deal," Duncan offered, and took the pack of cards. After they had been dealt, Veronica took hers, and looked around the table. This was going to be interesting.

By the time Weevil returned, Veronica was two drinks in and a few hands up. "Drinking now, V?" he asked, looking at her appraisingly.

"Yo, vato, you in or not?" Logan asked. Connor shot him a disapproving look, and he shrugged. Weevil slid into his chair.

"We've got tequila," Logan said, as he slid his chips into the pot. He looked at Weevil. "No worm, sorry."

"Bourbon?" Weevil asked, and Duncan slid it towards him.

Connor won that hand, and Duncan grimaced. "Your turn to deal," Connor told Weevil, as he gathered his chips.

As Weevil dealt, Logan poured Veronica another drink, and she looked at him suspiciously. She would have worried that he was trying to get her drunk, except that he made himself a drink, too. Raising his glass, he looked at Veronica, and smiled.

As she took a sip, Veronica looked at her cards. Not great, but she could work with it. She threw in her chips.

"So what's the deal with this party?" Weevil asked, and Logan made a face.

"What, you weren't invited?" Logan asked sarcastically. "Gee, what an oversight."

Weevil said nothing, so eventually, Logan continued. "They do it every year," he said, taking a healthy sip of his drink. "My dad works the crowd, everyone else works the bar, and they all listen to Christmas carols and think about what Christmas is really all about: booze and money." He looked at Connor. "I'm surprised you're not out there."

Connor shook his head. "I get enough of that when I'm working," he said.

As Logan raked in the pot, Weevil shook his head, and laughed. "Hey, Veronica," he said, looking pointedly at Logan. "Did you know -"

"No," Logan interrupted him, as Veronica began to deal. "She doesn't."

To Veronica's surprise, Weevil simply shrugged and sat back in his chair. Logan was staring at him, and Connor was looking on, amused. Shaking her head, Veronica finished dealing the cards.

"I'm surprised you even celebrate Christmas," Logan said later, after Weevil had just won a closely contested hand. "I mean, lumps of coal aren't cheap, you know."

"Neither are honeymoon suites at the Neptune Grand," Weevil countered, as Duncan shuffled the cards. Logan scowled.

By the time that hand was over, Logan was definitely in the lead, with Weevil following closely. Veronica was trailing Connor, and Duncan was well behind, though, with his bottle of whiskey nearly empty, he didn't seem to mind.

Veronica wished she could have read Logan's face as he raised her yet again. She wasn't sure whether it was because his poker face was that good, or because of the drinks Logan kept pouring her, and she resisted the urge to refill her glass.

After Logan raised her for the fifth time, Veronica frowned. Duncan and Weevil had long since folded, and Connor, looking resigned, did the same. "You know I don't have enough to call you," she said, and Logan shrugged. But what came out of his mouth next was not what she had been expecting.

"You're still dressed."

Veronica expected one of the other guys to argue, to protest that that wasn't how the game was played. But instead, they all looked suddenly interested.

"You can't be serious," she said to Logan, but he just smiled. She knew that smile.

"You can fold if you like," he said smugly, finishing his drink. Veronica looked down at her meagre pile of chips. She thought about not being able to get her dad a Christmas present this year.

In a move that surprised even her, Veronica pulled off her shirt, setting it on top of the chips. All she had to do was win this hand to get it back.

Logan whistled, and Veronica fought back the urge to hit him. Duncan seemed torn between looking at her and not looking at her, Connor stared at her openly, and Weevil ostensibly tried to look anywhere else.

"I call," she said.

Veronica could have screamed as the cards were revealed. Her hand had been good; she knew it was good.

Logan's was better.

He laughed as he raked in his chips, and then, smirking at her, poured Veronica another drink. Veronica knew it probably wasn't the best idea to accept it, but she needed the distraction.

Weevil dealt next.

As Logan threw in his chips, Veronica fully expected him to throw in her shirt. When he didn't, she stared at him.

"What?" Logan asked, returning the stare. Veronica willed herself not to blush.

"My shirt?" she asked pointedly.

"You mean my shirt," Logan said, taking a drink.

"Aren't you going to bet it?" she asked testily.

"Now, why would I want to do that?" he asked, and smiled at her, clearly enjoying her discomfort. Now, Veronica did blush.

When her turn came, Veronica looked at Logan. She knew all too well that it was pointless to argue with him when he was being stubborn, though if they hadn't had an audience, she probably would have done it anyway.

Veronica could have killed him when he raised the pot yet again. This time, everyone had stayed in. She pushed the rest of her chips into the centre of the table.

He raised again.

"I fold," Veronica said, when it came to her turn. "Now, can I have my shirt, please?"

"I don't think so," Logan said, and looked at her. She gaped at him.

"It's my shirt now," he reminded her.

Veronica had three options, as she saw it. She could wrestle him for it; tempting, but she really wasn't keen on the idea of having Logan pressed against her while she was shirtless. She could leave without it, and walk back to her car, in front of all his parents' guests, clad only in jeans and a bra.

Or she could call.

Veronica undid her belt and laid it on the table, silently daring Logan to object.

He didn't.

She won.

The next hand went to Connor, and no more clothes were added to the pot.

The hand after that, Duncan ran out of chips.

"You know the rules, man," Logan told him, as Duncan groaned. Rolling his eyes, he pulled off a shoe and sat it on the table.

Logan kept staring at him until Duncan's other shoe joined it.

"Much better," Logan said, and proceeded to rake in his winnings.

It was Logan's turn to deal, and Duncan looked at him when it was his turn to bet. "In or out?" Logan asked him. Duncan peeled off his socks.

Veronica won that hand, and the next, raking in Duncan's shirt with a smile. As Duncan bet his jeans, Connor pulled off his own shirt, and Veronica's smile widened.

When Connor won, she took another drink, though she was sightly mollified when he immediately put his shirt back in the pot.

As she dealt, most eyes were on Duncan in his boxers, though Veronica could feel their attention periodically turning back on her. She finished her drink, and Logan seemed only too happy to refill it as he poured more for himself.

When Duncan's turn came, he shook his head. "I fold," he said. When the hand was over, and Logan had won, Veronica gave Duncan back his jeans and socks, and Connor handed over his shirt.

"My shoes?" Duncan asked Logan.

"My shoes," Logan corrected him.

Duncan left in his socks.

As Logan dealt, he was clearly still winning, though Veronica wasn't doing too badly. Connor, though shirtless, still had chips in front of him, and Weevil was down significantly.

As Weevil pushed the rest of his chips into the pot, Logan, not surprisingly, raised him. Connor called.

Weevil paused for a moment, and Veronica realised that he was looking at her. "Nah," man, he said finally. "I'm out."

He kept looking at Veronica, and she looked back at him. "V?" he asked, a note of concern in his voice. "You be okay?"

Veronica smiled at him. "I'll be fine," she assured him, sounding surprisingly more sober than she felt. Nodding reluctantly, Weevil left.

Connor won that hand.

They played a few more, with nobody losing any more clothes, but all three getting steadily drunker. Connor was leering at Veronica openly now, and Logan - surprisingly, given that he was winning - didn't look happy.

Veronica won again, which she thought put her at least even with Logan. Connor dealt the next hand, and pushed half his remaining chips forward.

Logan called, but Connor, seemingly emboldened by his near-loss, continued to raise. He put his shoes on the table.

Veronica, not ashamed to admit that she was excited by the prospect of winning Connor Larkin's clothes, raised him right back. Connor and Logan both called.

After Veronica had raked in her winnings, she shuffled and dealt, absentmindedly pushing her glass towards Logan for a refill. Smiling at her, he obliged.

"Come on," Connor said, as he stripped off his jeans. "I can't be the only one losing my clothes here."

Veronica, in a vodka and nearly naked movie star-induced good mood, added her belt back into the pot, along with her shoes. Logan, grinning, added his shirt.

They turned over the cards. Logan won.

After the next hand had been dealt, Veronica looked openly at Connor and his two million dollar abs. She didn't know if she had expected him to fold like Duncan, but, flashing her a smile, he stripped out of his boxer briefs and laid them on the table.

Damn.

Veronica had never been happier to win a hand of poker in her life.

As Veronica raked in Connor's underwear, Logan's shoes, and her own socks, Connor stood up proudly. Veronica took the opportunity to ogle, but then Logan threw Connor's shirt and jeans at him. Veronica, smiling, handed over his socks, shoes, and underwear.

Connor pulled on his jeans, then handed his boxer briefs back to Veronica, smiling. "Keep them," he said, winking at her.

Logan stood up.

After Connor had left, Logan poured himself another drink, and Veronica tucked Connor's underwear into her bag. She dealt.

After a few hands, Logan seemed in a much better mood, though Veronica was winning. She caught him smiling at her a few times, and looking more seriously at her - or rather, at her bra - once or twice.

She won that hand, too.

As they played on, there seemed to be an unspoken rule that they weren't just playing with chips. Veronica added her socks back to the pot, and Logan added his. The next round, she won his belt.

After that, they grew bolder; Veronica put it down to liquid courage. After Veronica won a particularly generous round, Logan was the first to add his jeans.

He was wearing reindeer boxers. Veronica smiled, and Logan caught her looking.

"Like what you see?" he asked, and for once, his smug tone didn't bother her. Her smile widened instead.

"I got those for you," she said, and Logan smiled, too.

"Yeah," he said. "I remember."

"Freshman year."

Logan laughed. "You got Duncan and I the same gift. I thought he was going to pass out."

Veronica laughed then, too. "Yeah, I remember. Lilly thought it was hilarious. She wanted you guys to put them on in front of us."

Logan's laughter faded, but he was still smiling. "Yeah," he said.

When Logan next raised her, Veronica added her own jeans to the pot. She blushed as she remembered the last time she had sat across from Logan the same way.

From the look on Logan's face, he was remembering it, too.

"It's warm," Veronica said, as she gathered in the chips. She would never admit to it, but she didn't want to put her jeans back on any more. It seemed wrong not to have a level playing field, somehow.

"Unseasonably," Logan agreed.

They bet with chips for the next couple of rounds, neither quite wanting to take that game further. Whatever understanding they had come to, Veronica was afraid of breaking it, and she assumed that Logan felt the same.

Until he spoke.

"Something isn't quite even here," he said teasingly, looking at Veronica. Even through the warmth of the pool house and the vodka, Veronica felt herself blush. Logan was looking pointedly at her bra.

"That's not the same," she protested, resisting the urge to cross her arms over her chest. Logan kept smiling at her.

So, at the next hand, Veronica unfastened her bra and threw it on the table. Logan, for once in his life, was speechless. "Your call," she said.

Logan pushed in his chips.

He won.

The next round, Logan paused before he bet, as if deciding whether or not to include her bra. He didn't.

Veronica raised him as much as she could, watching the pile of chips in the centre of the table grow as hers and Logan's shrunk. Eventually, Logan stood, draining his glass, and stripped off his boxers. He added them to the pot.

Some sort of unspoken challenge had been issued, and, despite her reservations, Veronica didn't want to break it. She stood up, finishing her own drink for good measure.

Logan's eyes never left her body as she stripped off her underwear. Somehow, that seemed right.

Logan won the pot.

When Logan stood up, Veronica didn't bother to keep her eyes off him. He reached out for her hand.

"It is warm," he said, as she took it.

Wordlessly, he led her outside to the pool. The main house was quiet. Veronica had no idea what time it was, though it was still dark.

They stood still for what seemed like an eternity. Then Veronica reached out and pushed Logan into the pool.

Of course, she was still holding his hand at the time, so a moment later, she fell in after him.

Veronica had barely had time to surface when she felt Logan's mouth on hers. They had lied before - it wasn't warm at all outside - but his mouth was, and she kissed him back, pressing her tongue against his, tasting a mixture of chlorine and vodka and something else that was indescribably Logan.

Veronica's nipples were already hard from the cold, and when Logan reached up to graze them, she shivered. He lowered his mouth to her neck, pushing her up against the side of the pool, and Veronica pulled him closer.

When Logan's hand skimmed over her stomach, reaching lower, she pushed him backward. "I'm cold," she said, as he looked at her.

Taking her hand once more, Logan led Veronica out of the pool and back to the pool house.

She was shivering as they entered, and when Logan wrapped himself around her, Veronica was glad of his warmth. Hesitantly, he leaned down to kiss her again, and Veronica returned the kiss. He drew her closer, holding her tightly, and as Veronica felt every bit of his body pressed against hers, she shivered again.

Logan drew back. "Are you cold?" he asked.

Veronica smiled up at him. "No," she said, and kissed him again.

As Logan ran one hand up her spine, Veronica pressed more tightly against him. When his other hand reached between her thighs, she didn't draw back, but moaned against his mouth as he stroked her.

Veronica could feel him hard against her, and she stepped forward once more. His feet tangled in hers, and they went sprawling to the floor, both laughing. Logan rolled over so that he was on top of her, hard against her thigh, his fingers pushing into her. As she kissed him frantically, Logan flicked his thumb against her right there, and Veronica came, groaning into his neck.

"Wait right there," Logan told her as he stood, and Veronica didn't have the energy to disagree. When he came back, he was holding a foil packet. He rolled the condom on, and as he lay on top of Veronica, he studied her intently.

"Are you sure?" he asked quietly, and Veronica looked up to see concern in his eyes. She had been certain of few things in her life, but in that moment, this was one of them.

"Yes," she breathed.

Logan entered her slowly, as if worried she might break, and groaned as he let his weight collapse on her. He drew back slightly, then thrust into her again, quicker this time, and Veronica moaned.

Veronica had been cold when they entered the pool house, but she was sweating now, holding Logan tightly, raking her nails down his back, wanting to hurt him even as she wanted to pleasure him. He kissed her frantically, passionately, and Veronica arched her back as he reached down to touch her again, sending her over the edge.

Logan groaned and shuddered on top of her as he came, biting off her name in a voice that was barely audible. They lay like that for a moment, and Veronica relished the feel of his body pressed against hers, still breathing hard, her lips swollen, tingling everywhere he touched her.

As Logan stood up, Veronica reluctantly followed him, reaching for the nearest bit of clothing she could find.

"You look cute in my shirt," Logan told her, his voice tender. He leaned forward, planting a kiss lightly on her forehead.

Veronica pulled on her jeans, stuffing her shirt and bra in her bag. Turning, she laughed as Logan pulled on his boxers.

He smiled warmly at her, and leaned forward to pick up her underwear. "I'm keeping these," he said.
Tags: fivebyfiction, veronica mars, vm: logan, vm: logan/veronica, vm: veronica
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