DISCLAIMER: Characters of Veronica Mars, any recognizable dialogue, and the canon events of their storyline belong to Rob Thomas.

A/N:

Got a busy week ahead of me ... decided to post early so I didn't forget later in the week. Enjoy!

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Picks up the scene/conversation from the end of Chapter 9:

Thursday 25 June 2015 – after dinner, back at Veronica's apartment

"Eli … if we …" A moan escaped from my throat. "It would change everything."

He stopped kissing my neck long enough to turn me around and look me in the eye. His tone was completely serious as he said, "I agree. But would that be so bad?"

Chapter 10

"Eli …" I considered my answer. How could I boil down all the swirling thoughts in my head? I couldn't, but I could tell him my primary concern. "I wouldn't feel right about having a one-night stand or … a fling with you."

"Good. That's not what I want."

"What do you want?"

"I want you. I want a future with you."

"What are you saying? Are you asking …?"

"It's a little soon for that. But yes, I'm talking about building a life with you."

"How would we do that with me here and you in Neptune? Your life, your business, your daughter … are all there. But I can't imagine going back there."

"Seriously?! You want to do this now?! You want a plan before we—"

"I can't start something without having an idea of—"

"I've got news for you … we already started something." He kissed me, testing the waters to see if we were finished with the talking portion of the evening. When I gently pushed him away, he said, "Fine. How's this: We talk as often as possible. I come here … I don't know, maybe once a month."

"And then what?"

He leaned against the counter next to me and took my hand in his, kissing the back of it. By the look on his face, it seemed that he was taking my question seriously. Finally, he said, "I told you that I've been planning to expand, open another location. My top choice is San Diego. I could move there to run the new shop. I'd be close enough to Neptune for Valentina to see family." Turning his head toward me, he asked, "Would San Diego work for you?"

I was stunned. The man actually had a plan. This thing between us might have a chance; we might have a chance … at a future together. "I can't guarantee that I could get a job there after graduation. But yeah … that might work." Looking down at our intertwined fingers, I asked softly, "You'd really come here every month? Can you afford to do that?"

"I don't think I can afford not to." He looked into my eyes as he brought my hand to his lips again. "Everything settled?"

I had no words, but I managed to make sound: "Mm-hmm."

He reached behind me to unzip the back of my dress. I turned to give him better access. He slid the top of my dress over my shoulders and allowed it to slide down to the floor, where it pooled at my feet. I turned to face him, and he began to trace the strap of my bra just as he had done in my dream. Not that I minded standing before him exposed in this way – in a bra, panties, and high heels – but I wanted to see him and touch him too. As I started to unbutton the top of his shirt, he got to work on the buttons of the cuffs. We both moved slowly, maintaining eye contact. When the last button had been freed from its hole, I pushed his shirt past his shoulders and let my fingers ghost down his arms. He shivered under my touch. I liked the feeling of having power over him. So when he reached for his belt, I stopped him.

"I was told years ago about your legendary status. Time to find out for myself."

As I began to unbuckle his belt, he said, "That mouth of yours …"

A crooked smile played on my lips as I thought about the strip poker dream and the things he had said to me on our last day of roleplaying. "I'm assuming you'd like me to … oh how did you say that? … something like 'put my sweet mouth to good use.'"

He groaned. "Yes, but not yet."

By now, his pants were off, and we were standing nose to nose in the same state of undress as we had been in my dream. His hands were familiarizing themselves with my bare skin as his eyes took me in. It was like time was moving at half speed. I was enjoying hovering in this moment, but … damn, if he didn't pick up the pace soon, I would do it for him.

He must have sensed my impatience, because he laughed and said, "Be patient, Veronica. I've waited a long time for this. And there is no way in hell I'm gonna rush this."

Lifting me up, he set me on the counter, and I wrapped my legs around him. For several minutes, we kissed and caressed every part of each other that we could reach. I must have finally hit an overly sensitive spot on his neck, because he growled and then suddenly lifted me off the counter.

Then he headed down the hallway to my bedroom. Finally.

At the foot of my bed, he put his hands under my armpits and lifted me away from himself, tossing me onto the mattress. Then he lifted my left foot – still wearing my heels – and began kissing from my ankle to my knee. Raising my leg straight up, he kissed the back of my knee and then proceeded the length of my leg until he reached my panties. After he bent my knees, he turned his attention where it was needed and wanted.

He blew out his breath over the damp spot on my panties. When I shivered, he laughed. When I grabbed onto his head in an attempt to encourage him to get on with it, he again said, "Be patient."

After spending a significant amount of time using his hand and mouth over the fabric, he finally pulled the panties down my legs – at an excruciatingly slow pace. Then, he went to work in earnest, bringing me to orgasm with his mouth.

He stood up and gazed down on me – both admiring my body and the dazed, sated look he was responsible for. Still a little delirious, I sat up and said, "My turn."

Scooting myself to sit on the edge of the mattress, I pulled on his hips to bring him toward me. Looking up into his eyes, I slid his boxer briefs down his thighs. After the attention he had lavished on me, I wanted to return the favor. After all, trading favors was the basis of our relationship, right?

The sounds he made, the way he held my head firmly – yet gently – in his hands. I think I enjoyed it almost as much as he did. But just when I thought he was at the point of release, he pulled my head away from him and said, "Enough." Then he hurried over to his suitcase to get a condom.

Lying back on the bedspread, I watched as he rolled the condom on. Then he glanced up at me with a hungry look in his eyes. He moved back toward me, grabbed my legs, and put my feet – high heels and all – up on his shoulders. Then he took hold of my hips and pulled me toward him.

It took my breath away when he entered me. It might have been the angle, but he seemed to fill me in a way I had never experienced. It didn't take long before he had brought me to my second orgasm of the night.

After he disposed of the condom, he returned to me and removed my heels and bra. Then he pulled back the blanket, and we got under the sheet.

He drew circles on my belly with his finger. But he didn't seem to have anything to say though.

I figured we would drift off to sleep and do any necessary talking in the morning. But when I said, "That was quite a way to end the night," he said, "Wrong. Quite a way to start the night."

"What?"

"If you think I'm letting you go to sleep, you are dead wrong. I plan on having you scream my name 'til the sun comes up."

"You're serious?"

"Can't have you screaming more in a dream about me than in real life," he teased.

Blushing, I said, "I told you, I was dreaming about Emilio."

"Whatever. Still can't have that. Your best sex should be happening during waking hours … with me."

We cuddled for a while more. I turned his words – now, earlier, and in the past several days – over in my head. He was staking his claim to me, to my body. Possessive, but not in the same controlling way Emilio would have been. But right now, if someone asked me, I would have to admit that this felt right, felt like home. It felt like I was his, and I couldn't pinpoint when it had happened. It felt like it had always been this way.

Finally, he let me go out to the kitchen to get my dessert. I brought it back to bed. He was sitting up against the headboard with his legs stretched out. It reminded me of that night before we left for New Jersey, when he had told me about Jade and I had told him about my mom.

He pulled me onto the bed and lifted me over him so that I was sitting in his lap, straddling him. We fed each other dessert, and we kissed. The kissing eventually led to more sex. Which led to even more sex.

The sky was beautiful as the sun rose.

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Friday 26 June 2015 … & Saturday 27 June 2015

For the next 48 hours, we left my bed only when it was absolutely necessary. And we rarely put on any clothing.

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Sunday 28 June 2015

Even when he was getting ready to leave for the airport on Sunday, he wanted me to stay in the bed. He said he wanted that to be the last thing he saw. He seemed to like my appearance – well-fucked, bed hair, not a stitch of clothing. He seemed proud of himself.

When I insisted on walking him to the door, I wrapped the sheet around me.

By the time he left, he had talked me into flying home for Christmas and for a quick visit in August before classes started. He wanted me to meet his daughter, and I decided that I should tell my dad about us face to face. Eli had purchased my plane tickets for those trips before he left. As much as those days in my apartment seemed like a fantasy, the airline confirmation emails were tangible evidence to the contrary.

This had gotten real. Fast.

He texted from the cab: miss you already.

I had to agree. I had curled up in bed, surrounded by linens that still smelled like him, like us. When I finally got up, I noticed that he had forgotten his dress shirt on the chair. Immediately, I made the decision to NOT wash it – or the pillowcase he had slept on.

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As he was packing his suitcase, I had joked: "Out of sight, out of mind. You'll get back home, and some gorgeous California girl will walk into your shop … and you'll forget all about me."

He had moved over to me so fast that it startled me. "Not true. And not something to joke about." After kissing me senseless, he said, "Woman, your face is burned into my memory. And your name has been tattooed on my heart for years. Now that I know how you taste … how you feel underneath me … how you look after I make you come … There is no way – let me repeat – no way I could ever notice another woman. Get it through that head of yours: You're mine. And you own me. End of story."

In the days after he left, I asked myself how we had gotten to this point.

A long time ago, we used to trade favors. But I hadn't thought of him for years. Until that phone call. Lately, I couldn't think of anything else.

THE END

A/N:

I'm marking this fic as complete. But you never know … At some point, I might come back to fill in the year leading up to the Neptune High reunion. Mostly so I can have Logan say his line to Veronica this way: "I didn't know you and Weevil were a thing." But also because I have a few scenes in my head … Eli visiting her in NYC … Veronica meeting Valentina … them getting settled into a new life in San Diego about the time of the reunion, etc. (If I decide to do that, I will add chapters to this existing fic.)

Thanks to everyone who "pestered" me for more than a year to get back to this! Hope it lived up to your expectations. I'd love to hear your thoughts.

New one-shot (There to Rescue Her, set pre-series) went up at the same time as this chapter.

Now that this is finished, I will turn my attention back to Commence (Along the Road – Part 3). I plan to update that fic by late December, and I'll try to find time to post a few one-shots. After all, the holidays are a time for gifts and surprises.

Until next time …

~Jen

19 November 2019