One to Forget, One to Remember

Veronica took a deep breath before she exited the terminal, before she reeled headlong into the arms she knew would be waiting for her. It still smells the same, she thought, exactly the same. She paused then, closed her eyes, and prepared herself. This was going to be some Christmas.

Hefting her bags up again she exited the terminal and saw her father there, his eyes relentless until they rested on her. His eyes locked with those of his daughter, and his arms spread wide. Veronica picked up her pace, nearly jogging the few yards toward him until; finally, she was home in his embrace, his chin resting on her head. "Hey kid."

"Hi Dad."

"Glad to have you home." Finally, he let her go and she stepped back. "You look great. I mean, really great. I guess the cold is doing wonders for you."

"Aw, you say that to all the girls. Help me with these bags, will ya? Let's get outta here and get some food. I'm starved!"

"I see New York hasn't changed you too much. Same Veronica."

"Same Veronica," she agreed.

* * * * *

They caught up over baked ziti—although there was not much to say. Veronica had not been back to Neptune since she got married three years ago, it was true, but her father had come to visit her several times, and they talked by phone or webcam often. Veronica did have big news—a bit of it actually—but she just wasn't ready to tell her dad yet. She was barely ready to admit it to herself. She did not relish withholding information, but she found lies of omission were easy to tell him, an old habit that she couldn't seem to shake—along with her appetite for Italian food. For now, it was just good to be home.

* * * * *

Being in Neptune again was a game of avoidance, hence the reason she hadn't been back. But now life was… different. Now she needed to be here and face some of the demons she ran away from. Lord knows she didn't want to run back to New York. She didn't want to run anywhere any more. She wanted to learn to deal with things—to handle what she couldn't handle. She had good reasons now.

Of course, not everyone in Neptune represented a demon from Veronica's past. There was Mac, of course, happily married and building a life. They'd kept in touch after Hearst, through several moves and relationships. Mac was happy now, having fought and won her battles long ago. Mac knew Veronica would be in town over the holidays, and had jumped at the chance to see her without having to get on an airplane and pay the resulting price. It would be nice to have Veronica around again, even if it was for just two weeks. They were going to Java the Hut to talk over coffee and then, who knows where the night would lead them?

Veronica was a little late; she had no desire to be stuck waiting in case Mac wasn't running on time. But she was, and she smiled the second she saw Veronica, rushing to meet her. They sat down at a dark back booth, Veronica still preferring anonymity to any and all alternatives. They hadn't actually seen each other in the flesh since Veronica's wedding, six months after Mac's own, but they fell back into their old ways as if no time had passed.

They talked about everything—careers, families, being adults, marriage. They drank three cups of coffee each, Veronica ordering decaf and claiming she couldn't have caffeine past seven o'clock. "That's what happens when you get old," she'd joked. Being with Mac again was comfortable, like being with her father. If all of Neptune was filled with Keiths and Macs, maybe Veronica wouldn't have left. Maybe she wouldn't have married Gabriel. Maybe she wouldn't… but it was too late for all of that. She had created a life, and now she must live it.

She didn't want to think about that now, the wrong turns she'd taken, the mistakes she'd made in New York. Mac interrupted Veronica's thoughts, "So what's next, Veronica? Wanna break into a computer lab and steal top secret info? Sell dirt about people online for profit?"

"Huh?"

"Hey. Where were you just then? Mars?"

"Yeah, I was on Mars. Can't help myself, y'know?" She smiled at the joke.

"What's next? Do you wanna go somewhere else? Let's act like we're in college again, get drunk at some crappy bar and dance the faux lesbian dance like pros. Max will pick us up. I already made him promise."

"Sounds amazing but I'm just not up for it tonight. Still a bit jetlagged, I think. Let's go see a bad movie—we can sit in the back and make fun of it."

"There's a new Vin Diesel flick playing… It looks horrific."

A spark of excitement flew between them. "Let's go."

* * * * *

The movie was, as they'd predicted horrible. It provided the friends with 93 unadulterated minutes of suck and plenty of opportunities for snark. They laughed all the way back to Java the Hut to pick up Veronica's car.

"Not to get all sappy or anything, but this was really fun. Let's not wait three years again, okay, Veronica? I mean, I love Max and all, but he drives me crazy most of the time. I need some adventure and intrigue to keep me sane."

"It's a deal."

"Speaking of… There's this New Year's Eve party at the Neptune Grand… Max and I are gonna go. I don't know what your plans are. It'll probably be horrible but Max really wants to go for some reason. We can go make fun of people or something. Besides, it'd be great for the four of us to hang out; Max and Gabriel would have a great time together."

"Gabriel won't be here. He's…away. And I don't know Mac. I mean, I'm all for making fun of the sadsacks who hated me in high school but… I was just planning on watching The Maltese Falcon with my dad and then pondering whether it's sad or progressive that Dick Clark isn't dropping the ball this year."

"Well, it's an option. Think about it, okay? You don't need Gabriel to have a good time!"

Veronica's smile was wan. "I'll think about it. It was good to see you, Mac, really see you, not just hear your voice." There was a brief, awkward across-the-seat hug, and they parted ways, Veronica contemplating everything that could go awry if she went to the Grand, and the demons she'd have to face.

When she got home, Keith was sleeping on the couch; Backup nestled right up next to him. The sound of the key in the lock startled him. "Early night, huh?"

"Later than you, old man. Were you up waiting for me?" she asked, walking over to the couch.

"Old habits," he mumbled as he sat up to hug her. Backup jumped off the couch and Veronica tucked herself beside her father.

"I miss you." Her eyes were actually beginning to get glossy.

A bit taken aback by her sudden admittance, Keith looked at his daughter, "What's that about, Veronica? Why the waterworks?" He didn't ask what he wanted to ask, Why are you here alone?

"No waterworks," she sniffed. "I'm just glad to be home for a bit. That's all." She looked at him and he looked at her. "I'm just glad to be home."

* * * * *

Christmas Eve found Veronica and Keith holed up together, decorating, watching Christmas movies, laughing, and enjoying the fact that they were together. Veronica called Wallace, pleased to find out he would be in town on New Year's Eve, and of course, heading to the party at the Grand. Looks like Veronica would head there as well, despite her better sensibilities.

Christmas morning, Veronica woke up early feeling sick. It was to be expected, she figured, she just hadn't been looking forward to it; and on Christmas Day nonetheless. Great. She went to the bathroom and back to bed again, lying in her old room thinking of all the Christmas mornings before this one, and how each one had led her here. The Christmas mornings when her mom was still around, the Christmas morning she'd gone to brunch at the Kanes', when Lily was alive and life was somehow…perfect. The Christmas mornings she'd spent with her dad in the years they'd been the closest of allies. She closed her eyes, willing herself not to be sick again, not to have to explain to her father why she was sick, but it was no use. She ran to the toilet again, almost not making it in time. It was obvious she wouldn't be going back to sleep this morning, so she got out of bed and grabbed a can of Coke to settle her stomach. She wanted to make her father breakfast, but she didn't think she could handle the smell of cooking bacon right now. Instead, she drank her Coke and planned what she was going to say to Keith when he asked her the question she knew was on his mind, when he asked her about Gabriel and why she was home.

She finished her drink and felt a bit better, so she took Backup out for a walk. The cool air and movement made her feel better, and by the time she got back, Keith was up, making his own breakfast. "Pancakes!" He declared, turning to her. "You feeling okay? I heard you get up a couple times this morning…"

"Just something I ate, I think, made me a little sick." She avoided his eyes, knowing he wouldn't accept her explanation.

It was time, they both knew it. They spoke at the same moment, "Dad, I've got something…"

"Veronica why hasn't…?" Keith stopped. "You go."

She shook her head. She couldn't just say it. He had to ask her, to help her get started. He knew this and so he asked her, "Why didn't Gabriel come with you? Why haven't you two talked once since you got here? What's going on?"

She couldn't do it. She couldn't. But her mouth didn't know that, didn't get the memo, and so she said, "He left me." Tears formed in her eyes and she said it again, this time to convince herself, "He left me." Keith closed the distance between them in four steps and hugged his daughter to his green "Kiss the Cook" apron. He rested his chin on her head and held her while she cried.

* * * * *

Things haven't been right for a while, she told him, not bad, just not right. He worked too much, and Veronica, well, she'd always worked too much—committed more to her job than she'd ever managed to be to an actual person. They didn't make time for each other like they promised they would before they got married. In retrospect, she told him, they should probably have never tied the knot—they were too much alike and too in love with their careers. One day Gabriel came home smelling like his secretary's perfume and she'd just asked him, point blank, if he'd had an affair. It wasn't like Veronica to just ask but she didn't have the need to catch him, to make him pay—it was the moment she realized that maybe, just maybe, she had grown up. And they'd outgrown each other. And that was simply the end of it. He moved out two days later and she'd bought a plane ticket home. She realized she was pregnant the following week.

"So I'm gonna be a grandpa?"

"You're gonna be a grandpa." And I'm gonna be a single mother.

"An extremely good looking and youthful grandpa! That explains so much…" He smiled and then noticed her discomfort. "This'll work out, Veronica. Everything will be fine."

She wanted to believe him so she let herself. "Merry Christmas, Dad."

"Merry Christmas, Veronica."

* * * * *

When she told Mac she'd be at the Grand on New Year's Eve, Mac was excited. The thought of a partner in crime was thrilling, and Mac's enthusiasm actually worked to bolster Veronica's own. Mac wasn't like Lily—they didn't spend hours shopping for the perfect outfit; they didn't plan their hair in advance. But getting ready for the big day was fun nonetheless, and by the time December 31st rolled around, Veronica was convinced this debacle might actually be…fun. Of course, she still hadn't been able to tell Mac why she was really in town, alone, during the holidays and that, well, she wasn't going to be drinking this New Year. It just never seemed to be the right time. Veronica also didn't tell Mac the real reason she'd decided to go. Sure, seeing Wallace would be great, but he lived in New York too; he'd gotten Gabriel his first job, he came over to dinner every other Thursday. He was not a stranger. Veronica had decided to go because she thought Logan might show up, the demon among all demons waiting to be confronted. If he wsa in town, he would at least stop by. She was unable to reisist the excitement she felt at this had barely admitted this little tidbit to herself.

She met Mac and Max in the parking lot and they walked in together. She waited while they checked in, marveling at the way the loved each other. They had symmetry, cohesion, and a right-ness about them. They made sense. They were comfortable, confident, and familiar. Veronica had never had that with Gabriel; she had opened and closed that book long before him, putting it away on a shelf. But, tonight, perhaps she would dust it off… No. She couldn't think that way. Logan might not even be there.

The party kicked off at eight with dinner and drinks and by tenMax was drunkenly gyrating between Mac and Veronica, convinced he was the best dancer since Gene Kelly. Wallace and his girlfriend were dancing nearby, far enough away not be associated with them by any onlookers. Everyone was smiling, laughing, and drunk. Veronica had banked on this—everyone being so inebriated that they'd never notice she wasn't. Maybe things would be okay, like her dad had said. They seemed pretty great right now, at least. And no Logan in sight.

After a truly original rendering of "Low" from Max and his Mighty Masters of Modern Dance (yes, he'd named them), Veronica excused herself, needing to use the bathroom and get some air. She maneuvered her way through the throngs of partiers, hating having to touch sweaty drunkards and them having to touch her. When she was nearly at the door and near sweet freedom, she felt someone behind her. "Fancy meeting you here," a voice said. She knew immediately who it was, and his hot breath on her ear made her shiver. And so it begins, she thought.

He followed her out into the lobby where he pulled her into a hug. "Sss great ta see you, 'Ronica." He stumbled a bit once he let go of her.

"'Fancy meeting you here?' Come on, Logan. That's your line?" She smiled, glad to realize she could still snark with him. God, it felt good. "I expected so much better from you."

"Hey, whaddya want? I'm a little bit… intoxicated at the moment. Speaking of which… Stay here!" He darted off and she, foolishly or wisely, stayed put. Logan returned with two glasses of wine. "One to forget," he proclaimed, "one to remember." He offered one to Veronica and they toasted. He downed his drink in two swift gulps and noticed Veronica had not followed suit.

She read the question in his eyes. "Designated driver," she answered.

He seemed satisfied and liberated her share. "You look…amazing. Beautiful, Veronica. New York's treated you well." The sincerity in his eyes sent a pain through her chest, and she felt herself reaching for a book she'd put away long ago… One to forget, one to remember. She liked that.

"Likewise, Logan. You look…Really good." It was not what she'd wanted to say. She wanted to tell him she'd never seen anyone as beautiful as him, that he was still perfect, that she still felt that thing only he could make her feel. Instead, she kept quiet and willed him to say…

"Let's catch up sometime. When I'm sober and you're more… casual." His gesture indicated her dress.

"I'd like that, actually." She paused; both of them had more to say. "What are you doing here, anyway? This doesn't seem like your kind of soiree."

"I'm renting a room upstairs for the night, wanted to just let the night pass me by in a drunken stupor, but I couldn't resist peeking in. Just to… see who I could see. And grab a couple free drinks. I'm heading up there, now, actually."

"Mind if I help you, y'know, wait out the storm? They'll barely even notice I'm gone," she said, nodding in the direction of the party. "Get a head start on that catching up? I'm not in the mood for all that pomp and circumstance anyway." She locked her arm through his and moved toward the elevator. She knew what would happen once they were alone. She knew it and, she admitted, she wanted it. Needed it.

"I don't know if now's such a…" He was slightly drunk. He knew she was married. He knew if she was back in Neptune something was going on. But resistance was futile when it came to Veronica; he set down their glasses and they moved together toward the elevator.

They barely spoke as they waited for the door to open but Logan sensed something was happening, something big. "So what's new on Mars?" he asked. "Married? Kids? Job?"

"Yes, no, yes." She didn't want to get into it. "You?" She was looking at him as if everything depended on this answer.

"No, not that I know of, and yes." He didn't know if he'd said the right thing or not but…Bing! The elevator arrived and the doors slid open. "After you," he gestured her forward and stepped in. As soon as the doors shut, Veronica attacked him, pushing him against the wall with her hands, hips, and lips. He'd forgotten how tiny she was and how perfectly they fit together. She kissed him furiously, her hands were everywhere. Suddenly, though, the doors binged open again. No one had pushed the button to indicate the floor. The spell was broken, Veronica backed away from him, wiping her mouth delicately and muttering, "Oh my God…" The doors opened but no one got on.

Veronica stood stock still and worked to steady her voice. "I'm sorry, Logan. I don't know what happened. I just… I'm sorry." The doors slid closed again. Logan deliberately reached out, pushed the button (of course his room was on the top floor), and put his arm down, breathing heavily. This time, he attacked her, one arm under her tiny ass, lifting her up, and the other behind her head, mashing her face, her body, to his own. Any space between them was unacceptable. The elevator started to rise. So did their body heat.

Soon they were groping each other like a couple of horny teenagers, furiously rubbing any part of the other they could reach. Veronica managed to move her tiny hands in between them and yank Logan's shirt out from his waistband, eager to feel the coarse hair she knew would be there over his muscles. He was still a fine specimen of man; that had not changed. Maybe nothing had changed except Veronica.

She splayed her hands across his stomach a moaned, not realizing until that moment how much she'd missed him, missed this. She felt his hardness pressing into her and felt the need to hold it in her hands, to know that this moment was real. As she fumbled with his belt buckle she felt the elevator lurch to a stop and Logan back away. "What are we doing, Veronica?" There was an unexplained sadness in his words. As the door opened they worked to right their clothes and hair again. Veronica picked up her purse, forgotten in the… exchange, and took a deep breath, walking swiftly out of the elevator and toward the room she assumed was Logan's, the best suite in the Neptune Grand. She did not look back, did not watch him amble toward the door to meet her. Did not want to see what was in his eyes.

He reached her, slid the card in the slot, and opened the door. He was careful not to touch her, lest they fall under the spell again. She walked in cautiously and sat down on the couch. He sat on the opposite end. "Can I get you something? Water? Wine? Cold shower?" He saw the stupid cardboard hat the cleaning staff and left him, "Party hat?"

"How about your traditional horrible pop stars/ball drop combo?" She smiled at him, grabbed the hat from his hand, "Noise maker?"

"Sorry, can't help you there." He smiled and turned on the TV, let the normalcy of it calm them. "What was that back there? Not that I minded or anything but…" He paused. "What's going on with you, Veronica?"

"I was just… shocked to see you, is all. I'm sorry." She grabbed his hand, running her fingers lightly along a vein. She looked into his eyes. "I don't know what came over me." She smiled.

"Yes you do. Veronica, I know you too well, you can't bullshit me. Something's going on."

She avoided the subject. "What did you mean before, by that toast? 'One to forget one to remember?' I like that."

"I dunno, I just figured, between us, there is plenty that needs to be forgotten, but a lot that's worth remembering, y'know? Life's like that too. I don't know, the onset of a new year always makes me… philosophical." Yes, Veronica thought. I've got plenty forget… and tons to remember. He squeezed her hand. "Don't change the subject, wily one. What's going on with you? Where's your husband?"

Instead of answering, she looked directly into his eyes and brought his hand up to her lips. She kissed the back of it softly, then turned it over and kissed the pulse point on his wrist. She stood up, still holding his hand, and walked him to the bedroom. She didn't want to talk about it.

* * * * *

At first, it was slow and tender, like being welcomed home. They undressed each other with care, leaving small kisses where clothes had just been. He lay Veronica down on the bed and worshipped her body with kisses: her forehead, nose, neck, collar bone, and chest. His destination was clear, but his path was slow. He reached her stomach, stopping to sprinkle little kisses all over it, but Veronica recoiled. "Why did you do that?"

"Do what, V?"

"Kiss my stomach. Why did you do that? Just don't, okay. I'm… It's just sensitive right now."

"Bad shellfish? If memory serves, you used to love that." He joked, but the mood was changed. Veronica had had enough worship. She sat up and removed the last of their clothing like she was in a race. "Oh, someone's in a hurry, huh?" Logan was trying to lighten the mood, but Veronica was on a mission. She lay on top of him, grabbed his face, and kissed him. Hard. She ran her fingers over his broad chest, biting each of his nipples. Finally, she mounted him and he was inside her. They were both still for several seconds, relishing the feeling of being together, like this, again. Logan reached up, thumbing her nipples, and she began to move, to ride him. She closed her eyes, willing herself to forget all the times she'd done this before with someone that was not Logan, willing herself to forget the others who hadn't mattered. Forgetting how stupid she'd been to ever give him up.

She came quickly and hard, barely aware of what Logan was doing, not even sure if he'd finished himself. She collapsed onto his chest and eased herself to lie down beside Logan. "Veronica I've never seen you so…" He didn't have the words. He was still breathing hard, looking at the ceiling. As he cradled her to his side and looked at her, she whispered, "He left me. He cheated on me and left me."

Logan was quiet. He was elated but deeply saddened. "Shit, Veronica," was all he could manage.

"I never should have married him. I just… wanted to convince myself that I could be happy again. I was so stupid."

"No, Veronica. You outght to be happy." He kissed her, softly and for a long time. He kissed the wet trails on her face where tears had crept on their way out. "You deserve to be happy." He tucked a bit of hair behind her ear, cradled her face. "We both do."

She was quietly crying, "It's not just that, Logan." She scooted up, folded her arms across his chest and rested her head on them, "I'm pregnant. I found out a week after he took his stuff. I'm having my cheating ex-husband's baby. That's why before, when you were kissing my stomach… I freaked out. I thought you, like, knew or something."

He chuckled, "So that explains the glow."

"Shut up." She kissed him. It felt good to have it all out there. Telling him. She climbed on him fully, aligning her naked body with his. "Y'know what you said before? 'One to forget one to remember'? I think that should be applicable here. We just had one to forget," she wiggled her lower body slightly, just enough to brush Logan in all the right places. He sucked in a breath. She continued, "Now we need one to remember."

This time it was slow and remember they did.

* * * * *

Logan rolled off of Veronica, slipping out of her after what seemed like hours. There was a slight sheen of sweat on both of them, and they lay next to each other, sated. Sated by the sex, the intimacy, and the synergy they shared. Veronica glanced at the clock: 11:58. "I'll be right back," she said, bouncing from the bed. She ran to the living room of the suite, grabbed her phone from her purse, and sent Mac a text, "Went home early. Not feeling well. Happy New Year!" She'd tell Mac the truth, the whole truth, when they had coffee. She'd promised this to herself.

She ran back to the bed to find Logan staring at the clock intently. "Hurry up!" He said, pulling back the sheets so she could climb in beside him. Just as she settled in, chest against his back, arm around his waist, the clock changed over to midnight. She kissed his shoulder. "Happy new year, Logan."

He rolled onto his back, careful to let Veronica adjust to this shift. He sat up slightly, leaned down, and brushed his lips lightly but deliberately on her stomach. "Happy new year, Veronica." And for once, she believed it would be.