Title: Natural Born Killer
Author:
glasheen25Fandom: Veronica Mars
Characters/Pairings: Veronica/Logan, Mac, Keith
Word Count: 4276
Rating: NC-17 for language, violence and sex
Spoilers: none
Summary: Estranged from Logan, Veronica is working a particularly violent series of murders for the FBI. Post-series three.
Their desks scattered with crumpled food wrappers and abandoned cups of coffee, Veronica and Burke sat hunched uncomfortably over the bloodied series of photographs laid out carefully in front them. The sunlight that had been streaming in unrelentingly through the window was now fading rapidly, reminding Veronica that she desperately needed to go home and grab a few hours sleep. She was exhausted and other than the one time Veronica had made the short journey across the street to purchase some much-needed sandwiches and chips, the pair hadn’t taken a break all day. It was frustrating, grueling work but it would be worth it, if they finally caught a break in the case.
Reaching for the Philips’ file, Veronica sifted through the photographs of the crime scene, until she reached one particularly horrific image. Amy Philips was lying sprawled in a bloody mess on the once-white linen, her eyes staring lifelessly at the red splattered ceiling.
“Burke, take a look at this,”
Smothering a yawn in the back of his hand, Burke took the photograph in his hands before gazing quizzically at Veronica. In the past few days, the FBI agent had examined every photograph from the sorority house in minute detail and was more familiar with the horrendous acts of violence that transpired in that bedroom than anybody.
“Now take a look at this,” Veronica instructed him, sliding a photograph of a much older crime scene across the table.
It was another blood splattered bedroom, with another twin set of murder victims, their catalogue of injuries unsettlingly similar.
“No fucking way,” Burke murmured almost to himself as the implication of what the photograph meant started to sink in. “That’s one of Bundy’s crime scenes, isn’t it?”
“It is,” Veronica stated grimly, settling back in her chair. “In Tallahassee, Florida, 1978, two students were bludgeoned to death in their sorority house and get this, Bundy used a hammer,”
“Just like that sick fuck who murdered Amy Philips and Karen Jones,” Burke commented with a knowing shake of his head.
“Exactly,” Veronica replied, shuffling distractedly through the files that were heaped untidily on her desk. “I was reading this crappy true crime magazine when I saw the article about Bundy and it got me thinking,”
Burke couldn’t resist a smirk spreading across his face. “You read true crime magazines,”
“Don’t judge me,” Veronica sighed jokingly, glaring at Burke through carefully narrowed eyes. “But anyway, I’ve reviewed a bunch of old case files and here’s the thing, it seems there’s more than a couple of connections between this recent spate of murders and some of the most infamous murder cases in history. For example, this,” she continued, reaching for a heavily packed file and pushing it under Burke’s nose. “During the summer of sixty-nine, Zodiac attacked a young couple up in Vallejo and the details of the murder scene are scarily reminiscent of what happened to those poor high school kids found yesterday,”
Plucking a yellowed newspaper clipping from the heaving file, Burke’s eyes skimmed curiously through the lengthy article.
“They were stabbed repeatedly with a hunting knife,” he murmured thoughtfully, his gaze lingering for a second on the picture of the once beautiful victim accompanying the article.
“And they were attacked on a stretch of isolated parkland,” Veronica filled in for him, excitement coloring her voice as she directed Burke’s attention to some horrific photographs of the murder scene. “The male vicim was apparently incredibly lucky to have survived the attack,”
“And Helen Bloomberg?” Burke interjected curiously, reaching for one of the crime scene photographs strewn in Veronica’s desk and gazing at it absently. “Have you got that figured out too?”
“Helen Bloomberg worked as a prostitute, right?”
“Right,” Burke replied uncertainly, the expression on his face vaguely confused.
“And she was gutted with a knife,”
“Where’s this going, Veronica?” Burke demanded impatiently, turning around in his seat to gaze frankly at his partner.
“Look, maybe I’m reaching here a little bit,” Veronica began, pushing a strand of escaped blonde hair behind her ear. “But Jack the Ripper murdered prostitutes and slashes to the abdomen were a feature of his MO,”
“So what? You think we have a copycat killer on our hands?”
Burke who had initially been so wholly dismissive was starting to slowly warm to the idea. Veronica could see it and though it was just a theory, and the evidence (if she could even call it that) completely inconclusive, it was still the first sense, either of them had, that the case was going anywhere.
“Possibly,” Veronica allowed, shrugging lightly. Past experience had taught Veronica that it was unwise to place too much credence in a single theory. “We’ll present the evidence to Marilyn in the morning and see what she thinks,”
“Fuck, I’m going to be killed,” Burke muttered under his breath as he glanced worriedly at the clock. “Cathy’s invited her parents over for dinner and I’m already almost an hour late.”
As though on cue, Burke’s cell rang prompting a displeased grunt from when he saw his wife’s name highlighted on the screen.
Burke was irritated with Cathy, Veronica could hear it in his voice but sneaking a glance at the clock herself, Veronica could understand the woman’s frustration. The dinner had been arranged for eight and though it was now well past the time, Burke hadn’t made any attempt to leave.
“This isn’t going to be pretty,” he groaned as he slid his cell open and spoke in hushed, placating tones to his wife before hanging up and gazing regretfully at Veronica. “I’ve got to go unless I want to find myself sleeping in the backyard with the dog tonight,
Veronica herself had made vague plans to meet Logan for dinner but no time had been arranged and anyway, by the teasing look on Logan’s face when he had suggested the date, dinner had been the last thing on his mind.
“Yeah, I suppose, I’d better go too. Long day tomorrow and all that. Do you want to meet here early in the morning and go over a few things before we bring this to Marilyn?”
“Yeah, I’ll see you at seven,” Burke grunted, slipping his cell phone into his pocket and heading out the door.
It was a serious effort for Veronica to keep her eyes open as she finally pushed her way wearily through the doors of the FBI building half an hour later. The case was proving to be exhausting and Veronica was already eagerly anticipating an entirely uninterrupted night’s sleep. (Unless the interruption happened to be Logan Echolls waking her up some for some very hot sex.)
“Hot and equipped with a gun. Whoever would have thought that my X-Files fantasies about getting hot with a special agent would actually come true?”
Seeing Logan leaning casually against the door of his beloved sports car, Veronica had to smile.
“Once those fantasies include a sleeping special agent and a bowl of ice cream, we’re good. Otherwise, I’ll have to recommend you break out those X-Files DVDs. I haven’t slept since I saw you last and I’m exhausted,”
Giving Veronica a sly wink, he slid into the driver seat of his car and threw open the door for her. “What would you say, if I told you I was going to run a bath for you, while I cook dinner?”
“I would probably ask you to join me,” Veronica laughed, butterflies fluttering wildly in her stomach as Logan leaned in and brought his lips softly to hers.
“That’s what I hoped you’d say,” Logan murmured softly, Veronica’s eyes closing in response as he kissed her deeply.
The bathroom in Veronica’s apartment was a hideous mixture of coral plastic and cool chipped tiles but that hardly mattered as the pair slipped with flushed faces into the room. Bending over to turn on the tap, Veronica’s breath caught in her throat as she felt Logan’s hand move beneath her shirt, his fingers cool on her skin. Pulling her up to meet him, Logan started to unbutton Veronica’s crisp, white shirt with an impatience that surprised her.
“Someone’s eager,” she commented lightly, her eyes closing in contentment as Logan brushed his lips in answer against her neck.
Logan’s hand was cupping her breast and his tongue edging deep into her mouth and Veronica’s heart thumped excitedly, feeling the outline of his cock pressing against her thigh.
“Fuck, Logan, how do you do this? I was so exhausted after work that I was ready to drop, fully clothed into bed but ten minutes with you and I feel like I never want to sleep again,”
“Believe me, you make me feel the same, babe,” Logan murmured against her ear, before bringing his lips to meet hers. “I want to fuck you now.”
The air was warm and damp and filled with the smell of the rose scented bubble bath. Her lips still pressed against his, Veronica started to fumble desperately with the buttons on Logan’s shirt. Then they were standing bare chested together, Veronica’s nipples, hard and erect pressing against Logan’s skin.
“Take off your skirt,” Logan commanded her, his tongue, wet and moist working it’s way slowly across her small, pert breasts.
Eagerly kicking off her black pencil skirt, Veronica quickly unbuttoned Logan’s pants and pulled them down until she was faced with his cock, pushing itself erect and ready through the dark boxer shorts.
“I want to feel you inside of me now,” Veronica pleaded desperately, groaning in anticipation as Logan slipped a hand beneath the cool silk of her panties.
Pulling her into his arms, Logan tilted Veronica’s chin up, so his brown eyes were gazing deeply into her blue ones. “I love you, Veronica,” he murmured longingly, though it was hard to take him seriously with his penis digging into her skin. “I’m so grateful that you’ve given us a second chance and I swear that I won’t fuck it up this time,”
“You better not,” Veronica teased him lightly, kissing him softly, before reaching down and pulling off his boxer shorts. “Now me,” she murmured, grinning as Logan inched a hand inside of her panties and dragged them teasingly down.
Bubbles lay heaped temptingly on top of the steaming water and Veronica smiled happily as Logan stepped into the bath, before taking her hand and pulling her down on top of his lap.
“You’re so gorgeous,” Logan murmured softly, bringing his lips to meet hers, while his fingers strayed down to her soft folds of flesh between her legs. Pushing his fingers inside of her, Veronica squeezed her eyes shut in contentment as he moved them up and down in a rhythmic motion.
“That feels so good,” Veronica groaned, the feeling of his fingers slick inside of her, combined with the pressure of his cock against her clitoris making her almost come immediately.
Her legs splayed over his thighs, Veronica angled herself over Logan’s cock before gently pushing herself down on top of it.
“Fuck, that’s good,” Logan moaned, groaning in satisfaction as Veronica moved in slow, long strides along the length of his penis, her hand cupping his balls. His cock was so deep inside of her but moving her leg aside and adjusting the angle, Veronica found she could take him even deeper still.
Pressing her lips to Logan’s, Veronica reveled in the feeling of his hands creeping over her skin and then to her pussy, the finger he flicked against her clitoris making her scream.
“I’m going to come,” she murmured against his ear and then she collapsed against him shaking, the look of utter ecstasy on Veronica’s face making Logan orgasm simultaneously.
Afterwards lying sprawled on the cool sheets in her room, Veronica and Logan lay in each other’s arms kissing softly. The room was still and dark and through the open curtains, Veronica could see the stars twinkling brightly in the vast expanse of black.
“Things are different this time, Veronica,” Logan murmured softly, his voice breaking the silence.
Things were different, Veronica knew but by the time she found the words to formulate a response, Logan had already fallen fast asleep.
--
“You are such a sweetheart to take me to breakfast,” Veronica smiled happily as she took a grateful sip from her first coffee of the day.
The diner was pleasantly busy, sleepy-eyed people clamoring around the counter, desperate to buy their morning coffee. Waitresses carrying trays of steaming food, skillfully dodged the pair of blonde-haired children running wild amongst the tables and the air was fragrant with the smell of gently roasting coffee.
“Well, it’s not like I had a lot of choice, Veronica,” Logan shot back with a teasing grin as he speared a piece of bacon on Veronica’s face and popped into his mouth. “Your kitchen didn’t offer a whole lot of culinary options besides chips and some kind of unidentifiable meat,”
“Yeah, I think that was chicken?” Veronica offered helpfully before swatting Logan playfully on the arm as he plucked the last piece of toast off her plate. “Logan,” she exclaimed, her attempts at reclaiming back her piece of toast completely in vain as he dangled it like a prize high above her head.
“Well, if my girlfriend was actually doing her job and feeding her man, he might not need to be stealing food off her plate,” Logan retorted playfully, his hand creeping over to rest on Veronica’s thigh.
“I think what you’re talking about is a maid, Logan, you know, someone you pay to cook and clean for you,” Veronica joked, spooning some scrambled egg off Logan’s plate in retaliation. “Maybe you ought to get me one of those and then you won’t ever have to complain about the fridge being empty again,”
“How about I just pay you in the currency of love,” Logan suggested with a sly smile, reaching over and kissing her softly on the lips. “A cooked dinner equals three kisses. Vacuuming might even earn you a hug,”
“And if I cleaned the bathroom?” Veronica interjected playfully, a smile threatening to break across her face.
“Well, then I would just have to pick you up in my arms, throw you on the bed and fuck your brains out,”
“God, you’re such a romantic, Logan,” Veronica enthused before Logan slung an arm around her shoulder and pulled her close for a kiss.
“You don’t even know,” he whispered softly, his fingers soft on her cheek as their lips moved slowly together.
“Veronica, is that you?”
Hearing the familiar voice, Veronica pulled out of Logan’s grasp and looked sheepishly up to see Alicia Fennel staring at her.
“Hello, Alicia,” Veronica mumbled red-faced, inwardly praying that her father wasn’t lurking somewhere in the vicinity. That was one conversation she could definitely do without right now.
“You’re father is ordering us breakfast, so he’ll be down in a minute. He has some business in the city today and I decided to join him and do some shopping,” she informed Veronica with a smile before directing her attention towards Logan. “How are you, Logan? We haven’t seen you in a while,”
Alicia took a seat beside Veronica and busied herself with the cutlery and napkins and the whole scene was so horrendously uncomfortable that Veronica wanted to make an immediate dash for the front door. Logan was evidently just as nervous at the prospect of meeting Keith Mars as he drank his long-gone-cold mug of coffee in one swift gulp.
The smile that had been on Keith’s face vanished the second he saw Logan Echolls sitting beside his daughter.
“Logan,” he greeted him with a stiff nod before flashing a smile at his daughter. “How are things holding up with you, Honey?”
“Great, Dad,” Veronica smiled, her mind already turning over a million different reasons as to why she and Logan had to immediately leave. “But we actually were just about to go. The FBI aren’t paying me the big bucks to sit around drinking coffee, you know and Logan has to go to work,”
“Whatever you say, Veronica,” her father sighed, spreading a thin layer of butter onto his bagel as Veronica slung her purse onto her shoulder. “I’m cooking my secret recipe lasagne tonight if you want to call over. It feels like ages since we had a proper chat,”
“Sounds good, Dad,” Veronica smiled, leaning over to kiss her father on the cheek. “I’ll call you later, okay?”
Outside, the sky was so blue, that Veronica was temporarily blinded as she followed Logan out of the diner. Slipping her sunglasses onto her face, Veronica slipped her hand supportively into Logan’s.
“Your dad’s not my number one fan, at the moment,” Logan murmured ruefully as he slid his car key into the lock.
“He’ll get over it,” Veronica shrugged, though she did flash a small smile of support at her boyfriend.“Look, Logan, I’ve got to go. Duty calls. I might see you later, okay?”
“Might see me later,” Logan complained, pulling her against his chest and bringing her lips to meet hers. “How about you will definitely see me later. I might even have a surprise for you,”
“Well, if you put it like that,” Veronica smiled, about to melt into Logan’s arms for one last kiss when the abrupt ring of her cellphone startled her. “Shit, it’s Burke. I have to take this,” she mumbled apologetically, sliding her cell phone open.
“Burke, what’s up?” she greeted her partner, before pressing a hasty kiss to Logan’s cheek
and racing to her car.
--
Her hair carefully arranged in a neat chignon and a steaming cup of coffee clutched in her hand, Veronica pushed her way purposefully into the cramped interview room. Stepping into her grey trouser suit that morning, Veronica had inexplicably changed from the love struck girl who had spent the latter part of the night making love to her boyfriend to Special Agent Mars, the hard nosed FBI agent who would stop at nothing to bring the so-called Teen Slasher Killer to justice.
“Hello, Mrs. Anderson, I’m Agent Mars,” Veronica greeted the woman warmly, extending a hand to her in welcome. “I believe you have some information for us regarding the murder of Ms. Bloomberg,”
“Call me Laurie, please” she smiled, her hands twisting uncomfortably on her lap. “I was so sad to hear about the death of that poor woman. The things that go on in on our world today, you know, it makes you wonder,”
“It certainly does,” Veronica agreed grimly, though she pressed on, determined not to let the woman ramble too much. It would be hard facts and evidence that would inevitably bring the sonofabitch in and those were the only things Veronica was interested in. “Mrs. Anderson, Laurie,” Veronica quickly corrected herself before taking a seat across from the older woman. “What can you tell me about the night Helen Bloomberg disappeared?”
“I was out visiting a friend, up off French Church Street, when I passed Ms. Bloomberg walking with a man. I never forget a face, you know?” the woman commented to Veronica, folding her arms staunchly in front of her chest.
“And you’re sure it was this woman you saw?” Veronica reiterated, sliding the photograph of the victim across the table to Mrs. Anderson. The prospect of having a potential witness was exciting but Veronica had to be definite that Laurie Anderson had seen Helen Bloomberg and not just another blonde who was enjoying a Sunday night stroll through the neighborhood. “Have a good look at the photograph now and be satisfied that it was definitely Ms. Bloomberg you saw.”
Pushing her glasses up onto the bridge of her nose, the older woman picked up the photograph delicately with her fingers and again scrutinized the image. “No, it’s definitely her. I have a very good head for faces. My friends comment on it all the time. I see a face once and I never forget it. It’s not something everyone can claim to be able to do, you know?”
The woman was starting to stray off the point again and Veronica cleared her throat, needing her to stay focused and alert.
“You say there was a man with Ms. Bloomberg,” Veronica commented, leaning back in her seat and gazing at her frankly. “Do you think you could provide me with a description of his appearance?”
“Of course,” Mrs Anderson exclaimed, smoothing a hand over her immaculate hair. “Like I already said, I’m excellent with faces. In fact, if I had my time over, I would have loved to have been working with the FBI, just like you,”
Veronica resisted the urge to roll her eyes at that and instead smiled and urged the woman on.
“What did this man look like, Mrs. Anderson and please try to be as detailed as possible,”
“Of course, Agent Mars,” the lady beamed, settling back in her chair with a pensive expression on her face. “The man I saw was white. About thirtyish, I would say. He had boyish good looks, lovely blue eyes. In fact, he reminded me a lot of my son. That’s what caused me to pay attention to them in the first place,”
“And his hair color?” Veronica demanded sedately but inwardly her entire being was tingling with excitement. They had been waiting for days now for a break and this could be it.
“He had short dark hair and was very well dressed. To be honest, I was surprised to think he could be mixed up in all this. Didn’t seem the sort, you know?”
They never do, Veronica sighed inwardly.
“Thank you do much for your time, Mrs. Anderson. You’ve been more than helpful. Another federal agent is going to join you in a minute, to compile a facial composite of the man you saw. That’s just a sketch of the man based on your description,” Veronica quickly explained, seeing the confusion flash across the woman’s face.
Gracefully standing up, Veronica was about to open the door, when the sound of Laurie Anderson’s voice stopped her in her tracks.
“Sorry to delay you, Agent Mars but I’ve just thought of something else that might be helpful,”
Turning around, Veronica gazed at the older curiously, eager to hear what she had to say.
“You know, there’s a man living three doors down from me. His name is John Davis. He’s a bit of a recluse, God love him,” she added as an aside, pausing to take a drink from her water. “The poor man was a victim of a break-in a few years ago and has been extremely security conscious ever since. He even installed one of those camera things,”
“You mean CCTV?” Veronica interjected, her mind already running over the possibilities of what this information could potentially mean to the case.
“Yes, that’s the thing. You know, it’s difficult keeping up with all the technology these days. There’s always something new. My son is trying to make me use a cell phone but I tell him that I’m quite happy with what I have. These newfangled inventions only cause confusion, if you know what I mean,”
“Yes, Mrs. Anderson, I know exactly what you mean,” Veronica murmured appeasingly, though inwardly she was praying that Burke would burst into the room with news of some break in the case and she could escape. The way Laurie Anderson was acting, Veronica was certain that the woman would break out the family photographs soon and she’d be subjected to an evening of the Anderson family history.
“Mrs. Anderson, I don’t mean to be rude but I am actually due at a meeting right about now,” Veronica cut in abruptly, the second she saw the woman reach ominously into her handbag. “Agent Grace will be in a minute to begin the facial composite,”
Pulling the door gratefully shut behind her, Veronica’s eyes were alight the second she saw Burke stroll casually along the corridor, a steaming coffee in his hand. “Hey, Burke, you were meant to be in interviewing that witness with me this morning. What gives? Too busy ordering coffee or something?”
“Sorry, Mars but that woman looks too much like my mother-in-law for comfort,” he shrugged with a careless grin, shouldering the door of the office open. “I just spent all of last night with the woman and I needed a break,” Burke offered helplessly, trying to appease Veronica by handing her his coffee.
“You’re an asshole, Burke,” Veronica shot back accusingly, though she accepted the cup of coffee all the same. “And as it happens, you missed out big time because Laurie Anderson just provided me with some sweet information and a description of our guy. She’s in with Agent Grace right now, helping him with the facial composite,”
“You’re not fucking serious?” Burke demanded, spluttering with indignation that he had allowed himself miss such a scoop.
“I wouldn’t lie,” Veronica beamed with acid brightness, draining the end of her coffee, and placing the cup on her desk. “Now come on. Marilyn is waiting to speak to us, unless you plan in blowing her off too,”
“Sheesh, Veronica, do you think I have a death wish or something?” Burke mumbled under his breath, before grabbing his briefcase and following her out of the door.
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