Work Header

Getting It Just Right

Work Text:

“Tell me again what we’re doing here?”

Veronica closed her eyes and counted briefly to ten as she listened to her badass fighter pilot boyfriend whine like a child on a family car trip. When she was sure she wouldn’t slug him she turned to Logan.

She took in his exaggerated pout and reminded herself that biting his lip right now would probably send a mixed message or two.

“Because the three times we went over this on the way weren’t enough?”

There. Brisk but not overly harsh, and certainly not swayed at all by lust. She was just going to ignore brief gleam in his eyes that said otherwise.

He rested his head on the steering wheel in mock despair, that theatricality that had always been a part of him coming fully to the surface and she really shouldn’t be finding this charming.

“I mean, just tell me why? Just – humor me?”

She tsked in feigned dissapointment. “Aren't I always doing that?" She let her gaze drift lower. " Pretty sure I did that several times this morning, in fact.”

“Ouch. Low blow, Mars.”

“Did that as well.”

The pair of them were grinning like idiots, and if he leaned toward her any more she’d be abandoning this entire outing for an afternoon of humoring him further. Which was why this stupid trip was so important in the first place. She drew back abruptly, and his face fell. He looked again at the plate glass window before them, and then back at her.


“You’re no fun.” He frowned. “And simultaneously far too much fun.”

“For the last time, Mr. ‘Someone else can take care of that’ we are going bed shopping.”

He idly tapped a tattoo on the dashboard, his expression veering dangerously close to sulking territory again. “Okay, but why?”

Veronica sighed. “Because you threw a fit when I suggested you stay home?”

“I threw a fit at the project in general and that didn’t stop you.”

There were times he still amazed her with how steady, and competent and grown up he’d become. This was not one of those times. She did not roll her eyes. Quite.

“Okay, let’s take this slowly. We need a new bed, yes? In fact, you’re the reason we need a new bed.”

He shook his head automatically. “No, nope, you were wearing that red thing, so I’m pretty sure that that particular bit of damage is your fault.”

“Really? I threw me over my own shoulder and- “

“Okay, yes, we need a new bed.”

Good, progress. And sure they’d been parked for twenty minutes without actually having any fun which was probably some sort of record for them, but – hmmm, they totally needed a reward, now that she thought about it. She bit her lip. Nope. Shutting that thought down right now.

“Our goal was to procure said bed today.” Her voice was totally normal there.

“Yup. Following along.” He grinned, and she could swear he’d read her every not so innocent thought, like it was her fault that that shirt fit him the way it did. Stupid henleys.

“So we are going shopping for one.” Clear. Declarative. Not at all strangled.

He shrugged in faux innocence. “See, that’s where you lost me.”

“I swear,” Veronica warned. “If you don’t take this seriously, I’m getting you bunk beds shaped like a fort.”

“I’m sorry, was that supposed to be a deterrent? Cause that sounds awesome.”

He was smirking again, and she decided to remind him of the brutal reality. “For the record? Never having sex with a guy with a bed fort.”

“I like that that’s a hard and fast rule.”

“Hey, a girl has to draw the line somewhere.”

“But explain to me why this isn’t something we could do online?” He spread his hands in an expansive gesture. “Click, click boom, one California king, on the way. We could test the limits of Amazon’s drone deliveries. Scare the neighbors. It’s win-win.”

He really didn’t get it. She looked down, her finger running along the seam of her seat cushion.

“Look. This isn’t just my bed, right? This is ours.”

“Of course it’s ours.”

“Then-” she took a deep breath. “It needs to be perfect. This is - it’s the first big thing that’s really for the two of us. And, I mean, I spent a year on a futon in Columbia before graduating to the world’s tiniest twin. Before that it was the Stanford beds. Have you ever seen a Stanford bed? They’re ridiculous. I had to use a step to get into the stupid thing. I once sprained my ankle climbing out of it.”

“I’ve always admired your grace. The poise you bring to any situation.”

She glared. “Need I mention who broke the bed again?”


She couldn’t look at him. She wanted suddenly to go back to their stupid grade-school sparring, but this was too important.

“I just-” her voice was absurdly small. “I want us to get this right this time.”

She dared a glance up and saw all traces of humor gone, as he looked at her in the way that used to scare her so much in high school. That still scared her when she thought about all the ways they could mess this up.

“We will.” His hand found hers. “We are.”

“And besides,’ she said, briskly. “We can’t test these babies if we look online.”

He snorted at that. “I’m pretty sure we can’t test them in public either. At least not properly. Especially if we haven’t bought them yet.”

Her answering smile was something of a promise. “We’ll just have to use our imaginations then.”