Theory Of Convergence: Veronica Mars: V/L
Breathless Veronica pushes the button, hears the far off dong of the bell, and waits for what feels like an eternity. Rocking on her toes she studies the familiar door, noticing all sorts of little nicks in the wood which makes her consider just how huge it is all of a sudden and in that second she becomes overly aware of where she is and why she’s here and her anxiety ramps up about ten notches, tightening her chest until that damn door looks enormous; heavier and much more ominous than the last time she was here.
So she takes a step back but then the fidgeting happens and she seriously considers leaving, wondering if anyone is even home but remembers that Logan’s car is parked just behind her and there’s more waiting and she’s reminded of how much she hates that it always takes like actual minutes for anyone to answer after she rings the bell - what with having to travel over from some other wing or whatever - because right now she just wants to get this over with already and if someone doesn’t hurry she might actually lose the ability to speak or, possibly, consciousness and…
Click.
The door opens, Logan smiles, and Veronica’s already clambering heart does a world-class tumbling routine in her chest. There’s a beat where she swears she swallows loud enough for Logan to hear but is distracted from worrying about that when she notices words forming on Logan’s lips, which she can’t let happen, so she shakes off the haze that always comes when she first sees him and interrupts him before he can speak. “Hi sorry I dropped by without calling but I was afraid if I called I’d talk myself out of coming over here,” she greets, all in one breath, a rush of adrenaline shooting directly to her heart.
“Uh…”
“Wait,” she interrupts, nearly choking on her fear, “Don’t talk, I need to say something.”
Wordlessly Logan throws up his hands.
“It’s stupid not to hang out,” she announces, as though he doesn’t already know that, or that it was him who suddenly put the kibosh on things.
“That’s it?”
“You’re talking!” she snips, half-serious, “And no. That’s not it.”
Opening his mouth, Logan is about to speak again but Veronica stops him with a finger and a look, his hands dart back up but this time there is an adorably large smile to go with his surrender.
“Here’s the thing,” she starts, “we have the same friends. We end up at the same places all the time anyway, so I really don’t see a reason why we can’t go to those same places and do those same things… in the same car.”
Stating the obvious should not make her this anxious. God.
Tapping her foot, Veronica waits for Logan to respond but he’s simply staring back at her, a smug whatever on his face.
“Aren’t you going to say something?” Her voice is tighter, higher than she’d like but it makes him grin just the same.
“I’m allowed?” The little jab makes Veronica smile, slightly, and she’s finally able to exhale a breath.
“There’s a lot more riding on this than just us having… feelings,” she argues against Logan’s imagined response.
“You have feelings?” he teases.
Veronica cocks her head and gives him a look.
“You’re right,” he concedes, “there’s a lot more than feelings.”
“So this is as far as it goes,” she insists.
“Standing at my front door?” he asks, face scrunched in feigned confusion.
“Logan,” she pleads.
Heaving a sigh his face softens as he bites at his lip. “But we can ride in the same car?” he poses, his voice lilting hopeful.
“Uh, yup.”
“Great,” he beams, satisfied, “There’s a party at Dick’s. Wanna come?”
Without a thought to how it appears she nods emphatically, suppressing the urge to jump up and down.
“I’ll pick you up at six,” he offers and how he looks at her, the way he takes her in, says more than pick you up at six. Suddenly she’s breathless again.
“Six,” she repeats before turning on her heel and heading to her car.
Something tells her this won’t last, this new version of their arrangement, but she feels a little better for making an effort to play by the rules. Even if in her heart she’s just riding the wave of relief that comes with knowing she doesn’t have to deal with the end of it - this thing - of losing Logan for two more weeks.
***
While Veronica drives home Meg calls to tell her about Dick’s impromptu get-together tonight and Veronica seizes the opportunity to relieve Meg of her duties as caretaker.
“I was just thinking that you should go with Cole,” Veronica suggests, “You’ve done your job, I’m out of the house, and Logan turns up everywhere we go anyway. Might as well ride with him.”
“Is that cool?” Meg asks, exhaling her relief.
“It’s so cool. Really.”
“I want you to know that I’ve had a blast hanging out with you, but Cole is…”
“You want alone time,” Veronica interrupts with a knowing laugh, “I completely understand. You’ll get no grief from me.”
“No, actually, Cole is just needy. If I spend too much time away he gets all whiney and weird, asking if I still love him, blah, blah, blah.”
“Aww. That’s sweet.”
“Not the word I would use, but okay,” Meg concedes. “Anyway, I’ll only agree to leave you in Logan’s capable hands if you promise you won’t hide out anymore…”
“Promise.”
“… And, should you ever feel the urge to hole up - and Logan is unavailable - you call me… immediately.” She emphasizes the last word sternly, with a very motherly tone.
“Yes ma’am. Roger. Over and out.” Veronica teases, saluting to no one.
Meg giggles. “Good. See you at Dick’s.”
***
Logan and Veronica arrive at Dick’s to a chorus of greetings, everyone acknowledging them with a hug or quick punch to the shoulder as they make their way through the fray, but no one appearing to think twice about them showing up together, most going back to what they were doing as soon as the two of them go by, much like that first night at Ashley’s.
Unlike Ashley’s however, Veronica doesn’t secret herself off to some corner the second she gets there, instead diving right into the middle of the action, making her own rounds through the little clusters of kids, saying hi, smiling, laughing. Her entire evening is spent like that, chatting with all sorts of different people; the usual 09ers of course, but also a few outside her tight little circle and even some who she’s only spoken to a few times in passing.
When they aren’t together - which is only a handful of times - Logan keeps an eye on Veronica, watches her mill around, flashing a smile or giving a nod. Still sometimes she’ll catch him sneaking a look; while talking with the guys or sliding through the crowd, drink clutched above his head as he moves, trying to appear busy but eyeing her the whole time.
As the night fades the group dwindles down to just fifteen or so all gathered in the Casablanca’s enormous kitchen. Veronica is standing in the middle of her friends giving Dick a hard time, everyone sort of chiming in, and she thinks Dick might be getting a little bit pissed but the thought drifts off when she hears Logan call for her from the doorway. She turns to see him leaning against the jamb, smiling and spinning his keys around his finger.
“We need to go. Your dad said eleven, remember?” Mischief lights his eyes.
Smiling Veronica huffs fake exasperation, shoulders drooping, before offering good-byes; hugging everyone, including Dick - who quits being mad when she presses herself against him - and then weaving her way through the group, eyes locked on Logan.
When she gets to the doorway Logan’s arm falls easily around her neck, squeezing her playfully he scolds, "You're going to get me in trouble with your dad, bringing you home late, and then what?”
“You’ll be arrested for impeding the bedtime of a minor,” she jokes loud enough for the gang to hear- if they’re even listening - before Logan uses his grip to lead her out and down the hall to the foyer.
***
“Have her home by midnight,” is what Keith actually said. Veronica’s never had a midnight curfew in her life - not that she’s always minded the one she does have - but something about Logan makes Keith do strange things. Same could be said for her, she supposes. In any case, a condoned increase in her curfew was a gift and sometime during the party she and Logan covertly agreed that being early was a good way to build trust with her father, for both of them.
Getting home a little after eleven means they had silently agreed to other things as well.
Standing in the threshold of the front door with Logan a step down on the porch - leaning as he does, all pliant and at ease - is how they’ve been since Logan brought her home. The added height allows her eyes to be directly aligned with his which is more disconcerting than she’d like to admit, makes it sort of hard to concentrate on what he’s saying; something about surfing or possibly the internet, whatever, his mouth is really cute when he talks and so she watches it a little more, until she thinks she hears him asks if she’s listening. And then again. And yes, he definitely asked this time.
“Huh? Yeah, of course I’m listening,” she assures, stammering over the lie.
“Well it looked like you were staring at my mouth.” The sly grin on his incredibly cute mouth telling her he likes the attention.
Instantly a flush fills her cheeks and she smacks her tongue past her lips, hazy. “Hmm?” she mutters, guilty, unable to think of a coherent retort.
Chuckling, Logan shoves his hands into his pockets and shakes his head at her, his smile so wide it crinkles his eyes. “What is with you?”
“Like you don’t know,” she offers, smiling back, astonished at her candor.
Ever since they walked into Dick’s without incident - as though it is completely normal for the two of them so show up together - she’s felt kind of high, like maybe things will work out; a thought which freaks her out a little and makes her excited too. Add to that Logan’s innate ability to make her feel amazing, funny, perfect, like she’s the only thing that matters and she’s suddenly just really sure; of herself, and of them.
“I do?” Logan almost purrs his reply, stepping in - finally - lips parted.
“Mm-hmm,” Veronica breathes, all confident and predatory refusing to break the gaze they share, she leans in, her hands coming to grip the collar of his windbreaker as she pulls her too him, resting her head on his.
“Confession,” Logan begins, seemingly changing the subject of exactly what it is that’s wrong with her, which she doesn’t mind because she can guess what he was about to say next and not saying it out loud - making it tangible and real - is probably better.
“Yes?” she coaxes, eyes fluttering closed then open while continuing to hold on to him.
“I was this close to driving to your place when you showed up.”
“Really?”
“God yes,” he exhales, beaming while he absently curls his arms around her waist, making her take in a surprised breath. But she steadies herself… somehow.
“What were you going to say?” Swallowing hard she waits anxiously for his answer.
“Word for word?” he teases. Then she pulls back, letting out a quick breath and, feeling serious suddenly, looks gently at him wishing that wish again the one where something magical happens, allowing them to continue this with no fall-out.
“Generally,” she offers with a quick shrug.
And, like always, he reacts to the shift in her mood, getting more serious himself. “Uh, well, something about how I can’t do it,” he begins, “can’t force myself to hang out with Dick and the guys just to avoid hanging out with you when they bore me to tears and I spend all my time wondering where you are and what you’re doing anyway.”
“Oh.” Veronica bites at her lip. He reaches up then, slips a finger through a strand of her hair and tucks it behind her ear.
“I’m not immune to consequences, Veronica, despite what you think. If something happened…” he stops, dipping his head to meet her eyes, “…Duncan would never forgive me and Lilly would make my life hell. So you’re not alone in this.”
Feeling her heart race, she gulps down the intense emotions that snuck up on her and exhales loudly, the shakiness of her breathing very apparent and all of a sudden she can feel her eyes begin to well with tears. “I’m not?” she shudders.
“Never,” he assures, cupping her face in his hand. “I realize how screwed up this all is. I still can’t justify staying away from you. Because whatever my status is with Lilly or whatever you’ve got going with Duncan, it doesn’t change what’s between us.”
“But we can’t…” she breathes the words, eyeing his face for a reaction which is just as she’d hoped; calm, smiling, understanding.
“I know.”
“…we have to set limits,” she finishes, even though she’s sure that he is very aware of that fact.
“So what’s your limit?” Smiling, Logan pulls her closer again, his fingers slipping through her hair, then down her arm, “This?”
Unable to verbalize even a croak, Veronica doesn’t respond, just traces her lips with her tongue, not nodding, not shaking her head, completely afraid to answer either way.
Just a moment passes and Logan let’s go, only to slide his hands to either side of her face, and brush his lips lightly across her forehead. “This?” he asks, moving back to look at her, wait for her response.
Absolutely frozen from a cocktail of fear and lust, she can only stare into his eyes.
“You drive a hard bargain” he says, moving his hands around her waist again and burying his face in the crook of her neck.
“You’re hard to resist.” The words slip out through a tremble and the part of her that wants to take them back loses to the part of her that wants Logan to know.
“Are you sober?” Chuckling against her ear, Logan uses his grip to lift her up and spin her around, setting her down on the porch next to him, not letting go.
“Of course,” she assures through a laugh of her own, peering up at him, her hands gliding up his arms, keeping him close. “Why?”
“You seem… different.”
“Mm-hmm,” she agrees.
“…Like you could do almost anything right now,” he continues.
“Yeah.” She shudders, swallowing hard, her eyes never leaving him.
“But you’re not. Doing anything. And neither am I,” Logan offers, “Nothing we haven’t always done.”
Debate team. That’s where Logan would excel. Since she met him she’s known he can argue his way out of or into anything, if he sets his mind to it. Of course, he’s also quite the diplomat, making people think they’ve won when - at best - they’ve broken even. Veronica is more aware of his talents than probably anyone else, and yet she still finds herself unable to argue. Or not really wanting to. So she shakes her head at the idea that she had any shot at winning this dispute, or possibly at the fact that she even bothered to try to be good, because she never cared to in the first place.
“So, can we agree to knock off this stupid pact and just hang out?”
“Do you think we should?” she asks, knowing before he opens his mouth what his answer will be.
“Yes. Because you and I - we - can manage to keep our hands off each other,” he explains, smiling as he looks down to see that his finger is now linked into Veronica’s belt loop. “Okay, our lips…we can manage to keep our lips off each other. I’m not promising anything else.”
There are no words. Nothing really to say because she knows already that he’s the victor, so she just slips her arms around his waist and holds him tight, allowing herself to take in the warm feeling of his big frame draped around her - arguing with herself, that Logan’s right, it’s always been this way; they’ve always been close, his embrace no different than it ever was, and that letting their fingers linger a little longer or resting her head on his chest like this is no different than when he slings his arm around her shoulders to playfully drag her down the hall at school.
“Is that a ‘yes’?” he asks, his voice muffled against her hair.
“Yes,” she concedes. Instantly wondering just how long it will be until they give in completely.
/end chapter
So she takes a step back but then the fidgeting happens and she seriously considers leaving, wondering if anyone is even home but remembers that Logan’s car is parked just behind her and there’s more waiting and she’s reminded of how much she hates that it always takes like actual minutes for anyone to answer after she rings the bell - what with having to travel over from some other wing or whatever - because right now she just wants to get this over with already and if someone doesn’t hurry she might actually lose the ability to speak or, possibly, consciousness and…
Click.
The door opens, Logan smiles, and Veronica’s already clambering heart does a world-class tumbling routine in her chest. There’s a beat where she swears she swallows loud enough for Logan to hear but is distracted from worrying about that when she notices words forming on Logan’s lips, which she can’t let happen, so she shakes off the haze that always comes when she first sees him and interrupts him before he can speak. “Hi sorry I dropped by without calling but I was afraid if I called I’d talk myself out of coming over here,” she greets, all in one breath, a rush of adrenaline shooting directly to her heart.
“Uh…”
“Wait,” she interrupts, nearly choking on her fear, “Don’t talk, I need to say something.”
Wordlessly Logan throws up his hands.
“It’s stupid not to hang out,” she announces, as though he doesn’t already know that, or that it was him who suddenly put the kibosh on things.
“That’s it?”
“You’re talking!” she snips, half-serious, “And no. That’s not it.”
Opening his mouth, Logan is about to speak again but Veronica stops him with a finger and a look, his hands dart back up but this time there is an adorably large smile to go with his surrender.
“Here’s the thing,” she starts, “we have the same friends. We end up at the same places all the time anyway, so I really don’t see a reason why we can’t go to those same places and do those same things… in the same car.”
Stating the obvious should not make her this anxious. God.
Tapping her foot, Veronica waits for Logan to respond but he’s simply staring back at her, a smug whatever on his face.
“Aren’t you going to say something?” Her voice is tighter, higher than she’d like but it makes him grin just the same.
“I’m allowed?” The little jab makes Veronica smile, slightly, and she’s finally able to exhale a breath.
“There’s a lot more riding on this than just us having… feelings,” she argues against Logan’s imagined response.
“You have feelings?” he teases.
Veronica cocks her head and gives him a look.
“You’re right,” he concedes, “there’s a lot more than feelings.”
“So this is as far as it goes,” she insists.
“Standing at my front door?” he asks, face scrunched in feigned confusion.
“Logan,” she pleads.
Heaving a sigh his face softens as he bites at his lip. “But we can ride in the same car?” he poses, his voice lilting hopeful.
“Uh, yup.”
“Great,” he beams, satisfied, “There’s a party at Dick’s. Wanna come?”
Without a thought to how it appears she nods emphatically, suppressing the urge to jump up and down.
“I’ll pick you up at six,” he offers and how he looks at her, the way he takes her in, says more than pick you up at six. Suddenly she’s breathless again.
“Six,” she repeats before turning on her heel and heading to her car.
Something tells her this won’t last, this new version of their arrangement, but she feels a little better for making an effort to play by the rules. Even if in her heart she’s just riding the wave of relief that comes with knowing she doesn’t have to deal with the end of it - this thing - of losing Logan for two more weeks.
***
While Veronica drives home Meg calls to tell her about Dick’s impromptu get-together tonight and Veronica seizes the opportunity to relieve Meg of her duties as caretaker.
“I was just thinking that you should go with Cole,” Veronica suggests, “You’ve done your job, I’m out of the house, and Logan turns up everywhere we go anyway. Might as well ride with him.”
“Is that cool?” Meg asks, exhaling her relief.
“It’s so cool. Really.”
“I want you to know that I’ve had a blast hanging out with you, but Cole is…”
“You want alone time,” Veronica interrupts with a knowing laugh, “I completely understand. You’ll get no grief from me.”
“No, actually, Cole is just needy. If I spend too much time away he gets all whiney and weird, asking if I still love him, blah, blah, blah.”
“Aww. That’s sweet.”
“Not the word I would use, but okay,” Meg concedes. “Anyway, I’ll only agree to leave you in Logan’s capable hands if you promise you won’t hide out anymore…”
“Promise.”
“… And, should you ever feel the urge to hole up - and Logan is unavailable - you call me… immediately.” She emphasizes the last word sternly, with a very motherly tone.
“Yes ma’am. Roger. Over and out.” Veronica teases, saluting to no one.
Meg giggles. “Good. See you at Dick’s.”
***
Logan and Veronica arrive at Dick’s to a chorus of greetings, everyone acknowledging them with a hug or quick punch to the shoulder as they make their way through the fray, but no one appearing to think twice about them showing up together, most going back to what they were doing as soon as the two of them go by, much like that first night at Ashley’s.
Unlike Ashley’s however, Veronica doesn’t secret herself off to some corner the second she gets there, instead diving right into the middle of the action, making her own rounds through the little clusters of kids, saying hi, smiling, laughing. Her entire evening is spent like that, chatting with all sorts of different people; the usual 09ers of course, but also a few outside her tight little circle and even some who she’s only spoken to a few times in passing.
When they aren’t together - which is only a handful of times - Logan keeps an eye on Veronica, watches her mill around, flashing a smile or giving a nod. Still sometimes she’ll catch him sneaking a look; while talking with the guys or sliding through the crowd, drink clutched above his head as he moves, trying to appear busy but eyeing her the whole time.
As the night fades the group dwindles down to just fifteen or so all gathered in the Casablanca’s enormous kitchen. Veronica is standing in the middle of her friends giving Dick a hard time, everyone sort of chiming in, and she thinks Dick might be getting a little bit pissed but the thought drifts off when she hears Logan call for her from the doorway. She turns to see him leaning against the jamb, smiling and spinning his keys around his finger.
“We need to go. Your dad said eleven, remember?” Mischief lights his eyes.
Smiling Veronica huffs fake exasperation, shoulders drooping, before offering good-byes; hugging everyone, including Dick - who quits being mad when she presses herself against him - and then weaving her way through the group, eyes locked on Logan.
When she gets to the doorway Logan’s arm falls easily around her neck, squeezing her playfully he scolds, "You're going to get me in trouble with your dad, bringing you home late, and then what?”
“You’ll be arrested for impeding the bedtime of a minor,” she jokes loud enough for the gang to hear- if they’re even listening - before Logan uses his grip to lead her out and down the hall to the foyer.
***
“Have her home by midnight,” is what Keith actually said. Veronica’s never had a midnight curfew in her life - not that she’s always minded the one she does have - but something about Logan makes Keith do strange things. Same could be said for her, she supposes. In any case, a condoned increase in her curfew was a gift and sometime during the party she and Logan covertly agreed that being early was a good way to build trust with her father, for both of them.
Getting home a little after eleven means they had silently agreed to other things as well.
Standing in the threshold of the front door with Logan a step down on the porch - leaning as he does, all pliant and at ease - is how they’ve been since Logan brought her home. The added height allows her eyes to be directly aligned with his which is more disconcerting than she’d like to admit, makes it sort of hard to concentrate on what he’s saying; something about surfing or possibly the internet, whatever, his mouth is really cute when he talks and so she watches it a little more, until she thinks she hears him asks if she’s listening. And then again. And yes, he definitely asked this time.
“Huh? Yeah, of course I’m listening,” she assures, stammering over the lie.
“Well it looked like you were staring at my mouth.” The sly grin on his incredibly cute mouth telling her he likes the attention.
Instantly a flush fills her cheeks and she smacks her tongue past her lips, hazy. “Hmm?” she mutters, guilty, unable to think of a coherent retort.
Chuckling, Logan shoves his hands into his pockets and shakes his head at her, his smile so wide it crinkles his eyes. “What is with you?”
“Like you don’t know,” she offers, smiling back, astonished at her candor.
Ever since they walked into Dick’s without incident - as though it is completely normal for the two of them so show up together - she’s felt kind of high, like maybe things will work out; a thought which freaks her out a little and makes her excited too. Add to that Logan’s innate ability to make her feel amazing, funny, perfect, like she’s the only thing that matters and she’s suddenly just really sure; of herself, and of them.
“I do?” Logan almost purrs his reply, stepping in - finally - lips parted.
“Mm-hmm,” Veronica breathes, all confident and predatory refusing to break the gaze they share, she leans in, her hands coming to grip the collar of his windbreaker as she pulls her too him, resting her head on his.
“Confession,” Logan begins, seemingly changing the subject of exactly what it is that’s wrong with her, which she doesn’t mind because she can guess what he was about to say next and not saying it out loud - making it tangible and real - is probably better.
“Yes?” she coaxes, eyes fluttering closed then open while continuing to hold on to him.
“I was this close to driving to your place when you showed up.”
“Really?”
“God yes,” he exhales, beaming while he absently curls his arms around her waist, making her take in a surprised breath. But she steadies herself… somehow.
“What were you going to say?” Swallowing hard she waits anxiously for his answer.
“Word for word?” he teases. Then she pulls back, letting out a quick breath and, feeling serious suddenly, looks gently at him wishing that wish again the one where something magical happens, allowing them to continue this with no fall-out.
“Generally,” she offers with a quick shrug.
And, like always, he reacts to the shift in her mood, getting more serious himself. “Uh, well, something about how I can’t do it,” he begins, “can’t force myself to hang out with Dick and the guys just to avoid hanging out with you when they bore me to tears and I spend all my time wondering where you are and what you’re doing anyway.”
“Oh.” Veronica bites at her lip. He reaches up then, slips a finger through a strand of her hair and tucks it behind her ear.
“I’m not immune to consequences, Veronica, despite what you think. If something happened…” he stops, dipping his head to meet her eyes, “…Duncan would never forgive me and Lilly would make my life hell. So you’re not alone in this.”
Feeling her heart race, she gulps down the intense emotions that snuck up on her and exhales loudly, the shakiness of her breathing very apparent and all of a sudden she can feel her eyes begin to well with tears. “I’m not?” she shudders.
“Never,” he assures, cupping her face in his hand. “I realize how screwed up this all is. I still can’t justify staying away from you. Because whatever my status is with Lilly or whatever you’ve got going with Duncan, it doesn’t change what’s between us.”
“But we can’t…” she breathes the words, eyeing his face for a reaction which is just as she’d hoped; calm, smiling, understanding.
“I know.”
“…we have to set limits,” she finishes, even though she’s sure that he is very aware of that fact.
“So what’s your limit?” Smiling, Logan pulls her closer again, his fingers slipping through her hair, then down her arm, “This?”
Unable to verbalize even a croak, Veronica doesn’t respond, just traces her lips with her tongue, not nodding, not shaking her head, completely afraid to answer either way.
Just a moment passes and Logan let’s go, only to slide his hands to either side of her face, and brush his lips lightly across her forehead. “This?” he asks, moving back to look at her, wait for her response.
Absolutely frozen from a cocktail of fear and lust, she can only stare into his eyes.
“You drive a hard bargain” he says, moving his hands around her waist again and burying his face in the crook of her neck.
“You’re hard to resist.” The words slip out through a tremble and the part of her that wants to take them back loses to the part of her that wants Logan to know.
“Are you sober?” Chuckling against her ear, Logan uses his grip to lift her up and spin her around, setting her down on the porch next to him, not letting go.
“Of course,” she assures through a laugh of her own, peering up at him, her hands gliding up his arms, keeping him close. “Why?”
“You seem… different.”
“Mm-hmm,” she agrees.
“…Like you could do almost anything right now,” he continues.
“Yeah.” She shudders, swallowing hard, her eyes never leaving him.
“But you’re not. Doing anything. And neither am I,” Logan offers, “Nothing we haven’t always done.”
Debate team. That’s where Logan would excel. Since she met him she’s known he can argue his way out of or into anything, if he sets his mind to it. Of course, he’s also quite the diplomat, making people think they’ve won when - at best - they’ve broken even. Veronica is more aware of his talents than probably anyone else, and yet she still finds herself unable to argue. Or not really wanting to. So she shakes her head at the idea that she had any shot at winning this dispute, or possibly at the fact that she even bothered to try to be good, because she never cared to in the first place.
“So, can we agree to knock off this stupid pact and just hang out?”
“Do you think we should?” she asks, knowing before he opens his mouth what his answer will be.
“Yes. Because you and I - we - can manage to keep our hands off each other,” he explains, smiling as he looks down to see that his finger is now linked into Veronica’s belt loop. “Okay, our lips…we can manage to keep our lips off each other. I’m not promising anything else.”
There are no words. Nothing really to say because she knows already that he’s the victor, so she just slips her arms around his waist and holds him tight, allowing herself to take in the warm feeling of his big frame draped around her - arguing with herself, that Logan’s right, it’s always been this way; they’ve always been close, his embrace no different than it ever was, and that letting their fingers linger a little longer or resting her head on his chest like this is no different than when he slings his arm around her shoulders to playfully drag her down the hall at school.
“Is that a ‘yes’?” he asks, his voice muffled against her hair.
“Yes,” she concedes. Instantly wondering just how long it will be until they give in completely.
/end chapter