Veronica’s Adventures in Law School (WIP 2/?) - Rindee - L/V - R
Title: Veronica’s Adventures in Law School (WIP 2/?)
Author: Rindee
Pairing: Veronica/Logan, with Keith Mars and Wallace Fennel
Rating: Hard R (this chapter) - will be NC-17 before it's done.
Word Count: 5854 or so.
Spoilers: AU fic set five years after high school, so spoilers for everything in seasons 1 & 2.
A/N: Begun as a one-shot for the vmlyricfic challenge, but I was having so much fun, and the characters wouldn't be quiet, and I didn't want to stop, so now it's a WIP and posted to the loveathonsEpic Challenge. Muchas garcias to my beta, rowanlove, who is fast, funny, and so sharp. All the mistakes are mine.
Chapter one, Words and Actions
“Yeah, thanks. I got it.” Keith Mars hung up the phone and waved. “Hey, Logan. Come in. Come on in.” Flashing his best ‘polite’ smile, Logan Echolls strolled into the office, depositing a take-out sack in the only clear space on Keith’s desk and slouching into the closest chair. “How’s it going? Want something to drink?” He nodded gratefully as Keith passed him a soda.
“Thanks, Mr. M.”
“Logan, you’ve been dating, and discreetly living with, my daughter, Veronica, for the past year-and-a-half, and you’ve been covertly working for me for the last six months.” Keith handed Logan a sandwich from the bag. “Don’t you think it’s time you started calling me Keith?” Logan shrugged with his trademark je ne sais quoi and popped the top on his coke. “What is it with you and secrets, anyway. Is there something I should know?”
Logan chugged half the can in one gulp, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before answering. “Not really. It was your suggestion, if I remember correctly, and although it’s probably not necessary any more, I don’t see any reason to advertise our living arrangement. It can’t do Veronica any good, especially since she’d hate having paparazzi following her around. She’ll have to deal with that soon enough, once we’re engaged. If we get engaged.” He sat very still, his long fingers steepled under his chin, his face impassive.
Keith took a bite of his Italian sub, nodded, and swallowed. It had taken him quite a while to accept Logan as an important part of Veronica’s life. The transition hadn’t been helped by the historically on-again, off-again nature of their relationship, but eventually, once Keith began to understand who Logan was, apart from his gilded, celebrity-strewn childhood, murderous, former-A-list-movie-star dad, and the bad choices he’d made in adolescence, he realized Logan was trying to improve. Since then, Keith had begun to relax a bit, and had even become somewhat fond of Logan. “How’s that going, anyway?” he asked kindly.
“She’s not ready,” Logan replied matter-of-factly, busily unwrapping lunch.
“You guys talk about it?”
“Nope. It hasn’t exactly come up in conversation.” Logan tossed his apple high into the air and caught it one-handed before taking a bite. “She’s been preoccupied with school, and, well, I just think now’s not the time to push her.” Keith nodded again, searching for the right words. Although Logan, like Veronica, was the progeny of an alcoholic mother who’d abandoned her child, both men knew he was the more open and emotionally available of the two and that, even under the best of circumstances, Veronica could be overly anxious and controlling.
The son of actors, Logan had spent much of his childhood watching people feign life. Too early, he’d learned to read the tiny gestures and body language that sometimes conveyed more than was intended. Another of Logan’s best qualities was his ability to listen, both to what was, and wasn’t, said. While with Veronica, he’d endured more breakup blowouts than he cared to count, so, when they began dating for the insert-a-number-here time, he’d begun to listen and really hear her as she, after dinner and a glass of wine, or over the perfect margarita at their favorite, local taqueria, just talked: about her professors; Wallace’s latest on-court feat; the cool classic she’d been reading for English Lit; the perils of working with the newest klutz at the Hut; and, of course, her beloved father Keith, and his recent reunion with Alicia Fennel.
He realized that, underneath the coolly accomplished persona she presented to the world, a part of her was still the insecure, vaguely tomboyish, soccer-playing twelve-year-old he’d fallen for ten years before. Having learned her vulnerabilities, he’d developed a keen sense of when to press and when to ease off. He understood Veronica’s ruthless, driving need to manage every aspect of her life, including, sometimes, him, so he often surrendered the relationship reins and let her take the lead, because she needed to feel in control. It was what made her feel safe inside.
The Veronica rules didn’t apply to sex, which was endlessly good for both of them. Healthy, horny, and, at 22, ever-ready, Logan gloried in his ability to drop everything and make Veronica shudder and scream. There’d always been sexual tension between them, even when they were 12 and didn’t understand their feelings. When they began dating seriously, Logan assumed that as long as their physical bond was intense and intact, as long as Veronica continued to open her body to him, they could weather their personal storms. But somewhere along the line, he realized their physical connection didn’t translate to emotional intimacy for her. Veronica was sort of like a guy in that respect. If she was angry when they went to bed, she was usually still mad when they woke up the next morning. Even after an epic fuck.
“I know your daughter pretty well, Mr. Mars,” Logan began, eyes averted, fingers pushing the waxed sandwich paper in circles on the desktop. “Believe me when I tell you, I would like nothing more than to make her my bride, but ... she has ... trust issues. Can’t say I blame her. I’m not sure I’d trust me either, if I were her.”
“She knows you love her,” Keith said gently as he scrubbed a napkin across his mouth. “She’s said so more than once. She loves you, too, you know,” he mumbled, taking another bite.
“Yeah? What’d she say?” Logan challenged, his eyebrow cocked in disbelief. “She may have told you, but she doesn’t say it to me.”
“Have you considered taking the bull by the horns, so to speak, and just talking to her about marriage?”
Titling his chair back on two legs, Logan rolled his eyes and stared at a corner of the ceiling, his jaw muscle twitching. “I will, when the time’s right.”
“You better get to it soon, son. I’m expecting grandchildren, you know,” Keith announced slyly, eyes dancing. “I’m thinking seven or eight would be good.”
Logan’s chair bounced to the floor with a loud thud as he guffawed. “What? Wait. I think you’d better talk to your daughter about that, Keith.”
“What’s the matter, Logan? Aren’t you man enough to father children?”
“Oh, believe me, I’m man enough. Veronica --” His teeth clicked audibly as he abruptly stopped, remembering who he was bragging to. “So, did you want to see the Maccaluso pictures? They’re on my desk. I forgot the camera, though. I think Veronica’s still got it.”
“Yeah, yeah. Go get ‘em.”
With a relieved sigh, Logan popped out of his chair and retrieved the packet from the desk Veronica unknowingly shared with him. Returning with the photos, he fanned them out so he and Keith could peruse them from every angle, trying to decide which they should forward to the FBI. Logan took notes on his PDA as Keith assessed the various shots. Finally, Logan looked at his watch.
“Damn, it’s almost three. Gotta go, Keith. I’m supposed to pick up Veronica at four.”
“The LeBaron - ”
“- is in the shop again.”
“I know how you feel about the ‘trusty’ LeBaron,” Keith circled his hand. “What’s wrong with it this time?”
Logan grinned guiltily. “Nothing, actually. Routine maintenance this time.”
“You take it to Angel’s?”
“Yeah. Weevil, Eli, insisted. He thinks he still ‘owes’ her and won’t let her take it anywhere else.”
“That’s good. How’s Eli doing?”
Logan scowled, still bothered by Veronica’s friendship with Eli “Weevil” Navarro, particularly in light of the events of summer between Veronica’s sophomore and junior year of college.
He’d always been jealous of the time Veronica spent with Weevil; his anger was fueled by the admiration and longing he saw on Weevil’s face every time Weevil looked at Veronica. Finally, unable to endure another minute of it, he’d cracked and demanded she stop spending time with Navarro. His demand precipitated one of the most bitter fights in Echolls-Mars history. Veronica accused him of trying to control her and dictate with whom she could be friends. He counter-charged she was trying to ‘be Lilly’ by keeping Navarro dangling in case she got bored. Furious with her, and nagged by his suspicion that she had ‘feelings’ for Eli, he told her to choose. Veronica insisted she hadn’t done anything wrong, but if she had to choose between a boyfriend whose head was wedged so far up his ass he was probably oxygen-deprived, and a guy who’d always been a friend, she was going to choose her friend.
He’d left for Chicago the next morning. He didn’t call or write; hell, he hadn’t even told her he was leaving before he vanished. He consumed enough alcohol during his first week in Chi that he barely remembered where he was. After three more weeks of feeling sorry for himself, drinking enough booze to float the entire 5th fleet, and attempting to distract himself with nameless, faceless bimbos, he concluded nothing was going to get Veronica out of his heart or mind. And he wasn’t going to give her up without a fight. He remembered how nauseated he’d felt when, after returning to Neptune on his proverbial knees, he’d observed Veronica leaving her dorm with Eli Navarro, his arm slung comfortably around her shoulder, her face aglow with laughter.
Later, he confronted her, declaring he wouldn’t allow her to discard their relationship so easily. After several weeks of relentless pursuit, he finally wore her down. She agreed to give them one more chance. Their first reunion night, he told her he didn’t care what had happened while he was gone; he would find a way to deal with her friendship with Weevil as long as she didn’t have romantic feelings for him. The look in her eye, when she confessed Weevil was a substitute for him, made him wonder whether she felt guilty for using Weevil to try to forget him, or whether she was ashamed she’d tried to move on without Logan. Once she swore she didn’t like Eli like that, he decided he didn’t want to know what had happened, because it didn’t matter anymore, and he wasn’t sure he could handle knowing. He spent the next six months rebuilding his relationship with Veronica.
“Okay, I guess,” Logan gingerly touched the faded yellow spot on his cheek. “If you want more information, you’ll have to ask your daughter. We’re not exactly BFFs.”
Keith shrugged nonchalantly. “Yeah. Okay. Go on, get outta here. Tell Veronica to call me later?”
“Will do.” Logan stood and extended his hand. The two men shook. “See you tomorrow, Keith.” He turned and walked out of the office.
“Oh, and, Logan?”
“Yeah, Keith.” He stuck his head back in the door.
“Don’t forget to tell Veronica you dropped off the Maccaluso photos.”
“Got it. Later.”
“Goodbye.... Oh, and, hey! Logan!” He reappeared in the doorway, slouching against the frame.
“What is it, Keith?”
“Maybe you want to tell Veronica about this,” he gestured between them. “Our little arrangement. Don’t you think it’s time she knew?”
Logan shook his head skeptically. “How do you do that? They don’t teach it at the academy. I checked.”
“Do what?”
“Read minds. Specifically, mine. I was planning on telling her tonight, at dinner.”
“Oh, okay. Okay, then. Let me know if you need a place to sleep tonight.”
“Riiiight. Bye, Boss.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Logan jauntily waved to the perky brunette at the circulation desk and strode through the metal detector, searching for his elusive blonde. He caught a glimpse of her slender shoulders; she was slumped at a table facing the back window, head down, highlighting furiously, surrounded by papers, open texts, and scattered pens. Creeping up behind, and noting the temptingly exposed skin of her neck, he bent down and swiftly bit her. Shocked, she lurched, sending her pen flying and her books sliding across the polished wood. “Logan,” she hissed, rubbing the red mark caused when her thigh collided with the underside of the table. “What are you doing?”
He chuckled and smoothed his fingers over the tiny blemish at her nape, ruffling a piece of hair that had escaped the clip. “I’m your ride, remember? Are you ready now? I can come back.” Veronica shook her head crossly, yanking her skirt down to cover the contusion blooming on her thigh.
“No, ’s okay. I’m ready. Let me get my stuff.” She stood, slamming books and stuffing papers into her backpack. “Did you see my - ” She glared as Logan proffered the orange highlighter. “Thank you.” She snatched it from him and continued packing. “Okay, let’s go.”
Logan let her pass, and, turning to follow, silently trailed her through the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. He brushed by a study carrel and, noticing the precarious pile of heavy, dusty, yawn-inducing volumes, stopped. “Veronica.”
Miffed, expecting more misbehavior, Veronica swung round. “What is it, Logan?”
“C’mere a minute.”
Puzzled, she moved to his side, touching his elbow. “What? It’s an assigned study carrel.”
“So this is it? This is the great perk you’re going to get when you make law review?”
Veronica tilted her head thoughtfully, surprised he’d been paying attention. “If. If I make law review. Yeah, that’s the big perk. That and, well, a little money. And I’ll be published before I graduate.”
“Veronica,” he whispered smugly. “You’re going to make law review. And, believe me, this is not all you’re gonna get when you do.”
She giggled, remembering. The day she’d gotten her law school acceptance letter, they’d spent the afternoon cuddled on Logan’s couch, reading the course lists, brochures and introductory material. He’d seemed almost as excited as she, and peppered her with questions. When did the semester start ... what was her schedule going to be ... what classes was she taking first term ... what did she expect ... was she anxious (Ha!) ... did she think she was going to like it ... how many years before she graduated ... what was law review and how did one make it .... She’d explained law review invites were based on first year grades and a writing submission, but didn’t think he’d heard because, suddenly, he asked The Real Question - was she going to live in the dorm, and how would it affect their relationship if she did? He was obviously worried, but trying to be supportive, and, because she wanted to give them a real chance, she hadn’t taken his head off for asking. Days later, after much debate, a hot night in bed, an expensive box of chocolate, and an unexpected diamond and emerald necklace that made her cry, she agreed to continue living with him. So far, she hadn’t regretted it. He’d promised the matching bracelet if she made law review. Not that she needed, or wanted, his incentive.
Possessively taking his hand, she tugged him toward the entrance. “If I make law review,” she said firmly. “Don’t jinx me now, Logan.”
At the car, he took her bag and flung it in the back. “Where to?”
“Angel’s. My car?”
“Nope. I called Weevil on the way over. It won’t be ready ‘til noon tomorrow. Do you have a lot of studying to do tonight?”
“When don’t I have to study?” she groaned. “Actually, I got a lot done this afternoon, so I could probably spare a few hours. What’d you have in mind?”
“Dinner it is, then,” he proclaimed. Stomach growling, she smiled happily.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Without asking, the host at Siam Garden escorted them to ‘their’ booth in the far back corner of the dining room. Veronica slid across the scarred red vinyl, her bare legs registering the many cracks and tears in the ancient fabric. She pushed the menu away, unopened, suddenly recalling another dinner at their favorite Thai restaurant, one they hadn’t eaten.
As a result of their breakup between sophomore and junior year, it had taken Logan a long while to begin to trust Veronica again. During the summer before her senior year at Hearst, she had been more-or-less living with Logan, although she kept her dorm room when the term started. She’d enrolled in Bio for Dummies, the last of her three required science units. She’d always been good in science, but it had been three years since she’d had a lab class, so she’d begun the semester by leaning rather heavily on her lab partner, Steve. Having had her all to himself for the entire summer, Logan had had trouble transitioning to her varied comings and goings, and became convinced she was seeing someone in one of her classes. So, when she’d started staying late and giving vague excuses, he’d gone ballistic and came looking for her one day after class. The fight had begun in the Bio lab, but they’d finished it at Siam Garden.
“Stop it, Logan.” Eyes blazing, she jerked from his grasp as she slid into the booth. “I told you, we’re not doing anything. Steve’s my lab partner. That’s all.”
“Yeah, well, you two looked pretty cozy to me,” he huffed, nudging her with one hip and settling in beside her.
“We were sharing a microscope, you ass. You didn’t have to - ”
“- Grab you? Yes, I did. I didn’t like the way he was leaning into you.” Veronica shook her head, trying to decide whether it was okay to be a little flattered by Logan’s rampant jealousy, despite its occasionally ugly consequences.
She attempted to look stern. “You could’ve really hurt him.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t. Did you see the look on his face when I - ”
“- Hit him. Yes, I did. He totally freaked.” Muffling her smile, Veronica bit her lip as she flashed back to Logan storming the lab. He’d pulled her from the stool with one hand as he swung wildly with the other, catching the unsuspecting Steve across the bridge of his nose. She knew he probably hadn’t meant to hit the guy, but rather, wanted merely to scare him. Unfortunately, his errant punch connected with Steve’s face, damaging it and likely his ego too. Logan’s ego, on the other hand, was perfectly unharmed.
“I drove him to the hospital, Veronica, and paid the bill. What more do you want me to do?” Logan flexed his fist gingerly, opening and closing his fingers with a grimace.
Staring pointedly at his bruised right knuckles, she reached for him. “You should put some ice on that before it swells too much,” she replied in a slightly-more-sympathetic tone.
Logan plunged his hand into his water glass, ice cubes clenched in his fist as he pulled it out. The waiter, who’d arrived unannounced, opened his mouth to describe the daily specials. Before he could say anything, Logan ordered half the menu, added a bottle of wine, and dismissed him. Staring defiantly at Veronica, he dropped his hand under the table and slowly began dribbling ice water up her inner thigh.
Startled, she hissed, “What are you doing, Logan?”
He smirked. “Payback’s a bitch, Veronica. You know that.” She flinched and tried to move away, but he tightened his grip and inched the ice chip higher, whirling it over her skin as he went.
She giggled nervously until he brushed the edge of her thin cotton bikinis. “Logan,” she squeaked, her face flushed.
He turned, as if to comfort her. His other hand clamped on her knee like a vise, pinning her in place. “What, dear,” he murmured seductively while icy water dripped between her legs. He began to caress her, his elegant fingers damp and cold under her skirt.
“Your hand - ” she gasped.
“My hand is fine, Veronica, but thank you for your concern.”
Shivering, her pulse beginning to race, she wrapped her left hand around his wrist and squeezed. Logan’s eyes darkened, but his fingers continued their ministrations. Unnoticed, the server tentatively approached again, almost flinging the appetizers on the table before scurrying away. Humming softly, Logan bent down and kissed her exposed collarbone, the motion of his tongue imitating the movement of his hand. She arched involuntarily, straining to bring him closer.
“Logan?”
“Veronica.”
“I think ... we should ... I - ”
“You? We? What is it, Sugarpuss?”
“I don’t think ... I’m not hungry any more. Can we get our food to go?”
Chuckling wickedly, Logan summoned the waiter and asked for their food to be boxed and the check delivered, announcing the little woman felt suddenly dizzy. They barely made into the car before Veronica exacted her revenge, much to Logan’s enthusiastic, loud, delight.
Shaking her head to clear the memory, Veronica shoved the menu aside and faced him. “So, what did you want to tell me that you couldn’t say at home?”
“Huh?” Logan tried to look innocent. Failing miserably, he lowered his eyes.
“C’mon, Echolls. Spill. I know you brought me here so I couldn’t make a scene. What is it?”
“I had lunch with your dad today. I dropped off the Maccaluso file.”
“Uh hun. And?” She snapped her fingers impatiently. “I’m waiting here, Logan. Try to keep up, if you can?”
Taking a deep breath, Logan blurted, “For the past nine months, I’ve been taking criminal justice classes at the community college. And I’ve been working for your father for the last six months. I like it, and I want to get certified for a PI license so I can go into business with Keith. I’m taking martial arts classes so I can defend myself without hurting anyone. It was his idea.”
Stunned by the torrent of words, Veronica gaped for a moment. “Okaay. And you couldn’t tell me, why?” Logan stayed mum, waiting for her to digest it all. “You thought I’d be upset that you’ve decided to continue your education?”
“No, it’s not that - ”
“You’ve been working with my dad? My Dad! Without telling me? You and he have been hiding it from me for, how long? Six months?”
“Veronica - ”
“Don’t ‘veronica’ me, Logan Echolls. Looks like I’m not the one keeping secrets this time. I just want to know what brought about this miraculous metamorphosis. Who is she, Logan?”
“Hey! It’s not like that, Veronica. You didn’t think I was going to be a cholo playboy for the rest of my life, did you?”
“I don’t know, Logan. It’s worked pretty well for you up to now. And since when do you speak Spanglish? Been hanging at Angel’s again? What else have you been doing that I don’t know about? God, Logan, for someone who claims to hate secrets, you’ve sure done a good job keeping them from me.” She paused to breathe, but before he could speak, her tirade resumed. “So, what’s next, Logan? Am I gonna find out you’ve been sleeping with Angel’s hija, Carmelita, and dancing at the Seventh Veil on kareoke night? Or maybe you’ve taken up Indy car racing on the weekends when I’m busy studying?” She crossed her arms protectively over her chest and looked away, gazing at the ceramic, grass-skirted hula girl and lei-wearing uke boy salt-and-pepper set that decorated the table.
“Ronnie - ”
“- Don’t call me - ”
“- Just listen to me for a minute, will ya. Veronica.”
She humphed and twisted in her seat, bringing her knees up and wrapping her arms around them. He reached for her hand and she slapped him away. “Go ahead. Explain. You’ve got five minutes, then I’m outta here.”
Cautiously, Logan outlined his reasoning. After almost three years of therapy, he’d realized he needed to do something purposeful, maybe even meaningful, with his life. Like she was. But not as a doctor or lawyer. Those professions were too constricting, and he didn’t have the discipline. He wanted to help people, though, and went to Keith for guidance, figuring she’d ultimately approve of anything Keith suggested. Working for Keith had just happened. It wasn’t planned, but it made sense. He hadn’t wanted to tell her until he knew he would be successful.
Half-way through, Veronica’s face began to soften. She didn’t smile, but Logan could tell she got it when she uncoiled her arms and dropped one leg to the floor. She let him finish.
“Keith’s been bugging me to tell you for a month, but I needed to have a plan, not just ‘hey, Veronica, look at me, I’m taking classes and working out.’ So, now, I’ve got one.”
“Working with my father? Do you intend to continue working with him?”
“Yes, Ronnie. What’s wrong with that?” Her palm bounced tensely on the tabletop as she gnawed on her bottom lip.
“Logan, what happens if you - if we - what if we, and by that I mean, we, don’t make it? As a couple, I mean.”
Logan scooted into the juncture between her legs and took her hand. “I’m not going anywhere, Veronica. You’re going to have to kill me to get rid of me.”
“Don’t give me any ideas, Echolls.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Three hours later, Veronica was ensconced on the sofa, her notes and books scattered about the cushions and coffee table. Feet propped on the edge of the table, laptop balanced on her thighs, she mumbled incoherent fragments as she composed her final argument for Trial Ad. Logan watched from the doorway, thinking how adorable she was when she concentrated.
“Ronnie.”
“Uh huh.”
“I’m gonna go shoot some hoops with Wallace.”
“Wallace? Wallace Fennel? My BFF? I didn’t know he was in town?”
“He said he’s left messages, here and on your cell. Don’t you listen to your messages?” She grimaced guiltily. “Yeah, I think he did. I’ve been so busy, though. Tell him to call me later. Maybe we can get coffee. How long’s he in for?”
“I don’t know, Ronnie. I haven’t talked to him other than to make arrangements to crush him on the court.” Logan slapped the basketball between his hands. “I’ll tell him. You going to be up later?”
“I should be. I’m not going to be able to sleep. My argument’s tomorrow at one.”
“I know.” It was a big deal. Her first argument in a real courtroom, before a panel of real-live judges, along with any friends and family who wanted to attend. He knew she was scared and anxious, and had been so for weeks. He waited for her to say something, to invite him again or remind him to come, but when she resumed typing without further comment, he shrugged, said goodbye, and left.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dripping sweat, down by three, Logan heaved the ball over Wallace’s outstretched arms and into the basket. “Winner by two, right?” he gasped, pounding the ball.
“Hold up there, white boy. What’cha tryin’ to do, brotha? You must think you’re Rick Barry tonight.” Although Wallace’s face glistened under the lights, he was nowhere near as fatigued, or as sweaty, as Logan.
“Rick who?”
Wallace shook his head disgustedly. “Yeah, just what I thought. You can’t even really talk the talk, much less walk the walk. You just got lucky tonight, huh?”
Logan smiled enigmatically. “Told you I’ve been working out.”
“Yeah, well. You’re right, your stamina’s gettin’ better, but look at you now, suckin’ air. You still can’t compete with the greatness that is Wallace Fennel.” He bent, hands on knees, and swiped at the ball. “Okay, boy. C’mon. Bring it - if you think you can.” Dropping the ball, Logan raised his palms in surrender.
“Nah, that’s okay. Wouldn’t want to take you down on your first night in town. Rematch tomorrow?”
“‘S aight by me. You sure your missus gonna let you out of the house again?” Laughing, Wallace picked up the ball. Just then, Logan’s cell trilled the theme from Secret Agent Man.
“Hey, I gotta get that. It’s Keith.” Wallace nodded knowingly. He’d kept abreast of Logan’s activities at Mars Investigations through his mother, and already knew about the case.
Logan flipped open his cell. “Hey, Keith, what’s up?”
“Logan. Where are you? Is Veronica with you?”
“No, she’s at home, rewriting her argument for the twenty-hundredth time. I’m at the park, shooting hoops with Mr. Fennel. I’m about to kick his - ”
“She’s home alone? You’re sure she’s still at home? She hasn’t left to come to the office for anything?”
“Yeah, Keith, I’m pretty sure she wasn’t planning on going anywhere tonight. Why? What’s wrong? Did something happen, ‘cause you’re scaring me. Are you alright?”
“Yes, something has happened, but I’m fine. Look, I need you to get over here. There’s something you’ve got to see.”
“What about Veronica? I don’t want her to be alone, especially if there’s trouble. Is it the Macca - ”
“Yes, Logan, it is. But I don’t want to talk about it on the phone. Have Wallace make up an excuse to stay with her ‘til you get home. Tell him - ”
“It shouldn’t be a problem, Keith.” Without hearing Keith’s side of the conversation, Wallace was at Logan’s side, alert and wide-eyed, nodding vigorously. “He hasn’t seen her yet, and it’s not like he needs an excuse to hang with his BFF.”
“Okay. Good. I don’t want her knowing about this just yet.”
“I’ll be there in five, Keith.”
“Thanks, Logan.” The line went dead. Absently running his hand through his damp, matted hair, Logan stared vacantly for a sec, then snapped his head toward Wallace.
“I don’t know how much of that you heard - ”
“Yeah, I heard enough. Veronica’s in trouble. I’m on the way.”
“No, actually, I don’t think Veronica’s in trouble, at least not yet, but something happened at the office, and Keith wants me there. Can you hang with Vee ‘til I get home?”
Wallace slapped Logan’s shoulder. “Sure thing, big guy. You know I’ll take care a’ your girl, she’s my BFF. Don’t even think about it. Go on, now. I’m gone.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As he pulled into the driveway, Wallace could see Veronica, backlit by lamp light, silhouetted in the massive picture window. He watched for a moment, to see if she’d detected his arrival, but she continued banging on her keyboard, oblivious to the world outside her cozy, cloistered home. Damn, she’s losing her touch, he thought worriedly. The Veronica he’d left behind would’ve noticed him driving up. Hell, his Veronica would have known he was there as soon as he turned the corner. He slammed the car door and jogged up the walk. As he raised his hand to knock, the door swung open.
“Wallace,” she grinned, arms wide. “I can’t believe you’re here. It’s so good to see you.” It took him a moment to react, but quickly enough, he enveloped Veronica in a huge hug.
“Good to see you too, Vee.” He tried to play it off as if he hadn’t been surprised when she was at the door.
“What?” She pulled back to look at his face. “You think I didn’t hear you pull up? C’mon, Wallace. I thought you knew me better than that.”
“It’s just ... it’s good to see you, Veronica Mars.”
“You too, Wallace Fennel. Are you coming in? Where’s Logan?” She peered over his shoulder into the dusky twilight.
Startled, Wallace remembered that Veronica would have known he’d been with Logan. But Logan wasn’t with him now. He was going to have to come up with a good lie, and fast.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Banging heedlessly up the stairs, his key in hand, Logan burst through the unlocked door of Mars Investigations, expecting who-knows-what. He found Keith, still as a statue and just as silent, sitting at Veronica’s desk, staring at an image on the screen. “Keith, are you okay?”
“No, I’m not. I mean, yes, I’m physically unharmed, but I’m not okay.” He turned the laptop so Logan could see it. It was an e-mail attachment, a photograph of Veronica’s LeBaron. A relatively new photograph, Logan could tell, because the fender work he’d paid for less than three months ago was clearly visible. Someone had photoshopped the picture so that the car appeared to be sinking into a pile of goo. Slick, oily goo. With Veronica still in the LeBaron. The e-mail read: “It would be a shame if your daughter, Veronica, got herself into something she couldn’t get out of. Consider yourself warned.”
Logan groaned, then swore. “Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I knew we should’ve kept her out of it. Keith? Mr. Mars?” As he raised his face to Logan, Keith’s normally warm, bright eyes were dull and lifeless. He seemed to have aged immeasurably in the past six hours.
“What, Logan?”
Logan rubbed his palms against his eyes, then dragged his hands down his face. “What’re we gonna do,” he demanded. “They’re after Veronica.”
~~~~~~~~~ End chapter 2 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Author: Rindee
Pairing: Veronica/Logan, with Keith Mars and Wallace Fennel
Rating: Hard R (this chapter) - will be NC-17 before it's done.
Word Count: 5854 or so.
Spoilers: AU fic set five years after high school, so spoilers for everything in seasons 1 & 2.
A/N: Begun as a one-shot for the vmlyricfic challenge, but I was having so much fun, and the characters wouldn't be quiet, and I didn't want to stop, so now it's a WIP and posted to the loveathonsEpic Challenge. Muchas garcias to my beta, rowanlove, who is fast, funny, and so sharp. All the mistakes are mine.
Chapter one, Words and Actions
“Yeah, thanks. I got it.” Keith Mars hung up the phone and waved. “Hey, Logan. Come in. Come on in.” Flashing his best ‘polite’ smile, Logan Echolls strolled into the office, depositing a take-out sack in the only clear space on Keith’s desk and slouching into the closest chair. “How’s it going? Want something to drink?” He nodded gratefully as Keith passed him a soda.
“Thanks, Mr. M.”
“Logan, you’ve been dating, and discreetly living with, my daughter, Veronica, for the past year-and-a-half, and you’ve been covertly working for me for the last six months.” Keith handed Logan a sandwich from the bag. “Don’t you think it’s time you started calling me Keith?” Logan shrugged with his trademark je ne sais quoi and popped the top on his coke. “What is it with you and secrets, anyway. Is there something I should know?”
Logan chugged half the can in one gulp, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before answering. “Not really. It was your suggestion, if I remember correctly, and although it’s probably not necessary any more, I don’t see any reason to advertise our living arrangement. It can’t do Veronica any good, especially since she’d hate having paparazzi following her around. She’ll have to deal with that soon enough, once we’re engaged. If we get engaged.” He sat very still, his long fingers steepled under his chin, his face impassive.
Keith took a bite of his Italian sub, nodded, and swallowed. It had taken him quite a while to accept Logan as an important part of Veronica’s life. The transition hadn’t been helped by the historically on-again, off-again nature of their relationship, but eventually, once Keith began to understand who Logan was, apart from his gilded, celebrity-strewn childhood, murderous, former-A-list-movie-star dad, and the bad choices he’d made in adolescence, he realized Logan was trying to improve. Since then, Keith had begun to relax a bit, and had even become somewhat fond of Logan. “How’s that going, anyway?” he asked kindly.
“She’s not ready,” Logan replied matter-of-factly, busily unwrapping lunch.
“You guys talk about it?”
“Nope. It hasn’t exactly come up in conversation.” Logan tossed his apple high into the air and caught it one-handed before taking a bite. “She’s been preoccupied with school, and, well, I just think now’s not the time to push her.” Keith nodded again, searching for the right words. Although Logan, like Veronica, was the progeny of an alcoholic mother who’d abandoned her child, both men knew he was the more open and emotionally available of the two and that, even under the best of circumstances, Veronica could be overly anxious and controlling.
The son of actors, Logan had spent much of his childhood watching people feign life. Too early, he’d learned to read the tiny gestures and body language that sometimes conveyed more than was intended. Another of Logan’s best qualities was his ability to listen, both to what was, and wasn’t, said. While with Veronica, he’d endured more breakup blowouts than he cared to count, so, when they began dating for the insert-a-number-here time, he’d begun to listen and really hear her as she, after dinner and a glass of wine, or over the perfect margarita at their favorite, local taqueria, just talked: about her professors; Wallace’s latest on-court feat; the cool classic she’d been reading for English Lit; the perils of working with the newest klutz at the Hut; and, of course, her beloved father Keith, and his recent reunion with Alicia Fennel.
He realized that, underneath the coolly accomplished persona she presented to the world, a part of her was still the insecure, vaguely tomboyish, soccer-playing twelve-year-old he’d fallen for ten years before. Having learned her vulnerabilities, he’d developed a keen sense of when to press and when to ease off. He understood Veronica’s ruthless, driving need to manage every aspect of her life, including, sometimes, him, so he often surrendered the relationship reins and let her take the lead, because she needed to feel in control. It was what made her feel safe inside.
The Veronica rules didn’t apply to sex, which was endlessly good for both of them. Healthy, horny, and, at 22, ever-ready, Logan gloried in his ability to drop everything and make Veronica shudder and scream. There’d always been sexual tension between them, even when they were 12 and didn’t understand their feelings. When they began dating seriously, Logan assumed that as long as their physical bond was intense and intact, as long as Veronica continued to open her body to him, they could weather their personal storms. But somewhere along the line, he realized their physical connection didn’t translate to emotional intimacy for her. Veronica was sort of like a guy in that respect. If she was angry when they went to bed, she was usually still mad when they woke up the next morning. Even after an epic fuck.
“I know your daughter pretty well, Mr. Mars,” Logan began, eyes averted, fingers pushing the waxed sandwich paper in circles on the desktop. “Believe me when I tell you, I would like nothing more than to make her my bride, but ... she has ... trust issues. Can’t say I blame her. I’m not sure I’d trust me either, if I were her.”
“She knows you love her,” Keith said gently as he scrubbed a napkin across his mouth. “She’s said so more than once. She loves you, too, you know,” he mumbled, taking another bite.
“Yeah? What’d she say?” Logan challenged, his eyebrow cocked in disbelief. “She may have told you, but she doesn’t say it to me.”
“Have you considered taking the bull by the horns, so to speak, and just talking to her about marriage?”
Titling his chair back on two legs, Logan rolled his eyes and stared at a corner of the ceiling, his jaw muscle twitching. “I will, when the time’s right.”
“You better get to it soon, son. I’m expecting grandchildren, you know,” Keith announced slyly, eyes dancing. “I’m thinking seven or eight would be good.”
Logan’s chair bounced to the floor with a loud thud as he guffawed. “What? Wait. I think you’d better talk to your daughter about that, Keith.”
“What’s the matter, Logan? Aren’t you man enough to father children?”
“Oh, believe me, I’m man enough. Veronica --” His teeth clicked audibly as he abruptly stopped, remembering who he was bragging to. “So, did you want to see the Maccaluso pictures? They’re on my desk. I forgot the camera, though. I think Veronica’s still got it.”
“Yeah, yeah. Go get ‘em.”
With a relieved sigh, Logan popped out of his chair and retrieved the packet from the desk Veronica unknowingly shared with him. Returning with the photos, he fanned them out so he and Keith could peruse them from every angle, trying to decide which they should forward to the FBI. Logan took notes on his PDA as Keith assessed the various shots. Finally, Logan looked at his watch.
“Damn, it’s almost three. Gotta go, Keith. I’m supposed to pick up Veronica at four.”
“The LeBaron - ”
“- is in the shop again.”
“I know how you feel about the ‘trusty’ LeBaron,” Keith circled his hand. “What’s wrong with it this time?”
Logan grinned guiltily. “Nothing, actually. Routine maintenance this time.”
“You take it to Angel’s?”
“Yeah. Weevil, Eli, insisted. He thinks he still ‘owes’ her and won’t let her take it anywhere else.”
“That’s good. How’s Eli doing?”
Logan scowled, still bothered by Veronica’s friendship with Eli “Weevil” Navarro, particularly in light of the events of summer between Veronica’s sophomore and junior year of college.
He’d always been jealous of the time Veronica spent with Weevil; his anger was fueled by the admiration and longing he saw on Weevil’s face every time Weevil looked at Veronica. Finally, unable to endure another minute of it, he’d cracked and demanded she stop spending time with Navarro. His demand precipitated one of the most bitter fights in Echolls-Mars history. Veronica accused him of trying to control her and dictate with whom she could be friends. He counter-charged she was trying to ‘be Lilly’ by keeping Navarro dangling in case she got bored. Furious with her, and nagged by his suspicion that she had ‘feelings’ for Eli, he told her to choose. Veronica insisted she hadn’t done anything wrong, but if she had to choose between a boyfriend whose head was wedged so far up his ass he was probably oxygen-deprived, and a guy who’d always been a friend, she was going to choose her friend.
He’d left for Chicago the next morning. He didn’t call or write; hell, he hadn’t even told her he was leaving before he vanished. He consumed enough alcohol during his first week in Chi that he barely remembered where he was. After three more weeks of feeling sorry for himself, drinking enough booze to float the entire 5th fleet, and attempting to distract himself with nameless, faceless bimbos, he concluded nothing was going to get Veronica out of his heart or mind. And he wasn’t going to give her up without a fight. He remembered how nauseated he’d felt when, after returning to Neptune on his proverbial knees, he’d observed Veronica leaving her dorm with Eli Navarro, his arm slung comfortably around her shoulder, her face aglow with laughter.
Later, he confronted her, declaring he wouldn’t allow her to discard their relationship so easily. After several weeks of relentless pursuit, he finally wore her down. She agreed to give them one more chance. Their first reunion night, he told her he didn’t care what had happened while he was gone; he would find a way to deal with her friendship with Weevil as long as she didn’t have romantic feelings for him. The look in her eye, when she confessed Weevil was a substitute for him, made him wonder whether she felt guilty for using Weevil to try to forget him, or whether she was ashamed she’d tried to move on without Logan. Once she swore she didn’t like Eli like that, he decided he didn’t want to know what had happened, because it didn’t matter anymore, and he wasn’t sure he could handle knowing. He spent the next six months rebuilding his relationship with Veronica.
“Okay, I guess,” Logan gingerly touched the faded yellow spot on his cheek. “If you want more information, you’ll have to ask your daughter. We’re not exactly BFFs.”
Keith shrugged nonchalantly. “Yeah. Okay. Go on, get outta here. Tell Veronica to call me later?”
“Will do.” Logan stood and extended his hand. The two men shook. “See you tomorrow, Keith.” He turned and walked out of the office.
“Oh, and, Logan?”
“Yeah, Keith.” He stuck his head back in the door.
“Don’t forget to tell Veronica you dropped off the Maccaluso photos.”
“Got it. Later.”
“Goodbye.... Oh, and, hey! Logan!” He reappeared in the doorway, slouching against the frame.
“What is it, Keith?”
“Maybe you want to tell Veronica about this,” he gestured between them. “Our little arrangement. Don’t you think it’s time she knew?”
Logan shook his head skeptically. “How do you do that? They don’t teach it at the academy. I checked.”
“Do what?”
“Read minds. Specifically, mine. I was planning on telling her tonight, at dinner.”
“Oh, okay. Okay, then. Let me know if you need a place to sleep tonight.”
“Riiiight. Bye, Boss.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Logan jauntily waved to the perky brunette at the circulation desk and strode through the metal detector, searching for his elusive blonde. He caught a glimpse of her slender shoulders; she was slumped at a table facing the back window, head down, highlighting furiously, surrounded by papers, open texts, and scattered pens. Creeping up behind, and noting the temptingly exposed skin of her neck, he bent down and swiftly bit her. Shocked, she lurched, sending her pen flying and her books sliding across the polished wood. “Logan,” she hissed, rubbing the red mark caused when her thigh collided with the underside of the table. “What are you doing?”
He chuckled and smoothed his fingers over the tiny blemish at her nape, ruffling a piece of hair that had escaped the clip. “I’m your ride, remember? Are you ready now? I can come back.” Veronica shook her head crossly, yanking her skirt down to cover the contusion blooming on her thigh.
“No, ’s okay. I’m ready. Let me get my stuff.” She stood, slamming books and stuffing papers into her backpack. “Did you see my - ” She glared as Logan proffered the orange highlighter. “Thank you.” She snatched it from him and continued packing. “Okay, let’s go.”
Logan let her pass, and, turning to follow, silently trailed her through the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. He brushed by a study carrel and, noticing the precarious pile of heavy, dusty, yawn-inducing volumes, stopped. “Veronica.”
Miffed, expecting more misbehavior, Veronica swung round. “What is it, Logan?”
“C’mere a minute.”
Puzzled, she moved to his side, touching his elbow. “What? It’s an assigned study carrel.”
“So this is it? This is the great perk you’re going to get when you make law review?”
Veronica tilted her head thoughtfully, surprised he’d been paying attention. “If. If I make law review. Yeah, that’s the big perk. That and, well, a little money. And I’ll be published before I graduate.”
“Veronica,” he whispered smugly. “You’re going to make law review. And, believe me, this is not all you’re gonna get when you do.”
She giggled, remembering. The day she’d gotten her law school acceptance letter, they’d spent the afternoon cuddled on Logan’s couch, reading the course lists, brochures and introductory material. He’d seemed almost as excited as she, and peppered her with questions. When did the semester start ... what was her schedule going to be ... what classes was she taking first term ... what did she expect ... was she anxious (Ha!) ... did she think she was going to like it ... how many years before she graduated ... what was law review and how did one make it .... She’d explained law review invites were based on first year grades and a writing submission, but didn’t think he’d heard because, suddenly, he asked The Real Question - was she going to live in the dorm, and how would it affect their relationship if she did? He was obviously worried, but trying to be supportive, and, because she wanted to give them a real chance, she hadn’t taken his head off for asking. Days later, after much debate, a hot night in bed, an expensive box of chocolate, and an unexpected diamond and emerald necklace that made her cry, she agreed to continue living with him. So far, she hadn’t regretted it. He’d promised the matching bracelet if she made law review. Not that she needed, or wanted, his incentive.
Possessively taking his hand, she tugged him toward the entrance. “If I make law review,” she said firmly. “Don’t jinx me now, Logan.”
At the car, he took her bag and flung it in the back. “Where to?”
“Angel’s. My car?”
“Nope. I called Weevil on the way over. It won’t be ready ‘til noon tomorrow. Do you have a lot of studying to do tonight?”
“When don’t I have to study?” she groaned. “Actually, I got a lot done this afternoon, so I could probably spare a few hours. What’d you have in mind?”
“Dinner it is, then,” he proclaimed. Stomach growling, she smiled happily.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Without asking, the host at Siam Garden escorted them to ‘their’ booth in the far back corner of the dining room. Veronica slid across the scarred red vinyl, her bare legs registering the many cracks and tears in the ancient fabric. She pushed the menu away, unopened, suddenly recalling another dinner at their favorite Thai restaurant, one they hadn’t eaten.
As a result of their breakup between sophomore and junior year, it had taken Logan a long while to begin to trust Veronica again. During the summer before her senior year at Hearst, she had been more-or-less living with Logan, although she kept her dorm room when the term started. She’d enrolled in Bio for Dummies, the last of her three required science units. She’d always been good in science, but it had been three years since she’d had a lab class, so she’d begun the semester by leaning rather heavily on her lab partner, Steve. Having had her all to himself for the entire summer, Logan had had trouble transitioning to her varied comings and goings, and became convinced she was seeing someone in one of her classes. So, when she’d started staying late and giving vague excuses, he’d gone ballistic and came looking for her one day after class. The fight had begun in the Bio lab, but they’d finished it at Siam Garden.
“Stop it, Logan.” Eyes blazing, she jerked from his grasp as she slid into the booth. “I told you, we’re not doing anything. Steve’s my lab partner. That’s all.”
“Yeah, well, you two looked pretty cozy to me,” he huffed, nudging her with one hip and settling in beside her.
“We were sharing a microscope, you ass. You didn’t have to - ”
“- Grab you? Yes, I did. I didn’t like the way he was leaning into you.” Veronica shook her head, trying to decide whether it was okay to be a little flattered by Logan’s rampant jealousy, despite its occasionally ugly consequences.
She attempted to look stern. “You could’ve really hurt him.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t. Did you see the look on his face when I - ”
“- Hit him. Yes, I did. He totally freaked.” Muffling her smile, Veronica bit her lip as she flashed back to Logan storming the lab. He’d pulled her from the stool with one hand as he swung wildly with the other, catching the unsuspecting Steve across the bridge of his nose. She knew he probably hadn’t meant to hit the guy, but rather, wanted merely to scare him. Unfortunately, his errant punch connected with Steve’s face, damaging it and likely his ego too. Logan’s ego, on the other hand, was perfectly unharmed.
“I drove him to the hospital, Veronica, and paid the bill. What more do you want me to do?” Logan flexed his fist gingerly, opening and closing his fingers with a grimace.
Staring pointedly at his bruised right knuckles, she reached for him. “You should put some ice on that before it swells too much,” she replied in a slightly-more-sympathetic tone.
Logan plunged his hand into his water glass, ice cubes clenched in his fist as he pulled it out. The waiter, who’d arrived unannounced, opened his mouth to describe the daily specials. Before he could say anything, Logan ordered half the menu, added a bottle of wine, and dismissed him. Staring defiantly at Veronica, he dropped his hand under the table and slowly began dribbling ice water up her inner thigh.
Startled, she hissed, “What are you doing, Logan?”
He smirked. “Payback’s a bitch, Veronica. You know that.” She flinched and tried to move away, but he tightened his grip and inched the ice chip higher, whirling it over her skin as he went.
She giggled nervously until he brushed the edge of her thin cotton bikinis. “Logan,” she squeaked, her face flushed.
He turned, as if to comfort her. His other hand clamped on her knee like a vise, pinning her in place. “What, dear,” he murmured seductively while icy water dripped between her legs. He began to caress her, his elegant fingers damp and cold under her skirt.
“Your hand - ” she gasped.
“My hand is fine, Veronica, but thank you for your concern.”
Shivering, her pulse beginning to race, she wrapped her left hand around his wrist and squeezed. Logan’s eyes darkened, but his fingers continued their ministrations. Unnoticed, the server tentatively approached again, almost flinging the appetizers on the table before scurrying away. Humming softly, Logan bent down and kissed her exposed collarbone, the motion of his tongue imitating the movement of his hand. She arched involuntarily, straining to bring him closer.
“Logan?”
“Veronica.”
“I think ... we should ... I - ”
“You? We? What is it, Sugarpuss?”
“I don’t think ... I’m not hungry any more. Can we get our food to go?”
Chuckling wickedly, Logan summoned the waiter and asked for their food to be boxed and the check delivered, announcing the little woman felt suddenly dizzy. They barely made into the car before Veronica exacted her revenge, much to Logan’s enthusiastic, loud, delight.
Shaking her head to clear the memory, Veronica shoved the menu aside and faced him. “So, what did you want to tell me that you couldn’t say at home?”
“Huh?” Logan tried to look innocent. Failing miserably, he lowered his eyes.
“C’mon, Echolls. Spill. I know you brought me here so I couldn’t make a scene. What is it?”
“I had lunch with your dad today. I dropped off the Maccaluso file.”
“Uh hun. And?” She snapped her fingers impatiently. “I’m waiting here, Logan. Try to keep up, if you can?”
Taking a deep breath, Logan blurted, “For the past nine months, I’ve been taking criminal justice classes at the community college. And I’ve been working for your father for the last six months. I like it, and I want to get certified for a PI license so I can go into business with Keith. I’m taking martial arts classes so I can defend myself without hurting anyone. It was his idea.”
Stunned by the torrent of words, Veronica gaped for a moment. “Okaay. And you couldn’t tell me, why?” Logan stayed mum, waiting for her to digest it all. “You thought I’d be upset that you’ve decided to continue your education?”
“No, it’s not that - ”
“You’ve been working with my dad? My Dad! Without telling me? You and he have been hiding it from me for, how long? Six months?”
“Veronica - ”
“Don’t ‘veronica’ me, Logan Echolls. Looks like I’m not the one keeping secrets this time. I just want to know what brought about this miraculous metamorphosis. Who is she, Logan?”
“Hey! It’s not like that, Veronica. You didn’t think I was going to be a cholo playboy for the rest of my life, did you?”
“I don’t know, Logan. It’s worked pretty well for you up to now. And since when do you speak Spanglish? Been hanging at Angel’s again? What else have you been doing that I don’t know about? God, Logan, for someone who claims to hate secrets, you’ve sure done a good job keeping them from me.” She paused to breathe, but before he could speak, her tirade resumed. “So, what’s next, Logan? Am I gonna find out you’ve been sleeping with Angel’s hija, Carmelita, and dancing at the Seventh Veil on kareoke night? Or maybe you’ve taken up Indy car racing on the weekends when I’m busy studying?” She crossed her arms protectively over her chest and looked away, gazing at the ceramic, grass-skirted hula girl and lei-wearing uke boy salt-and-pepper set that decorated the table.
“Ronnie - ”
“- Don’t call me - ”
“- Just listen to me for a minute, will ya. Veronica.”
She humphed and twisted in her seat, bringing her knees up and wrapping her arms around them. He reached for her hand and she slapped him away. “Go ahead. Explain. You’ve got five minutes, then I’m outta here.”
Cautiously, Logan outlined his reasoning. After almost three years of therapy, he’d realized he needed to do something purposeful, maybe even meaningful, with his life. Like she was. But not as a doctor or lawyer. Those professions were too constricting, and he didn’t have the discipline. He wanted to help people, though, and went to Keith for guidance, figuring she’d ultimately approve of anything Keith suggested. Working for Keith had just happened. It wasn’t planned, but it made sense. He hadn’t wanted to tell her until he knew he would be successful.
Half-way through, Veronica’s face began to soften. She didn’t smile, but Logan could tell she got it when she uncoiled her arms and dropped one leg to the floor. She let him finish.
“Keith’s been bugging me to tell you for a month, but I needed to have a plan, not just ‘hey, Veronica, look at me, I’m taking classes and working out.’ So, now, I’ve got one.”
“Working with my father? Do you intend to continue working with him?”
“Yes, Ronnie. What’s wrong with that?” Her palm bounced tensely on the tabletop as she gnawed on her bottom lip.
“Logan, what happens if you - if we - what if we, and by that I mean, we, don’t make it? As a couple, I mean.”
Logan scooted into the juncture between her legs and took her hand. “I’m not going anywhere, Veronica. You’re going to have to kill me to get rid of me.”
“Don’t give me any ideas, Echolls.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Three hours later, Veronica was ensconced on the sofa, her notes and books scattered about the cushions and coffee table. Feet propped on the edge of the table, laptop balanced on her thighs, she mumbled incoherent fragments as she composed her final argument for Trial Ad. Logan watched from the doorway, thinking how adorable she was when she concentrated.
“Ronnie.”
“Uh huh.”
“I’m gonna go shoot some hoops with Wallace.”
“Wallace? Wallace Fennel? My BFF? I didn’t know he was in town?”
“He said he’s left messages, here and on your cell. Don’t you listen to your messages?” She grimaced guiltily. “Yeah, I think he did. I’ve been so busy, though. Tell him to call me later. Maybe we can get coffee. How long’s he in for?”
“I don’t know, Ronnie. I haven’t talked to him other than to make arrangements to crush him on the court.” Logan slapped the basketball between his hands. “I’ll tell him. You going to be up later?”
“I should be. I’m not going to be able to sleep. My argument’s tomorrow at one.”
“I know.” It was a big deal. Her first argument in a real courtroom, before a panel of real-live judges, along with any friends and family who wanted to attend. He knew she was scared and anxious, and had been so for weeks. He waited for her to say something, to invite him again or remind him to come, but when she resumed typing without further comment, he shrugged, said goodbye, and left.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dripping sweat, down by three, Logan heaved the ball over Wallace’s outstretched arms and into the basket. “Winner by two, right?” he gasped, pounding the ball.
“Hold up there, white boy. What’cha tryin’ to do, brotha? You must think you’re Rick Barry tonight.” Although Wallace’s face glistened under the lights, he was nowhere near as fatigued, or as sweaty, as Logan.
“Rick who?”
Wallace shook his head disgustedly. “Yeah, just what I thought. You can’t even really talk the talk, much less walk the walk. You just got lucky tonight, huh?”
Logan smiled enigmatically. “Told you I’ve been working out.”
“Yeah, well. You’re right, your stamina’s gettin’ better, but look at you now, suckin’ air. You still can’t compete with the greatness that is Wallace Fennel.” He bent, hands on knees, and swiped at the ball. “Okay, boy. C’mon. Bring it - if you think you can.” Dropping the ball, Logan raised his palms in surrender.
“Nah, that’s okay. Wouldn’t want to take you down on your first night in town. Rematch tomorrow?”
“‘S aight by me. You sure your missus gonna let you out of the house again?” Laughing, Wallace picked up the ball. Just then, Logan’s cell trilled the theme from Secret Agent Man.
“Hey, I gotta get that. It’s Keith.” Wallace nodded knowingly. He’d kept abreast of Logan’s activities at Mars Investigations through his mother, and already knew about the case.
Logan flipped open his cell. “Hey, Keith, what’s up?”
“Logan. Where are you? Is Veronica with you?”
“No, she’s at home, rewriting her argument for the twenty-hundredth time. I’m at the park, shooting hoops with Mr. Fennel. I’m about to kick his - ”
“She’s home alone? You’re sure she’s still at home? She hasn’t left to come to the office for anything?”
“Yeah, Keith, I’m pretty sure she wasn’t planning on going anywhere tonight. Why? What’s wrong? Did something happen, ‘cause you’re scaring me. Are you alright?”
“Yes, something has happened, but I’m fine. Look, I need you to get over here. There’s something you’ve got to see.”
“What about Veronica? I don’t want her to be alone, especially if there’s trouble. Is it the Macca - ”
“Yes, Logan, it is. But I don’t want to talk about it on the phone. Have Wallace make up an excuse to stay with her ‘til you get home. Tell him - ”
“It shouldn’t be a problem, Keith.” Without hearing Keith’s side of the conversation, Wallace was at Logan’s side, alert and wide-eyed, nodding vigorously. “He hasn’t seen her yet, and it’s not like he needs an excuse to hang with his BFF.”
“Okay. Good. I don’t want her knowing about this just yet.”
“I’ll be there in five, Keith.”
“Thanks, Logan.” The line went dead. Absently running his hand through his damp, matted hair, Logan stared vacantly for a sec, then snapped his head toward Wallace.
“I don’t know how much of that you heard - ”
“Yeah, I heard enough. Veronica’s in trouble. I’m on the way.”
“No, actually, I don’t think Veronica’s in trouble, at least not yet, but something happened at the office, and Keith wants me there. Can you hang with Vee ‘til I get home?”
Wallace slapped Logan’s shoulder. “Sure thing, big guy. You know I’ll take care a’ your girl, she’s my BFF. Don’t even think about it. Go on, now. I’m gone.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As he pulled into the driveway, Wallace could see Veronica, backlit by lamp light, silhouetted in the massive picture window. He watched for a moment, to see if she’d detected his arrival, but she continued banging on her keyboard, oblivious to the world outside her cozy, cloistered home. Damn, she’s losing her touch, he thought worriedly. The Veronica he’d left behind would’ve noticed him driving up. Hell, his Veronica would have known he was there as soon as he turned the corner. He slammed the car door and jogged up the walk. As he raised his hand to knock, the door swung open.
“Wallace,” she grinned, arms wide. “I can’t believe you’re here. It’s so good to see you.” It took him a moment to react, but quickly enough, he enveloped Veronica in a huge hug.
“Good to see you too, Vee.” He tried to play it off as if he hadn’t been surprised when she was at the door.
“What?” She pulled back to look at his face. “You think I didn’t hear you pull up? C’mon, Wallace. I thought you knew me better than that.”
“It’s just ... it’s good to see you, Veronica Mars.”
“You too, Wallace Fennel. Are you coming in? Where’s Logan?” She peered over his shoulder into the dusky twilight.
Startled, Wallace remembered that Veronica would have known he’d been with Logan. But Logan wasn’t with him now. He was going to have to come up with a good lie, and fast.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Banging heedlessly up the stairs, his key in hand, Logan burst through the unlocked door of Mars Investigations, expecting who-knows-what. He found Keith, still as a statue and just as silent, sitting at Veronica’s desk, staring at an image on the screen. “Keith, are you okay?”
“No, I’m not. I mean, yes, I’m physically unharmed, but I’m not okay.” He turned the laptop so Logan could see it. It was an e-mail attachment, a photograph of Veronica’s LeBaron. A relatively new photograph, Logan could tell, because the fender work he’d paid for less than three months ago was clearly visible. Someone had photoshopped the picture so that the car appeared to be sinking into a pile of goo. Slick, oily goo. With Veronica still in the LeBaron. The e-mail read: “It would be a shame if your daughter, Veronica, got herself into something she couldn’t get out of. Consider yourself warned.”
Logan groaned, then swore. “Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I knew we should’ve kept her out of it. Keith? Mr. Mars?” As he raised his face to Logan, Keith’s normally warm, bright eyes were dull and lifeless. He seemed to have aged immeasurably in the past six hours.
“What, Logan?”
Logan rubbed his palms against his eyes, then dragged his hands down his face. “What’re we gonna do,” he demanded. “They’re after Veronica.”
~~~~~~~~~ End chapter 2 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~