Overdue [1/1]
Title: Overdue [1/1]
Pairing: Logan/Veronica
Rating: PG
Summary: Somehow he always knew they would end up here. Six years of Logan and Veronica’s relationship, starting when they first met.
Spoilers: General season 1
Birthday fic for
xanya
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He was twelve when he first saw Veronica Mars.
She was in a lime green soccer uniform, and his prepubescent hormones couldn’t get over the way her long blonde hair shone as it swept over her shoulders, like some ridiculous shampoo commercial his mother had filmed once to kick-start her lagging career.
It was only later he found out she was the Sheriff’s daughter, and that Duncan had a crush on her. She was racing across the field, slender legs carrying her gracefully, and she was grinning widely at some other girl as her hands sprung out, and they caught each other before they collided. Tufts of loose earth kicked up under their heels, and they seemed immersed in their own world, happy to ignore the game they should have been playing, the other uniformed girls moving around them.
Duncan was supposed to be meeting him at the edge of the track so they could start their introductory trek around Neptune, and he was at least fifteen minutes late. His fingers curled around the wire fence as he observed the two girls at a distance, momentarily distracted enough to forget his feelings of impatience.
His gaze drifted over to the other girl, and he realised it was Duncan’s sister, Lilly, who had grown up since he last saw her.
He forgot all about Veronica.
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He was fourteen when he first found himself protecting Veronica Mars.
The Kanes had taken Lilly and Duncan to their Napa house for a few weeks, and the 0’9ers were having a random party to commemorate the end of summer, and an initiation of sorts for the soon-to-be new freshmen, the ones who mattered, anyway.
It was the first time she had been to a party without Lilly, and it was the first time she was drunk. He found her in the backyard, weaving her way around the side of the poolhouse, bracing her hand clumsily against the wall. They hadn’t arrived together, and he hadn’t expected her to show up with the other girls, not without Lilly at her side. He got the distinct impression she was trying to prove something to herself, because sweet, docile Veronica wasn’t the type to get drunk by herself, and she was too innocent to realise how dangerous it was, with all of the older kids around.
Lilly was always very protective of Veronica, even if she never said so, and without her around Logan figured he should take up the job. He manoeuvred around the edge of the pool, dodging a pair of sophomores pseudo-wrestling by the deep end, and Veronica blinked over at him as he approached. She glanced down at his hand before automatically taking it when he offered it to her. He barely had time to marvel at the soft warmth of her skin before she staggered into him, clutching the front of his t-shirt to regain her balance.
The soft, vanilla fragrance of her hair tickled his nose, and she tilted her head to look up at him, wincing slightly. “I don’t feel so good, Logan,” she mumbled.
He sighed, shaking his head. He already towered over her, even at fourteen, and she always seemed so much smaller to him than Lilly, even though they were really the same height.
“Come on, we’ll walk back to your house, okay? Think you can make it?”
She nodded emphatically, closing her eyes tightly against the dizziness she was feeling. “Sure.”
She threw up halfway there, and he held her hair back from her face, thinking she should have someone else there for this, someone other than her best friend’s boyfriend. Someone like Duncan, even if the pansy-ass never got up the courage to ask her out.
He was half-carrying her by the time they made it to her back door, and he shushed her when she nearly staggered into the fern adorning the back porch, sure as hell not about to get busted by the local Sheriff.
Her forehead briefly grazed his neck as she gripped his shoulder and he guided her quietly into her room, lowering her gently to her bed. He tugged off her shoes, pulling the covers up over her, hoping her parents wouldn’t detect the scent of alcohol in the room in the morning. He watched her as she curled on her side, resting her palm innocently by her face on the pillow.
He backed out the door, and let himself out, wondering if it was still worth going back to the party.
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He was sixteen when he started hating Veronica Mars.
He felt like he was drowning when Lilly died, and it was easier to blame her for his pain. She always had to be so God damn involved, even when it was none of her business, and of course she told Lilly about the stupid thing with Yolanda. Of course things had to be different after that.
Of course they were really over.
What really killed him was that he was ready to say goodbye to her, to see her live her life and move on with other guys because she didn’t love him the same way he loved her, and then she had to go and die. And he could convince himself that things might not have been so different after all. They could have salvaged things. Their relationship was always an emotional rollercoaster of ups and downs and that was what made it so special. They would still be together.
They would still be together if Lilly wasn’t dead.
Then Veronica’s father started making his accusations, and hating her came naturally. For standing by her father and ruining the last fragments of normality they had. For destroying the Kanes and Duncan, for destroying Logan.
He thought she of all people would understand, but she was willing to turn her back on them to stand by her father. To protect the man who had single-handedly turned their world on its axis, in all the ways that mattered. So he turned his back on her. There was nothing else he could do.
Except make her life half as bad as his was.
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He was seventeen when he first kissed Veronica Mars.
She kissed him first, but he didn’t push her away like everyone would have expected him to. His world was falling apart around him, and this time she was there. She was the only one to understand. Again.
He’d never put so much effort into hating someone before, and he was tired of it. So very tired of making himself feel something that just wasn’t there any more.
Her petite body curved into his, and he wrapped his arms around her waist, struck by her unique taste, and the intermingled fear and desperation and longing that kept them clinging to each other. She didn’t smell like vanilla anymore, that scent was gone forever with the childhood memory of her he had permanently imprinted in his mind. With Lilly. This time she smelt like marshmallows and promises, and it was fitting somehow, that she wasn’t quite as steely and tough as she to think she was.
When they both drew back she stared up at him for the longest time, green eyes wavering with confusion and a faint glimmer of vulnerability, like she knew he could break her. He stared back, drawn in by it all, the ridiculous inevitability of the moment. Then he saw the look in her eye shift to something else, and he dropped his hands from her waist, swallowing when she spun abruptly and started down the stairs of the Camelot.
She paused at the door to the LeBaron, car keys clutched tightly in her hand, eyes fixing intensely on his. He wondered if she was thinking the inordinate amount of things he was thinking in that moment; he wondered if she was thinking of Lilly.
She climbed into her car, and he left his hands braced on the edge of the banister, staring after her as she drove away.
Somehow he always knew they would end up here.
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He was seventeen when he fell in love with Veronica Mars.
At first it was easy to pretend he was with her because was becoming Lilly, version 2.0, but he knew that wasn’t it at all. Veronica wasn’t Lilly. Veronica was all hard edges and jaded cynicism on the outside, and the same, innocent, idealistic girl he had first known on the inside.
He could forget himself around her. He hadn’t had that feeling in a long time, hadn’t felt like he could shut out the world and everyone in it because he had all he needed right with him.
He wanted to say to her he didn’t care what everyone else thought, that they could tell everyone they were doing… whatever it was they were doing. But he knew they would poison it with their stupid hatred and lies, hatred that none of them had any right to feel, not really. And he didn’t want that. He wanted to pretend none of them existed, that the two of them could surround themselves in their own private, safe cocoon, if only for a little while longer.
They were lying in the backseat of her LeBaron, parked on the edge of the beach near her house, with the roof pulled down and a blanket of stars lighting the sky above them. Puffs of cold air made indistinct shapes as they breathed into the sky, and Veronica silently huddled closer to him, enveloping his side with warmth. She shoved her hands in her pockets and nestled her head against his, letting her soft blonde hair tickle his cheek.
Logan was silent, contemplating the sky with her, the maze of stars and unidentifiable patterns. Veronica shifted slightly, and her leather seat creaked ominously with her movements.
Logan smirked. “The trusty old LeBaron isn’t about to cave in on itself, is it?”
She thwacked him lightly on the arm, but he heard the grin in her voice. “Put it up against your XTerra any day of the week,” she declared confidently.
He was amused, rising to the challenge. “I guess we’ll have to test out the backseat a bit more then,” he retorted. “See how they compare.”
She laughed. He loved the sound of her laugh, the rare thrill of pleasure it gave him. “I bet it’s seen its fair share of action.”
“Most of my conquests aren’t back-seat kind of girls.”
She lifted her head, blinking at him with something resembling amusement. “Oh yeah? What kind of girls are they then? Back-of-a-movie-theatre type girls?”
“Well see, I’d tell you, but then I think I would probably ruin the last remaining shards of your innocence, Miss Mars, and we just can’t have that.”
She scoffed, shuffling down again. “Preserving my innocence, Logan?” she asked playfully. “I would have thought that was the last thing you wanted to do.”
The smirk still tugged at his lips, but the significance of her words drifted over him, and he wondered if she thought that was all that this was.
“I have much bigger plans than that,” he said softly.
Veronica quietened, and he knew she heard the seriousness in his voice. He inwardly winced at himself, feeling awkwardness start to invade the playfulness of their banter. He wondered if he had spoiled things.
Then Veronica moved her head again, lowering it softly to his shoulder. He felt her relax against him, fingers coiling carefully around the arm of his jacket, as if she could permanently mould herself to his side. He was more than fine with that. He was fine if she wanted to stay there forever.
She was the only thing that had ever made sense.
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fin