Title: ...and a happy new year!
Fandom: Veronica Mars
Characters/Pairings: Logan, Veronica, Weevil; an OC just for fun.
Rating: R for cursing (as if any of them really would be that clean in real life.)
Spoilers: Goes very AU from near the end of One Angry Veronica.
Summary: What happens when three of Neptune's finest spend New Year's Eve in a grocery store?
Word Count: 3200 or so.
Disclaimer: Not associated with Rob Thomas, The CW. I'm just borrowing them. No copyright infringement intended.
Notes: Betaed by the lovely
starxd_sparrow,
gypsy_sally and
marshmallow for various parts. At this point, all mistakes are mine. Written for
flinkkamingo3 for the 2008
vm_santa. I hope this hits on all of those requests.
The parking lot was full enough for a late night snack. At least twenty people were inside, doing late night shopping, unaware of who was ambling into the store at that moment.
To her credit, she was hungry, and grocery stores, she remembered, were excellent places to find food waiting in the wings.
Dusting off the sides of her jeans and shirt, she carefully walked towards the store, trying to blend in with the rest of the customers.
-*-
In another sign that his life was an utter and total waste, Logan wandered the aisles at the Vons in Neptune, aimlessly looking for some food that wasn’t from the kitchen of the Neptune Grand for his dinner. Of course, it had to be something that was already made, unless he wanted to find the Balboa County Fire Department dispatched to his room later. It was a minor annoyance, he realized, but the fact remained that another visit from the County officials would be looked down on by the management.
In point of fact, his new home had lost much of the appeal it held when Duncan had offered the extra room two months prior. Instead of bringing the two of them closer together-Veronica’s presence excluded - it only meant that they ignored each other all day long instead of just at school. The friendship that had once defined Logan’s life in Neptune had fallen apart, just like the rest of his life.
His thoughts of potentially happier days overtook his initial goal for the evening jaunt, but as soon as he’d had enough of the dismal look at Neptune in 2004 and most of 2005, he picked up the pace and continued to look around the store for something to eat.
As he moved from the junk food to the baking section-which he had no reason to walk past, but he had time to kill-he spotted Veronica, fresh from her jury experience, pushing her cart towards him.
“No need for a clean-up on this aisle,” he commented dryly as he looked over the shopping cart of ingredients inside.
“Very funny, Logan,” she retorted. “Why are you out here tonight? You don’t need eat anything that doesn’t come served on a silver platter last I checked.”
“Despite popular opinion, I do leave the room outside of class. Besides, I decided it was good to see how the lowly live right now.” He grabbed at a box of sugar from her cart, examining the package intently.
“Leave it alone,” she snipped. “Some of us have things to do later tonight.”
“But Duncan’s off in Sun Valley. Who could you do tonight? Wait, I know: Weevil’s out ruining the streets with his gang.”
She pushed the cart into his torso, hoping he’d get out of her way. “Hardy hardy har. What’s your interest in Weevil anyway?”
“I aim to please, remember,” he responded, ignoring the question she had posed to him.
“Of course you do. That’s why you’re alone on New Year’s Eve, not on Dick’s boat with your fellow monkeys, leaving you to think of your pending trial set to start in a few weeks or the local criminal element out for your blood.”
“Dick’s party is always a letdown. I’m saving myself from the hell of being on that ship all night,” he said. “Plus, the ankle monitor doesn’t let me leave the city limits. So, no boat for me,” he finished with a flourish.
“But being around me is better? Your standards have clearly changed with that ankle monitor.”
Unable to come up with anything to that jab, he gave her a cool smile. “Then back to work you go,” he exhaled, and moved slightly to the side to let her pass.
“Thank you,” she curtly replied, pushing her cart into the edge of his torso. By the time she cleared him, she'd forgotten the entire conversation had ever occurred and focused her attention on the shopping list crumpled in her hand.
Logan left out a muffled groan at the pain the cart had caused.
He heard the cart stop before anything else. “What was that?” she asked innocently, though he knew she only had one reason for stopping.
“Nothing. I’m just going to look in the frozen food aisle for some ice cream to go with my chips and queso. I was salivating at the thought of what flavor I might have tonight,” he finished, before moving towards the other part of the store.
Slowly walking away from his ex-girlfriend, Logan failed to notice the shabby appearance of one of the other customers in the store, eagerly looking around the aisles for something to eat.
-*-
She made quick work of the poor worker who had to shuffle the metal carts around the parking lot, but she was still hungry, and quickly spotted a group of people standing by the exits. Her urge for more food overcame her, and she walked towards everyone in her line of sight.
A few of them were too flabby for her taste, but she was used to making due with what was around. It didn’t help to be a picky eater when forced into her current condition.
She tried to hide any of the stray pieces she hadn’t eaten, so as to not alert any of the remaining people she might enjoy later, and luckily the stray hand sitting by the cigarettes and lottery machine went unnoticed as she continued to look around for more food.
-*-
The back of the store was always good for looking for free shit - The Reaper had taught him that.
Only, unlike every other time he’d been around the back of the grocery store, there was nothing to grab and take back for the family for New Year’s or for the boys to pass the time until midnight rang.
He sighed heavily before trying to jimmy his way into the back of the store, hoping something in the storeroom would brighten the holiday spirit.
-*-
Having fully exhausted the options for his dessert that night, Logan finally trudged toward the checkout stands, one sad lonely pint of Phish Food in his hand to match the sad bag of broken tortilla chips and jar of queso dip.
As he looked around each of the stands, he noticed no one was standing by any of the registers. Thoroughly confused at the concept of all the money being left unattended, he turned left and walked over towards the rest of the store, hoping to find someone to help him check out.
With each passing aisle he looked down, however, he failed to see anyone. The store, it appeared, had emptied out while he was choosing between Phish Food and Chocolate Fudge Brownie, including his obnoxious ex-girlfriend.
When he finally reached the last aisle before the produce section, he spotted his ex, still pushing her now fuller cart towards him.
“Better stop now, Mars. No one at the registers.”
“What?” she asked indignantly, not in the mood to deal with him again.
“I. Said. There’s. No. One. There,” he replied, with a punctuated tap of his sneaker against the linoleum just to be a pain in the ass.
“That’s bullshit, Logan. There has to be someone here. The store isn’t scheduled to close for another hour,” she replied while looking at her watch.
“You think I’m that dumb? I walked to the registers and saw them empty.”
“And you didn’t think it odd?”
“What do you think I’m doing over here near those things,” he said while pointing to the fruits and vegetables.
“Being a pain in my ass, as always,” she shot back, while moving closer to him at the end of aisle.
“Not so much,” he said thoughtfully before continuing. “I just want my chips and queso before my ice cream melts in my hands and not in my mouth.”
“Fine,” she huffed. “Let’s try to figure this out together.”
“You sure you want to be that close to me when the ball drops?”
“We’ll be out of here before that happens,” she protested, avoiding his gaze as they walked.
He looked her over, impressed at her determination. “Whatever you say, Mars.”
“Drop the food,” she demanded.
“Why?” he asked.
“Because something is rotten in Neptune. You know no one leaves money voluntarily, and a robber would have hunted down everyone in the store. Which leaves something else.” She stopped her train of though, trying to put the next piece of the puzzle together. “Haven’t you watched every horror movie in existence? You need to be prepared for whatever is there,” she retorted while giving him a death glare.
“You know I’ve seen enough, but none of them take place in a grocery store.”
She stood there for a moment, unsure of what to say after. When she’d still managed no reply a minute later, he grabbed her arm.
“Back to the knives,” he urged.
“Surprise, Logan, we need the element of surprise,” she whispered.
“Whatever, it’s not like whatever is in here can kill us.”
“And you know that how?”
“Those aforementioned horror movies. They like to scare first, then kill. Not the other way around.”
“So deep.”
“Just ask every horror fan,” he defended.
“Whatever,” she said dismissively.
As he continued to walk her towards that aisle for supplies, a loud crash came from the back of the store.
“What the fuck is that?” he asked.
“I’m supposed to know, how?” she responded.
“Fair point,” he muttered.
“This is going to be horrible,” she mumbled, hoping it was inaudible to him.
He looked around at her briefly before he continued to quietly walk.
-*-
He needed to learn a few tricks from Veronica, of that he was sure. She’d never have created that much noise while trying to get a picture for a case.
Cursing under his breath, Weevil moved through the storeroom, still unimpressed by the lack of open boxes for him to purloin for his New Year’s Eve plans with the kids and the crew.
-*-
“Are we set now?” he asked, holding a large carving knife in his hand.
“What happened to that vast knowledge of horror movies?”
“It all went out the window once we found our weapons. We’re both fucked since neither of us is a virgin, so we might as well hope we can slash and run.”
“Your confidence astounds me, Logan.”
“It’s my goal, remember,” he shot back, still holding onto the knife for dear life and ready to attack anything that came in his sight.
“I feel so safe,” she said sardonically.
“If I hadn’t decided to slum it tonight, you’d be alone, just think of that.”
“I’d die happier, that’s for sure.”
“Who said we’re dying tonight?”
“No one, but I don’t see this ending well. We don’t know what the hell is in the store, and I haven’t seen anyone in the last hour.”
“Don’t forget that mysterious noise from earlier,” he stated.
“I was trying to forget that, Logan.” She batted at his forearm to prove the point that she was just as scared as he was.
“Grab something, too, will ya?” he added back. Quickly, she reached for a cookie sheet and a rolling pin, hoping that they would help with something when they found whoever had left the store almost completely empty.
Together, they cautiously moved through the rest of the store, forgetting the food they had wanted to take home, and instead trying to focus on the two events messing with their New Year’s Eve.
Moving back towards the registers, Veronica let out scream as she saw a fat torso squirting blood across the floor.
Logan clapped his hand over her mouth. “Shit,” he muttered.
-*-
She still smelled food around the store. Not that she was hungry much now, but her brother had told her to never leave anyone around who might suspect what she was. Complicated, she knew, but necessary.
Determined to find whoever was still left, she continued to search around the store in earnest. A few others followed behind her, unsure of what they needed to do.
Nothing like a night of the blind leading the blind, she mused.
-*-
“I think we can rule out vampires and werewolves,” he said definitively, still cautiously looking around the aisle.
“How is that?” she wondered
“Vampires would leave the corpses behind,” he trailed off.
“And you know that how?”
“Buffy, duh? Didn’t you watch?” he questioned.
“No, I didn’t. None of those guys ever did anything for me,” she replied, still looking around the small space they occupied.
“I would think that Angel would remind you of the Donut,” he pressed.
“Not right now, Logan. More important things,” she chastised.
“Fine, later. But yeah, it’s not either of those. Which leaves zombies.”
“Zombies!?”
“If they’re hungry enough, they won’t leave anything of anyone behind. They don’t just eat brains you know. That, or the leftover bits turn into another zombie, which means we need to be worried about that torso from over there.”
“And here I was thinking that they would just want my brain,” she sang. “Silly me.”
“We could try to throw them off with some sweetbreads. This place has them, right?”
“You think a grocery store is going to carry them? This is the place of the masses.”
“Shit,” he mumbled. “We’re in trouble then.”
“Like I didn’t know that before, being forced to spend my New Year’s Eve with you.”
“At least I know what we’re dealing with right now.”
“And it won’t do us any good, since you don’t know how to kill a zombie,” she snidely replied.
“That’s not true. They’re slow. We just have to distract them and then run fast as we can out of the store.”
“That,” she replied indignantly, “is the stupidest idea I’ve heard all night in here with you.”
“Thanks, Veronica. But at least I’m thinking. You’ve done nothing but snip at me all night,” he bit back.
“Well, if I weren’t stuck with you when I could be baking, I wouldn’t be so annoyed.”
“And your failure to get your supplies before tonight is my fault, too. Just like everything that I ever did with you,” he barked back at her.
“Get over yourself, Logan,” she finished with a huff, before trying to direct her attention back at whatever was in the store.
He let out an exasperated sigh before slowly moving towards the front of the store again. Arguing with his ex was not what he wanted to do right now, he was certain.
-*-
The discovery of a large mangled box full of rum put him in an excellent mood. Stuffing the fifths in his pockets feverishly, Weevil carefully walked back out of the back of the store, satisfied with the haul he had finally found.
-*-
She wasn’t sure how she kept missing the last two people alive in the store, but they kept evading her. Looking behind her, she hoped that the newbies wouldn’t think her a dumb one for still not finding them.
Sniffing the air, she knew that they were close. Time to get everything settled before heading towards the mountains for the next day.
As the group she was leading turned the last corner, they all stopped and stared at the pair crouched low, one wielding a sharp knife and other a rolling pin and cookie sheet.
The thud of a wooden pin to her arm caused her to grunt before she watched as the pair ran towards the exit.
Her followers started to grab for Logan and Veronica, but Logan’s hold on the knife helped as he slashed his way at the others.
The first to attack struggled to stand up, still ready for a fight. Veronica took the cookie sheet and tried to use it as a knife to slice off the zombie’s head. As soon as Veronica missed, the zombie pushed forward and started to paw at Veronica’s forearm.
Logan turned from the group just as the other girl tried to eat Veronica. His knife went quickly into her skull, before she fell down in a heap.
Grunting at the rest of them, Logan turned around and continued to jab at each of them, taking off body parts as he went.
-*-
Out of breath, but still wired on adrenaline, Logan looked at his ex-girlfriend in confusion. Her hand was still gripping his arm for dear life after they finally managed to dispatch the small cadre of zombies.
“We’re out, Veronica. Nothing else to worry about. You get in your car, I’ll get in mine and we can’t forget that anything ever happened.” He began to walk to the XTerra, good to his word.
She pondered his words for a moment. “I guess, but Dad’s going to ask questions about what took so long.”
“Make some shit up - you do that for a living, right?”
“Enough, Logan. Get over it,” she spat back.
“What?” he asked innocently. “That wasn’t anything other than the truth.”
“Just stop for once, please,” she continued. After a beat, she added, “Thanks.”
“What was that?” he asked.
“I said thanks. For helping get me out.”
Logan examined his watch. “I don’t believe it. You said something nice to me, and well, it’s officially 2006.”
She checked her watch for confirmation. “You’re right. Happy New Year, Logan,” she replied before pressing her lips against his cheek.
“Whatever,” he replied.
“Just take the compliment.”
“Fine, thanks. Now, back to my fortress of solitude for some food I didn’t want to eat in the first place.”
She laughed, walking towards her car, while he continued to stand where he’d stopped, feet from his car.
She stopped before entering her car. “Do we need to clean up this place? Aren’t those parts, like, going to regenerate or something?”
“Leave it to me,” he said dryly.
-*-
Unsure of what he had just seen, Weevil rubbed his eyes to make sure it wasn’t a figment of his imagination.
Mars and Echolls didn’t have their hands ready to rip each other to shreds. Some seriously fucked up shit must have happened in the store for that to happen, he was sure.
Of course, it meant he was going to press Logan for details as soon as they had a talk about what went on with his boys.
-*-
As soon as he’d pulled out of the parking lot, Logan made an illegal U-turn and went back to store. Quickly pulling out his phone, he dialed one number, hoping that the person on the other end was around.
“What?” the voice spat at Logan.
“I need a favor. Meet me at the Vons on Jefferson. Bring some gas.”
“What the fuck for?”
“Damage control,” was all Logan said as a reply.
He waited in the parking lot until a beat up Impala pulled in.
“Took you long enough,” Logan spat.
“I had to get the gas, whitey,” Weevil replied.
“Whatever, let’s get started. “
“Why are we torching this place?”
“Because some fucked up shit went down.”
“You’re talking about you and Mars sharing a kiss?” Weevil asked, reaching for a gas can.
“What the hell are you talkin’ about?”
“I was in the back, earlier, looking for shit. I came out with my loot and saw Mars plant one on you.”
“No, that’s not why we’re burning this place up. Something else, and don’t ask what, as I doubt you’ll believe it.”
“Whatever, dude. Here’s your can,” Weevil replied, pointing at the can on the floor.
--
fin.