VM Fic: "Second Hand News" [1/1]
Title: "Second Hand News"
Fandom: Veronica Mars
Spoilers: Yes! For the season two finale. If you haven't seen it yet, do not read this. dutch38, this means you. I know I used a Fleetwood Mac song for the title, but you're still not allowed to read it.
Word Count: 1024
Rating: R for language only
Author's Note: Geez, I haven't been inspired to write a post-ep fic since... uh, The West Wing episode 2x15? This is for austin360, who's always trying to get me to write her LoVe post-eps. Although I guess this is really more of a missing scene than a post-ep, but whatever.
Second Hand News
So Keith Mars was alive after all. Which meant maybe, for once, everything was going to be all right.
Logan slipped quietly out of Veronica's apartment and squinted into the glaring sunlight of a brand new Neptune day.
Last night the two of them had been caught in the tide. The waves crashing over their heads, dragging them slowly but irrevocably out to sea. It had taken all the strength he had just to hold onto Veronica, to keep her from being pulled under those dark churning waters.
But then they'd heard Keith's voice this morning and suddenly the ground underneath them had felt solid again, and the cold waters had receded just as suddenly as they'd first appeared.
Everything was going to be all right. He could feel it. Veronica was safe, her father was okay, and Logan--well, Logan knew what he wanted now and he had this funny idea that he might even be able to hold onto it this time.
It wasn't until he'd gotten down to the parking lot and into his car that he realized he didn't have anywhere to go.
The hotel suite was still there, of course, but he couldn't bring himself to go back there. It was bad enough with his dad in the same building, but after Beav--Cassidy-- After last night, he just couldn't be there anymore. He was going to have to find a new place to live.
He sat in the car, wondering what to do next, and noticed his cell phone lying between the seats; he must have left it in the car last night. There was a voice mail--lots of voice mails, all from Trina. He considered ignoring them but somehow his fingers had already dialed his mailbox code and what else did he have to do anyway but listen to Trina's latest tragedy?
"Logan, where the hell are you? Oh my god, have you seen the news? Dad's dead, Logan. Someone shot him in his hotel--"
He cut off the message before the numbness that was coursing through his veins radiated to his hands and he lost the ability to work the buttons on the phone.
Well, that was one way to solve that problem, he thought. And then he started to laugh.
* * *
Veronica watched her dad cooking the bacon Logan had left on the stove. There was a ridiculous, goofy grin plastered on her face and she felt like her heart was going to burst right through her chest. Everything was okay. Everything was going to be okay.
My dad's alive. She couldn't stop repeating the thought over and over in her head, like some kind of Buddhist mantra. My dad's alive. My dad's alive. Each repetition brought an increased sense of peace and well-being.
"Would you mind turning on the TV, honey?" her dad asked. "I'm curious what they're saying about the Casablancas kid."
"Sure," said Veronica, moving for the remote. "Poor Dick. I mean, he was... well, kind of a dick, but Cassidy was his brother." My dad's alive, she thought happily, not really caring that much about Dick after all.
She flipped through the channels, searching for news. She nearly sailed past CNN, figuring the Neptune bus bomber probably wouldn't get much national coverage, when a glimpse of the name "Echolls" on the crawl at the bottom of the screen froze her blood in her veins.
--shot dead in his hotel room only days after his acquittal on murder charges--
"Oh my god," she breathed.
"What's wrong?" said Keith, abandoning the bacon and moving to her side.
"Someone murdered Aaron Echolls last night."
"Huh," he said. "That's an interesting development."
"Logan. Oh my god, Logan." She fumbled with her phone, heart thudding in her chest as her clumsy fingers pressed the numbers she knew by heart.
* * *
Logan was laughing so hard he didn't even hear the phone when it rang. He was still clutching it in his hand, though, so he felt it, a rattling tremor that startled him out of his hysteria. For a brief moment he was seized with the impulse to throw the thing out the window, and imagined the little pieces of plastic shattering as they collided with the asphalt.
Then he saw Veronica's name glowing on the display.
"Hey," he said. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine." Her voice was cool and soothing, like the washcloths his mother would press against his forehead when he was feverish. "I'm great, but Logan, your father--"
"I know," he said, cutting her off before she could actually say the words out loud. "Trina left me a message." He felt the laughter threatening to well up in him again.
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah, why wouldn't I be? I'm better than okay. I'm super-fucking-califragilisticexpiali--whatever."
"Where are you?"
"In my car." He hunched over so that his forehead was pressed against the top of the steering wheel and closed his eyes.
"Come back."
"No, you and your dad--"
"My dad's fine, Logan, yours..."
"Isn't," he supplied for her. "Couldn't you just eat the irony with a spoon? It's pretty funny when you think about it."
"It really isn't."
"Yeah, maybe not." He imagined the frown that would be on her face; he could almost trace the crinkles around her mouth by heart. "I'm really glad your dad's okay, Veronica. I didn't say anything before, but--"
"I know."
A shadow fell across him and then the car door opened and she was standing next to him. There was sunlight caught in her hair, so bright it made his eyes hurt. He wrapped his arms around her and pressed his face into the brightness of her hair and she held him and said, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."
Which was exactly what he'd said to her not even ten minutes ago. Funny how the world could turn itself upside down in such a short time. He felt himself starting to laugh again. The waves were lapping at his ankles, cold water that seeped into his bones, and the sand was collapsing under his feet, sucking him down.
"Come back inside," she said.
He nodded mutely, and let her take his hand and lead him to the shore.
The End
Fandom: Veronica Mars
Spoilers: Yes! For the season two finale. If you haven't seen it yet, do not read this. dutch38, this means you. I know I used a Fleetwood Mac song for the title, but you're still not allowed to read it.
Word Count: 1024
Rating: R for language only
Author's Note: Geez, I haven't been inspired to write a post-ep fic since... uh, The West Wing episode 2x15? This is for austin360, who's always trying to get me to write her LoVe post-eps. Although I guess this is really more of a missing scene than a post-ep, but whatever.
Second Hand News
So Keith Mars was alive after all. Which meant maybe, for once, everything was going to be all right.
Logan slipped quietly out of Veronica's apartment and squinted into the glaring sunlight of a brand new Neptune day.
Last night the two of them had been caught in the tide. The waves crashing over their heads, dragging them slowly but irrevocably out to sea. It had taken all the strength he had just to hold onto Veronica, to keep her from being pulled under those dark churning waters.
But then they'd heard Keith's voice this morning and suddenly the ground underneath them had felt solid again, and the cold waters had receded just as suddenly as they'd first appeared.
Everything was going to be all right. He could feel it. Veronica was safe, her father was okay, and Logan--well, Logan knew what he wanted now and he had this funny idea that he might even be able to hold onto it this time.
It wasn't until he'd gotten down to the parking lot and into his car that he realized he didn't have anywhere to go.
The hotel suite was still there, of course, but he couldn't bring himself to go back there. It was bad enough with his dad in the same building, but after Beav--Cassidy-- After last night, he just couldn't be there anymore. He was going to have to find a new place to live.
He sat in the car, wondering what to do next, and noticed his cell phone lying between the seats; he must have left it in the car last night. There was a voice mail--lots of voice mails, all from Trina. He considered ignoring them but somehow his fingers had already dialed his mailbox code and what else did he have to do anyway but listen to Trina's latest tragedy?
"Logan, where the hell are you? Oh my god, have you seen the news? Dad's dead, Logan. Someone shot him in his hotel--"
He cut off the message before the numbness that was coursing through his veins radiated to his hands and he lost the ability to work the buttons on the phone.
Well, that was one way to solve that problem, he thought. And then he started to laugh.
* * *
Veronica watched her dad cooking the bacon Logan had left on the stove. There was a ridiculous, goofy grin plastered on her face and she felt like her heart was going to burst right through her chest. Everything was okay. Everything was going to be okay.
My dad's alive. She couldn't stop repeating the thought over and over in her head, like some kind of Buddhist mantra. My dad's alive. My dad's alive. Each repetition brought an increased sense of peace and well-being.
"Would you mind turning on the TV, honey?" her dad asked. "I'm curious what they're saying about the Casablancas kid."
"Sure," said Veronica, moving for the remote. "Poor Dick. I mean, he was... well, kind of a dick, but Cassidy was his brother." My dad's alive, she thought happily, not really caring that much about Dick after all.
She flipped through the channels, searching for news. She nearly sailed past CNN, figuring the Neptune bus bomber probably wouldn't get much national coverage, when a glimpse of the name "Echolls" on the crawl at the bottom of the screen froze her blood in her veins.
--shot dead in his hotel room only days after his acquittal on murder charges--
"Oh my god," she breathed.
"What's wrong?" said Keith, abandoning the bacon and moving to her side.
"Someone murdered Aaron Echolls last night."
"Huh," he said. "That's an interesting development."
"Logan. Oh my god, Logan." She fumbled with her phone, heart thudding in her chest as her clumsy fingers pressed the numbers she knew by heart.
* * *
Logan was laughing so hard he didn't even hear the phone when it rang. He was still clutching it in his hand, though, so he felt it, a rattling tremor that startled him out of his hysteria. For a brief moment he was seized with the impulse to throw the thing out the window, and imagined the little pieces of plastic shattering as they collided with the asphalt.
Then he saw Veronica's name glowing on the display.
"Hey," he said. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine." Her voice was cool and soothing, like the washcloths his mother would press against his forehead when he was feverish. "I'm great, but Logan, your father--"
"I know," he said, cutting her off before she could actually say the words out loud. "Trina left me a message." He felt the laughter threatening to well up in him again.
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah, why wouldn't I be? I'm better than okay. I'm super-fucking-califragilisticexpiali--whatever."
"Where are you?"
"In my car." He hunched over so that his forehead was pressed against the top of the steering wheel and closed his eyes.
"Come back."
"No, you and your dad--"
"My dad's fine, Logan, yours..."
"Isn't," he supplied for her. "Couldn't you just eat the irony with a spoon? It's pretty funny when you think about it."
"It really isn't."
"Yeah, maybe not." He imagined the frown that would be on her face; he could almost trace the crinkles around her mouth by heart. "I'm really glad your dad's okay, Veronica. I didn't say anything before, but--"
"I know."
A shadow fell across him and then the car door opened and she was standing next to him. There was sunlight caught in her hair, so bright it made his eyes hurt. He wrapped his arms around her and pressed his face into the brightness of her hair and she held him and said, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."
Which was exactly what he'd said to her not even ten minutes ago. Funny how the world could turn itself upside down in such a short time. He felt himself starting to laugh again. The waves were lapping at his ankles, cold water that seeped into his bones, and the sand was collapsing under his feet, sucking him down.
"Come back inside," she said.
He nodded mutely, and let her take his hand and lead him to the shore.
The End