Theory Of Convergence: Veronica Mars: V/L
Title: Theory of Convergence
Chapter: [8] Look Like Something - Part 2
Author: tlace
Pairing/Character: Veronica/Logan, Veronica/Duncan, Logan/Lilly, with appearances by, pretty much, every Marsverse character ever
Word Count: 5605
Rating: R - Swearing, suggested drug-use and adult situations.
Summary: WIP begins pre-series, Veronica’s birthday is the jumping off point. Veronica and Logan are left behind when the Kane kids unexpectedly leave for the summer
Spoilers: Season 1
Warnings: Each part will have its own rating
Disclaimer: I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of Veronica Mars. No copyright infringement is intended.
Notes: A million fangirl thanks to Heather (
heather13 ) & Roz (
afrocurl ) for the beta on this chapter!
This chapter is too large for one post so it is cut in two. ( one & two)
Switching between a game of Minesweeper and surfing the web for some back-to-school clothes, the dated computer Veronica has been assigned for the day is doing her no favors on either front. Dropping her chin to her hands she puffs a stray hair from the bridge of her nose and stares at the phone on her desk, willing it to ring so she’ll have something to do.
As if answering a prayer, she hears a “psst” and sees Logan leaning over the counter.
Veronica peers around the office and then, smiling, gets up and walks to the front.
“Just in the neighborhood?” she asks, coyly.
“Always.”
A look passes between them and just as her heart begins to flutter Logan whips out a bouquet he’s been hiding beneath the counter.
“What's this?” Veronica asks, surprised, her fluttering heart suddenly exploding into a symphony in her chest.
“Well, they call them ‘flowers’.”
“Ah. What are they for?”
“Mmm, smelling. Wearing in your hair. Decoration...” Logan furrows his brow. “Do you want me to continue?”
“You know what I mean.”
“They're not for anything in particular. Saw them. Thought of you.”
“They’re beautiful.”
“Thus the reminder,” he says, cocking his brow as he leans further across the counter, resting on his elbows. “So, what are your plans for the rest of the day?”
Veronica smiles shyly, “Item number one on my list,” she replies, mirroring Logan to close the space between them, “hanging out with you… which also happens to be items two through ten so…”
Logan peeks down at her. “As I recall item number one was Magic Mountain.”
“I’m allowed to change my mind,” she defends with a shrug, peering up to meet his gaze.
There’s a beat and suddenly Logan reaches over to finger the wisp of a sleeve on her cotton tee, continuing to look into her eyes, triggering a tremble that moves through her as Veronica consciously reminds her self not to think, to just allow the moment to happen and take it for what it is, which she does, until she suddenly remembers…
“Oh! So, I Googled you today,” she exclaims, her abrupt outburst seeming to change the mood in the room in an instant.
“You what?” Logan asks.
“Googled. You know, put your name in and ‘bingo’ instant information.”
“Bingo, huh?”
“Uh-huh. Found some interesting stuff too.”
“Like what,” Logan replies flatly, not sounding amused.
“You've attended every one of your father's movie premieres.”
“Yep,” Logan admits, standing up and looking around the room.
“Your mother traveled with your dad the first five years of your life,” she offers, “In fact, it was when you visited him on-set in Barbados that your allergy to shell-fish was discovered.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Um, also, your birth certificate says Beverly Hills but technically, you were born in Newberg, Oregon.”
“My mom was at a spa there," Logan explains.
“All right, technical birth places aside, the thing I found most interesting…” she pauses for dramatic effect, “You were on your elementary school's soccer team.”
“What's so interesting about that?”
“Well, you’re not exactly Sports Guy Yay,” she says, raising her fists in a rah-rah gesture. “And yet, it turns out, you were the star goalie… until you abruptly quit.”
“You found all this on the internet?”
“Your father has some seriously obsessed fans,” she explains, eyebrows raised.
“Understatement.”
“So, why'd you stop?”
“Um, I don't know, I was nine.”
“No really.”
“I wasn't expecting an inquisition today.”
“It's not,” she defends, “I'm just curious.”
“Don't they pay you to file or something?”
“I was done in like a half an hour, the phones are dead and...”
“I quit because my dad never went to one single game,” Logan interrupts, breathing out his confession and biting at his lip as he hangs his head.
“Oh.” Veronica feels awful immediately and tries to think of something to comfort Logan or at least let him know she didn’t mean to be nosy. But before she has a chance to say a word he’s around the counter and standing within inches of her.
“No more talk of my youthful athleticism,” he demands gently, “When are you done?”
“I don’t know. Inga ran off muttering something about ‘the dungeon’ and I haven’t seen her since,” she huffs, “I’ve got to cover phones until she gets back.”
It is then that Inga appears pushing a long cart full of manila folders, precariously perched in stacks so high she cannot see in front of her. She inches along the wall, holding one of the piles in place with her hand and using the other to guide the cart slowly as she watches out for bumps in the floor.
“These are the files that I spoke about, Veronica,” Inga says from behind the mountain of paperwork, “We are having the audit first thing Monday. Everything is to go into the gray cabinets in the back,” Inga instructs. As she stops the cart and steps out from behind it, a look of sheer joy moves across her face when she realizes Logan is standing there.
“Oh Logan, how very nice to see you!” Inga greets, putting both hands out for Logan and squeezing his fingers tightly.
“Good to see you too, Inga,” Logan responds with a smile.
Veronica ignores the round of salutations, concentrating on the enormous quantity of folders before her. “So, uh, I can’t leave until I’ve filed all of these?”
“Sorry no. I was told of the audit only twenty minutes ago. These were to be filed last month but…” Inga stops abruptly, noticing the immense bouquet, “What is this?”
“Logan brought them for me,” Veronica whispers, her cheeks going pink as she lifts her eyes up to look at him, receiving a wink in return.
“See?” Inga coos, swatting at Veronica’s arm suggestively and giving Logan an approving look. “Such an angel,” she murmurs mostly to herself as she begins spreading the flowers out on the counter to arrange them.
Ignoring Inga’s excitement over the flowers, and giving herself a reason to shift her focus from Logan’s romantic gesture, Veronica puffs out a sigh and turns to him, “Looks like we won’t be hanging out after all.”
“What if I help you?” Logan offers.
“Unfortunately,” Inga interjects before Veronica can respond, “we can only afford one part-time assistant.”
“You don’t need to pay me.”
Inga sucks in a dramatic breath, her mouth agape, “Aren’t you a generous boy,” she exclaims with a wink, “we have a deal.” Scooping up the bouquet Inga pivots around them, locking eyes and sharing a giddy smile with Veronica, whispering “I’ll just get some water for these now,” into her ear as she passes.
As Inga hurries off in a flurry, Veronica looks up at Logan. “Thanks,” she says, trying to contain a huge grin, “It’s nice of you to offer to help me.”
“I’m not doing it for you,” he replies, the truth in his eyes, “So. Where do we start?”
***
Peeking over a folder, pretending to read its contents, Veronica eyes Logan who is barely visible as he slouches behind several neatly arranged stacks of manila folders. Occasionally he’ll shift and she can see his furrowed brow, or his fingers flipping through tabs, arranging, re-arranging. Sometimes, when he cocks his head just so, she catches a glimpse of his tongue pressed between his lips as he focuses on numerical and alphabetical orders - seemingly unaware of her heavy stare - and she gets the most amazing tingle shooting straight to her center.
She’ll admit the flower thing threw her a little, a lot actually, which she’s surprised Logan didn’t pick up on. But she supposes that with the two of them spending every day together, her skills at faking her true feelings are being tested at every turn, honed and perfected. Still, her uncharacteristic deftness at not only keeping her composure during his unexpected visit - and the accompanying gift - but also her ability to carry on a fairly coherent conversation, makes her proud.
So while the flowers threw her it was in an entirely good way because she woke this morning feeling a little off kilter, in terms of where she and Logan stood. Even though he talked to her for hours until she convinced him to hang up and go to sleep, she knew she wouldn’t feel better about the whatever-that-was last night in his driveway until she saw his face again. Until she knew they were okay. So the flowers, and his sudden appearance at the station, eased her fears and seemed to set everything right.
But then she had to go and screw it up - her subconscious taking over to sabotage what should have been an awesome moment - by mentioning her amateur sleuthing and all the private information she’d managed to find, which made Logan obviously uneasy and makes her consider how she’s managed to make any friends ever, what with her foot planted firmly in her oral cavity.
Idiot.
“Hey, honey,” Veronica hears her dad say from behind her, feeling the weight of his hand on the back of her chair as he leans over her to get a look at what she’s doing. “Audit, huh?” he asks, smoothing her hair and giving her shoulder a squeeze.
Sliding her eyes back to the task at hand, faking concentration, Veronica quietly grumps, “Yeah. Inga waited until half an hour before I was supposed to leave to dump everything on me.”
“Hmm, well, this doesn’t look so bad,” he comments, indicating the small group of folders on her desk. She gestures silently with her pencil over to the other side of the room, where the remaining stacks are located.
“Is that Logan?” Keith asks, a confused quality to his voice.
“Behind eight years of accounts payable? Yep.”
“He’s on the county payroll now?”
“No. He just wants me to get out of here before we graduate,” she quips, looking up at Keith’s chin while he continues to eye Logan, “so he offered to help.”
“Mm-hmm.”
Through a smile and an exhale of breath she asks, “What?”
Peering down at Veronica, Keith’s eyes are twinkling and his grin is impossible to ignore, he wiggles his eyebrows at her in response.
“Dad!”
“Did I say anything?” he defends, hands up as he assesses Logan from the corner of his eye.
“You didn’t have to. You and your animated eyebrows.”
She can see Keith breathe out a sigh before looking down at her with a resigned, “It’s nice that he helped you.”
“And brought me flowers,” she offers under her breath, irritated that she’s essentially confirmed her father’s suspicions, but unable to contain the information - or the smile spreading across her face - as she glances anywhere but at Keith.
Pausing a moment, Keith gives a thoughtful “hmm” before he pulls an empty desk chair over and sits down, seemingly ready for a serious talk. “You mean that hotel lobby sized bouquet up front?” he asks, his head shaking in the direction of the reception area.
Nodding, she smiles and leans back on her chair to peer behind Keith and up to the main counter, “They’re really pretty,” she declares in a dreamy voice.
“Expensive, too.”
“So,” Veronica counters.
“Well.”
“Well, what?”
“Nothing,” he says, returning Veronica’s look, before confessing, “Okay. Something. The flowers look like something.”
“Maybe. But that was before he found out that I Googled him.”
Keith’s brow bends in confusion. “Is that a verb?” he asks, all quizzical look and playful tone.
She rolls her eyes, ignoring his comment, and through a huff explains, “I was bored, so I typed in his name figuring I’d get a ton of links to stuff about his dad, maybe a baby picture.” She stops for a second as a strange feeling of embarrassment and guilt washes over her, hanging her head she continues, “But there were pages about Logan. Things that I didn’t even know, it was kind of weird.”
“Okay,” Keith says, his tone urging her to keep going.
When she looks up again her dad has that face, the one where he’s not going to leave her alone until she tells him the whole story, so she just gives in and continues, “Well, it’s just… he brings me this beautiful bouquet and my response is to tell him all about how I basically stalked him. Dug up a lifetime of personal information.”
“How personal can it be if it’s on the web? Sort of public domain. ”
“Sure, but, besides listing off everything I’d found, I had to push it, you know? Confirm the facts, ask a bunch of questions.”
“The Mars are a thorough people,” Keith admits with a shrug. “Part of our appeal.”
She flashes Keith a weak, appreciative grin and says, “Yeah, well, he seemed sort of freaked.”
“He doesn’t look freaked now,” Keith comments, thumbing in Logan’s direction.
“I guess,” she responds, still worried that Logan is quietly stewing as he organizes and sorts.
“Is it really that big a deal? Being Googled?”
“I don’t know. I put my name in and all I get is stuff about a planet and a candy bar.”
“Fortunately for you,” Keith notes, waggling his finger playfully, “your father is not an action hero.”
“Right, but what if you were and he looked me up like that?”
“You’d be mad at him?”
“I keep telling myself that I wouldn’t, but that could just be my inner whatever trying to make me feel better.”
“Look at him,” Keith demands, nodding his head toward Logan.
“I am,” she admits, her face erupting into an uncontrollable grin.
“Logan Echolls is not someone who has to work. Probably avoids it at all costs.”
“Dad.”
“Not judging. When I was his age my purpose was to avoid work, and I didn’t have ten dollars much less tens of millions.”
“Okay.”
“So he’s sitting over there, hunkered down behind that desk doing three-quarters of your assignment,” he observes, turning a pointed look at her, “Very meticulously I might add. Spending a gorgeous afternoon stuck in this dank, colorless place and it makes me think he doesn’t really care that he was ‘Googled’,” Keith finishes, gesturing air-quotes after his final word.
“Really?”
“No doubt in my mind,” he reassures, reaching over to grip Veronica’s chin, making her look into his eyes. “You think too much kiddo, I ever tell you that?” he asks, with a grin.
“Possibly,” she acquiesces, dropping her shoulders as she blows out a sigh. “I just really don’t want to hurt his feelings.”
“You wanting to know more about him probably did the opposite.”
Grateful for her dad’s insight she gives him a broad grin as he leans over to kiss her forehead and pass her a thoughtful look.
“Okay, well, the second shift of deputies just reported in and I’m thinking they could use a little practice with their filing skills,” he suggests.
Veronica pretends that his proposal doesn’t make her gleeful, but she can see Keith knows it does.
“If you promise to behave yourself,” Keith warns, pointing a finger at her and affecting his best Father-Knows-Best face, “I’ll be patrolling the streets tonight.”
“Well, crap. There go our plans for the big jewel heist,” she exclaims, dramatically throwing her hands in the air in mock frustration, and shaking her head. “Logan’s going to be so disappointed.”
“I mean it, Veronica. Any funny business and I’ll know,” he assures, his mildly-serious tone making Veronica feel guilty for things she hasn’t even considered doing.
“Fine. No streets. How about back alleys and sidewalks? You patrolling those too?”
He cocks his head, “Don’t push it smarty-pants, I could chain you to this desk for the next five hours…”
“Okay!” she interrupts, getting up quickly, “Done pushing. But I gotta know what’s got the Sheriff working weekends,” she begs, blinking back the wrinkle in her brow. “Thought there were two perks to your job.”
“There are, but it appears most of my deputies have a case of ‘Weekend-itis’ and took tonight off.”
“You let them?”
“Eh. It’s good for morale,” he concedes with a shrug, “Besides, I hear that the dregs of society appreciate being arrested by an actual Sheriff and not some low-level deputy. Gives ‘em serious cred in the pen.”
“I’ll bet,” she teases through a laugh.
“All right, that’s enough,” he commands, waving her off, “Go tell your friend that he can quit looking busy and head out. Before I change my mind.”
“Okay. I will,” Veronica agrees, flinging her arms around his shoulders and giving him a tight hug, “And thanks, Dad.”
“What can I say?” he comments pulling away to look at her, his expression proud, “You’re my girl.”
/chapter
Chapter: [8] Look Like Something - Part 2
Author: tlace
Pairing/Character: Veronica/Logan, Veronica/Duncan, Logan/Lilly, with appearances by, pretty much, every Marsverse character ever
Word Count: 5605
Rating: R - Swearing, suggested drug-use and adult situations.
Summary: WIP begins pre-series, Veronica’s birthday is the jumping off point. Veronica and Logan are left behind when the Kane kids unexpectedly leave for the summer
Spoilers: Season 1
Warnings: Each part will have its own rating
Disclaimer: I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of Veronica Mars. No copyright infringement is intended.
Notes: A million fangirl thanks to Heather (
heather13 ) & Roz (
afrocurl ) for the beta on this chapter!
This chapter is too large for one post so it is cut in two. ( one & two)
Switching between a game of Minesweeper and surfing the web for some back-to-school clothes, the dated computer Veronica has been assigned for the day is doing her no favors on either front. Dropping her chin to her hands she puffs a stray hair from the bridge of her nose and stares at the phone on her desk, willing it to ring so she’ll have something to do.
As if answering a prayer, she hears a “psst” and sees Logan leaning over the counter.
Veronica peers around the office and then, smiling, gets up and walks to the front.
“Just in the neighborhood?” she asks, coyly.
“Always.”
A look passes between them and just as her heart begins to flutter Logan whips out a bouquet he’s been hiding beneath the counter.
“What's this?” Veronica asks, surprised, her fluttering heart suddenly exploding into a symphony in her chest.
“Well, they call them ‘flowers’.”
“Ah. What are they for?”
“Mmm, smelling. Wearing in your hair. Decoration...” Logan furrows his brow. “Do you want me to continue?”
“You know what I mean.”
“They're not for anything in particular. Saw them. Thought of you.”
“They’re beautiful.”
“Thus the reminder,” he says, cocking his brow as he leans further across the counter, resting on his elbows. “So, what are your plans for the rest of the day?”
Veronica smiles shyly, “Item number one on my list,” she replies, mirroring Logan to close the space between them, “hanging out with you… which also happens to be items two through ten so…”
Logan peeks down at her. “As I recall item number one was Magic Mountain.”
“I’m allowed to change my mind,” she defends with a shrug, peering up to meet his gaze.
There’s a beat and suddenly Logan reaches over to finger the wisp of a sleeve on her cotton tee, continuing to look into her eyes, triggering a tremble that moves through her as Veronica consciously reminds her self not to think, to just allow the moment to happen and take it for what it is, which she does, until she suddenly remembers…
“Oh! So, I Googled you today,” she exclaims, her abrupt outburst seeming to change the mood in the room in an instant.
“You what?” Logan asks.
“Googled. You know, put your name in and ‘bingo’ instant information.”
“Bingo, huh?”
“Uh-huh. Found some interesting stuff too.”
“Like what,” Logan replies flatly, not sounding amused.
“You've attended every one of your father's movie premieres.”
“Yep,” Logan admits, standing up and looking around the room.
“Your mother traveled with your dad the first five years of your life,” she offers, “In fact, it was when you visited him on-set in Barbados that your allergy to shell-fish was discovered.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Um, also, your birth certificate says Beverly Hills but technically, you were born in Newberg, Oregon.”
“My mom was at a spa there," Logan explains.
“All right, technical birth places aside, the thing I found most interesting…” she pauses for dramatic effect, “You were on your elementary school's soccer team.”
“What's so interesting about that?”
“Well, you’re not exactly Sports Guy Yay,” she says, raising her fists in a rah-rah gesture. “And yet, it turns out, you were the star goalie… until you abruptly quit.”
“You found all this on the internet?”
“Your father has some seriously obsessed fans,” she explains, eyebrows raised.
“Understatement.”
“So, why'd you stop?”
“Um, I don't know, I was nine.”
“No really.”
“I wasn't expecting an inquisition today.”
“It's not,” she defends, “I'm just curious.”
“Don't they pay you to file or something?”
“I was done in like a half an hour, the phones are dead and...”
“I quit because my dad never went to one single game,” Logan interrupts, breathing out his confession and biting at his lip as he hangs his head.
“Oh.” Veronica feels awful immediately and tries to think of something to comfort Logan or at least let him know she didn’t mean to be nosy. But before she has a chance to say a word he’s around the counter and standing within inches of her.
“No more talk of my youthful athleticism,” he demands gently, “When are you done?”
“I don’t know. Inga ran off muttering something about ‘the dungeon’ and I haven’t seen her since,” she huffs, “I’ve got to cover phones until she gets back.”
It is then that Inga appears pushing a long cart full of manila folders, precariously perched in stacks so high she cannot see in front of her. She inches along the wall, holding one of the piles in place with her hand and using the other to guide the cart slowly as she watches out for bumps in the floor.
“These are the files that I spoke about, Veronica,” Inga says from behind the mountain of paperwork, “We are having the audit first thing Monday. Everything is to go into the gray cabinets in the back,” Inga instructs. As she stops the cart and steps out from behind it, a look of sheer joy moves across her face when she realizes Logan is standing there.
“Oh Logan, how very nice to see you!” Inga greets, putting both hands out for Logan and squeezing his fingers tightly.
“Good to see you too, Inga,” Logan responds with a smile.
Veronica ignores the round of salutations, concentrating on the enormous quantity of folders before her. “So, uh, I can’t leave until I’ve filed all of these?”
“Sorry no. I was told of the audit only twenty minutes ago. These were to be filed last month but…” Inga stops abruptly, noticing the immense bouquet, “What is this?”
“Logan brought them for me,” Veronica whispers, her cheeks going pink as she lifts her eyes up to look at him, receiving a wink in return.
“See?” Inga coos, swatting at Veronica’s arm suggestively and giving Logan an approving look. “Such an angel,” she murmurs mostly to herself as she begins spreading the flowers out on the counter to arrange them.
Ignoring Inga’s excitement over the flowers, and giving herself a reason to shift her focus from Logan’s romantic gesture, Veronica puffs out a sigh and turns to him, “Looks like we won’t be hanging out after all.”
“What if I help you?” Logan offers.
“Unfortunately,” Inga interjects before Veronica can respond, “we can only afford one part-time assistant.”
“You don’t need to pay me.”
Inga sucks in a dramatic breath, her mouth agape, “Aren’t you a generous boy,” she exclaims with a wink, “we have a deal.” Scooping up the bouquet Inga pivots around them, locking eyes and sharing a giddy smile with Veronica, whispering “I’ll just get some water for these now,” into her ear as she passes.
As Inga hurries off in a flurry, Veronica looks up at Logan. “Thanks,” she says, trying to contain a huge grin, “It’s nice of you to offer to help me.”
“I’m not doing it for you,” he replies, the truth in his eyes, “So. Where do we start?”
***
Peeking over a folder, pretending to read its contents, Veronica eyes Logan who is barely visible as he slouches behind several neatly arranged stacks of manila folders. Occasionally he’ll shift and she can see his furrowed brow, or his fingers flipping through tabs, arranging, re-arranging. Sometimes, when he cocks his head just so, she catches a glimpse of his tongue pressed between his lips as he focuses on numerical and alphabetical orders - seemingly unaware of her heavy stare - and she gets the most amazing tingle shooting straight to her center.
She’ll admit the flower thing threw her a little, a lot actually, which she’s surprised Logan didn’t pick up on. But she supposes that with the two of them spending every day together, her skills at faking her true feelings are being tested at every turn, honed and perfected. Still, her uncharacteristic deftness at not only keeping her composure during his unexpected visit - and the accompanying gift - but also her ability to carry on a fairly coherent conversation, makes her proud.
So while the flowers threw her it was in an entirely good way because she woke this morning feeling a little off kilter, in terms of where she and Logan stood. Even though he talked to her for hours until she convinced him to hang up and go to sleep, she knew she wouldn’t feel better about the whatever-that-was last night in his driveway until she saw his face again. Until she knew they were okay. So the flowers, and his sudden appearance at the station, eased her fears and seemed to set everything right.
But then she had to go and screw it up - her subconscious taking over to sabotage what should have been an awesome moment - by mentioning her amateur sleuthing and all the private information she’d managed to find, which made Logan obviously uneasy and makes her consider how she’s managed to make any friends ever, what with her foot planted firmly in her oral cavity.
Idiot.
“Hey, honey,” Veronica hears her dad say from behind her, feeling the weight of his hand on the back of her chair as he leans over her to get a look at what she’s doing. “Audit, huh?” he asks, smoothing her hair and giving her shoulder a squeeze.
Sliding her eyes back to the task at hand, faking concentration, Veronica quietly grumps, “Yeah. Inga waited until half an hour before I was supposed to leave to dump everything on me.”
“Hmm, well, this doesn’t look so bad,” he comments, indicating the small group of folders on her desk. She gestures silently with her pencil over to the other side of the room, where the remaining stacks are located.
“Is that Logan?” Keith asks, a confused quality to his voice.
“Behind eight years of accounts payable? Yep.”
“He’s on the county payroll now?”
“No. He just wants me to get out of here before we graduate,” she quips, looking up at Keith’s chin while he continues to eye Logan, “so he offered to help.”
“Mm-hmm.”
Through a smile and an exhale of breath she asks, “What?”
Peering down at Veronica, Keith’s eyes are twinkling and his grin is impossible to ignore, he wiggles his eyebrows at her in response.
“Dad!”
“Did I say anything?” he defends, hands up as he assesses Logan from the corner of his eye.
“You didn’t have to. You and your animated eyebrows.”
She can see Keith breathe out a sigh before looking down at her with a resigned, “It’s nice that he helped you.”
“And brought me flowers,” she offers under her breath, irritated that she’s essentially confirmed her father’s suspicions, but unable to contain the information - or the smile spreading across her face - as she glances anywhere but at Keith.
Pausing a moment, Keith gives a thoughtful “hmm” before he pulls an empty desk chair over and sits down, seemingly ready for a serious talk. “You mean that hotel lobby sized bouquet up front?” he asks, his head shaking in the direction of the reception area.
Nodding, she smiles and leans back on her chair to peer behind Keith and up to the main counter, “They’re really pretty,” she declares in a dreamy voice.
“Expensive, too.”
“So,” Veronica counters.
“Well.”
“Well, what?”
“Nothing,” he says, returning Veronica’s look, before confessing, “Okay. Something. The flowers look like something.”
“Maybe. But that was before he found out that I Googled him.”
Keith’s brow bends in confusion. “Is that a verb?” he asks, all quizzical look and playful tone.
She rolls her eyes, ignoring his comment, and through a huff explains, “I was bored, so I typed in his name figuring I’d get a ton of links to stuff about his dad, maybe a baby picture.” She stops for a second as a strange feeling of embarrassment and guilt washes over her, hanging her head she continues, “But there were pages about Logan. Things that I didn’t even know, it was kind of weird.”
“Okay,” Keith says, his tone urging her to keep going.
When she looks up again her dad has that face, the one where he’s not going to leave her alone until she tells him the whole story, so she just gives in and continues, “Well, it’s just… he brings me this beautiful bouquet and my response is to tell him all about how I basically stalked him. Dug up a lifetime of personal information.”
“How personal can it be if it’s on the web? Sort of public domain. ”
“Sure, but, besides listing off everything I’d found, I had to push it, you know? Confirm the facts, ask a bunch of questions.”
“The Mars are a thorough people,” Keith admits with a shrug. “Part of our appeal.”
She flashes Keith a weak, appreciative grin and says, “Yeah, well, he seemed sort of freaked.”
“He doesn’t look freaked now,” Keith comments, thumbing in Logan’s direction.
“I guess,” she responds, still worried that Logan is quietly stewing as he organizes and sorts.
“Is it really that big a deal? Being Googled?”
“I don’t know. I put my name in and all I get is stuff about a planet and a candy bar.”
“Fortunately for you,” Keith notes, waggling his finger playfully, “your father is not an action hero.”
“Right, but what if you were and he looked me up like that?”
“You’d be mad at him?”
“I keep telling myself that I wouldn’t, but that could just be my inner whatever trying to make me feel better.”
“Look at him,” Keith demands, nodding his head toward Logan.
“I am,” she admits, her face erupting into an uncontrollable grin.
“Logan Echolls is not someone who has to work. Probably avoids it at all costs.”
“Dad.”
“Not judging. When I was his age my purpose was to avoid work, and I didn’t have ten dollars much less tens of millions.”
“Okay.”
“So he’s sitting over there, hunkered down behind that desk doing three-quarters of your assignment,” he observes, turning a pointed look at her, “Very meticulously I might add. Spending a gorgeous afternoon stuck in this dank, colorless place and it makes me think he doesn’t really care that he was ‘Googled’,” Keith finishes, gesturing air-quotes after his final word.
“Really?”
“No doubt in my mind,” he reassures, reaching over to grip Veronica’s chin, making her look into his eyes. “You think too much kiddo, I ever tell you that?” he asks, with a grin.
“Possibly,” she acquiesces, dropping her shoulders as she blows out a sigh. “I just really don’t want to hurt his feelings.”
“You wanting to know more about him probably did the opposite.”
Grateful for her dad’s insight she gives him a broad grin as he leans over to kiss her forehead and pass her a thoughtful look.
“Okay, well, the second shift of deputies just reported in and I’m thinking they could use a little practice with their filing skills,” he suggests.
Veronica pretends that his proposal doesn’t make her gleeful, but she can see Keith knows it does.
“If you promise to behave yourself,” Keith warns, pointing a finger at her and affecting his best Father-Knows-Best face, “I’ll be patrolling the streets tonight.”
“Well, crap. There go our plans for the big jewel heist,” she exclaims, dramatically throwing her hands in the air in mock frustration, and shaking her head. “Logan’s going to be so disappointed.”
“I mean it, Veronica. Any funny business and I’ll know,” he assures, his mildly-serious tone making Veronica feel guilty for things she hasn’t even considered doing.
“Fine. No streets. How about back alleys and sidewalks? You patrolling those too?”
He cocks his head, “Don’t push it smarty-pants, I could chain you to this desk for the next five hours…”
“Okay!” she interrupts, getting up quickly, “Done pushing. But I gotta know what’s got the Sheriff working weekends,” she begs, blinking back the wrinkle in her brow. “Thought there were two perks to your job.”
“There are, but it appears most of my deputies have a case of ‘Weekend-itis’ and took tonight off.”
“You let them?”
“Eh. It’s good for morale,” he concedes with a shrug, “Besides, I hear that the dregs of society appreciate being arrested by an actual Sheriff and not some low-level deputy. Gives ‘em serious cred in the pen.”
“I’ll bet,” she teases through a laugh.
“All right, that’s enough,” he commands, waving her off, “Go tell your friend that he can quit looking busy and head out. Before I change my mind.”
“Okay. I will,” Veronica agrees, flinging her arms around his shoulders and giving him a tight hug, “And thanks, Dad.”
“What can I say?” he comments pulling away to look at her, his expression proud, “You’re my girl.”
/chapter