VM fic: The Fine Line Between Love and Hate (Weevil/Veronica/Logan) R
Title: The Fine Line Between Love and Hate
Author: shealynn88
Word Count: ~4000 words
Original Fic: The Fine Line Between Friends and Enemies
What If: What if Logan and Weevil decide that the perfect thing to keep them both awake is porn, no matter how much Veronica objects?
Characters/Pairings: Weevil/Veronica/Logan
Rating: R (language, some sexual content)
Spoilers/Warnings: Takes place after some of the events of Wallace and Rashard go to White Castle. Strong language, sexual content and innuendo. Also, LoVe.
Summary: Veronica goes looking for Weevil and finds him at Logan's. Porn gets watched. Snark and soul-searching ensue.
A/N: A rewrite for the what_if challenge. For the people who know me, I feel I should warn for serious LoVe content. Not my usual fare, and I don't want to scar you. Of course, knowing me, you can't have much of anything without some W/V as well…so it's all sorta muddled and smushed and cracktastic. Thanks to mandilyn for being a very patient sounding board. The cracktastic nature of the fic is not her fault. So when you find yourself going, WTF?, which you inevitably will, don't blame her.
Veronica's hands shook as she tried to find the right key. As much as she'd tried to take all the guess-work out of her life, all the things that made her vulnerable…as much as she'd tried to cut herself off and take what life threw at her…she'd failed, and here she was again, running behind and picking up the fractured pieces of people she called friends. Or, you know, 'partners-in-crime,' or 'bad-boy gang leaders who helped her out on occasion'…and now her train of thought was getting out of hand and she should really be focusing.
Veronica took a deep breath, hoping that Logan might have some idea what had happened to Weevil, and where she should start looking. She was afraid the answer would be, 'The River Styx'. Or worse, the Pacific Ocean.
She'd heard it on the scanner earlier-Weevil's bike had been found washed up on the beach. Lamb's cold voice had reported the bike's condition as destroyed, and then he'd rattled off the registration to one Eli 'Weevil' Navarro. She'd sat for a long moment on the edge of her bed, numb and shocked and desperately worried.
Weevil had always been there. She'd never really examined it, never really looked too closely. Her life was complicated enough without putting the leader of the local biker gang into the equation. But with the possibility of death-by-Fitzpatrick echoing sharply in her ears, she realized suddenly what this loss would mean. When she needed someone she trusted, she called him. When she needed a break from the insanity of her life, she teased him. He was always there to lean on, to help out….
Until now.
She finally found the key that Duncan had given her so long ago-it seemed like a lifetime, now. So much had changed, too much and too little, all at once. She didn't have nearly enough armor built up to deal with this loss.
Please, let him be okay, she thought to herself as she unlocked the door to the apartment, hoping like hell that Logan didn't have one of his bimbos over…and trying not to think about the possibility that he might not be home at all. Because he and Weevil had been working together, and if the Fitzpatricks had discovered what they'd pulled at the confessional, Weevil wasn't the only one they'd be wanting a piece of…
She swallowed down another bout of worry turning to nausea. She wasn't going to think about that. Logan wasn't dead or beaten-she wasn't that lucky.
She hoped.
"Logan," she started as she opened the door. "They found Weevil's bike-"
She froze in the doorway when she saw the two of them. Weevil was sitting on the couch, looking a bit worse for wear, and Logan was clumsily wiping at his face with a washcloth. He looked…concerned. Between the fact that they were both alive and more-or-less well, and the fact that Logan looked like he was trying to take care of Weevil, Veronica was sure she'd died and this was the final, random firing of synapses. There was going to be a white light. Any minute now.
Any minute now.
But there wasn't, and she was forced to admit that this might actually be happening. "Weevil," she managed-fairly calmly, she thought, considering the circumstances. "You're okay." She took a few small steps, making sure her feet stayed under her. The floor stayed horizontal and navigable, and she stepped into the apartment with a little more confidence, scanning the doorway quickly. No feet with striped socks and ruby slippers to be seen.
So…still in Neptune.
She took a deep breath and pasted on a carefree smile, breezing toward the couch and kneeling. She didn't spare a look for Logan. She didn't want to deal with the sharp taunts if he saw her bone crushing relief. "Well, you look like hell. How do you feel?"
Weevil scowled. "How do you think I feel?"
"Isn't that a question for your therapist?" she quipped, covering her concern. Then she leaned forward, inspecting a cut over his temple. "Just answer the question. Have you blacked out at all? Double vision?"
"God help me if I start seeing two of you," he managed, wincing as she probed the wound.
She probed a little harder. "God help you if you keep making wise cracks instead of answering my questions."
"Ow! Damn! All right, all right! No blackouts, no double vision. I'm fine."
"Really? This is a nasty gash, Weevil. You could have a concussion and not even know it. No blurred vision or dizziness?"
He shook his head, looking irritated.
"You should still stay up for a while, just to be sure. If you have problems with your vision at all, or get nauseous…anything like that, you need to have this looked at." She stretched up to try to evaluate his pupils. "Let me see your eyes."
He laughed. "You know, tonight's not the best night for lines, V. Try again in a week, I'll be sure to give you your money's worth."
She grabbed his chin and made him look at her. His pupils were the same size. And his eyelashes were freakishly long. She had to use a heap of mascara to get eyelashes that looked anything like that-more proof that life was unfair. Way to stay focused, Mars.
Weevil removed her hand from his chin. "I'm fine," he repeated firmly.
"You keep touching him like that, I'm gonna get all jealous," Logan said. He waved a hand at both of them in dismissal. "He's fine. Really. He couldn't possibly have brain damage because I'm just not that lucky. And he's been an ungrateful shit since I hauled his ass here."
"Well, if you hadn't tried to clean my face with fucking peroxide-"
Veronica was grateful for the interruption when her cell phone rang. At least, she was until she saw who the caller was. "You boys battle it out, I'll be right back," she said, ignoring the escalating argument behind her as she moved to the other side of the room.
"Dad," she greeted cheerfully.
"Veronica. You remember that thing where we're rebuilding trust? You being out at…oh, midnight on a school night? Not helping."
She laughed nervously. "Um, yeah. Sorry."
"So?"
"So, I'll be home when I can?"
"What are you up to, Veronica? I'm not sure I want to know, but as your father, I really think I should."
"Well, currently, I’m stripping at a drunken party at the G-Spot. But things are winding down and they're not tipping very well anymore, so I should be home soon."
"Veronica," he said sternly.
She sighed. "Weevil got hurt. I just…I want to be sure he's okay before I go. That's all."
"Weevil. Again. Haven't I said something about you not hanging around with the local criminal element?"
"Actually, I think you had a problem with me smartening up the local criminal element. Right now, I'm just trying to keep him this side of healthy. Or at least, conscious."
"Sweetie, I love that you take care of people. I do. But I think it's time to come home, now. His family can take care of him."
"Well, I'm sure they could. But they don't happen to be here, and his current company isn't really trustworthy."
"And who is his current company?"
Oh, Veronica, good going. "Umm…Logan."
"Logan Echolls? You're with Logan Echolls and Eli Navarro?" He chuckled, his exasperated, 'I'm too tired to yell' chuckle. "Veronica, that's not funny. Where are you, really?"
She smiled weakly. "I'm at the Grand. With Logan and Weevil. It's no big deal, really."
"Why do I get a bad feeling every time you say that?"
"Dad, please."
He sighed his classic, long-suffering sigh. "So, I'm supposed to not worry because you're with Logan and Eli?"
"No, you're supposed to not worry because you know me and love me, and you know I can take care of myself."
"I know that?"
"Yes you do."
Another sigh. "Okay. I'll see you when you get in."
It was a threat, and a promise, but it was also an okay. She'd take it. "Thank you."
Veronica ended the call and wandered over to where the boys were watching TV and arguing good naturedly. It was odd to see them getting along so well. She kept expecting one of them to start a fist fight.
The cheesy music hit her a second before she was greeted by a full frontal view of one of the ugliest guys she'd ever had the misfortune to see. "Oh my god," she said, wincing. "Are you watching porn?"
Logan glanced over nonchalantly, but she could see the challenge in the slight sneer at the corner of his mouth. "Yeah. Is that a problem?"
"I think it kills brain cells."
Logan shrugged. "I think you can spare a few. Anyhow, I thought I'd leave it up to piñata boy, here."
Veronica turned to Weevil, raising an eyebrow. "This was your idea?"
He shrugged, laughing. "You said I should stay…up. Asia Carerra is pretty much guaranteed to do the job." A raised eyebrow emphasized the double meaning, and Veronica rolled her eyes.
"Drink?" Logan offered blandly before she could come up with a properly cutting response.
She looked over at the open bottle of tequila and the shot glasses in front of him. "Ah, no. Great idea, though. Alcohol and concussions go so well together."
Logan gave her a wide, sweet smile. "Well, it always worked for me. All natural pain-killer, you know." He poured three shots and slid them across the table, one for each of them.
"Apparently porn does kill brain cells," Veronica said, looking down at the shot in front of her. "Because here I was under the mistaken impression that you could count."
Logan tipped his shot back, followed shortly by Weevil. "What makes you think I can't?"
She shrugged. "Maybe it's your hearing. I said I didn't want a drink."
He licked his lips and gestured at the shot in front of her. "That? It's just in case."
"In case I decide I need a lobotomy?"
His smile was dangerously benign. "Something like that."
"Well, I hate to disappoint you, but I think I'm going to head out. Lobotomy free."
Logan shrugged, watching the movie. "'Kay. Just don't expect me to keep your boy awake. I did my good deed for the day when I scraped him off the pavement."
"And he's been so fucking gracious about it, too," Weevil said dryly, sounding less pissed off than Veronica would have expected. If they'd really decided to be friends after all this, she was going to have to revise her list of 'hell-freezing-over' indicators.
"Have a wonderful night with Asia," she told them. "I'm off."
Veronica got as far as the elevator before she realized she didn't have her keys, and she thought for a long moment before heading back to the apartment. When the choices were, walking home, calling her dad and explaining why she didn't want to go collect her keys, and braving the porn-fest…the porn-fest won by a very small margin.
She snuck back in, hoping her keys would be on the shelf near the door, allowing her to ignore the high-quality sounds (no doubt related to the high-def images) coming from the television set in the living room. No such luck.
Veronica gave up her stealthy practices and started talking loudly to herself as she approached the couch. "I know I left them here somewhere," she said, hoping that if coverage was needed, the boys would take the hint and not scar her for life.
She finally caught sight of her keys on the coffee table in front of Weevil, and made her way around the couch to collect them.
Logan smiled. "Miss us already?"
She returned the smile with lots of teeth. "Sorry to disappoint you, I just needed my keys."
She glanced over at Weevil on her way out, only to see that his head was tipped back and his eyes were closed.
"Jesus, Logan, didn't you hear me about him not sleeping?" She sat down on the couch and shook Weevil gently, trying not to hit any bruises.
Logan got up, looking down at the two of them. "Didn't you hear me about not babysitting?" He sat down on the other side of Weevil. "What do you want, Veronica? Hey, if he can't stay up for Asia Carerra, maybe he's better off out of his misery."
She spared a second to glare at him. "Nice, Logan."
"I'm just saying…" He spread his hands in a careless gesture and Veronica turned back to Weevil with an exasperated sigh.
"Well, we have to wake him up."
Logan leaned forward and poured another two shots. "Okay."
"Well, could you help for once?" She didn't really expect an answer. As he'd said before, he'd reached his limit on being a decent human being.
She felt a stinging splash of liquid and Weevil sputtered and sat up, swearing. "What the fuck, man?" he asked, glaring at Logan.
Logan looked sadly at the newly empty shot glass. "I just wasted good tequila on you, man. Wasn't my idea."
Weevil looked at Veronica accusingly. "Hey," she protested, wiping drops of tequila off her face. "I didn’t say we should play a drinking game on him, I said we needed to wake him up!"
Logan shrugged. "Worked, didn't it?" He swallowed the shot he hadn't thrown in Weevil's face, watching the movie with sudden interest.
Veronica shook her head. "Fine. You know what? I'll stay." She grabbed the shot Logan had poured for her earlier. She gestured at the TV angrily. "I'll watch this disgusting display of testosterone and I'll keep Weevil awake, because you're too self absorbed to finish what you started." She tossed down the shot in an act of defiance and almost ruined the effect by choking on it.
"Oh, really," he asked, suddenly mild and grinning. "And here I thought it was you that didn't finish what we started." He poured three more shots and sat back, proud and cruel.
"Hey, could you fight nice? I'm missing the best part," Weevil said mildly as he shifted forward. He flashed Veronica a look of something that might have been concern and she looked away. She couldn't deal with sympathy right now.
Veronica ground her teeth. No one had the ability to piss her off like Logan did. How dare he accuse her of not finishing-he was the one who had chosen his friends over her. He was the one who had refused to see his downward spiral as the disaster it was. He was the one who had ignored the fact that she was willing to love him if he'd meet her halfway…
Christ. She didn't want to think about this now. Not now.
She leaned forward and grabbed the next shot, swallowing it as fast as she could without choking on the burn.
She'd done a grand job of cutting him out of her life. And she was better for it, she knew she was. And so what if sometimes she missed him, and sometimes she wanted the good times back. She knew the bad came with the good, and she was better off without any of it.
She knew that.
Fuck.
She grabbed Weevil's shot of tequila and swallowed that, too, just for good measure. She told herself it would help drown out the theatric moans that were rapidly turning into surround-sound screams. But she sort of hoped it would drown out the memories, too.
Logan laughed as he poured the next round, swallowing his easily and passing her the other two shot glasses. "Another?" he asked, his eyes sparkling with the knowledge that he'd gotten to her.
"No. Thank. You." she said firmly. She sat back for another minute, fuming, and then leaned forward, tongue loosened by the alcohol she never should have drunk. "You know, you really are a total ass sometimes."
Logan grinned. "Why, thank you. I've worked hard to become so."
You knew things were bad when he started quoting The Princess Bride.
"Let me remind you, for just a second, that the reason we broke up was because you were an ass. Okay? So don't make it about my inability to finish. That was all you. I just put the final nail in the coffin you built."
The grin got wider. Triumphant. "My, don't you get theatric when you drink. If I'd known this before, I would have been sure to get you liquored up more often."
Fury lit her whole body and she stood, shaking, as the tequila burned through her veins. "Actually," she said, working to make each word precise. "You did get me liquored up. As you may recall, it did wonders for my reputation."
Weevil stood up when Logan did, and he looked at each of them in turn, obviously worried. "V? You okay?" he asked softly.
She realized she was crying. What the hell?
She wanted nothing more than to lean against Weevil and feel his arms around her. But she had no idea how he'd react to her leaning on him, and being rejected in front of Logan would be more insult than she could swallow tonight. And if he did what she wanted-put his arms around her and kissed her and told her it would be all right-well, wow, wouldn't that make things more complicated.
No, she really needed to deal with one fucked up relationship at a time.
She nodded. "Sit down, you need to rest," she said quietly, not taking her eyes off Logan. Weevil sat slowly, watching them both with narrowed eyes.
"Veronica, don't. Don't do this." It was Logan, and he was speaking softly and sounding hurt, and damn it, he wasn't allowed to do that! He wasn't allowed to make this about him. He was the one who'd been an ass.
"Fuck you, Logan. I don't want to talk about this. Any of it. We're over and I'm glad, and it's not just because of…of the party, or the pool or any of it. You just don't ever learn, and I refuse to live like that, waiting for the next shoe to drop. I mean, Jesus, Logan, Dick's stepmom?"
And a switch flipped, and suddenly he was angry, and she could breathe again. Pissed-off Logan, she could deal with.
"What do you care, Veronica? It doesn't matter, remember? You dumped me. You threw me out with the trash because you couldn't deal. And Kendall was way after we were over and you hated me. You're still so caught up on Duncan, still-Christ, Veronica! He's gone! And it wasn't just you he left, you know. It was me, too." He gestured wildly, and Veronica fought the need to duck away from his flying hands. "What the hell was I supposed to do? Wait for you? For however long it fucking took for you to realize that he's gone and I'm not?"
He grabbed her arms hard and hauled her forward, and it felt like an attack. But when his lips met hers, they were just as she remembered-soft and surprisingly gentle-and all the memories she'd been fighting to bury came flooding back.
She realized suddenly in a thrill of something that wasn't quite fear, that she wasn't going to stop. It was a terrible idea to let it happen, but she'd had too much to drink to remember all the reasons she shouldn't let herself lean on him, and not quite enough to convince herself it was out of her hands.
She saw Weevil move out of the corner of her eye and felt a sudden stab of concern. "Yeah," he said softly, "Think that's my cue to head to bed."
He started around the couch and Veronica tried to remind herself of her 'one fucked up relationship at a time' mantra.
No such luck. She pulled away from Logan for just a moment. Long enough to whisper, "Weevil, wait."
He looked at her over his shoulder, incredulous and bitter. "No way, V. I'll take my chances with the concussion."
She didn't know exactly what it was that made her turn to him, even though Logan was still nibbling at her neck. Maybe it was the pain in his voice, or the fact that she was afraid of what might happen if he left them alone, or just that she wanted him here, now, for whatever was going to happen. Whatever it was, she didn't want him to go.
"Please," she breathed, taking a step toward him, Logan trailing behind her. "Please stay. I can't…I don't… Don't leave."
He stepped toward her and she could see he was clenching his teeth. "Do you know what you're asking?" he said harshly.
She could see it, suddenly, the answer to the 'what-if' she'd been contemplating earlier. It was in his eyes, in the way they shifted from her eyes to her throat, to Logan where he hung behind her. He felt something for her, and, as confusing-as wrong as it was, she felt the same.
Funny what thinking someone was dead did for your evaluation of your relationship.
She nodded slowly and leaned forward to brush her lips lightly over his. "Please," she said again, softly.
Logan's voice was shaky in her ear. "What is this, Veronica?" She hadn't heard that vulnerability in his voice for a long, long time, and it confused her and scared her and reminded her that she missed him.
She closed her eyes, the alcohol heating her blood, his breath heating the rest of her, the memory of Weevil's lips making her dizzy. "I just…I'm really drunk right now."
"Is that why I'm here?" Weevil asked bitterly. "I'm supposed to referee, make sure things don't go too far? Because I'm not some guardian angel, V. I'm not your guy."
"Aren't you?" and as soon as it was out of her mouth, she knew it sounded wrong. She stepped forward before he could leave and put a hand on his arm. "Stay. Stay with us."
He examined her face closely and took her chin in his fingers. "Do you know what you're asking?" he repeated.
She swallowed and nodded. "Be with me," she whispered.
His dark eyes locked on hers as he closed the small distance between them, and her eyelids fluttered closed at the last second, just before he kissed her.
It was gentle, and she didn't know if it was because he was hurt or because he wanted it to be. She gasped when his tongue traced her lips, and whatever semblance of order there had been evaporated when she opened her mouth.
"Jesus, Veronica." It was Logan, and he was just beginning to get that sharp edge to his voice again. The one that said he hated her, just a little.
She knew how he felt. But she didn't want that armor right now. Maybe she'd need it again, later, but not now. She pulled back an inch, maybe two, and spoke over her shoulder. "Not tonight, Logan, okay? Just…come here."
He was still close behind her and she reached back to take his hand and pull him forward. There was the slightest resistance, and then he was flush against her back. "Is this what you want?" he asked quietly. "Really?"
She just nodded, slowly, looking into Weevil's eyes and trying not to think about what she was doing.
Logan's body heated hers as he lowered his lips to her throat, and she whimpered a little as Weevil moved closer and heat and sensation overwhelmed her.
It was too much, and it felt wrong and right and it made her ache in a way that made her feel alive and raw. It was dangerous, and it was one of those chances she wasn't sure she should take. But she'd almost lost one of them, tonight, and she didn't want to have to wonder.
She let them take the lead for the moment, giving up all her careful control and letting herself feel for both of them, knowing it was fucked up and messy and would no doubt cause trouble down the line.
Let Neptune and its class wars do their worst tomorrow.
Tonight was hers.
Author: shealynn88
Word Count: ~4000 words
Original Fic: The Fine Line Between Friends and Enemies
What If: What if Logan and Weevil decide that the perfect thing to keep them both awake is porn, no matter how much Veronica objects?
Characters/Pairings: Weevil/Veronica/Logan
Rating: R (language, some sexual content)
Spoilers/Warnings: Takes place after some of the events of Wallace and Rashard go to White Castle. Strong language, sexual content and innuendo. Also, LoVe.
Summary: Veronica goes looking for Weevil and finds him at Logan's. Porn gets watched. Snark and soul-searching ensue.
A/N: A rewrite for the what_if challenge. For the people who know me, I feel I should warn for serious LoVe content. Not my usual fare, and I don't want to scar you. Of course, knowing me, you can't have much of anything without some W/V as well…so it's all sorta muddled and smushed and cracktastic. Thanks to mandilyn for being a very patient sounding board. The cracktastic nature of the fic is not her fault. So when you find yourself going, WTF?, which you inevitably will, don't blame her.
Veronica's hands shook as she tried to find the right key. As much as she'd tried to take all the guess-work out of her life, all the things that made her vulnerable…as much as she'd tried to cut herself off and take what life threw at her…she'd failed, and here she was again, running behind and picking up the fractured pieces of people she called friends. Or, you know, 'partners-in-crime,' or 'bad-boy gang leaders who helped her out on occasion'…and now her train of thought was getting out of hand and she should really be focusing.
Veronica took a deep breath, hoping that Logan might have some idea what had happened to Weevil, and where she should start looking. She was afraid the answer would be, 'The River Styx'. Or worse, the Pacific Ocean.
She'd heard it on the scanner earlier-Weevil's bike had been found washed up on the beach. Lamb's cold voice had reported the bike's condition as destroyed, and then he'd rattled off the registration to one Eli 'Weevil' Navarro. She'd sat for a long moment on the edge of her bed, numb and shocked and desperately worried.
Weevil had always been there. She'd never really examined it, never really looked too closely. Her life was complicated enough without putting the leader of the local biker gang into the equation. But with the possibility of death-by-Fitzpatrick echoing sharply in her ears, she realized suddenly what this loss would mean. When she needed someone she trusted, she called him. When she needed a break from the insanity of her life, she teased him. He was always there to lean on, to help out….
Until now.
She finally found the key that Duncan had given her so long ago-it seemed like a lifetime, now. So much had changed, too much and too little, all at once. She didn't have nearly enough armor built up to deal with this loss.
Please, let him be okay, she thought to herself as she unlocked the door to the apartment, hoping like hell that Logan didn't have one of his bimbos over…and trying not to think about the possibility that he might not be home at all. Because he and Weevil had been working together, and if the Fitzpatricks had discovered what they'd pulled at the confessional, Weevil wasn't the only one they'd be wanting a piece of…
She swallowed down another bout of worry turning to nausea. She wasn't going to think about that. Logan wasn't dead or beaten-she wasn't that lucky.
She hoped.
"Logan," she started as she opened the door. "They found Weevil's bike-"
She froze in the doorway when she saw the two of them. Weevil was sitting on the couch, looking a bit worse for wear, and Logan was clumsily wiping at his face with a washcloth. He looked…concerned. Between the fact that they were both alive and more-or-less well, and the fact that Logan looked like he was trying to take care of Weevil, Veronica was sure she'd died and this was the final, random firing of synapses. There was going to be a white light. Any minute now.
Any minute now.
But there wasn't, and she was forced to admit that this might actually be happening. "Weevil," she managed-fairly calmly, she thought, considering the circumstances. "You're okay." She took a few small steps, making sure her feet stayed under her. The floor stayed horizontal and navigable, and she stepped into the apartment with a little more confidence, scanning the doorway quickly. No feet with striped socks and ruby slippers to be seen.
So…still in Neptune.
She took a deep breath and pasted on a carefree smile, breezing toward the couch and kneeling. She didn't spare a look for Logan. She didn't want to deal with the sharp taunts if he saw her bone crushing relief. "Well, you look like hell. How do you feel?"
Weevil scowled. "How do you think I feel?"
"Isn't that a question for your therapist?" she quipped, covering her concern. Then she leaned forward, inspecting a cut over his temple. "Just answer the question. Have you blacked out at all? Double vision?"
"God help me if I start seeing two of you," he managed, wincing as she probed the wound.
She probed a little harder. "God help you if you keep making wise cracks instead of answering my questions."
"Ow! Damn! All right, all right! No blackouts, no double vision. I'm fine."
"Really? This is a nasty gash, Weevil. You could have a concussion and not even know it. No blurred vision or dizziness?"
He shook his head, looking irritated.
"You should still stay up for a while, just to be sure. If you have problems with your vision at all, or get nauseous…anything like that, you need to have this looked at." She stretched up to try to evaluate his pupils. "Let me see your eyes."
He laughed. "You know, tonight's not the best night for lines, V. Try again in a week, I'll be sure to give you your money's worth."
She grabbed his chin and made him look at her. His pupils were the same size. And his eyelashes were freakishly long. She had to use a heap of mascara to get eyelashes that looked anything like that-more proof that life was unfair. Way to stay focused, Mars.
Weevil removed her hand from his chin. "I'm fine," he repeated firmly.
"You keep touching him like that, I'm gonna get all jealous," Logan said. He waved a hand at both of them in dismissal. "He's fine. Really. He couldn't possibly have brain damage because I'm just not that lucky. And he's been an ungrateful shit since I hauled his ass here."
"Well, if you hadn't tried to clean my face with fucking peroxide-"
Veronica was grateful for the interruption when her cell phone rang. At least, she was until she saw who the caller was. "You boys battle it out, I'll be right back," she said, ignoring the escalating argument behind her as she moved to the other side of the room.
"Dad," she greeted cheerfully.
"Veronica. You remember that thing where we're rebuilding trust? You being out at…oh, midnight on a school night? Not helping."
She laughed nervously. "Um, yeah. Sorry."
"So?"
"So, I'll be home when I can?"
"What are you up to, Veronica? I'm not sure I want to know, but as your father, I really think I should."
"Well, currently, I’m stripping at a drunken party at the G-Spot. But things are winding down and they're not tipping very well anymore, so I should be home soon."
"Veronica," he said sternly.
She sighed. "Weevil got hurt. I just…I want to be sure he's okay before I go. That's all."
"Weevil. Again. Haven't I said something about you not hanging around with the local criminal element?"
"Actually, I think you had a problem with me smartening up the local criminal element. Right now, I'm just trying to keep him this side of healthy. Or at least, conscious."
"Sweetie, I love that you take care of people. I do. But I think it's time to come home, now. His family can take care of him."
"Well, I'm sure they could. But they don't happen to be here, and his current company isn't really trustworthy."
"And who is his current company?"
Oh, Veronica, good going. "Umm…Logan."
"Logan Echolls? You're with Logan Echolls and Eli Navarro?" He chuckled, his exasperated, 'I'm too tired to yell' chuckle. "Veronica, that's not funny. Where are you, really?"
She smiled weakly. "I'm at the Grand. With Logan and Weevil. It's no big deal, really."
"Why do I get a bad feeling every time you say that?"
"Dad, please."
He sighed his classic, long-suffering sigh. "So, I'm supposed to not worry because you're with Logan and Eli?"
"No, you're supposed to not worry because you know me and love me, and you know I can take care of myself."
"I know that?"
"Yes you do."
Another sigh. "Okay. I'll see you when you get in."
It was a threat, and a promise, but it was also an okay. She'd take it. "Thank you."
Veronica ended the call and wandered over to where the boys were watching TV and arguing good naturedly. It was odd to see them getting along so well. She kept expecting one of them to start a fist fight.
The cheesy music hit her a second before she was greeted by a full frontal view of one of the ugliest guys she'd ever had the misfortune to see. "Oh my god," she said, wincing. "Are you watching porn?"
Logan glanced over nonchalantly, but she could see the challenge in the slight sneer at the corner of his mouth. "Yeah. Is that a problem?"
"I think it kills brain cells."
Logan shrugged. "I think you can spare a few. Anyhow, I thought I'd leave it up to piñata boy, here."
Veronica turned to Weevil, raising an eyebrow. "This was your idea?"
He shrugged, laughing. "You said I should stay…up. Asia Carerra is pretty much guaranteed to do the job." A raised eyebrow emphasized the double meaning, and Veronica rolled her eyes.
"Drink?" Logan offered blandly before she could come up with a properly cutting response.
She looked over at the open bottle of tequila and the shot glasses in front of him. "Ah, no. Great idea, though. Alcohol and concussions go so well together."
Logan gave her a wide, sweet smile. "Well, it always worked for me. All natural pain-killer, you know." He poured three shots and slid them across the table, one for each of them.
"Apparently porn does kill brain cells," Veronica said, looking down at the shot in front of her. "Because here I was under the mistaken impression that you could count."
Logan tipped his shot back, followed shortly by Weevil. "What makes you think I can't?"
She shrugged. "Maybe it's your hearing. I said I didn't want a drink."
He licked his lips and gestured at the shot in front of her. "That? It's just in case."
"In case I decide I need a lobotomy?"
His smile was dangerously benign. "Something like that."
"Well, I hate to disappoint you, but I think I'm going to head out. Lobotomy free."
Logan shrugged, watching the movie. "'Kay. Just don't expect me to keep your boy awake. I did my good deed for the day when I scraped him off the pavement."
"And he's been so fucking gracious about it, too," Weevil said dryly, sounding less pissed off than Veronica would have expected. If they'd really decided to be friends after all this, she was going to have to revise her list of 'hell-freezing-over' indicators.
"Have a wonderful night with Asia," she told them. "I'm off."
Veronica got as far as the elevator before she realized she didn't have her keys, and she thought for a long moment before heading back to the apartment. When the choices were, walking home, calling her dad and explaining why she didn't want to go collect her keys, and braving the porn-fest…the porn-fest won by a very small margin.
She snuck back in, hoping her keys would be on the shelf near the door, allowing her to ignore the high-quality sounds (no doubt related to the high-def images) coming from the television set in the living room. No such luck.
Veronica gave up her stealthy practices and started talking loudly to herself as she approached the couch. "I know I left them here somewhere," she said, hoping that if coverage was needed, the boys would take the hint and not scar her for life.
She finally caught sight of her keys on the coffee table in front of Weevil, and made her way around the couch to collect them.
Logan smiled. "Miss us already?"
She returned the smile with lots of teeth. "Sorry to disappoint you, I just needed my keys."
She glanced over at Weevil on her way out, only to see that his head was tipped back and his eyes were closed.
"Jesus, Logan, didn't you hear me about him not sleeping?" She sat down on the couch and shook Weevil gently, trying not to hit any bruises.
Logan got up, looking down at the two of them. "Didn't you hear me about not babysitting?" He sat down on the other side of Weevil. "What do you want, Veronica? Hey, if he can't stay up for Asia Carerra, maybe he's better off out of his misery."
She spared a second to glare at him. "Nice, Logan."
"I'm just saying…" He spread his hands in a careless gesture and Veronica turned back to Weevil with an exasperated sigh.
"Well, we have to wake him up."
Logan leaned forward and poured another two shots. "Okay."
"Well, could you help for once?" She didn't really expect an answer. As he'd said before, he'd reached his limit on being a decent human being.
She felt a stinging splash of liquid and Weevil sputtered and sat up, swearing. "What the fuck, man?" he asked, glaring at Logan.
Logan looked sadly at the newly empty shot glass. "I just wasted good tequila on you, man. Wasn't my idea."
Weevil looked at Veronica accusingly. "Hey," she protested, wiping drops of tequila off her face. "I didn’t say we should play a drinking game on him, I said we needed to wake him up!"
Logan shrugged. "Worked, didn't it?" He swallowed the shot he hadn't thrown in Weevil's face, watching the movie with sudden interest.
Veronica shook her head. "Fine. You know what? I'll stay." She grabbed the shot Logan had poured for her earlier. She gestured at the TV angrily. "I'll watch this disgusting display of testosterone and I'll keep Weevil awake, because you're too self absorbed to finish what you started." She tossed down the shot in an act of defiance and almost ruined the effect by choking on it.
"Oh, really," he asked, suddenly mild and grinning. "And here I thought it was you that didn't finish what we started." He poured three more shots and sat back, proud and cruel.
"Hey, could you fight nice? I'm missing the best part," Weevil said mildly as he shifted forward. He flashed Veronica a look of something that might have been concern and she looked away. She couldn't deal with sympathy right now.
Veronica ground her teeth. No one had the ability to piss her off like Logan did. How dare he accuse her of not finishing-he was the one who had chosen his friends over her. He was the one who had refused to see his downward spiral as the disaster it was. He was the one who had ignored the fact that she was willing to love him if he'd meet her halfway…
Christ. She didn't want to think about this now. Not now.
She leaned forward and grabbed the next shot, swallowing it as fast as she could without choking on the burn.
She'd done a grand job of cutting him out of her life. And she was better for it, she knew she was. And so what if sometimes she missed him, and sometimes she wanted the good times back. She knew the bad came with the good, and she was better off without any of it.
She knew that.
Fuck.
She grabbed Weevil's shot of tequila and swallowed that, too, just for good measure. She told herself it would help drown out the theatric moans that were rapidly turning into surround-sound screams. But she sort of hoped it would drown out the memories, too.
Logan laughed as he poured the next round, swallowing his easily and passing her the other two shot glasses. "Another?" he asked, his eyes sparkling with the knowledge that he'd gotten to her.
"No. Thank. You." she said firmly. She sat back for another minute, fuming, and then leaned forward, tongue loosened by the alcohol she never should have drunk. "You know, you really are a total ass sometimes."
Logan grinned. "Why, thank you. I've worked hard to become so."
You knew things were bad when he started quoting The Princess Bride.
"Let me remind you, for just a second, that the reason we broke up was because you were an ass. Okay? So don't make it about my inability to finish. That was all you. I just put the final nail in the coffin you built."
The grin got wider. Triumphant. "My, don't you get theatric when you drink. If I'd known this before, I would have been sure to get you liquored up more often."
Fury lit her whole body and she stood, shaking, as the tequila burned through her veins. "Actually," she said, working to make each word precise. "You did get me liquored up. As you may recall, it did wonders for my reputation."
Weevil stood up when Logan did, and he looked at each of them in turn, obviously worried. "V? You okay?" he asked softly.
She realized she was crying. What the hell?
She wanted nothing more than to lean against Weevil and feel his arms around her. But she had no idea how he'd react to her leaning on him, and being rejected in front of Logan would be more insult than she could swallow tonight. And if he did what she wanted-put his arms around her and kissed her and told her it would be all right-well, wow, wouldn't that make things more complicated.
No, she really needed to deal with one fucked up relationship at a time.
She nodded. "Sit down, you need to rest," she said quietly, not taking her eyes off Logan. Weevil sat slowly, watching them both with narrowed eyes.
"Veronica, don't. Don't do this." It was Logan, and he was speaking softly and sounding hurt, and damn it, he wasn't allowed to do that! He wasn't allowed to make this about him. He was the one who'd been an ass.
"Fuck you, Logan. I don't want to talk about this. Any of it. We're over and I'm glad, and it's not just because of…of the party, or the pool or any of it. You just don't ever learn, and I refuse to live like that, waiting for the next shoe to drop. I mean, Jesus, Logan, Dick's stepmom?"
And a switch flipped, and suddenly he was angry, and she could breathe again. Pissed-off Logan, she could deal with.
"What do you care, Veronica? It doesn't matter, remember? You dumped me. You threw me out with the trash because you couldn't deal. And Kendall was way after we were over and you hated me. You're still so caught up on Duncan, still-Christ, Veronica! He's gone! And it wasn't just you he left, you know. It was me, too." He gestured wildly, and Veronica fought the need to duck away from his flying hands. "What the hell was I supposed to do? Wait for you? For however long it fucking took for you to realize that he's gone and I'm not?"
He grabbed her arms hard and hauled her forward, and it felt like an attack. But when his lips met hers, they were just as she remembered-soft and surprisingly gentle-and all the memories she'd been fighting to bury came flooding back.
She realized suddenly in a thrill of something that wasn't quite fear, that she wasn't going to stop. It was a terrible idea to let it happen, but she'd had too much to drink to remember all the reasons she shouldn't let herself lean on him, and not quite enough to convince herself it was out of her hands.
She saw Weevil move out of the corner of her eye and felt a sudden stab of concern. "Yeah," he said softly, "Think that's my cue to head to bed."
He started around the couch and Veronica tried to remind herself of her 'one fucked up relationship at a time' mantra.
No such luck. She pulled away from Logan for just a moment. Long enough to whisper, "Weevil, wait."
He looked at her over his shoulder, incredulous and bitter. "No way, V. I'll take my chances with the concussion."
She didn't know exactly what it was that made her turn to him, even though Logan was still nibbling at her neck. Maybe it was the pain in his voice, or the fact that she was afraid of what might happen if he left them alone, or just that she wanted him here, now, for whatever was going to happen. Whatever it was, she didn't want him to go.
"Please," she breathed, taking a step toward him, Logan trailing behind her. "Please stay. I can't…I don't… Don't leave."
He stepped toward her and she could see he was clenching his teeth. "Do you know what you're asking?" he said harshly.
She could see it, suddenly, the answer to the 'what-if' she'd been contemplating earlier. It was in his eyes, in the way they shifted from her eyes to her throat, to Logan where he hung behind her. He felt something for her, and, as confusing-as wrong as it was, she felt the same.
Funny what thinking someone was dead did for your evaluation of your relationship.
She nodded slowly and leaned forward to brush her lips lightly over his. "Please," she said again, softly.
Logan's voice was shaky in her ear. "What is this, Veronica?" She hadn't heard that vulnerability in his voice for a long, long time, and it confused her and scared her and reminded her that she missed him.
She closed her eyes, the alcohol heating her blood, his breath heating the rest of her, the memory of Weevil's lips making her dizzy. "I just…I'm really drunk right now."
"Is that why I'm here?" Weevil asked bitterly. "I'm supposed to referee, make sure things don't go too far? Because I'm not some guardian angel, V. I'm not your guy."
"Aren't you?" and as soon as it was out of her mouth, she knew it sounded wrong. She stepped forward before he could leave and put a hand on his arm. "Stay. Stay with us."
He examined her face closely and took her chin in his fingers. "Do you know what you're asking?" he repeated.
She swallowed and nodded. "Be with me," she whispered.
His dark eyes locked on hers as he closed the small distance between them, and her eyelids fluttered closed at the last second, just before he kissed her.
It was gentle, and she didn't know if it was because he was hurt or because he wanted it to be. She gasped when his tongue traced her lips, and whatever semblance of order there had been evaporated when she opened her mouth.
"Jesus, Veronica." It was Logan, and he was just beginning to get that sharp edge to his voice again. The one that said he hated her, just a little.
She knew how he felt. But she didn't want that armor right now. Maybe she'd need it again, later, but not now. She pulled back an inch, maybe two, and spoke over her shoulder. "Not tonight, Logan, okay? Just…come here."
He was still close behind her and she reached back to take his hand and pull him forward. There was the slightest resistance, and then he was flush against her back. "Is this what you want?" he asked quietly. "Really?"
She just nodded, slowly, looking into Weevil's eyes and trying not to think about what she was doing.
Logan's body heated hers as he lowered his lips to her throat, and she whimpered a little as Weevil moved closer and heat and sensation overwhelmed her.
It was too much, and it felt wrong and right and it made her ache in a way that made her feel alive and raw. It was dangerous, and it was one of those chances she wasn't sure she should take. But she'd almost lost one of them, tonight, and she didn't want to have to wonder.
She let them take the lead for the moment, giving up all her careful control and letting herself feel for both of them, knowing it was fucked up and messy and would no doubt cause trouble down the line.
Let Neptune and its class wars do their worst tomorrow.
Tonight was hers.