Fic: Riding In Cars With Boys (Keith, Logan) PG-13
Title: Riding In Cars With Boys
Author: sadiekate
Characters/Pairing: Logan, Keith
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1200ish
Summary: Keith and Logan go on a road trip.
Spoilers/Warning: Through 2.10.
Author's Note: Credit goes to bluestargirl6 for the inspiration. Thanks to ladydisdain225 for betaing and coming up with great ideas on how to make this better, very few of which I was able to utilize, because I am doped up on cold medicine. Thanks also to mutinousmuse for betaing and title guidance. Written for the vmfanficutopia challenge. Soon to be x-posted to fic_from_mars and veronicamarsfic.
Keith Mars didn’t ride in a lot of convertibles. If he did, perhaps he would have thought to bring sunscreen. He could feel the sun beating down on top of his balding - no, not, balding, just follilucarly-challenged - head. He felt indignant - he really should have been warned. He liked being prepared for things, but he hadn’t considered sunburned scalp a possibility. But riding in a convertible wasn’t any kind of usual thing.
Especially not when Logan Echolls was sitting in the passenger seat.
Speaking of Logan Echolls - Keith looked over to see him dozing off, and he jabbed him with a well-placed elbow. The kid startled awake, wiping at the drool on his chin.
“What the fuck?” Logan griped, rolling his head around, popping his neck a little.
“Sorry, driving cramp,” Keith said with cheerful insincerity. “Wow, I forgot how long it takes to drive from Vegas to Neptune.”
“I could take a turn behind the wheel,” Logan offered with a lazy smirk. “After all, I did pay for the rental car.”
Keith hadn’t forgotten. Logan was the one who had insisted on this over-compensatory testosterone-mobile. Something about fresh air being the best cure for a hangover. Keith suspected it would just be easier for the kid to lean out the window and puke when the tequila started to wear off.
“No, that’s all right,” Keith said. “If you’re going to kill yourself driving drunk, I’d prefer to not be in the vehicle with you. I’m too pretty to die.”
“Well, in that case ...” Logan reached into his jacket and pulled out a flask. Before he could unscrew the cap, Keith snatched it out of his hand and flung it out the window.
“Hey, what’s your problem?” Logan protested. “That flask was sterling silver.”
“Underage drinking is illegal.”
“So is littering,” Logan sputtered.
“I’ll buy you a new one for your twenty-first birthday,” Keith promised. “Assuming you live that long.”
“Wow, you really seem fixated on my death, considering I’m not still dating your daughter. I figured all of my bad qualities would have faded into the distant recesses of your memory, now that her current boytoy has fathered a child with a dead girl.”
“At least he didn’t break my favorite lamp.”
“If I would have known it meant that much to you, I would have gone to Goodwill and picked up a replacement,” Logan spit out.
“Oh come on, big spender,” Keith chided. “I won’t settle for anything less than Target.”
Logan subsided into a sulky silence for a while. Keith pondered flipping on the radio, but he already had a raging headache. After a few minutes, Logan coughed a little, and when Keith spared him a look, he was smacking his lips together.
“Cotton mouth from the tequila,” Logan grudgingly admitted, catching Keith’s glance.
“There’s some bottled water in the glove box. I picked it up when I stopped for gas an hour ago.”
Logan quirked an eyebrow, then reached into the glove box and pulled out the bottle. He took a long pull, and regarded it in surprise.
“It’s still cold,” he said, looking bemusedly around the desert landscape, as if he expected to suddenly find them in Antarctica or something.
“Yeah, the glove box has air conditioning,” Keith exclaimed, unable to fully contain his glee. “Best thing about this car. I wish all the escaped felons I tracked were courteous enough to spring for such a sweet ride.”
“For starters, I am not an escaped felon. I am merely violating the conditions of my bail -“
“Tomato, tomahto,” Keith interjected.
“And second - dude, I rented you a fucking sports car, and the best thing you can say about it is that it has an air conditioned glove box?”
“You don’t get that feature in a Buick LeSabre,” Keith protested.
“Okay, I guess it is pretty cool,” Logan conceded.
The silence this time wasn’t as uneasy, but Keith couldn’t resist prodding again. He liked poking at things. He was one of those people who always ran their tongues over cuts on the inside of the mouths, so they took even longer to heal. He suspected Logan was the same way, though Keith, at least, could blame his tendency on years of being an investigator. Occupational hazard, and all that.
“So, why exactly are you violating the conditions of your bail?”
“Better than going to AP Physics,” Logan shrugged.
“I’m asking a serious question, here.”
“I didn’t know you cared.”
Keith shot him another exasperated look, and Logan sighed.
“I just ... I couldn’t handle being in Neptune anymore, you know? I should have left after they decided not to press charges. I could have started over somewhere else. I don’t know why I stayed.”
“Veronica,” Keith was surprised to hear himself say.
“Yeah, Veronica. I couldn’t leave her.” Logan said, the words twisting and spilling bitterly out of his mouth. “But I guess I should have done it before she left me.”
“You say that like you gave her any choice in the matter. If you think that didn’t absolutely wreck her, then you’re a bigger idiot than I thought.”
“And if you think I don’t know that I screwed up, then you’re an idiot, too,” Logan shot back.
“Ooh, I’m an idiot, too? Nice comeback, kid.”
Logan gaped at him for a moment, and then they both started laughing.
“Sorry, I guess I didn’t exactly bring my A-game,” Logan said mirthfully.
“Well, quit drinking enough to kill all your brain cells, and maybe you’ll be able to keep up.”
“Sure, since you and I are totally going to go on a road trip every other weekend now,” Logan scoffed.
“Probably not,” Keith said mildly. “But as long as you don’t have any children running around, I wouldn’t be surprised to see you and Veronica spending a little more time together. I might even revoke my ban on letting you into the apartment.”
“Really?”
“Well, I might let you on the front porch.”
“Fair enough,” Logan nodded, grinning.
The car started making a high-pitched beeping noise, and they exchanged an anxious look. Keith reached over to fiddle with the radio.
“What the hell?” he muttered, just as he felt a hand grip his shoulder and shake him.
“Dad, your alarm has been going off for like, twenty minutes. Are you okay?”
Keith looked around to find himself in his own bed, sheets and blanket tossed to the ground. Veronica stood over him, a bathrobe pulled over her pajamas. She looked at him warily.
“Sorry, sweetheart. I must have had a bad dream. Everything’s okay.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. I’ve forgotten it already.” Keith shot his daughter an unconvincing smile, and she shrugged and left the room.
Like he was going to be able to forget dreams about bonding with that Echolls kid like they were in a buddy movie or something. Keith was definitely going to have to lay off the bratwurst before bedtime.
He also should probably think about encouraging Veronica to apply for some all-women’s colleges.
Author: sadiekate
Characters/Pairing: Logan, Keith
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1200ish
Summary: Keith and Logan go on a road trip.
Spoilers/Warning: Through 2.10.
Author's Note: Credit goes to bluestargirl6 for the inspiration. Thanks to ladydisdain225 for betaing and coming up with great ideas on how to make this better, very few of which I was able to utilize, because I am doped up on cold medicine. Thanks also to mutinousmuse for betaing and title guidance. Written for the vmfanficutopia challenge. Soon to be x-posted to fic_from_mars and veronicamarsfic.
Keith Mars didn’t ride in a lot of convertibles. If he did, perhaps he would have thought to bring sunscreen. He could feel the sun beating down on top of his balding - no, not, balding, just follilucarly-challenged - head. He felt indignant - he really should have been warned. He liked being prepared for things, but he hadn’t considered sunburned scalp a possibility. But riding in a convertible wasn’t any kind of usual thing.
Especially not when Logan Echolls was sitting in the passenger seat.
Speaking of Logan Echolls - Keith looked over to see him dozing off, and he jabbed him with a well-placed elbow. The kid startled awake, wiping at the drool on his chin.
“What the fuck?” Logan griped, rolling his head around, popping his neck a little.
“Sorry, driving cramp,” Keith said with cheerful insincerity. “Wow, I forgot how long it takes to drive from Vegas to Neptune.”
“I could take a turn behind the wheel,” Logan offered with a lazy smirk. “After all, I did pay for the rental car.”
Keith hadn’t forgotten. Logan was the one who had insisted on this over-compensatory testosterone-mobile. Something about fresh air being the best cure for a hangover. Keith suspected it would just be easier for the kid to lean out the window and puke when the tequila started to wear off.
“No, that’s all right,” Keith said. “If you’re going to kill yourself driving drunk, I’d prefer to not be in the vehicle with you. I’m too pretty to die.”
“Well, in that case ...” Logan reached into his jacket and pulled out a flask. Before he could unscrew the cap, Keith snatched it out of his hand and flung it out the window.
“Hey, what’s your problem?” Logan protested. “That flask was sterling silver.”
“Underage drinking is illegal.”
“So is littering,” Logan sputtered.
“I’ll buy you a new one for your twenty-first birthday,” Keith promised. “Assuming you live that long.”
“Wow, you really seem fixated on my death, considering I’m not still dating your daughter. I figured all of my bad qualities would have faded into the distant recesses of your memory, now that her current boytoy has fathered a child with a dead girl.”
“At least he didn’t break my favorite lamp.”
“If I would have known it meant that much to you, I would have gone to Goodwill and picked up a replacement,” Logan spit out.
“Oh come on, big spender,” Keith chided. “I won’t settle for anything less than Target.”
Logan subsided into a sulky silence for a while. Keith pondered flipping on the radio, but he already had a raging headache. After a few minutes, Logan coughed a little, and when Keith spared him a look, he was smacking his lips together.
“Cotton mouth from the tequila,” Logan grudgingly admitted, catching Keith’s glance.
“There’s some bottled water in the glove box. I picked it up when I stopped for gas an hour ago.”
Logan quirked an eyebrow, then reached into the glove box and pulled out the bottle. He took a long pull, and regarded it in surprise.
“It’s still cold,” he said, looking bemusedly around the desert landscape, as if he expected to suddenly find them in Antarctica or something.
“Yeah, the glove box has air conditioning,” Keith exclaimed, unable to fully contain his glee. “Best thing about this car. I wish all the escaped felons I tracked were courteous enough to spring for such a sweet ride.”
“For starters, I am not an escaped felon. I am merely violating the conditions of my bail -“
“Tomato, tomahto,” Keith interjected.
“And second - dude, I rented you a fucking sports car, and the best thing you can say about it is that it has an air conditioned glove box?”
“You don’t get that feature in a Buick LeSabre,” Keith protested.
“Okay, I guess it is pretty cool,” Logan conceded.
The silence this time wasn’t as uneasy, but Keith couldn’t resist prodding again. He liked poking at things. He was one of those people who always ran their tongues over cuts on the inside of the mouths, so they took even longer to heal. He suspected Logan was the same way, though Keith, at least, could blame his tendency on years of being an investigator. Occupational hazard, and all that.
“So, why exactly are you violating the conditions of your bail?”
“Better than going to AP Physics,” Logan shrugged.
“I’m asking a serious question, here.”
“I didn’t know you cared.”
Keith shot him another exasperated look, and Logan sighed.
“I just ... I couldn’t handle being in Neptune anymore, you know? I should have left after they decided not to press charges. I could have started over somewhere else. I don’t know why I stayed.”
“Veronica,” Keith was surprised to hear himself say.
“Yeah, Veronica. I couldn’t leave her.” Logan said, the words twisting and spilling bitterly out of his mouth. “But I guess I should have done it before she left me.”
“You say that like you gave her any choice in the matter. If you think that didn’t absolutely wreck her, then you’re a bigger idiot than I thought.”
“And if you think I don’t know that I screwed up, then you’re an idiot, too,” Logan shot back.
“Ooh, I’m an idiot, too? Nice comeback, kid.”
Logan gaped at him for a moment, and then they both started laughing.
“Sorry, I guess I didn’t exactly bring my A-game,” Logan said mirthfully.
“Well, quit drinking enough to kill all your brain cells, and maybe you’ll be able to keep up.”
“Sure, since you and I are totally going to go on a road trip every other weekend now,” Logan scoffed.
“Probably not,” Keith said mildly. “But as long as you don’t have any children running around, I wouldn’t be surprised to see you and Veronica spending a little more time together. I might even revoke my ban on letting you into the apartment.”
“Really?”
“Well, I might let you on the front porch.”
“Fair enough,” Logan nodded, grinning.
The car started making a high-pitched beeping noise, and they exchanged an anxious look. Keith reached over to fiddle with the radio.
“What the hell?” he muttered, just as he felt a hand grip his shoulder and shake him.
“Dad, your alarm has been going off for like, twenty minutes. Are you okay?”
Keith looked around to find himself in his own bed, sheets and blanket tossed to the ground. Veronica stood over him, a bathrobe pulled over her pajamas. She looked at him warily.
“Sorry, sweetheart. I must have had a bad dream. Everything’s okay.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. I’ve forgotten it already.” Keith shot his daughter an unconvincing smile, and she shrugged and left the room.
Like he was going to be able to forget dreams about bonding with that Echolls kid like they were in a buddy movie or something. Keith was definitely going to have to lay off the bratwurst before bedtime.
He also should probably think about encouraging Veronica to apply for some all-women’s colleges.