A/N The first part is mostly review, the second is Veronica/Logan interaction, and the third is straight-up smut. The fourth will be even more smut. The fifth will be fluffy fluffy smut. And some more fluff. No angst for these two in this fic.
Veronica is back to square one.
Or maybe she's not even on the board anymore.
Bottom line, walking in the rain on the first day of summer can't mean there's luck in her future and she is all too familiar with bad omens.
The last three years of ups and downs have resulted in one huge dip into the unknown and lost. She should feel scared but the truth? This is where Veronica is most at home.
She's learned to settle into the dust instead of trying to climb out. Here in the ruins is where she can find true shelter.
And now that a year of violence and heartache is over, she'll lick her wounds for a while.
FLASHBACK TO YESTERDAY
Piz sidles up next to Veronica. He averts his eyes from both her gaze and from the bloody mess below them. She opens her mouth but he stops her.
"I know. I saw it. You saw it. You saw me see it. The only person who didn't see it was Logan but I'm pretty sure he was banking on this before he even walked in here. You don't have to add words to this. You can just let it be over and—"
"I have just as much a right to speak as you, Piz."
"By all means," he mutters, "the floor is yours."
"Actually," Veronica lets out a small laugh, "The floor is his." She shakes her head, still in disbelief at what had happened a few moments earlier. "And Logan is the reason that heap of asshole is lying there in front of us."
As if on cue, Gorya groans and coughs.
"So, you're impressed by that?"
"Yes." She straightens and looks directly at the boy standing in front of her. "I am. He didn't come in here banking on breaking us up. He came to apologize to me, to you."
"An apology for beating me to a pulp right after beating some other dude to a pulp? Seems like his actions are speaking louder than his words here. But hey," Piz gives her two thumbs up, "at least he picked the right guy this time."
A small crowd gathers around Gorya, who's currently busy wiping the blood from his face.
Some of these people had witnessed Logan pick up the grown man as if he was a scrawny kid and throw him across a table.
Strangers were watching when her ex-boyfriend punched a mobster's son across the face, then yanked him back by his shirt collar for another strike and another and another.
A few of her fellow college students gasped when Gorya tried to get up, just before Logan kicked him back down to Veronica's feet and asked if she wanted an apology.
She can't push away the feeling that these people had intruded on something intimate.
Hoping to avoid another spectacle, Veronica motions for Piz to follow her to a quieter area of the cafeteria.
"Logan wanted to hurt who hurt me. He had it wrong the first time, but it wasn't about you. It was about me. His trigger is to protect the ones he loves." The fluttering in her stomach acts up for the second time that day.
Breaking her gaze from the cafeteria doors Logan disappeared through a few minutes ago, Veronica catches the tail end of Piz rolling his eyes.
"And what, his shining armor makes up for all of the violence? Is that how you make allowances for him?"
"No," Veronica maintains her patient tone, "this isn't as simple as a damsel in distress and her hero. His family, his past, you don't know him the way I do." An image of Lynn Echolls' abandoned red convertible pops into Veronica's mind, followed by Aaron standing over Trina's beaten and bloodied boyfriend with a belt in his hand. Allowances for violence? Check.
Piz purses his lips and nods bitterly. "I've read the headlines. How many times has he been in jail again?"
"As many times as I've helped clear his name." She pauses and thinks back for a moment, "A couple of times, I actually referred his name to the cops but..." She wipes the smile off her face when she notices Piz is unimpressed.
"Seems by your utter defense of him, it's going to end very well for you two. Good to know his sending me to the hospital ranked high on your list of concerns."
"Excuse me?" Veronica can't help raising her voice. "When I found out what he did to you, I was ready to cut him out. Someone who has been there for me for years, someone who would do anything for me." Her voice softens and she looks away. "Someone who has already done so much."
"And what changed?" Piz is harsher now. "His little display of muscle was enough to get you to forgive him? Wow, I guess that sort of thing really does work with college girls."
"If you think I'm that easy to pigeon hole, you don't understand what's going on here at all."
"No, I do. At least, I understand what's going on between the two of you." He pauses and they glare at each other. Veronica dares him to open his mouth and he looks ready to spit venom.
After a beat, Piz scans her face and softens. "What really gets me is that I don't understand you. We've known each other for so long and when I'm with you, I still feel like we should be talking about the weather or our hobbies." All of the defensive bitterness has drained from his face and he looks so sad she can't make eye contact.
The moment stretches out and Veronica finally says, "How about them Padres?" She's hoping for a laugh but the same puppy dog eyes stare back at her.
Piz opens his mouth a few times to speak before finally deciding on the words to say. "If I admit the truth, it means we're over. And I'm a selfish jerk. I don't want that, Veronica."
"Is this the part where you tell me it's not you, it's me?"
"No. This is the part where the placeholder guy is dismissed by the heroine for her true leading man. Because…" Piz runs his fingers through his hair, all sorrow and vulnerability.
"...Because I still have feelings for Logan." Veronica finishes, saving the boy in front of her the pain of spelling it out. She may as well take ownership of her heart before breaking his.
He's about to turn and walk away but stops. "One last thing. As a friend, I'm worried for you. Look at my face, Veronica." She winces. "Tell me this doesn't scare you."
She reaches her hand up to brushs his cheek and immediately retracts her arm because the gesture already feels foreign.
"It does scare me…"
Veronica doesn't mention the reason his black and blue bruises frighten her so deeply is because she can think only of Logan's fists behind Piz's pain.
Her feelings of dread, the ones that make her want to run for cover, aren't caused by Logan's explosive nature nor by his possible self-destruction. No, the seed of fear stems from Veronica's inevitable, unapologetic surrender to him. Before Logan, she didn't know it was possible to devour every aspect of a person and still want more to consume.
As Veronica tries to say goodbye to the boyfriend in front of her, the wheels in her mind turn for another man. The guilt stings, then sharpens when she looks again at Piz's swollen face.
Their eyes met and she lets a tear fall. He wipes it away with his thumb and keeps his hand on her cheek.
She clears her throat. "You have been a friend to me all year. We have fun, Piz. Be it trying to find your stolen goods or sorting out a musician's mid-life crisis." The last sentence ends in a relieving exhale of laughter for both of them.
Piz searches her eyes one last time. He must not find what he's looking for. Dropping his hand from her face, he gives her a dejected nod and walks away.
In the last half hour, Veronica has watched two ex-boyfriends leave through the cateria's double doors. Piz's turned back is different from Logan's, though. This time, there's no voice in her head urging Veronica to call him back. She's not restraining herself from running to follow. She's not imagining a kiss tasting of blood, nor is she picturing large, shredded hands pulling her close.
Reading the back of Piz's neck tells her nothing. Veronica wonders if it ever did.
Downtown Neptune, 4:07 p.m.
The past hour spent ambling down memory lane has proven to be just what she needs. Icy raindrops mixed with hot tears are one way to clear a jumbled mind. Taking a deep breath, Veronica runs her hands through smooth, soaked hair, and turns around to face the world anew.
Her fingers are numb when she pulls the keys from her jacket pocket.
Once inside the car, Veronica slams the door closed and turns the ignition. Cold air blasts her face because it's summer and the AC is automatically set to 'MAX'. She had no idea the weather would be imitating her inner turmoil today?
Veronica pulls onto the street and her cell buzzes with a text from Mac. Flipping open the phone in one hand and holding the steering wheel with the other, she darts her glance between the message and the windshield.
Calling all Veronicas…
The traffic ahead is coming to a slow stop so she presses her foot down on the break pedal. Blurry red lights shine through the rain-streaked glass.
Your expertise is needed to solve-
A yellow X-Terra is on her right. Veronica knows it's not his and she blames force of habit when she cranes her neck to glimpse the driver's seat. A redhead holds a compact mirror and applies mascara.
-the mystery of how I still haven't packed my dorm room.
Veronica quickly presses the brakes because the red lights are filling her windshield. No bump, no crash, she's safe. She looks back at the phone.
Help me with the chore and I'll be forever indebted to-
The phone flies from Veronica's hands and her body slams forward against the tight seatbelt. A second later she's thrown backwards, unable to catch her breath. The ringing in her ears fades and Veronica carefully veers to the side of the road.
As soon as she turns off the ignition, there's a knock at her window and she unbuckles her belt, then opens the door. A short, bald man is standing outside her car, wringing his hands.
"You okay?" He mutters.
Raising her voice over the sound of tires and rain on pavement, Veronica says, "Yeah," and gets out of her Saturn. "Just trying to catch my breath."
The guy is pacing back and forth. "You stopped so suddenly and I didn't have time to brake!"
"That's the thing about traffic," she retorts, "it's kind of stop-go."
Veronica moves past him to assess the smashed in bumper. Rolling her eyes, she walks back to the drivers seat to grab her phone, surprised to hear it buzzing on the dashboard.
Logan Echolls is calling
She answers the phone and speaks smoothly. "Why does it feel like you always know when I'm in trouble?"
"Random chance improved greatly by you always being in some sort of trouble. Also, look to your left."
Veronica spots Logan through the window of his Range Rover, stopped directly behind the yellow X-Terra.
"Or maybe improved greatly by you keeping tabs on me. What are the chances that you would see my first fender bender?"
"Keeping tabs is your expertise, Veronica."
She watches his face behind the rain streaked glass, unable to tell if he's joking or serious. One of the many problems of having a consistently sarcastic boyfriend. Ex-boyfriend.
Logan's mouth is moving and she realizes there must be a lag between their phones when his voice comes a few seconds later.
"I'm pulling over up ahead. Don't go anywhere, I'll drive you home."
Behind her, the short man is also on the phone, saying things like 'another dumb blonde' and 'not my fault she's new to driving'.
She sighs. "Logan, I need to stay here and deal with this."
"Fine, we will." He hangs up the phone. The next number she dials is her father's. After leaving him a voicemail, she goes back to the glove box with her insurance information.
"So, blondie. Wanna explain why you stopped so suddenly?"
"No, baldie, how about you explain why you hit my car. The law is to have enough room between your car and the person you're driving behind so you can stop before hitting them."
He is about to interrupt when she continues. "I stopped without crashing into anyone's bumper. You, on the other hand-"
"Didn't." Logan finishes. Veronica turns her head to find him standing beside her.
The rain has picked up again and their eyes meet, hers bright blue in the daylight, his deep brown.
Logan moves between Veronica and her bumper car buddy, towering over both of them. He glances from one to another with a smile.
"Who are you?" The man looks him up and down, all 6 feet of him. Veronica almost laughs when Logans puffs out his muscled chest.
He crosses his flexed arms with faux seriousness and says, "Why, I'm just a concerned citizen."
Her gaze drifts from his bruised cheek bones and swollen lip to his bloodied knuckles. She and the stranger seem to snap out of their oggling at the same time.
The increasingly grumpy man shakes his head and mutters to himself before walking back to his car, searching through the glove box.
Pursing her lips in an attempt to hide a smile, Veronica says, "You know, I don't think minor accidents need witnesses."
"Well, you're the detective. If anyone should appreciate a solid first hand account of the situation, I thought it would be Chief Mars."
Veronica raises her eyebrows at him.
He rubs the nape of his neck, adding, "I'm talking about the younger Mars. Less bald, more feminine."
"I think that's the first time you've ever called me feminine."
Logan shrugs. "It's all relative. In this case, to your very own relative."
"Clever." She can't help the smile spreading over her face. It must be contagious because Logan's grinning, too.
The short man's mustache twitches when he hands over his insurance card to Veronica. While she takes down the info of a one Stanley Hubrink, Logan dials a number and murmurs into the phone.
After they hand their cards back to each other, Hubrink omits a few more grumbles and belabored sighs, then shuffles quickly back to his car.
"See ya, Stan!" Veronica calls after him as he drives off, noting that his car seems to be fine while hers is in need of a brand new bumper.
"All right, thanks." Logan hangs up and slips his cell phone into his back pocket.
Turning to Veronica, he claps his hands and says, "Well, someone is on their way to deal with the car. I'll give you a ride from here."
Logan's already walking towards his car when she shouts after him, "I can drive it myself, you know."
He turns back to look at her as the rain falls between them. He's silent, so she continues.
"The car's not that badly damaged, you don't need to completely take over the situation just because you're here." Veronica cringes at the the bite in her voice, but she can't help it. Piz's insinuation of Logan being her white knight is still fresh in her mind. She'd be damned if she was going to play the damsel in distress right now.
"Yeah, okay." Logan looks down, chastened. Veronica wonders how this wall of a man with marks from his last fight can dissolves so easily into a broken ten-year-old boy.
"But…" She allows herself a small smile and continues, "I am glad you're here."
He steps forward and says carefully, "Yeah? Well, can I follow you home to make sure you get there okay?" His words are deliberate and careful, as if he's trying hard to illicit the right response.
She bristles at the way Logan treats her like a fidgety mouse.
Then, he pulls his sleeves nervously over his hands and Veronica wonders if instead he's the fragile creature, attempting to talk down a lion.