Title: Riding in Cars with Strange Girls
Author: Nicole
Rating: T, because Logan has a potty-mouth
Summary: After spending the summer as far away as Neptune as he could get, Logan attempts to come back just days before both school and the biggest murder trial of the year begin. Unfortunately, to avoid being forced out of hiding, Logan accepts help from a perfect stranger who is more connected to Logan than he realizes.
Paring: Slight Logan/OC, implied LoVe
Spoilers: Everything and anything that appeared in Season 1 is suspect to spoilage.
Disclaimer: As much as I would like to say I own Veronica Mars, I cannot take such credit. I do however own the original character that is featured in this fic.
Author's Notes: This is something that has been floating in my head since the season one finale. I've been struggling to write anything beyond the first paragraph for the last three months because my muse has been refusing to help me write anything lately. I had to put this out there since I finally got to a place where I can break it off until a new chapter. If you hate to see Logan with anyone other than Veronica, then I must warn you there is a slight attraction between Logan and my original character (who I'm trying my best not to make a Mary Sue, but we'll see how that goes), however I'm highly doubtful I will let their relationship really go beyond flirting. Oh, and I know that in the season finale Logan wasn't wearing his pukashell necklace, but when I started writing the part where that's mentioned, I forgot about that tidbit, so I just left it in here that he's wearing it at this point in itme. Sorry if that bothers anyone. I'm not 100 sure I'll continue this fic, it really depends on the feedback. If in all the outlets I post this at I get a reasonable amount of interest and a low amount of hate mail, then I'll post the next chapter when I finish it. Anyway, I'll shut up now and let you enjoy the fic:
Alcohol. Now there was some great company. Their only reason for being by your side is to fulfill your needs. They don't have hidden agendas, trust issues, self-absorbency problems, psychotic homicidal tendencies, or leave you precisely when you need them the most. Nope, the only reason alcohol is ever in your immediate presence is to satisfy you. Plus, they helped him forget. Forget that his first major girlfriend and love of his adolescent life not only cheated on him with a piece of Latino trash like Weevil, but his own father- his father!- who she knew treated him like complete shit, yet she still screwed without another thought. Forget that his father- his own fucking bastard of a father- not only slept with his girlfriend and taped it, but also killed her in cold blood when she discovered the cameras and hid the tapes. Forget that his current girlfriend- ex-girlfriend?- not only thought that he was capable of killing the girl they had both loved, but turned him over to the police with the very circumstantial evidence. Forget the taste of her mouth, the smell of her hair, the way her body felt against his, and the sounds she made when his lips and tongue explored her neck. Forget how right it felt to hold her in his arms as they both drifted off to sleep and how wonderful it was to wake up the next morning with her curled in his arms, snuggling into his chest. Forget that he missed her and wished he had never had left Neptune for the summer.
Okay, so maybe it wasn't exactly doing a good job at helping him forget at the moment, but it sure as hell was doing a good job of numbing the pain that had been choking him. Logan started to raise his hand to signal the bartender when in his peripheral vision he noticed that someone had sat down on the barstool next to him. He ignored the body that had sat beside him, and waited impatiently for the bartender to attend to his needs. After the bartender poured him his drink, he commanded the bottle to be left, which caused the bartender to raise an eyebrow. But the eyebrow was quickly flattened when Logan tossed several bills onto the table, doubling the actual cost of drinking a bottle of the scotch at the bar, and the bartender quickly snatched up the cash before leaving the bottle by Logan's side. Usually he'd keep his binge drinking to the confines of his own private room, but as it was, Logan found himself with a little over an hour to kill at the Los Angeles International airport as he waited for his connecting flight that would take him even closer to the place he'd been hiding from for the last three months, and he didn't have time to worry about public drunkenness if he wanted to calm his nerves. He cursed himself for not planning the whole return trip out, as a bus ride from LAX back to Neptune would have been a lot quicker than waiting for the connecting flight to San Diego and then taking a bus from there.
In the corner of his eye, he could see that the person next to him was blatantly gawking at him, and Logan barely resisted the urge tell them to fuck off. He had tried his best to ignore them, never giving them a glance, but by his sixth glass it had begun to unnerve him. Once the contents of his sixth glass of scotch was emptied, he slammed down the glass onto the bar top.
"Was there something I could help you with, or were you just planning on watching me for the duration of the afternoon?" he asked, as he turned to give his borderline stalker a venomous glare.
He had asked this question in a tone and with a glare that would make most recoil in slight fear, or at the very least make them reconsider approaching him, but the person he had to directed the question to, an Asian girl around his age or possibly slightly older, didn't even bat an eye.
"A little early for happy hour, don't you think?" she retorted, ignoring his question. "I mean, even for you, Logan."
As soon his name passed through her lips, Logan immediately sobered up and he decided this girl's not a borderline stalker, but an actual one. Her emphasis on his name gave him pause though, because his experience with his father's obsessive fans had made him an expert on how the stalkee's name should sound as it slipped out of the stalker's mouth, and this girl definitely had no sounds of admiration surrounding his name as she said it. She obviously said his name to make it a point that she knew whom he was, and was baiting him by calling him out on it. But this was bait he wasn't going to bite.
"First off, it is never too early for happy hour. And secondly, who is Logan?" He kept his poker face on, and gave her one of his best look of confusion. Unfortunately, if the amused grin was any indication, she wasn't buying it.
"And he actually denies it with a straight face. Wow, bravo," she replied, the smirk unwavering.
"Look, lady, I have no clue who the hell you are, but I do know I'm not this Logan character you are obviously obsessed with to a point where you confuse perfect strangers for him."
The girl was silent for several moments, her fierce gaze fixed on him. He did his best to not fidget under her penetrating stare-down, and waited for her next quip, which came quickly.
"You know, the shaggy, uber blonde hair threw me off at first but once you glared at me with those brown eyes of yours, I recognized you instantly. Plus, if you don't want anyone to recognize you," she said as she leaned towards Logan and runs a finger across his necklace. "You should really reconsider wearing the pukashell necklace, cause, dude, you have it in every picture they show."
"They? Who's they?" Logan asked, grabbing her wrist to pull her hand away from him.
"Entertainment Tonight, The Insider, Extra, my local news syndicate- name the news source, you're pretty little mug has been plastered on it. However, the most recent thing I've seen you on is this," she said as she pulled something out of the bag she was carrying.
She held out the folded piece of paper she had pulled from her bag to Logan, who reluctantly took it from her. Logan slowly unfolded the paper to find it was a flyer with his photograph on it, a missing person's flyer to be more specific.
"Where did you get this?"
"My uncle's a detective for the LAPD, and since I was driving through Los Angeles, I figured I'd drop by to say hello, check out his place of work. When I got there, he was out working a case, but I figured I'd stay a while since I had no other plans."
"Is there a point to all this rambling, or do you just like hearing the sound of your voice?" Logan interrupted her long-winded story.
"Yes, somewhere amongst my prattling there is a point, and if your attention-span can hold in there for about two more seconds, you'll get to hear it." She was silent for a moment, waiting for a response for him. He moved his hand in a sweeping motion as if allowing her the floor, so she continued. "As I was saying, while I waited in the station, the missing persons wall caught my eye, and as I perused the photos of the missing, your lovely flyer called to me."
"Called to you?" scoffed Logan.
"Yeah, called to me," repeated the girl annoyed by his second interruption. "And, coincidences of coincidences, as I was reading over your stats a call came in from some lady who had been at LAX thought she saw the Echolls boy walking past her in terminal 7 as she was rushing to catch her flight. I believe her description was, 'He was alone, wearing something dark, had longer hair, but still look just as handsome as his father.' Unfortunately, the officer who took the call at the precinct didn't take her too seriously, figuring she was just one of the many other wannabe-good-Samaritans, nut-jobs, or opportunists who are trying to bank on the $60,000 finders fee those lawyers and your sister put out on your father's behalf to locate you and so the station ignored such a potential tip."
"And let me guess, the need to come to the airport just called to you?"
"Well, I couldn't very well ignore my spidey-sense, now could I?"
"Of course not. So what, you're going to cash in on the reward money now, I suppose?"
"Uh, no. I just wanted to see if my intuition was correct. Besides, trust me when I say I'm not hurting for the cash. Although, I'm sure I could donate it to some worthy cause if I wanted to reap the reward of finding the ever so evasive Logan Echolls."
"Well now that you're curiosity has been satisfied, why don't you do us both a favor and go away."
"Now, now Logan, is that anyway to talk to the person who stands between you and an escorted ride home?"
"What the hell are you talking about?" Logan asked her. Instead of an immediate answer, she raised her eyebrows and then nudged her head in the direction behind him. He turned to see what she was pointing out and noticed an airport security guard standing outside the entrance of the bar, appearing to scan the patrons inside before talking into the walkie-talkie in hand.
"It looks like our boys in blue might have actually decided to follow the tip after all. Nice meeting you, Logan Echolls, and good luck getting on your plane. I'm sure all departing flights are being carefully monitored now, so it might be a little tricky getting through unnoticed."
"Gee, thanks," Logan muttered sarcastically.
The girl hopped off the barstool and once on her feet turned to lean towards Logan.
"I can help get you out of here undetected, you know, if you let me," she said to him a low voice.
"I don't need your help or anybody else's for that matter, so why don't you take your Sydney Bristow act and practice your covert ops somewhere else," Logan replied snidely.
"Fine, if you want your return to Neptune to be as large as a media circus as I'm sure it will be when one of these guards find you pathetically boozing away by your lonesome, then by all means drink up and stay here at the airport. Don't let me stand in your way."
She turned her heel and started to walk towards the entrance of the bar. Logan bounced his knees as his options whirled around in his head. Coming up with a decision, he jumped out of his seat, swiped the bottle of vodka off the counter, and then rushed towards the girl as he slipped the bottle into his messenger bag. It didn't take many steps until he found himself walking beside the girl who had just offered him her help.
"So, what exactly did you have in mind for my grand escape?"
"Well," she replied with a grin. She removed the messenger bag that was slung across her chest and handed it to him. "Here, switch bags with me." Logan hesistantly traded his messenger bag for hers. "Now go slip into that bathroom over there and put on the outfit in the bag."
Logan raised an eyebrow in slight suspicion, causing the girl to roll her eyes. She opened her mouth to say something, but her eyes widened faintly at something behind him before she suddenly throws her arms around his neck and leans close to him so their faces were just a whisper apart.
"What are you," he started to ask but she cut him off.
"Just trust me, Logan."
"Trust you? I don't even know your-" Before he could complete his sentence her lips crushed against his, rendering him silent. For a brief moment he was utterly shocked with the situation and a nonparty in the whole kissing thing, but then that didn't last long since, you know, he's an average, hormonal teenage guy after all, and soon he's an active participant in the kiss. But before he could really enjoy the feel of lips against lips, she pulled apart from him. He gave her a puzzled look as she takes a step away from him, and he can see the flush of embarrassment seeping through her face, although she did her best to keep a straight demeanor.
"Sorry, a security guard was about to approach us. It was the only thing I could think of," she explained after clearing her throat. "I think we threw him off your scent, though. Since the coast is clear now, why don't you get your butt into the bathroom before someone else spots you."
She started to push him in the direction of the bathroom, and he playfully swatted at her hands in return.
"Okay, okay. God, you're just as bossy as Ver," he trailed off, realizing that he almost said her name. A frown marred his features before he turned away from his new companion and mumbled, "Never mind."
"It's Hel, by the way," she changed the direction of the conversation, as she could probably tell he was suddenly uncomfortable by his slip of the tongue.
"What?" he replied, his confusion evident.
"My name. It's Hel. Well, technically Helena, but everyone calls me Hel."
"Hell, huh? How fitting," retorted Logan with a smirk.
"Ha, ha. Cute. Now why don't you get your smart ass into the new threads so we can get out of here ASAP, okay?"
"Fine, I'm going. But when I come back you have some things to explain, like why you have a change of clothes ready for me."
"In due time, all will be revealed, young Skywalker. Now, go," Hel commanded, pointing to the nearby restrooms.
"Whatever you say, Yoda," countered Logan before he turned to walked towards the restroom. As he slipped into one of the stalls and started to pull the change of clothes out of the bag, he began to wonder more about who this girl was and why in the hell was she carrying men's clothes.
TBC. So, did you love it, hate it, or feel total indifference towards it? Let me know, I have semi-tough skin I can take it…I hope. I hope my OC's name wasn't lame...I got it off the show Cleopatra 2525 which I've recently had a dvd marathon of. Anyway, if you have any suggestions, questions, comments, just let me know.