It's a prison break.
**
Veronica didn't seem to notice Logan with her head stuck in her new locker. He made strides to get past her before she pulled herself out of there but timing being as unfortunate as ever he landed right in front of her as Veronica set herself back down off her tip toes and turned—shocked to see her gaze hit him.
Her voice was soft and startled, "Hey."
Logan almost blushed as he awkwardly stumbled over a grunt that sounded vaguely dismissive and carried on—trying to appear unaffected. Before he was two steps away another boy's hands were on his shoulders and he was swept into the thrall of the 09ers, several of whom took it upon themselves to shoot dirty looks and dirtier words towards Veronica.
Logan just shrugged. It wasn't his place to defend her anymore—hadn't been for that long to start with.
Veronica tilted her head with a dry, cutting smile. "Run on, boys, it's been a whole summer—I bet you're dying to show Logan your new techniques."
And then she winked. And maybe she shouldn't have because the next thing she knew Logan was turning back to her with a sarcastic grin.
"Oh, you know I'll be thinking of you, Veronica. Those purity tests don't lie, do they? Least now I know why you never filled yours out yourself."
He mouthed the number twelve at her very obviously in a show of faux-discretion.
A high five here, a cat call there and Logan was king again. Veronica really should have known better.
She didn't respond—it wasn't worth the breath it would take to feed his insults, she would only end up giving him more ammo. Logan knew everything about Veronica now, everything that mattered anyway. Funny really how much he had managed to squeeze out of her in a few weeks, more than Wallace had managed in a few months, more than her dad had managed in a few years.
It was scary. He could hurt her with it.
Veronica glared but she didn't see Logan's gaze flick hesitantly back to her as he disappeared.
**
Veronica shook her head towards the drink extended to her. "I don't drink."
"Sure you do." Logan was already drunk, the edges of his words softer than usual.
"You know, getting wasted every weekend isn't something to be proud of."
"Doesn't have anything to do with that," he defended.
Veronica's words were tight, "It makes you act like an idiot."
"It's fun, Veronica."
"It's stupid, Logan."
They stared at each other over the rim of the glass until Logan backed down taking a swig of the drink himself.
"Listen just because you were stupid enough not to check your drink and get drugged doesn't make the rest of us idiots too."
"How dare you?" she fumed.
"It's the truth. Just 'cause it didn't work out for you one time doesn't make it wrong."
"I can't believe you're saying this to me."
"Then don't start with the self-righteousness."
She bit her lip. "You're an ass, Logan."
"You're a bitch – call us even."
"What the hell is wrong with you?" Veronica shook her head in disgust as she turned quickly and took off.
**
"Hi, Veronica. It's me, uh, Logan. I just… I'm sorr— you know what? Fuck it."
Click, beep, dial tone.
Veronica stared at the dead receiver for a long moment.
**
Logan didn't know when Veronica started creeping into his mind every time his hand crept down into his pants. He didn't encourage it but he couldn't seem to stop it either. He also wasn't sure if the emotional ambiguity he had towards her was maybe what made her a really good masturbation fantasy—probably.
Either way he had never expected her to become his new Alyssa Milano—it worked though, so he was willing to let the whole thing slide as long as he got off. After all, she was never going to find out.
**
Her voice didn't let anything away, "You're drunk."
"Keen observational skills, no wonder you caught him."
"The evidence was pretty damning, too."
"Whoa, you use actual evidence now? What happened to the circumstantial stuff?"
"You know they say that unreliable bias can be pretty powerful."
"Well then the next time you get scared maybe you talk to me instead of calling the Sheriff."
"That would require there being a next time, which I'm definitely not planning on. Nobody else gets to die."
"That'd be nice."
"You could forgive me, you know. It wouldn't hurt you."
Logan seemed reluctant as he mumbled, "Yeah."
"Maybe later," she tried not to sound too hopeful.
"Maybe," he agreed.
She sighed, "Why do you keep calling me?"
"You'd kick me out if I showed up at your door."
"You can't keep doing this, Logan."
"Sure I can. If it's that big a deal stop picking up."
"What do you want me to say?"
There was a pause as he considered, swallowing. "I don't know."
"It's late," she said finally. "I'm going to go to sleep."
"Okay."
"Are you going to be okay?" she asked. There was no reply. "Logan?"
Veronica strained to hear but his voice didn't sound as the call cut out to a dial tone.
**
As he pushed back the door Logan almost choked. Veronica Mars was lying back on her bed, eyes closed, mouth stretched into a gasping 'oh' as one hand gripped the comforter—the other disappearing somewhere down the front of her sleep shorts.
He stared, the strangled sound ripping from his throat enough to shock her to his presence. Her fingers snapped back out of the elastic as her eyes shocked open in horror.
"You didn't lock your door…"
Her thighs clenched together—frustrated—and before she could close her mouth or muster up something to say Logan was on her.
His mouth parted against hers, a hot wet tongue stroking into her mouth desperately.
Veronica opened her legs letting him fall between them, pushing her back into the mattress with his weight—hot and firm pressed against her chest, her stomach, the inside of her thighs. Veronica squirmed her hips up against him, trying valiantly to relieve the pressure that had built up in her crotch before Logan had interrupted.
"Veronica…"
Veronica wrenched up in bed suddenly—gasping and alone. She'd had this dream before. Closing her eyes tightly against the ghost-sensation she padded across the room to check her bedroom door, closed the window and sank back on her bed letting one hand slip down past her stomach.
**
The foyer was dark and Veronica could only vaguely make out the shadow of Logan's outline.
"Why are we whispering?"
"You're not supposed to be here."
"Oh."
"You put my dad in jail, Veronica; you think his lawyers want you anywhere near here?"
"I'd never—I…" she trailed off.
"You only got past the gate for one reason."
"Which would be?"
"I want you here."
"Well, that's a start—" she mumbled more to herself than anyone else.
Logan snapped towards her. "Shh."
A little farther and they hit a staircase which Logan started to ascend, grasping at Veronica's hand to lead her up without stumbling. The thick carpet padded softly beneath their feet and Veronica felt the guardrail, steady beneath the hand not trapped between Logan's warm fingers.
"Where are we going?"
He didn't look back as he replied, "My room."
Veronica wasn't scared; she'd been in his room before—but things had changed between them since then and maybe she was nervous, just a little, "How forward of you."
"Well, since it's about the only room that isn't hooked up to cameras I figured it'd be for the best."
Veronica froze from the dig. She deserved it; she had run out on Logan with no explanation after finding the infamous pool house cameras, but that didn't make his sting cut any less.
"No, not like that," he waved blindly behind him in the dark. "No one will see you're here."
"Oh," she nodded, somewhat relieved. "Okay."
Logan's hand stayed wrapped around Veronica's as he pulled her down the long corridor that branched out from the top of the stairs.
"Why are there no cameras in your room?" she asked suddenly, curious.
If Logan could have he would have given her a very blunt look through the darkness, but it was too thick—the product of excellent interior design and expensive curtains. Instead he whispered back, "Didn't want my parents to know what I was doing."
"Or who."
He shrugged a little awkwardly, "Or who."
There was a silence, broken as they turned a corner and Logan pushed open the door to his bedroom.
"Plus," he pulled the door closed behind Veronica's back, "it's the second floor."
"You can break in on the second floor," she pointed out, reasonably.
"You would know."
She couldn't tell if he was impressed or mildly disgusted. Probably both, after all her job was always going to be a little too reminiscent of the paparazzi for Logan's liking.
Veronica suddenly felt Logan's hands grip her shoulders, he was closer than she had realized in the dark. His fingers wrapped around to her back, palms holding the corners of her carefully.
She swallowed, tightly, "You could turn the light on now."
"Why are you here, Veronica?"
"I wanted to see you."
"In the middle of the night?"
She tried not to shift, not to let Logan see how nervous he could make her. "I figured it would be the only time I'd be able to sneak past the guards."
"Crafty, but wrong."
She tried bravado, "Apparently you hire good security, congrats."
There was a long pause as Veronica exhaled softly, trying to calm the rapid beating in her chest. Although his hands were the only thing touching her Veronica was sure she could feel Logan pressed against her through the thick, warm black. It wasn't the perfect time for sense memory to kick in.
"So, why did you want to see me?"
"Maybe I just did."
"Quit playing games, Veronica."
She could feel his breath shift the air around her face. The pressure of Logan's hands increased almost imperceptibly.
"I'm not the one playing, Logan."
"Sure," he didn't sound so convinced.
**
Veronica could have scripted her corridor encounters with Logan and his troops.
This: "We missed you last night, Veronica. Making the rounds on some other corner?"
And that: "Well I waited for you; eventually I figured it must have been Dick's turn."
And this: "Can I help it if everybody loves me?"
And then: "Lucky I'm here to pull you back down to reality, God knows what would happen if you were allowed to keep believing that."
Eventually: "You don't love me, Veronica? I'm heartbroken."
**
"What are you doing?" She broke her mouth away from him, gasping.
Logan mumbled back, not taking much notice, "Undoing your pants?"
His mouth found hers again only to be broken off as she pulled away.
"I just—" she started.
Logan began to lose patience. "Veronica, what?"
"What the hell are we doing, Logan?"
"With life in general?" he asked, hands moving to her hips.
Veronica sounded almost desperate, "With us."
He shrugged clumsily. "I don't know," he mumbled.
"Well, I, I—just, don't you think—" she stuttered to find an answer, a reasonable observation about them as her flushed face blushed brighter.
He cut her off with a swift kiss, deepening it as his tongue stroked intoxicatingly into her mouth. "I want you," he breathed, breaking just slightly from her mouth, his voice thick and cracking.
Veronica closed the distance this time, her hips pressing roughly against him as she threw her arms around Logan's neck.
His hands fumbled back to her zipper and as he pulled it down—a satisfied rip sounding—he knocked a shuddered breath from her.
Soon Veronica was running down her mental checklist:
Virginity #1: Gone.
Virginity #2: Gone.
She rolled away from Logan, staring at the blank ceiling as she came to. "What the hell?"
"Don't put this on me. I came here to apologize, not get laid."
"I hate you," she told him without malice. "You can't ever keep things simple."
"Nothing's simple, Veronica."
"How profound."
"What can I say; you just bring out the poet in me."
She swatted a hand at his chest blindly. Logan caught her arm tugging Veronica against him until there were only inches between their faces.
Veronica caught her breath against his mouth, "You're so full of it."
His hand swiped away some stray bangs from her face.
"You have to go," she let the words out on a quiet breath.
"Why?"
"You called me trailer trash twice today and backed up Dick on at least three whore comments."
His palm moved to cup her face. "Thought you didn't care what he said?"
"I don't." Logan cocked an eyebrow in response. "I care what you say," she admitted.
Logan opened his mouth to speak, but promptly shut it. After a moment—watching her carefully—he spoke, "Sorry."
**
Veronica strode down the corridor with a faint smile tingeing her lips. The upwards tug on her lips threatened to take over into a full smile as she noticed someone leaning up against her locker.
"Hey."
"I didn't write that," Logan defended as he moved away from her locker. The word 'slut' was scrawled in thick black marker.
Veronica nodded trying not to let the branding bother her. "Okay."
She pulled back the metal door and threw some books inside, letting it clang closed as she started down the corridor again. Logan used the wall of lockers to propel himself to his feet as he followed after her.
"You're mad."
"Wouldn't you be?"
"I could find out who did it."
"Don't bother, I'll know by lunch."
"Veronica—"
She stopped, allowing herself a surreptitious glance around to check for eavesdroppers before she looked up to Logan. "I can't deal with this right now."
Logan's tone was self-deprecating when he replied, resigned, "You need to do whatever."
"Yes. No." She shook her head, flustered. "Don't make this more difficult."
"What's difficult?"
"You know… what happened."
"When we had sex?"
"Shh! Yes." He raised an eyebrow in prompt. Veronica lowered her voice further, "Yes, when we had sex. It can't happen again."
"Why?"
"Take a look at my locker."
"That has nothing to do with us, Veronica. Nobody knows."
"It has to do with me. And if they found out… it'd only get worse."
"It won't, we'll find out who—"
"Logan, last week you would have been spearheading that campaign."
"You don't believe that."
"Yeah. I do."
Veronica ducked her head, elbowing past Logan just as the bell rang and the relatively empty corridor began to fill.
**
1. "Veronica. Call me."
2. "Veronica, it's me. Please would you just call me back?"
3. "Veronica, we need to talk. Just pick up the damn phone."
4. "I'm not calling again. You can't keep avoiding me, Veronica. Call me back, please."
5. "I'm through. Go to Hell for all I care, I'm done with this shit."
Veronica hit replay, Logan sounded drunk. She sat with the phone cradled in her palm considering the call back button. She sighed, dragged herself off the couch and placed the phone back in its base before moving to grab the garbage.
Veronica gave Backup a quick pat on the head as she moved past, pushing open the door and stepping out into the clammy California night air. Dumping the bag of trash she noticed a car parked across the lot—trying to be inconspicuous and failing spectacularly.
She trailed across the tarmac towards Logan. He let the window down as she approached.
"You have to stop calling. Really this time."
Logan let himself fall back further into his seat, lifting a flask to his mouth.
"You drove drunk," she seemed almost resigned to the fact. "You're an idiot, Logan."
"Thanks." He took another drink as she leaned against the car door, wrapping her arms around herself.
"I don't want you to die."
"That's nice of you."
"Logan," she started softly, coaxing, "you can't do this."
She took a quick step away as he started to throw open the door, feet hitting the parking lot, arms thrown wide. "What did you expect?"
"Not a stalker."
"I'm not stalking you."
"You're sitting outside my house in your car in the middle of the night."
"You do that to people all the time."
"I—"
He waved her off. "Whatever."
"Logan."
He ignored her. Veronica pulled her arms tighter across her chest.
"Logan, please. You can't drive home like this."
"I got here."
"Give me the keys."
"Unlikely, Veronica."
"Give me the keys or I'm calling one of my favorite Deputies."
"One of your favorites? Then I should leave, give you some privacy."
"Why are you being like this?"
"Why are you?"
"Because it's—" she cried.
"It's what?" he demanded, exasperated.
There was a pause as Veronica shook her head to the ground, she extended her hand—palm up—for his keys. Logan reluctantly dropped them into her hand and Veronica's voice was quiet, strained.
"Call a cab or something, just go, Logan."
She avoided his eyes, starting back up towards her apartment.
"Veronica!"
She ignored him and Logan slumped against his car, fumbling for his cell phone. The call unsurprisingly tripped onto an answering machine.
"Get outside, Veronica. I'm not leaving."
Ten minutes later—and the last few drops inside his mostly-empty bottle gone—Veronica padded down the steps from her apartment towards him. Her eyes were red-rimmed from lack of sleep or crying, her skin a little blotchy. She rubbed at an eye with the back of her hand as Logan stood to meet her.
"I need my keys."
"Not tonight."
"Can I come in?"
"My dad'll be home tomorrow."
"So can I come in tonight?"
"You're drunk."
"I'm not that drunk."
She paused. "I can't do this anymore, Logan."
"Do what?"
"This."
His hand moved towards her face, fingers threading through her hair carefully. "Then don't, let's just forget about it all."
"That'd be nice," she murmured as he moved closer.
His breath was warm, slightly alcoholic as his mouth moved down—parting against her lips.
"We can't—"
Logan kissed over her words his tongue moving into her welcoming mouth and Veronica's arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer. Logan's free hand moved over the curve of her waist, pressing firmly into her lower back until Veronica was tight against him.
She gasped a little against his mouth, trying to catch her breath as they broke apart, "Come inside."
**
Veronica had almost gotten used to the feeling of the cool bathroom counter pressed into her back. It was after all becoming a regular occurrence.
"You're too cute."
She giggled into his mouth. "I'm serious; we have to get to class."
"Class can wait," he mumbled into her kiss.
"I want to graduate."
Logan moved his mouth to her neck—sucking and licking on the soft skin until Veronica was gasping lightly. "Academic excellence is overrated."
"Graduating high school is hardly 'academic excellence'," she panted softly as Logan's mouth came back to hers.
His hands ran down her sides closely. "Then stay here, you'll pass anyway."
Veronica pulled away, plucking a book from the counter and pushing it into his chest as he reached for her. "You won't."
"Hey. I'm doing just fine." He tried to look offended.
Veronica beamed brightly, unable to finish a sentence without kissing him. "Not if you keep blowing off classes."
"But then you could tutor me," he grinned wickedly in response.
She smiled into his mouth. "And have me fail too? I don't think so. Come on—class."
**
"He pleaded 'not guilty'."
"Guess it was too much to ask him to be a real dad for once."
Veronica watched Logan study the arm of the couch closely for a moment before breaking the thick silence, "You okay?"
"Yeah," he looked up, "you?"
"I will be," she nodded definitely.
Logan gave her a small smile, his hand on her arm pulling Veronica closer. She crawled into his lap, taking his hand in hers. "At least I'll have plenty to tell the shrink," he mumbled into her hair.
Veronica rolled her eyes playfully threading her fingers with his. "It's a good thing."
"It's stupid, I don't need one."
She watched their hands as his fingers tensed around hers. She sighed a little resting her cheek on his shoulder. "Then just keep down low until they let you go."
"Down low, eh?" He twisted her slightly in his grasp, catching her incredulous smile.
"Not like—" She was cut off by his insistent mouth.
"Logan," she tried to dodge his mouth. "Logan. Logan. Logan!" She grabbed his face between her hands, running a thumb along his cheekbone. "You have to go soon."
He grasped her hands, leaning backwards and tugging until she fell off balance—landing flush against him. "Help me work through my grief," he leaned up for a quick kiss, "and I won't have to." Again his mouth darted up to meet hers.
Veronica settled against him, one hand running soothingly down his arm as the other moved to cradle his face, "You shouldn't joke about it."
"Don't, Veronica." He jerked away from her fingers on his face.
She deliberately continued touching him, "I'm—"
"Don't be sorry, just leave it."
He moved to kiss her again and Veronica shifted—getting comfortable against him—as she sank into his chest her mouth opening to his warm tongue's gentle strokes.
**
"It's just the two of us tonight, Trina's out of town."
"For your birthday?"
"Yeah. She had some last minute audition. It's cool though, I have you."
Veronica pushed her lips up to his as Logan opened the front door, stepping through the threshold while still holding her closely—exploring her mouth carefully as she clung to him.
"Happy birthday, little brother!"
Veronica stared across the two feet of space that had developed between herself and Logan when she pulled away. The room was a quiet buzz, her head screamed 'déjà vu' and Logan's mouth was curled into a beautifully wry smile as he shrugged.
And held his hand out to her.