Five Things That Never Happened in Neptune

Lianne Stayed

She tugged the blanket tighter around her body, shelling herself with its warmth. The phone rang on the bedside tabler and she stared at it; he was nothing if not persistent. It had been a month since they'd last been together and, up until recently, she'd been anxiously awaiting this night. Lianne Mars shivered. She wasn't going, not this time. Not anymore.

The ringing stopped and then started again within seconds. It was no use, really, she'd have to answer it soon or later. With a long, saddened looked at the empty side of the bed, she picked up the phone and tucked it to her ear.

"Hello?"

"I'm here. Where are you?"

She coughed slightly, considering faking an illness. "Well, seeing as I'm answering my phone at home…"

"Lianne, we don't have much time. When are you going to be here?"

"I'm not going, Jake," she told him quietly and shut her eyes as he took in a deep breath.

His voice was softer, sweetened, when he replied, "Don't be silly."

"Keith almost got killed last night," Lianne answered, her throat closing slightly against the emotions rising up. "A burglary. They were lucky to have their vests on." Jake didn't answer and Lianne dropped her face into her free hand. "I have a husband now, Jake. You have a wife. We… we need to respect that."

"Lianne-"

"It's over, Jake. Please don't call me anymore."

She hung up before he could protest and before he could hear a sob escape her mouth. She was still crying when Keith came home from work an hour later; the stubborn man, they'd told him to take a two day break, but he was back in his untarnished uniform less than twelve hours after being shot at.

He dropped his bag at the bedroom door and took in her red-rimmed eyes. "I thought you were going to your mom's tonight. There goes that romantic lunch I had planned for when you got back."

"I…" Lianne looked back at him, trying to will away the guilt from her expression. "I couldn't leave."

"Hey," he said softly, climbing on the bed, embracing her so warmly that it made the blanket seem like a cheap rag. "I'm okay. I swear."

Lianne nodded against his shoulder, but began to cry again.

They had their romantic lunch in bed. Nine months later came a baby girl.

Veronica's warmth was just like Keith's.

-----

Duncan Stayed

"That is nine kinds of messed up."

The slurred words didn't surprise Duncan Kane in the least, but his breath definitely caught when he followed Luke's gaze. Veronica was laid out on a deck chair, her white dress drawn primly over her knees and arms locked tight over her breasts; but her demure posture said nothing of how Logan was dousing her neck with salt while another boy plucked a lemon wedge from her mouth.

Duncan stood frozen, watching the scene unfold as Luke drunkenly muttered that someone should do something about it. Inwardly, he agreed, but his feet stayed cemented to the ground beneath him. Veronica stirred slightly under the attention and shook her head weakly. Duncan willed himself to go forward, no matter how ridiculous it might be to play the role of knight in shining armor when he was anything but.

He was finally starting to move when he saw a slim girl with blonde hair smack Logan on the arm and give an icy glare to the boy with the lemon. Meg helped Veronica up and led her away, spitting harsh words at the abusers, words no one had ever before heard coming out of her mouth. Cole, her boyfriend, looked distinctly out of place, but took Veronica's other side and carried her away.

Thoroughly ashamed of his lack of action, Duncan followed after them. He barely caught up in time to find Meg and Cole in a heated argument; it wasn't hard to guess what the subject was. Veronica had disappeared, but Duncan kept searching until he found her stumbling over Dick Casablancas, clutching at his hair as she tried to regain her balance.

"You like pulling hair, huh?" He heard Dick ask, his voice both teasing and lurid at the same time. Duncan felt his stomach drop as Dick leaned his head in towards Veronica's lips and he was jerking her up and away from the sitting boy before either of them knew what was going on.

"Stay the hell away from her, Dick," Duncan said pointedly, shifting Veronica into the crook of his arm.

"Just… having… a little fun," Dick replied flippantly, his eyes a little glazed and only able to focus somewhere over Duncan's shoulder.

Duncan glared at him, but turned to Veronica when he heard her moan slightly.

"Come on, I'm taking you home," he mumbled, suddenly very embarrassed that the pseudo-knight had made an appearance after all.

Veronica nodded feebly and leaned against his shoulder. He half-carried her outside, bypassing her car – he'd have to send someone to pick it up in the morning – until he reached where his own car was parked. After helping Veronica into the passenger seat, where she promptly collapsed against the window frame, Duncan slid behind the wheel and headed towards her house.

The drive, as familiar as the one to his place, was quick and silent. Veronica hardly stirred and he was grateful for it. It was only when he shut off the headlights and pulled into the driveway that Veronica's eyes fluttered open.

Duncan looked away from her. "I'd take you in, but your parents probably won't be glad to see me."

Veronica stayed silent, but he could feel her eyes boring into him. The hair on his neck stood up and it was all he could do to keep from moving towards her, from touching her.

"Miss you," she whispered.

Duncan's eyes closed. It took everything in him to firmly reply, "Veronica, go inside."

He didn't have to watch her to know that her face crumpled at those words, that she was likely blinking back tears through whatever haze she was in. There was no need to turn in her direction because the pain was clear when she meekly asked, "Is it really over?"

Duncan bit hard on the inside of his cheek before flatly saying, "It has to be."

She didn't ask why. Maybe she was too drunk to care or too wounded to speak, but Duncan felt ill relief when the passenger door opened, she stepped out and gently closed it again. When he finally looked her way, Duncan could barely make out her figure in the darkness; it was enough, however, to see the shaking of her shoulders, her hands rising to wipe frantically at her face.

With a heavy sigh, Duncan dropped forward and set his forehead against the steering wheel. There had been plenty recently, but this had to be the absolute worst night of his life – no contest.

-----

Wallace Stayed

Welcome to Neptune High, Wallace thought bitterly.

Well, they could have it.

Upon first hearing that they were moving to an ocean side town, he'd been excited. Dreams of bikini clad beauties danced through his brain, along with plans of lying in the sand, soaking up the heat of the sun. It promised to be glorious.

What it was, was humiliating.

Gritting his teeth and focusing his eyes on a distant building, Wallace tried not to care that he was on display for the entire assembly of students he'd planned on greeting with a smile. They were certainly smiling, but were any of them trying to help him down? No. He was standing here, with nothing but duct tape covering the boys – and, hell, it was going to hurt when it came off – being ogled by everyone for being a freak and a 'snich'.

How's this for guts, Sheriff? he thought. I'm standing here like a man. Where are you?

Why, damn it, WHY did he press the alarm last night?

Keeping his face as stoic as possible, Wallace ignored the jerk who took a picture with him, not even glancing downwards. But when another cruel photographer came, they brushed against his leg and he jerked automatically. Eyesight brought down, his gaze caught a tiny blonde girl in the middle of the crowd. Their attentions locked on one another and he shivered as her eyes followed down his body and back up.

Her mouth twisted in an odd smirk, as if wondering what he'd done to deserve this. He would have gladly told her if she'd come closer.

But she didn't.

At last, with a slight shrug, she turned away and walked towards the school with what had to be his last hope for help. Wallace finally just shut his eyes and waited until a distant bell rang and the crowd began to disperse. It was quickly followed by the roar of motorcycles and he felt was caught between dread and relief.

"Now don't you look like a sight for sore eyes," the leader announced. He rubbed at Wallace's head with a little too much glee for comfort. Voice low and threatening, he added, "You see this, Snitch? You better get comfortable with this if you ever do another one of my boys the way you did. I'd grow eyes on the back of my head if I were you."

He waited for a long while and Wallace nodded feverishly when he realized that's what was expected of him.

The duct tape, of course, hurt when it came off.

It hurt almost as much as the embarrassment he felt all day when people recognized him in the administration office and laughed behind their hands. It hurt nearly as much as the punch he got in the face when the bikers got convicted and sent to juvenile hall. It hurt slightly more than the knowledge that all those ocean side dreams had been thrown out the window before they were even given a chance.

Before long, he started hearing stuff about the blonde girl, Veronica. A bitch, they said, a slut. Self-serving and cruel to boot. That sure sounded right to him. And to think he actually thought she would help him down from the pole.

On the day that he tried to join the basketball team and got only sniggers for his effort, Wallace finally hit the last measure of his patience. He began to campaign and, knowing what her son was going through, his mother relented. Halfway through the semester, he transferred out of Neptune High and began commuting fifteen miles to school.

Pan High wasn't near the ocean, but it was a hell of a lot better than anything he'd been offered before. Perhaps that's the way it was supposed to be all along.

-----

Lilly Stayed

"You dirty dog," Lilly whispered, both in awe and astonishment.

The screens in front of her revealed the crumpled bedspread that she'd been on only a few moments before. So Aaron was filming their steamy liaisons, Lilly thought with a twisting grin on her face. How very… delicious.

Hugging this secret to her chest, Lilly quickly closed the panels and jumped back on the bed. She looked straight back at the fan camera and posed slightly, giving the lens a wicked smile. If this is what he wanted, she'd give to him and she'd give it to him good.

"Lilly," Aaron sing-songed. She looked over at the door and gave him the best 'come-hither' look she had, with a bitten lip to boot. "Are you ready, my dear?"

She crooked her finger at him. That was all he needed.

Throughout the afternoon, she posed carefully, again and again for the cameras. It was all she could do not to laugh when she spied Aaron giving them what he probably thought where surreptitious glances. He was a terrible actor, always had been, but the things he did-

Lilly moaned and he echoed her and she hoped there were microphones hidden in the room, too.

In between their frantic couplings, she plied him with vodka and rum. He had a higher tolerance for alcohol (and really, gave better head) than Logan, but she couldn't blame her dear ex-boyfriend for being a less skilled than a man thirty years his senior. All she had to do was try a little harder, ride a little faster and soon he was completely hammered and spent.

When she knew he was asleep, Lilly gave a flirty wave to the camera in the oriental statue and crept out of the bed. It had gone dark outside – all the better for her escape – and she didn't waste time in turning off the recorder and tucking the tapes away in her purse. After she dressed, she gave Aaron one last, sloppy goodbye kiss, just for kicks, and left.

Three days later, Access Hollywood had a field day and Aaron Echolls was ruined. Lilly was already overseas and too busy spending some very hush-hush money in frivolous places to care. She thought of sending Veronica a postcard and promptly forgot when she met a wealthy playboy from Greece.

Ah, well. She wasn't sure she wanted a sister anyway.

-----

Logan Stayed

"It's going to be okay, it's going to be okay."

He murmured it over and over into her long, blonde hair. Logan wasn't sure if he believed it or not, but it had to be true, it had to be. Nothing could possibly get worse than this.

The lights of the police cruisers washed over them, tingeing their skin an alternating blue and red. His blood hand long run cold, the only warmth he knew coming from Veronica's embrace. She was still weeping, her body shuddering with every racking sob. He knew, deep inside, but he should be crying, too, but she was the one who'd seen Lilly. Duncan was off in a trance somewhere and there was no one else to hold on to. It was his phone that had been called and Logan had raced over to step up.

God, if only he'd gone to her at the car wash instead of leaving that damn note. It would have made a difference, he thought fiercely, Lilly wouldn't be lying-

Logan swallowed, hard, and thought instead of the girl in his arms.

"I'm so sorry," Veronica burst out, her breath hot against his neck. "I shouldn't have told her, I'm so sorry."

It was clear she was referring to that stupid party the weekend before. "It's not your fault, Veronica."

"Yes it is," she moaned.

Logan shook his head and held her tighter.

Voice desperate, she asked, "What are we going to do, Logan? What are we going to do?"

He didn't know, but one thing was for sure. Whatever came, he and Veronica were going to be in this thing together.


A/N: (Can you tell I love doing OneShots?) Unfortunately, I don't know the specifics of the 'Five Things' challenge, but that didn't stop this from popping up in my head. I hope you enjoyed it and leave a review if you feel its fitting. :D Thanks for reading.