Try
Logan and Veronica have some big decisions to make in the two weeks before his deployment. After 9 long years, can they make this time count? This story follows the canon set by the movie (includes movie spoilers) and focuses on Veronica's POV. I intend to tell the full story of those two weeks so I expect the story to run a little above 10 chapters in length. Please forgive me for cheating a little on the days of the week (I don't know the exact timing in the movie). Obviously, I own none of these characters.
Chapter 1 - Monday
The flashing lights of a half dozen cop cars made her feel slightly dizzy as she sat in the open back of the ambulance. The paramedics had insisted on looking her over despite her repeated insistence that she wasn't hurt. So what if her hands shook as she sipped the water they'd handed her? She'd nearly died. Gia had died. A little case of shock seemed a small price to say for escaping Cobb's wrath with her life.
"Veronica!" She turned when she heard her name called from across the crowded parking lot, just in time to see Logan push past a deputy who tried to restrain him from entering the taped off crime scene. She could see his desperation, his terror, in the quickness of his movements. It was hardly the first time she'd put him through this. She felt tears well in her eyes and quietly blinked them away. No need to let him know just how scared she'd been.
He was next to her in an instant, and had her wrapped up in his arms a moment later. She clung to him, relieved to finally share this burden with someone else. But even as she held on, she began mentally preparing herself for the lecture to come. It didn't take long.
"Veronica, what the hell happened? I thought we agreed you weren't going to rush into yet another dangerous situation without backup?" She could see the anger mixed with the fear in his eyes. "And yet – shocker – I arrive to find Cobb in handcuffs, someone – thankfully not you, it appears – being taken away in a body bag, and you sitting in the back of an ambulance."
"Gia," she said quietly. "It's Gia in the body bag. Cobb shot her. We were just standing there, and the next thing I know the window explodes and Gia's on the floor and..." Her voice broke before she could finish the sentence. He pulled her tight against his chest. She could sense his frustration was doing battle with his fear for her, but she wasn't yet sure which one would win.
"Are you hurt?" he asked, his eyes raking over her, looking for potential injuries.
"No. I'm fine," she replied quickly. She hoped he couldn't see her hands shaking in the dim light. When had it gotten dark?
He blew out a long breath. "Well that's something at least." He paused. "I'm sorry. About Gia, I mean. And about dragging you into all of this to begin with. I never should have-"
"Stop. Logan, I mean it. I'm a grown ass woman, capable of making my own decisions. I was the one who decided to come back here when you called, and I was the one that decided to walk into that apartment without backup. I knew what could happen." She let out a long breath. "I'm a big girl, remember? Capable of making my own decisions?"
"I know that," he muttered. "But somehow I always seem to drag you back into this shit."
"You didn't drag me into anything. You're not as irresistible as you seem to think." She smiled. "Despite what Wallace, and Mac, and my Dad seem to think, I am capable of seeing clearly even when you're involved." She feared he could hear the note of bitterness in her voice. It was hard to conceal when she was trying so hard to convince herself, as well as him, that they were wrong.
"Jesus, Veronica. I know we have a lot to figure out, but getting yourself killed is hardly the easiest way to do it. If you want some space, just say so."
He was trying desperately to inject some humor into a nightmarish situation to prevent this disagreement from escalating. She knew this pattern, had watched it play out a million times. It was her turn to either make a joke or fire an angry retort. Disengage or escalate. But with the distance of nine years between them, she wondered if it had to play out that way. She shrugged off the irritation, reminded herself he was just scared – she could barely imagine walking into that scene, seeing the body bag, and wondering if it was him – and decided to let it go.
"I don't – want space that is. I should have waited for you. I didn't mean to scare you. I'm sorry." She felt the tears threatening to overflow again, but this time she didn't hold them back. She'd been holding everything inside for nearly a decade. Maybe, this time, she'd be better off letting go.
He pulled her close to him and held her as she cried. She could feel his shirt growing damp as the tears continued to roll down her face. She was embarrassed, but he didn't pull away. After a few minutes, when the tears finally began to slow, she was shocked to realize that she'd stopped shaking. Maybe there was something to this sharing thing after all.
He kissed her forehead, then the tip of her nose, and finally her lips. "Are you done here? With the sheriff's office?"
She nodded. She'd given her statement and had been cleared. "You should be hearing soon that they've dropped all the charges related to Carrie's death."
He laughed. "Somehow, in the midst of all of this, that thought hadn't even crossed my mind." He looked at her. "Feel like getting out of here? I know a great dance club. Or maybe a magic show? Dick knows this set of twins that can do amazing things with-"
She cut him off with a quick kiss even as she laughed. It felt good. "I think maybe sleep would be good. Or at least as close to sleep as I can get on the old mattress my dad calls a guest bed."
He smiled, and looked almost nervous for a moment. After a pause, he said "I think I can do a little better than an old mattress. Come back to my place?"
She felt a shiver run through her. His place. Sure, they'd spent last night together – and it had been great, incredible really how easily they'd fit back together after all this time – but somehow the decision to go back to his place felt like a crossroads. The difference between one night of forgetting, and choosing…well, something else. Something bigger and more important. The kind of something that could bring pain as easily as pleasure. She knew, and so did he, that it would never come easily for them.
But as she looked at him, standing there nervously tapping his fingers against his legs as he waited for her answer, she realized she'd already decided. What was it he'd said all those years ago? "No one writes songs about the ones that come easy." That seemed about right. And after all, she didn't need to figure out the rest of her life tonight. It had been a bad day. But maybe some good could come of it after all.
"You know," she said, "I'm pretty picky about where I sleep. What kind of amenities do you offer? A waffle iron for breakfast? A magic fingers mattress at the very least?"
He laughed. The moment of nerves had passed and they were them again. "Magic fingers, eh? You never complained about them before." She felt the blush heating up her cheeks as he continued. "I don't know about the waffle iron, but I bet we can come up with something to make breakfast memorable."
He smiled as he gently pushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear. She hopped down from the back of the ambulance, thanking the paramedic as she went. Logan took her hand, placing a gentle kiss on her knuckles as they began walking towards his car. He put his arm around her shoulder, pulling her close. His grip was just firm enough to remind her that he knew exactly what they'd almost lost today. She did, too. And maybe after a good night's rest, they'd be able to figure out how to hang onto it for a little bit longer.
