A/N 1: This was a plot bunny that would not go away until it was written. This will be three chapters only, and hopefully finished in the next month or so. Please know that Logan and Veronica are my OTP, for serious. Just have a little faith in me.
A/N 2: A truck load of thank you notes to my beta, Scandalpants, for reading this through about three and a half times and encouraging me to keep going when I was ready to trash it.
"I'm not going." Logan leans back on the couch and extends his feet in front of him to rest on the coffee table.
He knows that under any other circumstances he would find Wallace's dogged determination amusing, but while he is sitting on his couch drinking a beer, the image of Wallace tearing through his carefully organized closet is only annoying.
Wallace has been singing the same refrain since receiving their 10-year high school reunion invitations in the mail two months prior, and Logan's response is always the same: 'Hell no. I'm not going.'
Something about his answer clearly has yet to register with Wallace, because he now stands in front of Logan and holds out two ties: one charcoal grey with stripes, and the other purple with a faint white pattern woven in, both silk.
Logan doesn't acknowledge him standing there and continues to watch Carrie; the film he specifically chose when Wallace told him he was coming over.
This method of 'ignore them until they leave' works with most people, but Logan learned several years prior that Wallace was immune. He wonders if this inoculation against his ire was something Veronica's friendship equipped him for.
"Come on Logan, I need a wingman, and you've been elected." Wallace shakes the ties in Logan's face, moving them a little closer.
He bats them away, but Wallace continues, occasionally looking over his shoulder to also watch TV.
Logan grabs both of the ties, bunches them up, and throws them across the room. He stands up in an attempt to intimidate Wallace with the five inches he has over him, but Wallace just rolls his eyes and pushes him back down.
He grimaces, remembering fondly a time when people were actually scared of him. Now, Wallace Fennel is pushing him around, and for some reason he lets him.
"I don't understand why your desire to hook up with one of our former classmates requires my attendance." He takes a long sip of his beer and turns off the TV.
"Because this isn't just any classmate. We're talking about Jenny Roe. That girl was blazin' in high school. I'm banking on her being a full blown inferno in her adult years. I need you to talk me up." He doesn't wait for a response, just walks away, presumably into the kitchen.
Logan hears the refrigerator door open and close, and the sound of a beer bottle being uncapped. "Bring me another one of those," he calls over his shoulder.
Wallace walks back in and flops on the couch next to Logan, shaking his head. "No more for you until the reunion. I need you stone cold sober until I talk to Jenny, and then you can do whatever you want."
"How do you even know she's going to be there?"
"One of my former teammates is on the alumni committee. He told me."
If ignoring doesn't work, Logan thinks that maybe some light ridicule will do the job. He looks over at Wallace and bats his eyelashes.
"What do you need me for, Wally? I'm sure Jenny remembers that magical moment the two of you shared senior year. What were her exact words again?" He scratches his chin, amusement shining in his eyes. "That's right. 'Can you hand me a napkin?' How she's stayed away this long is a mystery to me."
Wallace looks at him, his lips pursed in annoyance. "No more playing 'truth or truth' when we're drunk." He slaps Logan on the shoulder. "Come on, it'll be educational. Aren't you a little curious as to where all your former friends ended up?"
He raises his eyebrows, puzzled that Wallace clearly thinks this is a selling point. "I don't give a shit if the whole cheerleading squad is there reenacting their stripper-light routine to 'I'm A Slave 4 U'. I have zero interest in rubbing elbows with a bunch of sycophantic mouth-breathers. Anyone I want to talk to from high school, I talk to."
Wallace nods slowly, his lips curl into a shit-eating grin, and Logan's stomach drops. He has a trump card to play and Logan knows he's about to lose the argument they've been having for two months. He can't watch as Wallace reveals whatever information is inevitably going to lead to him standing up and putting on a suit, so he turns his head away and drinks down the last gulp in his bottle.
"So, you talk to everyone from high school you care about? Interesting." Wallace stands up and places his beer bottle on a coaster, heading back to Logan's bedroom.
Logan is up off the couch less than two seconds after Wallace and follows him into the room, seeing for the first time the mess he's made. Ties, suit jackets, and shoes, are spread out among the room. Wallace stands in front of Logan's closet again, pulling out shirts and throwing them on the bed.
"If I didn't know you as well as I do, your closet would give me all the evidence I need that you are a sociopath." He pulls out two blue dress shirts and holds them up for Logan to see, his eyebrows raised. "You have two of the same exact shirt."
"Three actually. One is at the dry cleaners." Logan pulls them away and hangs them back up in their proper place. "I also fold my underwear."
Turning around, Wallace shakes his head and mutters under his breath, "Forget sociopath. You are the gayest straight man I've ever met."
Logan rocks back and forth on the balls of his feet and swings his arms, trying to look and sound nonchalant. "So, Veronica is coming?"
A laugh escapes Wallace, and he faces Logan with a smirk on his face.
Immunity to his scowl, Logan might be able to tolerate, but blatant pilfering of his trademark smirk is something that he cannot stand for. He fully intends to let Wallace know that, after he gets the information he needs.
"Look man, it was a surprise to me, too. She called me out of the blue last week and told me she changed her mind." Wallace crosses his arms across his chest and keeps his expression blank, waiting to see how Logan takes this new information.
For his part, Logan is simultaneously overjoyed and infuriated by the knowledge that he is potentially an hour away from seeing Veronica Mars for the first time in six years. Overjoyed because, well, it's Veronica Mars. Furious because there's a hyphen in her name now that doesn't link to 'Echolls' and he alone carries the blame for that ugly fact.
He speaks with gritted teeth and does his best to sound angry, because if he doesn't he might just sound hurt, and that's not something he's prepared to have Wallace hear. "Is she bringing that douche she calls her husband?"
Wallace's face relaxes and for a second, Logan thinks he sees pity, but he knows better. Wallace has never pitied him. This is strictly sympathy. He doesn't think too long about the fact that if Wallace knew how he and Veronica parted ways after graduation, his sympathy would be replaced by anger.
"Logan, man, you've never met the guy. Give him a chance." His voice is gentle, as if soothing a scared animal.
"Nope." He scratches his chin, his eyes scrunched up in thought. "And thanks for the reminder that I wasn't invited to the wedding."
This gets a laugh from Wallace as he throws up his hands in amusement. "Can you blame her? You think she really wants her on-again, off-again ex-boyfriend watching her get married? Plus, the two of you barely talked after graduation."
Logan clears his throat and rubs the back of his neck, a gesture he immediately regrets for the way it communicates his discomfort. "True. But still –"he trails off, content to let Wallace believe the lie.
Every nine months or so, Wallace tries to get Logan to fess up to what happened between him and Veronica, and he always keeps the answer vague. It's usually a patchwork of, "We grew apart", "I never get up to San Francisco and she never comes to Neptune," "Still love her, and it's too hard to be her friend."
They're all half-truths. What's missing is the admission that links them all together: "I fucked up, waited six months to apologize, and by then she didn't want anything to do with me."
Wallace slaps him on the back. "Come on. You know you want to see if you're prettier than this guy."
Logan narrows his eyes. "No one is prettier than me. Do you like him?"
He shrugs in response and then takes a moment before actually answering. "He makes Veronica happy." His tone is firm, as if this is really the only thing that matters.
Still, the combination of Wallace's words and expression thrill Logan in a way that's hard to describe. He snaps and points a finger at Wallace, his face alight with joy. "You don't like him."
"Doesn't matter if I do or not." He rolls his eyes at the way Logan looks supremely proud of himself. "Don't get cocky. I didn't really like you either."
He walks past Logan to a couple suit jackets hanging over an armchair and holds them up. "What's it going to be? Hugo Boss, or Armani?"
Logan turns to his closet. "Neither. Only D&G will suffice for showing up my ex-girlfriend's husband."
When he faces Wallace again, his friend looks worried. "What do you have planned?"
He smirks and gestures with his head for Wallace to leave the room. "Nothing specific. I thought I'd feel this one out. Improvise."
The show he's putting on is really for his own benefit. If he can convince Wallace that this is all a game, merely a joke between old friends, then maybe he can convince himself of that, and his heart won't actually be smashed watching Veronica walk into their reunion holding hands with someone he's never learned the name of, let alone met.
"I'm going to regret making you come to this thing aren't I?"
Logan continues to sort through his closet to collect the pieces to his suit. "Probably."
When she's pressed into the cushions of his couch like this, he feels every one of the eleven inches of height he has over her. It's been a while, so he can't really remember, but he thinks this used to be easier.
He coaxes her into a sitting position, and her arms immediately go up. It's a reflex on her part, but it's also an invitation, and he responds eagerly. He lets her shirt drop to the floor and, now that she has more skin exposed, he pauses to stare at her. Or, more precisely, at her chest.
"My eyes are up here, mister." It's an old joke, but he doesn't even care. She could recite names and addresses from the white pages and he'd be riveted.
He looks up just long enough to see that her face is flushed, and that there's a smile playing on her lips, but then his eyes are back on her chest. He traces the outline of her bra with his index finger. "I just didn't think I'd be seeing this again."
She laughs and he hears her try to keep her breath steady as his fingers come into contact with skin. "Well, play your cards right, and you'll be seeing a lot more of me."
He smiles again, even wider, when he accidentally tickles her while running his hands down her side. He feels like he's seventeen again, which is fitting, given that was how old he was the first time he saw her with her shirt off.
She wraps her arms around his neck, and his lips instinctively find the juncture where her neck meets her shoulder, causing a soft hum to escape her lips. "This is gearing up to be the best going away present a girl could ask for."
Her words make him freeze, his lips poised to kiss her collarbone. Alarm bells sounding loud in his head. She couldn't mean that the way it sounded, right?
He pulls back to examine her and a grimace accompanied by a furrowed brow has replaced his smile.
He shakes his head and jumps off the couch, picking her shirt up off the floor as he does. "This isn't happening." Tossing the shirt at her, he takes several steps away.
Rather than focus on her face, he concentrates on her hands, which are kneading the hem of her shirt. The shirt he wishes she'd put on already.
"Logan, what's going on?"
"You can show yourself out." He looks up from her hands and sees that her expression is blank, except for what he thinks might be hurt flickering in her eyes. He turns around and almost flees the living room, not even throwing her a backward glance.
He stands in the hallway, listens for the sound of her leaving, resting his forehead against the wall. There's no stomping off in anger. No tears and sniffles. Just a quiet shuffle of feet, and the door closing behind her.
Logan enters the Neptune Country Club first, with Wallace following a few steps behind. Neptune High has rented the entire facility, and even he has to admit that the aesthetic in the ballroom and on the outdoor patio is impressive. He approaches the check-in table and sees two women who look vaguely familiar. He knows their names will escape him even if he tries to remember, and he really doesn't care to try.
It's clear they know him, though, as they sit up a little taller and stick their chests out to be more prominently displayed.
He barely stops himself from rolling his eyes and pauses for a moment to allow Wallace to catch up with him. When he turns back to the women at the table, he sees the one with long brown hair and side sweeping bangs glance down at his left hand and then awkwardly run a hand through her hair, sabotaging any attempt at looking casual.
"Logan Echolls. There was a rumor going around that you weren't going to be here."
"You mean people were gossiping about me? How original."
The brunette titters and smiles. Her friend with a pixie cut blushes a deep shade of red. He's about 90% certain that he made out with Pixie Cut at a party junior year. When she bites her lip as she catches his eye, he's 100% sure, and then is stumped when he tries to remember if he enjoyed it.
Side Bangs notices Wallace then, and her brow furrows before her eyes go wide. "And Wallace Fennel. You two came together?"
The women exchange glances, trying to communicate a host of questions with just their facial expressions. A rush of pleasure courses through Logan as an opportunity to mess with Wallace is handed to him.
"Yes, we came together." Logan slides a hand around Wallace's waist to pull him close, and Wallace quickly pushes him away with a frown and clenched jaw. "Together together, if you catch my meaning."
Wallace tries to respond, but all his words come out as monosyllabic noises. He settles for emphatically shaking his head.
Logan walks his index and middle finger up Wallace's arm, playing coy. "Come on dumplin', I said I was sorry."
He stands closer to Wallace and fights to keep his expression serious. He notes Side Bangs is pouting as she slides him the guest book to sign, which only encourages him to continue.
Wallace shoots him a glare, signs his own name without looking at the page and backs away, ignoring the stares of both women.
"Is this because I said your ass looks big in those slacks? You know I like some junk in the trunk." Logan clucks his tongue and looks at Pixie Cut, who is wordlessly holding both his and Wallace's name tags out to him. "Men, right?"
He shouts after Wallace, now twenty feet away from him. "Honeybun, you know the kids hate it when we fight."
He winks at the women, takes the nametags, and follows Wallace, rolling his eyes only when he hears a burst of conversation from Side Bangs and Pixie Cut the moment he steps away.
Wallace meets his arrival in the ballroom with a scowl. "You finished now?"
Logan hands him his nametag and smirks. "Just getting started."
"You win. I already regret this." At that moment Wallace's jaw goes slack as his eyes follow the progress of a woman with curly auburn hair walking across the room.
Logan starts a steady slow clap as his eyes also follow the woman. "And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how you wear a black dress." He smiles at the way Wallace doesn't even hear him, and then feels a pang of envy at his obvious excitement.
After Parker, there was a string of practically nameless women. He likes to think of himself as a serial monogamist, whose relationships simply never last longer than a month. It's been a while since a woman has made him lose the ability to maintain his cool, and he finds he misses the feeling of being unmoored.
He's never given much credence to the idea of 'it only takes one good woman', but the older he gets the more he thinks, in his case, it's probably true. He doesn't ruminate on the subject too often, as whenever he does, his mind immediately reminds him he had one once (or five times, depending on how one counts). He doubts the universe will be kind enough to extend him a sixth chance.
"I take it that's the never forgotten Jenny Roe?" He bumps Wallace's shoulder amicably, reminding him he's still standing there.
"That'd be her." He turns to face Logan, and his eyes are darting around the room, too excited to settle on one fixed spot. "I'm telling you, look up the term 'foxy lady' in a dictionary, and it's her picture you'd see."
Logan puts a hand up to stop Wallace from continuing. "Cool it, Shaft. What's your game plan?"
He looks confused for a moment and then shrugs his shoulders. "I figured I'd just offer to buy her a drink."
Logan shakes his head. Wallace's naivety is almost endearing. Almost. "First off, it's an open bar. And second, you can't just hit on a woman by buying her a drink."
Wallace gapes at him and is at a loss for words for a second. "But that's the way you hit on women."
His returning expression is smug and he wings an eyebrow, gesturing down the length of his body with one hand. "But look at me. I'm a god." He gestures to Wallace. "That won't work with you."
Wallace punches him in the shoulder and Logan winces, certain he was punched with more force than expressly necessary. He opens his mouth to make a comment about how 5' 7" pygmies are a lot stronger than he realized, but is distracted by the sudden presence of a slight arm wrapping around his shoulder.
He knows instantly who the arm belongs to, and sees her wrap the other one around Wallace's shoulder.
Instead of looking at her face, he focuses on the sensation of her forearm resting on his shoulder. After reveling in the feeling, his attention switches to finding the closest exit.
He's fucked, and this was a huge mistake.
It's so much worse when she speaks, and he almost groans at how the sound of her voice makes him just a little hard. "Boys, you should hear what people are saying about you."
He doesn't know if her dropping her arm from his shoulder is a sure sign that there is a god who actually cares about him, but he's taking it as one. With her attention on Wallace, who has wrapped her in a tight hug, he has about six seconds to put on his mask of complacency.
He knows he's in a tight spot. He can't use his go-to methods of turning people away because, this is Veronica and she knows him, but also because Wallace will call him out for being a dick. His only recourse is to act with polite disinterest.
It's not something he's ever managed with Veronica before, but he's older now. Wiser now. He can do polite disinterest.
When she turns from Wallace to face him, he wonders how much of a mistake it would be to grab her and kiss her. It's the combination of the gleam in her eye, the ring on her hand, and the head tilt she gives him that makes him realize that he doesn't stand a chance of leaving this interaction unscathed.
So much for disinterest.
"Well, put us out of our misery." They're the first words he's spoken to her in five and a half years, and he wonders if his voice affects her in the way hers affects him.
She gestures between him and Wallace and smiles. "Apparently the two of you had a secret romance while in high school and after we broke up the last time -"
She directs her smile at Logan, and it amazes him she can even mention their past romance without flinching.
"- you sought comfort in the arms of my best friend. The two of you have been an item ever since. You also have three adopted children, and all five of you are going to be on the cover of The Advocate next month."
Her shoulders are shaking with held in laughter, and he doesn't think he's ever seen a more beautiful sight. "It feels so good to not be the most talked about person at the reunion," she says.
If Veronica Mars had been the first ghost to visit Ebenezer Scrooge, the ghosts of past, present, and future would have been unnecessary. Because first, she would have tied Scrooge up in a bow of confusion with her wit and wordplay. Then as soon as he was completely disarmed, she would have smiled at him, and his miserly nature wouldn't have stood a chance. His story of redemption would have been complete in less than ten pages.
Logan notices there are a few laugh lines at the corners of her eyes and he files them away as places he must definitely kiss. For a blissful two seconds he lives in fantasy land, before reminding himself that acting on such an impulse would result in him being on the receiving end of a knee to the groin area, courtesy of the woman whose temple he wants to kiss
He's doesn't have the ability to resist her joy, which is why he returns her smile with a full watt version of his own.
Wallace, on the other hand, is decidedly less amused. He keeps looking back and forth between him and Veronica and finally throws his hands up in the air. "You laugh now, but how am I going to get anywhere with Jenny when she thinks Logan is my lover and we have a peck of children at home?"
Logan claps a hand on Wallace's shoulder. "Don't worry I'll sort it out." He expects Wallace to shrug off the hand, but instead Veronica takes hold of his wrist and drops it to his side.
The feeling of his hand dully hitting his leg barely registers. What he feels keenly is the place on the top of his hand where her palm touched. He deduces that Veronica's hand lotion must contain traces of sulfuric acid, because there's no reason her touch alone should make his skin burn like it is.
"Excuse me? What makes you think you're doing anything?" She's standing with her hands on her hips and Logan pivots to take in her full appearance.
The first thing he notices is that she's wearing a dress. He can't remember the last time he's seen her wear a dress, but sees that the skirt is loose in such a way that if he grabbed and spun her it would dance across her legs. He's tempted to try, but given his luck, it would be at that moment her husband would enter and he'd say something dumb like, 'I'll flip a coin for her.'
Instead, he points to himself with both hands. "I'm the wingman. Apparently there was an election and everything."
She gasps and looks at Wallace with mock horror. "Was my name even on the ballot?"
He shrugs her off. "V, you live in San Francisco. A man with my level of game needs a wingman within constant reach."
Logan's about to make a comment about how if he truly had game he wouldn't need a wingman, but Veronica is quicker, smacking Wallace upside the head and leveling a glare at him.
She points an accusing finger at Logan. "You've been a bad influence on him."
He shouldn't take that as a compliment, but he does. He bounces on the balls of his feet because, as much as her presence unsettles him, it also makes him giddy and he's greatly enjoying this tug of war over Wallace.
She claps her hands together and then holds them up in the position of a diplomat about to proctor a deal. "Okay, this is what I'm offering. If I get Jenny Roe over here in less than five minutes, I am Wallace's official wingman. Which means I get right of first refusal for all wingman duties from now to eternity." She crosses her hands over one another to offer Wallace her right and Logan her left.
They look at each other, nod, and then take the hand she's extending, giving it a firm shake.
She beams at both of them and rubs her hands together. "This is going to be cake."
Logan stands almost motionless as he watches her make a beeline for Jenny Roe standing at the bar, the skirt of her dress skimming her knees as she moves. He's powerless to stop staring as she puts a hand out for Jenny to shake, talks animatedly in a way that seems to use her entire body, and then turns around with Jenny following her, heading straight for him and Wallace, now holding two beers.
Wallace stares at him wide eyed. "Holy shit. She did it."
Laughing, he marks this as one of the few times he's ever heard Wallace swear and looks at his watch. "Took her less than four minutes. Thus ends my run as your wingman."
Wallace chuckles and shakes his head. "Probably a good thing. Most of the women you talk to on my behalf end up wanting you anyway."
He flattens his tie out and does his best to look at ease as Veronica and Jenny come to stand in front of him.
"Jenny, you might remember Wallace Fennel from high school. The one time star of the Neptune High basketball team." She smiles brightly at them both. "Wallace, Jenny is the Youth Program Coordinator at the YMCA in the '02 zip. She says they're looking for basketball couches for their junior high team. Know anyone qualified?"
Logan chuckles as he sees Wallace stop himself from raising his hand, and then nod slowly in an attempt to be casual.
"Yeah, I might know someone. Can I impress you with my extensive athletic accomplishments over a drink?"
"You can try." Jenny smiles at him and holds up her champagne glass to show that it's half full, and then drains it with one gulp. "Look at that. I need a fresh one."
Wallace leads her away with a hand placed lightly on her lower back and shoots Veronica a grin over his shoulder.
Handing Logan one of the beers, Veronica tilts hers to clink the neck of his. "Sorry for putting you out of a job."
He laughs and takes a long drink. "Enjoy your victory, but I'd like to remind you that cheaters never prosper."
She tries to keep her expression serious, but the corners of her mouth twitch. "How did I cheat?"
"My guess, you used your resources at the paper to do a search on Miss Roe. You had insider information."
"Is it against the rules to use every resource at my disposal?"
She bites her thumbnail as she ponders her own question, and Logan feels his breath leave him watching the familiar move. He needs to get out of this conversation and soon.
Once he does, he'll follow his tried and true method of dulling his feelings: He'll pick up the first girl who can hold down a decent conversation, take her out for a couple drinks and then, depending on how he feels, hit a single, double, or triple.
He shakes his head, his eyes downcast, and takes a couple of steps away to put more distance between them. "No, it's not. Nothing's against the rules when one's true love is in question, right?"
He looks up at her and it's the first time he's seen her smile falter. She nods quickly and takes a sip of her beer, looking around the room.
Because he can't help but pick at the wound a little just to see if it's healed, he gestures to the rings on her left hand. "Where's the bestower of the crown jewels?"
"Huh?" Her eyes return to his face and then see where he's pointing. "Oh, he got a work call. He's out on the patio."
"Great. Can't wait to meet him." He grimaces when he hears how bitter the words come out.
She opens her mouth to speak, but thinks better of it, and offers him a tight-lipped smile.
He sighs a little louder than he intends to and rubs the back of his neck, trying to dispel the tension.
Part of his purpose in coming tonight was to show Veronica he's not the same guy he was six years ago. Something he has yet to make clear.
He clears his throat and shifts his body slightly to stand in her line of sight. "Veronica, I want to apologize for what happened -"
She cuts him off as soon as she realizes what he's about to say and shakes her head. "No need, Logan. It was a long time ago."
He can't remember a time when Veronica Mars didn't want answers and it throws him for a second, but he tries again. "If I could just explain -"
Again, she doesn't let him continue. "Let's not do this here." She's drumming her fingers on her beer bottle and all but refusing to look him in the eye.
He takes a deep breath and nods. It won't do him any good to force her to listen to an apology she clearly doesn't want to hear. And he guesses he understands that, given their environment: a ballroom with four hundred of their former classmates, and him seconds away from meeting her husband.
Seeing her name flash across the screen, he answers at once, not sure if he's waiting for an explanation or going to offer one.
"What do you want, Veronica?" He's already exhausted by keeping his distance from her, and he's only spoken five words.
"Are you coming to my graduation?"
"Now, now, where are your manners? I asked you a question first." The calm and detached tone of his own voice makes him cringe. But if she can be detached enough to sleep together one last time before she moves five hundred miles away, then he can find a way to pretend it doesn't bother him.
"I'm getting ready to leave for LA, and just thought we should talk about what happened yesterday." He thinks he must be imagining the way her words sound rushed, almost desperate.
He clutches the phone to his ear, doing laps of his kitchen as he speaks. "Nothing happened. You were just selling something that I wasn't interested in buying. Maybe next time find a customer who hasn't already sampled all your goods."
It all happens so fast. The words are in his brain, then on his tongue, and then spoken as to completely dismiss anything she might be feeling. He hears her breath catch at his words, and he squeezes his eyes shut, hating that the insults come back so readily.
"I thought we left the slut jokes behind in high school."
It hurts him to pretend to feel nothing. If it was anyone else speaking to her like this, he'd kick their ass, and he decides to find a way to punish himself as soon as he hangs up. "I'm a sucker for a classic."
She doesn't respond, and he knows she's waiting for him to take it back. For a rush of apology to make its way through the phone line. He hears her breathing deep, but neither of them speaks.
He wants this to feel better than it does. He wants his cutting remarks to make them even, but it just makes it worse. He opens his mouth to talk, and maybe even confess, but she interrupts him without knowing it.
Now her voice is calm. Detached. "Bye, Logan."
He sits, staring at his phone, wishing not only that he was the type of guy who could call her back now, but that he was the type of guy who didn't fuck things up in the first place.
There's a stretch of awkward silence as they stand side by side, occasionally taking sips of their beers, looking around to find someone else to talk to, but neither moving away.
He doesn't know how long they've been standing that way, shooting each other cautious glances without speaking, when Dick approaches.
Dick's expression is contrite, and the shock of that alone is what keeps Logan from walking away.
He clears his throat and stands shifting from foot to foot. "Logan." He nods at Veronica and offers her a small smile. "Hey, Veronica."
She gives a half wave, wiggling her fingers. "Hey, Dick. You look nice."
If Logan is expecting a traditional Dick Casablancas joke about how he always knew Veronica had the hots for him, he's sorely disappointed as Dick just thanks her and returns the compliment.
Logan stares at Veronica hard, wanting to dress her down for even talking to him, but then he turns his attention to Dick. "What do you want?"
Dick blows out a puff of air, as if expecting this reaction. "I was hoping we could get a beer."
Logan waves his bottle in Dick's face, his jaw clenched, his stare unwavering. "I've got one. Maybe next reunion."
He ignores the way Veronica's eyes are bouncing from his face to Dick's. He sees from his periphery that her face is scrunched up trying to piece things together.
Dick sighs. "I was hoping for sooner than that, but it's your call, I guess." He backs away from them both, his eyes downcast
Logan takes a few deep breaths as he watches Dick walk away, mainly to stop himself from yelling, "Why didn't you tell me what he did to you?" at an unsuspecting Veronica.
When she starts talking, her tone is innocent, and he's amused she thinks she can fool him. "So, you two aren't friends anymore?"
"Nope." A part of him hopes that she'll press the issue. Because that will be proof that a part of the old Veronica who wants to know everything about him exists. And more than that, it's a chance for him to demonstrate that he remained loyal to her.
He looks down at her and can actually see her weighing her response options. Eventually, she shrugs her shoulders, and the disappointment he feels when he sees she doesn't care is sharp.
"I guess that means you owe me a thank you," she says.
He furrows his brow and cocks his head to look down at her. "For what?"
"For loaning you Wallace. Seems like his entrance into your inner circle came at just the right time." She pokes his chest with her index finger. "But I'm warning you, if I ever leave San Francisco and come back to Neptune, I want him returned to me in pristine condition."
He lightly brushes her hand away and then rubs his chest as if she's hurt him. "How do you know he won't be the one to corrupt me?"
She snorts out a laugh, and he notes that making her laugh is still satisfying.
"So, not that I'm wishing to be rid of you or anything, but don't you have other people you want to see? Mac and Weevil, maybe?" He's testing her again and wonders if she hears the screaming subtext, 'Tell me you want to be here with me!'
"Mac's company sent her on a three week business trip to Tokyo. She debated saying no for about thirty seconds, and Eli's not here, but I see him all the time." She makes the comment about Eli as if it's common knowledge and he lifts an eyebrow, making it clear it's not.
He wonders why she's being so nice to him. He expected a moment or two of small talk before she made an excuse to leave. The fact that Veronica is going easy on him makes him wonder if the way they left things all those years ago was actually an incredibly vivid fever dream.
"I wasn't planning on coming either, but I lost a bet." She looks embarrassed at that admission, and he laughs. He doesn't have a single memory of her ever losing at anything.
"We'll get back to the fact that the great Veronica Mars lost a bet, but first, explain that whole you and Weevs hanging out, thing."
"My dad got him a job with a private investigator in San Francisco." She shakes her head and takes another sip of her beer. "He's actually married and has a baby on the way."
Logan chokes on the beer in his mouth. He didn't think anything could really shock him anymore. But Weevil Fucking Navarro is married.
"Is he intentionally modeling his life after your dad's? I guess 'Weevil for Sheriff' does have a nice ring to it."
She rolls her eyes at him and then bumps his shoulder with her own. "There are worse people he could model himself after."
"Maybe I should move to San Francisco. Apparently that's the place to go to get married."
He tries to make the comment playful, but hears the way the bitterness seeps through.
When she doesn't say anything and simply exhales a sigh laden with, what he assumes, is passive aggressive judgment, he snaps.
He places his empty beer bottle on a waiter's passing tray and grabs a glass of champagne, downing it in one gulp, before setting it aside.
"Thanks for the invitation to your wedding by the way." He flashes her the okay sign, despite everything in his demeanor communicating that nothing about this is okay. "It feels really good to have one's remaining childhood friend pretend you don't exist."
She gasps in surprise at his anger before recovering. "What were you expecting, Logan? Especially after - "
He stands over her, leering, uncertain exactly where this new wave of hurt disguising as jackassery is coming from. "Don't you know you always invite wealthy people to your wedding because we give the best presents? I think I also still have a pair of your underwear I could have returned."
Veronica slams her empty beer bottle down on the cocktail table they're standing beside and pushes him away from her with both of her hands, her tone low but heavy with accusation. "God, this was a mistake. Why am I even talking to you right now?"
She turns around and crashes into a man who stands a full foot over her. He has dark hair, neatly parted and styled to the side, facial hair that is more carefully groomed five o'clock shadow than a beard, and bright green eyes. She looks startled for a moment, but then the man puts a hand on her shoulder, kisses her cheek, and she relaxes.
Logan frowns when he realizes that this is the husband. Fuck. He tries to remember why he decided two hours earlier seeing Veronica with her husband was a good idea. Wallace. He blames Wallace.
All of the anger coursing through Veronica's that was making her almost vibrate with feeling has left, her husband's casual touch calming her. She wraps her arms around the man's neck, stands up on her tiptoes, and places a light kiss on his lips.
Logan doesn't know what he wants to do more: flip a table over or vomit. He contemplates doing both at the same time. And the worst part is he can't look away from her arms wrapped around the man's neck.
"Sorry that took so long, sweets. But you'll be pleased to know that from my position out in the hallway I was able to pick my pony."
He turns her around and points over her shoulder to a tall blonde woman standing in a small group that includes Shelly Pomeroy and a guy Logan recognizes from his English class. "Her and him." The guy he points to is also in the blonde's group and Logan sees it's Rick Lowe, the captain of the baseball team their senior year.
Veronica looks over her shoulder at him and raises her eyebrows, shaking her head. "Not a chance."
Logan watches her search the room, uncertain what or who she's looking for. Her eyes light up at the sight of Wallace and Jenny still chatting, and seemingly getting along quite well.
She points to them. "Wallace and Jenny."
Her husband shakes his head at her. "I call bullshit. You have insider information."
"You're just scared I'm going to win. Again." She turns around and pops her hip, her arms folded across her chest.
"You'd like to think that, but I've got your number, and I think you're going to lose."
Logan watches her husband tuck a strand of hair behind her ear and he physically recoils, feeling bereft that she lets this guy do his thing.
He wants nothing more than to leave them alone. He can get drunk, pretend this night never happened, and maybe call a matchmaker service the following day to beg their help.
He's not watching where he steps and crashes into the table Veronica placed her beer bottle on. It's not enough to send anything careening to the floor, but it does bring Veronica's attention back to him, which dashes his hope of a quick escape.
He wishes his discomfort wasn't quite so obvious, because Veronica is now looking at him like she feels sorry for him. This just makes it worse because really, this whole situation is so much easier to handle when she's mad at him.
Her husband's voice steals her focus from him again. He realizes that he still doesn't know the guy's name, and he doesn't really want to know it, because that will make him a real person and not just a nameless douche he's entitled to hate.
"Fine, I'll allow it. But, if I win we spend Christmas at my parents' house this year."
Veronica groans and theatrically rolls her head back, then snaps her gaze back to his face. "If I win we take a three day weekend away and you leave your phone at home."
They shake on it, and this man he loathes, pulls Veronica into the crook of his arm and drapes his around her shoulder. He extends his free hand, and Logan grudgingly accepts and shakes.
"I'm Zach."
Logan stops himself from saying, 'I'm Logan, and you're wearing my ring' and settles for giving his first name only.
Zach's eyes go wide in understanding. "The ex-boyfriend, Logan?"
Despite finding nothing funny about the situation, a chuckle escapes his lips, and he shrugs. "Is that how I'm being described?" He stares at Veronica while speaking. "How exciting."
Veronica ignores that little comment and pulls on Zach's arms a little. He looks down at her, his brow furrowed, his gaze questioning. "You tugged?"
She smiles at him and gestures with her head that she wants to go to the other side of the room. Logan notices she hasn't actually looked at him since Zach's arrival, and he figures even this new Veronica who is pretending everything is fine between them, has reached her limit.
"Come on." She gestures towards a tall, thin girl with long brown hair that reaches down to her waist. "I once saved that girl's dog from a dog-napping ring. I want to see your face as she tells you how awesome I am."
If Logan didn't know her as well as he does, he'd buy this excuse as genuine, but as it is, he can see that this is her way of truncating an 'ex-boyfriend meet current-husband' interaction.
The way Zach is staring at him makes it clear that Zach has no desire to avoid it, however, and Logan's thrilled to have his first solid reason for disliking this guy. It's clear that Veronica wants to get away from him, but to prove some point, her husband chooses to stay. Which, while it must suck for her, is great for Logan.
"Sweets, I thought we came to the reunion to talk to your old friends. Isn't Logan an old friend?"
Veronica grimaces and then nods, a barely audible, "He is," escaping her lips.
Logan wonders why she doesn't just contradict Zach's assessment and then take him to talk to all of her previous PI clients. When she steps closer to Zach, wrapping an arm around his waist, her eyes downcast, another piece of the Veronica puzzle slips into place: even Zach doesn't know about their post-graduation almost hookup.
It shouldn't, but it warms him that he and Veronica share a secret.
"So, ex-boyfriend Logan, anything I should know about my wife?" Zach shoots him a look and waves an arm in invitation, making it clear that he has no intention of giving anything Logan says much credence.
"How much time do you have?" Veronica's lips form a grim smile and Logan's face is radiant with the opportunity to put Zach in his place. He just wishes Veronica wasn't in the middle of it. "Well, I'm sure you've learned that hell hath no fury like Veronica scorned."
Zach laughs and shakes his head, already dismissing Logan's words. "Actually, I make it a point to avoid pissing off my wife. Because, you know, I love her and everything."
The implication that Logan never actually loved her is clear to all three of them, and Logan wants to say that he'd bet good money that he's pissing her off right now. Veronica's eyes squeeze shut, but she doesn't tell Zach to stop, and Logan irrationally feels an acute sense of betrayal.
He tries to smile, but knows it probably looks more like a snarl, which he's actually okay with. "You find that spot on her neck that makes her head loll back? It's a good one."
Veronica's grip on Zach's waist tightens and she snaps into action. "I'm pretty sure that's not what he meant by advice, Logan, but thank you for your concern."
Speaking formally, he salutes both Veronica and Zach. "Never let it be said that Logan, the ex-boyfriend, doesn't have a benevolent spirit."
The spirit of false merriment has left the group, but Logan couldn't feel more at ease. That is, until he notices Veronica running a reassuring hand up and down Zach's back.
Logan literally bites his tongue, figuring he's pushed the man's buttons enough for the time being.
"Honey, I'm thirsty. Why don't you go get us some drinks?" Zach and Logan both stare at her, well aware that she's making the suggestion solely to break up their pissing contest.
Zach grits his teeth, looks over at the bar, and stares at Logan as he responds. "There's more than twenty people in line. I think we can make do with champagne."
"Oh, I'm so sorry for phrasing that like a question you could say no to." She stands with her hand on her hip, and the heat of her gaze brings Zach's focus back to her face.
It thrills Logan to see that the Veronica who fights her own battles remains.
Zach laughs, and then lowers his head to whisper in a voice loud enough for Logan to hear. "You sure you'll be fine?"
"Absolutely. I'll join you in a minute. Just need to wrap things up with Logan." She throws him an easy smile, and Zach nods in acquiescence.
Looking at the long line again, Zach sighs and shakes his head. "I'll be back in five, ten years max." He places another kiss on her cheek and backs away.
"It was so nice to meet you, Zach! Next time you guys are in town, let's do lunch." Logan breaks into a wide grin as Zach scowls at him.
The moment Zach turns around, all the energy Logan mustered to fuel his bravado is gone. He knows Veronica sees the way he almost goes limp, which is the only explanation for why she doesn't lay into him for his behavior.
From Wallace he's learned the following about Veronica and Zach: they met at the news station in San Francisco where Veronica interned right after graduation. They didn't date until they both, by some stroke of fate, got jobs at the San Francisco Chronicle within four months of one another. He apparently asked her out for close to nine months before she finally said yes. They dated for a year, and they've now been married for a year and a half.
"So that's your husband." His voice is lower and more tentative than he would like.
She squeezes her eyes shut. "Yeah, that's him. And you can stop being an ass any time now. He's a good man." She looks up to the ceiling of the room and then brushes a lock of hair from her eyes.
Logan gestures to the line where Zach now stands, chatting amiably with several of the people he's standing near. All women, Logan notes, and then looks back at Veronica. "What's with that little bet you guys made?"
She laughs and mindlessly adjusts the strap of her dress. "Whenever we go to parties like this, we guess who the first people will be to leave together. I'm nine for twelve, so I don't really know how he thinks he's going to win this one."
Logan snaps his fingers and points a finger to the sky in realization. "He's the one you lost the bet to, isn't he?"
She nods and he smiles, a dark little smirk, this new information providing new fuel for his dislike. "Classy move tricking you into interacting with a bunch of people who made your adolescence hell. Where do I submit his nomination for husband of the year?"
She huffs out a breath, her eyes flinty and unyielding. "Knock it off, Logan. I feel like I'm being pretty understanding, given the circumstances."
He gives a little self-deprecating shrug, but he's actually smiling on the inside. It sounds so much like something she'd say to him ten years ago that it actually makes him nostalgic.
She swings her arms back and forth, and then stops their movement to clasp her hands behind her back. "Are you seeing anyone?"
He looks at her closely, to see if there's any discomfort in her face as she asks this, and then scolds himself. Why would there be? "I see a lot of people. Nothing serious. What's your new last name, anyway?"
"Zach's last name is Wild. I hyphenated."
"Fuck, seriously? Your name is Veronica Mars-Wild?" She nods and his expression is grim. He always thought 'Logan Echolls' was a solid name, but it doesn't hold a candle to 'Zachary Wild.' "You sound like a Bond villain."
She chuckles, but it's not even remotely sincere.
"I remember you issuing an edict in college that you were never getting married. Guess you were just waiting for the right guy to come along huh?" It's not the question he actually wants to ask, but he doesn't think it's okay to ask a married woman if she still thinks of him.
She stares at him, and he thinks she must hear the actual question based on how her features soften. "I also thought I was going to join the FBI and that Nickleback wasn't all that bad." She shrugs like this all so easy to say, but he hears the heft behind her words. "People grow up."
He nods, but he's not really listening anymore, because his mind is busy comparing himself to Zach. He's 6'0", Zach is close to 6'2". He fucked around for a while then started his own company with inherited money, Zach earned his position as a staff writer. Both of his parents are dead, Zach has parents to spend holidays with. And here's the clincher: He messed things up with Veronica, Zach is married to her.
Zach wins.
He wonders how long Veronica and Zach dated before they slept together. Wonders if Keith likes him. If she lies to him, or tells the full truth at all times. If she's ever tracked his cell phone.
Veronica doesn't say anything, and he can feel how things have taken a turn. He's feeling insecure, and they both know he does and says dumbass things when he's feeling that way.
He's trying desperately to relax, but staring at Zach as he stands in line isn't helping.
Especially when he sees the guy help a woman readjust the clasp on her necklace so it's behind her neck. Another woman slips Zach her business card and he surreptitiously puts it in his pocket before catching Logan's eye. Zach freezes for a second, but then gives Logan a grim smile and rolls his eyes, trying to downplay the situation.
He thinks that maybe he could handle this whole situation better if the guy who she was married to wasn't so clearly a dog. Because he knows he's done a lot of terrible things to her, but cheating was never one of them. He hates her a little for falling in love with a guy who does, because that means she's not the shrewd and smart girl he remembers.
"Can I throw my hat in the ring?"
She raises an eyebrow at this question that comes out of nowhere, but before she can ask him to clarify, he continues.
"I want to hazard a guess as to who is going to hookup." His tone is at once sarcastic and casual, and he can tell the mixture confuses her.
"Sure. I guess that's fine. What do you want to win?" Her eyes are narrowed, and she takes a small step back, probably because she can tell he's plotting something.
"You have to say the words, 'Logan, you were right.'" He folds his arms over his chest, no longer disguising the edge to his words.
Her laugh is brittle, her words cautious, trying to find the trap he's setting. "That's it?"
He nods and she shrugs her shoulders in acceptance. He turns her around to face the drink line and points to the woman who handed Zach her business card. "Her."
An admonishing voice is sounding loud in his head, telling him to stop this. Telling him that he's better than this. Curiously, the voice sounds a lot like Veronica's. He shakes his head to clear it away, and continues.
Veronica nods and he leans forward a little more so he's pressed up against her. She stiffens, and he laughs. Pointing to Zach he finishes, "And him."
She forces him to back away by hitting him with her elbow. "Very funny, Logan."
He looks at her innocently, placing his hands over her chest. "Who said I was joking?" He gestures to the expanse of the room and the people around them. "At the end of the night, let's take a survey of all the women in the room. Your husband will probably have hit on half of them."
She rolls her eyes, places a hand on her hip, and gives him a pointed look. "He's a flirt, Logan, that's all. Apparently I have a type."
He can feel his face grow hot at the way Veronica actually thinks he is at all similar to sleaze that she's married to. More than that, he's pissed that she so easily dismisses Zach's flirtatious behavior, but never extended the same courtesy to him. Because ostensibly, Zach is the guy you trust, and he's not.
He shoves his hands into his pockets, fisting his mother's lighter in a tight grip, and tries to keep the anger from his voice. "I think it's pretty obvious to everyone around us that your husband is cheating on you."
"Remember how I was a PI for six years and tailed cheating husbands for a living? I'd know." Her fingernails dig crescent shapes into her skin as she speaks.
He laughs at her, and relishes the way her face contorts at the sound. "You only saw the husbands with their bit on the side. You never actually saw them with their wives. It might not be tonight, but sometime this weekend, Zach is going to make an excuse so he can slip away from you, and into her."
She narrows her eyes at him, and clenches her fists. Her chest is heaving with anger, and he actually admires her for the way she's maintaining control. She speaks through gritted teeth, and Logan observes that if it wasn't for that, she'd be yelling. "Fuck you, Logan. Just because you're miserable doesn't mean you get to tear my life apart."
She turns around quickly, and Logan follows after her, not wanting the rest of the room to hear their conversation.
"Well, I'd rather be miserable than have a total joke for a marriage."
This freezes her to her spot, and he doesn't know if she's going to face him again or keep moving towards Zach. With a calculated deliberateness, she turns around, and her smile is almost manic. She starts laughing, but it's weak, and Logan can see the tears in the corners of her eyes.
It's the tears that make him realize just what he's doing. Her mom cheated on her dad. His dad cheated on his mom. So, while it might be true, it's utterly cruel of him to throw this particular fact in her face like it's a joke.
He doesn't know if he's ever regretted anything more. Because tonight he saw Veronica happy, and laughing, and now he's taking that away from her simply because she had the gall to move on with her life.
"My marriage is a joke? Really, Logan?" She rubs her hands together, and crosses her arms. "A joke like your graduation party was a joke?"
Logan moves to turn away, but her reflexes are quick, and she grabs hold of his arm, squeezing tight.
Her voice cracks as she starts to talk, but it gains strength as the words pour out of her. "You basically called me a slut and then took six months to even attempt to apologize, so you can stop acting like the victim any time now."
She drops his arm, and he figures he owes her the chance to scream and rail at him. He tries to shut off his brain from taking in all of her words and maybe protect himself a little from where he knows this is going.
"You really fucked us up, Logan. Do you know how stupid I felt thinking that was our chance to start over?" Her pause to take a shaky breath allows plenty of time for the implication of her words to hit him.
The only reason he's been able to think about his graduation day without throwing up is because he's convinced himself it didn't mean anything to her. Hearing Veronica contradict that self-deception makes his stomach turn.
His eyes dart to the left and right, checking to see if anyone has noticed the intensity of their conversation, but no one is paying them any attention. He can't even use the need to be discrete as an excuse to get her to stop.
"Even worse than that, I still managed to convince myself that you were going to show up to my graduation."
His eyes widen at this piece of new information. Despite everything, she still had faith he'd come through.
She draws an invisible circle around her face with her index finger. "This is the face of delusion right here."
He interrupts, rushing forward to try and fix this, if not with a touch than an explanation. "Veronica, I'm sorry, but -"
She silences him with a look, and raises her voice to talk over him. "I actually decided that if you showed up and apologized, I'd forgive you. Because you always did that for me." Her shoulders are rigid, trying to maintain some semblance of control, and she wipes at her eyes to get rid of the tears that have gathered there.
For his part, he can't speak, not because there aren't words he could offer, but because he missed his window long ago to say any of them. He looks her in the eye, because he owes her that at the very least.
"But you didn't." The words are so quiet he almost doesn't hear them.
He reaches his hand out to take hold of her elbow, but she jerks her arm away before he can get close enough.
Then it's like she flicks a switch, and her gaze is hard and resolute, her tone laced with steel. "You didn't want me, Logan. So don't punish me for finding someone who did."
He needs to find a way to tell her that he's always wanted her. That he still wants her. That he foolishly misread the situation and it was a just a misguided act of self-preservation. That after he said those things to her on the phone, he drank until the image of her alone on the couch no longer tortured him.
But she doesn't give him the chance.
She turns around and heads straight for Zach, who is holding their drinks and standing with Wallace and Jenny, all the while watching her interaction with Logan. He takes a step towards her as she approaches, and tries to fold her into a hug, but can't with a drink in each hand. She whispers in his ear and he nods, handing the drinks to Wallace. She hugs Wallace quickly, and then leaves the ballroom with Zach close behind her, neither pausing to look at Logan.
Logan watches them until he hears Wallace call out his name. He walks over and takes a gin and tonic out of his hand and drinks it down, knowing it's going to be the first of many.
He's messed up again, like he always does. But this time he won't wait six months to try and fix it. Because even if he didn't prove it tonight, he's not the same person he was six years ago.
"Man, what happened to Veronica? She was really upset."
"I'll give you one guess." Logan slams the glass down on the table and quirks an eyebrow.
Wallace groans and rolls his eyes at him. "Do you always have to be such an ass?"
Logan lets out a strained burst of laughter. "It appears that way."
Seven months later, Logan and Wallace sit at a sports bar, grabbing a quick lunch, when Logan manages to ask the question that's been on his mind for the past week.
True to the commitment he made to himself, he's called Veronica once every few weeks to try and apologize. His messages are always short, and she never returns them, but he thinks it's probably more important that she know he's trying to do things differently than that they actually talk.
The last time he called, the automated message told him her phone number was no longer in service.
"How's Veronica doing?" He takes a drink of his beer and wipes his mouth with his hand.
Wallace bobs his head from side to side and his face screws up a little. "She's doing better. Her dad and I were worried for a while, but she's in angry-Veronica mode now, so we figure in a weird way, she's okay."
Logan crinkles his forehead and doesn't wait to swallow the food in his mouth before asking, "What are you talking about?" He hopes to god it's not what he suspects.
Setting down his beer bottle, he grimaces. "Shit, I forgot I wasn't supposed to say anything. I just – I just, oh she's going to kill me."
Logan shrugs. "Well, if you're going to die anyway, you might as well tell me."
Clearing his throat, he kneads his hands together, clearly unsure if he should. Finally, he exhales. "Zach cheated on Veronica. Their divorce was just finalized last week."
The beer in Logan's throat sits there for a second, before he's able to force himself to swallow. "Shit." Well that explains the changed phone number, at least.
"Yeah, you're telling me. I thought Keith was going to book the first flight to San Fran and kick the guy's ass." Wallace shakes his head and takes a large bite of his burger.
Logan's more than a little stunned by this revelation because, as certain as he'd been he was right, he hadn't wanted to be. Not really.
He knows rationally he's not the one to blame for Veronica's marriage ending, but he still feels guilty.
He takes a deep breath and presses his hands down on the tabletop. "Wallace, you still want to know what happened between me and Veronica all those years ago?"
He offers up a silent plea to whoever may be listening to prevent Wallace from punching him, and at Wallace's nod, starts talking. "Okay, well, after everyone left the graduation party - "
A/N 3: I promise, everything will be okay! Would love to hear your thoughts in a review. Even if you use colorful Shakespearean insults like "Thou art an artless strumpet!"
A/N 4: Working on "I Know That Face", and hope to have a new chapter posted by early next week.