Author's Notes:

This story begins post "Spit & Eggs" and begins on New Year's Eve. It contains an allusion to a mild spoiler, though I doubt it plays out the same way here as it may on the show. It's a LoVe fanfiction with some Ensemble. It is a bit angsty, as I don't know how to write anything that isn't. Not sure why I used the song, though if you don't know it, you should find the lyrics, as the gap in it can help you denote the gaps in time, if you're so inclined.

The underlines represent new sections since doesn't let me section the stories off with my usual methods.

Disclaimer:

I don't own any of this stuff. Not the characters. Not the names. Not the song. No lawsuits, please!

Part One
Before Midnight

Logan watched her from across the room, and he felt like throwing up in his gin and tonic. Instead, he finished it. This could be a metaphor for their whole relationship – this room, these looks, this feeling underneath his skin. She was always just across the room, not looking at him. Mostly.

She looked over once and looked away. Then, she looked back, just long enough to mean something – but not long enough to mean what he wanted it to mean. Not that he expected anything different. She gave him a tight smile, a shrug, and the tiniest bit of a head tilt. Barely acknowledgment.

So? What is it I want? I broke up with her.

Not that logic mattered. If logic could cure him, he would have never touched Veronica Mars. Never kissed her. Never fallen in love with her. Never felt this way. He wanted to look away, but he didn't.

"Dude, just, go nail someone who looks kinda like her, only hotter," Dick said, coming up to Logan. "Like that girl over there."

Dick gestured at another gorgeous, tiny, blonde girl who – to Logan – looked nothing like Veronica.

"Great idea, Dick. I'll get right on that."

"Because, seriously, dude: the emo routine? Old news," Dick said. "It's almost a new year. Get over it."

"Yeah. Okay."

Logan walked away to get another drink.

Veronica knew he was watching her, and it was pissing her off. She caught him, and he didn't flinch. She turned away, shaken, but she didn't back down. She shot him a wide-eyed look, tilting her head, as if to say, "What the hell?" but she just got the same blank, unflinching stare. So, she turned back towards Mac and Piz.

He didn't look away even when she turned around. She could see his reflection in the window, his eyes blurring, but obviously unmoving, but she could also feel it, coursing through her skin, burning her eyelashes and fingertips. She wanted to turn around and throw something at him.

What does he think he's doing? He broke up with me.

Not that she would actually say anything. If it were anybody else, she'd call him on his bullshit. But not Logan Echolls. She'd never get anywhere. Never find answers. Never understand.

"You want to go?" Mac asked. "You look like you want to go."

She shook her head. Veronica wanted to say yes, and it should have been so easy. It's not like she didn't have a thousand reasons – besides Logan Echolls – to leave one of these parties. But if she said yes at that moment, it would have felt like defeat.

She looked around at Mac and Piz, who'd been trailing them all night. "I just need something to drink. Anyone else want anything?"

"Uh – " Piz held up a beer already in his hand. "I'm good." He looked like he was going to say something else, but he didn't.

"Here?" Mac asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Don't worry. I still have coasters." Veronica said, pulling one out of her jacket.

Mac shook her head. "Thanks anyway."

Veronica walked away, towards bar.

He was standing at the bar with a full drink when she approached. He downed it while she ordered hers, still looking at her, four feet away – not speaking.

She wasn't going to break the silence. She had come up to order a beer – enough to dull the very edges, but not enough to make a dent – but instead she ordered a screwdriver. A double. She drank half of it on the way back and willed him to stay at the bar.

If he didn't want to be with her, he could at least stay away.

He watched her order the drink and test it with the coaster. Not many girls at the party still had coasters. It was as if the rapes were old news, gone. Nothing was ever gone for Veronica. Rightly so, he guessed. Vigilance thy name is Mars.

He ordered his third drink in as many minutes and followed her.

This was crazy. He was stalking his ex – who he broke up with – at a party, watching her talk with Mac and Piz. That idiot looked as though he wanted to make a move, and Logan didn't know what he'd do if he did. He tried to imagine Veronica dancing with Piz. Or kissing him. Or –

Fuck. Why am I doing this?

And what did he mean by this?

He followed her again, as she walked outside. He wished someone would just hit him. Knock him out. Make him stop. He got drunker as he looked at her, watching her hands move. Was she getting more emphatic as she got drunker, or was everything just more animated, blurring in his gin-soaked eyes.

A guy from his sociology class came up with his girlfriend. She was pretty. It was a guy he liked. Went surfing with a few times. Studied with once. The two of them talked to him, but he didn't really listen. He must not have said enough back, because they walked away within fifteen minutes.

She was surrounded by people, looking effortless. Friends. His friends were all off trying to pick someone up. This was like the anti-Neptune High. Not that he minded being alone. He used to have to try. Now, it came easy. It was strange to see her so encircled, though. So bright.

Veronica drank her drink in periodic gulps. It tasted horrible, and it was barely orange. It was mostly warm vodka – probably three or four shots worth. She watched Piz and Mac talk, as though she was listening. Something about a band.

Wallace came over once and told them about the girl he'd picked up. He was leaving early, and he asked Piz to stay out late. Good for him. Veronica couldn't even manage a good sex joke at his expense, so she just said "Happy New Year."

"You okay?" Wallace asked before he left. "You want me to go kick his ass before I go?" He quipped.

Veronica smiled. "Nah. Go get some ass while the getting's good. I've got my stun gun if I really want some violence."

"That's the Veronica I know," He said with a smile. "See you in 2007." He looked at Mac and Piz. "Catch you guys later. Much later," he said, looking at Piz.

"I'll stay out till two at least, I promise," Piz said, shrugging. "But you owe me the same."

Wallace raised an eyebrow, as if at the very idea of it. "Yeah. Sure. You let me know when you want to collect that. I'm not holding my breath."

Mac laughed, and Piz shot her a look.

"Hey!"

Veronica had mostly stopped listening to them, and the next few minutes passed like an old silent film, just frames in slow motion, moving choppy through the night.

"I can't believe it," she said, annoyed. She might have interrupted them because Mac looked at her, surprised. And Piz looked down at the floor. He did that a lot.

"What does he think he's doing?" Veronica finally said to Mac, as the vodka started to hit her stomach. She hadn't eaten since three, and a double was easily enough to soften the room, make her brave. Or stupid.

"He's staring at you. Just ignore him," Mac said.

They walked outside, and she tried. But there he was again, to her right, staring at her. It felt like a challenge, but she didn't know what the challenge was. To speak first? To not speak? Were they playing Chicken or War?

He wasn't alone anymore. He was talking to some girl in a skirt that barely covered her ass and a top that was practically falling off, but he wasn't looking at her. He kept looking over.

"It's almost midnight. We really don't have to stay. We could go back to my room and watch the ball drop on TV if you want," Mac tried again. "Parker's having her thing there. Piz can fend for himself, can't you?"

"I – Well – I could, I guess, if you really need to – or, maybe… "

"No." Veronica shook her head. "I don't want to go." She didn't know what the game was, but she knew leaving was losing. And Logan didn't get to win. She couldn't stop him from hurting her, but he didn't get to win.

A girl came up to him. She was blond and thin, like one of the girls Dick advised him to 'nail' earlier. Her name was Stacey, or something that rhymed with it. She brought him another drink. A gin and tonic with Van Gogh gin, and he knew Dick had sent her over.

He couldn't imagine how much he'd annoyed Dick this past month to get to the point where he was sending over slutty blondes he'd normally be happy to keep to himself. Or maybe there was just a surplus of slutty blonde girls at the party.

She kept talking to him even though he couldn't make much conversation back. His words tasted like gin. She kept standing next to him, even though he wasn't even looking at her. He looked towards her once or twice, but he continued to hold his gaze on Veronica.

Eventually, he just stopped answering, and she walked away.

It was almost midnight when she couldn't stand it anymore. She walked across the room towards him, inhaling as if preparing for a bar fight. In a way she was.

"What is it that you want?"

"What?" He must have seen her coming, but it still caught him off guard.

"You've been staring at me for two hours."

"I haven't," He lied. "Have I?"

"Logan," she said.

"What?"

"Tell me the game. What is it? Let me in on the joke. Please. What is it? What is it that you could possibly want?"

"I'm just standing here."

"Okay. Forget it." She started to walk away.

"Wait," he said.

"Yeah?" She turned around, her eyes flaring. Something loosened in her stomach, as though she somehow felt – hoped – he was going to say something real. Something important.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come."

"Me neither."

She walked away from him, feeling free. If it was Chicken, she'd won. If it was War, she guessed it didn't matter.

Fine. He wants to stare at me. Fine. Let him. Let him stare and mumble and shuffle his feet. Let him do what he wants. And he says I hold back. He says I shut him out? Fine. I'm done.

And she almost believed it. She was walking towards Mac and Piz when it turned midnight. Mac kissed Piz playfully on the cheek, and they both hugged her as she approached.

None of them meant their "Happy New Years" as animated as they said them. Especially not Veronica. But she smiled a smile that looked real enough. It almost felt real. And she liked the song that was playing. She hadn't heard it in years.

And I can do the frug
I can do the Robocop
I can do the Freddie
I cannot do the Smurf

"I like this song," she said, nodding her head towards the dance floor. "I'm gonna dance."

"You are?" Mac asked.

"And so are you," she grabbed Mac's hand and Piz's and pulled them out onto the dance floor, willing there to be some sort of fun at this New Year's Eve party. Willing his eyes away.

And I can hate your girl
I can tell you that she's real pretty
I can take my clothes off
I cannot fall in love

And I can do the frug
I can do the Robocop
I can do the Freddie
I cannot do the Smurf

They danced for another half an hour, and she almost forgot he was watching her.

Mac looked exhausted by one o'clock. "You ready?" She asked Veronica.

She looked back at Logan for the first time in awhile. He was talking with another girl. She couldn't see the girl's face, but he was still looking towards her. She met his gaze, and he looked away. She sighed.

"Let's go." Veronica nodded even though she almost didn't want to leave. For real, this time. That's how she knew it was time to go.

He felt like his stomach slammed against his shoes. He shuffled his feet and turned forty-five degrees, but he didn't stop looking at her. He couldn't breathe.

Of course, she starts with accusations. How else would Veronica Mars start a conversation. Not with what she wants to say. What the hell gives her the right? Fine. She is who she is. She'll never change.

He heard the New Year's cheer as though it happened somewhere else. The music started again. She pulled Mac and Piz onto the dance floor. Smiling now. He had to work to find her in the crowd.

And I can do the frug
I can do the Robocop
I can do the Freddie
I cannot do the Smurf

And I can hate your girl
I can tell you that she's real pretty
I can take my clothes off
I cannot fall in love
You'll never see my eyes
I will not call you back
I cannot do the smurf
I cannot fall in love
I'll never fall in love
I cannot fall in love...

And I can do the frug
I can do the Robocop
I can do the Freddie
I cannot do the Smurf

She was dancing badly. She never could dance. He wanted to be holding her. She looked beautiful.

He held that thought for maybe half an hour, the drink evaporating in his hands. This was too pathetic. He set the empty cup down. Five was enough. Or was it six? He turned to a girl a few feet away, but he couldn't really start a conversation. He was still watching Veronica, but not all-out now. He glanced away and tried to make a conversation.

The girl's friend turned around, and he realized it was Madison Sinclair. At least this would be easy. And he was drunk enough.

"Wow. Small world," she said, smiling at him. She started talking, and it was easy. His responses fit easily into the beats, exactly as they should. No thinking necessary. His eyes still had enough energy to follow Veronica across the room to the dance floor.

She stopped dancing and looked over at him. He felt like his eyelashes were on fire or something. For the first time, he looked away. All the way away. No corners of his eyes, no searching for reflections. Away.

He felt her leave. He didn't have to see it.

"You ready to go?" He asked Madison. He didn't know what he was doing or why.

But she smiled. "Yeah. Where to?"