A/N: I know, I know, I know, I'm sorry. I've got half of c3: 90909 and c1: SHB, as well as 5 other one-shots (an AU off 1.04/The Wrath of Con, a post-series still-in-College pregnancy fic, an AU off 1.07/The Girl Next Door, a what if Lilly Kane had been pregnant fic and a tumblr prompt College AU) and a draft for another part of Something's Gotta Give. All of which is coming soon I swear (no really).
The Runaways
It's at night when Logan's calmest, maybe it's the inherent absence of light to expose his troubles, deepest desires and darkest secrets, maybe it's the warm buzz his mother's good booze provides him — allowing him to sink further into the pillow, sand or leather backseat. Three of the most frequent places you'd find Logan Echolls resting his head.
Nightfall however has it's downsides too. It means thinking (which means booze), pondering too. It means his pretentious thoughts of life and death, the waxed poetic you'll sometimes find scribbled in the margins of his school issued notebooks. It means ghosts. Ghosts of lives past, girlfriends past, best friends past. Still though, he's calm. There's no one to pretend for, make an example of. He can cry if he could bring himself to, he can think without having to worry about pesky, blonde, mind-reading, betrayer's of trust and sacred friendships.
Somewhat ironically, his thoughts are often filled with pesky blondes. One vivacious, another cutting and brutal. Both drop dead sexy (much to his chagrin), one witty and biting, another taunting — both mischievous. People used to wonder what it was that drew Lilly Kane, a goddess amongst mere mortals in so many eyes, to Veronica Mars. He was one of them, for a little while anyway but occasionally there were brief slips, a glimpse behind the shiny, virginal veneer of the bubblegum-pink girl Veronica Mars used to be that let him see the real her, the her that became this Veronica 2.0. On these calming nights he often thinks of her.
"We could do it y'know."
"What?"
"Run away."
Logan laughed a rambunctious laugh, the thought of Veronica Mars in all her rule abiding glory running away was enough to make anyone that knew her double over in a fit of hysterics.
She pouted slightly and murmured. "I damn-well could."
He knew she wouldn't be satisfied until he believed her or at least heard her out so he collected himself (poorly) and turned to face her. One hand raise above his eyes to block out the sun burning bright behind her, a vision at 14 in her green mud spattered soccer uniform, discarded cleats and mussed braids.
"Continue." he offered and her smile was brighter than the sun he was shielding. He smirked (an Echolls trademark) in response.
"First," her shifting on the bleachers made an ugly noise. "We drain one of your dad's unlimited black Amex cards, we can't take too much, it'll draw unwanted attention. Just enough to get us by until we can find other methods of income." Her attention shifted back to Logan to make sure he was listening, and he was — intently. Beginning to see a side of Veronica he'd seldom seen before.
"Daddy's platinum card - check."
"Next we take a bus out of town, when we get to the depot, disguised, we buy three tickets each in different directions. Get on the first one heading east, get off halfway through the trip and switch busses. Give the fuzz the slip." Her eyes twinkled in a way he'd only seen once before, the third time they hung out at the Kane estate when she scared the hell out of Lilly, Donut and himself with sticks and stones tapping the windows during their scary-Halloween-filmathon. It was mischievous, devious, nefarious. He didn't know if it was Lilly Kane finally corrupting the innocent Sheriff's daughter or what and he couldn't help but hope to see more. He loves his Veronica, undoubtedly — she's one of his best friends but this side of her is mysterious, a little sugar and a lot of spice. The girl he saw tearing down the soccer field when he was 12, a tanned California goddess.
"Next we buy a car"
"We can't drive" Veronica ignores him and continues.
"$1000 max limit. Something that'll blend, an old Saturn or a Le'Baron."
"Mars out of Neptune, driving a Saturn." Logan chuckled.
"Ha. Ha. Hilarious." Veronica playfully glared, rolling her eyes. Planetary based comedy, Ronnie had always hated it.
"Ok, ok." Logan raised his hands in mock surrender. "No need to go all God-of-War on me Mars." Another eyeroll. "So what next?"
"We find a town, not too big, not too small. We've got to blend, find jobs, find an apartment or house where people won't be talking about the new kids on the block — literally."
Logan nodded along at the appropriate times, astounded by the functionality of the plan. In hindsight though he realised that he probably shouldn't've been. She's Veronica Mars, just about perfect grade point average, do-good, good at everything, Veronica Mars. Even still it's a little discombobulating to have her rattling off the perfect escape plan while searching for zigzag patterned Keds in her athletic bag.
"Okay so you're the brains of this operation and I'm the beauty." Logan pronounced proudly, standing up and offering a hand to assist Veronica as she follows.
In response she laughs, none of that airy, mystical crap they write about in books and imitate in movies. It was a hearty laugh, he's pretty sure she even snorted once. "No you're the money bags, Lilly's the beauty."
"And Duncan is?"
"The donut."
They both laugh at that. Veronica takes his hand, hikes her one strap bag up on her shoulders and they walk off into the proverbial sunset.
Nightfall is memories and plans he wishes would've come to fruition. Nightfall is pain and tears, heartbreak and betrayal but it's also better days and if it's all that's left, all that can be salvaged he'll take it with a smile on his face.
