A/N: So I gave in to all the PMs and went with Logan for this chapter. I also pushed passed my 1000 word limit by kinda a lot. Logan made me do it. =) Next will probably be Dick, Weevil or Keith. Haven't decided yet. As always, thanks for reading!...and reviewing, favoring, or alerting!

She wasn't mad. She wasn't even all that…jealous? No, definitely not jealous. Lonely maybe, but not jealous. Slamming her car door, Veronica slumped against the steering wheel. She swore she could hear it mocking her as sniffles scattered the surrounding air.

J Geils was right. Love stinks. You can dress it up with sequins and shoulder pads but one way or another you're just gonna end up alone at the spring dance strapped into uncomfortable underwear.

-THUD-

Chocking on a sob, Veronica startled at the sudden sound and abrupt shake of the vehicle. Quickly, she wiped away the mascara streaked tears that stained her features and rolled her eyes. She rarely ever wanted to put up with whatever ridiculous 09'er style torment her so called peers concocted, yet she always did. Tonight was a whole other story. There was no way she was going to deal. Not tonight. Damn Meg for not letting her bring a bag large enough for her taser. Two seconds and whoever dared to attack her car would be disposed of and she would be able to drive home and bury her head in a beautiful gallon tub of ice cream.

Turning her sight towards the sound, she shook her head. Someone wearing a white dress shirt was draped against her car. The person's hand continuously dragged itself down the driver side window. Now she wasn't just lonely. She was annoyed.

"I don't know who you are…" Using as much force as she could muster, Veronica violently pushed her door open. "…but I've learned that heels hurt just about everyone. Even those who aren't wearing th-."

Her shiver inducing voice dissipated when the opening of her door caused the blatant intruder to tumble backwards, falling on their back and revealing a well known face. "Logan?" She rushed out of her car, dropping to her knees beside her accidental victim. "God Logan, what are you doing?"

"No! Get a-get a way fr-from…" Logan pulled away from her as he scowled beneath his shades before tipping his head back and falling into a fit of uncontrolled laughter.

Veronica brought a hand to her nose in an attempt to block the waves of stench rolling off his breaths. "You're drunk Logan. You need to get up." Risking the possibility of his weight crushing her tiny frame, she slung his arm around her neck and tried desolately to get him to a standing position. "Come on Logan, you gotta help me here."

Plastering on a sloppy smirk, he leaned awkwardly into her. "What's the magic word?"

"Word? How about phrase." Her voice became strained as she used the car to steady herself and the vodka filled boy with her. "Logan gets his drunk self up and Veronica doesn't run him over with her car."

Logan hiccuped in response, giggling as he stumbled backwards into the vehicle. "You used to be fun." He mumbled incoherently to himself.

Arching a disappointed, but unsurprised, brow, Veronica folded her arms across her chest and took in a judgmental stare at him. A part of her found his display appalling and pathetic, but a more prominent part of her took pity on him. When it came to suffering from a bad day, he had her beat for sure. "Logan." She sighed. "You're drunk."

"Wow!" With a flippant gesture, Logan staggered as he attempted to keep up with the constantly spinning world. "Nothing gets past you Nancy Drew!" His unintended rhyming skills revved up another fit of uncontrollable laughter.

"Come on." She spoke gently as she reached out and placed a friendly hand on his arm. "We should get you home."

"No!" He snapped back before spinning around and around in some sort of drunken dance. "No, no, no, no, no, no, no." The tone and volume of his voice changed with every 'no' making it sound more like a song than anything else.

"Logan." Veronica pleaded as she tried to get a grip on him.

Adopting a serious tone, Logan stopped his spinning and looked directly at her. In the briefest of moments, it was as though the drunken Logan disappeared. "Ronnie please. She's-she…she's go-gone." His dark shades did well to hide the tears that were surely filling his eyes as he struggled to get his words out.

She relented easily, her heart breaking just a little. "Alright, I won't take you home, but we should take you somewhere." She diverted her gaze from his pain ridden expression as she thought about where exactly she could take him. Anyone who would take him in was enjoying themselves at that damn couple-o-rama fest going on in the gym. Hotel maybe? Uh, that sounded bad even before she thought of it.

"Fine." Interrupting her thoughts, Logan burped, a hearty smelly one at that. "But nowhere with bridges. Or lakes. Or mothers."

The corner of her lips pulled downwards in an empathetic frown. She hastily washed away any dejection when she met Logan's eyes through his shades. Pity wouldn't go over well with him. "Okay, but if we're doing this. I have to set some boundaries." She held out a stern finger as Logan muttered a soft 'whatever.' "One, no puking in the car."

"What? Does the value of the rust bucket go down?" He leaned his forehead against the roof of the LeBaron as his hand returned to dragging itself along the windows.

Veronica held a hand up, making her lack of patience apparent. "Two, no more drinking anything that runs on tap unless it's from a kitchen sink. Three…" She smirked as her eyes scanned Logan's choice, or lack of choice, of wardrobe. "…unless you have a pair of pants hidden somewhere, you'll be sitting on a towel while in my car. You got it?"

"Yeah-yeah." Logan wobbled his way around the car, flinging himself into the passenger side seat. "You're so bossy." He held back a gag as he slurred his words.

Veronica sighed, shaking her head before climbing in herself.

No bridges? No lakes? No mothers? Well, there's only one place I can think of that fits within those guidelines and as much as I would prefer not to have a drunk and mourning teenage boy inhabit the same apartment as the previous Balboa county sheriff, it will have to do.

Sometime during the car ride, Logan decided that Veronica's shoulder made for the perfect pillow. She on the other hand didn't appreciate it and shrugged him off. His head swayed from side to side before it returned to the spot he had claimed for himself, ignoring the fact that the shoulder he acquired belonged to her.

"Logan…" She tried to shrug him off again only to have him nuzzle closer.

"Ronnie…please." His broken voiced plea was all that was needed to melt away the uncomfortable feeling that tainted the air and once again she easily relented.

Minutes later, just as she was pulling into a parking space, Veronica felt something tickling her arm. Looking down, she noticed the culprit. A thin stream of drool was trailing from his open mouth. Though justifiably disgusted, Veronica couldn't help, but smile. "Logan." She shook him slightly. "Let's get you inside."

Logan shot up, which of course was the worst thing he could do for the world insisted on spinning more aggressively. "Wha-what?" Noticing the drool, he wiped at his mouth and chin. "Oh, yeah. Okay."

With only a handful of stumbles and progressively heightening aches from supporting most of his weight, Veronica managed to get Logan from the car into her apartment.

"Veronica?" Logan's eyes met hers as she fumbled with kicking the door closed while holding on to him. "Thanks." Releasing himself from her grasp, he fell against the kitchen counter as his eyes firmly held onto her gaze. "You know," he shrugged "for not leaving me and…stuff."

In a toothless, yet heartfelt smile, Veronica simply nodded. Swallowing hard, she pushed back the emotions that were stirring within her. In the dim lit apartment and through the haze of alcohol surrounding him, Veronica saw a glimmer of the old Logan she once knew. "You want me to, uh…" Her expression twisted unpleasantly. "I don't know. Get you something to eat? Aspirin maybe?"

He didn't say anything. He just reached out and squeezed her upper arm lightly before trudging his way down the hall towards the bathroom.

Veronica released a deep breath as she watched him go in all his 'Risky Business' glory. "I cannot escape Tom Cruise." She shook her head and sighed. Thinking about how odd her night ended, even considering how odd her entire day had been, she headed towards her room. A hot shower and wardrobe change was definitely a must.

It was a little after midnight when Keith finally made his way home. Carelessly tossing his keys and briefcase on the kitchen counter, he dragged himself towards the bed that had been calling out to him for the past few hours.

Upon opening his bedroom door and flicking the light on, his brows pulled together and his body jolted backwards in a response to shock. Scratching the top of his balding head, Keith approached the sleeping form that took over his bed. "Logan?" When he realized who it was, answers were still no where to be found. "Logan?" He took to nudging the passed out boy to no avail.

Releasing an exasperated sigh, Keith stomped his way to his daughter's room.

-knock-knock-knock-

"Honey?" Keith spoke through the door as he heard the shuffling noises of Veronica climbing out of bed. "Why is there a pants-less teen in my bed?" His eyes were wide as he propped one hand against the door frame and let the other rest at his hip.

"Hi Dad." Veronica's voice was shaky as she opened her door.

Keith wiggled his finger at her and held his arm out, gesturing towards his bedroom. "Explain please."

Peeking into his room, Veronica snickered at the sight of Logan sprawled across her father's bed. "I don't know Dad. I think Logan may be trying to tell you something." She paused, smirking. "You didn't send him any unintentional signals did you? Cause I don't really think that's legal."

"Veronica…" He growled.

"Let him down easy, Pa." She patted him on the back and headed back to her own room. Stopping in her door frame she turned back to her distraught father. "Logan's been having a crappy week and needed a place to crash." Her eyes fluttered with sympathy. "I swear he'll be out by morning."

Narrowing his eyes, he nodded. "Fine, but when I wake up with a crick in my neck, I'm blaming you."

"I think I'll live." She smiled

"Yeah-yeah. Go to bed…you brat." He shook his head and threw his hands up as he headed for the couch. "I cannot escape Tom Cruise."