AN: I still feel blah. Stupid sickness. Blech. But yay: I got an iPod, I'm about to get a Chocolate phone (for fifty bucks, no less, and legally, for those wondering), and I got Seasons One and Two of VM on DVD! But I had to take the SATs – not yay. But then my band won first place in competition – yay!
Ok. My new song that describes LoVe is "Running Away" by Christy Carlson Romano. Because that's all Veronica does! Damn it V – stick around for like ten seconds, would ya? Grrrrr. But that's all my annoyance. Anyway ... Oh, and now the song "Toxic" by Brittany Spears is totally stuck in my head. Yes, I know. Brittany Spears. Blame it on MySpace. I was a good child before I went on it.
Here we go, anon:
Sara – Um, thanks, I guess. Hee. Dick is always amusing. You are digging for info, are you? S's seem to abound with my anons. Interesting (strokes chin). Weevil? Maybe. I don't know just now. I'm sorry about the delay. I will do my very, very best to better next time.
I'm ultra tired. Must I write? Yes, I know I must. Otherwise I will be murdered by multiple LoVe shippers. Oy. Here I go.
Disclaimers: All I own is a new iPod (finally!) that I can't even work well enough to put my newly acquired epis of VM on it. Damn my lack of technology ability! (pouts)
Veronica : Barenaked
You know, it had started out as a nice day.
We had seen a thousand sights. The boys had played nice with each other. I had only complained about the rich and powerful making millions while the beggars lived on the street once. Minus the Mac thing, because what the HELL was she thinking, we'd been doing well.
But then we had gotten to the hotel. We were supposed to get ready for dinner. This, in Logan's book, was code for "Veronica and Logan have sex before dinner." He turned out to be right, of course. Still. And then he'd gone to take a shower, an event I decided should be solo, or we'd never leave. And I'd turned on the TV. Big mistake.
Aaron's face was plastered on the screen, with that fake smile that made me want to take out my taser every time I saw it. They were saying when his funeral would be – two weeks from today. And I wanted to kick the TV the second I realized that Logan was behind me. Because I'd forgotten he had a talent for that.
I looked at him. Anger, a lot of anger, was struggling on his face with pain. I wasn't sure what kind of pain it was. All I know was that was there was pain. Pain that was ripping at my heart. Which is the only thing I could think of that made me say what I said next.
"You should go to his funeral."
Anger won over in about ten seconds.
It was twenty minutes later, and we were standing at opposite ends of the room, screaming at each other.
"Did something hit your head, Ronnie? Is that wanna-be rocker shirt squeezing you a little too tight? Has the bleach in your hair seeped to your brain?" Logan was holding onto a wall in an apparent attempt to keep from breaking the hotel's lamp.
I let out a frustrated shriek from between my teeth. "Yeah, the possibility of me wanting to do what's right for you could never cross your mind."
"Aaron's funeral is what's right for me?" Logan actually looked amazed. "How the hell is that right for me? I would have killed him myself if I had a glock and few shots!"
I ignored the last part, knowing well enough from the Cassidy incident, if nothing else, that Logan was no killer, and glared. "Closure. I don't care what you do. Pee on his grave, destroy the headstone, show up drunk and ranting, I don't care. Just do it."
Logan hit the wall slightly. "Closure? You are seriously ordering me to go to Daddy Dearest's funeral for closure?"
I put my hands on my hips. "I'm going." I paused long enough to see Logan's shock. My face hardened. "I'm going to spit on his grave. I'm going to tell him that I hate him. I'm going to tell him that I don't care who killed him, but if I found them, I'd thank them. I'm going to tell him that we're together, and we're ok, and he didn't break us." I was shaking with fury that I hadn't let myself feel in a while. I clutched my hands in fists to try to still myself and pressed my lips together until I could practically feel the white line they formed.
Logan's eyes narrowed. "That's touching. It's wonderfully after-school-special of you. But I don't give a damn about him anymore."
I scoffed loudly and put my hands on my hips. "Really?"
"Not everyone needs the years of therapy and the use of their detective kits," he informed me, folding his arms defiantly.
"So you're over everything he did to you? To me? To Lilly?" I asked incredulously. "You don't have any problems, little orphan Annie?"
His body tensed, but he still managed a short nod. "Not with him. There are pint-sized blondes I could mention that I do have some problems with. Not that they seem to care."
I blame the pain. The pain I still saw flitting over his face, that made me want to push him to fix it. That's why I said possibly the stupidest thing I've ever said to anyone just then. "So you're over what he did to your mom."
Logan's eyes went blank. He chuckled humorlessly. "You don't hold back the punches do you, huh, Ronnie?"
My mouth opened and closed as I tried to come up with something to say. I couldn't back down, because that's not what I do. But I couldn't believe what I had said. I thought I was smart. "I'm trying to help you."
Again, that eerie laugh. "Why? You've never helped me before." He looked down at the floor.
Ok. Ouch. "Logan, I ..."
His head snapped up. "You what? You do nothing. You run away. And suddenly you want to be my knight in shining armor? Thanks. I don't need it. I don't need you."
"Like hell," I said breathily. Mainly because the thought that he might walk away had taken away all my air.
"Hey, guys! We ever going?" Wallace's voice broke through the obvious tension in the room. Logan's eyes were burning through me in that particular Logan way that made me doubt myself – and I don't doubt myself.
"Hold on, Wally!" Logan called, almost casually. He walked up to me slowly. His breath was hot against my face, and I couldn't feel anything else. Just his breath, and this anticipation of what he was going to do, something that was sure to cause total devastation to all involved. I really couldn't do anything at the moment even if I wanted to. He took a minute before speaking. "Tonight, you don't get to run. I am. I don't know if I'm coming back. You can be the person waiting and hurting." He started towards the door, then turned back slowly. He gestured towards the liquor cabinet by the door. "The alcohol is over there. If we're going to do role reversal, we'd better do it right." Then he was gone.
I slid down the wall shakily. Wonderful. We'd been together for about two minutes and I'd managed to start a fight. You're just plain brilliant, Veronica Mars. Lovable to boot.
This wasn't how things were supposed to be in a relationship. I'd had normal relationships at some point, hadn't I? Ok, no. But I'd seen normal relationships. And this wasn't how they worked. There were ups and downs, yes. But there were also nights with popcorn and movies, and just talking. Not just banter and sex. And couples were supposed to be able to talk. We used to talk. But since that first time, when he asked me to trust him and I ran, we just ... couldn't. Anything close to real talking dissolved into accusations and arguing. These past couple of weeks, we hadn't done any talking whatsoever. We'd ignored everything, like it'd go away. Maybe I thought it would.
Did I really want this? Was it worth it? No one else made me like this. With Duncan, Troy, and Leo, I'd never done the stupid things Logan made me do. I didn't fight with them all the time. I didn't feel this thrill mixed with dread. I didn't run like they were on fire. I ran into the fray headfirst, taser firmly in hand. Why did Logan make me feel like ... like I had no idea what I was doing?
I couldn't believe I was sitting in a hotel room on my supposed vacation thinking about that ass, and wishing he would come back. I wasn't sure whether I wanted to scream at him, screw him, or apologize. God, this was a messed up ... whatever.
I rubbed my head and stared at the door. Come back, Logan. Come back, Logan. Damn it, come back or I'll kick your ass. Nothing. Not that I'd actually expected it to work. Well, not really.
The really sad thing was, it didn't matter if this made sense or not. I was still sitting here. Waiting for him. Just like he'd told me to. I felt guilty and angry and a little desperate. But I knew that I wasn't going anywhere. We'd broken up twice to date, and it didn't matter. I was still there, wanting him. And now I loved him. So it didn't matter if it made no sense, and that I shouldn't be here. It didn't matter if we'd break up and get back together until one of us just plain broke. It didn't matter that there was a ninety-five percent chance that we'd never last. I was going to sit in our hotel bed until he came back. And maybe watch a little TV.
It was an hour later, and I was watching some Chris Rock movie, when someone knocked on the door. I jumped up, then jerkily smoothed my clothes and fixed my hair before walking to the door. I took a deep breath before jerking on the handle. "Logan I'm sorry that I ... DUNCAN?"
There was Duncan Kane, standing in front of my hotel door.
He smiled at me shyly. "Hi, Veronica."
I noticed the sling covering his chest and crossing to his back. He'd brought the baby. Huh. I blinked a little. "Um, hi."
We stood looking at each other for a moment. Then my brain caught up to me. DUNCAN KANE WAS IN MY DOORWAY. I gasped in a breath. "Duncan, what the hell?"
His grin grew. "I'll tell you if you let me in." He raised his eyebrows as I continued to stand in his way.
I shook my head slightly. Logan leaving, Duncan appearing – it was just too much for me to process. "Oh, yeah. Of course." I stepped to the side a little. Breath, Veronica. In. Out. In. Out. Ok.
I closed the door slowly, then turned around at the same speed. "Duncan, what are you doing ...?"
My question was left hanging in the air as lips crashed down on mine and cut me off.
This could be a problem.
AN: Oh, I bet you hate me. Oh, well (dodges flying objects).
A lot of people asked me for longer and more dramatic updates. I think this has covered both.
Now, two important bits of info: First, this is now, obviously and officially, an AU story, what with the start of the new season and all. Second, I have had problems with people reviewing, so I'm implementing a policy that I've used in the past: If I get a review/hit ratio of 1 to 200, I will run someone over with a bus like in Mean Girls, only they won't jump back up magically twenty pounds lighter. They will die. And not like Sachs or Back-up or something, but Veronica or Logan or Mac, or somebody like that. It is the least glorious death I can think of to make sure that no one will think "Well, at least it was well written." It won't be. I promise. I'm sorry to have to do this, but I feel it will turn you all into better reviewers, which will not only benefit me (because I'm quite truthful about the fact that it will benefit me), but also every fanfic writer. Once you get in the habit of reviewing, you do it a lot more. As far as having this on two sites, I will add up the hits and reviews on both sites and take the average. So encourage each other to review lots and lots!
Remember, if you want spoilers for this story, go read my blog on my MySpace page. I'll try to update both it and this story more often. Blame colds and the SATs for the long delay.
Ok, I think that's it. Love? Hate? REVIEW!
