a/n- a bit of a short one, but one of my favorite scenes so far. Hope you like it!
As always, thanks for the reviews, especially from SPK who's enthusiasm is contagious! Love hearing from all of you, keep it up!
Sleepless
Veronica wakes sometime in the middle of the night to an incessant knocking at her apartment door. She moans, throwing aside the covers, and mutters to the heap of dozing fur at the foot of her bed, "Back-up, I'm seriously thinking about getting a cat." The dog picks his head up and looks at her with sleep-heavy eyes before dropping his head back down on his paws.
Dragging herself to the living room, she cringes when she hears an all-too-unwelcome voice calling her name in loud, obnoxious bursts. Does no one in this town sleep any more? "You better have a fleet of ponies waiting for me, Dick. What do you want?" She says angrily, throwing open the door with a heart-stopping glare.
He flushes and slurs out, "Geez, Ronnie, why you gotta be like that?"
The smell of tequila and beer assaults her and she tries not to wretch. "God. How drunk are you, Dick?" She doesn't wait for him to answer, and chooses to keep firing. "Did you forget where you parked your car again? Cause I gotta tell you, I charge by the minute and I don't go on supply runs."
Looking briefly confused, he shifts on his feet and stares at the door frame. "Um, I drove here Ronnie, so I'm pretty sure my car is, like, out there." He cocks his head back toward the parking lot and chuckles lightly to himself. "And I've already got a supply of beer in the truck. You want some?"
"Jesus, Dick. You drove here?" She says with strained indignation, rubbing her burgeoning headache. "What the hell were you thinking?"
He chuckles taper off, as he senses her increasingly agitated mood, "Geez, chillax Ron. I'm not drunk. I mean, I stopped drinking when Logan got busted at our beach party, and I'm still kinda buzzed, but-." The slight slur at the end of every word tells her he is far more wasted than he is admitting.
"Wait, Logan got arrested? What happened?" She snaps at him, feeling fully awake now.
"Well," He crosses his arms like he's about to launch into a long-winded story, and she ups the intensity of her glare. Instantly, he drops his arms and looks down at her pajama bottoms. "So, like, I was throwing this sweet little bash on the beach, you know," he shifts his feet again nervously and fiddles with the hem of his shirt. She rolls her eyes angrily. Oh, she knew just what kind of party Dick was having. Once upon a time, she had gone to quite a few of those parties. Her glare goes to 11 and he briefly catches her eye again before turning his hulking body completely away. In any other circumstance, she would find it extremely comical that he was so scared of her he couldn't even face her. "Anyway," he continues to the wall behind her, "I was just trying to get Logan to loosen up and have a little fun. He's been pretty down lately, what with, you know, everything."
Gritting her teeth, Veronica quips, "Oh, I don't know, Dick. Seems like he's been having a great time, what with getting beaten up, arrested, and finding out about Lilly and his dad. I mean, what kid wouldn't love that? And all the media attention, too? Icing on the cake."
Dick nods, like he completely agrees, and Veronica pinches her nose painfully, thinking, oh my god, he really can't be that dense, can he? Then again, it is Dick. There is only one part of his body he uses, and it is definitely not his brain.
Continuing his conversation with her wall, he says, "Like I said, he's been bummed. So we were down at the beach, minding our own business, when that tool, Lamb, shows up." He actually turns to stare at her now with his most puppy-like expression. One that she wasn't even aware he possessed until now. It's like a three-year-old who just discovered a broken vase his dog knocked over and is worried he's going to get punished for it. She sighs, and rolls her hand slightly trying to get him to continue. Eventually, he does. "Lamb just comes up and smiles like he knows something, and tells Logan he's under arrest for Felix's murder."
"What!" Veronica exclaims, causing him to stumble back into the door frame. "That's not possible. He was cleared."
Dick shakes his head. "Not according to that poser. Said there was new evidence. And a witness."
"Shit." Veronica mutters, wheels turning furiously in her brain. "Shit!" Louder this time, with a little foot stomp thrown in for good measure.
Dick reels back from her and struggles to remain standing as both her anger and another wave of his alcohol-induced stupor hits him. He's unsure whether he should stay and help with Logan or whether he should just pass out on the balcony and not worry about any of this anymore. Option two is looking better and better the more pissed Ronnie gets. Placing a hand out in front of him to steady himself, he slides down the door way to the floor. Somewhere distantly, he hears his own voice saying, "It's cool, Ronnie. I'll just wait here. You go take care of Logan. That's what you do, right?"
Even farther away, he hears her reply. "Shit! Seriously Dick? Wake up! I am not dealing with you, too. Come on!" He feels his body being moved at a slight pressure on his hips, but he's losing the ability to remain conscious. She's pushing at him, struggling to get him to move out of the door. Unable to push him far enough, she gives up and begins rolling him into her apartment, muttering angrily, "Grrr. Fine. Get in here. The last thing I need is for the neighbors to see your drunk ass parked outside my door all night. Seriously, how much did you guys drink?" He rolls ungracefully into the foyer and comes to a stop with his cheeks pressed against the bare floor. Before he completely looses consciousness, he thinks that whatever it is on his skin feels cool and amazing.
She huffs, breathing hard with the effort to move his large body and shuts the door. Briefly, she considers trying to force him to move to the couch, but then just shakes her head. Why bother, the floor is a good place for dirt, she thinks. Back-up comes loping from her room and is immediately curious about the half-conscious boy sprawled out on the wooden foyer, face down. He sniffs around the body before perching himself up on top of his slowly breathing form, nesting into his back and dragging his paws out in long stretches. Dick groans and says something resembling "Yeah, babe, that feels nice," in slurry drunk-speak. Veronica throws up her hands in defeat and goes in search of her phone. And some coffee. Lots of coffee. As she steps around Dicks spread legs, she smiles remembering that when Back-up sleeps, he drools. A lot.
Later, with coffee brewing and phone in hand, she scrolls through her contacts until she finds the name she was looking for.
"Hello?" A soothing, sleepy baritone voice answers.
"Cliffy, dahling," Veronica replies sweetly. "I'm glad you're awake."
"I'm not, Veronica." He answers curtly. "So... goodnight."
"Oh come on. The Seventh Veil doesn't close for another hour. Besides, I've got something you might be interested in."
"Unless this 'something' has red hair, enormous breasts, and a tongue like a tiger, I'm not."
"Cliffy," she throws the pout and the head tilt into her words, knowing he can't see them, but he can certainly hear them all the same. "Come on. I need a favor."
He sighs, groans, and shuffles the phone around. "What? And it really better be good. You still owe me from the last favor I did you."
In the background, she can her the squeak of his bedframe and the soft rustle of fabrics. She smiles to herself, knowing she's already roped him in. "Oh, you'll love it, I promise. I need you to get Logan out of jail."
He laughs, deeply and for a long time. "Again. Really, V? Is he trying to get some sort of perfect attendance award or something? Maybe a Ripley's nod?"
She chuckles right along with him, because really, what else can she do. "I think he might just like the decor. Or maybe it's the food. I hear they've started doing a wine and cheese tasting after 4 p.m."
His laughter comes to a slow halt, and he sighs. "Tell me what happened."
Veronica shifts the phone to the other ear, and eyes the still sleeping outline of Dick on the floor. "Lamb took him in for Felix's murder. Said there was a witness now. Maybe new evidence."
Cliff sighs again, louder. "V, you know I trust your judgment. Usually. But are you sure about all this? I mean, if there's a witness now, it's not looking good for his case. He might even have a hard time with the self defense angle."
A shot of steel goes through Veronica's body. "Yes, I'm certain. I know he's innocent. Logan might be a lot of things, Cliff, god knows I know that better than most. But he's not a killer."
She can hear Cliff breathing, taking in what she's said. "Yeah. I know." He admits quietly. Veronica wonders at that. She knows Cliff has only spoken to Logan a handful of times, mostly just some questions about his emancipation paperwork, but she never thought Cliff had any particular opinion about him one way or another. Her mouth twitches in a smile. It must the 'Logan effect'. When people meet him, they either seem to instantly love him or instantly hate him. There were just no in-betweens.
"Look, Veronica," his voice is low and reassuring, "get some sleep." He stops her protest, adding, "I know, I know. But he'll be alright for a few hours. Besides, you've had a rough week, and you know your dad would kill you if you don't take care of yourself. Speaking of which... how's he doing?"
Veronica is very glad Cliff can't see her expression right now. With all the craziness that had been happening with Logan, she had really slacked off on her daughterly duties. Maybe Cliff was right about waiting until morning. "Good. He has to stay two more days until he's can be discharged." For the millionth time, she notices how quiet the apartment is without him around. "Did you know he's in talks with a publisher to write a book about this whole thing?"
"Really? Didn't know your old man had any talent in that department. Though, with his wry sense of humor and his grim outlook on life, he'd probably do better with his own reality show."
"Well, you wouldn't be wrong there." She chuckles. "But I don't think the lighting guys would appreciate all the work they would have to do stop the glare from bouncing off his head."
Cliff barks out a laugh. "Okay, V, I'm going back to bed. And I suggested you do the same. I'll meet you at the Sheriff's Department at 9 a.m. In the meantime, get some rest."
She nods, even though he can't see her. "Fine. Just need to sweep up some trash." She glances at the lump of blond hair and fur by the door warily.
"What?"
"Nevermind, Cliff. See you at 9." She disconnects and stares at Dick's immobile body, debating whether it's worth the effort to wake him up and force him out or not. Back-up snores peacefully from his perch, riding the slow steady up and down of Dick's chest like a boat on a wave. Her inner gooey-center wins out.
She shakes her head, sighing to herself, before flipping open her phone and snapping a picture of Dick. With a small, smug smile, she heads off to bed. Ah, blackmail. Besides, what could be better revenge for a drunk showing up in the middle of the night than waking him bright and early to kick him out? Preferably with an air horn. Or ice water. Or her taser. Maybe some sort of combination of the three.
Happily distracted, Veronica drifts off.