"Is that what you're wearing?"
Veronica looked into the mirror and saw Logan watching her from the doorway of the bedroom. He was leaning on the doorframe, a smile on his face. She smiled back.
"You betcha." She said, buttoning up the rest of her shirt.
"We have to be there soon."
It had been six months since Veronica had watched the medics slide the gurney with Logan strapped to it into the back of their rig. Most of that night was a blur, more sensation and feeling than actual memories. She did remember watching Logan lose consciousness and sometimes the fear that had made her throat close and made it hard to breathe would creep back into her dreams, converting them into nightmares that left her screaming into nothingness. She remembered searching his jacket frantically until she found his cell phone so she could call 911. Then there were people everywhere and the eerie red flashing on the emergency vehicles, and they were crowded around Logan, and someone asked if she was okay and Veronica just stared across the room.
Please save him.
They took him to the local hospital and then airlifted him to the regional trauma center. Veronica had been checked out in the emergency department and cleared with just a few scratches. She listened numbly as the surgeon explained that Logan had been shot in the shoulder and showed signs of bruising around his ribs that made them think James had managed kick Logan a few times too. One of his ribs had broke and had punctured his lung. He needed help breathing during the surgery. It too every ounce of energy Veronica had left not to scream at the surgeon.
Just save him.
Then it was a long night waiting next to an empty bed until Logan was out of surgery.
At some point during the night Wallace had shown up. He pulled her up out of the chair and into his arms, holding her, and the tears that had been held back all night had flowed as Veronica sobbed into Wallace's shoulder over and over that Logan had to be okay. Wallace didn't say anything, just held her tighter and stroked her hair.
Sometime just before the sun crept over the hills they wheeled him into the room and Veronica had been asked to wait in the hall as a team of nurses transferred him to the bed. Wallace went to grab some coffee as she stood outside the room listening to words such as "pneumothorax" and "chest tube" and "intubated".
Veronica took him home a week later with strict instructions about activity levels from his nurse. She helped him up the stairs and into her apartment, despite his protests that his place was larger with fewer stairs. Veronica suggested he stop arguing since she had control of his pain meds. What she didn't say was she needed to be home and she needed him there with her and she wasn't going to discuss it further.
Veronica tucked Logan in her bed, grateful that Mac had recovered from her concussion enough to break into her place and put on freshly washed sheets and leave a small vase flowers on the nightstand, along with a get-well card. Mac had laughed across the phone lines when Veronica said she knew that Mac didn't like Logan.
"Bygones," Mac said warmly, "after all, he saved your life."
Logan was tired and fell asleep soon after lying down. Veronica didn't sleep. She just sat next to him on the bed, or in the chair in the corner, watching him sleep, making sure his chest was rising up and down, tracing the shape of his face with her fingertips, memorizing what she'd come so close to losing. The clock ticked away the hours until she found herself lying next to him, her eyes drifting shut as she slipped into a dreamless sleep.
They fell into some sort of routine, Veronica getting up in the morning, making a pot of coffee strong enough to grow hair on her chest then returning to bed to sit and sip at her mug while she watched him sleep. After a while she'd get up, shower, then nuzzle him awake before she left for work.
Logan had called his housekeeper and had her pick up his stuff from his house. She'd gone through her clothes and gave away enough that there was room in her dresser for some of his shirts and pants. He'd sit in bed, or on the couch, his laptop balanced across his legs, working on his latest project. Veronica would come home with a bag full of takeout and they'd eat dinner, her telling him about her latest case, him joking that daytime television was highly educational and he now knew what the definition of hoochie-mama was.
Then they would go to bed, Veronica laying her head flat on his chest, feeling him breathe, content. Who would have imagined the day that Veronica Mars would be allowed to be happy and content.
Most nights they would fall asleep like that and when Veronica woke in a sweat, screaming, her heart racing, James face looming in her dreams, Logan would wrap her in his arms, murmur in her ear that she was all right, he was all right, they were lying in their bed, and everything was okay. Veronica would feel her heart slow down and she would relax and she'd slowly fall back asleep, her head tucked into his chest, his around her back.
One night they were lying in bed, Veronica's fingers tracing over where the stitches on his shoulder where James had shot him. It was bright pink and she could feel the ridge the stitches had left.
"We match." Veronica muttered. Logan lifted his head to look at her.
"What?" he asked sleepily.
Veronica looked up at him and smiled. She touched his scar again then reached up to her shoulder and touched her own.
"We match."
She felt his chest shake as he laughed a little. Then he was quiet. Veronica put her head back on his chest.
"We're a set." He said after a while.
They were a set. Their pain fit each other like pieces of a puzzle. That was why from the moment he'd grabbed her on the balcony of the Camelot it had made sense. That was why she'd spent so much time running away; he had the power to hurt her like no one else.
Veronica felt tears start to sting at the edges of her eyes.
"Hey V." Logan said softly, hesitantly.
"Mmmmm." She mumbled, afraid if she said too much the tears really would come.
"Let's make it official."
Veronica felt her heart skip a beat. She lifter her head and looked up at him again, searching his face.
"My lawyer stopped by today. Cherie signed the papers."
"Logan." Her voice was quiet, cautionary. She wasn't sure she wanted to have this conversation.
"I'm not going anywhere, V. Not now, not ever."
"Logan…."
"…and I love you…there's no reason not to…."
"Please."
"Marry me, Veronica Mars."
She told him she needed to think about it. He said she could have as much time as she needed. Then they lay there, his hand stroking her hair, her face tucked into the crook of his neck. It had taken her forever to fall asleep.
The next morning they were sitting at the table in her tiny kitchen, not saying anything, Logan's question hanging between them in the silence.
"I won't take your name." Veronica finally said into the stillness. "Veronica Echolls sounds terrible and I hate hyphenated names. And I have the business to worry about."
Logan's face broke into a smile. Whatever you want he laughed as he bit into his bagel. Veronica told him to wipe that fucking grin off his face, she hadn't agreed to anything yet.
"I won't move out of my apartment. You'd have to move in here." she said after lunch when they were sitting on the couch, Logan working on his laptop, Veronica trying to finish her latest book, their legs tangled together.
"Veronica!" Logan said, looking up from the screen. "You want to stay in this shoebox? I've taken over the dining room table already and you barely have room in your dresser for my clothes…."
"For now." She said, smiling. She liked having him close and she didn't want to give up her apartment for his huge house in the hills.
Logan picked up a piece of paper, crumpled it and threw it at her.
They decided to go to the park before dinner, walking hand in hand down a wooded path, not too fast because Logan was still recovering from the surgery. Veronica glanced over at his profile and she was overwhelmed with emotion. It was at that moment that she knew it was right.
"Okay." She said, squeezing his hand a little.
Logan stopped and looked at her, raising his eyebrows.
"Okay?" he asked. "Okay what? Okay, Italian sounds good for dinner? Okay, Logan, you're the hottest guy on the face of the planet?"
"No." Veronica murmured as Logan moved closer. She could smell the soap he'd used that morning.
"Okay what, Veronica?"
She leaned her head forehead until it rested on his chest. She didn't know why she couldn't find the words. She felt his hand on her back as he pulled her closer.
"Okay, what?" he whispered in her ear.
"Okay." She started, and then paused and closed her eyes. "I'll marry you."
She felt his fingers stroke along her jaw line, then they tipped her chin up to him and he bent down, crushing his mouth to hers. Electricity shot through Veronica. Logan's hands pushed under her t-shirt and up to her breast, caressing her nipple through the thin fabric of her bra, making Veronica gasp. Her brain was muddled, thick with wanting him and somewhere on the edges she heard voices, children, and she remembered they were in a public park.
"Fuck." She whispered against Logan's lips. "People."
"Uh-huh." He laughed, pulling away. He looked at her the muttered something unintelligible and captured her mouth again, taking her breathe away. Veronica felt herself being walked backwards off the path, away form the people, as she wrapped her arms around his neck.
"Here?" she whispered as their mouths broke contact.
"Hell, yes." He growled, his hands going to the button on her jeans. They were in a stand of trees, sheltered from the main path. Veronica laughed.
"Are you sure you're up for this?" she gasped as his mouth left kisses down her neck. "The surgery…"
"Hell, yes." He said again.
It was fast and dirty, Veronica kicking off her pants just before Logan lowered her to the ground. She spread her legs in her best fuck-me pose as he fumbled with the zipper on his jeans. Finally he was free, sliding between her thighs, into her, invading her mouth with his tongue and Veronica gasped. It hadn't taken long for both of them to come; after all, there was something inherently hot about outdoor sex. Then they stood up, brushed off the grass and dirt, and walked back to the car in silence.
It was the first time they'd fucked since coming home from the hospital.
He bought her a ring the next day. It was a plain platinum band inlaid with turquoise.
"The house sold."
Veronica glanced up in the mirror again. He was still leaning against the doorframe.
"Good." Veronica said, trying hard to keep her face straight. "Hey nosey, isn't there something bad about seeing the bride on her wedding day?"
Logan laughed.
"It's not like you're the typical bride. And it's not like typical rules apply to you."
Veronica smiled and turned back to the mirror. No, she wasn't the typical bride. She came complete with scars and emotional hang-ups, a package deal. There was a knock on the door and Veronica turned and gave Logan a look that made him know it was time for him to answer the door and leave her alone. She heard her dad's voice in the living room as Logan greeted the Mars family, heard Keith tell Logan he'd have to call him dad from today on. Was anyone allowed to be this happy, Veronica wondered as she fastened a plain black choker around her neck.
"You're wearing that?" Keith asked when Veronica walked into the living room.
"What?" she asked, exasperated, wondering what was wrong with black slacks and a button-up shirt?
"I think he's missing you covered in chiffon and tulle." Alicia said. Veronica raised an eyebrow. Everyone knew she wasn't a tulle girl.
"Ronnie!"
"Sophie!"
Veronica knelt down just in time to scoop her now nine-year-old half sister in her arms. She was rewarded with a wet smack on the cheek.
"How's my favorite sis?" Veronica asked, nuzzling Sophie's nose.
"I brought flowers." Sophie said.
Alicia stepped forward and handed a bouquet to Logan.
"She picked them from the yard this morning, said that brides are supposed to have flowers." Alicia shrugged then smiled. "Who was I to stop her?"
Veronica handed Sophie to Logan who greeted him with similar enthusiasm, then Veronica hugged her stepmother, blinking back tears. She couldn't have asked for better parents.
"Now." Veronica said, "Before I get all marshmallow on you, let's get going."
Wallace and Mac were at the courthouse when they arrived. Wallace greeted Logan with a huge clap on the back, and then hugged Veronica.
"He hurts you, I kill him." Wallace whispered in her ear. "I got connections, you know."
"What connections, Fennel?" Veronica teased, "Some guy named Vinnie who works in x-ray?"
Mac and Alice were next. Mac's hair was freshly dyed for the special occasion and she gripped her girlfriend's hand tightly.
"Hey boss-lady." She said warmly. "It's a good day."
"It is." Veronica agreed. "A good day."
Finally it was time. Veronica stood in front of the judge, one hand firmly gripped by Logan's, a homepicked bouquet in the other, surrounded by all the people she loved. It was so simple. A few questions, then they answered, and then they were inextricably strung together. And the final piece of the puzzle that had started over ten years ago slid into place.
Veronica sat at her desk, staring out the window. Her hand unconsciously went up to touch the scar that ran across her cheek. She thought about it a lot less these days; her scars had started to heal.
Outside the rain dripped off the eves. It was another unusually wet spring in L.A. Veronica listened to the far-off sounds of cars splashing through puddles. Logan would be at home cooking dinner, probably something with brown rice. It was all about whole grains, he'd said the other night and she looked up from her the case notes she was transcribing, arched one eyebrow then proceeded to ignore him. It was the best way to insure he'd think of some way to interrupt her, and sure enough, her neck was being nibbled just a few minutes later and her steno pad was left forgotten on the table as he picked her up and took her into their bedroom.
They were still in her tiny apartment, although Logan's propensity for taking over the dining room table had convinced her one additional room for his office might not be a bad idea. They were planning to start looking for a new place in the next couple weeks.
Veronica idly played with the ring on the ring finger of her left hand. She missed him even though she'd seen him just that morning as they read the paper and drank coffee in silence.
The Morro Bay police department had called a few months after they were married to give Veronica the official word that the investigation into James' death was over and the ruling was self-defense. It was the final chapter for that part of Veronica's life and she'd been more than happy to close the book and leave it behind.
"Night, boss-lady." Mac called from the lobby. They'd finally broken down and bought a real plant, although Veronica had insisted on stashing the fake one behind the receptionist's desk.
"Tell Alice we'll be over for dinner next week." Veronica called out.
"K." Mac yelled back.
Veronica bent down and pulled out a fresh steno pad and put it on her desk. Might as well be prepared. She straightened her nameplate, which always made her think of her dad.
Veronica Mars. P.I. to the Stars.
"You're five-o-clock is here." The receptionist buzzed on Veronica's intercom. Veronica smiled. Business as usual.
"Send him in."
::the end::