Title: Decade

Pairing: L/V

Rating: R, definitely R and maybe verging on NC-17.

Spoilers: All aired episodes.

Word Count: 1,605

Summary: Future fic. Veronica and Logan think they have moved on with their lives. They both end up in New York, where Logan is an actor and Veronica a photographer. L/V.

Disclaimer: Obviously, these characters do not belong to me. I have just adopted them for a little while.

Author Note:I know this chapter is shorter than my previous ones, but I hope you guys still like me after a year plus hiatus. I wrote this chapter in 2 hours because I was reading your guys' reviews and I felt bad for letting you down! So I hope you like this chapter and where this story is going.

Veronica just wanted to get out of there. Her boobs were starting to fall out of her strapless dress, her feet ached in her heels and she felt woozy from the champagne, a half-full glass of which she was still clutching as an excuse to do something with her hands. She saw Logan across the room, chatting with Alec Baldwin and a couple women she didn't recognize. One of whom kept touching Logan on the arm when she was speaking to him and punctuating the conversation every few minutes with her bubbly laugh.

Veronica tried to remember how she got there. She had gone up to Logan's the day of the interview, just so they could prepare, take stock, and maybe make out.

"So, we need to get our story straight." Veronica entered Logan's loft unceremoniously, bearing two cups of Starbucks.

Logan looked barely conscious, his hair completely disordered. "And a good morning to you, too." He grabbed one of the coffees

Veronica gave his pajamas the once over. "It's 9:30. We have to be at the studio at 11. I felt like maybe we should have a brief discussion before we get all sharey with the American public about our prior lives together."

Veronica walked to his couch and sat down. Logan shuffled after her, yawning and collapsed on the other side of the sofa. "Drink up", she said pushing his coffee cup towards his mouth. He obeyed gratefully, and then blinked his eyes a few times. Veronica watched him, unable to prevent a smile from creeping onto her face.

Logan finally seemed to get his bearings. "Why are you here again?" was his first coherent response. When he added, " 'Cause you know I don't usually do booty calls in the morning…" Veronica knew he had woken up properly. She ignored his suggestive comment. "We have an interview today. Remember?" She spoke slowly, spacing out the words as if he was unusually slow on the uptake.

Logan yawned and spread himself out. "Oh, that. Can I go back to bed? I'm sure it won't be anything too unexpected…"

What she did not expect was his sudden invitation to go to his premiere. Plans, she thought, already? Veronica hadn't thought beyond their interview, beyond the next 24 hours. Plans meant the future, and as both of them knew so well, the future could be frighteningly uncertain. But how could she say no when they were supposed to give an interview at Vanity Fair that day, when she didn't want to slam the door in his face, when there was no reason why she shouldn't go? So here she was, at an event full of strangers, faces familiar from magazines and a man she might not know anymore.

She and Logan had started the evening together; he had been attentive, eager for her approval. The movie had been decent for its kind and she'd laughed and gasped at the right moment. She dealt with the weird phenomenon of seeing Logan in two places at once by ignoring his burning gaze upon her. At the afterparty, they had somehow gotten separated in the way of parties. She had started speaking to two young actresses while Logan was swept away to be introduced to some producer who wanted to chat about a possible new project. The actresses were nice, mostly, but a bit too inquisitive for Veronica's liking. She wasn't quite ready to discuss her uncertain emotions with party acquaintances. They soon ran out of topics of mutual interest when they discovered that Veronica barely knew anyone there—they excused themselves to refill their glasses and caught up with some obviously better informed comrades. Veronica chatted with a few other people, but soon grew tired of the questions about herself and Logan; she had fielded them at the interview, but she didn't need the constant polite questions that felt to her like prying in an atmosphere where she felt sure she did not fit in.

It had been sweltering underneath the lights as Logan and Veronica posed together for the photographer. Veronica was itching to get out from the spotlight and get behind a camera herself. She had never kicked the habit of shying away from attention when it felt nonessential. She had put off thinking about the consequences of this article, as she still needed to keep herself together for the interview afterwards. It was strange to know she was nearly voluntarily facing the kind of scrutiny she so detested, and answering questions she never wanted to be asked again. Again, the past refused to stay where it belonged.

"So you guys are really like high school sweethearts, is that right?" their interviewer Amanda asked, pushing her stylish glasses back up her nose. Veronica opened her mouth, but Logan placed a hand on her knee and cut in, saying, "Yeah, that's right. We just recently caught up again and realized how much you still share with the people you went to school with. Don't you agree that that's something special?" He smiled winningly at Amanda, who smiled in return. Veronica almost rolled her eyes at his obvious flirting, but caught herself at the last minute. You only have to be earnest for another 30 minutes, she reminded herself, Keep it together.

When the interview finally ended, Norm came over to thank them. Veronica again had to squeeze out an insincere smile at the man who made her parade her feelings in front of him and the rest of the VF readership. And she had been so grateful for her big break just a few days ago. It felt like years ago. Logan put his hand on the small of her back as he escorted her down to her cab. She couldn't help but be hyper-aware of his touch. The artificiality of the interview only made her more uncertain of what they were to each other. All she knew was that "high school sweethearts" was far, far away from an apt description. She almost laughed at all the tumult that completely failed to be covered by that stupid cliché. Before he put her in her cab, he kissed her cheek, saying, "I'll pick you up at 7 on Tuesday. I know you'll look beautiful."

As she drove away, she quashed the butterflies in her stomach by thinking, SHIT. I need a new dress.

And there she stood, crumpling the most beautiful dress she could find that sort of fit her budget. So maybe she splurged a little—Logan's face as he looked her over when she opened her apartment door made it worth it.

But now he was out of her eyesight and she was fiddling with her champagne flute. She set it on the nearest table and made for the ladies' room. All the champagne had taken its toll on her bladder and she was relieved to see that there was no line outside the door.

She was washing her hands and trying to get her hair to look presentable when she noticed something odd in one of the stalls reflected behind her. She turned and saw someone's legs sticking out as if its occupant had been vomiting into the toilet and passed out. People should really have a buddy if they're going to go puking in a public restroom, Veronica thought as she pushed open the stall door.

She recognized death before she recognized Olivia. She has never seen the living woman, only her picture in the tabloids. And here she was, dead. As much as she had tried to forget the many dead bodies she had had the misfortune to come into contact with, there was something so unforgettable about how inanimate they were, with their gruesome resemblance to a living, breathing person. She screamed. She couldn't say if it was from fear or horror, but she certainly couldn't control the sound coming out of her throat. Next, she managed to open her clutch with her trembling fingers and fish out her cell phone.

"911 operator. What is your emergency?"

Logan was distracted from his only mildly entertaining conversation by the commotion across the room. He immediately looked for Veronica, over by the large decorative plant where he had seen her last. He excused himself from his companions and tried to find out what the whole thing was about. The fray seemed to center around the women's bathroom, and Logan pushed his way through the crowd. He had learned early in life that where there was smoke there was fire, and where there was fire, more often than not, was his Veronica.

He froze when he saw her standing white-faced outside the door of the bathroom, in a swarm of security personnel. When he met her eyes, she stumbled towards him and threw herself into his arms. He embraced her tightly, and for a moment he couldn't help thinking, If only the whole night had been like this. He was shocked back into reality by her quavering voice. "It's Olivia," she said, her voice only just above a whisper, so he had to strain to hear her.

Logan was puzzled and immediately defensive. "Did she do something to you?" he growled.

Veronica looked up into his eyes, an unreadable expression in her eyes. "No. She's—she's dead. I found her. On the bathroom floor. I don't know what happened, Logan, I couldn't do anything, I—"

Logan interrupted her by pulling her still closer and saying, "Shhhh. It'll be okay, it'll be okay." He kissed the top of her head and caressed her shoulder, but all he could think was Not again. Not again.

If you still care about this story, please review!It makes me happy and it makes me write (eventually). I am planning on writing another chapter very soon though, so stay tuned!