Thanks for all the feedback on the previous chapter. Loved it.

Chapter 11

Potential

5:00 pm Wednesday September 5

Nadine talks for a very long time, voice low and bossy. Her eyebrows get higher and higher with every minute. Logan has been condemned to his hospital bed until the plastic surgeon can stitch up his forehead. But he refuses to lie alone. Veronica sits propped up next to him, falling asleep on his shoulder despite the fact that his hands are fidgeting at her waist and his mouth keeps coming down on the tip of her ear. She's not much better, as her fingers play with the buttons of his shirt and her legs curls around his. Her recent bout of hysterics has left her drained and if she's going to have to spend more time in a Neptune hospital she can't think of a more ideal situation then with her eyes closed next to Logan Echolls' warm body. She'll think about the consequences later. Possibly when she can stop picturing them each with bullet wounds.

Nadine is glowering at the both of them, since it's obvious neither is paying any sort of attention to her. "We're in a hospital not a hotel room you sluts," she eventually hisses, hands on her hips.

"Can we please talk about this later," Logan moans dramatically as Veronica's eyes droop again, "just text me your demands or something."

"I'm your agent not your abductor," Nadine snaps as she stands and smoothes out her Chanel skirt, her eyebrow kinks as she points this out reproachfully, "It's a little early to make those kind of jokes wouldn't you say?"

Nadine's constantly worried Logan's proclivity towards sarcasm and snarky comments will reflect poorly on him. He's brilliant when prepared, but stick a microphone in his face at the wrong moment and there's no telling what could come out. Which is why she emphasizes prepared statements and polite silence when faced with a barrage of paparazzi flashes. Veronica's an even looser cannon, and much worse at taking advice. She's good for a guilt trip though, when she's not being ragingly self righteous that is.

"It's never too early for jokes," Logan argues with a smirk and a wink as he adjusts in bed and takes a barely conscious Veronica with him. She makes a noise of protest but then wraps her arm loosely around his waist. Nadine's not sure what to make of it. Not three days ago she had been assured that this was impossible. That the two had no residual feelings after such a long separation. She'd know it was bullshit of course, but even she hadn't expected such a drastic turn around. Although she's sure the adrenaline of two near death experiences has something to do with it, she can't be positive it's something that won't stick. The difference between love and hate has always been so blurry in their relationship. So similar it's easy for either to turn on a dime.

"Just don't talk to the press," Nadine concludes, "I'll release a statement with your name on it. If you're going to leave together have Veronica get the car and pick you up in the back. And for God's sake be careful what you say in front of the staff. Nurses are easily bribed."

"Bye Nadine," Veronica mumbles with a lame wave. Eyes still closed.

"Goodbye children," Nadine grumbles as she exits the room. They can hear her heels clicking on the linoleum long on after she's gone. It takes her a minute, but amid the hustle and bustle of the hospital and the blaring inside her own head Veronica Mars manages to take her second nap in years. Nightmare free.


6:00 pm Wednesday September 5

She comes back into consciousness awhile after Nadine departs. Her whole face is pressed against Logan's shoulder, and a microscopic but mortifying pool of drool is left on the fabric on his shirt. She knows he's not asleep because he's messing with her hair, his head lulled against hers.

She pulls back to blink up at him with a drowsy smile, small and tentative. "Hello," she whispers.

"Hi," he replies with a twin grin as the hand that was in her hair moves to her face. He tilts her chin up and kisses her deeply, taking her completely off guard. Not in a bad way, she finds.

After a minute of complete abandon she pulls aways breathless. "Okay," she interrupts regretfully, "I have to turn my phone on now."

"No," he murmurs with a shake of his head. He smiles sweetly as he rolls on top of her and presses her into the bed, "You really don't."

"I really do," she groans frustratedly as his mouth and teeth find the crook of her neck, twitching as she manages to choke out, "We're lucky my dad hasn't kicked down the door of your room yet."

"I just got pistol whipped," he replies with amusement, hands finding the hem on her dress and the curve of her knee, "I think even Keith would cut me some slack."

She lets his hands and her mind wander for another split second before wriggling out of his grasp to come up for much needed air. The conversation she had with her father just last night ringing in her ears. Another lie she will have to force between them is coming. A story she'll make up in her head as another way to protect and herself. God, Leanne ruins everything. She kisses Logan's temple before replying in apology, "He won't cut me any if I don't call and tell him I'm alive."

"Fine," Logan sighs in reply, smile still in place though, "Call like the wind. But I draw the line at letting you get out of bed."

She rolls her eyes and relaxes back next to him as she turns her phone on. A single missed call from Jackson, which she quickly scrolls away from. One for LM Duncan. Three from Mac. Two from Dick. And fifteen from Keith. "Shit," she curses in frustration as she immediately presses her father's speed dial number.

He answers on the first ring. "Hi Dad," she greets quietly, trying to sound fine. Whatever that means anymore.

"Veronica," he exhales, relief obvious. She closes her eyes, guilt nearly akin to agony. He doesn't deserve this, not even a little. Logan's hand finds her own in the bed and for the second time today, he squeezes. This time it doesn't make her feel better. "Please tell me you're with Logan and not in a ditch" Keith finishes.

"You know I'm okay Dad," Veronica points out, going for calm but coming off shaky, "Leo told you."

"No," Keith corrects, "Leo told me you wouldn't go in the ambulance with Logan, that you were practically hysterical, and that you drove off in some car on your way to God knows where."

"I'm in the hospital with Logan," she affirms, glancing at the wary brunette whose scrutinizing her like a puzzle, "I'm safe and he's sore. I'm sorry I didn't call you sooner. I wanted to make sure he was okay."

"Veronica," Keith begins carefully, "what happened in Logan's house?"

She bites her lip, hesitating for just a little too long before reciting the party line, "I have no idea. I just walked in on the whole thing." Even Logan winces at her terrible attempt at deception.

Keith lets out a breath slowly. "You're lying," he points out calmly.

"I know," Veronica replies with a sharp inhalation, running a shaky hand through her hair as she winces, "But just let me for a little longer. I really am sorry Dad. For all of it. I love you."

There's a long pause as Keith weighs his next move. He hesitates, deciding as long as she's safe he can handle a few more hours of suspense, "I love you too honey. Call me when he's discharged."

She flips the phone shut with closed eyes. Thinking about all the things she should have said. She wonders if she should just resign herself to this feeling. The horrible helplessness when she looks at the mess she's created of her one remaining familial relationship. If there's any way she can save it without being forced to expose all her mistakes. She relaxes against Logan when he pulls her towards him. He doesn't speak. And they stay that way until the doctor finds them.


6:30 pm Wednesday September 5

The hospital's premiere plastic surgeon does the stitches across Logan's forehead. Just along the top of his right eyebrow. They're impeccable. And she wonders how her own stitches cause her to resemble some sort of zombies while his make him look like a rugged hero. How can his stoic face and the thin black lines possibly make him even hotter? God, she shivers, she really is losing it. Thankfully he's a little too distracted to notice her practically drooling.

She's sitting in a chair across the table from him, watching as the needle dips into his flesh over and over. And when her phone buzzes against her leg and she answers reflexively. Mac's voice immediately fills her ear, doing her best to sound only slightly panicked, "How's our boy?"

"Currently taking stitches like a champ," Veronica observes as she watches him skeptically, "Although I suspect the bravado is for my benefit. Or possibly the surplus of attractive nurses that keep asking if he wants any ice chips." Logan makes a face at her, and she smiles back smugly.

Mac ignores the joke completely. "Dick told me not to worry," she blurts, before adding, "Should I be worried?"

"We might have to use his stunt double for wedding photos. But overall his pretty face should be back on the party circuit in a couple of months," Veronica summarizes, glossing over the statement's they'll have to give to the police and the man with the gun who is still at large. No need to add more things to Mac's rapidly growing list. Logan eyes her from where he's patiently sitting under the surgeon's careful gaze. He offers a weak smile which she returns immediately. She's not sure what's going on. This heady feeling that has replaced her defensiveness and guilt. All she knows is she's going to cling it for as long as she can. Try her best to handle the situation delicately before she ruins it with everything she still has to say to him.

"What is wrong with the people in my life?" Mac questions, and from her tone Veronica can almost hear her eyes rolling, "I know all of you, I can figure out when you're not telling me something. You sound way too happy for this situation." Mac's already been through this once, and while she can't read Veronica as easily as her future husband, her best friend isn't really attempting subtlety at the moment."You know," she adds, "I spent basically my entire college career watching you smile at Logan like the two of you knew a secret, and I'm painfully aware that's exactly what you're doing now."

The humor fades from Veronica's tone as she is once again reminded of all she has to atone for. And not just with her father. It's pretty much everyone at this point. A tricky tight rope she is constantly teetering on. Her voice is much more serious when she replies, "I'm sorry about this Mac. I really just want everything to go great for you."

"Bond," Mac replies with another near audible eye roll, "I knew you wouldn't come without your drama. You're my maid of honor because I love you. And I couldn't care less what happens between you and Logan as long as both of you end up standing next to me on Saturday."

Veronica's smile returns. "You're the best Q," she compliments in relief, adding gratefully, "And I can't wait to be your sidekick this weekend."

Veronica hangs up the phone after a quick goodbye and pushes her chair back so she can set her chin on the table. She slides her hand across the surface palm up, her eyebrow raising at Logan's locked jaw but perfectly calm face as the needle slides into his skin again. "How you doin' rock star?" she murmurs.

He laces their fingers together, forcing another smile she doesn't believe, "I'm fine. The topical drugs here are excellent."

"Excellent topical drugs," the cute plastic surgeon agrees as he continues his precise stitching.

"If you say so," Veronica answers quietly as she sets her chin on top of their interlaced fingers. She remembers her last stitches experience to be less then enjoyable. Although at the time she had been battered, scared, and at the tail end of a miscarriage. Given the circumstances she's sure what Logan's going through is slightly less traumatic. But she still thinks he's lying. There's not much she can do about it though. So she squeezes his hand. And he almost laughs.


7:00 pm Wednesday September 5

The plastic surgeon has just left when she realizes she's going to have to shatter this newfound peace. She appraises him from across the table, face losing warmth rapidly as she questions, "So what are we doing?"

His mind races at all the topics she could be referring to, "What do you mean?"

"Leo's going to be here soon," she points out, anxiety creeping into her body as she imagines them stumbling over words and details, "Or my Dad. Or someone else. What's the story Logan?"

He looks at her for a long time. This is a memory he'd rather leave in the past. Tense discussions about image, about the things she had to say to protect him, to make him look good. The things he had to do that she would hate, and that he would hate too. His voice is hollow and he can't look at her when he states, "A crazy guy broke into my house and pointed a gun at me. We struggled but then you came in and scared him off."

"They're going to want you to give a description," she points out.

"He was wearing a mask," he answers just as quickly.

Veronica leans back, pulling her hand away from his. He doesn't wince but he wants to. It hurts nearly as bad as the stitches, "And that's it?" she questions, frustration creeping in.

"Veronica," Logan starts, rubbing his forehead as he tries to diffuse the growing tension that has crept into the room, "there's a pretty big chance this guy's going to drop his manuscript after this afternoon. If he gets arrested it's going to gain even more attention."

"What if he comes back?" she volleys back like a pro, shifting from anger to concern. Imagining all the terrifying situations Logan could get himself into.

Logan snorts, "Jameson isn't a killer Veronica, he's a reporter. He was pissed this afternoon because he was supposed to get his money. However, my star employee Eli had an epiphany and decided to delay the transaction. Hence the gun wielding. He's not going to come back to finish the job." He can tell by her face that this is an unsatisfactory answer. That she's about to ask him how he can be sure. So he beats her to her punch, "And if he does I'll take care of it," he waves off.

She tries to keep from snorting herself, "Like you did this afternoon?" His face flashes annoyance and hurt, enough to make her back off ever so slightly. "How?" she questions in a softer tone.

"Nadine's been bugging me to hire security for forever," Logan responds simply, "Guess I'll have to cave." He's not going to tell her that after the break in gets published he would have had to cave anyway. If only to make sure no adoring fans tried to get face time in with him too.

"So you're getting a bodyguard?" she infers wryly, taking his compliance to the extreme as usual.

"No," he rolls his eyes, cracking his first smile since this conversation started, "not a bodyguard smart ass. People to watch my house."

She sighs, finding another hole in his plan almost immediately, "And what about when you're not at home?"

"I'll be fine," Logan huffs again.

"I don't believe you," she replies with fake sweetness.

"Well the tables have turned then," he hisses, "And I guess you're going have to trust me like you asked me to trust you the dozen times we had the private investigator fight."

"Please," she can't suppress her snort this time, "You may have said all the right things after those fights. But let's be honest and admit that after that first time you just started hiring better thugs to follow me around. Where was the trust then Mr. Martyr?" His mouth falls open at the accusation, but then quickly snaps shut. He wonders at the implications briefly. That she'd indulged his paranoia in order to give him piece of mind. That after freaking out she'd quietly allowed herself to be followed for the better part of four years in order to keep at least some of the peace in their relationship.

"They were good," Veronica says with almost no hint of annoyance, mostly just a mix of pride and amusement, "But I'm better."

He doesn't have the words to defend himself. His proposed strategy if he had gotten caught at the time would have been to start yelling. Which doesn't seem to be appropriate now. "Veronica-" he sputters

But none of that is her point, and she waves him away just like he did her, "It's the past Logan. And if I wasn't positive it was purely to ensure my safety we would have dealt with it then. Right now we need to talk about the future. And if I'm going to obstruct justice for you I need to know you're not going to wind up getting shot based on a problem that barely even involves you."

"Um there's no guarantee for that," he points out, "And even if I were to get a bodyguard, which you should know for me is filed under death comma fates worse then, it wouldn't put a bullet repellent force field around me. Come on Veronica, you saw the guy yourself, does he really look capable of picking me off with a sniper rifle or something?"

She looks at him like he's absolutely crazy, "The guy broke into your house you arrogant jackass. Pointed a gun at your chest. It's obvious that you have absolutely no idea what he's capable of."

He pauses, and tries not to feel like he's caving when he adds, "Just give me a few days, I'm going to do damage control as soon as possible. Pay him an egregious amount of money and hopefully ensure we never have to talk about this again."

There's a knock on the door, but Logan doesn't look away even as Leo walks into the room. "Trust me," he mouthes.

Veronica turns to Leo, who knows he's missing something. A smile forms on her lips as she comes to her decision, "Hey there deputy. Long time no see."


9:30 pm Wednesday September 5

They walk into the house like wary soldiers after the war has ended. He's exhausted but trying not to show it, and has an arm wrapped tentatively around her waist. She's as raw as a rash and trying not to lean on anything that would hurt him. Her whole body on edge after all the prodding.

Their interview had been long and repetitive. They had refused to be separated when Leo had tried to relegate them to different rooms. And Leo's suspicion had grown with each question until Logan had pointedly asked if he needed a lawyer. Leo had rolled his eyes but backed off. Finally stating that he had no more questions and that officers would be positioned in front of Logan's house until further notice. And then they had finally left the hospital after what felt like an eternity.

He heads upstairs to assess how ridiculous he looks in his brace while she veers towards the kitchen to assess the damage done to the room. They are comfortable with one another, falling back into old habits, but it is no longer as frantic and intense as it was when they were alone at the hospital. Neither one quite knows what to do next. And both are too tired to initiate what would most likely be an awkward conversation about the state of their current relationship.

She called her dad while Logan had been completing his discharge papers. He had offered to help her avoid the paparazzi frenzy by picking her up at the hospital in Alicia's car. She shot him down immediately, she needed to make sure Logan got home safe. Phantom loyalty that has left her in the awkward position of wandering his unfamiliar house. Her father hadn't pressed about the details of the break in. He was good that way. She was preoccupied and he knew it, however that didn't stop him from saying 'we'll talk again soon' by way of a goodbye.

Veronica jolts when she enters the kitchen. Maria is icing a cake at the counter, looking much older then when she had last seen her. When Veronica and Logan had moved in together Nadine had insisted they hire outside help, persisting to such an obnoxious degree that Veronica had eventually relented. She had interviewed a slew of potential stalkers and opportunists until finally finding Maria. Nadine had wanted a service, one that sent a random and faceless girl every morning. Logan had been inclined to agree until Veronica pointed out that if someone was going to have access to her personnel items on a daily basis it wasn't going to be some stranger who she wasn't comfortable with. It was going to be Maria.

The Polish mother of two turns and regards her with an equal amount of surprise. "Veronica," she exclaims, excitedly crossing the room to wrap her thick arms around the tiny brunette. "Look how beautiful," the maid observes in a heavy European accent, "but still too thin."

"How are you 'Ria," Veronica replies softly, still wrapped in the woman's arms, "your letter are always too short."

"That's because I can't send all those pretty pictures like you do," Maria counters with a final squeeze before pushing the girl to arms length so she can scrutinize her further, warm smile still consistent, "I framed the one you took of the Statue of Liberty. You've always had such a gift sweetheart."

"It's just a hobby," Veronica shrugs. Maria had always made a big deal about her pictures, even the boring surveillance kind. When Veronica had moved away and she and Maria continued to communicate through letters she had found she had very little to say. Her life had grown considerably less interesting when she left Logan. And she couldn't exactly talk about work. So she had sent the woman pictures, tons of them over the years.

Veronica's eyes widen, "Is Logan making you work crazy hours to suit his schedule? Why in the world would he need you so late on a Wednesday?"

"Richard called me," Maria corrects. And Veronica wonders if Dick had filled Maria in on all the details of this afternoon. She guesses not. That would have been what they talked about first. "Such a sweet boy," Maria continues, "we talked about his fiance. The nice girl with the odd name."

"Mac," Veronica answers fondly.

"Yes," Maria nods, "The one that used to have all those silly streaks in her hair. She brings Logan all these deserts I have to throw out. He told me that there had been some sort of incident. That the kitchen needed my magic touch. So charming."

"Yes," Veronica agrees just a tad too kindly, "those are the first words I would use to describe Richard. So. Charming. But speaking of deserts 'Ria, what is that smell?"

"Red velvet cake with the cream cheese frosting," Maria turns towards the confection absentmindedly before winking back at Veronica, "Logan's favorite."

Veronica sighs at the thoughtfulness. It's why she always loved having Maria around, why Logan had taken to her almost immediately. After awhile she had become more then an employee, more then a friend. She was family. And in gratitude for all Logan had done for her, Maria took care of him like he was one of her own. "You're too good to us Maria," Veronica points out, "You always were."

Maria beams, meddling mother side showing ever so slightly as she dares to hope, "It's been a long time since you've used the word us. Logan too. But maybe now that you're back for the wedding..."

Veronica pauses, head racing. She knows exactly how dangerous the game she's playing is. But right now she has no idea what's going to happen from one moment to the next. And surprisingly it doesn't bother her as much as it should. She wraps Maria in another hug.

"Maybe," she whispers into her neck.


9:45 pm Wednesday September 5

Maria departs after a few more minutes of bending Veronica's ear about New York and her future in Neptune. Veronica sets a date to take the woman to lunch after the wedding and Maria leaves with another hug and a kiss on the cheek. Veronica wraps the cake in tinfoil and sets it in the fridge. She couldn't be less hungry.

When Logan doesn't come down she goes upstairs to find him, remembering from her past experience where his bedroom is located. She finds him in the marble bathroom attached to the master bed, leaning over the sink as he inspects his stitches. He's found his way out of his shirt, and there's a bruise forming across his shoulder blades and along his right ribs. She winces just looking at them.

She focuses on the stitches though. "You may have a scar," she whispers teasingly.

Something flashes as his eyes focus on her in the doorway. But it's gone too fast for her to analyze. "It'll match the ones on my back," he replies in a similarly low voice.

Her eyes snap to his face immediately. She knows each and every inch of his body by heart, has catalogued all of his imperfections to such an extent that she barely even notices them now. From the slender white lines made by a belt to the angry red spheres from what she shudderingly assumes are from lit cigars. They are faded and sparse but they exist. And every time she sees them she is reminded of how very fragile and flawed America's golden boy truly is.

"I'm sorry Logan," she murmurs, and the ache returns. The one where she would do anything to reach out and touch him. Where the space between them is almost more punishment then she can bare. She crosses the room, hopping up on the counter near him and pressing her back against the mirror, which spreads the length of the wall. They are close, but the hostility in his voice and eyes keeps her from reaching out.

"You said that already," he whispers, still looking straight ahead in the mirror but no longer focusing on his face. And she had, whispered it in the hospital room in between their first kisses in six years.

"I know," she answers back. But then she had been apologizing for her mother. For allowing her family to put him in such a horrible position. Now it is for more then that. It is for the shame she's felt ever since she got Logan's shirt off that very first time. She thought she was such a great detective. When really all the facts had been staring her in the face for the majority of her life. They've never talked about it, and she knows he's never even contemplated blaming her. But that doesn't stop her from blaming herself. "Logan-"

"Veronica," he muses, voice lighter as he finally allows himself to look at her. Legs curled into her chest, hair wild, and face conflicted. His battered fingers clutch the marble as he fights the urge to push those messy dark bangs out of her eyes.

"Why did you become an actor?" she blurts suddenly. She feels like an idiot immediately.

"What?" he blinks.

The truth is she has so many questions and answers pooling in her head. And too much time to think about them all. That's not what she wanted to say though. Not even close. "I just never asked before," she winces, "I was afraid of what the answer would be. You don't have to say anything. It's just one of the several things I was thinking about as I walked up your stairs."

He smiles, and it's only kind of a good thing, catching the hint he explains, "I was giving you an out if you were feeling the familiar urge to bolt."

"I need the gun remember," she points out. Remembering with a flash that she has to get her father's gun out of Logan's safe and return it to Keith's glove compartment. It's the first time she's thought about it in hours.

"You remember the code. Probably have it memorized," he replies with a raised eyebrow. Daring her to continue. To keep pretending.

"Do you want me to leave?" she asks, deflated. She should leave. If she had any sense of self-preservation she would. This is bound to blow up in both their faces.

He holds on for as long as he can, but the answer is familiar. The emotions as crystal clear as they were when he was seventeen. "When have I ever wanted you to leave Veronica?" he answers.

She tilts her head against the glass, and it makes her eyes easier to read. She's going to say something weird again. And he just does not have the energy to process his feelings about yet another Mars bombshell. But before he can stop her she's started. "I quit my job," she begins, "That's why I'm moving back. I quit my job because I…because-"

She's really going to say it. Not sure which explanation she's going to give. LM Duncan or Alex Corso. Maybe both. But he interrupts, sliding across the counter and stopping her short. He rest his chin on top of her bent knees, his hand coming to circle around her bare ankles, thumbs brushing against the dips and curves of her bones. Immediately every nerve ending in her body is standing at strict attention. While he's always had a way with words, Logan's a true master of action. And she's aware that the talking portion of the evening has drawn to a close. She staid. And they both know what it means.

"I wanna know," he breathes into the thin skin of her kneecaps, "I really do. But it been an excruciating day." She's having a very hard time focusing, his hands are wandering again, moving from her ankles to her calves, sneaking under her dress and finding the sides of her thighs. Her eyes close, breath growing shallow as they move up, down, and across her skin, creating a maddeningly warm contrast to the cold marble underneath her and the glass pressed against her back.

"Veronica," he calls sweetly, and it is a physical chore but she manages to open her eyes to look at him. His smile has a bit of a triumphant edge, and she might be mad if it didn't feel so good. "Can we talk about this later?" he asks teasingly, hands finding her hips to drag her close. Her legs part around his waist and his hands release their grip in order to lay his palms flat on the marble on either side of her. It brings his face down so close their foreheads press together and she can feel his exhalations on her lips. It's his turn to close his eyes. To wait.

"Let's talk about it in the morning," she relents with whatever strength she has left.

This took forever to write. Please review and tell me what you think.