AN: I really don't like this chapter... I've been having a little Writer's block when it comes to this story... but I wanted to post something. So here it is. Oh, and I made Logan Jewish in this fic… for no major reason, really. Just a joke.

Chapter 9

Veronica's P.O.V.

He rolled the pipe along the floor with his fingers and then stopped it, pushing it back the other way. Back and forth, over and over again.

Raising his head, he glanced at me and tapped his head backwards on the edge of the sink as he sat, leaning against the cabinet doors. He clicked his tongue in boredom and continued to push the pipe back and forth as he tapped his head.

"You know," he said abruptly, facing me as I sat against the wall across from him. "I still have to tinkle."

"That's unfortunate."

"Not really considering where we are."

"Really, considering who you're with."

"You know, this endangers my health. My kidneys could burst."

"Okay nimrod, you would piss yourself way before you got to that point. That being said, your health is the least of my concerns."

"It happened on The Simpsons," he warned.

"Oh, in that case," I paused, resting a finger thoughtfully on the edge of my mouth. "Um… no?"

"Oh, Jesus Christ! Can you give me a little bit of a break!"

"First of all, stop that. You're Jewish—"

"Oy vey, Yahweh! Can you give me a schtikel of a break!"

I stopped and suddenly burst into laughter. Logan stared at me, a bit dumbfounded and this only made me laugh harder.

"Are you admiring my wit?" he asked, smiling victoriously and shaking his head at me. "I knew you thought I was clever. Saw you biting back a smirk when I made that Master Bates crack…"

I shook my head, still giggling.

"I'm admiring the absurdity of the situation." I finally answered, between chuckles. "I mean, I, Veronica Mars, Outsider Supreme, am at an 09er party, and so far Rod Sterling hasn't even made an appearance."

He grinned and rolled the pipe my way.

"Oh and after months of relative isolation turns out there's a guy here—a really great one—who likes me" I continued, catching the pipe between my fingers and rolling it back to him "…and I'm trapped in the bathroom with Logan Echolls while he practices his Yiddish. Life has a way of surprising you…"

"Great-a great guy! Good Moses, what's so great about him?"

"Um… he's nothing like you," I smiled graciously, catching the pipe as he returned.

Logan feigned an exaggerated expression of hurt and mimed an arrow reaching his chest before deadpanning a "Bite me."

"Hey, I came to this party without Hepatitis and that's how I'm planning on leaving," I retorted, cocking my head challengingly to the side.

"I don't why you're being so huffy over this. You don't even like this guy—"

"Excuse me?"

"He's not your type—"

I imitated a car break and indicated towards my ear. "Uh, come again?"

"He's. Not. Your. Type."

"Okay, this just reached a whole new zone of twilight. Explain to me how you would know my type."

"Yeah, okay. Maybe he's Old School Veronica's type. But not yours."

"Hi. Same person," I retorted, with a mock wave.

"No. Not same person." He leaned forward emphatically. "He's naive, sweet Veronica's type—not new, edgy, flippy-haired… Velvet Underground T-Shirt wearing, Veronica's type."

"Aw, you notice my T-Shirts," I replied with a sugary smile. "How… alarmed am I."

"And he might be queer," he added, ignoring me.

"And you would know that because your eyes are always peeled for a potential prospect?"

"Wanna know how I know he's gay? He likes Coldplay."

I rolled my eyes at him. "Logan Echolls. All pop-culture references. No substance."

"I keep all my substance here," he smirked, grabbing at his crotch. "Geddit? I was referring to the large size of my penis."

I shook my head at him and chuckled, ignoring his last remark. "Where's that from anyway?"

"40 Year Old Virgin."

"Oh."

We fell into an awkward silence again, the only sound being the pipe rolling back and forth between us for a few minutes and the faraway noise of the party outside.

"Coldplay isn't that bad," I said finally. "I kinda like them."

"You shame your Velvet Underground T-Shirt."

"Chris Martin could even be evocative of some later Lou Reed stuff—"

"You shut your mouth! Lou Reed is a god!"

"Okay, I'm reaching."

"Yeah, no shit. Seriously wash out your mouth with some soap—"

"Whatever!" I snapped. "It doesn't matter what kind of music we listen to… the point is I like him."

"Oh, you do not," he remarked passively. "You just like that he's nice to you… cause, well…. no one else is."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Yeah and whose fault is that?"

"Um, yours?"

I scoffed and turned my head to the side, catching our little peace pipe as it rolled my way and tossing it to the corner.

Logan's P.O.V.

I took out a packet of Juicy fruit from my pocket and she eyed it briefly before snapping her head back to the wall and pouting, her arms still crossed in annoyance. Leaning forward, I offered her a stick of gum.

"Truce?" I asked, raising my eyebrows. "Call it an olive branch."

She looked at it suspiciously for a moment before finally taking one.

"Thanks," she mumbled, returning her gaze to the wall as she popped it in her mouth.

I sighed and rolled my eyes but I don't think she noticed. "If it's any consolation… I can't eat Drumsticks either…"

She blushed and looked down at her hand, an embarrassed smile spreading across her face. "You heard that, huh?"

"Yeah…"

Veronica looked down again and darted her eyes up at me. She tucked a lock of hair nervously behind her ear.

"Um… Logan?" she began, apprehensively.

"Yeah?"

"You know what I hate about Juicy Fruit? Loses its flavor in about three seconds…" she blurted, shaking her head and spitting it out into the wrapper.

"Uh, you want another one?"

"No, I, uh… that's not what I was gonna say," she paused. "Are you… um, are you okay? I mean, are you hurt?"

"What?"

She nodded towards the First Aid Kit on the counter behind me.

"Oh nothing gets by you," I retorted, looking down at my lap.

"It's kinda what I'm known for."

"Oh, no V. You're known for your talent for a hand-job."

"Don't be a jackass," she scoffed.

"It's kinda what I'm known for."

"Logan—"

"Drop it."

And we fell back again into an awkward silence.