Veronica awoke the next morning to find that Logan had already left the suite. She immediately suppressed a vague — and entirely unwelcome — feeling of disappointment, and reminded herself that she'd already intended to avoid Dick, so avoiding Logan instead would be no trouble at all.
Her plan for the day had been the beach, and she saw no reason to change it. But as she settled onto a lounger, she recalled with a guilty sigh that she'd never returned any of Mac's calls or messages. Mostly because she'd had no idea what to say. She knew she couldn't put it off forever, though, so as soon as she'd coated herself with sunscreen she fished into her beach bag and pulled out her phone.
Only to have it drop from her slippery hands right into the sand.
"Fuck!"
"Well, now, that doesn't sound very bride-like, Veronica. Shouldn't bluebirds be singing around your head or something?"
Logan bent to pick up her phone and then plopped himself onto an adjacent lounger.
"Very amusing. Now can I have my phone back?"
He smirked as he tossed the phone into her lap, watching while she vigorously toweled the sand from it.
"So, what's with the phone? Can't you unplug even for a couple of hours?"
She frowned. "It's just… I never called Mac back. Or even texted her. And if I don't say something soon, I know she'll worry."
"Oh. So…what are you gonna tell her?" His amused tone had given way to something a bit more wary.
After careful thought, Veronica decided that the less said, the better.
"This," she said, typing quickly, holding her phone up so he could read the message.
Everything's fine. Don't worry.
"And everything will be," he said determinedly.
Logan's whole body seemed to relax when she nodded and said, "Of course."
"Hey, what say we go for a little swim?" he suggested. "I mean, SoCal is great, but hell, this is the South Pacific!"
So when he rose and held out his hand, Veronica found herself taking it and racing down to the shore with him, the two of them splashing about in the water the same way they had when they were twelve years old.
(Before they knew about every horrible thing life would throw at them — and every terrible thing they'd do to each other.)
They spent several hours enjoying the sun and surf, and then Logan insisted they stop for a quick lunch at the hotel's outdoor cafe.
"I barely had any breakfast," he said, "and besides, anything we can do to inflate Dick's bill works for me."
Veronica laughed and agreed, grabbing for her beach bag as the two of them headed across the sand towards the hotel.
But she had more on her mind than food.
"So, Logan," she said a few minutes later, after swallowing a large bite of burger. "I was kind of wondering about those, um, other projects you mentioned yesterday…"
Logan threw back his head and laughed.
"Veronica Mars, your insatiable curiosity just never lets me down. It's only been… what?… 16 hours?… and you're already trying to get the details about something I barely mentioned in passing."
Veronica tilted her head and gave him what she hoped was her most winning smile.
"So are you going to satisfy my curiosity?"
"Sorry, nope," he shook his head. "Not today."
"Really, Logan, why can't you just tell me…"
"How about this?" he interrupted with a smile. "If you're still interested in what I've been up to when we get back to Neptune, then I'll tell you all about it."
Veronica's eyes widened and her pulse began to race.
"So… the projects are in Neptune and-and… you're in Neptune?"
Logan nodded. "Yes to both."
And all of a sudden Veronica needed to get away. To be somewhere else, somewhere she could process this new information without having to stare across the table at Logan.
"You know what? I don't think I'm really that hungry," she said, slipping out of her chair and picking up her bag. "I think maybe I'll take a nap before the, um, ceremony."
Logan blinked up at her in surprise. "You're not going to finish your burger?"
"Uh-uh. Nope. Gotta go. Meet you in the living area at 3:45."
And then she was practically running back into the hotel.
Minutes later, as hot water from the jetted shower sluiced over her body, Veronica wondered how the hell she hadn't known that Logan was back in Neptune. And what in the world he could possibly be doing that was such a big secret.
But the one thing she didn't wonder about — the thing that never even crossed her mind — was what had happened to her plan to avoid Logan Echolls.
XXXXXXXXXX
Mac had requested pictures, and it was such a simple request that Veronica could hardly refuse it. But if the event was to be visually memorialized, she'd wanted to look nice, so Veronica had brought with her a dress worthy of being worn by a bride.
Even if she was only the proxy bride at a marriage-of-convenience wedding between two people she was certain were utterly wrong for each other.
Of course, she'd thought the pictures would be taken with her nemesis, Dick Casablancas, and that they'd probably mostly consist of them making faces at each other. But as it turned out, it was her many-times ex who'd be playing pretend-groom to her pretend-bride, Logan who'd be the guy in the frame with her, and she was doubly glad she had something decent to wear.
There hadn't been many choices in her closet, but she had had one dress, bought months ago for a dinner she'd never ended up attending, which had then been tucked away behind all her more practical clothes. It was a white lace sundress, with a scalloped hem that fell just above her knees, and a sweetheart neckline that did great things for her breasts.
Everything she'd learned over the past 24 hours had completely unsettled Veronica, and left her teetering in the edge of her last nerve. So if she had to pull herself together for the sake of Mac's photo album, she was determined to do it looking her absolute best.
At three o'clock, Veronica stopped pretending to nap, and began to dress. She slipped the lacy sundress over her head, and arranged her hair to fall in loose waves around her face. By the time she finished fussing with her makeup, she'd begun to think that maybe she'd gone a little overboard, but the reaction from Logan when she finally emerged into the living area just before 3:45 changed her mind.
A strange expression lit his face when he first caught sight of her, but it was quickly gone, replaced by a wide admiring smile.
"Wow, Veronica, you look… beautiful."
She smiled a little nervously.
"Says the faux-groom to the faux-bride."
"You're doing Mac proud."
"Yeah, well, you look pretty nice yourself," she told him sincerely, gazing up at the crisp white shirt, sleeves rolled up over muscled forearms, that was tucked into a pair of immaculately pressed khaki pants.
Logan smirked down at her. "We're both doing them so proud that they'll wish they'd done it themselves."
"They are doing it themselves," she reminded him with a wry smile.
"Ah, so they are," he said, offering her his arm with a flourish. "Shall we mosey on over to the chapel, then?"
When Veronica looped her arm through his, a feeling of unreality swept over her. And as they made their way down the elevator and through the hotel toward the room set aside for such events, that feeling didn't seem to dissipate.
At 3:55, they opened the door to the temporary "chapel" to find the officiant already waiting.
The man looked up with a relieved smile.
"Ah, there you are, Mr. Casablancas. My name is Frank. And I was beginning to wonder if you'd forgotten the time."
"Uh, no…" Logan began, but the man interrupted him.
"Oh, there's no problem. It's just that we should get a move on because there's another couple booked at 4:30…"
"No, I meant," Logan persisted, "that I'm not Mr. Casablancas, I'm his proxy, Logan Echolls."
Frank frowned and glanced quickly at Veronica.
"His proxy? Oh! But I understood that it was the bride who couldn't, that is…"
He cleared his throat nervously.
"No, no, you're right," Veronica hastened to assure him. "Ms. Mackenzie couldn't make it either. I'm her proxy, Veronica Mars."
He looked puzzled. "So, then… two proxies?"
"Is that a problem?" Logan asked mildly.
"Uh… no, no, I don't believe so. No, I'm sure not," he added with more confidence, displaying a toothy smile that Veronica would swear she'd seen on a Wanted poster somewhere.
"Do you have the license? Oh, no, wait! I see everything was done online. I have the license right here, and, oh, yes, the proxy documents."
Frank looked up from his computer. "Have you brought the rings?"
Veronica glanced up in surprise when Logan fished a ring box from his pocket.
"There are rings?" she muttered.
"Dick insisted. Maybe he thought he'd feel more like he was really married if the rings were actually used during the, uh, ceremony." Logan shrugged. "Who knows. This is Dick we're talking about."
Veronica could see that Frank was getting antsy.
"If we could get started? I'll just call my wife. Matilda!" He raised his voice. "The folks are here for the Casablancas wedding!"
Logan sighed, but there seemed little point in reminding Frank again.
A woman rushed in through a back door, camera in one hand and flowers in another. She thrust the flowers, a bouquet of red roses, at a bewildered Veronica.
Veronica blinked. "There are flowers?"
"You… that is, Mr. Casablancas… ordered them. My wife takes care of all those little details. She'll take the pictures, and since no one else appears to be coming…?" Brows raised, he looked his question, and they shook their heads. "Then she'll be your witness, too."
Frank cleared his throat and pulled out a small booklet. "So if you folks could just take your places."
And that was how Veronica found herself dressed in white lace, bouquet clutched in her hands, exchanging marriage vows with Logan Echolls. Somehow, she couldn't keep herself from looking up into his eyes when he placed the ring on her finger, and her breath caught at the expression on his face.
The whole thing felt more than a little surreal — like she'd been transported to some alternate universe.
"I now pronounce you husband and wife. Er… that is, I pronounce Mr. Casablancas and Ms Mackenzie husband and wife. Or… would it be Mr. and Mrs. Casablancas?"
"It doesn't matter," Logan said, amused.
"Right. So would you… care to kiss the bride?"
"Oh, but…" Veronica began, amazed at Frank's seeming inability to connect the dots, only to be interrupted by Logan.
"Oh, cmon, Veronica," he said with an impudent smile. "You wouldn't want to deprive Mac of her bridal kiss."
And then he was bending down, his lips soft as he kissed her sweetly, and she was too stunned by her reaction to the touch of his lips to even hear the click of the camera.
Logan pulled back with a sigh, the amusement gone from his face.
He cleared his throat.
"So are we done here?"
"Well, we need to take the rest of the pictures, and then there are the papers to sign."
"Papers?"
"Well, yes! You just got married. Or… no, you didn't. But we still need your signatures. Can you hurry the pictures along, Matilda?" he asked his wife impatiently. "The next couple will be here any moment."
So Veronica posed for several more pictures, holding her bouquet of red roses, smiling at the camera, smiling up at Logan, smiling until her jaw ached. By the time the papers were thrust at her, she was too distracted by Logan's nearness, and too frazzled by the memory of his brief kiss, to do anything but sign them all.
Two minutes later, they were leaving the room, sweeping by the next happy couple.
"Congratulations!" the next bride said to her, but Veronica could only nod.
They stood stock still in the hallway, and Veronica wondered how it was they'd never talked about what should come next.
"So I propose a walk on the beach followed by a wedding supper," Logan said finally.
"Not sure I want to walk on the beach in the dark in these shoes," she said, frowning down at the spike-heeled sandals she'd worn to make up the difference in their heights.
"Right! Forgot about it being December. So… dark out."
"Are you sure you were in the Navy?" she teased.
"Maybe a little… pre-occupied today," he said drily. "So… alternate plan. How about a couple of drinks in the lounge to celebrate Mac and Dick's marriage — which we…ahem… made possible. Followed by a wedding supper in the lovely hotel restaurant we've yet to see. And all, of course, on Dick's dime."
Veronica smiled up at him. "You said the magic words."
He grinned down at her. "Which ones?"
"Drinks? Food? Dick pays? Take your pick."
XXXXXXXXXX
The lounge was quiet when they got there, even though it was near enough to the cocktail hour. But it was the day before New Year's Eve, so Veronica figured maybe the revelers were gearing up to let loose the following night.
They found a table easily, a quiet one in the back of the room, and when they had their drinks in front of them — hers the highly-anticipated Cadillac Margarita, at last — Veronica was finally able to ask Logan a question she'd been holding back since they bumped into each other at the Honolulu airport.
"So… what do you think about this, Logan? This Mac/Dick thing? I mean, we just made it possible for them to get married, but was that really a good idea? Is a-a… tax break a good enough reason for a marriage? And should Dick even be getting married, considering his appalling track record with women?"
"Whoa, Veronica! At least let me try to answer one question before you ask six more."
She shrugged. "Sorry, I'm just worried about Mac, that's all."
"I can see that. But if ever there was a person who knows her own mind and is able to follow her own course, it's Mac. I'm pretty sure she went into this thing with her eyes wide open."
Veronica was skeptical. "But to agree to marry Dick? No matter what the reason?"
Logan sighed. "I know you've never liked Dick, and you had plenty of good reason. He was an asshole to you back in the day, and pretty much a jackass in general. I could only take him in small doses myself. But the thing is… he's not that kid anymore. He's the owner of a very successful business. And, yeah, he still acts like a clown sometimes, because that's pretty much his personality. But he's also one of the most loyal friends I've ever had. The one I can always count on if ever I need … anything. And if you think he's loyal to me, you can multiply that tenfold when it comes to Mac."
"Yeah, that's what Mac told me. That he'd changed. That I didn't really know him anymore. But, can someone who's basically six feet of pure horndog really change that much? All the women? And his attitude towards them?"
"Hey, when I was 17, I wasn't so different when it came to women. Dick and I… we didn't exactly have great role models for how to treat women. So then we had to learn. And he's had 13 years to figure it out."
"But he's bound to not honor this marriage," she insisted. "To chase around. I know Mac says she won't care, or that he doesn't have the time, but how much can she really know…"
Logan huffed a laugh. "I can pretty much guarantee that Mac doesn't know the single most important fact in all of this."
"And what's that?"
"That Dick is madly in love with her."
"What! Are you sure? Because I asked Mac outright if there was anything going on between them, and she said there wasn't."
"That doesn't mean he doesn't love her, it just means he hasn't said anything to her. I'm honestly not sure he realizes it himself, but it seems pretty clear to me because his attitudes about everything have changed drastically since she came into his life. You'd be amazed, Veronica, at how he can't shut up about her. Everything in his world centers around what Mac might think about it. And it's been that way for quite a while now."
"I just… find that so hard to believe. So then this… marriage-of-convenience thing?"
"I don't know. Maybe it was easier for him to jump at the chance of getting what he wanted by calling it a good business decision, than to admit his feelings and take the chance of being rejected." His eyes flickered away for an instant. "Because that can really suck."
Veronica felt her face heat as she considered whether he was still talking about Dick.
Logan shrugged. "So maybe just… keep an open mind about the marriage," he suggested. "And maybe even, if you can bring yourself to do it, try to get to know the grown-up Dick just a little."
Veronica's lips twisted into a rueful smile. "I suppose that's good advice."
Logan snorted. "What's this? You taking advice from me now, Mars?"
She laughed. "Shut up! Obviously I've had too much to drink. It must be time to get dinner."
Logan grinned. "Obviously."
Their conversation continued through dinner, but about nothing quite so heavy as the viability someone else's relationship. Mostly they talked about what they'd been doing, how their lives had changed, since they'd last seen each other.
Veronica teased him about choosing to write a detective story.
"I must have gotten the bug on all those stakeouts you took me on in high school," he insisted, eyes glinting.
"Right," she said drily. "If I recall, there was only one thing you were interested in doing on those stakeouts, and it wasn't detecting."
Logan chuckled, shaking his head at the memory of his 17-year-old self.
By the end of the meal, Veronica was certain she and Logan hadn't had that much lighthearted conversation in years. Maybe, she thought, it was because there was no pressure, no agenda. They were there together only by happenstance, to help out their best friends. She felt mellow and relaxed. Content.
Then she glanced at Logan over the top of her after-dinner limoncello to find him looking at her in a way that made her toes curl. The heat of his gaze set off coils of attraction within her the same way it always had.
But somehow, in that moment, she forgot to be wary
They left the restaurant soon after, but their conversation petered out as they rode the elevator up to their floor — as though maybe the time for talking was over. They entered the suite, and after the door clicked shut behind them, for one long moment they stared at one another in the semi-darkness, the room lit only by the moonlight that streamed in through the edges of the curtains.
And then Logan reached up and gently stroked his palm across her cheek.
"Veronica," he said softly.
Veronica shivered as his hand caressed her face, and she wanted desperately to stay in that moment forever. But instead, she drew in a shaky breath and forced herself to say, "I think I should go to bed."
Logan's hand dropped immediately. "Of course," he nodded. "You must be exhausted."
She fairly ran from him then, her body on fire but her mind in turmoil. She tore off her clothes and slid a nightshirt over her head, forgiving herself for skipping the teeth cleaning and the makeup removal, too intent on reaching the safety of her bed.
Veronica slid between the sheets, telling herself she just needed some rest, that she'd feel like herself again in the morning. But all she could think about as she tossed and turned was the feel of Logan's hand on her cheek and the look in his eyes when he'd said her name.
She had no idea how much time had passed by the time she finally gave up on trying to sleep. She threw off the bedclothes and headed for the living area, uncertain about exactly what she was going to do.
But it didn't matter once she opened the door and saw Logan sitting in a chair in the moonlight.
He turned when he heard the snick of the door.
''Veronica? Are you okay?"
And dammit, she wasn't okay! She wasn't okay at all. She was sick of the wanting, and the not having. So maybe, for once, she should just let herself have the thing she wanted so badly.
"No," she said, "I'm not okay. But… maybe I can be."
She crossed the room quickly and settled herself astride Logan's lap, gazing down into his eyes. At first, he didn't move, but when she reached up to caress his lips with her thumb, he inhaled sharply, and let his breath out slowly.
"Is this what you really want?" The question came out on a sigh.
"So much," she said. "I can't think about anything else."
And then she was kissing him passionately, and he was kissing her back, his arms pulling her impossibly close. She thrust her tongue into his mouth, sucking hard, and felt the wetness begin to trickle between her legs as she pleasured herself on his already-hardening cock.
Logan groaned. "Fuck, Veronica, we're not doing this in here."
He rose with her in his arms, and seconds later they were in his bedroom. He laid Veronica gently on the bed and began to tear at his clothing.
"Please," she moaned, desperate now. "I need you."
"Christ!" he said, his hands working feverishly at buttons and zippers.
Naked finally, Logan climbed onto the bed and dragged Veronica's panties down her legs, nearly ripping them in his haste, while she pulled the nightshirt over her head.
"You are so fucking sexy," he rasped, his voice laced with desire, his eyes moving hungrily over her body. He bent to take first one breast and then the other into his mouth, sucking strongly on her nipples.
Veronica felt her body respond, the slickness between her legs now coating her thighs.
She moaned. "I've dreamed about your mouth on my tits, Logan. About you licking and sucking me... everywhere. But right now, I really need you to fuck me."
"Is it… okay? Do I need a…"
"No! It's fine! Do it now."
Logan groaned, frantically pulling her legs around his torso, taking his cock in hand and thrusting into her in one heavy stroke. They moaned with it.
"Feels so damn good," Veronica said, more turned on than she could ever remember being.
"No one in the world feels like you do," Logan rasped as he moved rapidly in and out of her.
Veronica pulled him down for a kiss, thrusting her tongue into his mouth as they fucked. She pushed her body upwards, rubbing her hardened nipples against his chest, pressing her hips up to meet his every thrust until his body was hitting her clit just the way she wanted it.
"Oh, Christ, I can't get enough of fucking you but I'm never going to last," he moaned, his rhythm now erratic with need.
And suddenly Veronica was there, groaning, calling out his name as she came hard.
"Thank god," Logan said, allowing himself to spill inside her at last.
He fell onto the bed beside her, pulling her to him for a kiss.
"That was…"
"Yeah," she smiled at him, "it was."
And that was mostly, she knew, because it had been so long and because she loved him so damn much.
Before long, they were stroking and kissing again, unable to get enough of each other.
"I want to make love to you all night, Veronica," he whispered in her ear as he gently lifted her right leg and slid into her from behind.
Veronica moaned, and turned her head to kiss him hungrily, overwhelmed by his feel and touch and scent.
"Yes," she said. "Yes."
XXXXXXXXXX
Veronica awoke with a start into the faint light of a winter sunrise.
She was disoriented at first, but then she shifted on the bed, brushing up against Logan's long, heavy form, and her sluggish brain began to piece together where she was and who she was with. Still half-asleep, she slid out of bed and hurried the few steps to Logan's bathroom, quickly emptying her bladder.
She'd turned on the taps and was rubbing her hands under the stream of water when she noticed it glinting on her finger.
The wedding ring that she'd never taken off.
A fake ring for a fake wedding.
And that's when the full weight of what she'd done hit her, and it was a body blow that had her gasping for air and reeling against the countertop.
The ring was fake, the wedding had been fake, the whole day had been a pretense of things that didn't really exist. That ring didn't belong to her any more than the man in the next room belonged to her. Or ever could. No matter what had happened between them the night before.
Somehow, in the emotional spillage left over from exchanging those fake wedding vows with a man she couldn't seem to stop loving, Veronica had forgotten that after more than a decade of trying, they had never, ever been able to make it work.
So instead of remembering to guard against the certain hurt that seemed to follow them around like a curse, she'd thrown caution to the winds and indulged in a fantasy that she knew in her heart was just as fake as everything else that had happened that day.
Suddenly, all she could think about was getting away before the hurt completely overwhelmed her.
She padded back to the bedroom, quickly scooping her clothes from the floor, then slipped from the room, closing the door carefully behind her. Back in her own room, it didn't take her long to pack her things and throw on some clothes, so barely twenty minutes later Veronica was rolling her small case towards the door of the suite.
She already had her hands on the latch when she sighed, knowing she couldn't just leave like that without a word. Moving quickly, she found a pen and some paper in a table drawer and set about writing a farewell note.
But it was… impossible.
Impossible to explain how she felt or why she knew she had to go.
In the end, all she wrote was: Logan, I'm sorry. Please give the ring back to Dick. Veronica
The ring slid easily from her finger, and she dropped it onto the paper before resuming her exodus from the room.
By sheer good luck, Veronica got to the island airport just in time to make the 7:30 a.m. flight to Hawaii, and once in Honolulu, she uncomplainingly paid a large premium to change her ticket to an earlier flight back to San Diego.
By 8 p.m. she was opening the door of her apartment in Neptune, and by 8:05, she was lying across her bed, and the tears wouldn't seem to stop.
