Title: For the Sins of Others
Author: StarCrossdSparrow
Pairing/Characters: Logan/Veronica, ensemble
Rating: PG-13
Chapter: 2/4
Word Count: 4,193
Disclaimer: RT is the master of all things Veronica Mars. I'll put everyone back when I'm done, so please don't sue.
Spoilers: 1.22 "Leave it to Beaver"
Summary: AU from the events of 1.05 "You Think You Know Somebody." Veronica asks Logan for the details of the Tijuana trip and snark ensues.
Author's Note: If you hate when authors butcher canon for their own personal gain, don't read this, 'cause I've been cleaning my knife for weeks. BIG thanks to LJ user erin2326 for putting up with me and for her marvelous beta skills.
XxXxXxX
He didn't catch up to Veronica until after school the following day. He spotted her in the parking lot, talking to Meg Manning. As soon as Meg walked away, Duncan showed up at Veronica's car. Logan hung back, pulling himself out of sight and feeling for ridiculous for doing so. What did he care if Veronica or Duncan saw him? It wasn't like he was watching them... until he peered around the bulletin stand at the entrance to the lot to casually observe them, that is.
He watched as Veronica smiled... no, beamed up at something Duncan said. Duncan laughed, something he so rarely did lately, and Veronica shoved him playfully. Logan had to hold onto the eye roll for later.
As soon as the Donut had shoved off, Logan made a beeline for her car. A casual beeline. He didn't really care if she drove away before he could file his report. He caught up to her as she was turning the ignition.
Leaning down on her driver's side door, he waited for her to turn her head to the left to check for oncoming traffic. When she did, her body jolted in surprise. He did love surprising Veronica Mars.
"Logan. Fuck. What are you doing?" Veronica immediately put her mouth into bitch gear and Logan stood, using his height to intimidate her. Not that she was easy ruffled. And, of course, the curse she'd uttered had done things to his psyche that three years of her pigtails and pep squad outfit had only begun.
He swallowed and looked down at her. "I've come to give you the dish on Bay."
Veronica quirked an eyebrow. "Unless you want to do this while I paint your toenails, call it 'dirt,' not dish."
Logan used his saved-up eye roll and spread his hands in front of him. "I don't have a fancy file folder or any eight-by-ten glossies for you, but I did find out some stuff. So, if you want it, you'll have to ask politely."
Veronica made a rude noise and sat back in her seat. "Look, Echolls, I've got places to be-"
"People to do."
"Oh, good one. Where'd you get it? The Adolescent Boy's Big Book of Snappy Retorts, 1957 edition?"
"I only speak the truth."
"What's that? Moulin Rouge? When did you become such a woman?"
"When your balls dropped."
Veronica fumed for a moment before pressing on. "I have an appointment to get to. So, Bay?"
Logan ignored the easy jibe that sprung to mind up about her clients on Liberty and Walnut and went on with what she'd asked for. "His firm, Bay and Buchanan... I know, it's weird, huh? Well, they also work for Kane Software."
Veronica shot him a withering glare. "I found that out from a simple Planet Zowie search. Is there anything a fifth grader with Internet access couldn't have gotten me?"
"You know, Ronnie, you're one of the few chicks in the world who aren't hot when they're pissed. You sort of get this nasty little crease around your mouth."
Veronica rolled her eyes skyward and started the LeBaron. It sputtered. She cranked it again. It roared, coughed, and died. Another twist of the key yielded nothing.
Logan folded his arms and smirked, quirking his eyebrows. "Need a jump?"
She checked her wristwatch. "Fuck."
Logan closed his eyes and shifted uncomfortably. That damn word again.
"I'm going to be late." Veronica slammed her palm into her steering wheel and laid her head back against the head rest.
"Better late than pregnant," Logan muttered, trying desperately not to admire the view she was giving of her throat, pulled taut and inviting. Her throat was turning him on? He was obviously in a serious drought that needed remedied, and quickly, too.
"Huh?" Veronica asked, eying him, her head cocked to one side.
"You need a ride or something?" The words were out his mouth before he could hold them in.
Veronica thought a moment before shaking her head too vigorously. "No. It's far and I've-"
"Can you miss the appointment?"
Veronica shook her head to indicate the negative. "But, I could reschedule-"
"Just come on. I'm free for awhile." He waved his hand to indicate the foreseeable future.
Veronica swallowed and got out of the car, hefting a lumpy bag along behind her. "I'm, uh, going to have to change when we get there. Are you sure? This is a stupid idea. I'll just call-"
"Just come on before I turn my service light back on." He headed toward the Xterra, leaving her to choose whether or not to follow. This was stupid. He'd be stuck in his vehicle with Veronica for God only knew how long and he'd developed a problem that needed tending. And now she needed to change? He hoped she could do so wherever they were headed because if she planned on being anywhere near naked in his truck... well, he wouldn't go there. Not until he was home and safely ensconced in his shower.
"Certainly the right color for a cab," she quipped as she fastened her seatbelt.
"The color is called solar yellow," came his quick riposte as the engine turned over smoothly. Why did he always have to defend his truck?
"Whatever. I prefer 'jackass yellow.' But, if you want to compare it to the sun, which incidentally, is going to implode and suck the Earth into it one day, be my guest."
Logan grumbled an unkind response and pulled out of the lot. "Where are we going, anyway? Do I need to get gas? Freeze dried ham and bottled water?"
Veronica's mouth quirked into an involuntary grin that just as quickly disappeared. "The prison."
Logan headed for the freeway. "Might I inquire as to why? Checking out your new digs, perhaps?"
"I have an appointment. About a case."
Logan nodded, knowing she wouldn't give up any more from the firm set of her jaw. That gesture, or really, lack thereof, was a hold over from as long as he'd known her. Even when Lilly had pushed and pushed her, when Veronica made her resolve face, Lilly knew when to stop.
"What, no interrogation? No wry musings about why my dad would let me go to a prison alone? No dropped soap? Nothing?"
Logan shrugged. He was certainly off his game today. So, he went back to safe... well, safer ground. "I did found out something about Karen Bay."
Veronica turned toward him, her interest piqued.
"Apparently, Mrs. Bay used to be a call girl. A pretty high priced one."
"How did you find that out."
"Google."
Veronica looked let down. "But why would that be on the Internet? Wouldn't she want to get away from her seedy past?"
Logan shrugged, executing a close lane change that he was glad Veronica hadn't noticed. "Well, it took some digging. She wasn't going by Bay then. It seems she started out playing Wonder Woman at Universal before college. Then, she went pro, I guess. Human interest and all that, someone spilled it in a blog. I just figured out her maiden name from her sorority's alumni listing online."
Veronica's eyebrows lifted. "Alright, Echolls. We'll make you a gumshoe yet."
Logan didn't miss the note of pride... or was it awe in her voice? He didn't analyze it. "When do I get my badge?"
"As soon as you learn how to use the magnifying glass and to dust for prints."
Logan held back a chuckle as they made their way through several security checkpoints on the way to the prison. Logan played along when Veronica introduced herself as Ellen White in a charming Southern drawl, offering identification to match her pseudonym. Logan's identification proved him to be Carl Jenkins, age 23, of Gila Bend, Arizona.
When they pulled into the deserted lot outside of the cell block which housed the total of the male death row inmates in California, Veronica turned to him. "Carl Jenkins?"
Logan shrugged. "Fakes are easy to come by in TJ. Look, it even has the hologram." He turned the card in the sunlight. "Plus, I didn't want the stigma of the Echolls family crest ruining your Sydney Bristow moment."
Veronica quirked an eyebrow and then shifted her gaze toward the dash board. "Well, Carl, think you could take a quick stroll while I change?"
Logan opened his mouth. He wanted to say that there was no way in hell he was leaving and that she could just hop in the back and pull a Baby Houseman. But, for one thing, it would completely emasculate him, having referenced both Moulin Rouge and Dirty Dancing in one conversation. And, for another, the words simply would not form. Instead, he mumbled his assent and got out to stretch his legs.
When he'd made his third trek down a high cement wall toward the prison, he was just starting to notice a watchtower guard eying him suspiciously. Or, at least, he thought there was suspicion in the man's (woman's?) glare. It was hard to gauge emotion at two hundred yards. So he was relieved to hear the door to his Xterra open. When he turned toward the sound, he eyes popped, agog at the sight of the girl that climbed down from his back seat.
Veronica was wearing a clingy black sweater that dipped dangerously low into her décolletage and a black and white plaid skirt that fell scandalously short of her knees. Even though his cock was jumping through invisible hoops behind the denim of jeans, he still felt and urge to throw a coat over her. She looked awfully exposed, standing in the barren grey wasteland that was the parking lot. When Logan remembered that A, she was his sworn enemy and B, she was going into the prison to face a death row inmate, he pulled his sleeves down, desperate to keep his hands out of his hair, and walked towards her.
"Did you join the twisted USO or are you providing a conjugal visit for your pen pal?" he called when he thought he'd rid himself of the quaver in his voice. He hadn't, but she didn't notice.
She worried her lower lip and smoothed her skirt down before smiling graciously at him. "No," she drawled, "but Miss Ellen White has a few questions she'd like to ask some of the kind prisoners so down on their luck."
Logan quirked an eyebrow and merely nodded, trying not let his eyes wander her body. She turned and started toward the abysmal building. Logan couldn't help but call after her, "You be careful, now, Miss Ellie!"
She turned and nodded with a sly grin.
As she disappeared through doors into the prison, Logan climbed back into the truck. The truck where, only moments ago, Veronica had been naked in his backseat. He looked in the rear view mirror as if, by some magic, she'd be there, beckoning for him to join her. She wasn't of course, and Logan let his head fall into the steering wheel. It didn't matter how much he couldn't stand her know-it-all smile or her too-quick answers, she was still as sexy as she'd even been. Sexier, in fact. Logan bounced his head off of the steering wheel once before leaning back into the headrest.
Fidgety and tense, with a hard on that would not quit no matter how much he pictured Judi Dench's pinched face (she was James Bond's M. Bond was a spy. Sort of like Veronica. Damn!) or baseball stats (what would first base with Veronica taste like? Second base? Oh Lord, third?) When imagining home plate seemed akin to mental masturbation, he focused on nothing, especially not the place where his brain cells were no longer reacting to his command and his erection was doing the thinking. Soon, with thought entirely out of his control, he was part of a so-real-he-could-almost-smell-her fantasy involving blonde pigtails and short plaid skirts.
Then the door snicked open and the the plaid skirt herself was standing before him, looking wan. His lust died immediately as she climbed in, her jaw trembling in a way that made him ache in other places.
"Veronica? What is it? Did something happen? Did one of them... oh God," he had his door open and one foot on the running board before her felt Veronica's hand on his arm.
The color left in her cheeks from the chilly breeze was wearing off, making her look even more grey. Logan swallowed hard and looked at her small hand on his sleeve.
She eased it away and studied the console separating them. Her voice was hardly above a whisper when she spoke. "No. Nothing like that. Just go, Logan. We need to go."
"But, I..." he trailed off and looked back at the prison before meeting her eyes once more. The steel that usually spat his own image back to him was quickly washing over with unshed tears. He pulled himself back into the driver's seat and made haste toward the freeway.
She remained silent, but every time he ventured a glance in her direction, he saw her gulp down a breath or clench her jaw. She was sure doing her best to hang on to those tears.
They'd just hit interstate 5 when Veronica spoke again. "Logan. Pull over."
Without so much as thinking, he jerked the steering wheel to the right and bounced unceremoniously over the rumble strip and onto the shoulder. Veronica threw her door open, leaned out, and retched onto the gravel. Logan winced as she continued to gag. She was still strapped into her seatbelt, so he gently disengaged it so she could lean out farther. He dug up a worn travel package of Kleenex from the center console and had them at the ready for when she stopped.
After several agonizing minutes, she finally sat back up. Some of the color was back in her cheeks, but that was probably because of the way she'd been hanging out of his truck. Logan passed the Kleenex to her and she took them without a word.
After a long moment, Veronica's lower lip started to tremble and her face contorted into a mask of misery. She crumbled in front of him, tears spilling over, leaving her lashes spiky and dark against her pale skin. She cried soundlessly, but Logan could see that she was shaking, and he couldn't take it. He reached across the console and she collapsed into his arms, limp and wracked with quiet sobs. He stroked her back and pressed his cheek against the top of her head. He tried not to think about how naturally she fit into the press of his arms.
When her tears subsided, he let her go. She sat back against the seat and wiped her cheeks with the remaining tissues. That done, she closed her door.
Logan watched her as she buckled her seat belt, her jaw tightening even under her ruddy cheeks. She settled back and looked straight ahead.
"Veronica, what did you find in there?"
He saw her swallow hard and did not expect an answer.
"Abel Koontz."
The name was almost whispered, but Logan heard it loud and clear.
"I should have known. Lilly's murderer. What in the hell did you go to him for?" He tried to keep the anger and accusation from his voice, but didn't quite succeed.
Veronica seemed emboldened by his reaction. She sat forward and withdrew a photograph for his perusal. The glossy print captured a footstool and pile of clothing.
"Is this an art piece? Because I think you might really have something here," he deadpanned.
Veronica laid another photograph on top of the one in Logan's hand. This was an enlargement of a pair of shoes.
"Let me guess. Your theme is 'How Crap on the Floor Reflects Life'?"
"Those shoes. Those were the shoes that were supposedly found on Koontz's houseboat." She lifted the second photograph and pointed out the same shoe poking out from under the pile of clothing. "But this photo is a crime scene photo."
Logan leveled his gaze at her, mentally assembling the pieces. "So, unless Koontz went back for souvenirs..."
Veronica nodded. "Right."
Logan shook his head and stared at the picture. It had been taken in Lilly's room. He couldn't even tell. But, he remembered those shoes. He remembered Veronica kneeling before Lilly and him, as if she were some supplicant to their throne. He handed the picture back, a sick feeling blossoming at the pit of his stomach. Lilly's murderer was still out there. And an innocent man was in jail.
He swallowed hard, trying to dispel his own urge to vomit on the side of the highway. When he felt eyes on him, he turned to face Veronica once more. Gone was the ashen pallor, replaced with an enticing mixture of concern (for him?) and excitement (also for him?).
"This is a big deal, but if you already knew the answers, why did you go to see him?"
"Because I had to. He just excused his attorney. He's dying, Logan. He probably won't make it to his execution."
"What's wrong with him?" Logan couldn't help but ask. He suddenly needed to know everything the blonde in his passenger seat knew. Which, though he was loathe to admit it, was a hell of a lot more than he'd given her credit for.
"Cancer. He was diagnosed weeks before Lilly's..." Veronica swallowed hard. Logan nodded, waiting for her to continue. "And, one last little hot tip? He shared a doctor with the Kanes."
Logan's eyes grew wide as he digested the information. That might mean that the Kanes knew that Koontz was already knocking on heaven's door and had set him up for Lilly's murder. Why, though? Who could they be covering for? Bile rose in his throat as the day he'd seen Duncan choking Mr. Kane came into sharp focus. He closed his eyes tight once more, willing the image away, before he looked back to Veronica.
"That still doesn't explain your reaction. You knew he had cancer. There's something you're not telling me." His tone was softened by concern, but that didn't make it any less angry. He wasn't even sure if he was angry at Veronica for holding back or at her for uncovering the truth. He'd felt much better knowing someone was in jail for what had happened.
Veronica only shook her head and gestured blandly. "I just wasn't entirely prepared."
Logan stayed silent, searching her face. She wouldn't quite meet his eyes, but that wasn't entirely unlike her. At least, it wasn't unlike the old Veronica.
She checked her watch and looked pointedly back to him. "We should go. It's going to be ten o'clock by the time we get home." She withdrew her Sidekick from her bag and started typing away, obviously intent on not looking at him.
Logan took a deep breath, used to dealing with being shut out. At least it was something he could cope with. "Whatever you say, Chief." He turned the engine over and pulled into the thinned-out traffic.
XxXxXxX
He wasn't sure if she was avoiding him or if he was avoiding her, but he guessed it didn't much matter as the end result was the same. He didn't see her again until lunchtime the following day.
He felt the familiar prickle of eyes on his neck, and he swung around to see Veronica staring at him. No, not at him. At Duncan. Her stare had an odd quality to it. It wasn't the normal cow-eyed look of longing that she usually reserved for his best friend when she thought no one could see her. Instead, her gaze was a mix of confusion and a little disgust. He lifted an eyebrow as she caught his eyes. And just because it seemed like a fine idea, he stood up and approached her.
"What do you want?" she hissed as soon as he'd dropped into the seat across from her.
"Well, that's a fine way to greet your chauffeur. Taking lessons from Friedrich?"
Veronica rolled her eyes skyward as if in prayer. The sight was breathtaking. From her pin-straight blonde hair shining in the mid-afternoon sun down to her lips hiding a ghost of a smile, she looked almost heaven-sent. Veronica Mars, an angel. Logan held back a laugh.
"Now, Logan, don't go acting all modest. You know all I learned about how to treat the help, I learned from you."
Logan smirked, not even bothering to offer defense. After a beat, he got to the point of his visit. "You're really letting your guard down lately, Ronnie Cakes. Saw you checking the Donut out. You looked like you were going to throw up again. Maybe I should check you into the hospital? Anorexia doesn't suit you; you're much more an OCD kind of girl."
Veronica snorted indelicately. "As if you really know what kind of girl I am. "
Logan continued soberly, "Look, Veronica, I know what you're thinking." She snickered again, but Logan pressed on. "Duncan couldn't have done it." He ran his hand through his hair and avoided her gaze. "God knows that since you dropped that bombshell yesterday, I've thought about it. And I just know he wouldn't have it in him."
Veronica smiled sadly. "I've been circling around a lot of things, and I've beat myself up so much for it, but I don't know..." Logan opened his mouth to cut in, but she went on. "It's terrible to think it. I'd never dream of accusing anyone until I was sure."
Logan didn't take the obvious leap to compare her to her father, and Veronica's face registered mild surprise. She continued, "Did you know your mom hired my dad to investigate your dad's stalker?"
Logan shook his head, "No, but I saw the pumpkin. Pretty interesting. At least this girl's crafty."
Veronica raised her eyebrows, going into full investigatory mode. "What makes you so sure the stalker is a she?"
"Cool it there, Rockford, I'm just a good guesser. Plus, guys don't normally go to those lengths. Too subtle."
"You're calling a pumpkin carved with your dad's face and dripping fake blood from a Ginsu knife subtle? Do you even know what the word means?"
Logan rolled his eyes. "I just mean that it took time and planning. Guy stalkers usually break in and steal things, not leave gifts behind."
Veronica studied him skeptically before pressing on, "Well, thanks for the edifying glance into the mind of a stalker. It'll sure come in handy the next time I have one."
The bell cut across Logan's response and Veronica stood, leaving him abruptly.
As he started toward the building, Duncan caught up to him.
"Should I even bother asking what that was all about?"
Logan glanced at his friend. "What?"
Duncan lifted an eyebrow, and nodded toward the table Logan had just vacated. "That. You and Veronica."
Logan shrugged, noncommittally. "I don't know, DK. What did it look like? Two people talking?"
"Why do you have to torment her?"
Logan stopped in his tracks. "What makes you think I was tormenting her? She needed a ride somewhere yesterday, and being the gentleman I am, I helped her out. I was just asking if her car was fixed."
Duncan's eyes widened in surprise. "You? You helped her? " After a beat, he continued on, "What's your endgame, Echolls?"
"Are we really having this conversation? Why don't you just tell me not to talk to her, since that's obviously what you want, all right?"
His friend remained silent and Logan started walking again. Duncan caught up and kept pace.
"It's cool, man. I was just surprised, you know. Things haven't been good between you two since Lilly's... accident."
Accident. There's a euphemism.
"Yeah. Well, it was just a ride and a follow-up. So, you can quit worrying. I can still return the engagement ring since I obviously won't have you as a best man."
Duncan laughed after a beat and Logan smiled. He knew it was forced, but at least Duncan would lay off.
"You still coming over for poker tonight?"
Duncan nodded and they pounded fists before heading in opposite directions.
XxXxXxX
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