Chapter 5: Logan

Logan clenched his jaw, willing his wildly beating heart to calm and the churning in his stomach to stop. He'd known he would have to face her eventually, but Goddamn did it have to be his second night back?

The sun had just begun to set by the time Logan pulled into the Neptune Grande the night before. He'd driven straight through, more than 500 miles, stopping only for gas, and he'd been bone weary when he pushed open the door to his suite. "Hey dude, welcome home," Dick had greeted him. His friend had been genuinely happy to see him, and it eased Logan's apprehension about returning to Neptune.

After he unpacked, they'd ended up playing Gears of War and in between bloody battles Dick had filled him in on what he'd missed over the summer. Dick was babbling something about bones and a scandal at Hearst, when Logan finally gave in to the exhaustion, passing out on the couch.

In the morning, they'd headed to the beach where they spent the day surfing in the briny waters of the Pacific Ocean. But even after a full day of sun and fun, Logan had been strangely restless, and he'd quickly agreed when Dick suggested a party in their old neighborhood.

Now, Logan cursed his luck. What the hell was she doing here, anyway? Since when was she into '09er parties? He'd been dreading their little reunion ever since Cliff beckoned him home to sign papers. Logan wasn't so foolish to think a month or two hiding out in a lake house would be enough to cure him of Veronica. He still loved her, and he'd known seeing her would hurt like hell. But seeing her laughing with that Pizzlestick doofus made him want to smash something into a cement wall – preferably Piz's shaggy head.

He had the urge to get in his truck and drive far, far away. But Logan Echolls was never one to run from confrontation. And I'm not about to be scared off by some short, blonde chick and her goofy, radio deejay from Beaverton. Instead, he grabbed the drink in Dick's hand, downing the double-shot of amber-colored liquid in one gulp. He was reaching for a bottle of beer when he heard her voice behind him.

"Hey."

Logan braced himself with one, long swallow of beer, then turned to face the girl who'd so thoroughly ripped his heart out. Her hair was longer than he remembered, and danced over her shoulders in graceful waves, a few stray locks framing her slightly flushed face. A hesitant smile wavered on her lips.

"Gee. Whaddya know. It's Veronica Mars," Logan said grimly.

"Logan…"

"Scram."

He took another gulp of his drink and started to turn away, but Veronica's irritated sigh brought him to a halt. It was a sound he'd heard so many times before, he knew what it signaled. Sure enough, there was the familiar headshake. Logan was surprised, however, to see that instead of her usual disdainful eye-roll, Veronica's gaze was downcast.

"I see you've reverted to jackass mode."

"Yeah, well lucky for me I'm done needing favors from you."

"Logan … You didn't return any of my calls. I – I've been worried about you"

It was Logan's turn to sigh irritably. "I'm fine. But I'm not your problem anymore, Veronica, so you can stop worrying about me."

She looked away, and Logan was startled to see what he thought was a glistening in her eyes. Softly, she said, "When did you get back?"

"Last night."

Veronica took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. "We need to talk, Logan."

"Why? What's to talk about?" Logan replied wearily.

"It's not what you think. Something happened while you were gone … is it alright if I come by your place?"

Logan resented the concern her words wrought in him, even as he opened his mouth to ask if everything was okay. But something behind Veronica caught his eye. He glanced past her to see the perpetually disheveled Piz hovering nearby, and his eyes hardened.

The music and laughter blared around him and he bent his head to lean closer to Veronica, jerking his chin towards Piz. "You're boyfriend's waiting. You should probably get going. You wouldn't want to make him jealous, or anything," he said in a low, dull voice.

Confusion clouded Veronica's eyes and she twisted, looking over her shoulder to catch of glimpse of Piz as he leaned against a corner wall, hands shoved in his pockets. "Logan, Piz isn't…"

Logan didn't bother to answer Veronica's question as he turned and walked away, disappearing into the crowd.

Unwilling to spend another minute under the same roof as Veronica and Piz, Logan ditched the party and took a cab back to the Grande. But instead of going up to his suite, Logan walked to the corner liquor store and bought a bottle of Patron. He spent the next several hours sitting on the darkened beach, tossing back the tequila and listening to the violent push-and-pull of the waves that perfectly matched his black mood.

When Logan staggered into his hotel suite in the wee hours of the morning, he was greeted with a surprise straight out of a porn flick. Dick was lip-locked with an older, dark-haired woman who was shoved up against the door to his room, blouse gaping.

"Um, hi?" Logan said, silently giving thanks Dick was at least wearing boxer shorts.

They jumped apart, the woman yanking the lapels of her blouse closed as she fumbled to cover herself.

"Oh, hey, Logan. I guess this is kinda awkward, huh?" Dick said. But the cocky grin on his face told Logan that his friend couldn't care less. "Allow me to introduce you. Logan, this is Heather. Heather, my roomie, Logan."

"Nice to meet you, Logan." Heather looked to be in her late 30s, with straight, chestnut brown hair cut just above her shoulders and large, doe-like eyes. She reminded Logan of an older, classier Kendall Casablancas and, while he shuddered at what Freud would make of the a scenario, he couldn't blame Dick for being attracted to her.

Heather peered at him closely and said, "Logan…Logan Echolls? Aaron's son?"

"Yeah," he bit out, stiffening and nodding curtly.

She continued staring at him, almost transfixed, then shook her head. "Sorry. It's just – I can't get over how much you look like your dad. You're the spitting image of him when he was your age."

Dick broke in, sensing Logan's discomfort. "Heather is a TV producer and does a lot of casting for shows, so she knows faces."

"Speaking of which, I've got to run. I have an early morning meeting tomorrow." She finished buttoning her blouse and after she slipped on a pair of pointy heels, kissed Dick on the cheek before rushing out the door.

Once they were alone, Dick turned to Logan. "Hey, what happened tonight, dude? You disappeared on me."

"Yeah, sorry about that. Veronica was there and I didn't exactly want to stick around."

Dick shook his head. "Man, Ronnie sure did a number on you. Well, did you at least hook up with someone? 'Cause you really need to work out some of that tension, if you know what I mean. If you don't loosen up a little, pretty soon you're gonna turn into Duncan."

"Um, I think you did enough loosening up for the both of us tonight. How old is she?"

"I dunno. Like I care. She's recently divorced and hitting her sexual peak. I think I just hit on a whole new, untapped source of available, horny women."

Logan laughed. "That's what I like about you, Dick. You never change," he said, heading into his room. "I'm gonna crash. I'm pretty wasted."

He shed his shirt and jeans, leaving them where they fell on the floor, and collapsed onto his bed. Within moments, Logan was in a deep sleep, and didn't stir until the next morning when he woke to an insistent pounding on the door.