AN: Wow, it has been forever. Real life has been entirely rigid and unforgiving. Not to mention I had a case of writers block to end all writers block. This is the first thing I have written in months, I don't anything but the mistakes, of which I am sure there are many because grammar and I don't get along. Anyway, sorry for the long wait and I hope I managed to stay in character. I would love to hear any thoughts or constructive criticism you have. Thank you so much for taking the time to read my work.

Logan didn't want to wake up. He could tell from the intense pain radiating from his back that daddy dearest had struck again. He also took wobbly stock of the spinning room behind his closed eyelids and the dead animal taste in his mouth, to mean he would have one hell of a hangover to vie for first place on Logan's shit list of annoying discomforts.

What he could not reconcile as normal was the warm soft body he was currently curled against. It just didn't make sense. Logan always kept to himself after one of Aaron's apocalyptic rages; it was kind of hard to keep a secret if it was painted all over your body in angry reds and browns. While it wasn't entirely unusual for him to not remember events from the night before, he never woke up with his conquests.

Not since Lily had he actually slept with someone, fucked sure, but slept next to… never again.

Now he found himself in the awkward position of having to worry about keeping his secret and getting rid of the party favors. Reluctantly he opened his eyes and peered down at the soft blond hair draped over his chest and tickling his nose.

The smell of her shampoo was oddly familiar. And her body was petite. She might have been half draped over Logan's chest, but her feet never even came close to his. She made a soft sound and shifted in her sleep. The ball of mild irritant in Logan's stomach grew to a solid icy dread. He knew that voice.

What the hell was he doing in bed with Veronica Mars?

Logan bit the inside of his cheek, slammed his eyes shut, and tried to breathe calmly through his nose without sounding like a panting bull. His first instinct was to run but Logan tried to stifle his natural inclination to push her away and scramble off the bed. He needed a plan here. Obviously, somehow Veronica had found out his secret.

Veronica… the sarcastic champion of secret reveling… the girl detective. This was so not good.

Except, that it kind of was.

Her body was warm and soft, her hair like silk as it lay against his skin, the smooth texture the direct antithesis to the abraded skin of his back. Logan took a deep breath and let himself savor, just for a moment, the scent of muted vanilla mixing oddly enough with the scent of the detergent Rosa used.

Logan opened his eyes and lifted his head ever so slightly. Awww hell; was she wearing his shirt? Another glance reveled she was wearing only his shirt. He gulped. Well if that wasn't ten shades of awkward and sexy mixed into the snowball from hell.

Veronica shifted, murmuring in her sleep, stretching languidly, arching and rolling like a sun drenched kitten. Logan, panicked and awkward, fell back on a time honored childhood tradition; he quickly shut his eyes and played possum. Years of practice allowed him to keep his breathing deep and even, his muscles relaxed, while he remained alert listening for the slightest sound or movement.

It didn't take long.

Veronica always hated to wake up. She was not a morning person, preferring the nighttime hours to the disgustingly early and bright ones. So, she shifted, and she wiggled, and she snuggled down into the comfort of sleep, resisting waking as she always did. Until it slowly leaked into her consciousness that her bed was all hard planes and angles, and it was breathing.

With a shriek she opened her eyes, the events of the night prior, tumbling through her brain like a kaleidoscope of images. Logan, bleeding and bruised; his eyes sad and empty, the conflicting emotions of fear and old anger spurring her on as she had raced over to the Echolls estate bubbling up into her throat as she got her first good look at Logan. The sick churning in her gut as she realized Logan's well-guarded secret; that Aaron Echolls was a monster.

It took Veronica about three seconds to realize she was draped over Logan like a blanket. Jeez, how awkward was that. She had had no intention of sleeping over, let alone sleeping in Logan's bed with Logan. But when he'd needed her, pulling her into his arms for much needed comfort, she'd been helpless to resist. Veronica had planned on leaving once he'd fallen asleep, but somewhere between the warmth of his body and the shaky climb down from all the adrenaline coursing through her body, Veronica had fallen asleep.

She was loath to admit, it was the best sleep she'd gotten in months, not a single nightmare. But she'd rinse her mouth out with fire ants before she's ever admit to that; which leant her to the next hurdle; how to extricate herself without having to participate in any ensuing awkwardness with Logan.

Veronica really hoped Logan was still drunk enough that she could slide off of him without him even waking up. Not to run away, she sternly reminded herself, they still had to deal with the situation of Logan's battered and bruised body, covered in secrets and lies. But they didn't really have to be touching to do that, so…

Mustering her courage, Veronica slowly shifted her hips intending to slide discreetly to the side and maybe roll quietly and gracefully to the floor. She envisioned herself crab crawling to the bathroom, redressing in her clothes, and then waiting in silent support at Logan's desk for him to wake up. Maybe they could discuss things civilly for once. If not she'd just have to call Duncan or Dick.

What actually happened was a lot more mortifying.

Veronica didn't have that much experience with teenage boys; that she could remember anyway. But if you slide your hips like this, apparently his hips move like that…and oh my god was that what she thought it was poking her in the stomach? Forgetting all about her plan of sneaky ninja like stealth, Veronica screamed and flew backwards, landing in an ungraceful tangle of limbs, Logan's borrowed shirt up around her waist and hair in her eyes.

Shrieking in surprise again, Veronica tugged the shirt down, and lowered her head to her knees.

"Please tell me this is not happening," she mumbled.

"Love to Ronnie, but then I'd have to find a way to tell myself this didn't happen either, and I'm too hung over to expend my valuable energy bull shitting."

Logan shifted, groaning behind clenched teeth, as his skin pulled and muscles screamed. His stomach added to the cacophony of pain, complaining viciously with acid and nauseating rolls. His eyes stung and protested the sun streaming through his bed so vehemently Logan briefly wondered if he had been turned into a vampire last night. Maybe he was still drunk if thoughts like those were rolling around his head, course a vampire could totally kick Aaron's ass; yep, maybe still drunk. But not drunk enough to be numb…God he hurt.

He hung his head over the edge of the bed, intending on making a smart ass remark about Veronica and sex, the football team maybe, he had a huge repertoire to choose from. He needed a distraction and he wasn't about to apologize for his body's natural reaction to a warm female body in bed with him. Hell, after the extensive lesson Aaron had given him in pain and domination, Logan was glad his body could feel any pleasurable sensation. Even if it was awkward as hell with his mortal enemy siting on his floor, surprisingly sexy in his shirt, and blushing a shade reminiscent of the way his blood had looked swirling down the shower drain last night.

The shower….why did he remember the shower….did he shower with Veronica Mars? This whole situation just kept getting weirder and weirder. Maybe he was still asleep, except the best thing about sleeping was he couldn't feel the pain. So definitely awake then…

"You wanna tell me what happened last night," Logan asked seeing no other way to climb out of the stalemate they seemed to have fallen into then to just ask directly. He meant it when he had stated earlier he was just too tired for bullshit.

Veronica lifted her head from her knees and finally met Logan's gaze. "You called me, remember?" she prompted.

"Not really," he answered truthfully. He looked at the empty bottle lying half-hazardly in the corner. "But I guess I was pretty messed up."

"Yeah, you were. Speaking of…what are we going to do about that?"

Logan glanced sharply at Veronica, his neck snapping as quickly as his wounded body would allow, from where he has been studying the empty space above her shoulder. Fuck…that was pity in her big blue eyes. Well fuck that shit and the horse it rode in on cause one thing Logan didn't do was pity. He needed to get their integral dynamic back on track, mortal enemies, constant derision…Jesus, anything but pity.

Gritting his teeth, Logan pushed himself up all the way from the bed, shoving down his involuntary wince of pain.

"So I know how desperate you are, and how pathetically you stalk Duncan, but Ver-Ronica, could you please wait until I've had breakfast before you launch your stanktastic campaign for my affections."

Veronica's mouth dropped open in shock. "Seriously, you ass! You called me; you were threatening to end it all over the phone. When I got here you were laying in a puddle of your own blood."

Suddenly too tired to fight anymore, Logan flopped back down on the bed. "Just go away Veronica. It is what it is, you knowing's not going to change a damn thing, unless maybe make it worse."

"No."

"What," asked Logan, still staring at the ceiling?

"No, I'm not going to let you push me away. There's been enough of that already." Veronica stood up, forgetting she was still in Logan's tee-shirt; her earlier embarrassment washed away by her need to take away the bitter defeated look currently gracing Logan's pained features. She sat next to Logan on the bed, one leg tucked under, her slim knee making skin to skin contact against Logan's black and blue torso.

"No, Logan, I'm not going to leave you. We used to be really good friends once and even with everything that has happened, I'm not going to stand by and let you be hurt."

And there it was, Veronica's pit bull complex rearing its ugly head, thought Logan. He didn't acknowledge her apparently heartfelt yet unrealistic speech. Instead he just closed his eyes and tried to ignore the push of suppressed tears behind his aching lids.

When she slipped her hand in his, Logan refused to acknowledge her. But he didn't push her away either.

Taking it as the silent sigh she hoped it was, Veronica slid all the way down on the bed. This time it was she who wound herself around Logan. She shut her eyes too. She could give him this time to compose himself, draw from her quiet strength. Because when he was steadier, it was game on Aaron Echolls. And Veronica didn't remember how to lose.

AN II: Please, please, please review. I am begging, apparently I have no shame. In all seriousness though, thanks so much for reading. I really appreciate it!