AN I: Real Life is not my friend. I'm hoping I'm still yours. I don't own anything but the mistakes, I own ALL of those! Thank you so much for reading my work, if you're up to it I would love to hear what you have to say…
Veronica flew down the stairs, her breathing ragged and sharp, tears pooling in her eyes. Angrily she wiped the back of her hand across her face, smearing the tears into her skin. He had no right, thought Veronica, to ask me such questions. He was the one who called me, and he is the one who obviously needs help.
Not me…..I'm fine.
"I'm fine," repeated Veronica softly as she sighed and straightened her shoulders. One loud awkward sniff later and she was ready to open the door and get the pizza.
Except…..holy hell batman, Veronica was still encased in Logan's button down and nothing else. She jumped when the doorbell rang again, shrill and insistent. Logan was still upstairs, pouting. He obviously wasn't going to come answer the door, was probably laughing at her predicament right now. Although, in a dark little corner of her heart she didn't blame him for not wanting to answer the door wearing his Brad Pitt fight club costume.
Thinking fast, she whirled to the hall closet and wrenched open the door. Do rich snobby people even keep coats in coat closets, or are they just for decoration, completely functionless, she wondered.
"Just a minute," she called to the impatient pizza delivery guy.
Thankfully there was a tan trench coat shoved in the back, bedraggled and forgotten. Veronica shoved her arms through the sleeves and cinched the belt at the waist. The hem of the coat covered her feet.
Just go with it Mars.
With her fake it till you make it attitude firmly in place, Veronica opened the door. And was greeted by the sight of Dick and Beaver holding her pizza.
"What the hell," muttered Beaver as Dick looked Veronica up and down, the smirk on his lips implying all sorts of nefarious thoughts.
"Nice, Ronnie," his voice was every bit of surfer dude smashed into frat boy, coupled with the self-entitlement only being Neptune rich could give you. "Did Logan give you a pity fuck?" He snapped his fingers and smirked at Beaver, "The water polo team is out of town for a tournament right?"
"Yep," confirmed Beav, with a nasty little glint in his eye. "So's the majority of the football team."
"Which just leaves Logan, always knew my boy had the stamina to make us proud," remarked Dick. "And he claims to never donate to charity."
Veronica, normally so quick witted and defensive, was having trouble processing that Dick and Beaver were really standing on the front steps, holding her pizza nonetheless, and she was practically naked. Briefly she lifted her eyes heavenward, just kill me God now please, she thought. Her repressed tears from earlier threatened to fall again right as her stomach growled.
"Aww, Ronnie," spoke Dick, running one finger down her cheek, " did you work up an appetite." Both boys stepped over the threshold causing her to stumble back. "Hey Beav," threw Dick over his shoulder. "If Veronica is throwing out freebies, maybe she can hook you up next, cure that dry spell and all." Beaver flushed a deep red and didn't respond.
Veronica, however, had enough and spun on her heel to get away. She was too open, too fresh, and too vulnerable to protect herself. All she could think about was getting away. To do that she needed to get upstairs and get her purse complete with the required car keys. Screw waiting for her clothes, she just wanted out.
Warm hands grabbed her roughly and spun her around, backing her up non to gently against the wall. Dick leaned in close, invading her personal space. Veronica, screamed and shoved at Dick, small hands beating ineffectually against the surfer's toned body. Panic threatened to overwhelm her, shuddery non-memories of her assault crowded her with their questions and implications. She couldn't breathe, much less concentrate on his obscene mumblings against her ear.
"Ohh you're a feisty one huh, little blond hellcat. Betcha like it rough," he murmured. "What'cha have on under the coat? Were you role playing?" Dick slid one hand between the folds of the trench coat and up Veronica's exposed leg. The panic in Veronica's ears was so loud she barely heard Logan's indignant rage filled roar.
"What the hell are you doing?" Logan grabbed Dick and pulled him off of Veronica. He threw him down to the ground and stood glaring over him, chest still bruised, heaving with his exertion, his eyes dark and menacing. Beaver stood back, holding the pizza, unsure of what to do.
"What the hell, man," groused Dick from the floor. "We were just having some fun. Christ," Dick looked indignantly at Logan, as he climbed to his feet, "you fucked her, why can't I?"
Logan reared back and punched Dick hard and fast in the jaw. Dick went down like all the gravity in the room had just been outlawed, instantaneously.
"Don't talk to her, don't touch her, and don't think about her. Understood?"
"I don't understand," whined Dick. "One day you say she's out and we gotta hate her, then the next day you can be with her, but no one else. It's really hard being your evil henchman when I'm not in on the plan bro." Dick jerked his shoulder indicating Beaver, who was still trying to gauge Logan's reactions with wide eyes. "Not to mention the minion over there, he's even more confused than I am."
"Shut up, Dick," muttered Beaver without any real heat. He did relax his stance though, as Logan reached down to help Dick up.
"Look, what are you even doing here, and why are you holding my pizza?"
"Paid the guy on the way up, we're hungry man. Besides, I hadn't heard from you and I know…..you know. Shit," Dick shoved a hand through his hair. "This is verging into chick flick territory. I just wanted to make sure you were alright."
"Yeah," put in Beaver, "like if you needed anything."
"You know, cause sometimes you're not alright, man." Even though we never talk about it, thought Dick darkly.
Logan briefly shit his eyes, he'd forgotten his appearance. He'd heard Veronica scream and all rational thought had left his brain. The fear that Aaron had somehow come back home, that he was hurting Veronica, however unrealistic that was, sent Logan flying out of the room. Next thing he knew, he saw Dick pressed up against Ronnie, and she looked terrified. He'd seen red after that.
Lots and lots of red. Looks like fits of violent rage were genetic after all.
"I'm fine." Or not, but no one else needed to know that. Logan wasn't the son of two actors for nothing.
"Sure man," Dick was making his way to the kitchen, munching on a piece of pizza, the altercation already leaving his memory. "So why was the trailer trash here?" He looked at Logan out of the corner of his eye, "you weren't really doing her, were ya? Cause I guess, Beav and I can go; give you some privacy to finish slumming in peace."
Logan grimaced and tried to count to 10 in his head, I will not punch Dick again, I will not punch Dick again… "Dude, we were not sleeping together. We're having a truce of sorts right now so back the fuck off."
Beaver snorted, always glad to see someone put Dick in his place. Dick held up his hands, placating towards Logan. "Okay, loud and clear bro. Backing off. Can we get a drink and eat some pizza now?"
Logan sighed and shoved his hands through his hair again.
"Where is little Ronnikins anyway?" Dick's question hung awkwardly in the air as Logan spun around frantically searching for Veronica.
She wouldn't leave right? Wait, I want her to leave. He bit his lip hard enough to taste blood. She knows my secret, I want her to go. But Logan couldn't even lie to himself effectively. No, I really don't and I'm not gonna think about why that is right now. Logan forgot about the pain, as he forced his bruised and battered body upstairs, searching for Veronica. He entered his room half expecting to find her huddled on his bed, waiting. Complaining that she was hungry and that he better hurry up with the pizza.
But, his room was empty. She said she wouldn't bail, he reminded himself. But the room was empty and her purse was gone.
Slowly, dread deep in his bones, Logan walked with heavy steps over to the window. Veronica's car was gone. She must have slipped out the back while he was busy with Dick and Beaver. Logan's shoulders slumped dejectedly.
He didn't even want her here. This was a good thing.
So why did it hurt so shockingly bad, that even after swearing she wouldn't leave him, she did.
"Cause, everybody leaves Echolls. You ought to know that by now." He let the curtains fall back into place and turned to go downstairs. Might as well have a damn drink with Dick and Beaver.
What else was he supposed to do?
AN II: Wasn't quite sure where I was going with this, but Dick wouldn't stop talking. I've always liked Dick Jr even though he was a jerk in the beginning. I needed to get LoVe out of the house anyway, break out of the stalemate. Please read and review and tell me what you think. I'd love to hear your thoughts.