Author's Note: Apologies for the lack of update on Wednesday - I was out in the field from Tuesday to Friday last week and couldn't update the story, but I've decided to post the new chapter today instead :).

Chapter Three

It's three days before she works up the courage to ask him.

Logan finishes his shift at the base early Monday afternoon and since Veronica has to work late, instead of going back to the apartment, he comes by the office to see her, armed with take-out from Mama Leone's.

"Man, that was good," Logan proclaims, pushing his empty plate further onto her desk and leaning back in his chair, fingers linked across his stomach. "Six months without Mama Leone's was way too long."

Veronica frowns slightly. "Haven't you been living all over the place? As in nowhere near Mama Leone's?"

Logan shrugs. "Well, yeah, but I've spent more time in Neptune over the last year or two. I got used to it again"

Veronica puts down her fork and settles back in her own chair on the other side of the desk. She studies Logan for a moment, before taking the plunge.

"So, uh, this Penny girl…"

He nods, his eyebrows rising.

"Ah, I was wondering when you were gonna ask me about her," he says. "In fact, I'm surprised it took you this long."

"I was trying to be adult and mature," she admits. "I didn't want to pry."

Logan smirks. "The curiosity must have been killing you."

"No," she denies quickly, then amends, "Well, maybe… just a little."

"What do you want to know?"

She shrugs, feigning nonchalance. "Whatever you want to tell me."

Logan sits up, leans forward a perceptive smile on his lips. "Come on, Veronica, you can do better than that." He gestures with his hands. "Hit me."

She sighs. "Okay, fine. How long were you together?"

Logan's eyes flick to the ceiling as he thinks. "'Bout a year, give or take. I was in Texas for 18 months, we met a few months in, broke up a few weeks before I was assigned to Lemoore."

"Did—" She struggles with the next part. "Did you love her?"

He looks at her seriously for a moment, as if trying to gauge her reaction. She keeps her expression as stoic as she can, even though her heart is racing.

"I thought maybe I could, eventually," he says. "She was fun, didn't take life too seriously. It was nice, uncomplicated. Until it wasn't."

"What happened?" She should probably leave it alone; maybe she doesn't even want to know, but the question just slips out.

Logan sighs, slumping back in the chair again as he rubs the back of his neck. "She had more baggage than she let on."

"Baggage, as in…?"

"As in an ex-husband who wasn't as 'ex' as she'd led me to believe," he admits. "She told me they were divorced, but apparently it was more of a 'trial separation' thing. After almost a year together, he looked her up, and she left me, went running back to him."

"Shit, Logan." Veronica leans forward, resting her elbows on the desk, as she says sincerely, "I'm sorry."

"Yeah, well… it's in the past. I moved on."

"Still…that was a shitty thing to do."

"Yeah." He shrugs. "Guess it was."

She gets up, makes her way around the desk and perches on the edge, sitting in front of him. Logan sits up, shifts his chair forward so he can rest his hands on her waist. She reaches out, runs her fingers through his short hair.

"Hey," he murmurs, looking up at her, "you don't happen to have any husbands—ex or otherwise—out there, do you?"

She smiles, shakes her head. "No, I do not."

"Good."

He rises from the chair, one hand moving from her waist and cupping the back of her neck as he pulls her into a kiss, while the other hands drifts down, curving around her bottom. She's about to deepen the kiss when a knock on the door pulls her out of her Logan-induced haze. She looks up to find an awkward-looking Weevil standing in the office doorway.

"Hey, V." His eyes flick to Logan and he nods. "Opie."

"Weevs," Logan returns with a tight smile.

"Uh, your pops in? I gotta talk to him about my case."

Veronica shakes her head. "Sorry, Weevil, he left about an hour ago. Anything I can help with?"

Weevil's eyes flick between her and Logan, eyebrow rising at their compromising position, before he shakes his head. "Nah, it's okay. I'll catch him tomorrow."

"Not long until the court date now, huh?" she says.

Weevil shrugs. "Couple more weeks. Not that it'll do much good; I'm a goner either way."

"I think you underestimate my father's expertise," Veronica counters. "I wouldn't be surprised if you get a positive outcome."

He doesn't look convinced.

"Yeah, well, we'll see." He turns to leave. "See you around, V."

"Say hello to Jade and Valentina for me."

"Sure. Will do." Weevil's smile doesn't reach his eyes as he turns, saunters out of the office.

"Well, that was sufficiently awkward," Logan muses, tightening his arms around her waist when she turns back to him.

"Okay," murmurs Logan from behind her. "What you wanna do is hold it like this."

He positions her hand on the small .38 Special, his chest pressed against her back, legs braced against the back of hers. It's a bright Saturday afternoon and Logan, determined to follow through on his previous promise to teach her how to shoot, has taken her to the gun range.

"Keep your knees bent slightly, it'll help absorb the shock from the recoil. You need to stay relaxed," he says. His free hand comes around her waist, angling her forward slightly. "If you keep your weight over your toes, it'll help you to balance."

Veronica frowns, the words familiar. "You know, Weevil told me almost exactly the same thing a few months ago."

"Weevil?" He sounds surprised. "When were you and Weevil discussing the finer points of shooting a handgun?"

She shrugs. "When I came here a while ago, when you were away. He saw me, gave me some pointers."

"Sounds like he knows his stuff," he says. "Though can't say I'm surprised."

"Guess he does."

"So, you ready?"

She nods, though there's a curl of apprehension in her stomach. She's still not entirely comfortable with owning a gun, let alone having to fire it.

"Okay, so, you line up the shot, like this." He tilts her head slightly, moves her arm into position. "Look straight down the barrel at your target…."

His thumb guides hers on the weapon and Veronica shivers in response to his proximity. Their position, with him plastered against her back, is strangely intimate.

"Remember to keep your knees bent and your weight forward." His voice is soft, almost sensual, and she can feel his warm breath against her ear. "And when you're ready, pull the trigger."

His hand shifts on the gun, index finger sliding over hers, ready when she is. Except, nothing happens, she can't bring herself to do it, memories of the last time she had to fire it flashing through her mind.

"You okay?" he asks gently.

Veronica swallows. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine… just, gimme a sec."

She squares her shoulders, focusing her concentration on the target before her. After a moment, she feels Logan begin to exert pressure on the trigger, and she lets him, taking a deep breath and copying his movement.

"Get ready for the recoil," he murmurs. "I've got you."

She resists the urge to squeeze her eyes tightly shut as together they pull the trigger back all the way, the power of the shot causing her to stumble back against Logan.

"Hey, great job," he says warmly. "Try it again."

With his support, she fires again, then again, until she's used the whole round. When she checks the target, she's surprised to find that not only did she hit it each time, but two of the shots are close to the heart and two hit the head. She grins. Logan wasn't bragging before, he's good.

"See, told you you could do it," he says, shooting her a grin as he comes to stand beside her. "Wanna try it on your own this time?"

Veronica shakes her head. "Maybe in a minute. Why don't you take the next round?"

"Sure."

He changes the target sheet, then reaches for her gun and loads it expertly. Veronica takes a step back and watches as he adjusts his stance. He looks so at ease, so confident, and she wonders exactly how much experience he really does have with firearms. He shoots four times, one after the other, barely a pause in between, and when the target comes rolling back, her eyes widen when she sees four perfect shots to the centre of the head.

"Wow," she murmurs in awe. "That's amazing."

Logan shrugs, changing the sheet again. "Lots of practice."

"Right." She just hopes it was practice on inanimate objects and not anything living.

He loads the gun again and holds it out to her. "Your turn."

Mid-September arrives, along with Weevil's court date. It's sweltering hot and particularly muggy for the time of year and Veronica is relieved to step inside the cool Mars Investigations office after the verdict comes in and he's found not guilty. As she watches everyone around her celebrating and congratulating Weevil, Veronica pulls out her cell phone, stepping into the small kitchen area as she presses the call button.

"Lieutenant Echolls." He sounds distracted, but the sound of his voice makes her smile regardless.

"Hey, it's Veronica."

"Hey." The warmth in his tone is unmistakable. "What's up? How did it go?"

"Weevil's been cleared of all charges," she tells him. "He's a free man."

There's a low whistle.

"Never thought I'd be glad to hear that," he jokes. "Tell him congrats."

"Will do," she says. "So, you think you'll make it back for the celebrations?"

There's a pause before, "Uh, I don't think so, I've still got some things to finish up here."

"You sure?" She can't deny the slight feeling of disappointment at his words.

"Yeah, it's gonna be a late one."

"Okay." She nods. "Well, we'll be at the office if you're back early and want to swing by."

"Okay, cool." He seems distracted again, and she can hear the rustle of papers in the background.

"You sound busy; I'll let you go," she says. "See you later."

"See you tonight, Veronica."

She pockets the phone, forcing a smile as she heads back into the main office space. Sure, Logan isn't exactly friends with the group of people milling about the room, but it would have been nice to have him here to celebrate with them all the same.

As Veronica snuggles up beside Logan in bed that night, as she kisses him and he holds her close, she rethinks her decision not to tell him about her new case. Despite the whole 'no cases in the bedroom' rule she's enforced, it feels like she's keeping it from him by not mentioning it.

"I got a new case today," she says softly, tracing his chest with her fingers, as his do the same along her arm.

If he's surprised she's mentioning it, he doesn't show it. "Oh, yeah?"

She nods against his side. "They asked for me personally. Seems Petra Landros made a referral."

"Well, aren't you Miss Hot Shot PI?" The words should be sarcastic, but his tone implies admiration. "What kind of case?"

"The client is some kind of claims adjuster for an insurance company, but the case itself…" She winces. "It's pretty ugly—I'd rather not go into it now, you know, in bed."

His fingers still and his chin lifts from where it's been resting on the crown of her head. "Ah, it's one of those cases."

"Unfortunately, yes."

"You know, I don't know how you handle them," he murmurs, arm tightening around her, fingers starting up their swirly pattern on her skin again. "I'm not sure I could do it, and I haven't even…"

"Yeah…"

To be honest, Veronica's had way too many of those cases before. Rape, murder, violation of women. For the most part, she's able to numb herself to the emotions involved and slip into 'work mode', but they still hit close to home nonetheless.

"You know, this is why I said no cases in the bedroom," she says. "I'd rather not think about the gruesome details when we're alone together."

"Well, I might have a way to take your mind off them."

Veronica smiles, shifting in his arms and hooking one leg over his so she can look up at him. "And what, pray tell, might that be."

He smiles, his expression warm, gaze soft and tender. His hand comes up, slides along her cheek, thumb brushing her skin as he lowers his forehead to hers.

"Something like this," he murmurs, licking his lips before kissing her gently.

She returns the kiss, smiling against his mouth, before pulling back just a hint. "I definitely approve."

"I thought you might."

His lips find hers again and he gently urges her onto her back, settling over her. He makes love to her tenderly, taking his time, rocking into her slowly. As much as Veronica loves their heated, passion-filled encounters, there's something to be said for the serene calmness that flows through her when they come together like this.

Logan stares at his laptop screen as he sits at Veronica's kitchen counter, bagel in hand, early Sunday morning a week-and-a-half later. The words at the bottom of the screen are tricky to read, let alone say, even with the vocal demonstration from the Arabic woman on-screen, but he's starting getting the hang of it.

"Motasharefon bema'refatek," says the voice through the speakers. "Nice to meet you, masculine. Motasharefon bema'refatek."

"Mota-share…fon bema'ref…atek." He tries them out.

"Sabah al khayr. Good morning. Masa'a al khayr. Good evening."

"Sabah al khayr," comes Veronica's voice from behind him.

He tries not to jump as he turns, giving her a sheepish grins, shutting the laptop and replying, "Sabah an noor."

The look on her face is unreadable, and he's not sure what to make of it. He flicks his eyes over her hair—pinned back into a low ponytail, the ends draped over one shoulder—then her outfit, which is… completely un-Veronica-like: a pink, flowery skirt and white top, and says, "Aren't you wholesome this morning?"

"Gotta look good for Jesus," she quips, leaning over to press a quick kiss to his cheek.

He frowns. Jesus? Oh, that's right; she's off to that church thing this morning—something for her new case.

Well, there goes our day together

"It's not even eight," she says, sounding incredulous. "You've been up, out for bagels, and learning a new language with the sunrise? Who are you and where's my boyfriend?"

Pushing down the urge to tell her that this early-morning routine has been his norm for a few years now so maybe she shouldn't keep comparing him to his teenage self, he makes a light joke.

"I'm practicing for when you finally get your way about that puppy you keep going on about," he says. "We both know who's going to be rolling out of bed and taking it out to do its business."

The first few weeks after he came back from deployment, there had been no mention of puppies at all, but lately she's been dropping hints about how much she misses Backup and would love a new dog to care for. Logan's not sure it's a good idea, considering how busy they both are, and he's been resisting so far, but God knows Veronica can be persuasive when she wants something, so he's been preparing for his inevitable cave-in.

He slides off the stool and grabs the remaining bagels from the bread box, holding the bag up for her to see. "I got blueberry, sesame, and plain. Pick your poison."

"Three years I lived in New York—three!" she says, putting on a pretty good Yiddish accent. It kind of freaks him out how easily she slips into it. "I know from bagels, bubeleh. And now you want I should eat this Trader Joe's chazzerei?"

Oh, just pick one, smartass. The amused retort is on the tip of his tongue, but he bites it back with a smirk, picking out one of the sesame bagels, slicing it and dropping it into the toaster.

"Sesame, it is. Extra schmear."

He turns to her, watching as she hops up onto the stool he was previously sitting on. It all feels very domestic this morning, like they're actually a regular couple or something. He got up, went running along Dog Beach, picked up the fresh bagels on his way home, and now he's making breakfast for Veronica, who is dressed for church.

Who would have thought it, huh?

"So, what's with the Arabic?" She asks, opening his laptop again. He resists the urge to slide it from her grasp, unsure how she's going to react. "You didn't experience any reprogramming in the Middle East that you haven't shared with me? Any well-worn rugs I should avoid giving to Goodwill?"

He narrows his eyes, keeping his face as straight as he can while he pours them each a cup of coffee and then adding a generous schmear to her bagel.

"I harbour no feelings that should concern you or my native land, to which I remain fully loyal," he says seriously. "But Allah willing, the Great Satan Hulu Plus will soon pay the price for blocking season five of Archer in Iraq." She shoots him a confused look, to which he grins, giving a shrug. "I'm just messing around with it. My CO said I should think about taking some classes. Might be useful, you know?"

Veronica frowns at that and he wonders what's going on in her head. When she speaks, there's a slight bite to her tone.

"That's funny. I didn't think they spoke a lot of Arabic in San Diego."

Shit, he thinks. Of course. Learning to speak Arabic implies he'll be spending time in an area of the world where it's spoken as standard.

"You don't order a lot of shawarma, do you?" He's quick to deflect with humour. His go-to response. "I need my pita crusty but still moist inside; meat shaved thin; no eggplant. Plenty of skhug and fresh-cut lemons on the side." He gives a shrug. "Tough to pantomime all that."

She's silent, just looks down at the coffee mug in her hands, and Logan curses internally. He studies her carefully while she seems to debate something in her head. She opens her mouth to speak, then promptly closes it, instead lifting the mug to her lips.

"Thanks," she says, taking a sip.

"Al'afw." He smiles, though it's just slightly forced this time.

As Veronica munches on her bagel, Logan reaches for his coffee mug and the rest of his own bagel and they eat in silence for a few moments, Logan watching Veronica as he leans against the counter, and Veronica switching her attention between him and the Arabic woman on his laptop screen. It doesn't take long for the silence to get to him and for Logan to break.

"Come on, out with it."

She turns innocent eyes to him. "Out with what?"

"Whatever it is that's bothering you." Before she can reply he adds, "And don't tell me it's nothing—it's written all over your face."

She hesitates, chewing slowly on her bagel. She swallows.

"It's just… you only just got back," she says, seeming to struggle with what she wants to say. "I thought we were focusing on the here and now, making the most of the next year and a half… but if you're learning Arabic, then that means you're planning to use it at some point, presumably in the relatively near future, and that means…"

I'll be going away again, he finishes silently.

"Hey," he says putting down his coffee and walking over to her, turning her on the stool so she's facing him fully. "I am focused on the here and now. Like I said, I'm just trying it out, nothing serious."

"Yeah…" She looks dubious.

"Look." He captures a strand of her hair between his finger and thumb, rubbing it softly. "I do want to make the most of it, here with you, but the reality is that I will be deploying again at some point, and it is likely to be in that area of the world. Being able to speak the language could come in handy, and there's no point in putting off learning it until it's too late."

He looks down at her, watching her take that in with a slow nod. With a sigh she leans forward, resting her head on his chest, her arms slipping around his waist. He steps closer, between her legs, and winds his arms around her back.

"I'm sorry," he says. "I don't want to—"

"No." She shakes her head against his chest, then straightens up so she can look him in the eye. "It's okay. You don't have to apologise—it's just a bit of a surprise… you know, walking in on you speaking Arabic, of all things."

Logan tries to picture it from her point of view. In his mind, it seems perfectly logical that he might try to learn the language. He knows a few guys on the ship who speak it, and it makes sense for him to be able to do the same. But for a civilian, for someone like Veronica—a PI-turned lawyer-turned PI again—it must seem a really strange thing to be doing.

"Yeah, I see your point." He nods. "From now on, I'll warn you about these things."

"You don't have to do that," she says. "It's just gonna take a bit of time for all this Navy stuff to become more normal to me, that's all."

She smiles then, leaning up to kiss him. He gets the feeling she meant it to be chaste, but he can't help deepening it, tightening his arms around her. When he pulls back, her breathing is uneven and her cheeks are flushed. She looks gorgeous, despite the conservative clothing.

"Hey, when do you have to leave for church?" he asks, flashing her a wicked smile. "Think we have time for a quickie?"

He laughs when she tuts at him, swatting his arm and slipping off the barstool.

After pulling late nights earlier in the week, Logan manages to wrangle a half-day on Thursday. Veronica's been busy with her case and they've barely seen each other all week, so he joins her in midtown Neptune for the announcement of Weevil's lawsuit against the Sheriff's Department.

As they stand together in the cramped lobby of the office building, Logan notices Veronica observing Weevs' lawyer, Lisa Choi, thoughtfully. Her expression is almost wistful and he wonders if she's thinking about her own missed opportunities in the legal profession.

"When we lose faith in our officers of the law, it harms all of us," Lisa says forcefully. "It cripples our criminal justice system. It threatens the most vulnerable parts of our community. It allows money and power to subvert justice."

Logan bites back a chuckle at that, leaning in to whisper in Veronica's ear, "I miss money and power."

Her mouth twitches, like she wants to laugh, but she presses her lips together, focusing on the lawyer again. When Lisa finishes her speech and the topic turns to questions, Veronica turns to him, nodding toward the door. He returns the nod and they head out onto the sidewalk. It's still unseasonably hot out, despite it being almost October, the sun glaringly bright, though this heat is nothing compared with the desert extremes of the Middle East.

"Well, that was romantic," he comments, watching her fumble in her bag for something.

She pulls out her sunglasses and slides them onto her face as she looks up at him with a smirk.

"Why, darling, what could be more romantic than uncovering systemic corruption through a gruelling process of investigations, subpoenas, and litigation?" She tilts her head at him. "But, I guess, if you want, we could do something more, you know, light and fun?"

Yes, please, he thinks. I've missed you this week.

Instead, he fakes a double-take, wiggling a finger in his ear as if to clear it out. "I don't understand, what is this 'fun' and how do you do it?"

"I've heard some people do it two days a week." She plays along, her tone light and joking. "Maybe we could take a drive up the coast? Have dinner later tonight?"

"Dinner, like, at the same place, at the same time?" He raises an eyebrow, only half-joking now. "Now that sounds suspiciously date-like."

"Yeah?"

She smiles, rising up on her tiptoes to kiss his lips softly. He's very tempted to grab her and hold her there, but they're in the middle of the street, in the middle of the afternoon.

She pulls back. "Play your cards right, maybe I'll take you home after."

Oh, fuck, yeah. He's about to voice that enthusiastic response when her phone rings, interrupting the moment.

"Let me take this real quick, okay?" She answers the phone, holding up one finger to him.

Logan exhales heavily, shoving a hand in his pocket as she listens intently for a moment, then shifts the phone and moves a few steps away. He watches her closely as she speaks on the phone, her body stiffening, her posture all business.

Great, duty calls. There goes that romantic date tonight.

He keeps his eyes on her as she hangs up and glances toward the group of people inside the building as she makes her way back over to him. Despite the sunglasses covering her eyes, he can almost guarantee her expression holds apologies and regret.

Logan forces a smile as she approaches him, her mouth opening to speak. He beats her to it.

"Our plans just got cancelled, didn't they?"

She bites her lip, slipping off her sunglasses so she can look up at him properly. He was right. It's written all over her face.

"Logan, I'm sor—" She stops, seemingly reconsidering something as she studies him. "Actually, you know what? It can wait until tomorrow."

"Really?" He's surprised, it's not like her to blow off a case to have some 'fun'.

She nods, reaching for his hand, linking their fingers. Logan squeezes gently. "Yes, really. We've hardly seen each other all week, and you have the afternoon off. Let's make the most of it."

"Okay." Logan grins. "I'm in."

"This is nice," muses Veronica, as she and Logan walk barefoot across the warm sand later that evening.

"It is," Logan agrees, tightening his arm around her waist, tugging her closer. "See, aren't you glad you changed your mind?"

As she suggested earlier, they took a drive down the coast and stopped for dinner at a quaint, beach-front restaurant just a few miles outside of San Diego. It's strange, actually. Not the food, of course, that's excellent; no, it's the occasion that seems strange: it's their first real, romantic date in months. Not being the traditional 'date night' type of people, it isn't often they actually do things properly like this, but Veronica is very glad she decided to take some time and spend the rest of the day with Logan.

"Yes, actually, I am." She nods. "I'm sorry, I know we haven't seen each other much this week… you know how I get when I'm on a case. I can't focus on anything else."

"I know." She feels his lips pressing against the crown of her head. "I get it, I do. But you're right, this is nice. Any time I get to spend alone with you is nice…" He lowers his mouth to her ear. "More than nice."

The suggestiveness of his tone, along with the warm breath tickling her neck, makes her shiver, ripples down her spine. She stops, stepping in front of him, sliding her hands up over his chest and around his neck as she rises up to kiss him.

"Definitely," she murmurs into his mouth.

His arms constrict around her, pulling her up against his chest as he deepens the kiss, his tongue slipping inside, tangling with hers. She can't stop the moan of pleasure when she feels his arousal against her stomach. Tightening her grip on him, she presses herself even closer, shuddering as his hands flatten on her back, sliding up and down. It's just getting even more heated when something startlingly cold and wet hits her feet and she gasps, stumbling back in shock and looking down at the waves lapping at their ankles.

"Well, shit." Logan lets out a breathless chuckle.

Veronica grins. "Guess that was a much-needed dose of cold water."

"Come on." He holds his hand out to her. "Let's move further up the beach."

She takes it, letting him lead her a little further from the water. The sun is beginning to set now, dowsing the horizon with a pinkish-orange glow. It would make the perfect picture.

"Hang on a sec," she says, reaching into her bag for her camera. "I wanna get a couple of photos."

Logan nods, standing there for a moment while she starts snapping pictures of the gorgeous scenery. You don't get sunsets and beaches like this in New York. After a few moments, he seems to get bored and starts wandering along the shoreline. Veronica observes him for a moment, before lifting her camera and taking a few shots of him. He stops, turning to face the water, looking pensive and she smiles as she snaps yet another photo of him, the glow of the sun creating the perfect shadows across his profile.

He's still deep in thought when she approaches him, and doesn't seem to notice her. The tide is coming in faster now and she grins when a slightly larger wave rolls in. Tucking the camera back in her bag, she leans down, scoops up some of the cold salt water and splashes him.

"Shit!" He jumps back in shock, then shakes his head witheringly when he sees her.

She laughs. "Sorry, couldn't resist."

He purses his lips, eyes narrowed, mischievous expression in his eyes. "I'm gonna get you for that."

"Just you try."

She starts backing away, breaking into a run when he lunges for her. He's too fast though and, unlike him, she's not used to running on sand, so it's only a few seconds before he catches up with her and grabs her around the waist from behind, lifting her up and striding over to the water.

"No, Logan, stop." She wriggles in his hold as he starts lowering her toward the water. "Please."

"Why should I?" he teases, lifting her again. "You got me wet, now it's my turn."

He kicks at the water with his foot, sending a spray of droplets up over her bare legs. She hisses. "Fuck, that's cold."

He laughs. "I know."

"Come on, please," she begs when he expertly hoists her up into his arms, bridal-style, and marches further into the water.

She looks up at his face to find determination written all over it. He's really going to do this. Shit. Thinking quickly, she loops one arm around his neck so she can lean in close to his ear.

"You really don't have to do this," she says softly. "You've already got me wet."

It takes only a second to realise what a stupid move she's just made. It's the second in which he straightens up in surprise, losing his concentration. Time seems to move in slow-motion as she feels herself falling.

"Shit, Veronica!"

Logan makes a grab for her, but he only manages to catch hold of her bag. Veronica squeezes her eyes shut, exhaling in a sharp gasp and a cry as she hits the freezing cold water. The shock is like pins and needles, and Veronica splutters when she resurfaces, eyes narrowing with anger.

I'm gonna kill him.

Of course, when she sees his expression, she can't be mad. He's looking at her sheepishly, bottom lip jutting out in a guilty pout. He's holding her bag, containing her camera and all the other important equipment that really shouldn't get wet, high above the water.

"Hey, at least I rescued your bag."