Chapter Eight
As Logan turns away from Veronica in the airport the next morning and heads towards security, deployment papers in hand, he forces himself not to look back, not to get one last glimpse of her, because if he does, he's afraid he won't be able to leave. And he has to; despite how much he'll miss her, he has to go, for the sake of his own wellbeing.
As he moves through security, then walks to his gate, people around him nod respectfully and thank him for his service, but every time he glances down at his service khakis, he remembers how delectable Veronica looked wearing this very shirt just hours ago. Her scent still clings to the material and as he takes a seat at the gate, his thoughts are filled with how incredible last night was. How intense. It's never been quite like that between them before. It's certainly come close, but last night, they reached this whole new level of intimacy, one that makes his every nerve tingle even now.
His phone vibrates in his pocket and he fishes it out, a wide grin spreading across his face as he sees the caller ID.
"I miss you already," she says, before he can get a word in.
"Hello to you, too," he replies with a grin.
"Sorry," comes her soft voice on the other end. "I wasn't going to call, told myself not to, but—"
"Couldn't resist?"
"Something like that." She's trying to keep it light, but he can hear a slight shakiness to her tone. "I wanted to hear your voice again."
"I'll be home before you know it," he says.
"I know, it's just…"
"Yeah." I get it, Veronica. I really do.
"Come home to me, okay?"
He smiles at the words, memories of the last time she said that coming to mind as he replies, "Always."
"I love you."
"Love you, too."
They say goodbye and Logan looks down at the picture of her on his phone screensaver as he ends the call, sucking in a shaky breath. It's only two months. Just two this time.
He glances out of the window; the plane is already parked and waiting, the gate staff printing out the flight manifest. It won't be long now. His phone buzzes again and he can't help grinning at the sight of Veronica's name lighting up the screen once more.
"Two calls in less than five minutes… to what do I owe this honour?" he teases.
"Oh, shut up," she responds in the same light tone. "You know, this wasn't… I mean, my thumb just slipped and I—"
"Whatever you say." Logan bites back a smile.
"God, what is wrong with me?" She sighs. "I'm sorry. I should just go."
"No, don't," he says. "It'll be another twenty minutes before I can board. Keep me company."
"Okay."
Logan's smile widens and he leans back in his seat as her voice floats through the phone, words flowing over him comfortingly.
They don't hang up until he's called to board, and he spends the entire flight to Virginia thinking about her. Her scent on his shirt assaults his senses every now and then, and if he closes his eyes, he can almost pretend she's right here with him.
It's Thursday morning when he finally arrives on board the ship, and just stepping onto the flight deck feels like home… which is strange, because first off, it's not even the same ship as before, and secondly, he spent most of his deployment earlier this year wishing he could get off the damn thing.
But this is different. This is exactly what he needs right now. As he walks across the deck, toward the ship's main quarters, he can't think about the fact that this very spot is where Bilbo's jet took a nosedive just a few weeks ago. Instead, he focuses on the here and now, on getting back in the air and back into the swing of things.
"So, you made it there okay?" Veronica asks over Skype Friday morning. "Everything good on the ship?"
Being based in the Mediterranean Sea now, rather than the Persian Gulf, Logan's only ten hours ahead of California time, which makes communication a little easier this time around – for which Veronica is grateful. The connection on the ship seems pretty good too, which is a relief.
"Yeah." He nods. "Long journey, but I made it on board yesterday. Have a day to get adjusted, then I fly tomorrow."
He looks good, Veronica thinks. Tired, but good; handsome, too, in his uniform. There's a brightness to his expression that she hasn't seen in a while—it takes a moment to realise that he hasn't looked that way since he arrived back from deployment.
He's in his element there, she realises. He feeds off the adrenaline.
"That's good," she says. "And you're getting settled in?"
He just levels her with a look. "Quit stalling, Veronica. We both know why you called and it wasn't to make small talk."
"I'm not stalling." Veronica denies, though her heart is pounding and her nerves are shot to hell as she focuses resolutely on the screen and not on the sealed envelope sitting on the desk in front of her. "I want to know how you're getting on."
He eyes her suspiciously. "So, there isn't a letter from the California Bar in front of you right now, begging to be opened?"
"What, this letter?" She reaches for it, holds it up. "No, this is just a gas bill."
He raises his eyebrows in disbelief.
Veronica looks down at the envelope, then back up at him, feeling anxious. "What if I didn't pass?"
He shrugs. "Then you take it again. But that won't happen because you studied like crazy and I know you aced it."
"Then again, I'm not even planning to practice law," she hedges. "So maybe I don't even need to open it at all."
"Yes, you do," he says, leaning forward as he gives her a small, reassuring smile. "Come on, rip the Band Aid off."
She exhales slowly. "Okay, here goes."
She tears it open and pulls out the folded letter, heart racing as she unfolds it. She's silent as she reads, taking the words in, her breathing coming faster.
"Well?"
She swallows, looking back up at him. He's sitting forward in his chair, watching her expectantly. She tries to keep her voice steady as she says, "I passed."
Logan breaks out into a wide smile. "Congratulations! I knew you would."
"Yeah." She allows herself to smile in response. "I passed the Bar."
"My girlfriend: the lawyer," he says proudly, before adding, "slash private dick."
"Yeah," she says again. "Well, not quite; I have to take the attorney's oath of office and complete the State Bar registration card first." She scans the rest of the letter. "Says here that there's an admission ceremony in San Diego in a couple weeks."
"That's great." Logan grins. "I'm proud of you."
"Thanks."
"Doesn't it feel good to know you've passed the Bar?"
"Yeah, yeah, it does."
It does feel good. Veronica bites her lip as she re-reads the letter again, the words, 'Congratulations, you have satisfied the requirements for admission to practice law in California' jumping out at her. In a few weeks, she'll be a fully qualified lawyer.
The next day, Logan takes his first flight from the carrier. It's only a training sortie, since it's been a few months since the last time he took off from and landed on a carrier, and also because the jets they fly from the Truman are the single-seater F/A-18E, not the tandem-seat F/A-18F he's used to flying. That means it's all on him here, no WSO sitting behind.
There's a brief, tense moment as he taxis along the flight deck and visions of Bilbo and crashing jets flit before his eyes, but he clamps down on the fear, locks it away, and concentrates on the here and now. He manoeuvres the jet into position, waits for the catapult to be fitted, and then he's hurtling forward and soaring into the air.
The feeling of euphoria and completeness that envelops him as he handles the plane with ease, sending it shooting up into the sky, is one he embraces. This is what he needed; this is what keeps him sane amidst the horrors and stresses of the job. This makes him feel at home.
And it's not about Veronica or the rest of his life back in Neptune. That's completely different. It doesn't diminish his feelings for her, or mean she is less important to him. It's just, this is his career, his calling, his duty. It's where he was always meant to be. Now if only he could do this, right here, every day, and still go home to Veronica every night, life would be perfect.
"Congratulations, my amazingly talented daughter," states Keith on Wednesday night, the day before Thanksgiving, as he hands Veronica a glass of sparkling wine and picks up one of his own. "My bar-passing, lawyer daughter."
"Why, thank you, wonderful, loving, gushing father." Veronica smiles, raising her glass to his. "Cheers."
"Cheers." Keith returns the smile, then looks at her more seriously. "I'm so proud of you, Veronica."
"Thank you." She nods, then places her glass down on the kitchen island and begins chopping tomatoes. "But enough about me, let's get this lasagne made."
It's their first solo father-daughter dinner since early July, before Logan returned and started joining them each week. But now he's gone; it's just the two of them again. Since it's Thanksgiving tomorrow, Veronica's going to stay here with him for a couple of days, so they can spend the holiday together.
"What do you think?" Keith holds up a measuring cup filled with mozzarella. "More cheese? Less cheese? Different cheese?"
Veronica looks up, raising an eyebrow. "When is the answer ever less cheese?"
"Fair point."
Keith stirs the cheese into his sauce mixture. They work in silence for a few moments, before he speaks up.
"How's Logan getting on?"
Veronica pauses for a moment, pushing down the emotion that threatens to bubble up in her throat, schooling her features into a neutral expression.
She nods. "He's okay. He's back flying already."
"That's good," Keith said. "I'm sorry about his friend. That's gotta be hard."
"Yeah. It is," she agrees soberly.
Keith frowns thoughtfully, turning to her. "And how are you doing, honey?"
"I'm…" She stops, fighting to keep her voice steady. "I'm okay. I'm dealing." She shrugs dismissively, determined not to let her emotions spill over into the conversation. "It's only for a couple of months this time. Piece of cake."
Even as she says it, she wonders if it's true.
Before Logan left, she was sure she would be fine; she didn't like it, but they'd already survived six months apart, they could make it another two. What she didn't anticipate was the loneliness she would feel without him. Her apartment seems so empty now, and too quiet, even with Pony to keep her company. Waking up alone, no trace of his warm body beside her, is strange and discomfiting. She misses the sound of him humming tunelessly in the kitchen as he makes breakfast, and the aroma of shampoo and aftershave which always lingers in the bathroom after he's taken a shower. It's taken him leaving again to realise how much she's come to depend on him being there.
"Sweetheart…"
She cringes at the sympathetic tone of her father's voice and shakes her head quickly, clearing her thoughts.
"No, Dad, it's okay." She shoots him a smile. "Let's talk about something else."
"Okay." He nods, though he seems hesitant. "So, you're attending the oath ceremony for the bar soon?"
"Yeah, it's in San Diego on December 7th."
"You have anyone accompanying you?"
"Not yet," she replies. It kind of sucks that Logan's not here, because she would love for him to attend it with her. But no Logan means she can take her dad instead. She smiles at him warmly. "I've been holding out to ask you."
"Me?" Keith holds a hand to his heart in mock surprise. "Little old me?"
"So, what do you say, Pops? Be my date?"
"Of course, honey." He nods. "I'd be honoured."
Veronica puts down the knife and moves across the room to give him a quick hug. "Thanks, Dad."
She pulls back and they share a smile before Keith turns back to the lasagne, putting the finishing touches on it, and Veronica goes back to chopping tomatoes.
The rest of the evening is spent discussing Marcia Langdon running for sheriff and then trying to comprehend the bombshell that is unfolding on TV: that Weevil has decided to settle his case against the Sheriff's Department after all.
Veronica is fuming by the end of the TV press conference. After all the hard work her father's put into the case, after all those months of research and building a case, and he's just throwing it away. And for what? Money?
Her father was almost killed because of it. The whole thing makes her feel sick.
Thanksgiving on the USS Harry S Truman is something of a strange affair. It's the first time Logan's been deployed over Thanksgiving, but he's been told it's pretty normal to remain on active duty during the holiday period. There's a large dinner being prepared by the chefs and he's heard they're gonna try to show the big game later.
First though, he has a fighter jet to fly and weapons to drop over enemy territory. It's kind of nice though, he thinks, as he flies in formation with three other jets across the Middle East: working on Thanksgiving means he's not sitting around thinking about what he's missing out on back home. He spends his morning feeling the adrenaline rush of flying, the afternoon devouring a big-ass Thanksgiving dinner and early evening taking in the football game.
Midnight finds him holed up in one of the small booths in the computer hub for a late-night Skype date with Veronica… well, it's late for him, but only mid-afternoon back in Neptune.
"Hey," she smiles as she answers the call and Logan can't help but grin at the sight of her on his screen.
She looks great. As usual. From her surroundings, she looks to be in the spare room at her father's house.
"Hey," he returns, swallowing down his instinctive response of, God, I miss you.
The connection is good again, which he's glad for. The picture's clear and there's almost no delay.
"How was Thanksgiving on the ship today?" she asks.
"It was… odd," he tells her honestly. "I flew a mission this morning, but then we had the usual holiday activities: dinner was tasty, and they showed the game as well."
"Nice." She smiles again, though it doesn't seem to reach her eyes this time. Logan wonders what's wrong. "Glad you had a good day."
"What about you?" he asks, hoping she'll open up about what's bothering her. "Having a good time with your father?"
She shrugs. "Yeah, it's fun. He's good. We're doing three days of the daddy-daughter thing. Just us. I have a Skype date with Lianne and Hunter tomorrow though."
Logan frowns. "Are you okay? You look like something's wrong."
"You're right." She sighs. "It's Weevil's case. It's over. He's settled. Held a press conference and everything."
"Seriously?" Logan's surprised. "But I thought it was looking promising?"
"Yeah, it was." She grimaces. "I'm so pissed at him right now. It's a massive slap in the face. After everything Dad has done for him, and all the work he's put in, it was all for nothing."
"I don't get it." Logan's confused. "Why would he settle now?"
"Dunno. Money, probably. I'm gonna find out though," she says resolutely. "I plan to pay him a visit as soon as the holiday is over."
"Good luck," he tells her. "What about your case? Any new leads yet?"
"No." She sighs. "I'm positive the basketball coach is involved; I just can't prove it yet."
"I'm sure you'll find something soon."
"I hope so." She nods, before pausing and studying him seriously. "I miss you, you know."
He smiles softly. "I miss you, too."
"Our first Thanksgiving together and we're not even on the same continent."
"Yeah, it sucks."
"We'll have to do something special next year."
"Yeah, next year," he replies, and there's a strange flip in his chest at her words.
She's expecting them to still be together in a year? He knows he is—he doesn't plan on letting her go anytime soon… or ever—it's just, well, they've never been any good at the long-term thing before, and she does kind of have a history of running when things get tough. He just doesn't want to get his hopes up too high.
There's a knock on the door on her end of the call and Logan hears Keith's voice in the background.
"Sorry, Logan," she says regretfully. "I have to go. We'll talk again soon, okay?"
"Yeah, soon." He nods. "I'll let you know when I can get online again."
"Great." She smiles, then blows him a kiss. He makes a show of catching it, then blows one back. It's so cheesy, but he doesn't care; she makes him smile. "Bye, honeybunch."
The playful sarcasm in her tone makes him grin.
"Bye, sweetpea."
It's over a week before Logan gets a chance to talk to Veronica again, but next Saturday morning finds him sitting in the computer lab, Skyping her. They haven't talked since Thanksgiving and it's early December now. Hard to believe he's been back on the ship for more than two weeks already.
They've been a good two weeks though—things are going smoothly and there have only been a couple of instances where he's felt unsure of himself on landing the jet. Of course, he's still missing Veronica like crazy, keeps waking up in the morning thinking he's back in her apartment and that she's asleep beside him, but he knows he made the right choice coming here. Since he arrived the other week, he's felt more alive, more at peace with himself, deep down, than he has in months. It's freeing, flying missions, breathing in the clean ocean air, having a schedule and briefings and mission planning again. Not that he doesn't enjoy his on-shore job, and being with Veronica, but it's not the same as being out here, serving his country carrying out operational missions.
This morning though, he's more than happy to be sitting in front of the computer, Veronica's beautiful face filling the screen, as he grabs a few minutes to chat with her before he heads to the gym. It's Friday evening in California, and she's sitting at the kitchen counter in her apartment. The lights are dimmed and there's soft music drifting through the speakers. She looks like she's trying for relaxed, but Logan can see tension in her shoulders, and she seems a little distracted. He tries to keep the mood light by relaying an amusing story from a couple of days ago.
"So, we've got this kid running all over the ship asking everyone he meets for 'relative bearing grease'," he tells her gleefully. "And of course, everyone knows what that means—I mean, it's one of the oldest gags in the book—so they're all just stringing him along, telling him stuff like, 'Oh, yeah, I think they have some over in Maintenance.', 'Oh, sorry, we're out, so you'll have to go down to supplies.'"
He makes a show of rolling his eyes, and Veronica gives a small chuckle.
"Anyway, he spends half of his shift looking for the stuff, and he comes back up to the flight deck all excited, and he says to Shepard, 'This ship needs some organisation. You ever think about alphabetising the different kinds of grease, so it's easier to find?' I'd just taken a swig of water. Sprayed it right out of my nose."
"Ah, classic." Veronica smiles, adding airily, "What will you young comic prodigies think of next? Have you tried calling the kitchen and asking if their refrigerator is running?"
Logan smirks. "First of all, it's called the galley, and second of all, you don't want to mess with the chefs. They're already crazy." He gives a lopsided grin. "Anyway, we've all been through it. It's a rite of passage."
Veronica looks like she wants to say something snarky, but then seems to think better of it. "I'm glad it's not just frat boys and Hell's Angels that get all the fun of hazing."
She looks down and Logan frowns. Something's going on with her today.
"How's Pony?" he asks, changing the subject. He strains to see the puppy; he can hear her scuffling around on the floor. "I thought she'd be wearing a saddle by now."
Veronica smiles, angling the laptop downwards until the puppy comes into view.
"Hey, Pony." Logan grins at the sight of her. Despite his initial reservations about getting a dog, he has to admit, he's fallen in love with her. "Who's a good girl?"
She gives a soft bark and starts turning in excited circles, which makes him chuckle.
"Sit," he commands.
The dog sits obediently, which makes Veronica scowl on the screen.
"Damn! I still haven't been able to convince her that I wield the same authority you do," she complains. "Pony, sit."
Logan struggles to contain his laughter as the dog barks, wiggles her bottom and then starts running around the living room. Veronica looks at him in exasperation.
"You see?" she says. "Without you, it's chaos around here."
Logan just grins.
"It's the delicious, fetishistic thrill of military discipline," he says naughtily. "Isn't it, Pony… isn't it, my sweet little kinkster?"
Pony's head turns in the direction of his voice and she gives a soft whine. He smiles, feeling a rush of affection for her. He glances at the clock, then turns back to Veronica.
"Hey, listen, I gotta go in a second. My time's almost up. You sure everything is okay?"
"Me?" She looks surprised… and a tiny bit guilty. "Yeah, I'm fine. Why?"
"I don't know," he says, trying to puzzle her out. Something's bothering her. "You seem a little out of it."
A blush rises on her cheeks, leaving him wondering what's going on. "Sorry, I've just got a lot on my mind, I guess. Maybe I need some of that severe military discipline too."
He straightens, looking at her worriedly. Normally, words like that would send the blood rushing straight to his groin, but something in her tone is off; it's like she's trying too hard.
He's about to question her further when the screen goes black and he realises the connection has dropped. Normally he would try to get back online again, to finish the conversation, but he needs to get in a few miles on the treadmill before breakfast. With a sigh, he logs out of the PC and heads down to the gym.
Four days later, on Wednesday, Veronica and Keith head down to San Diego for her Oath Ceremony. It consists of an hour-long swearing-in ceremony at the Sheraton, followed by a 'luncheon' at a local seafood restaurant. By two o'clock, they're both back at the office sorting through their cases. It's all kind of underwhelming, to be honest.
The fact that she's a lawyer now doesn't really sink in until that evening, when Mac and Wallace come over to her apartment to celebrate, armed with pizza, beer and movies. An hour later she and Mac are sprawled across her sofa while Wallace has made himself comfortable on the floor, two boxes of half-eaten pizza lying on the coffee table.
"Here's to Veronica Mars, lawyer extraordinaire," Mac says, sitting up on the sofa and lifting her beer bottle for a toast.
Veronica grins as the three of them clink bottles. "You know, I'm not actually going to practice law. This was just a fall-back… you know, a just-in-case option."
"Yeah, we know," says Wallace. "Still, we can celebrate, can't we?"
"Of course." Veronica nods, giving him a smile.
"So, it feels like I've hardly seen you lately, V, not since the whole thing in San Diego with the gym bag." Wallace raises his eyebrows expectantly. "How've you been?"
"Yeah, sorry about that," Veronica says. "Things have been busy, with the case and Logan leaving and everything."
"How is Logan?" asks Mac. "He doing okay?"
"Yeah," she says. "I mean, I think so. The last few weeks have been hard on him, but he's coping. He's a lot better now that he's deployed again."
"Really?"
Veronica cringes when she realises what she just said, debating how much she should say to her best friends. Logan hasn't explicitly told her he doesn't want people knowing why he's gone back, but she doesn't want to betray his confidence by blurting out details of his private life either.
"Yeah, I mean…" She thinks quickly. "After something like that happens, you kind of just have to get back on the horse, you know? Get back to the job, and not let your grief or fear prevent you from doing what you need to do."
"Of course." Mac nods, understanding dawning. "Still, it sucks that he has to be so far away again."
Veronica considers not making a big deal of it, but then these are her closest friends. They'd probably see through it anyway.
"Yeah, it really does." She forces a smile, though she's sure her voice betrays her. "But they were short on the ship, and he felt it was the right thing to do."
"Still, he wasn't supposed to leave again for, like, 18 months, right?" Mac looks at her in question and Veronica nods. "Doesn't seem fair."
"No, but what can I do?" She shrugs, then sees them looking at her dubiously, and is quick to reassure them. "Logan has his reasons and I respect them. Besides, it's only for a few more weeks; he'll be home in January. It's fine, guys. Really."
Wallace eyes her sceptically until Veronica fixes him with a warning glare and he looks away.
An awkward silence settles between them, lingering for a few long seconds before Mac clears her throat. "Hey, we're supposed to be celebrating here… let's get this movie marathon started."