Author's Note:

Apologies for the long wait between updates. The plan was to keep to the weekly schedule, but unfortunately I had trouble with this chapter and it's taken until now to have it ready for posting.

So, although it's not Wednesday, here's the next chapter anyway :).

Chapter Fifteen

The silence in the car is broken by the sound of humming; Green Day, if she's not mistaken. Veronica grits her teeth, lowers the binoculars, and shoots Logan an irritated look.

"Shh."

The humming stops. "Huh?"

"You're distracting me."

He snorts a laugh. "From what, sitting in the dark?"

"It's not funny." She swats his arm. "I'm trying to concentrate here."

"Veronica, just face it: the guy's not showing up." He throws up a hand, gesturing to their surroundings. "This is a waste of time."

"Hey," she returns. "I don't tell you how to do your job."

"Fine."

He slumps further down in the passenger seat, resting his hands over his stomach, his head pressing back against the headrest.

"Thank you." She lifts the binoculars again, focusing on the yacht once more.

It's been a week since their big fight and subsequent make-up, and things are largely back to normal again. They're down at the marina tonight, on the trail of what appeared at first to be a regular cheating spouse case. She's been hired by the wife of a prominent Neptune businessman to investigate her husband, whom she suspects is cheating. She's been trailing the guy for three days now, though Veronica isn't convinced about the affair. The man is definitely up to something, but she hasn't found any evidence of him engaging in tryst-like activities as of yet.

Beside her, Logan clicks his tongue a couple of times before sitting up and rifling through the pile of CDs she keeps in the glove compartment. She eyes him, but remains quiet. Apparently not finding anything he likes, he sits back again with a sigh.

"I'm bored."

"So I can see." She shakes her head. "You didn't have to come, you know."

"What and stay home alone watching TV on a Saturday night? No thanks," he says sceptically. "Besides, if you recall, we were supposed to be on a date right now, but you bailed on me for this. If I'm here, I can at least pretend we're doing something semi-date-like."

That gives her pause. "Yeah, okay. Sorry."

"Not your fault." He shrugs, then looks out of the window. "So, how long do we give him?"

Veronica glances at the clock; it's just after 11 p.m. and they've been sitting here for almost two hours, with no sign of, well, anything.

"Not sure. Another hour, maybe?"

"An hour? Seriously?" Logan huffs. "Geez, Veronica."

She can't help but grin. "As I said, it was your choice to come."

"Yeah, don't remind me." He rolls his eyes. There's a beat before, "So, if we have an hour to kill… wanna make out?"

"Logan!" She tries for exasperated but the effect is ruined by the smile tugging at her lips.

"Come on," he murmurs, leaning across the centre console, his breath on her cheek as he whispers, "Live a little."

Veronica tries to ignore him, but when his lips press against that sensitive spot behind her ear, and his palm lands on her upper leg, his fingers slipping between her thighs, she can't help giving a soft sigh.

"Stop it," she says, though it comes out more playful than she intended. "I'm trying to work here."

"So?" He grins against her neck. "It's not like you're swamped right now."

His fingers start tracing small circles on her inner thigh, over her jeans, and her stomach muscles clench involuntarily in response to the tingles spreading along her nerves. When his tongue darts out to lick her sensitive skin, she groans and, unable to take it anymore, drops the binoculars and turns her head so their mouths meet.

"That's more like it," he whispers against her lips.

His hand slides higher up the inside of her thigh, as his tongue tangles with hers, and her legs part involuntarily. He cups her sex through the denim as his other hand comes up to her jaw, urging her closer. Veronica shudders when his finger strokes along the seam of her jeans, causing a rush of heat deep in her core.

God, this feels good.

She's on the verge of saying, fuck it, and climbing onto his lap, but the sound of a car door slamming in the distance pulls her out of the pleasurable haze and she breaks the kiss, immediately on the alert as her eyes scan their surroundings.

"Shit," she hisses, pushing at Logan's chest. "Someone's here."

"What?" he blinks, looking dazed.

"Move, Logan," she says urgently, reaching for her camera. "I need to get pictures."

With a disappointed sigh, he complies, flopping back into the passenger seat again. "Just when things were getting good."

"Hold that thought, okay?" she says, lifting the camera and snapping away.

Thirty minutes later, she's got the photos she needs, and as soon as she's put the camera away, Logan decides he's had enough of waiting and drags her into the backseat for a heated make-out session.

"Mmm, we don't do this nearly often enough," he murmurs between kisses.

His hands run down her sides and sliding around to cup her bottom, tugging her against him. A soft moan escapes her lips as his hard length presses against her.

"No, we don't." She grins against his mouth.

His fingers slip beneath the hem of her top, palms sliding up over the bare skin of her back, making her shiver as his mouth leaves hers and he starts kissing a trail down over her neck. His fingers move across a sensitive spot under her arm and she giggles in response, wriggling away.

"Hey, stop it," she admonishes, swatting at his shoulder as she shifts away from his roaming fingers. "You know, I think we're getting too old for this 'making out in the backseat' malarkey. It's embarrassing; like we're horny teenagers or something."

Logan lifts his head, grinning up at her with a wicked glint in his eye.

"Veronica, we're never too old for this. It's fun. And exciting." He kisses her again, one hand coming up to cup the back of her neck. "Besides, when was the last time we actually did it in the back of a car, huh? In my opinion, this is long overdue."

"Yeah, okay. Maybe it is." She grins, heat pooling in her belly as he rocks his hips against hers. "But I'm blaming you if we get caught. Now, that would be embarrassing."

Veronica paces across the kitchen, back and forth, as she calls Logan's number yet again. She's lost count of how many times she's tried his cell in the last three hours, how many messages she's left, but he's not picking up. It's a Wednesday evening in late April and they were supposed to be out on a much-needed dinner date tonight—the last couple of weeks having been pretty hectic with work—and Logan promised he would be back by six, but it's after nine now and there's still no sign of him.

"Come on, Logan. Where are you?" she mutters.

As if she can sense something's wrong, Pony whines from her position on her bed in the corner of the kitchen, looking up at Veronica with sad eyes.

"I know, girl," she says, hanging up in defeat. "I'm worried about him, too."

She crosses the kitchen and crouches before the dog, ruffling her fur. "Where is he, huh, Pony? Why isn't he answering his phone?"

Pony looks up at her with wide, soulful eyes and gives another soft whine.

"Okay. One more time."

She shifts, sitting on the floor beside the dog bed as she dials Logan's number. Again.

No answer. Again.

She hangs up, slumping back against the cupboards, absently stroking Pony's ear as she tries to figure out what to do next. She's just contemplating calling her dad when her phone starts ringing, the shrill noise harsh in the silence of the condo.

She glances down to see Logan's name lighting up the screen.

"Logan? Thank God," she answers, giving a sigh of relief. "Where are you?"

"Uh, Veronica? Hey, this is Chaos," comes the hesitant voice on the other end.

"Chaos?" She sits up straight. "What's going on? Where's Logan… is he okay?"

"They haven't told you?" Chaos curses softly. "No, of course, they wouldn't."

Veronica freezes, fear gripping her chest. "Told me what?"

"There's, uh… there's been an accident," he says slowly. "During training today. Logan, he—"

"Oh, God."

Her blood turns cold. No, please, no. Not Logan.

"Is… is he—? He's not—?" She can't get the words out, the thought too unbearable to comprehend.

"Oh, no," says Chaos quickly. "He's okay… but he's in the hospital."

Veronica exhales heavily, her heart pounding. "What happened?"

"We don't know, exactly," he says. "Something went wrong during his test flight this morning. He had to eject."

"Where is he?" Veronica stands from the floor, looking around for her purse.

"Sharp Coronado Hospital. It's just off the base."

"I'll be there as soon as I can."

"Okay. Drive safe."

As Veronica ends the call, her eyes slide closed, one hand holding the phone to her chest as she tries to calm her frantically beating heart.

Accident. Ejected. Hospital.

God, isn't that, like, still really dangerous… ejecting from a plane? she thinks absently, grabbing her jacket and Pony's leash. Don't people die from that?

She drops the dog off at Keith's with a quick explanation, then hightails it down the 5 to San Diego.

"Where is he?" are the first words out of her mouth when she spots Chaos in the hospital reception and marches up to him.

"Veronica." He gives a sympathetic smile, stepping forward to offer a hug. "You made it."

"Fast as I could." She returns the hug, then steps back. "Is he okay?"

"He's… he was very lucky," he says. "Come on, I'll take you up."

She nods, letting him lead her over to the elevator. They ride up to the fourth floor, then walk along the squeaky-clean, disinfectant-smelling corridor. Veronica shudders; she hasn't been inside a hospital since her father's accident last year. It's not exactly her favourite place to be at the best of times.

"He's in here," says Chaos softly, stopping in front of one of the doors. "He was sleeping last time I looked in."

Veronica frowns, realising how quiet it is on this floor. "Is it okay for me to be here? Aren't visiting hours over?"

"I called in a favour." Chaos gives a lopsided grin and a shrug as he opens the door. "Come on."

Veronica steps inside the small, stark room, her eyes focusing immediately on Logan, who is lying in the bed, propped up by pillows. As Chaos suggested, he's asleep. Other than his normally golden-tan skin now looking pale and drawn, he doesn't seem too bad. There's a nasty-looking bruise forming over his temple, his right arm is in a sling, and there's a cast on his elevated left leg.

"Logan…" Veronica moves to his side, taking his free hand in hers and squeezing gently. "It's okay, I'm here."

He doesn't stir.

"I think he's knocked out on the pain meds," offers Chaos from the doorway.

Veronica sinks down into the chair beside the bed as she looks over at him. "But, he's okay, right? He's gonna be okay?"

"That's what they're saying." He nods, moving further into the room. "He has a broken collarbone and fractured lower leg, but other than some hefty bruises, that's about it. All things considered, he escaped lightly, though the doctors are worried about spine compression. They want to keep him in for a couple of days to do an MRI and check he's okay."

"Right. Okay." She frowns. "So, what happened, exactly?"

"I don't know for sure," he says. "We were out on a test flight this afternoon and about twenty minutes in, he came over the radio, said something wasn't right and that he was going back to base. Next thing I know, he's calling a Mayday and the jet's heading toward the ocean. He got out in time, parachuted safely into the water, but ejecting isn't exactly easy on the body. He was lucky to come out of it with only the collarbone and leg injuries."

"Yeah…"

She turns her attention to Logan again, linking her fingers with his.

"I'll, uh, give you some time," says Chaos from behind her.

"Okay." Veronica nods, not taking her eyes off Logan.

She hears the door close behind Chaos as he leaves.

"Hey, it's me," she says softly, reaching up with her free hand to run her fingers along his cheek. "You scared me tonight. I didn't know where you were."

She stands, leaning over to press a kiss to his temple—the non-bruised one—before saying, "I'm so glad you're okay."

He gives a soft groan and her eyes snap to his face as she lowers herself to the chair again. He shifts a little, giving a grimace, then his eyes flutter open. He blinks a couple of times, then focuses on her, a small frown marring his features.

"V'ronica? What's going on?"

"Logan." She sits forward, tightening her grip on his hand. "You're awake."

"Where—?" He squints, then looks around the room. "I'm in the hospital?"

"Yeah, the one near the base," she confirms. "Do you remember what happened?"

"I uh…" He frowns in concentration. "I was running a test flight. It was going fine until… I think the pressure dropped. There was nothing I could do; I was losing altitude fast… so I pulled the ejection gun. Then—" He stops with a grimace, frown deepening. "I don't—"

"Hey, it's okay," she says comfortingly, rubbing his arm. "You don't have to—I'm just glad you're okay. I was so worried when you didn't come home."

"How long have I been here?"

"Not long. A few hours." She glances at the clock. "It's ten-thirty Wednesday night."

He tries to shift in the bed, but lets out a yelp of pain as it jars his shoulder.

"Don't try to move." She places her free hand lightly on his chest. "You've broken your collarbone. And your leg."

"Shit."

"At least you're okay. You're alive," she assures him. "Chaos said they want to do an MRI and keep you under observation for a couple of days—something about possible spinal compression."

"Right." He sighs heavily. "Guess this means I'll be unfit to fly for… well, who knows how long."

Veronica blinks. "You're seriously thinking about flying right now?"

His lips pull up in a small semblance of a smirk. "I'm a fighter pilot, Veronica. Flying is all we think about."

She gives an exaggerated roll of her eyes, kind of glad that he's making light of the situation right now, because she's still struggling to remain calm and not think about what could have happened.

"I certainly hope it isn't all you think about," she says lightly. "Please tell me you don't fantasise about cockpits while we're in bed."

He grins now; it's a tired grin, but a grin all the same. "Only about you being inside one with me."

She forces a soft chuckle. "Nice save."

"Thanks." He smiles, catching her eye, then frowns slightly. "Hey, are you okay?"

"Shouldn't I be the one asking you that?" she counters quickly, her heart pounding. When he just looks at her expectantly, she continues. "It's just… you were so lucky today, Logan. You could have died; I could have lost you forever… and you're sitting here making jokes."

His face falls, turning serious.

"Hey," he says, extracting his hand from hers, lifting it to cup her jaw, forcing her to look at him. "I'm fine, okay? I'm right here, and I'm not going anywhere."

She nods. "Yeah, I know."

"Look, I wasn't going that fast and I was only at a few thousand feet," he says. "Ejecting in those circumstances isn't that high-risk."

"I don't care. You fucking scared me, Logan." She tries for stern, but her voice trembles as she speaks, and Logan's expression softens.

"I know. I'm sorry." He gives an apologetic smile, his thumb stroking her cheek. "Hey, come here."

She rises from the chair, moving closer so his hand can slide around the back of her neck, as he tugs her in for a kiss.

Logan is released from the hospital on Friday. Veronica takes the morning off work to head down to San Diego and pick him up, driving him back to the house. The hospital has given him a wheelchair, since he can't use crutches with his arm in a sling, and as Veronica pushes him into the condo, he can't help but feel pretty useless right now; unable to even move anywhere without her help.

The MRI yesterday showed only a very slight spinal compression—not enough to cause any major problems—and the doctors tell him he's very lucky to have gotten off so lightly. He gets that, he does, and he's grateful to be alive… but it's still frustrating as hell to be stuck with even just a broken collarbone and fractured fibula.

His OC came to see him yesterday, and the first thing Logan asked was when he could get back in the cockpit again. The commanding officer just gave him a sympathetic look and told him he was being deemed unfit to fly until further notice. It's going to take at least two months for his injuries to heal and possibly even longer before he'll be in full health again. Ejecting from a fighter jet, no matter how lucky you are, takes its toll on the body and there's no guarantee he'll be able to get back in that pilot seat again.

"Are you okay?" Veronica asks as he makes himself comfortable on the couch in their condo, his casted leg elevated by cushions and sling still holding his shoulder in place.

"Do you want something to drink? Or eat? Something to read?" She flutters around him, looking nervous, as she grabs the TV remote and shoves it into his free hand. "Here, have this. Watch whatever you want. I have to get back to the office—are you going to be all right on your own?"

"Veronica, stop," he says softly. "I'm fine. Just go to work. I'll be okay; I have Pony to keep me company."

At the sound of her name, the dog lifts her head, then pads over to his side. With a smile, he drops the remote and reaches over to pet her. She nuzzles his palm, then settles down on the floor beside him.

"See? We'll be fine."

She hesitates. "If you're sure…"

"I am."

"Okay." She nods, then moves into the kitchen and starts collecting things, bringing them over to the coffee table and arranging them within his reach. "Pain meds, water, snacks, remote… uhh, magazines. You have your phone, right?"

"Yeah, it's right here." He pats his pocket.

"I'll be back around five, but call me if you need anything."

"I will." He nods.

"Okay." She leans down to kiss him. "I'll see you later."

Veronica is quiet at dinner that evening. She stopped for food on her way home, so now they're curled up in the living room surrounded by take-out cartons—well, actually, Veronica is the one curled up, over in the armchair, while Logan remains sprawled out along the sofa, leg still elevated.

Despite what he told her earlier about being fine, being stuck at home all afternoon and unable to go anywhere kind of sucked. Sure, he isn't that badly injured, but while he can deal with just a broken leg, the collarbone is a pain in the ass. He didn't feel too bad this morning but as the afternoon wore on and the meds started wearing off, the pain returned. He took more pills as soon as he could, but there's still a dull ache in the background which he can't seem to get rid of.

"You okay?" Veronica asks when he reaches over and places his half-eaten carton of Pad Thai on the coffee table. "I usually have to wrestle you for some of that."

"Yeah." He tries to shrug, but pain shoots through his shoulder and he grimaces. "Just tired. And in pain."

She frowns in concern, putting down her carton and sitting forward in the chair. "Anything I can do?"

He shakes his head. "No. Unless, of course, you have magical healing abilities or a time machine."

"I'm sorry," she murmurs softly.

"Yeah, well. I've had worse."

"Yeah…"

She makes a face, like she's remembering some of his previous injuries, then stills, eyeing the sofa in contemplation, until Logan gets curious.

"What are you thinking?"

"Just wondering how awkward it would be if I tried to join you over there." She gives a small smile.

Logan looks down at himself, at the ungainly plaster cast and the sling, and then at the free space on the couch—or lack thereof—and gives her an apologetic look.

"Sorry…don't think that's gonna work."

"Yeah, guess not." She sits forward, gesturing to the discarded Pad Thai carton as she changes the subject. "Hey, you done?"

"Sure." He nods.

"Great. More for me." Her voice is light, playful as she digs in, but Logan can hear the false cheerfulness in her tone.

"Hey," he says softly a moment later. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah." She glances up at him briefly. "I'm fine. Just… long afternoon."

He nods, though he's not convinced that's all it is.

By the time dinner is finished and Veronica's taken Pony out for her evening walk, Logan is seriously flagging, the pain meds and general exhaustion catching up to him. Veronica helps him into the en-suite bathroom and then into bed, propping him up against a mountain of pillows and elevating his leg again, before getting ready herself and sliding in beside him.

"Comfortable?"

He shifts a little, giving a grimace as pain shoots through his clavicle. "Eh, not really, but it's the best it's gonna get."

"Can I…?" She gestures to the space between them.

"Sure." He smiles. "Come here."

Gingerly, she shifts, curling up beside him, avoiding his busted leg. Carefully, so as not to jolt his shoulder, he slides his arm around her waist, smiling as she gently rests her head against his chest.

"I'm so glad you're okay," she says, her voice not much more than a whisper.

"Me, too," he agrees.

She sighs. "You know, the only reason I even knew you were in the hospital was because Chaos called me from your phone."

"I know, I'm sorry," he says. "I would have called myself, but—"

"No, that's not what I meant," she says quickly, shaking her head against his shoulder. "Chaos was surprised I didn't already know. But of course, how would I?"

"Veronica, what are you getting at?"

There's a pause before takes a breath and says, "I think you were right. It would make things easier."

"Huh?" Logan's confused; she's not making much sense and his mind is more than a little jumbled right now. "What would make things easier?"

"Being married."

Logan blinks in surprise, not expecting that at all.

"I mean, if we were," she continues, "I would have gotten that call hours earlier, but it would have been from the hospital, or the Navy, or whoever's responsible for making the calls. I could have been right there with you the whole time."

"That's true." He nods in agreement. He opens his mouth to say more, but she continues quickly.

"I mean, what if it had been more serious? What if you had—?" She takes a shaky breath, resting a hand over his heart. He looks down at her hand, feeling a tightening in his chest at the warm touch. "You could have been dying in that hospital and I wouldn't have even known."

"No," he says softly. "You wouldn't…"

"So, maybe we should. Get married, I mean."

"Wait, what?" He tries to straighten, then winces, thinking better of it. "Veronica… are you serious?"

She nods against his shoulder. "I am. It really hit home for me, you know… that you could really be in trouble and I would just be going about my life with no idea."

"Yeah, but—" He frowns.

"I mean, not right now, or anything… cos, you know…" she clarifies, gesturing to his injuries. "But when you're better."

Logan can't quite get his head around this. Is she really saying she's ready to get married? Just like that? It's a rather sudden turnaround for someone who just a few weeks ago was adamant she didn't want to get married.

"Veronica…" He urges her to sit up and look at him. She complies. "Do you really mean that? Because if this is just a reaction to what happened the other day, then I don't think—"

"I mean it." She cuts him off, then pauses to think for a second. "At least, I'm like, 80% sure I mean it. I just… look, I'm still not quite sold on the idea of marriage in general, but I also don't ever want to be in a position again where something happens to you and I have no idea."

"Okay. I get that." Logan nods, his heart pounding as the implications of her words sink in. She's actually seriously considering this. "But… look, it's been a long week, so let's, uh… let's talk about it properly when I'm better. How's that sound?"

"Yeah, okay." She nods in agreement. "That sounds good."

She stills, studying him for a long moment, before her lips curl up in a soft smile. "I love you, you know."

"I love you, too, Veronica."

Her smile widens as she leans closer, touching her lips to his in barely a whisper of a kiss. The simple caress sends a shiver down his spine and he leans in for more, his arm tugging her as close as his injuries will allow. She cups his face in her hands, deepening the kiss as she rises up. It's only when she moves to straddle his hips and the movement jolts his arm, causing him to hiss in pain, that he realises this is a bad idea.

"Oh, shit!" she exclaims, pulling back quickly and shifting back onto the mattress. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay." He smiles through his grimace. "Maybe we just avoid doing that for a while, huh?"

"Yeah, good idea," she agrees, though her disappointed expression says otherwise.

"Come here." He holds his arm out to her in invitation and she curls up beside him once more, slipping her arm around his waist.

As he holds her close, resting his chin on the top of her head, he can't help but frown, a niggling thought settling at the back of his mind. As incredible as it would be to marry Veronica, he's not sure she's wanting it for the right reasons. If they do get married, he wants it to be because she wants to, because it makes her happy, and not because it's the 'practical' thing to do under the circumstances. And he can't help but feel she's thinking with the pragmatic part of her mind and ignoring the emotional part.