Taming of the Shrew

At first Logan refused to believe it.

There was no way his Bobcat was turned into a tame house cat under Lilly's tutelage.

But a month went by without any signs of the facade cracking or thawing, and he was forced to admit Veronica really had changed. Or maybe more to the point, he'd hallucinated the first few weeks of school and, most especially, the day on the beach. She couldn't have been as fiery or passionate, sad or broken, as he remembered.

Nowadays the short skirts, combat boots, and ironic t-shirts were replaced with twinset sweaters, floral print tops, floaty skirts, baby-doll dresses and ballet flats. At one point he even saw a strand of pearls – fucking pearls – wound around her throat, and he wanted to punch something. Or someone. Feral creatures weren't meant to wear collars and she looked ridiculous. Of course when he shared his opinion during American History, Lilly, who now sat between them, had ripped him a new one; to her, dressing Veronica like a doll was her newest hobby and she didn't like anyone interfering with her project. The only jarring thing about Veronica's new image was her pixie haircut. The curly strands fought restraints and seemed the only outward sign she wasn't an 09er clone.

Logan knew he should look away because prolonged attention to Veronica threatened to dismantle his appearance of indifference he'd carefully cultivated, but it was surprisingly hard, especially when her bare nape taunted him so. He had a type - blonde, thin, and stacked - which wasn't surprising in a surfer boy from sunny So-Cal, but she wasn't his type despite fulfilling two of the three main qualities. Hell, he didn't think she was anyone's type, unless they liked their females tiny, feisty, and infuriating, though Logan distantly knew he was being ridiculous because of course someone would want her, but he wasn't that someone.

On the other hand, it really should be illegal for a girl's neck to be so seductively elegant, and he'd like to go on record that he didn't approve of Veronica's new hair cut because it revealed an intriguing array of freckles at the side of her throat. It was a sign post lit up in neon stating "press suction here."

"Dude, why do you keep glaring at Ronica?"

"Who?" he snapped, without turning his attention away from the smirking girl. Even at this distance he could tell by her expression she was inwardly mocking the boy Lilly had dragged her to meet. Homecoming was next weekend and he knew from the conversation earlier that Veronica didn't have a date yet, which naturally Lilly had to rectify.

"Ronica."

"Her name is Veronica." Ronica was Lilly's creation and Logan instinctively rejected it. Dick's interruption, however, had the added benefit of breaking his concentration so he switched his gaze to his friend.

Dick looked puzzled. "That's what I said."

"No, you said -" Logan stopped, nearly face-palming himself when he realized he was arguing with Dick. No one argued with him because it wasn't worth the expended air to get him to understand something. "Never mind. I'm not glaring at her; I was just thinking and she happened to be in the same direction I was looking."

An obvious untruth, but the beauty of Dick was his inability to parse truth from lies or sarcasm from sincerity. He wasn't stupid, so much as oblivious. He rose above the likes of Corny the resident Neptune High stoner due to his coveted zip code address, but in reality he was a Kushian broheim in spirit and would probably create tasteless bongs in class too if Logan wasn't around to stop him.

And so what if he was glaring? It wasn't right for Lilly to take Veronica over to one of the lesser tables (see any table not in the coveted second level courtyard) to introduce her to Sean Friedrich, an 09er who hadn't quite made it into the upper echelons of high school society despite his family's wealth. He was subtly ostracized because though he came from money, he hated spending any of his own, always mooching off everyone else. While that wasn't unexpected in an 06er or an 02er, it was puzzling behavior in an 09er.

Lilly, however, could raise his status by merely talking to him, such was the power she wielded. Sean wouldn't have been Logan's first choice because that meant he'd be included in whatever plans the group made, but according to the girls' gossip, anyone else even remotely acceptable was either coupled or already had date for the dance. A breathless giggle drew his attention back to the unlikely trio, and he saw the mocking expression had faded from Veronica's face, replaced by a vapid wide-eyed one as if she was even remotely interested in whatever stupid shit Sean was spouting off now. He'd had conversations with the guy before and was bored within seconds; it was highly doubtful Sean had changed enough to be witty and deserving of anything less than derisive laughter.

"Why are you glaring at my sister?"

"Duncan, he's not glaring at Lilly. He's glaring in Ronica's direction while thinking."

"Why is he thinking in Ronica's direction?"

"He's probably trying to figure out which girl to take to the dance," Dick helpfully pointed out.

And it was true. Logan had the pick of Neptune's finest, even those already otherwise engaged if he wished, though so far he hadn't made a choice.

"I thought he was taking Caitlyn to the dance."

"Maddie, I heard they broke up," Kim whispered, though her whispers were generally loud enough to be heard across a football field.

"Oh no wonder she's been out sick this week. God, how humiliating for her!"

Logan was glad he was faced away from his lunch companions so they didn't see his eye-rolling; he was sitting right there. Did the girls think he couldn't hear them? He'd hooked up with Caitlyn Ford a couple times during parties in the past few weeks and somehow it meant they were dating. Logan hadn't truly cared what anyone else thought; he was getting an itch scratched and was gentlemanly enough to keep quiet when people assumed otherwise. There was only room for one woman in his life, and Caitlyn wasn't her.

He did have to admit that the rumors of their so-called break up were funnier than hell, especially the one where he caught her sneaking around with her PCH pool boy. Apparently he had no problem with her being a gold-digger, but a gold-digging tramp? Yeah, no thanks, he had some standards.

In reality, Caitlyn and he didn't have much in common except their bank accounts and drunken need to fuck, but he'd tired of her whiny "oh god, deeper, harder, right there baby," so last Saturday night he'd ignored her and spent his time unobtrusively keeping track of Veronica. It was the first time she'd joined them in their "frat-like debaucheries" (her description, not his) and it had frankly surprised him given her history, but as the night wore on, it became clear she'd only come because she caved to Lilly's pressure, and not out of any desire to party. At least watching her had kept him from seeing a prowling Lilly disappear into a back room with some douche-nozzle; he'd only heard about her hook-up much later when Dick had congratulated him on not flying off the handle and breaking another dude's face. Logan had taken the congratulatory slap on the back because he couldn't exactly confess he hadn't noticed; Dick might get the wrong idea about his interest in Veronica.

"Logan are you going to eat your half of the pizza?"

Pain sizzled along overly-sensitive nerve endings when Duncan shifted closer and bumped Logan's shoulder in a bid to get his attention, and Logan winced as his friend inadvertently touched the edges of the wound he'd sustained two nights ago. He was eternally thankful October was cool enough for him to wear layers which disguised the bulk of his thick bandages.

"Yeah," he muttered, the pain still heavy in his voice, though to everyone else it probably sounded like irritation. He spun around in his seat and grabbed a slice with his right hand, the motion nearly unbearable but necessary since he wasn't a leftie and he had an image to uphold. "I think I'm gonna go stag to the dance." He'd honestly prefer to just skip the damn thing, but his friends' girlfriends were stoked to go, and, according to Dick "means free pussy without pouting." The things he did for friends, man.

"You can't!" Lilly shrieked from behind him, startling him enough to drop his pizza. She leaned against her brother. "We need to have even numbers and you'll be the odd man out."

"So? Maybe I just won't go."

Logan had no intention of staying home because there was no fun in drinking alone – something about it just smacked of alcoholicism – but it was fun to rattle Lilly. He hadn't expected much from Veronica's pledge to talk to his ex, but apparently something went down because Lilly wasn't as mean as usual after a breakup. If anything, he recognized the signs of her wanting to try again. Or fuck him – it wouldn't be the first time she fucked him while still dating someone else (at least he thought she might be dating someone else though it was even harder to keep track of her revolving bedroom door than his). Hell, he'd banged her behind the back of the same guy she banged behind Logan's back when they were dating. It was very day time soap opera of her, but he was willing to take his kicks where he could get them.

"We could go together."

Everyone stilled as Veronica piped up, her reappearance as unexpected as Lilly's.

"What about Sean?"

Veronica snorted. "Like I'm going to suffer that asshole."

Logan smirked at her over his shoulder. "What makes you think I'll go with you? I mean, you're quite a comedown after Caitlyn."

"Really? I heard she routinely went down on anyone who wasn't you."

"At least she was an actual 09er instead of a pretender," Logan said dismissively, distantly aware of his heart-beat ratcheting up.

Veronica plopped down next to him, ignoring Kim's squawk as she was forced to move over. She reached out and picked the pepperoni off his slice before popping it into her mouth. "Pretender I may be, but at least I wasn't caught at the Neptune Grand in flagrante delicto with my pool boy on your dime."

The saccharine sweet smile accompanying the jab was distracting enough he didn't notice the insult until he heard everyone's in-drawn breath.

"A gentleman never kisses and tells."

"Fortunately I'm talking to you," she retaliated, the light of battle gleaming in her Union-blue eyes.

A sharp noise startled Logan away from Veronica and he glanced around for the source of the noise: Lilly's hands fell away from one another and he realized she'd clapped near his ear like he was a dog.

"Ronica, you're going with Sean and Logan will go with me."

Veronia side-eyed him a moment, then slowly shook her head. "Nah, Lils. I already told you I'm not going to the dance."

Madison snorted. "More like you can't afford to go."

Which was more than likely true since the dance was being held at the Neptune Yacht Club so unless she got a date to pay for it, there was no way she could afford the price of a ticket. Logan, as a life-long member, wouldn't even need to buy anything from the Homecoming Committee because he could just get in for free.

"Your point?"

"You're poor."

"At least there's hope for improving poverty. None for stupidity."

Logan nearly succumbed to laughter when Madison proved Veronica's point by clearly not getting her insult.

"Maddie, shut up. Ronica, you're going."

Veronica sighed. "Lilly, I know you don't hear this often if at all, but no. Just no. I'm starting a new job so there's no way I can ask for time off, especially for something as frivolous as a dance."

"Then why ask Logan to go with you if you weren't going anyway?"

Dick's habitual look of confusion had deepened.

"It's called a joke," she patiently explained. "Even if I weren't working, I wouldn't go with him."

"As if I would accept from the likes of you."

Veronica pulled a pen out from the small unobtrusive purse tucked under her arm and grabbed a napkin from the middle of the table. Logan craned his neck curiously to see what she was doing. A moment later she held up one side with a large seven written on it.

"This is for the dripping disdain," and she flipped the napkin to show a three. "This is for execution. You can insult me better than that."

Logan pondered it for a moment then shrugged. "Not worth my time."

"That's what she said."

"Really, you're going with that joke? It was played out the first time it was used."

"So was Caitlyn."

"Jealous much?"

"Of 110 pounds of fake tits and bleached hair? I think not."

"The lady doth protest too much."

"Wow, what a difference a little time makes. I go from guttersnipe to lady." Veronica batted long eyelashes at him coyly. He was so entranced – no, wrong word brain – his normal situational awareness failed him and he wasn't able to avoid Lilly's clamping her hand down on his injured shoulder. Even as he jerked away from the touch, elbowing her aside as he did so, Logan knew that Lilly didn't know what she'd done, but he couldn't apologize right now because it was taking all of his reserves to keep the scream from escaping his mouth. He hadn't been surfing recently so there was no way he could explain away an injury, especially one so close to the last round of bruising both Dick and Duncan had seen. Though even surfing wouldn't explain this one.

Everyone's voices sounded muted and dulled, the way sound did when water clogged his ears, so Logan kept his gaze trained on Veronica's face, marginally aware her expression had sharpened with concern. He struggled not to pass out from the pain in front of God and country (or, his friends and the students on break), so he had no spare brain cells to contemplate what caused that emotion in her.

"I told him not to mix those pills," Veronica's voice suddenly cut through, but mostly because she was pressed up under his other shoulder, helping him to his feet. He sensed someone else reaching out and he reacted instinctively, plastering himself against the smaller blond so to avoid any more bad touch. They swayed as she wasn't expecting his full weight, but then they steadied, and she somehow got him from behind the table bench.

Time jumped a little because suddenly they were in the shade away from prying eyes. He couldn't explain how he always knew when people were watching other than an itching sensation between his shoulder blades; it had faded which meant it was just the two of them. She pressed him down to his back which helped with the nausea and propped his head up on her lap. Since there wasn't concrete or gravel beneath him, she'd obviously made it to the other side of the quad where there was a small grassy knoll.

"Are you okay Logan?"

"Yes?" he slurred a little.

"That's reassuring," she muttered, though not quietly since he could hear it.

"Nuthin wrong."

"You were fine then suddenly you weren't. That's not "nuthin.""

He couldn't tell her. He couldn't tell anyone. He tried once and the result had actually made everything worse. It also taught him a valuable lesson: don't rely on anyone but yourself.

"I took some pills."

"Uh huh." Her eyes followed the aborted movement of his hand, which he'd belatedly stopped from going to the wounded shoulder. He could feel slimy moisture and wanted to find out if the scab had broken, but doing it in front of her would mean he'd have to deal with questions he didn't know how to answer.

Life's a shell game kid, a familiar and hated voice whispered from his childhood, you gotta distract your opponent with one hand so they ignore what the other hand is doing.

Narrowing his focus to Veronica's face overhanging his, he reached out with his good arm and gently stroked the freckles he'd noticed earlier (as soon as he saw her the first time after her haircut). "You're pretty."

"You're in pain," she retorted quietly, though the compliment daubed her normally pale cheeks with a hint of rose.

"I'm not blind."

"Just slightly feverish. You're sweating."

"Doesn't mean I don't know a pretty girl when I see her."

"Doesn't mean I will buy this charming act when I can tell you're trying to avoid my questions."

"You're pretty, I'm charming, we're a song away from becoming a Disney movie."

The compressed line of her lips showed she was done bantering. "Logan, you helped me with a problem. Let me help you."

Maybe it was the earnestness of her true-blue eyes, or maybe it was the pain still scrambling his brains, but Logan nodded once, wordlessly gesturing to the source of his agony.

Veronica was gentle as she helped him sit up to strip him of his outer shirt and slowly pull up the undershirt until she could see the large swath of bandages taped down. He couldn't turn his head to look when she peeled it back to reveal the six inch burn covering the width of his shoulder; Lilly had managed to dig into the center of the scab and pussy blood leaked through the ragged tear.

"Who did this to you?"

Such fury weighted each word, sparks of fire nearly spitting from her eyes as she glowered at him. Well, not him, but his skin.

"Girl I was fucking liked wax-play and it got a little out of hand."

The lie sounded smooth and plausible.

"Bullshit."

Or maybe not.

"I know what a curling iron burn looks like, Logan." I'm not an idiot was unspoken, but echoed meaningfully.

He couldn't do his normal insouciant shrug for various reasons, starting and ending with oh god the fucking pain, so he flicked an eyebrow her way. "How is this any of your business?"

"Whoever did it to you wanted maximum pain because not only did they roll the length of the barrel against you, they also pressed hard and deep."

He knew, he was there.

"No clue what you're talking about, but keep going with your bogus theory."

"I'd say Caitlyn trying to get a little revenge, but I know you were only fuck buddies and not really dating, so there was no grand break up or need to retaliate for your asshole-ish behavior."

"Maybe I broke up with her."

"Right, cause that's your M.O."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Veronica ignored his question, preferring to return to the subject at hand. "Lilly could possibly be mean enough to do it, but I doubt you'd hold still even for her."

"Even for her?"

"Logan, you're a masochist and she's a sadist, so I can see you submitting to her if you thought that would get her back."

"Back the fucking truck, you think I'm that fucking desperate for pussy I'd allow anyone to do that to me?"

"No," she admitted quietly. "Maybe that desperate for love."

TBC