Sometimes
Chapter 23 - Day 7 - Rammer Jammer
A/N: It's my birthday! Yay! For all of you, a new chapter. For me, a day at Cedar Point. Best amusement park in the world. Or at least on the North coast.
A/N2: I have good news and bad news. The bad news is that I had to split the chapter again. Trust me. It was the last thing I wanted to do, but by the time I pasted all of the separate POVs into a single word document, the chapter was at 20,000 words. I could never post a chapter that large. Worse news: my favorite parts are in the second half. The good news is that the second half is written and beta'd. It's ready to go. I'll hold it for a week to buy myself some time to work on Neptune, and then I'll post it next weekend. Just hope I can hold your interests with this part.
A/N3: I adore Logan Echolls. I adore Wade Kinsella. However, I'm fairly positive that these two would loathe each other on sight. Opinions of these characters towards each other do not, in any way, reflect the opinions of the author.
Previously: The Neptune Three stage an elaborate public appearance, and lay clues sending the police (and hopefully Liam) up North to Chicago. They leave Dallas, but only make it as far as Bluebell, Alabama before a belt brakes on their truck. Forced to stay for the night, they are cajoled into spending the evening at the local bar, The Rammer Jammer. Logan reminds Veronica of the bet they made in Dallas that he could make her jealous, the stakes being, if he wins, she has to kiss him at a time of his choosing. They meet some of the wacky locals, including Duncan-clone, George Tucker, high-strung, Lemon Breeland, sweet Annabeth, and Wade Kinsella, who can't seem to keep track of his shirt. Duncan eats a cheeseburger.
Duncan
For a person like Duncan Kane, the concept of instant infatuation was troubling. He'd waited two years to approach Veronica romantically, and had only been killing time with Shelly Pomroy (a fact that made him uncomfortable). Hell, even his celebrity crushes were well thought-out – girls famous for their intelligence and charitable efforts as much as for their beauty.
Annabeth upset his equilibrium. He couldn't find anything wrong with her. In fact, were somebody to ask Duncan to design his ideal girl, she would meet – or exceed – all requirements.
Her friends? Not so much.
He'd been enjoying learning more about her when Cricket and Betty interrupted their conversation to insist she weigh-in on the urgent matter of declaring which retail establishment purveyed the best Sunday hats.
Cricket insisted 'Buttons and Bows' sold the most beautiful creations in a five-county area, while Betty derided their shoddy construction and recommended 'Old Juniper Place', where hats were built to last for generations. Annabeth, attempting to mediate, endorsed 'Collettes' for a 'best of both' approach to both quality and style.
He excused himself and joined Logan, who was at the bar, shoving popcorn in his mouth and watching the band play a pretty good rendition of Bonnie Raitt's 'I Can't Make You Love Me' – a song that had always made Duncan vaguely uneasy.
"You switched to beer?" Duncan asked, flicking his eyes to the brown glass bottle in Logan's hand. The mouthwatering aroma of broiling hamburgers was stronger over here, and he considered ordering a second one.
Not a smart idea. I'll probably pay for eating the first one.
"Dude, it's like 90 degrees even with the AC on. Beer tastes colder going down." Logan caught the attention of Shelly the bartender, wiggled his bottle, and held up two fingers. "So…I noticed you and Annabelle getting along pretty well. Think you're gonna hook up?"
"Annabeth," Duncan corrected. "…and she's not a one-night-stand kind of girl."
Shelly returned with two beers, and Logan handed one to Duncan before tossing some cash on the bar.
"That's what they all say." Logan clinked his beer bottle against Duncan's. "So why you wasting your time?"
"What? I like her."
"Dude, we can't stick around for you to woo her, or whatever it is you think you need to do. We're leaving in the morning."
Duncan ducked his head. "Don't you ever just want to get to know somebody? With no ulterior motive?"
"Why would I? I know you, and I know V. Why do I need to know anybody else?"
Duncan used his index finger to connect the drops of condensation on his beer bottle. "Just because...I don't know...people are interesting?"
Logan had a smirk for every occasion. This one – eyes crinkled, lips curled only fractionally – typically meant he was indulgently amused. "So tell me about the amazing Annabeth."
"Why? So you can rip her apart?"
Logan lifted a single brow.
"Fine. She's special. Actually, she's everything I want in a girl – beauty, brains, personality. She's an over-achiever, like me, but she's also different. She's likes to have fun."
"Marry her," Logan deadpanned. "Maybe she'll help you with that stick problem."
"What stick problem?"
Logan leaned over and looked pointedly at Duncan's butt.
"Ha. Ha," Duncan said, dryly. "And quit checking out my ass."
"How can I, when you're displaying it so perfectly in those jeans?" Logan fluttered his lashes.
"Shut up." Duncan groaned.
Logan made a dramatic 'shucks' arm gesture. "So you're crazy about this girl you met five minutes ago, and will never see again after tomorrow."
"Maybe we could come back someday…" he trailed off, not knowing how to continue. "Or maybe..." He shrugged.
Logan peeled at the label of his beer bottle with an expression of intense concentration, though whether he was contemplating something or trying extra hard to remove the label in one piece (one of his odd superstitions) Duncan couldn't say.
Logan's voice sounded hoarse when he finally spoke. "Are you saying you want us to leave you behind?"
"No! I didn't—"
"Because..." Logan cut him off. "You could be really happy here, ya know? You'd fit right in. With your nice girl, and your new best friend, George Tucker. The Norman Rockwell existence you've always dreamed of."
"I never said—"
Logan continued, now avoiding Duncan's eyes. "You'd be a natural with all of that community spirit stuff. But V and I? We don't belong here. We're not nice people."
"Sure you are."
"Really? How long do you think it would it take her to pull her taser on someone? Or for me to start a fight?"
"Or..." Duncan said, annoyed at this line of questioning. "...you could grow the hell up and stop acting like an asshole."
"Or...we bring Liam Fitzpatrick's wrath down upon these nice people."
Duncan turned away, chest tightening in shame.
"One of us could blend in here, but not all three of us," Logan said, quietly. "You could stay. You should stay."
The painful lump in his throat and the tingling of his sinuses were warning signs he was about to start crying like a little girl any second now.
Man up, Duncan. Never show weakness in front of Logan.
He wrestled his voice into something resembling sarcasm. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you were trying to get rid of me."
Logan gripped his wrist, his eyes flashing with intensity, voice lowered. "What I want is for you to be happy. The minute we drove into this town, I knew you belonged here."
Duncan couldn't argue. At first sight of the town square, with the white painted buildings and wholesome citizens, he'd felt as if he'd come home.
Logan continued. "D, you're my best friend. You think I want to leave you behind? There's nothing I want less, but I'd put my feelings aside for you to be safe and happy."
Do not let him see you cry. DO NOT let him see you cry.
Duncan flashed him a weak smile. "I appreciate that, man."
Logan nodded, and turned back to watch the band, currently playing Sheryl Crow's 'If It Makes You Happy'.
"You're wrong about Veronica, by the way," Duncan said. "She's a very nice person. She'd fit in here just fine."
Logan threw his head back and laughed. "Sure. Good luck finding a time machine to take you back to 2002."
Duncan scowled at him. "When we were dating..."
Logan gave him an odd look and shook his head in the negative. "She's not the same girl."
A shiver of déjà vu ran up Duncan's spine. Where have I heard that before?
He knew with a strange sense of certainty, that the next words out of Logan's mouth would be 'This one is mine'. Instead, he turned and beckoned Shelly to bring them two more beers.
They sat in silence for a few minutes, Logan watching the band, Duncan mesmerized by Logan's long fingers idly fondling the neck of his beer bottle.
And people said Lilly exuded sex. She worked hard to project that image. For Logan, it's as natural as breathing.
Duncan sighed, refusing to follow that train of thought. Moving on. "So which blonde you planning to hook up with?"
"Who? Those two?" Logan pointed at Betty and Crickett. "Neither."
"You could've fooled me. You looked like you were working them back at the table."
"I was working them," Logan smirked. "Doesn't mean I'm trying to hook up."
"Why would you want to do that?"
Logan looked as if was about to explain, and then changed his mind. "Let's just call it an experiment."
"You're an ass, Logan." Duncan chuckled.
"Strangely enough, I've actually been told that before."
"So...what? You holding out for a better offer?" Duncan asked. "Maybe one of them over there?" He nodded towards a group of minimally dressed girls – skimpy tank tops, short-shorts or micro-minis, cowboy boots. Several of them were eyeballing Logan.
"Nope, the Skank Squad is safe," Logan said. "I'm not looking to get laid tonight."
Duncan snickered in disbelief. "…Right...It's been over a week. I'm surprised you're not shaking uncontrollably and scratching at your arm."
"I take extra-long showers." Logan shrugged.
Duncan swallowed hard. Concentrated on Annabeth's face across the room.
"But you, my friend, have a room to yourself. There's no reason why you can't score with Annabeth. Need some tips on closing the deal?"
Duncan shook his head. "Eleven years of friendship, and you still don't get who I am."
"Oh, I know exactly who you are," Logan said, taking a long swig of beer before continuing. "And I think you'd be a lot more fun if you got laid every now and then."
"What? I should be a womanizer like you?"
"Nobody said you had to take it that far, but...I mean, you did bang Shelly Pomroy."
One of my more awkward life experiences.
"She was kind of insistent."
And then I screwed up and called her Veronica. Thank god that never got out.
Duncan took another sip of his beer, glancing out over their table. Veronica was animatedly talking with Wade, who was sitting excessively close. "Shouldn't we be worrying about that guy all over V?"
"No," Logan said, but the way he clenched his jaw said otherwise.
"Logan, just looking at that guy you can tell he's a man whore. Hell, he makes you look monogamous."
That caught his attention. "I am monogamous. At least when I'm in a relationship."
Duncan rolled his eyes. "Yeah…sure. Anyway, we have to warn her that he's bad news."
"Give her some credit. She's perfectly capable of telling the good guys from the bad guys."
"You sure about that? She forgave you for the past year."
Logan shot him a glare. "Guess that means I'll have to hand in my Villain Association membership card."
"But what's up with the whole cousin thing, anyway?" Duncan pressed.
Logan's let out a huff. "She wanted to have fun tonight without looking like she was attached."
"Why? I mean, why do you two even bother with the touchy-feely, holding-hands-in-public PDA stuff on the walk over, if you're just going to drop the act the minute we start talking to people?"
Something inside him told him he did not want the answer to that question.
Logan took leisurely chug of beer, wiped his mouth, and only then turned to Duncan, eyes intense and probing. "Come on D, you can't honestly believe that PDA stuff is only about maintaining the cover story."
The knot in Duncan's gut threatened to erupt like a volcano. His eyes became ice, and he had to white-knuckled his beer bottle in order to remain calm. "Are you saying you're fucking my ex?"
"No, I'm not fucking her!" Logan put up his hands, face twisting into a sneer. "God, what the fuck is your problem?"
Duncan breathed out and forced his body to relax. "Then what did you mean?"
Logan lowered his voice again. "She was five seconds away from being raped. The 'touchy-feely' stuff as you call it, makes her feel safe."
Well if he'd wanted to feel like a heel, he'd come to the right place. "She acts as if there's nothing wrong."
"Yeah, on the surface," Logan's voice softened. "You have to know what to look for. Actually, I'm surprised she's gone so long without checking in with us." He nodded his head to where Veronica was chatting with Wade.
Duncan still worried about Wade. "Just talk to her and make sure she's aware what that guy is after."
"I can't."
"Why not?" Duncan asked.
"Doesn't matter. Wide is coming this way now."
"Good. Say something to him," Duncan said.
"What?" Logan's eyes widened in surprise. "No."
"Why not? When have you ever backed down from a confrontation?"
"When have you ever encouraged me to get into one?"
He has a point. "I wouldn't, but this guy could mess up Ver—"
"Victoria?" Logan cut him off.
"Right."
"Well. Be my guest," Logan said,
"You're the one who likes fighting."
"I'll save my fighting for the Fitzpatricks. Just leave it be."
"What if he tries to use her?" Duncan persisted.
Logan turned to face him lowering his voice and began counting out points on his fingers. "Number one. Although I'm sure Wide has his charm, Victoria's smart enough not to fall for his game. Number two. She's having fun flirting. After being an outcast for the past year, the attention has to feel pretty damn good."
"That's why I'm worried. After all that, she's susceptible to being played. Hell Troy would have played her if he'd had the opportunity."
Logan's jaw clenched again, and Duncan remembered how he'd never liked Troy.
"Number three," Logan said with an air of finality. "Victoria's not leaving with anybody else. She and I made a pact to leave together."
"Ahhh…" Now it made sense. "So that's why you're not trying score? Doesn't that cramp your style or something?"
"What am I supposed to do? Leave her behind and let somebody take advantage of her while she's drunk? Again?"
Duncan felt as if all the air had been sucked from his lungs.
She told him about our night together? "What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, cautiously.
She thinks I took advantage? I was just as wasted as she was.
And why is Logan looking so guilty?
"Remember? Shelly's end of the year party?" Logan stared at his feet, aimlessly toeing at a stray piece of popcorn. When he glanced back up, his eyes were haunted. "The body shots? Don't you remember pulling her away from me?"
Duncan exhaled the breath he'd been holding. "Yeah. Vaguely. I don't really remember much from that night. I've never been so wasted in my life."
Logan let out a bitter laugh. "Yeah, I should probably tell you something—"
Whatever Logan had been about to say, he was cut off by Wade's loud twang as he approached from the left. "Shelly, we need two more pitchers of margaritas." He paused for a second, and then broke out in a huge grin. "Lavon freaking Hayes! How the hell are you man?"
The mountain-sized black man sitting to Logan's right turned around with an immense smile, sliding off the barstool, and pulling Wade into a bro-hug. "Wade Kinsella! Great to see ya, man."
"What're you doing here?"
"Eh...you know me. Lavon Hayes never misses a Bluebell Homecoming game," he said, in a voice that could sell lemon-lime soda in TV commercials.
Lavon Hayes also apparently refers to himself in the first person.
Duncan glanced at Logan with a raised eyebrow, but his BFF's head was tilted as if trying to figure something out.
Logan
Lavon Hayes?
At least 6'5, with the body structure of a semi-truck, the giant standing next to Logan made him look almost small in comparison. Lavon's crisp white button-down with faint gray pinstripes, was tucked into belted khakis, and an off-white straw panama hat dipped low on his forehead. He stood with a sense of ease and confidence.
I'm positive I've heard that name before.
At a loss, he decided to just ask. "Do I know you from somewhere?"
The man's eyes crinkled with warmth, and as he opened his mouth to answer, Veronica slid in between them, hip-checking Logan.
Right on schedule. Logan shot Duncan an I-told-you-so look.
"It's Lavon Hayes," she supplied. "NFL linebacker. Two Super Bowl wins, two Pro Bowls."
"Three Pro Bowls," Lavon corrected, in a deep Southern drawl.
"What?" she asked, catching Logan's smirk. "Baseball season only lasts so long, and my dad needs his testosterone TV." She reached out a hand to shake. "Victoria Marshall. My brother Declan, and my cousin, Nolan." She indicated both of them in turn.
"Pleasure," Lavon said, turning to the boys, his handshake firm and confident. A light woodsy scent emanated from him, which Logan couldn't name, but recognized as Casey Gant's cologne of choice.
Logan bumped Duncan aside in order to offer Veronica the high-backed wooden bar stool he'd been slouching against. Tilting it on one of its feet to turn it around, he braced her waist with his hands to help her up.
She's short. It's the gentlemanly thing to do.
He snagged another handful of popcorn from the large wooden bowl on the bar, and offered Veronica the first bite. She plucked some from his hand, but missed her mouth, dropping a few pieces on the floor.
Logan snickered and tossed the remaining buttery kernels in his own mouth.
"What happened to getting more drinks?" Veronica asked Wade.
Wade made an 'oops' gesture, grabbed one of the refilled margarita pitchers, and poured a glass for her.
Should I warn her to slow down on the alcohol? Would that even be fair in heat like this?
I'll just have to keep a close eye on her.
The band kicked in with an old Nina Simone song, conjuring an image of his mother all dressed up for a gala in a bronze evening gown and diamonds - still in denial that she'd been stood-up once again, although Aaron had been due home hours earlier.
The record had played on vinyl, while she'd swayed, eyes closed, a glass of regret on the rocks clutched in her hand. He'd wondered, as he slipped past the open doorway, who she was imagining as her dance partner.
"I put a spell on you. Cause you're mine."
His eyes flicked over to Veronica, who was watching him intently, an evil little grin playing on her lips. Hair lifted on the back of his neck, and for the first time since they'd started this little cat and mouse game, he experienced a trickle of fear.
She will rip me apart just to see how I'm put together.
He tilted his head in question, and she mirrored the gesture, amused.
"You better stop the things you do. I ain't lying."
Veronica slowly crossed her legs, drawing his attention to her shapely calves and the strappy, silver heels that made her feet look nearly naked. Ten blood red toenails stood out in contrast. Hard to believe mere days - not months - had passed since he'd carefully painted them in bed.
When he glanced back up, she wore a self-satisfied grin.
She's coming into her own.
Veronica was no longer the ingénue oblivious to her own beauty, nor was she merely the badass in boots who didn't need anybody. She was setting out bait and cataloging his reactions. Test driving her newfound ability to lead him around by the dick. It had to be the hottest thing he'd ever seen.
She owns me and she knows it.
Lilly would be so fucking proud.
She'd performed magic with her appearance, using makeup to create the illusion of a rounder face and slightly tilted eyes. A lip pencil subtly altered the shape of her lips, and a pink gloss made them appear fuller. Earlier, in the truck, he'd thought he'd caught a whiff of watermelon scent and intended to find out if the stuff was flavored as well. Soon. With the contact lenses, her eyes were nearly as brown as his own were, and the platinum wig spilled long bouncy waves over her shoulders. She was barely recognizable, but despite the changes, all Logan could see was Veronica. As if his brain could translate her image, substituting blue eyes and golden hair.
"How long have you three been in Bluebell?" Lavon asked. His kind eyes hid an underlying sharpness.
This guy is more observant than he appears.
"Oh, only for the night," Veronica said pulling her eyes away from Logan. "Our car broke down, and won't be fixed until the morning. Heard about the band..." She gestured to where the saxophonist was performing a solo, "...and thought we'd check it out."
Logan preferred to check out the bare skin above her strapless dress. Humidity looked beautiful on her, making the skin over her collar bone, neck, cheekbones and cleavage gleam.
God, I wish we were back at the B&B. Alone.
Doing what? Cuddling? Not like anything else would happen.
But cuddling is kind of nice.
His beer was behind her on the bar, and he placed his hand on her shoulder while reaching for it. Her eyes lifted and she searched his eyes for any hidden meaning.
Onstage the singer wailed "I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. Anyhow.
I don't care if you don't want me. I'm yours right now. "
Their gazes locked, and Logan's mouth went dry. Her cheeks were flushed pink, and she seemed to be frozen to the spot.
"I put a spell on you. Because you're mine."
"How y'all liking our fair town, so far?" Lavon asked.
Veronica broke away from Logan's gaze and took a long gulp of her drink. "I'd like it a lot more, if it wasn't so damn hot," she said, snatching a flat drinks menu from the bar to fan herself with.
"Oh right. You've never seen a proper Southern Autumn, huh?" Lavon's smile took over his entire face. "Well in that case, Lavon Hayes would like to welcome you to your first full-on Bluebell heat wave. Where 'hot and bothered' takes on a new meaning."
Veronica's eyes shot up to Logan's before quickly looking away.
Good to know we're on the same page when it comes to hot and bothered, but if we keep this up, this tension, Duncan's going to start catching on.
He turned to gauge Duncan's reaction, but his friend had already slipped away unnoticed, and was now back at the table deep in conversation with Annabeth.
Somebody's getting laid tonight.
If he'd ever take a chance.
Veronica shook her head. "So even you, NFL player, a man of the world, believe in this heat wave fever thing?"
Lavon leaned forward and lowered his voice as if to tell her something juicy. "All I can say is that people tend to go a little crazy around here this time of year."
Veronica tilted her head. "You're telling me a bad thing. But your manner indicates it's a good thing. Which is it?"
"Both."
"Heat wave's like a free pass to do whatever you want. What's not to like?" Wade said, his leer making it painfully clear what he wanted Veronica to want.
Logan visualized his fist connecting with Wade's nose, but that would only make him look jealous and lose the bet.
"Get ready to see half naked people doing full on crazy things. The fever hits everyone eventually." Lavon raised one eyebrow and waggled his finger back and forth between Logan and Veronica.
Wade's face screwed up in distaste. "Dude. They're cousins."
"Uh Huhhhh." Lavon dragged out the second syllable with a smirk on his lips and a teasing glint in his eyes.
Veronica's eyes flew up to Logan's again, and he answered her with his own eyes. No, I have no idea if he recognizes us.
But I'm pretty sure he's guessed how I feel.
She turned back to Lavon with an air of confidence and self-assurance. "Well, I for one, will not be participating in heat wave fever. My cousin can do whatever he chooses."
"Mmm hmm." Lavon gave a little nod, his eyes indicating that he knew better. "You'll see. Weather this hot, you can not fight your inhibitions, girl."
Enough with the lowered inhibitions talk, because if anybody can fight their inhibitions, it's Veronica.
Unfortunately.
Logan changed the subject. "So...you live here in the off season?"
"Yeah, I bought a house over on Dolly Lane when I first got drafted into the NFL. My parents live in the place now, but eventually, I have my eyes on the Mayor's Plantation."
Wade's eyes widened in surprise. "You're planning to go into politics?"
Lavon gestured towards his body. "This work of art can't hold up forever. Everybody needs a backup plan."
"Well that's just...fantastic!" Wade said. "I can already think of a few laws I want you to pass, starting with-"
Lavon held up a hand to stop him. "How about we leave city policy until I'm actually in office?"
"Fine man," Wade said. "But something needs to be done about those Belles and the way they think they can do any damn thing they please around here."
Lavon laughed. "I'll take that under advisement."
Veronica was staring at Lavon with something like awe on her face.
"What?" Lavon laughed nervously.
"I was just wondering…" Veronica started. "How much I would have to pay you to convince you to read my favorite books into a recorder."
At his confused expression, she clarified. "Your voice is magnificent. Like liquid velvet."
Lavon threw back his head and laughed heartily. "You," he pointed at her, "Ms. Marshall, are a charmer."
"Likewise."
"Well there you are, Victoria!" Lemon called, squeezing through the crowd to join them. She smelled clean and citrusy, which Logan found amusing.
"Good evening, Miss Breeland," Lavon's demeanor changed from confident to bashful almost instantly.
Aww...Somebody has a crush!
"Why Lavon Hayes! What a delight!" Lemon drawled. "I would positively love to stay and chat with you, but I promised the girls I'd be right back with the margaritas." She reached for the two pitchers on the bar. "Looks like this one is half empty already," she said, looking pointedly at Wade. "Stop by the table to say hello to George, Lavon," she said turning to leave. "He'd be so happy to see you. Coming Victoria?"
"Sure," Veronica said, sliding off the stool and glancing once at Logan before moving away.
Lavon's eyes followed Lemon back to the table.
Lavon and Lemon sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S...how old am I, three?
Wade, on the other hand, did not. "See what I mean about those Belles?" he said, throwing up his hands dramatically. "They are menaces to society, and Lemon Breeland is the worst of the bunch."
"Huh?" Lavon snapped out of his daze.
"Wide do this. Wide do that. Wide get us more drinks. Widedon't you even think about putting your filthy paws on my pristine cousin."
"Or mine," Logan said, holding up an index finger.
Lavon's lips twitched in amusement, and Wade glanced up as if he'd forgotten Logan was still standing there.
"What was that, Justin Timberlake?" He gestured to Shelly for another pitcher of drinks.
Logan turned to face him with a pleasant expression on his face. "Well, Jethro Bodine, I was simply agreeing with Lemon's sentiment. You know, filthy paws? Pristine cousin?"
"How about you let Vicky decide for herself. She seems to like me just fine."
"I would, but then we'd have to go to through the ordeal of having Victoria flea dipped," he shook his head sadly. "The bugs should come off, but STD's lasts forever. I'm afraid we just can't afford to get that far off-schedule."
"Haven't you ever heard of multi-tasking?" Wade cast a judgmental glance over Logan's appearance. "Just drop her off for her cleaning while you're getting your spray tan and chest waxing."
Logan felt that trickle of adrenaline he always experienced before going into battle. "Chest waxing? I kind of took you for a 'rip-off-the-duct-tape' kind of guy. You know, earlier, when you whipped off your shirt in the middle of an eating establishment."
"Checking me out, pretty boy?"
"More like judging you." He pointed at a sign behind the bar. "If you concentrate really hard, you can sound out the words. But I'm a nice guy, so I'll help just this once. No shirt. No shoes. No service." He finished with a flourish of his hands.
"I don't know why you're in such a hurry anyway," Wade said. "I'm sure Lance and the rest of the Backstreet Boys will wait around for you."
Dumbass. Lance is in N' Synch. Not that I'd ever admit to that knowledge.
"Is this something you have a complex about?" Logan asked. "Tried out for a boy band and get rejected or something?"
"Yeah, they said I was too manly. I heard you took my spot."
"Dude. That's called breaking it gently. It wasn't your manliness, it was your cleanliness."
"What are you so afraid of man? That I'll take your cousin outside and do her in my truck?"
"No. I get it. You're a real Southern gentleman, right?"
"Damn right, I am."
"So you'd take her back to your trailer, and at least cook her some fried possum, before showing her your waterbed. Black sateen sheets, I'm guessing?"
"Blue, actually."
"Just remember, you have to kick the sheep out of bed before you take Victoria to your room."
Lavon grunted and turned to Wade for a reaction.
"Real funny," Wade said.
"And your sister," Logan added, helpfully.
"Ya know, of the two of us, you're the one unnaturally interested in his cousin's sex life." Wade shook his head, snatched the fresh margarita pitchers, and stormed away in a huff.
Logan turned to Lavon. "Sheesh. What a drama queen!"
Lavon's answering laugh and head shake was neither a confirmation nor a denial. He was about to speak, when something caught his eye and he smiled widely. "Excuse me," he said. "That's my old coach, and I need to go say hello."
Alone again.
Logan hopped onto Veronica's abandoned barstool, leaning against the bar.
On the other side of the room, Wade was nearly glued to Veronica's side as she waited with Lemon outside of the restroom.
I'm never going to win this jealousy bet if I don't start competing.
Nearby, the large party of girls Duncan pointed out earlier was emitting that 'looking-for-trouble' beacon often seen at bachelorette parties.
Must be the heat wave thing.
Three of the girls were staring at him and whispering. Most likely trying to decide who would approach him. He raised his beer in a salute, and they giggled.
He blew the air out of his cheeks. He wasn't sure when or how it had happened, but vapid giggling girls just didn't do it for him anymore. Swallowing the last of his beer, he turned around to order another, running straight into a face-full of cucumber-scented hair.
"Shit. Didn't see you there," he said, spitting out a mouthful of the singer's curls. "Excellent choice, by the way."
Up close, he found her more attractive than she'd appeared on stage, but couldn't put a finger on it. Her face would be considered plain by most, but his dick twitched and he shivered in excitement when his eyes connected with her green cat's eyes. She possessed an untamed, feral quality that intrigued him. Her demeanor was a contradiction of 'I'm-too-good-for-this-place' and 'I'd-rather-be-getting-down-and-dirty'. She didn't possess an hourglass figure, but her ample rack made up for it. She smelled of seduction - oriental spices, amber, and vanilla.
"Choice of what?" she asked. On stage, the guitarist had taken over vocals and was belting out 'Sweet Home Alabama'. Probably required for every performance.
"Shampoo," Logan answered. "François Lefevre, I believe? Your hair is much softer than it looks, by the way. Doesn't taste too great, though."
"What did you expect, wire bedsprings?"
Logan shrugged. "Maybe."
"That line can't possibly work for you." She arched an eyebrow.
Logan smirked. "Strangely enough, almost everything does."
Her eyes traveled the length of his body with an appreciative glint. "Actually, not too hard to believe." He had to adjust his pants when she turned away and waved the bartender over. "Gin and tonic, please."
Logan put up a hand. "Make that two. I'm buying." When Shelly reached for a bottle, he stopped her, pointing at the top shelf. "Make it the good stuff."
"No comments about gin being a man's drink?" the singer challenged. Her voice was husky, which Logan found almost as sexy as her eyes.
"I happen to like girls who are secure in their masculinity," he said with a wink, and surreptitiously scanned the room for Veronica. She was back at the table twirling her hair at Wade.
Ha! Busted! Veronica Mars would never ever twirl her hair at a guy unless she was playing 'Amber' or one of her other alter-egos. She's SO faking it.
He couldn't help but grin.
"Your drinks," Shelly said, and Logan tossed some money on the bar, turning back to the singer.
"You know, you're not old enough to be drinking that…" she leaned close and whispered in his ear. "...Logan."
Logan pulled away, eyes wide. "I have to go." He moved to slide of the stool, but she held him back with a hand pressed to his thigh.
"Relax. I'm not going to say anything. I'm Chessie, by the way. Like the train."
"Nolan," Logan answered, taking note of possible exits. "I need to get the others and get out of here. Now."
She pressed on his thigh more firmly, leaning in to whisper. "Nobody is going to recognize you."
"You did."
"I did," she said. "But it just so happens my wicked step-mother has a shrine to your daddy." She shuddered. "Can't visit my dad without tripping over trashy tabloids featuring your family."
"You're right."
"About what?"
"She is wicked. Why my dad of all people?"
"Don't ask me," Chessie shrugged. "You're clearly the superior Echolls."
"Ahh…flattery will get you…wait, where do you want to it to get you?"
With a suggestive glint, she flicked her eyes down at his jeans. "Everywhere?" She smirked, raising a single eyebrow.
Logan swallowed. "Yeah, I think that was the term I was looking for."
"So what's up with the shampoo?" Chessie asked. "You wander the salons memorizing the aromatic properties of styling products? Or are you secretly aspiring to become a stylist?"
Logan laughed. "Well, I can't say it's an uncommon occurrence for girls to get their hair in my mouth, but I recognized the scent. One of the exes used that stuff occasionally. She had it in her shower."
"Did you sneak in and use some of it?"
"Only on her."
His gut churned in sadness.
None of that. This is not the time or place.
"Lilly Kane?"
He started, shocked to hear Lilly's name from a stranger's mouth.
Wicked stepmother. Tabloid junkie. Actor's son. Dead girl's boyfriend.
He shrugged his shoulders.
The one and only.
He took a sip of his beer, and when he turned back to Chessie, he almost choked on it.
Like seeing a ghost.
The green eyes. The swagger. The aura of danger. That's why she seems so familiar.
This one's from Lilly's tribe. An elder, maybe.
'Sweet Home Alabama' was ending and Chessie squeezed Logan's thigh before sliding off her stool.
"So hey, I have to get back up on stage. Stick around. I'll get a longer break in about an hour."
"I'll be here. Probably."
He watched his ex-girlfriend walk away in someone else's body.
Lilly's eyes. Lilly's shampoo. Lilly's walk. But does she fuck like Lilly?
If he had to guess, he'd say even better.
I should just get V and get the fuck out of here, before I do something I'll regret.
Veronica
Wade Kinsella is a player.
Even in her tipsy state, Veronica would have to blind to miss that tidbit. From his lazy smile to his practiced swagger, this was a man used to getting women into bed with little to no effort. Despite that, she found him endearing and charming, as he entertained her with stories of his high school exploits - protesting loudly, when George would butt in to call him on his penchant for exaggeration.
He reminded her of Logan in many ways. Both could be described as 'chick magnets'. Both were bad boys. Both had a flair for the dramatic. Wade seemed to lack Logan's emotional depth, however, and possessed a playfulness she hadn't witnessed in Logan since even before Lilly's death.
I miss that side of him.
Wade chattered on, tapping out a three-count beat to 'Sweet Home Alabama' as Veronica's gaze swept the room.
At the far end of the table, Duncan was deep in conversation with Annabeth, his eyes brighter and more animated than they'd been since their breakup a year ago.
I should be bothered by the fact that he seems really into this girl. Yet...I'm not.
She acknowledged to herself that her ability to genuinely wish happiness for Duncan with other girls meant she was officially over him. Unfortunately, they would be leaving first thing in the morning, and he'd never get to see Annabeth again.
Never say never. Maybe once everything dies down?
Logan, still at the bar, was chatting with the band's brunette singer. The woman leaned close to whisper something in his ear, and...
"Did she just put her hand on his thigh?" Veronica hadn't meant to speak so sharply.
Wade followed the direction of her stare. "Yep, looks like it."
"She's wasting her time. She's not his type at all. The complete opposite, in fact."
"I'd say," Wade said with a snicker.
Her head whipped around. Had Wade figured out about her and Logan?
What about me and Logan? There is no me and Logan.
"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked.
"She has boobs." He made a gesture at his chest as if hitching up a set of double-D's.
Veronica took a sip of her frozen lime margarita, running her thumb over the smooth glass. Is that some kind of slam against me?
"What?" Wade asked, taking in her confusion. "You didn't realize your cousin was gay?"
"Gay?" She nearly spit out her drink. Funny, he doesn't kiss like he's gay. "He's not gay."
"You sure about that?"
She nodded. "Positive. What makes you think he's gay?"
"Have you seen his hair? He took off his hat for a second, and...Let's just say I'm just surprised he didn't have frosted tips or something."
You don't get many Californians around here, do you?
"Frosted tips?" Veronica's nose crinkled in distaste. "That's like so four days ago!" Literally.
"Plus, you ever notice his hands?" Wade held up his own and wiggled them in a very Logan-like gesture. "You can't trust a guy with soft hands - all manicured and stuff, with no callouses. It's like he's never done a day of work in his life."
Veronica laughed aloud at his accidental insight. Logan and hard labor? Not a chance.
But his hands...She'd felt his hands. On her skin. On her neck. On her hands. Her feet. Her back. "He has callouses," she said. "A few."
"Oh yeah? From what, the hairspray trigger?"
She smirked. "PlayStation controller."
Wade opened his mouth as if to protest the legitimacy of PlayStation induced callouses, (while surreptitiously examining his own fingers), and then closed it, apparently having disproven his intended argument.
"He's not gay," Veronica repeated, glancing back at Logan. His eyes were fixated on the brunette, who was sliding off her stool. Squeezing his thigh with her hand.
Something ugly took shape inside Veronica, and she had to bite her tongue to silence the low growl at the back of her throat.
She's not his type at all.
So why is he watching her walk away like that?
No sooner had the singer returned to the mic, than three more girls closed in on Logan.
These ones are much more his type.
Her attention was diverted by the bartender's arrival with another pitcher of drinks. "Wade, I need your help in the back for a few minutes." She scowled at the collection of empty pitchers on the table and gathered three of them, nodding for Wade to collect the rest.
"You do realize this is my night off?" He rose from his chair with a put-upon sigh. "I'll be back," he told Veronica before sauntering off.
"How's the bet going?" Lemon asked as she refilled Veronica's nearly empty glass with the icy green concoction.
How many has it been already?
Veronica shrugged - hopefully not too petulantly - and nodded towards the bar.
Lemon's cringe indicated the news wasn't good.
"What?"
"Kelsey Kellog. I'm not a fan."
"What's so bad about Kelsey?"
"Oh, she was just horrid in high school. One of those mean girls who weren't happy unless they were bringing everybody else down."
Ahh…Bluebell's version of Madison Sinclair.
"I showed her, though," Lemon said. "To this day, she'll take the long way around to avoid running into me."
So how about you go chat with Logan and run her off? "What did you do?"
She lowered her voice conspiratorially. "Let's just say that in high school, revenge was kind of my thing." She glanced over at George with a soft smile on her face. "We had some great times back then."
Lemon filled Veronica in on some of the best pranks she, George and Wade had pulled off against Kelsey Kellogg and other deserving members of the Cyrus Lavinius Jeremiah Jones High School student body. "The key to revenge is specificity," she said in a low voice. "You have to understand the psyche of the person you're dealing with."
Veronica shuddered. "You sound like...Nolan. He had similar tactics, although he only used them against me."
"Against you?" Lemon sounded appalled.
"Oh yeah," Veronica glanced up at Logan again. "We had quite the feud going. We've gotten over it, though."
I'm pretty sure.
"Then it must be true what they say about love and hate," Lemon said in her musical voice, "Because you're obviously madly in love with him now."
"I am?"
"Well of course you are, silly. He's your fiancé. And the way you look at him…well anybody with eyes could see. Except for Wade. He's kind of oblivious sometimes."
Veronica felt her cheeks flushing.
She's crazy, but it's not as if I can just say: 'You're wrong. I'm not in love with the guy who's supposed to be my fiancé.'
"Yeah, he's my little…" What? Logie Bear? Gag! Sweetie? Stud Muffin? Double Gag! "…Jackass," Veronica answered in an affectionate tone.
The band launched into K.T. Tunstall's 'Black Horse and a Cherry Tree'.
'Well my heart knows me better than I know myself so I'm gonna let it do all the talking.'
Yeah…right. If I let my heart do the talking, I'd probably end up pressed up against another building with Logan's mouth…
She shivered and changed the subject. "So what's next on your revenging hit list? Anything good?"
Lemon's demeanor shifted as if she'd aged ten years overnight. "No," she said, shaking her head. "That's the old me. I can't afford to be reckless anymore. I have to take care of my daddy and my sister, Magnolia. She's seven."
"Oh. I'm sorry. Did your mom…?"
"No. She's alive. "Lemon's chin lifted in a show of false bravado. "She…uh…just decided to pursue other opportunities."
Veronica's gut clenched in sympathy. "I've been there," she said quietly, covering Lemon's hand in her own. "My mom took off in the middle of the night, and I haven't seen her since."
What's up with the over-sharing, Veronica? Could it be the magical green liquid?
Lemon glanced at Veronica with the understanding of a kindred spirit. Then her eyes narrowed. "But your brother over there was just telling us that your mom was an Assistant DA in Seattle."
Fucking Duncan!
"No, um...we actually have two different moms. We share a father. His mom is the lawyer. Mine is just a…" Lush? Adulterer? Abandoner? "Unemployed."
"Oh…" Lemon's eyes softened. "I thought he'd said 'our mother', but maybe I misheard..." She trailed off as something caught her eye and she stiffened. "Uh oh, don't look now."
"What?" George asked, alerted by her tone of voice.
In lieu of an answer, Lemon nodded her head at five guys entering the bar.
"Oh hell," George said, rubbing at his forehead.
"What?" Veronica asked.
"Todd Gainey, Jr.," Lemon said, pointing at the bowlegged man in the middle with trouble written across his face. Of average height, he had brown shoulder-length hair, a mustache and a thick beard. "He's from our neighboring town of Fillmore – our arch-rivals both on and off the field. His daddy's the mayor there."
Veronica recalled from the Homecoming signs on the wall, that Fillmore was also their opponent in this weekend's big game.
"And he's Wade's arch-rival," George supplied.
"There's bad blood going all the way back to their childhood," Lemon said.
"Why?"
"The Gainey brothers used to make fun of Crazy Earl," George answered.
"Crazy Earl?"
George pointed to the solitary old man with wild hair on the dance floor dancing 'The Macarena' to The Rolling Stones' 'Paint It Black'. "Wade's father."
"I have a bad feeling about this," Lemon said. "I hope things don't get ugly."
Logan
Kelsey Kellog smelled as if she'd bathed in cheap perfume before leaving the bordello. Heavy, cloying 'please-fuck-me-I'm-desperate' cologne he would have retreated from - if he wasn't already backed against the bar.
She stood in front of him - all 5'3 of tan, bleached blonde 'head-bitch-in-charge' attitude - demanding his attention. Flanking her was Amanda, much prettier, with honey colored hair, large blue eyes, and the intellect of a bag of Skittles. On her right, Ingrid, the stereotypical jealous 'first runner-up', put up a valiant effort to hijack the conversation.
The conversation I'm not actually listening to.
Logan shifted, stretching out his long legs and leaning enough to the left to have Veronica and Wade in his sightline again. Now that he'd cracked her code – head tilts, hair twirls, breathless girly voice - it was obvious she was only pretending to be interested in Wade. She was working him, just like she'd worked Danny Boyd. Just like any other mark.
Funny. She always acts like herself when she's pretending to be my fiancée.
Shelly, the bartender carried a pitcher of frozen margarita over to Veronica's later, Wade stood and followed her to the back room.
If he could so easily see through Veronica's charade with Wade, she surely wouldn't buy that his interest in Ms. Badly-in-need-of-a-root-job.
Kelsey was still babbling in a voice that married 'twang' with 'monotone'. "…So for the talent competition, I did an a' cappella version of 'Wind Beneath My Wings' and brought the house down. I would have won if Dixie Vermillion hadn't cheated, but—"
I need to get rid of these girls!
He interrupted her. "So Kelly…"
"Kelsey."
"Kelsey. Sorry. So Kelsey, you said you're studying to be a nurse?"
"That's right." She grinned. "Just like my mama, and my Auntie Ruby."
"Good," Logan nodded. "Maybe you can help me out."
"I'd sure be happy to try." She thrust her boobs out in an anything-but-subtle gesture.
He grinned down at the floor, composing his face before glancing back up. "See…I've developed this itchy rash on my junk, and…"
It was almost comical the way her eyes widened. "Oh look!" she said. "Nellie's calling us over. Nice talking to you Nolan."
He laughed as they hurried away.
Logan ordered another ice-cold beer, leaning back against the bar to watch Chessie on stage, singing Allanah Myles' 'Black Velvet'. Already fascinated by her sex appeal, the sultry song wasn't helping his resolve any.
That girl is bad news in the best possible way.
Back at the table, Veronica appeared to be listening intently, while Lemon told her a story, George occasionally contributing to the conversation. The other two Belles talked among themselves, while Duncan and Annabeth might as well have been on another planet, as much attention as they were paying the others.
He's going to be heartbroken when he has to say goodbye to her.
Or he'll break my heart and stay behind. Be prepared, Logan.
Wade returned from the back room, passing Logan's perch at the bar, and a pretty girl stepped up and blocked his path. "Hi, Wide," she drawled. She stood around 5'6, with golden blonde hair worn in pigtails at the nape of her neck. Veronica style – only longer.
"Oh...hey…Tansy," Wade said, looking uncomfortable.
"Why didn't you tell me you'd be here tonight, baby?" the girl asked, playfully swatting his arm. "We could've come together."
Logan snickered. Uh oh. Somebody's in the dog house. Couldn't happen to a nicer guy.
"Oh…well…" Wade's eyes swept the room, searching for some form of escape. "Night out with George Tucker."
"Well, I like George Tucker just fine."
"Yeah, but you know…Lemon…And those Belles." He shuddered as if the girls were monsters, rather than debutantes.
"Oh…Belles." Tansy said screwing up her nose, as if that was a reasonable enough explanation.
"Yeah…well I'd better get back over there. Told them I'd only be a few minutes."
Tansy's face fell. "Oh, well I guess I'll see you later."
Wade touched her arm and began inching around her. "Hey, if I don't find you later, I'll call you this weekend, kay?"
"Okay. Don't forget this time. You were supposed to call me last night."
"Meant to, but my phone battery was dead." Wade shrugged in a 'whadya-gonna-do?' gesture.
"Oh…okay," Tansy said, eyes downcast.
Patting her on the shoulder one more time, Wade walked away.
Tansy, looking miserable, took the stool at the bar next to Logan.
Now this girl, Veronica would be jealous of. Blonde, beautiful, stacked, smokin' body.
If Chessie was too much temptation, and Kelsey, not temptation enough, then Tansy was just right.
"You realize he was lying out his ass, right?" Logan asked.
Tansy turned to him in surprise. "Excuse me?"
"Wide. His battery wasn't dead, he's not going to 'catch up with you later', and he probably won't call this weekend."
Tansy's eyes narrowed. "Well screw you, too. That's my boyfriend."
"He's not your boyfriend."
"Who the hell do you think you are?" She pushed back from the bar as if to leave.
Fuck. I'm such an ass.
But, when has that ever stopped me?
"Wait," Logan put a hand on her arm. "I'm not trying to hurt your feelings and I'm not even trying to pick you up. Stay, and let me buy you a drink."
She eyed him suspiciously. "Why would you want to buy me a drink if you're not trying pick me up?"
"Just to talk. I'm Nolan, by the way, and I'm leaving town as soon as my car is fixed tomorrow, so obviously, I have no ulterior motive."
She looked skeptical, but then sat back down in her stool. "Tansy. Tansy Truitt."
"What are you drinking, Tansy?"
She examined the beer in his hand. "I'll have what you're drinking."
Logan waved motioned to the bartender for another beer.
"So…what did you want to talk about?"
"Look…You're a beautiful girl. Stunning, actually. Any guy would be lucky to have you."
Tansy smiled at the compliment. "Why, thank you."
"But you're way too available."
The smile dropped. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"When you were talking to Wade just now, you came across as desperate."
Tansy sighed. "I can't help it. I'm crazy about him. I want to marry him someday."
Why? So you can drive a rusty pickup and live on Spam for the rest of your life?
At least until he cheats on you.
Logan shook his head sadly. "Let me take a wild guess. He shows up at your door whenever he likes, never takes you out on a real date, pretends he doesn't know you in public?"
Tansy's eyes dropped to the bar in embarrassment. "How'd you know?"
"A guess. And you let him get away with it. You're always available. Let him in every time he comes a' knocking?"
"So you think it's hopeless?" Tansy asked, large blue eyes, dejected.
"No, I do think you deserve better, but it's not hopeless. Not at all. Well, maybe right now it is, but you can change that."
"How?" she leaned forward in interest.
And…she takes the bait.
It was still stifling hot, so Logan paused before speaking taking a long sip of beer. A few more seconds to keep her dangling.
"You need to blow him off. Stop being available."
Tansy scowled. "And how exactly is that supposed to help? I want to spend more time with him, not less."
"Because guys are assholes, myself included. We always want what we can't have. Wide undervalues you, because you're always available. You need to cut off his easy supply," He made a vague gesture towards her body. "While proving to him that there's a heavy demand." He pointed at himself.
Tansy tilted her head, seemingly making mental calculations. "So, is that like or math or something?"
Logan smiled. "Or something. So start sending him home when he knocks on the door. And pretend you're interested in somebody else."
"Like who?"
"Well…you could use me. At least for tonight," he said, as if making a great sacrifice.
I am such a bastard...
Tansy's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "You're trying to scam me,"
Logan put up a hand. "No. I'm really not. I just hate seeing pretty girls like you treated that way. He's over at that table right now trying to pull the same crap with my cousin, Victoria."
Tansy turned around to look.
"Hey!" Logan said sharply, snapping his fingers, to recapture her attention. "Don't look over there again. You no longer care what he's doing."
"I don't?"
"You don't. You're a strong, capable woman who will no longer be treated like an afterthought."
"Yeah…" Her smile expanded into a big toothy grin. "I am."
"Excellent, now turn to face me," Logan instructed, shifting sideways on his stool.
"Why?"
"Because I'm about to give you some lessons, and you'll want to mirror my body language."
"Okay…?" Tansy pivoted on her seat until her knees faced Logan.
If she were really into me, she'd be even closer.
He remedied the problem, by spreading his legs wide, and dragging her stool nearer with his foot so that his knees were on the outside of hers.
Tansy seemed uncomfortable with the seating arrangement - maybe because her short, denim -Veronica style - skirt left little to the imagination.
"Relax," he said quietly. "While your legs are spectacular, I'm still not looking to hook up. This is just for show."
Tansy let out a relieved breath. "Okay…" then her eyes narrowed. "But why not?"
"Why not what?"
"Why aren't you trying to pick me up? Is there something wrong with me?"
"There wasn't until you asked that question," he answered. "That was desperation again. Listen, I've hooked up with Laker Girls. I'm not as blinded by a pretty face and great body as most guys are."
But attitude and mad sex appeal are a different story.
"So you have a girlfriend."
He hesitated, managing not to look at Veronica. "No girlfriend. There's a girl I...care about, but it's complicated."
"So I shouldn't take it personally," she said, as if reassuring herself. "What now?"
"Okay, let's start with the basics." Elbow on the bar, he propped his chin on his palm. "Mirror my posture, and gaze into my eyes."
She did as she was told, but not without complaint. "It feels silly to gaze at you. I don't even like you so far."
And here I was planning to name my first-born child after you.
"That's okay, Wade's too far away to tell you're faking it. Now you'll need to touch yourself."
Tansy gasped in outrage, and he burst out laughing.
"Not like that," he said, stopping her from leaving. "Gosh, get your mind out of the gutter."
"So how exactly did you mean it, pervert?" she demanded, belligerently.
Yeah, I totally set her up there.
"You'll want to touch yourself in places you want to draw my attention to."
"Explain."
"Touching your mouth will draw my attention there and make me think about kissing. Same with your throat. Stroke your upper arm to make me think about touching you."
"But I don't want you to kiss me or touch me."
"This is still a lesson, remember?"
"Fine." Tansy stuck the tip of her finger in her mouth, in a gesture that was probably supposed to look sexy, but had the complete opposite effect.
Logan laughed so loud, he slapped his knee.
"I'm so glad I can be a source of amusement to you," Tansy grumbled.
Logan snickered. "Wait, that wasn't a joke?"
Tansy glared.
"I'm sorry. I'm not trying to pick on you," he said. "How about this? Put your hand on my arm and pretend I said something funny."
Tansy followed his instructions, and he groaned.
"No, no, no," he sighed. "That was the most manic looking laugh I've ever seen. I was almost afraid of you there."
"So then what should I do?"
"Lower your lashes at me and run your fingers up and down my arm."
Tansy did as he told her.
"Oh dear God no," Logan chuckled. "That had all the subtlety of a charging rhino."
She was starting to get angry. "What the hell do you want from me? I did what you said."
"Pretend I'm Wade."
"You're nothing like Wade."
Thank God for small miracles.
Logan sighed. "Tansy, this shouldn't be that hard. Just look up at me and try to see him. Touch my arm like you would touch his."
Tansy stared at him for a minute, and then her eyes softened. She put out a hand, and tried again to run her fingers down his arm.
"A little better," Logan said. "Now pretend Wade is telling you a joke."
"But you don't..."
Logan breathed in and counted backwards from five in his head. "Listen, if you don't want to make Wade jealous, that's fine. We can drop the whole act."
"Oh…" Tansy said, in sudden comprehension. "We're trying to make Wade jealous? Why didn't you just say so?"
Logan mentally replayed their conversation in his head, before finally just shaking his head in disbelief.
"For the record, just so there's no confusion, we are trying to make Wide jealous."
"Okay," Tansy said, enthusiastically, and proceeded to become an entirely different person. Her laughs became more genuine, her arm touches more seductive.
"You're doing great," Logan said.
"I really am?"
"You are. Don't look, but Wide's watching right now."
In fact, Wade was telling a story to Veronica with wild arm gestures, but Tansy didn't need to know that.
"Whisper something slutty in my ear," Logan said.
Tansy leaned close, touched his face and whispered "Something slutty" in his ear. He let out a loud genuine laugh.
Wade might not be watching, but Veronica sure as hell is.
A/N: So...um...lots more Logan/Veronica in the next chapter. Which is coming soon. I promise.
A/N: I know Tansy matured a lot in the past season of the show, but I'm writing the wild version of her we've heard about.
A/N: Much love to my beta, ShanghaiLily for everything. All 20K words. Yikes!