Title: Black, White & Shades of Plaid
Word Count: This Part 7,511 | Total 11,751
Rating: NC-17 for sexual situations and some language
Summary: Set in season 1 during The Wrath of Con and goes AU from there. Logan runs into Veronica after she goes undercover in the gaming club.
Disclaimer: I don’t own anything…everything belongs to RT and the CW. Lines taken directly from episodes or otherwise paraphrased from them were done with the use of transcripts provided by twiztv.com.
Spoilers: Up to 1x04 but let’s just say all of season 1 and 2 just to be safe.
Author’s Note: This was written for the vm_library
"incognito" challenge and cross-posted at veronicamarsfic
. Huge thanks to my beta arabian
. This story was a mess before she helped clean it up. Any and all remaining mistakes are mine and mine alone.
The LeBaron is doing 75 in a 60 miles per hour zone, but driving down a road on the outskirts of town in the heat is no small feat when the air conditioner is on the fritz, again
, and even with the top down the air is heavy with humidity. Veronica can’t help thinking that it’s like a scene from a bad western movie, the heat is so thick that there is a translucent glimmer blurring her sight and the only thing missing is an abnormally large tumbleweed blowing across the street. That, however, would require actual wind
. The lucid gleam turns into more of an opaque white smoke, and her first instinct is to write it off as exhaust from another vehicle, but there hasn’t been a car in front of her for miles, so when the LeBaron starts to sputter she is forced to cautiously pull onto the side of the road just before it jerks to a final stop.
The dust from the roadside has barely settled, but between the sun baring down on her, the heat rising from the asphalt, and the steam emitting from the hood of her car she is fairly certain she is in hell. It would make sense that my car would quit on me while I’m in the middle of nowhere and dressed like every guy between the ages of thirteen and seventy’s wet dream.
Her car is far from reliable and the LeBaron has quit on her enough times that she knows she won’t be able to gauge the damage until the radiator cools, so she pops the hood and waits. Ten minutes pass and the car is still smoking, but the possibility of dying from heat stroke -- which given the temperature, is becoming a very distinct prospect -- outweighs the minuscule risk of a third degree burn. With that in mind, she digs out a rag from her glove compartment and goes to inspect the damage. The radiator is busted and that’s not something easily fixed when your tools are limited to a pocket knife. She heads back to the driver’s side and reaches over to the passenger seat for her cell phone, instinctively dialing the one person she knows she can count on to come through for her.
Her situation registers with her brain before the first ring goes through and she hits the end button knowing her father is the last person she can call. She briefly considers calling Wallace, but remembering his mention of family time with his mom and brother at some theme park for the day, he isn’t the most viable option at the moment. Her fingers hover idly over the number pad pausing to think of who else in her limited circle of acquaintances she could call to get her when she hears another vehicle pull off the road and park behind the LeBaron.
Her skirt clad ass is exposed to the street and she is suddenly wary that she is alone and stranded in an outfit that is practically screaming come and get it, so she cautiously gets into the drivers seat, closes her door and wraps her fingers around the taser sitting in her messenger bag. The side mirror gives her a perfect view of her potential assailant but instead she sees the last person she expected to see out here and her familiarity with him does nothing to alleviate her wariness.
He gets out of his car and leans against it, at that impossibly perfect angle, like he’s waiting for her to come to him, but she keeps her eyes forward and her hands on the steering wheel in her best attempt to act invisible. The two stand off for minutes before he taps her door impatiently and her body goes rigid at the raucous sound. Finally accepting that he’s not just going to go away, she looks up at him with a scowl, but he’s just standing there looking at her with an amused smirk.
He looks her over, taking in her attire, then makes a show of looking around the area before turning his attention back to her glare and quipping “Oh, I was just looking for your pimp.”
Veronica bites back annoyed “I bet you were dying
to whip that
one out for a while now.”
His eyes narrow mischievously before countering “And I
bet you were hoping I’d whip out something else. Sorry, Ronnie, no sale, but uh, if you set up shop further into town I’m sure you’ll find someone willing to do
you, desperate times and all that.”
Her patience is wearing thin and she has to fight the urge to slap that smirk right off of his face when she grits out “Is there a particular reason you’re here, or do you just make a habit of trying to pick up random women off the side of the road?”
His voice is laced with false sincerity and he shrugs with a boyish charm. “I don’t know what to tell you, I see a damsel in distress and the gentleman in me comes out.”
Veronica snorts at him in disbelief. “I don’t need, or want, your help.” Okay so that’s not exactly true, at least the part about me not needing his help, but like hell if I’m going to admit to Logan Echolls that I need anything from him.
He rolls his eyes at her stubbornness and persists in an irritated tone “I’m not offering you a kidney, just a jump.”Of course Logan would think a jump would fix the problem, he is an 09er after all and the only thing he knows about what‘s under the hood of a car is that there’s an engine.
She shakes her head at his ignorance before replying tartly “I don’t think so.”
Fed up with her bitchy attitude, he retorts impatiently “It’s really not a problem and this would go by a lot more quickly if you would just accept my help without comment.”
His annoyance doesn‘t go unnoticed by her and she can’t help the twitch that curves her lips up into an involuntary smile at the thought. “If it means that much to you, knock yourself out, I won’t stop you…” He moves to get the cables from his car and is halfway there before adding “…but you’d just be wasting your time. The battery isn’t dead, it’s the radiator, it needs to be replaced, so unless you carry around spare parts for my car this baby isn’t going anywhere.”
Logan stops mid stride but then stalks the rest of the way to his car, he gets in and drives it recklessly back on the road, leaving tire tracks on the pavement. For a second she thinks he’s actually going to leave her out here and she starts to panic, but then he stops the X-Terra jerkily next to her and opens the passenger door, seemingly coming to a decision he wasn’t too pleased with. “Get in.”
Veronica isn’t used to Logan actually doing something decent and so she can’t help being cautious when he’s acting almost nice
. “I think there are horror movies that start off like this.”
She waits for him to make a less than original dig about only virgins being safe and that for sluts like her death is imminent, but his next words are even more unsettling because even with the well placed barb, she’s fairly certain somewhere in there he admits to caring about her. “Look, I may not like you but I’m not just going to leave you on the streets for some psycho to pick up and violate.”
Her response is immediate and she can‘t keep the sarcasm from her tone. “That’s comforting coming from an obligatory psychotic jackass… pot, meet kettle.”
He ignores the bite of her comment and stays focused on the main issue. “I may be a jackass but I’m not some psycho perv, I think your virtue is safe.”
Her eyebrows arch in a challenge. “Tell that to the poor LeBaron whose headlights you violated, I couldn’t get her to turn them on for anyone for a whole two weeks.”
He can‘t help the amused look on his face. “Cute.” He thinks for a second and decides to take a different approach. “Come on, it’s like a hundred degrees out here and my car has a fully functional air-conditioning unit, but if you want to stay out here and sweat it out…” he trails off knowing she‘ll take the bait.
Eying him cautiously she makes a decision. “I guess that makes you the lesser of two evils.” She packs up all her stuff and looks around the car to make sure she’s not leaving anything behind.
He watches her rummage through her bag then inspect the car a second time before finally piping up impatiently, “I’m on a tight schedule here, those evil schemes don’t take care of themselves… there’s some little kid out there whose sucking on a lollipop I should be plucking from its mouth right about now.”
There is a three second delay and when her mind catches up to his crack her face scrunches. “I’m a little disturbed by the very real possibility that you might not
He watches her look around her car for the third time and thinks she must be slightly obsessive compulsive, because there is no reason to look through the junk in her car that
Finally satisfied that she has everything, she grabs her bag and steps out of the car in a less than lady-like manner, momentarily forgetting the revealing form of her guise. It’s the first time he sees her outfit fully and his mouth goes dry at the sight, but he shrugs it off as being a guy thing that has more to do with the naughty catholic schoolgirl costume and absolutely nothing to do with the petite blonde wearing it.
Logan likes his music loud, mind numbing loud, and she’s thankful for the distraction from what could have been unbearably awkward silence. She thinks she must have zoned out because forty minutes later there’s a finger poking at her arm and a very agitated Logan staring at her. “I have lots of talents but mind reading isn’t one of them, so you’re either going to have to tell me where you live or I can just drop you off in the poorest neighborhood I can find, that way it’ll feel just like home to you.”Fuck, my dad’s at the apartment.
“I can’t go home.”
Her voice is low and he thinks maybe she was talking more to herself than to him but it doesn‘t stop him from quipping “I’m sure there’s a shelter nearby I could drop you off at, the Humane Society’s not as classy as the Camelot but you’re small enough to fit in one of the dog kennels.”
“I can’t go home…” she drags out the word home into three syllables and pauses dramatically daring him to interrupt her again but he thinks better of it and let’s her finish “…because my dad will freak if he sees me dressed like…”
He interrupts, placated by the chance to call her dirty names and actually have it be legitimate “… a hooker?”
“I was thinking more along the lines of worldly woman but somehow I don’t think my dad will appreciate the difference.”
“I can see how that could be a problem… for you
His disinterest in her dilemma isn’t something she’s unfamiliar with and she responds with her usual snark “You
invited yourself into my
problems when you practically forced me into your car.”
“I offered you a ride not a peace treaty; we’re not exchanging friendship bracelets here.”
“It’s unfortunate that you said that because it makes what I’m about to ask you a lot more awkward. I kinda need to stay at your house for a while” she explains.
“I don’t see why you have to stay with me
, don’t you have a friend whose house you can crash at for the night?”
“That would require that I actually have friends, and since you’ve gone out of your way to make sure I’m the social pariah at school, I’m kinda lacking in that department… so if you really
think about it you brought this on yourself.” She can tell he’s not happy about having her over at his house and she’s not thrilled about it either, but she doesn’t exactly have any other options. “I’m not suggesting a slumber party, it would just be for a couple of hours until my dad leaves on a stakeout.”
“And here I thought you lower middle class folks did the whole blue collar nine to five bit.”
“Logan, can you for once in your life just not be a jackass and do this for me?” It comes out a lot more desperate than she meant it to and she mentally slaps herself for it.
He thinks he must be fucking crazy to even consider bringing her to his house, but there was something in her tone that reminded him of the innocent girl he used to be friends with and it makes it hard for him to deny her. He figures maybe he could relent just this once. “Okay.”
His sudden change in attitude is almost as abrupt as the 180 turn he makes on the road. It was both abrupt and unexpected and she really doesn’t know how to respond so she doesn’t.
Logan never turns the radio back up, and there’s that awkward silence she wanted to avoid earlier. Luckily the trip to his house is short and twenty-five minutes later he pulls into the Echolls estate.
The air cools the sweat on her skin from the short walk to the door and if she hadn’t just come from out there she wouldn’t have been able to tell that the temperature outside was scorching. He heads straight towards the stairs but stops when he realizes she’s wandering into the living room looking aimlessly around. “Uh uh, I’m not leaving you alone down here.”
“I’ve been in your house before Logan, I’m not gonna get lost.”
“I wasn’t so much worried about you getting lost as I was about the silverware, well that and my mom’s health, she might have a stroke if she comes home and thinks I brought a stripper here.”
He leads her to up the stairs and to his room then immediately drops to the floor in front of his plasma and picks up the controller for his x-box to play a game. He looks over at Veronica standing timidly near the door and he realizes she’s not just going to come in on her own. “It’s just my bedroom, not the Seventh Veil, you don‘t have to worry about being accosted.”
He sees her scan the room unsurely before walking over to his bed, inspecting the bed spread compulsively and hesitantly sitting on the edge. “I can assure you there are no cooties on the sheets.”
“I wasn’t… okay maybe I was, but in my defense you did
date Caitlin Ford.”
He gets annoyed, obviously still sore about the kick to his ego, and snaps “I didn’t bring you up here to play a game of room raiders.”
“I guess this isn’t the best time to whip out the black light from my spy kit then, huh?”
He doesn’t answer, just turns back to the screen and continues playing his game, but he’s pressing the buttons with a lot more force than before. Picking up on his annoyance, she mumbles to herself “I didn’t think so,” before taking out her laptop and books, and lining them out on his bed.
An hour later Logan is still very much engrossed in his game but Veronica is a little less fixated on her schoolwork and more focused on the boy sitting on the floor at the foot of the bed. Her eyes follow the vein throbbing in his neck and the way his jaw clenches and relaxes when he gets to the really good parts in the game and she thinks he has such a boyish quality to him. It would almost be endearing if I didn‘t know he was the spawn of Satan.
“I can feel you staring at me.”
“I wasn’t staring at you, I was… watching the game”
“I have an extra controller if you want to play.”
His invite is unexpected and she‘s tempted to take him up on it, but the more rational part of her prevails. “No thanks, I actually intend on passing the eleventh grade.”
Veronica goes back to studying and he continues his game but he can feel her staring again. “I know you may not think so, but putting the books away for two seconds won’t hurt your GPA, and you too could be experiencing the joys of mindless, violent, video games. Come on, all the cool kids are doing it.”
“I know you
might not think so” she counters, “but I don’t have a million dollar trust fund and actually have to work to get into college.”
“I’m sure you could strip your way through school, you’ve got the body for it…” He stops rethinking the implications of his last statement and back tracks adding “… and you definitely put in the practice time.”
“I guess if anyone knows it would be you. I mean given your frequent trips to Tijuana you must have gotten an eye for hookers along with other things easily picked up from them.”
“I don’t know if I should be more offended by your implication that I have an STD or that you would think I actually need to pay a girl to get laid, and here I thought you and Lilly told each other everything…” he stops realizing his slip of the tongue and the uneasiness between them reaches new levels.
“This coming from a guy who gets his jollies by watching animated game characters jumping up and down on his X-Box.” He looks relieved that she changed the subject and she crawls to the foot of the bed and lays on her stomach perching up on her elbows to glare pointedly at the paused girl on the plasma screen, mid kick in a dominatrix outfit.
“Hey, I’m just trying to help poor Katara find her way back to her home while fighting off pimps and cops on her quest. If she has to wear scantily clad outfits and get all slutty while doing so then I’m willing to live with that… for the sake of her finding her way home of course.”
Rolling her eyes at him, she mocks his last words incredulously “of course.”
His antics are nothing if not amusing and since she hasn’t been able to focus on getting any work done for the past thirty minutes, she thinks one game won’t set her back much. Leaning down, she picks up the extra controller off the floor. “Okay, so what exactly am I supposed to be doing in this game?” He had only been joking with her. He hadn’t expected her to actually do it, but he doesn’t tell her that. Instead, he just goes on to explain the game to her with enthusiasm coupled with wild hand gestures.
Forty minutes later Veronica is throwing down her remote and basking in her victory. “Ownage! I totally just kicked your ass!”
He quirks an eyebrow at her use of game terminology. “Okay first, don’t ever say that again and second, it’s not ‘ownage’ if you’re on the same team.”
“I don’t recall you mentioning anything of the sort when you were going through ‘the rules’ for half an hour
.” She drags out the last bit to emphasize her annoyance.
“It wouldn’t have taken me so long to explain them to you if someone could grasp the basic concept of the game, and I didn’t think I needed to mention it… not attacking your own team member should go without saying but clearly I was asking for too much.”
“You can dress it up any way you like, the fact is that I’m alive and your character is rotting in a back alley, so clearly I win.”
He gives her a pointed glare. “In my defense I wasn’t exactly expecting my partner to stab me after leaving that night club.”
“I told you to watch your back and trust no one, because people always
screw you over.” Her words come out bitter and Logan has a feeling they’re not talking about the game anymore.
He doesn’t know how to talk to her now, he hates it when the tension gets thick and somber like this. Luckily the atmosphere is made lighter by a loud rumbling and Veronica smiles sheepishly in embarrassment. “I haven’t eaten anything since breakfast this morning.”
“I can order us something to eat.” Her face shows that she’s surprised by his almost instinctive impulse to give her what she needs. He doesn’t want to seem like he cares or anything so he casually tacks on an extra motive. “I am a growing boy after all and I need nourishment too.” He takes out his cell and scrolls down the list of take-out numbers. “So what’s your poison?”
She shrugs noncommittally. “I’ll eat whatever you’re eating.”
He makes a suggestion, “Pizza?” but she lets out a soft whining noise much like a puppy. He gives her a pointed look before conceding. “Okay, I guess I could go for some Chinese…” Veronica lets out another groan and Logan shoots an annoyed look at her, before a look of remembrance passes across his face. “Italian?” Her eyes widen almost child-like and sparkles at the suggestion, if that wasn’t a tell tale the growing smile on her face lets him know that he made the right choice.
He looks at her and shakes his head at her antics. “If you already knew what you wanted why did you even tell me to choose?”
“I didn’t want to seem too pushy.”
“Uh huh, because inviting yourself into my home unwanted isn’t pushy at all.”
He makes the call and places the order, automatically ordering her favorite from before when they used to be friends. He doesn’t realize he did it until it’s done and turns back to finds her staring at him in shock. He gets apprehensive about what he just did, but then the corners of her mouth turn up into a slight smile that’s barely noticeable. He thinks he sees something he hasn’t seen in over a year, but brushes it off and continues making his order.
He hangs up the phone and turns when he feels the bed move under her shuffling and sees her opening her books again. “I thought you had given up on that stuff.”
… is going to get me the Kane Scholarship and it’s not going to do itself.” Logan just shrugs and starts the game up again when Veronica asks, “I know homework isn’t big on your to do list but isn’t there something you should be doing for a class?”
“I know you have homework Logan, you’re in three of my classes and we have an essay due on Friday for Miss Murphy’s creative writing class, have you even started that?”
“No and before you get all nerd with a cause I know we had an entire month to get it done, and its worth twenty per cent of our final grade, and I should start applying myself… I already had this talk with the guidance counselor, I didn’t give a fuck then and hey would you look at that, I don’t now.”
“I’ve read your articles for the navigator, you’re an excellent writer, Duncan barely needs to have them edited and even on your worst day your writing is still good, you could put in a half assed effort and still pass.”
“No, I could write with the caliber of Hemmingway and they would still fail me. It seems the course rules and mine conflict, my essay topics aren’t exactly faculty approved. I don’t even know why they call it creative writing if they won’t let me write what I want.”
“Oh…” she had thought he was just being his usual slacker self but it almost seems like he actually cares.
“What part of I don’t give a fuck didn’t you get? Was it the I, the don’t, the give, the a, or the fuck? Because I thought it was pretty self explanatory but here let me say it again a little slower this time, I. Don’t. Give. A. Fuck.” He knows he took it a little far but he could see her attitude towards him change the instant she realized he wasn‘t just slacking off but actually had a somewhat legitimate reason behind his refusal to work. However, understanding led to concern and the last thing he needed was for her to feel bad for him. “It’s just a crap assignment.”
He goes back to effortlessly playing his game and she immerses herself back into her work.
Half an hour later the doorbell rings and Logan leaves to answer it. He’s back a minute later with his arms full with food and he can’t help but notice the way she lights up when she sees it before sitting up in the bed. “Oooo, give it here.”
He goes back to his place on the floor and rummages through the bag. He pulls out her manicotti and she wastes no time before digging in like a child on Christmas morning and then she’s… Oh my God, is she… yes, she’s moaning
. He turns to look at her and catches her mid bite; the fork is in her mouth and her eyes are closed and then she’s licking the fork and all he can think is it should be a sin to be that sensual when eating your body weight in manicotti
. He couldn‘t exactly tell her
that so he settled for some light snark. “It’s not going to run away.”
Her cheeks are still full of half chewed pasta but she answers around a mouthful “Huh?”
He thinks he should be a little disgusted by it but sitting there and watching her, it all seems so cute. “I think maybe you should slow down before you choke or something.”
Veronica looks at the heaping pasta on her fork about to make contact with her still full mouth “Oh…” She puts the fork down and chews the remaining food swallowing with a smile. “It’s really good.”
“I picked up on that when you started going at it like a starving kid from a third world country.”
“I don’t think you understand how good this stuff is, it’s like heaven in your mouth.” He watches her pick up her fork, the pasta still rolled around it, and then feels her nudging him with her foot before pushing the fork in front of his face. “I’m telling you, you have to taste this.”
He gives her an incredulous stare but when he sees she’s being completely serious he takes the fork from her muttering, “I’m not a baby, I think I can handle feeding myself.”
“Aw, and I was all set to start cooing for you to open up for the choo-choo train.”
“It wouldn’t have worked… I only make exceptions for fighter jets, trains are lame.” Veronica rolls her eyes at him and he feeds himself the heaping mount of manicotti. Her smile widens and she takes the fork back practically pulling it out of his mouth before digging into her food and taking another bite. He can’t help but think about the way the fork was just in his mouth and the intimacy of it all. He shakes his head trying to rid it of these thoughts he definitely should not be having and finishes his food while watching an extended scene from the game.
It’s not until the game finally ends that it occurs to him that he hasn’t heard her say anything in the last hour. He turns around to find her passed out across his bed so he packs up the empty cartons around her and leaves to throw them out with his.
He walks back into the room and stops to look at her, to really look at her and when his eyes roam the entirety of her petite frame, surprisingly it’s not her bare legs in that barely there skirt,or the skin tight button up shirt that accentuates her breasts, or even the knee high socks covering her calves that he’s drawn to. It’s her face that he can’t help but stare at and the way she looks so peaceful in her sleep, not the hard bitter girl he helped her turn into but the soft naïve girl he used to be friends with.
He can’t look away and when she stirs and wakes up, her eyes open to find him still staring down at her. Her eyes are unfocused at first and it takes her a few moments to process where she is and why she’s here. “I must have dozed off for a second.”
Logan snorts at her huge understatement and counters. “I thought you had eaten yourself into a coma.”
Taking in the low light filling the room from outside his windows she gets a panicked look on her face and before she has a chance to ask, Logan answers. “One and a half hours, it’s only nine thirty.”
Veronica scoots to the edge of the bed and her already too short skirt rises up her thighs. He looks down at her legs and she follows his gaze then blushes brightly and scrambles to pull her skirt down. She hops off of the bed and walks into his bathroom but leaves the door open. She looks at her face in the mirror and then back at Logan surprised.
“If you were expecting to find a dick drawn on your face or a clown mask, I hate to break it to you but this is real life and not another teen movie. I
would have gone with shaving cream on the hand and a tickler.”
“I would have pegged you for a handlebar moustache drawn in permanent marker kind of guy.”
“I like to stick to the classics.”
“Uh huh, I need to freshen up but I’ll be out in a minute… oh and don’t touch my stuff while I’m in here”
“Then do me the same courtesy and snip whatever compulsive Nancy Drew tendencies you have to go through my medicine cabinet.”
“The things in a person’s medicine cabinet can tell you so much about them, luckily for you I don’t need to go through your stuff to know you’re a jackass.”
Logan doesn‘t answer her, he just stares at her computer wondering what she has in there that she doesn‘t want him to see. He glances back at the now closed bathroom door then crosses the room to the laptop on his bed. He opens it only to be accosted by a fleet of pink unicorns.
Veronica is standing in front of his medicine cabinet, she meant what she said before about already knowing he was a jackass but she’d get more satisfaction in knowing he’s a jackass with inflamed hemorrhoids or something equally as uncomfortable for him. She opens the small cabinet to find several ointments and hoards of bandages, not exactly what she hoped to find, it’s definitely borderline hypochondriac but she shrugs it off as Logan being his usual abrasive self and goading people into some pretty ugly fights.
Logan is still attempting to access her laptop; it’s password protected but he takes a shot anyway and types Duncan, it’s denied and he goes to try again when he hears a shuffling noise come from the bathroom and hears Veronica call out to him, “Logan.”
He quickly closes the computer and moves to stand up, away from the bed and her things. He feels flushed and thinks maybe it’s from being caught off guard but now the entire room feels warmer and he knows it’s definitely not him. He almost forgot Veronica called for him until she calls out again more annoyed. “I think something’s wrong with your central air, it‘s like a sauna in here, and not the good kind.”
She emerges from his bathroom slightly flushed and with a moistened glow layered over her skin. Her face is made up into a scowl and her jaw is set but before she can say anything he cuts her off. “I’m already on it.” He holds up his phone then tells her, “our on call mechanic company is checking to see when they can send someone over to fix it.”
“Did you at least check the thermostat first, because the problem might just be the gauge.”
“If I knew anything about fixing air conditioners I wouldn‘t have a the family mechanic on the line.”
“I’m going to check the thermostat; you can stay here and reapply your hair gel or do whatever it is you do.”
Ten minutes later Veronica walks back in the room and finds Logan sitting on the floor looking through a stack of games, the slight sheen of sweat over his face is the only indication that the rising temperature in the house is getting to him.
“I think it must be the main air-conditioning unit because the thermostat is fine.”
“I could have told you that.” His words are met with a seething glare but he ignores her and continues “I couldn’t get someone here now but I managed to talk the guy into stopping by between jobs, he’ll be over in an hour or two.”
“I guess we can just use a fan until then.”
“A fan… right.” He seems to be contemplating something but doesn‘t elaborate.
“Yeah, you know… that thing with the blades that go in circles… is anything clicking here?”
“I know what a fan looks like, but we don’t have any.”
He says it like it‘s the most natural thing in the world and she can‘t keep the disbelief from her voice. “Logan, how can you not have a fan?”
“The air is always on, we don’t need them.”
“If that were true, we wouldn’t be standing here in your room with no cooling system.”
Logan shrugs his shoulders and Veronica gives him an exasperated look. “It is getting too warm in here to be having this conversation with you. There are like a hundred rooms in this place and there has to be a fan in one of them. I‘m going to check downstairs, you can come help me look or not, it‘s your choice”
“I choose ‘not.’”
He watches her walk out in an annoyed huff but doesn’t move to follow her. Twenty minutes later Logan is still sitting alone in his room. Veronica hasn’t come back yet and he thinks maybe she decided to leave. He walks downstairs and searches for her when he hears an all too familiar clinking sound coming from the hallway near his dad’s office. He finds her staring at the closet full of belts and walks up behind her and shuts the closet door with more force than necessary. He startles her and she turns only to find him inches away from her. “Jesus, Logan, you scared me.”
Her breathing is heavier and it‘s not helping that he‘s standing so close to her but the tension dissipates when he asks angrily, “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“I told you, I was looking for a fan.”
“It’s not in there.”
He watches her eyes scan his features as if reading a book. Piecing together puzzles has always been her thing, and he knows his actions are more than a little suspicious. He can practically see the wheels turning in her mind and he covers quickly, “I think my dad has some weird belt fetish.”
did not need that mental image.”
“And you wouldn’t have gotten it if you had listened to me when I told you there weren’t any fans down here.”
Veronica walks over to the couch and flops down defeated.
He throws himself onto the couch adjacent to her. “It’s not like we have to stay cooped up in here, we can go somewhere else.”
“If I had somewhere else I could’ve gone I would never have asked you to let me come here, and I can’t exactly go anywhere public dressed like this…” Her mind registers something she hadn’t thought of before and she trails off before asking “Hey, do you think Trina left any clothes behind in her old room?”
“If you’re worried about going out looking like a hooker then I wouldn’t suggest wearing anything in her wardrobe. Besides she has that placed locked up pretty tight. She came home and caught one of the maids going through her things one day and completely freaked. I think she may have installed a password protected code lock.”
Veronica lets out a groan and flops back on the couch. Logan gets up and walks off but her arm is slung over her eyes and she’s not sure where he went. It couldn’t have been far because suddenly he’s grabbing her hand and pulling her up from the couch and towards the kitchen area. They stop directly in front of the refrigerator and she whines. “Food isn’t going to fix this. Besides I’m still full from the manicotti.”
“I didn’t bring you in here to eat.” He opens the freezer door before finishing smugly, “I brought you here for this.” He can’t help wanting to pat himself on the back for coming up with this and the contented smile on her face is an added bonus. He notices her eyes settle on the container of ice cream in the freezer and her smile grows even wider.
He opens a drawer and takes out two spoons, passing her one wordlessly before taking out the ice cream and placing it on the counter between them.
Ten minutes later the freezer door is still fully open and they’re propped up on the kitchen counter directly in front of it. Logan has given up on the ice cream, his spoon sitting next to him on the counter but Veronica is still scooping up mouthfuls.
Logan doesn’t fail to notice when she looks up at him disbelievingly for what he thinks is the hundredth time in the last ten minutes “If you keep staring at me like that you’re gonna give me a complex.”
“I’m not… I just… this is the last thing I expected from you. It‘s just so…”
“… ghetto?.. lower middle class?.. beneath me?”
“I was thinking more along the lines of outside your spoiled rich white boy box but, well, yeah.”
“It’s not a big deal, I just opened a door, it’s not like I fixed you a grill cheese sandwich using a flat iron or anything.”
Logan gets up to use the bathroom and comes back minutes later to find Veronica digging into a second container of ice cream with as much fervor as the first.
“This…” he says gesturing to newly opened gallon of ice cream “ is exactly why you can’t be left to yourself.” He moves the tub of ice cream away from her “You can‘t just eat all that ice cream.”
“I don’t see why not.”
“If you eat the entire thing you’re going to make yourself sick, and I’m not holding anyone’s hair back while they retch in the toilet, not even for cute blondes.”
“I have an extremely high tolerance for ice cream, kinda like your relationship with alcohol only better because I don’t wake up with a monster hangover the next day.”
Logan almost looks genuinely offended by her accusation. “I will have you know that Jack, Jose and I have a relationship built on mutual love.”
She can‘t help but snort at his comment. “It’s love alright, your love of the sauce and their love of the ridiculous amount of money you’re willing to spend to support your borderline alcoholic drinking habit.”
He watches her try to retrieve the ice cream from him and moves it on the counter behind him. “I thought you were full from all that manicotti.”
“There’s always room for ice cream, now give it.”
“Nope, I’m officially cutting you off.”
Veronica reaches behind him trying to grab the bucket again but he pushes it further away from her greedy hands. It’s not until she’s practically crawling over him to get to it that he pushes her off and stands, taking the ice cream with him and holding it in his up stretched hand knowing she won’t be able to reach it. Of course that doesn’t stop her from trying and when she’s unsuccessful she makes a petulant whining sound and practically stomps her feet. “That’s not fair.”
He can’t help but mock her after watching that rather amusing display of immaturity. “Life’s not fair, it’s also short, both of which seem to be your problem right now.”
She was still pouting. He looks at her thinking it’s the cutest thing he has ever seen and that he could play like this with her all day if it means she makes that face. His musings are interrupted by the sound of his phone ringing and he’s grateful for the distraction from that particularly unsettling train of thought.
He rests the ice cream on the counter and watches her scoot in next to it and dig in before going into the living room to answer his phone privately.
He comes back two minutes later to find her still slurping on partially melted ice cream and shakes his head. “Uh, that was Dick, he’s throwing a party at his house tonight.”
He looks at her and waits for her to realize what he‘s hinting but she doesn‘t. “Huh, well… have fun.”
“I plan to but there’s this pesky thing running amuck in my home that I can’t exactly leave here alone.”
“I like to think of myself as spunky, and I’m a big girl, I don’t need a keeper.”
“I was more concerned about the silverware.”
“Run out of barbs so soon you have to recycling the same joke in one day, I gotta tell you, I’m a little disappointed.”
“I’m not so much worried about you stealing them anymore as I am you eating them.” He looks pointedly at her while she laps every speck of ice cream off her spoon.
Catching on to what he hinted to she drops the spoon in the ice cream bucket with a thud and glares back at him void of any malice. “I’ll be fine here, besides you said your dad will be home soon so it’s not like I’d be here alone for long.”
Logan gets an uneasy look when she mentions his dad being there with her. He has never really been comfortable leaving his girlfriends around his father. He always gave off this smarmy vibe, not that he thought of Veronica like that
it’s just with the way she’s dressed he really doesn’t think it would be a good idea to leave her here.
“I have an idea.”
“Ooh, that’s the second time today. Don’t overextend yourself you might strain something.”
Ignoring her barb he just continues “I could take you with me.”
“I don’t think so. Going to an 09er party is somewhere between Armageddon and hell on my list of the last places I want to be, and I am not
going there dressed like this.”
“If I found a way for you to go like that without standing out would you go?”
“I don’t see that happening. Sure, it’ll be fun to watch you try think of a plan, but I think you’ve hit your limit for ideas in one day.”
“That’s sounds like a challenge.”
She just shrugs her shoulder and smirks confidently. It’s that cocky smile that says ‘Veronica Mars is smarter than me’ and he thinks he’s never wanted to wipe that gloating smirk off of her face more than right at this moment when it hits him.
He takes out his cell and makes a call. “Dick, how about we make this party a little more… interesting. I was thinking costumes… of the naughty variety. Anything goes as long as there’s a naughty preceding it for the ladies.” He nods, listening and then with a laugh, responds, “I had a feeling you’d like it, go inform the masses, see you there man.”
He looks at her and doesn’t fail to notice the cocky grin she wore just moments before is now more of a horrified grimace and smirks. “I have to get changed, looks like we’re going to a party.”
He leaves her sitting there, mouth agape, and heads upstairs to his room.Cont'd