Title: Firewater Fellow
Author: Eolivet
Pairing/Character: Logan angst, Veronica/Logan
Word Count: 1,102
Rating: PG.
Summary: He'd saved her instead of himself.
Lyrics: "I'm the Only One" by Melissa Etheridge.
Spoilers/Warnings: AU - what might've happened if Logan had answered his phone when Veronica called him in LitB.
Firewater Fellow
***
The more Logan talked -- it seemed -- the more she listened. He told her everything, and what was left of the woman appeared to respond -- quietly at first, but with increasing intensity as the hour progressed. Every so often, he'd feed her resting place a little of his drink, which she gratefully accepted. Staring down at her, longing to feel her embrace...she seemed to beckon to him -- begging him to close the distance between them so they could be together. Wishing he would just take that leap...
But the flask slipped out of his sweaty fingers -- landing with a clatter behind him, and he had to excuse himself from her to retrieve it. He was kneeling down to pick it up when he heard his phone ring -- the mechanical tone accented by a louder, more refined set of mechanics -- hidden beneath several layers of steel, accented by the whirring of rubber. Every ring got fainter and fainter, as the sounds drew closer and closer together.
Desperately, he glanced back over at her -- but he could no longer see her, and her easy, natural responses were drowned out by both man-made noises assaulting his ears.
Louder and louder -- fight or flight -- and though he couldn't hear her, he knew what she would say, what she would do. He knew because, underneath it all, he was more like her than he wanted to admit. Always looking for escape...
Jumping into his car, he threw her a hasty apology -- just like the ones she'd given him on multiple occasions before...
"You've reached Logan, and here's today's inspirational message..." he joked into the phone, answering it almost without thinking.
He was rudely rewarded with the sound of one of those short mechanical key tones directly into his ear. "Hey, dumbass -- does this sound like voicemail to you?" he snapped at the caller -- hastily steering his car down a side street, hoping to lose the straggling bikers approaching in his rearview mirror.
There was silence for a moment, before... "Logan?"
Smiling ruefully, he shook his head at the familiar voice. "Why, if it isn't the little surgeon who ripped my heart out with a razor and stripped it for parts this afternoon! What can I do you for this time -- a kidney, perhaps?" he wanted to know, in a sarcastically sing-song voice.
"Logan, listen to me--" Veronica continued, ignoring everything he'd just said. "I went over to Duncan's--"
He laughed, bitterly -- in spite of himself. "Of course you did. I should've known--"
"Logan!" He heard a car door shut and the slight hum of an engine. "I know you didn't kill Lilly. We found tapes of Lilly and your father." Now she was babbling -- clearly distracted...possibly drunk.
"What about my father? Veronica, what are you--"
"It's nothing," she said, on what sounded like a quickly drawn-in breath. "Forget it-really-it's fine." The words came out in a hurried, barely decipherable jumble.
He knew firsthand how her moods could turn on a dime, but she didn't usually sound this...anxious or...scared. "Veronica, what's going on?"
"Nothing," she responded again, almost immediately. "Nothing. Nothing's wrong--" There was a click...and then silence.
He sat in his car, holding the phone -- halfway between his two women. Looking longingly back, he decided she would wait. Veronica couldn't. Despite everything that had happened between them, for some reason, he could never keep her waiting.
Turning his car back toward Neptune -- and Duncan's house, he called her cell phone again. Automatic voicemail. For some reason, this only made him drive faster.
He decided to take a shortcut -- and nearly drove off the road when he saw her car, slammed into a tree, and Backup, barking furiously in the backseat. "Hey, boy..." he greeted the dog, reflexively, pulling up alongside the wreck. That's when he saw the smoke.
"Veronica!" he called -- frantically bolting out of his car and across the street. He banged on the door of the house -- thinking he'd seen the smoke billowing from the rear window...but it was dark. It only took a few steps toward the back of the house before he saw the flames.
"Oh my God -- Veronica!" he choked out, sprinting to the low, flat storage unit that was a little too big to simply be the victim of an incidental blaze, and just a little too small to hold anything substantial. And he'd seen just a few too many of his father's movies not to know what was most likely inside.
Adrenaline crackled through him -- searing his hand against the top of the unit, but desperation fueled his will, as he forced the container open.
"Veronica...Veronica...Veronica..." he murmured, like her name might revive her -- lifting the shaking but thankfully barely scorched form up and out of its combustible prison.
Holding her close, he then dropped to the ground -- a cacophony of coughing and sputtering as he attempted to soothe the burning with sand and dirt.
She was so fragile, so frail in his arms -- burying her face in his shirt, her muffled cries vibrating loudly against his chest. "Shhhh," he whispered. "It's OK...it's OK, Veronica..."
"Veronica?" echoed an equally frantic voice.
Her head snapped up, suddenly -- her eyes filling with fresh tears. Their eyes met briefly, before both focusing on the familiar man in the middle distance -- running toward them.
Logan did not release her -- holding her almost defiantly, as her father approached.
"Veronica, are you all right?" Keith wanted to know, desperately.
She turned back toward Logan, and he smoothed her hair -- still refusing to let go. "Tell him," he pleaded, softly. Tell him I saved you...
For a second, it looked like she might say something -- before she wrenched herself out of his grasp and was immediately scooped up by her father.
The man towered over him, his body protectively shielding his little girl -- staring down accusingly at her savior caked with sand and dirt. As Logan opened his mouth to speak/protest/defend/explain himself, Keith simply walked away.
Sweat bathed Logan's skin -- sticky with earth -- and he thought of her, still by the bridge where he'd kept her waiting. Her eyes and arms and skin still flowing beneath him, reaching for him.
He'd left her cleansing, watery embrace, only to be wrapped in fire, burned with air and pushed away like dirt. He'd saved Veronica instead of himself, turning away from the one who understood him.
The only one.
The End.