Fic: Car Talk, part 2 (L/V) PG-13 (language)
TITLE: Car Talk (Part 2)
AUTHOR:
hokeysmoke
RATING: PG13
CHARACTER/PAIRING: Logan/Veronica
SPOILERS: All of it is up for grabs
WORD COUNT (in total): 11,982
DISCLAIMER: I don't own these characters. I'd go on about 'if I did', but we all know the "if 'ifs and buts' were candy and nuts" thing. No merry Christmases around here.
SUMMARY: It's just a ride.
“Then why? Why weren’t you with me?”
“Because you wouldn’t let it go. You were determined to get back at the PCHers. You didn’t have time for me when you were caught up in your private war. I was afraid that you’d get hurt. Or... killed.” Her voice has been getting louder with every sentence, but it drops down to barely audible with the last one.
“If I’d known...”
“If you’d known what? That I’d really break up with you? That I’d go back to Duncan? Honestly, Logan, what choice did you give me?”
He knows this is a rhetorical question. She doesn’t want an answer, and he’s not sure he’s got one, so he shuts his mouth and keeps driving.
They ride in silence for a few minutes until Logan turns the stereo back up. A couple of songs later he turns it down again.
“So. How’s Piz?”
“What? Why do you want to know?”
“I’m just...” he squeezes one eye closed slightly as if trying to remember her words before he says, ‘trying to keep the awkward silences at bay.’”
She glares at him again, then says “Pick another topic. That one’s closed.”
“Somebody’s grouchy today.”
“‘Somebody’ got kidnaped and held prisoner in a Le Baron. And ‘somebody’ got more jackass exposure than she’s had in a long time. ‘Somebody’ also has to use the restroom, and ‘somebody’ is getting hungry.”
Just then they see a sign saying: CHULA VISTA 20
“Well, ‘somebody’ better get a grip, because we’re almost there. What’s the address again?”
She reads from the notebook, “98372 Pacific Coast Highway.”
“He said it was 12 miles out of town, so if we’re lucky, it’s twelve miles on this side of town.”
“God, you had to jinx it, didn’t you? Now it’ll not only be on the other side of town, but the guy we need to see will have gone to some other vastly important thing that he just couldn’t miss. A clog dancing event, or a dog fashion show.” She turns her head and stares out the window again.
“‘Jinx it’? What? Are we twelve again?”
“Sometimes it feels that way.”
He waits for a moment, then, “It’s stupid, I know, but I always feel like I’m twelve around you.”
She looks at him, silently asking for clarification.
“Yeah, um, kind of nervous, and hopeful, and... scared to death. You know I was into you before Lilly, right?”
“Then why didn’t you ask me out instead of Lilly?”
He shrugs slightly, “I asked Lilly if you were seeing anyone, and after that she was all over me. She was kind of hard to say no to.”
“I remember. God, how much easier would our lives be if we had gotten together back then.”
He nods in silent agreement, and the two ride in an awkward silence for a few miles.
“You said 98372, right? ‘Cause it’s not here.”
“What? What do you mean it’s not here?”
“Just calm down, let me call him again.”
He flips open his phone and dials. After a few seconds, he starts talking, “Hey, I’m here, but there’s no 98372,” pause, “What do you mean that’s not what you told me?” pause, “It’s 92783?” He writes down the address then says, “Shit, ” Another pause. “Well give me a landmark or something,” pause, “Big rock in the shape of a heart?” he rolls his eyes as he pauses, “Yeah. Ten minutes. No more than fifteen,” pause, “I’ll be there. For sure, man,” pause “Yeah... just wait there a little while longer ”
“Sorry, but - ” he starts to say, but she cuts him off.
“Yeah, I heard. Just who is this guy that he can afford to take Fridays off?”
“Angel. Weevil’s uncle.”
“Angel lives in Chula Vista? Why don’t I just call Weevil? He probably knows almost as much about cars as Angel does.”
“Yeah, well, with Angel it’s kind of a warranty thing. He did the work, he gets to fix the problems.”
“Since when have you been worried about warranties?”
“It’s a matter of principle.”
“Okay, since when have you been worried about principles?”
He glares at her. “I’ve got principles. You just told me about exploiting one of them by dating Duncan.”
She looks away, then down at the book in her hands again. “I’m sorry. That comment was inappropriate and uncalled for.”
“And you’d make it again in a heartbeat.”
She looks at him again, “You must think I’m incapable of learning from my mistakes.”
“Nope. I think you’re incapable of believing you ever make mistakes.”
Her eyes turn hard as she looks at him. “No. I’m well aware of the mistakes I’ve made. I’m looking at one right now.”
“Touché.”
“See what I mean? We fight, and we snipe at each other. We just don’t work together.”
“I can remember plenty of times when we worked very well together.”
“When?” She looks at him and sees that his eyes have darkened and are displaying thinly veiled hunger. “Oh,” she says, and she feels an answering warmth in her groin that’s both familiar and alien. “Yeah. That would be great if all we ever did was lay around naked and have sex.”
His head whips away from the road and his eyes lock on hers for a moment, transferring even more of his hunger to her.
She looks away again, her face flushed, and he turns back to the road, occasionally glancing in her direction.
A few minutes later he asks, “Hey, do you think we’ll ever grow up enough that we can be around each other without doing this?”
“What, you kidnaping me and forcing me to go on some wild goose chase with you?”
He rolls his eyes, “I did not kidnap you, and if this is a wild goose chase then I’m going to be just as mad about it as you are.”
Just then he sees a heart-shaped boulder and points it out to her.
“God, could it get any more clichéd?” she asks, rolling her eyes.
“What? It’s not like it’s Valentine’s Day or anything. I can’t control what nature does with erosion.”
“Maybe not, but you can make sure landmarks like that are obvious when you want them to be.”
“And again I remind you that I don’t have time to be guilty of everything you dream up.”
He glances at the notebook page where he’d written the address, then slows some more and finally turns into a driveway. Angel is there and is about to get into a vintage Chevrolet that’s completely tricked out. He stops when he sees the black Le Baron pull up, walks up to the passenger side door, hits under the handle with the side of his fist, and opens it. Then he goes around to the driver’s side and does the same.
“What...? How...?” Veronica stammers out her questions as she gets out of the vehicle.
“Sometimes they stick,” is Angel’s reply. “Lemme get some WD-40.”
Angel walks toward the open garage door and is back a minute later with a familiar blue and yellow can. He sprays the latches on both doors, then, at Logan’s prompting about the windows, holds back the weather stripping and aims a stream of the lubricant in one spot. Logan asks him to check under the dash for any loose wires that might cause the top to not function, and Angel does so, then fiddles with something. Logan reaches into the car and turns the key but doesn’t start the engine. He tests the windows, locks, and roof. All now work. Veronica has asked to use Angel’s bathroom and hasn’t come back out yet.
Angel looks at Logan and says, “You got it bad, man. Real bad.”
“Tell me about it. So, you think I’ve got a chance?”
“I don’t know. How long does it usually take for her to use the bathroom? ‘Cause she’s been in there for a while.”
Logan’s heart starts to beat more rapidly, and his eyes are fixed on the quaint house. After two very tense minutes, Veronica comes out, looking even more angry and stowing her Sidekick back in her bag.
Logan waits for her to get closer to the car before he asks, “What’s wrong? Nobody free to come get you?”
She glares at him, then looks at Angel and asks “Is this thing safe for human use now?”
Angel shrugs and makes a ‘what are you asking me for?’ gesture with his hands.
“Great. Just frakking great,” she mutters as she gets into the car, which now has the top down.
She opens her textbook again and stares angrily at the page, seemingly unaware that the book is upside down.
Logan casts a questioning look toward Angel who grins and gives him two thumbs up.
Logan grimaces at him for a second, then he gets back into the car. He waves to Angel as they drive off, heading back in the direction from which they came.
The silence is thick and cloying, in spite of the road noise. Logan says “Hey, Veron-”
but she cuts him off by reaching over and turning the volume up on the stereo.
She’s still staring at the same page a few minutes later when the first fat drop of rain splats down on it. She looks up and gets another drop right above her left eyebrow, and a second later another hits her right hand. Logan is pulling over, hoping to get the top up before they’re both drenched, but what once wouldn’t go down now won’t go back up. He spots a gas station about a hundred yards ahead and pulls back onto the road to drive to it.
He’s prepared to pay for the privilege of parking under the station’s canopy until the rain passes, but the station is abandoned. This will buy me some more time, anyway. At least, it will if she’ll talk to me.
He pulls up as far under the canopy as he can get, then unbuckles his seatbelt and goes to the trunk where his backpack and a couple other items are. He soon comes back to the front of the car with two towels and a blanket. He hands one of the towels to Veronica who’s a bit damp. Then he walks to the front of the car, and is ready to wipe off the hood with the other towel when Veronica calls his name to stop him. “You can’t do that, you’ll ruin the paint.”
He looks at her for a moment, then reaches down again to wipe off the hood. Again she calls out, “Logan, don’t do that You’ll scratch the paint ”
“And just why do you care about it, Veronica? Didn’t you say this car was a piece of shit?”
She’s out of the car and taking off one of her tank tops so she can wipe the hood with it, “Maybe I did, but I guess I still kind of like it. Besides, after so much work has gone into it it’d be a shame to mess it up.” She uses the soft cotton tank top to blot up the raindrops.
When she finishes, he spreads the blanket out on the hood and slides onto it. He sits, quietly watching the rain.
After watching him for a few minutes, Veronica joins him. At first she just leans against the side of the car, then, after some obvious internal debate, she also gets up on the hood. She avoids looking at him, and sits quietly, also watching the rain.
“Huh,” he finally says, turning toward her, “I figured you’d want to be alone. Or are you going to blame me for the rain, too?”
She looks chagrined for a moment, then, making up her mind, she looks him in the eye, “I’m sorry I accused you of setting up this disaster of a day. There’s probably no point in calling Angel, I mean, he just checked the roof out, right?”
He turns away from her to continue watching the rain, “Yeah, he did. Has today really been a disaster?”
She studies his profile for a moment, “No, not totally. We did manage to talk to each other without any blood being shed.”
“Yay. Another huge success. Everything else in my life should go so well,” he deadpans.
The falling rain has brought with it falling temperatures. Veronica has her arms wrapped around herself and is trying not to shiver. Logan sees this and goes into protective mode.
“Hey, are you all right? Just sit there, let me...” and he gets off the car, gathers the blanket up and bundles it around Veronica, who, in spite of trying to argue that she doesn’t need it, is only half-heartedly resisting. Only after she starts to get a little warmer does she realize that he must be just as wet and as cold as she is.
“Logan? What about you? Aren’t you cold?”
He looks at her, then looks away again, “I’m all right.”
“Logan, don’t be stubborn.”
He looks at her again, and she’s holding the blanket open for him to come and share it with her. He looks into her eyes for a few seconds, then joins her under the blanket.
They sit, side by side, shoulders almost touching, but the blanket isn’t quite big enough to go around them in that position.
“Look, Veronica, I’ll be all right. Me being under here, it’s just keeping you from getting warm. I’m letting more heat out than I’m holding in.”
“Shut up,” she says, and she lifts his arm and puts it around her shoulders, then snuggles closer to him.
He sits there, holding her, his chest tight and his heart beating rapidly. A minute passes before he speaks again, “Hey, I can’t... I can’t do this. Not if you’re not willing to tr... ” and she looks up at him, her eyes as dark and stormy as the sky above. She reaches up with her right hand and smooths his hair, then she stretches a bit and gives him a quick, feather-light kiss on his slightly parted lips.
He’s momentarily stunned into silence, then, softly, “Thank you.”
Her brow crinkles in confusion and he says, “I’ve always been grateful for your kisses, even if I’ve never said so.”
She melts at this and draws him down for another kiss, this time longer, and more insistent. He’s letting her set the pace, not pushing, but definitely participating, and soon his back is pressed against the windshield as she continues to shower him with kisses.
She comes up for air after a particularly breathtaking one, and when she’s about to descend upon him again, he holds her away from him, “Veronica, wait. What about Piz?”
“Piz? What’s he got to do with anything?” she asks, attempting to resume the liplock.
“Aren’t you two... dating?” he asks, still holding her off.
“God no. Not for months now,” she replies, still trying to get closer to him.
His heart speeds up a little more and he asks, “Why not? What happened?”
“Nothing happened. We broke up.”
Again he holds her away from him, “Veronica, wha-”
She interrupts him, “Look, do you want to talk about it all day, or do you want to kiss me? I don’t see what’s so difficult about it. I’m not dating Piz, or anyone else. Think about it: I’m on top of you, and I’m trying to make out with you. How much more encourageme-” but he cuts her off by pulling her back down to him and possessing her mouth.
At first he’s punishing her for ever leaving him; for leaving them. When he notices she’s not pulling away, he becomes more gentle, more loving than he can ever remember being with her, or with anyone, for that matter.
When they separate, even slightly, he asks, “It’ll be different this time. It will... Won’t it?”
She looks at him in confusion, “What? Will what be different?”
“Us. Things between us. They’ll be different.”
She pulls herself out of his arms, climbs down from the hood and gets back in the car.
“Veronica? What’s wrong?” he asks, feeling slightly sick.
She won’t look at him. “It’s stopped raining. I need to get back.”
He climbs off the car, bunching the blanket up into a ball. “What happened? What did I do?”
“Nothing. It was just a bout of temporary stupidity on my part.”
He’s angrier than he’s been all day. Angrier than he’s been in months. His first instinct is to lash out. To try to cause her as much pain as she’s just caused him. Instead, he takes a few deep breaths, then he un-bunches the blanket, shakes it out, and folds it so he can put it back in the trunk. He stands in front of the open trunk, thinking, then carries the blanket around to her door and offers it to her. She declines, and he asks if she’s sure, “Come on, Veronica. It’s still overcast. I don’t want you being mad at me if you catch a cold.”
She looks at him warily, but accepts the blanket.
By the time he’s back in his own seat, she’s again wearing both of her tank tops, and she’s staring at the dilapidated building they’re parked near.
He doesn’t say a word at first, just fastens his seatbelt, puts the key in the ignition and starts the car. He gives her a long look which she doesn’t return. Then he pulls back onto the highway and drives.
Half an hour later, he asks if she’s still hungry.
She looks at him as if he’s grown another head, and it’s obvious to him that she is having trouble figuring him out. She turns back to look out the window, and after a few seconds he asks again, “Hey, Veronica? Are you hungry?”
“What?”
“Hungry? You said you were hungry a while ago. Do you want to get a bite?” He’s making an effort to treat her exactly like he did before the rain and the kissing, even though all he really wants to do is to pull over in some secluded spot and make her scream his name in ecstasy.
“No. I’m fine.”
She’s lying. She’s not fine, she’s ready to make a meal out of my arm. “Come on, it’s at least an hour and twenty minutes before we get back to town, and then we’ll still have to get you back to your car. If we hit traffic, it’ll be even longer. There’s a diner not too far ahead. I remember seeing it when we came down.”
Her resolve weakens, and he isn’t surprised when she says that the diner sounds good.
Five minutes later, he pulls into the diner and parks in a spot that’s going to be visible from the inside. She gathers up her things and by the time she’s opening her door, he’s already there, holding it for her and offering to help her over a muddy spot in the dirt lot.
She avoids his hand and instead stands on the floorboard, then does a somewhat graceless jump over the puddle. She comes down on the very edge of it, slips in the mud, and lands flat on her ass.
He can tell she’s mortified, and she’s expecting him to call her out on her stubbornness and childish behavior. To her great surprise he offers a hand to help her stand up and after she accepts it, he starts to help her clean herself off.
He’s smiling on the inside, yet caring on the outside. “God, Veronica, are you all right? I’m sorry about this. I wasn’t really paying attention to the lot. I just wanted to find a spot we could see from the windows.”
“And why was that so important?”
“Well, the top won’t go up. I don’t want anyone to steal her.”
“What, you were so excited about the expensive stereo that you didn’t think it would be a good idea to put some kind of car alarm in it? Or a tracking device? And... ‘her’? Please don’t tell me it’s got a name.”
“I wasn’t supposed to have to leave her anywhere, and don’t worry, I won’t.”
She looks away from him again and shakes her head.
“I’ve got some other clothes you can wear. I mean, if you want them. I know they’ll be way too big on you, but at least they’re clean and dry.”
She thinks about it for a split second, then says, “Bring ‘em in.”
She walks toward the diner while he gets his backpack from the trunk. He laughs quietly to himself when he sees her trying to keep the wet and muddy jeans away from her skin. When he catches up to her, she’s inside and has already ordered. She’s waiting near a booth. He hands her the backpack so she can change, then slides into the seat, grabbing a menu as he maneuvers into place. When the waitress comes by a minute later, he orders coffee, a bacon, lettuce, & tomato sandwich, and a hot fudge sundae.
Veronica walks toward the booth a little while later. She’s practically swimming in one of his T-shirts and some light-weight sweats. The shirt hangs on her, and the sweats are rolled up around her ankles so she doesn’t trip on them as she walks. As she slides into the seat, she’s glaring at him again. Daring him to laugh or make fun of her in any way.
Instead, he asks her what she’s getting, then he calls the waitress over and orders a mug of hot chocolate for her, asking if they could put a rush on it. He tells the waitress that he doesn’t want his friend to catch a chill after getting caught in the rain.
The waitress, DeeDee, a large-breasted but average looking woman who seems to be a little older than Veronica, looks at her as if she’s the luckiest girl on the planet to have a man like this being so concerned about her well-being, then rushes off to do as he’s requested. Within three minutes the hot chocolate is in front of Veronica, and she’s inhaling the comforting aroma of the rich beverage. It’s too hot and he watches as she puts ice from her water into the mug so that she doesn’t burn her lips and tongue. As she sips the hot chocolate, she peers at Logan from under her lashes.
He’s looking out the window, but can feel her gaze upon him. He puts a hand up to his lips to wipe a drop of water away, hoping it will make her think of their kisses. He moistens his lips, then looks back toward her.
“Hey, are you okay? You look a little flushed.” Yes! It worked!
“I’m all right. It’s just... it’s wind burn.” He sees her face heat up more at the lie.
“Are you sure?” He reaches across the table and puts the backs of his fingers against her cheek, then against her forehead, “You look like you might be feverish. How do you feel?”
She seems to be allowing herself to enjoy the feel of his fingers on her face for a moment longer, then she pulls away, saying, “Dammit, Logan, I told you, I’m fine.”
“Seriously, Veronica, I just don’t want you to get sick,” and he notices her expression soften.
The waitress brings their orders: Logan’s coffee and BLT, and a cup of tomato soup, fries and a Skist for Veronica.
“Now I know you’re not feeling well. That’s the least food I’ve ever seen you order.”
She shrugs and says, “I can always get something else if I’m still hungry after this.” She tastes her tomato soup and it’s tolerable, so she asks for crackers and starts eating. The fries are about the same as the ones she used to get at Neptune High, and something about that makes her not want them.
Meanwhile, Logan is looking at his sandwich. The bacon isn’t as crisp as he likes it, but he decides it’s not important enough to get it re-made. He takes a bite of the sandwich and catches Veronica looking at him. He chews it a couple of times, then asks her what’s wrong.
“Your sandwich. The bacon is practically raw,” she says with evident distaste.
“No it’s not. It’s just not crispy,” he responds.
“But you hate limp bacon.”
“Honestly? I hate limp anything,” he gives her a meaningful look, then continues “but it’s too much trouble to send it back. I’ll just deal with it.”
“Since when do you ‘just deal with’ anything?”
“Things change, Veronica. Sometimes people change, too.”
She raises an eyebrow at him, then goes back to eating her soup.
“What about your fries, is there a problem with them?”
“Try one. Tell me what you think.”
He tries one, then, “Wow. It’s like high school all over again.”
“Yeah. That’s the problem. I didn’t have one of those idyllic high school experiences, so these? Not on my to do list.”
“‘To do list’?”
She shrugs, “It’s an expression.”
“I know that. I just never heard it applied to food before.” He thinks, eyes rolled up and to the left, then adds, “People, yes. Food, no.”
“You’ve got people on a ‘to do’ list?”
“I didn’t say that. And if I did, how would it be any of your business?”
“It wouldn’t be. It’s just, I don't know, it’s weird.”
“Then don’t think about it. You’re good at that.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Just what it sounded like.”
“Maybe I want you to explain it to me.”
He sighs, “Fine. You have a history of avoiding things you don’t like, and running from things that are too intense or too personal. And while I’m on the subject, you’ve got a definite dog-in-the-manger attitude about me.”
“I do not, and since when have you been the literary allusions type?”
“You do too. You don’t want me until someone else shows an interest in me. And Aesop’s Fables? I think we covered those in English class in the fourth grade. I assumed you had, too. Anyway, I think that reference is pretty much public domain now, but I do read. I’ve always read.”
“Maybe, but you haven’t been so big on the admitting to it part, except for the quotes.”
“Which come from things I’ve read.”
Just then, DeeDee brings his sundae. Veronica notices that she has taken the time to fix her hair a bit, is now wearing make-up, and has opened the top two buttons on her blouse, prominently displaying her cleavage. The smile she gives Logan is clearly a come-on. He smiles back at her pleasantly, and thanks her. Veronica’s eyes narrow, and her lips compress into a thin line across her face. Logan sees her reaction and continues his exchange with DeeDee who’s asking if everything was all right. Talk about good timing, DeeDee, you’re getting a huge tip. When DeeDee starts asking Logan what he does and where he lives, Veronica reddens again, and her eyes start burning with anger. Just a little longer, come on. And he answers DeeDee’s questions, making sure to use her name. He’s just about to comment on how uncommon her name is when Veronica interrupts.
“Excuse me, DeeDee? I think we’re about done here, so if you could, you know, get the check?”
DeeDee shoots Veronica a quick dirty look, then smiles at Logan again and excuses herself to get the check.
“Wow. There really is an appalling lack of straw here for a manger,” he says, grinning at her.
She glares at him, “She was hitting on you. Fawning over you. Not wanting to see that isn’t exactly ‘dog in the manger’ activity.”
“No? What about when you barked at her to get the check?” His expression is practically gleeful.
“You’re insufferable.”
“DeeDee didn’t seem to think so. She seemed very interested in suffering me. Let’s call her over and ask,” he raises his hand and looks over his shoulder to call DeeDee back.
Veronica puts her spoon down loudly and says, “How about we don’t and say we did?”
“Why, Miss Mars, are you jealous?”
“Hah! Of course not,” then, at seeing the look of disbelief on this face, “Yes. All right? I’m jealous of every woman who is on the receiving end of your charms yet never gets to meet the underlying jackass. Even Mac was telling me how sweet you were to Parker, all the time. How come I never dated that guy?”
He sits for a moment, “You did. But you chose to see the sweetness as a threat, and you repeatedly ran.”
“So, again? It’s all my fault?”
“I didn’t say that. I don’t know, maybe we both just paid too much attention to the whole ‘equal and opposite reaction’ thing in physics class, except for, you know, the equal part.”
DeeDee interrupts them by bringing the check. Veronica thanks her very sweetly, and Logan smiles at her sheepishly. DeeDee walks off with enough cash to cover the tab and a very generous tip. Maybe she didn’t get the guy, but she won’t have to worry about her 4 kids eating for the next couple of weeks because their respective deadbeat dads got lost at the track on their way to the grocers. Again.
As they gather their things to leave, Veronica says quietly, “I’m just glad you didn’t get the chance to ask her about her name.”
“What do you mean?” His look is one of confusion.
“I don’t think I could have managed sitting through her explanation of how it refers to her breast size,” she says with a smirk as she’s almost at the door.
“Wait, her...?” he stops mid-step and looks back. When it sinks in, he can’t help but laugh. Veronica grabs him by the arm and pulls him outside.
She arches an eyebrow at him and leads him back to the car, where she avoids the puddle by getting in on the driver’s side and climbing over the console to the passenger seat. His eyes are fixed on her backside the whole time.
He decides to try raising the roof again, and it goes up and latches with no problem.
“This car is psycho,” Veronica says, reaching into the back seat to open the window, just in case the doors have their little problem again.
They take off again, heading toward Neptune. There’s something of an unspoken truce between them now. At least the atmosphere has turned much less hostile, and both seem more relaxed. They ride in companionable silence for 20 minutes or so, then Logan turns down the stereo.
“How are your classes this semester?”
“Meh. Nothing great, but nothing horrible. I’ve got a 20 page term paper due in a couple weeks, but I feel good about it.”
“Yeah. I know what you mean. No term paper looming over my head anymore, but my classes are all right, too.”
They ride with nothing but road noise for another five minutes, when Veronica says, “I uh, couldn’t help noticing the stacks of bills in your backpack when I was changing. Is there... something you need to tell me?”
“Something like...”
“I don’t know. Like you’re fleeing the country to escape prosecution and I’m your hostage?”
He says nothing for a full minute, then, “You’re always going to assume the worst of me, aren’t you?”
“Huh? Oh! No! Really, no. It was supposed to be a joke. I mean, kind of.”
“Kind of a joke, or you’ll always kind of assume the worst of me?” His expression is grim.
She quietly replies, “Kind of a joke, although with some of the things I’ve said today I can understand why you’d think the other.”
“So. She can still see things from both sides, but she has to be reminded to look.”
Veronica sighs. “All right, dammit. That’s enough. Believe what you will, I was trying to be funny. Trying to keep the mood light so-”
“So what, Veronica?”
“Never mind,” she says, curtly.
He lets her stew for a few seconds. Then says “Sucks, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah. Wait, what?”
“It sucks to have someone automatically think the worst of you, doesn’t it?”
She doesn’t reply, and he gives her a smug look.
“Wait a minute. Do I know you? Weren’t you the main perpetrator of the hell that was my junior year of high school? The one where you encouraged everyone to think the worst of me?”
He’s chagrined, but replies, “Yeah. But as I recall it changed along the way. I distinctly remember something about telling all my friends that if they didn’t like you that they were dead to me. That right there should count for something.”
“It did.”
He pauses, then, “I still feel that way - about you.”
“But why?”
He gives a half smile, “You’re built differently.”
“What?”
“Not that. You’ve got different standards than most everyone else I know. Your code, it’s inviolable. Impervious to peer pressure or fads. Even when you’re being dishonest you’re honest about it. There’s a transparency to you...”
“I guess I should be glad there’s no Power Point presentation.”
“Go ahead and joke about it. You’re real. In a world full of fakes, you’re still real.”
“And what does that make you?”
“I’m real, too.”
“And when did that happen?”
“When? Gradually. Over the past few years. Losing everyone and everything? It pretty much forces you to put it all in perspective.”
“‘It all’?”
“Life. What’s really important. How to treat people.”
“Like in the diner,” she says with a nod of understanding.
He nods slightly in reply, “I told you before, people can change.”
“Yes, they can, but most of them never do.”
“‘Invest in the human soul. Who knows, it might be a diamond in the rough’ Mary McLeod Bethune.”
“Been hanging out in the Women’s Studies department?”
“You know me. Always eager to study women- well, some of them, anyway.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I, but the answer is no. That was for a little reading assignment in my sociology class. I liked what I read, so I read on outside of class. Amazing woman.”
“Yes, she was... ”
“What about you? Still planning on pursuing the whole law enforcement end of things?”
She sighs. “The whole PI thing is pretty much a bust, especially after what happened last year with the Kanes. Dad was really hurt in the aftermath, and he asked me to consider another line of work. I thought about it, and finally decided that no matter how good I was, that he was right. I’m still thinking about law enforcement, but probably something a little higher up the chain.”
“Like what? The FBI?” He watches her as closely as he can while still watching the road.
She laughs, “Yeah. Like that could ever happen. No, They decided my background is just a little too colorful for Uncle Sam. So I was thinking more along the lines of intervention, or maybe law. Cliff’s an interesting guy. I’ve been talking to him about it. We’ll see.”
“Yeah, he is an interesting guy. Plus, he hardly ever gets arrested,” he says with a smile.
“That right there is a bigger selling point than you know... and you still didn’t answer the question about the money.”
“I just picked this thing up from Angel today. Paid cash. I wanted to have enough.”
“Enough for this car and two more just like it?”
“No, just enough to take care of any incidentals.”
“And, not that it’s any of my business, but where’s your Range Rover?”
He gives her a small smile, “I sold it. Bought a two-year-old Honda.”
“Wait. You? Bought a Honda? A two-year-old Honda?”
“What can I say? I’m a work in progress.”
“So, is this the era of Logan Echolls: Regular Guy?”
He screws up one side of his face, “Regular? That might be reaching a bit. I’m aiming more for ‘Under the Radar Guy’. Think I have a shot at it?”
“It depends on which radar. My ‘Jackass Detector’ has been pinging a lot less since leaving the diner, if that’s any indicator.”
He smiles, “Thanks, that does mean a lot. Any chance some of the remaining pinging is residual?”
“What do you mean?”
“You expect me to be a jackass, so even when I’m not, you think I am.”
“I suppose it’s possible,” and then they’re both quiet for a while.
Five miles from Neptune, he calls Tom, “Hey, Tom, that job you’re doing for me?
I know what I said earlier, but is there any chance of getting that tonight?” pause, “How about tomorrow morning?” pause, nod. “Eleven will have to work... and uh, Tom? Thanks. A lot.”
A minute or so later, he says, “I think I’m about to make your jackass detector go off the charts.”
“Wow. This is a new one. Advance warning for a jackass attack. What’s the problem?”
“Your car. It won’t be ready until tomorrow morning.”
She shrugs, “I guess that’s all right. I mean, tonight’s shot.”
“So, you’re not mad?”
“I guess it’s like this, I can choose to be mad because you stole my car and kidnaped me, or I can be glad that you’re thoughtful enough to have something done for me that I would never consider paying to have done. Plus, I got to go out in this bitchin’ ride with a hot guy all day. There was food, and some entertainment.”
“So kind of a weird 'dinner and a show' date?”
“‘Date’ might be stretching it, but it wasn’t too horrible. I even enjoyed some of it.” She casts a knowing glance his way, and he doesn’t miss the message in her eyes.
“Remember what I said? About those residual jackass pings?”
“Yeah, what about ‘em?”
He’s pulling into the Sunset Cliffs Apartments lot, and quickly finds a parking space near her home. He shuts off the engine and turns to face her, “Maybe what we need to do is to forget all our preconceived notions about each other. Throw everything we ever thought we knew out the window and start fresh. I mean, if we had seen each other for the first time in our lives today, what would you have thought?”
“Really, do you think that’s possible?”
“Humor me, let’s try it.”
“Well, you are kind of pretty...”
“So, is that a ‘wow, he’s nice to look at’ pretty or an ‘I have to have more of that’ pretty? Is it a pretty you’d be interested in spending some time with?”
She smiles... “I guess it depends on what’s beneath the pretty.”
“But you won’t find that out unless you get to know the pretty better.”
“I don’t know...” she pauses, “What about me? What if you had seen me for the first time just 10 seconds ago?”
He says nothing.
“Logan?”
“I’m still speechless.”
She colors slightly. “Good speechless?”
“I’m still staring, aren’t I? And there’s no gagging.”
“Very charming.”
“Well, I gotta play it cool, you know? Can’t tip my hand too much. So, can we try it?”
“Forget everything we already know about each other? That’s going to be hard.”
“So? They still don’t write songs about the ones that come easy.”
She looks at him, but says nothing.
“Veronica?”
“All right. Let’s try it.”
She gets out of the car and starts walking toward her apartment.
He climbs out of the car and calls out after her, “Excuse me, miss? Miss Mars, is it?”
She turns, “Yes?”
“So, do you think maybe you’d like to have coffee with me some time?”
She tilts her head, then shakes it, “No, I don’t think so,” and starts walking again.
“Oh,” he’s clearly disappointed, but follows anyway, “What about... dinner? Your choice?”
Again, she shakes her head, “No. I’m not really interested.”
He’s completely crestfallen, but isn’t ready to give up.
“How about a drive? As you can see, I’ve got this fine convertible.” He swings his hand behind him, indicating the Le Baron.
She smirks, then says “Sorry. Still not interested.”
“Huh. Well, you can’t blame a guy for trying,” he turns to walk away, and is about to get back into the car again when he hears a step behind him.
She puts her hand on his shoulder, “Hey, um, Logan? Is that right?”
He turns to look at her and nods, his disappointment still evident.
“Can’t you tell when a girl’s trying to play hard to get?” She winks and smiles, then says “Call me, maybe we can do breakfast tomorrow.” And she walks away.
AUTHOR:
hokeysmoke
RATING: PG13
CHARACTER/PAIRING: Logan/Veronica
SPOILERS: All of it is up for grabs
WORD COUNT (in total): 11,982
DISCLAIMER: I don't own these characters. I'd go on about 'if I did', but we all know the "if 'ifs and buts' were candy and nuts" thing. No merry Christmases around here.
SUMMARY: It's just a ride.
“Then why? Why weren’t you with me?”
“Because you wouldn’t let it go. You were determined to get back at the PCHers. You didn’t have time for me when you were caught up in your private war. I was afraid that you’d get hurt. Or... killed.” Her voice has been getting louder with every sentence, but it drops down to barely audible with the last one.
“If I’d known...”
“If you’d known what? That I’d really break up with you? That I’d go back to Duncan? Honestly, Logan, what choice did you give me?”
He knows this is a rhetorical question. She doesn’t want an answer, and he’s not sure he’s got one, so he shuts his mouth and keeps driving.
They ride in silence for a few minutes until Logan turns the stereo back up. A couple of songs later he turns it down again.
“So. How’s Piz?”
“What? Why do you want to know?”
“I’m just...” he squeezes one eye closed slightly as if trying to remember her words before he says, ‘trying to keep the awkward silences at bay.’”
She glares at him again, then says “Pick another topic. That one’s closed.”
“Somebody’s grouchy today.”
“‘Somebody’ got kidnaped and held prisoner in a Le Baron. And ‘somebody’ got more jackass exposure than she’s had in a long time. ‘Somebody’ also has to use the restroom, and ‘somebody’ is getting hungry.”
Just then they see a sign saying: CHULA VISTA 20
“Well, ‘somebody’ better get a grip, because we’re almost there. What’s the address again?”
She reads from the notebook, “98372 Pacific Coast Highway.”
“He said it was 12 miles out of town, so if we’re lucky, it’s twelve miles on this side of town.”
“God, you had to jinx it, didn’t you? Now it’ll not only be on the other side of town, but the guy we need to see will have gone to some other vastly important thing that he just couldn’t miss. A clog dancing event, or a dog fashion show.” She turns her head and stares out the window again.
“‘Jinx it’? What? Are we twelve again?”
“Sometimes it feels that way.”
He waits for a moment, then, “It’s stupid, I know, but I always feel like I’m twelve around you.”
She looks at him, silently asking for clarification.
“Yeah, um, kind of nervous, and hopeful, and... scared to death. You know I was into you before Lilly, right?”
“Then why didn’t you ask me out instead of Lilly?”
He shrugs slightly, “I asked Lilly if you were seeing anyone, and after that she was all over me. She was kind of hard to say no to.”
“I remember. God, how much easier would our lives be if we had gotten together back then.”
He nods in silent agreement, and the two ride in an awkward silence for a few miles.
“You said 98372, right? ‘Cause it’s not here.”
“What? What do you mean it’s not here?”
“Just calm down, let me call him again.”
He flips open his phone and dials. After a few seconds, he starts talking, “Hey, I’m here, but there’s no 98372,” pause, “What do you mean that’s not what you told me?” pause, “It’s 92783?” He writes down the address then says, “Shit, ” Another pause. “Well give me a landmark or something,” pause, “Big rock in the shape of a heart?” he rolls his eyes as he pauses, “Yeah. Ten minutes. No more than fifteen,” pause, “I’ll be there. For sure, man,” pause “Yeah... just wait there a little while longer ”
“Sorry, but - ” he starts to say, but she cuts him off.
“Yeah, I heard. Just who is this guy that he can afford to take Fridays off?”
“Angel. Weevil’s uncle.”
“Angel lives in Chula Vista? Why don’t I just call Weevil? He probably knows almost as much about cars as Angel does.”
“Yeah, well, with Angel it’s kind of a warranty thing. He did the work, he gets to fix the problems.”
“Since when have you been worried about warranties?”
“It’s a matter of principle.”
“Okay, since when have you been worried about principles?”
He glares at her. “I’ve got principles. You just told me about exploiting one of them by dating Duncan.”
She looks away, then down at the book in her hands again. “I’m sorry. That comment was inappropriate and uncalled for.”
“And you’d make it again in a heartbeat.”
She looks at him again, “You must think I’m incapable of learning from my mistakes.”
“Nope. I think you’re incapable of believing you ever make mistakes.”
Her eyes turn hard as she looks at him. “No. I’m well aware of the mistakes I’ve made. I’m looking at one right now.”
“Touché.”
“See what I mean? We fight, and we snipe at each other. We just don’t work together.”
“I can remember plenty of times when we worked very well together.”
“When?” She looks at him and sees that his eyes have darkened and are displaying thinly veiled hunger. “Oh,” she says, and she feels an answering warmth in her groin that’s both familiar and alien. “Yeah. That would be great if all we ever did was lay around naked and have sex.”
His head whips away from the road and his eyes lock on hers for a moment, transferring even more of his hunger to her.
She looks away again, her face flushed, and he turns back to the road, occasionally glancing in her direction.
A few minutes later he asks, “Hey, do you think we’ll ever grow up enough that we can be around each other without doing this?”
“What, you kidnaping me and forcing me to go on some wild goose chase with you?”
He rolls his eyes, “I did not kidnap you, and if this is a wild goose chase then I’m going to be just as mad about it as you are.”
Just then he sees a heart-shaped boulder and points it out to her.
“God, could it get any more clichéd?” she asks, rolling her eyes.
“What? It’s not like it’s Valentine’s Day or anything. I can’t control what nature does with erosion.”
“Maybe not, but you can make sure landmarks like that are obvious when you want them to be.”
“And again I remind you that I don’t have time to be guilty of everything you dream up.”
He glances at the notebook page where he’d written the address, then slows some more and finally turns into a driveway. Angel is there and is about to get into a vintage Chevrolet that’s completely tricked out. He stops when he sees the black Le Baron pull up, walks up to the passenger side door, hits under the handle with the side of his fist, and opens it. Then he goes around to the driver’s side and does the same.
“What...? How...?” Veronica stammers out her questions as she gets out of the vehicle.
“Sometimes they stick,” is Angel’s reply. “Lemme get some WD-40.”
Angel walks toward the open garage door and is back a minute later with a familiar blue and yellow can. He sprays the latches on both doors, then, at Logan’s prompting about the windows, holds back the weather stripping and aims a stream of the lubricant in one spot. Logan asks him to check under the dash for any loose wires that might cause the top to not function, and Angel does so, then fiddles with something. Logan reaches into the car and turns the key but doesn’t start the engine. He tests the windows, locks, and roof. All now work. Veronica has asked to use Angel’s bathroom and hasn’t come back out yet.
Angel looks at Logan and says, “You got it bad, man. Real bad.”
“Tell me about it. So, you think I’ve got a chance?”
“I don’t know. How long does it usually take for her to use the bathroom? ‘Cause she’s been in there for a while.”
Logan’s heart starts to beat more rapidly, and his eyes are fixed on the quaint house. After two very tense minutes, Veronica comes out, looking even more angry and stowing her Sidekick back in her bag.
Logan waits for her to get closer to the car before he asks, “What’s wrong? Nobody free to come get you?”
She glares at him, then looks at Angel and asks “Is this thing safe for human use now?”
Angel shrugs and makes a ‘what are you asking me for?’ gesture with his hands.
“Great. Just frakking great,” she mutters as she gets into the car, which now has the top down.
She opens her textbook again and stares angrily at the page, seemingly unaware that the book is upside down.
Logan casts a questioning look toward Angel who grins and gives him two thumbs up.
Logan grimaces at him for a second, then he gets back into the car. He waves to Angel as they drive off, heading back in the direction from which they came.
The silence is thick and cloying, in spite of the road noise. Logan says “Hey, Veron-”
but she cuts him off by reaching over and turning the volume up on the stereo.
She’s still staring at the same page a few minutes later when the first fat drop of rain splats down on it. She looks up and gets another drop right above her left eyebrow, and a second later another hits her right hand. Logan is pulling over, hoping to get the top up before they’re both drenched, but what once wouldn’t go down now won’t go back up. He spots a gas station about a hundred yards ahead and pulls back onto the road to drive to it.
He’s prepared to pay for the privilege of parking under the station’s canopy until the rain passes, but the station is abandoned. This will buy me some more time, anyway. At least, it will if she’ll talk to me.
He pulls up as far under the canopy as he can get, then unbuckles his seatbelt and goes to the trunk where his backpack and a couple other items are. He soon comes back to the front of the car with two towels and a blanket. He hands one of the towels to Veronica who’s a bit damp. Then he walks to the front of the car, and is ready to wipe off the hood with the other towel when Veronica calls his name to stop him. “You can’t do that, you’ll ruin the paint.”
He looks at her for a moment, then reaches down again to wipe off the hood. Again she calls out, “Logan, don’t do that You’ll scratch the paint ”
“And just why do you care about it, Veronica? Didn’t you say this car was a piece of shit?”
She’s out of the car and taking off one of her tank tops so she can wipe the hood with it, “Maybe I did, but I guess I still kind of like it. Besides, after so much work has gone into it it’d be a shame to mess it up.” She uses the soft cotton tank top to blot up the raindrops.
When she finishes, he spreads the blanket out on the hood and slides onto it. He sits, quietly watching the rain.
After watching him for a few minutes, Veronica joins him. At first she just leans against the side of the car, then, after some obvious internal debate, she also gets up on the hood. She avoids looking at him, and sits quietly, also watching the rain.
“Huh,” he finally says, turning toward her, “I figured you’d want to be alone. Or are you going to blame me for the rain, too?”
She looks chagrined for a moment, then, making up her mind, she looks him in the eye, “I’m sorry I accused you of setting up this disaster of a day. There’s probably no point in calling Angel, I mean, he just checked the roof out, right?”
He turns away from her to continue watching the rain, “Yeah, he did. Has today really been a disaster?”
She studies his profile for a moment, “No, not totally. We did manage to talk to each other without any blood being shed.”
“Yay. Another huge success. Everything else in my life should go so well,” he deadpans.
The falling rain has brought with it falling temperatures. Veronica has her arms wrapped around herself and is trying not to shiver. Logan sees this and goes into protective mode.
“Hey, are you all right? Just sit there, let me...” and he gets off the car, gathers the blanket up and bundles it around Veronica, who, in spite of trying to argue that she doesn’t need it, is only half-heartedly resisting. Only after she starts to get a little warmer does she realize that he must be just as wet and as cold as she is.
“Logan? What about you? Aren’t you cold?”
He looks at her, then looks away again, “I’m all right.”
“Logan, don’t be stubborn.”
He looks at her again, and she’s holding the blanket open for him to come and share it with her. He looks into her eyes for a few seconds, then joins her under the blanket.
They sit, side by side, shoulders almost touching, but the blanket isn’t quite big enough to go around them in that position.
“Look, Veronica, I’ll be all right. Me being under here, it’s just keeping you from getting warm. I’m letting more heat out than I’m holding in.”
“Shut up,” she says, and she lifts his arm and puts it around her shoulders, then snuggles closer to him.
He sits there, holding her, his chest tight and his heart beating rapidly. A minute passes before he speaks again, “Hey, I can’t... I can’t do this. Not if you’re not willing to tr... ” and she looks up at him, her eyes as dark and stormy as the sky above. She reaches up with her right hand and smooths his hair, then she stretches a bit and gives him a quick, feather-light kiss on his slightly parted lips.
He’s momentarily stunned into silence, then, softly, “Thank you.”
Her brow crinkles in confusion and he says, “I’ve always been grateful for your kisses, even if I’ve never said so.”
She melts at this and draws him down for another kiss, this time longer, and more insistent. He’s letting her set the pace, not pushing, but definitely participating, and soon his back is pressed against the windshield as she continues to shower him with kisses.
She comes up for air after a particularly breathtaking one, and when she’s about to descend upon him again, he holds her away from him, “Veronica, wait. What about Piz?”
“Piz? What’s he got to do with anything?” she asks, attempting to resume the liplock.
“Aren’t you two... dating?” he asks, still holding her off.
“God no. Not for months now,” she replies, still trying to get closer to him.
His heart speeds up a little more and he asks, “Why not? What happened?”
“Nothing happened. We broke up.”
Again he holds her away from him, “Veronica, wha-”
She interrupts him, “Look, do you want to talk about it all day, or do you want to kiss me? I don’t see what’s so difficult about it. I’m not dating Piz, or anyone else. Think about it: I’m on top of you, and I’m trying to make out with you. How much more encourageme-” but he cuts her off by pulling her back down to him and possessing her mouth.
At first he’s punishing her for ever leaving him; for leaving them. When he notices she’s not pulling away, he becomes more gentle, more loving than he can ever remember being with her, or with anyone, for that matter.
When they separate, even slightly, he asks, “It’ll be different this time. It will... Won’t it?”
She looks at him in confusion, “What? Will what be different?”
“Us. Things between us. They’ll be different.”
She pulls herself out of his arms, climbs down from the hood and gets back in the car.
“Veronica? What’s wrong?” he asks, feeling slightly sick.
She won’t look at him. “It’s stopped raining. I need to get back.”
He climbs off the car, bunching the blanket up into a ball. “What happened? What did I do?”
“Nothing. It was just a bout of temporary stupidity on my part.”
He’s angrier than he’s been all day. Angrier than he’s been in months. His first instinct is to lash out. To try to cause her as much pain as she’s just caused him. Instead, he takes a few deep breaths, then he un-bunches the blanket, shakes it out, and folds it so he can put it back in the trunk. He stands in front of the open trunk, thinking, then carries the blanket around to her door and offers it to her. She declines, and he asks if she’s sure, “Come on, Veronica. It’s still overcast. I don’t want you being mad at me if you catch a cold.”
She looks at him warily, but accepts the blanket.
By the time he’s back in his own seat, she’s again wearing both of her tank tops, and she’s staring at the dilapidated building they’re parked near.
He doesn’t say a word at first, just fastens his seatbelt, puts the key in the ignition and starts the car. He gives her a long look which she doesn’t return. Then he pulls back onto the highway and drives.
Half an hour later, he asks if she’s still hungry.
She looks at him as if he’s grown another head, and it’s obvious to him that she is having trouble figuring him out. She turns back to look out the window, and after a few seconds he asks again, “Hey, Veronica? Are you hungry?”
“What?”
“Hungry? You said you were hungry a while ago. Do you want to get a bite?” He’s making an effort to treat her exactly like he did before the rain and the kissing, even though all he really wants to do is to pull over in some secluded spot and make her scream his name in ecstasy.
“No. I’m fine.”
She’s lying. She’s not fine, she’s ready to make a meal out of my arm. “Come on, it’s at least an hour and twenty minutes before we get back to town, and then we’ll still have to get you back to your car. If we hit traffic, it’ll be even longer. There’s a diner not too far ahead. I remember seeing it when we came down.”
Her resolve weakens, and he isn’t surprised when she says that the diner sounds good.
Five minutes later, he pulls into the diner and parks in a spot that’s going to be visible from the inside. She gathers up her things and by the time she’s opening her door, he’s already there, holding it for her and offering to help her over a muddy spot in the dirt lot.
She avoids his hand and instead stands on the floorboard, then does a somewhat graceless jump over the puddle. She comes down on the very edge of it, slips in the mud, and lands flat on her ass.
He can tell she’s mortified, and she’s expecting him to call her out on her stubbornness and childish behavior. To her great surprise he offers a hand to help her stand up and after she accepts it, he starts to help her clean herself off.
He’s smiling on the inside, yet caring on the outside. “God, Veronica, are you all right? I’m sorry about this. I wasn’t really paying attention to the lot. I just wanted to find a spot we could see from the windows.”
“And why was that so important?”
“Well, the top won’t go up. I don’t want anyone to steal her.”
“What, you were so excited about the expensive stereo that you didn’t think it would be a good idea to put some kind of car alarm in it? Or a tracking device? And... ‘her’? Please don’t tell me it’s got a name.”
“I wasn’t supposed to have to leave her anywhere, and don’t worry, I won’t.”
She looks away from him again and shakes her head.
“I’ve got some other clothes you can wear. I mean, if you want them. I know they’ll be way too big on you, but at least they’re clean and dry.”
She thinks about it for a split second, then says, “Bring ‘em in.”
She walks toward the diner while he gets his backpack from the trunk. He laughs quietly to himself when he sees her trying to keep the wet and muddy jeans away from her skin. When he catches up to her, she’s inside and has already ordered. She’s waiting near a booth. He hands her the backpack so she can change, then slides into the seat, grabbing a menu as he maneuvers into place. When the waitress comes by a minute later, he orders coffee, a bacon, lettuce, & tomato sandwich, and a hot fudge sundae.
Veronica walks toward the booth a little while later. She’s practically swimming in one of his T-shirts and some light-weight sweats. The shirt hangs on her, and the sweats are rolled up around her ankles so she doesn’t trip on them as she walks. As she slides into the seat, she’s glaring at him again. Daring him to laugh or make fun of her in any way.
Instead, he asks her what she’s getting, then he calls the waitress over and orders a mug of hot chocolate for her, asking if they could put a rush on it. He tells the waitress that he doesn’t want his friend to catch a chill after getting caught in the rain.
The waitress, DeeDee, a large-breasted but average looking woman who seems to be a little older than Veronica, looks at her as if she’s the luckiest girl on the planet to have a man like this being so concerned about her well-being, then rushes off to do as he’s requested. Within three minutes the hot chocolate is in front of Veronica, and she’s inhaling the comforting aroma of the rich beverage. It’s too hot and he watches as she puts ice from her water into the mug so that she doesn’t burn her lips and tongue. As she sips the hot chocolate, she peers at Logan from under her lashes.
He’s looking out the window, but can feel her gaze upon him. He puts a hand up to his lips to wipe a drop of water away, hoping it will make her think of their kisses. He moistens his lips, then looks back toward her.
“Hey, are you okay? You look a little flushed.” Yes! It worked!
“I’m all right. It’s just... it’s wind burn.” He sees her face heat up more at the lie.
“Are you sure?” He reaches across the table and puts the backs of his fingers against her cheek, then against her forehead, “You look like you might be feverish. How do you feel?”
She seems to be allowing herself to enjoy the feel of his fingers on her face for a moment longer, then she pulls away, saying, “Dammit, Logan, I told you, I’m fine.”
“Seriously, Veronica, I just don’t want you to get sick,” and he notices her expression soften.
The waitress brings their orders: Logan’s coffee and BLT, and a cup of tomato soup, fries and a Skist for Veronica.
“Now I know you’re not feeling well. That’s the least food I’ve ever seen you order.”
She shrugs and says, “I can always get something else if I’m still hungry after this.” She tastes her tomato soup and it’s tolerable, so she asks for crackers and starts eating. The fries are about the same as the ones she used to get at Neptune High, and something about that makes her not want them.
Meanwhile, Logan is looking at his sandwich. The bacon isn’t as crisp as he likes it, but he decides it’s not important enough to get it re-made. He takes a bite of the sandwich and catches Veronica looking at him. He chews it a couple of times, then asks her what’s wrong.
“Your sandwich. The bacon is practically raw,” she says with evident distaste.
“No it’s not. It’s just not crispy,” he responds.
“But you hate limp bacon.”
“Honestly? I hate limp anything,” he gives her a meaningful look, then continues “but it’s too much trouble to send it back. I’ll just deal with it.”
“Since when do you ‘just deal with’ anything?”
“Things change, Veronica. Sometimes people change, too.”
She raises an eyebrow at him, then goes back to eating her soup.
“What about your fries, is there a problem with them?”
“Try one. Tell me what you think.”
He tries one, then, “Wow. It’s like high school all over again.”
“Yeah. That’s the problem. I didn’t have one of those idyllic high school experiences, so these? Not on my to do list.”
“‘To do list’?”
She shrugs, “It’s an expression.”
“I know that. I just never heard it applied to food before.” He thinks, eyes rolled up and to the left, then adds, “People, yes. Food, no.”
“You’ve got people on a ‘to do’ list?”
“I didn’t say that. And if I did, how would it be any of your business?”
“It wouldn’t be. It’s just, I don't know, it’s weird.”
“Then don’t think about it. You’re good at that.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Just what it sounded like.”
“Maybe I want you to explain it to me.”
He sighs, “Fine. You have a history of avoiding things you don’t like, and running from things that are too intense or too personal. And while I’m on the subject, you’ve got a definite dog-in-the-manger attitude about me.”
“I do not, and since when have you been the literary allusions type?”
“You do too. You don’t want me until someone else shows an interest in me. And Aesop’s Fables? I think we covered those in English class in the fourth grade. I assumed you had, too. Anyway, I think that reference is pretty much public domain now, but I do read. I’ve always read.”
“Maybe, but you haven’t been so big on the admitting to it part, except for the quotes.”
“Which come from things I’ve read.”
Just then, DeeDee brings his sundae. Veronica notices that she has taken the time to fix her hair a bit, is now wearing make-up, and has opened the top two buttons on her blouse, prominently displaying her cleavage. The smile she gives Logan is clearly a come-on. He smiles back at her pleasantly, and thanks her. Veronica’s eyes narrow, and her lips compress into a thin line across her face. Logan sees her reaction and continues his exchange with DeeDee who’s asking if everything was all right. Talk about good timing, DeeDee, you’re getting a huge tip. When DeeDee starts asking Logan what he does and where he lives, Veronica reddens again, and her eyes start burning with anger. Just a little longer, come on. And he answers DeeDee’s questions, making sure to use her name. He’s just about to comment on how uncommon her name is when Veronica interrupts.
“Excuse me, DeeDee? I think we’re about done here, so if you could, you know, get the check?”
DeeDee shoots Veronica a quick dirty look, then smiles at Logan again and excuses herself to get the check.
“Wow. There really is an appalling lack of straw here for a manger,” he says, grinning at her.
She glares at him, “She was hitting on you. Fawning over you. Not wanting to see that isn’t exactly ‘dog in the manger’ activity.”
“No? What about when you barked at her to get the check?” His expression is practically gleeful.
“You’re insufferable.”
“DeeDee didn’t seem to think so. She seemed very interested in suffering me. Let’s call her over and ask,” he raises his hand and looks over his shoulder to call DeeDee back.
Veronica puts her spoon down loudly and says, “How about we don’t and say we did?”
“Why, Miss Mars, are you jealous?”
“Hah! Of course not,” then, at seeing the look of disbelief on this face, “Yes. All right? I’m jealous of every woman who is on the receiving end of your charms yet never gets to meet the underlying jackass. Even Mac was telling me how sweet you were to Parker, all the time. How come I never dated that guy?”
He sits for a moment, “You did. But you chose to see the sweetness as a threat, and you repeatedly ran.”
“So, again? It’s all my fault?”
“I didn’t say that. I don’t know, maybe we both just paid too much attention to the whole ‘equal and opposite reaction’ thing in physics class, except for, you know, the equal part.”
DeeDee interrupts them by bringing the check. Veronica thanks her very sweetly, and Logan smiles at her sheepishly. DeeDee walks off with enough cash to cover the tab and a very generous tip. Maybe she didn’t get the guy, but she won’t have to worry about her 4 kids eating for the next couple of weeks because their respective deadbeat dads got lost at the track on their way to the grocers. Again.
As they gather their things to leave, Veronica says quietly, “I’m just glad you didn’t get the chance to ask her about her name.”
“What do you mean?” His look is one of confusion.
“I don’t think I could have managed sitting through her explanation of how it refers to her breast size,” she says with a smirk as she’s almost at the door.
“Wait, her...?” he stops mid-step and looks back. When it sinks in, he can’t help but laugh. Veronica grabs him by the arm and pulls him outside.
She arches an eyebrow at him and leads him back to the car, where she avoids the puddle by getting in on the driver’s side and climbing over the console to the passenger seat. His eyes are fixed on her backside the whole time.
He decides to try raising the roof again, and it goes up and latches with no problem.
“This car is psycho,” Veronica says, reaching into the back seat to open the window, just in case the doors have their little problem again.
They take off again, heading toward Neptune. There’s something of an unspoken truce between them now. At least the atmosphere has turned much less hostile, and both seem more relaxed. They ride in companionable silence for 20 minutes or so, then Logan turns down the stereo.
“How are your classes this semester?”
“Meh. Nothing great, but nothing horrible. I’ve got a 20 page term paper due in a couple weeks, but I feel good about it.”
“Yeah. I know what you mean. No term paper looming over my head anymore, but my classes are all right, too.”
They ride with nothing but road noise for another five minutes, when Veronica says, “I uh, couldn’t help noticing the stacks of bills in your backpack when I was changing. Is there... something you need to tell me?”
“Something like...”
“I don’t know. Like you’re fleeing the country to escape prosecution and I’m your hostage?”
He says nothing for a full minute, then, “You’re always going to assume the worst of me, aren’t you?”
“Huh? Oh! No! Really, no. It was supposed to be a joke. I mean, kind of.”
“Kind of a joke, or you’ll always kind of assume the worst of me?” His expression is grim.
She quietly replies, “Kind of a joke, although with some of the things I’ve said today I can understand why you’d think the other.”
“So. She can still see things from both sides, but she has to be reminded to look.”
Veronica sighs. “All right, dammit. That’s enough. Believe what you will, I was trying to be funny. Trying to keep the mood light so-”
“So what, Veronica?”
“Never mind,” she says, curtly.
He lets her stew for a few seconds. Then says “Sucks, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah. Wait, what?”
“It sucks to have someone automatically think the worst of you, doesn’t it?”
She doesn’t reply, and he gives her a smug look.
“Wait a minute. Do I know you? Weren’t you the main perpetrator of the hell that was my junior year of high school? The one where you encouraged everyone to think the worst of me?”
He’s chagrined, but replies, “Yeah. But as I recall it changed along the way. I distinctly remember something about telling all my friends that if they didn’t like you that they were dead to me. That right there should count for something.”
“It did.”
He pauses, then, “I still feel that way - about you.”
“But why?”
He gives a half smile, “You’re built differently.”
“What?”
“Not that. You’ve got different standards than most everyone else I know. Your code, it’s inviolable. Impervious to peer pressure or fads. Even when you’re being dishonest you’re honest about it. There’s a transparency to you...”
“I guess I should be glad there’s no Power Point presentation.”
“Go ahead and joke about it. You’re real. In a world full of fakes, you’re still real.”
“And what does that make you?”
“I’m real, too.”
“And when did that happen?”
“When? Gradually. Over the past few years. Losing everyone and everything? It pretty much forces you to put it all in perspective.”
“‘It all’?”
“Life. What’s really important. How to treat people.”
“Like in the diner,” she says with a nod of understanding.
He nods slightly in reply, “I told you before, people can change.”
“Yes, they can, but most of them never do.”
“‘Invest in the human soul. Who knows, it might be a diamond in the rough’ Mary McLeod Bethune.”
“Been hanging out in the Women’s Studies department?”
“You know me. Always eager to study women- well, some of them, anyway.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I, but the answer is no. That was for a little reading assignment in my sociology class. I liked what I read, so I read on outside of class. Amazing woman.”
“Yes, she was... ”
“What about you? Still planning on pursuing the whole law enforcement end of things?”
She sighs. “The whole PI thing is pretty much a bust, especially after what happened last year with the Kanes. Dad was really hurt in the aftermath, and he asked me to consider another line of work. I thought about it, and finally decided that no matter how good I was, that he was right. I’m still thinking about law enforcement, but probably something a little higher up the chain.”
“Like what? The FBI?” He watches her as closely as he can while still watching the road.
She laughs, “Yeah. Like that could ever happen. No, They decided my background is just a little too colorful for Uncle Sam. So I was thinking more along the lines of intervention, or maybe law. Cliff’s an interesting guy. I’ve been talking to him about it. We’ll see.”
“Yeah, he is an interesting guy. Plus, he hardly ever gets arrested,” he says with a smile.
“That right there is a bigger selling point than you know... and you still didn’t answer the question about the money.”
“I just picked this thing up from Angel today. Paid cash. I wanted to have enough.”
“Enough for this car and two more just like it?”
“No, just enough to take care of any incidentals.”
“And, not that it’s any of my business, but where’s your Range Rover?”
He gives her a small smile, “I sold it. Bought a two-year-old Honda.”
“Wait. You? Bought a Honda? A two-year-old Honda?”
“What can I say? I’m a work in progress.”
“So, is this the era of Logan Echolls: Regular Guy?”
He screws up one side of his face, “Regular? That might be reaching a bit. I’m aiming more for ‘Under the Radar Guy’. Think I have a shot at it?”
“It depends on which radar. My ‘Jackass Detector’ has been pinging a lot less since leaving the diner, if that’s any indicator.”
He smiles, “Thanks, that does mean a lot. Any chance some of the remaining pinging is residual?”
“What do you mean?”
“You expect me to be a jackass, so even when I’m not, you think I am.”
“I suppose it’s possible,” and then they’re both quiet for a while.
Five miles from Neptune, he calls Tom, “Hey, Tom, that job you’re doing for me?
I know what I said earlier, but is there any chance of getting that tonight?” pause, “How about tomorrow morning?” pause, nod. “Eleven will have to work... and uh, Tom? Thanks. A lot.”
A minute or so later, he says, “I think I’m about to make your jackass detector go off the charts.”
“Wow. This is a new one. Advance warning for a jackass attack. What’s the problem?”
“Your car. It won’t be ready until tomorrow morning.”
She shrugs, “I guess that’s all right. I mean, tonight’s shot.”
“So, you’re not mad?”
“I guess it’s like this, I can choose to be mad because you stole my car and kidnaped me, or I can be glad that you’re thoughtful enough to have something done for me that I would never consider paying to have done. Plus, I got to go out in this bitchin’ ride with a hot guy all day. There was food, and some entertainment.”
“So kind of a weird 'dinner and a show' date?”
“‘Date’ might be stretching it, but it wasn’t too horrible. I even enjoyed some of it.” She casts a knowing glance his way, and he doesn’t miss the message in her eyes.
“Remember what I said? About those residual jackass pings?”
“Yeah, what about ‘em?”
He’s pulling into the Sunset Cliffs Apartments lot, and quickly finds a parking space near her home. He shuts off the engine and turns to face her, “Maybe what we need to do is to forget all our preconceived notions about each other. Throw everything we ever thought we knew out the window and start fresh. I mean, if we had seen each other for the first time in our lives today, what would you have thought?”
“Really, do you think that’s possible?”
“Humor me, let’s try it.”
“Well, you are kind of pretty...”
“So, is that a ‘wow, he’s nice to look at’ pretty or an ‘I have to have more of that’ pretty? Is it a pretty you’d be interested in spending some time with?”
She smiles... “I guess it depends on what’s beneath the pretty.”
“But you won’t find that out unless you get to know the pretty better.”
“I don’t know...” she pauses, “What about me? What if you had seen me for the first time just 10 seconds ago?”
He says nothing.
“Logan?”
“I’m still speechless.”
She colors slightly. “Good speechless?”
“I’m still staring, aren’t I? And there’s no gagging.”
“Very charming.”
“Well, I gotta play it cool, you know? Can’t tip my hand too much. So, can we try it?”
“Forget everything we already know about each other? That’s going to be hard.”
“So? They still don’t write songs about the ones that come easy.”
She looks at him, but says nothing.
“Veronica?”
“All right. Let’s try it.”
She gets out of the car and starts walking toward her apartment.
He climbs out of the car and calls out after her, “Excuse me, miss? Miss Mars, is it?”
She turns, “Yes?”
“So, do you think maybe you’d like to have coffee with me some time?”
She tilts her head, then shakes it, “No, I don’t think so,” and starts walking again.
“Oh,” he’s clearly disappointed, but follows anyway, “What about... dinner? Your choice?”
Again, she shakes her head, “No. I’m not really interested.”
He’s completely crestfallen, but isn’t ready to give up.
“How about a drive? As you can see, I’ve got this fine convertible.” He swings his hand behind him, indicating the Le Baron.
She smirks, then says “Sorry. Still not interested.”
“Huh. Well, you can’t blame a guy for trying,” he turns to walk away, and is about to get back into the car again when he hears a step behind him.
She puts her hand on his shoulder, “Hey, um, Logan? Is that right?”
He turns to look at her and nods, his disappointment still evident.
“Can’t you tell when a girl’s trying to play hard to get?” She winks and smiles, then says “Call me, maybe we can do breakfast tomorrow.” And she walks away.