Part of the final gift for poetrytoprose
Title: Anytime
Author: fickledame
Characters: Veronica/Logan
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1025
Spoilers: Season three. Set a few weeks after S3 ended.
Thanks: Thank you to moire2 for reading over this!
Summary: The voice was as familiar to her as her own. It was the voice that whispered through her dreams nightly for the past several years.
Author’s Note: This is for poetrytoprose. First of all I’m so sorry at the horrendous lateness of this fic. I was ill, then had writer’s block, so I am very sorry. Secondly, this is not your gift exactly - this is a small fic to apologise for the major lateness of your actual gift which has had a slight delay with my beta reader! Hopefully I’ll be posting it soon!
***
If there was one thing that Veronica hated, it was shopping. The biggest reason was that shopping equalled people and particularly annoying ones at that.
The worst on her list were the ones that decided to stop to have a conversation right where she wanted to get something. Then there were the kids that ran around screaming, almost knocking her over. The old ladies that huffed if she dared to try and overtake them because she didn’t want to walk at five miles an hour. Not to mention the unhelpful workers who just shrugged when she asked where to find something. Then, when she finally found the obscure place they had decided to move their products to - they’d run out of the one she’d wanted anyway.
Oh yes, Veronica Mars hated shopping, which is why she decided to leave picking up the things she needed for her summer in Virginia until late the night before.
Veronica breezed in through the large open doors, squinting slightly at the harsh artificial lighting that ran along the store. Reaching down, she grabbed a basket whilst trying to stifle a yawn. Her longest vacation in her life had been a week at her Grandma’s house in Sacramento, so she had no idea how to pack for a few months. She was completely exhausted from repacking her stuff three times that afternoon, not wanting to show up at the academy with mountains of stuff, looking girly. At the same time, she didn’t want to forget everything and be unorganised. In the end she’d decided on the bare essentials, as well as a sprinkling of photographs to help keep the homesickness at bay.
She reached the toiletries aisle and headed down, picking up some toothpaste, a bottle of strawberry shower gel before coming to stop in front of the shampoo. With a frown she took in the wide array of bottles, trying to pick which one she wanted.
“I always liked the chamomile, passion flower and aloe vera one that you had.” The voice startled her and she jumped. The voice was as familiar to her as her own. It was the voice that whispered through her dreams nightly for the past several years. How could she not know it? She turned slowly to see the owner of the voice casually leaning against the shelves next to her, with a bottle of two-in-one in his hand.
“It’s kind of sad you know exactly what’s in my shampoo,” she said dryly.
“If it’s lurking in the shower, I’m going to read it,” he said, lifting his shoulders up briefly, before he added with a smirk, “What else is there to do?”
Veronica raised her eyebrow. So wasn’t going there. “Not a clue,” she shut down quickly. “What brings you here? Your maid refuse to do everything for you?”
“We rich boys have to do something for ourselves sometimes, right? A little retail therapy never harmed anyone,” he said in a faux-fey tone.
“You’re such a girl, Logan,” she said teasingly, shaking her head.
Logan smiled and it struck her how open and relaxed he looked. His hair tips had even got a few blonde streaks in, making his overall appearance seem lighter. He was dressed simply in a short-sleeved green t-shirt and a pair of jeans.
“What are you doing here so late anyway?” he asked.
“I’m going away tomorrow,” she said, realising he didn’t know her news. It felt wrong that he didn’t know something so important about her. “I got into an FBI internship.”
He suddenly stood up straight, his eyes lighting up. “Veronica, that’s amazing!”
She looked down with a reluctant grin, mortified to feel a blush appear on her cheeks. “Thanks.”
“Your dad must be proud,” he commented.
“He’s positively bouncy,” she laughed. “Keeps announcing it to everyone, including the mailman. I’ve had to lock him up before he embarrassed me to death.”
Logan smiled, his hands tucked in his pockets as he shifted about on his feet. “I dunno, I think it’s nice.”
Veronica felt a familiar stab of guilt for complaining about something she took for granted. She looked away, trying not to feel uncomfortable.
“So when do you get back?” Logan asked.
“A week before college starts again,” Veronica said with a grimace. “But it beats slaving at Java, I guess,” she said, shifting her basket to her other arm. “Are you still going surfing with Dick?”
“Nah, his dad came home, wanted to bond with his son before life in the big house. We might go later on in the summer though, just to get out of Neptune.”
“That’s always a plus.” There was silence for a second before she took a deep breath. “I don’t really say this often, but I wanted to thank you for what happened in the cafeteria. It meant a lot.”
“Anytime,” he said steadily.
She met his brown eyes carefully. “I know.”
His eyes widened slightly and they shared a brief look of understanding.
“You don’t have to or anything, but it would be great to keep in touch over the summer,” Veronica suggested hesitantly.
Logan looked pleased before he said, “That’s what computers were invented for, right?”
“I thought it was so I could check up on people, but communication works too,” she joked. Glancing down at her empty basket, she grimaced. “I better grab some stuff before the store closes,” Veronica said apologetically.
He nodded. “And I’d still go with this shampoo,” he replied, pointing towards a red bottle.
“At your demand,” she laughed, picking it up. “Do I need to clear the rest of my list with you?”
“Nah, you can pick your own tampons,” he said, wrinkling his nose as he backed down the aisle. He lifted his fingers in a small wave. “I’ll talk to you soon,” he promised.
“I look forward to it,” she answered warmly and watched as he disappeared out of view.
Veronica decided that if her arm was twisted and painfully at that, she could agree that on occasion, shopping wasn’t as bad as she thought it would be.
Not that she would admit that to anyone.
fin
Author: fickledame
Characters: Veronica/Logan
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1025
Spoilers: Season three. Set a few weeks after S3 ended.
Thanks: Thank you to moire2 for reading over this!
Summary: The voice was as familiar to her as her own. It was the voice that whispered through her dreams nightly for the past several years.
Author’s Note: This is for poetrytoprose. First of all I’m so sorry at the horrendous lateness of this fic. I was ill, then had writer’s block, so I am very sorry. Secondly, this is not your gift exactly - this is a small fic to apologise for the major lateness of your actual gift which has had a slight delay with my beta reader! Hopefully I’ll be posting it soon!
***
If there was one thing that Veronica hated, it was shopping. The biggest reason was that shopping equalled people and particularly annoying ones at that.
The worst on her list were the ones that decided to stop to have a conversation right where she wanted to get something. Then there were the kids that ran around screaming, almost knocking her over. The old ladies that huffed if she dared to try and overtake them because she didn’t want to walk at five miles an hour. Not to mention the unhelpful workers who just shrugged when she asked where to find something. Then, when she finally found the obscure place they had decided to move their products to - they’d run out of the one she’d wanted anyway.
Oh yes, Veronica Mars hated shopping, which is why she decided to leave picking up the things she needed for her summer in Virginia until late the night before.
Veronica breezed in through the large open doors, squinting slightly at the harsh artificial lighting that ran along the store. Reaching down, she grabbed a basket whilst trying to stifle a yawn. Her longest vacation in her life had been a week at her Grandma’s house in Sacramento, so she had no idea how to pack for a few months. She was completely exhausted from repacking her stuff three times that afternoon, not wanting to show up at the academy with mountains of stuff, looking girly. At the same time, she didn’t want to forget everything and be unorganised. In the end she’d decided on the bare essentials, as well as a sprinkling of photographs to help keep the homesickness at bay.
She reached the toiletries aisle and headed down, picking up some toothpaste, a bottle of strawberry shower gel before coming to stop in front of the shampoo. With a frown she took in the wide array of bottles, trying to pick which one she wanted.
“I always liked the chamomile, passion flower and aloe vera one that you had.” The voice startled her and she jumped. The voice was as familiar to her as her own. It was the voice that whispered through her dreams nightly for the past several years. How could she not know it? She turned slowly to see the owner of the voice casually leaning against the shelves next to her, with a bottle of two-in-one in his hand.
“It’s kind of sad you know exactly what’s in my shampoo,” she said dryly.
“If it’s lurking in the shower, I’m going to read it,” he said, lifting his shoulders up briefly, before he added with a smirk, “What else is there to do?”
Veronica raised her eyebrow. So wasn’t going there. “Not a clue,” she shut down quickly. “What brings you here? Your maid refuse to do everything for you?”
“We rich boys have to do something for ourselves sometimes, right? A little retail therapy never harmed anyone,” he said in a faux-fey tone.
“You’re such a girl, Logan,” she said teasingly, shaking her head.
Logan smiled and it struck her how open and relaxed he looked. His hair tips had even got a few blonde streaks in, making his overall appearance seem lighter. He was dressed simply in a short-sleeved green t-shirt and a pair of jeans.
“What are you doing here so late anyway?” he asked.
“I’m going away tomorrow,” she said, realising he didn’t know her news. It felt wrong that he didn’t know something so important about her. “I got into an FBI internship.”
He suddenly stood up straight, his eyes lighting up. “Veronica, that’s amazing!”
She looked down with a reluctant grin, mortified to feel a blush appear on her cheeks. “Thanks.”
“Your dad must be proud,” he commented.
“He’s positively bouncy,” she laughed. “Keeps announcing it to everyone, including the mailman. I’ve had to lock him up before he embarrassed me to death.”
Logan smiled, his hands tucked in his pockets as he shifted about on his feet. “I dunno, I think it’s nice.”
Veronica felt a familiar stab of guilt for complaining about something she took for granted. She looked away, trying not to feel uncomfortable.
“So when do you get back?” Logan asked.
“A week before college starts again,” Veronica said with a grimace. “But it beats slaving at Java, I guess,” she said, shifting her basket to her other arm. “Are you still going surfing with Dick?”
“Nah, his dad came home, wanted to bond with his son before life in the big house. We might go later on in the summer though, just to get out of Neptune.”
“That’s always a plus.” There was silence for a second before she took a deep breath. “I don’t really say this often, but I wanted to thank you for what happened in the cafeteria. It meant a lot.”
“Anytime,” he said steadily.
She met his brown eyes carefully. “I know.”
His eyes widened slightly and they shared a brief look of understanding.
“You don’t have to or anything, but it would be great to keep in touch over the summer,” Veronica suggested hesitantly.
Logan looked pleased before he said, “That’s what computers were invented for, right?”
“I thought it was so I could check up on people, but communication works too,” she joked. Glancing down at her empty basket, she grimaced. “I better grab some stuff before the store closes,” Veronica said apologetically.
He nodded. “And I’d still go with this shampoo,” he replied, pointing towards a red bottle.
“At your demand,” she laughed, picking it up. “Do I need to clear the rest of my list with you?”
“Nah, you can pick your own tampons,” he said, wrinkling his nose as he backed down the aisle. He lifted his fingers in a small wave. “I’ll talk to you soon,” he promised.
“I look forward to it,” she answered warmly and watched as he disappeared out of view.
Veronica decided that if her arm was twisted and painfully at that, she could agree that on occasion, shopping wasn’t as bad as she thought it would be.
Not that she would admit that to anyone.
fin