VM Fic: Reconciliation 1/2, Rated PG-13, LoVe
A Veronica Mars FanFic
Title: Reconcilation 1/2
Author: Zaftig_darling
Pairing/Character: LoVe
Word Count: 2200
Rating:PG-13
Summary: Sequel to Resolution
Spoilers: All three seasons
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of Veronica Mars. No copyright infringement is intended.
Beta'ed by the gracious and lovely
celtic_flickaand vanessagalore.
Logan paces in front of the baggage carousel indicating that it is circulating luggage from Northwest’s most recent flight from Detroit. It’s 11:30 PM and Veronica’s connecting flight has been delayed by five hours, due to a massive summer storm in Michigan.
Logan objected to her taking the flight in the first place, attempting (and failing) to convince her to allow him to buy her the last remaining (first class) seat on a direct flight from Reagan National to San Diego. But Veronica had insisted that she didn’t mind the two-hour layover and refused his offer, keeping her scheduled flight, which brought her home from Dulles via Detroit.
When she had called him to tell him her flight had been indefinitely delayed, she had sounded tired and frustrated. She had also warned him that her phone was dying and that she had (foolishly) packed her charger in her checked luggage.
He is beginning to worry that she somehow missed the flight entirely when he sees a blonde woman - swimming in a gigantic, bright orange hooded sweatshirt - descend the escalator. As she gets closer, he can tell it is clearly Veronica, although the sweatshirt, emblazoned with a dark blue Old English “D,” is at least three sizes too large for her. She looks exhausted, and he watches her search the crowd nervously.
When her eyes find him in the crowd, a look of profound relief crosses her face, followed by a small, shy smile.
He walks quickly towards her, and takes her carry-on bag from her hands. Nervously, he reaches out to wrap his free arm around her and he is pleasantly surprised when she allows him to envelop her in his embrace, leaning her entire body against him.
She pulls away from him slightly and looks up at him. “Hi,” she says quietly.
“Hi yourself,” he responds, and tentatively bends down to kiss the top of her head. She turns her face up towards his, stands on her tiptoes, and kisses him gently on the mouth.
Logan cannot contain his grin. He had been nervous about what this day would bring. They have spoken on the phone every day since Veronica’s middle-of-the-night phone call two weeks before, but he had still been uncertain how their relationship would be defined when she returned.
“So,” he says, looking down at her as she pulls her hand from inside the sleeve of the ridiculously ill-fitting sweatshirt, “did you become a Tigers fan during your seven-hour stay in Motown?”
“What?” she asks, wrinkling her nose in confusion as she slips her small hand into his larger one.
“The Detroit Tigers sweatshirt? Kind of an odd wardrobe choice for you?” he clarifies.
She looks down at herself, as if she has forgotten what she is wearing. “Yeah, we cannot let my dad see me in this. His Padres-loving-heart will be crushed.”
Logan decides to simply accept that Veronica, inexplicably, has become some sort of baseball fanatic (for the wrong team, at that) during her FBI internship, when she suddenly explains herself. “I dumped a soda all over my shirt, and it was freezing in the airport. This was the warmest thing I could find. And of course they only had it in extra-large.”
“And in orange, I take it?” Logan laughs.
“Extra large and extra orange,” she laughs along with him. “I should have packed some extra clothes in my carry-on, but of course, like an idiot, I didn’t. It’s all snacks and books and my DS and stuff.”
“Well, those are the essentials,” Logan agrees as they walk towards the baggage carousel.
“Oh, I totally crushed that Nancy Drew game you sent me,” she says.
Earlier in the week, she confessed to him that she had been lonely during the weeks of her internship and had taken to playing her Nintendo quite a bit. He had shipped a copy of the detective game to her, so she would have something to do during the long flight.
“I thought you might,” he smiles at her. “I mean, Nancy Drew’s an amateur compared to Veronica Mars.”
Veronica laughs, but when Logan takes a minute to look at her, really look at her, he sees her eyes are glassy from exhaustion and there are enormous circles under her eyes.
“You look tired,” he says.
“I tried to sleep on the plane, but you know how that goes. I should have let you buy me that ticket on the direct flight,” she says. Logan almost trips over his own shoes, so shocked by her concession that she ought to have let him take care of her in any way.
“I would have gotten that for you in a heartbeat,” he says. “You know that.”
They stand in front of the luggage carousel, watching bags go by, looking for Veronica’s two red suitcases.
“Well, I just don’t want you to waste your money on me,” she says, “but in this case, it would have been nice to have been home seven hours ago.”
He wants to tell her that it’s the fact that she doesn’t want or expect him to spend money on her that makes him WANT to spend money on her, but he doesn’t want to tread on territory that has, in the past, led to arguments. Instead, he simply holds her hand and gives it a tight squeeze.
The baggage area is clearing out, and only a few bags are circling, none of which are the red, soft-sided bags that Veronica is looking for.
“Logan?” Veronica asks. “Please tell me we are waiting by the wrong baggage claim?”
Logan checks the board again, but it confirms what he already knew - they are standing by the correct baggage claim, but Veronica’s bags have not arrived.
“Let’s go make a lost luggage report,” Logan says, resignedly. Veronica follows him in the direction of the baggage services office.
“I already missed seeing my dad,” Veronica says dejectedly. “He had a flight to Rapid City two hours ago.”
“Rapid City?” Logan asks.
“Yeah, evidently this particular bail jumper he’s after has a thing for the casinos in Deadwood,” she explains.
“When’s he coming back?” Logan asks, trying to keep the hopefulness out of his voice. He knows she wants to see her father, but there is nothing he wants more than to take her home with him and keep her in bed for days.
“Late tomorrow night or the next night,” she answers, yawning. “It depends on how long it takes him to find the guy.”
Half an hour of waiting in line brings them to the counter to make the lost baggage report. Veronica looks like she might fall asleep on her feet. When the airline agent asks what number they should call when they find her bags, she starts to give him her mobile number and then stops, looking up at Logan. “My cell phone is dead, and the stupid charger is in my bag,” she says, biting her lip. Logan can tell she has reached a point of confused fatigue, and he quickly tells the agent to call his cell phone when the bags are located. Veronica slides her arm around him and looks up at him gratefully.
Logan picks up her carry-on and takes her hand, guiding her outside towards his waiting car.
Driving back to Neptune, she pulls her arms inside the gigantic sweatshirt and curls up against the passenger side door, falling into a deep sleep.
*****************************************
An hour later, he parks his car next to small but charming cottage about five minutes outside of Neptune. The cottage sits just back from the beach and has a privacy fence, securing it from any prying eyes on the road.
Veronica wakes up and looks around in confusion. “Where are we?” she asks, rubbing her eyes.
“I didn’t tell you about this on the phone because I wanted to show you in person,” he says. “I moved out of the Grand, and I…well, I bought this house.”
“You bought a house?” she asks, surprised.
“Yeah, staying at the Grand without Duncan was costing me a fortune, and this place came up for sale, and it’s so close to the beach. I can just walk out the front door and surf in the morning.”
“When did…when did you decide to buy it?” Veronica asks, and Logan wonders if he is imagining things because he thinks she sounds almost hurt.
“I bought it a month ago, but I didn’t take possession until last week. The previous owners needed some time to move out,” Logan says.
“Oh,” she says, nodding, but Logan can tell there are questions swirling behind her blue eyes.
He suspects she is worried about how he paid for the real estate, aware as she was of his trust fund issues. He decides the simple, straight-forward approach is preferable to leaving her wondering - it’s not as if Veronica has ever been able to let any kind of mystery alone.
“My inheritance contains a real estate exception,” Logan says, quietly.
“What?” Veronica asks, still staring at the beach house in the moonlight, lost in thought.
“My inheritance, from my…from Aaron…you know, I can’t touch the principal until I’m 21, generally speaking, but it has a clause that makes an exception for the purchase of real estate that I ‘intend to inhabit as my domicile’,” Logan says, as he makes air quotes around the last phrase.
“Why didn’t your lawyers tell you that before? When you were spending a fortune to stay at the Grand?” Veronica wonders.
“No idea,” Logan responds. “I found the exception myself,” he says, sounding proud of himself. “I’d never actually READ the trust document before. So not only does it give me a place to live, now I can use the money from my trust fund to do whatever I want.”
She looks at him and raises her eyebrows.
“Okay, so, yes, before I was using the money from my trust fund to do whatever I wanted before, it’s just that now, without paying $10,000 a month for a hotel, I’m not slowly going broke.”
Veronica turns to look at him and smiles.
“You know, I can make a reasonable and rational decision on occasion, all by myself,” Logan says, suddenly defensive and not 100% sure why.
“I know you can,” Veronica says, quickly. “Part of me is almost a little bit hurt that you didn’t ask me about it, but…I’m really…I’m kind of proud of you.”
He blushes, embarrassed that having her say that she was proud of him meant so much to him. There have been so many times when he felt like he let her down, just for being who he was. He hadn’t make the decision about the house with her in mind - in fact, at the time he made the decision to buy it, he was afraid that she would never speak to him again. But he couldn’t deny that also, in the back of his mind, he thought she would approve of his choice to be more responsible about his money.
“So,” he says, a bit nervously, “do you want to stay here tonight or do you want me to drive you back to your apartment?” He’s trying to sound casually indifferent to her answer, but he’s sure he isn’t succeeding.
“Do you mind if I stay here?” she asks, and he almost chokes. “I’m so tired, but I want to see what this place looks like when the sun comes up,” she says.
He laughs and says, “Yeah, sure I mind. I don’t think I can have you sullying my brand new sheets.” She punches him playfully in the arm in response.
He helps her down from the Range Rover, and carries her bag into the house.
Inside, he shows her where the bathroom is and then he heads to his bedroom to try to find something he can give her to sleep in. Five minutes later, he emerges from his bedroom with a pair of flannel boxers and a plain white t-shirt, to find her snoring on his couch.
He lifts her up and carries her to the bedroom, where he slides off her shoes and tucks her under the duvet, fast asleep in her giant orange sweatshirt.
End Part 1
Title: Reconcilation 1/2
Author: Zaftig_darling
Pairing/Character: LoVe
Word Count: 2200
Rating:PG-13
Summary: Sequel to Resolution
Spoilers: All three seasons
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of Veronica Mars. No copyright infringement is intended.
Beta'ed by the gracious and lovely
celtic_flickaand vanessagalore.
Logan paces in front of the baggage carousel indicating that it is circulating luggage from Northwest’s most recent flight from Detroit. It’s 11:30 PM and Veronica’s connecting flight has been delayed by five hours, due to a massive summer storm in Michigan.
Logan objected to her taking the flight in the first place, attempting (and failing) to convince her to allow him to buy her the last remaining (first class) seat on a direct flight from Reagan National to San Diego. But Veronica had insisted that she didn’t mind the two-hour layover and refused his offer, keeping her scheduled flight, which brought her home from Dulles via Detroit.
When she had called him to tell him her flight had been indefinitely delayed, she had sounded tired and frustrated. She had also warned him that her phone was dying and that she had (foolishly) packed her charger in her checked luggage.
He is beginning to worry that she somehow missed the flight entirely when he sees a blonde woman - swimming in a gigantic, bright orange hooded sweatshirt - descend the escalator. As she gets closer, he can tell it is clearly Veronica, although the sweatshirt, emblazoned with a dark blue Old English “D,” is at least three sizes too large for her. She looks exhausted, and he watches her search the crowd nervously.
When her eyes find him in the crowd, a look of profound relief crosses her face, followed by a small, shy smile.
He walks quickly towards her, and takes her carry-on bag from her hands. Nervously, he reaches out to wrap his free arm around her and he is pleasantly surprised when she allows him to envelop her in his embrace, leaning her entire body against him.
She pulls away from him slightly and looks up at him. “Hi,” she says quietly.
“Hi yourself,” he responds, and tentatively bends down to kiss the top of her head. She turns her face up towards his, stands on her tiptoes, and kisses him gently on the mouth.
Logan cannot contain his grin. He had been nervous about what this day would bring. They have spoken on the phone every day since Veronica’s middle-of-the-night phone call two weeks before, but he had still been uncertain how their relationship would be defined when she returned.
“So,” he says, looking down at her as she pulls her hand from inside the sleeve of the ridiculously ill-fitting sweatshirt, “did you become a Tigers fan during your seven-hour stay in Motown?”
“What?” she asks, wrinkling her nose in confusion as she slips her small hand into his larger one.
“The Detroit Tigers sweatshirt? Kind of an odd wardrobe choice for you?” he clarifies.
She looks down at herself, as if she has forgotten what she is wearing. “Yeah, we cannot let my dad see me in this. His Padres-loving-heart will be crushed.”
Logan decides to simply accept that Veronica, inexplicably, has become some sort of baseball fanatic (for the wrong team, at that) during her FBI internship, when she suddenly explains herself. “I dumped a soda all over my shirt, and it was freezing in the airport. This was the warmest thing I could find. And of course they only had it in extra-large.”
“And in orange, I take it?” Logan laughs.
“Extra large and extra orange,” she laughs along with him. “I should have packed some extra clothes in my carry-on, but of course, like an idiot, I didn’t. It’s all snacks and books and my DS and stuff.”
“Well, those are the essentials,” Logan agrees as they walk towards the baggage carousel.
“Oh, I totally crushed that Nancy Drew game you sent me,” she says.
Earlier in the week, she confessed to him that she had been lonely during the weeks of her internship and had taken to playing her Nintendo quite a bit. He had shipped a copy of the detective game to her, so she would have something to do during the long flight.
“I thought you might,” he smiles at her. “I mean, Nancy Drew’s an amateur compared to Veronica Mars.”
Veronica laughs, but when Logan takes a minute to look at her, really look at her, he sees her eyes are glassy from exhaustion and there are enormous circles under her eyes.
“You look tired,” he says.
“I tried to sleep on the plane, but you know how that goes. I should have let you buy me that ticket on the direct flight,” she says. Logan almost trips over his own shoes, so shocked by her concession that she ought to have let him take care of her in any way.
“I would have gotten that for you in a heartbeat,” he says. “You know that.”
They stand in front of the luggage carousel, watching bags go by, looking for Veronica’s two red suitcases.
“Well, I just don’t want you to waste your money on me,” she says, “but in this case, it would have been nice to have been home seven hours ago.”
He wants to tell her that it’s the fact that she doesn’t want or expect him to spend money on her that makes him WANT to spend money on her, but he doesn’t want to tread on territory that has, in the past, led to arguments. Instead, he simply holds her hand and gives it a tight squeeze.
The baggage area is clearing out, and only a few bags are circling, none of which are the red, soft-sided bags that Veronica is looking for.
“Logan?” Veronica asks. “Please tell me we are waiting by the wrong baggage claim?”
Logan checks the board again, but it confirms what he already knew - they are standing by the correct baggage claim, but Veronica’s bags have not arrived.
“Let’s go make a lost luggage report,” Logan says, resignedly. Veronica follows him in the direction of the baggage services office.
“I already missed seeing my dad,” Veronica says dejectedly. “He had a flight to Rapid City two hours ago.”
“Rapid City?” Logan asks.
“Yeah, evidently this particular bail jumper he’s after has a thing for the casinos in Deadwood,” she explains.
“When’s he coming back?” Logan asks, trying to keep the hopefulness out of his voice. He knows she wants to see her father, but there is nothing he wants more than to take her home with him and keep her in bed for days.
“Late tomorrow night or the next night,” she answers, yawning. “It depends on how long it takes him to find the guy.”
Half an hour of waiting in line brings them to the counter to make the lost baggage report. Veronica looks like she might fall asleep on her feet. When the airline agent asks what number they should call when they find her bags, she starts to give him her mobile number and then stops, looking up at Logan. “My cell phone is dead, and the stupid charger is in my bag,” she says, biting her lip. Logan can tell she has reached a point of confused fatigue, and he quickly tells the agent to call his cell phone when the bags are located. Veronica slides her arm around him and looks up at him gratefully.
Logan picks up her carry-on and takes her hand, guiding her outside towards his waiting car.
Driving back to Neptune, she pulls her arms inside the gigantic sweatshirt and curls up against the passenger side door, falling into a deep sleep.
*****************************************
An hour later, he parks his car next to small but charming cottage about five minutes outside of Neptune. The cottage sits just back from the beach and has a privacy fence, securing it from any prying eyes on the road.
Veronica wakes up and looks around in confusion. “Where are we?” she asks, rubbing her eyes.
“I didn’t tell you about this on the phone because I wanted to show you in person,” he says. “I moved out of the Grand, and I…well, I bought this house.”
“You bought a house?” she asks, surprised.
“Yeah, staying at the Grand without Duncan was costing me a fortune, and this place came up for sale, and it’s so close to the beach. I can just walk out the front door and surf in the morning.”
“When did…when did you decide to buy it?” Veronica asks, and Logan wonders if he is imagining things because he thinks she sounds almost hurt.
“I bought it a month ago, but I didn’t take possession until last week. The previous owners needed some time to move out,” Logan says.
“Oh,” she says, nodding, but Logan can tell there are questions swirling behind her blue eyes.
He suspects she is worried about how he paid for the real estate, aware as she was of his trust fund issues. He decides the simple, straight-forward approach is preferable to leaving her wondering - it’s not as if Veronica has ever been able to let any kind of mystery alone.
“My inheritance contains a real estate exception,” Logan says, quietly.
“What?” Veronica asks, still staring at the beach house in the moonlight, lost in thought.
“My inheritance, from my…from Aaron…you know, I can’t touch the principal until I’m 21, generally speaking, but it has a clause that makes an exception for the purchase of real estate that I ‘intend to inhabit as my domicile’,” Logan says, as he makes air quotes around the last phrase.
“Why didn’t your lawyers tell you that before? When you were spending a fortune to stay at the Grand?” Veronica wonders.
“No idea,” Logan responds. “I found the exception myself,” he says, sounding proud of himself. “I’d never actually READ the trust document before. So not only does it give me a place to live, now I can use the money from my trust fund to do whatever I want.”
She looks at him and raises her eyebrows.
“Okay, so, yes, before I was using the money from my trust fund to do whatever I wanted before, it’s just that now, without paying $10,000 a month for a hotel, I’m not slowly going broke.”
Veronica turns to look at him and smiles.
“You know, I can make a reasonable and rational decision on occasion, all by myself,” Logan says, suddenly defensive and not 100% sure why.
“I know you can,” Veronica says, quickly. “Part of me is almost a little bit hurt that you didn’t ask me about it, but…I’m really…I’m kind of proud of you.”
He blushes, embarrassed that having her say that she was proud of him meant so much to him. There have been so many times when he felt like he let her down, just for being who he was. He hadn’t make the decision about the house with her in mind - in fact, at the time he made the decision to buy it, he was afraid that she would never speak to him again. But he couldn’t deny that also, in the back of his mind, he thought she would approve of his choice to be more responsible about his money.
“So,” he says, a bit nervously, “do you want to stay here tonight or do you want me to drive you back to your apartment?” He’s trying to sound casually indifferent to her answer, but he’s sure he isn’t succeeding.
“Do you mind if I stay here?” she asks, and he almost chokes. “I’m so tired, but I want to see what this place looks like when the sun comes up,” she says.
He laughs and says, “Yeah, sure I mind. I don’t think I can have you sullying my brand new sheets.” She punches him playfully in the arm in response.
He helps her down from the Range Rover, and carries her bag into the house.
Inside, he shows her where the bathroom is and then he heads to his bedroom to try to find something he can give her to sleep in. Five minutes later, he emerges from his bedroom with a pair of flannel boxers and a plain white t-shirt, to find her snoring on his couch.
He lifts her up and carries her to the bedroom, where he slides off her shoes and tucks her under the duvet, fast asleep in her giant orange sweatshirt.
End Part 1