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At around four in the morning, Logan startles awake; the image of Deputy Sacks, slumped over, bloody, and trapped in the car as the truck sped toward them, still burning into his brain. In the dream, Sacks’ eyes had been wide open and staring into Logan’s; pleading. Logan starts to roll over, to get out of bed and go exercise—run, push-ups, whatever—he’s long since realized that it is the most effective method to combat his night demons. He is stopped by the feel of a small arm draped across his waist. Veronica.
Logan settles back into the pull-out couch, a spring jabbing his hip. He’d forgotten, momentarily, where he was. He’d forgotten… Well, if anything had ever seemed like a dream, last night did.
Veronica mumbles something sleepily against his back and presses her hand to his abdomen, nails scratching lightly. Suddenly urgent, Logan quickly flips over and covers her, pressing a fierce kiss to her mouth. One more. One more time, he thinks, as she comes awake and apart in his arms. Once more before morning comes and she’s gone again. Veronica moans into his mouth as he slides into her. She tries to say something, but Logan doesn’t want that. Time enough for words—for goodbyes—later.
So good. Don’t go, Veronica. Never go.
He drives her hard, tears leaking out of the corners of his eyes, until they both plunge over the edge and back into sleep.
_______________
The next time he surfaces, she is dressed—leaving?—and leaning over him in the morning sunlight.
Her face is fixed into a determined expression. Detective face. “The only way I’m not going to spend the day obsessing about my Dad is by nailing Gia and Luke to the wall. Let’s go make ‘em sweat.”
Not leaving yet. Logan clears his throat. “Do you think you’ve got time for me to get dressed first?” He raises an eyebrow. “Maybe take a shower?”
Veronica grins as she straightens up, “As useful a distraction as you might be running around in the nude, I think a shower can be arranged.” She flutters her eyelashes exaggeratedly, “maybe even breakfast if you play your cards right.” Her tone turns brisk again as she leaves the room, tossing over her shoulder, “the shower is through there. Feel free to use anything you need in the bathroom.”
Logan doesn’t know what to make of her attitude. She was so sad and tightly wound last night—she wouldn’t even let him touch her at the hospital—now she is all business and flirtation. And no touching. What is this? Are we friends now? Lovers? Surely she’ll be sticking around town for a while with her Dad… He shakes his head. Way to be a selfish ass. He’s in the ICU for Christ sake.
Logan leans down and untangles his boxer briefs from the wad of sheets at the bottom of the bed. He looks around for his jeans and spots them in a pool on the floor of the hallway outside the bedroom. He lets out a snort. I don’t really think I can keep shooting for ‘friends’ anymore. If I ever was.
It is not until he is soaping himself up in the shower, smiling a little at the marks left on his thighs by Veronica’s nails, that he realizes, Jesus. No condom. Three times and no condom. He hasn’t been bare with anyone since Veronica in college. At first it felt too intimate to do with anyone who wasn’t her, and then it just seemed too stupid. Even with Carrie, he could never quite… Well this should be a fun conversation.
He towels off, puts his boxers and jeans back on and heads into the kitchen, still shirtless. He leans on the kitchen island and watches Veronica at the stove as she stirs eggs around in the pan. Without looking at him, she points toward the counter. “There’s coffee in the machine. Cups are in the cabinet right above it.”
“Veronica,” he breathes in deeply, trying to maintain a stable adult tone, “Veronica, last night we didn’t…” he is fumbling. Smooth, Echolls. “We didn’t use any condoms. Do you need to…?”
Veronica turns around slowly; her eyes are wide. She didn’t think about it either. Falling right back into our old rhythms, indeed. She rushes in. “No. No, its fine. I’m on the Pill and I haven’t…I’ve never…” Her face is red. “I’m clean.”
“Yeah, me too” Do you trust me? Trust me to tell you the truth? He stares at her ear for a second before meeting her eyes. She nods, cheeks still pink. A cautious grin tugs at Logan’s mouth. “Well, I haven’t had to have that conversation in a really long time.”
She smiles slightly as well and gives his small gift back. “Me neither.” She takes a big breath, and dusts her hands together pointedly. “I think this has been sufficiently awkward. Breakfast?”
He gratefully accepts the plate of eggs she holds out to him. He shovels in a forkful, god, I’m starving, before asking, “Have you had a chance to call the hospital yet? How is your Dad doing?”
“Yeah, I called while you were in the shower. He is stable. They’ve got him in a medically induced coma because of the brain trauma.” She is trying to be matter-of-fact about it, but Logan can see the echoes of last night’s terror lurking in her eyes. “They said I could see him as soon as visiting hours start tomorrow.”
“I’m glad.” If he died…
Veronica shakes herself a little, clearing her expression, then fixes herself a plate of eggs and turns off the stove burner. She leans on the island across from him and begins to eat. She adds creamer to her mug of coffee and brushes a strand of hair back out of her eyes. Logan drinks her in; memorizing her and storing up the images. Veronica Mars, right in front of me. The wonder of it hasn’t left him yet. Nine years.
As they eat, a comfortable silence settles. Veronica pushes the salt his way when he glances at it. He gets up and refills her coffee when he notices it is low. This is surreal. It feels just like breakfast at the Neptune Grand all those times. It just … fits. As he finishes his last bite, Logan looks at her, carefully assessing the stability of her mood before asking the question that has been nagging at him since the hospital. “I didn’t want to ask last night, but do you have any idea what happened? Who was in that truck? That was… I mean, it was deliberate, right?”
Veronica closes her eyes momentarily. “Yes, I think so, but I don’t know who it was. It has to be about a case—it’s the only thing that makes sense—but Dad wouldn’t share any information about his cases with me. He’s not … he’s not too happy about my investigating again.” She puts her fork down.
“I know. I’m sorry.” Logan responds, softly.
She impatiently shakes off his apology. “All I know is that Sacks was his source inside the Sheriff’s department. I think maybe he was trying to figure out what happened with Weevil. You heard about that?”
“Yeah, Celeste Kane. Wild.” Logan absentmindedly twiddles his fork between his fingers.
“I think it had to be something to do with that case, but I just don’t know. He never said…” Her voice is breaking up. “He was so disappointed with me, last night, before the accident. I…he found out that I lost the Truman Mann job and he was so…”
Veronica is shaking slightly, battling to keep her voice steady. Logan puts down the fork and pushes around the island. He hesitates for the merest second before pulling her into his arms. Is this okay? Can I touch you now? She melts into him and her arms go around his bare waist. He savors the feel of her. God, I am so sorry, Bobcat. So sorry that my black hole of a life is destroying your world.
He rocks her back and forth slightly and, his voice husky, mumbles into her hair, “Veronica, I can’t even begin to tell you how sorry I am to have dragged you back here. And you lost your job? I am so sorry. So—”
She pushes back, out of his arms, and he has to restrain himself from clutching at her. “Jesus, Logan. Don’t be sorry. Don’t you apologize.” She stares intensely at him and swipes impatiently at the tears gathering in her eyes. “All I could think about last night was, what if you hadn’t called?” Her voice quavers. “I wouldn’t have been in Neptune, but Weevil still would have been shot. Dad and Sacks still would have been in that car, but you wouldn’t have been there. He would have…” She reaches for him and he folds her back into his embrace. “If you hadn’t been there.” She exhales shakily. “Don’t you dare be sorry, Logan.”
He strokes her hair, helplessly. She reaches up and pulls his mouth down to hers in a fierce kiss. Her lips taste salty, like heaven. He boosts her up to sit on the island and her legs wrap around his waist as his tongue plunges into her mouth. Once more. One more time. Veronica reaches down to fumble at the fly of his jeans.
Neither notice, or care, when Logan’s plate and mug crash to the floor.
_______________
“Okay, so what’s the plan?”
The morning moves quickly. In the BMW, they swing by Dick’s place so that Logan can change. He is wearing one of Keith’s t-shirts, accepted only reluctantly when it became apparent that three buttons from his own shirt have permanently disappeared. I sure as hell hope Mr. Mars never finds those. The shirt is short and wide on Logan, paradoxically flapping around his middle but revealing a strip of abdomen when he stands up straight. He notices Veronica eying the shirt’s shortcomings (hungrily?) several times. He makes it a point to stand up straight often.
Yesterday, before the disastrous dinner that wasn’t, Veronica had texted Wallace, asking if he could recommend a student who might want to earn money doing a few odd jobs. Wallace has come through with the name and number of one of his JV players (“Nice kid, but he’s a bench rider.”) Veronica calls the boy—Jason—and arranges for him to make a flower delivery to Gia’s later that day.
Once Logan has changed, they swing by the florist to pick up a bouquet and then head to Mars Investigations, where Veronica needs to use the computer equipment to do some sound editing.
Veronica is hunched over the computer at the receptionist’s desk, mumbling to herself and carefully avoiding looking over at her father’s office. She’s in full on detective mode. Blinders up, target acquired. Veronica locked and loaded. After contemplating her with a smile for several minutes, Logan decides to make himself useful and runs out to get take out Chinese.
When he returns, Veronica is still deeply absorbed. She is playing the tablet videos of Carrie, occasionally pausing and listening to one part over and over. There is a lot of decisive clicking coming from the wireless mouse.
Logan fixes them both plates and takes the food over to the desk. He leans over Veronica, placing her plate in easy reach. Without taking her eyes off the screen, she reaches over, snatches an egg roll and stuffs it in her mouth.
He leans over her shoulder, curious as to what she is up to. She’s got a clip of him and Carrie in Carrie’s kitchen up on the screen. He is teasing Carrie with peanut butter toast. She’s calling him a “punk-ass bitch,” her favorite term of endearment. Logan smiles sadly and then asks, “What are you doing?”
“I’m trying to put together a sound file that will convince Gia that Carrie is calling,” she drops her voice to a spooky horror movie register, “from beyond the grave.” She shrugs. “Or that will at least get her freaked out enough to contact her accomplice and spill all sorts of interesting intel.” She clicks angrily on one of the windows she has open. “It should have been easy, but my favorite sound editing program wouldn’t download and the one Dad has on this computer sucks.” She runs a frustrated hand through her hair. “Sorry this is taking so long.”
“No worries.” Logan steals an egg roll off of her plate, enjoying her focused scowl. Veronica is so wrapped up in her editing that she doesn’t notice for fifteen minutes.
“Hey, didn’t I have two egg rolls? Where’s my other one?"
Logan wriggles his fingers at her and widens his eyes in mock surprise. “Pixies,” he breathes, “I knew they were real!”
A grin breaks through her scowl and she punches him lightly on the bicep. “Hey, you should be eager to keep me well fed. Strong. Lots of stamina.”
“Nah, I like ‘em a little hungry.”
Logan reaches out, testing the boundaries of their…situation. Okay, so sex is still all right, and I can comfort her. What about casual affection? He leans to the side, kisses Veronica’s forehead and runs a hand down the back of her neck and along her spine. She smiles a little and leans into him, bumping him gently with her shoulder. That seemed like a green light.
After Veronica finishes editing together the sound clips and raids the filing cabinet for listening devices, they drive by Gia’s apartment building so that Veronica can scope out the set up before returning to the Mars house.
By two o’clock, they are back in Keith’s living room. Logan is sitting on the couch with Veronica next to him, her legs curled up under her as she sums up the plan. “I called Luke’s office to ‘set up a meeting’ and his secretary said that he was leaving for the day at four o’clock, so you should be able to pick him up at his office and tail him. Remember, we want to see and hear his reaction when Gia calls, if possible.” Logan nods solemnly, allowing himself a private grin when she starts back in. “I’ll watch Gia’s apartment from the roof of that building next door. Once Jason delivers the bugged flowers, I’ll make the call and we’ll see what happens.”
He considers making a smart-ass remark, but decides against it. This is all to save your ass, Echolls. “Call me as soon as you make the call to Gia. I’ll try not to mess anything up. It’s a good plan, Veronica. It will work.”
She smirks at him and rises up on her knees, before throwing one leg over his lap so that she straddles him, their faces inches apart. “Of course it will work. It’s my plan, isn’t it?”
He smiles and leans forward to plant a kiss on her nose. “Your kung-fu is strong, tiny one.” She settles down into his lap, looking pleased as hell with herself. All day, as she’d prepped for the case and he’d watched her, he’d seen the dark looks drift across her face as her thoughts turned to her father. Each time she shook them off and refocused he was simultaneously impressed, saddened, and nostalgic. How many times have I seen her drown her worries in a case like this? She’s so different, and yet she’s exactly the same. God, I want this. Want her. Not just once more, but forever.
“You will be careful, right Veronica?” He resists the urge to stroke the hair back from her face. “I’d be…pretty upset if you got yourself hurt trying to help me.”
“Psh, Gia Goodman? Piece of cake!”
_______________
Veronica is on the case and Logan is more than an hour away, so when she says, “I need a closer look,” his first thought is, Oh crap.
“Veronica,” he says in a warning tone. Why are you even bothering?
“I’m not going to break in. I’m just going to drop by ‘for a hang.” Yep, same old Veronica.
He tries again to stymie her, knowing it is futile. “She could be a murderer.”
“Child, please. It’s Gia Goodman. The day I can’t handle Gia Goodman…” Choose to trust her on this one. She’s got it.
“Okay, look. I’m going to leave Luke to his fun,” Logan grimaces, “and head back to Neptune. You call me the minute you get out of there and tell me what happened.”
“Okay.” Her tone is distracted, already focused on the next part of the plan.
“Promise? Don’t leave me hanging, Mars.”
“I promise.” Yeah, right.
_______________
Logan is stuck in the stop-and-go traffic that always accompanies the merge of the 5 and the 405. He stares at the snaking line of break lights in front of him, blinking on and off almost hypnotically. An hour. It has been over an hour. She should have called. His right foot is jiggling as it rests uselessly on the gas pedal. Calm down, it’s Veronica; she’s the most competent badass you know—and you’re in the navy. She’s fine. Everything’s fine. His free left foot is unconsciously pressing against the floor of the car, as if by pushing he can move the car, the traffic, and everything standing between him and Veronica. You know how she gets on a case. She’s probably just wrapped up. But she said she’d call… His hand hovers over the “call” button on his steering wheel. He jerks it away. She’ll call. Handle this. You’ve got to handle this if you want…
A ring tone jangles through the car’s speakers. As he is jabbing at the button, he glances over at the radio display and sees “Veronica Mars.” Relief floods him and he goes momentarily limp in his seat. The call connects. The questions pour out of him. “Hi. Is everything okay? Where are you? What happened?” He gives a light laugh of relief, but is met only with silence. “Veronica?”
On the other end of the line, she takes a deep shuddering breath. The sound fills the car, amplified by the speakers. “I’m fine. I’m alright.” Alright?
“What happened?” He is clamping down on the frantic fear rising up in him, his tone low and intense.
“It’s… it was Cobb. He… Gia’s dead.”
“Oh my god, Veronica. What happened?”
“No. I can’t— I just… I said I’d call and I just wanted to…” her voice drops to a quiver, so low he can barely hear it, “…hear your voice.” She gives a small, shaky exhale, seeming to pull herself together a bit. “Where are you?”
“Stuck in traffic, about twenty minutes out. God, I want to be there. Are you sure you’re okay? Where are you?”
“I’m at the Sheriff’s Department giving my statement, or I will be once they call me back.”
“Stay there. I’ll come get you. I’m on my way."
“No, no. I’ll take a cab. I need to go pick up Dad’s car; it’s still—“
“We’ll take care of that tomorrow.” Logan’s voice is as calm as he can make it, but firm. “I’m coming to get you. Don’t go anywhere.”
There is a momentary pause, then, “Okay.” She’s really shaken up. “Come quick.” She disconnects the call.
As quickly as I can, baby. God, Veronica, Veronica. What happened?
_______________
Twenty-two minutes later, Logan roughly pushes open the door to the Sheriff’s Department’s outer room. He scans the area. Veronica. Where is she? A door behind the intake counter opens and he sees her blonde head emerge. Quickly, he strides toward her. Veronica freezes, just past the counter, when she spots him. Her expression is carefully controlled, lips pressed tightly together. He reaches her in three steps, grabs her shoulder and wordlessly drags her into his arms. Come here. He plunges one hand into her hair, the other pressing her tightly against him. He feels her shudder underneath his touch, the tension in her body loosening.
The bustle of the Sheriff’s Department continues around them and they are getting pointed looks from the receptionist, but Logan pays it no attention. He leans his forehead down to rest against the top of Veronica’s head, which is buried in his chest. She inhales deeply, then pulls back a little, offering him a faint smile. “Hey.”
“Hey.” He strokes her hair away from her face. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I really am. Just shaken up.”
“What happened? It was Cobb?”
She glances around; the receptionist is still glaring at them. “Not here.”
He nods. “Are you done?”
“Yeah. It was … pretty quick. I have to come back tomorrow, but they said I could leave for tonight.”
Logan starts to maneuver Veronica out of the building, corralling her with his body, never losing contact. One arm is around her waist, his other hand on her stomach. He pulls her in front of him as they walk; it’s awkward but he doesn’t care.
Outside, in the parking lot, Veronica stumbles a little on the pavement. Logan grasps her waist to steady her and she turns in his grip to clasp her arms around his neck. They hold each other in the dark. The faint sounds of the road in the background are almost soothing.
Quietly, Veronica starts to speak, her voice calm and measured. “Cobb shot Gia. He’d been blackmailing her for years. Blackmailing all of them—Luke, Carrie—he had a picture of them dumping Susan’s body overboard.”
Logan is silent for a moment as it sinks in. “You were right. It did have to do with Susan.” He sighs. “God, poor Carrie.”
“I was so wrong. Gia died because I…” She trails off.
“It’s not your fault Veronica. Whatever happened, it’s not your fault. Cobb shot her.”
She nods vaguely, but he can tell that it is not an ‘I agree’ nod but a ‘don’t want to talk about this’ nod. They lapse into silence, still holding each other. Moments pass, as they lose themselves in their separate thoughts. Poor Carrie. Blackmail; it explains so much. She could have told me. What happened on the boat? What happened tonight? He glances down at Veronica. Later. Whatever it is, now is not the time. She’s here. God, I can’t lose her again.
Logan exhales and looks down, catching Veronica’s eyes. “I forgot how…scary this is, sometimes.” He gestures with his chin at the two of them, still clasped together.
“Being with me?”
Logan smiles wryly, “Not so much being with you as being away from you.”
Veronica’s lips twitch upward a little; she is still lost in her thoughts. A moment later, she gives him a light squeeze and then pulls away from him and heads toward his car.
_______________
On the ride home, they are both mostly quiet. Logan’s free hand is wrapped loosely around Veronica’s forearm. She either doesn’t mind or doesn’t notice. I’m not letting go. I’ll fight for this. His fingers trace across the soft skin on the underside of her wrist.
As they pull into the driveway of the Mars House, he asks, “Any more updates on your Dad?”
“Still the same. They’re going to start bringing him out of the coma tomorrow afternoon. The ICU’s visiting hours are from eight-thirty to five o’clock. I want to be there as early as I can.”
Logan offers, “I’ll take you there in the morning and drop you off. I need to drive down to base to talk to JAG during the afternoon. I’ll pick you up at the hospital when you’re ready and we can worry about getting your Dad’s car then.”
“Sounds good.” She sounds exhausted.
They walk to the door together; she unlocks and opens it, then leans on the door frame and looks Logan up and down. “So, you want to come in and,” she waggles her eyebrows suggestively, “affirm life?”
She is leering at him gamely, but Logan can see the deep purple bruises ringing her eyes, the lines of strain and tension etched into her face. She needs sleep. He leans forward and captures her mouth in a slow and tender kiss, keeping the pressure steady. Every time they’ve come together over the last twenty-four hours it has been fierce and urgent, desperate and grasping. (‘One more. Just one more time.’) Logan’s hands frame Veronica’s face as the kiss deepens. I’m going to trust that this isn’t the end; that this won’t be my last opportunity to be with her. They move into the living room, still kissing long, slow, languid kisses, all open mouths and breathing into each other. Logan kicks the door shut.
He pulls away slightly, their faces still pressed together cheek to cheek. “Let’s just sleep for a while, hmm?” Let me take care of you. “It’s been a long night.”
They go back to the bedroom, Veronica leaning into Logan’s side, her hand under his t-shirt rubbing light circles on the small of his back. They undress slowly, Logan shucking down to his boxers and Veronica putting back on her blue sleep shirt. Logan smiles at the sight. He holds out his hand to her and she takes it as they climb into bed, lying face to face and falling into another gentle, drugging kiss that seems to last forever. Finally, Veronica turns over so that she is curled up against him, spoon style, and Logan clasps his arms around her tightly until they both fall asleep.
_______________
In the morning, Logan wakes to Veronica’s hot, wet mouth on him. He groans and tries to pull her up, but she resists. Her eyes blaze at him.
Nearly an hour later, he crawls up the bed towards her. She is red faced and God, so beautiful. He smirks lightly. “So…life affirmed?
“You bet.”
I want this.
They shower and eat breakfast, falling easily into the same rhythm as the previous day. A meal is shared, plans are made, clean up duties are divvied up evenly.
When he drops Veronica off at the hospital, she leans over and gives him a quick kiss on the mouth before saying, “I’ll call you and let you know when to pick me up.”
I want this life. I need this life.
_______________
Logan picks Veronica up outside of Neptune General at just after five o’clock. She looks tired and cranky from spending the day crammed into various pieces of hospital furniture.
“How is your Dad?”
“He’s…he’s awake. They brought him out of the coma this afternoon and I got to say ‘hi’” Tears are forming in her eyes “Oh god, Logan. He looks so…”
Logan lays his hand on her leg, his thumb rubbing quiet circles on the side of her knee. “What do the doctors say?”
“That he’ll have a long recovery, but that he’ll be alright.” She sighs, heavily. “They don’t think that there will be any permanent…brain damage.” The words are hard for her to get out. Veronica looks sad and lost for a minute against the plush leather of the car seat, and then she gives herself a shake and offers him an overly bright grin. “Where to now, sailor?”
Logan’s lips curve sadly in sympathy, but he doesn’t push the topic. This is going to be a long road for her. “Did you eat?”
“Lunch.” She makes a face, indicating what she thought of the hospital cafeteria’s food. “But not dinner.”
“We can pick something up after we get your Dad’s car.”
“Can we also stop by Mars Investigations? I want to put Dad’s equipment back.”
“Sure, let’s go there first. It’s on the way.”
_______________
Mars Investigations is almost eerily quiet. Veronica pulls the old fashioned bugs out of her bag and slides them back into the drawer of a filing cabinet behind the receptionist’s desk. She is quiet and seems in a contemplative mood.
Logan stands silently in place and watches as Veronica walks around the room. She runs her fingers lightly across Keith’s name, emblazoned on the door to his office. She picks up a camera from the end table by the couch and sets it back down on the windowsill. She frowns at the teetering pile of files that is threatening to fall off of the edge of the receptionist’s desk.
She looks so at home. As many stockpiled images as he has of her smiling up at him from his arms, or blissed out in his bed, there are an equal amount of precious memories of her with her camera in hand, or flipping through a file, or staring down at a computer screen. Veronica leans against the windowsill, gazing out at the parking lot. She can’t leave. Fight, Echolls.
Not able to hold it in any longer, Logan speaks, his voice firm and clear. “Veronica, I know you have a life in New York now and that my job makes things difficult, but I don’t want to lose you again. I know I’m grieving and you’re rebounding, but I don’t care.” Blood is pounding in his ears—so much is on the line, here—but he keeps himself steady. “I want us again. I don’t want this to just be a reunion fling.” He stops abruptly. I could go on for hours, but that is really the heart of it right there. Don’t babble. His nerves ratchet up as she continues to stare out the window for a silent beat. Despite himself, he tosses out one more comment—teasing, desperate. “Do you think a big shot New York lawyer could handle the long distance thing?”
Veronica turns around slowly, her expression inscrutable. “I’m staying.” She waves her hand around the office. “This is me. I tried… I thought…” She shakes her head impatiently. “Investigating is what I want to do. Here in Neptune.”
That doesn’t really answer my question. Logan stands, frozen, holding his breath. What about me? Do you want us too? I’m here. I want it all with you. He opens his mouth—to say what, he doesn’t know—when Veronica steps toward him, wrapping her arms around his waist. “This is me,” she says, quietly but firmly, as she leans into him. Logan can feel their hearts pounding in unison. Their breathing seems unnaturally loud in the stillness of the room.
“So, we’re doing this, huh?” He tries for casual. Utterly fails. His mind is a blank void of please.
Her voice is soft, but not hesitant, as she breathes into his chest. “Yeah.”
Logan can feel a giddy grin breaking out on his face. He laughs, low and wild, and hauls Veronica up against his body so that their foreheads are touching. He whirls them in dizzy circles, showering her face—lips, cheeks, nose, ear—with little kisses. She laughs up at him and he presses them into the wall. Veronica lunges forward and captures his mouth in a joyful kiss. They stay, pressed together, smiling into each other’s mouths for a long moment.
Slowly, he releases Veronica to slide down his body. His cheek muscles seem incapable of relaxing out of a smile.
“Well, Mars, I think its safe to say I'm pleased about this development.”
“I, on the other hand, am completely depressed.” She leans up and pecks a kiss on his chin. “Come on, let’s blow this popsicle stand.”
Outside, they get into Logan’s BMW. Instead of buckling her seatbelt, though, Veronica turns to face him. Her grin has turned slightly troubled, but she tries to maintain a jocular tone. “But seriously folks, since you’ll be cleared of all charges, does this mean you’ll be deploying with your…squadron?”
He nods, confirming both Veronica’s assumption and her terminology, his own grin fading into a more serious mien.
She bites her lip. “In…?”
“About two weeks.”
She seems to deflate a bit. “Jesus, Logan.”
He nods again, eyes boring into hers, soft and sad. He reaches up and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “I know. Our timing is amazing, as always.” Still want me?
She nods a little, as though answering his thought. “What you said, before, about it being scary being away from me?” He gazes into her eyes. “It’s scary for me too now, Lieutenant.”
Logan presses a kiss to her forehead. “I know. Can you…handle it?” He pulls back to search her face.
A faint smile touches her lips. “I’m Veronica Mars. I can handle anything.”
Logan chuckles, letting the admiration he feels for her shine out of him. “Damn right.”
They both buckle up and Logan pulls out of the lot.
“Two weeks, huh?” Veronica slides on her sunglasses and tosses him a little smile. “I guess we’d better make the most of it”
Logan beams suddenly, giddiness welling up in him again. So happy. “Okay, car first or dinner first?”
“Car first. I’m planning to pass out on top of you the moment we finish dinner.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
As Logan pulls the BMW up to a stoplight, Veronica holds out her hand—palm up, fingers splayed—to him across the center console. He reaches out and laces his fingers through hers. Bringing their clasped hands briefly to his mouth, Logan presses a kiss to the back of Veronica’s hand. She squeezes his fingers in response and they share a silent smile.
The light turns green. One handed, Logan turns onto the road and they head off into the night together, fingers still intertwined.