Author: sellthelie PM
VeronicaLogan: Telling me to go, pushing me after the boy he had thrown out the apartment months before. End of Season Two.Rated: Fiction K+ - English - Veronica & Logan - Words: 451 - Reviews: 1 - Favs: 1 - Published: 08-02-08 - Status: Complete - id: 4442709
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Summary: Telling me to go, pushing me after the boy he had thrown out the apartment months before.
A/N: Yesterdays drabble, got distracted, and it's proving a lot harder than I thought to write something every day. Set in the Season Two finale, after everything, but before the scene at Mars Investigations.
There were so many benefits to having the relationship that I did with my father. As much as I tried to hide things from him, he somehow knew what I was thinking even before I did. We had spent the whole day holed up in the apartment, eating takeaway that we had ordered in, and watched Slap Shot more times than I cared for. I was perfectly happy to remain there for a very long time, to feel him next to me, to be able to look over and see him right beside me.
When the credits rolled up for the third time, he shut off the television, and turned to me with a small smile. Telling me to go, pushing me after the boy he had thrown out the apartment months before.
I kept looking back as I made my way to the car, each time he gave me a little wave, confusing me all the more. He'd made no mistake of his feelings towards Logan, so to be told to go see him, rather insistently was bizarre.
The drive to the Grand was short, I parked in the lot underneath the motel, making my way up through the service elevator. Avoiding the front of the hotel with the remnants of glass on the pavement, and the spectators that only death could bring. I halted at the door to his room, unsure of just what to say to him. There were so many conversations that I had with Logan in my head over the past two years. When I was angry with him, when I hated him, and when he twisted my stomach into knots just by smiling at me. The replies had always come fast, and easy.
They were failing me right now. Maybe it was time to play it by ear.
I knock unsteadily on the door, counting the seconds in my head that it takes for him to open the door. He let me walk in without me saying a word, asking how my dad was, how I was. He put a hand on my shoulder, and I step closer to him, wrapping my arms around him, burying my face in his chest. There was no big grand statement in my head, there were only two words that I needed to say.