Title: 'In the Absence of Sun'

Author: Tripetta

Summary: My take on who our mystery late night visitor is and why. Picks up immediately after the season finale. Logan/Veronica angst.

Disclaimer: I own no rights to the characters or the show and am making no profit, just doing this because I love the 'Veronica Mars' universe.

Feedback: It's certainly welcome. You can submit a review or e-mail me.


Chapter One

"I was hoping it would be you."

"I bet," Weevil replied, leaning casually against a post, a troubled expression replacing his usual poker face. He straightened and jammed his hands in his jacket pockets. "Found your boy," he told her, jerking his head toward the parking lot. "He was parked on the bridge, piss drunk, playing gymnast on the guardrail."

After her phone call to Alicia Fennel, Veronica had called Weevil, hoping he hadn't already located Logan and delivered a little of his own brand of justice. She revealed the identity of Lilly's true murderer and asked him to find Logan before the press did. Or Sheriff Lamb. Veronica leaned her head against the door and sighed.

"Is he all right?" she asked. Weevil nodded.

"Except for being pretty much passed out, yeah."

"Does he know?" Weevil shook his head.

"He was kinda out of it. And I don't think I'm the right one to deliver that news anyway." He paused before going on. "Is there someone at his house?" Veronica shrugged.

"Trina might be. And probably representatives of every major newspaper, magazine, and television station in the free world." She sighed and chewed her lower lip. "Bring him inside," she said finally, opening the door wider. Weevil frowned.

"You sure?" he asked. Veronica nodded.

"Yeah. No one'll look for him here. And, after all, I am the flinger of the shit that just hit the fan. I figure I owe him a safe haven for the night." Weevil nodded and headed for the parking lot. Veronica had turned on more lights and was locking Backup in the bathroom when Weevil and one of his pack entered carrying an unconcious Logan between them. She led them down the hallway to her room and pointed to the bed. After they dropped Logan unceremoniously onto the mattress, Weevil's friend gave a nod and walked out. Weevil handed Veronica a set of keys and a cell phone.

"These are his. I parked his mustard-mobile around back." Veronica nodded and they turned to look at Logan. "He's gonna be in some pain when he wakes up," Weevil predicted, obviously thinking of more than just a hangover.

"Yeah," Veronica agreed, walking him to the front door. "Thanks, Weevil, I owe you one," she said, squeezing his arm.

"No," he told her firmly, "you don't." They exchanged brief sad smiles before he walked away. She closed and locked the door, dropped the keys and cell phone on the end table, then padded quietly back to her bedroom. She made sure the blinds were competely closed and drew the curtains over them. Dawn was only a couple of hours away and Logan needed all the rest he could get.

The only illumination left in the room came from her alarm clock as she walked through the room. Her hip bumped the desk and activated the screensaver on her laptop. Images of Lilly, Duncan, Logan and herself started scrolling across the screen. She'd been nostalgic of late and decided to torture herself with memories of happier times when she'd been naively peppy and blissfully ignorant. She let a few more pictures unfold before closing the laptop and stepping to the bed.

Lowering herself to her knees, she gently tugged Logan's shoes off and pulled the sheet up to his chest. Not willing to leave him just yet, she let her gaze wander over his features, features she had come to know intimately in the past weeks. She smiled as she recalled the first time she had met him five years earlier at the Kane mansion. She hadn't connected the last name to the famous movie star at the time. Just another of Lilly and Duncan's rich friends, a little spoiled and a lot arrogant. But with so much charisma and wit those faults were easily forgiven.

Her smile turned sad as she realized once again, as she had many times over the past year, how much she had lost and how much had changed. Lilly was gone and with her the love and friendship that Veronica had cherished. Duncan, despite the recent revelation of their non-familial relationship, was not someone she could picture herself with again. The sweet and trusting girl that had been Duncan Kane's girlfriend was gone, replaced by a hardened and implacable young woman. A survivor. Duncan just didn't cut it anymore.

And what of Logan? Her once friend turned enemy turned boyfriend turned . . . what?

She reached a tentative hand out to his face, but snatched it back at the last moment. As if sensing the movement, Logan opened his eyes and stared blearily at her.

"Veronica . . . ?" he asked, his voice slurred. He lifted his hand and reached towards her, a mimic of her earlier action. He clumsily brushed his hand down the side of her face and hooked a finger in her ear. She repressed a grin and gathered his hand between her own, lowering it back to the bed.

"You're dreaming," she told him. "Hey, better hurry out to the pool, Lilly has a new bikini." The four of them used to play Marco Polo quite frequently when they hit their early teens. It had really just been a lame excuse to chase each other around in their swimsuits, but it had still been fun. "Marco . . . " Veronica began.

" . . . Polo," Logan finished, voice barely above a whisper. His face slackened and his breathing evened out, indicating he had fallen back into slumber. Veronica waited a moment longer, then rose and left the room, closing the door behind her. She let Backup out of the bathroom and collapsed on the couch, pulling the throw from the armrest and sighing.

Veronica didn't know which would be worse for Logan to hear - that the love of his life had been having an affair with his father or that his father had murdered the love of his life.