Summary: A little bit AU. Hannah. Oh, how you want to be on the receiving end of that look. Oneshot.

Disclaimer: Nope, I still don't own anything. Go away now.

A/N: I've been so tempted to write this for the longest time; I just finally got a solid concept in my head so that I could. This isn't exactly for Hannah fans. Huge thanks to Ashley for the encouragement and enthusiasm (because she's very good at that). I seem to have a second-person p.o.v. fetish right now… odd. Anyway, reviews are love.


You think you know him; swear he's different than the tabloids make him out to be. You think he's wonderful, sweet, compassionate, and a damn good kisser to boot. But sadly, you don't, and you just can't find the time to care.

At least he pays attention to you when you're in public, now.

He treated you like a stranger for the first few weeks of your relationship and you hated it. You wanted to call him out on it, scream at him for ignoring you in favor of that stupid, blonde surfer boy he's constantly hanging out with. You cried over it, once, and your best friend told you to dump him before you got hurt.

But you couldn't do that and you're glad you didn't, because he kisses you in front of people now and you rather like it that way.


You don't know who the hell this person is. You only know that she's skanky and brunette and she has a very high-pitched voice. Logan comes out of his bedroom and smiles when he sees her, greeting her with a snarky comment and a kiss on the cheek.

Kendall Casablancas, you later find out.

The name makes you unhappy, for some reason, and you frown when Logan turns his attention away from you and toward this intruder. You think they might have some sort of history, and that doesn't settle well in your stomach.

But Logan wouldn't ever be involved with someone so annoying. No way.

Kendall aims a sassy smile your way and asks Logan if he's having fun with the school girl. He rolls his eyes and the brunette grins at him, blowing him a kiss as she heads for the door. She tells you to take care of him, and promises you can call her if you ever need any pointers.

And suddenly you think you don't know him very well at all.

Later, when you ask him who she is, he responds that she's an ex and leaves it at that. You spend the rest of the night pouting while he focuses his attention on the movie you rented. This is not the way it's supposed to be.


You automatically dislike Veronica Mars. There's a feeling in your gut that says you should, and you cling to that feeling like it's your saving grace.

Not that you need one, exactly. You're mostly innocent as it is.

But she's short and blonde and witty and smart and you don't like the way your boyfriend looks at her. He gets this glazed-over look in his copper brown eyes and you think it's simply unfair that you know so little about his past. You try and get his attention but he easily waves you off, that look growing more intense with every passing second that you sit there trying to ignore it.

Oh, how you want to be on the receiving end of that look.

Veronica sends him meaningful glances she thinks you don't see and Logan becomes an asshole whenever she's around. You want to smack him and ask him what the hell it is that she has that you don't, but you don't like profanity and you're not that brave.

What really pisses you off, though, is the way he kisses you every time she's looking. And he kisses you like he means it and it makes your blood boil but it kind of feels good, too.

So you deal.

But this is not the way it's supposed to be; not the way it's supposed to be at all.


You see that Kendall person when you're shopping one weekend and you stand up as tall as you can and approach her while she yells at one of the sales assistants. She gets your name wrong and you sharply correct her before asking her about Logan.

She tells you he's a good fuck and you blush at the sound of the word.

When you ask her how long they were together she laughs and tells you they weren't. You must look confused because she smiles and pats the top of your head before telling you that you're too naïve to understand.

Your arms fold across your chest defensively and she smiles again, only this time it's more of a grin and she laughs when she opens her mouth to respond. She tells you they were nothing more than fuck buddies. She needed a playmate, he wanted a rebound, and she didn't mind being under him during that time.

The carpet is incredibly fascinating, you decide, and she doesn't comment on your blush but you think you kind of want her to.


He ignores you at lunch one day and you frown in confusion as he walks past your usual table. You follow his path with your eyes and they widen when you see him sit down across from Veronica.

The other blonde smiles at him and they start an animated conversation that you can't hear, and it makes you mad but there's nothing you can do. You watch as he pushes her shoulder and she sticks out her tongue, and then she's typing something on her laptop and you can't ignore the looks he gives her as he hovers over her shoulder to see the screen.

You really don't like Veronica Mars.

But apparently your boyfriend does.


When you ask him about his feelings for Veronica he stares at you like you're crazy. You tell him what you saw at lunch that afternoon and he shakes his head with an easy-going smile.

And you believe him when he says he needed her help.

But you still can't shake the feeling that something's about to go wrong.

So after your mother yells at you for dating an accused murderer and the son of a rapist, you ask him to sleep with you because you think it's time. He drives you to his suite at the Neptune Grand and it's not as nice as you thought it would be.

You try not to think about blonde girls and fuck buddies when he drives you home after, but a part of you can't help it and you kind of wish you'd waited.


He breaks up with you and you cry. You completely break down in the backseat of the bus and your best friend resists the urge to say "I told you so." You don't bother to tell her about your night with him, or conversations with brunette skanks in department stores or blond P.I.'s with waitress jobs.

But you do tell her that you're sorry you trusted him.

It doesn't really fix anything but it puts it out in the open and you pretend it doesn't hurt to have to avoid him for the next three days.


He doesn't call.

You find out why when you see his hands tangled in Veronica's hair, her back pressed against the wall of the movie theater and her messenger bag lying at her feet. Tears sting your eyes and you frantically wipe them away, cursing yourself for falling for him.

Drug addict or not, your father was right, and you'd do well to listen to your daddy more often. He loves you and he tells you these things to protect you, so ignoring him just isn't fair to either of you.

And Logan Echolls is a bad guy, no matter how much you claimed to have known him.