She opened the door looking all disheveled and he opened his mouth to comment when she beat him to it. "Hurt her and I swear to God I will kill you," Veronica swore, running a hand through her tangled blonde hair. The loose ponytail it had been in came out with the simple gesture and she tugged her hair-tie onto her wrist, glaring at him as she backed up into the suite and left the door open.

Mac snickered and he turned his head to glare at her. She smiled gently and reached out to squeeze his hand before letting go, following her friend into the room. His glare intensified as he followed her and shut the door behind him, only to find his best friend arguing with the blonde girl over where his new place should be.

There was no other comment about him and his … urm … Mac.

Kind of shocking, but whatever, that was cool. Not like he was actually looking forward to the interrogation.

Dick flopped down in an armchair and Veronica looked up from the paper Logan was holding in front of her face to glare at him again. He returned her look and she raised an eyebrow challengingly as Logan greeted him with a smirk.

Pixie fist of doom, dude. He officially hated being home.

"Veronica," Logan rolled his eyes and tilted his head back, looking at her with an exasperated expression. "I am not moving into a dorm room."

"Well, we wouldn't want some poor unfortunate soul to be subjected to your jackass ways," she sighed and sat down next to him, folding her legs up underneath her. He glared playfully and she grinned, turning her attention to Mac. "Now tell me about your trip while he's pouting."

Logan protested and Dick snickered, earning another warning glare from Veronica.

Scary. Little. Pixie.

"I think you're losing your touch, Ronnie," he grinned and leaned back in his seat, folding his hands behind his head. "I didn't even feel the acid in that one."

Mac rolled her eyes, "Can you two play nice for ten minutes? Please?"

"Let me know when that happens," Logan requested, smirking as he lay back against the end of the couch. "I'd like to be aware of the apocalypse before it takes me."

"Mac, tell your boyfriend not to fuck with me," Veronica requested. Mac's eyebrows shot up and Dick coughed into his fist, suddenly choking on air.

"We're not dating," Mac quickly corrected, shaking her head frantically. Logan chuckled and Veronica rolled her eyes, glancing over at her boyfriend.

"Were we this in denial?" she wondered, smiling. Logan shrugged as he contemplated the question, shaking his head after a moment. He held his finger in the air and Dick narrowed his eyes, annoyed with the conversation.

And his friend. And that little pixie thing.

It was all just annoying in general.

"We never discussed our relationship," Logan said. "It was never defined as anything more than hot make-out sessions in the girls' bathroom."

"Dude, you called her your girlfriend and kicked me out of your house when your dad threw that totally random party," Dick argued. Veronica rolled her eyes again and Logan grinned, remembering.

"Ah, but that was because I had people to proclaim it to."

"And we all know he never denies a chance to tell the whole world that he loves me," Veronica grinned cheekily. Mac laughed brightly and Dick glanced over at her, momentarily distracted by the strand of purple hair that was sticking to her lip gloss.

Dude. This was totally uncool.

Logan kissed Veronica's cheek with a grin and flung his legs across her lap, ignoring her scowl as he steepled his fingers together and appraised his friend. Dick snapped out of his reverie and Logan grinned again.

"Damn, man, you're like drooling."

Dick glared and began to defend himself when Mac cut him off. "But on the bright side, at least he's not lusting after your girlfriend."

"Bad mental image," Veronica cringed.

"Like I'd ever hit that," Dick scoffed, eyeing Veronica in disgust. She raised an eyebrow and leaned back against Logan, quirking her mouth. That damn twinkle was in her eye.

Fuck.

Veronica's eyes rolled toward the ceiling and she quirked her mouth again, a smile breaking across her features. "I seem to remember you propositioning me at the Alterna-Prom," she said slowly. Mac raised an eyebrow at him and he rolled his eyes, sinking further into the armchair with a groan.

He officially hated all things Tinkerbelle-like.

--

He didn't go with her to the cemetery. It wasn't like it would help him to look at some stone in the ground with his little bro's name engraved in it. She had practically begged him to go and it had ended in a huge fight between the two of them, purple strands of hair flying behind her as she rushed out of the house in anger.

They hadn't spoken since.

It had been like three days.

Rolling his eyes, he paused the video game he was playing and pushed himself off the couch, wandering into the kitchen and scratching his stomach idly. The fridge was empty but he opened the door anyway, convinced that food or beer or something would magically appear if he did it enough times.

Too bad pixies didn't have magical powers.

If they did he could just make Veronica come over and open the fridge, and like – boom – there would be something to eat.

Dick scratched his head with a yawn and stumbled back out of the kitchen, wandering up the stairs with a tired sigh. All-night movie and video game marathons were totally tiring, he didn't care what people said. They just wouldn't get it until they played Halo 2 for five hours straight.

It was strenuous.

The door – that door – loomed in front of him and he stopped abruptly, staring at it blankly. He looked around for a minute and then focused his attention back on the unassuming piece of wood, ignoring the salt in his eyes as he walked forward and pushed it open.

There was a quiet bang when the doorknob came in contact with the wall and he wiped his eyes, turning around and walking into his room. His cell phone was pressed to his ear only a minute later and the ringing in his ear was annoying as hell.

She answered after the second ring, sounding tired and frustrated with the state of the world.

"Come over."

And that was that.

--

Dick's eyes were glued to the carpet when he heard her walking up the stairs, and he didn't bother to look at her when he heard her gasp behind him. A second later her hand was on his back and her cheek was against his shoulder, fingers tracing tiny patterns into his shirt. He crossed his arms over his chest and she turned her head, looking up at him questioningly.

"What are you doing?"

Grinning, he replied, "Repairing the wound, dude." Mac rolled her eyes and he turned, finally, leaning against the door jamb and pulling her into his body. Her hands pressed against his chest and he sighed heavily. "I'm sorry I'm an ass."

"There's probably a prescription for that," she smiled and cocked her head to the side. After a pause she nodded her head in a forgiving manner. He grinned again and ducked down to kiss her, running his fingers through her hair before letting go.

He'd missed her.

Not that she'd ever know that. Dude, it was Logan's job to be whipped, not his.

Turning toward the room, he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her against his side. She sighed and leaned against him, nodding her head resignedly.

"We're really going to do this?"

"Not like he needs any of this stuff anymore," he waved his hand flippantly. "And I'm selling the house soon anyway."

Mac looked up at him in surprise, eyebrows raised. "You are?"

"Yeah," he shrugged. "Got my diploma online, so now I'm all college-bound."

She smiled and kissed him quickly before turning to the pile of boxes that was sitting in the hallway. Taking a deep breath, she let go of him and wandered over to the stack of cardboard, shrugging her shoulders as they set about packing everything up.

--

Dropping one last box in the pile that was sitting in the living room, she sat down on the coffee table with a tired huff. Dick kicked a box idly and sat down next to her, nodding his head as he looked at the mess around them. Mac looked over at him and he ignored her, observing their work carefully.

Bye bye, Beaver.

He kicked at another box and she slid her hand over his, silently staring at the mess of cardboard in front of them. Shrugging, he flipped his hand over so that they were palm-to-palm. She didn't say anything when he mentioned the storage unit he'd reserved after he called her.

It was a while before either of them spoke after that.

"I miss him, sometimes," she quirked her mouth and smiled a little. "I'll be doing something and randomly think of him and I'll just … miss him, you know?"

"Yeah," he nodded and slid his fingers between hers. A pause and then, "Still having nightmares?"

Mac bit her lip and shook her head, hair falling in front of her face with the action. "They stopped after I went to the cemetery. I guess I just needed to say goodbye," she shrugged and smiled at him.

"Dude, that whole burial thing has never made sense to me," he scrunched up his nose. "This," he gestured around them, "Is much more effective."

"Why?"

"More memories, fewer questions, whatever," he shrugged and stood up, turning to face her as he leaned against the wall. Nodding, she looked up at him with wide eyes and he jumped a bit at the intensity in them.

When he held his hands out to her she took them between her own and stood, crossing the short distance between them to crash her mouth onto his. Dick groaned and tangled his hands in her hair, hyper-aware of her fingers as she slid her hands under his shirt.

"Fuck, Mac," he exhaled sharply and pulled away from her, though he continued to back her up toward the couch. She ducked her head and stopped walking, biting her lip nervously before looking up at him again.

She smiled and nodded her head, and he growled as he pulled her into another kiss.

The next few minutes were a blur, and when she was topless and underneath him he had to pause to catch his breath. Fuck, she was gorgeous. And she wasn't, like, normal gorgeous, either. She was like … he didn't know, but he liked it.

A lot.

Trailing his mouth down her neck, he left a path of open-mouthed kisses all along her body until he reached the waistband of her jeans. His eyes locked onto hers as he popped open her fly and she gulped, reaching down to run a hand through his hair.

Dick dragged the denim down her thighs, calves, and off her body, dropping it unceremoniously on the floor before crawling back up her body. Mac freed him of his t-shirt and he kissed her again, sloppily.

His hand trailed a line down the center of her stomach and she swallowed thickly, offering him a reassuring smile as her breath increased its pace. Her eyes rolled back and she shivered beneath him, breath hitching in her throat when he trailed his fingers up her thigh. Eyelashes fluttering, she forced her eyes open and took a deep breath when he stopped his ascent.

For a second he was scared he'd taken it too far. She'd told him that she didn't want to have sex when they started this whole … thing. He was about to get off of her when she squeezed his arm, smiling slightly. Mac inhaled heavily and nodded her head, trailing her hand down his arm.

"Just … go slow," she requested, whispering against his mouth.

And he did.

finis.