Veronica ran her thumb lightly against the edges of the pictures of the four of them, all smiling and laughing – perhaps because they were tipsy – and happy. Her own picture was the one that she felt least connected to. The long blond locks were simply… someone else's. The innocence that had characterized her friendship with Lilly was close to if not completely gone.
With one last melancholy smile, Veronica knocked on room 205 at the Camelot.
"Yeah, it's open," Logan called from inside. Veronica slowly twisted the silver metal handle, listening to the loud creaking sound it evoked.
Logan lay on his back on the farther of the two double beds, effectively staring at the ceiling. Veronica's brow furrowed. She wasn't sure she liked where this was going. It wasn't as if she had a great reason to go checking up on him other than to stop that queasy feeling in her stomach, and to, well, check up on him. He, on the other hand… she had very little information as to what exactly he was doing.
"You came." He stated. It sounded as if he wasn't sure if he wanted her to be there, and also as if he'd expected it.
Veronica shrugged, her eyes trailing to the other available bed instead of his. "Well, I was going to say that I came with an answer to your question –"
"And certainly more of your own," he interjected, almost sighing. She didn't respond. Neither of them quite knew where it would go if she had.
"- but I've had experience with your drunken confessions, so I can't be sure if you remember it or not." She laughed a little. She didn't really find it funny.
He smirked a little himself. "I probably wouldn't, see, but apparently I kept yelling 'Can't I get something?' Loudly. In front of the rest of the party. Hearing that tidbit jogged my memory some." He had turned to look at her during this confession, but now his gaze was aimed more toward the nightstand as he rewound the images of that night that ended in him barfing in a sink. Ah, frat parties.
A hint of a smile came and went as she gave a short nod of acknowledgement. Her fingers fiddled with the photos, now even less sure that this was the right return to his reminiscent calls. She swallowed, knowing that this is what she was here for and this was what she had. Nothing would change that now.
"I, uh, came to give you these." She handed over the copies of their fab-four pictures. "As a, you know, nice reminder of the past. I thought you may be thinking about the past these days," she fished, subtly trying to get an explanation of his antics. It had been a while since a job involved actual Veronica, so her coy side was a little rusty.
"You don't think I see through that, Veronica? That I didn't notice that you came a-knocking right after Kate started asking questions? You're a PI. Not to mention the fact that I still know you pretty damn well." The brunette retorted roughly, seeing through her clearer than cellophane.
Veronica's mouth hung open, shocked at being called on her own actions rather than figuring out others' for once. She put "This isn't a job, Logan. Well… it was. But this, here. This isn't anymore."
She felt torn. Ratting out a client was entirely against Private Investigator code, but this was for another case. Her own. "Kate hired me right before you two broke up."
"I know," he sighed, throwing his back once again on top of the less-than-springy mattress. His eyes flitted over the small stalactites of paint that seemed to drip from the beige ceiling.
"I guess that's why you broke up with her," Veronica assumed, a melancholy smile tugged on the left side of her lips. "She learned like I did that not trusting you is a relationship ender."
Logan wrestled around in the floral comforter in search of a slightly more comfortable position. "It wasn't," he stated simply.
Veronica frowned. "That wasn't –?" she started.
"Well. Not exactly." His hands clasped atop his stomach. "The trust thing is a major issue in my relationships, believe it or not. We stars have to trust the little people in our lives." He smirked, turning his head to her so she could see the smug look.
Veronica gave him her patented 'not amused' stare, complete with slight head tilt and eyebrow raise. She wanted him to continue explaining, but wondered how much of his high school self had seeped back into his personality. She also wanted to know if she liked it or not.
Logan sighed dreamily. "Ah yes, that glare. Why did I have to miss that glare?" He turned his head back up, seeking the answer from above. "This'll be the death of me," he seemed to share with whatever being he looked to. Abruptly, he sat up to face the familiar blond. The laughter was absent from his eyes.
"I knew you'd come looking, Veronica. I stayed here for a night a few months back because Dick kept bringing home this particularly loud bimbo, and I needed to study. Shock, I know," he said, preempting whatever witty comment she may see fit to slip in. "But being alone was nice. Actually, hiding out from someone took me back to the good old home life."
Veronica knew the smirk he now wore was a mask, covering up his hatred of his pathetic, cruel father. Subconsciously, she moved her hand down her knee, leaning closer to him.
"Then I got to thinking about what used to get me through those days," he said, "and I came up with us." He looked at her intently, trying to gauge her reaction. Eyes wide, she looked either scared… or guarded… or curious. He switched beds, now appealing to her while directly by her side. He tried to push the image of their fake prom night out of his mind, despite the similarities.
"I kept coming back, Veronica, because I wanted more space," he deadpanned, "but I also knew that people would find it odd. And when they got annoyed enough," he breathed out, shaky. I hope this is the right move.
"I knew they'd call you, Veronica."
Her brows furrowed, piecing together what he was saying to her. This was… a trap? A ploy to get her to come snooping? Her mind reeled, spitting out conflicting statements. You've been duped! Out spied!, one voice would cry. This is maybe the smartest and cutest thing he's done in a long while, Veronica, another pointed out. Well, does that mean anything to you, Veronica? Does it? the last one taunted.
She stood up, placing her hand against her forehead. I don't know, she answered to her mind's demands. I can't be here. Veronica turned, grabbing the cold door handle in less than a second.
"Veronica, wait!" Logan called, rushing after her.
He caught her arm, forcing her to stop and look at him. Again. "I need you to listen to me, Veronica. I know what you said," he cringed, thinking of the last words of their love affair. "But I need to try. You held me together, Mars. You practically run through my blood." He paused quickly, running a hand through his pre-tousled hair – an action that noted his nerves. "Look, I just –"
She kissed him quickly on the lips. The thoughts were still messy, and she was just as confused as she always was with him, but she missed the crazed fire of love, hormones, and reasoning that he managed to stir up in her. He made her feel every emotion in life, fully experience the 'roller coaster' effect which had highs farther than the moon. Granted, the lows were deep and rough, but some of the outside drama of their lives had slowed. Now it was just them.
His eyes were as deep and wide as they were the very first time their lips had touched. I wasn't sure, he wanted to start, trying to tell her how happy he was. He was never a very verbal guy, though.
Suddenly, strong arms pressed her petite body to his as Logan's lips engulfed hers in another kiss. This is your second chance, Veronica Mars. Try not to screw it up this time.
Interestingly, Logan had the same thought. That's epic love for you.