Categories > TV > Veronica Mars

Laid Bare

by starCrossed 1 review

What if Logan had gotten to Veronica at the end of 1.21 "A Trip the the Dentist"? What might that conversation have sounded like? LoVe. S1 spoilers.

Category: Veronica Mars - Rating: R - Genres: Drama, Romance - Characters: Logan Echolls, Veronica Mars - Warnings: [!!] - Published: 2006-10-10 - Updated: 2006-10-11 - 1426 words - Complete


"I'm ba-ack," Logan crowed into the room, shaking the precious purloined bottle of liquor aloft. "I brought a half-finished bottle of whiskey and a full bottle of pinot..." he stopped bragging when he noticed the room he was talking to was empty.

"Veronica? If this is a cute hide-and-seek game, you should have dropped breadcrumbs," he called out tentatively. He set the bottles on the headboard and scanned the room quickly. When nothing jumped out at him immediately, he started to walk toward the end of the bed. He was about to stoop to look under the bed in case she was really hiding there when he noticed that the entertainment unit on the wall was ajar. And a light was shining through the crack. He faced it. "I thought you were closed when I left. Ronnie? How'd you fit..." he began again as he pulled the doors open.

He saw that the television had been left on. On the screen, he saw a poor quality video recording of what looked suspiciously like the rumpled bed behind him, complete with the bottles on the headboard. He backed up and waved a hand. And his hand responded in kind on the screen.

Perplexed, he walked around the side of the bed and looked up. A white line ran from the ceiling fan to the entertainment center. "Oh no. Veronica," he gasped out as realization washed over him. He scrambled over the bed, and out of the pool house, calling for her.

He saw her at the end of his driveway, hugging her olive green jacket tight around her, holding the sleeves past her fingers. She didn't turn when he called her name once more.

Finally, he reached her. "Veronica, please look at me."

She turned. He'd been expecting anger. Rage. Fury. A shiv. But he hadn't expected her normally-steely lower lip trembling or her throat working to hold back tears.

"Please believe me when I say it wasn't..." Logan began, wanting to touch her, but afraid of not returning with all of his digits intact. Or worse, breaking the fragile dam holding her tears at bay.

"What?" She snapped, all spit and vinegar despite the watery eyes. "It wasn't what it looked like?" She shoved him hard and he took a step back. "Do you even want to know what I saw?"

"I know..." he started. She threw her arms out at her side.

"No! You don't! It looked like you like to videotape all your skanks so that you can watch them again and again for your own twisted pleasure." She shook her head in disbelief before biting out, "And I trusted you!"

It was an almost imperceptible change in his face as it went from compassion to anger to an unrepentant son-of-a-bitch. "You think it's mine? Oh, look, May third, ten-twenty-six on the button. Dick won the 'How Long Before a Mars Wrongly Accuses Someone Else' Poll!"

Veronica glared up at him. "Who did it belong to then, Logan? You're freaking father?"

"He's a more likely suspect than me, not that evidence matters," he spat out. "Do you ever give anyone a chance to talk to you before you go off accusing people? Or is it a special treat for me only? Oh, wait, no you must get it from your dad."

"And what evidence to the contrary do I have? You turned my body into a liquor smorgasboard for guys like Dick and Casey! You brought the drugs that got me raped!"

As she shouted accusations, his face closed off. He looked down and away, "Pretty damning, I guess. But I guess standing up to my former friends for you doesn't matter for much." He shrugged and nodded smartly, turning to walk back up the driveway.

He heard a motorcycle roar up to a stop. Weevil Navarro's voice asked Veronica if she was alright.

Logan snorted laughter. Just freaking perfect. When doesn't that saint of the PCH Bike Club swoop in and steal his girlfriend? He heard the bike gun and take off down the quiet residential street. He turned to watch them go but found himself facing Veronica instead.

She stared at the cement at his feet.

"Your knight in leather armor just rode off without you," Logan snapped, folding his arms across his chest. "And the Echoll's castle is all booked up for the night."

Veronica dared a glance at him. She just as quickly looked away. "I just..." she began.

When the pause grew too long, Logan jumped in. "What? You forgot to kick me when I was down? Oh, wait, you wanted to get me to admit more dark secrets and deep-seated emotions to you so that you could record them and sell the tape on eBitch."

"Logan, I'm sorry."

Logan paused, his retort dying in his throat. For Veronica Mars to apologize for anything was probably worth alerting the Neptune Gazette /. Hell, the LA Times / would probably pick the story up.

Caught in his own reverie and shock, he didn't notice that he'd let so much time pass. Veronica, now uncomfortable and uncertain because of her apology, dug into her bag and drew out her cell phone. She turned back to face the empty street.

"Wait, stop dialing," Logan said, placing a staying hand on her shoulder. She tensed beneath his touch and he took his hand away quickly. She didn't turn back to face him, so he pressed on. "I am, too. Sorry, I mean."

She ducked her head before turning to face him. Looking up into his face, he saw that her anger had again abated and tears were clouding her face once more, threatening to spill over her wind-bitten cheeks. And he did what he should have done in the first place and gathered her close.

He felt her chest heave against his, but she didn't make a sound. When he finally dared to look down at her, her eyes were dry and clear. She hadn't shed any tears which, if he knew her at all, made her happy.

"I'm sorry I accused you," she started.

He put his finger on her lips to stop her. "Don't. All those things you said -" she opened her mouth to cut in but he shook his head and she closed it once more. "I deserved them. If I were you, I would have blamed me, too." He cradled her face in his hands and held her gaze, "But I promise you, I did not hook up that video equipment. I didn't know about it until I came back into the room and found it on. I promise."

She nodded and replied, "I know. I think I knew it when you came after me. Even you aren't that brave."

Logan cocked an eyebrow, "Questioning my courage, Mars? I laugh in the face of danger."

"Sure, when it's someone you can beat into submission, maybe," she came back, wrapping her arms around his waist. "But, what would you have done to me?"

"Begged you into submission?" Logan replied. He looked back toward his house. "Where do you want to go? If you want to go home-" this time, Veronica silenced him by laying her finger across his lips. He smiled, hoping it meant what he thought it meant. "Are you sure? I won't mind if you just want to neck in my backseat."

"Gee, you're a swell guy, Logan. Maybe we can go cruisin' on Main Street and meet Dick and Madison for malteds."

He smirked at her, "Dick is a milkshake man. But, seriously?"

"No, I think I'll be fine for," she peeked at Logan's silver wristwatch, "The next hour and two minutes."

"You mean we wasted that much time arguing? Come on," he grabbed her by the hand and pulled her toward the house, "We've got no time to waste."

She laughed as he pulled her in through French doors into the living room, now darkened and empty of people. Balloons floated around the ceiling and serving platters still cluttered every surface. Logan managed to ignore them as he pulled her down onto the couch.

As soon as he pulled away from her, grinning up at him almost deviously, Veronica interjected, "What, no bedroom action? You castle is seriously lacking in the hospitality department."

He smiled and kissed her quiet. "When we're going to round third and go for the home stretch, I'll need longer than an hour."

Veronica quirked her eyebrows and smiled up at him as they tumbled back against the couch cushions. Uninterrupted at last.
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