Chapter 11: The Open Road


“Shoes.”

Veronica pauses right before they leave the lobby, eyebrows knitting in confusion.

“Excuse me?”

“I don’t have shoes on.”

Veronica’s eye snap to the ground to see Logan’s sock-covered feet. “Damn it. You don’t.” She hesitates, struggling with the time ticking by and Logan’s need for footwear. Luckily, she snagged her boots on the way out the first time she left the room. Her panic over getting home didn’t allow her to think everything else through. Veronica looks around, spots an armchair off to the side of the entrance. “Wait there. Don’t draw attention to yourself, okay?”

Maybe I should just ask him to hold his breath while I’m gone, too. About as easy for him.

Logan nods. His whole head feels jammed full of cotton and he’s barely staying conscious. He sinks into the chair as Veronica walks very quickly to the elevator. He’s aware that his eyes are firmly locked on her ass swaying back and forth, but since she’s not looking, feels safe in his ogling. Except now she’s looking. Logan lifts one hand from the arm of the chair, forming his fingers into an ‘okay’ sign, accompanied by a wink.

Veronica rolls her eyes and pushes the elevator button again, trying to hurry it.

How he can cling to consciousness by a thread and still find time to ogle my ass, I’ll never know. I’ll just add that to the list of confusing questions about Logan. The long, long list.

Five minutes later, Veronica returns with the shoes, which she drops into the lap of a sleeping Logan.

“Rise and shine. Again.”

“Would you settle for stumble and glare?”

“Do I have a choice?”

Logan yanks on his shoes and comes to his feet slowly. Veronica is halfway out the door already. He cringes as they leave the lobby, the bright morning sun hitting him full in the face. Veronica digs in her bag and hands him a pair of sunglasses. Logan takes them, glancing down in surprise as he sees they are an expensive-looking pair of men’s sunglasses.

“Where did you...?”

“Came with the shirt. Come on, I’m over here.” Veronica leads the way to her car quickly, short legs outdistancing Logan’s much longer ones as he follows behind her.

“Veronica, you are a woman of many mysteries.” Logan half-smiles at her as he slides the glasses on.

“You have no idea. Get in.” Really, you don’t. Not sure if you want to, either. The files on Lilly’s murder stashed on her laptop flash through Veronica’s mind. It has occurred to her on more than one occasion that Logan wouldn’t understand her continued pursuit of Lilly’s killer. It’s not exactly one of their talking topics.

Shaking these thoughts off, Veronica gets in the car and then watches as Logan slides into the passenger seat, his long legs jammed under the dashboard.

“Sorry. It’s a Veronica-sized car.” Veronica pauses, thinking. “The seat does recline, though.”

“Does it now?” She swears she can hear him quirk his eyebrows up.

How does he make the most innocent thing sound so dirty?

“Yes, it does.”

“Good thing to know.”

There he goes again. Perv. Or flirt? Such a fine line with him. Best thing to do, Veronica? Drive. Just drive.

She turns her eyes to face front as she starts the engine. Veronica can hear Logan fiddling with the seat and suddenly he falls out of her peripheral vision.

“The lever’s a bit tricky, I’ve been told.”

His voice coming from almost behind her, Logan answers in a sharp tone, “You don’t say.”

Veronica grins and looks back at him. As soon as her eyes find his face, she regrets the smile. “Probably didn’t help the headache, huh?”

“Or the blinding nausea.” Logan looks extremely pale.

“Right. Um, you can open a window if you need to...”

“I’ll warn you if your interior is about to get re-decorated.”

“I’ll try to drive easy.”

Logan hesitates. Clearly, the idea of Veronica Mars helping him, being concerned for him is still a garment that doesn’t quite fit. He shifts uncomfortably. “Uh, thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” Veronica puts the car in gear and pulls out of the parking lot, immediately hitting a pothole. “Oh, damn. Uh, my bad.”

Logan groans, stretches out a finger to push the window down button without sitting up. Veronica looks at him sharply. “No need to panic. Just getting fresh air.”

“Okay.” Veronica drives, trying to avoid any more holes, bumps and other obstacles which might cause Logan to lose the meager contents of his stomach. They ride for five minutes in silence, Veronica never turning her eyes from the road as she eases onto the freeway.

I can’t just sit here with him for two hours and not talk. We...hate each other. Don’t we? I only helped him because...because...well, that’s beside the point. The point is the all important hating each other. So why all the non-hating behavior? We have to talk about this.

“Logan - ” Veronica cranes her head around to see Logan in his reclined position.

He’s asleep. Usually I can’t get him to stop talking. But when we need to talk? Out cold. Again.

Logan shifts slightly in his seat before settling down with his face turned in her direction. Even with the dark glasses, she knows he’s out. Veronica wants to be frustrated with him, even pissed, but it just won’t come.

Veronica sighs, eyes back on the road for a minute before they drift back to him. She takes in the dark circles under his eyes with a sad smile. The urge to worry about him, to take care of him, is still there. Even in the morning, when she thought the light of reason would burn it out of her.

He looks worse than I feel. And I feel like I drank too much, kissed the wrong boy and slept in my clothes in a strange place with no toothbrush. Maybe because I did.

Facing front once again, Veronica slides her cell phone out of her bag and switches it to vibrate. Fingers tapping the wheel, her mind wanders. In the time since Lilly’s death, she’s filled an internal reservoir with bad memories and hurt feelings, many of them drawn from encounters with Logan. All that fuel served her well this year, hardening her, strengthening her against him and the rest of the world. And yet, right now, when she goes to that well, she comes back with feelings of pity and empathy and memories of happier times with Logan. And this new feeling. Affection.

Or is it just lust?

She shakes her head, eyes finding her passenger once again. He is breathing evenly, body relaxed in the seat. As her eyes trip down his body, they catch on the way his tanned neck contrasts with the stark white shirt and his hand lying across his stomach. Her gaze lingers, tracing the lines of him, finally checking herself before she risks running off into a ditch.

That would be a fun one to explain to my Dad. ‘I was checking out Logan’s goods when I totaled my car. Whoopsy.’ Veronica throws him one more glance. And I do mean goods.

Veronica nearly laughs out loud. Instead, she turns the radio on very softly and tries to concentrate on anything but the boy sleeping two feet away from her in all his confusing glory.

***

Halfway to Neptune, Veronica needs a bathroom and the Le Baron needs gas. She exits the interstate and pulls into a gas station, driving as smoothly as she can. Glancing over as she gets out of the car, she sees that Logan is still out.

By the time she walks around the car and unscrews the gas cap, a hand is sticking out of the open window. In the fingers, she sees a platinum card. She stops and laughs, eyes rolling.

Moving to the window, Veronica leans in. “Lots of practice whipping that thing out, huh?”

Damn. Now, I’m the one making everything sound dirty. Pretty sure I did that on purpose, too. Damn again.

Logan pulls the glasses off so he can deliver a look both amused and mischievous, eyebrows raised. Veronica is relieved to see a little spark back in his eye. More relieved than she thinks she should be. Where the spark is, the snark follows.

“You might say that.”

“I just did.”

“I noticed. Now, stop arguing with me and take the card. Though you don’t have to stand up immediately.” His eyes drop pointedly to the front of her dress, as her position is currently giving him a view of her goods. Logan slides the glasses back on, smirking.

Veronica jerks to a standing position and can just hear the low chuckle from inside the car. “Logan!”

He doesn’t answer, just shakes the card in her direction.

“You don’t have to - ” Veronica frowns at the credit card.

“Not offering because I have to.” Logan’s voice from inside the car is suddenly serious.

Veronica hesitates for a second more before taking the card. Neither of them needs to say that ‘have to’ hasn’t really been a factor recently. She doesn’t respond, just swipes the card through the slot and reaches to return it to Logan. Veronica tenses when her fingers graze his and he closes his hand around hers for the space of a few seconds. Warm and solid, his hand slides away, taking the card with him. She stands still for a second, hand still in mid-air, unnerved by the instant warmth she felt in reaction to his touch.

“Thanks.” She keeps almost all the waver out of her voice as she turns away and starts to pump the gas.

In a voice too low for Veronica to hear, Logan mumbles an answer. “At least Dad’s money is good for something.” He settles fully back into the seat, attempts to stretch his legs, but comes up short as his feet hit the floorboard. “This IS a Veronica-sized car.”

Logan pops the door open, startling Veronica. She jumps slightly, recovering by the time he unfolds himself from the car and stands up. He nods to the food mart connected to the gas station.

“Think that fine establishment has any facilities?”

Veronica squints at the less than reputable looking building. “One way to find out.”

“Right.” Logan pushes off from the car, straightening his shirt and running his hands through his hair absently.

Veronica leans slightly to the side, as the gas pump blocks her view of his departure otherwise.

He walks like he owns the world, I swear. Or like he knows he has a great ass. Maybe both. More adept at discretion than Logan, Veronica doesn’t get caught when Logan snaps the door open of the store and throws a glance over his shoulder at her. She is studiously watching the numbers tick by when he looks. He disappears inside.

Five minutes later, Logan comes out the door, pausing when he doesn’t see the Le Baron at the pump. A quick look around finds it sitting by the corner of the food mart, Veronica behind the wheel, leaning back against the headrest. Balancing the things in his hands precariously, he pulls the door open and plops down in the seat. Veronica sits up suddenly at his arrival and the smell of hot coffee under her nose.

Eyes open, she smiles at the sight in front of her, quickly taking the cup Logan is offering.

“Can’t say if it’s any good, but it’s hot.”

Veronica cups both hands around the cup and sniffs the bitter brew. “And right now, that makes it good.” She sips, grimacing at the heat and the distinctive taste of gas station coffee. Smiling over at Logan, she feels calm in his presence for the first time since they woke up this morning. “Thanks.”

“Yeah. Oh, and here. I figured you were hungry.” He passes over a bag, which turns out to have a huge blueberry muffin in the bottom.

She sniffs it as her stomach rumbles, reminding her of its current state. “What about you?” His hands are empty aside from the coffee, Veronica notices.

“Food and I are not yet friends, Veronica.” Logan holds his hand up towards her in a stop gesture.

“Oh, right. Sorry.”

Veronica settles the bag next to her and tucks the coffee into her cup holder. She starts the car and gets them back on the interstate quickly. Logan brings his seat up to a slightly less reclined position so he can drink his coffee.

They ride in silence for the next few minutes, the only sounds Veronica rustling in the bag for pieces of muffin and that of coffee being sipped.

Logan looks out the window, watches the scenery fly by. His thoughts wander along with his fingers as they trail down the button band of his shirt. He looks at Veronica out of the corner of his eye, wondering once again where this shirt came from and the bigger question of why she continues to help him. Is it pity? He pulls the sunglasses off, pinches the bridge of his nose momentarily before putting the glasses on the dashboard.

His eyes drop to a loose thread he is twisting around his finger. Around and around it goes. Is there something else? Does he feel it, too? He’s spent so long shoving Veronica into one particular category in his mind, it’s hard to shift her into a new light. He slides his eyes her way again, this time noticing the way her skirt is riding up as she drives, revealing more of her smooth thigh than she likely realizes. Logan shifts in his seat. It’s not like it’s news to him that Veronica is hot. It’s just that he used to block it out in favor of hating her. Her hand suddenly appears in his field of vision, yanking the fabric down. Logan’s eyes jerk to hers instead of away. His lack of embarrassment at being caught causes a pink flush to race up Veronica’s neck and into her cheeks. She pulls her eyes away from his and back to the road.

Logan: perv or flirt? The mystery continues.

The thought that Logan is used to getting what he wants crosses Veronica’s mind.

Even if he doesn’t always get to keep it. And if that look was any indication, I may be near the top of his To Do list.

She throws him a look, trying to read him. She sees Logan smile a little, grab his sunglasses and lean back in his seat.

Veronica can’t help a little grin. She turns the radio up. “Too loud?”

“Just right.” Logan moves around a little, getting comfortable and Veronica senses he’s about to drop off again.

Veronica knows they have unfinished business and that pesky matter of a few kisses to discuss, but it can wait a little longer. There is something kind of unsettling and wonderful about the uncertainty of stolen looks and confused feelings. For the next hour, with the wind whipping her blonde hair around her head and salt air tickling her nose, she’s happy to not know what comes next.

Yeah. Just right.



On to Chapter 12: Home Sweet Home