Chapter 3: Famous Last Words



Veronica spends several minutes cleaning up the first aid supplies. Then a few more minutes wiping down the counter and straightening the towels. Finally, at least one more minute staring into the mirror and reminding herself that Logan can’t be trusted. He’s hurt her before and this new vulnerable side is just temporary. The apology was just a fluke. He is not back to being the old Logan. The one that was my friend. Get a grip, Veronica.

Nodding to her reflection, resolve in place, Veronica finally turns the light off, takes a deep breath and steps out into the room again.

She immediately frowns, as the room appears empty. Her eyes flick to the door, as if she could somehow tell if Logan recently used it. With only two lamps on in the room now, she realizes most of the light is coming from one of the large picture windows. Veronica looks that way and that’s when she sees him. Logan is leaning against the window, lit in cool blue moonlight. His forehead is touching the glass, his gaze directed out over the city.

He doesn’t react to her arrival in the room. She hesitates, unsure if she should approach him. She has no idea how to comfort Logan or even if he wants her to. Sharing comfort is not something they’ve ever done. Not even after Lilly. There was too much accusation and anger in the air to allow a simple thing like comfort. Veronica’s chest tightens, remembering the way everything hurt, the way she woke up in the night crying, seeing Lilly sprawled out on the concrete in her nightmares. She doesn’t know if Logan did that, too. Her Dad helped her through that time. She wonders now who comforted Logan. Who was allowed? Duncan? His mother?

Her stomach lurches. His mother. Who always had a kind word for Veronica. She can see her trying to console Logan after Lilly. Certainly not his Dad, it seems. Trina’s words spin in her mind in a sickening rhythm as a chilling thought comes to mind. Who will comfort him now when his Dad breaks his nose? Did his mother try to protect him?

Veronica bites her bottom lip. He is alone. She looks at how he is standing, slumped against the window. Not relaxed. Defeated.

“That has to be the longest you have ever gone without saying a word, Veronica.” She starts slightly, wonders how long Logan has felt her standing across the room watching him. Logan doesn’t move, doesn’t turn his head. She takes a deep breath and walks over to him slowly, taking his words as a tacit invitation.

She reaches the window and stands next to him, looking out. The lights of the city stretch as far as she can see. Veronica can hear Logan next to her, his breathing audible in the way that precedes a good sob. She’s afraid to look over at him, afraid to unlock the floodgates because she has no idea how to close them back up.

“Is your hand okay?” Veronica knows it is a weak rejoinder, but she feels like if she doesn’t break the silence one or both of them will crack.

He glances down at the hand wrapped in white and then over at her. “Yeah.” He looks back out the window. “Thanks.”

First, an apology and now gratitude. What’s next? A hug?

They stand next to each other in silence again as Veronica stares at the cold vastness of the city sprawled out in front of them.

Logan takes a breath. “She was the last person I loved. The last fucking person.” His voice is flat, without inflection, and it chills Veronica to the core. No, not a hug. Just the most heartbreaking thing he could have possibly said.

Without thinking it through, Veronica reaches across the distance between them, finding his uninjured hand hanging limply by his side. She curls her small fingers into it and squeezes. “I know, Logan. I do.” For the space of ten seconds, his hand stays limp, a dead weight in hers. But then suddenly, convulsively, he’s clutching her hand tightly. To the point that she flinches. Veronica can’t help but think this must be what it’s like to try and save a drowning man.

She turns away, pulling on Logan as she has already several times tonight. He lifts his head from the window and turns with her, but he lets her hand fall. Veronica walks past Logan, hoping he will follow. Hoping he will snap out of it again. Last time it took her storming out and she’s not sure that would be such a good idea again. She glances back at him and notices something strange about his shirt. Moving closer, she sees the dark stain and realizes what it is.

“You should take your shirt off.” Logan looks up at her sharply, eyes widening slightly. Well, that woke him up. The tension of the moment before vanishes in a heartbeat and Veronica rejoices in her ability to blurt out the perfect distraction.

“Well, well, well. The rumors ARE true.” There is a slight spark in his eye that makes Veronica want to sigh with relief. His grief is ebbing and surging and she is going to have to ride the wave as best she can. She’s pretty sure her job is to pull him out before it gets too deep. Distract him. She rolls her eyes at him and gestures at his shirt hem.

“Look at your shirt. It’s a mess. It’ll stain if you don’t run some water over it.”

Logan pulls the edge of the shirt out to get a look at it and sees the large bloodstain from where he used it as a temporary bandage for his hand. He shrugs, peels off his black sweater and tosses it on the couch. Then Logan grabs the hem of his shirt, giving Veronica a look she cannot interpret before he pulls the t-shirt over his head. Veronica notes his nicely toned abs and chest but is determined not to ogle him. She also notes that he has been working out since they used to hang out by the pool. And then notes that she should not be noting that. He holds the shirt in one hand and looks down at her.

“What about you?” He fights a grin as she blinks up at him.

“What about me? I didn’t get blood on me. Plus, not wearing a shirt.” Veronica purses her lips at him. “Dress and sweater. No shirt.” She waves her hand down her outfit.

Logan frowns and starts to open his mouth, but shuts it again when Veronica unbuttons her cardigan, shaking her head. Pulling it off reveals the thin straps of her low-cut black dress, which is more revealing than she was letting on with her demure outer layer. Logan finds himself tracing her delicate collarbone with his eyes before jerking them back up with some effort, grateful to see she is looking down, straightening her dress.

“There. As good as it gets.” She tosses the cardigan on his and puts her hands on her hips.

Logan lifts an eyebrow and smirks down at her. “Not so fast. The night is young, Veronica Mars. And so - “

“If you say ‘and so are we,’ I’m outta here.”

Logan bites back a laugh and presses his lips together. He takes his left hand and turns an imaginary key in front of his mouth, locking it up tight.

It is just then she notices the coffee table. Or rather, the display on top of the coffee table. The little bottles of liquor are now neatly lined up there. Only now they are separated into two separate rows. One of vodka, one of whiskey. Logan catches her looking at them and a little smile touches his lips briefly. She realizes she wasn’t the only one compulsively organizing after he left the bathroom. He gestures at the vodka and then at her, before moving around the table to flop down on the couch.

“I never said I was going to drink all those, Logan.” Veronica shakes her head, at least feeling like she’s back in familiar territory with him. No more intense stares or awkward touching. She steps over where she dropped her bag and makes her way around the table to sit down next to him.

“I’m not contagious, Veronica.” Logan looks pointedly at the two feet separating them, clearly ignoring her previous comment.

Veronica rolls her eyes and scoots one foot closer to him. She glances at the row of bottles. “Five? You think I’m going to drink five of those?”

“Actually, I was thinking you would start with five and see if you’re still thirsty.”

“More like see if I’m still conscious.”

Logan looks to the side, eyes raking over her. “Guess you are a bit on the small side. Plus, you probably can’t hold your liquor, anyway.” He looks away so she can’t see him smile, knowing that baiting her is almost always foolproof. If there’s one thing he knows about Veronica Mars it’s that she doesn’t back down. Not anymore. And certainly not from him.

“Ooh. Next you’ll triple dog dare me. However will I withstand the peer pressure?” Veronica smirks at him, but she does reach for the first bottle. She looks pointedly at one of the bottles of Jack Daniels and Logan leans forward to pick it up.

Veronica holds hers towards Logan in a mock toast and he does the same. Tipping her head back, she takes a big swig and promptly chokes on it. Spluttering, she manages to swallow but her eyes water as she coughs and the vodka burns all the way down her throat. She looks over at Logan in time to see him set his empty bottle back in place on the table. Wiping her mouth, Veronica looks at Logan with a question in her eyes, still too choked up to speak.

“Practice makes perfect, Veronica. You’ve gotta put in the hours if you want to make it to the big leagues.” His comment is accompanied by a wry smile. Veronica looks back at him, knowing as well as he does that both their mothers went straight to the majors out of high school. She chooses to believe he won’t stumble down that path anymore than she will. She also decides tonight will be the exception. Tonight, the numbing is needed. Let the pain wait ‘til morning. It always does.

With a stray cough, Veronica finally finds her voice again. “Not really used to drinking straight from the bottle, Logan.” Admitting a weakness seems to surprise Logan.

“Unless it’s iced tea, right? Want something different?” Logan reaches over to the endtable and holds up a small menu with a smirk. “Dad’s buying.”

He passes over the menu and Veronica hesitates as she reads it over, but Logan has the phone in his hand before she can speak. “Yeah. Could we get...” He looks at her expectantly.

“Cranberry juice?” His forehead creases in confusion. “To mix.” He nods.

“...three bottles of cranberry juice, three bottles of Coke and...” Logan covers the receiver. “Are you hungry?” Veronica shakes her head quickly as Logan takes the menu back from her, scanning it quickly.

“The roast beef sandwich with fries and...” Logan glances up at Veronica and then away again. “...a tuna salad sandwich on wheat toast. Yeah, that’s all. Right. Thanks.” He hits a button and drops the phone back to the table.

Veronica stares at Logan until he finally looks at her. “How did you know that?”

“Know what?” He fidgets slightly, snatching another bottle of J.D. and twisting the lid off.

“The sandwich I like.” She squints at him, confused.

“Oh please, Veronica. That’s the only kind of sandwich you ever brought to school for six months. How could I miss it?”

Veronica doesn’t point out that was about two years ago now and she had always assumed he looked at nothing but Lilly during their school lunches together. “I did say I wasn’t hungry, Logan.”

“Yeah, but you might be.”

“Right.” Veronica realizes that her inability to sort out Logan at the moment could easily become a permanent condition. Inside this hotel room in this city miles from Neptune, he is another Logan. And she thinks she likes this one a good deal more than the one who has been walking around in his skin for the last year.

Logan takes a swallow from the bottle, grimacing only slightly. Veronica cocks her head at him, thinking.

He turns to her suddenly, eyes lit with an idea. He points at her half-empty miniature bottle of vodka. “How about we make this interesting, Veronica?”

She lifts her eyebrows in question. “What did you have in mind?” Famous last words, Mars.

“A little drinking game to pass the time, maybe?”

Shit. You’re going to be eating those words, Veronica. And possibly throwing them up later. She takes in the expectant look on Logan’s face.

Beyond all her better judgment, Veronica hesitates only a few seconds more before answering with a nod.


On to Chapter 4: Game On