Chapter 8: Third Time’s a Charm


Asleep? Passed out, more like.

Veronica walks over to the bed, nearly silent on her bare feet. Logan is lying on his stomach, one foot hanging slightly off the end of the bed. The other leg is bent, and she thinks that movement is probably what drew her attention. His position doesn’t look comfortable. Veronica goes to the side where she can see his face. His eyes are closed, his breathing slow and steady.

She stands up, hands on hips. I cannot believe he just dropped like a rock. And he called me a wuss. Huh. Veronica ignores the disappointed little sigh that escapes her. One last look at Logan to make sure he is actually out and she heads back to the couch.

Now what? She flips on the TV, turning the volume down very low. With only one slight stumble revealing her alcoholic intake, Veronica turns off the two lamps in the room, dropping the bed area into near darkness. Moonlight still filters in through the partly open curtain. She glances back at Logan and sees that the pale blue light is washing over his bare skin. The flickering light from the TV just barely reaches him. Veronica watches him, but it doesn’t seem that the light from either source is going to wake him.

It’s possible a 6.7 on the Richter scale wouldn’t wake him at this point.

Veronica slumps down on the couch, remote in hand. She flips through the channels rapidly and grimaces, as the channels are largely populated with tacky infomercials and unfunny late night comedy. Every few minutes, she glances back over to the bed. Logan shifts slightly, but doesn’t wake. Veronica frowns. She’s not sure why she is somewhere between frustrated and annoyed that he is asleep.

I spend the whole night feeling awkward about being with him and now that he’s out cold, I’m...wishing he was awake again? Veronica, Veronica... She shakes her head and mutes the television.

I should check on him. Just make sure he’s not in a coma or something.

Excuse firmly in hand, Veronica walks slowly and quietly to the bed. She stands to the side of the bed and studies his face. Asleep, he looks so young, so vulnerable. So much like a scared little boy who has just lost his mother. She tilts her head, a frown creasing her forehead. Veronica catches herself with one hand halfway to his face. She snaps the hand back to her side and takes one step back.

He’s fine. Veronica looks him over, head to toe. No, he’s super fine. Veronica has to stifle a sudden laugh as her exchange with Meg tonight comes back to her. I should not be drinking around Logan. This is clearly mistake territory I am wading into.

Her eyes travel over his prone form again, coasting over the long curve of his back, the broad expanse of skin. The changing light from the TV mixed with moonlight doesn’t offer much illumination, but it is enough for Veronica. She sees just how far Logan is from being a little boy in that eerie, changing light. How even in sleep, he is drawing her close with his own particular magnetism.

Veronica takes two more steps back from the bed, head shaking back and forth. She wants to touch him. To recapture the moment that crackled between them in the bathroom like so much live current. As much sense as it makes - which is little - she wants to be closer to Logan. To keep his head above water even as he sleeps.

She walks to the end of the bed and moves both hands closer to one of his feet, eyes bouncing back from his face to his shoe and back again. Finally, Veronica reaches out and starts to untie the laces of his right shoe hanging off the bed.

Just making him comfortable. That’s all. Perfectly platonic and innocent thing to do. It has absolutely nothing to do with the way he was looking at me in the bathroom.

Veronica gently tugs one shoe off and places it on the floor. With his left leg bent, she has to lean way over the bed to reach the other shoe. Realizing there’s no way she can succeed without falling on him, Veronica puts one knee down on the bed, causing the mattress to dip slightly.

She freezes, watching Logan for movement. Satisfied he is still out, she starts to work the laces, frowning when she hits a knot. Eyes locked on the knot in the very dim light, she doesn’t see Logan’s eyes slide slowly open.

“Veronica?” His voice is low and soft, slightly groggy. Veronica’s hands still, her eyes flying to his. “Are you trying to have your way with...my foot?”

She smirks at him, heart slowly moving back to its normal position after leaving her throat. “Yep, you caught me. Foot fetish in full effect here.” She tugs a little more at the knot before giving up and yanking the shoe off still tied. Now that he’s awake, she doesn’t have to be so gentle.

“First my shirt, now my shoes.” He’s still waking up, but she hears the joke in his tone, so she lets the comment go.

Veronica can feel him watching her again and gets suddenly nervous about her position half on the bed with him. She stands up abruptly. “There. Um, get some rest, Logan. I’ll be here. Well, over there.” Veronica points at the couch before glancing to his face briefly and turning away. He just looks at her, eyes dark.

When I woke up this morning, it was a simple plan. Help Logan. Nowhere in that helping was there to be sleeping in the same hotel room with Logan. How do I get myself into these situations? My Dad’s right. I need to join a school club or something. Get new extracurricular activities ASAP.

Veronica sits back down on the couch and stares at the television. It’s still muted and a lady with too much mascara and way too much enthusiasm seems to be doing something very strange to an egg. Veronica frowns, which is quickly becoming her standard expression.

A minute passes with no sound in the room. She jumps when she hears Logan clear his throat. Hearing the bedsprings creak slightly from movement, Veronica tenses.

“Unless you’re in the serious market for an Egg-stractor, Veronica, why don’t you just get some sleep?”

Veronica turns her head slightly, not quite looking at Logan, but acknowledging him. “Is the TV keeping you awake?”

“No, you are.”

She frowns, cranes her head around to meet his look. Logan is on his back now, reclining on his elbows. “But I’m just sitting here.”

“Exactly.”

Veronica shakes her head. “What on earth are you talking about, Logan?”

He looks down, fingers on his left hand picking at the bedspread. “It’s a big bed, Veronica. I’d be a perfect gentleman.”

Her heart jumps back into her throat. The realization that Logan is asking her to sleep in the same bed with him hits Veronica like the proverbial ton of bricks. She lifts her eyebrows at him. “Well, that would be a dramatic change.”

“Okay, fine. Point taken. What I mean is I won’t touch you, Veronica. I’m just...would you?” Veronica can hear the strain in his voice and she’s not sure if it’s the mix of grief and fear weighing on him or the fact that he’s asking her for a favor. It might be both.

She turns back to the TV, mind racing in pace with her heart. It occurs to Veronica that saying no may give Logan the idea that she can’t keep her hands off him. While saying yes may prove just that. She sighs. It’s a no win situation. She should be wary of his intentions, of the stories he could tell about Veronica Mars in a hotel room, crawling into bed with him. And yet, she isn’t. And she thinks, for the first time in more than a year, she can trust him. He needs her.

Decision made, she points the remote at the TV, ending the silent sales pitch. She hesitates on the couch, thinking of a million scenarios where this could all go seriously wrong. Alcohol plus bone-shaking grief do not make for good decision-making. And she’s not feeling all that sharp herself.

Veronica pushes up from the couch, feeling her knees wobble. She decides it is the vodka and only the vodka, as she does not have those kinds of reactions to Logan Echolls. At least, she didn’t used to have those kinds of reactions. Guided only by pale moonlight, she stubs her toe on the side table as she makes her way around the couch.

“Oh, damn! Table. Table! Right in my way, the table!” She hops a little, toe throbbing.

“You okay, Veronica?” He wants to laugh and she can tell.

Veronica takes in a deep breath, little darts of pain shooting up her foot. “Yes. Just ruined my chances for the Bolshoi, I think.”

“Too short, anyway.” He laughs and she glares in his general direction.

“I really think my lack of grace is more of an issue, but thanks for the vote of confidence, Logan.”

“Anytime. I’m a giver.” His voice is playful once again and she has to swallow a smile.

Veronica snorts as she reaches the edge of the bed. She turns and sits on the edge, bringing her foot up to check her toe. Wiggling it seems to prove it’s not broken. Or that she’s more tipsy than she thought and she can’t feel it. Either way, there’s nothing to do but swear at furniture and she’s already done that.

She can hear Logan moving on the bed and she turns to squint at him. The available light only offers her a vague idea, but Veronica can see that he is now on one side of the bed. And still without a shirt, of course.

At least he didn’t get blood on his pants. That would be awkward. Veronica pauses in thought. More awkward.

Shaking off the throbbing in her toe, Veronica turns and crawls up the bed. Logan is silent as she approaches, but she thinks he is probably watching her. Something he has been doing a lot recently.

Veronica lies down on her back, eyes trained on the ceiling. She keeps thinking that reliving that moment in the bathroom while horizontal would be not so good, so she’s keeping her distance. The sounds of Logan settling back down reach her as she struggles to find enough calmness to sleep.

She’s not sure how much time passes. Five minutes, ten...maybe more. Veronica feels herself begin to drift off when Logan speaks.

“Veronica?”

She hesitates to answer. His voice is so low, she's not even sure he wanted her to hear. Barely an inflection, barely a question, but the need present is like a wave over her. She stirs a little before answering, voice equally soft as she turns on her side to face his direction.

“Yeah?”

The silence stretches out again and Veronica wonders if she wasn’t meant to hear him after all. The tension stretches between them, growing tighter by the second.

“Did you and Lilly really make out while wearing skimpy lingerie and rolling around on her bed giggling?”

Veronica tries and fails to keep herself from laughing. Logan can feel her shaking. “Logan! No!”

“Oh. So, it’s only that way in my head, huh?” She can almost hear him smirking.

“Yes, definitely.”

“So...what really happened?” His feigned nonchalance is not very well-feigned.

“Logan, did you really wake me up just to ask me that?”

“What if I did? And you weren’t sleeping yet.”

Veronica hesitates to ask how he knew that. “Not the point.”

He sighs, a little of the play draining from him. “I suppose not. And no.”

She knits her brow slightly, losing track. Veronica blames the drinking, as she can usually hold onto a conversation thread no matter how twisted. “No, what?”

Logan pauses, and if it wasn’t nearly dark in the room and if Veronica’s eyes had adjusted more to it, she would see him leaning closer to her. As it is, she can feel the mattress shift and it makes her heart skip a beat. Even so, she slides the tiniest bit closer to him, too.

“That’s not what I wanted to ask you.” His voice returns to the low, soft quality it had when he first spoke.

“Oh.” Her word is an exhale of breath. Veronica doesn’t need to see now to feel how close he is. He’s not touching her, as he promised, but Logan is most definitely in her personal space. Her breath shortens, and Veronica wonders when he came to affect her this way. And she’s not able to come up with an exact answer. Somewhere between collapsing in her arms downstairs and brushing his hand so softly against her cheek in the bathroom.

“Why...” He pauses and Veronica’s eyes are finally starting to adjust. He is turned her way, head on his pillow, matching her position. Logan clears his throat. “Why are you here?”

Veronica knows what he’s asking this time. It’s the same question, but further loaded than it was even in the bathroom. Here is this bed, here is this close to him. Here is a breath away from kissing him. She wants to call him on asking her the same question three times. Make a joke, turn it into something they can laugh at. But it’s just not funny and she can’t do it.

“Because you asked me to be.” And she knows it’s a cop-out answer and she knows it is sappy and it takes her decision to be here out of the equation. And yet Veronica is feeling at a loss in this dark room, on this soft bed, a hundred miles from home. With a Logan so different, she wants to ask him where he’s been hiding this version of himself all these months.

And still he’s not touching her.

“Is that the only reason?” His voice offers no clues and though she can just see his face now, there are no answers there either.

“No.” The word slips out before Veronica can decide how to answer. Her eyes widen slightly at her admission, both to Logan and to herself. She does not elaborate, but she’s not sure she has to.

Veronica can feel his warm breath on her face. As promised, he’s not touching her, but he’s hovering oh-so-close. She sees his eyes, bottomless and dark, looking back at her.

Point of no return, Mars.

Veronica crashes through the last six inches of space between them. In the next second, the contact of his lips on hers shuts down her inner monologue. It comes close to shutting down her entire system. Logan’s kiss here in the dark is everything he is not out in the light. It’s soft and gentle, the lightest pressure on her mouth. When her fingers come up to rest on his jaw, he finally reaches out and curls his hand around her waist. She feels the weight of him there, anchoring her to the bed, to this moment. She squeezes her eyes shut even tighter as his mouth moves on hers, asking so little. It is a kiss so chaste, Veronica feels a thrill shoot straight down her spine. The very caution present makes her want to throw it all to the wind. Her hand moves up his face and she feels the wetness right as she tastes the salt.

With a little gasp, she breaks the kiss. “Logan?” He doesn’t answer and she knows he doesn’t want to. She also knows he’s not crying because they kissed. He’s crying because he let the floodgate loose for a moment. Her shock at kissing Logan for the first time ever is instantly drowned and Veronica’s hand snakes around to the back of his neck, pulling him closer.

His voice is strangled, choked with sorrow. “Oh god, Veronica.” She closes her eyes as she slides closer to him. Her body bumps against his in the dark, and Veronica feels the warm wetness against her collarbone as she tugs his head there. His arm slides further around her and tightens, closing the space between them completely. Veronica makes no more words, just little sounds. Soothing, helpless little sounds. She’s not uncomfortable this time as her hand slides over his back in little circles.

And for the second time in four hours, Veronica holds Logan while he sobs out his loss on her shoulder.



On to Chapter 9: Around and Around